Into The Fire
Nancy forced herself to keep on moving, walking south, away from the man she loved and towards unknown dangers. If she faltered, wavered from her path, she would have gone running back. And that was certain to bring great trouble and torment.
For she was a Disfigure. A freak of nature. Unwelcome in the dominion of Ordefima. Her type had been shunned for centuries, shut in for their own good at the Asylum, branded dangerous….hideous. Her parents were given no say once it became clear she was ‘afflicted’. She had a father who blamed her for what he saw as his misfortune, treating her cruelly when he came to visit. Her mother cried a lot. Nancy had been let out only on special occasions, using the opportunity to gaze in wonder at the glistening spires of the Balaltura or imagine being in the Home of Annals with its towers of books.
Everything changed when Greeson Fontainbleau broke in and released them. His motives were selfish. He wanted her kind to run riot, send panic through the people and bring unrest that he would exploit to seize power for himself. His promises to the Disfigures were never going to be honoured. He was willing to let them get slaughtered for his own ends.
She had seen this in him from the start. She had always been the cleverest one, having a high level of the Disfigure’s ability, reading thoughts and sensing emotions. That’s how she knew that Rupert was different. When he had come to the Asylum, she saw the great pictures in his head of nature at its finest, spread wide across his treasured dominion. Mighty mountains and living forests. And more. He had a bond with people, especially his sister, Socha, that revealed sensitivity. This was the man she dreamed of being with.
And it had happened. Despite his new, exalted position as Marquis she managed to reach him, thanks to good fortune and the kindness of a select few. For a couple of magical days they had been lovers, but they could not remain that way. His people needed him to lead them against a foe of epic proportions, and Disfigures were considered closely aligned to this enemy as their skin shared the same ugly bumps and grey-green hue. There was no place in Ordefima for one like her and certainly not with Rupert. And so she had left.
Though upset, Rupert had made himself understand. He was too fine a man to compromise her bid for freedom or the future of his dominion. Their passion had brought her into womanhood and helped him move on from the grief of losing his wife. It made her realise that success in matters of the heart depended greatly on timing and circumstance. The brief tryst they had enjoyed would forever be kept by her as an earth-shattering souvenir.
His parting gift to her was a map of his she had become entranced by. It showed the many lands that surrounded Ordefima and even more distant ones. Through the vibrant illustrations that decorated it, she could see magical places she craved the most. The high waves of a rolling ocean crashing onto sandy beaches where massive trees were agleam. And there were fantastic creatures: a large, multi-coloured bird; a vicious looking beetle with incredible antenna and razor tipped jaws; a mighty beast that had a big hump on its back and a long neck that supported a massive head.
Though Rupert had never travelled that far himself, he had a brother who had, as well as meetings with several others who brought stories of their adventures there. So he marked in his steady hand several notations to help guide her route to the sea. It was these she studied on her first stop, some three hours after leaving his house in the Rolling Hills. She had traversed the Medial Mountains rapidly, driven by emotional energy. Following Rupert’s instructions took her safely between the mines and the Quarry.
Now she sat in a hidden dip and opened the lunch Rupert had packed for her. She smiled. There was fresh orange which he knew she adored. She spread out her map and considered the longer term options. Her goal was the coast. It was a long way south and west, between which lay empty plains, a desert called the Shifting Sands where the beetles were depicted along with a strong warning of danger from Rupert, and the canyon-lands of Parec. An alternative route might be through the Rumbling Peaks and on beyond to Shignasta and its many islands. However, Rupert’s words written across the Peaks were very clear and in capitals. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CROSS THIS RANGE - CONSTANT EARTHQUAKES, VOLCANIC ACTIVITY AND LANDSLIDES.
Between the two options lay Draden, the dominion of shining towers and a palace of black marble. She had sensed and heard enough during her brief time amongst the elite of Ordefima to be very wary of that place. The city of opportunity thrived on exploitation, using its power and position to dominate. It was visible now, to the south, a crowded place behind a forbidding new wall.
She decided her only realistic choice was to take her chances with the desert. If she was determined she should make it through provided she rationed her water and took the rests she needed. She considered herself highly durable. The lure of her destination was surely strong enough to pull her through.
The reality proved hard to swallow. First, the Plains of Rain were punishing. The empty landscape exposed her to miserable weather. With no target to aim for on the horizon, it became an ever slower trudge. When night fell she turned cold. Lying on her back, shivering, she longed to see the kind of sparkling sky she had admired while on the run in Ordefima, instead of an endless barrier of cloud.
As daylight returned with a whimper and she stirred from an unlikely slumber, she felt a sharp pain in her back. She shrugged it off and set to walking again, determined to survive the Shifting Sands and reach an oasis that was marked as the halfway point
Once again, her desire was greater than her capability. She began to meander. Her energy flagged. What had seemed daunting now became filled with foreboding. Pictures of great suffering came to her. She blanked them from her mind and carried on.
A few hours later, there was a slight break in the terrain, the definite shape of something on the ground. As she got closer, it grew clear this was a person, face down, sprawled out unnaturally. She ran the last few feet and turned them over in her arms. The face of a fellow Disfigure confronted her. She was well acquainted with him, intimately so at her persuasion. He was one of the stronger males. Only not now.
As he choked, she realised his life was hanging by a flimsy thread. His skin had cracked open and turned an insipid grey, his eyes had retreated back into their haunted sockets. She anxiously located her water bottle, cradled him and trickled some liquid into his mouth. She was rewarded by a flicker of recognition.
“Nancy!” he whispered.
“Danoz.”
“I have not done well.”
“Don’t talk, you must rest.”
He shook his head and she saw how strained his neck was. “I’m done for.”
“Not yet.”
He somehow managed a brief smile. “How I remember our times in the Asylum. They weren’t so bad after all.”
She stroked his cheek, feeling how hard the lumps had become. “We had some great moments.”
“I did that painting of you.”
“Yes. I was naked. That’s when we….”
“I know.”
He sank in her hands and was silent. She looked into the distance, into tomorrow, and knew there was no hope for him. The instinct to save him made her persevere. She continued to hold him while he drifted in and out of consciousness. He drank more of her water but refused any food. At one point he became quite lucid and managed to tell her his story, each sentence a short burst.
“I didn’t follow Greeson like you,” he said. “I went my own way. Look where it got me.”
“What happened?”
“I roamed. But Ordefima is not a welcoming place. I asked for food. The people I met didn’t like me. One man called me a Gharid, another told me I was ugly.”
“Assholes.”
“I had to steal to survive. I was so confused. The dominion was not the happy land I imagined. Everyone seemed troubled, on edge. I didn’t like the look of Draden either. So I came this way.”
“And found?”
“Just this. Then I reached some dunes. There were giant beetles running across them. Horrible things. I turned back. I got weaker. Days went by. Don’t remember much more. I think I fell. Then I woke up and saw those lovely lilac eyes of yours.”
Nancy took a deep breath full of dread. “You were coming back?”
“And I go no further.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Sorry. I’m full of wonder for you. Yet even you cannot revive me.”
In a short while, the last ounce of strength drained from his body and he went limp. She felt the spark of life disappear from under her. His light had gone out. After gazing upon him for a while, recalling the mischief they had shared, she laid him gently down. She wanted to create a funeral pyre but had no means. He would have to be left to the elements and shrivel away to dust.
From where she stood it still sounded a fair trek just to the beginning of the desert. To the north, a land that Rupert had called the Preserve, was similar distance away and little known. She examined the minimal rations she had remaining and came to the only sensible solution left for her. She had to seek assistance in Draden.
