There are no words for the dead and dying. They do not exist in the eyes of the living. Only the desert can take what she demands.
— Erochitsu Mikōgyo
Desòchu woke up to a scream that wouldn't stop. The shrill sound beat against the walls of the cave, echoing inside his head and chest as much as it beat against his ears. He couldn't tell if it was a nightmare intruding into his reality or his brother crying.
Dazed, he fumbled for the side table. Everyone kept a couple glow lamps in easy reach otherwise it was too hard to get any light into the back chambers of the cave. His fingertips knocked one off the table before he caught a second.
The scream started to fade when he sat back and twisted the light to turn it on.
A second scream rose up, overlapping the first. It was loud and shrill, far more than any babe could produce. It reminded him of the sound his grandmother made when his mother was bleeding.
Desòchu's muscles tightened painfully at his thoughts. He twisted the light harder until the room filled with a faint blue glow. His eyes automatically turned toward his brother's bassinet.
Rutejìmo pawed the air as he screamed but no sound seemed to escape his open mouth. The sound that filled the cave drowned out any sounds his brother could make.
The screams started to fade but then there were more. They rose up in a cacophony of bird-like screeches that came from everywhere at once.
The air shuddered as someone ran past the front of the cave. The air beat against his chest as he felt others racing in front of his home.
In his cradle, Rutejìmo's finally rose up over the fading scream. His high pitched wails beat against the stone walls of the inner chamber, magnifying with every echo.
Desòchu managed to get his legs clear of the blankets. “Quiet,” he snapped as he got to his feet.
The baby continued to cry.
The fourteen-year-old boy stood there, peering into the dark as he struggled with a decision to remain with his brother or find out what the commotion was about.
The air thudded around him as another person blew past the front of the cave. The passing wind was fast enough it caused the entrance blanket to pull away and the air to be sucked out before it came rushing back. The breeze wafted past his face.
Curiosity won. “J-Just stay here,” he said to the newborn before he hurried out of the room. His hand ran along the stone wall with practiced habit until he got into the more lit areas. Then he was able to run outside just as more people zipped past faster than most humans could ever run. A flash of heat beat against his face right before wind tugged at his clothes and nearly ripped the entrance blanket free.
He turned his back to the wind and he traced the paths of the running elders. Their trails were marked with eddies of dust and sand. All of them were heading out the main entrance of the valley.
Ignoring his brother's cries, Desòchu ran after them. He felt slow and weak compared to the adults who raced past him in a blur but he couldn't wait until they came back to explain what had happened.
By the time he got to the valley entrance, there were no more elders racing past him. However, he could see where they had gone from the paths their high-speed passage had left behind. To his surprise, the swirling dust and exposed rock didn't go further into the desert but instead turned to the side and followed the outer cliff that marked the valley's boundaries.
He jogged after the others.
The sheer wall was easily a hundred feet tall and smooth as glass. During a prosperous year, the clan had the cliffs carved out of the mountains to prevent raiders. It worked, no one dared to break into the valley but it also meant there was only one exit for the mile-long valley.
It didn't take long until he spotted a large knot of adults clumped together next to the cliff. Seeing them, he ran faster to find out what had woken him.
Two people stepped away from the crowd, turned on their heels, and sprinted away. Before they went ten feet, their bodies igniting into flames as they accelerated into a blur, leaving a plume of dust and sand behind them.
A large, translucent bird—a shimusogo dépa—appeared over both of their bodies. The burning, ethereal creature shrank down until it was the same size as a human. With a crack of air, both of them shot out of sight as a massive burst of wind ripped the desert apart along their path.
He looked back to see Kiríshi running away from the others and toward him. Her long, curly hair fluttered behind her. She normally kept it bound into a braid which meant she had just woken up herself.
Concerned and worried, he pushed himself to his limits to race toward her. Like countless times before, he wished he could have the speed of the elders to bridge the distance in a matter of seconds. Without magic, he had to pump his arms and legs, straining his muscles to their limits.
Every second passed added more questions. What was going on? Why were they gathered together? Why did the two warriors race off? Sweat prickled along his brow as he glanced where the other two had run off but the wind had already erased their passing.
Finally, they came to a stumbling halt in front of each other. Kiríshi gasped for breath twice before she held up her palm to stop him.
Desòchu struggled himself: the heat of the midday sun beat down on his shoulders and head, his legs burned from the effort, and his lungs ached from sprinting. He nodded and bent over to take deep gulps of air. The long moments it took for his ears to stop ringing where agony, he desperately wanted Kiríshi recover faster.
He took a deep gulp and straightened. “What… what is going on? Why are they running?”
“Hold… on… Sòchu.”
“Kiríshi, please? What? What?” He stepped forward and grabbed her sweat-soaked shirt.
“We… we…” She batted his hand away. “She was just walking along the upper trail. I swear. She just….”
Desòchu's heart almost skipped a beat. Every muscle in his chest and neck tightened. “Mama?”
“Fell. I'm so sorry—”
He looked over her shoulder. The gathered people were standing over something. Fear surged through his veins. With a gasp, he grabbed her shoulder and shoved her to the side.
Kiríshi stepped to block him. She grabbed his shoulder. “Don't.”
“That's my mama!” He flailed at her, but couldn't connect.
She yanked him around to face her. Her unbound hair clung to her nose and obscured one of her eyes. “Please, don't look. Don't go.”
He tried to pull away but she tightened her grip.
“Sòchu, you need—”
Desòchu looked at her hand. Without thinking, he brought his arm up to break her grip. As soon as he felt her fingers slip away, he stepped back.
Kiríshi grabbed his other shoulder. “No, you—”
He punched her in the stomach.
The instant look of hurt betrayal stopped him for only a moment. She bent over and vomited onto the sand.
Desòchu turned on his heels and sprinted toward the others. He had to get to his mother. He pushed himself again, straining his physical limits to cross the distance. When his body wouldn't move faster, he tried to will himself to accelerate.
His vision blurred for a moment and the sands distorted around him.
A flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye.
He stumbled and lost his balance. He slammed against the glassy-smooth cliff and then dropped to his knees.
His vision sharpened.
Shaking his head, he scrambled back to his feet. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Kiríshi racing after him. “Go shit yourself,” he muttered under his breath and turned back to the gathered people. They were only a few chains away. He bore down and raced toward them.
When he approached, some of the adults turned to face him. The nearest reached out. “No, you don't need to see this.”
Desòchu shoved his way past.
More tried to stop him but their attempts were weak and distracted as they kept looking toward the center of the gathering. He easily dodged and shoved his way past, working his way past the clan members until he reached the center. Bursting out of the wall of bodies, he found himself in a clear space.
He saw his grandmother and father first. They were kneeling in front of his mother's body. When he saw the twisted, blood-soaked body, something snapped. With a cry, he threw himself forward and dropped to the ground. “No!”
Tejíko turned and pulled him to her. Her entire body shook with her sobs.
He punched her, his fist catching her shoulder. His knuckles thudded against bone before sliding off.
She gripped tighter and wrapped her arms around him. “No, no,” she whispered in a choked voice. “Don't look, please don't look.”
A blast of air indicated another clan member arriving. Desòchu reflexively turned away until the the wind settled and then looked back to see Yutsupazéso stumble forward. She looked around only a second before she spoke. “Everyone back to the valley. Kòru, take your son. Tejíko, stay here.”
“Rot in hell, old lady,” snapped Desòchu's father. “I won't leave her.”
Desòchu's eyes burned with tears and he looked away. He couldn't leave, not now. He turned to peer at his mother's body. The bones of her arms had snapped, the sharp edges ripped out of her skin in many places. More bones stuck out of her chest and hips. One leg had been bent back until her foot had been twisted behind her neck; the joint had torn apart like a roasted bird's.
He sobbed but he couldn't look away. The smell flooded over him, the metallic scent of blood. It came from the blood-soaked sands that surrounded them, the impact of her fall marked by a splatter that radiated from her both. More of it bubbled from her broken limbs and crushed face.
Desòchu started to look away but then noticed a larger puddle had formed between her legs where it soaked the outfit she had been wearing right before her walk.
Tejíko dug her chin to the top of his head. He could feel her straining to turn him away. “Don't look, Boy.”
He wanted to tell her it was too late but the effort to speak surprised him. He relented and let her turn his gaze away. He blinked at the tears and looked around.
To his surprise, no one remained near them. They were all walking away toward the valley entrance.
He gasped. “W-Wait! Why are they going?”
Tejíko pulled him to his feet. “Come on, Sòchu. We need to get you home.”
“No, I can't leave her! I can't. That's my mother!”
With tears in her eyes, she nodded. “I know. Please, I'll explain later. Right now, I need you to just walk away.”
“I can't. I—”
Her face twisted into a tear-filled scowl. “Now.”
Desòchu glanced at his father who remained kneeling next to his mother's corpse.
“Hikòru,” started Tejíko.
“I won't leave her,” came the tense reply.
Tejíko looked at Yutsupazéso who gestured for her to leave. Then she turned to Desòchu. “Come on, where is your brother?”
“I… I need to stay.”
“You need to take care of your brother. Where is he?”
“I won't leave my mama!”
Tejíko's slap caught him across the face. She grabbed his face with both hands and forced her to look at him. “I will explain but right now, you need to just listen. You cannot help—”
He shook his head and shoved at her. “No, I can. I—!”
“Walk. Away.” Tejíko grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the horrific scene.
He resisted, twisting his arm to break her grip. “No!”
“Leave!” bellowed Tejíko. She slapped him again.
He slapped her back, throwing all his weight into the blow. “Rot in sands!”
His grandmother staggered to the side. When she looked up, her face was a mask of fury and anger.
“Stop!” snapped Yutsupazéso.
Desòchu stopped out of respect and fear. Yutsupazéso was the clan leader and her command could inflict a month of garbage duty with no change of respite. Like his grandmother, she had a reputation of being curt and brutal.
“I only have time for one child,” said Yutsupazéso. “So, Boy, if you don't walk away this moment, I will make your life a living hell.”
He ground his teeth together. “Yes, Great Shimusogo Yutsupazéso.”
Desòchu looked toward his father. Hikòru hadn't moved from his spot next to the corpse.
“Hikòru,” said Yutsupazéso.
“Take a dump, old goat.”
“You know why you need to walk away.”
Hikòru turned his head to glare at her. “Shut up, you festering pile of feces. I'm not afraid of garbage duty or cleaning. So take your wrinkled tits and walk away yourself.”
“Boy!” snapped both Tejíko and Yutsupazéso.
Yutsupazéso gestreud angrily toward Tejíko and Desòchu.
Tejíko grunted with annoyance and then tugged at Desòchu. “Come, we can't stay here.”
He resisted. “But mama—”
“—doesn't need you right now. I do. I need you to be home and away from this place. Do you remember last night with your mama? I'll explain later, I promise.”
Desòchu shook his head. He couldn't leave her, not like this. He sobbed and turned toward his mother but then stopped when Yutsupazéso stepped toward him. He lifted his gaze toward her and saw nothing but hard determination.
Tejíko pushed him away.
He relented for a moment, his mind furiously spinning. He didn't want to go back to the cave, or to have his grandmother lecturing him. He stepped away and shook his head. “I-I can't.”
His grandmother looked at him. He could see her fighting for words. Then her shoulders slumped. “Anywhere but here. For me?”
Desòchu stepped back. Even though he desperately wanted to be kneeling in the blood next to his father, he knew the repercussions would be severe. He wiped the tears from his face.
“I promise,” said Tejíko. “Tonight.”
With a sob, he turned on his heels and raced away.