A pretty calm exchange, all in all

“You ask for who I am, Peregrina, but I have already said that. Are you, other than old, foolish?” The elf repeated the words asked, her tone calm, somewhat uppity, her nose up and her mouth in a frown.

Like one of those posh people that expected you to know them.

“I just want to be sure of something, if the Spirits will let me. After all , we are all here in good faith, are we not?” She tilted her walking cane, still picking the armour like a woodpecker.

Her smile was still there, still disarming, still making me want to run out of my home

Same went for Ingrid, who was now using my arm as a minder, much to my pain and dismay at being unable to move.

Lis, instead, was mimicking she was sleeping, to have the perfect reason to not do anything.

No!

Do not leave!

We don’t want to be here alone!

We may accept to help, but not without you here!

The Nissers, who could not run, begged me to remain there, along with hearth trembling.

Grandma was that scary.

The elf, instead, slowly nodded and, her face still set in that proud position, repeated to the old woman who she was:

“I am, as I already said more than once to the other Peregrini, Lucrezia Iunia Bruta.”

The old Dyrgia made a circle with her cane, motioning her to continue.

“I am, as the armour shows, a Guardian of the Res Publica, and, after I am hale again, I will leave as fast as possible and go back to the Urbe. I will behave like Cicero spoke one should not for the protection of the state and our traditions, if necessary.”

A moment of silence rises from the clinic.

Grandma then tapped the armour again, almost distractedly, and asked, her tone almost amused: “This is good armour, but does the eagle stand for the queen of cities? Was it given to you by the Pontifex, as befitting one of your station?”

“It was, the Pontifex Maximus, alongside the council, gave it to me, after I had passed my tests and the blessings were anointed onto me, making me a servant of the citizens.” She said, a smile coming on her face, a normal one for once.

Only to then return into a haughty air of superiority, which made me want to dump water on her, if the air around Grandma hadn’t changed, and the spirits of my house weren’t clamoring for me to run.

With a calm and quiet tap, Grandma frowned, then asked: “May I ask where we are in? I want to be sure of something, young Alfar.”

There were a few heartbeats to the question, and the elf tilted her head, trying to pierce what Grandma was trying to reach for.

“We are in the mountains near the Urbe, no? Possibly near the Samnium, if I am to believe.”

Samnium…it was somewhere in middle-south Italy, no? That’s…quite a strange name for a region, and the only map I had seen, the first year, when I…still hoped…showed that we were somewhere that was very much not Europe.

I did not name it this in my mind, but that was a big leap.

“Why are you making these questions? Is this hamlet full of fools? Is the water poisoned, and the daimons leading you into foolish thoughts?” the elf grunted, but Grandma did only a small chuckle, before asking one last thing: “If you may say to me, young Alfar, what year it is now.”

The elf rolled her eyes, and the prideful words came out, full of scorn: “Should you not be aware? The action of the wannabe Tyrant and blasphemer on the calendar should be known to all, even in the furthest provinces.”

“Do indulge me, young lady.” With complete calm, like a statue made of stone, Grandma asked, leaning forward, her smile gone.

With a heavy exhale, the prideful elf answered, drawling all the while: “It’s the year 709, under the consulship of a Tyrant and a Serf, old woman. Why are you asking this, you should know this already even here.”

I stopped fearing for the health of the patient, which would be more work for me and would lead to someone insufferable being here, and started fearing that there was a problem with the brain.

“Damn, how bad is her head, Vic? It is 1023 if Grandma’s prayers to the trees are right.” Ingrid whispered from behind me, her head poking out from behind my back, now more curious than fearful of her Grandma.

I was more…stunned, in lack of a better word. It was a familiar scene, even if hopefully when it happened to me I was less proud.

Fear which returned immediately when Grandma’s blue, gelid, eyes turned back towards us, and immediately the great dyrgia huntress went back into hiding.

Courage, honour, loyalty to friendship, truly qualities this one had.

Then, she turned back towards the elf, and she spoke calmly: “Young woman, we are not where you think you are, or when you think you are. Your armour has metallurgy that I have never seen, and you names places I have never heard, and come from a time that is far behind ours, of things that never happened, of similar yet different cultures.”

The elf looked at her, then a smile blossomed on her face.

And she started laughing, uproariously, loudly, amused from what seemed to be a bad joke.

It’s what seemed to me, at the time.

Small people do exist, even if not with their proportions, and it’s far more reasonable that I had somewhat been drugged and moved somewhere else for a prank.

Nevermind the cold, nevermind the hunger.

Then Grandma slammed down her cane, and from its hilt a bright light lit up.

It was meant to be calming, soothing.

I knew that, she had said so, and all in the village felt that.

Oi!

Less energy!

Calm her down, calm her down!

Only five heartbeats, no more Listener!

But the spirits went in fritz each time she did so.

“I apologise, sonny, but this one needed proof.” Grandma explained, slightly contrite.

And the elf was staring, mouth wide, no words coming out.

I wonder what she was thinking, in that moment, and if it was similar to how I felt, three years ago.