Skyward Faces

The petrified timber crumbled underneath Avilda’s fingers as she climbed. Her flannel shirt flapped in the wind, and she spied over her shoulder. She was high. High enough to see the approaching town Treberneck. And to the south, the ocean was cast in an orange hue.

The view from high above the plains had a subtle beauty. She was above the thin grassy ring between the mountainous forest and the endless sea. This was the ring humanity traveled around day after day. She climbed sideward to an enclave where she could sit and enjoy the view of the approaching dark horizon. Treberneck was running late. And most considered it a town running way too far towards the dark.

She was halfway up a finger of the great hand. Nobody knew exactly how old it was. But the structure had stood long enough for the mineral filled rain to petrify the frame. She looked up at one of the raising spires next to her. The sun chasers were simpler long ago and believed they could catch the sun. And so they toiled for years building and believing mankind could finally have rest from the ceaseless chasing.

Alvilda glanced down at the plain below, and she caught site of a shape in the tall grass. She sighed. Another one. And with Treberneck running late, they would probably neither see nor care to stop. Alvilda climbed down and approached the mass of cloth and bone. The skeleton must have been at least two days old. And it was a sun chaser. The two sunken eye sockets looked skyward. The other side of humanity rarely died that way. The ones that ran from the sun on the opposite side pressed faces into the ground.

Why did their faces look up? Sun chasers always had skyward faces. Alvilda lifted a partially decomposed cloth to reveal the cylinder. She opened it, thankful to hear a slight pop as it unscrewed. The seal had held. Alvilda unfurled the parchment and read a short and sweet message. The lady was a long time resident from one of the spring side towns. But old age had caught up as with all, and she was no longer able to pull her weight across the plains. She, by their oldest tradition, had let the cities and towns move onward. Sitting on the grassy plain, the old woman watched the seasons pass until winter came.

With only a few rations, quills, ink, parchment, and a small wooden board, she was free to spend her last stretch of time composing a memoir to be picked up by the next traveler and returned to her people. Alvilda began to roll up the parchment and put it back into the cylinder, but she noticed some ink scratches on the back. They were written diagonally, and some letters intersected one another.

“A lesser light is in the night”

Alvida shook her head and finished stuffing the parchment in the chute. The cold madness? It happened to a few. Some who proved more resilient sometimes added last minute addendums to their memoirs. Obviously in the dark.

As Treberneck approached, Alvilda made out the individual carts and heard the grunts of the steers. Wood and rope bridges between the larger carts swayed back and forth. People walked to and fro from the rope bridges and dangled in the air. One caravan with a wobbling wheel began to fall back. Workers scurried to the sides of their caravans where they untied the bridges and slung them back, and then retied them once the obstruction past. The town worked in unison as a single organism while that one caravan slid from their midst.

She recognized the cart and smiled. She put the cylinder in her satchel and began running.

“We need to stop meeting like this Travis” she said moments later. The wooden store had long settled to a stop. There was a loud moo from one of the steers. Travis climbed down from the side, toppling over. His belly made a quiver as he hit the ground.

“Well, the town was about to stop moving soon anyway for rest time. My steers are good’uns. I’ll catch up.”

Alvida grimaced at the man. How had he managed to survive this cruel world as long as he did?

“I am figuring it’s those carriage bolts again. Lend an arm?” said Travis. He wore a wry smile.

“Fine. What’s the word? Seems like you all are running a bit dark.”

“Oh yes. Close. We are really riding it close this time. I swear I keep seeing the face of the devil just on the horizon. Some people have already broken off to make it further ahead.”

“What is delaying us this time? Did some steer get into a patch of larkspur again?”

“Some miners fell too far dark way. They are attempting a rescue. Greedy. Probably tried to carry too much.”

“You guys are already too far in the dark all the time. How much further are they behind?”

“I reckon they fell all the way into night by now and past the great stormwall. A ranger had been dispatched to run back. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Alvilda pointed to her satchel.

“Take my inventory. You can pay me later.”

Alvilda began running towards the moving town. She jogged around the straggler steers, tied to the back of the veterinary caravan. Out of the thousands that pulled the town, there were always a few dozen that had to be cut loose and, if not soon healed, became food.

She climbed up the back of one of the caravans and began running to the front. Running across the rope bridges felt unfamiliar after being on solid ground for so long. She reckoned it had been at least half a day. Bridges swayed and sagged as she crossed, and the counterweights on the sides bounced with her long stride.

After passing a dozen rope bridges, she arrived at the lead unit. This wooden structure had over twenty wheels. She dropped down the stairs into the municipal government. Yellow light shined down the narrow hallway, with small wooden cubicles lined on either side. The clerks did not even notice her entry, each engrossed in their work. Some were leaning closer to their small cutout windows in an attempt to work under the waning light.

She continued forward to a thick door and gave a sharp knock.

“Enter” said a voice.

Alvilda opened the door and saw the mayor sitting with two other council members. The mayor sat at the opposite end of the table from the door with a hand in his gray hair. He looked up with a despondent face. His eyes were reddened, and he had a tremble in his hand.

“This really isn’t a good time for chitchat” he said.

“Zaire. Was he the one sent out?”

“Yes.”

“Did he have a horse?”

“Yes.”

“And the rescue plan?”

The mayor took a sharp breath.

“Alvilda” he said and then stopped.

One of the council members continued for him with a deep scowl.

“We have come to an agreement” said the councilman, looking back at the mayor.

“We are too far dark side. We will not delay any further.”

“Are we sending anyone else out?” said Alvilda.

“No. We made some supply drops. That is all we will do” said the mayor.

Alvilda’s entire body froze, but she also felt heat radiating from her face. She stared at the councilmen, and then she looked back at the mayor.

“Alvida, we simply cannot risk more resources at this point. Historically, it is uncommon for search and rescues to work this far dark side. More people would mean more deaths.”

“Send another ranger. They are trained for this. They are supposed to be nightwalkers.”

The other council member started to chuckle. “Not even the rangers walk the night. Those are just stories. Silly girl.”

Alvida opened her mouth, but the mayor spoke first.

“I won’t have any rude retorts like that in here” said the mayor. He looked back at Alvilda.

“He is right. We cannot risk it. Our best pullers are detaching and moving ahead, and this is only slowing us down even further. The meeting we are having here. It’s not even about trying to save one of our rangers. It’s about whether we can still save this town!”

“Firelight lantern. Two cans of oil. Three pounds of jerkey. Ranger jacket and leggings. And your fastest horse” said Alvilda.

Both of the councilmen started laughing. But the mayor did not chuckle or smile. He looked down and scrunched his beard.

“I will go myself on foot. If I die, it will be because you didn’t supply me.”

“You can ride?” said the mayor.

“She’s a tramp” said one of the councilmen.

“Shut your gobber Leon.”

“Why wouldn’t she just take the horse and flee to another city?”

“The rangers respect her enough to led her lead them.”

“Daughter of a whore, child of a - .”

“Enough Leon!”

“You can’t forfeit city property without council approval. Same goes for ranger equipment. So there.”

“She is part of the ranger core as of now. Check the bylaws. I can appoint who I wish.”

The mayor pulled out a slip of paper and wrote a note and then gave a hesitant stamp of approval.

“Take this to the ranger station. Horse is disposable if need be.”

Alvilda turned to leave.

“You are always snookered in, its no wonder we -” she heard as she ran out.

She would get back at that council member later. After she found Zaire. The exchange at the ranger station went quick. Her old friend Stolkes did not even need to look at the mayors letter. Stolkes knew what she was there for and was quiet as he gathered supplies from the numerous shelves.

“I want to go with you, believe me I do.”

Alvilda took a moment to process his words. She was racing to put on several layers of clothes and a waterproof leather poncho.

“You’ve got a lame foot. Staying is the best thing you can do for us.”

Alvilda grabbed the packs Stolkes had packed and ran out the back door where the horses were tied to follow the caravan. Moments later, she felt her hair tug back in the wind as the horse raced across the field. The sun warmed the back of her neck, while a cool wind nipped her face. The horizon was getting darker. The air colder.

***

“Alvilda, what have you gotten yourself into now” said Neoko. She turned around and saw her grandfather. A stern smile was on his face. He sat down on a fallen timber, and his crackled hands ran down his smooth polished staff. “You were supposed to be getting rest. We have a long walk ahead of us.”

“I didn’t feel like sleeping” she said with a frown.

“And in a short time, you will say you don’t feel like walking.”

“Can’t we stay a little longer?”

He lowered his gaze towards his own feet. “What is it now?”

“I don’t want to leave the forest.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t like the towns. I like it here.”

“We have a lot to carry, and I want to intercept Treberneck. They will have riders to morning.”

“Why can’t we walk to morning?”

“I am getting old, Alvilda. I can’t chase the sun anymore. My muscles ache, and my bones are worn. And you need to meet some people your age. Now come along, the last thing I want to do is miss Treberneck.”

Alvilda skipped along the narrow path, her grandfather trailing behind. Her gaze locked on the forest floor as she skidded to a halt. A sprawled mass lied on the the ground. This was not the first time she had found one. Moments later her grandfather came up behind her and rested his hand on her frazzled hair. They stood in silence a few moments. The corpse was shriveled with faded garments running down its back.

“A sun runner, Alvilda. From the other side of this world.”

“How do you know?”

“Why do the sun runners always die face down, and the sun chasers face up? What is it that the sun chasers see? Alvilda, there are some things we won’t know until it’s our time.”

He pulled her by the shoulder, but she remained.

“Shouldn’t we do something?”

“The sun runners will eventually make their discovery. We must go.”

“No. Mommy got a marker. I want to make a marker.”

Alvilda dashed off the beaten path and towards a nearby brook. Then she started stacking stones. Her grandfather stood leaning on his staff as she ran too and fro from the stream, each time with a stack of rocks. Soon, a marker was made.

“Now we can go” said Alvilda.

Her grandfather proved right about the sun runners. Two days later they passed the same spot again. The body was gone, but the stone markers remained. And on future days when she was nearby, she sometimes returned to that stone marker and remembered.

In time, the cycles marked the stones. They bleached from the intense sunside rays, and they formed pores from the freezing cold of darkside. Then moss began to take root during the spring periods of twilight. She missed those earlier days when the rocks had glimmer. In her youth, she walked in blissful ignorance with her grandfather. But now she walked the paths in the forests alone. She chased the sun on foot, stopping only to sell supplies and visit her grandfather.

She grimaced while looking at the moss covered stones. She had not stopped to see Neoko for an entire day. She would not skip a Treberneck visit again. Alvilda began a brisk walk, looking up at the color of the sky and to her sides at the foliage. The leaves were red and yellow, but not yet brown. This was the part of day Treberneck tracked. The middle of autumn. Treberneck would be close. She made her way to an intersection. There was the path straight south, towards the sea, a path west, towards the sun, and a path diagonal, which she took. The paths were shared by sun chasers and sun runners alike. There was no grand scheme to their design. They formed themselves over the thousands of days humans made their round trips about the world.

Being an autumn town, Treberneck always ran a little too close to dark side for comfort. Never in the dark, but close enough that the trees and shrubs began to drop their foliage and drip sap to seal off any chinks in their bark. They had to prepare themselves for the night. Yellow and red leaves fluttered in the air, covering up the old brown leaves that blanketed the forest floor and making a rich tapestry of colors.

Alvilda adjusted the strap on her satchel before beginning a jog. The roots and bulbs in her sack bouncing on her lower back. She had made some good finds foraging. Enough that she could take some time off. And perhaps enjoy being closer to day-side after visiting with her grandfather. After a few stops and starts of jogging, walking, and sitting by a cool brook, Alvilda caught sight of waving grass. Her shoes whisked through the dry grass of the field, and a few pheasants fluttering away. The ground in the center of the plain had no recently mashed grass. She was ahead of Treberneck.

A short while later, Alvilda made her way across the rope bridges, stopping by some of the stores, forges, and woodworking shoppes. Places she knew he could be working. Treberneck was a craft city, and a common stop for adventurous miners and merchants. She had been glad her grandfather had chosen this one. He may not have survived long in a planter or harvester city spring-side, being as old as he was.

After not seeing him, she frowned and worked her way to the front of the town. Towards the government. Had he moved to a town further dayside? Perhaps he wanted to see the spring, which was, after all, his favorite time of day.

She climbed down the worn wooden stairs of the municipal government, and stood in front of a stern woman sitting at a small wood desk. Her face was a continuous scowl with curled lips as if she were about to snarl.

“What do you want.”

“I’m looking for my grandfather.”

“Can’t help you. You are on your own on that one.”

The stern woman looked back down, absorbed in a ledger.

“Fine. Death records. Obituaries. Just for my ease of mind.”

The lady raised an eyebrow and then she turned to the dusty shelf that sat behind her. She pulled out a large volume. It made a boom as she dropped it.

“Name?”

“Neoko Izbek.”

The woman paused, her frown deepening. She got up and walked to a closet. She turned and handed Alvilda a small wooden tube. The floor jostled under a bump and Alvilda fell to her knees. The secretary pulled Alvilda up, her deep frown gone.

“I am sorry young one. This one came in a short while ago.”

“What happened?”

“The law, of Treberneck. The law of this world. Those who cannot work get left behind. It was his time.”

Alvilda gripped the wooden cylinder. And then she ran. Up the creaking stairs, across the sagging rope bridges, and down the side of a caravan. She ran home to the forest where she chased the sun under the shade of the autumn trees.

It was almost a half a day before she opened the wooden cylinder. Alvilda wanted to feel angry, anything to supplant the grief. But there was none. Abandonment of the old was a simple truth that all were forced to accept. Only the children seemed to protest. That innocence disappeared as they aged. If it had not been for Treberneck, Neoko would have been forced to die many days ago.

The letter was simple. Her grandfather was no poet. But the letter was honest, and that gave the words power. He did not rage against those who had forced him out of the city and abandoned him. There was much parting advice. Not all of which she would accept. She would not spend any more time in the cities and towns. She traded, then left.

“You must learn to take the forest with you. The cities bother you because you cannot find peace inside. You try to find it outside of yourself.”

She smiled at his words. The forest was home. He couldn’t understand. He only worked in the forest. She grew up in it. The paper was carefully rolled and put it back into its holder. Alvilda got up off the ground and began walking north.

A half day later, Alvilda emptied a sack onto the table. The merchant Travis gasped.

“Where are you getting these” he demanded.

“I found them.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere in the forest. Off the paths. Past the mountains.”

“For dark sake, alone?”

“Yes. Alone. Thats why I am able to get these to you so fast. No one to slow me down.”

He took several silver coins out of a drawer.

“I almost feel guilty for doing this.”

“Why?”

“Because you are going to get yourself killed! You are off the paths where no one will find you. You fall and break a leg, you die. If you twist an ankle, you die. You stub your toe on a rock, you die. ”

“Thats why these are expensive. And I look forward to the day I meet the dark. Perhaps I will walk there one day.”

“So, the legends are true then. About that crazy forest woman I keep hearing about from the rangers. Well, if I didn’t believe it then, I surely do now” he said.

She turned and climbed up the ladder to the top of the caravan, walking across the network of wood slat bridges to the central bank. Banking across multiple cities and towns made little sense. Multiple cities meant she had to have multiple accounts. The money was never where she needed it. She would carry it all herself if it were not so heavy and easy to lose.

She groaned as she approached the banking caravan. The line was all the way past the stairs and onto the rope bridge of the adjourning cart. It was going to be a long while. She leaned on the bridge post and groaned, staring at the grass passing by underneath. She felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Are you Alvilda?” he said.

She turned to a smiling man wearing a green jacket and silver shoulder pads. He was leaning on the adjacent rope bridge post, his wide hat tipped to one side. A forest ranger.

“Is Alvilda in trouble?”

The young man laughed.

“That depends if you are Alvilda.”

“I am. Do I need to run?”

“No. Not today at least.”

He smiled again as they met eyes. An awkward moment passed.

“So?” she said.

“Oh, yes. You see, I am being sent out on an exploratory mission near the mountains, and was told I could pick a partner to go with me.”

“Up to the mountains? That should be easy.”

He pulled a root Alvilda had sold out of his pocket.

“Where did you get this?”

“Wait, I sold that minutes ago. Are you stalking me?”

“No! Of course not.” He stopped leaning and stood straight.

“We are always looking for crews with experience near the mountain ranges to gather intel from. One of the ways we track down people like you is to look at what gets brought in. I know where these grow. At least, I think I do. These are well past the first mountain range ring.”

“You talk as if there is only one. That came from the base of the second mountain range.”

“What in the dark!”

“I know two good mountain passes.”

“Two? If you miss one, you could get trapped.”

“You mean, I get stuck for half a day walking in a big circle? Yeah, that happened to me once or twice.”

He gave her a blank stare.

“Don’t you pay attention to the motion of the seasons? The further north, the colder it gets. But the slower the day moves. It actually gets easier to keep up. Look at a wheel. The edge moves fast. The center moves slow. If you head far enough north, it slows down a lot. It’s actually safer past the first mountain range. Out there, if you get hurt, you’re dead either way, so might as well move slower.”

“I - uh, okay” he said.

The ranger was young and clueless. But having him tag along couldn’t hurt. If he started to slow her down she could just keep going.

“So, when are we leaving?” said Alvida.

As they approached the canopy of trees, Alvilda peeled off her moccasins and pranced across the soft foliage. They had arrived further day side. The fall colors were gone. Foliage sprouted leaves for the temperate window humans chased. Plants were unfortunate. They were stationary and had only short periods of time to blossom. She watched as a fawn scurried past. Plants were not like the birds and the four legged animals that walked along with the humans. They had to retreat somewhere inside themselves, peeking out their sprouts in short intervals when was safe. Which was only twice a day.

Zaire came up behind Alvilda. He was struggling to keep up with her.

“Do I need to carry some more weight?” she said with a smirk.

“No, not at all” he said, straightening his back. “I can manage.”

He paused as he looked up, a smile on his face. “A lark. Oh, it’s been so long since I have been spring side.”

“Reckon it’s nesting?” she said, sparking conversation. She, of course, knew the answer.

“You don’t observe birds much, do you” he said.

“They head much further day side. Almost to where they get burned. And the mother has to pick each egg up and move it nest to nest to keep up with the sun.”

“I always thought birds would have it easy, having wings” she said.

“Not exactly.”

Alvilda just wanted a short conversation. But she got a full lecture instead. This guy really liked studying birds. They had made it far into the wood, and he continued. Even further in, patches of moss carpeted the forest floor and burbling brooks ran between greenery covered rocks. And he was still going.

“Some birds even use portable nests. We don’t usually see them close to the prairie. But out here, it is common. They carry the nest filled with their young to keep up with the sun. Its a real misfortune when they fall apart in mid-air.”

“So I get that you really like birds. Is there anything else?”

“Maps.”

She thought she would regret asking the question. But this was a topic that interested her much more. Did he know things about the land she did not? Unlikely.

“So, tell me about it.”

He pulled a small book out of his shirt pocket.

“It’s all here.”

“That’s . . . you’re map?”

“In a way. This is just where I document details I find missing on our current ones. The maps we have lack features. Especially past the first ring of mountains. We don’t stay long enough. We just keep refining them when we dash back and forth. Bit by bit the master copy is being filled.”

Alvilda stopped walking and began making a small fire pit.

“Can you get a fire going? I am going to get us food.”

“I will make a fire. But don’t worry about hunting for me. I’m fine” he said. “I packed 20 meals.”

“No wonder you have been so slow.”

Game was easy to come by further day side. Autumn was the most difficult season. Animals were scarce, and the leaves crunched under her feet. Here, she could sneak up close enough to kill even without a sling. Alvilda walked back towards a small smoking fire, a dead hare in one hand. She pulled out the long knife from her waist, and from the corner of her eye saw Zaire wince as she made a single long cut. That’s when she really knew Zaire was a town person. He wasn’t too bad at navigating in the forest, but he did not truly live there.

Zaire did not speak while they sat by the sizzling rabbit. Alvilda occasionally got up to turn the meat, and then sat back down to finish working on the hare skin.

“So why. Why do you live out here?”

“It’s my home.”

“Home implies you are very familiar with it.”

“Well, mostly. I still haven’t walked these paths dark side.”

Zaire started to chuckle. “Who would want to? The idea of being caught in the dark on the prairie is frightening enough.”

“I want to go. I think there is something there.”

“Do you find putting your life in more and more danger thrilling? Traveling to the second mountain range alone is not enough for you?”

“I’m a big girl” she said with a smile.

He smiled back and started laughing.

“The loony forest lady. So the stories are true.”

The paths became thinner as they approached the base of the first ring of mountains. Some paths were overgrown with grasses and weeds. Not many people walked this far in. They reached a large stone edifice, then began a trek about a gently worn path around the base of the mountain range.

“So, do you know what pass you want to try?”

“I usually just walk around until I see a promising one.”

She heard a groan.

“No supplies. No plans.”

Two firepits, naps, and meals later, they came to the first pass. At least, that is what Alvilda called it. She heard Zaire sputter a few curses behind her as they climbed yet another rock face. She winced at them. They were pathetic curses. He really needed to meet some more of the miner crews.

“You see Alvilda, the idea of what we call a pass, it is something you can, you know, walk through.”

“And that is why I don’t use your maps. They assume I am some elderly lady with a stick. I’m a loony woman. This is a perfectly acceptable mountain pass.”

As they climbed down the other side, Zaire whistled. She turned around and saw him looking across the rocky alpine landscape ahead. A smile appeared on his face.

“Don’t tell me this is your first time past the first range” said Alvilda.

“It is. It totally is.”

A quarter of a day had passed when they finally returned to Treberneck. Alvilda sat next to Zaire in the field, looking towards the horizon. They waited for the mass of cattle and caravans to appear. He pulled out his notebook, glancing over his work. “We did well.” he said. “I took soil data, and trended the changes in foliage. I think my group will be pleased.”

Alvilda layed back in the grass, half-listening to his ramble while examining a cricket crawling across her arm.

“I am going to miss you” he said.

Alvilda glanced at Zaire rustling his newly grown beard with affection, razor in hand. He glanced at her “Oh, and you too of course.”

She spotted Treberneck in the distance and pointed. While his back was turned, she let her composure loosen and stifled a laugh. He was so ridiculous.

“How long are you planning to stay?” he asked.

“I’ll sell, and then I’ll go.”

“You know, you could stay in the town for awhile.”

“Uh, no. Not a chance. I sell plants. I buy footwear. And I leave.”

The city was upon them, and Alvilda ran with Zaire at her side, grappling on a pair of ropes on the side of a leading caravan. They could wait for the stairs usually found towards the back of the town. But ropes were more fun. While climbing, she glanced at him and noticed he had not finished shaving one side of his face. She started laughing again.

“Alright Zaire, this is where I go. I’ve got to grab some supplies and head out of here” she said when she made it to the top.

“Thank you. You are a good teacher. The best I have ever had” said Zaire.

She felt her face flush. “Uh, okay. Well, see you.”

She dashed off to the shops, eager to be off of the tangle of ropes and squirming people. Away to where the ground was still and the wind was filled with fragrances of plants. Where trees filtered the light in a colorful array. Soon she would be back. Soon she would be home again.

It was almost a half day before she returned to Treberneck again. She had a heavy sack of roots and flowers and followed her usual routine. Selling the roots to the shop with the shocked man, who marveled how she had gotten the plants. Then the footwear. As she turned to leave the cobbler shop, she saw Zaire standing next to the stairs. This time he had a short beard. He had decided to keep one after all.

“So . . .” she started.

“We have a team going out to the second range to explore mining.”

She started. “A mine? At the second mountain range?”

“At it. Or maybe even beyond it. It has been hundreds of days since humanity even thought about the second range. We figured we would give it another survey. After all, there have been stories of a single person who has been able to survive out there. For almost days at a time.”

Alvilda weighed her mixed feelings. The entire land past the first mountain range seemed like hers. Of course there were a few others like her that explored the deep wild. But she was the only person who knew how to survive in the deep wild alone for long periods. Now, she might have to share her home with more people. She looked into his hopeful eyes.

“Fine” she said. “But get the crew together quick. I don’t like lingering in towns.”

Alvilda felt the soft pine needles press against her cheek as she made her way up the steep wooded incline. She turned and saw the small team of three working their way up the coarse rocky hill. Zaire made it up first and sat next to Alvilda on the edge of a large stone.

“Do you always like to be by yourself?”

“It’s not that I like being alone. It’s just that I like solitude. If that makes any sense.”

“Nope, it doesn’t make sense. But I’ll pretend I understand what you mean” said Zaire. He had one of his silly smiles on his face.

“So, anything in particular you are looking for this time?” said Alvilda.

“Just a general survey. And, personally, I wanted to see if I could learn about the riverbird.”

She tilted her head.

“Now this is not a critter I have seen or heard of before. And trust me, I’ve seen them all. And tasted them all, believe it or not.”

Zaire laughed.

“Few have seen it. Keeps to itself for the most part. Very shy creature.”

“What is so special about it?”

“Its song. Nobody has ever heard it sing before. Some say it is quiet because it fears man. But I believe there is a place, somewhere out there, where the riverbird sings. Somewhere away from the crashing sea, across the grassy fields, and past these ragged mountains. And I want to hear it.”

The two other members on the team approached, and beads of sweat trickled down their faces.

“Well, looks like your friends finally got here” said Alvilda.

She got to her feet and continued up the hill. Alvilda did not pay much attention to the others in the crew. They were much older than Zaire. But, like her, they did not seem as talkative as Zaire. She continued ahead until their voices became a dull murmur. Then Alvilda looked behind and saw Zaire holding a rope while the other two scaled a particularly steep incline. The rangers were like one of the towns. Linked together and forming a stronger but slower creature. And they pulled each-other along by their collective ambition. She huffed and continued her climb.

While her walking time was solitary, camp time was not. Across the first mountain range, the team made their way into the lowlands below. They settled by a brook under the shade of broadleaf trees. Alvilda poked the slow burning fire, watching the small game cook on the faint red flames. The others huddled around their maps drooped across a stone. The largest one was Stolkes. The man was middle aged and had a constant furrowed scowl. The other ranger Dina was young and petite, but she had an unusually good sense of direction. Out of those three, Alvilda suspected Dina would be the most likely to survive if trouble arose.

Alvilda listened to their conversation, occasionally filling in details they missed. Eventually they all settled down for a meal and then a doze. Dina and Stolkes tipped their broad hats to block the sunlight and sat motionless under the trees. But while Stolkes and Dina lied down to sleep, Zaire sulked away to sit down at the bank of a small creek. She crept away from the two snoring masses and went to the creek next to Zaire.

“Journaling?”

He did not flinch in surprise. His senses were getting much better.

“Indeed.”

She plucked a leaf and tossed it in the water, observing it spin and swirl in the lazy current.

“Waiting for the riverbird?”

“Yes. Caught site of it earlier today. Shy thing flew away though.”

They sat in silence while Zaire continued to journal. Eventually, Alvilda got bored and walked back to the campfire to get sleep. When they all awoke, Alvilda led the crew westward to catch up to the sun more before trekking further north. During this time she taught them proper foraging. Rangers were used to carrying most of their food with them. But that was not how to survive far from the cities and towns. To chase the sun alone, one had to find food on the move. Rest time was hunting time. Sleep hidden, and sometimes game would come close. Walking time was foraging time. That is when she tore bark of certain trees, and plucked the leafs off edible plants. Most food was to be eaten, not carried.

It did not take long for the other two other rangers to respect her. Even be in awe of her. And Alvilda became more accustom to walking closer to them as Zaire learned to stop the continual chatter that irritated her. Occasional conversations still occurred. And she even started a few.

“Do you have any history of the nightwalkers?” said Alvida.

“History?” said the oldest ranger Stolkes. His greying red beard glistened with sweat from the beating sun. “I think they are more like legends now-adays.”

“But there is written record of them in your archives.”

“Well, yes. But that was also from a time when rangers helped build shrines in the forest to force the flashing demons back. Today, we just call them bad thunderstorms and forget about the shrines. Most of those books are stored in the caves now. We rarely retrieve them except when looking for some tidbits about geography in the far north.”

“Caves? So there is more than one of them? I have gone through some texts near Demon-Fist Cascade.”

Stolkes grunted. “I figured it was you who had managed to find and riffle that storehouse. By the way, it is a crime to steal from us.”

“I didn’t pillage it. I do take a book once in awhile.”

Stolkes laughed. “I won’t tell on you. I’m also not going to tell where the other record stashes are. If you want to access them, you need to become a ranger.”

“I’ll just find them. You rangers don’t know how to hide things. An out of place path is easy to spot. And how does becoming a ranger even work?”

“Well, you are paid by the individual town or city where you are stationed. But the order is inter-municipal once you are trained. First, you got to get a town to sponsor you. And that means hanging out at a town long enough to get to know people.”

Alvilda shook her head. Not that she wanted to be a ranger anyway.

“So, what do you want to know about these nightwalkers of ages past?” said Stolkes.

“Anything.”

“Well, to understand them, you need to understand the night. I am assuming you have tried going there at least once? If not, please don’t.”

“No, I have not gone dark side. At least, not real darkside.”

“Well, good. You’re not stupid. The first problem is the stormfront that hits right as night approaches. Most modern ranger accounts talk about the storm. It’s windy, cold, and dark except for the faint line on the west horizon. Next comes the fog and rain, which puts you in complete darkness. After that, well. Water stops.”

“That’s what I read. Freezing. I have seen it once, when I fell behind Treberneck” said Alvilda.

“There are rare cases you can see it in the light of day. If you are far back enough and the weather is abnormal. But out there, out in the storm? The chilled rain and fog drenches the landscape, and then the cold wind comes and makes the water stop. Nothing can survive out there for very long.”

“So, the nightwalkers. I read that they were people who walked behind the stormwall for long periods.”

“The legends say the storm wall ends. Ends quite quickly. And I suppose the moon we see towards darkside might give enough light to see back there, assuming the legends are true. You will notice the moon gets brighter as you go closer night side. And the cold gets more severe the further you go past the stormbelt, or so they tell us.”

They arrived at the base of the second mountain range. Granite edifices sprawled up into the sky. She heard Zaire whistle as he tilted his head up.

“There are no easy passes that I see from here. We will need to start circling” said Alvilda.

They walked for several sleep-wake cycles. Zaire was the first to spot the pass. It was narrow and involved a climb. But it was a pass. The ascent went well. She breathed a sigh of relief as they worked their way down on the other side. The foliage was different here. There were no broadleaf trees in sight. Around them, growing around the rocks, were small spruces.

Behind her there was a soft crack of bone, and Stolkes screamed. Alvilda turned and saw Stolkes leg caught between a rock. Her heart sank. The three of them lifted up the screaming man and took him to a flat spot. They took off Stolkes shoe and exposed a very bad break.

Stolkes glanced down at his fast swelling foot, huffing in pain. Then he leaned back against a nearby stone and looked at his two partners. And then at Alvilda.

“Its been a good time, Alvilda. Thanks. And don’t bother with a burial.” Stolkes reached into his jacket and unsheathed his blade. Alvilda turned her back to to give Stolkes privacy. She spun when there was a scuffle. Zaire had his hand on the knife, and Stolkes beat him on the head with a fist.

Stolkes, now sitting up, grabbed Zaire by the cloak collar and pulled him until their noses mashed.

“Not everyone wants to die in the cold Zaire.”

“This is wrong. Killing yourself is just too easy.”

Stolkes clapped him on the head again. “Stop being a child.”

Zaire fell back after Stolkes let go of his cloak. Then Zaire stood up and looked at Alvilda and the other ranger.

“There are three of us and one of him. He can be carried.”

Stolkes made a hoarse laugh.

“People like you are dangerous. They think they are being good, and get everyone killed. Dump the weak and move on.”

“No” Alvilda said. “Zaire is right. There is a way.”

“You can’t carry him over the mountain” said Dina.

“But we can carry him until he is healed up” said Alvilda.

“That could take over half a day.”

Alvilda took a small piece of string from her satchel and walked over to Stolkes.

“What are you doing?” said Stolkes.

She grabbed his two hands and started to tie him up. Stolkes pulled away to resist, and she whacked him on the side of the head with her elbow.

“Stop it.”

One sleep-wake cycle later, they were huffing across the landscape, carrying Stolkes in a makeshift stretcher. He was tied down, and one of his sweaty socks was stuck in his mouth as he fumed. This was a risky move. But Alvilda had to try.

They chased the sun over the landscape with Alvilda leading them northwest. Further north from the second mountain range, the larger rocks disappeared, but the spruces grew taller and thicker. They moved along the pine needle floor. At first Alvilda watched Autumn approach as their progress wained. The rare broadleaf trees they sighted bore the telltale signs. Dina and Zaire became nervous, but Alvilda, as always, stayed calm.

“Just wait” she told them.

It was twenty sleep-wake cycles later when she noticed a major change. For one, Stolkes had calmed down, accepting that they would not let him be abandoned. But the slipping of seasons had stopped. Their progress was accelerating. Foraging took less and less time. Camp breakdown and setup became routine. They were gaining on the sun.

Ahead of the group she climbed a tree growing in the crack of a tall jagged stone and looked ahead. It now had been a significant length of time, and they were still ahead of the night. She did her routine scan of the terrain, a path tracing in her mind. Behind her was the crew. Her creation. These rangers were now proficient in the ways of the northern forests. They had become masters. She felt a shake as Zaire came up on the branch next to her.

“Set up camp already?” she said.

He pulled out his book and a piece of charcoal and laughed. “You know, one of these days me or you will fall and snap something.” She glanced at Zaire as he concentrated on his writing. His unkempt beard masked how much his face had thinned. The jovial boyish composure was gone. His brows were lowered over intense quiet eyes, and his old demeanor only peeked through with an occasional smile he gave her.

“We’ll just have to make sure it only happens when Stolkes is better.”

Zaire squinted at the horizon.

“We did it. We recovered. We will actually make it back into spring soon enough.”

“I am amazed at how round the sun looks as we head dayside. Sometimes I am surprised it doesn’t rolling away” Alvilda said.

“It wasn’t long ago when we thought that was what the sun was. A giant fireball near the sea. They would dig trenches and leave barricades in hopes of somehow stopping it one day. The great hand was just the biggest one of many.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “A historian now, eh? I guess they didn’t go far enough day side to see it start to climb into the air. Most people are just very scared of the unfamiliar. They are afraid to explore.”

She paused for a moment while Zaire scratched in his book.

“Why am I different?” she said.

“I don’t know.” said Zaire. He closed his leather book. “That is something I always meant to ask you.”

Alvilda looked back at Stolkes and the other ranger Dina in the camp. Working together. Talking together. Laughing.

“Is it something that I have, or is it something that I have been missing?”

“Could be both” he said as he dropped from the tree.

Alvilda sighed and rested her back against the trunk. She should feel elated with her accomplishment. Laughter broke out again behind her, and she shook her head and dropped down. Maybe she was missing something. And if it was missing, she could find it.

A quarter day had passed before Stolkes was able to hobble along with them. They were ready to journey south. And forty sleep-wake cycles was all it took to get to the grassy plains. The crew stopped and let the breeze from the nearby sea cool their skin. They were at the edge of the treeline, their eyes gazing over the swirling spring grass. Stolkes grunted in approval. “We made it back. At long last.”

He started walking ahead with a hobble. “Well come along now. Imagine me being the first one to make it back to a town. Now that would not be fair.”

Once they were closer to the center, they sat in the field together waiting for a town to arrive. Alvilda laid down in the tall grass next to Zaire. “Did you ever hear the story of the man who fell asleep and got run over by a city?” she said.

“Why are you always so morbid?” said Zaire, his eyes already closed.

“Don’t know. But I heard it was quite a jostle. He was struck by a tavern and caused almost three hundred pence in spilled beer.”

Zaire opened his eyes and looked at her. “So, want to grab a beer when we get to a town?”

“No. I’m more of a cider kind of person” she said with a smile.

“Well, cider is Treberneck’s specialty. But I’m sure this coming springside town will have something.”

After a short nap in the tall grass, they heard the grunts and groans of a town approach. And once in the town, the four of them sat in the tavern caravan with a hot meal. The occasion was more social than Alvilda would have liked. Many from the springtide town had heard news of the missing Treberneck team, which was presumed dead. And that made them minor celebrities. Even before Alvilda had a plate in front of her, riders had been dispatched to relay the news back to Treberneck.

After her meal and cider, she got up to leave.

“Do you have to go already?” said Zaire.

Alvilda paused. She wanted to stay. But the mass of people in the tavern caravan was getting to be too much. Some of the crowd were even stopping by her table to badger the team with questions.

“I’ll see you when you get back to Treberneck” she said.

Alvilda climbed off the tavern and dodged through the mass of caravans and steers. As she worked her way back to the treeline, she felt a slight tug. She looked back at the springside town which was fading in the distance. She squinted and could see a small shape on top of the tavern. Zaire. Alvilda stepped into the swaying trees. She knew that tug she felt was only a twinge that would soon pass. Like the twinge when she left her grandfather at Treberneck for the first time. She wwould see Zaire again soon enough.

***

Alvilda had broken past the stormwall before she found Zaire. His body was frozen and staring up at the sky. Zaire had fallen a ghastly height and broken both his legs. But he had survived long enough to become one of the skyward faces. There were no signs of the others. Zaire had waited too long to abandon his search. She knelt by the frozen corpse and took the leather notebook tucked in his shirt pocket. Her gloved hand removed a streak of ice from her cheek as she climbed out of the gorge.

At the top a chilled wind blew past, and she saw the first mountain range in the distance above the trees. The moon lit the frosted terrain before her. Avilda tilted her head back and looked up at the speckled sky. Swirls of spots, of purple and white, painted the sky. Above was the answer. The reason all sun chasers faced skyward. It was beautiful.

Alvilda knew the ways of the forest, and now she knew the secret of the night. But this secret she would keep all to herself. Alvilda began her journey with the notebook packed carefully in her satchel. With the horse being set loose, she walked into the night and into the lonely wood. Her new home.