Chapter Text
“So?” Sally asked impatiently. Watching her best friend fumble with the envelope, hands shaking, irritated her beyond belief. How long could you take to open a stupid letter?
Finally, after what seemed like minutes, Nia had managed to tear open the envelope and pull out a neatly folded sheet of paper which she now struggled to unfold.
“Oh, come on,” Sally snapped and tried to snatch the paper from Nia’s fingers, but Nia was too fast for her. She straightened the paper in her hands and let her bright green eyes fly over the wall of text written on it. As her face lit up, Sally felt relief wash over her like waves on a stormy beach.
“I did it!” Nia cried out and handed Sally the paper with a bright grin. “I did it!” Then she began a silly little dance on her chair; Sally shook her head, yet she couldn’t help but smile and share her best friend’s excitement. After all, she knew this was a big deal for Nia, and even if it meant that this was where their ways parted, at least for a while, Sally was ready to support Nia in every way she possibly could.
“Your turn!” Nia said eagerly, snapping Sally out of her weirdly sentimental thoughts. “Open yours! Let’s see if yours was successful as well!”
“Oh, I already opened mine ages ago,” Sally said and shrugged. “No need to make a big deal out of it, right?”
“You whaaat?” Nia stared at her incredulously. “How could you? I thought we’d open them together! Come on! … Anyway, what’s it say?” As usual, she couldn’t stay mad for long.
Sally looked at the wall thoughtfully, as if there was anything interesting to see there. “Yeah, they agreed.”
“They? Who? Come on, Sally, don’t do this to me. Can you, for once, string more than three words together? Pretty please?”
Sally took a sip from her glass and shrugged. “The Alliance of the Free Cities Council has accepted my application.” She paused. Of course, she knew exactly what Nia was thinking; her best friend tried desperately to wait patiently for her to continue. Sally knew she wouldn’t be able to. As predicted, after about thirty long seconds (which was, Sally had to admit, a new record and more than she would have thought possible), Nia burst out: “Oh come on, tell me already, where will they send you?”
Sally counted to ten in her head and braced herself. Then she replied: “Sandrock.”
“Sandrock?” Her mother stared at her, mouth agape. “But that’s –“
“So far away. Yeah, I know,” Sally sighed. “Nothing I can do, though. You know I sent about fifty applications, right? Most of the time I didn’t even get a reply. I have to take what I can get, you know. And the Council has decided to send me into the middle of nowhere, so that’s where I’ll go. I suppose.”
“But couldn’t they have sent you to, I don’t know, Atara? Tallsky?” her mother asked sternly. As if it was Sally’s fault the Council had decided her fate to lie in a shithole in the fucking desert.
Sally shook her head. She had known exactly how this conversation would turn out and she was already fed up with it. “You realize that there’s nothing to build in Atara, right? And that this famous builder family, what’s their name again, basically have some sort of monopoly in Tallsky?”
“What about Portia then?” her father chimed in from behind his newspaper. He didn’t seem particularly interested in all this and was clearly forced to take part in the conversation by his wife, as always.
“The position in Portia was filled just recently. The retired builder’s child is going to take over their workshop, so … yeah.”
The conversation continued for another twenty minutes or so, basically looping over and over again, until, finally, Sally’s mother sighed and said: “Well, then there really is nothing we can do, I suppose.”
That’s what I’ve been saying the whole time, Sally thought sarcastically.
“When will you leave, Sally? I suppose I should get you some quilts. Desert nights can get really cold, or so I hear.”
“Thanks,” Sally said, tired and defeated. “I have a date with Nia tonight. Tell her the, er, good news. Don’t wait for me, I’ll have dinner with her.”
“Do say hi from us, then,” her mother said. “And congratulations, of course. After all, she just got accepted into the botany graduate program, right? Because she was smart enough to attend college.”
“That’s what we’ll find out today,” Sally said, ignoring the little dig, as always. “She hasn’t opened her letter yet, said she wanted me to be there when she did. But let’s be real, of course she got accepted.”
“Wow,” Nia said after a pause that seemed to have lasted forever. “So, this is it. Our days are numbered.”
“No need to be so dramatic.” Sally rolled her eyes, but smiled sadly at her best friend whose eyes were filling with tears now. “I won’t be long, you know. Contract is for one year; after that, well, we’ll see.”
“Yeah, well…” sniffed Nia. “Promise you’ll write!”
“I promise.”
“Promise you’ll visit!”
“Why me?” Sally protested. “You can visit too, you know. You always said you wanted to travel new places, didn’t you?”
Nia scoffed. “Well, yeah, but, cool new places! Not some shithole in the middle of the desert.”
At this, Sally raised an eyebrow. Never before had she heard her best friend use words like ‘shithole’.
“What?” Nia said. “It’s true, isn’t it? Everyone knows it’s a dying town in the middle of nowhere. But …”
“Oh no,” Sally muttered. She knew that expression on her friend’s face. Nia had that dreamy stare that usually preceeded long-winded, absurd monologues about hope and dreams. She braced herself as Nia began: “But I guess that’s the whole point, right? It’s a dying town, so of course they need a builder to save what little is left of it. What would be the point of sending you to one of the modern big cities where everything is perfect anyway? I guess in Sandrock, you could really make a difference. Imagine, you go there, everything is barren, lifeless, sad and grey, and step by step, you help the town flourish and come back to its former glory!”
Sally couldn’t help but snort. “I’m no saviour, Nia. I don’t fool myself thinking I could really make a difference there. Not like I care anyway. I just need a job, I applied for a job, got a shit ton of rejections and now I’m taking the first actual offer I got. I’ll stay there for a year, try not to get involved with the yakboys, and then I’ll be back to Highwind in no time. Okay?”
“We’ll see. Ah, there’s our food. Well then, tuck in! My treat. But when I visit you in Sandrock, you’ll have to treat me to, er, whatever it is they’re eating in the desert. Cactus and tumbleweeds I guess?”
The next few days were spent packing. Not that Sally had much to pack anyway. It just took her so long because she kept putting the task off again and again. She had always worked best when there was a deadline anyway. There wasn’t all that much she wanted to bring. The quilt her mother had promised her was not done yet (“I’ll mail it to you, I suppose.”), and Nia had told her she wanted to give her “something,” but hadn’t delivered yet either, so Sally really only had to pack a few clothes, tools, and other essentials. And some snacks for the long train ride, of course.
The Council had sent her a telegram which really only contained the information that all the actual relevant information would be sent to her via mail; in other words, the telegram was completely useless, but such was the work of the Council. Said letter had arrived a few days later. It had contained a generic welcome message from Sandrock City Hall and some information about Sally’s contract, but it was all rather platitudinous. Oh, and they had told her her address, if you could call it that: [Workshop Name (tbd)], by the tracks, Sandrock. When she had told Nia, her best friend had burst into laughter and Sally couldn’t help but chime in. It was just all so ridiculous.
Between her packing sessions, Sally made sure to make time for Nia, who was already complaining that she missed her best friend, whenever possible. Sally didn’t say or show it, but the upcoming departure made her nervous and kind of sad as well. She knew she’d miss Nia a lot; Nia was, after all, the only human being she truly cared about. They’d meet up whenever they could to have picnics, fly kites, or swim in the little stream near Nia’s house; summer was already in the air and they tried to make the best of their remaining time. Each time they met, Nia shared with her a new fun (and sometimes not so fun) fact about the little desert town that would be Sally’s home – or rather, place of residence – for the next year.
“Did you know they have a specimen there named ‘yakmel’? Apparently a mutation of two Old World animals, yaks and camels. And people over there drink yakmel milk which is, for some reason, alcoholic?! So weird, right?”
“Can you imagine? In Sandrock, they don’t do hotpot for the Winter Solstice. How will you survive? Apparently they do barbecue instead. At least they do celebrate the Day of Memories, just like us.”
On their last day together, Nia brought another newspaper article about Sandrock. “Have you seen this?” she asked without explaining further.
“Have I seen what?” Sally asked.
“Apparently, Sandrock has a bandit problem? See for yourself!” Nia thrust the Atara Times newspaper clipping in Sally’s lap, who picked it up and read an article published by a certain “E.L.” about two nefarious bandits who had supposedly blown up the Sandrock temple (one killed, several injured, temple completely collapsed) and were now on the run.
“Well, I’m not that religious anyway,” Sally tried to lighten the mood as she returned the newspaper to Nia. “What would I need a temple for?”
But Nia wasn’t having any of it. “It could be really dangerous to go there, you know. It must be really bad if even the Atara Times reports about it. I don’t like it one bit.”
Sally shrugged. “Not like I can do anything about it. I mean, how likely is it that a gang of bandits strikes in the same little town in the middle of nowhere twice? I bet there’s not much to steal there anyway. And what does an Atara Times reporter know about anything that happens outside of their little bubble anyway? Besides… We did have combat training, remember? You forced me to go.”
“I suppose so,” Nia relented and sighed deeply. “Anyway, let’s not talk about dangerous bandits or tearful farewells now, let’s just enjoy the day!”
Sally frowned at her. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do the whole time.”
Sally and Nia departed from home on the same day. While Nia took a bus to the renowned Botany College where she was to study under the apparently world famous Professor Luo (Sally had never heard of the guy before but now knew basically everything about him from Nia’s ramblings), Sally stepped on the train to Sandrock. It was a comfortable enough train; the dining car was a bit bland, Sally found, but she only stopped there briefly for a glass of water, having forgotten her water bottle – ideal conditions for her future life in the desert.
“Promise you’ll write,” Nia had reminded her again as she had hopped on the bus, tears in her eyes. “You have to tell me everything about your new life there, you hear? Everything! The highs, the lows, the in-betweens, you know the drill.”
“You too,” Sally had said. “I want to be the first to know if you discover or create some new plant species or whatever it is you’re trying to do.”
“That’s … totally not what I’ll do,” Nia had laughed. “But yeah, I’ll write. I promise!”
“Well, now that that’s settled,” the irritated voice of the bus driver had interrupted them, “Can we move on, then? Departure was two minutes ago.”
Apologizing profusely, Nia had hastily plopped down on a motheaten bus seat and had waved until the station was out of sight.
And now Sally was on her way to her new life as well, sitting near the open window, feeling the air getting hotter and drier by the minute – at least that’s what it felt like to her. When she had ordered her water in the dining car, the waiter had jokingly told her to “ration it well, that might be the last glass of water you’ll be drinking for a long time”. Could it really be that bad? Probably not … right? She waved the thought away and tried not to dwell on this issue too much. Nothing she could do about it now. She didn’t usually drink that much water anyway, she told herself.
“Dear passengers,” the conductor’s voice boomed through the train, magnified to a ridiculous volume that made Sally jump in her seat, “We will soon be reaching Sandrock station. Passengers headed for Sandrock, please get ready to exit the train.”
The train entered the last tunnel on its way to Sandrock. When it emerged, Sally stared open mouthed at the vast barren land that seemed to stretch endlessly before her very eyes. As the train rattled over a sturdy wooden bridge and hot, somewhat foul smelling air was pushed into her face like a solid wall, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sort of dread deep within. But as always, she pushed the thought aside and tried to just be neutral about everything that was to come. At least she probably wouldn’t freeze anymore. And just think about all the vitamin D you’re going to get with all this sunlight, she thought sarcastically.
In the distance, she could make out a small train station with a rusty, dangling star-shaped sign on top that had definitely seen better days. The train slowed down and, with a magnificent screeching sound, it came to a halt at Sandrock station.
Sally got up from her seat and stretched. Her limbs feeling numb from sitting around all day, she couldn’t wait to get off the train and walk a bit. She took the one suitcase she had brought with her and stepped onto the platform; she was the only one getting off the train here.
A feeling of being lost washed over her. What now?
“Hey. You must be Sally. Er, right?”
Surprised, Sally turned around and saw herself face to face with the owner of the sweet voice that had chirped her name. It belonged to a young woman about Sally’s age and height with long, dark hair and soft brown eyes. The woman was wearing comfy-looking overalls and, for some reason, a brown cap with huge goggles on her head. In her hands, she held a neatly cut piece of wood – Sally couldn’t help but admire the handiwork; woodworking had always been one of her least favourite subjects – with Sally’s name painted on it in tidy letters.
“I am,” Sally said. It rubbed her the wrong way that this woman knew who she was while she herself had no clue about who she was dealing with. Neither the Council nor City Hall had bothered to mention someone picking her up from the station. She didn’t need help; she was perfectly capable to find her way around in such a small town, thank you very much. “And you are …?”
“Oh, I’m Mi-an!” the other woman said cheerfully as if that explained everything. She seemed to be quite attentive though; when she saw Sally’s questioning look, she went on: “I’m the other builder. I just got here a few days ago. Welcome to Sandrock!”
“Pleasure,” Sally said, not really meaning it. She was distracted; no one had told her there were two open builder positions. Not that she cared either way, of course; she simply would have liked to know beforehand. But then again, she thought, maybe it had been mentioned in one of the letters and she had just forgotten about it, which would have been quite typical for her.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Mi-an said, giving the wooden sign in her hand a little shake. “When I heard about your arrival today, I was so excited, I couldn’t sleep all night. I volunteered to meet you at the train station, show you around a bit, you know. Not that I’m an expert here, what with having arrived just a few days ago, but well, here we are!” It was quite obvious that she tried to hide her nervousness and insecurity beneath a cheerful attitude; it was so easy to see right through her, Sally thought. But somehow, Mi-an’s bubbly demeanour was quite endearing and already made Sally’s start here in Sandrock feel easier. She wondered why that was, until it hit her: Mi-an reminded her of Nia. The two of them would have become fast friends if Nia had come here, Sally was sure of it.
“Thanks,” Sally said earnestly. “It’s good not to be alone in this, I guess.”
“Totally! I wouldn’t have applied if it was just the one position, would you have?” Luckily, Mi-an didn’t leave Sally time to answer before she continued: “I feel like we can really make a difference here, you know? This town really needs us. I come from an all builder family, you see. Everyone expected me to honour the family tradition, become a builder like everyone else and then take over the workshop in Tallsky.” So she was a member of that famous builder family Sally had told her mother about weeks ago? “And I did. Become a builder, I mean. Not exactly my dream job, but here I am. Have you always wanted to be a builder?” She looked at Sally curiously.
Sally was taken aback; she had just gotten used to Mi-an’s ramblings and was content to just let the words wash over her, so the sudden question hit her unprepared and she had to think about it for a while. “I guess so,” she said thoughtfully. At least, she couldn’t remember a time when she had wanted to be anything else. If she was completely honest with herself, she hardly remembered her childhood anyway. She knew she had always enjoyed building stuff, piecing parts together to form something new, making something with her own hands and seeing the results. So, after she had finished school and her parents had told her she was “not smart enough for University anyway,” Sally had instead opted to go to trade school and learn the ropes there. Was it her dream job? She honestly couldn’t say. It was just the only thing she was good at, and the only thing she could imagine doing for the rest of her life.
“But I didn’t want to stay in Tallsky,” Mi-an went on. “Everything there is built already, you know? All we ever do is make boring luxury items for people with too much money. I thought, phew, if I have to make another marble fountain, I’ll lose my marbles!”
Sally couldn’t help but laugh at the joke; Mi-an really was a lot like Nia.
“But look at me rambling on and on, I’m so sorry,” Mi-an said and smiled at her apologetically. “You must be so tired.”
“It’s fine,” Sally assured her with a shrug.
“That’s good,” Mi-an said with visible relief on her face. “Because Yan wants to see us both right away. ‘No dilly-dallying’, he said. He’s our new boss,” she added when she saw Sally’s puzzled face. “The president of the Sandrock Commerce Guild.”
“President?” Sally frowned. “What Commerce Guild has a president?”
For a moment, she was sure she saw a dark shadow gliding over Mi-an’s friendly face. “Ah, well, you know… I don’t know. Do you want to drop your luggage off at your new workshop first or should we head directly to the Commerce Guild?”
“Let’s just go to the Guild,” Sally said. “We don’t want to keep the ‘president’ waiting. I just have the one suitcase and it’s not that heavy anyway. Lead the way.”
Mi-an happily obliged. However, she insisted on carrying Sally’s suitcase for her and all Sally’s protests were in vain. So she handed Mi-an the case and followed her down the wooden stairs of the train station and across the desert sand. Finally, Sally could catch her first glimpse of the town she’d live in for the next year.
Sandrock.
It was not the best first impression a town had ever made on anyone in history. Everything looked worn out and shabby and had definitely seen better days; at least Sally hoped it had, maybe the town had always been in such a pitiful state, who was to say? The main street that wound slightly uphill was bordered by wooden buildings in different shapes, sizes and colours. No two buildings looked the same, it was the strangest assortment of random buildings Sally had ever seen. Some of them were blue, some red, others yellow, but on most of them, the colour had already chipped and faded in the harsh desert sun. It all seemed so desolate, but she couldn’t really put her finger on why. The odd shapes and colours of the buildings she found rather charming, and the main street was quite lively. Why then did it seem so … off? It took another few seconds until it hit Sally: the complete lack of greenery. She was so used to being surrounded by lush forests, colorful flower fields, and rivers and creeks that Sandrock with its hundreds of shades of brown and yellow looked really out of place.
When they neared the entrance of the main street, Sally finally saw some green to her left. Several bushes were planted around a pool of water, an oasis of some sort apparently, with a large statue in its middle that showed a young Peach on the day he did … well, whatever he had done when he had been immortalized for that particular image that was nowadays used for every Peach statue ever. The water looked crystal clear and the sun was burning harshly; Sally would have loved to just hop into the oasis to cool off, but her train of thought was interrupted by the most unpleasant voice she had heard in a long time.
“Finally, the new builder is here. Took you long enough. Thought you were planning to have a sleepover on that train.”
She saw herself eye to eye with a short man – about heir own height – with a round, slightly red, sweaty face, dark beady eyes and an impressive kind of lopsided mustache which quivered with every word of his. His voice was a snarky drawl with some high-pitched bits woven in at seemingly random intervalls; Sally had never heard anything quite like it before. So, this guy was …?
“It was my fault, President Yan,” Mi-an chimed in. “I picked her up from the train station and I guess I was so excited about finally meeting her that I lost track of time.”
Sally frowned a little. Sweet as it was of Mi-an to take the blame for her, she didn’t like it one bit. She herself would certainly not have done the same thing for a random woman she had literally just met, and she didn’t expect anyone else to do it for her.
“I should have expected this when I sent you to fetch her, I suppose,” the self proclaimed president said and shook his head disapprovingly. He acted exactly as Sally would have expected a commissioner who called himself “president” to act. She knew that it was unwise and unfair to judge people based on first impression, but she was pretty sure that her impression of this clown wouldn’t change all too soon.
“Well, now we’re here,” she said, hoping to cut the endless circle of Yan complaining about Mi-an and Mi-an trying to weasel herself out of the situation short. “Pleased to meet you, my name is –“
“Yeah, don’t know, don’t care, newbie,” Yan interrupted her impatiently. “You’re not getting paid for small talk with me now, are you? As your new boss, well, boss is too harsh a word, really, think of me as, more like, your supervisor, your mentor – who also happens to be your boss. Ahem. Anyway, welcome to Sandrock, yadda yadda. Best to get started right away, don’t you think? Loads to do, loads to do, and I myself am terribly busy, so … why don’t you head right into the Commerce Guild and pick up your first commission?”
“Uh, President Yan?”
Sally jumped a little, flabbergasted by the voice of a man who stood right next to them but whom she hadn’t even noticed until just now. He must have been standing there the whole time, but he was so plain he was almost invisible.
“I think the new builder, er –“
“Sally,” she said helpfully, glancing over at Yan in hopes he would feel bad for interrupting her introduction earlier; her hopes had been in vain, of course.
“Right. I think Sally should settle into my, er, her place first. Get an impression of what she’ll be working with, you know? I’d like to take her right now.”
“Wow, Mason,” Mi-an beamed, “you’re so eager to help, I love to see it!”
Mason looked at her incredulously. “I just want to get this over with so I can go to the Blue Moon and drink as much yakmel milk as I can. Not much opportunity for that left now.”
“Then why don’t I take her and you can head to the saloon right now,” Mi-an suggested.
With a shrug, Mason dug into his pockets and handed Sally a worn keyring. “Here’s the keys. See you.” And with that, he slowly made his way to the other side of the street and disappeared into a large blue building, the town saloon with the cute name ‘Blue Moon’.
Without waiting for Yan’s comment, Mi-an chirped: “Alright, see you, Commissioner, er, President!” and pulled Sally’s arm to take her away from the tutting man.
“See, Mason is the old builder of Sandrock, he’s retiring and so that’s why we’re here,” Mi-an explained as the pair made their way back across the tracks, past the train station to a little barren yard with an old looking shack in it.
“He didn’t look retirement age to me,” Sally said thoughtfully. She wasn’t any good at guesstimating people’s ages, but how old could Mason be? In his forties? Fifties?
“Now that you mention it, he really doesn’t. Maybe he was just such a good builder that he has earned enough money to be able to never work another day and live comfortably anyway? In any case, Yan is giving Mason’s old workshop to you. Mine’s in the back of town, I can show you later if you’d like. Tada, here we are!”
Upon entering the yard, it immediately became crystal clear to Sally that Mason was not some kind of prodigy builder who got stupid rich by pumping out high level commissions. The yard was … well, it was a catastrophe. Piles of junk were scattered everywhere, one could hardly see the ground for all the trash, and Sally almost fell when she stumbled over an old rusty axe which was just lying there in the middle of the dirt patch. In a corner near the fence lay the remains of what must have been a simple furnace once; now it was basically just a useless pile of stones, inviting everyone to trip over it and break a limb or two. The only intact things in the yard seemed to be a small worktable and the assembly station that stood in another corner; it seemed to be in an okayish condition, Sally found when she inspected it closer.
“Oh boy.” Mi-an spoke the words that Sally was quietly thinking to herself and let out a nervous little laugh. “Well, er …” Apparently, the other builder had never taken a closer look at this workshop despite having been here for a few days already.
“Does yours look like this too?” Sally asked. “You know what, don’t tell me, I’m not ready for the answer. Let’s just hope inside is a bit more inviting.”
It was not. The little shack had but one room (plus a tiny little washroom) in it, and in this room stood nothing but an old wooden bed with a mattress that looked way beyond its best years and a motheaten quilt.
“How did Mason live like this?” Mi-an called out as she entered the shack behind Sally.
“Maybe he already took everything out?” Sally suggested, not really believing her own words. Mi-an was right; how had Mason lived here? The place didn’t even have a kitchen. Had Mason spent all his hard-earned money on food and yakmel milk at the saloon, then?
“Well, not to worry,” Mi-an said, back to her old cheerful self. “We have an excellent architect in town, Heidi, you’ll love her.” Sally doubted that. “I’m sure she can fix the place up in no time. I can introduce you if you want.”
Sally’s head started to hurt; Mi-an’s speed and bubbliness overwhelmed her. “We’ll see. For now I think I just want to settle in and rest.”
Mi-an nodded. “You do that, I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, my workshop is right next to the Research Center. But I’m running around here all the time anyway, looking for materials and stuff, so just call out for me.”
“Right. Thanks.”
“After you’ve rested, you should check out the town and introduce yourself to the townsfolk,” Mi-an added as she reached the door. “I’m sure they’ll love you!”
“Right,” Sally said again. She would definitely not do that. Mi-an was nice enough, but quite overwhelming. Yan was rather unpleasant, and that was already a very diplomatic description. Mason was … well, he was there. So far, Sally’s first impression of Sandrock and its residents was not the best and for now she had no desire whatsover to add to that list.
When Mi-an had left, the first thing Sally did was to get rid of the filthy quilt on the bed. Luckily, she had been smart enough to bring her own bedding. There was no way in hell that she was going to sleep on Mason’s old mattress; who knew what that poor thing had seen.
She sat down on the freshly made bed and buried her face in her hands. Not to worry, she scolded herself, you had a long journey, you’re tired and irritated, everything’s going to be fine, it’s just a year, relax.
Her soothing thoughts didn’t help though, quite the contrary. She could already feel the first small waves of a panic attack washing over her, and she desperately tried to contain it, but to no avail. Her heart ached, she tried to concentrate on her breathing, deep breaths, in and out, but failed. She felt helpless and alone and she hated it, she hated every second of it. It took her several minutes to regain composure, to steady her breaths and fight back the tears. Slowly, she stood up from the bed, breathed in and out two more times and braced herself for leaving the house. She didn’t really want to, but felt like she had to. If she cooped herself up here for too long, Mi-an would probably notice, get worried and draw even more attention to her than the position ‘one of the two new town builders’ already did. Better to jump into the rockyenaroll’s den head first herself.