"That's it, Elliot. That's all we did. We just hid like rats, like how they call us rats, and stole, same way they steal from themselves" Nile said as he finished his long explanation.
"Alright, like we planned. We'll meet tomorrow to continue," I said, standing. The three rose with me. My work hours had already passed. I'd be late, but within an hour, I could bleed a tree, same as yesterday when I had been knocked out and managed only one.
"Alright, Elliot, I'm fine with that." Nile's body was taller than mine, but his face still felt older, like staring into a mirror.
"Alright, you two. All is forgiven." I looked at Scar and Charly.
"We're sorry, but to be honest, it was Scar's idea all along," Charly said.
"Shut up!" Scar snapped, pale, his eyes locked on me.
"What the hell, man?" I said.
"Sorry. All is forgiven," Scar muttered, forcing out a handshake. The touch jolted me. Shaking another's hand felt strange, old, and refreshing. It reminded me of Earth. I reached back smiled, and shook.
I almost let myself sink into thought, but held it off. Better to put everything into running toward the Greenleg, then the Dragon trees.
...
An hour later, I had my gear packed, from needle to bag. I started scouting. Maybe I could use hearing to find Dragon trees. The idea of liquid sound inside them was good, but sight still worked better. Hearing only caught one at a time, depending on my eyes and focus, It was too slow.
What if I could hold it longer? The ability to hear all information within twenty feet. Could I stretch it? Hear everything at once, clear and sharp. A name came to mind, Resonance Control, something clean to call it forth. But that would take training.
I decided to hold off on the idea for now. Just using it strained my mind. One step at a time. First, I would work on controlling my SC.
Another thirty minutes passed before I found a Dragon tree. I bled it quickly this time, though hauling the container back to the post took longer. The Trackters were already done for the day, the sun hanging low. I waited, knowing it was pointless to start again. Soon, I spotted Max, Will, and Masy.
We walked with Jack, who talked about farming in his youth. He was at least five years older than most of us, maybe a decade older than me. Truth is, I didn't know how old I really was.
The barn was the same as always. While working, I spoke with Will about pay. Ten copper monthly, he said, but they gave grain weekly. Enough for one extra loaf of bread. Good, but not enough. I wanted to keep growing. Most of all, I didn't want to starve.
On the way home, I thought about the day, and the last four in this world. Ender. Strange. The silver moon above me. Elliot's memories made it easier, more natural.
Elliot's father was never there. His mother, a mystery. She fed him in the early years, but mostly he just watched her—sad and silent. Then one day, she was gone. No goodbye. He was nameless, without fate, until the old man found him. A child drifting like wind.
Back at my hut, I organized what I had. The cold pressed in, so I put on all my clothes. Bread was gone—I had eaten the last piece from yesterday's loaf. Only two grains left.
But I had twenty silver now. Enough for an inn. Ten would cover two weeks, maybe more if I stretched it. Inns served breakfast too. Worth considering. I decided I would think more about it tomorrow. I had no work, which meant I could go over much more.
Before going to bed and entering the dreaming, I decided to eat a full loaf of bread. This time, I would feel full. I thought it would be best.
Pop!
The grain formed into a hard loaf of bread. I dipped it into my mouth as I sat on the ground, leaning my back against the bed. I held onto today. Tomorrow would be bright and hopeful, and I would keep moving forward.
Again, like last night, I gripped my dagger as I lay flat on the bed. My eyes shut. My emotions calmed. In the sober and quiet silence came a strange freedom in the darkness. And there, I fell into the dream—into the dreaming.
My eyes opened. The gray roof is no more. Now there was falling snow. It dropped onto my face, rubbing its fibers into my skin. My mind was calm, but the ice grew warmer. This time, the feeling was excitement—what beast would I find? Could I slay it? Or would I die by its fangs? Again and again, into the storm.
My shoes sank into the snow, my strength full and ready. Into the storm—the icy storm, the cold and undying storm.