In the morning, the young man opened his eyes. He groaned. His body was weak from a year of sleeping, from a year in a coma. He felt for the sword by his waste and noticed it was in poor shape. He felt the brown rust grate against his pale, dark green skin. He looked around and noticed a woman, but what surprised him was that she was pregnant.
He knew it wasn't his child, but her presence upon waking up puzzled him. His once lean and sturdy limbs now felt soft. His muscle mass dropped. He struggled to get up from the ground. He barely stood. He had to claw and grab at the bamboo poles to get up. His gaze turned sharp before softening. He hung his head against the door, while he rested against it. The bamboo hut was dark, but enough light fell through the cracks for him to get a look at the woman's features.
She had a strong chin that suited her well, and her nose was thin and did not protrude much. He noticed that her skin was a light green. He wondered what she was doing in the highlands, because the lowland people had weaker noses and stronger chins. He noticed that she was restless in her sleep. She tossed and turned and groaned. But, her hand never left her belly.
He sighed. He thought to himself, "If she wasn't pregnant already, I might fancy her."
Nevertheless, he sat down at the edge of the hut with his back to the poles and his gaze towards the floor. He exhausted himself with the mere act of standing. He turned his attention to the figure of the woman that was tossing and turning in the hay. He waited for an hour. His stomach started to rumble to the point of audible noises. He sighed and thought about the situation he was in. He thought about his parents. He thought about his mother. He thought about his future...
The woman woke up. She made a short gasp and proceeded to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. She smacked her lips for a bit. And finally, she turned her eyes to the hay beside her and noticed the young man was gone. This dazed her.
The young man thought this amusing and decided to speak, until she turned her head over and said, "You're Awake!"
"Yes, I'm very much awake," he said.
"What a relief," she said.
This touched him: it was rare for people to show genuine concern for him, especially since he was a Black-cloth.
He said, "Eli, my name is Eli."
"Rachel," she said, "My name is Rachel."
She appeared to be at a loss for words for the next few moments, and he Eli watched her state of confusion with a hint of glee. It had been a while since someone's presence amused him so much, much less a commoner's presence.
"Where are we?" he said.
"Little Vicious Village," she said, "It's not as bad as it sounds. There's plenty of fish, and the people never went hungry."
"Did they go hungry where you grew up?"
She was silent for a while then said, "Well, yes..."
He pondered her situation, and then he came to a small conclusion about his situation.
"Did you save me?" he said.
"Yes," she said, "You were asleep for a year."
"Thank you," he said, "I'm sorry to say I have nothing to give in return."
"Don't worry about it," she said, "I'm aware of your kind's situation, the situation of a Black-cloth, I mean."
He made a self-deprecating smile and said, "Again, thank you."
She said, "You're welcome."
They returned to silence for a while, until she said, "Oh! You must be hungry. Let's go get something to eat."
He nodded his head in agreement and struggled to get up from his sitting position. He turned over and placed his hands on the bamboo sides once more and clawed his way to the to a standing position.
She noticed his struggle to get up and frowned. The frown went away just as quick as it appeared, because she resolved herself to something. She picked herself up by throwing her weight to her legs. She staggered a bit, but the forty-five degree angle of the hay pile allowed her to stand. She grabbed his hand and led him out the door. He leaned against her shoulder and did his best to pull his own weight, while the two surveyed the remains of village.