The Great War: Chapter 7
Personal space
Ezra stands with a small group of Creationists at the edge of Ica, surrounded by royal guards dressed in violet-trimmed iron armor. He can’t help but feel a little uneasy, even as he stands at the very edge of the group. He likes having some space to move and breathe, which he has none of for right now.
“Alright, Creationists,” one of the guards calls, stepping forward, “thank you all for coming this early in the cycle. On the ground are markings for you to follow, along with the necessary materials you will need for each tent. Each tent should fit within the markings, which will be big enough for three beings to stay in. If any of you are in need of a place to stay, let one of the guards here know and we will make sure you get a tent for you and your families.”
Ezra perks up. Maybe he’ll put in a request for a tent for his family. Sure, they’re a family of four, but they can make it work. Hopefully…
“If you all work diligently, the work should be done before the midcycle is over.”
With instructions finished, the Creationists start forward. Ezra slowly trudges along in the very back, watching the others begin their work. Sure enough, lines have been drawn in the dirt, marking how big each tent will be, along with a small circle in the middle to indicate where the main support pole should go. Large cloth sheets of all colors lay between each of the marks, along with some wooden posts to be used as support poles.
Upon the touch of a Creationist, the tent materials melt into sand, and with their gestures the sand rises from the ground like long serpents and spreads out into the shape of a tent. The basic form of a tent, anyways.
Ezra finds a small spot that hasn’t been claimed yet and sets to work. He turns the soft green cloth and wooden poles into sand, brushing each part lightly with his fingers. He raises his arms above his head, and so too does the sand rise, mimicking the motion. He brings his hands down in a swooping motion, creating a ceiling of sand around him.
He lowers a part of the sand to resemble the central support pole with a finger, then turns and parts the sand to create a small opening in the soon-to-be tent where the entrance will be, facing the road.
He gestures to the four corners of his small plot of dirt, and down stretch four more sandy support posts, these ones to lift the cloth higher up off the ground and prove a little more breathing space to move around. Now all he needs is a large carpet, some pillows, and a lamp, and this tent would feel as homely as a blanket fort.
He snaps his fingers, and the sand solidifies back into its individual components. The posts become wood, and the ceiling above turns back to the green cloth he had been provided with. It flutters ever so slightly as it comes to a rest atop the posts, sagging from its own weight. Ezra holds his breath for a moment, watching the tent with an intense stare.
Watching…
Waiting…
Seeing if it will fall…
“Excuse me?” comes a voice, making Ezra jump and spin around. A guard has pulled back one of the sides of the tent’s entrance, peering in at him. Ezra puts a hand over his heart and exhales slowly.
“Do you need something?” Ezra asks.
“I came to ask if you and your family need a tent to stay in,” the guard replies simply.
“Uh…” Ezra mutters. He shouldn’t be making this decision on his own, should he? Would his family be better off in this tent than in the little room they’re currently sharing?
“Yes, we need a tent.”
“How many?”
“Four beings.”
The guard lets out a conflicted hum. “We’re only permitting three beings per tent for now.”
“Oh…” Ezra mutters quietly. “Well, uh…”
“Who’s in your family, Creationist?”
“Me, my older sister, pa and ma.”
The guard nods back at him. “I’ll see what I can do. When work is done, bring them here and we’ll get you four sorted.”
“Thank you,” Ezra grins. The guard grunts and steps away from the tent entrance, disappearing down the road.
Stepping off the boat and onto dry land for the first time in cycle catches Isaac off guard momentarily. He stumbles down the boardwalk on shaky legs, trying to find his balance once again.
All around him are beings dressed in colorful robes and outfits, milling about as a mass of noise and bodies.
The thoughts of these beings are nothing but background buzzing in his head as he looks out at the bustling port with tired eyes. He can’t rest just yet, though. He doesn’t know how hard it will be to find temporary boarding for a night or two at the very least, let alone until the war is over.
Suddenly, a wave of hopelessness washes over him, stopping him dead in his tracks. The feeling isn’t his, he knows, as it passes as soon as it hit him. He looks around him, curious as to who would be projecting such a strong emotion at this moment, but all he’s able to see are departing passengers from the ship he had just disembarked and large wooden crates tied down with thick ropes.
The strong emotional wave pulses again, coming from somewhere off to his right. Slowly, he steps over to the large crates on the right side of the pier and looks around once again.
Peering over the top of one of the crates he finds a young woman dressed in blue standing on the other side, staring down at the ocean water below her as she stands on a small ledge.
“Hello?” he speaks. The woman appears to stiffen as he spoke, though doesn’t pay him any attention.
Just leave me alone, her thoughts ring in his ears. He knows she doesn’t know that he can hear them, but he’d feel bad for just leaving her here.
“You’re trying to find the courage to jump,” Isaac states, hauling himself up onto the crate he’s been peering over so that he can sit. He didn’t need to read her mind to know that. “I wouldn’t do that.”
He can’t see the woman’s face, but her hopelessness turns into aching heartbreak. Her shoulders rise ever so slightly, tightening as she tries to make herself as small as she can possibly manage.
An image flashes into her mind. There’s an older woman - her mother - and a young boy - her younger brother - bloodied and knelt before a Guardian’s raised sword. The older woman is screaming, and the boy is in hysterical tears. Waves break over the side of the ship as a storm howls around them.
“I lost my family, too,” he says flatly.
The young woman looks up at him wordlessly, her crystal eyes wide as her brown hair blows in the ocean breeze. Isaac just looks down at the water below him.
“You had that kind of look,” he just tells her.
“Where are you from?” she asks him slowly, her voice heavy and tired.
“Port San Ovila.”
“Gardall.”
“I’m Isaac.”
“Anya.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Anya’s eyes begin to water, and she turns away from him to hide them. “Thanks…”
“If you keep standing there, you’re probably going to slip and fall.”
Anya is quiet. What if I want to fall…?
“They’d want you to be strong, you know,” Isaac tells her calmly. “You made it this far, haven’t you?”
Nothing.
Isaac shifts his sitting position on the crate. “I’m the last of my family, too.”
That catches her attention. She turns her face back to him, her cheeks glistening with tears.
“Do you not have any siblings?” she asks him slowly.
Isaac shakes his head. “Just me, mother and father. They’ve been gone for a while now.”
“I…” her voice catches, and she takes a moment to swallow and breathe. Two more figures appear in her mind, of her father and middle brother. Both are small, cast in a shadowy darkness. He can’t help but smile for her. At least she still has family out there. “I’m not the last, but…”
“But?” Isaac presses.
Anya shakes her head. “They’re not wizards.”
Isaac shrugs. “At least you’re not completely alone.”
Anya nods, though doubts begin running through her head once more.
“Want to come shelter hunting with me?” Isaac asks, cutting off her stream of consciousness.
“Why?” she replies.
“It’s better than throwing yourself into the ocean,” he sighs back. “Maybe you’ll even get to see your brother again.”
How does he know-? she begins to wonder. Isaac just smiles back at her knowingly and offers her his hand. Anya stares back at it wordlessly.
“Okay…” she nods, taking it. Isaac helps to pull Anya up onto the crate he’s been sitting on and down onto the other side of the pier. Once on the other side of the crate stack, she inhales and pats down her fur lined robe, collecting herself. She’s far from being at ease, but at least she’s determined to keep going a little longer.
Together with his new companion, Isaac starts towards the heart of Ica. The two push their way through the crowded streets, past fishermen and jewelers and corner cafes bursting at the seams with beings all lining up to order food. And he thought the larger port of San Ovila was chaotic.
“Where are we going?” Anya yells over the crowd.
“Anywhere but here,” Isaac replies, continuing to shove his way forward. Ica is full enough, obviously. Maybe they’d have better luck finding shelter in a different town inland.
Eventually, the crowd breaks, and the two are greeted with a long dirt road lined with colorful tents and golden fields of grain to their left and right leading farther inland. Guards patrol up and down the tents as some chat with a couple groups of beings.
He sets about gathering information. The tents were set up by Creationists not that long ago. They’re new, very new, and the guards are helping to facilitate housing families.
“Tents?” Anya breaths.
“They’re new,” Isaac comments.
“Hey! You two!” a guard calls to them, noticing their staring. They rush over to them in an instant before they can do or say anything. “Are you looking for a shelter?”
“Yes, we are,” Isaac nods back simply.
“Is there a tent available?” Anya asks.
The guard nods his head sharply. “Each tent is three beings maximum. There’s this family of four that needs to get split up; would you mind sharing with one of them?”
“I’d probably like to meet them first,” Isaac replies.
“They’re right over there.” The guard points to a group of four standing in the middle of the road all dressed in shades of sandy orange and white.
The guard escorts Isaac and Anya over to the family. “Excuse me, but here are two beings who are also looking to use a tent. One of you can stay with them.”
The parents are quiet, eyeing Isaac and Anya skeptically. The daughter, who appears to be the eldest sibling of the two, places a hand on her younger brother, who stares at them curiously.
“I’m Isaac,” Isaac greets himself. “I’m an Illusionist.”
“Anya. I’m a Cryomancer.”
The brother beams back at them and steps forward, holding his hand out warmly. “I’m Ezra, and that’s my sister, Ishtar. We’re all Creationists.”
Isaac shakes the young Creationist’s hand.
“You worked on the tents,” Isaac comments with a small grin.
“I did,” Ezra replies with a half-hearted chuckle.
“I just came off the boat.”
“Where from?”
“Port San Ovila.”
“We’re from Mirage.”
“I stopped in Mirage not long ago,” Isaac says. “A bit too warm for my liking.”
Ezra just shrugs back at him. “Well, it’s a desert after all.”
“What’d you do there?”
“We’re librarians,” Ezra replies proudly.
Isaac arches his brows curiously. “Oh?”
Ezra opens his mouth to reply, but his sister Ishtar steps forward and puts a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I see you’ve got a new friend, Ezie.”
“Come on, Ish, we were just going to talk about books,” Ezra sighs back at her lightly.
“Ezra can stay with them,” Ezra’s father tells the guard. “So long as we’re not too far apart.”
The guard nods. “They’ll be across the road from your family, sir.” Ezra’s family are waved to a bright yellow tent with red trim, leaving Isaac, Anya, and Ezra standing in the middle of the road, waiting for the guard to come back.
“That will be your tent,” the guard tells them as they approach once more. They gesture to a tent just behind them, this one a deep shade of purple. “We have blankets and pillows on their way from the palace and should be arriving shortly if you need any.”
“Thank you,” the three chime.
Ezra pulls back the front flap of the tent, gesturing for the other two to enter with a grand wave of his hand. “After you.”
Isaac can’t help but roll his eyes and grin as he makes his way inside. The conversations from the beings outside diminish to a low murmur inside the tent, which is lit by a single lamp resting on the dirt ground next to the central support pole. There’s just enough space inside for three beings to sleep on the ground with a little extra room to keep belongings. He doesn’t know how Ezra would have been able to fit in a tent with the rest of his family to begin with. That would certainly spell a miserable time for all four of them, for sure.
Isaac turns to find Anya and Ezra also standing inside the tent with him, admiring the somewhat-large space.
“It’ll do, I guess…” Anya mutters to herself.
“It’s about as big as my old bedroom,” Ezra nods, placing his hands on his hips confidently. “I can make do for now.”
“My old room could barely even fit my bed,” Isaac can’t help but comment, reminiscing on his childhood home. It was a small house, but it got the job done at the very least, which was to keep a roof over his family’s head.
“So… Isaac,” Ezra hums, “what brings you to Korodon?”
Isaac folds his arms uncomfortably and turns his gaze to the cold ground below him. “My parents were executed.”
Oh… Ezra thinks sadly. I probably shouldn’t have asked…
“I was fleeing Gardall with my mother and youngest brother,” Anya speaks, implying that Ezra looked to her next, “but the Guardians killed them before we made it to Mirage to get on another ship.”
“Wow…” Ezra breathes. “I’m so sorry, I-”
“You didn’t know,” Isaac cuts him off, trying to force at least a weary grin. “What about you?”
Ezra presses his mouth into a thin line and rubs the back of his neck. “We, uh, fled Mirage due to the shift in power. And… well, the disappearances had been increasing at a rapid pace. We weren’t safe there, so… we just left.” They’ve had it so much worse than me, though…
“Don’t feel bad for us,” Isaac sighs. “At least we’re still alive. Right, Anya?”
Anya’s expression is dark and unreadable as she thinks back to when Isaac talked her out of jumping off the pier, and slowly nods her head in agreement.
Yes, at least they’re all still alive. For now.