Kepa stood at the crossroads and looked out over the canopy. The sun was high, the sky was clear. Shadows darted across the canopy as a hawk glided lazily overhead, finding warm currents to lift it towards the scrublands. Kepa shook the knapsack off his shoulder and took out a canister. He gave it an experimental shake, and frowned. The news he had heard about the city had distracted him for most of the journey and he had forgotten to refill the water when he passed the river earlier that morning. Distraction was a dangerous preoccupation in this part of the world; he had to focus.
Turning his back to the forest, he moved towards the Burnt City.
The Burnt City, that’s what it was known as now. Nobody questioned it, not really, that’s what it was; a city that had burned. That fact had meant many things, including emptying the road he now walked on of its daily thoroughfare of people traveling to and from the Capital. It had provided a handy income for wandering musicians or traders, and once in the forest section, Kepa thought momentarily wistful, there was plenty of opportunity for young lovers to have some time alone, away from the crowds.
But even now, so far after the event, there was no proper explanation as to how it had actually happened. Of the people who had escaped, no two had the same story to tell – some say it was bandits, others that it was rebels purging the city, a revolt of the lower classes, an enemy invasion, the end of days…Nobody knew for certain and the tales kept twisting and turning, changing with each new teller.
There was only one thing everyone could agree on: nobody who stayed behind had survived.
What most also knew but didn’t say aloud was that nobody was allowed to return. Although nobody knew why or by whose orders.
Digging in his trouser pocket, Kepa took out a crumpled piece of paper. He carefully unraveled it. Although old, crumpled and smudged there were still some legible words:
****************** disaster ****************** the fire from the ground **********captured, **************** *********** flames
It was the only piece of paperwork to escape the city, an official document by the texture of the paper. It was enough to finally spur him on towards the charred remains of the Burnt City.