The world had bloomed. The many delicate lips of qaling flowers peeled open to reveal pointed stigmas. The Bayona Cherished Forest flanked the eastern walls of Rugerbin Mall. Leaves grew fat and verdant. Grass and moss strived over unnatural wreckage. Dreadmoss swallowed the shingles of sunken roofs in nearby neighborhoods.

Gaunt, bipedal bastards called dapies cried under moldy beds and shadowed corners. Black, saucer eyes scanned for predators. Green fur clumped with mildew and parasites. They despised the suns. Legends claimed that their love for only one mate manifested in hate for all else.

Dawning heat and the cold of night mixed to form dew in the most peculiar of places.

Most of the guardian gates throughout Rugerbin were down. Blankets hung over storefront windows, collecting precipitation.

Lenith heard someone crying from behind the blue door of the ‘Homemade’ shop. Its guardian gate was already pried open. She peeked inside to see a row of bare shelving units under a dim lamp.

Usvild stood past the shelves. He shoved a fistful of clothes into a gunnysack. His life mate lay on a cot with her face to the wall. She was weeping.

“Hey, Usvild,” Lenith said. She forced the door deeper into the wall. “Have you seen my dad? He’s been gone—”

“I have troubles to worry over,” Usvild said, tossing a pair of pants on top of the sack. “Go on and leave me to it.”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Your dad hasn’t lost his head yet. Search the woodlands. Check all the pitfalls and traps. Now, go on.”

On her way out, Lenith caught the life mate muttering “All lies. It’s all over.”

Ξ

Lenith pressed her back to the doorframe of another, half-opened guardian gate. She turned her head to avoid snagging her ponytail. It left enough room for her to fit. The buttons of her favorite shirt scraped the intricate iron as she slid through.

The former jewelry shop now belonged to Hegrib Shovur Aber. He first arrived at the camp two years after Lenith and her family.

Hegrib mitigated the risk of danger and disaster wherever he stayed. A heart condition kept him sequestered most days. Blankets and soft cushions replaced every jewelry case and glass shelf. His belongings lined the tile floor. Long-lasting, ultra-bright light bulbs defused through the shades of tall lamps. Usvild had bolted the lamps to the floor.

The withered man had no way of gauging his condition. Whether worsening or improving, he nullified the risk either way. The slightest scare could kill him. No one had an issue meeting his demands because, of the few demands he made, they were all too reasonable.

Lenith found Hegrib nestled across a collection of blankets and pillows at the back of the room. Skeletal fingers danced over a digital tome.

“Halfway through.”

Hegrib glanced at her. A smooth, fleshy divot covered where his left eye should have been; a birth defect adding insult to a weak heart. In retaliation, he had surgery to cover the socket.

Lenith gave a hip-high wave. An abomination, clad in an oversized, striped sweater, was the most pleasant resident to talk with. One of the few she went out of her way to see.

“It’s early for dawnfeast,” Hegrib said.

He set the slate down, settled onto his knees, and rose with both hands ready to catch a fall.

“You don’t have to stand.”

“It’s fine. I need my powders anyway.” Hegrib shuffled over to a pyramid of red boxes made from the durable material philok. He took a powder capsule from the top case and tossed down the hatch. He swallowed dry.

“So, it’s not an early dawnfeast?”

“Afraid not. How’s your heart?”

Hegrib tapped the top of the pyramid. “These keep me in shape. Oh, you mean after all the fire and smoke. Good. Nothing sneaks in once I lock that guardian gate. Not smoke, not fire, not nerves.”

His voice was much softer than the visage it came from. Soft, cautious, thoughtful. He went from touching the pyramid to drumming along the groove of his bald scalp. “What has brought you here then?”

Caught by surprise, Lenith had no answer. She lacked an absolute reason to be there other than to check in. She could have asked if her father had stopped by but it was an absolute lie. Herielt had spent as little time with Hegrib as Lenith spent with the Halibred children.

“I… I only wanted to say hello,” Lenith said.

“Ah. Oh, I wanted to show you something. That history chunk you lent me, I came upon something of interest within.”

Hegrib wandered to a portable screen among his piled belongings. It was flat and scuffed at the edges. A hairline crack ran down the screen at a slant. He took a compact controller adhered to the thick, black bezel and pressed a button at the bottom. Something in the screen thumped and a blurry video played.

Lenith could not tell what she saw. Hegrib scoffed and stuck the controller back on the frame. His defeat spoke. “Never mind. Another vid chunk worn down. I apologize. It was working yesterday.”

“It’s fine. I have plenty more.”

Hegrib’s optimism sunk. He ejected the vid chunk from the display and set it on the sill of a cemented window.

“I guess now I’m wondering if you plan to move out. It looks like Usvild and his family plan to and we are, too. Fire attracts predators, after all.”

Lenith received the exact response she expected.

“I’ll remain. We’re not all afforded the teachings of Herielt Thaymen. I lack the knowledge of shooting, hunting, or fighting. This frail body serves no one. But I grant your family luck.”

“If you change your mind, my dad will make accommodations. You can come with us. You don’t need to serve anyone. Surviving is its own service.”

A flash of resignation showed in Hegrib’s eye. He either had not taken the time to consider leaving, or it was sinking in how alone he was about to become.

To most, Hegrib was a burden that no one seemed to want and no one seemed to mind. He was the closest Lenith had to a friend.

He said, “I’m fine.”