DRIFA

Waking up to the sound of shuffling feet, I look up blearily from the snow outside the tent to see Ismund going through some motions with his sword.

Huh, that’s pretty cool, I’ve only ever read about that. It makes sense why they had vague descriptions though, it looks complicated.

Getting myself ready to get moving to wherever it was we were going, I grabbed my yellow hairband and put my hair up in a messy bun, leaving my bangs free.

Suddenly the monotonous movement stops, “You’ll have a bit while I pack up the tent.”

I’ll do better today. That did not go well yesterday. Insulting people isn’t a good way to show your usefulness. It looks like I’ll be stuck with him for a while too, so I should act like it. He’s probably just an introvert or something and I’m taking too much energy from him, or maybe he’s just grumpy on a normal basis.

Failing to notice that he’s already finished packing, Ismund calls back to me, “Get your head out of the clouds.”

“Sorry! I’ll get moving” I say, starting stiffing silence.

After a long while of trudging through the snow without questions, Ismund changes that, “Are you going to start your rant again?”

Eventually figuring out what he meant I respond, dejected, “I’ll only ask ones that are important, I’ll stay quiet.”

Ismund seemed to release a smidge of tension he was holding in his shoulders.

Okay, it’s going in a good direction then. He doesn’t like chatting.

“Where are we going too? How long till we’re there?” I ask tentatively.

“My village. We’ll be there when we arrive.” He answers sulkily, grabbing another toothpick.

It’s going well so far.

I do a little fist pump, hoping Ismund doesn’t notice.

“Can I have one?” Turning back silently Ismund raises an eyebrow.

“A toothpick.” I clarify.

Tossing one back to me I catch it, if barely. After giving it a quick examination I stick it in my mouth.

Mint flavour. I wonder how he does that?

Voicing my question he wiggles his fingers, still looking ahead, and says, “Magic.” apathetically.

“So can you make it any flavour? Could you make it maple?” He nods and gives me enough that I should be busy for the next few hours.

Softly mumbling to himself he says, “Hopefully she doesn’t talk for a while. I wish I wasn’t obligated by the System to tow her around.”

As we walk for the next hour or so I notice that it keeps getting colder and colder as the wind picks up.

I don’t know how he’s not freezing. Maybe enchanted clothes or something? I don’t think I’m going to be getting much further, I’m already numb almost everywhere.

“Hey, I-Ismund,” I try to say through chattering teeth, “Do y-you have anything I c-c-could use to stay warm?” Looking up at him, I hope that he has something.

Looking somewhat startled at the sudden noise, he starts looking through his pack to reluctantly retrieve a handsome green cloak. He stares at it lips pursed with his brows drawn together.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Staring me straight in the eye, he states seriously, “Take good care of it, it was for my younger brother.” Quickly looking away he speeds up.

Pinning the wool cloak together I hurry to follow, glad for the warmth.

I wonder what happened to his brother? I don’t think that people would normally act like that when their letting people borrow things. I’ll just have to make sure that I don’t ruin it and find out prematurely.

Feeling it between my fingers I add to that thought.

It’s also quite nice, and I’d rather not die from frostbite.

* * *

Eventually, I spot a large, rugged-looking area with large indents surrounded by broken ground. As we get closer I can tell that there are pieces of wood sticking out from what looks like the remains of some buildings.

Astonished at the unexpected sight, my previously cheerful mind goes numb.

What happened here?

Bewildered, I look over to Ismund who also looks anxious to go investigate, if not more so.

“Go and see if you can find anything over there, I’ll call you over when I think we’re done.” He says with unrivalled stoniness.

Quick to obey him, I scatter to what must’ve been some buildings. I start looking for something, only to realize there’s probably nothing of worth other than the wood. Recognizing he probably needed space, I peek over some rubble to watch him, nosy as ever.

He said this was his village… what on Earth must he be going through? It explains some of his attitude, and his reluctance to give me this cloak. That was… sweet of him I guess. But then again, I was freezing to death, if slowly. Still, I should probably be a bit more gentle in the future.

As I watch him I can see him look around for a moment, probably checking for observers like myself, and then seems satisfied. Ismund then starts to quickly rummage through the rubble finding an old metal disk.

He looks down at it gritting his jaw, turning a bit red in the face. Putting the object away he stares down muttering some hot words. Pacing around tensely, clenching his fist and uselessly hitting a few pieces of wood. Eventually, he simply looks drained and just falls to his knees and lets some tears flow without another word. Silently watching, the wind competitively whips around pelting him with snow, trying to match the sting of the past.

Better not mention this to him unless he brings it up. I don’t think there’s a whole lot I can do to help other than be less burdensome.

Watching a little teary myself, I remember what it was like to lose my mum. Eventually, he seems to get himself pulled together. Roughly he calls out to me, “Raiders took it all. There’s only a bit of wood left. Let's move.”

Except for that little piece you grabbed.

Doing my best to keep my expression neutral, I walk towards him as if nothing happened.

Seeming to have spent enough time here grieving, he leaves the desecrated village to journey back to where we came from. Following him I wonder what the goal is now. He only really said that we were going here, and now we’ve done that.

At least I’ll be able to walk in my footprints for a while before it gets filled up and washed out. And it looks like that’ll happen soon considering all of the heavy snow coming down.

Trudging behind Ismund, giving him space, I tried to figure out what I could do for him.

He’s not cold, other than with his personality, so I don’t know that hot food will help. Maybe I can help with the tent setup, but that could be seen as intrusive.

Eventually, I get an idea grab a piece of wood, and hide it in my pocket.

Once he decides that we’ve gone far enough, Ismund eats some Jerky quickly, and me some as well after I ask. While he sets up the camp he holds the tent pole white-knuckled. Right before he disappears for the night, I grab his attention.

“Ismund, I have something for you.”, I tell him hoping he’ll like it.

Turning a little too quickly than usual he asks, “What is it?”

Silently cheering my success I hand a piece of lumber to him.

“It’s for making yourself more toothpicks,” I say with a small grin. Not wanting to overstay my welcome, I head to the side of the tent again.

Scrape

Scrape

Listening as he silently carves some toothpicks I smile gently.

Okay, giving him wood to carve into toothpicks is a good idea. It also looks like I can ask a few questions over a day, but mostly leave him alone.

Slowly, after reviewing my memories I come to a realization.

I think maybe I was wrong about there not being an exodus. Maybe this isn’t so different. There are patterns for a reason I guess, however unfortunate it is.

I shiver at the thought of what must’ve happened there, those were giant indents.

Odd. They were pretty evenly placed. Are they? No. it can’t be. Was it a war? bombs? I don’t think a monster of any kind could be that big. Either way, it’s unnatural and I don’t like it. If they have magic can I then? Magic is surpassing normal human capabilities. That’d be fun, and I could stay away from all of the upfront stuff.

Tucking my new warm cloak closer to myself I get a good layer of snow on me to keep warm. I never really knew why it helped with insulation when it was frozen, but it did.

I think this is a better method than just sitting out here in a sweater.

On that note, I drift to sleep, occasionally interrupted by some errant snow hitting me in the face.