Season of Hytalia

by Jennifer Arntson

  A movement in the corner of my periphery startled me, and I slammed back against the door. Thankfully, I didn’t scream.

  “Lark! What are you doing out here?”

  He stood. “Waiting for you.”

  “Well, I’m ready, let’s go.” I straightened my cloak.

  “We can’t go yet.” He sighed, moving the chair back to its place on the porch. A strange feeling rose in my gut. “Nik is always concerned with ‘free will,’ but I’m not.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re about to see what happens to those who are not allowed into our community.” He reached for the door handle.

  “No!” I shouted, grabbing his other arm.

  Lark was much stronger than I was and far more determined to get into our house. “Let go, Una.” He shook me off. “It’s not the first time; I doubt it will be the last.”

  “Leave them alone!” I yelled as he entered their sleeping area.

  Father sprang out of bed, his blade already in his hand. “What are you doing in here!”

  “Put it down, Tawl,” he ordered.

  “Get out of my house, or I will make you wish you had,” Father threatened.

  Lark shook his head. “This would have been easier if they were still asleep,” he growled at me.

  “I won’t let you kill them!” I cried.

  “Kill them? Is that what you think I’m going to do?” He frowned disapprovingly. “I don’t kill people, damn it!”

  “Then what are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I don’t care what he’s doing here.” Father lunged toward him.

  Lark threw his hand forward, his palm flat and his fingers spread wide. My father froze midstep, teeth bared and blade ready to strike.

  I stumbled backward, the sound of my own heartbeat thrashing in my ears.

  “What have you done to him?” Mother scurried across her bed, desperate to come to his aid. Lark held out his other hand, and she suspended in time, reaching for the man she loved. Her stretched hand became stiff like stone, her eyes glazed with immeasurable fear.

  I ran between them. “Father!” My trembling hand felt the stiffness of his flesh. I spun around, confirming my mother shared his unnatural state. A tightness seized in my chest, and the mark on my back nearly turned black with heat. “What’s wrong with them? What did you do?”

  “I’m going to make them forget.”

  “Forget what?” I clenched my fists at my sides as I fought the pain searing between my shoulder blades.

  “I’m going to clear their memory of us being here,” he said. “I am the one who escorts rejected guests of the camp, Una. This is my job.”

  My head swirled enough to make me lose my balance. Leaning on their bed for support, I shuffled to the end of it and knelt, resting my head on top of their patched quilt so I could still see them.

  They didn’t ask for this. I brought stress and confusion into this house. If it weren’t for me, they’d have their sons, both of them, asleep in the loft above. I’d taken everything from them that mattered. My actions caused the anguish in my mother’s cries when Calish left and the worry they suffered since Marsh and I rode away. I did it all.

  I’d never been faced with such a choice. If Lark removed the entire night, our mission would continue, and I’d return to the camp. We’d come back eventually, wouldn’t we? This wasn’t fair. Leaving them felt wrong.

  “If I don’t finish this, you’ll have to stay here with them. If you want, I’ll let him chase me out, but his memory of this night, the impressions he has of our community, they’ll take root and remain with him forever.”

  I rolled onto my hip, now facing the man holding time still.

  “I pray you choose the alternative, Una.”

  It’s not that I didn’t want to go back; I didn’t want to leave my parents. “Can’t we just take them with us?”

  “Do you really think that after last night, they would agree to that? Your best hope of them joining us is to let me clear everything about our visit, so we can try again later.”

  I stood, brushing my mother’s tousled hair from her face. “Does it hurt?”

  “No. I give them a new memory to account for the time they missed and put them back to sleep.”

  “Do you swear?”

  “I’d let you read my intentions, but my hands are a little busy,” he said smugly.

  I retreated from my father, my heart breaking more with every step. “I’m sorry, Father. We’ll try again. I love you.”

  “They’ll be no different, Una.”

  I lined myself up shoulder to shoulder with Lark. “I’m not leaving you alone with them,” I said, not taking my eyes off my parents.

  “As you wish.”

  A strange golden mist appeared in the room. It circled like a storm without wind, landing gracefully on their bodies until every bit of them was covered. The Charmer held his pose as he gave them new instructions. “You’ve spent all day in the house avoiding the rain. You skipped breakfast, ate stew and bread for an early dinner, and took to bed.”

  I cried when he added the comforting suggestion about Marsh and me. He reassured them that they did the right thing by sending us to the camp where we would be well cared for.

  “You’ve raised them well. Do not worry.”

  At the end of his instruction, he suggested they sleep in and enjoy each other’s company until after sunrise, no doubt a strategy to aid in our departure. Lark lowered his hands, and the dust covering my parents disappeared. Father, as if he were sleepwalking, put his blade down and crawled back into bed with my mother, who had rolled onto her side. He snuggled up against her and buried his face in the pillow just above her head. His arm wrapped around her, and his rhythmic snore resumed as if he’d been asleep for hours.

  “See?” Lark raised his eyebrows.

  “Thank you, Lark.” I covered my parents with their quilt, as I’m sure they did hundreds of times for me.

  He waited, his hand yet to open the door. “One more thing, Una, no one is to know what we just did.”

  “Are you talking about clearing their memory?”

  He nodded.

  “Nobody knows about you?”

  “Just Nik, and now you. I could clear yours, but if you ever searched me, you’d find it, if your mind even tolerated it in the first place. This gift seems to be less effective on your kind once you are competent,” he explained. “There may be a time when I’ll need you to trust me. You won’t if you know I’ve manipulated you.”

  “What about your team? They don’t know about you?”

  “They’ve been witness to it and cleared every time.” He opened the door to lead me outside. I put on my cloak and stepped off the porch. The others waited for us on the road with Rebel readied. “Our ability to let people into our community only works because of the safeguards of gifts like ours working together.”

  I stopped halfway across the yard. “So you and Nik really do rule over the camp.”

  Lark turned, upset by my observation. “No, Una. The Council is the ruling body. We represent less than half of its membership.”

  While I wasn’t swayed by his argument, I nodded slowly as if I accepted his perspective. Apparently, I wasn’t as convincing as I hoped to be.

  “This is the very reason that people are unaware of my gift, Una. Look at yourself, you’re a Seer, and even you are doubting our intentions. That is the very thing we are protecting our community against.”

  Did he expect me to dismiss my impressions because of his quick wit or denial of guilt? Surely he knew the potential of power and influence the two of them held. Free will? One man knew the future, and the other had the ability to erase the past. That is a difficult duo to stand against, if not utterly impossible.

  “We should go if we’re going to meet Paw and the river cats at the game trail. This is not a decision you can compromise on, Una. You either trust what I say is true and come with us, or you don’t, and I leave you
here. The choice is yours.”

  “If I stay with my family, will you clear me of the camp?”

  “No,” he answered. “I told you, you’ll know I tampered with your memory when you assess me.”

  “Why would I if I don’t know you?” I challenged.

  “Eventually, no matter what you choose, you’ll come back. You and I will serve together on the Council.”

  My mark heated up. “Says who?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Nik told me the other night he hasn’t read my future.” I chased after him.

  “He doesn’t have to. He knows his, and you are in it.” He picked up his pace toward the group waiting for us. “The way you get there is your own story. I can’t force it on you. All I know is if you decide to leave us, something else will bring you back.”

  He crossed over the bridge and mounted his horse. I needed more time to process it all, yet time befriended no one. Every moment that passed was one less to accomplish our mission. If what Lark said was true, then under what circumstance would I return to the Resistance?

  I glanced back at my house, hoping for some sort of epiphany. Having none, I shut my eyes and cursed before running to the entrance of the property. My foot slid into the stirrup, and when I landed on the saddle, my body reminded me of the soreness from the previous day’s ride. Lark pulled up his hood and kicked his heels into his horse, telling him to get a move on. Reluctantly, I followed the team, wishing I’d had better control of my gift. If I could only see my own future, I could make more confident decisions.

  Trisk rode up next to me. “Why are we leaving so early?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, albeit short.

  “Did you fight with your parents again?”

  I glanced at Lark, who signaled for us to keep up. “No, I left while they were sleeping.”

  “Oh my,” she said. “They’re not going to be happy.”

  I took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. “I have a feeling they’ll be just fine.”

  And you’ll never remember either.

  Chapter 23

  By the time we arrived at the meadow near the ridge overlooking the valley, Paw and Marsh were packing up camp. Apparently, they made their way there early in the morning and slept in a tent under the trees. I hadn’t forgiven myself for altering our parents’ memories and wondered how much I could safely share with Marsh without revealing Lark’s ability. Rumors were often more damaging than the truth, although in this case I believed the truth to be worse. Avoiding my brother proved easier than I expected. We busied ourselves, me with nonsensical tasks and he with his gear, until Trisk asked me if something had happened between us.

  “I had a few things to do,” I lied.

  “Your belongings have been packed up on your horse since before dawn. What could you possibly have to do?”

  Searching for a reasonable excuse, I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Seer stuff. It’s complicated.”

  Trisk was my friend; a friend who had feelings for my brother. As such, she picked up on the tension between us. Our familiarity gave her the ability to address conflict head-on, not that I invited it. Like it or not, she was right. I couldn’t avoid him forever.

  “Hey,” I greeted him.

  “Oh, hey,” He sniffed, quickly averting his eyes.

  “Did you find anything out about Calish?”

  He nodded. “He’s working. Hard. We had the river cat thing, so…”

  “So he’s all right?” I couldn’t help but smile.

  “I didn’t see him, but the town crier cited him by name in his announcements.” Marsh changed the subject. “How are Mother and Father? I bet they were happy to see you.”

  “Ah, yeah. They were.” I glanced at Lark, who watched our conversation carefully.

  “Were they angry?”

  My head snapped back. “What? Why would they be?”

  “I was supposed to come back after we found the camp, remember? They weren’t upset that it took so long?”

  My face scrunched up as I shook my head. “Nope. I mean, we decided to stop there on the way back.”

  My brother cocked his head to the side. “So, you didn’t see them?”

  “Ah, actually, we um—”

  “Una,” Lark shouted.

  I turned from Marsh, eager to answer the summons. “Yes, sir?”

  “Is there anything I should know about?”

  “We were talking about Calish. Turns out, he’s fine.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  He’s fine.

  Lark’s voice lowered. “I hope you understand the sensitivity of the information you have—”

  “If you’re worried about me sharing your secret, don’t. I don’t even want to know about it.” I turned and walked away.

  The team decided to eat breakfast despite the dozen or so river cats running around the field. There had always been a number of them at the river, but never had I seen so many in one place before. Considering they represented only a fraction of their species, I wondered what their population numbers were.

  “Lucky for us, they’re hungry,” Paw commented. “It’s been hard for them to hunt with the flooding. The fish are staying to the deepest parts of the river, and the cats aren’t too excited with the prospect of getting washed downstream with all the debris from the village.”

  “Is it really that bad?” Ino asked as he rummaged through his satchel for something appetizing.

  “Come see for yourself.” Marsh mounted his horse.

  The rest of us did the same, curious to see the extent with our own eyes.

  The Temple bridge is so far underwater you can’t even see the Chapel anymore!

  The bridge had been built so high, the water never came close to touching it before. The banner poles that displayed the Temple’s flags, pushed cockeyed by the current, stood as the last landmark of its entrances. Other than that, from our vantage point, no other proof remained. The river had quadrupled in width, consuming every building within its borders. The new road, still under construction, came uncomfortably close to the water’s rising edge. A few more feet high and it would be as useless as the former infrastructure was. We weren’t halfway through the season yet. Hytalia had only begun.

  “How are people getting across the river?” I asked.

  “The boatmen are refusing to go any longer,” Paw said.

  “What about the people on the Temple side?”

  He shrugged. “They’re all cooped up on the highest levels of the buildings until the water comes down, I guess.”

  The top half of the Authority Building and the Temple’s turrets stood proud above the river. As indignant as the structures appeared, I couldn’t help but imagine all those people stranded inside. How many were there?

  I may have been one of the last to make it out.

  Surely, they transported the officers across the river. What about the prisoners? How did they decide who to release in the final days when the number of boats dwindled? Why did the boatmen refuse to travel? Did they fear the river or the people desperate to cross it?

  As horrible as that was, there were thousands more struggling to stay dry in the village. All those homes. All those families; what were they going to do? There were still unaffected residences, although if the rain kept up as it was, more houses would be lost underwater.

  “So what’s happening with all the people who lived in these?” I asked.

  “The Authority started requiring every house with more than one room be used as a shelter. They’re assigning Citizens to cohabitate with each other until the flooding recedes,” Marsh informed us.

  Lark refocused our attention. “This is not our problem. We have a job to do. You remember why we’re out here, don’t you?”

  As the team discussed the plan, and how to outsmart a snake, I dismounted Rebel and stared into the valley. Those were not houses. They were lives put together piece by piece then swept away without regar
d. Many had nowhere to go, and if the river continued to grow, there would be many, many more. The sorrow in my bosom ached. Perhaps, as a Seer, I felt their suffering. Most likely, I accepted my own.

  The team prattled on about strategy, but my spirit crippled over the scene below. Did they at least move the prisoners out of the Authority dungeons? What about the wolf in the pit? Did the clergy have to go back after their break, and if so, have they been trapped inside the building, too? Why weren’t more people coming up to the camp? Why would anyone stay in the area when they’d already lost everything?

  I had no idea water was so powerful.

  “Are you ready, Una?” Lark asked, still on his horse.

  “Oh, give me just a moment. Nature calls.” I grimaced as I jogged into the woods. Squatting on the other side of a suitable tree, I shouted, “No peeking!”

  When I finished, I felt the ground shift under my feet. I braced myself and waited for the sensation to pass. I must have stood too quickly. I fixed my clothing and stepped out, finding myself alone. My fellow riders were gone. Even Rebel left.

  “Very funny, guys.” I walked toward the field. “Hello?”

  I ran out into the open, spinning around to find them. Where did they go?

  A loud bang split through the air, and the ground rumbled. At first it started like a slow roll, then it shook so strongly I lost my balance. On my hands and knees, I watched as a jagged line like lightning formed in the dirt, spanning the entire width of my view. The rough compromise tore into a deepening crevasse, and broken pieces of the land were swallowed whole in the widening gap ahead. If I didn’t move quickly, I’d never make it to the safety of the other side. I lunged forward, but the area beneath me collapsed underfoot, tumbling me into the valley below. There was nothing to grab for; everything around me crumbed into debris. A tree at the edge of the meadow toppled over me as we fell into the abyss. I flailed in the air, screaming until my lungs emptied themselves of hope. Falling backward, the rain looked like tiny balls racing against the darkening sky. Dirt, trees, and rocks enveloped my body, and in a flash, my consciousness stopped.