In Europa, the soldiers say that when a person dies, they are given one of the caves carved into the faces of mountains as their burial. They say that the spirits of the cave will snatch the fading flame of the soul and weave it into the sky as a gleaming star. They say the spirits do it for gratitude. They tell me it is an honor to fight on the eroding cliffs jutting into the monstrous waves. It is good to fight over the scraggly mile of mangled grass and dirt because we are protecting the land from our myths. 

     The hope on their faces flickers across my mind as I watch their bullet ridden bodies burn to ash every morning. 

     In Europa, there is a smell of death. It stinks, a noxious odor that winds through my nose through the bouts of rain. I taste ash in my mouth as we battle our way up the slippery slope. The plastic helmet is hanging by a fraying, thin strap. My eyes sting from the rain. 

     I can barely catch a breath without some man trying to shoot me. I dodge a swipe and gut the boy in front of me. I leave before his green eyes close. Maybe they stayed open. Does it matter?

     My only hope is the sun. When the sun sets, the other soldiers scuttle into their caves deep within the entrenched lines of armored nobles playing samurai. We do the same, dragging the bodies of our friends and enemies into piles. We strip the helmet first. Then we take the weapons and whatever valuables they held.

     I used to wonder why we stop. A bearded soldier said it because this was a game. This was an amusing game for the powerful, who saw it as a way to prove their ancestors’ prowess in war. I dragged his body to the medics a day later. 

     At dusk, the priestess walks from her tent, her veil fluttering around her as she leads the song of burial. She pours the oil over the piles, the frayed hem of her dress dragging through the mud. When the sky lightens to a dark purple, the rumble of drums start. It continues through the night, a constant reminder of what’s to come. 

     I can see the orange and gold streaks in the sky. The sun is lowering. Some of the soldiers sink to the floor. Others turn and run. The girl about to stab me turns and runs, her footfalls joining the small horde slinking away in a rush of clicking guns and knives. I lift my eyes to the sun as the soldiers I lead collapse around me and medics begin to swarm the bodies. 

     For a moment, I can hear the faint ringing of bells.

​

*****

​

     “What are you doing?” 

     A sharp pain flares on my arm and I flinch. I glance at Maya. Her skinny arms are crossed and she blows out a strand of fiery red hair. She looks at me. 

     “Did you just pinch me?” I ask incredulously. 

     “Oh no, it was the spirits of the vegetables,” she replies with a roll of her eyes. 

     “I thought you were going with the raiders.”

     “I thought so too,” she replies, swiping a stray strand of hair from her face. Her grey eyes cut to me. “But I heard that you petitioned Osamu and argued to keep me cooped up like a coddled baby duck.” I shift. 

     “I didn’t realise you were capable of similes.” 

     A low laugh. “I didn’t realise you were so ace at arguing.” 

     “I didn’t think so too.” My eyes drift up, to the faint twinkling stars in the dusky sky. I can hear her shift beside me, jade bangles clinking hollowly with the ringing brass bells around her left ankle. 

     “I heard there’s a war,” she says, voice shaking. She turns to me. “Are we going to fight?”

     “I hope to the gods that we won’t,” I reply. 

     Maya gulps. 

     “I mean, what could they want with this place? We’re a failed colony turned nomads. We don’t have anything.” 

     I don’t think they see it that way. 

     “That is true,” I say anyways.  

     Maya braces her wrists as she gets up from the grass. She turns away. “My mother said to get you. They want you present at the bridal dances.” 

     “I’m not of age,” I say. 

     Maya won’t look at me. “Mother said you’re an exception.” 

     “It’s not physiologically healthy to-” 

     “Mother said there’s a war. And the elders are scared.” 

     One of her hands is clasping her arm.

      I meet her eyes. 

     “Believe me when I say we will not have a war,” I say. 

     “I don’t think you know any more than I do,” she says. 

     I get up and walk to her side. 

     “If there is a war, then we can only pray,” I reply.

     Maya narrows her eyes. 

     “I’m joining the next raiding party. I don’t care if you petition again or use your connections.” I flinch. “I’m going to do what I was born to do.” 

     “Maya, just because your parents did it-” 

     She breaks into a run. 

     I sigh and rub my head. Maybe I should let her go. A child will never grow unless exposed to hardship. I turn to the fires burning amongst the colorful yurts a mile away. My ancestors came here as pioneers. Domes were constructed and they set to coax the thawing soil to yield life. Soon, though, they rebelled against the rulers. They have never received punishment. 

     I trudge through the frost dusted earth, my rubber boots sinking into the mud. A faint wind stirs my head. I have never left this planet. I have never even gone beyond the dome system.

     I am as much of a child as Maya. 

     I glance to the west, at the sliver of gray miles away. Past the domes, Neptune’s snow pounds against the gray mountains. Only the elders and businessmen leave the dome. Well, that and criminals. Only, they have no suit, no technology that can save them from the screaming winds and freezing cold. Within seconds, they would stumble, fall. It’s a question of how many steps. Two? Eight? The longest I’ve seen is ten. 

     I stop at the edge of the tents. Children run to the flickering bonfires in the center of the village, girls trailing behind. The boys are already there. I can hear a hawk caw above me. I look up. Katara skims the clouds above then swoops down, landing onto a leather glove. I follow the arm, up to a grim, scarred face. 

     “Why aren’t you at the bonfires?” Riku asks dully. 

     “I was waiting for someone.” 

     “Maya is in her room. I suggest you find a wife before she comes of age.” 

     “You’re going to marry her off then.” 

     "That is what I must do.” His eyebrows come together. “Just as you must follow your family’s orders.” 

     “Are you going to let her go on the raids?”

     “She’ll do it with or without my permission.” He turns his grey eyes to the stars above us. “She’ll be leaving tonight, most likely.” His eyes slide to me. “You best run along now. I’m sure the elders will be missing you.” 

     I clench my jaw. 

     He waits.

     I bow. 

     He brushes past me, the smell of alcohol clinging to him like the oils some of the women rubbed on their skin. I straighten. I lean against the slender supports of the yurt behind me. I take a deep breath. 

     “If you don’t come out of the shadows, I will whip your hide,” a voice says. I stiffen, my hand resting on the braided pummel of my dagger. I can hear a small whimper sound a few feet away from me. 

     “Wh-who are you?” 

     I stiffen. That’s...Riku. 

     There’s a slow crunch of snow and a whimper. 

     “Where is your charge?” the voice growls. I hear a snap and a thud. “Where is she?”

     “I don’t know! She ran off!” A pause and then another snap. Riku cries out. 

     “Will she return?”

     “I-I don’t know.”

     I twist to the direction of the voice. I can hear the faint melody of flutes in the distance. My kidskin boots sink seamlessly into the frost. I gulp. I tense and run to the edge. Once I see the black figure, I angle my knife at her neck. My heart pounds in my ears like a drum. I exhale a puff of pale breath. 

     She stiffens suddenly. Riku is on the ground, dirt smearing his face, a leaf hanging in his beard. She turns, grey eyes wide. The knife shoots out of my hand as I stare. 

     She looks just like Maya. 

     She takes a step forward. Riku starts screaming. Her breaths are louder, heaving gulps that fill the space between us. The knife is lodged below her collarbone. She takes another step. I can’t move. Then her eyes roll to the back of her head and she collapses.

     She looks like Maya. 

     I’m suddenly staring at the night sky. There are hands around my shoulders. Dark faces, pale faces. I see a glimpse of cherry red lip, probably one of the brides.

   The music has stopped, and all I can hear are Riku’s screams. 

​

*****

​

     I blink groggily up, at the weak light trickling through the ceiling hole. I see clouds, and a gray sky. Around the hole are painted pictures. Men and women riding on horses as they fire bows at a herd of deer. I’m in a yurt. 

     “Nice to know you’re awake,” a sulky voice calls out. I can hear bells ringing as Maya walks to the bed. I twist my head and meet Maya’s glower. She crosses her arms. She stares and finally blows out a sigh. “That was an android.”

     “Do you know why it looks like you?” I ask. Her eyes move up to the ceiling. 

     “No.”

     “You’re lying.” 

     “I am not!” She sits on a wicker chair beside the bed. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure the Kurusa royals have declared war on us.”

     “How is that supposed to help?”

     “I don’t know.” 

     I sit up and lean my head against a wooden support beam. “Did they declare war on us?”

     “Pretty much. Live broadcasts, first signal we’ve had in years.” She blows out a strand of hair. “Most of the elders have left. Cowards.”

     “What about the people?” I ask. 

     “I’m not sure if the raiders are coming back. But I know they’re scared spineless.” She turns to me. “I’m leaving tonight.”

     “Are you happy?”

     “No. Not without you.” I flinch. She abruptly turns. “But at least Ryota came back.” 

     Her voice is loud. Too loud. “He said he wanted to see you.” 

     I cringe. 

      “Why is he back?”

    “Apparently he was run out of town.”

   My eyebrows furrow. “How did that happen?” I ask. 

       Maya shrugs and picks an embroidered coat off the floor. She puts it on, buttoning the blue and red coat up to her chin then pulling the hood forward in seconds. I feel a ball of regret settle in my stomach. I clench my jaw. Am I really going to let her leave?

     I stand up as she sticks her pale hands into the fur lined pockets, taking out a pair of animal skin gloves. “Maya.” She won’t look at me. My tan hands fasten around her’s. They still. “Look at me.” 

     “I don’t want to.” 

     "Maya, please.” Her eyes are wet and she bites her lip as they overflow. 

     “I don’t want it to end like this. I’m scared I’ll never see you again and—”

     The door squeals. I hear a sharp intake of breath. Then the creak of the floorboard. 

     “Huh. I never thought Kazuke would be so bold as to stare into my little niece’s eyes,” Ryota drawls. We turn.  Ryota closes the door behind him, unpleasant words slipping out between his unwinding scarf. He yanks off his hood and surveys the room with a mocking smile. His eyes sharpen on me. 

     “I heard you fainted after seeing the android.” 

     “How’s Yuuta?” I reply, drawing Maya to me. She yanks out of my hands and stalks up to him. 

     “What are you doing here?” She demands. He casually sidesteps her and prowls closer, hands in pockets. His tan, chiselled face is unreadable. 

     “He’s alive. How’s your sister?” 

     I incline my head. “I wouldn’t know.” 

     “Ryota, stop.” 

     “Maya I think it’s best you don’t miss your raider friends about to leave.” Maya freezes, eyes going to me. 

     “Maya, go.” She gulps and turns for the door. She looks back one last time, then runs out, the door slamming against the wooden frame. My eyes turn back to Ryota. 

     “That was quite a lie,” I say. 

     “It’ll take her a few minutes before she realizes they haven’t even saddled their camels.” His eyes take me in. I tense. “Are you planning to lead your family?”

     “That honor is solely meant for my sister.” 

     "She certainly fits the look. You’re the spitting image of your father.” I narrow my eyes. 

     “Last I heard, you were serving in Kurusa’s militia.”

     “You look as foreign here as I did in Kurusa.” 

     “Maya looks the same. Why are you back?”

     “I was run out of town,” he replies, the lie slipping off his tongue like silk. 

     “You always lie to Maya. Why are you really here?”

     He tosses an object. I catch it. I unfold my fist. 

     A jade seal of a phoenix gleams up at me. I stare at the frayed, braided cord, eyes tracing the chipped edge of the left wing. No. No,  Aisleen is not-

     “Your sister told me to give this to you.”

     “You let her die.”

     “I loved her,” he says. 

     “You let her die,” I repeated, my hand tightening around the seal. 

     He shakes his head. “She was born for a greater purpose than living as the head of a family of two.” 

     “You killed her.” 

     His eyes cut to me. 

     Yes, I did.”

     I lob the seal at his head. He lets it hit him. I can see the angry red mark on his tan forehead. He raises an eyebrow, as though he’s challenging me. Is that all you can do? Is that all you really are? I haven’t heard of anything but the fainting boy and his weakling tendencies. He can’t even tame a hawk or stand on a horse. 

     “Ryota!” Maya’s nose is scrunched, her freckles bunched together as she storms up to him. Rikku enters the yurt, and he quietly closes the door. His eyes dart to me, then to his brother. He looks Ryota up and down and his lips pull back. 

     “You look as handsome as ever. Where’s Yuuta?” He asks. 

     Ryota smirks. “Drunk to the seventh ring of Heaven,” he retorts. Maya bends down onto the wooden floor. Her tan hands scoop up the seal. She turns wide eyes to me. 

     “Is she…”

     “He knows better than me,” I say, eyes on Ryota. 

     “Ryota?” Riku’s voice sounds almost fragile in the silence. Ryota’s blows out a sigh and runs a scarred hand through his brown hair. A gold band gleams on one of his fingers. I stare. 

     “You married her, didn’t you.”

     He raises his head, hand falling to his side. His mouth is twisted in a mocking smirk. 

     “We didn’t have enough time to do that,” he says. My hands ball into fists. Not enough time. How dare he say he didn’t have enough time. He let her die. He let her go. He has no right—

     Rikku walks up to me, his left leg dragging behind. His eyes are unreadable when he takes my hand and sinks to the ground. Maya draws in a breath and Ryota gives a low chuckle. I study Rikku’s face. His eyes are a slate gray, face pallid from surgery and whatever illness is eating away at him. 

     “Lead us to prosperity, Gadja.” I flinch. His eyes hold mine as he draws my hand to his forehead. My hand rests against the rough wrinkles of his forehead. His hand drops. “Lead us to safety and tranquility, so that I may see the golden fields of the Valley Past.” His eyes fill with tears. “Let me see the blue sky of my ancestors and taste the bounty of your raids. If you will, pledge me to your clan and let me ride beneath your banners.”

     “How poetic,” Ryota says, silky voice floating in the silence, “I’m surprised you learned the pledge when you wouldn’t swear to Kazuke’s mother.”

     “I am Gadja,” I say. Foreigner. The word is as bled into my memory as my other titles. Leader. Failure. Brother. 

     I drop my hand. His eyes are wide. I shake my head. 

     "I don’t belong in this position anymore than you.” I get off the bed and kneel beside him. He scoots to me. I can hear Maya’s anklet jingling as she walks over and sinks besides us. I hold out my hand and she drops the seal in. I lay it on the floor between us. “If I am to lead, if you trust me enough, then let me lead you to our homeland.” 

     His eyes are solemn as he takes my hands. 

     “Bring us home.” 

​

*****

​

     There are times when I wish I could remember my father’s face. HIs eyes were said to be the cerulean blue of the Western Dome lakes and his hair was as black as the mountains beyond the domes. Aisleen used to tell me his hair was the dark brown of our soil and his voice was made to tell stories. 

     I wish I could have spoken to him. 

     “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you.” Ryota’s eyes gleam in the dark. The wagon we’re in bumps and shivers, bells jangling merrily in the night. Ryota folds his heavily embroidered sleeves in a kingly fashion. He fits my forefathers look more than I ever will. 

     “You still haven’t told me where is Yuuta,” I reply. He pulls back his teeth. 

     “Dead for all I care.” 

     “I’m surprised you can tolerate sitting in the same wagon as me.” 

     “It seemed kind of sad that you didn’t ask for anyone but me.” His eyes narrow. “Why?”

     I lean forward. There is a chipped hole on the side of the wagon. Though it, the full moon’s light shines.  I watch him smirk as the rays mark my dark blue eyes. “You look like a god reincarnate.” 

     “I want you to lead Maya out.” 

     His smile fades. 

     “What about the rest of the villagers?” My eyes stray to the hole, below the moon, to the stark, white lines of the Kurusa Royals’ ships. They came weeks ago, days after I had rounded the pledge of the villagers. I turn back to his still figure. He has a leg up, a hand casually dangling on the knee. 

     “You know as well as I that we are chattel.”

     His lips draw back and an understanding. It makes me feel oily, wrong. There is a dim thought in the back of my mind. The quiet realization that he has never smiled. Perhaps he had reserved such emotion for my sister. Perhaps he will never find that smile again.

“I wondered what you would do when I gave you that seal.”

     “Lead her out,” is all I say. He leans back with a cold smirk. The bells jingle hollowly outside. After some time, the wagon stops, and the doors are pulled out by smiling mothers. They stand back as Ryota steps out, their gray eyes riveted on his tall figure. Likely imagining the children their daughters would have with him. He turns and holds out a hand. His mouth quirks up. 

     “I forgot to say congratulations.”

     I take his hand as I step out. He falls behind me, the mothers trailing behind in a quiet flurry of embroidered robes.

     The walk is short. The dirt path is lit by torches, their flickering lights reflected by the still lake beneath us. Soon, I can see the backs of my people. They look at me with hope, faith that I will save them. It feels cruel to know our fates. The technology difference is too great. Hope cannot win against guns. I pass them, mounting stone stairs to the mouth of a well lit cave. 

     When I reach the top, I pause. Maya turns, veil swishing as she eyes me. I study her delicate, slightly tan face. I haven’t seen her since the day Rikku pledged his service. I wasn’t allowed to see her when the raiders returned, the rulers of the other tribes behind them. I stride forward, my footsteps quick thuds that echo. 

     I stand across from her and it’s hard not to hold her. My 17th birthday passed yesterday. I feel so young and untried. Rikku loudly clears his throat. 

     Maya smiles at me and takes my hands. I can feel new callouses from her hands. It makes me wonder if she will never go on another raid, if I will ever feel these callouses again. Her eyes desperately roam over my face and her grip tightens. Rikku wraps the white silk cord around us. I can smell the faint odor of alcohol on him. 

     The ceremony is silent, no words spoken. It is only with our eyes, our actions that we speak. Rikku ties a lopsided bow and not so gently pushes us to the entrance, where Ryota’s waiting. Maya smiles and I feel heat suffuse my cheeks. Ryota gives a low chuckle and she laughs. We stop at the entrance. The villagers below cheer as we raise our bound hands. I smile at Maya as the sounds of flutes and drums start. 

     My smile is firmly placed on my lips as my eyes drift beyond the people, our village, to the ships beyond. They are silent, but they wait like a fat spider looking at it’s dinner. The full moon will only last for one more night. Then the season of prosperity will end in my culture. It would be too kind of them to miss the chance to sow agony in a time of joy.

​

*****

​

     The morning came with the rattle of the dome. I watch as wave after wave of ship slam into the dome. They implode on impact. I wonder if there were any humans in there. 

     “You’re awful quiet this morning.” Ryota sips a cup of tea, eyes on the ships. “The villagers from the outskirts have evacuated to the center.” 

     “Thank you.” 

     “How is she?” he asks. 

     “She was sleeping when I left.” 

     “At least you did one thing right.” 

     “I think she wants to talk to you.” He stills.

     “We’ll have plenty of time for that,” he says. 

     I turn. “I want you to leave with her now.” 

     “It will take them a few more hours to crack the dome,” he replies, eyebrows raised. 

     “I want you to leave the planet along with the Western Dome’s tribal leaders.” Ryota gives a low laugh. 

     “Cowards.” 

     “I suspect our elders have joined them.” He smirks. 

     “I suppose you wouldn’t mind that much if a few of these ships were caught by the enemy...would you?”

     I watch as a ship’s wing is incinerated by the dome. It falls, flaming debris falling off until I can see the metal skeleton. 

     “I think it is only natural that a few escapees will be caught.” 

     “I suppose you’ll find some familiar names if you ever get a missing persons report.” 

     “Find a better life, Ryota.” He stiffens. “I know you miss Aisleen.” 

     “Probably not as much as you.” 

     “I’m not so sure of that. And don’t die. You need to take care of Maya for me.” A line of ships slam into the dome. It flickers. I tense. “I don’t want to see you in this village five minutes from now.” I hear him sigh. He yanks his hand through his hair as he stares at the ground. 

     “When they start to kill off the children, tell them you know where I am.”  

     I glance at him. He’s already gone. I watch the destruction in silence for a few minutes, then I go into our yurt. Maya’s gone. The bed is still warm when I lay in it. The yurt shakes from the force of the ships outside. 

     Ryota told me, as Maya danced with her friends, that they enslaved the leaders. That they would torture them until they could not remember their own names. And when they were done, they would offer the leaders salvation. They wouldn’t flinch when they lead the soldiers who killed their families. 

     He told me that they would often send an android of the leader’s most beloved, something they would be forced to kill. Something that would strike fear into the people and horrify the leader to distraction. Something that would make the leader make rash decisions. He told me to brace myself for what was to come. 

     I am not ready. I fear I will never see Rikku drunkenly croon over the fire or Ryota play the flute. I fear I will never see the embroidered banners of my homeland or the telltale feel of crisp morning air carried with the scent of snow. 

     I fear that I will never see Maya again, that I will never hold her in my arms and feel her lemon smelling hair tickle my nose. 

     I get up and walk out. I run down the deserted street, to the largest yurt, where our elders slept. I rest a hand on the intricately carved doors, my eyes studying them. They are carved with our clan’s most prominent legend. The Gadja.

    The elders spoke of a young foreigner who would lead a chosen people to battle the cruel royalty across a sea of stars. In a world of few beliefs, my people have come to find solace in such tales. Perhaps my mother knew this when she met my father. When she decided to have another, more foreign child when she knew tradition stated a ruling family should only have one. 

     I push open the doors, to the frightened people inside. 

     Their leader has come. And he will lead them to the Valley Past.