The warm golden dance of the fire caressed the dry wood and weary countenances within the circled caravan, as hot emberlings jumped excitedly into the cool, crisp air. Cicadas chirped nature's sad soulful melody, echoing across the barren plain and dancing to the steady rhythm of the children's restful breathing, lulling them deeper into a thick, enveloping sleep. The western sky was pregnant with the beauty of the setting sun, as soft pinks and brilliant orange bled heavily into the yellow sky, soaking the earth and its inhabitants with cautious contentment.
"This is a sign, N'aschi. Our journey is blessed!" A great, booming voice exclaimed in glee, as the man behind it raised his thick dark arms to the west, weary from the many miles traveled. The pristine white of the sacred markings tattooed upon his skin seemed to glimmer in the gentle pastels of dusk, while his odd icy blue eyes sparkled quietly with hope. Smiling softly, and placing a warm, gentle touch full with the love and knowing that can come only from years of dedication to another on the man's bicep, N'aschi lifted her small frame upwards, so her small pink lips could caress his pierced ear.
"Our family is blessed, my love," she whispered, before kissing his cheek, rough with dirt and silver scruff. Her sweet breath filled his nostrils, and he closed his tired eyes to savor the fleeting moments of tenderness which their journey had so cruelly robbed them of. Turning his large hulking body, he brought his wife, still beautiful through the many layers of dust and the strain of aching muscles, close. He rested his chin upon her head of soft silver-blonde hair and crimson scarf, and inhaled the subtle hint of jasmine that had always lingered there.
"We are all wanderers on this earth…our hearts are full of wonder," N'aschi's humble voice began, breaking between each phrase, quivering as the ancient proverb poured from her mouth, "and our souls are deep with dreams. " Pushing herself back to look into his chilly cerulean eyes, she granted him a reassuring smile, "We will achieve our dreams. Together."
The large man smiled placing his large and calloused hand against his wife's soft mocha skin. The flesh around his eyes wrinkled with a rare display of happiness, and the warm wind rustled through N'aschi's skirts, lightly jingling her heavy golden jewelry.
"Foehn!" A wise and authoritative voice rang out against the disappearing sun, seaming to silence the constant singing of the insects shrouded by greenery, pulling the couple away from their tender display. Nodding, Foehn caressed N'aschi's cheek with one pass of his thumb, and turned on his bare heals, his loose-fitting garments of red and brown swaying in the wind, the bells around his ankle chiming as he walked closer to the fire, to strategize the path for the coming day with the other men in the caravan.
With a heavy sigh, N'aschi returned to their wagon, as the gleaming stars above began to show themselves. Her mind raced with the events that had led them to this impossible journey, this constant state of uncertainty. Flames and the smell of burnt flesh burned through her memories, acidic and merciless. The beautiful sparkling trinkets she had crafted and the life-saving medicine Foehn had mixed for those suffering within the village, burned and destroyed-ashes set adrift on a stray breeze. The bodies of their kin, limp and innocent, sprawled upon the cold hard cobblestone was forever etched in the walls of her heart, and as she gathered her blue and yellow skirts around her, to sit near her sleeping child as he lay in his humble bed of thin cotton and dried alfalfa, her soul ached at the absence of the others, young and sweet, who hadn't escaped with them. N'aschi ran her slim fingers through the small boy's hair, pale and long, just as his siblings' had been, and began to hum a beautiful lullaby, in an ancient language , whose translations and speakers had died out long ago.
"Mama?" The little boy's eyes opened slightly, strained in the candlelight. A small marking, much like his father's, sat below his left eye, and seemed to steal the orange glow from the fire, and instead resonate with purity and strength. He was a strange looking child, his eyes full with two separate colors, one mimicking the hue of a glimmering emerald, and the other pale, like infertile earth. Because of his mysterious appearance, the village had scorned him at birth, marking him with the 'devil's touch' the moment he opened his eyes. Foehn, however, had rejoiced, seeing his appearance as good luck, and proclaiming the child the 'savior of their people', sheltering him from the cruel stares of the outside world with his sheer size alone. He doted upon him more than any of their children, teaching him about the stars, medicine-mixing, and the art of fortune-telling. For such a small, quiet child, whom the world seemed to despise from the start, he was wise and insightful beyond his years.
"Will we ever find a home?" the meek little question flooded the musty air with sadness as salty tears filled the queer set of eyes to the brim. The young one curled into his mother's heavy, woolen skirts, and began to weep with the helplessness of a child's plight.
"Hush now, Gale," N'aschi whispered, stroking his back with the gentle pressure of a mother's touch, as tears and sniffles erupted from the fabric of her dress. "Our people have always wandered," she explained, refusing to shroud her child in lies, determined to keep him strong against the harsh realities of the world and the cruelties of its people, "and we have always survived."
N'aschi was a strong woman, who had never had a stable home until she bound herself to Foehn, and together they stumbled across the small, tolerant village to the North. Before that time, she had wandered with her family for hundreds of years, never allowing her heart to attach itself to one place or another. She was accustomed to the change, the dirt, the unrestricted life within the brotherhood of the caravan—Gale and his siblings were not. They were born within the confines of that same quaint Northern village, which had changed considerably through the decades since N'aschi and Foehn had first settled there, and had been immersed heavily into the grasps of magic-hating religion and goddess-forsaking madness at the time of the children's births.
Gale's sobs grew faint, as he drifted into a heavy sleep, the only thing, N'aschi feared, that could comfort him. She continued to rub his back, to soothe him in his dreams, as the wagon sagged under her husband's great weight. She waited for the heavy, nightly sigh, the mutterings of discouragement, the tales of the idiocy committed by the other men as they strategized and rationed for the next day. Her ears perked, awaiting her cue to comfort him, as she had comforted Gale moments before, though it never came.
"N'aschi! Gale!" Foehn hollered, the excitement in his voice obvious, "We've found it!" he exclaimed, his glee shaving off at least a century from his age, the boyish grin making him seem much smaller in the cramped, low space of the wagon. N'aschi urged him to quiet himself with her eyes, motioning to the child sleeping in her lap, but Foehn paid little head. "Tomorrow by dusk, we will have found our home!" he yelled, his voice echoing far from their wagon, loud enough for the six other families to hear. Laughing fully, Foehn exited the wagon, reaching his large, tattooed hand out to his exasperated wife.
"There is a sacred mountain in the distance, my love-a mountain of kings! With a sparkling coast! It is a sign from the Goddess herself!" Gale's eyes flew open, as a broad smile spread across his chubby brown cheeks. Shirking off N'aschi's gentle touch, he ran to his father, who scooped him up with a hearty laugh and tossed him, high into the chilly air. The boy giggled, looking happier than N'aschi had seen him in weeks. The fire in the center of the circled wagons roared to life, and laughter and music exploded into the night sky, challenging the stars in brightness. The men had begun to drink, as the women and children danced to the drunken symphony of folk songs. "Come, celebrate!" Foehn urged, his cheeks pink and his breath heavy from excitement. Smiling, N'aschi nodded and collected herself, taking her husband's hand to exit their quaint little wagon and breathing deep from the night. Tomorrow, they would make their way to this 'mountain of kings', to the first chapter of their new life. Tonight, however, below the silver stars and glowing ethereal beauty of the moon, with their golden bells jingling, and their ancient chants piercing the night, they would celebrate.