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Hejira: Sanguine Wave

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode 26: Rectifier

Gareth finds Sarvah waiting him on the porch of his home. The soldiers disperse, moving throughout the ruined village. He sits beside her, looking to her.

“Do you feel better now, Gare?” Sarvah asks.

“Not really.” Gareth answers.

“Then what was the point?” She turns to him.

“To make sure they couldn’t ever do it again. To leave a message to anyone else who would dare to have the audacity to attack us, without so much as a word. To punish them…” He replies.

They sit in silence for a moment as he lowers his head. He runs his fingers through his hair and over his feline ears, moving his hair back from his face. His hands stop, resting on the back of his head as he takes a few deep breaths.

“So, what did you want to say?” He begins.

“What?” She seems puzzled.

“Yesterday, before it happened… You were going to say something. What was it?” He clarifies.

“Oh… I had found a perfect location for a settlement. It is about two-hundred miles south of here, and twenty miles east of the road. It is a large clearing at the peak of a hill, with a steep cliff on two sides, and a dense forest on the other, with only a single field to approach it. It had not been settled before, and the cliff walls looked very strong.” She answers.

“It sounds very tranquil, and defensible.” He smiles faintly.

“It is.” She nods. “There is even a large lake nearby, and several streams at the base of the cliffs.”

Sarvah looks him over, her eyes scanning his body. She worries about him, looking for subtle clues to his state. Reaching out to him, Sarvah takes one of his hands in hers, before returning his tarnished cross. She hopes that it will bring him further comfort. He looks down at it and grips it tightly. Sarvah had retied the broken string for him. He takes hold of the string and slips it over his head, returning the brass cross to its rightful place, around his neck.

“So, what happens now?” She suddenly asks.

“There’s nothing left for me here… I don’t think I can live in this place anymore. Too many reminders…” He answers.

“Where will you go?” She becomes concerned.

“I don’t suppose you need another hunter, do you?” He poses.

She looks to him with a faint smile, though inside she is elated. While still upset over the loss of Kahlera and Gareth’s sorrow, her heart beats faster at the thought of seeing him daily instead of monthly. Whenever she was away from the village, she counted the days before she could return, and now he is asking to live with them.

“Well… I suppose we can squeeze you in somewhere.” She winks, hoping to amuse him with a double entendre.

“Good… I don’t want to be here anymore.” He sighs as his voice trembles.

He looks back down to the ground as tears well in his eyes. Struggling to keep from crying, Sarvah watches intently. Her smile fades from her face and she scoots closer. Sliding an arm around him, she holds him gently, comforting herself as much as him. He leans against her and controls his breathing, keeping a fist clenched tightly as he slowly breaths in and out. He holds back the sorrow until it briefly subsides.

“I better start packing.” He murmurs as he stands.

Walking inside of his home, Gareth collects his musette bag. He slowly and carefully packs it with the original belongings he had when he first arrived to this world. He takes his ultralight sleeping bag instead of the bedroll, lest it serve as a painful reminder. He finds Kahlera’s orange and black Keffiyeh, holding it tightly in his hands. He places it in the pack, against his better judgement. He finds his large Kukri knife, solid black Keffiyeh, small cook set, several fire starters, and various other survival tools, leaving behind the unimportant knickknacks.

He spends twenty minutes slowly and carefully packing his belongings. emerging from the home, he finds Sarvah standing at the base of the steps, flanked by Naomi, Kelly, Steve, and dozens of Blue Feet warriors and villagers.

“What did you do?” He asks Sarvah, shaking his head.

“I just told them what they needed to hear.” She cryptically answers.

“Is it true?” Naomi asks in a shaky voice.

“Are you really leaving with her?” Kelly presses.

“Yes, I am.” Gareth slowly nods.

“But this is home!” Steve barks.

“This is just a place! Home is where you make it, and I can’t make it here anymore... It hurts too much to live here.” Gareth retorts.

He walks down the steps, slipping his pack onto his back as he stands before Sarvah.

“What about the rest of us?” A Sahvorai woman asks.

Gareth sighs, turning back to the small crowd.

“Why don’t you all come along? No need to split up a good group.” He suggests.

“You mean, join the Feather Fingers?” Another Sahvorai asks.

“Sure… Why not…” Gareth mumbles.

“Gareth is the leader now. I think we should follow him.” Steve says to the others.

“We better start packing!” Kelly exclaims.

“Don’t leave without us!” Naomi urges.

“Then don’t take too long…” Gareth grumbles.

Sarvah smiles, resting a hand on Gareth’s shoulder. Leading him away from the crowd, the Sahvorai all talk amongst themselves. Kelly and Naomi quickly return to their home and pack their bags. Gareth and Sarvah walk alone for a while, but are soon followed by the entire three-quarters of the Blue Feet survivors. Every one of them is going to leave with Gareth and the Feather Fingers.

They take a few hours to gather their supplies and personal belongings, before abandoning the ruins of their old village. Now heavily reinforced with the Blue Feet remnants, the horde begin the lengthy march two-hundred miles south, toward the location that Sarvah had chosen for her settlement. The two tribes merge into one as they stomp down the road, keeping a steady pace. As darkness approaches, they make their first camp for the night.

Gareth shares a simple tent with Kelly and Naomi, as all of the yurts are occupied. He would rather give up personal luxuries for the others. Sitting back and looking at the campfire that Naomi builds before their shared tent, he watches Kelly cooking a pot of stew containing several game animals. He carefully adds spices to the broth containing rabbit and squirrel, along with assorted vegetables.

“Are you cooking or mixing a potion?” Naomi asks.

“They are one in the same, little sister. Spices are the spice of life.” Kelly quips.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘variety is the spice of life’?” Gareth asks.

“That too, but actually spices are tastier.” Kelly retorts, sipping the stew from a wooden ladle.

Though the others seem to adapt to their new situation and the loss quite well, Gareth struggles. He stands and takes a walk around the camp to clear his head, looking at the other Blue Feet as they too struggle to settle in. Many haven’t been this far from the village before, and fewer still have walked so much in a day. A few children rub the footpads of their paw-like feet. He takes a seat on a crate near several tents, leaning forward and stretching out his back.

In his six months of living at the village, he had almost forgotten how arduous such a long journey can be. At the time, his initial journey over the course of nearly two months felt necessary; it somehow made the march easier. He suddenly hears what sounds like arguing. One of the voices belongs to Sarvah. He walks towards the voice, and sees Sarvah yelling at Rinahra, one of her loyal underlings. He leans against a nearby tree, crosses his arms, and watches.

“What the hell do I even pay you for? You cannot follow simple instructions.” Sarvah growls.

“I am sorry!” Rinahra replies.

“Do not be sorry. Be useful… Just… Go away.” She grumbles, waving her hand.

Rinahra quickly darts off. With her head down, she runs right into Gareth, before he can warn her, knocking them both onto the ground.

“I am sorry! Please forgive me!” She quickly apologizes.

“It’s alright. No harm done, right?” He replies.

He reaches out a hand to her, gently lifting her up. She looks up at him sheepishly, nodding her head in response. He has seen her several times in the past few months, as a very loyal servant to Sarvah. She is a feline with black, white and orange fur, in a tortoise shell pattern, and orange eyes. Her long hair is black, and is often pigtailed at each side of her head, with orange bangs; he isn’t sure if they are natural, or dyed with pigments.

She stands a diminutive five feet and three inches tall, with a petite figure, probably weighing around one-hundred and five pounds. She has a thin waist, and a C-cup bust, which looks considerable on her small frame. She uses relatively cheap pigments to give herself Egyptian eye-makeup; black on her left eye, which has an orange fur patch, and ochre on her right eye, which has a black patch. She has a pink nose, with a shorter and rounded snout, much like Kahlera’s. She is the only Sahvorai he has ever seen who wears any form of makeup. She quickly rushes off, disappearing into the village.

“You don’t need to be so mean to them.” Gareth says to Sarvah.

She looks at Gareth for a moment and smiles. His tail sways gracefully behind him as he stands before her. She can’t help but admire his features.

“I’m not mean. I’m just… Demanding.” She replies.

“Well, maybe you could demand in a more polite tone?” He suggests.

“Then perhaps I would not see the desired results. It is simply how I am.” She retorts.

“Not with me… Why is that?” He smirks.

“Maybe you’re special.” She winks.

“I’m not all that interesting…” Gareth remarks.

“You know… You do not need to sleep in that sorry little tent with your friends.” Sarvah says, stepping up to him.

“Trying already?” Gareth becomes annoyed.

“I’m just worried about you. You’re having a tough time, and I want to help you… You’re my best friend.” She assures him. “Besides, you didn’t hear me offering you my bed, did you?” She teases.

“No, you didn’t. I’m sorry.” He begins. “You’re my best friend too, but everyone here is having a tough time. Don’t worry about me, alright? I’m a big boy; I’ll live.”

“Just know that I’m always here for you.” She adds.

“Thanks… That means a lot.” He nods.

He takes a step back towards his modest camp before turning and walking away. Suddenly stopping, he glances back to her and over his shoulder with his purple eyes.

“Please try to be a little nicer to your minions… For me.” He politely asks.

“Alright… I’ll try being weak, or ‘being nice’, as you call it.” She smirks.

Gareth heads back to his camp, walking around several tents and Feather Finger yurts.

“Pardon me…” Rinahra suddenly calls out.

“Hmm?” He turns to her.

She steps out from an open yurt, her head bowed but her eyes looking up.

“Are you alright? Did you need something?” He asks.

“I just wanted to say thank you. I heard what you said to her, and I appreciate it.” Rinahra begins.

“It’s alright. Life is hard enough without having to deal with certain leaders and their attitude problems.” He chuckles.

“I suppose.” She nods. “It’s just...”

“Just what?”

“She’s much better when you’re around.” Rinahra answers.

“... Have a good night.” He says softly.

She bows her head ever lower, watching him as he walks away. He returns to the camp, where Kelly eats even more stew. Naomi lies back, reading her book by the light of the fire, levitating it with her telekinesis and turning the page with her thoughts. Glancing toward Gareth, she waves to him as he sits by them.

“I made sure to save you some.” Kelly hands him a bowl.

“Wow. Self-control? ... I’m impressed.” Gareth laughs.

“Keep that up, and next time the bowl will be empty.” Kelly quips.

After a brief meal, the group lies down in the tent for the night, allowing the fire to die down. Though spring hasn’t fully arrived, the air is already warmer. Gareth slowly falls asleep, staring up at the opening of the tent, looking at the stars. Though he sleeps throughout the night, he is plagued by nightmares. He envisions Kahlera being struck by arrows and falling into a pile of ashes, which runs through his fingers like black and gray sand. He awakens from his nightmare, his smoke grey fur damp with sweat.

“Are you alright, Gary?” Kelly asks.

“Yeah, just... A hard sleep.” He replies.

“I know what you mean. I got use to my own bed; a straw mattress and down pillows beat the shit out of a thin sleeping bag atop firm dirt.” Kelly adds.

They eat a simple breakfast and quickly strike the camp. The horde marches all day, and every day. Every night they come closer, Gareth’s nightmares seem to grow worse. The dreams are different each night, but the context is the same; Kahlera dies and burns away, leaving him with only ashes. In some dreams, he hears the faint crying of an infant that he can’t find. He struggles to rescue his child, but he always fails.

After nearly two weeks of traveling south, they leave the road and walk east, towards the place that Sarvah’s scouts had found for her. By the later afternoon of the second day, they have arrived. It is nearly a plateau, with a single, defensible corridor leading to it, and a vast cliffside on two sides. The forest on the third side is secondary, and far too dense to even walk through without a cutting crew. It is exactly as Sarvah had described it, though only her scouts had seen it; it’s absolutely beautiful.

“I think I will call this new town ‘Wildwood’.” Sarvah says with a wide grin.

They quickly make camp, taking care to place the structures in a grid pattern. Sarvah immediately begins planning the construction of the first few buildings, using the skilled carpentry and masonry of her own tribe. They begin by constructing more permanent wickiups, taking down the tents and yurts as the stick and brush domes replace them. After several days, every home is a wickiup, and Sarvah has designated a logging crew to gather wood from the forest. Masons begin crafting mud bricks at the streams below, mass producing as many as they can.

Though he struggles to maintain his mental state, the nightmares don’t subside. By the end of the third week of living with Sarvah and the combined tribe, he feels as though he is going insane with sorrow. Gareth simply can’t take it anymore. He must do something, but only one thing took his mind off the pain. That night, he quietly packs his bag, leaving out all of the items that are unnecessary. He holds the orange and black Keffiyeh in his hands, but can’t bear parting with it, wrapping it around his neck.

He sets the pack near the entrance to the wickiup that he shares with Kelly and Naomi. That night, as the others rest, Gareth feigns his slumber. He waits until he believes that they will not wake up, then slowly climbs out of his sleeping bag. Using his feline night vision, he uses his claw to draft a simple note in the dirt floor of the dwelling, before laying down his brass cross necklace beside it, carefully picking up his sleeping bag and pack, and slipping outside. He rolls and stows the sleeping bag once he is a distance from the hut.

As he leaves, a pair of orange eyes watch him from a distance. Rinahra had struggled to sleep that night, and by sheer coincidence had walked by when Gareth was leaving. She watches from a corner as he quickly darts off into the wilderness. Without hesitation, she rushes to Sarvah’s own hut, quickly barging in.

“Sarvah.” Rinahra says, gently shaking her.

“Wha... What the hell? What is it?” Sarvah growls.

“Something has happened with your friend.” She replies.

Naomi and Kelly are suddenly startled awake by Sarvah and Rinahra entering the hut. Kelly struggles to turn on a flashlight, forgetting that the batteries have long since died. Using Sunspot, he creates a ball of light that, in the darkness, might as well be as bright as the sun. Sarvah and Rinahra shield their eyes, grumbling at him. Naomi lights the sticks in the firepit with her own aura, illuminating the interior; Kelly quickly collects the ball of light, the artifact disappearing into his closed fist.

“Hey… Where did Gary go?” Naomi asks.

“He left. Rinahra saw him running into the woods moments earlier.” Sarvah replies, kneeling down by note etched in the dirt.

“What? Why the hell would he do that?!” Kelly exclaims as he rubs his tired eyes.

“He did not say anything to either of you?” She demands from the humans.

“No.” They answer simultaneously.

Sarvah looks over the note. It reads:

“Friends,

Can’t cope with the nightmares, or the anger. I won’t need this anymore. Don’t worry; I’m not going to kill myself.

• Gareth.”

Beside the note, pressed deep into the earth, is the brass cross that he had worn daily for the past six months. Sarvah takes it out and holds it tightly. She believes she knows what he intends to do.

“A well punctuated note. Definitely Gary’s handiwork.” Kelly remarks.

Sarvah slowly stands and turns back to Rinahra.

“I am going after him. I have already drafted the plans for the first building projects. I want you to oversee things while I am gone.” She says to Rinahra.

“I am honored, miss.” She bows her head to Sarvah.

Kelly quickly grabs his pack, Katana machete, and his sidearm.

“I’m going too.” He adds.

“That will not be necessary.” Sarvah snarls.

“You know what… Fuck you! He’s my friend too, so deal with it!” Kelly barks.

Slinging his pack over his shoulders, he and Sarvah leave Rinahra and Naomi behind, quickly picking up Gareth’s trail. Sarvah follows his scent for as long as she can, but quickly loses him when he follows the stream, just as Faye had done. She cries out in frustration and fear, before spinning and blasting several trees with her cyan holy bolt.

“Damn it!” She yells. “He is here somewhere! He cannot be far! I will not stop until I find him…” She speaks to herself.

“What are we going to do in the dark?” He asks her.

“I don’t care what you do. Rinahra will run things until I return.” She coldly snaps at him.

Kelly glares at her. If Gareth were not missing, he wouldn’t even acknowledge this woman, but he is determined to find his friend; Kelly’s already lost Faye. He holds up a hand and summons a Sunspot, illuminating the night in a five-meter radius around him. Sarvah shields her eyes, turning her head away.

“I don’t need that.” She grumbles.

“Yeah, well, I do. So, let’s stop talking and start walking.” He retorts.

Sarvah grumbles under her breath. They walk along the stream, desperately looking for any clues as to Gareth’s direction. Sarvah knows how insurmountable this may be, but absolutely refuses to lose him. In the past few weeks she’s grown even more attached to him than she has in the time since they’d met and up until the attack on the village; if she can’t find him, she might as well never go back, for in her heart and mind, it won’t be worth the trouble.