"The Swallow Nest 3" by Ana Maria Salinas Norbakk

The dunes were warming up under the fiery glare of the sun. The air lost what little humidity it had kept from the cold night and soon it was as burning as if it came from the mouth of an oven. Orlenth slowly got to his feet and peered out over the sands. He is dreams had been filled with images of the carnage he had seen last night. The cold touch of Zhee’s skin against his had haunted him ever since he had picked her up and held her close in one last embrace. Slowly the man got to his feet and stumbled over to the place where the funerary pyre had been, a large area of sot blackening the otherwise ivory surface of the sand. He searched for the bones that had survived the flames and gathered them up, placing them carefully, almost lovingly into a simple woven bag. Tears had started streaming down his cheeks once more as he touched the blackened bones, feeling their hard touch against his fingers, cringing at the smell they gave off. But he knew this had to be done; the bones couldn’t be left in the sand for the scavengers to find.

The sun was approaching its zenith when Orlenth had picked up even the smallest of bones from the sand and placed it in the bag. Slowly he rose to his feet, lifting the bag and gently tossing it over his shoulder. The bones making a slight rattling sound inside the fabric, as if reminding him they were there.

Moving slowly, as if trapped in a nightmare, Orlenth started walking towards the south, towards the Yefera oasis, the closest sanctuary he knew of. His steps were slow and he moved in silence, never diminishing his pace despite the burning sun. His eyes were half closed to protect them from the burning sun. Breaking all traditions Orlenth walked during the day, not caring for the sun that was starting to burn and blister his exposed skin. His white tunic provided little protection from the rays that baked the ground, making the sand under his feet as warm as cinders. All day he walked, and when night started falling he reached Yefera.

The oasis was little more than a small spring surrounded by a few boulders. Small patches of green grew around the source of water, spiny bushes and cacti mostly. Yet there were also some sand calabashes, thriving on what little humidity they found in the otherwise burning sand.

Exhausted by his walk Orlenth fell on his knees by the spring. Bowing himself forward he drank from the cool water like an animal, slurping the water to quench his thirst. And when his parched throat no longer tormented him he ducked his head under the surface of the water. The freshness washed away his sweat and brought relief to the blistered and burned skin on his face. He stayed submerged until his lungs screamed for air, until his head felt heavy. Only then he rose to his knees once more and released the woven bag from his back. very careful to not let it fall into the water. He was feeling slightly better now that his thirst was gone, but hunger was gnawing relentlessly at his stomach, making him look around for something to eat. Fortunately for him the calabashes were almost ripe and ready to be picked. Orlenth recollected a few of the tempting looking fruits and took a seat in the shadow provided by a large boulder. He made a cut in the thick husk with his small knife and drank the juice that started flowing out of it, the sweet drink tasting like ambrosia in his hungry mouth. Eager to taste the succulent pulp he pried open the calabash and dug his teeth into the slightly purple fruit-meat. One after one he finished off the calabashes, drinking their juice and eating their pulp. He only kept one of them for later, placing it by the woven bag. He had chosen that particular calabash for its shape, that of a teardrop, and the pattern of green and yellow spots on the perfect husk.

He fell asleep lulled by the slight murmur of the water of the spring and the wind blowing over the dunes.

Amidst his dreams he could hear the howling of the wild dogs over the desert, a sound that would follow him all night, creating terrible ghosts in his dreams, transforming them into nightmares that beset him during his few hours of rest. The only witnesses to the low moans and the shaking of his sleeping limbs being the four pallid moons that rode the heavens above him, turning the rust red dunes into pure silver.

The sun rose shrouded in a light mist that soon disappeared, as the rays became warmer and more intense as it rose on the blue heaven. Orlenth awoke, tired and exhausted from the night filled with terrible dreams. He slowly got to his knees and produced his knife once more. With extreme care he carved a hole in the husk of the calabash, and with equal care he used the knife to hollow out the fruit, scooping the pulp into his mouth, as he needed to empty the husk completely. As the calabash was empty he washed it in the spring before choosing a rock placed directly in the flowing sunlight. There he left the husk to dry under the unmerciful rays of the glowing sun. His next task would require a great amount of time and was also one of the most heartbreaking to do. He wandered around the oasis until he found a large and flat rock and a smaller round one. Sitting down in the sand he placed the woven bag by his side and slowly, reverently, he pulled a bone out of the pack and placed it on the flat rock. With tears in his eyes he lifted the round rock and smashed it down on the bone, breaking it in several smaller splinters. Moving with a lethargic slowness he started grinding the bone into a fine powder, reducing it to a slightly greyish dust. He repeated this with each and every bone in the sack, until there was only the skull left. He lifted it lovingly from its temporary resting-place in the bag and rose it to his lips. His tears stained the bone as he placed a kiss on the front of the skull, as if he was kissing Zhee’s forehead for the last time.

A loud sob escaped his lips as he placed the skull on the flat rock, lifting the stone and letting it smash into the fragile bone, shattering it into small pieces that he soon ground into dust. Tears streaming down his cheeks as his hands rolled the stone once and once more over the small pieces of bone reducing them to powder. His lips formed her name several times as he worked, his voice whispering to her spirit, begging for forgiveness for what he was doing, begging for her to understand that he had to do this.

After what seemed like eternity all the bones had been reduced to dust and collected in the centre of the flat stone. The day had almost ended and the first of the four moons was already rising over the dunes. Orlenth slowly got to his feet and covered the powder with his bag before going to get the calabash he had hollowed out earlier. The sun had dried the husk during the day, seeping out even the smallest remain of moisture, making the fruit shell as hard as wood.

Orlenth moved back to the flat rock and once more sat down beside it. Scooping the bone powder gently up in his hand he whispered yet an apology before he let it fall into the dry husk, the dust falling like the sand of a hourglass into its container. A piece of dried wood was used to seal the opening along with a piece of his bag.

Orlenth knew that he was now breaking a taboo of his people. The ashes of the dead were to be sprinkled to the wind, allowing the dust to fly over the Arkethame desert, being one with the sands and dunes. Instead of that Orlenth was taking the ashes of his beloved and keeping them imprisoned by his side inside the hardened container. If any of the elders had known what he was doing he would definitely have been exiled from his people. But there was no one there to witness what Orlenth was doing, and he was not planning to return to his people anymore. He had exiled himself voluntarily, severing his bindings with the Arkh’Esashu with almost as much violence as Zhee had been stolen from him.

He cut a piece of his own tunic and braided it into a rope with which he tied the calabash to his waist, hiding it under his clothes, letting the dry husk rest against his skin, his hands caressing over it before he covered it with his tunic.

The remaining three moons had rose on the sky as he drank deeply from the spring and recollected some more calabashes that he placed in his bag, tying it securely to his back.

The closes Arhk’Tessera city was two full nights away from where he now was, and he was determined to reach it in that time. He knew there would be no more oases after this one, but the juice of the calabashes would keep his thirst from becoming too terrible, keeping him both with moisture and food the time his walk would last.

With a last look at the constelation of Adanu Orlenth started walking over the dunes towards the south, his tracks in the sand soon being filled up with the flying sand that was lifted by the night breeze.

Soon the oasis was once more silent and empty, almost as if he had never been there, as if he had never even existed.