I awoke the next morning to the light of the sunrise.

Last night I had wept for Kara’s loss in front of the remains of the Side Branch for hours, finally succumbing to my exhaustion right there and then as I fell asleep crumpled on the ground.

From such an uncomfortable position getting up was hard, but I did it anyway. I still had things to do after all.

I breathed in the cool morning air as I made myself upright. I looked over my wounds and when I felt prepared for the next part of my journey, took one last look at where I had spent the last ten years of my life, where I had felt safe, learnt much and made a most dear friend.

In that moment I murmured my last goodbye, turned away, and never looked back again.

As I left, raw in every way there is, I couldn’t help but contemplate all that I had lost ever since I arrived here in Calzyn. I had lost my home, my family, my friends, my future, Elde… and now Kara.

Elde’s passing… It wasn't the same kind of grief that I felt today but regardless, Kara’s death ripped through me deeply, another wound once again carved into my heart I must bear.

As I went forward, my eyes scanned the wasteland that I now walked through, the remains of the city of Millawen. I shuffled through the devastation and bleakness of it all, but instead of seeing the misery in front of me my mind revisited the memories I had of Kara through the years, the friendship we had shared together. She was like an aunt to me in some ways, but closer and more sincere than any of the ones I had had in the past.

I walked on. The hours passed as the Sun rose through the sky as the mess I wadded through began to stink and fume under the heat of the Summer Sun, it bearing down on everything.

For hours this went on and by the time I had arrived at my destination, though it was sad to think, I had come to terms with Kara’s death. I had already acknowledged its eventuality for a long time beforehand and prepared myself accordingly for it. It was only the abruptness of the tragedy that was her end that made it a harder pill to swallow.

My destination, as it just so happens, was a truly miraculous place. Even with all the storm’s fury, even with the flooding and icy meteors, and even with the final tsunami that came at the city as the Underfrost met its end… my warehouse was somewhat still standing.

Just like every time before, the outskirts had managed to barely escape most of the damage.

It wasn’t pretty of course, surrounding it were mounds of mud littered with pieces of wood and stone poking up all around. However, except for one and half of the walls collapsing, it was still unbelievably standing upright. A similar state half of the other buildings along the city’s outskirts I had observed on the way over here held.

I went inside. I had lost the key in the midst of everything that had happened but with one of the walls collapsed as it was, it was easy enough to manoeuvre a way inside.

My cattle were dead, their corpses my first discovery as I made my way into the mess. Mud was heaped and spread all over the floor and other flotsam and rubbish had floated in, settled and made themselves at home. But aside from the animals bodies, everything was in a somewhat relatively good condition.

I made a sweep with my eyes over everything before I hobbled over to my waggon. Some water had gotten in and messed it up a bit but the piled in crates and sacks with all my supplies and equipment remained unscathed luckily enough. And so after confirming the state of my belongings, I started focusing on my own wellbeing.

I ate some grains and some dried jerky and took a few gulps of water from my waterskin, taking care of the immediate needs before moving my attention to the absolute mess that was the entirety of my body.

To start off with, I poured alcohol and antiseptic over my broken ankle before setting it in place with a splint and then bandaging the whole foot up as best I could. Next, I set my fingers and collarbone into place, then applied antiseptic to the most major of my lacerations before bandaging myself up like a mummy as best I could.

Exhausted afterward, I laid down to rest for a while before sorting through all the other stuff left for me to do.

I woke up at noon the next day.

It was only natural I suppose, given my condition. So, repeating yesterday, I ate and rehydrated before doing the best I could do about tending to my injuries again, after which I once more settled down to rest and recover.

Only after a week had passed had my injuries healed enough that I considered leaving my shelter and venturing into the wider world, now feeling strong enough to get moving and get out the city.

My animals were dead and stinking up the place, a difficult thing to live with for the week, but they were only just the ones I had delivered here to the warehouse. The rest were reserved for me at a farm further inland that should have been unaffected by the monster wave, if I even still have any manner of luck leftover after my already miraculous survival.

So it was that on the eighth day of living in a falling apart warehouse, of Kara being dead, of the calamitous monster wave hitting the city, I ventured out into the country.

I spent the next five days on the road, which would normally have taken me two going at a leisurely pace. But at the end of my journey I had made it to the farm where my livestock was being housed and awaiting my pickup, still alive and healthy.

Making it in the dead of the night, the farms’ owner graciously took me in and cared for me despite my abrupt lateness, if only so I could answer his obviously burning questions in the morning. The old man, Cobba, had naturally felt the disturbance the week prior but had had no word on the happenings in the city after it passed. No one had gone by his farm in all the time since and he was too afraid to send anyone out to investigate. I explained to Cobba the next morning all that had happened and watched him grow pale and sickly throughout our little chat.

When it was over he naturally took a moment to absorb the shock of what I had told him, and in that moment and state that he was in, I shamelessly guilted him into helping me move my livestock to go back and pick up the rest of my belongings, only if so that he could see what I had described for himself.

Cobba agreed. Therefore at sunrise the next day me, Cobba, and some of his workers drove my cattle to the city to where we could pick up my belongings. Once there, except for me of course, all the men were struck dumb, on the edge of being catatonic as they saw for the first time the actual desolate picture I had painted for them, but could only in the face of it fully comprehend.

It was a bit different than how I left it though. The movements of the Coalition and the rest of the civilian survivors had congregated together in numbers that did surprise me. Quite a lot more than I would have expected had managed to survive, I confessed to myself as I looked at the thousands of weary and hurting huddled masses centred in the middle of the remains of the city.

A couple of Warriors intercepted us at the border and without pause basically stole half of my cattle for their own needs, what they said was for “the providence of the Coalition”, whatever that means.

I luckily still had enough to hook up to my carts and get out of there as quickly as possible before they stole any more, Cobba and his men were all more than eager to assist me after seeing the state of things.

Back on the road I negotiated a deal with Cobba to hire out his men to help me transport my cargo all the way to my new property. He agreed, but at a price that was almost completely blatant extortion.

Cobba was quick to see the hard times that were coming ahead, and so even though I could see that he was sympathetic to my plight, battering down the hatches for the hard times on the horizon was his highest priority at the moment, sympathy be damned.

A deal done and made, we got back to Cobba’s farm and picked up the rest of my livestock before spending the next twelve days moving along dirt roads through untamed country, until we all finally arrived at my new property.

Once there, Cobba helped set me up a bit before he shook my hand and wished me luck. Turning around the moment he and his men had done their job to head back to his land with no delay. That was fine by me though. We weren’t friends, and he had his own troubles to deal with in the aftermath of what had just happened, just the same as everyone else on this island most certainly did as well.

My land, as I stood and gazed out over it, was just how I remembered it. Exactly the same pretty much, hard to believe really. What I had recently experienced, the sheer devastation, not even making an impact all the way out here.

My small number of animals had been tied down with ropes so that they could move about but not wander off by Cobba and his men for me, so I only had to worry about putting up a tent for the first day so I could settle in for what I planned to be the next few decades.

I had to rest first though. While on the road I had spent some time thinking. Thinking of Kara, of Elde, and of all the other memories I no longer really thought about anymore, all in the quiet reflection that Cobba and his men had graciously afforded me.

It did me good. My skin returned to a normal colour even if all the scabs now covering me were irritating beyond belief. My bones too, though still broken, were aching less and less each day. Mostly though, the time gave me the chance to come to terms with my grief for Kara and my own regret from my actions that day as I reflected over my years in Mellawin while on the road, a life that was now definitively over.

From this fresh start, while still in recovery though, I spent the next few weeks sorting through everything I owned and all the future plans I had for my land when I completely healed up and got better. The animals, which approximately equate here to some cattle, chickens and sheep, were tied up but still well fed by the grass they moved about on and the buckets of water I carried over everyday from a closeby stream.

Besides that and a few other chores, I hobbled over my land looking at the trees, the open spaces, where the land rose and fell and where the water flowed as I started planning out the farm’s layout.

Where would I build a house for myself? Where would a barn go? Where best to plant my seeds? What trees and other vegetation had to be cleared? et cetera, et cetera.

And so time passed. I had no visitors or outside disturbance of any kind and that was fine by me, preferring the solitude with which I was more than well familiar with already and before I knew it, my bones and other wounds were healed enough that I deemed myself ready to go out and tame the wilderness.

With my tools and the help of my cattle, I chopped down trees and moved the trunks around to make a rough sort of fenced off paddock that was big enough to hold them all together, which also had a big enough pond in the middle to keep them all well watered. Leaving me free from having to keep making trips back and forth to the stream for fresh buckets of water.

Once that was sorted, the next thing I did was plan out my fields for my fruit and vegetable crops plus a few grains, beans and herbs I also had that would contribute to feeding me in the years to come.

I cut down trees and stored the wood as best I could, I cut up bushes, shrubs and whatever other plants and grasses I came across as I tilled the land. Following that I enlisted my cattle to help me use my plough to rake through the soil, uproot tree stumps and move big rocks, a hard task as any I’ve done before. After all of which was done I went forward with planting the Winter crop for the coming season.

That achieved, I then spent the rest of the Autumn building myself a shack to ward off the coming snows, the best that I could construct anyway. Obviously it was very ramshackle but it was waterproof enough. I had made sure of it as it was almost completely sealed besides the door in the front and the small fireplace and chimney I built at the back.

By the time all of this was done, Winter was in its opening stages and the days were getting wetter and colder, a sombre sort of reminder of what had only just occurred months earlier.

I recognised the notion, and left it where it was. My months here had been tough and tiring, yet peaceful, and I was now finally beginning to slip into the farming lifestyle as it were.

How my life and the years ahead of me will turn out at this point, I don’t know.

…time will tell.