"Before the Ascended One came, the world was a near cursed place. The land was harsh, plants grew infrequently and where forests existed, beasts and carrion birds lurked within. Twisted creatures prowled and preyed on mankind, making it near impossible to settle in any one place without risk of danger or massacre. Mankind remained nomadic, it was the primary way of survival, the only way of life they knew. So few were resources, it led to in-fighting amid famines, it led to atrocities and vile actions all for the sake of supposed progress.
Man fought the world, fought to survive, and fought one another.
It is said that Iasion once walked the earth as a mortal man, ever searching for ways to bring succor to mankind. Despite his own weakness, his frailty, he would not give in to despair. His pilgrimage was long and perilous, but when he reached the Zenith, his pleas finally reached the true heart of the world itself. In his abundance of love for his fellow man, he was chosen by the very earth to inherit a power to uplift them.The power caused a change in him, body, mind and soul. Stunning white antlers grew atop his head, his hair shifted to a deep forest green, flowers bloomed scattered within the tresses. It was clear to anyone who laid eyes upon him, that he had become one with the wilds.
Once blessed, Iasion became the divine. Henceforth, he was known as the 'Ascended One'.
He wanted for no temple, for the whole of the land was considered sacred to him. As such, he was rare to linger anywhere long, he spent his days traveling the lands. Healing the earth and spreading the flourish of life, Iasion caused the bitter forests to wither and rot to make room for mankind to make their home and for new things to grow. He would create, he would manipulate the very earth to form mountains and valleys, to bring rushing rivers and bountiful seas. Much and more he shared with his fellows, giving mankind a most valuable gift: a fighting chance to thrive.
Iasion became the savior, incarnate.
-Chronicle of the Ascended, Age of the Flourishing Boughs
The stream that had been so useful on this particular leg of the caravan's journey, had continued to be their guide and company. For a mercy, in truth, given how many miles were still left for them. Farther along, that stream would connect to a larger river, they said. It was with a subdued excitement some of the adults continued talking casually about it, the anticipation of coming across that river. They said crossing that bridge would bring them even closer to the Capital, it would be cleanly marking the halfway point of this arduous, forced fleeing.
Every time the caravan stopped for a brief respite, there was no lack of things to do. It was just as well, for as much as the children complained of feeling as though they'd been walking forever, the moment they stopped their energy seemed to return alarmingly quickly. The way to avoid mischief, of course, was to busy their hands with chores. Amid scattered whining or griping, the result was still the same. The children divided themselves up, in a manner of speaking, in order to tackle the chores.
And, of course, to roughhouse and play in between.
It'd been several days since Hyuna had begun traveling with the caravan, since she'd met the others. While she had remained relatively quiet, mostly observing, her mind was slowly parsing the reality of her situation. This was much like what the other children were doing, each in their own way, but she began to feel more comfortable.
If only by small, intangible degrees.
As she wandered alongside Luka and Rosaline, a woven basket in her hands, she couldn't help but nearly flinch every time a shriek hit her ear. It was laughter, she realized quickly, but the initial sound always made a tension rise up her spine. When she looked over to the origin of the sound, it was what had become the usual suspects. Sinaht and Lottie nearly on the ground in their rough horseplay, Van trying to both avoid being collateral damage and separate them amid his own peels of laughter. If Hyuna recalled correctly, the three had taken up gathering kindling again. Far from the most complicated task, but they often took advantage of the free reign to simply run about and play. This too felt familiar, Hyuna could feel the slightest uplift in her heart upon seeing them run, play, laugh.
She hoped she'd find more reasons to laugh too.
Rosaline carried the largest of the woven baskets, Luka carried one similar to the one Hyuna held, though he struggled more with it then she did. As they approached the stream once more, Rosaline set her burden down with a huff of breath. Standing upright, she wiped her brow and looked off into the horizon.
"Would that they'd made up their damned minds earlier." Her tone was exasperated, still tinged with anxious energy.
The sun still was high enough in the skies, they had hours of daylight left still. Yet, even that seemed too few for Rosaline, judging by her comment.
"But, maybe we'll have enough sun for everything to dry proper, if we're swift." The woman said, nodding to herself. "Swift as sails."
Rosaline was, HHyuna noticed, incredibly nervous all the time. A thin woman with an equally thin, angular face, she had mousy brown hair pulled back tightly and watery blue eyes. Every time she so much as saw Luka move, her gaze was instantly on him, fretting, ever watchful of what he was doing. Luka, the sickly baby she'd raised after his mother had died in the birthing bed, was her most precious and most worrisome child all at once. Her desperation upon seeing Luka those days ago when Hyuna had come to the caravan made sense, all the same. Despite Luka's mention of his uncle Oskar, neither Hyuna nor the others had seen the man. Too polite to ask, they had to simply assume he might've been unlucky enough not to have made it to the caravan. With that thought, no one could truly fault Rosaline for being overbearing about Luka.
Luka and Hyuna set down their baskets in turn. While Luka was slow, almost sleepily moving to start gathering the clothing from his basket, Hyuna was quicker. This wasn't new, she'd done this a number of times and she felt even more compelled to help Rosaline because of it. Small gestures, to almost secretly thank her for her kindness while Hyuna couldn't quite make the words come.
Words...words were always difficult for Hyuna. Even before things had fallen apart, Hyuna had preferred to watch, to exist like a silent little wisp of shadow just on the edge of things.
When you were quiet, and out of the way, you gave others less reason to notice you, for good or for ill.
Crouching at the stream, garment in hand, she wasted little time getting situated. Still not very talkative, mostly, Hyuna enjoyed listening to them speak instead. The girl simply felt better as she slowly eased herself back into something even remotely resembling mundane.
"Why doesn't everyone just do their own washing?" Luka asked, trying to straighten out and untangle a small blanket. He was not doing very well.
Rosaline knelt alongside the pair, with a flick of her wrist shaking out the tunic in her hands, before getting to work washing it in the stream. Her motions were quick, practiced.
"Well, I don't like caring for the horses." Rosaline said, scrubbing the garment roughly. "I hate the smell of the beasts, but others in the caravan don't mind it at all. In truth, some are happy to spend time with the animals, if you can believe it."
The woman made a face like she could smell them, Hyuna noticed. Luka hadn't started washing anything, unlike them, he just stared at his aunt in confusion.
"But, I don't mind washing clothes. It isn't too much different than what I did in the village anyhow." A look over to Luka, while she still worked, not missing a beat. "What I mean, Luka, is sometimes with others, be it the village or this caravan, not everyone is suited to everything. The answer to making things work, is finding where you can contribute and doing it, your fellows will pick up what you can't. It's the only way to make it through anywhere."
She turned a soft smile to Luka and Hyuna alike.
"It's how we're going to make it to the capital together, by helping one another, Ascended willing." A light laugh escaped her. "Even if it's just...by helping with the wash."
Hyuna couldn't help the very ghost of a smile on her own features. She hid it well, keeping her head down and focusing on the simple task of washing. By the end, their arms would likely feel sore, but it would be a pleasant soreness, she thought. It would be one of offering help to others and a tangible task accomplished. It would be much like the weariness of their legs, each bit of exhaustion brought them closer to the Capital, and further from the tragedies of the situations that had thrown them all together.
"What if I'm not very good at this?" Luka asked, a slight frown creasing his features as he was quite obviously behind the curve in getting the washing done. Compared to Rosaline and Hyuna, anyway.
Another sigh from his aunt, this time not so exasperated.
"It's the thought that matters sometimes,too." Rosaline smiled at her nephew with a nod. "You're trying, and sometimes that's all anyone can ever ask of you."
A bit of a sniff, she turned her attention back to the washing, furrowing in effort. "You're young, we've plenty of time to find something you'll be good at, and it'll be your own way of contributing."
Luka nodded, seemingly heartened by his aunt's assessment of things. Furrowing his brow similarly to her, he was then trying to mimic her movements as she washed. It looked a bit funny, it made Hyuna want to laugh, but she politely refrained. The moment was so ordinary, that it began to lull her into a sense of normalcy.
It was, however, short lived.
The shriek that cut through the air made Hyuna flinch. Startled, she dropped the tunic into the water before her. Hands trembling, her head whipped up, looking for the origin of the sound, looking for Lottie. That was her shriek, but it was not one from mirthful laughter.
Hyuna got to her feet and froze.
It happened just as quickly as it had before.
From the relative quiet, the peace of the caravan having stopped for the day, from the casual sound of voices and the work being done to set up that temporary camp, came the thundering of horses. The harsh voices of men shouting followed, added to the cacophony of oncoming chaos. The shriek had indeed been Lottie. Van was leading them, Sinaht with a grip on Lottie's wrist and half dragging her along as the three ran as quick as their feet could take them. They were heading for the makeshift camp the caravan had made, the distance looking impossibly long from where Hyuna stood by the stream.
Behind them, came the men on those shadow-dark horses, their blackened armor with the sun emblem shot right in the middle of their tabards like a garish mockery of the celestial body overhead. Just like before, no banners, no standards or colors anyone would recognize as of the nations that made up the region. The panic was instant, anyone not within the range of the temporary camp, began to make for the treeline. Others rushed to grab what they could carry, to lead horses and pack beasts off the main road. If they were off the main road, perhaps these men would simply keep going down the road, as unlikely as it felt.
They were not soldiers, they were just villagers. No one would scorn them for desperate cowardice, for relenting to the visceral need to live. The rumble on the ground from the horses, the heavy footfalls of the discordant marching of men, all of it was the precursor to brutality.
It would be like Lihshara and Mei Serin all over again.
The initial surge of the ones on horseback, slowed down, then. They were watching the three run and had slowed to give them a chance to get away. So leisurely, almost lazy, giving the trio room to run, giving the others of the caravan time to attempt fleeing. There was the sick amusement in it, dangling the opportunity of survival.
It was cruel, false hope.
One rider broke from the slowed group, heading straight for them. Amid the laughter and raucous shouts of those on and off horseback, those sharing the same blazing sun sigil on their chests, he unsheathed his sword and held it low. The vicious black blade gleamed, menacing even in the sunlight.
His intention was clear.
All it would take was a single pass, and all three would fall like wheat threshed with a farmer's scythe.
All it would take was that sweep of the blade and Hyuna would see them fall in bloodied heaps. They would fall, they would not get back up, and it would be like nothing to the rider. Her head was swimming, she stood there still as stone, staring with desperate eyes. Every expression on the faces of her new friends was being committed to memory whether she wanted it or not.
So frozen, she didn't even realize Rosaline was screaming at her, it was like her head was underwater. The woman had grabbed Luka's arm, and Hyuna's in turn, yanking them with her. Snapping out of it, Hyuna stumbled along as Rosaline was pulling them into the stream.
"Don't look over there." Rosaline snapped, still dragging the pair along despite the way the stream's flowing water combined with uneven ground and stones beneath it hindered swift progress.
"Don't look, just-" Her voice was quivering with a fear she tried to hold back for their sakes. Trying to stay as calm as possible, to be that stability despite her own terror. "Ascended have mercy on them-don't look back, look forward, we cross here then we run."
She was trying to get them across the stream rather than retreating to the makeshift camp. The treeline would've been the safest, but it would require ending up in the path of the armored men and their horses. As quickly as everything was unraveling, even a decision that wasn't ideal needed to be made without hesitation.
Ultimately, Hyuna did as she was told.
She turned away from them. She faced forward, trudged along across the stream.
And the girl hated herself for it.
