Nomads

For as long as anyone can remember, the land has been plagued by an unending storm. This great tempest obliterates everything in its path as it aimlessly traverses the world.

My people call it “God’s Wrath,” for we believe it to be God’s punishment for our sins. The only place where we find shelter is at the core of the disaster, the eye of the storm. And so, we nomads follow in the steps of this giant.

No one knows what is beyond God’s Wrath, only that its footprints leave wastelands behind. Our only hope for survival is to keep moving. This storm can take us at any moment. For us, nothing is permanent.

As soon as we get the safest distance away from the back of the storm, we set up a rudimentary camp. After all, we have to be able to collapse it quickly when the storm catches up.

Everyone in the clan has a job. If you are not setting up camp or taking care of the mounts, then you must be looking for supplies: food, water, wood, or anything else that can assist us in our travels. Of course it is difficult to procure anything since we are lucky to find anything the storm has missed.

Just as I had finished scavenging for any remaining edible plants, I heard my father yelling:

“Eleina! You have to hurry back now!”

“What is it, father? What happened?” My father rarely spoke in such a tone. Panic had already crept into me, flowing down my spine like a trickle of cold water.

“We miscalculated the storm’s direction. It’ll be here soon. We don’t have any time to spare. We have to get going this instant!”

Without any hesitation, we ran back to camp. The other clan members had already begun to dismantle our camp. The path God’s Wrath took was often hard to predict, so we had all gotten used to quickly responding.

“Lissa! Lissa! Where are you!” Ms. Corren’s voice rang out as she scurried throughout camp looking for her daughter. Lissa has always been like my sister, so I, too, began to look for her. Hopefully, she had not gone off to far. Lissa is only a child, and she could get lost easily.

“Do you know where you last saw her?”

“I let her go off to the riverbank earlier to go play,” Ms. Corren said in a shaking voice. The expression she wore was not unlike the one she had when she lost her husband just a few migration periods ago.

If I was not mistaken, the river was back in the same direction as the oncoming storm. Ms. Corren and I hurriedly climbed up the hill behind camp and confirmed our fears.

A kilometer away lay a winding river. Lissa’s unmistakable blond hair poked out from the surrounding grassy field. Ms. Corren immediately ran down the hill, and just as I thought about chasing after her, something pulled on my collar.

“Don’t go after them,” my father said grimly. “Can’t you see the walls of God’s Wrath beyond the river? If we don’t leave now, it’ll devour us.”

“But what about Ms. Corren and Lissa? How can we just leave them?” There was no way I was going to lose them. We already lose so much because of this relentless giant, but now it wants to take our lives, too?

“Lissa is all Ms. Corren has left. You know what happened to her husband two years ago,” my father said sadly. “If she loses Lissa too, she’ll have nothing to live for.”

I argued and argued. We had to get them. We had to save them. We could not just leave them to die. But my protests went unheard.

“Eleina, listen. Ms. Corren knows what it means if she goes after her Lissa, but she chose to anyway. Don’t you think this is what she wants: to be with her daughter until the end?”

I knew he was right, but I could not accept it. I did not want to lose them. I collapsed onto my knees as I cried out.

My father picked me up and put me over his shoulder as he walked toward camp. I kicked, screamed, and cried to no avail. I could see Ms. Corren with her daughter by the riverbank, and I could swear they seemed like they were smiling. I knew they were already long gone.

I secluded myself under the blankets in the carriage as we drove away from the tempest. The roars of the raging storm, the neighs of our trotting horses, and even my toneless cries faded into silence.

For us nomads, nothing is permanent.