Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 35: Community

Toren Daen

I carefully set down the chopped log, angling it so that way it formed a small pyramid with the others. A bit of dry kindling was loosely spread underneath, the tinder serving as a place to first light the fire.

Covertly looking around, I made sure nobody was paying too much attention to me. Then, with a flare of my mana, I flicked a single ember into the dry leaves and twigs. My spell expanded outwards slightly, the little ember embracing its new fuel. Slowly, the fire caught, licking at the larger logs.

I leaned back, satisfied with my work. I was wearing the 'hobo coat,' as Naereni had dubbed it, and dirtied my hair slightly to obscure its bright color. My strawberry-blonde locks stood out in the lifeless alleys of East Fiachra, after all.

I smiled at an older man who hobbled up, a pot full of water in his hands. I offered to take it from him, considering he looked to be barely holding on, but he waved me away. The man endured longer than I expected, and soon the pot was affixed on a thin metal rod, which let it hang over the fire.

Now all that was left was to wait for the water to boil and then the stew could be made. I spied out of the corner of my eye a few thick bones in Greahd's wagon, which would no doubt be used to make hearty bone broth. A few others chipped in miscellaneous herbs and ingredients, and soon enough a few people were rushing to set up another cooking pot. After all, there were more than enough ingredients for a single pot.

Wade lingered near the edge of the gathering, watching with a look I couldn't decipher. He was bundled up in a similar coat as me, though I thought he stood out despite the attempt at disguising himself as a hobo.

I meandered past a few men, who were unnervingly thin from starvation. But the gleam in their eyes as they prepared for this community pow-wow seemed to provide them with the strength a healthy body would. They were setting up short benches out of wood in a circle around the cookfires, using their scrawny arms to haul them about.

Greahd was listening to Naereni telling an animated story, the mousy brown-haired lady nodding along with a smile as the young woman regaled her with some feat. There was a slightly pinched look in the older woman's eyes, though.

"Oh, Naereni, you know you shouldn't be running about, messing with the Bloods," Greahd said. "It's only a matter of time before they try and find you here, girl. It's too dangerous for you. It told you that all the time when you were little."

Naereni sniffed, her upbeat air from her story simmering away. "The Bloods look down on us, Auntie. That's why you all don't get to eat all the time, and why we have to help. And besides, they haven't caught me yet. I'm fast and good at what I do."

Greahd sighed, going back to stirring a pot that was just beginning to boil. "Oh, you know what I mean, girl. They'll get you one day, and I don't want to be the one to see them carting in your–"

The woman choked off her words as she noticed me approaching. I winced, easily guessing what she was about to say.

Carting in your corpse, I finished for her in my head. Like Norgan's.

"Oh, Toren! It's good to see you again so soon!" she greeted, a mask of cheer wiping away her earlier annoyance. "Karsien's certainly introduced you to Naereni," she said, gesturing to the person who had brought me here in the first place.

"We know each other," I said with a smile. We had purposefully entered the gathering at different places to make it look like we were separate. "How've you been doing these past few days? Are you holding up in the snow?"

"Oh, it's nothing I haven't faced before," the woman said, dropping some sort of spice into the boiling brew. "As long as I've got some good, hot food, the chill will never get into my bones."