The white dust floats through the air, and I run through it, my face awash with tears and small specks of blood and the white dust of my people, gasping and wanting for nothing more than to find my father’s dead body and stop it from turning to ash. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust... The words run through my head, words that should not ring so true with me.
“Shut up, Fida.” I say to myself. I only want to use my last charge of power to bring my father back, use the last bit of magic potion to bring his life back. But I know I can’t. My silver hair get’s blown forward into my face and IK push it back hastily, continuing to run, even though the pain from running is intensifying, and I know I cut myself in the calf with a rock, but I need to keep moving, I need to find him. I need to find Iztal. The only man I know will be alive, because he is like me. He is a Sivitane. A Sivitane is a special kind of person from our village. We’re born with either white or black hair, and if we survive the cutting, a ceremony where runes are cut into our skin, then we are set apart, given all we need. Taught in the best way, and the runes? They protect is. From the deadly plague that passes through our town every 7 years. And today? It’s been another 7 years, and Iztal and I are the only Sivitane alive. We need to go run, to continue the legacy of our village and come back when it’s safe. I don’t have any time to think about whether not I want to. I don’t have a choice. I need to, because I am a Sivitane. It wasn’t until now that I thought about what meant for me. Now I have no choice but to run, to marry Iztal, to go, to run, to live because no one else can.
“He-help.”I hear, and I rush. Right on, trying not to think of the feeble young child's voice and run on. I have to be gone for two years, and I need to leave now. I get to a hut, the one that belongs to Iztal. I knock on the door. I don’t mind marrying him. I love him, and it would’ve happened whether or not the plague had come. The door opens and he’s standing there, black hair blue eyes, a beautiful face I never was. Before we say anything, and even know there is no time, He folds me into a hug and I choke out a sob.
“I love you, Fida.” He says, and I say it right back to him, my voice confident and unwavering.
“I love you.” I reach of and touch him on the cheek gently. He smiles and takes my hand, and I take the potion out of my satchel. I take a small sip, just in care the runes don’t work, and pass it to Iztal. He sips down the rest, and we run off. I feel tears going down my face, and I feel the cut in my leg start to close up. I manage to keep moving, and we run out of a the village, trying not to think about the fact that we’re breathing in the death of the ones we love.
“I know you can’t hear, you can’t know.” I say, taking a clump of the dust in my hand and stopping for a moment. “But you helped us live. You did this, and we’ll be completely grateful.” I choke and blow it into the wind. “Forever.” I say.
“Forever.” Iztal repeats, taking my hand again. And we run off, ready to live. And we’ll be back in a few years. And then we’ll leave again.
No comments:
Post a Comment