By Evan Lorbiecki
The Battle of Takuro had been the quick and jagged final breath for the city. Refugees are not born quietly, and Mentra’s ears were still ringing. Now she found herself surrounded by the few dozen other survivors as they made the journey away from the ashes of their lives and towards the remains of their future.
Some men and women had survived, but the faces around Mentra were mostly those of children. By Mentra’s side, her daughter Vara was walking, without having said a word since they escaped Takuro.
In time, Vara asked, “What happened to Ponzu? We were playing but I lost him when the noises started.” Mentra swallowed hard and said, “I’m sure he’s okay. There are other groups that made it out.” Vara looked around the smoky hillside, her eyes a bit brighter. And so they kept on.
The grassy hills turned to dirt, and Mentra began to tire. Her body felt weak, and her mind was troubled by the endless road on which they tread.
In time, Vara asked, “Mama, where are we going? I don’t see anything on the road.” Mentra forced a smile and said, “I know where we’re going. I made this journey when I was your age, and at the end of the road there’s a city just like home but better.” Vara’s steps became lighter, and she kept her head up to the road they had yet to travel. And so they kept on.
As the sun began to set over the hills before them, the survivors stopped at a pear tree to eat. There weren’t enough pears for everyone, and Mentra could only get one. She gave the pear to Vara and said, “Here, take this.“ Her daughter began to eat it excitedly.
In time, Vara stopped eating the pear and asked, “Mama, aren’t you hungry?” Mentra looked over at Vara and with a twinkle in her eyes said, “No, my darling, I am not. Taking care of you gives me more strength than an entire army.” Vara looked up at the cherry-blossom sky, and after a moment broke the remaining pear in half. Mentra listened, as Vara handed her one half and said, “Here you go. I’m not hungry either.”
Then Mentra watched as her daughter walked over to a child who had been crying alone away from the group. She held out the pear as an offering. The child looked up, and Vara said, “I thought you would like this. I’m not hungry, and I need a friend.”
Ataraxia Rex 