Teach Me

4

Banebrook was a town that the Adien forces had liberated a few years ago. In return for their loyalty and willingness to house and sustain traveling Adien soldiers, they were guaranteed safety from the Ostara, were given weapons, and were provided any technologies the village needed.

I watched as the village greeted Locke and his soldiers with open arms, a contrary reaction to how my home village had treated them.

Rather than burning and looting and committing acts of violence against its inhabitants as the Ostara did when they entered a village, Locke and his men treated them with respect. Thanked them for providing them with rations and extra supplies to make the trip home. Conversed with them. Laughed with them.

It was unusual.

"Hello, dear," an older woman greeted me as she approached. She was wearing jeans. Jeans!

"Hello," I said with a small smile.

"Have you eaten yet today?" She asked.

With a shake of my head, I answered. "No, not yet."

She pulled a sack from around her shoulders and opened it up. She handed me an apple as well as a warm chunk of bread and some butter from the bag.

"I just took the bread off the cooling racks!" She said.

"Thank you, I'm very grateful for your generosity." In Flawmore, people kept to themselves, not offering to give a helping hand or assist someone when they had the extra resources. Everyone was for themselves.

"Of course, dear. I do hope you enjoy it. It was my grandmother's recipe."

I held the fresh bread up to my nose and inhaled. "It smells amazing. I am sure it will taste as such."

She patted me softly on the shoulder and offered me another smile before going on her way.

I hoped Locke's hometown was just as welcoming and friendly as this one.

After the woman left, my eyes almost instinctively sought out Locke. I saw him, standing in front of a lovely young woman. They were standing close and she had her arm around his bicep.

I felt an odd sense of disappointment within me, and I wasn't sure why. I hadn't considered that he might be in a relationship.

Though, I pushed that disappointment to the back of my mind. It mattered not. The only thing my mind should have been focused on was survival and self-preservation, in this new, unfamiliar land.

I watched them for a few moments before adverting my gaze when I felt another odd burning feeling in my chest.

"What do you think?" The man that had been earlier identified as Bram asked me.

"What do I think?" I repeated, confused by the question.

"Well, what do you think? Do you like us? How we do things?"

I was taken aback by his questions. No man had ever asked for my opinion before.

I swallowed deeply before answering. "I think you're all very different from the people I've known in my home village."

Bram smiled slightly. "Yes, that is the goal. Fuck the Ostara."

My eyes widened. I still wasn't used to such outward and aggressive displays of Ostara slander, but still, I couldn't help the smile that formed on my lips. I agreed with his sentiment and had for many years.

"Is Clearhelm like this village?" I asked.

Another larger smile appeared on his face. "Yes, but even better." It seemed he was proud of his town, of where he was from, of what he represented.