From the world that came before

by Taurenelle

The mystics spoke of trains; long, beastly things that once carried people and cargo from distant lands. Grandfather didn’t believe in that kind of nonsense, but Uncle Jamir thought the ruins they found on the hunt were somehow related. Thick strips of parallel bars, far enough apart for a child to lie down between, stretched from the start of the river to beyond the plains, where Kama was told never to go. 

“I bet if we follow this,” Jamir said, “we can see one. Maybe it’s filled with incredible things. Things the village could use.”

“It will lead you to your death, more like. That’s probably what these bars were used for; shackling slaves or enemies to them as they marched to their doom.” Grandfather offered, sharpening his spear. “It’s best we leave it be and catch ourselves some dinner.”

Kama shared her uncle’s sense of adventure. Whatever world came before them was filled with wonders that unearthed themselves from time to time. Children her age would often dig up strange rectangular blocks; an image of a piece of fruit on one side, a cracked surface on the other. Kama imagined they were for sport, envisioning strong men hurling them long distances for glory. Still, others had discovered gigantic birds filled with chairs and clothing made of material that stretched and never tore. So, trains didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.

Their hunt yielded nothing more than a few squirrels, and the three went to sleep hungry.

Jamir woke her up before the sun, and more importantly, before her grandfather. “Let’s go,” he whispered. “Let’s see where the ruins take us.”

The flatlands gave way to rolling hills and thick forests, yet the trail continued, no matter how many vines wrapped themselves around its rusted rods. Kama trekked through deep streams, shallow marshes, and relentless overgrowth, stopping only to kill the occasional frog and store it for later. But as the midday sun began its descent, its rays reflected off something large in the distance.

A smile spread across Jamir’s face. “I told you they were real,” he said, admiring the overturned locomotive.

Even the most forceful of their rocks couldn’t shatter its windows, but they found a small opening through which Kama was able to squeeze. Unkempt branches obscured most of the light, but what little there was unveiled her disappointment; no tools or building materials. Just a single diamond-shaped piece of fabric with miles of string attached to its base.

She clung to it as they made their silent journey back to her grandfather. When a gust of wind barrelled through the fields and stole it away from her, she grabbed its string as hard as she could. Kama watched as it danced in the sky and flew higher than the birds. It seemed to have no purpose but to make her smile, and she was filled with wonder and envy.

How lucky was the world that came before? she thought, where happiness came so easily.