Short stories.

Kraju- Ch. 1

The thing that bugs me so much about dusk is the manual labour that comes with it. Ever since I reached adolescence, nightfall has meant manual labour and blood with a side serving of gunshots and snoring. That’s what it means to the entirety of Sudbina; from the oldest man to the youngest girl. I look at the hands of the young pupils in my class and I can see their nails stained with the blood, a faint red splattered on their clothes and clumping their hair strands together. They know no better, and nor do I. In our world, to survive is to win.

I walk along the old path outside our chalet, my old boots crunching in the early October leaves. From behind me I hear the faint murmurs of the hunters, with their conversation revolving around the woman and her child they caught last night. Their ammunition clicks against their belts as they take their steps, giving me a sense of security and familiarity as the sun disappears into the horizon. A good few years before I was born, the community of Sudbina called a meeting to arrange that all must work to win. They decided to set out their troops from nightfall until an hour before dawn; the best time to catch the one that flees. The men who walk behind me were those who were in the meeting and my mother reminds me to thank them for all they have done to our once murky reside. I continue to walk and gently slip my hand up onto my wrist. My fingers clasp it tight as I exhale and turn the corner around an oak tree, too large to cut down. Smoke is beginning to bloom up into the air as mother’s light fires for their sleeping children before heading out for the night’s work. It’s a gentle reminder that even the flames can bring such peace. I’m beginning to make my way up the rickety wooden steps that conjoin Subdina to the acres of Sisarka when a gruff voice hollers out to me.

“Yo, Althea!” He’s calling.

I look up to see the grey bearded face of our elder, Gasper. His face smiles fondly at me as I find myself smiling back up at him.

“G’Evenin, Gasper, sir.” I respond. He waits until I have reached the top of the flight of stairs and then hands me a sword.

“Yo, Althea,” he repeats. “How are you all doing down suburb? Missus fairin’ well?”

“Yessir,” I nod. “My mama is fine, and for all I know so’s the rest of suburb. How’s you, sir?”

“We’re doing all good, lady. I got a grandboy few days back, you hear?”

“Yessir, I did. My mama sent her congratulations and gifts up to Cradleside.”

He smiles and nods at men who walked behind me smiling back down at me.

“Are you all prepared for Kraju tomorrow, little lady?”

I form a fake smile and nod once. “We are indeed. We’re confident it’s none o’ us, sir.”

“Say, Althea, lift your sleeve and lemme see your wrist, will you?”

I promptly take the holster on my belt and slide the sword in before lifting up the tatty sleeve of my dress. His rough hand lifts my wrist to his eyes and I feel his breath. He take his other hand and taps the black tallys that line my vein, one nudge for each one.

“Say, Althea, these are fadin’ well,” he sighs and lets me go.

“Yessir, they are. They were much darker a week ago. We gottem coloured last year but mama reckons it’s going too quick to be normal. She says I’ll be safe till next year, though.”

“You think?” He says.

“Yeah. I reckon so.”

He moves his hand up to his beard and scratches. “Reckonin’ might be risky, lady. You’re lucky it’s tomorrow and no latter. I doubt you’d be able to make it any farther.”