Session 3 - Household Troubles

8 Wandwind 850

The guards woke Talik earlier than usual. Still sleepy, the boy did not immediately understand what they wanted from him. It turned out that since Talik no longer needed crutches, he was now supposed to have breakfast with everyone else in the dining hall. At the mention of breakfast, his stomach growled plaintively. Without taking the time to wash, Talik put on his clothes and ran towards the building where the dining hall was located. But only a moment later, he heard a voice:

“Don’t run, boy. Running isn’t allowed here.”

Turning around, Talik saw a guard who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and was now staring at him with a frown. After apologizing, the boy continued at a brisk walk. His leg no longer felt as if it belonged to someone else, like it had yesterday. The dining hall greeted him with the smell of hot food, the quiet murmur of voices, and Ratt Mossen’s booming laughter. He was in charge here. It was Ratt who gave Talik his “assigned chores,” so Talik had to speak with him every day. And it was not very pleasant. He was often rude and could start shouting the moment he saw him. Yet he was always cheerful when talking to everyone else. Just not to Talik.

Grabbing a plate of food, the boy plopped down in the nearest empty seat and plunged his spoon into the fragrant porridge. Talik already came here for lunch every day, but he had never seen so many people here at once. Several times he felt like moving to a corner so he would not bother anyone, but when he finally decided to do so, he realized that he was sitting in front of an empty plate—he had eaten everything without even noticing.

After placing his empty plate with the other dirty dishes, Talik headed towards the kitchen, where he could hear Ratt’s voice. Talik had to wait several minutes before Ratt Mossen paid any attention to him. His face twisted into such a grimace that his large nose seemed even bigger:

“What do you want? No seconds!”

Talik became somewhat flustered, as until now someone had simply told him what he needed to do:

“Well… Chores… Assigned…”

Ratt’s grimace deepened:

“What chores? Can’t you see breakfast isn’t over yet? Is it really so hard to remember that you’re only useful around here when it’s time to clean up? The gods really blessed us with you… I’d like to show your mother what kind of helper she raised, though I suppose she already knows!”

Ratt turned his back on him and resumed his conversation with the others. Talik had not been prepared for such a reaction. He stood there for a little while longer, but Ratt said nothing else, so the boy simply headed for the exit. On the way to his room, Talik tried to remember what he had done wrong to make Ratt treat him this way. But as far as he could tell, Ratt had behaved like this from the very beginning.

Near his room, one of the guards intercepted the boy and sent him to help the other residents who were cleaning the grounds. He was immediately assigned to carry out the rubbish, and no one even shouted at him if he worked too slowly. Sometimes they even praised him. Gradually, the satisfaction of being given work distracted him from thoughts of his mother and Ratt Mossen’s words.

After the cleaning, his next “assigned chore” was helping Iskar Orten in the infirmary. Some tasks, such as emptying the rubbish from specific bins, had already become so familiar that Talik completed them without thinking. He also discovered that working here was much easier without crutches, since he no longer had to watch out for accidentally knocking into anything. The work ended so unexpectedly that Talik became somewhat flustered:

“Mister… Orten…”

The man, who was working with some papers at his desk, grunted without looking up:

“Master… Master Orten…”

Talik nodded and continued:

“Mister Master Orten, I’ve finished… Can I now…”

Still without looking up, Iskar Orten quickly interrupted him:

“If it isn’t about sheep, you may.”

Talik nodded again and headed for the exit. Near the door, the boy stopped. He could not decide whether he was supposed to return to the kitchen now or whether Ratt Mossen did not want to see him at all today. Then Iskar Orten’s voice came from behind him:

“You’re supposed to go to the kitchen now. Help clean up after breakfast.”

Talik returned to the dining hall with some apprehension. Breakfast had ended long ago. A few people were still moving tables around, but most of the cleaning had already been completed. This time Ratt Mossen said nothing. He simply waved towards the collected rubbish and returned to his work. Before, Talik could only carry one sack at a time. The crutches got in the way. Now the boy confidently grabbed a sack in each hand and headed outside. The work went quickly. Only once did Talik lose his grip on a sack. Some of the leftovers spilled onto the ground. The boy began picking them up with his hands, but then heard Ratt Mossen shout:

“How much longer are you going to be? I’ve got enough to do without you!”

Talik grabbed the sacks, shoved in everything he had managed to gather, and hurried away. When Talik returned for the last sack, he found Ratt Mossen standing by the door. The man remained silent while the boy picked up what was left. Only after Talik stepped across the threshold did he hear:

“Finally!”

The door slammed shut directly behind him. After disposing of the last of the rubbish, Talik went to the exercise yard. It was not yet lunchtime, so there should not have been many people there. When he arrived, almost all the benches were still empty.

Sitting down on a bench, he closed his eyes. The cold wind tried to slip beneath his clothes while the warm sun heated his skin. Just like in the pasture. He almost began purring with pleasure but remembered that he was not alone and opened his eyes. He did not feel like simply sitting there either, so he pulled back the edge of his sleeve, allowing the sunlight to fall upon the edge of his bracelet. He could not make little spots of reflected sunlight with it that way, but the sunlight itself played beautifully across the metal patterns anyway. His thoughts drifted from one thing to another until Talik remembered that Ratt Mossen had mentioned his mother. And he had not merely mentioned her—he had wanted to show her something.

Several minutes later, he was back at the dining hall. He knocked carefully, but there was no answer. Talik waited a little and knocked again. Just as he was about to knock once more, the door finally opened. Ratt Mossen stood in the doorway. He looked Talik up and down and quietly asked:

“What?”

After a brief hesitation, the boy mumbled:

“You said you’d show my mother… Has she already come here? Or is she still coming?”

Ratt Mossen wiped his face with his sleeve and asked:

“She’s arrived? Where? Here?”

Ratt burst into loud laughter and slapped himself on the forehead.

Talik merely nodded, but Ratt began laughing even harder. Finally, after his laughter subsided, he continued:

“Looks like you haven’t got the slightest idea where you’ve ended up, boy. This isn’t just some gods-forsaken hole. It’s a casemate for fools like you who stuck their noses where they didn’t belong. Forget it. No one will ever find you here. Not her, not anyone else. I don’t know what wilderness you came from, but pray to all your gods that your mother stays there as long as possible and never ends up here.”

Those words struck Talik deeply. They were unpleasant, but Talik believed them. He believed that his mother would not come. And even if she did, they would not let her in. He ran outside, looking around. Talik did not understand what the word “casemate” meant, but all the other words seemed to pulse inside his head. His thoughts caused unbearable pain, as though someone were striking him over the head with a stone. Talik ran, smearing tears across his face. He did not choose where to go. His legs carried him on their own. After several metres, his foot slipped sideways, and Talik stumbled a few more steps before crashing down onto his knees. At that same instant, pain shot through his entire body and gathered in his left knee. When the boy looked at it, he did not immediately understand what had happened. The trousers over his left knee had become a mangled mess of fabric, with blood flowing from beneath it. Talik carefully lifted a piece of the torn cloth. His knee was covered in deep scrapes and blood.

Talik’s gaze travelled farther down his leg. His trousers were badly torn, and his footwear was smeared with leftovers. The boy turned around and saw the rubbish he had failed to clean up completely. The pain in his leg grew, intertwining with the pain in his chest that had appeared after Ratt Mossen’s words. The tears would not stop. Thoughts of his mother turned into memories of how she had always blown on his wounds to make them hurt less.

As if repeating her actions, Talik blew on his knee. The pleasant coolness brought relief. The pain in his knee receded. Talik wiped away the blood with his fingers and froze in astonishment. Before his very eyes, the wound began to disappear, and within seconds it had healed completely. Talik’s first instinct was to run. He tried to stand, though he did not succeed immediately. Talik looked around without understanding why. Swaying slightly, he trudged towards his room. A strange sense of exhaustion spread through his body.

Near the building where his room was located, he saw two guards. Elvar Morren stood beside them. When Talik approached, the guards seized him by the arms, and the senior overseer said:

“Don’t resist. Master Orten is already waiting.”