The Ember of Beginning VII
"Leave me alone for a moment, I want to say my goodbye," Silora said with a sad expression. She was indeed sad about selling her father's horse and genuinely wanted to say her farewell. But the main reason she wanted to be alone was to investigate. The issue of the staff was still playing in the back of her mind; she hadn't forgotten it yet. She couldn't confront the stable keepers with mere speculations. What if she went inside and found the staff she had left there? It wasn't impossible to replicate her staff accurately; it was ordinary in every way.
Silora approached the section designated for her horse inside the stable, under the understanding looks of the workers there and the curious glances of the other horses. She met her father's horse's eyes, looking at her with his intelligent eyes over the small door. "Hello, did you miss me?" Silora said in a soft voice.
She patted his shiny brown fur and entered the small door. "It's you and me again," no response from the horse, "Did, perhaps, someone come in here?" no response again. Silora looked at the place where she had put her belongings; everything was in its place, except for the staff. She felt some relief from that for some strange reason. She approached her belongings and placed her staff in the same spot she had put it yesterday, on top of all the other items. "It should have been like this, don't you agree?"
Of course, the horse didn't respond to Silora's words. He didn't understand her actions, and neither did she. Silora knelt on one knee, overcome by feelings of uncertainty and fear from everything she had gone through since entering the town. "Am I losing my mind, or..." she leaned against the thin wooden wall that separated the sections. She put her head between her knees and finally allowed her emotions to overcome her. Surprisingly, Silora didn't cry, but she felt extremely weak. This was worse for her than tears.
"Should I just go back home... to my mommy," Silora's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain from her hair being pulled. She looked angrily at her father's horse, who had grabbed large strands of her crimson hair in his sticky mouth. "Stop that, you dummy, what will happen if they see you? You're supposed to be the easy one," she whispered angrily.
As if listening to her words, the horse let her go. Silora tried to sit down again, but her father's horse started biting her hand. "What are you doing?" she stood up again and tried to pull her hand away, but he let go the moment she stood up. She held his head between her hands and said, "What's the matter with you..." her words and thoughts stopped.
One of the horse's eyes reflected an unbelievable scene. Crimson red hair floated in a circle above the blood-red water. Or was it just blood? Half-submerged closed eyes in the bloody water. A smooth forehead marred by more than one bloody cut intersecting at multiple points. The water's color carried different shades of red. Closer to the girl, it was blood red. Further away, it was black. Rusty black chains emerged from the water and hung from the ceiling to the four stone walls. The girl was the central point of the black chains. The water was still, untainted by any movement. The scene seemed sacred in its infectious calmness and desecrated by its emotional void.
Silora took unsteady steps backward, "Not again." Her back hit the wooden wall, she didn't dare try to look into her father's horse's eyes again. But her eyes betrayed her thoughts. She found herself staring, intensely. But the scene had already disappeared. 'What the hell is this?' 'Is this supposed to be me?' 'No, could it be?' 'Am I losing my mind?' Silora tried to sit down, but found herself being pulled again from her clothes by the horse. "Damn it, what are you doing?" Silora didn't bother trying to lower her voice; surely the people outside had heard her annoyed voice.
The horse pulled her back to a standing position and let go of her clothes. "Why do you want me to stand, you, you..." Silora growled in anger, but she controlled it. What's the use of getting angry at a horse? She approached her father's horse again and hugged him tightly, "I'm sorry." He didn't bite her this time, nor did he do anything else; he allowed her to hug him.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
Silora thought again about the scene from earlier. More specifically, the words she had unconsciously uttered, "Not again." She didn't understand why those words were the first thing that came to her mind, but in that moment of confrontation, she felt she had seen or experienced something similar to that scene . 'What was that again?'
Silora felt mentally exhausted; she could no longer ignore all the things she had faced yesterday or today. She tried to find meaning, even assigning it herself to most things. But, it's too much. "I have to go," she said in a soft voice, mostly to herself.
She moved her face away from her father's horse's smooth fur. She looked into his intelligent eyes again. There was nothing there, except for her reflection, which left a feeling of fear inside her. She broke eye contact and headed for her belongings placed in the corner.
Silora had already agreed with the farm owner on a suitable price for most of the horse's accessories. So she didn't have to carry much, but there was still enough to hinder her movement a bit. She left what she had sold and carried what remained. Before leaving the room, she hugged her father's horse again. "Thank you for everything, and for making me stand," she said with a mix of humor and sadness.
Silora left her father's horse's section, looked at him again, and said with deep sadness, "It will be good for you here." She then made her way out of the large stable. The horse continued to watch her with intelligent eyes, frighteningly intelligent. His eyes held a deep awareness of his surroundings, unlike the other horses around him. He watched Silora's back with a consciousness that went beyond instinct. His gaze carried deep sorrow and clear longing, as if searching the horizon for a lost memory or someone who had moved away. His eyes contemplated the path from which Silora had disappeared with quiet sadness, tinged with pity and kindness, as if he understood her suffering and pain.
And then,... the horse sighed humanely.
***
"I understand the sadness you're feeling. It's not easy to do this," said the farm owner sadly, looking at Silora sitting on the same wooden chair as before.
Silora doubted she truly understood, but she didn't deny it either. After all, the woman owned a farm. Silora nodded her head in understanding to the woman in front of her. And didn't say anything.
"No need to complicate things further. Let's finish this deal so you can be on your way. You've been in a hurry since you arrived," the woman said cheerfully, opening a drawer of her luxurious desk. She took out a silver wooden box, its four upper edges adorned with beautiful decorations, but Silora wasn't much interested in the decorations as she was in what the woman took out of the box.
It was gold. Three real gold coins. Although Silora had never seen them before, she knew their value well; everyone did. Each gold coin was worth 100 gold shells in purchasing power. The interesting thing was that they weren't sentimental coins like the shells, but very real with their known weight of 31.1 grams and high purity (24 carats). Silora barely maintained her calm expression. She had expected something like this, but it still amazed her mind greatly.
The woman pushed the three gold coins towards Silora. Throughout the exchange, the woman kept her eyes on Silora's unchanged expression. 'Impression is what we are in the eyes of others.' Silora herself maintained her calm using her mother's wise words and absolute will. She looked calmly at the three gold pieces in her hand and said without raising her head, "There are still 82 gold shells." Silora had sold the horse's accessories for 7 gold shells, a relatively high price for a common commodity.
The woman nodded her head as she watched Silora store the gold pieces. God knows where. "Don't worry, dear, I've already prepared it." She took out a small-sized bag from another drawer of the desk and handed it to Silora, "You can count it if you want."
Silora didn't say anything to her last comment. It would be insulting to both of them if she did with her words. She stored the small bag in her larger bag and said with a smile, "It's a pleasure doing business with you."
The woman nodded her head, clearly pleased with the trust Silora had shown her. "Likewise. We can provide you with a place to stay tonight. You clearly seem to be heading somewhere."
Silora nodded her head and said gratefully, "Thank you for the offer, and you're right, I'm heading somewhere, tonight. I still have a sea voyage to catch."
The woman raised her eyebrows and stood up from her seat, "In that case, we can provide you with a ride, a comfortable ride. For free." She walked around her desk until she stood in front of Silora. She extended her right hand for a handshake.
Silora shook her hand with a happy smile on her face, "Thank you for that in advance."