The drafting

"Hello, I am looking for a someone called Momo." Karaza asked, standing near the door of a wooden warehouse.

"...Roxanne sent you I assume?" The big guy said. She nodded.

"That would be me, My name is Mahmood, you?"

"I knew she trolled me. I'm called Karaza, I wanna do my six months volunteering." She murmured the first sentence before properly introducing herself.

"Don't fret it, that is my nick name.. unfortunately." He talked while they walked inside the warehouse.

It looked bigger than it seemed from the outside, even though it seemed massive. Karaza looked left and right and up, suspecting a second floor above them. It was one open square with different stations separated by a spacious walking area.

A desk and drawers units in the corner of the warehouse he took her Identification number and did some paper work.

"So, here we do bunch of odd jobs, we prepare food, iron clothes, wash and sanitize jars. Over all random physical labor. If you have skills in something specific I will refer you to the respective institution. There is also- never mind, you're new here so it's early for home visits to take care of others and stuff. So what do you say?"

He glanced back at the hexagonal board, where the word 'mercenary' sat as her previous occupation.

"I don't have any special skills, random jobs are fine."

'The land of the unwanted, eternal summer and mineral soil that makes farming quite difficult. As more human born with deformities at birth, incurable illness and infertility, this place became the sanctuary of these people where they can get medication, education, work and live without injustice looming over them. This city, Tribunalis Ad Mare is the second largest city after the capital so it gets loads of newcomers.'

She did a mental revision of what she knew about this place as Momo walked her to the back of the warehouse.

"Today is more or less an introduction. You see this board, it has all the current jobs and at which station it gets done. Each station has a supervisor of its own that will manage the station and the tasks preformed in it."

They went out trough the back door. A vast pond covered in green color. was in what she assumed is the backyard of the warehouse.

"You see, duckweed is a stable food ingredient here, wanna start by harvesting some?"

"Yes." She said in calm determination, like it was a dangerous mission of some sort.

She was thankful that she wore a simple light dress. The pond's supervisor showed her how to sift out the plant with a big sifter.

'I thought they will make a hexagonal sifter.' She thought to herself while sifting in a slow graceful motion before throwing the harvest in a large container.

After an hour she walked to the last green patch in the pond ready to finish the job but the supervisor called her.

" Please leave these so they can multiply, spread them with the sifter if you can." The old woman said while scooping duckweed from the large container into smaller boxes.

Karaza spent a good twenty minutes spreading the duckweed evenly in the pond going back and forth in opposite directions of the pond.

"What's she doing?" Momo came to the pond asked the supervisor.

"She's trying to spread them evenly, too evenly I would say." She chuckled warmly, going back to her work. Momo got shocked when he saw the amount she harvested.

Inside the warehouse he walked her to the ironing station.

"Since you seem a perfectionist, this might suit ya."

She held the iron, pumping steam like crazy.

"I never held one of these before."

"Well, now you have." The station supervisor replied, not phased by what he heard.

She kept ironing for hours, rendering Momo worried and the supervisor busy with moving ironed clothes.

"It's time for lunch break newbie, take it easy or your arms will ache later."

"This much is fine."

"We prefer to take rests here."

"Ah, got it."

She took her tray, of duckweed omelet, mushroom soup and a slice of meat, as well as a red block with some nuts on it.

'A.. a brick?'

In the outside rest area she headed toward the shaded benches, sitting down near bunch of people with scars on their face and some ivory limps.

She and they were all awkward, exchanging half murmured greetings and stiff nods.

She started with the mystery red brick, it was crumbly, breaking at the scoop of the spoon.

" That's a dessert." The woman sitting next to her said.

"Too late." She took another bite, enjoying how the semolina dessert taste. Mercenaries ate without caring about the order of things, as long as it was edible.

Two men in front of her argued about the name of the brick, saying it's called halwa. The other argued that halwa was a white block made out of sesame, the woman next to her argued that the white sesame block is called Tahownia, actually. Karaza came to the conclusion that brick shaped things are delicious.

As the argument died down, the woman exchanged acknowledgment glances.

"Assassin?"

"Mercenary. Solider?"

"Bingo."

"Mina."

"Karaza."

She felt the familiarity coming with that rugged short way of talking. She gave the woman a quick evaluating glance. Short black hair, defined arms and a confident yet relaxed posture.

"Mercenary? is that a code for a spy or something?" One of the men asked.

" It's for people who stand on the human territory boarders and fight off creature that takes human form and tries to Infiltrate between us." Mina explains, biting on a tooth pic.

"From what I know at least."

She looks at Karaza as a gesture of asking for conformation. Who just nods in agreement. She wanted to add that they fight other creatures even if they didn't take a human shape, but that seems unnecessary. 

"We are all here veterans of some sort. You look in good shape though, why you're here?" the other man asked.

"Out of my prime." She said unoffended, before taking a suspicious bite of the green omelet, getting pleasantly surprised with the taste.

"Out of what? You're like... twenty three?" He continued.

"Twenty five.. probably."

"Well still.."

"You know how the nobles and the higher ups are, they trash you in any minute." Another man with an ivory arm says. "So, how can you tell if someone isn't actually human?" He asks her further, intrigued.

"With the smart ones you can't tell, till they attack. The others use grammar incorrectly and tilt their heads in a weird angle."

Everyone's intrigue died down with the answer, mostly the first part of it. Their break was ending as well.

"Do you think some managed to infiltrate ?" Mina asked with a curios smile.

"Probably not." Karaza said to her, with a straight face nonetheless.

Mina stood up, holding her tray.

"Well, nice to meet ya. Also put some sound in your steps, you almost freaked me out when you came here." She whispered before waving to her.

She ironed for the rest of the day, although she was sad that the supervisor didn't let her finish the last five shirts and told her to go home.

Walking back home she contemplated the presence of a warm feeling in her chest.

'Maybe it's the heat of the steam?'

That was the conclusion she managed for now.

For the next three weeks her main tasks reside in the duckweed pond and the ironing station. Fishing debris out of the pond and pouring fertilizers as well as harvesting.

As for the current week Momo thought her how to plant mushrooms in wood logs. Getting shocked again when she drilled mushroom spores in almost a hundred logs in two days.

He looked at her white hair and gray eyes.

'Half albinos huh? Absolute health as the rumors say.'

"Do you wanna try working in the kitchen?" He asked her while she irons.

"I, myself not a fan of my own cooking. " She said, eyes glued to the iron traveling the piece of fabric.

" No like, as in cutting food and lifting heavy boxes. They are short handed there and you can handle a harder task from what I see."

"Hello, I would like to pay my bills." A woman came to Momo, pausing his offer.

He took her Identification number, referred her to the sewing station supervisor and came back to Karaza who was watching the interaction, a little confused.

"You can pay your bills with volunteer work if things got rough one day."

"I see."

The kitchen was loud and crowded. She was running with vegetable boxes, chopping them roughly before putting them in the hexagonal food processor.

Running with the chopped carrots and potatoes to the soup station, tomato and onions to stews station, and whatever the chef yells to whatever station.

Feeding the usually weak newcomers to the land of the unwanted was a fast paced task, but in slow days when not many are entering she was directed to feed who settled here newly, focusing on medication and rehabilitation before getting up on their feet.

It was strange, it was just lifting boxes and chopping vegetables but for some reason she wanted to do it again and again.


Near Tribunalis Ad Mare city general hospital she was stocking her Tabaco stash with the usual two refills. The magnetic vending machine didn't let her buy more quantity so she was there regularly, meeting with a nameless person from time to time, which was good since she already broke the ice and asked something personal and he didn't mind she was able to ask him what was socially appropriate, like that time where a chef called another one a 'Dardio' Which was a word for old people who got abandoned by their families and cut of their means.

It wasn't technically a slur, but it was loaded.

When she told him he got surprise, and when told her it was on the same level of 'stupid' or 'Dumbass' here it made sense. For the chefs interaction at least, how a foul insult became a normal one didn't make sense yet.

Today she was smoking on the shaded bench between the vending machine and the hospital. He was there too.

He felt some tension in the way she smoked, something her flat expression didn't give but a fellow smoker knew.

"Another semi-slur culture confusion?" He joked lightly.

" I think I got interrogated today." She puffed some smoke.

"What happened?" He asked calmly.

"My supervisor asked me if I have any skills or hobbies or if I want to study something."

"And?"

"He's obviously not happy with the results I bring."

"Because?"

"Because they always tell me to go home and now he asks if I want to apply to some where else, maybe he doesn't want me there."

" That's not what he intends. Listen." He takes a long inhale and puffs it out slowly leaning his back fully against the bench.

"Back in the day here, almost no body reached the age of thirty. reaching twenty six was the biggest deal of them all."

"So?"

"So everybody lived with the need to do something grand with their short life. Academia, hobbies, traveling, mom and dad. Whatever and that still lingers to this day. Its your supervisor job to help you figure something out." He figured it's not something she can interrupt without a history lesson.

He let that linger for a moment.

" Also everyone has to go home before sunset, except hospitals workers and firefighters."

" But I haven't serve my six months volunteering yet."

"Honey chill, Even I still have a week to serve."

They had a stern eye contact while blowing smoke, her confirming he's serious, him convincing her it is not that serious.

"You can make big dresses or something."

The disinterest in her expression tempted him.

"You seriously have nothing you wanna do?"

She looks at the pavement, her pipe dies down.

"How do you find something you wanna do anyway?"

"That's one solid question."

In the morning she was heading toward the kitchen when many peoples hexagonos started making noises, one unharmonized sound to be exact.

"Oh, I got drafted." Someone in the street tells his friend.

"Me too, then no work today."

'He said drafting right? I thought no one interested in attacking this land!'

Many young people stared automatically walking to the same destination.

She entered the kitchen with plethora of new faces who formed a line, Momo was taking their Identification numbers and other info.

"Mornin' kid, today is gonna be crazy you ready?" A chef called her.

"Wait, you still new here, you can't get drafted." Another chef commented.

"She's serving her six months you moron." The chef said and went to his tasks.

"Boo." Certain someone with a holographic overalls and green boots says.

She looks at Roxy like she's the plague itself. Her hexagono floating in the air.

"Roxanne , I sent you the privilege. Start another line." Momo shouted from afar.

"Yessir." She give the newbie a shoulder pat and went ahead.

"What's happening?" She whispered to Ryu who she just noticed even though he was there the whole time.

"We're getting drafted." He answered while tying his apron.

"Sometimes the government workers can't handle the numbers of comers to the land, hence capable people must help with sorting the new comers." He gave a useful answer this time, covering his hair and wearing some gloves.

"You thought we're going to war or something?"

"Of course not." She scoffed confidently.

'THEN DON'T CALL IT A DAMN DRAFTING!' She yelled internally.

"Well, gotta go. Stay hydrated." He said, going to the baking station.

Unlike her thoughts her movement were clam albeit quick, she mainly transported boxes of ingredients to the kitchen and bakery.


Near the kitchen was the Mare city reception where crowds upon crowds of people were sitting down on chairs and benches, some were standing from pure alertness.

Some of the new comers were malnourished, most had injuries or illness and all of them seemed tried to a degree or another.

"Phase red is almost complete. Start the last check. Over." Roxy talked into her hexagono while giving out bottles of water and quenchy until she saw a mother with a child.

"Ma'am, Can you come with me? we must insure your child doesn't have any organ deformities. You also should get some tests." She asked in Latin when few words in Sadi appeared insufficient.

Roxy gave her some quenchy and after some hesitation the woman followed her out of the crowd to the near clinic.

"Square 4 stage red complete. Over."

"Square 5 stage red complete. Over."

"Square 2 stage red complete. Over."

"Square 1 stage red complete. Over."

"Square 3 stage red complete. Over."

"Kitchen, food will be sent now. Over."

"How is the last round?" Momo asked Roxy, who finished her quenchy and took a megaphone.

"All infants and critical conditions should be in clinic and hospitals by now." Roxy replied, then rose the megaphone and started speaking.

"Yello everyone! has anyone separated from their family in the crowd or in the way here? please raise your hand." Momo drank his quenchy, watching her repeat the same sentence in Sadi, Russian, Italian, and broken Arabic and Greek. Four times for each language.

'We should prepare better roads to the land, it'll make it easier for the new comers.' He thought.

New comers eat their meal while workers reunited people who separated from one another. People who were relatively healthy did their paperwork and went to the temporary accommodation.

It was one of the few exceptions were people continued working after the sunset.

Momo, Natasha, the chefs and literally everyone else laid down on the benches, absolutely wrecked, but all new comers were sorted out, sleeping with full stomachs or in the operation room.

"I never baked like that in a long time." Ryu said with a content expression after stretching, he collected plates and put them near the sink where Karaza was washing the dishes.

"How do you bake on demand, doesn't the dough need fermentation?"

"We have pre fermented flour for that."

"Is that a thing? never mind of course it is."

"My sleep schedule is nuuuuked." Roxy sang before turning on the vacuum to clean the floor.

"Roxy sama, I'll help ya." Natasha stood up, grabbing another vacuum.

"Alright everybody, let's thug the rest out, remember the poor surgeons who gonna stay all night." Momo clapped his hands, cheering everybody one last time for today. They stood up and finished the task.

And one heck of a long day was over.