Heart of Dorkness

Scourge Thirty-Seven - Future

The flight was mostly fun. I say mostly because for the last twenty minutes or so, Bianca has been holding on so tight to my waist that it’s making it a little hard to breathe.

I mean, I love hugs as much as the next person, but Bianca’s grip is a bit past hug-strength and well into leave-bruises strength. I want to tell her to relax a bit, but she’s afraid, and the hug is kind of nice.

“Just don’t look down,” I say as I do just that.

“I’m not looking anywhere, trust me,” Bianca says. “I didn’t think I was afraid of heights.”

“Oh, you’re fine,” I say. “It’s not heights, really. Heights is being high up off the ground but still on something stable. You know, standing next to an edge. This is fear of flying. There’s no edge to stand on. I get why you’re more nervous.”

The other monster friend swoops by, and Felix whoops in delight, her arms raised up and the only thing holding her in place is Esme who’s giving her all sorts of heck for her troubles.

Looking out towards the horizon, the sun is almost gone over the mountains to the west. I guess having huge mountains there makes it so that night arrives a little early in this part of the world. The sky is shading to orange, but it’s still a pretty eggshell blue above us. “We should start looking for a place to camp,” I say.

We haven’t been flying for very long, but I’m worried that if we don’t find a place to stay soon, we’ll have to start looking in the dark, and that will make everything much harder.

I stare down below until I spot a clearing a bit to the north west of us, just a big rocky hillside, surrounded by big old trees. That looks like a good spot. Far from any roads, with the hill to provide cover from the wind.

I direct my bird friend that way, and the other wheels around to follow.

We spin around the spot a few times, and confirm that it’s a pretty bland place, just a few scraggly bushes competing with jutting rocks covered in fuzzy moss.

Bianca and I land first, then Felix and Esme come in and clatter to a landing just a bit above us on a bed of loose gravel.

“That was fun, why are we stopping?” Felix asks.

“It’s almost nighttime, you doofus,” Esme says. She’s the first off her bird and the first to set foot on the uneven ground. “We’re setting up camp here?”

“Around here,” I say. “It looks like a nice spot.”

She nods, then gestures to the ground at the base of the hill. “We’ll need to set our tents down there if we want the pegs to hang onto the ground.”

“Could just magic the rock a bit,” Felix says as she dismounts.

I help Bianca dismount, and if she’s a little wobbly after our flight, I don’t comment. “We could,” I say. “But then we’ll be sleeping on stone. Besides, the ground’s uneven here.”

“Right,” Felix says. “Dirt is softer... speaking of soft, when did I become so soft? Was a time I wouldn’t have blink at sleeping on some rocks.”

“A life of luxury will do that to you,” Esme says.

Felix laughs, then starts unpacking her bird. I do the same, and with the others joining in, soon our birdy friends are free to find a nice spot to stand very, very close together atop a flattish piece of stone.

We drop our bags down at the base of the hill, on a spot where the low hanging branches create a bit of a canopy and where there’s a nice laying of mossy ground to work with. Felix starts unpacking our tent.

We only have the one, but it’s a big one, meant to hold four, and that’s four mercenary-types, so I figure we don’t have anything to worry about.

In the meantime, Esme and I head out into the woods and look for branches. I find a few that have fallen already, and even get Esme to help me carry back this one long and thick branch that’s fallen a good fifty metres into the woods.

Once we’ve gathered enough for a small fire, Bianca--who has been building a small pit with some loose rocks--lights up the smaller branches with a bit of willpower, and I help Felix finish putting up the tent.

It only collapses twice. Why is it so hard to get a few poles to stick up?

Once camp is set, the sun decides to do the same, and between one minute and the next, our visibility is cut down to nearly nothing.

It’s a bit chilly, but we have the fire going, and Esme pulls out a pot and starts dumping some of the supplies we bought into it and mixing with a long ladle. Felix is eyeing her like a famished dog staring at untended sausages.

Bianca settles down on the ground next to me. Not so close that she’s touching, but not too far either. She brings her knees up, and stares into the little fire, which snaps and crackles as the more humid branches catch fire.

“Valeria,” she starts. “Do you mind if I ask you a question? And feel free to tell me if I’m being impatient.”

“Of course, go ahead,” I say. I reach out with a stick and poke at the fire, but then Esme gives me a dirty look, and I stop. It’s sending a bunch of embers up into the air and she is kind of leaning over the pot.

Setting Esme’s bushy hair on fire would probably not amuse her very much.

“What do you expect out of your future?” Bianca asks.

I blink. “Out of my future? Uh. I don’t know. It’s not really something I think about a lot. I mean, why would I, right?”

“I suppose.”

The camp starts to fill with the enticing scent of boiling veggies, and Esme starts cutting up some slices of jerky and tossing them into the pot.

“Do you worry?” I ask.

Bianca leans into her legs a little more, making herself smaller. “A little. Honestly, there’s not much of a future for me in Caselfella. Not being born the way I was. It’s... frustrating, to know that you’re capable of so much more, but won’t be allowed to try because of something outside of your control. I suppose it just means that I wasn’t fortunate.”

“It’s not so bad,” Felix says. “I mean, you seem well-fed enough.”

“Yes, I can’t complain too much,” Bianca says. “I’ve never lacked for anything but opportunity.”

I hum. “I guess... I guess I have the opposite problem?”

“How so?” Bianca asks.

“Well, Mom is... Mom. She’s big and strong and awesome, and she really does love me. I think I could tell her that I want to dig in the dirt to collect worms for the rest of my life, and her response would be to move the castle to a place with better dirt for worm farming. It’s... yeah. I could do anything. But I don’t know what to do sometimes. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Bianca says.

“My dream is to die fat and old,” Felix says with unwavering certainty. “Fat, old, and happy.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You do have it all figured out,” I say.

Felix nods. “Damn right.”

Esme laughs. “Since you have it all figured out, how about you fetch the bowls and spoons?”

“What about you, Esme?” Bianca asks. “What do you want in your future?”

Esme glanced up from her work, peeked at me, then refocused on stirring. “I... I don’t know,” she says. “I guess I’ll become an archivist, like my parents before me. It’s what I’ve always wanted. And... and maybe I’ll work hard to become strong too. A powerful cultivator, so that I can live a long life, and have more time for the things, the people, I love.”

“That’s actually very nice,” Bianca says.

“Sure,” Esme agrees. I have the impression she wants to move past the subject. “Felix, where are those bowls, oh, right, line up girls, I have no idea if this will taste good or not, so we’ll have to see.”

My stomach gurgles in anticipation, and when I get my own bowl of piping-hot stew, I barely blow over it before munching down. There’s the clacking of woods on bowls, the crackle of the fire, and the merry songs of the last few birds rushing back to their homes for the night.

It’s a nice evening, all in all. Tomorrow we’ll be moving further north, maybe even reaching Semper’s stash by the early evening. It’s going to be an exciting day, so I’ll take what happy quiet I can get for now.

***