Zack
Zack woke early, the soft rays of the morning sun creeping through the tattered curtains of their room. He stretched his arms above his head, muscles protesting against the abrupt movement after a night of restless sleep. Groggily, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced over at Morwen. Her peaceful slumber was undisturbed, her chest rising and falling with each even breath.
Taking the opportunity to freshen up, Zack rose from his bed and made his way to the small wash basin nestled in the corner of the room. The water was cold, as he splashed it on his face. He reached for the clean clothes he had purchased the day prior, the fabric still carrying a hint of a musty smell from the shop.
After pulling on his boots, Zack ventured downstairs. The wooden stairs creaked slightly with each step as he descended into the bar area. His nose was met with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the faint aroma of wood polish. The barmaid, a blonde-haired woman with kind eyes, paused in her task of wiping down the tables to greet him.
"We have porridge or fried hash for breakfast if you're hungry," she said, her voice gentle and melodic.
"I think I will take two plates of hash, never cared for porridge," Zack replied with a grateful smile.
The barmaid nodded in agreement and retreated to the kitchen. Left alone, Zack found a table and took a seat. The bar was mostly empty, the only sounds being the faint murmur of conversation from the kitchen and the occasional clink of dishes being washed.
Soon enough, the barmaid returned with two steaming plates of hash. The aroma wafted up, making Zack's mouth water. As Zack reached into his pocket for payment, he noticed a single strand of hair had escaped the barmaid's messy knot, cascading down beside her cheek. It swayed gently with each movement.
"Two coppers, please," she said, holding out her hand.
Zack handed her the coins, his fingertips brushing against the rough texture of her palm. She pocketed the coppers in her apron with practised ease before going back to her task of cleaning the tables. Zack watched her for a moment, before making his way back to their room.
While balancing both plates with one arm, he quietly opened the door with the other.
As he entered their sleeping quarters, the sight of Morwen made him chuckle to himself. She lay tangled in the covers, her eyelids fluttering as she hummed a gentle tune in her sleep. It was a melody that Zack recognized - a song his mother used to sing to them.
A small grin tugged at the corners of Zack's lips as he recognized the familiar tune. A sad song really, about a woman praying for her lover, fighting in a war. She prayed to the gods to bring her soldier home.
He gently shook her shoulder to wake her up. Peering up through squinted eyelashes, Morwen groaned, her head buried deeper into her soft pillow.
"Five more minutes," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow that now covered her face.
"If you don't get up, I'm going to eat your breakfast," Zack teased. "Don't want to let it get cold."
Morwen let out a half-hearted laugh and threw the pillow at his head, unimpressed.
Yawning, she stretched out her arms lazily before finally giving in to the day ahead. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.
Morwen shuffled towards the basin in the corner of the room. As the water ran down her face, Morwen closed her eyes, hoping the refreshing sensation would clear her mind. But instead, she was greeted with a peculiar vision. A pair of blue eyes stared back at her, their intensity sending a shiver down her spine. Shaking her head vigorously, she pushed the disturbing image from her mind, attributing it to a mere trick of her imagination.
Quickly regaining her composure, Morwen glanced at her reflection in the dusty mirror set beside the basin. Her new clothes, though slightly wrinkled from her sleep, were easy enough to slip on. She pulled her long black hair into a neat braid. Satisfied with her appearance, Morwen sat down beside her brother.
Zack handed her a plate of steaming food. Smiling inwardly, she was glad he was only joking about eating her breakfast. The food looked delicious, she noted inspecting her plate. The plate was a medley of sausages, potatoes, onions, and other vegetables, all diced into small pieces and fried to perfection.
Unable to resist any longer, Morwen took a bite, savouring the explosion of flavours as the food melted in her mouth. A contented hum escaped her lips, and within mere minutes, her plate was clean.
"How did you sleep last night?" Zack asked, his tone changing from jovial to serious.
"Alright," Morwen replied, keeping her reply vague. She did not want to share her strange dreams with her brother. He was already worried enough, and she didn't want him to think her any more insane than he already did.
Zack stacked their dishes on the bedside table, "I will take them back to the kitchens when we go to leave," he said in response to Morwen's raised eyebrows. She gave an approving nod.
"We need to make a plan," she began, her voice tinged with concern. "We abandoned the farm when we left. Maybe we should go back home?" She wasn't sure why they hadn't considered this before.
Zack's face darkened, his gaze shadowed. "There's nothing there for us, Mor. The village is destroyed, and we can't run the farm alone. It's just not safe."
"And you think being on the road with nowhere to go, and not much coin is safer?" Morwen shouted angrily at him.
"Look, we will find a way to survive. But the farm is gone, and I won't let you throw your life away because you think you owe it to mother and father."
"You think I'm just going to give up on our home, our family legacy, that easily? You're the one who's being selfish," she hissed, her anger getting the best of her.
Zack let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers rubbing his temples. "I'm not saying that, Mor. We can't afford to be selfish right now, and we have to face the fact that we're in danger if we go back."
"Maybe you're right," Morwen relented, her anger fading. She didn't want to argue with him.
"Of course, I'm right," Zack agreed, his usual grin returning.
Their words hung in the air. Feeling a headache start to form, he kneaded his forehead with his fingers. He didn't have a better option, racking his brain for ideas. Their father often travelled, selling goods and trading with other villages. When he came home from each journey, he would tell stories of the places he went.
"If we keep heading northeast, we will reach the tribe of the river," Zack's mind flickered with fragments of his fathers animated tales. "Do you remember father's stories?"
The tribe of the river was a collection of villages nestled along the Gaare river that led to the sea. It would take a couple of days before they reached the tribe. Morwen agreed it was the best place to go. The river people were known to be very welcoming to outsiders. Their father had come home with a pearl for each of them. The pearls were smooth dainty black beads; he told Morwen how they had come from inside oyster shells.
He had said it was a tradition for the river tribesmen to collect and wear them. Morwen smiled at the memory, her fingers softly caressing the pearl that hung on a delicate chain around her neck.
"What will we do once we're there? We have no coin, and no home. And the winter months are approaching fast." Morwen wondered aloud.
Zack thought for a moment, trying to find a solution to their predicament. He knew their money wouldn't last forever, but maybe they could earn some coin.
"Let's not worry about that just yet," he finally said, his voice confident and reassuring. "We will figure it out."