With time spent chewing next to the ambience of the wild fire, his plate was a few bites from finishing and so was his mothers. The display of food had been wiped clean from the slick oiled pans and left to cool on the dirt by Marie.
The spent time has been monotone, there wasn't much other than consuming and listening to the bare street. The current surroundings were dead, dead as the night sky and was as peacefully serene as it could be. Not a noise to sever the still atmosphere, apart from the occasional breeze that shook the leaves and voices of wild animals someplace else. And the fire, the only thing keeping his body from freezing to a child sized ice cube.
Other than that.
Silent. The world always seemed hushed when the sun didn't shine. The dark, fogging up the earth with its chilly grip causing everything to slow.
Night has long been known to him, it had lost its mysterious intrigue a chip at a time as he got older. There wasn't anything he could learn anymore from it, nothing else that was new to his keen eyes and nothing of interest that could stop him from seeing the same old street he has always remembered.
Well... the streets have changed. They were always changing. Some things may have stayed the same, like many of the nearby neighbours. The routines of people in the daylight, the domino of lit up fires as people settled during the evening and the same layout of houses that occupied the space.
But dig a little deeper and you'll find that difference is everywhere even if it is small. Houses can go though minor reworks, builds could be stripped and reassembled, someone could have brought something and people could disappear. And someone else will replace them. The world he has see had gone through many events, yet, it hasn't at the same time. It takes something huge to truely count as change. And so far, nothing of the sort has happened.
It has grown stagnant, became still and boring but that doesn't mean he didn't like it. It was peaceful, it's familiar. Like the many times before this.
The night has gone on for long.
Long enough he and his mother were the last two people to be outside in the area from what he could see. The old man had disappeared halfway through the meal, his bonfire now a collection of coals where thick ash rose while everywhere else, thin trails of smoke if the coals were not already finished.
Though, it wasn't the only thing he could see.
It was the lack-there-of.
Plate on this crossed legs, swallowed the bits he had chewed and glanced around the dark expanse. The insensitive wind through the air stiring the drained fire, the inanimate sway of trees visualised by the vacant noise of shivering leaves. An unseeable stretch ahead at the end of the street and the pitch black that clung around. The world has gone dark. And his face subtly clenched to stone, steeling his eyes before they betrayed him.
The dark has shrunk to the bare that was his space. Or, the black has expanded its swallowing hold, taking everything away. The vastness of great earth has been discreetly replaced with its suppressing touch of unknown. Unseeable vastness bedded the sights near and far. Sweat sticking out his skin.
Leaving him feeling alone, forced to fend for himself against whatever hid behind the lightless veil. But he wasn't alone, his mother was with him and the sense of fear lifted as he looked at her for a quick moment.
It was safe here and if he scanned more widely, the dark didn't hold the extreme terror he though it had. Out there, closer to the galient castle with its cloud reaching peaks and towers. Holstered a plethora of bright lights that shone around and beneath its white painted walls. The focal point of the city where light never stopped shinning.
And with the many other specks of orange light throughout the central city, the dark was not as frightening as it could be.
The faraway castle. It's high poles with its flaccid flag weakly waving from the slight breeze. Showing its bright blue each waking day and sleepless night, always on display.
The flag was like a sleeve, it slid into an extension of the high pole and was forever open and above the people.
Great Kurterve. City of might, city of greatness as it would be known to Marie, as she had been told thoughout her childhood. She also gazed upon the distant centre, its vibrant lights and its huge upheld flags, looking with troubled beliefs and stinging thoughts thicker than the mind a child could think. Wishes she had been conditioned to hold. Wishes she had been forced to take.
Because she needed to know better was out there for her.
To the child, naive to the devilish harshness that life could hurl, he was childish. He had no thoughts of the place he lived in. He has heard the name Kurterve, Great Kurterve even. But it was just that, a name. A meaningless title that held no significance to him. If the city was named differently, would he have lived a different life.
The city was as important as his current thoughs -
'How do they sleep when it's so bright?'
Picking up another piece of food to his mouth, he turned to his mother. A radient appearance even in her dismal state, fighting off the scary and never toppling no matter how hard they tried. A dazzling pillar.
It was comforting being around her, it felt safe, familiar, close. Not wanting the feeling to change but he childishly wanted more.
Wanting to be even closer, closer than where the fire would hurt and closer to her heart than where he sat.
And to do so, advice from this morning, was to talk. Communicate with his mother but as he racked his brain for a talking point, he didn't know how to initiate. Thinking of what would interest his parent, he couldn't. He didn't know much about her. Her likes, dislikes, he had unbelievably never thought of them.
Thinking hard while he ate his food, maybe she liked reading books also. He had seen her view an open book before but it wasn't the same as the picture books he liked. And... that was the extent of what he could gather. It was peculiar. How did everyone else know how to talk to others.
Not giving up, he swallowed the bite and like triggering a lightbulb, he found the material. The squared hatted lady!
The woman from the afternoon, she had caught his attention quite firmly and there was alot to expressively talk about. Her figure, how she looked, how strange she seemed and most interesting of all, her swords, and how she graced around carrying them in in broad daylight.
It was banned to carry around weapons, it was common sense. Plastered on every single bulletin board in big bold by the 'KPP' and if any patrol guards found someone suspicious, they would quickly subdue you and take you away. Even if she only stuck to walking around the outskirts, at least one guard should've spotted her. Unless she was like a cat.
Pass the point, the swords themselves were a talking point. So, he turned his head again ready to happily speak his racing mind.
'~ There was this lady this morning, she wore a reallllyy big hat and she had these two swords which had these big circles at the end with - ~'
As he turned, Marie was already staring with a deadpan emotion on her face, but not at him. He had shot out to face her but she didn't seem to notice him. And from what he saw, her grey face that fire drew itself on and the tiredness that focused on something else, he froze.
The idea was zapped away instantly and the forming smile stopped its tracks and reversed. He understood it wasn't the time and the mood had rapidly been soured due to Maries unawareness.
Actually, it was more than the simple ruining of mood. If he talked to her now, her blank face and the two pits that didn't look at him, he would be ignored. So he knows not to speak because being ignored was the hardest thing to shake off, and he wouldn't be if he didn't make them able to.
Her secluded eyes that were unapproachable, he wanted, yearned for them to acknowledge him, by conversation or anything else. A simple engagement that would happen if he spoke, she would look at him then but hidden deeply, he's scared. Not scared by Marie herself but by her absence of action. Even if she faces him, nothing would change. He see's it, and he unfortunately knows.
Against the coldness he didn't feel a sense of sadness, no tears will be falling tonight and neither did it disappoint as he has well adjusted to the dissociative behaviour from Marie. He couldn't explain what he felt, the feeling was akin to... living? The same emotion he felt when staring at his shoes or looking without focalising at anything in particular. So all he did was gaze away with a passive face, darting back to the black that surrounded the quiet street.
Finishing his plate, Marie stood up. She had been waiting for him to be done and she simply took his used plate from his hands to clean up and finally sleep, he let go easily.
Change happens with time, and the most change he could innocently wish for was for his one and only blood mother to be aware of him more. And he believes it so. Not letting the melancholy hack at his body because he had witnessed change this night. And it was exciting, hope for the future so even if Maries distant face forced him to sadness, the mere possibility for change uplifted his rainy mood.
As Marie did the final rounds before bed, he released himself from the cuddling flame. The fire was soon to go and it was disheartening as he took one final glance at the sniffling red before going inside.
It would be a pile of glowing coal left to be feasted on by the nightly blow as quickly as he slept. He would've liked to bring it with him to warm his bed as he slept but obviously, the fresh char was too hot and the mess would not be making Marie proud.
Leaving the fire, he arrived hastily to his bed. A thick layering of adult sized mats that formed his mattress and an interconnecting stitching of multiple different cloths and furs that made up his blanket. The blanket he had know his entire life and for his pillow, it was feather filled, same as his mothers.
Marie was outside again, this time for the last tonight. She was dripping water off the washed plates and utensils inbetween her fingers. Simply holding them at her sides, it was too much effort to raise them and to shake off the excess liquid so she didn't attempt to speed up the drying process. Instead, she used her strength to warm herself for the final time.
Taking her unfocused eyes away from infront of her to the small yet warming campfire. Holding her hands out ready to routinely stretch her fingers but she quickly stopped herself. She would've dropped the items by being absent minded straight into the blistering blaze if she didnt start thinking clearer, and getting the plates and forks will not be a relaxing breeze.
Maybe she should've placed them away before enjoying the heat but then, she would need to come back and that was wasting energy. Energy she needed conserved for tomorrow but now she couldn't enjoy the warmth as well as she could've.
The act was a ritual to Marie. She had done this ever since she first began. A small fulfilment before she ended her day which as time would take it, it became a need she looked forward to and yet she couldn't enjoy it to the max with these things she held. Another painful flick the world kept on throwing at her.
Loosely staring as she rotated her cluching hands for the heat to reach around her wet hands. The little comfort couldn't remove the enotionless off her face or add spunk to her dark eyes. What Marie truely hoped for was lasting, not a fleeting moment of shallow joy.
Leaving the fire, Marie rid herself off the plates and forks remebering then she had forgotten and left the pot and pan outside. One annoyance after the other.
Picking up the two objects slick with an unwashed layer of dirty, dried oil, she lightly groaned. Due to forgetting to wash the forged metals and also due to their tedious weight that had gotten heavier than earlier.
Straining herself to get then inside lest she wanted them stolen another time if she left them undefended outside. The oil, she had to clean tomorrow. She couldn't handle cleaning them now and neither does she want to, so she uncaringly threw them at the dinning table and that was the definitive end. She was unwilling to do more, except for one thing.
Already crawled into the hold of his bed and underneath the sketchwork of the many cloths. He was just nigh off wondering but close was not actually. In the encasement of darkness, he could harmlessly watch without Marie staring back with her disapproving eyes. Although the extreme lack of lighting made everything unclear, he could make out what he saw and he sees his mother getting on her knees next to her bed.
Pulling away the corner of her bed mat where her pillow sat. Under it, normal looking floorboards even she had a hard time differentiation between but she had discerned them many times before. One was loose and could be peeled away.
Digging her nails into a small crevice, she pulled a wooden plank apart from the ground and moved the taken floorboard aside. Leaving an hidden compartment out in the open dark.
And from a pocket inside her outter garment. She uncovered some made money.
From the childs perspective, he couldn't make out the fine details but he already knew the essence of the movements, the pop of the dislodged floorbaord and the click of an small opened box with the jingle of coins within Maries hands. He had seen the secret compartment before and was unsurprised to see Marie use it.
Resealing the hole, Marie slid into her bed. A simple mat and an ordinary stitching of multiple blankets to better contain her bodily temperature. Still wearing the same clothes she had worn all day and without a washing down of herself. Marie was forced to sleep in her dirt and sun heated sweat since she was over worked and too exhausted to pat herself down. She would've hated it if she wasn't so accustomed.
As she rested her heavy head on the soft pillow Marie disappeared like her soul ran away. Leaving behind the small child who had tracked her to her bed. Turning away, he looked up to the sky, staring at the ceiling above. Having been in the dark for some time his eyes had adjusted just minerly but even then, he still was unable to see much. And that didn't really matter.
He wasn't scared of the dark indoors. He has well-known his house and the dark inside at night was just another part of it. The thing he fears was its sheer size outside. It was far-reaching, hugely monstrous like torrential rain flooding the plains, engulfing everything that stood yet he couldn't see a few inches past it. Quicking his heart and steadily closing its enormous maw to swallow him whole. Closing its mouth till he could see no more and darkness caged him. Till he saw nobody with him and was left alone.
Staring at the roof, he should be sleeping by now and yet, he was awake and thinking. Shoulders under the fur and blanket keeping him warm, he wanted to hug something but alas, he had lost his fluffed animal.