The golden tall grass swayed gently, tossing beams of light back at the sun. The orderly rows had just begun to drop the last grains, which sat lightly on top of the soil. Trees framed the farmland ensuring an effortlessly clean look that had not been designed by Sar, nor anyone she had ever spoken to. She moved quickly along the rows. She was still not accustomed to her lighter adult dress. The thin white cloth lacked the substance of her juvenile clothes and she found herself feeling uncomfortably revealed. A tightly bound net dragged behind her opening wide. It passed over the soil swallowing the seeds which had dropped that morning.
The whole process of sweeping the grains took her the better part of the morning, as it had every morning of the past several years. After finishing her Ritual of Gratitude she hauled the bag towards the small dwelling of her family that lay just off the edge of the field. Plopping herself down on the large rock outside she sorted through the small stones which were hidden amongst the grains. The tall grass could freely give its grain, but it never went far enough to clear the stones from the soil.
Above her on a low hanging branch sat a small flock of birds, each no bigger than Sar’s fist. They chirped in a tune which was famous among Sar’s people, but it failed to please her ear that morning. No grain would be given, and it was not a usual occurrence. They chirped furiously in hopes of reminding Sar of her duty. The melodic reminders only grated on Sar’s nerves further. She checked the door of the house, even thought she knew her family was in town helping father give away the grain. Then, she picked one small stone from the bag, whirled around, and sent it towards the branch. She told herself she had no real intention when she began, but quickly realized it was a lie. Never lie to yourself, Sar commanded.
The stone flew towards the flock. Her now fully grown arms had more strength then she needed. The sharp edge of the stone made firm contact with one of the birds knocking it off its branch. The bird fell to the ground making only the tiniest thud. Sar moved slowly over to the bird feigning surprise, though no one was around to watch her pretend. The moment the stone left her hand she knew exactly where it would land.
She stood over the dead bird while the others dashed away in terror. A long dormant instinct took over as she made her way to the coals which were still hot from the morning meal. Within minutes she could see the outer feathers of the bird charred while the skin began glisten like a swimmer’s back. For the first time in her life she smelled meat cooking.
Before even taking a bite the waves of guilt began building up, threatening to crash down. She reached swiftly into the fire grabbing the crackling bird, letting it burn her palm. Any of her people would call it a small price to pay. That was assuming they could gasp the concept, and Sar doubted this. She began to dig a small hole under one of the bushes near her house to bury the victim. She kept searching for the word for this act. It continued to elude her. She couldn’t help but try to find something tangible to peg it to, but it kept slipping away. Digging deep gave the deed a sense of distance.
It’s likely she would have spent the better part of the afternoon wrestling with the act, but she was not given that luxury. From the clear white clouds she began to hear a rumbling akin to a thunderstorm. Within moments a distinct patch of fluffy white had taken a cherry glow which flickered from the flames above it. A ship broke through unveiling itself to Sar.
It blasted recklessly towards her field with Rath at the controls. Gripping them tightly, he tipped the nose up at the last moment allowing the ship to skid over the tall grass. Heated from their trip through the atmosphere, the belly of the ship glowed and ignited the grass which it touched. Their landing left a deep gash in the land that would mark their arrival.
A second steel bird, thought Sar, who was standing motionless in the presence of such devastation.