Grandmother Zosime sat cross-legged on a worn red rug, a shawl of bright blue loose around her. She wore her hair in a long braid that curled around her shoulders like an albino python. The wrinkles of a smile arranged themselves across her face, already as lined as the skin of a dried date, when we sat down. “Ioudas says you came from Seisa.” Even reedy with age, her voice carried strength in every syllable. “You must have fought long and hard there.” 

I looked down at the scars across my knuckles from the endless street fights that came before the war. “We did, but they demolished our districts into dust.” 

Zosime pulled out a long clay pipe. “We heard about the bombing. Typical of them.” She shook her head slightly. “We are lucky we have not suffered the same. I suppose once we push the garrisons out, they will turn that attention on us. Still, it is wiser to take things one step at a time and worry only about things you can change.” 

I handed my package of tobacco to Zosime. Even if it was a precious commodity to me, I wanted to give this woman a gift, a thanks for taking us in with such easy trust. 

She smiled at me and took a large pinch, bringing it to her nose and inhaling the scent. “You have good taste. Thank you. We share and share alike here. You'll fit right in.” 

I felt a small glow of warmth in my chest at that pronouncement. “What is the situation here, Grandmother?” Zosime insisted we call her by the familial word rather than a more formal greeting. She wasn’t a woman who stood on ceremony and knew how to make people comfortable.

“They are attacking the northern villages. Several have burned. Our militias have stopped them from crossing the Silver Branch and are gathering for a counterattack. You would be welcome to join them. The fight could always use a few more dedicated souls.”

Thaïs nodded. “We know how to use rifles and a few other things. I’m sure we could help.” 

“This is good.” Zosime considered something as she tamped the tobacco down into her pipe with a touch of care. “I should explain our way for you. Things here are…fluid. The elders help settle quarrels and give advice, but the young have run most of the fighting. Always, we talk and listen. No one is above anyone else.” 

“But someone has to be in charge,” Thaïs murmured.

The old woman laughed. “I tell you what to plant, when, and where. How to compost, how to harvest, how to tend to the soil. I carry the voice of the village to the other villages when we need to. Achim tells how to build. Bailos knows how to tend to animals. Enyo teaches everything there is to know of weaving and everyone knows Xene is the best at cooking. Rhea commands when a medic or a midwife is needed. On and on I could go. Everyone has the knowledge of something and that is when their voice needs to be lifted. This is how things follow. This is how Zelen has always been. This makes it different from the men with iron hands who crush the life out of the people.” 

“The barricades in Seisa were the same way, everyone in it together.” I remembered deferring to Sostrate often, but also to the others who were more experienced or skilled than I was. Meliton knew how to construct the best barricades. Isidoros had been a fine medic and knew how best to handle someone with pepper spray in their eyes. “That sounds good to me.” 

Zosime smiled and puffed on her pipe. “What about you, Thaïs?”

Thaïs shrugged. “I don’t understand it, but I’ll listen. Maybe it’ll be clearer in time.”

“A fair answer. Not all of us are the radical sort. People come to the valley looking for a better chance at a better life.” Zosime’s tone grew firmer. “I will say this: there are Iéro families in the valley. Some have lived here for generations, others are new arrivals fleeing the war. They are not to be treated any differently than Lathraí. Everyone who lives in the valley are our people. Once a person’s tears and sweat strike the soil, they are part of Zelen forever.”

I nodded. That would be difficult for a while, particularly for the fighters from Seisa so used to Iéro polizí trying to bash their skulls in, but even then things had been more complicated. 

Thaïs didn’t seem bothered by that stipulation. “People are people. If they aren’t hurting me, I don’t mind them.”

Zosime nodded thoughtfully. “Have you seen around the village?” 

I shook my head. “Not yet. Semele brought us straight here.”

“That girl.” Zosime seemed half exasperated, half amused. “The least she could have done was introduce you to your new home.” 

“The others are settling in already,” Thaïs said. “Brygos and Zita were figuring out where everyone will stay and how much everyone can contribute.” 

Zosime creaked to her feet with the help of a cane. “We appreciate you coming as hard workers and knowledgeable people, fighters or no. There is always something that needs doing and with the war on, we were strained for people.” 

Thaïs fell in step beside the old woman as she led the way outside. “Is all of Zelen stretched so thin?” 

“With the refugees coming, it’s getting better, but we still hurt from all the young people joining the People’s Army.” 

I followed close to their heels, the tension in my shoulders finally easing after months of carrying it with me. The village wove into the greenery, orchards and plots of gardens surrounding every house. Dirt roads linked buildings and the minor branch of the River Sylh that irrigated the fields here was audible nearby, burbling through the swaying reeds. The air smelled of earth and growing things, compost and animals. A whistling man herded a small group of goats down the streets past us, waving in greeting as he carried his crook staff over one shoulder. A few brown tabby cats lounged in the sun, taking a break from their duties as mousers. 

The buildings were stone with red-tiled roofs, no doubt supported by wooden beams inside. A few older men were busy repairing the well at the center of town, replacing an old worn rope and the aged bucket spattered with rust stains. 

The pace of life here seemed to crawl like a snail after living in Seisa, but it was far more comfortable and connected. I could understand why Ioudas and Semele were so dead set on protecting it, even young as they were. 

As if my thought had conjured her from thin air, Semele appeared out of the narrow path off to my left that led towards the north. She wore her rifle across her back, like many of the people working in the orchards or fields. Weapons were everywhere, even if some were so old they were practically fossilized. Priority for newer arms clearly went to the people fighting at the edges of controlled territory. “There you are, Karsa. I have something for you and Thaïs.”

I turned to face her and she held out an indigo armband. I could see the initials for the People’s Army painted on it in white. I took it without a second thought, slipping it on. It fit well, particularly with my shirt sleeves rolled up to keep it in place. It was the closest thing they had to a uniform right now, though more and more camouflage was being liberated every day, according to Ioudas. “Thank you, Semele.” 

She beamed at me as she handed Thaïs hers, though the expression didn’t last too long. I assumed it was thoughts of the war itself that clouded the enthusiasm in her expression. “The fighting’s getting bad in the north. We could really use you.”

I wasn’t surprised. The burning of northern villages was on everyone’s lips when we arrived. “Then we should head that way while we still have daylight.”

Arthritic fingers tugged at my sleeve. “Be careful, Karsa.” Zosime’s warning was gentle and heartfelt at the same time. “Your eyes say you have been through much already.” 

I shrugged. “Then what is more?” I looked over at Thaïs, who seemed lost in contemplation. “Are you going to stay?” 

The question snapped her out of her thoughts. “I’m going with you.”

“Come on,” Semele said, waving for us to follow. “We can get there by nightfall.” 

“Thank you for everything, Grandmother,” Thaïs said, bowing her head respectfully before following us towards a battered jeep. It looked like it was once a military vehicle, but had been used for hauling crops and animals for years. 

Semele hopped into the driver’s seat, leaving Thaïs and I to perch on the supplies in the back: ammo cans and mortars that could be assembled with ease in the field. “Where did these come from?” 

“The ammo is from the cache that used to be in the pass. Government before we pushed them out. You should have seen everyone’s face when we blew that door open. It was like finding a gold mine. The mortars and shells…there are some engineers who live down the road in Abraxí. You’d be amazed what you can make with enough good quality steel and a big machining shop. Plenty of people still remember how to make bombs and shells after the last war, including Amosis and Eurydike. They were chemists before the war.” 

It was strange how casually familiar Semele seemed with all this. She was still young, practically baby-faced as far as I was concerned. There wasn’t a trace of fear in her voice, even as we drew closer and closer to the fighting. Thunderous booms cracked the air like a storm of lightning, punctuated by flashes of fire in the distance. It took us almost an hour to reach a point where we could hear it clearly. Thaïs shuddered slightly at the first roar, but stilled when I put a hand on her shoulder. 

“They’ve started using white phosphorus. Ioudas says they’ll be using gas soon.” It was still said matter-of-factly, but now Semele’s hands tightened on the steering wheel nervously. “We need to get them out of the valley before they get resupplied.” 

“Aren’t there international laws about that?” Thaïs said, glancing over at me as if I could offer some comfort.

My jaw tightened. “You’re not supposed to carpet bomb civilians either,” I pointed out. “I don’t think they care at this point. Anything to win.” 

Semele shifted her grip on the steering wheel as she brought us into a turn. “Ioudas was hoping that means that other countries would intervene.”

Even as a literature student, I hadn’t been able to ignore politics. “Astera has a lot of powerful friends. Besides, we have nothing they’d want. No oil, no mineral wealth that isn’t already Astera’s…” I sighed. “We should be prepared to do this on our own.” 

Thaïs shook her head slightly. “There are people we could work with: the other militias, drug runners, arms dealers who work independently of countries, that kind of thing.” 

Semele looked disheartened even with the suggestions. “We don’t have enough money.”

“We have the richest growing soil in Astera. Fields of opium poppies would fund the war,” Thaïs said. 

Our guide worried at her lower lip with her teeth for a moment, weighing that. “You’ll have to talk to Grandmother about it once we have something stable in the north.” 

I could almost hear Thaïs’s clever mind in motion. “I will. It’s not the ideal path, but it would be better than nothing.”

The radio on the truck crackled to life as we neared the first artillery position, picking up a request for more ammunition. Semele turned obediently, following a rutted track up a steep hill. Waiting for us at the top was a dusty team of fighters, all of them in their late teens, if I had to guess. Tired eyes seemed to light up at our arrival and a pair of young women scrambled to help Thaïs and I out of the back so they could get to the ammo cans full of shells and pull out the tubing. 

“We can get another position going with this,” a young man said, hugging Semele in gratitude. Dark shadows ringed his eyes like bruises. He turned and eyed Thaïs and I. “You look fresh.” 

“They just joined,” Semele said brightly. “They came all the way from Seisa.” 

He held out a hand to me in greeting. “I’m Lysandros. It’s always good to meet someone willing to fight.” 

I shook his hand. “My name is Karsa. This is Thaïs. What can we do to help?”

Lysandros gestured out towards the clouds of smoke from burning fields and orchards. The nearest settlement was absolutely devastated, still burning with the bright fire of white phosphorus. “It’s dangerous, but we could really use some forward observers. With all the smoke, it’s hard to know where to hit and we don’t have the ammunition to shell empty positions.” 

“I think we can be your eyes,” Thaïs said, donning her confidence like armor again. 

“Have you used a map and compass before?” Lysandros asked. 

I shook my head. “You’ll have to show us. The fighting in Seisa was street to street.”

He slapped his hands together, looking around at the little group. “Everyone okay with getting some rest while I show these gals how to land-nav?” 

One of the young women flopped over dramatically. “How will we ever survive the boredom of sitting on our hands?” she said. “Sleep? The horror!”

There was laughter all around from the little group, an undeniable approval there. 

“Get some rest, everyone,” Lysandros said firmly. “Semele, you’d better report to the forces down low. We’ll help the newbies. Let us know if those bastards start another push.”

Semele threw the group a salute and returned to the jeep, leaving us with Lysandros for our first night as part of the People’s Army.