Sunset

By the time they reach the gates of Helbender Commune it’s nearly the fifth hour. The sun fell behind the mountain on their way up, but remains visible here at the top. Kurri climbs out of the cart, exhausted just from the ride up the mountain. Comrades come to greet them on their return. He needs to get away from the crowd, and he goes out to the field of moss under the giant trees.

He looks out through the gap in the bushes. The valley is already in the shadow of the mountains, alive with the lights of insects. Out west, the sun grazes the treetops on the horizon. A sort of halo surrounds it, an elliptical radiance of iridescent light.

“Ah, nice,” Zal’s voice says. He didn’t hear them come up beside him. “I ain’t seen that in a while.”

“What is it?” Kurri says.

“It’s called a corona. It’s actually the sunlight being scattered by pollen in the air, you can see that in the springtime in the mountains.”

“It is nice,” he says.

“Gods I just fucking love the sun and everything it does. I’m a person of simple pleasures they say.” They wave excitedly to the setting sun. “Goodnight!”

Kurri watches the radiating corona effect, mesmerized.

“I wanted to check in,” Zal says. “Your first firefight. I assume, anyway.”

“Oh yeah, I guess it was pretty scary. A bad bullet wound would be hard to deal with in the field.”

“You fixed Nadia up good, though. You were ready and you responded fast and effectively, be proud of that! You’ll get used to things like this,” they say.

The bell rings out from the kitchen.

“Dinner! See you tomorrow, comrade, I’ve got security shift after I eat.” Zal runs off toward the fire. Kurri keeps watching the sunset for a moment. The clouds are painted red. The lightning bugs start their patrol of the fields, and the cicadas start to buzz their hypnotic song.

He is hungry, though. He makes his way over to join the others. Kalen has made a stew that smells amazing, and Kurri fills a bowl up. People whose names he hasn’t memorized yet are crowded around the returning heroes as they retell their dramatic chase and combat. Kurri takes a seat next to Filla, alone on the other side of the fire.

“Always about them and their guns,” Filla says. “That’s fine though, I’d be overwhelmed from the attention.” She drinks broth from her bowl.

“How are you doing?” Kurri says.

She looks over inquisitively. “Well I prefer not to be shot at but it does come with the job. That doesn’t make it ever get easier, though.”

“Have you seen much action like that?” Kurri says.

“I’ve seen much worse things. But I’ve seen wonderful places like this too. I’ve gotten to take mold and mushrooms and herbs and make it into something people think is magical. I don’t think I’d want to be anywhere else.” She leans back and stares at the indigo sky. “How about you?”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” Kurri says. She looks at him as if he’ll go on. “I mean, I mean I was a medical student, you do see those kinds of wounds in a hospital. But I’ve never seen them inflicted. And, I don’t know, to see such nice people like Zal and Razha, to see them inflict such harm on people...” He drinks some of his soup.

“A sure sign of the times we’re in, my friend,” Filla says. “Don’t let the violence get to you. I know that’s impossible. But that ain’t our domain. We ain’t like them. We’re healers, we plug holes in our fighters. And they make holes in our enemies to stop them from making holes in us. That’s the life we’re in, make holes, stop holes, plug holes.”

“Do you think you could do that to someone, I mean, if you had to do you think you could kill someone like they do?” Kurri says.

“We all ask ourselves that sometimes in our lives. I don’t know, I don’t really think I could do it. I’m a healer, it’s against our nature to harm. I’ve been called a coward for that, even by people whose lives I saved because I wasn’t poking my head out where bullets are flying. I don’t care even if I am a coward, though, not everyone’s gotta be Razha.” She looks up at the sky again. The first stars are appearing. “Could you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really been in a fight before. Well, I guess I wouldn’t know until I got there.”

The twilight grows darker. The song of the cicadas joins with the echo of a train rolling through the valley far below them. He’s heard the sound plenty in the city, but it rings different here. It’s a hypnotic, haunting sound.