by Isaiah Gray
~*~
As my eyes jolted open, they met the gaze of two sets of eyes. Resh and John sat next to me, watching me. I, still in shock, stretched a shaky hand for Resh, who pulled me up into his arms and wings. As we both sat there, my shaken self leaning up against Resh, I heard him whisper. “What did you see?”
I didn’t want to reply. Just that one sentence flashed images in my mind. I wrapped my arms around him as he held me tighter.
“Dad”
All Resh did was just nod. John on the other hand piped up. “What! What happened! I wanna know what that was all about!”
A quick shush was exerted that had John kind of slink back. The sharp tone sounded like it could’ve been me, but it wasn’t. Resh had hushed John, Even though it was something just small like a shush, I hadn’t seen any of that sort of side of him.
Hesitancy in his eyes, John chimed back in. “So... Will someone tell me what all this is about?”
I finally sat up. Wiping away the tears away, I realized that I had quite a few. I had snapped.
“You don’t need to know.”
John nodded anyway, taking a step back.
“Natalia...” Resh said softly as he slipped a hand onto my shoulder.
I just shrugged him off, picked up my gun and headed to the door. “How do we get in?”
John shuffled through the pockets his oversized and sopping wet coat. When he withdrew his hand, he held a key. A key made of bronze, a few glints and glimmers behind the dirt and muck covering the trinket. John rolled it over in his hand and then reached out towards me. “Here.”
I snatched it from his hand and and turned to the door. The lock wass rusty, beaten and deformed – yet the key fit perfectly and turned without the slightest resistance. I pulled open the door, all I could see was a long stairway into nothing, dark for as far as I could see. It unnerved me. It wasn’t frightening or scary, but as you continued to gaze down into the dark cavern of black, something was trying to eat at my soul, eat away at my mind. It made me want to turn away and leave, the thought actually came to my mind. “Caspita! We have to go down there?” I asked, looking back at Resh and John.
Resh gave a face of bewilderment. He knew it wasn’t me to ever even question stepping down from the face of anything. He gave me a confused glare as John took to answering.
“Yes ma’am! Emotion barrier! Kinda freaky huh? Like somethin is trying to choke you from the inside. Every human feels it the first few times they enter. If they ever enter at all that is.”
Resh prodded me along. “Just go down, you’ll get over it.”
I nodded, thankful it was something beyond me that was holding me back. But the answer didn’t satisfy Resh.
John had grabbed a stick off to the side from the door. The stick was covered in a dark, damp cloth. He had his back to us, I could see what he was doing, but I heard a coarse scratch and then a burst of vibrant color rose. It startled me. I had never seen such a glorious color. “W-what’s that?” I asked, watching the flickering, glowing color as it gripped the tip of the stick. The way it moved it reminded me of the blue fire we have in our hearths at home. It flickered in the same way and patterns, constantly moving. I always loved waving my hand through the flames, feeling the fire dance on my palms. It was peaceful.
“What? You’ve never seen fire before? Geez, you really are crazy people.” John responded.
“That’s fire? Why is it... Warm?” I responded, his sarcastic remark going completely over my head.
“Haha! Fire’s always warm! What is it where you come from? Cold!? Hah!”
“Yes. Not temperature I mean, I mean... the color.” The way it danced mesmerized me. Slowly I reached out a hand to it.
“What? Orange? You’ve never seen orange before? Wha- Woah! What are you doing!” He batted my hand away from the flickering flame, but not before pain surged through my hand.
“Ahi!” I exclaimed in Italian. “It bit me!”
John looked astonished. “You’ve never been burned before?”
“Burned?”
“Yea like what just happened?”
“N-no?”
Resh was watching with a slight smirk on his face. He must think I’m an idiot. How could he know this stuff though?
“Look lady, I don’t know what it’s like up there. I’ve never actually seen the sun, but things can hurt down here. Use your senses.”
“You’ve never been outside?” Resh asked.
John shook his head. “Nah, sides’ I like it down here.”
“Like it? With fire that hurts you and all this... dirtiness?”
“What? Your fire doesn’t hurt you?”
I shook my head. At home, I could wave my hand through all the fire I wanted, I could put books and even my hands on stoves or boiling pots and wouldn’t feel a thing.
“Well, like I said, things will hurt you down here. use your brain.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. What are you talking about?
When the exchange was over, John tended to my burn. When he was done, he took the stick – or torch as he called it – and took point down the stairway. About one in every ten steps was missing, and it would keep changing in from smooth stone to a coarse, rickety and rotting wood. It bend so much I thought it was going to snap but not a single board ever cracked. We continued on for quite some time, going deeper and deeper down the winding staircase. Finally, there was light. it was the same color as the torch, orange I think he called it.
“Is there more orange fire down there?”
“It’s just fire... and yes, just more torches and lights, et cetera. Nothing that will be a problem.”
At the bottom of the stairs was a tiny archway. No gate, no walls. Just a small open archway, and I nearly had to duck to get through. Resh had to squeeze through with his wings. What I saw on the other side was nothing I could have expected, and it definitely was nothing I could have prepared myself for. Every step I took through the crowds was a jolt of shock that shot through my entire system.
I expected it to be a large city, buildings made out of something useless like concrete, and a bit of trash on the streets as unlike our cleanliness above.
But, I saw people living in tents and makeshift shelters made with charred wooden remains and hardened dirt that could collapse any moment. There was dust kicked up everywhere. I couldn’t tell if there was a difference between sidewalk and road. Thick red blood collided with the green water and oils trickling into the rusted drains in the middle of the paths.
I expected to see ground running cars at best, maybe transportation boards or some sort of bicycle.
I saw torn up feet, broken sandals, and people walking with barely enough room to move in such the crowd.
I expected to see someone guarding the archway, someone with armor and a weapon.
I saw a blind man in torn and tattered clothes, a walking stick nearly cracked in half, his fragile arm that was all skin and bone stretched out with a cup.
I expected to see a market, a place of business and trading.
I saw people who were covered in mud and grime, begging and groping for even a quarter, yelling out for a morsel of food to spare. The people were scrounging for every drop of water, every single crumb of bread and every sprinkle of rice they laid their eyes on. I smelled dead bodies piled and burning off in the distance.
At one point there was at least ten people reaching out to me, asking for anything, something to feed them, something to sustain them. One woman, covered in a torn shawl and cloak, grabbed my arm and locked her eyes with mine. Her eyes were so bloodshot I couldn’t tell their color. Scars covered her face, her hair was discolored and her teeth were worn and jagged. Her dry, filth ridden skin was a total contrast to mine. I yanked away, her longing gaze pierced into my heart as I slowly backed up. She sat kneeling, staring at me until we both were engulfed by the crowd.
This can’t be real...
I felt like I was in what most call a dream. I’ve ne
ver had one before, but I can imagine this is what it feels like. I couldn’t control what was around me, it was just pure chaos. We walked in a path the crowd made for us. There were two types of people: the ones on their feet and the ones on their knees. The ones on their knees would approach me, yelling, muttering and begging in desperation, but as soon as they saw my sidearm they cowered away. They covered their face and curled up into the tightest balls they could. The ones on their feet paid no attention to me. They focused on Resh and his wings, which were tucked back behind him. They watched in disgust. One even attempted to lunge at him with a large blunt staff, but two men held him back.
Then there was John. Every man, woman, and child approached him with their hands cupped together and out towards him. He reached into his thick satchel and pulled out various items, like a loaf of bread or some fresh tomatoes.The man who he gave it to split it between his kids. John also procured a few glimmering coins, which the ones who received those shouted praises towards the sky, kissed the coin as tears came down their eyes. “Kentiryai!” The people all mumbled to him. John gave a wide grin back each time and repeated it back to them the same.
I tapped him on the shoulder as he gave out the last few sections of bread he had, he turned to me and grinned, his thick bulky satchel now as thin as could be.
“Yes Natalia?” He said.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Sharing!”
“Sharing what?” I asked, confused.
“My lunch!”
“But there’s nothing left for you.”
“Mmhmm. Exactly.” He said, not looking phased by the notion.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around this. Why would he give away his food to them? Does he owe them a debt? Is he trying to make an appearance? Prove something? John turned to keep walking again, but stopped when I called his name.
“Yes?”
“Why?” I asked. I had to know.
He smirked and let out a breath of air. “Because they need it.” And with that, he turned and continued walking.
Che sciocchezza. What nonsense.
We finally split off from the main road, following a slow incline up a path towards a cul de sac of caves. A few people with infuriated expressions on their face followed us for a little while. They were reluctant as they walked off as we approached the door to a small cave. The door was the same condition as the door from above was – except a bit more scratched and chipped, and it didn’t cover the entire entryway. There were slits and holes I could see through, But at least they had a door. Looking around, many of the other caves didn’t.
John walked in, holding the door open for me. I walked in expecting it to be this tiny one or two room kind of thing. But it was big. Multiple rooms delved into several levels of rock.
I nodded, a bit astonished as I looked around. There were wooden cupboards buried in the wall, the only light source was again the orange fire burning from little glass containers. There were table tops and chairs that were not even decent quality. I sat down on one of them. To my surprise, it held me up. “You live like this?”
John turned over his shoulder as he closed the door. “Live like what? This is one of the best places you can get 'round here!”
“It’s just... This is too unreal.”
“What are the caves like up there?”
“We don’t have caves.” I responded. “They’re called houses.”
“I think there’s one of those around here somewhere. There used to be quite a few.” John replied.
Resh chimed in. “What happened to them?”
John took a long deep sigh. “I don’t know if anybody knows, the stories I’ve heard on the street sound like myths, but they sound more realistic than what my teachers say.”
“What have you heard?” Resh inquired again.
“There’s too many versions that I don’t really know what I’ve heard. I can’t tell the difference between the truth, lies and my imagination.”
I wasn’t really interested on how this place came to be the way it is. I just cared about wanting to get out of her and just finish what we set out to do. I wandered around the house looking for a picture or some sort of thing I could find that would give me a background to this kid and his family. But I couldn’t find a single thing. Coming back to the entryway, Resh and John were sitting and talking.
“So why was everyone staring and angry at me back there?” Resh asked.
“You don’t know?”
I was about to go sit down with them, but then I heard a cough. It was faint, I started listening for it again.
“Nope.” Resh responded. “Should I?”
“Yea.” John started, getting up and walking over to the furnace. He took a kettle full of water put a few bags of tea leaves inside. He walked over to the makeshift fire and hung it from a spit.
“You are one of them aren’t you?” John asked
“One of who? Astrian?” Resh responded.
“Yup. At least that’s what they teach us in school. Again though, I’m not sure what to believe.”
Another cough. I looked around but didn’t see anyone else in the room. I started subtly moving about again in the room, listening. I glanced at Resh in time to catch him giving a questioning look towards John. “Go on,” Resh said.
“Well, a group of activists got sent down here right around the time when Astria crashed into earth. They were said to have rioted, killing a ton of people. They came down the streets waving banners and signs, firing blank gun shots into the air.” John made sarcastic finger quote marks when he said “blank” and then continued. “They were supposed to be blanks, but someone switched the ammo. I heard half the group knew about it and were a part, and the other half were not. It was chaos.”
I realized what he was talking about. There was only one event that could match that. It was the same riot, the same chaos that took my dad. Images flashed and made my head spin. I leaned against a wall and rubbed my forehead softly, trying to hide that something was happening. I wanted to hear him out; I wanted to hear more.
“The authorities handled it finally. And the ones responsible were sentenced for their crime. The innocent were all killed in the chaos. The activists were sentenced to where everyone the overworlders don't want.”
“Where is that? And how does that connect it to this?”
“Because they were sent here! For the last two-hundred years, this has been just one big giant prison. Anybody who challenges the way of life, the “cleanliness” of above, is tossed away where nobody has to worry about them. We’re all just discarded like leftovers... ”
Silence: neither Resh nor I knew how to respond to that. We just stared at john, without a word.
Finally, John continued.“Nobody knows how they get here. Nobody‘s ever gotten off. Few have tried to find out, and anybody who’s gotten close has wound up gone, mentally insane or found dead.
“So how did that lead to this?” I asked. If it would tell me anything about who was responsible for that day, I wanted to know.
“When they came, they smuggled resources. Contact with the outside world. They displayed their dominance and ruined what sort of society we had.”
“Who are they?” Resh asked.
John sat thinking for a second. Then he got up and frantically dashed to one of the drawers. He grabbed the handle and yanked the entire thing out of place, scrounging every utensil out. Then that cough was heard again. That was it. I was finding where it was coming from. The coughing was picking up as I walked through the house. I stopped in my tracks when I lost the sound when John yanked another drawer out and it crashed to the ground.
Then I found it. It was coming from behind a dark drape that I didn’t even notice before. I pushed it aside to find a small room. A single candle illuminated the small space. The candle stood on little end table that sat next to a bed. And on this bed, a woman lay. Her whole body was sickly, thin as a bone.
John came running i
n. “Guys you’ll want to see-” he stopped when he saw me staring into the eyes of the woman. A voice called out to me.
“Natalia...”
Images relayed in my brain. It couldn’t be.
“Natalia.”
Impossible.
“Natalia!”
Mom...
John stood there with a hold on my arm. He shook me a little.
“Natalia!”
“W-what?”
“This is my mom.”
I took a closer look at her face. She looked so much like my mom, but she had died so long ago. I only had a few memories and pictures of her left. Studying her closer, It wasn’t her. Her hair color was slightly different, and my mom had a tattoo on her neck of a heart with the letter “N” drawn into it. Frankly, she looked the exact same as when she was sick.
“W-who?”
“My mother!” John responded. “She’s sick.”
I went over and kneeled down beside her. She looked me into the eye and smiled. “T-tea John?” She asked looking to John then back to me. John nodded and hopped off, coming back with a cup. He set it down gently on the table and helped his mom sit up against the wall. All the while, she was smiling at me. She drank some of the tea, all the time smiling but you could tell she was in pain.
“John? What is she sick with?”
John took a deep breathe. “I don’t know. Nobody does.”
Just like Mom...
“Sad.” I simply responded. Resh was in the room as well by now.
Both Resh and John looked at me surprised. Maybe at the first signs of empathy I’ve had in a long while. “When did she get like this?” I continued.
“Ever since I could remember.”
Just like me.
We sat in silence for a bit before John has us leave her alone. We came to the entryway again. “I think I know what you’re after.”
It took me a good ten seconds to realize what he was talking about. I completely forgot the reason we were actually here. I was so wrapped up in the images and memories of my mother. Luckily Resh chirped in. “What?”
John held up a piece of red cloth. An emblem made of golden thread. It was the same emblem I saw from the men who attacked me and Resh. It was the same emblem I saw on the clothes and banners of some of the rioters. It was the same emblem on the flag we found in remains of the capitol building.
John took a deep breath. “I think I know what the group was called. And I know where they are.”
Resh nodded and looked at me with a satisfaction. The Golden Voice had roots way deeper that any of us had thought. I nodded back to Resh and we grabbed our things. “Okay... Can you tell us where it is?”
“Pshh! I’ll do better than tell you. I’ll show you where they are!”
Resh looked at me and then John. With a glance back at me he started to answer. “I don’t think Natalia would be fine with-”
“He can come.” I cut him off. I blinked a few times and pulled all my hair over to one side as I looked at Resh, who looked at me like I was crazy.
“He knows more about it, and is brave enough to try and take you back there.”
“Or stupid...” Resh responded.
John didn’t care; he grinned widely, and after quick stop in his mom's room, arrived at the front door, slung on his bag and picked up his sickle. He looked excited, and it actually made me smile.
