Embers of Fall

Ch. 1

Between the rocky mountains, the dark-haired woman hiked through the deep valleys below, her eyes ablaze with fear and determination. She had one goal in mind and that was to get her child safely away from danger.

The blue-eyed men searched for her, combing through the hills and burning the plains, but she made her way further into the safety of the forests and knew the mountains that surrounded her would keep her and her child safe. It was the only place she knew they would not venture into. The valleys held their own stories and dark secrets that frightened away most. But desperation drove her into their depths. She'd face anything if it meant her child would survive.

Wet moss squelched beneath her boots as she walked on, panting, but tightened the fabric that fastened her baby to her back. Her son laid coddled and unaware of the dangers that lurked, comforted by the warmth and presence of his mother. He had only seen one winter and still depended on her for milk.

She did her best to feed him when he grew hungry, even though his latching had pained her. She was one of the lucky few to have no struggles bearing milk, to which her child responded greedily. As a result, her son was healthy and bright, babbling when he was not sleeping and she often had to stop under the shade of trees so that he would not grow hot under the summer sun.

Her own skin was covered in a sheen layer of dirt and sweat and she breathed heavy with exhaustion. She could not hold on much longer and sank deep into the woods, deciding it'd be best to rest for the night. The heat had gotten to her, even with her arms exposed, her dress did little to cool her and evade the warmth of the sun.

Annoyed by the way her hair stuck to her skin, she braided it and unraveled her child from her back. With her baby still cocooned and resting against a near tree, she stood to retrieve what was needed to start a fire. She never strayed too far, keeping her eyes on the bundle she had left to wait for her, then returned upon hearing his cry.

Quickly, she pulled him to her chest, allowing her shoulder and arm to slip free to reveal one side that her child could feed from. She needed to keep him quiet and waited as he fed hungrily, sapping away at her energy. When he fell silent again, she fixed the top of her dress and placed him back down, using the sticks and dry grass and leaves she had found.

Crouching, she fished the flint and steel her mate had left in her satchel and used it to spark up a few tiny flames, then carefully she blew light breaths onto it until the flames grew and began to eat at the wood.

Relieved, she dug a pit around it, then tried to see what was left to eat. She had been in a hurry, unable to bring much as the men arrived without warning a few nights ago. Her husband woke her and gathered her things quickly, urging her to take what she needed and flee with their child. She had known better by then to question him and never had seen him so serious. She did as he told her, scrambling together what she could find within arms reach before he helped tie their baby to her back, then with a hurried kiss, he sent her off.

The thought of him made tears spring to her eyes and she didn't know if he survived against the powerful guns the foreigners wielded. The shots had rang when she ran off, parting from her lover. He stood alone in the burning plains, drawing attention away from their cave so she could escape. Her eyes squeezed shut. She wished she could fight beside him, but they had another life to care for. One that mattered more than anything else.

She heard her child spit and burp and reopened her eyes. She shot him a glance to ensure he was still in the same spot before she returned to searching her bags, leaving what had happened that night in the back of her mind. It was not the time to think of him. She could not change what had already happened, only hope he made it out alive.

Now alone, she'd have to awaken her old spirit. Her old drive. The wild fire that kept her going strong. She'd need to be brave for her child and fierce again.

Her hands found stale meat and a clay pot that rattled with nuts. It wouldn't last her long, but would be enough to lend her some strength. Her stomach clenched with hunger, but she ignored it and moved to try to make them a shelter. She dragged about long and thick sticks, using a tree stump as a pillar of support in which she would built around and upon. Most of her energy had been wasted on towing a big hunk of wood across until she could rest it against the stump. It formed a diagonal angle just high enough to make a great and sturdy roof. She then leaned smaller branches and sticks close together along both sides of the single stretch of wood. Once it resembled a tiny shelter with a triangular opening in the front, she packed branches still full of leaves over the sticks and packed some moss in between the gaps to seal warmth in if the night ran cold.

If it rained, it would be miserable, but it'd be protected enough to only drip the water through. Dusting her aching hands, Navati then scooped up her child who had fallen asleep and held him in one arm as she crawled through the opening. Inside the shelter, she could barely move without disturbing the position of the sticks, and stayed still, laying down with her child tucked close to her chest. The ground was dry and uncomfortable beneath her, but she moved one of her arms under her head, cushioning it, them closed her eyes.

This had not been the worst she had ever went through, but she still was worried about what she would do. The fire would keep them warm and the area lit, but its glow could also attract unwanted attention. But she would take her chances and tried to get some sleep in to regain half of the energy she had lost.