My Wish at the End of the World

Tomorrow Night

"Ok," she says, her voice bitter.  She steps backwards and turns around, her posture stiffening.  "So are you going to take this seriously?"

"What-?" I ask, confused, and start to stand up.  This is completely serious to me.  I would never joke about something like this, especially since I've been chasing this for years.

"Don't play with me!" she spits out violently and turns around, taking a step towards me, her foot slamming down on the floorboards.  "How could you seriously think there was some sort of shard here?  This town has been dying for decades."  She pauses and steps back quietly.

"I am serious," I say in a weak protest, but I could see why she might not have thought so.  I did rush in too quickly, perhaps.  Was there really no other way to test my hypothesis?  Did I take enough time to consider all possibilities?  I probably didn't consider this completely.  If I was wrong, or even if I was right, did I consider how it could affect the city and its inhabitants?  But despite my indiscretions, my oversights and my misjudgments, I am and was completely serious about this.  "I'm serious.  I didn't think it through and I'm sorry, but-"

"Didn't think it through?" Ether asks incredulously, disbelief and scorn flooding her voice.  "Of course you didn't think it through.  You just set a fire in a city in the middle of a desert.  There are houses made from dry timber all around you.  Of course you didn't consider if a spark from your little arson project could fly to a nearby house and burn down the entire city."  I nod, trying to show that I understand, at least in part.  Does she take it as patronizing?  "Think more and don't do it next time."

She turns away, walking to her room and I feel the vibrations from her walking away, closing my eyes and breathing out, calming down.  I relax, feeling my breath getting more and more even.

I must have fallen asleep, a fitful sleep at best, because my eyes open and close, my limbs aching and cold which I try to move but can't move far.  When my eyes open at last I feel weak sunlight on me, mostly blocked by roofs, only the soft flood that fills shadows, and I force myself to sit forwards, my limbs beginning to shake uncontrollably, my teeth chattering.  I stand up painfully, my joints cold and stiff, and rub my arms, startled at how cold my own flesh is.

I walk stiffly and slowly out of the library, the wood of the door creaking in protest, agreeing with my body, into the streets.  The light from the sun is a morning's radiance, bright but weak, and broken up near entirely by the buildings.  I force myself to walk into those strips of sunlight, sighing and letting it give me just a little bit more warmth, and walk out of the city.  There's nobody on post, likely still asleep, so I get out without trouble and walk out into the desert, into an area with full light.

I look around at the desert around the city.  I had traveled through this area in the cart, but my view was limited to the sky, so I didn't see the landscape.  It slopes up and down gently, large outcroppings of rock, granite if I remember correctly from my reading, sprawled across the otherwise flat ground, remains of the once-rolling foothills.  Between the rocks, and on occasions atop them, are small cacti with round, paddle-like spines, and plump fruits, red or green, and red flowers ranging along the edges of the spines.  The plants grow together in large clumps, spiky mounds of paddles and fruits.  They're likely the prickly pear cacti.  Throughout the desert, mainly in the ground between the rocks but some growing atop it, are tall dry grasses, their blades a light, dead, tan, and some vibrant desert flowers, ranging hues between yellow, pink, orange and more.  I approach a few flowers and cacti, my limbs warming in the direct sunlight, and see places where the both have been picked, nubs giving away fresh breaks or broken stems.  Some breaks seem quite new, while others 

I can't see it from here, but there is a dry riverbed snaking between the outcroppings of rock, the source of trade for the old city.  I had passed over and across it a few times during my walks in the city.  Even though it's dry, some people still build bridges for carts across it, most of the old ones having fallen down, for whatever reason.  Today it serves as a road, as much as one can call it that since it has no markings or paving, only its own walls for guidance.  Even the road I came along is only defined by its own packed dirt and various landmarks, from what I can see mainly cairns that stack up to my height, or perhaps taller.  They were built at first at the behest of scholars attempting to come from a kingdom without access to the dried river, abandoned when the scholars gave up, and grown by decades of travelers.