As soon as I stepped into the farmhouse, the smell of dung began to reach my nose. I could barely hold my nose. Arwa had also noticed my situation but didn't say anything. A younger boy, who I thought was 8 or 9 years old, was cleaning the living space of the cow-like creatures. Instead of living space, you should have used the word barn. That's how unfamiliar I was with farm life. The boy was dirty, in shabby clothes, pale from not eating well and his cheeks were sunken. He had long been used to his miserable condition.
My heart sank when I saw his condition. Child labor was a part of life in this world. Arwa noticed my sadness and was a little surprised. The reason for her surprise was that she realized I wasn't used to this situation. Misery was an undeniable fact of this world. Except for a few privileged people, most everyone lived this way. Even memory loss couldn't explain these reactions. Anyway, we weren't here to visit, we couldn't keep the patient waiting any longer. The old woman said to the child in the most affectionate voice she could.
"My child, where is your mother? We came a long way to help your sister," Arwa said. When the child heard this, he didn't know what to say because of his excitement.
"Rerrr really? Hemm hemm I'll be right back. I'm going to call my mother." The child shouted and ran towards the house without waiting for an answer from us. There was nothing to examine about the farmhouse. I wanted to finish our business as soon as possible and leave. I didn't want to see the miserable life anymore. In order to feel better, I started thinking about the forest. Why was the forest so important? Why didn't the trees outside this forest emit a strange spiral mist? In the stories told to Arwa, it was called the forest of the gods. Could it really be the forest of the gods? I didn't find this idea logical. If gods really exist, they might find better places to live than the forest. They might even have their own palaces. Was the forest of the gods used for a meaning other than its original meaning? The more I thought about it, the closer I felt to the truth.
"Alek... Alek, are you okay?" the old woman said while shaking me with her hand.
"I'm fine Arwa. Why are you shaking me?" I said.
"My child, you got lost in thought. No matter how much I shouted, you didn't hear me. Or are you thinking of the girl of the house I told you about before? Hıı Hıı" the woman said in a slightly joking tone.
"Arwa, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't feel ready to get married yet. Besides, I was thinking of something else," I said. The woman looked at me as if she didn't believe what I said for some reason.
A stocky, overweight woman, around 35-40 years old, wearing a white-scarfed, floral-patterned brown apron and a white tunic came down the stairs of the house. She quickly came over to us.
"Welcome, Mother Arwa. May the gods always keep your wine glass full. You have come a long way. You must be both thirsty and tired. Our house is shabby, but it keeps it warm and protects it from the rain. Come inside," the woman said in a husky voice. Arwa did not want to talk much because she did not like the woman, she just nodded. She turned to me and said the following.
"My child, be careful when you climb the stairs. The stairs are slippery, I do not want you to fall and hurt yourself," she said.
While trying to understand what the old woman said, my foot slipped and I fell down the stairs. Nothing happened to me, but the basket in my hand fell to the ground and scattered everywhere, and when I got stuck in the muddy ground, I was covered in mud, including my hair. I could not get out of my unfortunate situation.