Kaija: Queen of Stone

2.5

We left the water and entered the pines, leaving the place I knew behind. The river faded from my vision and I thought I would never see it again. I awoke in it for a reason and needed to know why.

Right now, I was lost in identity and in memory. Hopelessness washed over me as I thought of how I could escape. I was ensnared, trapped, denied freedom and truth. The newcomer stood beside Jonga, not speaking a word. I wanted to know what he was thinking. Though I was unsure if I'd ever know. I had given up my fight, exhausted from a battle I knew I could not win. Instead, I rested against Jonga's back, my legs stagnant by his face.

The sound of men moving the branches broke me from my thoughts. I craned my neck, trying to get a look at where we were going but so far, there wasn't much to see. The clutter of pines and the dark arms of Jonga were in my line of vision hiding the unknown. The newcomer held onto Jonga's spear. He pressed it to the ground, using it as a walking stick. Jonga's breathing was labored. We had been traveling for what appeared to be hours, but time had no concept when lethargic.

"Home," the newcomer finally said.

I jerked my head. A tall and wide, wooden wall stood in the middle of the wood, tearing between the gaps of the trees. It stretched for miles, hiding away what was on the other side.

I jolted as the newcomer tripped, losing his footing.

"Your mind is drifting," Jonga said with a harsh tone. "You need to think about your feet more than what is to come."

"You know me well," he answered.

"Baria expects us to have a keen eye," he declared. "Where is your clarity?"

I looked at the newcomer, earning his gaze. He stared for a moment before returning it to the ground.

"Get yourself together," Jonga spat.

Jonga halted in his steps, standing still. The newcomer did the same, sinking the hilt of the spear into the ground.

"Who goes there!" a gruff voice called out from above.

A shock overwhelmed me. I craned my neck once more, looking to where the voice was coming from. Atop the wall was a man dressed in a suit of silver armor. Absent from his ensemble was a helm. I could see that his complexion was similar to Hona's, only tawny. His eyes looked inky from where I was situated.

"Warriors of Udan," Jonga answered. "Baria's warriors."

The man smiled. "Prove it, boy."

Jonga's back shifted as he took in a deep breath. A thud passed through my ears when he slammed his fist to his chest. "We are Udan!" he shouted, his voice thundering throughout the land. "United as a clan!"

The man on the wall nodded, and stepped over to the black lever. With a strained pull, the portcullis before us lifted, dividing from the ground. On the other side, showed the dilapidated village it was protecting.

From my angle, a building stood in the distance and before us laid a path of stone. After the gate clicked into place, Jonga stepped forward, entering. The newcomer followed. As I tottered back and forth, I watched the branches swayed as if they were waving farewell. The portcullis sealed, echoing in a clank as it hit the ground once more.

As they walked the pathway, I took in my surroundings from atop Jonga's back. Most homes were decrepit, falling apart stone by stone. Others looked as if a natural disaster had struck. They now were sticks on a foundation of dirt. Playing in the dust were a group of malnourished children. Their bones stuck out from under their skin and tattered clothes while wide eyes gleamed. I blinked back tears, heart aching.