Hatchings of Strife
Writen by Eli Smith
It was a hot and sour sunny summer day in the middle of Junnn, the cicadas were buzzing to the tune of crunching grass as sweltered workers dragged piles of hay across long unkempt pathways that surrounded the fields and fields of wilted crops, that were being left to dry in preparation. The town square was quiet, piles of hay bales and half-built stalls lined the outsides of shops and alleyways. As the evening sun sets the Nightcrows leave their burrows and begin circling and singing, a collective sigh spreads along the voices of animals and humans alike, another day behind, another cool dim night of work ahead.
“Sweety, dinners ready!” A sharp voice interrupted Serlya’s journaling.
As they headed downstairs the heat from the wood stove brushes over them like warm blankets being wrapped around a foal. The dinner table was set with a few day-old loaves of bread and some fresh potato and carrot soup. As the two sat down to eat the stove popped and crackled in the humid air, filling and infusing the bread with a slightly burnt and ashy aroma. The soup was soft and creamy, slightly bland but still smelling deeply of autumn air and home. I breathed in the steam, smiling as I did.
“I assume you like it then, with that big smile.” Serlya’s mother spoke with tired and droopy eyes.
“Mhm!” Serlya exclaimed.
They continued eating, listening to the crackling fire and the solemn crows.
Serlya awoke to the sun rising above the low hills to the west, barely starting to singe the rooftops of the small city. They dressed in a light cloth dress and meandered their way to the front door, grabbed a piece from the loaf of bread, and waved goodbye to their mother before walking out the door and along the tire-track-riddled road towards town. A soft breeze flung loose dirt into the air as the workers staggered into their huts, they rest soon after the day begins to avoid the beatings gifted upon the residents through the sun's rays.
As Serlya walked along the path, they heard a pattering of footsteps behind them. As they turn a warm hand rests on Serlya’s shoulder, looking up they see the smiling face of an old mage. Serlya continues walking. The mage stares after them for a few seconds before going into a short sprint to catch up to Serlya.
“How's it going, old man?” Serlya spoke.
“Just the usual, sneaking up on you and the like. Have you found someone to go to the festival with yet?” The mage replied, dismissing Serlya’s slightly annoyed tone.
“I might consider it once you stop asking me so much, Ex.” Serlya scoffed. They kicked a rock off the pathway as it turned from dirt and leaves to sandy gravel.
“You know, I’ve got someone in mind whom you would probably like. They are visiting for the next few days as far as I know.” Ex smiled softly, content with once again dismissing Serlya’s arguing.
Serlya stops and turns to Ex as they reach the first of many barns on the outside of the town. “I don’t care, I’ve told you a hundred times that I don’t need or want your help. You’re all the friend I need.”
***
Ex smiled. “Well I might as well just leave you to it then, you know what friends you want more than I do,” They stretched their arms upward and yawned. “Be safe and have a good festival. I’ll find you there so don’t worry about not getting to see me.” They turned away and marched off into the distance back towards the fields.
Serlya found themself in a peculiar situation, there was no way to decide, either a luscious fruit salad or a delectable squash and potato brunch. After many seconds of thought, they decided to get the salad, not because it was healthier, just because it was their favorite food and the best of the best from this humble little cafe with an old clerk and a nice pumink colored kitten. As they sit down and wait for their food to arrive they took in the scenery, it was a rare sight to see the streets lined with something other than nothing. For such a seemingly bright place given its name, Songplume, most of the residents were senile and couldn’t care less about you or the space around them. It was only like this once a year, when some bright, over-the-top twenty-year-olds put together the most over-dramatic yet surprisingly heartwarming summer festival.
The hot air seeped through the door, the fruit salad was wet and soft, and the kitten was meowing insistently at the clerk behind the counter, waiting for milk and snacks. The lack of noise penetrated the mind like a buzzsaw, it feels like it erodes your brain whenever you hear it. The sun was now high above the little town, any creature that was braving the early morning heat was burrowed far beneath the crisped layer of topsoil. Serlya finishes the salad and lifts themself to their feet. The kitten had dozed off and was sprawled across one of the tables lining the windowed wall, soaking in the light. After giving the cat a little scratch under the chin they braised themself and entered the outside. They walked along the sides of the buildings as much as possible as they tried to stay in the shadows. After a few minutes, they reached an alleyway that was mostly clear of squash and wood. They sat down and waited. They waited for what felt like hours. Someone in what looked to be royal clothing sprinted towards Serlya, they tried to stop but tripped over a stray gourd and fell face-first to the ground.
“AAHhhh! Damn it!” The person clothed in royal silks rolled onto their side and clutched their knee.
“Uh, are you okay!? Why are you running in a place like this?” Serlya jumped up and rushed over to them.
“I… am fine. Just a lit- ow, little scratch. Don’t mind me.” They try to stand but only manage to stagger over to the alley wall before lowering themself to the ground.
“Are you a royal?” Serlya asked as they sat next to the person.
“Yeah, not sure why that matters though.” They respond, taking deep gasps of air.
“Oh, uhh, just wondering. You don’t see many rich folks around here, or kids.” Serlya was a bit embarrassed and taken aback, they had never met a royal before, and was worried about being mean.
The royal smiled and chuckled. “Well I won’t be staying long, so you can get back to your normal life in a few days.”
The royal stumbled back to their feet, took a small bow, and walked back the way they came. Serlya watched them disappear into the sprawl of buildings with a deep feeling of curiosity and nostalgia. They didn’t quite recognize the royal but they acted like an old friend. Without a second thought, Serlya jumped up and headed towards the town square where the festival was being set up. They wanted to clear their mind a little, and see if they could snag some free food for helping out.
***
