The Crossing

Sixteen years ago.

The boy looked out over the dry cracked ground before him, people said things happened in there but no one knew what. People said there was gold in those caves, he didn’t see any caves but people said they were there. He’d traveled for four weeks, and stopped when he saw the line. On his end of the line there was grass, and soil, and there were a few sparse trees behind him. The other side was bone dry, dead twigs stuck out of cracks in the red dirt, the land was completely flat, except for tall mounds of red stone in the distance. The boy took another step closer, apparently people changed over there, how, he did not know. His father had crossed that line seven years ago, and no one had heard from him. The boy’s mother didn’t know he was here, no one knew. He took another step. He would cross that line, and he would find gold, and his father. He just needed to take another step. The boy’s foot rose and planted down on the dry ground, dust puffed up around it. The other foot followed, he’d done it! He’d completed the crossi---!

The boy screamed as he fell to the ground, thrashing.

* * *

Chalvis grabbed his hat off the ground, and dusted off the red dirt, dawn would come soon, the threat of morning sun had other people in the small town sprinting to do their preparations. Summer had arrived. Chalvis groaned, and rolled his shoulders into his tattered, long coat, he hated summer. It would appear he was officially thrown out of the Salt Side. He never understood that name, who could afford salt? The place’s innkeeper was by far the least friendly Congrit he’d ever met. People stared as Chalvis started walking out of the town. Who would be caught in a summer sunrise? His insides told him of the danger, but he convinced himself that he could reach a small butte or an old mine before dawn. Chalvis needed to walk fast if he had any hope of not being fried.

Chalvis shoved a hand in his pocket, then whipped around when he felt something missing. Behind him in the dust lay a watch, he snatched it up and continued on his way. The flat ground shook beneath him, just a tad, but it was worth notice, summer always brought changes. Chalvis continued his trek, the town getting further and further away. He’d spent too long in that outpost, grown almost comfortable. A Self growing comfortable was never a good sign, it meant you could never get rid of them. Even the most wise of Selfs became leches when comfortable. So he’d been thrown out, it was for the better, but being hauled out on his ass like he had could be seen as an inconvenience.

The clouds started to shrivel above, the first sign of dawn, soon the sky would turn its usual purple. A dampened light hung ominously in the sky, he had to make it to cover. A small boulder, almost as high as himself and four times a wide, seemed to be the only thing in sight. And it was still far off. Chalvis bit his lip and started running. Heavy boots digging into the dirt, canteen clanging against his belt along with a knife or two. Chalvis didn't need flint in the summer or much else for cooking, his sharder hung snugly in its holster. It was currently empty, but he wouldn't be running into any trouble at dawn. Other than dawn itself.

A ray of sunlight skidded across the landscape as Chalvis threw himself against the back of the boulder. A moment later light spread out in every direction. Places where winter rains had hidden for months caused a sizzle as the sun searched for prey. Sweat started running along Chalvis’s temples. The heat seemed to boil him. The distant town seemed to be set afire by the sunrise. The red stone turned to a burnished gold. Being inside a house in a sunrise was like being in an oven, which was why most homes were under ground. Chalvis would have preferred his cool dirt room in the Salt Side, but then again, he was alone now. It was always better to be alone, no matter how much the Congrits preached or Charmers tricked. Better to be alone.

A Self never had partners or groups, only minions, which wasn't bad from his perspective. But his perspective was that of a Self, so who knew how others saw it. The sun continued its torture, singeing the already burnt landscape. The clouds had almost completely vanished and they would stay gone until late fall. After a tad more waiting, the sun leveled out for the day. Both the landscape and his body grew used to the heat. Chalvis poked a booted toe out from the boulder’s shadow, the leather smoldered, close to snapping and curling in on itself. Chalvis quickly snapped it back under the shade. Leather was quite handy, it gave you a good idea of what would happen to your own hide. One of the reasons Chalvis never wanted to visit a tannery, another reason was the smell.

Chalvis carefully fidgeted to release the sharder from the holster on his back. Once out, he studied the weapon. A thick wooden handle fastened to a metal core with two deep set bolts, a thick iron barrel, only four inches long, but with a three inch diameter, and the chamber, a hollow space in the gun with a small sliding door. It was used to shoot pebbles and shards of rock at short distances. No one had bullets--- well, almost no one--- so rocks were the closest replacement. Chalvis pulled out the rag he’d stuffed into the sharder’s chamber and started cleaning the weapon. He only had the one, so he took care of it.

He sat there behind the boulder, carefully cleaning. The sky had become purple, with orange streaks in place of clouds. A bird call sounded in the distance, it would almost be safe soon. He felt along the rock, the edges were warm but not burning. Chalvis slid his foot out again, the sun beat down on it but it didn’t smolder. Chalvis picked himself up and dusted himself off, then set out east. Everyone always went east. The feeling always present.

He looked over at the sun, just above the horizon, he would have to deal with it for another sixteen hours. Chalvis didn’t re-holster his sharder, instead he scooped up a small rock and placed it in the chamber. Some people tried to carve arrowheads for sharder amo, but that wasn’t what the sharder was built for, the things would shatter. It was also impossible to aim with a sharder, unlike guns. Chalvis shook his canteen, it was empty, dried out by the heat. He’d gone without water before, his longest being nine days. Though he’d almost lost a limb to manage it.

How far was the next town? There were some rock mounds in the distance, usually shade brought about some sort of settlement. As long as he didn’t run into any Savs on the way, he could stop for supplies within six days or so. Eight tops. Chalvis sauntered on his way. Summer had begun, among other things.

* * *

Haalie yawned as she stretched in her hovel. A beetle scuttled away as she snatched up her hat. Haalie had had a true stroke of luck when she’d found this hole in the ground, it was the perfect place to avoid the sunrise. And there was even a deep hole in the middle of it that eventually led to water. Haalie grabbed the string that was attached to a dented tin cut and sent it down the water hole. Reaching the end of the string she pulled it back up and filled the water bag she carried. Finding this much water was like finding gold. Haalie still couldn’t believe her eyes as she filled the entire water bag. She wished she carried more than one, though that would have been silly before now.

Haalie crawled over to her satchel and fished out her mirror. She crawled to the base of the hovel’s opening and saw sunlight, luckily the opening faced away from the east so she wasn’t burned. Haalie crawled up halfway and turned on her back, facing the sun, she stretched out her hand and raised the mirror partially out of the hole. The sun shined brightly on the mirror, she brought it back down and ever so lightly tapped the glass. It stung, but didn’t burn. It was safe to go outside. Haalie slid back down into the hovel and gathered her things.

Her hat, she was wearing, she gathered up the string and cup, after washing her face and taking a drink. She gathered her dice in the making, two large pebbles she was turning into a pair of cubes, along with her paring knife. The paring knife went into its special holder on the inside of her satchel, alongside three throwing knives, one fillet knife and one average dagger. She rolled up her blanket and buttoned up her shawl, made up of soft leather and was half patches and half original cloth. The water bag was attached to her heavy belt, and hung on the side opposite her satchel. She took off her hat and wrapped a folded over strip of cloth across her forehead to keep sweat out of her eyes, then put the hat back on. Next she put on long gloves that overlapped her shirt sleeves, the gloves had ties woven at the ends which she tightened to keep them in place. Lastly she put covers over her boots, rough pieces of hide that could hardly be called leather buttoned tightly against her calf.

Still crouching in the hovel, Haalie remembered her new gadget, a thin tube made of thick cloth that seemed to be waxed over in some way. She placed one end of the tube into the water bag and resealed the bag around it, the other end of the tube ran up to her head where she ran in through the cloth on her head to hang beside her mouth. She slipped the tube in her mouth was able to take a drink with ease. Haalie giggled with delight, she then turned around and started climbing out of the hovel.

Haalie started to broil as soon as her head hit the surface. The summer sun beat down and caused the horizon to waver where ever she looked. There was nothing near her, except for some rock formations to the almost-far north-east. Haalie whistled through the side of her mouth--- where her top, left, kanine was missing--- as she walked.