Chapter 10
556 Words
I look around to localize anyone who is capable of answering my questions. There are only children around me, but there where children are, there will be at least one adult. And I quickly find a woman probably a few years older than me, who sweeps a porch and looks at the children.
“Excuse me,” I speak. “How do I get to Alarana’s house?”
“Alarana's? You probably mean her new house. It’s this way.” She waves her hand to show me the direction. “But she isn’t home.”
“I know, I was in her unit, but came back earlier,” I say just to keep up talking. “They are just marching into the city.”
“Well, in that case, Alarana will be here in a few hours. You can wait for her with me.”
I enter her house. It’s very clean, but modest, furnished with simple wooden furniture.
“I’m Daria,” she says.
“I’m Mia. Are you not afraid to let a stranger into your house?”
“You are not a stranger anymore.” She smiles at me. “Besides you came with Kartan. I know him, he wouldn’t lead anyone evil in here.” She pulls out a basket with vegetables.
“You trust him.”
“I do. We, from the Fourth, must trust eachother,” she says and starts chopping vegetables.
“Ummm… can I help you?” I ask feeling stupid that she works and I’m idly sitting.
“Sure, here chop these, in cubes,” she says and hands me a knife and some cabbage and beetroots.
We work for a while in silence.
“So, you met Alarana in the military?” Daria asks me when all veggies ate in the pot.
“Yeah,” I say, reluctant to elaborate. What would I tell her? That I’ve seen death and pain and I don’t even know what exactly I was fighting for?
“It was a surprise that she enlisted. She is such a sweet girl. Not really fit for the military.”
“I agree,” I say. “That wasn’t a place for her. Nor for any of us.”
“You’re right. No one should be forced to fight.” Her eyes turn wet. “I’m sorry, my husband was a soldier. He died in battle when I was pregnant with our younger one. We get an annuity and I’m cooking for some workers. It’s not that bad. But I miss him.” She sobs and I hug her. “Oh dear, the soup will boil over,” she says after a while. “Let’s eat on the porch. The smell will encourage the customers.” She winks. We plate up four portions of reddish, nicely-smelling soup and put the plates on a table on the porch.
“Alvyn, Aria, come here,” she yells and two children run to us. They have fair hair and blue eyes, just like their mother. I guess the author had the thing for blondes. “This is Mia,” she introduces me. They look at me curiously, eventually, the girl speaks.
"You've got funny hair."
"Aria, that wasn't polite," Daria scolds her.
"No, she is right," I smile at her. "My hair colour isn't common here."
- Writer
