A Flame in The Wind

Chapter 7 - Nadia

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Once we were through the gates, we were led to a dais where the other prisoners had conjugated upon. What I could see beyond the line was a table where a woman was holding a book and writing in it. A man seemed to be directing those in line into different groups, five in total. More wagons awaited those who had been sorted.

The man pointed to one group and shouted in the foreign language that I couldn't identify, and the prisoner hopped onto a wagon. "What are they doing?" someone ahead of me whispered to the person behind them.

"They're sorting you for work, now be quiet," a guard passing by said as he glanced over all of us as we walked. It was so strange to feel intimated with the absence of weapons. Not a single guard held a weapon of any kind, but the aura around them was too alarming to think clearly. I could tell I was not the only one as many of the people in the line looked warily upon the guard who had just spoken.

When my turn arrived, I made sure to hold my ground and look the man straight in the eye. They were most likely looking for weakness as one would assess their prey. They were no room for weakness or faltering. Those who were sickly would no doubt be cast off aside. Whether they would be let go or killed I wouldn't know. Life was one of many risks and gambles, and I was taking one now by sizing up the man before me.

After looking from my face to my tattered clothes, he shouted a word "Kuluq," as if an audience was listening and would applaud such a decree. The woman wrote as the man leaned in towards my ear, "be thankful I'm not sending you to the whore house for your lack of respect. Learn some before someone less kind than I give you what you deserve. Now move along Teqi Canvar"

I could barely register what he'd said as he shoved me in the direction of the wagons he'd pointed to, causing me to stumble and almost fall on my face. The wagon began to fill and soon we were back on the road. The cramped boxes of wood on wheels became my home once more. The days stretched on and the fields began to turn to dust.

What had the man said to me as his final words? Surely, he must have known that many of us could speak their language. Teqi Canvar, the words upon my lips were nothing but sounds I'd never heard before. I could not decipher whether those two words were bad or good.

I could practically feel the sand on my tongue as the roads stretched on and there was a haze on the horizon. I didn't know what laid past this stretch of useless land, but civilization seemed a great deal better than the sweaty and weary humans I was trapped alongside.

The next day, once I'd awoken, the sound of people could be heard. I stood up as best as I could and looked out the little window and blinked a few times until my eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the sun.

The sight was magnificent. Left and right, stalls of brightly colored objects were displayed upon racks and tables. Any and every building I laid eyes on was covered in artwork. The colors ranged from a deep blue to the most vibrant orange. The artwork was done in squares upon the walls.

Many of the people in the streets either disregarded us or looked on curiously at who could be locked in the wagons. They wore the strangest clothes I'd ever seen. Many wore long pieces of cloth rapped around their body. Many women covered their heads with cloth to protect them from the blinding sun, while many of the men along the road wore strange hats instead.

The smell was so much different from my pleasant little valley, instead of the smell of dirt and the forests were gone and different smells came to my nose that I'd never smelled before. The scents were not unwelcome, just foreign.

In just a few moments, we passed the road and entered a large open area where the scene before me resembled the same set up of platforms from when we had just crossed the wall, more platforms were set up and empty wagons laid off to the side.