The landscape was changing. The grass became sparser, the trees even less frequent; they were entering Kuwha. When Asha realized that the landscape was beginning to match what she remembered from childhood, she almost felt winded. How long had it been since she had last been back? Was Khari even alive? What about Ebele or Obasi? A pit of guilt bobbed in her stomach. When was the last time she had written? Too long.
Then, the pit started to grow. What if no one was left? What if the slavers had beaten her there?
Asha furiously shook her head to clear the thought from her mind. They wouldn't beat her. "Yuni!" she called. "I'm going to teleport us to my village.
Asha turned to face wide, brown eyes. "Teleport?" Yuni said. "That takes much energy. Are you sure that you are capable of doing so?"
Asha shook her head. "Not here," she admitted. "But there," she said pointing into the distance at a group of trees. "I'm going to use the energy from that copse of trees to teleport us there. It should be enough." Yuni nodded once and they set off in the direction of the copse.
It was blessedly cool under the shade of the grove. "Place your hands on my shoulders," Asha commanded. "It's very difficult to teleport two different entities at the same time, but this should make things much easier for me."
Yuni nodded, hesitantly placing her hands on Asha's shoulders. "Are you sure?" Yuni whispered.
Asha nodded, "I don't make mistakes."
With that last exchange, Asha closed her eyes and searched for the pulsing energy she needed for the magic. With a shuddering breath, she ignored the positively crackling energy behind her: Yuni's human life force. She honed in on the throbbing energy of the trees, deceptively powerful beneath the wooden exterior. She guided the energy into her body until she thrummed with the stolen life forces of the flora.
She pushed the energy out, slow and measured, but with all the force of a tsunami. Though the energy roared in her ears, she could still head the earth shattering crack of the teleportation over it all. Even through closed eyes, the world seemed to distort and then bend back into place, the ground reeling beneath her feet.
From years of experience, Asha knew not to open her eyes right away, but Yuni didn't have that kind of experience. Asha felt her hands slip from her shoulders and heard a small thud followed by a pained moan. "You okay?" Asha asked, eyes still closed.
"I feel ill," Yuni said faintly.
"Close your eyes," Asha advised. "You get less dizzy then."
Yuni let out a weak hum of understanding and all was silent for a minute as both of them recovered. Cautiously, Asha blinked her eyes open, reeling at the harsh sunlight. She shielded her eyes with an arm. "It's okay to open your eyes now, Yuni, but the sun is bright."
Asha's eyes adjusted to the light in time for her to see Yuni shield her face with her hand and open her eyes, squinting, even in her manufactured shade.
"That was..." Yuni trailed off.
"Sickening?" Asha finished in an amused tone.
Yuni nodded wordlessly, still in a heap on the ground.
"You get used to it," Asha laughed. Her stomach twinged and she realized how thoroughly mixed it felt. "Well, not too used to it."
Yuni laughed weakly, propping herself up with one arm and taking her hand away from her eyes.
With a silly grin on her face- something she hadn't worn in a long time- she turned to gaze upon her village for the first time in nearly seven years. When she finally got a look, the grin melted right off her face.
Cold, clammy dread sent chills throughout her body, in direct contrast to the smoking ruins of the tiny town she used to call her home. She was deaf, mute, but worst of all, she wasn't blind. She couldn't look away, blink, unsee it. It was truth, brutal reality. Burning tears filled her eyes as she remembered the worst of it. She'd not written enough.
Her muteness left her in a cold, broken laugh and she wiped away the wetness at her eyes. Her childhood home lay before her in smoldering ashes, and all she could think about was the fact that she hadn't sent a letter in a year.
A hand gently brushed her shoulder before settling softly like a moth. "Asha," Yuni breathed.
In a fit of pure rage, Asha slapped Yuni's hand away from her. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, her words echoing on the barren plain.
"Asha," Yuni said more insistently. "I know this hurts-"
"Hurts?" Asha shouted. "This doesn't hurt! It feels like I'm being ripped apart inside. I can't even describe to you how much this hurts," she sneered. She looked again at the ashes and rubble of her home and let out a cracked laugh that morphed into a keen of pure pain. She sank to her knees and stared wide eyed at her lap; she stared at the hands that did nothing while her village was attacked and destroyed.
Tears warped her vision and then plopped into her curled hands, pooling in her palms. She didn't sniffle or sob or make any more noise until Yuni wrapped her long, thin arms around Asha. Only then did she break the silence. She wept loudly and piteously, her face still hidden, and her eyes closed while each tear squeezed through her tightly shut eyelids.
It was a long time before the tears waned. With a shaking hand, she wiped away the tears that had wet her face. She shrugged Yuni's arms off of her and stood, the paler woman hovering around her. "Are you well?" Yuni asked.
Asha ignored Yuni's question, opting for an apology instead. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice quivering. "I shouldn't have said that to you."
"You were- are- hurting. I will not hold what you said then against you."
"Thank you," Asha murmured. All was silent for a moment, and Asha looked up at the sky. The sun was an orb, hanging in the sky, painting the clouds an array of pinks and oranges. But the haze of dissipating smoke that hung around it was unmistakable and left an acrid aftertaste to the otherwise beautiful scene. "I think I'm ready."
Asha could see Yuni nodding out of the corner of her eye. "Lead the way," Yuni said.
Birthday story, yay 
Okay, let's get started... 
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Donate