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Oratoria: Bury the Dead
39: A day's work

39: A day's work

Several hours would pass, the dishes never seemed to stop coming; Esper never had more than a few seconds in-between each set, to take a short break before the next clinkering load would arrive from the small window. After a few hours, her initial excitement had worn off and she felt the exhaustion growing more and more rapidly. The culmination of several days of improper or, no sleep at all, making itself felt in the warm, fragrant atmosphere of the tavern kitchen.

Boredom however never came, as she stared out the window, her hands idly scrubbing the plates beneath the water, as she watched the many people come and go through her view-port. Laughter and conversations, held about things that she had never heard of, using many words and terms she had yet to learn. It was an extremely large amount of input, yet behind the seclusion of the separating wall, she was able to take it all in without being burnt through by the dozens of eyes of the people.

All of it mixed together however, making it hard to decipher any deeper specifics from this vantage point. Talk of fantastical creatures that she had never heard a murmur of before, mixed in with many different incantations and utterances of magics that she was awed by, all mixed in together to create a jumble of noise and speech. More than once, the woman behind the bar, who also carried the plates to the tables, had to chastise some of the patrons that were growing too rowdy, or showing off with spells that were not fit to be used in such an enclosed space.

Time sped by quickly in that first night and soon enough the voices began to grow fewer and weaker, the dishes came in slower and the spooky looking proprietor of the house would also come to slow his pace. Not much longer after that, the door to the outside would be shut one last time, as the last group of laughing patrons wandered out and then there was nothing left, but the quiet crackling of the dying fire and the clambering sound of the woman behind the bar, collecting the last few mugs and plates.

Deryk began clearing off the large stone table which rose out of the floor as if it had been carved out of the stone below, wiping off the wooden boards that he cut meat on and placing the assorted jars and containers from which he had been pinching different spices and grains out of back onto different shelves and cabinets. The exhausted looking woman placed the last mugs and plates onto the window where they made their way towards the basin. Looking down at them, also exhausted, Esper washed them off now together with the last of her energy and set them to the side, watching as they drifted away around the counter.

The girl yawned, rising to her toes as she stretched, as she did so she felt her wet dress stick to her skin. It had been splashed so many times with the brown dishwater, that it had now even more stains than ever before. Thankfully the fatty stains from the diluted water mixed in nicely with the rest of the grime and dirty spots the tattered old thing had, so it wasn’t too much worse than before. Deryk floated over to her “You were a big help.”

“I’m tired,” says Esper.

“I’m Deryk.”

Esper looked at him confused for a moment, not quite understanding the joke on the get-go.

Seeing this, the odd man smiled. His dark lips rising to meet the deep purple rings beneath his eyes. “You have held up your end of the bargain.”

Esper nodded with a weak smile back at him. “Mm.”

The strange looking man reached over her, the sleeve of his purple robe dangling past her face as he placed his hand on the sigil carved into the stone wall. Esper looked at the circle beneath the man's hand and saw how the light slowly left it and the water stopped spouting from the seemingly endless spring from which it had come this entire time.

“I wish I could do that,” she said, somewhat jealous.

“I have been given the blessings of water, more specifically of the flow.”

“Haah?”

Deryk floated back towards the table and began to undo his flower-dotted apron, the bottom of his robe billowing beneath him. “Do you have magic girl?”

“I have a circle too, but I can’t make water.”

“Oh?” He looked back curiously “So you are of witchblood too? How uncommon for two of us to meet. Strange days.” The man took a bowl from the pile of clean ones and went over to the other side of the room.

“What’s witchblood?”

The man stirred a great pot with a large wooden spoon “When the gods created us, a long time ago, some were-” the man took a large scoop out of the pot, placing the contents into the bowl he held in his other hand. “-favored.” He came back to the large table in the middle of the room and set it down. The man bent his upper body unnaturally over sideways once more, holding his arms out to the side, gesturing to her welcomingly to sit. “You have worked. You may eat.”

“Thank you!” said Esper, finding new strength at the prospect of hot food and quickly moved to the table.

Steam still rose from the bowl, filled with a thick brown sauce coating several things she didn’t recognize. It smelled deeply rich and reminded her of the jar in the bag in a way, but it was different. Sweeter. The herbs and greens mixed in with the stew, giving it a fresh crisp note that overpowered the grease and fat. Many large chunks of different colors floated around inside. All in different shapes and sizes. Her eyes widened in delight, she looked up to the man to see if this was really okay for her to eat, but he had already turned back to fill another bowl.

“Witchbloods-” he continued, his back still turned “-we were not among those favored. They, the people here call ‘touched’. We are very much the opposite, in fact.” He said somewhat sarcastically. Esper took hold of the spoon and dug in, taking a large piece of something she had never seen before onto it. The spoon cut through the mealy texture, revealing a bright yellow on the fresh cut which was quickly over coated, as it sunk into the sauce. Placing the spoon into her mouth she took her first bite. It was hot, so hot that her tongue stung with great intensity. But she was too entranced by the overpowering flavor to pay notice to the pain. The sensation of the taste and the desire to taste more was far stronger than it.

The sauce was a thick, heavy liquid that sunk to the pit below her tongue, washing over it as it came off the spoon. It was deep and tasted similar to what she remembered from the bird so long ago. It was stout and savory, rich with fats and a hint of a red sweetness that she couldn’t identify. A crisp tang from something green slicing through the bulk of the mixture, giving it a zest that stopped it from becoming too overbearing and heavy. The strange vegetable she had sliced through was grainy and came apart easily as she chewed on it. It reminded her of the porridge the tall woman had made her from the taste, it had a gentle sweetness that came from the seemingly bland plant itself. It was a great balance with the broth of the stew, giving it a content that took on the flavor of the sauce, while keeping its own distinct taste.

Deryk came back and placed the second bowl onto the table before turning back to the pot once again to repeat the action a third time. “The touched have free access to the gifts of the spirit that favors them. It is said there are rare individuals who have been chosen by several of the gods. The great heroes of the olden days if you are perhaps more familiar with fairy tales.” He looked back to see if she understood, but saw that he would get no answer from her cheeks swelling up like those of a famished squirrel upon finding a bounty of nuts.

He came back and placed the bowl down on the table next to the other and sat down, not eating just yet.

The barkeeper walked in through the kitchen door, wiping her forehead sweat on her sleeve.

“Good work today,” said the man to her.

“Thanks. I had to throw Jakob out again for causing a fuss.”

“He has been causing a lot of problems lately,” replied Deryk.

The woman sat down at the table, pulling a wooden stool out from against the wall. “So you found someone to help you out in the kitchen finally?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Yes, she will be staying here for a time.”

The woman and Esper met eyes. She nodded to her and reached across the large table, holding her hand out “Hi there, I’m Aline.” Esper looked at her hand curiously, not quite too sure what to do with it. She placed her spoon down however and held her own hand out to meet the woman’s, who took the initiative and grasped her palm, shaking it.

She swallowed the food still in her mouth and replied “Ah, I’m Esper. Hello!”

“Will you be staying with us long?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm. Well you let me know if you need anything, it’s not often someone can stay around a creep like Deryk for an entire day.”

“You work for me you know,” said Deryk to the woman, who laughed the statement off, patting the strange man on his back. His skeletal upper body lurched forward stiffly with every strike.

“He’s not creepy,” said Esper.

The woman looked at her somewhat perplexed “Are your eyes unwell?”

“I was a gravedigger. He reminds me of the dead.”

The woman howled with laughter, slapping the expressionless man's back harder with some force, now spilling the food from his spoon down onto the table.

“I think we’re going to work great together Esper!” said Aline through her jubilation.

“You both work for me, you know,” replied the man dryly, staring at the wasted stew sticking to the table. Esper continued eating and looked at the man. Sensing her gaze he raised his eyes to hers. Esper was scraping the bottom of her bowl, trying to get every last bit of it as her mind still spun, if only slowly.

“But what's a witchblood?”

“What?” asked Deryk.

“You still didn’t say what a witchblood was.”

“Oh, right. Well, just as the touched are blessed by the new gods. Witchbloods, named after the first witch, are chosen by the old gods, which is why we use the old magics of sigils.”

Esper didn’t really get it, but she was becoming too tired to be curious anymore. Aline continued, shrugging. “These days Adelina is after both kinds of magic users for military service, though the clergy is a bunch of old rags that don’t like witchbloods.

Deryk continued. “We are accepted as a useful tool here, but other nations reject the new gods and their chosen. We are received more warmly there.”

Esper thought about the story for a time, the memory of her mother warning her not to show her magic to anybody gaining some more context. Just as she recessed into her memories however, she let loose a gigantic yawn that her active mind was unable to suppress. A cold sting pricked her chest. She looked to the window behind her, through to the bar. The door to the outside was just to the right of it, behind the wall where she couldn’t see it. The voice talked to her. It told her that she should go, bef-

“Ah, you must be tired.”

She snapped her head back to the man before her.

“Aline, take the girl to an empty room.”

The woman was just scraping her bowl empty as well. “Take her yourself, you old slave driver.”

“You work for me, Aline,” says Deryk again.

“Ugh.” The woman rose up, setting the empty bowl down on the table. She placed her hands on her lower back and stretched herself out forward with a groan, followed by a defeated sigh. Aline looked over to Esper “Come on,” she nodded her head to the side gesturing for the girl to follow. Esper placed the bowl down, having just finished licking it and rose to her feet.

Turning around she hobbled back to the sink and grabbed the robe-bag, which was still laying there and went to the woman's side. Deryk looked at her “You did good work today.” Esper smiled toothily at the praise. “We open tomorrow at sunset. For every night you help, I will allow you to eat and sleep here.” He looked at her tattered dress. “Aline, go to town and buy the girl something to wear. We can’t have the customers see her like that, they’ll think she’s a slave.” Aline rolled her eyes and turned to walk out of the kitchen.

Esper nodded to the man, he nodded back, the pact was reaffirmed and she hobbled off after the woman. They entered the area behind the bar which looked as if it had been ransacked several times over. The many bottles filled with liquids, now empty to varying degrees. The room itself was clean, but there were traces of the chaos that had taken place here not long before. Smears on the tables and some chairs still overturned, the aroma of food and drink still lingering, but now growing stale. Aline lifted up the wooden separator and they walked out from behind the bar.

The two of them moved quietly to the stairs on the other side of the room and Aline began to ascend up the flight. Esper stared for a time, standing at the bottom. They were hewn out of solid stone, no wood was to be seen. The corners were rounded and chipped from many boots traveling up over them, weathering the edges over the many years. Aline stood halfway at the top and looked back at the girl “Are you coming?” she asks. Esper thought for a moment. Had she ever gone up stairs before? She knew what they were. But she had never actually gone up any before.

Tentatively, she lifted her leg and placed her right foot onto the lowest step. Then followed with the other. Standing with both feet planted firmly on it, she turned her head and looked around the room from this new perspective. She wondered if this is how Journeyman saw the world all the time? No, he was higher up than this. She went up another step and then another and then looked back again at the room. Her eyes turned towards the door to the outside. Something told her to leave. Aline stood there watching the strange girl. “I don’t have all night. Come on.”

Esper snapped out of it and turned back to the woman, following her up the last few steps up to the landing. The stairs led to a short hallway. Five bright wooden doors, two on each side and one at the end adorned the stone walls. They walked to the furthest one on the left and Aline turned the handle, opening the door up without a single creak, squeak or groan. “This room is empty." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a large metal ring with several keys on it and pulled one off. “Here, this is the key. Don’t lose it or there will be hell to pay.”

Esper took the small, metal thing that was being offered to her and looked at it. “What’s a key?”

“What? Who raised you girl? Have you had no education whatsoever?” Esper looked at the woman and shrugged. The woman looked down at the girl with some agitation, but also some pity that just barely managed to overwhelm the former. She sighed and pointed to the door “You can put the key in this hole here, see? And then you turn it and it locks the door.” Esper walked over to the door and looked at the odd hole in it. Raising the key towards it she inserted it and twisted it, hearing the click come from the side.

Twisting it back it clicked once more and she removed the key. “Only that key opens this door. So if you lose it, you’ll be in a lot of trouble,” warned Aline, crossing her arms.

“Okay, I’ll be careful. Thank you!”

Aline’s mouth made a strange movement as she wanted to say more, but bit her lip instead, stopping herself from letting the conversation continue. “Okay. I don’t care what you do tomorrow. Just be here at sunset,” said the woman, walking back towards the stairs.

“Okay!” replied Esper after her.

After the woman's head vanished below the horizon of the steps, Esper turned around and walked into the now open room. It was small, very small. Smaller than her old home. A single bed sat on the right, against the wall. The sheets had a soft, red tone to them, visible even through the dim light coming in through the small window directly across from the door. Beneath it was a wooden table. She walked into the room and placed her bag on the foot of the bed before turning around to the door.

Grabbing it, she stood there with hesitation for a moment, but then shut it tightly and reinserted the key now from this side, to lock it once more. After it clicked she removed the key and tugged on the door firmly to test it. It seemed secure. The girl looked around the room, the thick stone walls muffled any noises that could have otherwise come from the outside world. Walking over to the bed she ran her fingers across the sheets. The material was smooth and freshly washed. Her eyes lit up as she ran her hand over the red blanket, her skin gliding evenly across the sleek surface.

It wasn’t the smoothest material that she had ever felt, but it was definitely a nice blanket and as far as she could tell, no dead body had ever been wrapped up inside of it. Lifting the blanket up off of the bed, she pressed down on the mattress which gave way with a little resistance as she pressed down on it. There was no crunching of straw to be heard, the filling was something else apparently. Though she had no idea what it could be. Yawning once more, she took off her dress and laid it on top of the bag at the foot of the bed.

Lifting the top corner of the blanket up again, the girl folded it out once to make a pocket to crawl inside of. Esper began to raise herself up onto the bed, but stopped mid-motion, looking back at the door behind her. Something bothered her. Letting herself back down, she went to the small table under the window and pulled it out from against the wall. It let out a squeaking cry, as it slid across the stone floor. Pushing it across the small room, she shoved it against the door, wedging it tightly on the corner.

Once more she tugged on the handle. It was still locked. Satisfied now, she went back to the bed and crawled in between the soft sheets and the thick red blanket. Her fingers scrunched it up and pulled it high over her neck. There she felt the necklace, tracing over it idly for a minute at most, before the world went black and she drifted into the deep, heavy sleep that had been denied to her for so many days now. It was a long, dark sleep and she lost any sense of self, her body feasting on the hot food still filling it. Using every last bit of it to finally start mending the many bruises, cuts and injuries she had accumulated over the chaotic journey on body and soul.

Dreams seemed to try to make themselves seen. Faint visions of tall wavering silhouettes of people and trees bending into impossible shapes that she couldn’t identify, but rather felt. The faces of people she had seen on the trip and some she didn’t remember ever seeing before, all flashing by and merging into vague formless shapes. Odd sensations of falling and of wind on her skin came and went just as quickly. All of these things attempted to make themselves manifest in her mind, only to be overpowered by the crushing depths of the deep sleep she was in.

The only memory that she would be able to recall from her dreams that night, was of being outside on a dark gray and cloudy day; under the cover of many dark leafy trees and dancing in the rain together with the many wriggly-jiggly worms, rising out of the wet, muddy dirt. All together to the rhythm of the storm raging above in the aether.