The Outcast and the Survivor: Chapter One, Page 3

exhausted that I slip into a deep sleep, one that unfortunately only greets me with more anxiety. It is as though I am swimming endlessly through a body of empty, hopeless thoughts. It is so bad that when the light comes and I finally wake up, I feel as though I haven’t slept at all.

  I nevertheless press on, reassuring myself that the burdens of loneliness will become easier to bear if I just give myself time to heal. Now that I am beyond the reach of the guards, I won’t have to worry as much about speed and can simply take my time and rest when I need to. If I can manage that, I tell myself, then my emotions will slowly calm down.

  Midway through the day, I find a small pass that cuts west between two mountains. I decide to take it, knowing that I need to relocate the river that feeds the city if I am to find the lake my father spoke of. By the late afternoon, I reach the end of the pass and find a ridge overlooking the river.

  The view of the river thousands of feet below is breathtaking, but so, too, are the quarries on its far shore. I heard much about them back in Kalepo, how they are necessary for maintaining the city’s structures and walls and that they cut deep into the mountains, but only now can I fathom just how much stone has really been taken. It seems like an entire mountain has been removed, leaving a recess in the mountain range that runs along the far side of the river. As I think about it, I realize that I shouldn’t be surprised considering the size of Kalepo and its walls.

  The plateau Kalepo was built on stretches for miles before reaching the cliffs. That is how there can be enough room for the reservoir to the north of the city, the fields on the east and south sides, and the Warrior District and Great Stairway to the west. Kalepo itself sits in the middle of the plateau. I remember it taking several hours for me to run all the way around it. It is so large that I imagine it would take the stone of several mountains to build.

  The Warrior District also would have required a great amount of stone. Although it is filled with much more open space, contrasting with the tightly-packed city, its walls are thicker and higher, particularly on its western side. These extra walls in part further insulate Kalepo from the dangers looming beneath the Great Stairway, but they also provide the Warrior Cult with some needed independence.

  Prior to the civil war, the armies were under the direct control of the royal family, but because the queen and her sister used all of the kingdom’s forces to fight each other, there was no one left to guard the Great Stairway. As a result, the city was attacked by some evil and left in ruins.

  To prevent this from happening again, the queen established the Warrior Cult, which is led by a small council that still must obey the queen in most cases, but also ensures that the festival and the duties of protecting the city are not ignored. That is why the Warrior District was constructed around the Great Stairway.

  The sudden snap of a twig behind me causes me to panic and spin around, but there is nothing in sight.

  “Hello?” I ask as I cautiously step forward.

  The brush before me is dense, and it is hard to see. The closer I get, however, the more I feel that eyes are on me, crawling on me like a bug. Something is definitely there, though maybe I shouldn’t be so eager to find out what.

  Before I can get any closer, the dark silhouette of a figure gets up and flees further into the brush and back towards the pass I had emerged from just moments ago. The swiftness of its flight frightens me, making me feel unsafe. Was it just an animal, or something more? I shudder at the thought and try to forget it as I turn north to follow the river from the high ridges above it.

  In the hours that follow, I hear something now and again, but I press on, trying to disregard it and quickening my pace. As the suns set and darkness returns, ignoring the noises becomes an impossible task, so I move higher toward the peaks, concluding that I will feel more secure in an area with less trees and cover.

  This works at first. The silence that follows is peaceful enough that I almost fall asleep, but then some rustling of grass brings my anxieties back. Although I conclude that it’s just the wind, I’m unable to really get comfortable again, though I eventually drift into a calm sleep.

  I am awoken at dawn by voices somewhere below me. I get up and carefully survey my surroundings from a nearby cliff. To my utter shock, I spot patrols not far to the south. I duck from view before they can see me, confused as to why they have come so far, even through the night, to find me. Mariam must really be intent on catching me. Maybe I am wrong about her. Maybe she isn’t going to let me escape.

  I no longer have time for fears or fatigue. I won’t be able to outrun the guards for much longer if they’ve followed me this far. I need to be swift and decisive until I reach the caves beyond the lake. My father trusted me with something important, and I’m not going to fail him.

  Because I am so high up, moving quickly is much easier on my muscles, though I find myself becoming winded fairly quickly. Despite this, I push through the pain in my lungs as I reach the nearest peak and run along the ridge between it and another mountain further north.

  As I trek forward, continuing to use the ridges between mountains to cut a direct course, I notice a break beyond the peaks just ahead. It is long and wide, perhaps even larger in area than the entire plateau. Once I get a little further along, the source of the break comes into view. It is occupied by a great body of water, which I presume to be the lake my father spoke of. The presence of a lone building on its southern shore confirms this to me.

  I try to move down the mountains as fast as I can, but I am so high up that it takes several hours. As I descend, the sky above slowly transforms from its midday blue to the mixture of red and light-blue that precedes the evening. It is very beautiful, even at this time when the blue sun and the black stars are close together. When they are further apart, the setting blue sun creates vivid red streaks across the sky, while the black star that still hangs higher in the heavens creates a lighter-blue hue, giving the illusion of a midday sky during sunset. Still, the clash of blue and red I see right now on the horizon is itself mystifying and wondrous.

  Finally, I reach the shore of the lake and walk along it, taking in its natural beauty. I have never before seen a body of water that was not manmade. The reservoir in the city is lined with beautiful stone and crystal, but it is also uniform in shape, which takes away from its appeal. The canals and aqueducts that exit it and run through the city are also very straight-edged, which to me has always made them feel artificial and less attractive. That’s why I’ve always preferred the small streams that run through the fields.

  The lake here, in contrast, curves and molds to fit itself into this expanse between the mountains. The trees that line it are themselves disorderly, and in that chaos I find so much more variety and beauty than anything I have seen in the city. The reflection of the ice-capped purple and blue mountains in the water is by itself absolutely captivating, though I have little time to enjoy it.

  Once I reach the lakeshore, it doesn’t take long for me to follow it to the old building. I cannot imagine what purpose it might have once served alone here by the water. Its architecture is like nothing I have ever seen in the city, and from the looks of the broken foundation, it must have been many times bigger than what remnants of it now remain.

  When I step inside, I find that what floors remain are covered by boards of wood. Some of the boards conceal dirt, while others conceal rock and a peculiar cement mixed with decorative pebbles. My steps echo throughout the structure and make me nervous.

  Despite how time has worn the building down, there is still much left of it, and it takes me several minutes to finally reach its southeastern corner. The room there is large, much larger than any of the others I have seen. Its floor also remains surprisingly intact, meaning it could take a while for me to find what I’ve come here for.

  I immediately worry that I won’t find the hidden box before the patrols are upon me, so I run across the room hoping that something will quickly stand out. I notice a couple of open spots closer in
toward the center of the room, but the ground there is of rock, not of dirt, so I keep searching.

  On the eastern wall of the room is a window, and it is just a few feet from that window that I find an area of dirt where the floorboards are broken up more than in most other parts of the room. I pry up a couple, which come loose with surprising ease, and then drop myself down onto the surface below a couple of feet beneath the flooring.

  I run my hands along the dirt, raking with my fingers in search of the edges of the box. Within seconds, I find them, and a relieved and excited smile stretches across my face. My hands brush over the top of the box and around its edges so that I can open it without dirt pouring in. I then lift off the lid and examine its contents.

  The first thing I notice is a collection of several cloth sacks, each one containing some kind of food item. Many of these are the same sorts of supplies I brought with me: salted meats, dried fruits, nuts, seeds, and double-baked biscuits, which are meant to stay good for a long time. The biscuits however, seem to be oddly fresh for being in such a place.

  I hurry and put these items into my pack, which still has plenty of supplies in it, but I welcome the extra weight since it means I can travel that much