A New Beginning

Infovision Report:

"The conflict in the southern regions is escalating. The Prim government faces accusations of exploiting peripheral settlements, with some – including Karhen Rouz – claiming that their involvement in the supply chains is not voluntary. We reached out to Prim representatives, but they refused to comment."

Ela, Karhen Rouz Oasis

She stopped at the edge of the Grand Square and took a deep breath. The air was cold and heavy, saturated with the metallic scent of blood and the sickly-sweet stench of decay. Fear crept under her skin, insidious and relentless.

It was the first time since that fateful evening that she had dared to step outside, and now she regretted it. Her eyes lifted to the three hanging bodies, their shadows twisting across the stage in the moonlight like the coils of a whiptails. Each one was a silent reminder of what could have been her fate. Her gaze settled on a colorful ribbon tangled in the hair of one of them—an absurd detail in an otherwise brutally raw scene. Hravs tore at the bodies, their sharp cries echoing through the square in a frenzy of meaningless violence.

She knew them all. The highest trio of the Council. Once the unwavering pillars of Karhen Rouz, now dangling above the platform like discarded puppets. Not even their status had saved them from the fury of the crowd, a tide of long-suppressed grievances crashing down in a wave of destruction. Ela swallowed hard and thought of the unknown man who had pulled her off the stage that night. Without him, she would have been among them.

And yet, gratitude stuck in her throat. She hadn’t wanted to be saved. Not like this. She had wanted to fight and maybe even lose, but with her head held high. But how long would she have kept that head on her shoulders?

TRAITORS

She read the crudely scrawled sign propped carelessly against the stage, making sure no one could mistake the reason why they hung there.

"Twenty-five years of loyal service meant nothing to them. Idiots," she muttered, lowering her gaze, unwilling to look at the scene any longer.

Then, she set off across the square. Her destination was the marketplace, where she hoped to find a man who might help her get out of here. He was one of the traders who had been caught in the crowd that night. Unfortunate enough to take a blow to the head hard enough to keep him down for a few days. She hoped to strike a deal with him—when he left Karhen Rouz, she would be part of his convoy.

She didn’t have to look for long. His wagons, the last ones remaining in the marketplace, stood alone by the wall. An argument echoed from behind them, but by the time Ela got closer, only a portly man with a bandaged head remained. He stood with his back to her, muttering something about “thieving bastards” as he angrily threw crates onto the wagon. He looked like someone best left alone.

“Harrak, right?” she called out loudly enough for him to hear.

The merchant spun around so fast he nearly lost his balance. His eyes scanned her, as if measuring just how much trouble she was bringing with her. His face, lined with years of hard deals, twisted into a suspicious sneer.

“Why do you ask? You looking to squeeze me dry like that bastard before you? If so, don’t waste your breath—I’ve got nothing left. Not a single damn aren.”

“I heard you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Not a chance! I’m getting the hell out of here today, before someone else robs me or slits my throat.”

Ela’s throat tightened. She couldn’t leave that fast.

“What would it take for you to stick it out for one more day and take me with you tomorrow?”

The man narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her once more.

“I know you!” he suddenly shouted, eyes widening. “You’re that redhead who blew the whole damn place up! This whole mess happened because of you, didn’t it?”

A cold shiver ran down Ela’s spine, but she held her ground, her expression as solid as stone.

“How much?”

“Depends,” he muttered, licking his lips as his gaze dropped lower than it should. “I’ve heard you’ve got a pretty… easy-going attitude when it comes to local customs.”

“You heard wrong,” Ela shot back, ice in her voice, as her hand slowly moved to the dagger at her waist. “And before you say anything else, I suggest you think real hard about what I can cut off just for saying stupid shit like that.”

She worried that shutting him down so harshly would make him refuse her outright, but instead, he just laughed in amusement.

“Sharp tongue, girl. I like that,” Harrak chuckled. “Alright then. Eight thousand arens, and you’ve got a spot on the wagon.”

Ela swallowed hard. She had expected a steep price, but this was brutal.

Harrak snickered when he saw her pale. “Yeah, that’s right. Think I’m expensive? That’s what happens when desperate people have no other choice.”

"That's too much," she admitted, and the merchant merely shrugged.

"A thousand less if you leave the knife at home," Harrak chuckled. "Might even knock off a bit more if you promise to keep your mouth shut. But no, not you. You’d rather wave a blade around, huh? Play the hero. Listen, girl, take my advice—heroes around here end up with a noose around their neck. So think about that before you start making threats. And tomorrow, with or without you, I’m leaving shortly after sunrise. So figure it out."

Ela knew she had no choice. She reached out her hand—slowly, as if something was pulling her back. When Harrak clasped it to seal their deal, his fingers were unpleasantly firm and rough.

"At least someone here knows how business works," he sneered. Ela clenched her teeth and quickly pulled away. Her stomach churned. This was a deal she had to make because there was no other option.

As she made her way home, anxiety gripped her. She ran through her options, each one worse than the last.

Her father? He had the money, but she would only hear his scolding voice and rejection again. In his eyes, she was irresponsible, foolish—just another disappointment. After all, he was the one who had forbidden her from leaving with the standard convoy, preventing her from returning to Prim.

Friends? She barely had any left. The memory of their averted gazes stung. She felt sick thinking about what she would have to do, but there was no other way.

Behind her, the screeches of scavengers rang out again, a dark reminder of why she was running—one that steeled her resolve.

The house was eerily quiet. Through the slightly open door to Ked’s room, she caught a glimpse of Lanis, the cook. Her presence here no longer surprised Ela. But that night, when they had brought Reng in, unconscious and broken, she had feared that the woman had come to finish what her daughter had started.

Now she knew she had been wrong.

If it weren’t for Lanis, Reng wouldn’t have survived. But ever since, Ela couldn't shake the image of the cook’s plump fingers—so adept at butchering game—now expertly stitching up the damage Jara had done.

But sewing him back together wasn’t the end of it. Lanis had been coming to their house every day, changing Reng’s bandages, monitoring his condition. Ela had tried to avoid her, afraid of what she might say, but tonight, she wasn’t fast enough.

"How is he?" she whispered instead of a greeting when Lanis’s grim face appeared in the doorway.

The cook gave her a look filled with anger and sorrow, her eyes red from crying.

"How do you think? He’ll live," she answered curtly, her voice hard as stone.

Ela pressed her lips together, searching for something to say that wouldn’t sound entirely out of place.

"I hope you're at least proud of yourself," Lanis stepped out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind her. Her body trembled with rage.

"Why would I be?"

"That’s a good question. Well? Why? Why did you do it?"

Lanis’s question hung in the air like an accusation. Ela opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. What could she say? Images of Reng’s bloodied body and her own helplessness swirled in her mind.

Why did we do it? Was that even the right question? Maybe Lanis should have asked why anyone still lived in this wretched place at all. Reng had been the only glimpse of something truly human in this rotten hole. His laughter, his unyielding hunger for freedom, even when he knew their world was worth nothing. And now, not even that was true anymore.

"I thought so," Lanis stated with disappointment, stepping so close that Ela could feel her breath on her face. "I had hoped you ruined your lives—Jara’s and your own—for something real. But I fear it was nothing more than ordinary lust."

Her voice faltered for a moment, as if the words pained her as much as they did Ela.

"It’s not what you think," Ela tried weakly, but Lanis cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand.

"Don’t you dare, girl. Don’t even try to explain."

Ela lowered her gaze, unintentionally confirming the cook’s words.

Lanis sneered bitterly before uttering a quiet threat that sent a chill down Ela’s spine. It sounded like a curse.

"Fate will find you both one day. Because everything has a price, girl. Even what you took from my Jara."

Ela stood frozen in the middle of the house, Lanis’s words still ringing in her head, sharp as a blade. She clenched her hands to stop them from shaking, but goosebumps crawled up her spine. The pressure in her chest grew, making her feel as though the house itself was swallowing her whole. She needed air, an escape—something, anything—to drown out what she had just heard.

And yet, she understood Lanis.

She had lost her daughter, who had vanished after the festival, leaving no trace. Lanis could only hope she had left with the others who had fled the oasis that night with Gramps’s people. One of them had been Ked—Ela’s last glimpse of him was under the stage, just before her unknown savior had pulled her to safety.

At the thought of her brother, her eyes drifted to the door of his old bedroom. Ked was gone now, but his presence still lingered in the house. His bed, however, was now occupied by Reng’s unconscious body, drugged so heavily he was unaware of anything. Ela suspected her father was doing it on purpose. It probably exhausted him to constantly fight with his daughter, so he had found it convenient to put at least one problem temporarily out of the way until everything was settled.

"Problems. We’re just problems to them," she muttered to herself and carefully pressed down on the handle of the darkened room.

From the moment they had brought Reng in, she hadn’t had the courage to go see him. It was enough that his pale face was burned into her mind and his screams still echoed in her ears from when Lanis had pulled that damned knife from his side.

Now, however, there was only silence. In the dim light of the room, she could make out the unmoving silhouette lying in deep sleep.

She stepped closer and immediately noticed the glass bottle suspended above the bed, positioned so that the potent medication inside could slowly drip through the cannula into Reng’s veins. It was clear that this clear liquid was keeping his mind trapped in a drug-induced haze. His face was pale, his features sharper, as if the days spent under sedation had shrunk him. His eyelids remained still, his lips dry and cracked. Every breath was quiet, barely perceptible.

She had never seen him like this before—so utterly broken.

Ela sat down at the edge of the bed, hesitated for a moment, then carefully rested her head against his chest. She listened to the heartbeat—steady but unnaturally slow and weak.

“I have to admit, I have no idea what to say,” she whispered, finding his hand and squeezing it, even though there was no response. “I’m not good at this. And you lying here, unaware, isn’t making it any easier. And yet... I wish I could talk to you just one more time. But I know that when you wake up, I’ll be gone.”

She fell silent again, studying his face in the hope that he might show some sign, any sign, that he was aware of her presence. But there was nothing.

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid you’ll hate me,” she blurted out, her voice breaking. What would she even say if he woke up? That she was leaving? That she was running from herself and from him? That all she felt now was guilt and fear?

“I had the chance to fix everything. All I had to do was say yes, and Noel would have cleaned up the mess we made.”

She paused again, realizing she was squeezing Reng’s hand so tightly that, had he been conscious, it would have hurt. Quickly, she let go, placing his hand gently back on the bed before standing and taking a few steps toward the window.

Beyond the heavy curtain lay a view of the farms. They looked peaceful, orderly, as if the world wasn’t unraveling. Somewhere out there was Noel, who had taken up shifts in place of both Ked and Reng. Noel, the one who always seemed to have an answer for everything.

How did he do it? How could he keep going while she felt like she was about to collapse at any moment?

“I said no,” she whispered, feeling an odd relief at finally saying out loud what she had feared most. “I know I decided for both of us—and selfishly so. And I know you won’t agree with it, because I’ve seen the way you look at me. I enjoyed your attention, even though I knew from the start that I’d never be what you naively hoped for. Because I don’t want to stay here. I never did. And after everything that’s happened, I know that for certain. I don’t belong here—I belong in Prim, where I feel like I’m part of something bigger. But here… here, there’s nothing left. Just emptiness and dreams I was never able to share with anyone. I wish you could come with me, but I know you wouldn’t be happy there,” her fingers traced the edge of the bed absently, as if needing something to keep them occupied, “because you belong somewhere else entirely.”

A wistful smile touched her lips as she remembered the first time little Reng had seen a real kernal. The massive, majestic beast had filled her with awe, but in Reng, it had sparked pure excitement. His eyes had shone, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to hold back a shout of joy.

“One day, I’ll have my own,” he had told her back then, his grin so wide it was impossible not to believe him.

That joy, that hunger for adventure had never left him. Reng had always belonged out there, in the wild, where there were no walls, no chains. He loved a freedom that Ela could never truly understand—a freedom that only the untamed land could offer him.

That, more than anything, had always stood between them. It was the reason their paths could never truly align. Because she belonged within the walls of a city.

They had both known it.

They had just chosen to ignore it for a little while.

And that little while had just run out.

"And now I can only hope you weren’t lying when you told me you’d leave this place one day. Because I’ve bet everything on that. And when you wake up, you might just get your wish. They’ll throw you out of Karhen Rouz, and you’ll be out there on your own. I just hope you won’t hate me too much for it. Or maybe you will, but you’ll never say it out loud.

Still, I can see it—I can see you blaming me for every decision, every failure. I can hear you telling me I should have saved you. But I don’t know how, Reng. I don’t know how to be the one who fights for a world that isn’t mine anymore. I’m sorry."

She turned back toward the bed one last time, leaning over his face, her throat tightening. The bruises and wounds across his skin were silent testimonies to what he had sacrificed for her. It was as if every injury screamed accusations: I did this for you, and now you’re leaving me.

"Forgive me."

She closed the door behind her, her gaze drifting toward the attic. She knew that what she was about to do would be the final end to whatever bond they had left.

She had a choice—she could still turn back, take the path of Reng’s devoted partner, the future mother of his children.

But she didn’t.

Determined, she climbed the steep stairs and reached behind one of the roof beams. Reng had never kept secrets from her, and a long time ago, he had confided in her about his preparations for the day he would finally have the chance to leave. He had even mentioned his savings. That he had hidden them in the same place he had stashed his childhood treasures to keep them safe from Ked came as no surprise.

The small box was exactly where she expected it to be, and when she lifted it, it was heavier than she had anticipated. Her fingers trembled as she removed the lid.

Inside was more than enough to pay the merchant. Enough for transport all the way to Prim.

Her ticket to a new life.

For a moment, she closed the box again, steadying herself.

She realized just how much Reng must have worked to gather this amount. Days spent hunting, long shifts on the farm—all of it stored away in this small box, waiting for the right day. She felt the weight of her actions, knowing that the right thing to do was to put the box back and stay. But her need to escape, to leave this place behind and start over, was stronger. She convinced herself that Reng would understand—that he wouldn’t want her to stay where she wasn’t happy.

Quickly, she took all the money and stuffed it into her pocket. Then she returned the box to its place and stood still for a moment, her hands resting on the beam. It felt like closing a door she would never open again.

Reng was the past. She needed a future.

When she hurried back down the stairs, she was finally sure—tomorrow, she would leave this wretched place behind. And she would never return.

Waiting for morning felt endless. She heard her father return, listened to his tired sighs as he settled his old body onto his bed. She hoped exhaustion would drag him into a deep sleep, making her escape easier at dawn.

She only closed her eyes for a moment. When she woke, she knew the time had come. Slipping through the house was easy. Still, she hesitated at the entrance.

Something occurred to her.

Then, she turned back and, for the last time, stepped into Ked’s room. For a moment, she stood over Reng’s sleeping form, staring at the glass bottle. Her breathing grew shallow, as if trying to convince herself that what she was doing was right.

Then, she reached out, turned the valve, and felt her throat tighten.

"It’s on you now," she whispered, her voice shaking.

She pressed a final kiss to his cheek.

And then she ran.