2nd of Nemulum, 333 EA
Kayakol, Odeshea
Xochit knew that fire is a difficult thing to keep hidden. It beacons others towards it, hypnotic, and if they will not come it can leap with a single spark. Still, she had snuck off into the night to light this one.
It had been an young myrtle, but sickly. Its bark had been clung with a mottled white, a fungus peeling away layer by layer. It would reach the core, soon enough, and then the tree would collapse.
So, Xochit had brought it to the blaze. She had knelt. She had recited prayers of elucidation to the great mother Efreeti. She’d invoked Djinni and Dao, too, knowing that it the ashes would end with them. There had been a moment, the wind rustling through the loss’s last leaves, when she felt as though there was some presence to the air and the ground and her own internal flame.
She had reached out her hand, the rouge of her skin matching almost perfectly to the petals of the tree’s flowers. She hovered it over a branch, particularly frail. And then, she spoke a word common to her family and to her people. “Kuedo”
Embers trailed off of her palm like raindrops, floating gently to rest along the branch and the underbrush. It was not long until it caught, small flames alighting here and there in the places that had dried enough. Those flames spread, up the branch and to others.
Xochit helped to shape it, using her inherent genasi magic to blow the flames across evenly, to keep them low enough that they would not be seen. To keep the conflagration only to that which was rotted.
It was ash now, and cinder.
“Kuedo Ynseun”, A voice creaked out from behind her, and the coals were lowered themselves gently to cool.
Xochit wheeled around, momentarily tensing for a fight, but when she turned relaxed once more to see two glowing eyes peering out from the darkness.
“Why do this alone, granddaughter?” Soqohro approached slowly, on steady legs made weary by the turning of time.
“Go back home Ama,” Xochit gave her an easing smile, reaching down to pick up her packs, “It’s not safe out here. There could be Rainier rangers out.”
“Bah.” Soqohro waved the thought away, the smoke wafting out of the top of her head disturbed by the motion. “I do not worry over colonizers. They would not hurt an elder.”
“They would, Ama.” Xochit reached out to put a steadying hand on her grandmother’s shoulder. “You need to listen, to keep yourself safe.”
“You did good here.” Soqohro continued to dotter around, ignoring Xochit’s instructions. “Let it go on in a very good way. It was sick, no?”
“Yes Ama, it was sick.” Xochit looked to the woods around her, and to the aether beyond it, and she sighed.
Soqohro settled herself on a fallen log. “Much is ailing here. That is why you are leaving, no?”
“You knew? How? I was careful, I didn’t-” Xochit grew remorseful as she spoke, “I didn’t even tell Bemi.”
“I knew because I know you, granddaughter.” Soqohro patted the log, and Xochit came to sit next to her like she had since she was very young. “You are keen, in your heart. I’ve seen the way that you take in the homethieves’ presence. The wishes you have to make things different.”
“I do want to change things.” Xochit sat up a little straighter.
“It is a funny thing,” Soqohro started, “for you to take a journey away as a means of making right what is already under your feet.”
“You don’t understand.” Xochit felt herself getting worked up. “There are ways, different ways. Here it’s all appeasement, or secret talk of war. But there are different ways Ama. The Athalial League, where these Rainiers came from. I’ve spoken with some of them, they say that there is a movement there to call back the colonizers from all of Odeshea. If I can go join their movement, I can let them know how bad it has gotten here. I can lead them to finally do what they intend to do, to free us.”
Soqohro did not speak for a long, tense moment. “I understand, granddaughter.”
Xochit felt herself release the air she had not realized she had been holding in her lungs.
“You did right, with the tree. You always do.” Soqohro placed a hand on Xochit’s shoulder, pressing on her to help herself up.
Xochit stood, turning away into the face of the unburnt forest.
“You are loved here, Xochit.” Soqohro called after as she started to move away. “Your relatives love you, granddaughter! Take that with you in all places you go!”
And with that, Xochit walked on to Athal.
The Etra Anthology 