A Taste of Mortality

They threaded the now completely barren forest. It looked like it was burned long ago – Ona became even more silent, cutting through the snow banks with mute obstinacy. Tiyan followed her like a ghost – two small human shapes among curled trees, standing in the frozen ground like sore thumbs.

All the time, Tiyan wondered when the Will-o’-the-Wisps would appear. They were going in more or less south, Ona was certain, but Tiyan felt more and more that he does something wrong.  His inner compass was telling him they do, something whispered to him, that he should start searching elsewhere. That soon he will have to make up his mind… if wandering fires won’t appear. Mina circled in his mind almost all the time, his guts squeezed with worry. It was the sixth day and the landscape looked almost the same – aside of the road, which was showing beautifully damaged remains in form of signposts loosely hanging on nails and foundations of once cozy inns. But who knows how to find an entrance to the enchanted land? It could be hidden so well, he will never be able to find it.

He heard of humans who wandered close to Ain’asel. They never saw the path, or signs – they were just finding themselves under a completely different sky. No stars known to travelers, unknown constellations and even snow gleamed with different light. Few of them returned. They were sure it was a curse, being again in the reality of the humans. They were going mad in the end, but all confesed before that, that the sky… it was not a human sky, too close to the land, like it was about to press them against the earth. Something to ponder about, Tiyan thought bitterly.

Ona was silent, silent like a stone, but he was aware that she was not angry. Her own demons pulled her strings, and he respected that. When he was starting to talk, Ona of course talked back.  But there was something in her, some worry and hurry. Tiyan was thinking about the favor she would one day ask for.

With wind in the face – strong and not stopped by the thicker trees, they had snow under caps and wraps, which bit them just in the skin, melting under their jackets. The weather was even more working up on Ona, who looked like she was about to bite through the path, with teeth in the trees and arms squeezing life from the wind.

He couldn’t not admire her. She reminded him of hunters from his childhood, the ones who he looked up for. Nayarala… Seph, Kofen. They were village legends. He was sure they were widely known, but when he grew up, he understood, the hunters, just like other people, were silent and unknown heroes of everyday life. They weren’t killing dragons, or saving women from the castles guarded by evil spirits. They were mothers, fathers, daughters and sons. But they were taking life as it was, trying to beat it in its own game.

Ona was like that too.

When he was going to sleep, he was thinking about Noyd. A lot. What she would say seeing him in the company of Ona. If she would like her, or she would consider him reckless trusting his life so much to an unknown traveler. Afterall, he was sleeping tightly as she guarded him. She could pierce him with her knife so easily. She could choke him to death. But he felt that he could trust her. She was not a changeling in disguise, she was not a deadling or maddened faeborn. She was… Ona.

He felt safe near her.

And knew that Noyd wouldn’t like it. Even if nothing really was happening. Noyd was never jealous, but still, Tiyan left her, joining another. Sleeping with her between same walls. Actually liking her.

She was sad, when he decided to not spoil their friendship with romance. But when he said goodbye to Noyd, he knew, after their first despearate lovemaking, nothing will be ever the same. Something changed between them, irrevocably. And he knew that for the better.

But he has always feared. He feared that he may lose her.

Stupid, you are stupid. Now, you can never see her again. Now, you can die under unknown stars, pressed to the ground by crepuscular darkness. And you’ll never tell her… that you are not just her friend. That you feel more… much more.

Ona didn’t know about Noyd, but he was sure she would just shrug. Ona was not endangering Noyd in any way and they both knew that.

But that wasn’t making feel better. For leaving her. For being a fool. For pretending they can be only friends, while his heart already spoke. In dark times, at least this should be easier.

He stumbled just on standing Ona, almost falling in the snow.

“What’s going on?” he said almost bluntly, trying for his voice to be louder than the wind.

Ona showed him.

There was blood on the snow. A lot of blood.

And small body parts.

Maybe belonging to squirrels or other small animals, a lot of them. Torn from the bodies with vicious precision, half-maimed; visible bones; wounds done purposefully and with cruel aim, corpses laying on blood-stained ground, making a perfect circle.

Tiyan did not have the healthiest expression, because Ona had to add.

“Do not puke. That would be unwise.”

Tiyan almost asked why, but of course. Whoever or whatever came through here, and left this carcass, surely could still be very close. Throwing up would leave traces, intense scent. Besides… she underestimated him, he was definitely not going to throw up.

He huffed, warm air leaving his nostrils and dissipating with a cloud in the air.

“Do you think… we should take a different path…?”

“Yes, ” Ona agreed. “You know that this—” she showed the squirrels or whatever it was. “— was specially put that way?”

Tiyan nodded. Of course. This was more than obvious.

“I may be guessing what it is. And for us, it would be better to not attract it.”

“How do you know?” Tiyan decided to be more inquisitive.

“It may be faeries… or that. Both options are bad. But I truly doubt the fey did that. They usually prefer humans over small creatures.”

She kneeled near the laying bodies, her finger slid through the bloody mess. She showed him the index – it was tinted with whitish substance, with slightly green shade. Tiyan quickly thought that it looks like saliva.

“I am sure we can try to avoid both” she stated. “If it’s fey, we have less chances, But if it’s what I think, it doesn’t look good too.”

Not saying anything more, she cleaned the fingers in the snow and standing up, she looked with a piercing gaze into the trees shapes in the distance, a seemingly burned trunks. The light circling her sithouette with a bright outline. She looked like embraced by halo for a moment.

“The sun is still high. We should go around the road” her voice muffled by scarves… or worry.

She seemed so collected, almost cold but Tiyan felt it’s a pose. And it were not her words that worried him more, but expresssion, subtle body talk. It was first time he saw her that alert. Frightened. But concealing it deeply to not show anything. But he was – suprisingly – a good observer. Her eyes were drifting around in visible anxiety, and she twice rubbed her forehead, something which was typical for his father too, when he was worried.

“You surely know what you are doing” Tiyan really thought so. But each longer path meant lost time. He didn’t know if to hate the one who killed those squirrels… or Ona for being reasonable.

Mina. He should go faster.

A crooked grin from Ona indicated that she finds him even greener than before.

“So, maybe tell me from what do we run? Because we certainly run.”

“Have you heard about the fey beasts?”

Tiyan didn’t. It slightly angered him, that he never cared to learn more. He would be able to carry himself in the wilderness much better.

“Magic. It’s all magic, vile and uncontrolled. It can change animals into rotting balls of pain… but sometimes, it works on their minds too. It can madden them…or give them both madness and almost human intelligence. Then they are furious, and calculating, wanting to take revenge on the world. They are so dangerous that we call them fey beasts. They can plan and think.”

Tiyan imagined an beast, angry, vengeance-driven… a perfect killer who likes to cause pain and knows how to do it. Intelligent. Puruser with skills. And… slightly mad. It was actually a nightmare, so Tiyan decided that indeed, it would be better to not enter its territory.

Additionally, it hit him how much Ona knows. Like she met one of them in the past… and took her time to understand it.

“But why it…” he waved at the remains, trying to just forget how maimed they were. “Why all of this? I don’t see sense, aside of marking its territory.”

A cursed suspicion wormed its way to his brain. Painful in its simplicity.

“Perhaps. Or its some kind of rite. Understandable only for them.”

Say it. You don’t need to protect me. I am not a child.

“It’s not the first time, yes? You didn’t only hear about them” more a statement than a question.

“I met one… once. And back then.. one of them did… similar thing. Not the same… similar. That’s why I doubt it’s lesser folk. But since then… a lot changed” Ona fixed her scarves, her eyes drifting worryingly in the sun’s direction, lingering for a bit on the brightness.

“You’ll lose your eyes,” fired Tiyan.

“So they say,” smiled darkly Ona. “We may hurry. These remains are very fresh. I don’t want to still be around when the night falls.”

Better hurry indeed. Mina can scream. She might be in pain.

The two bundled shapes changed direction, aiming just into the seemingly burned forest on the other side of the road, hoping that if they circle the territory slightly, they might not meet the death.

What is we attracted this beast long ago? What is it killed these animals to show us it knows?

And he felt, no, he knew, that Ona is aware of that too. Maybe has a plan, maybe not.

But hopes it’ not true.

Noyd jumped over the fallen log, Tiyan jumped after her. The forest seemed to sparkle as the sun shone through the branches like jewels between spread fingers. Tiyan felt the sun enter his eyelids and blind him for a moment, only to release him suddenly when the leaves dimmed the light.

“My mother said it is unwise to look at the sun,” Noyd said with a light, friendly sneer. “You could lose your eyes.”

Tiyan’s face lit up with one of his special smiles with which he broke the hearts of adults: light, innocent. Puppy smile.

The forest was their second home. It surrounded Inamora and stretched throughout the Vennklan Valley. Bright and safe during the day because the villages were undisturbed by predators; mysterious and tempting at night. The perfect place for children to disappear into the thicket, recklessly – and bravely – and then suddenly reappear for supper, guided by instinct and their inner compass.

Tiyan has had such a compass since he learned to walk. He always knew where he was, he didn’t even have to look to see. Noyd said he was a wizard. She herself got lost easily as they entered the dense forest.

“You’re a mage, not a knight,” she laughed. “You don’t have to have a sword. Magic is enough.”

Tiyan preferred the sword. He had never held a sword in his hand, but he felt that he could fight, save damsels in distress and compete in tournaments,

The magic was strange. Too wild for him. Too chaotic. At least the sword had shape and lay securely in one’s hand.

Besides, real mages didn’t exist. There were only witches, but they were blessed by the goddess. And they were only girls.

Tiyan wouldn’t want to be a medic anyway, like the witches did. The blood scared him a bit.

Noyd joked about how he would become a knight when he was afraid of blood. Knights shed blood. In war and defending damsels in distress.

Tiyan didn’t know how to respond to this, so he got offended and didn’t talk to Noyd until she dragged him away for another escapade.

“Where are we?” Noyd, despite her warning, looked straight at the sun.

“You’ll lose your eyes,” Tiyan grinned.

Noyd gave him a killer smile.

“I think I know where; we should reach Nagava soon.”

Nagava was a small river flowing through the forest. It was the outflow of the Solma, which stretched far, far away to the sea in the west.

“We’ll be able to get our feet wet,” he added because he was a little tired.

Noyd ran, so he followed her – soon they saw a river, surrounded by grass and stones, shallow enough at the ford for them to get wet.

Tiyan entered first, delighted to feel the clean water washing his feet. The sun was shining, warm and bright, and the forest looked like something out of a fairy tale. Tiyan went deeper, the water reached his knees.

“Noyd, come!”

But he heard no answer.

“Noyd?” he turned around, because it was very out of character for his friend to fall silent at the climax of the fun..

Very slowly.

With a questioning eyebrow raised.

And then he saw the flames.

Noyd stood by the water, her mouth open in a silent scream, her body ravaged by fire so intense it was white. Her arms were spread to her sides, as if she wanted to embrace the flames and embrace him, to share the burning embers with him.

And Noyd… moved towards him.

Tiyan shouted.

He screamed for a long, long time. Millenia, eons. Screamed until he couldn’t scream anymore, his voice choking in his throat.

Until he felt fire on his skin.

He woke up, disoriented, scared and still half-asleep. The warmth embraced him with heat, and the scent of burn reached his nostrils, and the feeling of water dripping over his head.

He watched with horror, how the white hot flames crawled over his body. He was ready to scream, sure that he is only numbed by shock and the pain will come soon, but it didn’t and Tiyan slowly raised up, sitting on the blanket. His clothes, his warm thick jacket and pants, were unaffected, the fire, even if he felt its heat, wasn’t burning him.

It was in some way… beautiful. Like the dance of the light and shadows. The snow melted around him, but the fire didn’t drown in water, it was water which started to evaporate.

It was that hot.

And it was both scaring him and hypnotizing. The flames licked his fingers, untamed and wild.

His gaze darted at Ona. In fear, in doubt. This was the same fire that burned the deadling, making a pulp from his arms. It was the same fire that he didn’t tell her about. He was almost sure that if she saw it, she would either leave him on the road, not allowing him nearby.

Or… the worst scenario was that she would think he is cursed or is a servant of the Fae… and he knew her maybe not long enough, but he was sure she would kill him then.

His eyes moved with the flames, which didn’t harm him, at all, almost kissing him, placing tender caress on his skin.

And thought crept into his mind. Wild, unnatural and mad. If he was able to do that, how could it help him to pry Mina from the talons of Ain’asel? How much these burning white could harm the fey? But mostly, how much they knew about it and why they wanted it so much for themselves? Because he was sure that this, nothing else, is making him so valuable in their eyes.

It scared him, but something deep in his soul protested before this fear. Use it. He felt almost… like the fire speaks to him to give himself to this, how it tempts him. But that… was scaring him even more.

Ona slept. He at least thought so.

Her half-lidded eyes observed him, though. Pierced him, like daggers. Green eyes in a blackened face, so dark, that almost invisible.

But she didn’t say anything.

The flames seemed to sink into Tiyan’s skin. Disappearing, like mist. He caught himself holding breath. He almost felt as his lungs sucked in air, when he inhaled. The scent of heat dispersed, like the fire never was there.

He felt a huge bile forming in his throat. This was evil. This was not a gift.

But he wanted, suddenly, for it to not be a dream. He needed everything to save his sister. Even if his heart protested and squeezed at the possibilities.

He hated killing. He hated magic. But the imagination of screaming Mina, tortured by the beautiful darkness, was enough for him to hate enough to take the Fae’s life.

The animal roared painfully as Ona’s arrow pierced its body, severing its muscles. Tiyan thought that this roar would never end, but when he plunged his dagger into the flesh, the creature fell silent – the dagger reached its heart. The wounded beast let out its last breath and a groan that, as always, moved Tiyan deeply. These animals had no life, and their death was both a salvation for them and a conclusion to their painful existence.

They both pulled their weapons from its body, blood began to flow, staining the ground red.

Tiyan sat down in the snow, knowing his pants would get wet, but he couldn’t stay on his feet.

“I hate killing,” he said in a hollow voice. He saw that the blood had also reached his clothes. The ichor took on a strange shape on his jacket.

Immediately, involuntarily, he thought of the pendant. He slipped his hand under his blouse to check if he still had it. It was there. Strangely warm, as if it was pulsing in his hand.

“Don’t touch yourself, just help me cut it,” he heard Ona, who was wiping cold sweat from her forehead.

Tiyan immediately left the pendant alone, for fear that Ona would discover it and start asking questions.

And the questions about the Fae were terrifying.

Tiyan knew how hard it was to prepare korhal’s meat. Their skin was thick, their fur even thicker. But these beasts were usually beyond his reach, and it was rare for any hunter to kill the creature alone. Moreover, they were very aggressive, and their claws were so long that if it had not been for Ona’s distraction, he would not have dared to stab it with a dagger, even from behind.

This particular one… was strangely calm though, like something bothered it more than hunters who aimed to kill it.

They began to laboriously peel off the rotting skin of their victim.

“Me too,” Ona suddenly said.

Tiyan turned towards her, not fully understanding her.

“You said you didn’t like killing,” she replied, making another cut. “Me too. I can’t stand it. I can feel their pain, the animals’ pain.”

Tiyan opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. He felt like he was going to say something idiotic.

He carefully pushed his knife straight through the wound in the animal’s heart.

The chest was open, like a gate to the underworld. There was nothing to protect the heart except tissue and skin. No bones, they protruded from sides, like shattered glass.

“Look.”

She glanced, frowning. It wasn’t natural.

The heart was large, fleshy, one might even say fat. Ona seemed to know what she was looking at and what she was looking for, but…

“It’s magic,” she said, eventually. “Magic seeps through its body. Probably… it was just too much for it, and the body changed… even more.”

That made him sad, even if he just killed it. Maybe even more. The magic which appeared in Avras was of darkest kind, taking away the will to live. He loathed that. 

“There’s never too little of it,” Tiyan gritted his teeth.

“For some, it’s the other way around” Ona sat back down, cutting the flesh again. “Some gloat with it.” her eyes darted at him, like she wanted to see him agree.

Oh yes. For the Fae. For the children of the night and rot and winter. And for their servants.

At home he once heard a story. By chance. It wasn’t a nice or uplifting story. In a way, it terrified him, and yet he had never seen a faery before. However, the story was different from anything he had heard.

In the houses of the Vennklans, people often gathered to listen to stories. Even after the war, residents continued the custom, wanting to feel unity and community. And they told stories, often inappropriate for children. Therefore, when people were gathering in Gravir;s home, Tiyan and Mina had to leave the main room. They didn’t have to go to sleep. They were just supposed to not disturb them.

Before his first and last battle, Tiyan was cautious but curious about the world. Therefore, several times, hiding in shadowy places, he pretended that he was not there and listened to the stories. He usually came across hunting tales. But then, as he hid in the shadows and darkness, he heard something that kept him awake at night.

It was the story of Nayarala, a woman who was more of a storyteller than a hunter, although she dabbled in both. To Tiyan, she was impenetrable, a little scary, and a little admirable. A bit of everything.

When Nayarala was talking, no one interrupted, no one laughed. They were dark and old stories. Told in a tone that might as well be the sound of an approaching storm.

Oh yes, Tiyan admired Nayarala. She was what he wanted to become in the future.

Perhaps Tiyan remembered it now because he dreamed of Noyd and his childhood on the first day. And Nayarala’s story, which he heard long after the talk with Noyd, was very similar to the conversation he had dreamed about back then.

“Ona” he plunged the knife into the flesh again, carving out the healthy red meat.

“Mhm…” Ona looked like a fierce warrior. With a sharp knife. And a bow, she put against a rock.

“Have you heard the ballad about the fox?”

She shook her head. There was already a large portion of meat lying next to her.

“We will have provisions for a few days. This korhal had a lot of healthy tissue.”

Tiyan sadly saw the meager results of his efforts.

“Your thoughts were elsewhere,” Ona immediately excused him, and Tiyan felt grateful. “For example, among foxes.”

“You really didn’t hear? I thought theater troupes performed it often when they were travelling from town to town?”

Only now did he realize that she couldn’t have known any theater troupes. Her adaptation to the road and her skills still made him think of her as much older than she actually was.

She looked at him with certain amusement.

“I think I should one day tell you few things about myself. You can tell me  about the fox, though, if you’re so tempted. We still have to salt it all and cook some of it.”

Tiyan frowned.

“Salt from a bottomless backpack.”

“Just like that.”

*

When the meat was cooking over the fire, and Ona and Tiyan again built a makeshift shelter from the snow, Tiyan stared into the flames, memories rushing at him. Noyd. Noyd loved dangerous stories, dark fairy tales. He loved hearing about knights. It may have been simpler, but it was certainly more rational. Certainly nowadays.

They never agreed on, he and Noyd, what stories were the best. Now they both knew, that those in which the teller doesn’t die.

“I can’t help but feel like you’re thinking hard.” Ona glanced at him curiously. The setting sun gave her white hair a glow that made the paint on her face even blacker.

“It happens to me sometimes,” Tiyan smiled.

She shook her head. With amusement. Tiyan suddenly thought about how often they smiled. And he felt strange. He didn’t know what Mina was doing now, but she definitely wasn’t smiling. Perhaps screamed. He hated imagining her in pain, with monsters feeding on her fear.

You are too slow. You must hurry. Faster. Just… be fast.

But there was something… stable about Ona, something that made you feel safe. She didn’t panic, she took matters into her own hands. Something Tiyan avoided.

He didn’t want to break the mood… but something tempted him to ask. A suspicion had been brewing in him since his sleep in the barn.

“There’s a story,” he said suddenly. She didn’t silence him, just looked at him curiously. “About the fox. Fae.”

She didn’t answer, but she still didn’t interrupt him. He didn’t know if talking about the Fae would summon an enemy, but he doubted it. His brain was no longer open to them,

“Supposedly, he tempted young women, those who lost their way in the forest. He was able to charm them with his glamour so that they followed him to his palace. And traces of them disappeared.”

“Very Fae, I guess.”

“Yes. But I remembered something. Apparently the fox commanded the shadows. They followed him like dark children of the night of which he was a part. And ravens. Black ravens followed him, whispering to his victims, his—”

Tiyan had never seen a face change so quickly. In one moment she went from curious to stunned, almost terrified. No. Not terrified. Full of hate. Yes, hate. Very strong.

“These are just fairy tales,” she said through clenched teeth. Tiyan wasn’t sure how to take this.

He didn’t think he said anything wrong.

“So you know—”

“No” She abruptly picked up the piece of meat she was roasting and pressed the stick into his hands. “Eat.”

“And you? Aren’t you hungry?” he accepted the meat reluctantly.

“Not like I could be.”

She looked not angry… more sad, like his words brushed her skin with something harsh. He wondered why. He didn’t want to push though.

He somehow know she will tell him one day. And if not… he started to suspect already.

*

Slowly eating the not-so-bad meat, Tiyan watched as Ona settled down for the night in their shelter. The first guard was his. After eating a solid portion, he no longer felt so tired. The rest of the meat, salted, lay nearby, wrapped in the same strange material that served as their blanket.

Ona knew the story about the fox.

No.

She has heard of the night and shadows. Something he started to associate with the Shadow that seemingly had Mina. Who needed him so much, that he killed his family, to… motivate him to go. To tear everything from him, so he was alone… and scared.

And somehow, Ona knew them. And hated them.

Tiyan slept through the night, not being bothered by the intense cold – or worse things, which creeped and crawled in darkness. His mind needed rest, a break from pain and suffering – and the best means of transport when escaping from oneself – is sleep.

Ona didn’t wake him up to change her guard, she stubbornly stayed at her post, even though she had probably endured many such nights – sleepless, heavy as lead, poisonous as mercury.

Building a makeshift house out of snow gave them an advantage against the wind and cold. What had tormented Tiyan for two nights, two cruel nights without sleep and with an overwhelming sense of guilt, was stripped of its tiredness to throw his consciousness into action.

Ona didn’t even look a little tired. As if a sleepless night was as natural to her as melting snow over a fire, which she was doing now. Her painted face looked fierce and uncompromising in the light of the icy morning.

“Water” Tiyan was stating a fact rather than asking a question. He sat down next to her, on the fallen branch of the tree they had built their shelter next to the night before.

“Sometimes it can be drunk” She wasn’t really in the mood to talk. Tiyan felt a little hurt, or rather he would have if it weren’t for the reality they were in.

After leaving the winter house, the wind bit his cheeks like a mad dog. There was more snow – Ona temporarily shoveled it away from the entrance.

Tiyan wasn’t really good at countering sarcasm. Mina was much better at it, even though they were five years apart. Mina was strong. Stronger. Tiyan was beginning to see the irony in this.

“Do you know roughly where to look for your sister?” Ona asked suddenly, her gaze lingering on Tiyan, then falling to the ground.

Did she also have unremembered nightmares that night?

Or maybe she remembered too many of them?

“I know the direction. Roughly” Tiyan still couldn’t decide whether to tell Ona about the irrefutable fact that Mina had not got lost  but had been cruelly kidnapped, and his own steps were leading him into the very mouth of the beast.

Would she still want to accompany him if she knew how much she would put herself at risk by being close to him? The Fae could kill her like they killed his parents – for fun, to motivate him, or vice versa. They needed him. But not her. She was another person who could be surrounded by roots and branches.

Tell her.

No.

“Roughly,” Ona nodded. A slight smile on her dark face. “You are truly amazing.”

Tiyan snorted.

“I’m lost, but definitely not amazing.”

“You are amazing. You don’t know the way, but you’re walking. Like in an old children’s book I once read. About an endless journey. About a journey without a destination, or rather with a goal that is unattainable.”

Tiyan frowned.

“Are you sure this was a children’s book?”

“Oh yes,” a smile on her face, light, sad. “But this is my interpretation. In the book, the wolf and the fox went berry picking together.”

Tiyan suddenly thought that Ona was not involved in the war. In the slaughter. She was not part of the battlefield, flowing with blood. She didn’t watch her comrades die because of her. Her childhood was spent waiting, just like the mayor’s wife’s and daughter’s.

And this was much worse. He went to war – to slaughter – as a boy, it was dangerous, yes, he could have died. But he learned to act when he was ten. He saw his hands stained with blood. He heard the screams of his friend, whose arm was eaten by a small, wonderful monster. And he saw how the spell, the glamour, brought warriors to their knees.

Ona, when she was a child, waited. She was too young to go to war – to slaughter – too young to take up the call of duty. She  was maybe six  years old when the Fae came for the humans.

He was too young too. Way too young. It harmed him, like a razor sliding through the throat.

She waited. She was losing hope. She waited again.

That’s probably why – when her world was in ruins, she took action. And Tiyan, not reading the stories about the fox and the wolf going out to pick berries, afraid that someone would not come back – just wanted to stop acting. The war – the slaughter – left him with a hole in his heart and a lack of courage.

He hated being a coward. He hated being guilty.

“I didn’t read much,” he blurted out nonsense.

“You must have read fairy tales to your sister.”

Fairy tales.

Nightmares.

“No. No fairy tales. She was afraid of them. But yes,” Tiyan admitted. “Stories about knights. About dragons. I liked them best, and so did she.”

“And when you were a boy… How old are you?” She tilted her head in a funny way, but her eyes remained serious.

“Twenty” barely passed his lips. War Child. A child of the times in between.

She looked at him for a moment. so intensely that Tiyan felt uncomfortable.

“You were there,” she nodded. “Were you there?” as if she wanted to make sure.’

Tiyan pulled his cap over his head. The wind stopped for a moment, only to return with increased force.

“Together with my father. And a mother.”

She didn’t ask any more. There was silence, not a heavy, uncomfortable silence. But calm, full of understanding. She took the pot of water off the fire and handed him a small, broken cup.

“Here. Warm yourself up. You’re probably all stiff after spending the night in this house.”

Tiyan took the cup gratefully.

“Your backpack is very roomy,” he decided to joke.

“Oh yes” She grabbed her backpack and slowly started to open it. “Do you want to see what treasures I have hidden here?”

“I’m scared,” Tiyan laughed for the first time in many days. Or months.

“And you should. But there’s also something there… That should cheer you up a little. Legend has it that things like this improve your mood.”

Tiyan raised an eyebrow.

“I held it for a long time. It must be molded” sparkles in her eyes. Mischievous sparkles.

Tiyan sighed.

“In our situation, eating molded things from your backpack is still better than eating rotting animals.”

“Oddly enough, it didn’t rot. And it should. Maybe it’s the frost.”

She took out a piece of… something, wrapped tightly in cloth.

“I told myself I would eat one piece every year I have lived. Thanksgiving feast. And a promise that I won’t get myself killed.”

She unraveled the knot and Tiyan saw a brown plaque.

“It’s very rare. I’ve got it… no matter how I’ve got it. Now… it’s irrelevant” her eyes shifted, she quickly handed him the unknown treat. Her smiled faded for while, like the sun hidden behind the passing cloud.

Something dark in her past. Another dark spot.

“But… anyway, try it yourself. I don’t know how it’s done, but…”

Tiyan carefully broke off a piece and looked at it. There were white spots on the brown background.

“However, mold.”

“No, it’s not. You can try. I don’t know how, but it’s still edible. Maybe we’ll get sick after fourty years, but now… Eat.”

“Won’t you want to celebrate another year with it?”

She laughed.

“I just want to see your face when you try.”

Tiyan carefully, very carefully, put the piece into his mouth.

What he felt, after years of eating cooked leftovers, was… terrifying. He wasn’t ready for this. He swallowed a piece, almost choking – while coughing, he waved his hand with a mug at her to pour water. She quickly filled his cup.

“What’s that?” he managed to choke out.

“An invention from the capital, before the war.”

The slaughter.

“They call it chocolate.”

“Goddess, that was…”

“Good.”

“And you only manage to eat a little bit every year?”

Ona’s smile faded. Tiyan immediately realized that he had said something stupid.

“I have to,” she replied, her face pale. “Otherwise… I won’t be able to live through it all.”

And Tiyan knew exactly what she meant.