Powerless

Zal sits by their favorite tree waiting for the sunset, lost in their Zal world, outside of time, when they hear the approaching drakesteps and cart wheels cross the farm behind them. They close their eyes and feel the soft moss under them with their hands, savoring the quiet before the camp comes alive again for dinner. Some Zal inside them anxiously awaits it, and they think they must be hungry. But this current Zal wants to stay here a little while longer.

Before long they hear the approach of soft footsteps on the ground. It isn’t Razha, she’s not so subtle when she’s relaxed. But it feels like a girl, definitely not one of the boys, except potentially Kurri. It’s too heavy to be Nadia.

Annia runs around the tree and sits down on its knees in front of Zal. Its eyes are uneasy and it is unsure what expression to make, or where to put its hands. They know this face, something is bothering it.

“Welcome home,” Zal signs to it.

“I’m so upset!” it signs, swaying back and forth uneasily.

“Do you want to talk about it?” they sign.

“No!” it signs.

“Do you want to share some hazeweed?” they sign.

“Yes!” it signs. It lowers itself to sit resting with its legs under it, and seems to relax as Zal takes their pouch of herbs and makes a thick roll of the dark green flakes.

Zal hands it the roll and a match and lets it have the first hit. It draws in quite a lot and holds it for several seconds before looking uncomfortable and coughing all the white smoke out of its lungs. Zal takes the roll from it and hands it a full canteen of clean water.

After it finishes coughing it takes a deep drink of water. “I wish this was mead,” it signs.

“If only Krev were a beekeeper,” Zal signs, keeping the smouldering roll in their mouth to use their hands.

It takes another drink. “You know what I appreciate about you Zal, you never ask questions.”

“I just figure if I need to know you’d tell me,” Zal signs. “You know what I like about you?”

It looks at them and tilts its head to the side.

“You’re the quietest person I know.”

Annia lets out an exasperated sound. “I just have a bad feeling about what happened today,” it signs.

Zal exhales their smoke and nods their head.

“I know we made the wrong decision, but we had no choice but to make it, it’s so frustrating.”

“I hate shit like that,” Zal signs. “Like you’re up against a wall.”

“I hate feeling so powerless!”

They hand it back the hazeweed.

“As long as there’s a wall left standing, we’ll eventually run into it if we keep moving,” they sign. “I try to learn to feel okay with being powerless. At that point nothing I do matters anyway, what will happen will happen.”

Annia exhales its smoke and hands the roll back to Zal. “That’s how you’re so serene all the time, you don’t worry about anything.”

“Sure I do. I just use a lot of substances so you don’t notice,” they sign. They sit up taller, looking past Annia’s head to see the setting sun through a gap in the trees. “Goodnight,” they sign to the sun.

Annia drops onto its back and looks at the sunset with its head upside down. “Pretty,” it signs.

“My second favorite time of day,” Zal signs.

“No matter where we were you’d always want to try to climb up to some treacherous place to get a better look at it, no matter how many times you’d seen it,” Annia signs.

“Everyone has their rituals,” they say and draw half of the little bit remaining of the roll. They hand it back to Annia to finish it off.

“Thanks Zal.” It sits back up facing them. “I can count on you not to just tell me ‘everything will be fine’ or ‘just trust your comrades’ or something.”

The bell rings for dinner.

“I love you comrade,” they sign.

“I love you, Zal!” it signs.