Shanar

Shanar looked at a yellow-brown paper in her hand. A paper with a bloodied corner and an illustration of a family. Of a father with his wife on her side and his daughter within his embrace, sitting on stone, smiling happily.

‘Leaving?’ a familiar voice came.

Right now, the men working under her were moving crates full of condiments from her store into a carriage. Shanar had already worn herself city clothes: shirt and skirt made of fabric, not animal skins; ready to move away from the village.

‘There’s no merit staying here.’ Shanar crushed the yellow-brown paper. She then looked at Kayla. ‘Here to take my offer?’

‘To refuse it,’ Kayla answered. Her black eyes never shook; always steady.

Deep down, Shanar hoped that she was joking. That she would accept her offer and join her. No matter how long she waited however, there would be no follow-up.

‘The village is not safe,’ she said. ‘Staying here won’t do you good. I’ll say this one last time, Kayla: Come with me to the city. There, you don’t have to worry about the monster.’

Kayla looked at the carriage. Shanar’s men placed the crates with haste, prioritizing speed over care. There were crates stacked on top of one another instead of being laid on the empty space beside.

‘It has space for one more person?’ Kayla asked.

‘Yes.’ The end of Shanar’s lips curved slightly to a smile. ‘It has.’

‘Take my grandmother instead.’

Her slight smile faded into disappointment. ‘It’s only for you.’

‘It has space.’

‘For you and you only. For no one else.’

Kayla tilted her head, troubled by Shanar’s words. She had lost interest in the carriage; and with no more reason to stay, she was about to turn and leave.

‘I know you, Kayla,’ Shanar persisted. ‘You’re not a fool. You should be aware that there’s nothing you can do. You can’t kill the monster and what awaits you here is doom! Why is it that you choose to stay? When I have given you a way out?’

Kayla stared into Shanar’s eyes. She saw her anguish and she her resolve. ‘It’s not about what I can or can’t do, Shanar. It’s about what I have to do.’

Kayla turned and walked away.

Upon this gesture, Shanar stretched her arm toward her, wanting her to stay. But she only watched her leave, lowered her hand, and didn’t chase her.

‘Where else—’she muttered—‘can I find someone like you...’