"Giona…"
"Huh?"
With a renewed spark of joy within her eyes, Giona copied Dama’s introduction and pointed to herself. "Giona..."
"Giona? Is… Is that your name, miss? Hm, why does that sound so familiar…” Dama said as he grasped at his chin before perking up. “Aha, I remember! Like the first witch in history, Giona Tamaki, from the fairytale: Tales of the Cataclysm! Your parents must have been fans of the story!"
Getting somewhat excited at the sudden progression he had made with a possible ice breaker, Dama was met with yet another awkward pause waiting for Giona's answer, who merely tilted her head to the side in confusion.
"Pa...wets?"
"Ah..." A floored Dama said out loud. Looking back up at a confused Giona, he couldn't help but ponder. "Guess she doesn't know the book… But to not know her own parents? Something's fishy... And if her name really is Giona, being named that can't be a coincidence…"
As Dama continued to think, his thoughts would soon be disrupted by Mumu setting something flat upon his head. Taking the object off his head, Dama realized it was the very same book.
Hearing the name of the fairy tale, Mumu retrieved the tale from the bookshelf, anticipating the moment to hand it over to Dama.
"Thank you, Mumu!" Dama expressed his gratitude before placing the book down beside Giona. "Hey, Giona, this is what I was referring to. It's my favorite story, to the point I've probably read through its pages a hundred times by now. Does this ring a bell for you? If it doesn’t, shake your head sideways like this for 'no,' and nod like this for 'yes,' alright?"
Giona looked at the book, her eyes fixed on its unfamiliar appearance. She couldn't decipher the strange symbols etched onto the silver lined leather cover, and a look of puzzlement soon crossed her face. She ran her fingers over the raised bumps and grooves of the letters, trying to make sense of them.
Dama could see there was a mixture of curiosity and frustration growing within her expression, as if she sensed the significance of the object before her, but couldn't quite grasp it. Eventually, Giona looked up at Dama, seeking guidance, her pale brown eyes wide with a silent plea for understanding.
“Oh man, so reading is a no-go too… Guess I can assume she can’t write either, much less talk…" Dama mused inwardly, “Am… Am I going to have to teach her how? Jeez, I don’t even know where to start… Teaching someone my age basic skills they should've learned years ago... That's something I never imagined doing."
Starting to twist and turn whilst scratching his head again, Dama mulled over a way to teach Giona the basics of literacy. “Enohay Village has a school taught by Granny Tsubasa, but I can’t bring Giona down to the village in her current state. She could get overwhelmed by all the new words and people she’d meet. Not to mention having to explain where she even came from... It’s best I teach her to at least hold a simple conversation before anything else, but I still don’t know where to start… What to doooo?”
Witnessing Dama's unknowing, but amusing display yet again, Giona couldn't contain herself and faintly started to giggle. Giggles that slowly rose in volume, until she burst into a hearty, playful laugh. Laughs that were given an extra layer of playful charm by a mischievous "Dama!" As the room filled with her cheerful laughter, the once quiet and dull atmosphere became enveloped in a warming joyous mood.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Caught in the center as the laughing stock, Dama couldn't help but break into a genuine smile seeing Giona start to lighten up. “Well, it seems she picked up my name pretty fast, maybe teaching her won’t be as hard as I thought… Wait, that’s it!”
Jumping from his stool, Dama dashed to his desk, seizing a piece of paper and an inked feather pen. Hurrying back to Giona, he exclaimed, "Hey, Giona, check this out!"
Using the book in between them on the bed as a writing surface, Dama went to work writing both of their names. With slow and deliberate strokes, he inscribed "Dama" in bold letters, the ink flowing smoothly from his pen. Once done, he spelled out "Giona” right below his, making sure to craft each letter with care. Looking to see if Giona was watching, Dama smiled witnessing Giona's eyes light up at his demonstration.
“See this Giona? This is how you write, specifically our names! There’s ‘D-a-m-a’, spelling out my name, Dama! Below that is how you spell out your name, At least I assume… ‘G-i-o-n-a’, spelling out Giona! These things I put on this piece of paper are called ‘symbols’. When you sound them out, like I’m doing now, that’s called speaking. On the other hand, writing is like speaking, but through symbols you create using a tool of some kind instead of your mouth. Me and some others I know use symbols like these to describe a message we want others to know, without saying it out loud or even being near them. Pretty cool, right?”
Giona listened intently, captivated by the new information Dama gave. Intrigued by the concept of 'symbols,' she couldn't resist reaching out to touch the still-wet ink on the paper, still trying to make sense of it all.
“Oh, oops! Looks like you got a bit of ink on your finger there. It’s a liquid you can use to easily make the symbols. Without it, you’d have to carve them int–Gah! G-Giona!” Dama yelled as he saw Giona’s curiosity get the better of her, leading to the finger, dabbed in ink, approaching her outstretched tongue. Luckily, Dama’s shocked yells made Giona stop in her tracks, while also making her tilt her head in an innocent confusion.
"Phew, that was a close call–Ahem! Giona, ink isn't meant for your mouth; it can be bad for you… Though, that does remind me, neither of us have eaten since you woke up, and I bet you’re feeling hungry, right? No worries, I’ll prepare us some hot soup, it’ll both taste great and will help with your fever! We can practice writing when we’re done eating! Speaking of which, I’ll take the pen and paper with me… Just in case…” Dama said as he used his sweater to clean Giona’s finger.
Taking the utensils and returning them to the very same desk, Dama exchanged them for an oil lamp. He then proceeded his way toward a door leading to a lone separate room in the cabin, situated to the left of the main room. With a push from his left shoulder, the creaky door swung open, and he held the oil lamp aloft, casting its light into the dark and dusky space. Within the room, numerous crates, leather bags, and a slightly cracked cauldron came into view against the walls, illuminated by the lamp's glow.
Dama walked to the left wall where all the crates were in search for ingredients, “Now, where did I put all the produce I bought from Ms. Alder… Ah, there they are!”
Setting the oil lamp down to heave the selected crate’s lid open revealed an assortment of stored veggies, naturally preserved by the altitude’s chill. He selected the ones he deemed suitable for consumption and began placing them into the cauldron he used for cooking. Grabbing a worn knife from the wall, he was about to summon Mumu for assistance when...
"Knock knock knock" Abrupt knocks suddenly echoed throughout the cabin, catching everyone’s intention. Shortly after, a deep and gruff voice sounded from the other side of the front door, “Hello!? Dama? You in there buddy?”
To Giona, she obviously didn’t recognize it, but for Dama, that voice was all too familiar.
“M—M-Mr. Koul!?”
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Next: (Chapter 4) An Unexpected Visitor