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In Unison: Chapter 1

How does a whole village manage to vanish?

By DEUXQANEPublished 3 years ago 22 min read
2
In Unison: Chapter 1
Photo by Anthony Roberts on Unsplash

The crickets and katydids were abnormally quiet tonight compared to previous days. Usually, after a long day of training the village's kids, I make my way out to this forest clearing on a hill far enough from the village to collect my thoughts. Tonight was one of those nights, and while I usually prefer to have the clearing for myself, I made an exception to have company. Especially for this one.

"Isaac, do you still have that necklace I gave you when we were younger? I'm just curious," Noah asked.

I got up from lying on my back and sat up on my elbows, one hand frantically reaching for my chest and feeling around. I soon felt the small chain there, hidden beneath my shirt. I continued to graze my fingers over the chain. The bump was so faint I almost thought I had lost it.

"Yeah, I've got it. It's still there," I sighed with relief.

"Heh, you should've seen your face. You looked like you'd seen a ghost. I know you still have it. You almost never take the thing off. I'm glad you still do, though."

I smiled at him, even if he didn't see my expression. I let my hand return to the grass and evenly propped myself onto my elbows, looking up. Noah picked a good night to tag along; there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and he knows how much I love to stargaze. He also knows he's probably the only person I'd allow to join me. It's not that I'm closed off, but moments like these could only get better if it's with the right people. Noah is one of them.

"You're one of the few friends I really trust," Noah said. "especially in my darkest moments. I feel safe to have you with me, and to still be here with everyone else. But the thing that I really find odd about you is how you almost never tell me what's on your mind. And not any of that day-to-day stuff, either. Like, what's truly going on in your head?"

I broke my gaze from the stars and looked over at him. Noah. My friend now for well over a decade, asking me what goes through my mind. I'm not an oracle, scholar, or legend, so it's not like I would say anything overly wise. Or maybe I'm being too modest.

"So you think of me, huh?" Noah asked.

"I think about leaving," I laughed softly. I was looking at him a little too long.

Noah sat up, crossing his legs. "Leaving! You want to leave the Ulkarr?"

"Ah, that's why the crickets are quiet tonight," I said sarcastically.

"Alright, wise guy. So if you want to leave the village, who else is going to train the young ones basic survival and combat?"

"You can, silly. I'm not the only trainer—"

"I'm not as good as you are!"

"—who has the survival and weapon skills."

He looked down at the ground for a moment, then upward.

"Besides, you're a lot better with the kids anyway," I added, searching for constellations. "I have to come out here almost every night just to prepare for the next day. If I don't, I get really short-tempered with them, and they don't need that from me. The kids practically flock to you, too."

He looked at me in acknowledgment, then closed his eyes. There was silence. Years and years of knowing each other has taught us to be comfortable with it. It gave us time to formulate well-thought-out answers. Noah was exceptionally good at this, despite the irony of him always asking me to speak my mind. Whether he enjoyed the quiet or preferred someone else to fill the air with chatter depended on whom he was talking to. Tonight he wants me to speak, but now I may have turned things around. Noah opened his eyes, ready with an answer.

"You should do it," he said.

I sat back up again, astonished. "What, you want me to leave?"

"No…" His gaze fell, face painted with concern. "I want you to stay, but I also can understand your wanderlust. You used to wander off a lot when we were young. Is this what goes on inside your head? How long have you been thinking of this?"

"More than a year now, I think. I didn't think you would be supportive of me venturing out."

Noah let out a sigh. "I am and I'm not. Exploring the world outside of home would be thrilling and I'm sure you would come back with plenty of stories to tell. But leaving would also worry me and go against my morals. And there's something about the way we treat foreigners. I think we're welcoming—nowadays, at least—but I can't say we aren't wary. It's just that Ulkarr is such a small and tight-knit village. It's hardly a town. If someone leaves without a strong reason and returns, there's going to be a lot of questions. You know how it is. I know almost everyone here, and because I do, I can't just up and leave like how you want to. I start to think of the children, the other families, our friends …"

"I know, Noah. And I know you. You have a strong connection to the community we have here. And listen, it's not easy for me to leave either. I haven't even decided what day I was going to pick my things up and go."

I got up and walked over to the outer edge of the clearing, where I can get a view of home below. Ulkarr is my birthplace. I grew up with a large lot of fifty or so other kids. We all follow the tradition of getting divided up based on each of our respective families' professions, and then we're taught by our parents and a trainer. You could change professions when you were around twelve to fourteen, but I liked and had a talent for what my parents did. My mother was an outdoor survivalist and my father was a melee weapons specialist, making them a remarkable team. I think their professions wound up turning me into a capable little explorer. I wandered off often as a youngling which was against our village traditions.

Granted, those traditions existed with a purpose. Taking on the professions of your parents preserves and honors the knowledge of our ancestors. Staying in Ulkarr's bounds means you were safe. After all, we live surrounded by swampland, with little contact from the outside world except from couriers. Some part of me believes that we're fearful of what goes on beyond our reach. That's why many Ulkarrans stay here all their lives, and why the whole community is close-knit.

Only on certain conditions was it acceptable to leave: war (which is what my parents left for years ago), pilgrimage, or good reason. On all other occasions, you were a deserter. I was told that in generations past that if one were to desert the village, you were not allowed back. These days, this rule has been less enforced because our population is increasing. It's still common, however, to spend one's whole life here. Now it's considered taboo for one to leave without good reason and expect to return as if one had never left.

I don't think I have a good reason to leave.

"You'll come back though, right, Isaac?" Noah asked. I turned away from home and looked at him. He was still looking at stars.

"Yeah," I hesitated, "… yeah."

"Good," he smiled. "There's something I want to give you." He stood up, brushed the dirt off himself, and flicked an insect off his shoulder. I could hear the soft thud as it launched halfway across the clearing onto a standalone tree trunk.

"Stay here, I'll be back," he said, walking towards the path back home. "Try not to fall asleep!" I watched as he casually clawed a piece of bark off an unlucky tree on the way down. Noah has a knack for leaving his mark somewhere.

I laughed to myself and shook my head, then made a few steps back to where I was lying down earlier. The grass was still flat. Were we here that long? How long will it be until he comes back? Is it a present? Another necklace or piece of jewelry? I laid myself flat on the grass and let my mind unravel.

Home is a little ways away down from this hill, where I've lived all my life, and all that I've ever known. Couriers will sometimes come and go, but I never get the chance to ask where they're from. I could still change my mind and stay here, too. It's not even awful here. I don't have to leave. Would Noah retract the thing he wanted to give me if I told him I was going to stay?

No, I can't wait anymore. I have to know what's out there. When I'm done training the kids tomorrow, I'm leaving. And Noah's coming with me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I had fallen asleep. I was dreaming about someone talking to me, but they were too far away for me to hear them. When I tried moving closer to them better, I fell, which jolted me awake. It was still dark. The constellations above had shifted some, so it may have been only a couple of hours. I took a deep breath, got up on the exhale, and stretched. I should go back to my actual bed. Looking down, the grass where Noah sat before was now standing upright, and my index finger lightly traced the necklace that was still hidden behind my shirt. But something off about this whole forest:

The crickets and katydids were not making any sounds. Everywhere around me was silent. Colder, even.

I walked over to the edge of the clearing again to look down at Ulkarr. The perimeter of the village is surrounded by towering upright logs, placed side by side, made from the trees that once stood in what is now the clearing. The perimeter is in the shape of a rectangle with three gates; two of the gates rest opposite of one another, creating a long straight path through. The third gate (one I pass frequently) faces this forest, and will almost immediately put you on the path towards it. We normally shut the gates when the sun starts to go down, and have night watchers and guards to protect the walls. When it gets dark, a bonfire in the village's center is created and maintained to repel insects, deter wild animals, and serves as a quaint talk space for those of us who are still awake.

But tonight, all the gates are wide open, and the bonfire was extinguished. The only thing moving inside the village is a plume of smoke emanating from the remnants of the fire. I rubbed my eyes and looked again.

Ulkarr is dark.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I darted from the clearing towards the winding path back home, hoping what I saw was an illusion. I ran through thickets and leaped over rocks to get home faster, falling several times. There were cuts and scrapes on my hands, legs, and torso. Despite the pain, I kept up the pace. From the pale moonlight, I could see the open gate drawing closer and the walls rising higher as I approached. I wondered if somebody would stop me at the gate when I entered, or if anyone would be there. Gods, at least let Noah be there. Maybe he could tell me what has happened to our home.

I slowed down as I approached the gate. Nobody was there. Even the watchtowers appeared empty. The adrenaline in me wore off quickly, causing me to wince from every hit I took on the way down. The houses near the gate were completely dark from within. The further I went looking through, the more lightless houses I saw. Some people's doors were left open, others partially shut, and some torn off the hinges. I glanced up at the plume of smoke from the village's center bonfire, which continued to rise. My stomach was in knots. This had to have been recent. And if this is recent, I don't know what could have done all of this. I want to call out, but I don't know if it's safe, or if who or what did this is still here.

As the only other moving object in the village, I chose to investigate the plume of smoke. My heart would not stop pounding as I walked closer to it. From examining the woodpile, there was some kindling crackling weakly beneath the firewood. Few embers were escaping. I tried to look for the method that extinguished the flame, but found no water or added dirt to stop the combustion. Besides, if it were water, why do some embers remain? There didn't seem to be any dirt covering the wood, either. I coughed from getting a bit too close to the smoke, and heard my cough echo through the village. Nervous, I covered my mouth and hoped nobody was alerted. No other sound came after me. In my rising fear, I briskly walked to Noah's house several paces away from the bonfire. I brought my shirt up to my mouth to stifle any more remaining coughs. I don't have very many options left. I need to find Noah and, if nothing else, grab my things, and leave.

I had so many questions running through my head. How do you manage to make several hundred people vanish? How can a large fire be put out without any water or heaps of dirt? Was anybody hurt? Did anyone else escape, or even know about this whole thing happening? What if nobody escaped? What if I'm the only one?

I shivered as the last thought crossed my mind.

When I got close to his house, I looked up at the second-floor window for any light. Still dark, just like all the other houses. I stepped onto the porch and walked up to the front door left ajar. Walking in, much of the furniture on the first floor had been left untouched. It's an open space with a living area and a kitchen towards the back, and a staircase on the left leading up to his bedroom. Noah's house sits somewhat off-center from where the village bonfire is set up, but is on that same straightaway between the gates. Once you stepped out of his house, you could see each gate on the left and right sides. Just yesterday I was sitting on his porch waiting for him so we could eat our first meal of the day. Now the house is dim, with moonlight peering through the windows and my healthy vision in the dark.

I moved to the back of the house, towards the kitchen. There had been a sandwich resting on the counter, with a single bite taken out of it. Noah has a habit of eating and doing something else simultaneously, believing it made him more productive. I chuckled to myself. It's like he leaves a trail of himself wherever he goes. Better if I just left the food alone. I walked over to the stairs hoping Noah would be in his room hiding, sleeping, or at least there. The creaking stairs sounded ten times louder than I remembered. When I reached the top of the steps, I turned to get a full look at his bedroom.

The amount of blood was startling. It was on the floor, the walls, and almost every piece of furniture. The lantern Noah kept on his desk was now on the floor, but somehow unbroken. His bed had been moved into the corner at an odd angle, with the sheets ruffled and draped off the edge of the bed. The floorboards were scratched. Of the two chairs, one had been thrown across and into the wall, with its pieces strewn halfway across the floor. The second chair was knocked over near his desk, and the desk too was pushed into the corner, with all of its other contents now on the floor. I cautiously stepped further into the room, hand gliding on the banister. Whatever happened here, a fight took place. But whose blood is this? And where is Noah?

I felt something wet on my hand from touching the banister. I pulled away from it and looked at my palm. More blood. In a disgusted panic, I immediately wiped my hand on my pants, checking repeatedly to see if I had gotten it all off. Still there. I spat in my hand and tried to smear it away. Some still there. I wiped it on my shirt, then settled with the fact it won't completely be brushed away. With this in mind, I lazily wiped my hand over my chest one last time. Then again. Something's missing. I felt around my chest for that faint lump of the necklace Noah gave me.

It was gone.

My fingers lightly traced where the necklace would have been. Of all the things I could lose, why the necklace? A lump grew in my throat, and my breath became frantic. Choking back tears, I covered my mouth to stifle myself. My feet staggered backward just to get away from all of this. I backed into a wall and slid down to the floor. My thoughts were running rampant. There is way too much blood here. Could someone have survived this? I don't understand what happened. Is Noah alive? I can't find his body. It's nowhere to be found. If this is Noah's room, what about everyone else's? Do the other houses look like this on the inside? How could I have lost the necklace? I can't believe it's gone. The necklace is gone. I've worn that for years. I lost it, he trusted me with it, and now it's gone. I wasn't there to protect him. I couldn't protect anyone.

I brought my knees to my chest trying to hold myself together, but I could not stop trembling. Everything was spinning. I was getting nauseous. I need to shut my eyes. Before I knew it, I was tilted over onto my side, sniffling and trying to hold onto the floor for an ounce of control. Please don’t let me cry out loud. Whatever did this could still be out there. I don’t want to be seen like this. All I want is to calm my breathing, but I keep gasping for air. My throat feels like it's closing on me. This is way too much to bear.

I felt like Noah when he first got the news his parents and younger sister, Vensa, went missing in the same war my parents fought. I received the same news of my own parents, but Noah took his news terribly. His family had such a strong dedication to the people of Ulkarr, and Noah was no different. If anyone passed on or went missing in our village, Noah and his family were the first to give condolences and share in mourning the loss. Noah said to me back then that he never felt so alone in his life. He was in mourning for months. The grief lasted for years. It looked like a part of him died that day. I remembered the night he tried to take his own life, wanting to be reunited with Vensa and his parents.

I never held onto someone so tightly like I did that night. I wish he could be here right now.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It felt like forever went by. My breathing calmed and I sat back up. I felt around my chest to check for the necklace again. It was still gone. Now I’m just frustrated. The place was still a bloodied mess, but at least now I'm not as shaken up. I stood and picked up the lantern on the floor next to the night table. With a turn of the lantern’s dial, to my surprise, it still had some oil in it, illuminating all of Noah's room. There was a medium-sized, rectangular black box standing vertically on the floor, against the wall next to the desk. Even with my good vision in the dark and the moonlight, I didn't see it. Walking over, I set the lantern on the desk and pulled the desk away from the wall. I picked up the box, which was light in weight, and gingerly placed it on the desk.

The box had the words "for Isaac" scratched on the top of the lid. I gave a sad smile and tried to hold back any more tears. Noah wasn't always the visually creative sort, but he tries. I slid off the top of the lid and put it aside. Inside was a letter on a piece of triple-folded parchment paper, with something stuffed between the folds. I picked up the letter and unfolded it, allowing a long stretch of folded red cloth to fall onto the desk.

The letter read:

Isaac,

If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be here right now…

I stopped and put the letter down. The lump was making its way up to my throat. With my palms on the desk, I leaned over it, trying to regain my composure. I don't want to cry again. I reminded myself that what Noah wrote is about another time. It's not about now. I already went over this. I closed my eyes and turned up at the ceiling. Deep breaths. My foot lightly tapped the floor, eager for the urge to pass. Someday I hope I'll get a better grip on this feeling. It's so overwhelming.

Okay. Back to reading.

… and I can't thank you enough. There are some days where I think about what it would be like if our parents never left for war, or if Vensa actually reciprocated your feelings. I could've been your brother-in-law, you know? Hah, that would've been different. I still feel sad about them being gone, but I am both relieved and grateful to still be here with you and everyone else. Being the last of the Hystern family means a great responsibility, and I don't intend to let them down.

I wrote this letter because I want you to know you are family to me. Even if it's not by blood. The bonds I choose from here on are precious. You've been there for me for over a decade and it has been taking just as long for me to find the right words and deeds show my thanks.

Fortunately, this is that day.

If you look inside the box there's a red scarf inside. It's for you. I didn't tell you, but I'm about a fortnight into weaver training. I'm learning from Kaleida, who lives near the forest gate of the village. I hope you like it. She says it's well done for a first try. She's the only weaver in Ulkarr, so I chose to help out by learning from her, and then I'll be teaching the village kids soon.

Can’t help but smile at this. That's Noah for you. Always finding a way to help.

Since the colder seasons are soon approaching, you're going to need it. I know how much you hate the cold. Maybe with more experience, I can weave us some cloaks before the swamp begins to freeze. Until then, I think we'll keep visiting the bonfire some more.

Thank you, Isaac, for being so good to me.

Noah Hystern

P.S. I haven't felt this close to anyone in this way before. You never seem to mind having me around almost every night at the bonfire during the winter. We spar and train together often to make sure we're top-notch to teach the young ones and protect the village. What's more is you're almost always at my doorstep waiting for me so we could get our first meal together. And I couldn't forget the night you kept me from making a choice I would regret. I want you to know I care about you too, Isaac. It's why I ask you to tell me what's on your mind so often.

There's only so much space I can put on a letter, so I'll be the first to say it.

I love you, Isaac.

Please be safe out there. Stay warm, and come home soon.

I put the letter down and looked over at the scarf. Picking it up, it was much longer than I thought it would be. It was soft. I held it against my face and closed my eyes, imaging how nice this would feel to wear when it does get colder. It does feel well-made. I wish he were here so I could thank him. I didn't think I'd lose the necklace, but at least now I have something else to remember him by until I find him.

I folded his letter and placed it in my pocket, then unfurled the scarf and wrapped it loosely around my neck. With the light from the lantern, I looked around the room again. Nothing about this disaster has changed, but there was an odd object lodged into the wall perpendicular to the staircase. I walked over to it. It was one of Noah's kukris, sunk deep through the wall. I'm sure if I went outside around the back, the rest of it would be sticking out. I grazed my fingers on the hilt, touching the soft material that seemed to have matched the scarf Noah made for me. I figured he most likely wove this from the same cloth. It looked recently wrapped.

A noise had come from the outside. Footsteps moving lazily, dragging against the rocks and dirt. For a moment, I remained frozen, trying to listen for which way the sound was moving. I tiptoed over to the desk, struggling to accept the soft creaks coming from my every step. The footsteps outside were somewhat far. I don't think my creaking can be heard. Not yet. I steadily turned the lantern off, attempting to mimic it running out of fuel, and returned with my back against the wall. Noah's room was again filled by moonlight.

Slowly, I pulled the large knife out from the wall, running my palm over the flat side of the blade. The steel was chilled from the outside air. I clutched the hilt and braced myself.

Sci Fi
2

About the Creator

DEUXQANE

93% of communication is non-verbal. Here's the other 7%.

I'm a licensed therapist. I love my kettlebell, steel mace, and rower. I've a soft spot for sci-fi, rollerblading, herbalism, poetry, drag race, EDM, and spending time in nature.

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  • Test4 months ago

    Your writing is truly commendable, my dear. It's a masterpiece!

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