That night, Nua started having dreams.
She never remembered what they were about. The images were fading as soon as she woke up, leaving her with shadows of emotions or impressions, like bliss, longing, fear, or inconsolable sadness, and each one felt like a long-forgotten memory. At first, she thought that she is reliving recent events, each one tumultuous enough to cause nightmares on its own. Then, she started to wonder if Anki’s thoughts have something to do with it. On the fourth morning, she confronted him about it.
“We usually have intense dreams when we learn something new”, he remarked. “It’s a scrapyard of sorts. Our minds mash up what happened in the day, or several days ago, and get creative.”
“But I don’t remember anything.”
“It might be a side effect of the changes that are taking place in your brain.”, he mused. “Its areas are reconnecting – we’re challenging you all the time - so old memories can resurface. But if they are very old, for example from before you were self-aware, you’ll have no conscious recollection of them. I’ll run a checkup today to see if everything is going along correctly. I would not like you to develop faulty connections that end up in seizures.”
A feeling of dread run along her spine.
“…that could happen?”
“On a very off chance. Do not worry.”
“I am worrying. Anki, that is my brain. It’s, like, who I am.”
“Do you feel any other change?”
For a while, Nua inwardly prodded and poked her mind.
“Nope. Maybe that’s all there is, healing or not.”
“Give it time.”, Anki said. “It’s been only a few days. You’re not there yet, and you’re also used to your former capabilities. You’ll need encouragement… perhaps even a bit of force, not excessive, mind you… to step beyond them.”
Nua cast him a sideways look. She did not want to let him go, so he does not choose someone… evil. But if he causes her pain, then she’ll show him. She’ll get stubborn on purpose, and since he can’t break the oath on his own, he’ll have to cope.
“I think your speaking counts as a bit of force. I work to understand you, and it’s like you have a book in your head.”
“Thousands of them, Nua.”
“Oh. Right.”
Nua didn’t start her work in the warehouse at the beginning of the week, so it was already Sixthday. Besides avoiding Fabia and her cronies, the job was even more intense. The girl had already figured out the rhythm of the market and knew that besides the difference between the morning with fresh fish arriving on trawlers, and the midday and afternoon when laborers sorted preserved merchandise and arranged it in the warehouse for the next day of trade, there was a variation among the days of the week. For example, the Fifthday was holy to the imp population from the Clockwork District, and that, for some unknown reason, involved eating seafood. Therefore, on Fourthday, the warehouse had an insane turnover of live crabs and lobsters.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
In the morning, Erish told her that Sixthday was hard for several reasons. First of all, Seventhday was a day of rest for the people from Overlord’s Mercy. That is, except for the cooks and bartenders, who had the most work on that day in particular. The nobles feasted. The merchant families had a special, rich meal. The well-off, qualified workers, soldiers, engineers, or scholars, attended inns and taverns.
Hala never had a day off. Maybe if she was too sick to work, but that rarely happened. However, on the Seventhday, she often tried to get her children a special treat. In good times, it was a spoon of butter in the gruel, dried fruit, or pieces of dried fish added to the mix. When her purse was thinner, she was simply more generous with homegrown spices, and she always found a few extra tubers.
Anyway, it turned out that the people outside the Bottoms could easily buy three times as much on Sixthday as on any other day, and that meant more deliveries and so more work for the cleaners.
The other clients that arrived on the Sixthday, early in the morning, were traders from garum factories. According to Erish, the Azurians, especially the ones with roots in their original homeland, couldn’t imagine cooking without the salty, fermented fish sauce, and it was good to set up a new batch before the end of the week to start up the fermentation. Nua had never tried the vile stuff and did not want to even if she could afford it, judging it a travesty against Unsaggan palate from the smell only. It did not change the fact that half of the money the lord merchant was making was from wholesale to the garum producers.
The second reason for the Sixthday being the most intense day of the week was that the crew had a Seventhday off, as well. Therefore, everything had to be cleaned spotless, so as not to leave any sort of leftovers rotting in the warehouse for the rats to get.
Also, the farmer indeed arrived for his refuse pile, on a huge cart harnessed into two bored green and brown scaled drakes. Laborers loaded the garbage with wide shovels. Nua registered the affair from a safe distance because of the smell. Then, to her dismay, the crew had to come and get rid of all the mishandled remains that did not make it onto the cart.
When Nua and her fellow laborers finally heard the gong that marked the end of the day, there was a collective gasp of relief. They dragged themselves to the cleaner corner, leaving buckets and aprons in disarray. Erish was the one to correct and reprimand them, although judging by her voice, was she in their place, she’d do the same.
Then, something unbelievable happened.
“Good job, kiddo.”, said one of the older workers and patted her on the head.
“Makes you want to work harder, eh?”, another woman added. “Not to stay behind such a scraggy ass. Here,” she handed Nua a small item. “A lucky charm. Drill a hole so you can wear it.”
Nua looked at the ivory-colored object, eyes like saucers. It was a river dragon tooth, probably from one of the small ones that were gutted in the morning. People made necklaces with dragon teeth, sometimes. The jewelry-quality ones came from the mature dragons sold at the auction. Still…
“Don’t encourage her.”, one of Fabia’s friends spat at the floor.
“We don’t spit here, we clean here.”, Erish reminded in a tired voice. “All of you, get your coppers from Aton and scram. Have a good Seventhday.”
Unfortunately, Nua only had to pretend to get hers. She still had a flatfish to eat today and planned to tell Hala that she spent her hard-earned salary to buy it, which was not that far from the truth. Then, she would sleep until the Trickster Sun came out. She needed it.
Yesterday, Anki judged that her skill at holding ether is enough to start learning Techniques. And that would involve running.