Haven
effervescent
- Discord
- haven#9716
I
THE SUN RISES OVER MOUNT YUKOPIKA as a boy in a milk-white parka coaxes embers into flame. At last, as though lit by the dawn itself, the kindling engulfs in a burst of red-hot light. The boy slumps back on his palms, digging his fingers into the damp earth for stability, as his tired face soaks up the warm glow of the campfire. He straightens his knees, still stiff from sleep, and his eyes follows the mist of his breath as it rises to the heavens. A few of the brightest stars can still be seen shining dimly in the purple sky. He stays still for a while, half-dreaming of the home he will never see again, and how his mother taught him to make real coffee and how she would make up stories about her life as they drank it together in the mornings before school. He would laugh and say,
Imi, that can’t be true.
And she would say,
Nothing is more true than a story, my dear Hanu.
His mind leaves the memory as a rustling starts from the tent behind him. He turns to see another boy emerge, stretch, and yawn. Hanu whispers to the boy,
Good morning, Ko.
Ko grumbles and plops down next to his friend, shivering.
Would you like some coffee?
He nods, rubbing the tired from his eyes. Hanu stands to grab a kettle, filling it with water, and sets it over the flames. He disappears for a moment into the tent and reappears with a tin box, paper filters, and something resembling a funnel. He sits and lays the assortment in his lap, and all is quiet again until the water comes to a rumbling boil in the kettle. He sets a filter into the cone of the funnel, which he sets on top of his tumbler, and scoops in some coffee form the box. Carefully, he takes the kettle from the flame and starts pouring slowly over the grounds.
The importance of the ritual is lost on Ko, who just wants something warm to fill his belly and shuffles impatiently as the filter drains.
Here.
Hanu removes the funnel and raises his tumbler to Ko, who opens his own to accept the portion.
Do you think the indigos will reach the capital one day?
They won’t stop until they’ve taken everything.
They must be prepared, though. The city. They’ll have defences.
Kohoy had defences.
What will happen if it’s invaded?
We’ll fight.
Ko sulks.
I can’t fight.
Hanu looks over at his friend, and half-smiles, mischievously.
It’s okay. I’ll protect you.
Ko elbows him and laughs.
Yeah, right.
Hanu knows he couldn’t fight either. The capital would be the safest place for them, for now. He wonders if they could save up to move overseas together, somewhere calm and warm where they would be safe forever. He often wonders strange things like that.
Eventually, it would be time to pack the tent and continue north, but for now they sip lazily as the valley brightens around them.
II
A CABIN APPEARS OVER THE HORIZON suspended in the tundra grass like a shipwreck at the bottom of the sea. A reindeer grazes freely nearby. The boys would normally be weary of strangers, especially in the middle of nowhere, but after a half-days trek they are tired and desperately hungry. Smoke rising from a chimney signals that someone is home. They glance at each other, as though to decide who should go and knock.
Ko volunteers without a word. A few quick knocks and they wait as footsteps approach, slow and shuffling. The door swings open with a drawn-out squeak, revealing an old lady wrapped in a black dressing gown, with long white hair and a terrible scar dividing her face. The woman looks surprised, as though she was expecting someone else. She quickly glances around to see if they’re alone.
What are you boys doing this far from town?
Her tone was scolding. Hanu walks up from behind the two.
Actually, ma’am, we’re coming from the south.
The woman frowns slightly. She whispers,
Kohoy?
Yes, ma’am.
She sighs, then nods, knowingly.
I see.
We were wondering… ma’am. Would you mind if we use your washroom? We’ll only stay a minute and—
Yes, of course.
She begins to shuffle off, but the boys hesitate. She turns again.
Get in. Quickly now, you’re letting the heat out.
The boys follow and shut the squeaky door, following her down a hallway.
Here it is. The faucet on the tub is a bit finicky and there’s not much hot water. Towels are under here. There’s a bedroom down this way. If you need anything, do let me know.
Thank you.
Thank you, ma’am.
You may stay as long as you need. No one has stopped by to visit since, well… for quite some time, and it would be lovely to have somebody to cook for again.
Despite the old lady’s hospitality, or perhaps because of it, the boys are still apprehensive. The prospect of a warm meal lowers their guard, however. They take turns cleaning up, and Hanu carries their bags to the guest room.
After a while, a delicious aroma pulls the boys into the kitchen. The old lady had already set out bowls of some sort of stew. They quickly engulf whatever it was, and the old lady smiles, satisfied.
You’ve made quite the journey.
We’ve camped for three nights now.
Mmh.
About three more and we’ll have reached the coast.
Smart of you to head north.
Mmh.
The conversation trails off there. She couldn’t ask them how they made it out, or who they left behind. Ko, who possesses no such tact, breaks the silence,
Why do you live out here all alone?
The old lady laughs.
Well, like you I’ve been driven from my home… by ignorant people.
Did you live in the village?
Yes, for many years. They… didn’t like the work I did. It scared them.
Is that how you got that scar?
Hamu shoots him a glance, then looks apologetically at the old woman. Ko blushes.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.
Oh, no. It’s alright to be curious. It’s… a mark. They mark exiles so that they may never return.
That’s terrible.
What is it that you did to scare them?
She doesn’t answer. He doesn’t press the question.
Well, you don’t scare us at all. You’re quite nice, actually. Thank you for the meal.
The old woman beams as the boys gather their dishes to set in the sink.
Yes, well, thank you. And good night to you both.
Good night, ma’am.
Good night.