Desert. Sand. And his own smile.
Poyraz was on his knees, an uncontainable grin on his face. 'Get up,' he told himself. 'This is my dream. Get up.' His body didn't obey.
His mouth opened, something hot rose up from inside—blood, falling onto the hot sand like a crimson stain. A red mist began to steam off the sand.
And again he smiled.
He hadn't chosen this.
"Ahh—"
When he opened his eyes he was looking at wooden beams. His back was drenched, his heart hammering at his chest. The old, familiar village house. Safe.
"A nightmare," he murmured. But the word sat wrong in his mouth.
For the last two days he'd been having the same nightmare.
In some desert-like place he'd smile and vomit blood. Then he'd wake up.
But what struck him as strange wasn't having a nightmare. It was being unable to control his dream.
For some reason he couldn't name, for as long as he could remember he'd been conscious in his dreams—he could even control them.
He couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a dream he couldn't control.
For two days now, every night the same desert. The same smile. And for the first time, the body wouldn't obey him.
Maybe he should have been afraid. But what filled him wasn't fear.
He wanted to know what had changed.
As he thought about his dream he slowly rose from his bed. He looked at the beds beside him; they were empty.
'Tunay must already be awake.'
He walked over to the window. He watched the surroundings. Life in the Village of the Exiled had long since begun.
From afar the ring of hammer on iron echoed.
Heavy murmurs came from the inn.
He stretched, took the newly given clothes from the cupboard, and changed out of what he was wearing.
These medieval clothes weren't comfortable. He'd have preferred his usual trousers and t-shirt. But there was nothing he could do.
As he walked toward the inn, he thought.
For a week there'd been nothing but training—breathing, memorization, meditation, and since yesterday, magic.
He hadn't expected magic to hurt. First pushing the Yelvi into his torso, then turning it in the shapes he'd memorized; each shape resisted more than the last, burning between his bones like a wire pulled taut.
Togan's only answer had been "Get used to it."
Getting used to it. He'd started to hate that phrase.
When Poyraz reached the door of the inn, the noise and the smell of food inside hit his face. This intense discipline that had been going on for a week was starting to become a hard burden for his mind to bear. At least living this way was better than living on the streets.
At one of the tables he saw that Tunay, Esen, and Aylin had already taken their places.
"You finally managed to wake up," said Tunay, devouring the food on his plate with appetite. "Were you planning to spend your vacation sleeping?"
Poyraz sank down beside Tunay and took a spoonful of the food in the wooden bowl in front of him. The taste wasn't bad, but the metallic taste in his mouth just wouldn't go away.
Esen asked, "Are you okay? Did you have the nightmare again?"
"Yeah, the same nightmare again. It's bothering me."
"Forget it. Don't let it get to you." Esen tried to comfort Poyraz.
"Anyway, what are you all planning to do on this limited vacation of ours?" Poyraz asked.
"Yavuz, Sedef, and I are going to a hidden grove with Mira and Erya. They say there are all kinds of strange plants there."
'Mira and Erya?' Poyraz couldn't place them for a moment. Then he remembered they were the women who looked after the inn and the garden.
"Sedef? Did the Sezi group come back?" The voice was Aylin's.
"No, they haven't come yet. They'll be here in a few hours."
"What are you going to do, Tunay?"
Tunay thought for a moment about Poyraz's question, then answered.
"I told the old man I want to take martial arts training. He's going to teach me a few things."
"You're going to spend your precious 'vacation' working?" Poyraz laughed.
"There's nothing else to do. No books to read, no fun activity, nothing here." Tunay blew out a breath, then, "What are you going to do?"
"Don't know, I'll probably hang out with Hak," said Poyraz.
"Still sad?" Esen smirked. "Three days, three pages. Aylin and Tunay finished it in a day and a half."
"Not everyone's a memorization monster like those two," Poyraz grumbled.
"Anyway, as the winner, Lady Aylin, what are your orders?" said Tunay.
The day they'd made the bet, they'd agreed that the losers would carry out one wish of the winner. They'd settled on this because in this alien world they had nothing left of any material value.
Aylin brought her hand to her chin and thought for a few seconds.
"I don't know, I'll say when it comes to me."
"As you wish, my lady," Tunay answered in a mocking tone.
After a few giggles and some chatter, the others left one by one. Poyraz went on eating his food.
The inn was empty; it felt strange.
The silence was unsettling.
When he finished eating he went outside. The first thing he did was shield his eyes with his hand. The intense sunlight dazzled him. He started toward the square with his eyes squinted.
Yavuz and Esen were talking in a corner. The girl couldn't stay still, constantly running about.
'Too energetic,' he sighed.
To him, Esen was the one who'd adapted to this place the most. She listened to every magic lesson with seriousness. Unlike Poyraz, she was closer to learning her first spell.
He looked to the other side. He saw Hazar. Beside him were Sevda and Garrun. Sevda was showing Hazar something with the sword in her hand. Garrun was explaining something.
But for some reason Hazar's face was grim. As if his mind were somewhere else.
Poyraz sat down beneath a tree. He leaned his back against it and closed his eyes. As the sweet warmth of the wind played on his cheeks and the leaves rustled faintly and sweetly, he was quickly lulled to sleep.
After a while a hand woke him from his short nap. Poyraz opened his eyes.
Hak stood before him.
"Wake up," he said.
"Welcome back. How did your training go?" he said with a smile, happy deep down.
"Mysterious and senseless. Let's go eat. I'll tell you while we eat."
"But I just ate."
At Poyraz's answer Hak shot him a hard look.
"Okay, okay, let's go." Poyraz had to let it slide.
"Esen, don't run!" Yavuz had to shout. Esen was going far too far ahead.
"But this place is so beautiful. Look at those trees, those flowers. This is the first time I've seen anything like it since I got here."
She was right. At first Yavuz hadn't wanted to come, but now he was glad he had.
Yavuz looked into the distance.
They were inside an enormous cave. It resembled the valley they'd entered on the first day. Only it was a little more alive, a little more peaceful.
There were lush green trees that didn't seem to belong to the Ruined Lands. Some bore fruit, some had pleasant white flowers in bloom.
Unlike the filthy soil outside, the ground was full of all sorts of grasses and flowers.
"So beautiful…" Yavuz heard Sedef's low voice behind him.
"Right? I'm glad we came." Esen went on talking as she ran.
Noticing that what they said wasn't getting much of a response, Yavuz slowed his pace. He listened to the faint breeze inside the cave, drew in the scent of the flowers.
He looked behind him. Mira and Erya, who were usually at the inn back in the village, were slowly making their way along, gathering plants. Now and then they'd poke at the tree branches with the sticks in their hands and collect the fruit that fell.
At the very back was the old woman who taught Sedef and the others the arts of reverie. The old woman had made preparations with Mira and Erya a few days in advance to come here and gather certain plants.
And Esen, who somehow knew about it, had insisted on coming along; the old woman, unable to withstand her pleas, had agreed.
'And on top of that she forced me and Sedef to come too.' Yavuz sighed as he thought it.
At least he felt easier with the old woman there. This barren and disgusting place frightened him.
He didn't think he could do anything even if those insect-animals came.
And that shadow? There was nothing he could do against it.
As he thought this, he looked at the rusty sword beside him.
Yavuz felt like this rusty sword: useless…
When he noticed the gap between him and the others growing too wide, he sat down on a rock. He drove his sword into the ground and went on watching the distance.
He closed his eyes. The scent of flowers, the distant sound of water, the rustle of leaves… For a moment he forgot the Ruined Lands, the rusty sword, and the fear. This place was like a garden back on Earth—that one tree in the schoolyard, the potted plants in front of their house.
He didn't want to open his eyes. If he opened them he'd remember this place wasn't real.
Still, it was beautiful. That something beautiful could exist even in this cursed world… gave him a timid hope he couldn't explain.
While he was lost in those thoughts he heard approaching footsteps. Reluctantly he opened his eyes. He'd been woken from his lovely dream.
The approaching old woman, Miren, called out:
"Let's take a short break here. We've got a few tiring tasks ahead."
The little group opened the baskets they were carrying. Some held food, some held pots and dishes.
Miren took out a cloth from one and spread it.
"Come on, sit down," she said.
'Did we come for a picnic?' Yavuz couldn't help but sigh.