Eira froze for a moment but then turned back to look at who was behind her. There was a boy around fifteen years old, his long ragged hair a shade between blond and yellow, panting heavily with hands on his knees and facing down.
"Where did he go?" The sounds of various shouts and feet were drawing near. Hearing this, the boy suddenly looked up, his crimson eyes meeting Eira's. He had a look of desperation and a silent plea on his face.
For once she felt a unique familiarity, but she couldn't tell. And unknowingly her hand lifted and her finger pointed towards her shack.
The boy paused momentarily, then nodded and quickly ran over to the shack. Though he carried a bag, only now did Eira see his back with fresh blood stains. The boy stepped into the shack, shutting the door behind him, casting one last look at her.
Eira quickly turned back, leaned against the wall, and pretended to look at the sudden ruckus in the street with a worried and startled expression. She saw a few other faces over the walls and from the windows. The shouts grew louder and the street got brighter as the men passed past her.
Suddenly one of them halted, following him, and a few others stopped too. These men had a fierce and tenacious look on their faces. "Lass, you saw a boy pass by? "
Her heart pounded in her chest, her eyes blinking rapidly and sweat forming on her forehead from this sudden unexpected, and unwanted attention. The man was near, the flames of his torch flickering on Eira's face. With a wavering yet convincing voice she spoke," I'm sorry, but I just stepped out now and didn't see anyone running past—only the noble guards."
"Damn! The rat is slippery." the man muttered. He then turned and left, his men following behind. A sudden coolness swept over her face and she sighed a breath.
"In the shack."
All the men paused at once. "In the shack", the voice echoed again.
"Who said that?" one of the guards questioned.
All the guards snapped their heads around, scanning in all directions. Suddenly, one of the guards pointed toward an old woman seated on a wooden chair on the balcony of the house just in front of Eira's house. The old woman was sitting side-faced with a stern look, watching the distant shimmering of the lights at the center plaza.
All the guards whipped their heads toward Eira in unison and then at the shack, at the corner of the wall.
Eira's eyes widened and a chill went down her spine. She clenched her shawl, and her legs shook.
The guard reached her again. "Say lass, you didn't see anyone?"
Eira stuttered, "I swear ...sir... I saw none but thy."
"Well then, let's weigh the worth of your swear," the guard said with a slow, taunting drawl.
The guard gestured to one of his men. Without hesitation, a soldier from his right stepped forward, strode to the back gate, and fumbled with the latch. "It's locked." the soldier said after a while.
"Lass, open the gate." the guard commanded.
Eira found this as an opportunity, "I have to offend the noble guards but I don't possess the key".
"Is that so? Don't worry, my men are more than capable of handling minor inconveniences."
"Harun" the guard called out.
The soldier nodded. He took a step back and then leaped over the wall. He landed with a thump beside Eira. The thump caused Eira to flinch, her breath hitching as she instinctively took a step back. The soldier glared at her and made his way to the shack.
The guards outside were looking in anticipation as the soldier entered the shack. While all Eira could think of was how horrible of a day it was to be alive. Her thoughts swirled through her mind, maybe she could say the boy threatened her. No, she didn't have the heart for that. Then what? Accept that she hid him. The guards would drag her and lock her up in those gruesome dungeons under Halsa's palace. Not to mention Bateli.
There were sounds of rummaging in the shack now—furniture scraping against the floor, objects being overturned, the occasional thud of something heavy being tossed aside. Eira clenched her fists, her breath shallow as she waited for the inevitable.
"The rat is struggling." a few of the guards sneered hearing all the noise from the shack.
After a while, the soldier returned. "Nothing" he muttered.
All the soldiers looked at each other. They had a look of sudden frustration and confusion on their faces. All the soldiers and the guards turned their heads toward the old woman.
The guard called out, "Say, old woman, there's nothing in the shack."
The woman still had a stern face, her gaze fixed on the distant shimmering lights. She spoke in an agitated tone, " It's in the sack and how dare you call me an old woman."
"Sack?" the soldiers talked among themselves. "Did she say sack or shack? ", there was a commotion between the soldiers. Eira was startled too. Why was there no one in the shack? Did he already escape?
A girl around ten appeared beside the old woman, holding a sack. "I couldn't find your teeth in this sack, here find it for yourself". The little girl said.
"You good for nothing little brat." the old woman snapped.
All the soldiers and guards looked at each other stupefied. "So this hag was calling for her sack and not the shack? "
"Damn, if not for this old wretch we would have caught that rat today."
"Aagh! he's sure got the luck of a devil!".
"Quick! he mustn't have gotten far."
There was all sorts of talk between the soldiers.
The head guard took the lead and commanded, "Quick, split, and search. We must find that rat today."
Eira felt a huge relief as the soldiers left running, cursing all along. Just then the soldier beside her called out, " Chief!". All the soldiers and the chief guard halted. Eira felt her heart sinking again. Although the soldier had his visor, Eira could see his huge grin, sending shivers down her spine.
"What is it Harun? " the chief guard asked.
The soldier hesitated, then spoke with a clear tone, "Well chief there is a nice broth, cooking here. Do you mind if I join the party after my supper? I skipped my lunch today."
The guard made an ugly expression, "We know your suppers, Harun."
A few of the soldiers chuckled. "Be quick!" the guard said.
The soldier beside Eira bowed down, "I will, Chief" he said mockingly.
The guard left with the soldiers following beside him.
Though the soldiers were gone, unease still clung to Eira. The soldier beside her remained, his gaze lingering—watchful, scrutinizing, as if peeling away her every layer.
Only when all the soldiers were out of sight, did the soldier break the silence, "Serve me the broth lass."
She hesitated for a moment, swallowing her unease, then walked toward her shack to fetch a spare wooden bowl—she wouldn't dare use Bateli's.
As she stepped inside, she expected to see the mess left behind by the soldier. And it was exactly that—cupboards wide open, clothes and utensils scattered all over, chairs overturned. But what she didn't expect was the sight in the middle of the room.
Her breath hitched. Lying on the floor, completely naked and unconscious, was a tall and broad middle-aged man.
Her mind reeled. If he was here, then...She raced out of the shack.
The boy had already removed the helm, his hair blowing in the cool night air, his crimson eyes meeting Eira's, and a big smile on his face.
Eira stood in disbelief, until the boy spoke sheepishly, "The broth's smell is making me impatient, would you mind sharing some ? "
Eira let out a low, "hmm" and entered the shack again, bringing a wooden bowl and a short stool with her. Eira sat beside the stove, and the boy on the stool, adjusting his body with the heavy armour, on the stool. Eira opened the lid, the aroma of the herbs filling the air, she stirred the broth for a while and then served the broth to the boy. Her mind filled with a million questions and so she asked, "How....".
"All after once I have eaten." the boy interrupted. Eira gave him a look. And so she filled her own bowl.
She lifted her gaze to the sky. Days in these deserts were harsh. But nights were cool and serene and offered a beautiful sky with all the stars. And tonight, the air carried the scent of distant spices, drifting from lands beyond the Zamitrais, mingling with songs in tongues as old as Murkish-abb-Damyen, the distant shimmering lights. All for the lord of this city-Halsa.
The boy set aside his bowl, "Delicious." he said in a calm and satisfied tone.
He stood up and removed all the armor of his body, then his blood-stained tunic. Only now did Eira see all the scars, and blood oozing out of a few fresh ones.
"You're bleeding," she said worriedly.
"Not a big deal, happens all the time," the boy said smiling. He went to the shack and returned with a leather backpack. He set the bag on the stool and scrabbled it. After a while, he pulled out some bandages and a bottle of antiseptic.
He poured the antipoetic over the bandages and wrapped them all over his body, covering the scars and cuts. Then he pulled out a fresh red tunic that matched his eyes and wore it. He stuffed the stained garments, the bandages, and the antiseptic back into the back and buckled it.
"You sure do carry a lot of stuff," Eira remarked.
"Stuff that often gets me in trouble." the boy sneered.
"Are you a thief," Eira asked
"Ain't we all," he said with a smile.
"I am not," Eira said in a mild annoyance. The boy laughed at this.
"Then who are you?" the boy asked.
"I am ... I ... don't know."
"You don't know? You seem like a servant girl."
"I am not a servant girl," Eira retorted, her voice firmer than she expected.
The boy raised an eyebrow, amused. "Then what are you?"
Eira opened her mouth, but no words came. She faltered, gripping the edge of her shawl. What was she, really? A girl who scrubbed floors, cooked meals, and took orders—yet not a servant? A girl who belonged to no one, yet had no freedom of her own?
"I am not a servant girl...but a girl being treated like one." she slightly chuckled.
The boy laughed too, "You sure are an interesting one. Tell me your story."
"Story?"
"Story of your life."
"I don't much have a story. And even if I do, why shall I tell you."
"Now I want to know more. Tell yours and I will tell mine."
"You first, then maybe I will consider."
He laughed. "Well then, I am a thief. An orphan. I roamed these streets naked until I found someone like me. My only friend. Since then, we've built, traded, stolen—done whatever it takes to survive. Soon enough we figured out, that stealing from the stealers was the most profitable. And so we did, stole from shops, merchants, nobles, and this time from Halsa."
Eira gasped upon hearing the name Halsa, "Is that why all the guards were chasing you?"
The boy nodded. "Well, that's pretty much my story. Now, keep your word. If I ever get caught, I will also report your name and say that you helped me in hiding," he teased.
Eira panicked for a moment, but when she saw him laughing, she forced herself to relax. Maybe it was just a joke—or maybe he actually meant it. Either way, she had little choice now.
"Alright then," she said, exhaling. "Here's mine."
And so, Eira began.
At first, she was reserved, her words measured and cautious. But as the boy listened, nodding and humming in interest, something shifted. The barriers she had built, the silence she had grown used to, began to crack.
Why wouldn't they? The thoughts she had always kept to herself, the small grievances, the quiet complaints—who had ever been there to hear them?
But now, there was someone.
And so, the words poured out, raw and unfiltered, untouched by the careful restraints of a guarded mind.
A cool breeze whispered through the night, rustling the leaves. The stars shimmered above, casting their distant light. And beneath that vast sky, a girl spoke, and a boy listened.
Eira finished.
The boy was facing away from Eira, the fire still burning on the stove casting flickering shadows on his face. He had a grave look on his face. His fists clenched hard.
"No story huh," he whispered.