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  4. Raurie pulled back hard on the reins. Adjusted himself firmly in his saddle then headed into the mist. The others, one woodman, one stonemason and Eellona had to follow or wait the English to cut them up into tiny pieces.

  5. The three hundred year war had ended, and every person from my town had celebrated. Woman were pregnant, shops repainted, and the wood workers kept busy crafting new wheels for the old wooden carriages that the horses used to pull. Surely, now that the fighting had ended, they would be pulled once again.

    I’d been on the planet for 30 years, and had to fight off fear as I walked up the yellowy green hill that lay just beyond our home, before stopping at a spot that overlooked the entire meadow. I’d always been afraid, but had never left our residence on my own, an act which magnified the sensation.

    “Don’t be afraid, Charles.” My mother used to say. “And don’t be surprised that things aren’t quite right. We come from another place, and this is not our real home.”

    She’d said those lines to me countless times over the decades, and I thought about them now.

    I sat on the grassy landscape, the squishy green blades tickling the small of my back. Down below I could see the normally large tree that stood in our neighbour’s field, but from where I sat, it looked like a miniature model. My legs were sore from the climb, and I rubbed the back of my ankles to sooth them. As I massaged the muscle a sense of relief came over me like a gust of wind that suddenly rushes by. I’d had the feeling before, of relief, when Pa came home after a long battle at Shapon. He left two days later, and I never saw him again. When I cried, Ma said, “We come from another place, and your father is there now. Don’t hope for good in this place, because you won’t find it. Hope for good in what’s to come.”

    Hope. Suddenly I didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t here with me; she couldn’t stop me. I stood, and ran triumphantly down the hill, reeds and tall grass welcoming me with a touch as I sped toward the tree. I touched the bark carefully, caressing the intricacies of the ancient body. I grabbed the lowest branch, and flung myself onto its long protruding arm. Thoughts flooded my mind, of coming back to the tree every day, of venturing past the top of the hill next time, of visiting Shapon, and the other towns beyond our border. This is where I belonged.

    When I neared the top of the tree, I looked out across the meadow, and saw what looked like a long black wave moving down the opposite hill from where I’d come from, and toward me. I’d never seen anything like it, and my heart raced with anticipation. This place offered far more than what Ma had expressed, and I wondered if she lied to me because she never thought the war would end.

    As it got closer, I noticed the black line wasn’t a wave, but a legion of men, sprinting toward our town, all brandishing weapons, and torches. I could hear them shout “Victory for the serpent king.”

    The thought of the tree, and the meadow, and the grass, and traveling through the countryside, and meeting a woman, and having a job, and building a home, had been replaced with the thought of Ma, and everything she’d told me about where I belonged, and I was more relieved than I’d ever been in my life, and I was thankful to Ma for telling me the truth about life and looked forward to going to my real home, and knew with certainty that I would be there soon.