Leave? To go where?
(Chapter-specific trigger warnings:
- Vomitting
- Totalitarian regime
- Violence? (not really, but it won't hurt to put it there))
Lusamina was sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, her hands open to the flames. She gave a small smile as she imagined that she was the one controlling the element, slowly moving her fingers. Ging had gone to wash in a nearby river, shortly after Lusamina had washed herself. So she waited patiently, her hair sticking to her skin and clothes, droplets rolling down her hunched back. And when Ging returned from his little bath, she slowly raised her head towards him. He gave her a small, embarrassed smile before sitting down opposite her.
"Are you all right?" he asked after a long, uncomfortable silence.
Lusamina nodded slowly, and Ging shook his head, then looked at her for a moment. The orange light on her face cast shadows that accentuated her slightly dull eyes, and her drawn features.
"Listen, um... About your friend..."
Lusamina looked sad, and lowered her eyes to the dirty floor of the cave.
"Imel..."
Ging was silent for another moment. He hadn't expected her to speak, he had to admit. He hadn't expected her to want to talk.
"Yes, er... Imel."
He frowned. He'd assumed she was far less verbal.
"I don't think she's abandoned you. I think... there's a lot we don't know, in this story. But I don't think anyone would blame you if... Well. If you hold a little grudge."
Lusamina shook her head slowly, and Ging sighed, ruffling her hair.
"Go to sleep, Lulu. It's late."
It took the little girl a moment before she stood up and retreated further into the cave.
She didn't manage to fall asleep. Or rather, not immediately. Not because the dampness bothered her, or because she was afraid of the dark, but because of the familiar but unpleasant sensation of rumbling in her throat. It wasn't really something that hurt anymore, it was just an unpleasant experience.
She rolled over until she was lying on her side, parting her lips to let the bile flow between her lips. At least she didn't cough, so her throat wasn't as dry and sore as usual. She tried not to make a sound, but the gagging couldn't be suppressed. She could only hope that Ging didn't hear anything.
...
The next day, they set off from the cave. Ging didn't ask her about the brown stains on the floor when he came to wake her up. And perhaps that was for the best, because she herself had no explanation to offer.
So Lusamina simply followed her friend - could she call him her friend? She wasn't sure - as they headed for the border. She had never been so far from the capital, but she didn't protest, her breath taken away by the sight of the great mountains that she could only make out in the distance where she lived. Her shoes, the soles of which were barely holding on, were for the first time treading on something other than the dreary tarmac streets of city centres, or the arid lands of the neighbouring countryside where people were starving.
She didn't have so much trouble coping with the uneven paths and the stones that crumbled under her weight. It was just like walking on roofs with steep slopes and slippery tiles. She found it hard to keep up, though, her back bent under the bag she'd taken from Ging as soon as they'd moved away from Imel's house.
Imel.
Lusamina couldn't get the thought of the soldier out of her head. She was convinced that Imel could never have abandoned her. It just didn't make sense. Imel had always fought to ensure that no one could ever harm her protégée. Lusamina had been hidden from the world while in the open, and God knew the consequences the soldier might face if Lusamina had been discovered.
No papers, had Ging said.
Lusamina wasn't surprised. She vividly remembered the day when everything had been razed to the ground by an aerial projection. The fire that chased her then paled in comparison to the blazing sun under which she climbed, with Ging, to the highest point around. She looked out over the landscape, her breathing ragged, her forehead covered in sweat, and yet she felt fine. Better. The air was less stifling and the misery no longer encircled her.
She followed his finger as it pointed off into the distance, towards the small towns scattered here and there dozens of kilometres away.
"Over there, that's the Republic of Western Gordeau." Ging announced, turning his face towards his travelling companion. Gently grasping her elbow, he pulled her towards him. "It may have the same name as the place you come from, but it's a whole different world, you'll see. All right, it's not that I don't like you, but I need you to stay here for a while."
Lusamina looked up at him with eyes that were both worried and inquisitive.
"I'm not going to abandon you, Lulu." He reassured her as he ruffled her hair, managing to loosen a few strands that had stuck to her forehead from perspiration. "I'll just make sure the coast is clear. We can always wait until dark, of course, but I'd rather get you out of here as soon as possible, to be honest."
Lusamina pursed her lips, in a slightly discomfited pout.
"Why?" she asked in a hoarse voice.
Ging let out a laugh.
"What do you mean 'why'? Lulu, you're sick as a horse, this country's rotten to the core, and you've got nowhere else to go."
Ah, he'd noticed...
Lusamina looked away to the small towns on the horizon, and Ging sighed.
"What I meant was that it's better to be lost and alone in Western Gordeau than in Eastern Gordeau. We'll think about it once you're no longer under the radar in this country, OK? Trust me a little longer."
Lusamina sat down patiently. She decided that it would indeed be better to trust Ging. Because at least he knew where he was going.
...
In the end, they waited until nightfall before heading back down. Ging had met a charming little customs committee, and he had decided that it was safer to act in the dark. He had given her very clear instructions, and she was just waiting for the signal to act.
She waited in a hollow in the rock, a small crevice into which she could slip, sheltered from the lights shining on Ging as he approached the customs barracks. She had to be quick.
She covered the distance to the border in short strides, her steps as silent as a mouse's, and when she reached the ditch, she took a deep breath. She threw out the grappling hook that Ging had entrusted to her, which locked onto the ramp on the other side so that the inhabitants of Western Gordeau wouldn't inadvertently fall. And she closed her eyes for a moment. She gave herself a moment to pray - even though she had never been religious - before jumping into the ditch, and had to summon all the strength her arms could muster not to be caught up in the darkness below.
Don't look down, had Ging warned her, handing her the grappling hook. Easier said than done. She was now aware of the mass she represented, her whole being pulled downwards. He had told her to wait, because trying to climb on her own would only tire her out more than necessary. How ironic. She could feel her arms tearing, the contraction of her meagre muscles aching, but she was holding on, she wouldn't let go.
Ging had kept the backpack with him and was taking furtive glances through the barracks window. He could see in the darkness that the grappling hook was in place, perfect. On the other hand, the customs officers were taking an inordinate amount of time searching his backpack - he'd invented a little sister from whom he'd kept souvenirs for his trip, and who happened to be waiting for him - and checking his identity. He gritted his teeth at the thought of Lusamina and her clammy hands slipping off the rope.
He restrained himself from letting out a grunt when they finally handed him back his belongings, and took off without asking, running to the railing to grab the metal end of the rope and pull Lusamina out of the ditch. He grabbed her by the armpits so as not to strain her arms, which must have been aching, and congratulated her on her strength.
To tell the truth, he didn't know what he would have done if she hadn't held on...
...
The pair arrived at an inn that welcomed those who managed to cross the border. The innkeeper was a friendly woman who let them in without asking for payment, and helped the little girl to wash up. It seemed that she herself was an escapee from the constantly guarded territory. In those days, there was no such thing as a ditch, and dozens of metres of barbed wire stretched across the border. She still had scars, having lacerated her body trying to escape.
Ging suppressed a shudder, then turned his gaze to Lusamina who was eating in the corner of the room, surrounded by other children. She was silent, but seemed to be in good spirits, watching the discussions with a certain fascination.
"May I ask who this child is to you?"The innkeeper asked, not hiding the suspicion in her eyes.
Ging nodded slowly. He understood that suspicion, after all.
"No one, Madam." Ging admitted. "To tell the truth, I had simply come to the territory to observe the tomb of Kyong Hyo, who... Err, surely you must know who he was, excuse me." He tapped his fingers nervously against the glass that had been offered to him. "Lulu made me a map of the capital, so I could go there. And, when I went back to see her... Well, she was alone."
The innkeeper seemed to consider him with her eyes.
"Where are her parents?"
Ging simply shrugged, and the woman sighed heavily, continuing to wipe the counter, which was perfectly dry now. She looked up at him, eventually, with tired but happy eyes.
"My name is Hwa Subin." She then introduced herself, stuffing the cloth into the pocket of her apron. "I left the Republic of Eastern Gordeau a good ten years ago. And yet I can't bring myself to leave the border. Do you know why?"
Ging didn't dare interrupt.
"There's something strange in the air once you leave home. You feel a nostalgia that sticks to your skin. Because this famine, this misery, this misfortune, it's the only thing you know. You avoid good things like the plague, when you've always been treated like an animal.' Mrs Hwa - or was it just Miss? He didn't see any ring on her finger - paused for a moment, scanning the room with her gaze. Her eyes lingered on the group of children in the corner of the room, chatting in low voices but with large gestures. 'It took me years to be able to function again, to recognise what was right and what was wrong, to be able to say to myself that, at last, I'm free."
She remained silent for a few minutes, lowering her gaze to the counter once more. In her eyes, you could read all the suffering in the world. It was a look that Ging had seen time and again as he wandered the streets in search of the tomb of the fallen monarch Kyong Hyo. The last of his dynasty, who had brought down with him all the wealth of land and men. The tomb had been abandoned, with the population growing resentful of the monarchy. Ging had come to the country in search of this emperor buried under hatred and rubble, and he had found it, this tomb that stretched for miles beneath the country, where delirious species had developed, where all the royal families that had ever ruled Eastern Gorutô and its former colonial empire rested.
"I'm Ging Freecss." He said after a moment, folding his arms across his chest. He didn't want to touch his glass again.
Mrs Hwa nodded slowly.
"Pleased to meet you. And the little... Lulu, you said?"
"Lusamina." Ging corrected, biting the inside of his cheek. "It's just me calling her... Anyway."
Mrs Hwa took back his barely-begun glass, but didn't throw it away immediately.
"And where are you planning to take her?"
Ging sighed heavily.
"I'm pretty sure I saw something in her. Something beyond my expertise, so I'll have to take her to a friend. Who lives at the Jappon, so that's quite a drive from here."
Mrs Hwa shook her head sharply.
"For God's sake, don't even think about it. Leaving the Mitene Union with her will be impossible for you, I'm afraid. The airports and all the ports in the country are being closely watched, and if they suspect she's from Eastern Gorutô, they could have you imprisoned and..."
Ging shook his head in turn, with a small smile.
"Ah, I think I forgot to say that I'm a professional Hunter. Don't worry about us."