The boy woke up earlier than usual.
Not because of a sound. If anything, the house was quieter than it had any right to be. He lay there for a while, listening, then gave up and sat up, pulling the thin blanket aside.
Outside, someone was already moving.
Footsteps. More than one set. Close together.
That hadn't been common before.
He got dressed, wrapped the mage's cloak around his shoulders, and stepped out. The air was cool enough to sting his lungs. Somewhere nearby, a door creaked open, then another. People spoke in low voices, the way they did when they didn't want to wake someone—or when they didn't want to be overheard.
He walked toward the square without really deciding to.
The Well
Someone had left the bucket by the well again.
It sat crooked on the stone rim, rope half-slack, water sloshing faintly when the wind moved it. The boy reached out, steadied it, then poured the water back down. It disappeared almost immediately.
He wiped his hands on the cloak and stood there longer than necessary.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd arrived late to something.
People Gathering
By the time the sun cleared the rooftops, the square had filled.
Not crowded. Just… occupied.
People stood in loose groups, arms folded, murmuring to one another. The boy recognized most of them. Some nodded when they saw him. Others looked past him like he wasn't quite there.
Oren was near the center.
The boy remembered him well enough—broad, loud, always complaining about something. Today he looked tired. There were shadows under his eyes, and his hands kept opening and closing like he was unsure what to do with them.
"Alright," Oren said eventually. "Let's just talk."
That was enough to quiet things down.
"We can't keep going like we are," Oren said. "The roads aren't safe. Supplies aren't coming in. Everyone knows that."
A few people nodded. Someone sighed.
"So we need to be careful," he went on. "We need to make what we have last."
Someone asked, "What are you suggesting?"
"We share," Oren said. "Evenly. Food, water. All of it."
There was a pause.
"And if someone doesn't?" another voice asked.
Oren hesitated, just a little. "Then we deal with it when it happens."
No one pushed further.
Rations
It started right away.
No one had planned it, not really. They just… did it.
People brought out sacks and jars. Portions were handed out. Some people got more than others. Some less. No one complained. No one wanted to be the first.
The boy watched from the edge, hands clenched in the sleeves of the cloak.
When it was nearly done, Oren frowned.
"Where's Mara?" he asked.
There was a short, uncomfortable silence.
"She lives near the fields," someone said.
"I'll go," Oren said. A few others followed.
The boy went too.
Mara's Door
Mara opened the door on the second knock.
She looked like she hadn't slept.
"I didn't steal," she said immediately.
Oren sighed. "No one said you did."
"Then why are you here?"
"You didn't come for your share."
"I was sick," she said. Her voice cracked. "I couldn't stand."
Oren nodded slowly. "Alright. Then you won't mind showing us what you've got."
Her hands shook as she stepped aside.
There were sacks. Not many. Enough.
"I saved over time," she said quickly. "Just in case."
"In case of what?" someone asked.
"In case this happened," she said.
That was when people started talking over one another.
"She planned ahead."
"She didn't tell anyone."
"She didn't trust us."
Mara's face went red. "I didn't know I had to."
Trying to Speak
The boy stepped forward before he realized he was moving.
"She didn't do anything wrong," he said. His voice wavered, and he hated that it did. "She just… prepared."
Oren looked at him for a long moment.
"And if everyone did that?" he asked. "What would happen then?"
The boy opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Mara looked at him anyway.
He wished he hadn't stepped forward.
A Reasonable Solution
No one shouted.
No one drew a weapon.
Someone suggested she give up what she had.
Someone else said that wasn't enough.
Finally, Oren spoke again.
"She can go," he said. "We won't hurt her."
Mara stared at him.
"We'll take the grain," he continued. "That way it's fair."
"And I go where?" she asked.
Oren didn't answer.
After
They walked her to the gate.
Someone handed her a loaf of bread at the last moment. Another took it back when no one was looking.
The gates closed.
People drifted away.
It was dark by the time the boy returned to the square.
He sat on the steps and tried not to think about the cold.
The card beneath his cloak pressed against his chest, heavier than it had been before.
He didn't touch it.
He didn't want to know what it meant.