Momo
The day dawns with a cool breeze and a coating of condensation that lays on top of the smooth grey stones making up the well. Momo turns the well-oiled crank on the side and watches for anything coming between the houses while she raises a new bucket of water. A door closes nearby. From the direction of the noise, it’s Allard’s back door. She tries to look everywhere but at his front door while she purifies the day’s water. He never came back out of his home the night before. Although he didn’t look angry, she is worried about him. Seeing his former friend had to be hard.
Footsteps lightly pad toward her, softened by the moist top layer of dirt. She nods at his whispered greeting and responds in kind, then takes his cup and purifies it before handing it back. They lean their backsides against the cold stone and sip their morning cup of clean water.
“I was thinking,” he begins, his voice low like he is sharing a secret, or asking permission for something he fears he will be denied. “Climbing up a ladder to get to a shooting spot isn’t very safe. What if attackers kick the ladder away and you are stuck up there?”
“Hmm,” she responds, setting her empty cup next to the bucket. “I can’t deny having that same thought.”
Allard pauses, and there is a hint of confidence in his words when he continues. “I’m not a carpenter, but I helped to build some of these houses when the village was being set up. The roofing tiles are attached to a solid understructure. I think I can make trapdoors in the houses so you can go up a ladder from the inside instead.”
“I can see that being quite an advantage. But what would keep them from leaking when it rains?”
“I have some ideas, but it shouldn’t be a problem if the tiles are arranged to hang over the line of the door. The water would want to keep going down.”
A gust of wind picks up his unbound hair and drags the pale blonde strands across his face. Momo studies him and his cheeks tinge with red as he looks away. “Alright,” she says finally with a nod. “Draw out your plans first, then you can try on House Six before doing it to your house. One for each compass point would be a nice thing to have. Can you make them lock up from the inside?”
Slender fingers rub on reddened cheeks, and Momo can’t stop the smile that comes out at his attempt to hide the proof of his embarrassment. “I already drew up some plans last night. I wanted to make sure I could make it work before bringing it to you. Today after you prepare the next section I can get started on one of them while you take a break. My part in the morning isn’t nearly as exhausting as yours. Even if you get enough mana back by this afternoon I will be fine to come keep an eye out for you!”
Momo bobs her head and combs her hands through her hair. I need a haircut soon, she reflects, looking through the houses in the direction of the nearest large town. It has already been a month since she arrived. She can’t quite believe it.
Allard’s hopeful gaze pulls her back and she nods again. “That sounds good. Let me know if there is anything I can do.”
The distinct pep in his step adds some energy to her own, and by lunch, they manage to finish the purified ring around the village. Momo credits it to Allard’s upbeat personality and points that out causing the elf’s ears to turn red. Do all elves blush this much, she wonders, smiling at the back of his head as she follows him back to the well. At least it isn’t as obvious as it was before. He looks a lot healthier now, not nearly as pale. Still pale, though. Why doesn’t he burn?
The question wiggles around in her head, and she eventually asks it while they lean against the well and sip the cool water. He laughs and answers, “Because we are children of the sun and the moon!” Momo blinks at him slowly, waiting for more, but Allard casually looks around content with his answer.
“Okay,” she says, drawing out the word slowly. She shakes her head with a smile. Wispy clouds cover the sky, long streaks like celestial cotton candy pulled overhead by some unseen hand. The heat of the week prior has ebbed, and though sweat still beads on her forehead from the mana drain and walking without rest, the air is not quite so stifling. “How much more do we have of summer?”
“Hmm,” Allard hums and his eyes go distant. “Summer solstice was a couple of weeks before-” He pauses, then shakes himself once. “Before everything started dying. So the weather will start getting cooler soon.”
After a short lunch of salad with beans prepped the night before, Allard heads back to his house to gather his plans and then off to start building the first trapdoor. Momo watches him go, making sure he is locked safely inside before heading home for a nice relaxing afternoon.
The relaxing comes easily. The chair is comfortable, and the stool she sets her feet up on is at the perfect height. She folds her arms across her chest and closes her eyes. A few minutes pass. Then she opens them again. She looks around the room, flaring her lips like a duck. Maybe I’m too tired, I should try to take a nap.
She pads into the bedroom, lays back against her soft pillow, and closes her eyes. A few more minutes pass. Then, she opens them again. “I’m not sleepy,” she mutters, flinging her arms out wide to her sides. The room is quiet, the air still. Despite the bedroom window leading out to the backyard garden, she nailed boards across it for safety the week before, and very little light leaks through now. She closes her eyes again, her body comfortable and ready to relax.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Her brain, however, is bored.
“What do people do to relax here besides lay around?” She asks the empty room. “No television, no radio, and if there are books they aren’t in this village.”
She sighs and stares at the ceiling tracing patterns on the boards with her eyes. Her lips jut out, then smoosh in, then contort into a variety of shapes that would have had her grandaughter collapsing with giggles when she was a child. But the boredom remains.
Heaving another deep sigh, Momo sits up and flings her legs over the side of the bed. Her shoes tap on the floorboards lightly, playing the beat to a song she remembers from her younger days. She wishes she could take her shoes off in bed, but not knowing when she will have to have them on to run makes them hard to remove for more than a few minutes.
“Maybe Allard left some drawing supplies out in the living room somewhere.”
Her feet move quickly into the outer room, and she smiles when she finds a blank sheet of paper and a charcoal pencil. Pulling her chair up to the table, she wiggles to get comfortable, then stands back up when she realizes she can’t see the paper clearly in the dimness of the closed-off house.
“No reason to light the lamp and waste fuel,” she whispers brightly. With a hearty push, the table slides across the floor and thumps against the wall beneath the windows, which she opens all the way after peeking out to ensure the immediate area is clear. The table is broad, and she has to lean across it to open the shutters. “Unless a biter throws itself through I should have plenty of time to react.”
The pencil glides across the paper with the barest of sounds. Momo frowns at the paper, her focus completely on the images appearing on the light yellow parchment. A few minutes pass, and she sets the pencil down and leans back in her chair. “Okay, so I have no artistic talent.” She glares at the amorphous blob that is supposed to be a flower. “Right, okay, maybe I’ll go check the garden.”
But the garden doesn’t need her. The soil is still moist from the morning watering, and the only things ready to harvest were picked at the beginning of the day. “Maybe I can just make some of these grow faster?”
A quick look at her mana bar dispels her of that notion. “Have I really not relaxed since I got here? And why am I talking to myself so much?”
She leans against the back of the house and frowns at the lively growth before her. We have relaxed every evening. She thinks, making sure to clamp her teeth together so she doesn’t speak aloud. Her eyes open wide, mouth going slack before she chuckles.
“Oh.”
Momo walks back through the house, checking to make sure everything is closed up tightly before grabbing her board and heading out.
Something blurry moves far out in the distance, right at the Eastern horizon line. She stands still for a moment after checking all open avenues and watches as the undefined thing seems to change shape ever so slightly. Certain that whatever it is is heading toward the village, she continues on to the test house.
A light tap on the door stops the muttering from inside, and the door opens just a crack to reveal Allard’s weary blue eye. “Something is coming. It’s pretty far out, I can’t see what it is.”
Allard opens the door quickly and waves her inside. “From what direction? I made the support frame and hatch for this roof, I think I can cut through to the outside in enough time if whatever it is is far enough out.”
Momo looks toward the construction area and feels the smallest hint of a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Allard hurries toward his work area, explaining quietly what each item is.
“Allard?”
He looks up, blinking rapidly as he abruptly stops talking. Momo feels her smile grow bigger. She hadn’t thought too much before about how most of their conversations were led by the unassuming elf before her. It’s no wonder the house was too quiet, she realizes.
“Thank you for being here. I don’t think I’ve expressed how much I enjoy your company. I know I’m not much of a conversationalist sometimes, but I enjoy being around you.”
Allard takes a deep breath and stands up straight, the very picture of confidence if one ignores the ruby flush creeping up his neck. “No, I- Thank you. No, I mean, thank you for letting me be around. I like being around you too.” His ramrod posture slumps and he offers a shy grin. “Do you want me to set up the ladder for you at my house? I was thinking, until the hatches are built, I could maybe go up with you and pull the ladder up with us. Then we can move it where you need to be able to get back down.”
“As long as you stay down and be careful up there,” Momo answers slowly, then nods confidently. “It might make it easier, sure. Of course, now that it’s been pointed out I just know the ladder will get knocked over by something and you’ll be stuck inside while I twiddle my thumbs up on the roof.”
Besides a brief moment when Allard slips getting off the ladder and onto the roof, they ascend smoothly enough. He seems embarrassed by his momentary lapse in grace and quickly pulls the ladder up behind them without meeting Momo’s eyes. The act of settling onto the peak is easier than the last time, and she sits down comfortably with her bow across her lap.
Allard belly crawls up the front slope until his forearms rest on the topmost point next to her. They look into the distance at the now clear shape of at least a half dozen bodies of varying sizes stumbling toward them. Momo checks her quiver to make sure she is full.
“Wait, one of them just fell.” Allard pats her leg and points ahead.
“Then I guess that one gets shot last?”
“No, sorry, I meant one fell and another looked like it was helping them up. I don’t think it’s biters this time.”
The bodies move closer, and Momo can see that one is limping and is being supported by another. She frowns and looks past them, toward the horizon. “I think you’re right,” she agrees, tapping the fingers of her right hand on her quiver. “But even if they aren’t, I’m willing to bet a shiny apple that the group coming up behind them isn’t as un-bitey.”
Allard pops up onto his elbows, his eyes shining with the brightness of the sun. “Wait, are you saying you grew apples? When did you do that?”
“That's-” Momo breaks off with a chuckle, shaking her head. “That wasn’t the most important part of that sentence, son. These people might be alive, but it doesn’t mean we are safe.”
They sit in silence, the sun warm on their backs and a cool breeze ruffling their shirts. It would be a lovely day if it wasn’t for the group tailing the survivors, a group that is far larger than any Momo has seen yet.