Chapter 9

        I was floating happily above a sunlit meadow. Children frolicked in the early morning dew. The air was fresh, like the smell after a heavy rain. I was jubilant in this peaceful place. In an instant, the ground began to shake restlessly. I was tossed into the air as the earth was torn up beneath my bare feet. A massive sinkhole opened up in the ground. I grasped the dirt at the edges, tugging wildly. I strained to not let myself plunge into the monster that was eating the exquisite meadow up. With a final jerk, I was thrown into the death pit. The hole, satisfied with its last kill, closed its wide jaws. I was descending at a rapid speed. The fall would shatter all my bones; this, I was positive of. I thrashed helplessly around, hollering for anyone. 

        I screamed into the morning mist as I sat bolt upright. The ground was still shaking ferociously. That's not possible. I thought, deceiving myself. I’m not dreaming anymore. 

        Near hysteria, I jumped to my feet, teetering slightly. In the near distance I could see hundreds, if not thousands of armed riders on horseback. All looked fit, their jaws rigid in concentration.  They poured expeditiously out from the mountain crags. The men possessed weapons almost my size. Bow and arrows glinted like fangs in the rays of light. Freshly polished swords bounced vivaciously at their sides. 

        Though the morning was young and I had yet to eat breakfast, my stomach flipped inside out at the sight I saw. These riders were not ordinary riders, for they bore the crest of my previous home, Mongol Empire Warriors. A blue flag dangled morbidly in the air, fluctuating back and forth. The men were focused, their faces blank sheets. The occasional snap of a whip caused a whinny of shock and pain from a horse. Other than that, they journeyed in a gigantic group. A sea of black. Black like death. They were a death sea. Devastation and loss followed them everywhere they went. Moving so swiftly, you could only tell they had been there by the number of bodies on the ground. 

        They look ready for battle, I thought in mere confusion. The only city near here for miles is… I did not allow myself to think the last word as realization doused me in icy water. My subconscious spoke it so softly that it sent an echo tumbling and whirling through my veins. Kievan Rus. 

        I was sinking into the ground, the earth swallowing me up. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. I was a stone statue, carved and stiff. Hate and anger coursed savagely through my veins. These were my people, I thought with repulsion. Finding my feet, I took a painful step forward to get a better view. I was concealed for the most part. Camouflaged with the shrubbery, I dared to peek over the spiky leaves. Just as I brought my head up, someone turned to me. One of the riders on the edge. His black eyes were pieces of coal, gleaming meanly. Just as he dissipated around the bend of a valley wall, his eyes met mine. His face turned to shock, recognition, then fear. The encounter sent beads of sweat stumbling across my forehead. 

        The soldiers had almost all gone by now. At the tail end came four heaving men stuttering up the hot, sandy ground, carrying what seemed to be a bed. Chiseled gold captivated my vision as I hadn’t seen something so rich or alluring in months. The detailed portraits carved into the soft metal were far beyond my vision reach. Red curtains stretched exquisitely across two delicate windows on either side. The red was not as deep or gruesome as blood, but an appealing sunset color. The curtains parted to reveal a man, lounging his eyes half closed. He seemed to be either relaxed, or dazed. His round abdomen informed me that he had more than enough to eat. His sophisticated robes were flecked with royal colors and lined with gold. He shifted loftily, his beady eyes fixated on some imaginary montage far in the distance. This man was not just any man, but Odegi Khan himself. I pivoted to look away from this abhorrent creature who just happened to be His Majesty. 

        Abruptly, I snapped out of my haze of entice and hate. Kalyna. In her mind, she had a few weeks left. A few weeks to either save her city or prepare for near-certain death.

         I ran a few yards before stopping. I would never make it in time. I pictured my arrival scene: the walls being stormed, terrified children running for their lives. Artem and Kalyna dead on the ground, life seeping out of them.  I shook my head to clear my hazy thoughts. I had a reason to come here. I had a reason to keep fighting for my life or others. My inspiration was being lugged around in a golden chariot right before my eyes. Odegi Khan nearly destroyed me. I was the only one who could build myself up again. At least enough to fight for what I know is right. 

        My tangled, ebony hair bounced around my elbows as I picked up my pace. I ran for myself, for my family, and for Kalyna. It was a freeing sensation with the wind in my hair and my feet pounding out a rhythm. I just ran and ran because in a way, it was my duty. Kalyna and Artem had kept me alive for the past week, bringing me food, clothes, and water. I owed them that much and more. 

        It was only when I came tearing around a bend that my elation faded. Unmistakable screams of alarm echoed through Kievan Rus. Was I too late? 

Chapter 10

        Something was amiss. I could feel it in my bones when Artem never showed up to walk me to the forest as he did on normal days. I tore down the steep slope to the market, searching fiercely for him. I strolled up to a man at a stand. 

        “Do you know Artem? He’s sixteen years of age, tall…?” 

        “No clue,” the man spoke roughly. “Sorry Miss.” Just before sunhigh, I gave up. Trudging back to my home, I suddenly spotted him standing very still near the edge of the forest. I broke into a run, relieved he was alright. 

        “Artem!” I called out. My voice rang around the tall evergreens. There was no answer. I could still see him standing there, his head cocked as though listening to something. Everything was silent. There was nothing to hear. I opened my mouth to speak again when he put his finger to his lips. Creeping across the dewy grass, I slithered up to stand beside him.  

        “What is going on?” I asked slightly alarmed. 

        “Can you hear that?” His voice was tight and stiff. 

        “No…” 

        “Exactly,” he answered faintly. “The forest is too quiet.” I was quiet for a moment, listening. He was right. None of the usual chitters or squawks could be heard. Just an eerie silence that made me uneasy. I swallowed hard, pushing away the feeling of dread that creeped up my spine. 

        “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I responded reassuringly. 

        “It’s definitely something, Kalyna. I know these woods better than anyone.” His aquamarine eyes mystified me as the intensity of his gaze grew. 

        An echoing bang startled me, and I looked up, confused. What was that? Artem grabbed my hand brusquely and led me to a meadow near my house. Now I was able to see where the sound was coming from. Something was banging on our beloved limestone wall that surrounded the city. Not just one person, but many. Castle guards ran frantically around like blind hens. 

        “Who’s there?” Someone shouted up against the wall. I spotted a thick crack running along the wall like a viper. I was frozen to the spot, beyond terrified but unable to take my eyes off the scene. By now people came rushing out of their homes, scrambling hectically to get a view. In an instant the crack grew wider and longer. It wrapped around the wall, transforming it. The viper opened its jaws.  The limestone burst, and a tidal wave of stone came crashing down over the guards. Standing there, a triumphant look on their faces, were Mongol Empire warriors. 

        Their general stood poised on a majestic black stallion in the front. His face twisted into a nasty smile as he uttered the words, “Mongol Warriors, attack!” Thousands of riders dressed in heavy black suits spilled into the field. I felt someone tugging at my arm. Artem broke into a run, dragging me with him. We dove into the secure bushes at the edge of the forest and collapsed. I was terrified beyond words. Our small, greatly weakened armies didn’t stand a chance next to them. 

        A resounding crash came from what was my church. The refined walls crumpled beneath the weight of a giant boulder. Gold goblets made an appearance among the dust and rubble. The stained glass windows broke into trillions of shards. 

        I fearlessly darted out of the bushes. Ignoring Artem’s calls, I grasped a piece of smooth glass and held it close to my heart. They were not just targeting our people, but our cultural history as well. The symbolic cross that rose high into the sky was now a dented disarray. A thought hit me like a ton of limestone. My father’s out there! My father was vulnerable out there, lost of any protection. He was a mouse in a field with a hawk. A mouse with a sword and arrows, but a mouse nonetheless. 

        “Artem!” I practically screamed. “My family’s back there!” 

        “I know! Listen,” His voice dropped to an uncannily calm tone. “I have to go help fight. I don’t have a choice. Get your family out of here, but most importantly, you stay safe. I can’t lose you.” He spoke tenderly, and my insides melted at his caring words. 

        “Please stay here,” I begged softly. 

        “You know I can’t. If we make it out of this alive, I’ll be waiting for you.” 

        “I can help you! I can fight!” 

        “I can’t ever do that. I’m sorry.” Just before he rose he gave my hand a small squeeze. His eyes crinkled into a small smile filled with pain and remorse. I closed my eyes and held onto his hand, his fingers twined with mine. Finally he rose and began to walk away. I watched him as he walked into the peril of the battlefield, praying he would make it out alive. 

        The sprint home was treacherous. I kept to the side, merely watching as arrows shot through the sky. Blood pooled in small puddles on the ground, and a sickening odor hung in the air. Artem and my father couldn’t be seen as they were lost in the commotion of the battlefield. 

         I willed my feet forward and rounded the bend to my cottage. Suddenly, my heart stopped. The place where I had grown up, the place where most of my memories, happy or sad, had been made, was now a blazing inferno. My little house was a crumbling shell of its former self. Wooden beams were hollowed, falling to the ground beneath the flames. The blanket my mother had made me for my fifth birthday was slowly turning into a smoking, smoldering pile of ash. The once-sturdy structure full of life and happiness was dead, never to speak again. I fell to my knees, heat radiating off from the conflagration stinging my eyes. Tears of pain and loss poured thickly down my face. Bits of ash flecked the sky and meandered down to settle on my clothes. 

        Through my tears, a colorful figure floated toward me. I blinked until my sight-line was clear again. 

        “Anastasia,” I murmured softly. My little sister looked ragged, her eyes gray in despair and hopelessness. She did not cry, did not make a single sound as she gently grabbed my hand to pull me up. She began to walk shakily behind our devastated house. My mother sat, hunched over on the cool forest floor. I immediately strode over to hug her. 

        “We were so worried about you!” Her voice was hushed and full of tears. 

        “I’m sorry…I didn’t know…” I broke off abruptly. Any excuse or apology would be utterly meaningless at this point. 

        “No one did,” she stated, not referring to the same thing I was. We sat in forlorn grief for an eternity. Not one sound was heard, not one movement made. I cautiously stood up. 

        “Where are you going?” My mother’s tone was dangerously low. 

        “To help win this battle,” I looked directly into her demoralized eyes, sending her a soundless message. She briefly opened her mouth and then shut it again, understanding the responsibility I held myself to. 

        “Be safe.” 

Bodies littered the ground, their glazed eyes staring into the unknown. Grass was torn up, soaking the flowers in spilt blood. The trees were charred around the bases, their limbs swaying hazardously. Fire arrows. Oftentimes in battles, warriors would light their arrows on fire to double the peril of their enemies. 

        Why keep fighting? I asked myself. What’s the point of wanting so much? All my life, I was comfortable. I had a bed, a warm house, and food. Sure, there were times after a meal when I yearned for more Pampushky, or when I argued with my mother about more time in the field at night. After all, I’m only human. Never have I had such burning ambitions to become a legend, someone people talk about for years after their death. That's not the case for some people. I thought sadly, staring at a broken body. 

        This man’s arms were held up in a last attempt of self defense. His eyes were wild with fear, knowing he was never to see the light of day again. Worst of all was the arrow stuck through his heart. It was a mark, a souvenir of what had so cruelly ended his life. This truly was humanity at its worst. 

        The swoosh of an arrow cut through the air menacingly. It stuck to a warrior’s chest on the  opposite side of the field. Bewildered, I glanced up to see who had fired the arrow. Artem. The amiable boy I knew was replaced with a machine, bent on demolishing his enemies. The bright light in his eyes was now a dim, mortally focused one. He fell back behind the lines of older soldiers, and I took my chance. I tore up to him, the sodden dirt sticking to my bare feet. 

        “Kalyna!” His tone was full of precarious shock and anger. “You can’t be here!” The words I spoke were deathly serious. 

        “Artem, you don’t understand, I have to be here. If something were to happen to you or my father, I couldn’t live with myself knowing I had just stood by to watch.” My declaration seemed to stun him because he took a small step back. 

        “Why do you have to be so difficult?” His tone wasn’t angry but fragile and broken. Reluctantly, he reached up and pulled a spare bow and arrow out of his quiver. He carefully placed it in my trembling hands. The wood was polished and sleek. Browns and black blended together, making a pleasant shade. In a way it was the only beautiful thing about the battlefield, the first ray of sunlight in a storm. 

        “Thank you,” I replied gravely, knowing this weapon was a death-saver and a death-maker. I pulled the arrow into its place. I stretched the string back and let go. My arrow soared across the gray sky and found its target, embedded in an opposing soldier's heart. 

        When you kill a human being, one of your own kind, you can’t go back. For the rest of your life you have to live with the guilt of taking another's life to save your own. 

        The man’s blood spewed immediately out and spilled down his uniform. He gasped a quick breath, foam bubbling at his lips. He swayed, bleeding all his life out before collapsing to the ground with an echoing thud. My mind raced, and my thoughts were dazed and confused. I had killed him! There was no hesitation in my mind at the time. I had just cold-heartedly put him to death. He was the enemy. I tried to justify my actions, but nothing made it right. 

        I began to sweat furiously. My stomach bubbled noxiously. There was no way I could go on with this. I have to. For my people, city, and most importantly, my family. They had to be avenged. Taking a steadying breath, I leaned against a ginkgo tree. My head was clearer than before, my lungs open. I ran farther away from the line of trees, right into the heat of the battle. 

        I caught sight of Artem’s wavy, golden hair. He was fighting hard for his life, his face red. Still no sign of my father, I flung arrow after arrow into the battle; my aim was truly impeccable. I flew down rows upon rows of soldiers, wounded, dead, or struggling. The battle was a whirlwind, and somehow I managed to stay alive. Surprised eyes were on me at all times. A girl in battle was unheard of. After every predator I killed, every full-grown man, the warrior's eyes still taunted me. Arrows were aimed toward me, trying desperately to knock me out of the game. I ducked and dodged, trying hard to make it look easy. 

        After what seemed like hours, I finally caught sight of my father. He was battling a big warrior on a peal-white horse. The man was big, built up of muscle. Despite his size, he dodged blows from my father’s sword as if it were second-hand knowledge. It was only then when my father caught sight of me. 

        “Kalyna!” he bellowed furiously, his mouth twitching in panic. His moment of distraction cost him. The warrior slashed violently towards my father. He glanced back just as the sword crashed down into his armor. He was knocked off his horse to the ground, unscathed by the sword but wheezing from the force of the fall. Consternation seized his face as he stared up at the towering shadow that stood over him. A sword was pointed directly at his heart. The jagged blade could easily tear him to shreds in one quick flash. However, the man seemed to be enjoying stalling my father’s demise.

         I slipped silently, coming in closer to him every second. Compared to some of the colossal men on all sides of me, I was merely a mouse in a field full of elephants. I crept cautiously, dodging behind a lone horse when I needed to. My father was trembling heavily, his eyes closed and his lips moving in a soundless prayer. He was coated in sweat, and blood dotted his forehead. I could shoot an arrow at him, but he was laden with thick armor.  Without stopping to think, I jumped out from my crouch behind a random body and screamed. The man’s head turned towards me. A mixture of confusion and anger ran wild in his wide eyes. His sword turned upon me; I gathered an arrow ready for release when he went limp. The fierce light in his eyes had darkened to an impassive one. I looked up, startled to see Artem sitting on his stallion, a sword clasped in his hand. He jumped swiftly down from his horse, a perturbed look on his face. 

        “Don’t ever make me save you again.” 

        “You didn’t have to,” I murmured, relieved to know that he was here with me, okay. 

        “I did.” 

        “I owe you my life and so much more,” I whispered shakily. His only response was a small smile that lit up the whole field. A moan from the ground cut off my brief oblivion. Tato, I thought. I dropped to my knees to examine my father more closely. His uniform had been torn off near his ribcage, revealing a dark red wound. The sword did get him. I glanced up to Artem who knelt above me. 

        “Help me carry him to the trees!” I grabbed my father’s shoulders, slick with blood. Thankfully, the majority of the fighting had moved on to the far side of the field. We neared the edge of the forest, and I rested my father’s head down on the spiky grass. At that very moment, a rogue arrow came hurtling towards us. 

        “Artem!” I screamed in fear. The arrow sunk smoothly into his flesh. He let out a cry of pain.  

        What am I going to do? That was the first thought that flashed brightly in my mind. I was torn between helping Artem and my father. Neither one was the better choice. Hysteria seized me like a vice, and I bent over to stop the waves of it coming. A distant call made me look defeatedly up.  A small figure, coming closer, was waving enthusiastically. Saran. Thank the stars. I bounded up toward her and practically tackled her in a hug. This girl risked everything for me and my city. She traveled for months by herself just to find us. I have never been more grateful to anybody. She seemed to understand my silently transmitted message, for she followed me to the place where Artem and my father lay. 

        “I know what to do.” She spoke calmly, her voice controlled. She bent over my father to examine him. I scooched over to Artem, who had fainted with the pain. As soon as I reached for the arrow that still protruded from his leg, his eyes flew open. 

        “It’s okay.” I tried to speak gently, but my voice trembled, and tears poured down my cheeks. “It’s going to hurt for just a second.” I sniffled and gathered up my strength. Clenching the arrow between my hands, I mentally counted to three and tugged. 

        A tidal wave of blood followed the release of the arrow. Artem shouted out in pain, and I squeezed his hand for support. Blood was still rushing evenly out of his wound and pooled on the ground. I needed something to stop the bleeding, fast. I desperately searched the ground near me for anything. My eyes stopped on the hem of my dress. The fabric was thin from the wear of the battle. I grasped it and tore a piece just big enough to cover Artem’s wound. I carefully wrapped it around his leg and secured it with two sticks. My makeshift tourniquet would have to do for now. 

        For the first time, Artem seemed aware of the happenings around him. He blinked, dazed and struggled upright to a sitting position. His face contorted with pain as he tried to move his leg. 

        “Don’t,” I commanded harshly. His chest rose and fell for a few seconds before speaking. 

        “I guess we’re even now.” He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. I didn’t even smile at his attempt at a joke. 

        “There.” Saran spoke the word so delicately. I turned to face her. 

        “Will he be alright?” 

        “I believe so,” she responded, sounding exhausted. “I’ve bandaged the wound to stop the bleeding. That's the most I can do right now.” 

        “Thank you.” I replied, sharing a smile with her. “Where did you find a bandage?” 

        “From that magnolia tree over there. It’s a kind that's meant to grow giant leaves.” She pointed to a tree a couple yards away. Why didn’t I think of that?  “My mother showed me all the natural resources to use in case I ever got hurt. I never knew they’d come in handy,” she continued. 

        “Thank you,” I said again. I searched for more adequate words to show my gratitude. Without her, either Artem or my father would probably be dead by now.

         I rose and brushed off the dirt that was now stamped into my knees. I walked out of the clearing to get a better view of the battle. The fresh air cleared my head, and I was glad to be rid of the putrid odor of blood. I was looking down into the battlefield. Just mere minutes ago, it had been filled with soldiers. I was puzzled and befuddled. Where could such a large number of soldiers have gone? As if on cue, I suddenly noticed a man limping toward me. He was short and round with a gash in his leg. I was immediately on guard. 

        “Miss…?” he called out uncertainly. I relaxed when I saw he was wearing the Kievan Rus armor. “I come with terrible news.” Like I need more of that today. I rolled my eyes grumpily and sighed. Might as well hear what he has to say. “The Mongol Empire-they stormed the palace. The Emperor is in captivity.” He paused to catch a breath. I let the news sink in. “There is no choice but to retreat. We are too weak. It’s over.” 

        "What do you mean?” My blood raced as fear took over. 

        “They are taking our people captive. They’re forcing them out by the point of a sword. Take your family and friends and get out of here before it’s too late!” He spoke with chilling urgency that was etched across his face too. 

        “Okay. Thank you.” With that, I was off. I took off towards my demolished home, where my mother and Anastasia were patiently waiting for my return. I flew to the back of the pile of ash that was my house. They were still there. My mother’s caramel hair was disordered, and her eyes had black circles rimming them. A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes in my presence. 

        “Hurry!” I called in a low voice. I relayed the details about everything that happened up to this point to them on the way. They listened carefully, their eyes round. 

        Back in the clearing, I was beyond relieved to see my father sitting up and talking to Saran. When he caught sight of me, his eyes mingled with pride, joy, and disbelief. I strode up to him and hugged him fiercely, being cautious about his injury. 

        “I have never been more proud, impressed, and scared,” he whispered lovingly. I simply hugged him harder. After a few moments, I straightened up and explained for the second time what the strange man had told me. 

        “We have to go right now,” I warned them. 

        “Okay.” It greatly surprised me when my mother spoke first. Her fearful aura had been replaced by a new, courageous one. 

        “But Tato,” Anastasia began, “can you walk?” 

        “We’ll get his horse,” my mother suggested.  We were ready in a split second, ready to venture out of our only home to face the unknown. Saran and Artem, of course, were coming with us. With Artem leaning in between me and my mother for support, we crept down past the battlefield. Successfully, we made it just to the edge of the fragmented city gate. Artem fell still. 

        “Come on.” I willed him forward. 

        “No,” he whispered plainly. 

        “What do you mean, no?” I asked, bewildered. 

        “I mean, I can’t make the rest of the journey. I’ll only be a weight, dragging you all down.”

        “No you won’t. You’re coming,” I replied with an air of stubbornness. Artem leaned against the remainder of the wall and grabbed my hands. 

        “Do you think I want to leave you?” he asked, and tears pricked in my eyes. “I’m only trying to do what’s best.” 

        “But that’s not what’s best!” I argued. I leaned in closer to him, only to see the pain of choosing in his eyes. 

        “Please trust me.” 

        “I do.” I breathed. For a long moment we stood there, oblivious to anything else but each other. I stared into Artem’s brilliant green eyes. I longed for him to stay close to me. I couldn’t possibly let him into the fatal clutches of Odegi Khan. 

        “Please,” I finally begged. I knew all my efforts would be futile. He didn’t say anything in response but kept staring into my eyes, a look of sorrow upon his face. 

        “Kalyna! They’re coming!” Anastasia’s squeaky voice surprised me. Indeed she was right. Three Mongol warriors were appearing at the crest of the hill. Artem turned back to me. 

        “Please just do me a favor. Stay safe and alive. It would be so much easier for me to leave knowing you’ll be safe.” Words failed me as a dagger of anguish stabbed my heart. I nodded. 

        “I’ll probably never see you again.” These were the only words I managed to choke out. 

        “I know,” he stated plainly. “Just know I’ll never forget you. I’ll always be thinking about you. Maybe one day we’ll meet again.” There were no words to say, so I fell silent.

        Just as the riders began to charge down the hill, Artem wrapped me in a hug. His arms circled around me, making me feel safe despite everything happening. Artem broke away just as the riders came into view very near to us. He nudged me out of the city gate and gave me one last smile. I knew this was the last time I would see him. The world was vast, and I would have no way to locate him. A part of me screamed to stay with him until the very end. But my family needed me. Saran needed me. 

        “Kalyna!” said an urgent whisper. Anastasia again. I jogged to catch up with my family. 

        We began our long journey into the great unknown. I didn’t want to look back into the pain of the past. However, I knew Artem would be there. 

        We walked and walked, only stopping to rest at night. We walked away from the pain and despair we left behind. We walked towards a new future. We walked in hopes of finding a land where we could finally be at peace and prosper there.

         In every step I walked, I kept my final promise to Artem. In every step I took, I hoped with all my heart he was safe like we were. The Mongol Empire had split us up into a fragmented, torn, devastated group. Their icy talons had clawed us, leaving a deep wound. Now wounds can heal, but scars will remain forever. 

-Emily W.