The mourner of the lost world

She was the last one. She witnessed the water evaporating, same as always. She witnessed the rain not falling for years, which was unheard-of. She witnessed the earth turning to sand, under her feet. She witnessed the Earth turning to desert, everywhere she looked. She witnessed wars for water, the death of millions. She witnessed the envy victors, as they died of thirst, felt for the defeated.

She cried. She witnessed her tears forming streams. She witnessed the glorious song of flowing water and her heart sang along. She witnessed the song she expected never to hear again.

She cried of joy. She witnessed when the streams formed rivers and the rivers formed ocean. She witnessed the Death coming to claim her and the fear he felt of her, the fountain of life. She witnessed when something stirred in the ocean.

She was the first. She witnessed as eons passed her by. She witnessed the children giggling in the distance—the children born from her tears.

She cried seeing their naivety. She witnessed their lack of knowledge.

She was the first and the last. She witnessed it happening before. She witnessed that it will happen again.

The Wind-in-the-Grass

Calm evenings at the Shade inn were rare. The low and long building made of the logs and overgrown with vines was near to the western border of the Trokezi tribal confederation. This fact made it a favorite gathering spot for tribal bands venturing into the Moving Hills to hunt for giant beasts and over the Hills to raid Klah empire marchlands. This fact meant a lot of fights. Tonight there were only dog-shepherds, who took care of vast dog herds belonging to the tribal warriors. They were descendants of defeated tribes and captives from the raids over the Hills. The tribal warriors gave them present of life in exchange for their freedom.

Barmaid sporting long braids used rough sandstone to remove the excess of the pine glue of the bar. The crack from the last fight was still visible, but the bar could still serve its purpose, at least till the next fight. This fact made her smile. Her smile disappeared when the foreign woman walked in. Her blond hair, blue eyes and pinkish skin set her apart from the locals, even more than her long cloak and flowing robe. Trokezi had dark hairs and eyes and pale complexion. They were also towering above all other races of Malkene world.

The stranger walked with confidence to the bar and ordered, “Utili stake and wolf-blood brandy for here and three large wheels of dog-milk cheese for the road.” She placed petrified flower on the bar. Klah currency was rare in Trokezi kingdom. The barmaid snatched the token of the counter and hurried to fulfill her order.

“Anything new in Lumos?” The barmaid asked.

The woman gave her a questioning look.

“You carry the Lumos axes attached to your belt. I would recognize wooden owls carved on the top with blades for wings anywhere. The Lumos merchants often visited my village when I was small. I loved mechanical toys your people are skilled at making. Although, I remember their axes as being much longer, and they always carried only one. I’m Borena.” The barmaid blabbered.

“My name is Meira. I had cut off the tops of the axes, so I can throw them and dual-wield. It was a long time since I left Lumos. First, I walked west to the shores of the ocean, then south till I reached the great water again. I visited the islands and the lands of dark-skinned people to the east across the great swamps.”

“You’re searching for something… I met no one who crossed the swamps. Where are you heading now?”

“For three years I’ve been searching and can’t find. I need to check Moving Hills.”

“It’s dangerous up there if you are alone. Many had ventured, but only a few came back. The mountain is always covered in snow and the wind never stops blowing. The wind moves snow drifts all the time, giving the name to the mountain.”

“I still have to go there,” Meira said and shrugged.

Barmaid’s dark coals plunged deep into another woman’s calm sea. She found an answer and gasped. “You’re searching for your child. I have five of my own; I can recognize the pain only a mother can feel. What happened?”

“My newborn baby just disappeared… Sorcery… Witchcraft… I don’t know.” She sighed and moved to walk away.

“Wait!” Borena hurried out of the bar to hug her. “I wish you good luck and protection of Dog-spirit-hive.” Meira relaxed her shoulders, giving herself into a hug, the luxury she hasn’t allowed herself for too long. “Take this. It is a totem of the Wind-in-the-grass. My grandmother made it, she was a witch. He protects the children and their mothers.”

Meira accepted the doll of the baby, woven out of grass and voiced silent thank you. Then she left. Her vehicle - the mechanical obsidian cockroach waited amongst ridding dogs belonging to the inn’s patrons. She crawled into the hole in the cockroach’s husk and pedaled towards the mountain.

***

She lost the count of how many times she had to warm frozen limbs of her vehicle with a torch, making it move again. Only this time she succumbed to exhaustion and low temperature. The torch fell out of her hands and extinguished sizzling in the snow. I’ll lie for just a moment. She lied to herself. The snow was soft and the warmth spreading through her body was so pleasant. Her eyelids closed by themselves. She stroked the straw doll’s bald head, imagining it was her baby. Then she was weightless and could fly on the wind. Maybe her child is in the land of dead, she never checked there. When I wake up, I’ll keep looking.

The persistent giggle of a child woke her up. Her eyes focused on the old woman which was changing blankets covering Meira’s bed. The old woman croaked, “What did I tell you about teleporting all the time? Well, little one?”

Not paying attention to the old woman, a toddler bounced to Meira’s bed, dangerously shifting his weight forward with every step. “Hey wind-carried lady, good morning. Who are you?”

She recognized his sapphire eyes – she saw them every time she looked into the mirror. Gently pressing his head to her chest, she inhaled the sweet smell of his hair and sobbed.