Across the Clawed Barrens

The beasts beyond the veil whickered, moaned and trailed their quarry across the floodplain, eager for the shield to break.

Five-year-old Juto clung to Mariah’s hipbone near the edge of the dome, anxious. His eyes flitted from one aberration to the next. They were caked in green twilight. “Mama, what if they –“

“They cannot. Never. They can only try, and fail.” She'd seen her fair share of shield breaks. She knew death. This was a necessary lie.

“Not true,” replied an eavesdropping traveler, fast-stepping the moist loam. His name was Lukas. He’d introduced himself to another woman traveling in the caravan earlier. His uncomfortable advances forced his reassignment opposite her in their group. “If our delightful Aurator fails, the curtain falls, and the beasts have their meal.”

As if in reply, a bipedal bear-like aberration that bobbled on its haunches like a behemoth toddler distended its jaw and shrieked like a banshee.

Mariah felt the cry run down her spine. She forced herself to remain tall. Her son could never see her fear.

“But that won’t happen, Mama? Right?”

“Right, my dear.” Mariah lifted Juto against herself. “This man is base. He speaks unnecessarily.”

Juto looked at the Aurator. She was perhaps twelve, with bouncing locks of golden hair tinged green by the pale aurora above. All Aurators had a color to their protective aura; her veil was the gold of a Kindness Aurator. Tiny, spark-like flecks emanated a lightless dome around her. Beneath the dome, the beasts could not approach. They otherwise walked in twilight; adding torches would attract more.

Juto did not know her name; this was not allowed. The four-person guard flanking her wore chainmail. It jingled pleasantly, when you could hear it over the snarling creatures.

The night wore on, and grew thin. Soon, a vermilion sun would attract more beasts; the ones who could not see as well in the dim would emerge. The more beasts there were, the more likely an Aurator could lose focus and falter. Mariah knew this. Thanks to Lukas, now Juto knew it, too.

A magnetic, aggressive tension grew between Mariah and Lukas. She could hear his footsteps somewhere close behind. She desired to cross the veil with Juto, and take a new place on the opposite side. Alas, they traveled with a full company, and placement was assigned; there was nowhere to go.

When Mariah saw her boy squinting east behind them the emerging day, she squeezed his shoulder. “We’re almost to the next town. Can you walk?”

"Yes, mama."

She set him down.

“What is our next Aurator mama?” Juto asked, reaching out and taking her hand.

“Greed, little man,” replied Lukas, sniffling and readjusting his rucksack. “Best have a tribute. This one’s a real dragon. You’ll see his wealth-chamber. S’how he keeps his aura so strong. I hear they’re even building out on his perimeter. That’s the power of real faith.”

Mariah remained silent.

“Is he right, mama?”

“Yes.” She squeezed his shoulder, trying to will her son into silence.

“Can’t we stay here? With the Kindness Aurator?”

“We’d travel for always if we did. And we’d soon be broke.”

“Can’t you be a seamstress for her? And for other travelers?”

“My work requires stillness, sweet child.”

“And don’t forget,” added an amused Lukas. You could hear the smile in his voice. And he was loud. Too loud. “The Aurators of virtue, like our Kindness here, they keep the beasts back in a small area. The Aurators of sin keep still and settle down. They’re the big veils. S’long as they’re happy. Better life for you, eh, lass?”

Mariah’s blood boiled. Juto was a good boy. He didn’t need to hear this. She did not turn back, nor did she acknowledge the man. She wouldn’t. She hoped there would punishment for him in the upcoming Greed veil.

“A thing with pretty hair like yours, bet the Aurator of Lust last town had a proper field day with you.” He laughed. It was a cruel, stilted thing.

She never had me, Mariah thought. “We didn’t stay – I don’t – I don’t owe you an explanation –“ Mariah’s breath fell from her. I offered her nothing. I told her as such. I worked for her. But she kicked us out anyhow. I thought we'd be safe. Tears fell from Mariah’s cheeks.

The Aurator thrived on the happiness of those around her. Safely going from one place to the next was an easy way to bring relief to people, and thus, joy. She – along with most traveling Aurators – did not speak to those she escorted. The woman with the boy was in pain. The Aurator stole a glance. She felt that pain. She absorbed it.

Pity is a dangerous thing – it makes the mind drift. So, her aura began to shrink.

The assembly included the Aurator, her four guards, and two-dozen persons. All stood within the 20-foot radius of the Aurator’s veil; her golden will-o-wisps. When her energy retracted, the beasts could sense the change and attacked the periphery.

A moss-covered tortoise with no eyes charged with frightening speed. It extended its neck an improbable distance and clamped onto a man’s kneecap, crushing it like an apple. He opened his mouth to scream and a scaled ferret with an exposed spine climbed all the way in, bulging his neck and ending him with a shudder before he fell to the earth.

A loping vulture with shredded wings leaped onto a pack mule’s neck and bit deep. The bear attacked its rear, peeling its flesh while it wailed.

The other stragglers collapsed inward, shoving for the center. Some dropped their belongings. The guards drew their weapons and bellowed orders to keep back from the Aurator.

Still, the mare’s tails of light which made the aura continued to retract. The radius was now half its previous size.

Another man was shoved – Juto thought he saw Lukas do it – so that his hand flailed beyond the aura.

Before he could pull it back, a colossal snake clasped the hand and yanked, tossing him beyond the aura. He was swarmed by all manner of vermin and silenced.

“You!” Shouted one of the guards. Juto couldn’t see who. “I’ll put you down myself!”

”No,” spoke the Aurator. Her voice was simultaneously three voices; hers, her power’s, and something else. “He lives. We must all live.”

A sense of calm and hush fell over the crowd. The clamor abated. In a slow, steady push, the aura held fast. Beasts close to the gossamer bulwark grew still. The only sound beyond the Aurator’s steady breathing was the guttural, distant argument of two large beasts dueling over a loose limb.

Slowly, the aura grew again. The beasts at its perimeter scrabbled back. The guards gently pressed the crowd outward, realigning the caravan around the Aurator. More than one shot a look at Lukas, and even at Juto. Silence was not law when traveling with an Aurator, but conversation was frowned upon.

And for good reasons.

One of the guards broke formation and stepped over. He was older; a veteran. He wore a beard of some dark shade, with a patch of snow-white down his chin. In the glinting light, he was sweating beneath his helmet, which covered the bridge of his nose. He kneeled down to Juto. “Hello,” he said softly. “I am Camalin. What is your name?”

Juto clung to Mariah’s hip-bone. “Juto.”

“Well, Juto. I would like to ask of you a favor. Would that be okay?”

Juto nodded.

Camalin looked up at Mariah, then back down. He had kind eyes. “This is your mother, yes?”

Juto nodded.

“That makes you her son, yes?”

Juto nodded.

“You can keep a secret, yes?”

Juto nodded.

Camalin leaned in and whispered. “I’m somebody’s son, too. We all are sons and daughters. But our Aurator? She is my daughter. She is very sweet. Very kind. Will you show her how kind you can be?”

“Yes,” Juto whispered.

“Don’t speak again. Not another word. Not until we’re in the next veil.” Camalin leaned back.

Before he rose, Juto saw his eyes. They were pitch-black with anger. Juto’s blood ran cold. He swallowed.

Camalin blinked and returned to a contented state. He gave a slight and courteous bow to Mariah when he rose again. He then marched over to the man who started it all. He had crossed to the opposite side. Everyone faced forward, forced to stare a pack of wild dogs with bulbous growths on their backs. They rubbed against each other at the edge, whining.

Mariah squeezed Juto’s shoulder twice in rapid succession. That meant everything will be all right.

Juto chanced a look at Camalin. Lukas seemed deflated by the discussion. Juto wondered if it was a crime to do what he did.

Then, Camalin returned to his place at his daughter’s side. The aura looked healthy once again. The Aurator took the first step. Her attending guards followed. So did everyone else.

They walked on for an hour. A crescent of amber emerged in the north. Mariah saw it first. It lanced the greenish boil of the landscape. She tapped Juto on his shoulder, and pointed it out.

Juto’s eyes widened. This was a beautiful thing he’d been waiting for. It was a Nirvana city; Lukas had been wrong. Juto knew, but wouldn’t dare correct an adult. The best Aurators were not sinful. A Nirvana city was where many powerful, virtuous Aurators lived, overlapping their shields. They built walls, and traveled freely within them. It was expensive to get in, so most people couldn’t. They were so powerful, they glowed.

That was the endgame. That’s what it was all for.

Juto looked back up at his mother and saw her determined gaze fixed on the city in the distance.

It was not to be. Not today. The light of the Nirvana city soon became blotted by the rising sun. The landscape would have been beautiful, if not for the newly-emerging horrors. Their long, twisted shadows were only half as haunting as the creatures themselves.

The large growths on the pack of wild dogs were a cascade of warts. Even the tips of their tails weren’t spared. The bear-like horror had stayed behind to feast, along with the snake and the turtle. A large pig with a distended belly dragged itself along the ground; it left a trail of bile in its wake. Innumerable insects and rodents with all manner of pestilence trailed them, too.

They crested a small hillock, and their destination appeared below. A half-bowl valley along a weak river was bathed in a sickly, green nimbus. A series of shacks marked its bounds, with a large church at the center of the emanation. Its windows were glazed all colors, brightened by lamps within. Around it, the largest buildings stood, but they, too, left something to be desired. Few beasts walked its perimeter.

In the distance, a pink globe moved off toward a forest in the distance, flanked by a few beasts. Mariah spotted wagons among the group: a supplier’s caravan. So, there was some organization here. This would be far from the worst place Mariah and Juto had been forced to call home, even if temporarily. The pink aura was from an Aurator of Chastity.

Down the hill they went, ignoring the beasts as well as they could. The Aurator held fast. Soon they were just beyond city limits, where a small contingent of armed and armored men halted them. As the Aurator of Kindness’s golden veil intersected with the viridian haze of Greed, it was absorbed.

“We’ll see your papers before you enter Mamner’s domain.”

Juto looked up at Mariah, and she shook her head. It was quite uncommon to know the name of the Aurator. It was not an issue worth breaching. They took their place in a steady line.

A routine Juto knew well followed: the questions were always the same. What do you do? Were you invited? How long will you be staying? Do you have dependents? What do they do? Always the same. Juto would be sweeping out a chimney by day’s end.

They crossed the veil. Juto looked back at Camalin, and his daughter. They were the last to enter, but would be first to the church, escorted by the entire contingent of guards. They would pay tribute to Mamner before everyone else. There was no need to actually keep guards on the perimeter; where would criminals go? The wildlands beyond the veil?

“Let’s go find something to eat, my sweet boy.” Mariah breathed a subtle sigh of relief. They’d made it. She was safe. She looked up through their new, green aegis, and smiled. She hoped Juto’s father was up there, smiling back.

“Okay, mama.”

“I’m sure you have questions.”

“No, mama.”

Juto’s words stung Mariah. Tonight was his first taste of death. She spent last hour rehearsing answers. Her son was growing quickly. Children had to grow quickly in this rotting world.

In a way, that terrified her most of all.