Young Flame

Now that we are within the safety of the cave, many have collapsed in either exhaustion or relief. Maybe both. Everyone has been accounted for, safe and mostly unhurt. Not everyone escaped the fog without injury though, some have charred, blackened skin on their exposed arms or faces. Pop has it the worst. He is alive, thankfully, but unresponsive. The amount of his inner flame that was burnt away by the fog was immense. It will take a long time for him to recover, assuming he recovers at all. An áed’s inner flame is their soul, their sense of self and their entire being. If he loses enough of it, there is a risk he will lose a part of himself. That part could be anything from one of his memories to his skill at wielding his sabre.

It is terrifying to think about. I never considered it a possibility. Even losing limbs is preferable. It might take time, but they will regrow, the same as if they were never lost. But losing your inner flame isn’t the same. Your strength might return, but the knowledge or skills attached to that part of your soul would be lost.

It is shocking to witness the true horror the coast can bring. I’d been warned about the rain and water before, but they never explained how dangerous it can be. Er, well, they had, but I hadn’t truly believed it. I hadn’t been able to picture the possibility of some non-physical thing able to bleed through the flame walls of my tribe that has always been impervious.

The fog replaced the very air around us. What sort of damage could it do if we hadn’t found the cavern pass in time? Would our gers have been enough to keep it out? Or are they only effective against the rain?

The warnings they gave me always highlighted the danger of rain rather than fog. Thinking back on it, nobody was too worried until we discovered the fog moved much faster than expected. Was the fog different from what they have encountered before?

Auntie is quick to place me on the ground before checking me over with hasty eyes.

“You’re not hurt anywhere are you, Olvy?” she asks while moving my limbs to her whims.

“No Auntie, I’m fine.” I’m a bit shaken up after the ordeal and my chest still stings from breathing in the fog-tinged air, but I’d rather not say that at the moment. There are others who might need help more than I do.

Uncle appears not long after I reassure Auntie Kay, looking just as worried as Kay. After I relieved his worries, I notice Uncle's cart behind him. It is burning.

“Uh… Uncle? Your wagon is burning.”

“Huh?” he says as he turns around. “Oh, shit!” and he is off running.

Auntie just laughs and follows with me by her side.

Uncle Rivin is trying to salvage some of the animal pelts and skins that were set ablaze. The tunnel of fire must have burnt through a lot of our less fire-resistant equipment. A glance confirms my practice spear is unusable now.

How unfortunate. Auntie will have to let me use a real spear now.

Smothering my growing smile, I turn to the growing pile of charred pelts. It looks like a fair bit is being thrown out. Uncle put off applying fire-proofing treatment to many of our collected pelts until we reached somewhere safer. That decision is coming back to bite him. Still, better the pelts than us.

“Was that fog different than normal?” I ask, wondering if he’d experienced it before.

He stops his work and turns to me.

“Yes. It was unnatural, faster than it should have been.”

He turns back to his work, contemplating his thoughts.

“Also, I am not sure why, but I struggled just looking at it. It was like I was staring death in the eye as it came for me. I have never felt that before, not like that.”

“Yeah, I’m the same. Last time I felt like that was when I was a little girl near the western sea.” Auntie Kay says.

Uncle’s wagon wasn’t the only one that lit up in the run for the cave. The other carts all experienced damage to some degree. One ger will be unusable for the foreseeable future, having lost much of its outer tarp. The two remaining ger will be rather uncomfortable — with eight áed per ger — but it isn’t the worst. As we are already in the safety of the cavern, we don’t need to set up our ger and simply organised our sleeping arrangements on the sand breaching deep into the cavern.

I want to approach my pop. I know he hasn’t wanted to talk to me in a while, but I still care about him. And anyway, he risked his own life for everyone, so he must still care somewhat, right?

As I approach his sleeping form, I see he is being tended to by my cousin Serafi. Serafi is the youngest in the tribe besides myself and yet she is still double my age. She has him laid on a bed of cobalt, but his flame has yet to consume it.

“Is he going to be okay?” I ask, sitting beside her.

“Probably.” She replies in monotone. Serafi’s odd, grumpy attitude usually scares me away from her. She tends to be rather harsh with her words and I’ve learnt to keep my interactions with her short. She voluntarily takes up the role of carer when anyone in the tribe is sick or hurt, but always gripes about it. A ‘probably’ is a rather favourable response from her.

I watch as she places more cobalt around him, almost burying him with how much she loads onto him. She is using a good part of our stockpile, but she would’ve gotten permission from the elders. The quicker Pop recovers, the better after all.

“When will he be better?” I ask. I shouldn’t have, because she turns to glare at me.

“He’ll be better when he’s better. Now go annoy someone else.”

I quickly do so to not agitate her any more. I’d think she dislikes me if she doesn’t treat everyone the same way. No, maybe she doesn’t like anyone. I don’t really get her, but she has taken care of me when I used to get sick on chilly nights, so she probably cares somewhat, right?

❖❖❖

A few days pass with everyone recovering after such a stressful ordeal. We have been moving near nonstop for weeks now and the elders decide it is a good time to relax for a few days. Of course, there will be a great need to hunt once we leave the confines of the cave system, but for now, they are satisfied with letting everyone recover.

We were forced to move further into the cavern pass when the fog breaches our tarp barricade. The fog only pushed a dozen metres past the entrance before it settled, creating a misty carpet blocking the way out. Scouts at the other end of the cavern reported much the same happening.

Only earlier today did our entrapping fog recede to where it is safe to leave. The elders are fine with allowing another day of rest, even with the possibility of continuing.

When Auntie continued my spear training, I had been extremely excited to use an actual spear. So when Auntie Kay tossed me the stick she’d been using — the stick I forgot about — my disappointment must have been palpable. She laughed for a good while at my expense, clutching her stomach and wheezing. She actually wheezed!? It wasn’t that funny!

Of course, she’d found my anger even funnier. I’d been close to storming off when she calmed herself and brought out another spear, a real one this time. She’d been messing with me about the stick. I was conflicted about being toyed with, but the allure of finally using a real spear attracted me too much.

The spear is a lot heavier than I expected and it took me a few hours to adapt my training to it. My greatest difficulty with the added weight of the spear is that it’s hard to change its direction and speed on a whim as I could with the stick. The first time I tried a wide sweep with the spear, it didn’t stop as easily as I was used to, and it dragged me along with it.

I wish it had been anyone other than Auntie Kay who saw me trip over myself, she's never been one to hold back her laughter. At least she'd been the only one to see.

I get exhausted much quicker using the weighty spear than with the stick. After this last extensive session with Auntie, I drop onto my back and just lay there for a bit.

With my head low to the ground, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning to my side to find what caught my attention, I see… nothing. Just the thin sheen of sand covering much of the stone floor of the cavern. My eyes scan over the floor for a bit. When nothing catches my eye after looking for a bit, I consider maybe it was my tiredness playing tricks on me. That’s when I see it again.

The sand is moving.

Well, it does for a bit. The floor almost looks alive for a moment when the small grains of sand hop along the surface before returning to rest.

I watch as the barely noticeable rhythm of moving sand continues.

Standing up, I realise I can't even see the dance from this high. I need to show Auntie, this is so cool. I run up to Auntie Kay and grab her arm.

“Auntie, Auntie, you have to see this. The floor is dancing.”

I pull her with me to the spot where I saw the sand moving.

“Alright, Olvy. Alright.” she gives into my will, smiling.

I lay down and drop my chin onto my hands, patting the ground next to me so Auntie will lie with me. When she joins me, taking the same position, I point to the ground in front of me. A second goes past and I almost think it isn’t going to happen when the sand dances once again.

“See?” I say.

“Huh. That’s neat.” She says, increasing her focus on the ground.

“I wonder why it does that.” Auntie continues. “Alright, I think it's time to get back to your training. You look like you have plenty of energy.”

❖❖❖

A few hours later the dancing sand seems to grow in intensity, the ground vibrates under my feet. I’m not the only one to notice, either. The elders decide it is best we move, worrying that the shaking might increase.

Without our gers set up, it takes much less time than usual to pack up. After about an hour of walking up the incline of the tunnel system, we reach the opening at the top of the cliff.

It is dark when we finally breach the surface. It’s strange though, I thought for sure it is still daytime. A glance at the sky shows the moon isn’t visible and the stars are gone. Instead, the sky is a dark grey, barely noticeable in the dim light. I don’t know what it is at first, my attention focused more on the low groaning hiss that seems to grow louder the longer we are outside.

“Everyone, get back into the tunnels.” Elder Cyrus’ words are sharp. His eyes glued to the skies above, and it is only then that I realise the entire sky is an enormous cloud. Its dark grey colour covers every point in the sky from horizon to horizon.

We are about to follow his direction when the hissing noise explodes in intensity. The sound of an eruption of sizzling whips our heads to the ocean. An immense column of steam billows out of the body of water visible in the distance. The clouds above grow darker still with the steam rising upwards.

The ground trembles. It trembles so much more than the measly shaking that occurred up till this point. The world seems to drop from under my feet as I lose my footing. I quickly regain my balance and run to Uncle’s side, holding onto him as the world continues to shake.

I’m too unsettled to focus on anything but the shaking. Uncle puts his hand on my back which helps me steady myself immensely.

When I look up again, I’m met with the shocked, gaping, terrified faces of those surrounding me. Looking back towards the ocean, an intense icy shiver floods my body. I immediately lose control of my form, all control I had disappears as the icy instinctual dread consumes me.

The wide pillar of steam rising from the ocean hides a bright red glow within. The glow rises within the mist and another thrum of the earth echoes in my chest. The steam splits and for a moment I refuse to believe what I see. From within the steam steps a titanic beast. The impact of its claw on the ocean below sends another crashing tremor through my legs. I lean entirely on Uncle to keep upright, my arms blaze red, but I’m too terrified to care.

I’m frozen in my place, I can’t focus on anything but the crocodile calamity. My chest wretches and coils and a sob bubbles its way up my throat. My lips quiver and my inner flame curls in on itself, trying to hide away from the world. An otherworldly terror. Its size dwarfs mountains and sheer mass begot tsunamis. Immense, razor-sharp teeth line its jaw. Its large skeletal spines sear with bright glowing magma rolling down its sides into the water below.

The sizzling sound of water boiling slowly settles into a constant reverberating rumble. My chest trembles as the sound rolls through me.

“Back into the tunnel. Now!” Elder Cyrus yells.

I hold on tight to Uncle as we move back into the depths of the cavern. Another step from the Titan, another tremble of the ground. I’m only able to keep moving with Uncle keeping me upright.

Another quake knocks many to their knees once we make some distance into the tunnel. With some distance from the exit, they are content to huddle and hide.

I hug my face tight into Uncle’s side as we sit on the ground. I can’t get the image of that horrifying, gigantic creature out of my mind. Every time the earth shakes, I’m scared we are about to be crushed under its gargantuan foot. I try to remain as quiet as I can, smothering my sobs before they can make a sound.

The ground continues to periodically tremble. The intensity of each quake only increases as time goes on. Each time the earth around us shakes, a spike of terror runs through me. I clutch harder, hoping for Uncle’s protection and comfort. His hand rubs my back reassuringly, but I can feel him shiver too.

The tremors grow louder, stronger, closer. Horrific apprehension for each upcoming quake makes the time between stretch endlessly.

Cracks and fractures form in the tunnel walls, growing with each subsequent tremble. A crevice opens up far down the tunnel, the cave ceiling collapsing above it.

Then, when it seems like the seismic beating can’t get louder, it stops.

We wait with bated breath. Each moment more unbearable than the last. Until a quake, somehow infinitely more intense than any previous, fractures the tunnel. Fissures materialise all along the walls. The cave ceiling crumbles under the massive movement of earth.

I don’t know if someone calls for it or if it is decided unanimously, but everyone is up and running for the surface. Uncle picks me up and runs for the exit, leaving his wagon behind.

Another quake hits. This one feels like my inner fire is trying to be squashed. Uncle stumbles beneath me and I find myself thrown to the side of the cavern.

The ceiling caves in above the lagging members of my tribe. I let out a cry as I watch so many of my family crushed beneath the stone. My breath hitches and I’m unable to look away as they are buried before my eyes.

“Solvei!” I hear Uncle scream as he tries to make his way towards me on the unstable ground.

I move to stand up when another crash rocks the world around me. The ground under my knees crumbles and I panic, my arms flounder to find something to hold onto. By luck my body halts, wedged between the walls of the new crevice.

I can’t move and the panic in me surges.

“Uncle! Help!”

Terror overwhelms me. I try to escape, but I’m stuck too tight. I scream, but that doesn’t help. Trapped and scared, I can’t stop myself from bawling.

“Solvei! I’m coming!” I hear Uncle call. I see him at the top of the crevice, quite far up. I’ve fallen so much farther than I thought.

He looks like he’s trying to find a way down, when another thundering shake rocks the earth. I watch as the cave above collapses, closing up the crevice I’m now stuck in. The sound of screams and panicked shouts cuts off completely.

“Uncle?” I call, once the shaking stops once again.

I don’t hear a reply.

“Uncle?” I repeat. He can’t possibly be gone right.

“Uncle Rivin? Please!”

I wait and wait, but I never hear a response. He must be blocked behind the cave-in. There’s no way he didn’t get out, right?

I keep trying to tell myself that he is still fine, I don’t even want to consider that he isn’t. I can’t handle it if he isn’t.

Another quake hits and the crevice walls free me from its grip.

Only now I am falling into the abyss below.