act22side

*sigh* Never imagined we'd get a hot meal indoors safe and sound, after so many days on the run.

That Bagpipe girl must be the darling of everyone. We were all gushing to her about how good her stew was.

Mm, she's definitely not bad on that front.

How's your discussion on settling down? Has it been smooth?

We're all decided. Anyone who can't handle rushing'll stay behind. They'll borrow two storehouses to tuck away in for the next two days.

Refugees scuffling with caravans but never actually stealing anything, that's dead common. The law won't get hung up on that.

In a few days, they won't be mentioning it on the radio anymore, and we won't need to hide. Then we can get to building our own houses.

Er, but the few with Oripathy'll be living a bit ways out from the village.

The people here are very friendly.

*sigh* Yeah, they are. If anyone sheltered us while we were still running, we wouldn't be in this sty of a state now.

Not that it's anyone's fault. Didn't used to be much hassle taking in a bunch of refugees or the like, but life's getting scarier for everyone now.

Look at Selmon, the colleen. If she and her brother had someplace to take them in, she wouldn't be running from settlement to settlement, kicking up all this fuss.

She could spend the night in the village like us, but she's all stubborn about hiding outside. Since she stole a man's stockbeast here once, see, and now she's awkward about running into him...

...*sigh* You never heard it from me. You let her know, she'll be on my case about disrespecting her again.

Good evening...

Oh, Moran? What are you doing here, so dark out? I'll send you back while the lamps are still lit...

Thank you, but I'm used to making my way in the dark by now...

...Is Reed here, if you don't mind?

You're looking for her? She went out on her own.

Maybe Reed's got something on her mind... Selmon hasn't spoken so much as a word to her since she got here.

Don't worry, Bagpipe's gone to find her.

Hm... actually, put it this way. Our bigger concern is if Reed gets annoyed by the noise.

Whoa, sorry!

...It's alright.

Oh, I wasn't watchin' out, didn't think there'd be anyone here. It all goes pitch dark every time they sound the bell. Takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

Lucky it's you I ran into. Might've knocked anyone else clean over.

Thought they said they wouldn't need anyone on watch tonight, though?

I just... wanted to sit for a while outside.

Oh, it's the smell of the hay, isn't it? Wonderful, that.

...Hay?

Yeah, that's hay piles over there. Been ages since I was around the smell, so I came out to get a proper whiff of them.

Back when I was preppin' to get into military school, I'd have headaches from studyin' so much theory. So I'd just get onto a hay pile and lie back for a bit, and I'd feel right as rain again.

Mum always told me off for bein' lazy, said I shouldn't quit thinkin' about questions just because thinkin' gets too hard... but havin' too much stuff goin' on in your brain does wear a person out, y'know.

...Mm.

So, give me your hand a sec?

Um...

Come on, here now, let's lie down together! Just for a bit!

I'm not so good at thinkin' over stuff, so I might not be of much help to you, but the hay will be, I'm sure of it!

Hup—!

Bagpipe relaxes and lies back on the hay pile, lightly humming a folksong she learned just a while ago from the farmers.

A gentle night breeze passes by. Reed follows her suggestion, and takes a deep breath.

But what she smells isn't the aroma of hay—it is, instead, damp mud and ash.

When it hits me how I've spent three years without goin' home, it always feels so funny.

Think about it. The ground's waitin' for you to till it, the wheat's waitin' for you to reap it... Spend one year away, and you miss an entire go round of all the important stuff, every bit of it.

I can't even get my letters from home until the next time I'm back on Rhodes Island.

Do you... miss home very much?

Course I do. You? Were you from County Hillock?

...No.

But I used to live in a city about the same as County Hillock... flushed red bricks, grey pavements. Buildings two or three floors high, flowering vines growing around the windows.

I... yearn after those peaceful times a lot.

There were so many old books at home, and some manuscripts too. I liked to hide away in the study, and lock the door, so I wouldn't have to hear anyone talk to me.

Oh, you had piles of family makin' a racket, then? Or was it visitors all the time?

...No, thankfully. Just—I could avoid so much trouble if I hid.

I could see into the street from the window in there. I'd see my parents come back after a day of work.

I would love to go back there, if I could.

Oh. So the place isn't...

Mm.

I'm sorry... I'm makin' it worse for you, aren't I?

It's okay. It was all so long ago.

I might not be much different—to the ordinary people whose lives were ruined at County Hillock, or to these refugees leaving their home behind.

They can all settle down here, and rebuild their houses... but—where is their homeland?

And the ones who are—forced out even farther... where are they fleeing to?

Hmm... You're havin' trouble answerin' these questions just on your lonesome, aren't you?

Mm...

But I'm not sayin' it's no use thinkin' over them!

If you can't come up with an answer alone, we can think together. Whenever I had a question I couldn't fill in, I'd always bother Chenchen about it.

And later down the line, I'd prattle on at my captains... I mean, they found me annoyin' as flip, but still, they'd chat with me every time, help me solve issues.

What about you? You got anyone to speak your mind to? Like a sister or a schoolmate or someone in arms, that sort of...

There's... my older sister.

But...

You don't get along much?

...No. I shouldn't be saying this. I shouldn't...

Y'know, Selmon was right about one thing, actually. You're always sayin' 'no' out of habit.

But she misunderstood a little. It's when you're talkin' about yourself that you're most fond of sayin' 'no', like... och, I can't put it into words. It's like you're strainin' to break away from somethin'.

...I've been told something like that before.

Oh, what? Really?

She... saved me, and told me, I didn't have to seek death. That I could dodge destiny.

Outcast, eh. There's somethin' she would say.

I regret... I regret not having it in me to say anything more to her.

I want to ask her so badly—why save me?

What... did she see in me?

Ohh. I'm not sure how she'd answer myself.

But, y'know, Reed, why not ask yourself before askin' her? What do you see in yourself?

My... self?

Oh, someone's over there.

With the way they feel about, I think it's Moran... She can't see at night.

Gosh, why's she out here by herself, then?

Miss Moran! Need any help from us?

Oh, you just stand still there for a sec, we'll be right over.

...Thank you.

Where's Reed, can I ask? They said, she'd gone out.

I'm right here.

...Sorry. Excuse me, but am I able to go with you?

I don't mind where it is. I've still got some strength, I can work... and fight.

You want to... fight?

I do. They all say I won't live much longer, that my only option's dying without a word in some corner.

I don't agree with that.

'If you want to survive as a Taran, then change workshops, and accept lower pay'. 'If you want to survive as with Oripathy, then move out, and get to the Infected neighborhood'...

I'm done listening to all that.

Reed, I used to not be this way, but then I met you.