Everything after we left the room was a blur until we were on the outskirts of the town, sitting on the edge of a ditch, one of the “palm trees” shading us. Maybe she knew I wasn’t hungry because she’d only bought me a small sandwich to eat. Maybe she wasn’t hungry either, hers just as small.

We ate in silence like always, chewing, endlessly chewing, such a small sandwich taking so long to eat. It wasn’t too dry, had something a bit creamy inside—not exactly like butter, but maybe some kind of nut butter. I just had to chew so much before I felt like I could swallow it.

Once we finished, she fished out two metal cups from her bag. Not her backpack, this one maybe from the clothing shop, a fabric bag like a drawstring bag. She filled both cups with water and gave me one.

I sipped it slowly, appreciating how cool it was in the midday humidity. Cool, but not cold.

“That is it… the simple answer is that it was a word from the Haben people, who lived on the southern continent of Crisoa. It referred to people who come from the northern continent of Kroustoa, based on their word for sickly pale. As you understand, it is… not exactly a pleasant word to use.”

I listened, tapping my thumb against my finger as I did to keep from nodding. It was habit by now. Once she finished, I thought over what she’d said and then asked, “What is the not-simple answer?”

She chuckled, an empty laugh that turned into a sigh. “Well, it all began three millennia ago—three thousand years—when this island rose from the vast ocean and so a new goddess was born. People from both continents soon migrated here.

“From the south, most people came from Habere, which was a rather large country nearest to the new island. From the north, it is farther to reach the island and the people came from several different countries along the coast.

“However, it is… a difficult climate for those from Kroustoa. Their skin will quickly redden as if burned if out in the sun for long, yet their clothes were all made of fabric suited for their cooler climate. After a thousand years, those from Habere made up most of the people living on the island, while those from Crisoa were mostly traders and merchants and people of wealth who wished to avoid the harsh winters of home.

“So it came to be seen by the Haben descendants that those from Kroustoa were a certain kind of people. That they were devoted to money, strict over trifling details, and flaunted their wealth—to give the important points. One book I read even said that the word was originally an insult they gave to other Haben people who were obsessed with money, as if saying they were infected with Krousten greed.”

Certainly, that was a less simple answer. A believable answer. The sort of thing that probably happened in my world, that I think had happened…. Then I caught something she’d said. “That was two thousand years ago?” I asked.

After a pause, she said, “Yes.”

“A long time ago.”

Silence for a while as the wind picked up, branches swaying above. A cool breeze that felt wonderful on this muggy day. Looking up, I saw some hints of clouds in the distance.

“It is… the nature of history to believe that the chain of people between them and the events wrote, if not the truth, then at least a good attempt at the truth. Even between us, you do not know what I have read, yet you are trusting me to be truthful. That said, what I have told you so far is, in all likelihood, the truth.

“Now, this matter is something that… I can believe has been misrepresented. That, if you were to ask an educated person from Crisoa, they would tell you a different history. The truth would not even necessarily be what either of us says nor something in-between.”

She paused there, taking a sip of water.

“Two millennia ago, this land was governed by Habere, they the ones who collected taxes and such. There was… trouble. The climate here could grow cheap food and things not common in Kroustoa, so the merchants made a lot of money. They even paid the farmers more to ensure they could buy more of the harvests. However, this meant the price of food rose in Habere and the Haben merchants who came here began to go out of business.

“That is, as I understand it, the… wood for the fire. What happened next is unclear. Taxes were raised, farmers were pressured to not sell to Krousten merchants, or so has been written. All I can say for certain is that merchants’ buildings were eventually attacked and their ships were set alight in the docks, killing two crews of forty.

“In response, several Krousten countries formed a coalition”—I thought that was the right word, how she described it reminding me of history lessons—“and… invaded the island. A few thousand died, mostly Haben people and those of Haben descent. Habere hadn’t expected a war, so there were no soldiers, only militias.” Pretty sure that was the right word too.

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“In the end, the coalition made a new government for the island. Its purpose is to ensure that merchants can bring goods to Kroustoa. While they might say that is no longer the real purpose of the government here, exports are still a vital part of the economy…. Forgive me, I am digressing,” she said, ending with a sigh.

It was a lot to take in and not at all simple. Honestly, it triggered memories of colonialism. Was that just because she was white? After all, what she had told me—was that enough to say it was like what happened in my world?

While I wasn’t doing a good job of thinking over that, she gathered her thoughts and finished her lesson.

“I am sure this government is not perfect; however, I do not believe it to be cruel or unfair. Regardless of their heritage, people live freely. There are certainly valid criticisms to be made and it can be said us of Krousten descent still benefit unduly from the labouring of the Haben descendants, but the peace that has settled here… I do not think it is an oppressive peace.”

My head pounded, difficult to keep up with all the complicated words she used. Not an easy topic. Notions of right and wrong, entwined with the history lessons I had burned into my memory.

The simplest answer I could come to: If she could walk around without worry, how bad could it be? Even Driddle, no, Mrs Frinchen, she used the “S word”, but had let Hyraj rent the room, so she couldn’t have hated Krousten people that much.

Anything more than that, I didn’t know enough to say….

“Do you still want to stay there?” she asked, whispered.

Pulled out of my thoughts, I had no answer. Even after a few seconds, there was just this block in my head, torn between how much I didn’t want to see Mrs Frinchen again and how determined I was to try and “grow up” and not rely on Hyraj. Because, if not there, where would I live?

It took a long few seconds for a realisation to hit me. Slowly, I turned to look at Hyraj, saw her face that still gave nothing away. “How are you?” I softly asked.

She smiled that tiny smile of hers. “If you are worried for me, there is no need. I am quite used to such things.”

“Used to it… that means it still hurts, you just don’t show it?”

Even if I could talk to her in English, I wouldn’t have had to right words to say, so I hadn’t bothered to think it out. Well, I actually wanted to say “it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt”, but remembered that it would have come out meaning “it really doesn’t hurt”; I didn’t know how to say that yet, still not great with the nuances of her language.

She didn’t react, but she didn’t speak right away either. Another pause, then she said, “Indeed.”

It took me a moment to realise what that meant—that she was agreeing with what I’d said. And I wished I knew how to comfort her. I wanted to give her a hug, but doubted she would be comfortable with that. I wanted to say something, but I had already said the important bit, nothing else to say.

Something small and reasonable, I reached over to pat her hand. She didn’t pull away. Nothing showed on her face, but I hoped it helped—a little.

Looking at her, it all became stupid. My “growing up”. What was the point of not being a burden for her if I hurt her to do it? Like, this wasn’t a choice. I couldn’t want to be her friend and then live with that family.

“Should we go back to… Tea and Biscuits?” I asked, barely managing to remember the tavern’s name.

Before she answered, a gust blew by and it was cold enough to make me shiver. She turned to where it had come from. “Let us see if my job cannot move me up,” she said, talking more to herself than me. “It would be a shame if a storm stopped me from attending work.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so said nothing. She had nothing else to say either, so she stood up, then helped me up, and we set off back to the far side of the village.

It was a long walk, then a long-ish wait while she went inside. I tried not to think. Right now, I wasn’t going to think anything worth thinking about. Every thought tried to upset me. So I pushed them out, watching the sky, spotting distant clouds. Dark clouds that spanned the whole horizon.

When Hyraj finally came out, she had a soft smile and, stopping in front of me, showed off a pair of keys. “Let us collect our things,” she said.

“Okay.”

I still couldn’t trust my thoughts the whole way back, my emotions a tangled mess. Relief at having a place to stay, worry over what Mrs Frinchen would say about me breaking my word, anxiety from sort of going backwards, back to being her “pet” that followed her around for food and a place to sleep. None of it really made sense, so I tried to ignore them as they came up. It was just that, the quieter a place, the louder any sound rang out.

Arriving at the Lurchen & Frinchen residence, we stopped.

“I shall go in and explain things,” she said, then strode in.

So busy fighting my thoughts, I didn’t really react until it was too late. Or not too late, but Hyraj was already talking to Mrs Frinchen, a very forced smile on the woman’s face. Then Hyraj was inside, Mrs Frinchen standing in the open doorway.

She looked over at me.

I didn’t know what Hyraj had told her, but her expression now wasn’t as sweet as I was used to. It almost hurt. She was an adult and she was disappointed in me, and that hurt. Didn’t matter that I knew I shouldn’t care about disappointing her.

Maybe… I should have?

That thought took hold of me and wouldn’t let go, pushing me to walk forwards, just a few steps to get from the road to the door.

“Guess I was wrong ’bout you,” she said. Not, like, harsh or angry, but disappointed. The tone teachers liked to use.

It nearly worked too, made me freeze up for a second, but then the anger melted me. A cold anger that made me want to cry more than scream or shout. “Hyraj has nothing but kind to me. She give me so much and hate me do anything for her. But you use that S word, and you talk like you know her, but you do not. You don’t not know her.”

I said it quietly, softly, almost like I was pleading with her to change her mind. Almost, but not.

Before she could reply—if she was even going to—Hyraj was back, backpack slung off her shoulder. She walked through and took my hand and started walking, tugging me forward. There was only time for one last glance at Mrs Frinchen.

But I didn’t look at her, looked forwards instead at Hyraj and pushed my legs a little faster, coming to walk at her side.