Chapter 13
Departure
On a clear winter day, people were at the edge of the street preparing to load goods onto the large animals.
They were the traveling merchant caravan.
Having come to the mountain village during the autumn festival and rested for a long while, they had at last reached the day of departure—before the snow would seal the village.
The next time they would visit this village would likely be at the time of the next Fire Festival—twenty-five years from now. It was the merchants’ way of life, repeated over and over across generations. People would age and change, but the bond between the merchants and the village remained, continuing without end.
But this year, there was one difference: among those departing from the village was a single boy.
That boy was Maya, nine years old, who had lived with Amna and received many of her stories.
He believed he had grown strong through many encounters and experiences that year. Yet to others, he was still just a kind-hearted nine-year-old boy.
Since the autumn festival, Maya had spoken much with Amna, and that had led him to this day.
The many experiences and realizations of the Fire Festival.
The awareness that he still knew nothing about “the world.”
And the desire to see with his own eyes that the royal capital truly existed.
Amna had listened carefully to each of Maya’s words.
She did not say much, but she made sure to tell him this: going “outside” was far more difficult than Maya imagined.
Neither Amna nor Maya himself knew how deeply a nine-year-old could truly understand that.
And yet, Amna did not stop Maya from leaving.
From then until today, while continuing their ordinary life, Amna would sometimes give Maya “teachings.”
It was not the same as the bedtime storytelling a grandmother tells her grandchild, and Maya understood that.
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Yet in every word Amna spoke to him, he could feel the warmth of her affection.
On the day of his departure, Maya’s belongings were few.
But both Amna and Maya carried something much greater within their hearts, and they each stood in their own place.
Once the packing was complete, the group mounted the backs of the Elba.
The great beasts twitched their long ears as cloth-wrapped bundles and wooden crates were tightly secured to their backs.
When Serio saw that Maya had finally settled onto the Elba’s back, he signaled to Fael, the leader, and his assistant Baleon.
Baleon, seated on the lead Elba, lifted a bell high and rang it loudly.
The clear tone pierced the winter air, and the Elbas’ low breaths echoed through the valley in reply.
And then, the caravan began to move, slowly forward.
The road connecting the village to the “outside” crossed the Dogs‘ Valley, then led deeper into a wooded ravine, where only a single animal trail wound through.
Of course, Maya had never once been there, nor had he known until just now that such a path even led outside.
Rocked by the Elbas’ steady gait, the caravan made its way from the center of the village to its edge.
By then, many villagers had come out of their houses, following behind to see them off.
The children seemed ready to follow the caravan forever, but the adults stopped them, saying “Just a little further,” and so they came only this far.
Maya glanced back now and then, searching for Amna.
Amna was walking behind the children, alongside the adults.
At last, beyond this point, they would leave the village boundaries and enter the mountain path toward the Dogs‘ Valley.
The villagers, children among them, stopped at the boundary, watching the caravan go with reluctant eyes.
To their calls of farewell, Maya waved his hand again and again.
As the figures of the villagers grew smaller, Maya felt the urge again and again to leap from the Elba’s back and run home.
But each time, he forced himself to face forward, gripping tightly the leather straps binding him to the beast’s back.
“It was I who chose this journey.”
Over and over, he reminded himself.
Suddenly, Serio, riding on the same Elba, spoke.
“Hey… are you sure about this?”
Startled, Maya answered.
“About what?”
“I mean, about really leaving this place,” Serio asked him.
“Yes. I decided it myself,”
Maya replied, clutching the straps tightly once more.
Serio had noticed Maya’s repeated gesture and had been concerned.
Then he said:
“Maya, when I first joined this caravan as an apprentice, I felt just like you do now. That’s why I’ll say this plainly—are you truly sure about this?”
Maya closed his eyes, lowered his head, and nodded many times.
As if to cast off his weakness.
It was then—
“Maya!”
Amna’s sharp, carrying voice rang through the valley.
“You and I are always together!!”
That fierce yet warm cry of Amna’s echoed through the valley and filled Maya’s entire being.
To keep Maya from accidentally falling, Serio untied the rope binding their waists together and gave Maya a light pat on the back.
In response to Serio’s silent signal, Maya lifted his face, gave a great nod, and leapt from the Elba’s back.
His feet hit the ground, and he sprinted with all his might.
Toward Amna.
Amna too began to walk toward Maya.
Maya rushed to her and threw his arms around her with all his strength.
Amna said nothing, but embraced him in return.
Then Maya said quietly:
“I’ll be… alright.”
And Amna answered:
“Yes. I believe you.”
It felt as though the quiet sound of their heartbeats echoed through the still valley.
With winter drawing near, even the waterside birds with their beautiful blue feathers—who had been hunting along the river now running low—seemed to pause, as if watching over the moment of their parting.
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AI disclosure: I am a non-native English writer and have used AI for partial translation and light editing. No AI-generated prose.
