The outskirts was as she’d imagined it — ravaged and empty. Those people had been running from something dreadful and the little clues left behind pieced a story in Gany’s mind.

  The crops were burned to a crisp and the stores emptied completely. Usually when something supernatural happened it rarely had such… human reasons. The spirits wanted blood, sacrifices or just plain mischief. Larger and more terrible entities levelled settlements for the resulting souls and its immeasurable power. But this was different. Why would they burn the crops then empty the silos if they had no use for those things. Perhaps a new breed of vengeful spirits roamed but this was highly unlikely. As little as they were understood by the humans there were no stories of morally grey spirits. No, this was human doing through and through. Such was the life of poor, unarmed farmers with the misfortune of living between the shifting borders of warring clans. As she gazed at the mess she could see the left over torches and oil, soot covered huts and shacks of the previous residents, turned over carts and farming equipment, the collapsed well which would take a trio of men weeks to dig. Her sandal caught something soft, downy and she looked down to see she’d tread on a stuffed doll which undoubtedly belonged to one of the small girls here. She clenched her hands and jaw to try to evict the dread of remembrance from her eyes but it was relentless. The surroundings almost mirrored her own. It was all the same. All of it. The burning, the fleeing, the strewn belongings, the doll. It was all the same.

  Months ago, her village had been attacked by the nearby clan who’d been itching like rabid dogs behind an imaginary line for several moons. The villages had been given empty promises of warning before any attack by its protective clan, all empty assurances which had resulted in devastation. Her village was one of those unfortunately located ones. In truth, any village was unfortunate if the clans were powerful and angry enough. The clan had set their eyes on her village, convinced that they were supplying food and textiles to the enemy across the valley. The village elders had tried to speak up, to reason with them both that they were connected to neither. But nothing could stop a rabid dog. Nothing.

  That night, she had gone into labour. Her sisters and her mother awoke to aid her and her husband was sent to fetch water. Her poor, sweet husband whom she hadn’t had the chance to grieve with over their lost child. His departure coincided with their arrival, and the clan had set a wall of fire around the entire valley. Inside, they shot blazing fire arrows and set large barrels filled with poisonous, flammable fluids tumbling down the hillsides. There was nowhere to run and yet all her body could think was to push, push, push with every fibre of her being for the child and family she had dreamt of since she was young. The delivery had gone smoothly but it was what happened after that still strikes her with scalding pain every single time she remembered.

  The moment she was free from the grips of labour, she knew her baby was born. Her sisters, tear filled and shaky, cleaned and wrapped the child and her husband’s voice called from outside the now blazing windows. Just as her hands reached out for the writhing ball of cloths and blood, a barrel slammed into the hut and drew the fire from the window like a magnet. In seconds, everything was ablaze. The heat and smoke burned her eyes to tears. Her hands, her legs, her left side were engulfed in flames as the force of the blast sent her hurtling. Blinded and screaming, she held her elbow over her eyes and reached out with her other hand for something, anything, anyone. Her sisters, her husband, her baby. She didn’t hear a single voice. Her hand grasped the soft toy she had been sewing the last weeks of her pregnancy, a little elephant with enormous ears. Her hand retracted instinctively. It too was on fire, the doll, the little elephant she’d anticipated her unborn child holding. Everywhere she turned was fire. She felt every single lash of heat of smoke and fire and the hot liquid on her body. The aftershock of labour wracked her to her very bones. Her knees were as unstable as a newborn calve’s, slipping and sliding over itself. Her throat burned from smoke and her screams. No matter how much she called for them, only the roar of the flames swallowed her ears. Nothing. Not a sound. Not even from her baby.

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  She still wondered how she made it out of there and recalls the rest of the events like a fever dream — blurry flashes of crackling wood and straw and human flesh as she staggered about to some unknown place. By the time she got to the edge of the valley it was already dawn and the clan fighters had already left hours before once they’d warmed themselves in the heat of her burning village. She looked across the charred valley, still unable to see without squinting and struggling to breathe. Everything was so black she couldn’t tell body from boulder. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

  Pain shot in her jaw and she quickly released her teeth. She had been clenching so hard she almost cracked one. She looked around and realised she was propped next to a hut under the shade, sweaty and taking shallow, quick breaths. Mede was stooped over her, gazing into her eyes to gauge her wellness.

  “This always happens when I remember.” She said quickly as a dismissal. Mede wasn’t convinced and frowned.

  “Terrible hunger.” It said. For some reason, its eyes were very purple, more purple than usual.

  “Fuck you, my family is gone. What do you mean terrible hunger?!”

  Mede parted its lips, then closed them. It straightened up. Gany caught its hand begin to tremble. It whipped its head left and right.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” She snapped.

  “Go. I will follow later.” It pushed the water skin into her hands and disintegrated into fine grands of sand that rode an invisible wind.

  Gany stared at the water skin, her dry lips opening in anticipation. It seemed she’d have to go on alone for now, but she rest her head against the wall. She needed to collect herself first, then she would go on. Mede had disappeared once like this before while she slept but it somehow found her again even though she was in a different place. So be it, she thought. She tilted the water skin to her mouth and guzzled as much water as she could before she needed to breathe.

  “So be it.” She said out loud to herself.