Beneath a vast, dark-hued tent, seated on a wooden stool, a woman wept. Beside her lay the lifeless bodies of her son and husband. Lise wiped away her tears, then, in a hoarse voice, cried:
— Why must I lose everything again?
She clenched her fists, furrowed her brows, and stood. Her gaze moved from her son's body to her husband's. She let out a long sigh, head lowered, shoulders slack.
Next to her hung a rope with a noose. She climbed onto the stool, seized it, slowly closed her eyes, slipped the rope around her neck, and with a kick sent the stool flying. Breath cut off, her throat crushed under the weight of her own body, she struggled by reflex, in vain.
---
Two days earlier
At the center of a circular stone-paved square stood a well, fitted with a rope-and-pulley system. In the middle of the afternoon, a robust man with a thick beard pulled vigorously on the rope. His right hand was wrapped in a clumsy bandage. A wooden bucket filled with clear water rose slowly. He grabbed it and handed it to a young woman.
— I think this will be enough for the rations of the guards stationed on the wall. If more is needed, let me know. But for the three from yesterday, no rations. That's final.
— Understood. But, Elder, wouldn't it be wiser to treat that wound properly?
The speaker was a slender young woman, dressed in loose but rough trousers, a top covering only one of her arms and barely concealing her chest, and a dark cloth belt.
— It's nothing serious, Lieutenant. Finish your task and be on your way.
Beside her, a small two-wheeled wooden cart held two compartments: one filled with small rectangular wooden boxes, the other with cylindrical containers pierced at the top.
With a calm tone, she bowed slightly and said:
— Understood, Elder.
She took a cylindrical container, filled it, and set it aside. She repeated the action until she had filled about twenty gourds, which she loaded onto the cart before heading toward a watchtower.
---
Perched about ten paces above the ground inside the tower, Nezir — a young man with brown hair and tanned skin — leaned against the railing, observing the village.
Encircled by a wall of tree trunks, the village counted around fifty dwellings: his own, those of his parents, the village chief, and the other inhabitants — stone houses or dark-cloth tents. Children still played in the late afternoon, before being scolded by their mothers. Hunters were returning. Farmers tended their fields.
At the center, a large, almost empty circular square drew the eye. Nezir lingered on a figure leaving the square, pushing a two-wheeled cart. He let out a long sigh and called out, in an unnecessarily cheerful tone:
— Hey Jack, the raaations are here!
— Enough. Go away, doll's son, came an exasperated voice. A bald young man, dressed in a sleeveless black outfit identical to Nezir's, stood nearby.
— I have a name, you know! he retorted, heading toward an opening in the floor.
Nezir climbed down the ladder, paused for a moment, then approached the cart pushed by a young woman with dark braids and tanned skin.
— Good evening, Lieutenant Ange. Will we be having real Cursed meat today? he asked, looking slightly down at her.
— Good evening, Nezir. Just venture into the forest, and we'll feast, she replied in a neutral tone.
— I'd love to, but I still need to become immortal. After that, we'll see, he said, dead serious.
The young woman, her lips curling slightly, handed him a wooden box and two gourds before saying:
— Some already have children at your age, you know.
He took the box, hooked the gourds to his hip, and replied with perfect seriousness:
— As for children, all I'm missing is an Ange to have them with.
She raised an eyebrow, sighed, grabbed the cart's handles, and headed to the next watchtower. When she was far enough away, her lips stretched into a smile, revealing her teeth, and she murmured:
— I'm older than you, idiot…
Left alone, Nezir looked up, brows faintly furrowed, fixing his gaze on the greenish clouds that almost always adorned the sky.
— I hope I've managed, even a little, to chase away the dark clouds in her heart.
He handed a gourd to Jack and made his way toward the family tent. After a few minutes' walk, he stood before a large tent with a stone-paved entrance. Stopping there, he called out:
— Mother, I've come to say hello.
[…]
— Mother?… I'm coming in.
Entering, he was greeted by an empty mat and kitchen utensils in disarray.
He tidied the objects, sat on the mat, ate his vegetable dish, took a sip of water, then slowly closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, an orange glow filtered in from outside. Feeling his way out of the tent, he sighed, a slight frown on his face.
— Huh? Mother hasn't come back… Father is on well duty today. She's probably with him. Well… I'll greet them before going home, he thought, eyeing the light of a torch outside.
The night was so dark no one could move without risking injury, so each family lit a torch when the sun set.
In the flickering light, Nezir made his way to the well.
Torches hung on tall wooden poles planted here and there lit the circular square. As he approached the well, a loud voice rang out:
— Stop! Who goes there?
— Wall guard, Nezir, of the XXX family. I've come to see my father. It's his watch today. Why isn't he here?
— Your father is in the Last Day Tent with your mother. You can join them… but waiting until tomorrow would be wiser.
At these words, Nezir clenched his fists. His back damp, he narrowed his eyes, then replied:
— Very well… I'll go.
After a long walk, Nezir stood at the entrance of the Last Day Tent. He fixed his gaze on a gray-haired woman wiping the forehead of a slender middle-aged man.
He stepped forward into the tent, met the woman's eyes, and noticed a gash on the man's arm from which blackish blood seeped.
— Mother… What's wrong with Father?
In a trembling voice, she replied:
— Son… Do you remember the warning from the Sage of the North?
— "When you see black blood flowing from a wound, know that the person is cursed. If they do not awaken within two days, burn the body. But if they awaken, then they will be blessed."
— Then go. If in two days I return alone, know that you'll be fatherless, and I a widow. Keep this a secret.
At this, he nodded. His heart pounded violently. He turned to leave, but on his second step, his knees hit the ground.
— Son, what's wrong?
— Aaah… What's happening to me? My head… Nezir murmured as he left the tent.
— Hey! Son, what is it?
— Nothing, Mother. I was just a little out of it… I slipped.
He tried to stand awkwardly, took a few steps, but the only thing to welcome him was the cold ground.