A Household formed by a Mother and her Children

A day just like any other thus far: I wake up when Mother leaves for the mine. I give our living space a once-over, cleaning anything that might've become dirty again. I wake Eleanor and stroll through the slum with her, looking for a lucky opportunity, of any kind really, to present itself.

Though it most likely won't, it at least calms my nerves to have tried.

My 'fellow' elves have thankfully stopped glaring at me, now at the very least tolerating my existence. I am not sure what exactly Loren told them when he delivered what we gave him, but he must've at least mentioned I was involved.

Coming home towards the late afternoon, I try to teach how a few more words are written to my eager little pupil while waiting for my larger, more tired pupil.

Though this day Mother came home earlier than usual.

"Are you home, kids?"

That male voice is unmistakeably that of Loren. What's he doing here? And why does he sound so desperate?

"We are here!"

Eleanor responds before I even have to.

Entering, I see Loren carrying an unresponsive Rinah into the tent. He places her gently on our bedroll. Eleanor gasps, freezing in place.

I immediately check for pulse and breathing. Both are there, so she isn't dead. Thank God. Loren wouldn't be so stupid as to bring a corpse here anyway. While I know that, the relief I felt checking for myself still can't be understated.

Loren looks at me in surprise, most likely expecting a reaction more akin to that of my sister.

"She collapsed in the mines."

"Of course she did; it was only a question of when at this point."

She has no fever, and besides the obvious marks of working in the mine for more than a century at this point, I spot nothing else of worry. Even without deeper medical knowledge, the issue is clear...

Loren seems to be at a loss for words, trying very hard to find appropriate words for this situation.

"I don't think she should be working anymore, or else she might not..."

Survive. Yeah, that is plain for all to see. But what's the best way to move forward here?

"How long do you think your savings will last?"

At best, half a year. And that's only if we ration carefully. But starving Eleanor and me to the bone will only hurt us in the long term.

"While I can't do much, if you need any help..."

Yeah, Loren's a great guy, no doubt. But I really can't impose on him to that extent. He himself is barely making do, and I get the feeling he's also spreading himself thin helping everyone else depending on him already.

"We could ask the fellow if he can help get us into the mines." 

That seems like the only sensible option at this point. Eleanor's around 14 and I'm 12; we should be able to at least be able to make some money down there by now.

While just thinking about sending Eleanor down there makes my stomach sink, I don't think there's another option right now. At least as a stopgap, until I can figure something out...

"Can you help me find work in the mines?"

Both of them look at me in surprise.

"Well, who's allowed to go down there is something only the guards get to decide. But I'll see what I can do."

With that he left. Looking at Mother's face, I feel disgustingly useless again...

"Are you really going to go down there?"

What other choice do I have, Eleanor? Mother sacrificed herself for me, for us! She's been doing this every day. The least I can do to repay that kindness is take over when she would die otherwise.

"I have to. I am healthy enough; I can take it. I refuse to let her die."

Eleanor hugs me tightly.

"I'll go with you. You two have shown me nothing but kindness so far. Let me repay it."

I pat her head. We will get through this together. I will make sure of that.

Later that evening when Mother woke, she assured us that she was fine. That she'd only forgotten to drink enough. That she'd be well enough tomorrow to go again.

Nothing but sweet little white lies, trying her hardest to ease our worries.

The entire night, her already awful cough got even worse. When she got up the next morning to return to her work, she fell over immediately as well.

The signs her body is sending her are very clear. She simply can't go any further. She's been pushing it to its limits, and those limits have been reached.

We had to stop her from leaving the tent. Trying to talk her down proved quite a challenge.

"I have to go to work; we need the money, don't we?"

"Get some rest, Mother. You'll have to get better first. We still have some savings!"

Hearing both Eleanor and me begging her to take it easy worked thankfully, at least for the first few days.

But when it became clear she wasn’t getting any better, things took a turn for the worse.

I noticed she was eating less. That's to be expected, I think. A body weakened by sickness struggles to digest food, so one's appetite waning isn't too unusual.

As the week passed, however, her already small portions shrank even further, until she just said:

"I don't feel all that hungry; please just eat your fill…"

She smiled at us while saying that. But that smile puts a knot in my stomach.

Is there something wrong with her I missed? She does need nutrients; there's no doubt in my mind about that.

Asking Loren if there was a disease going around the slums, he just shook his head. He also said he had no luck asking around for another way into the mines. Drat.

What would be the symptoms of working yourself to the bone in a salt mine? Cracked skin from the dry environment, lung issues from inhaling too much dust and all the complications that come with too much gruelling physical labour.

None of that should force a lowered appetite, at least I think so. So what's wrong then?

"Look at her eyes."

Isha gives me the necessary final clue to figure out this mystery. The deep sadness, combined with an even deeper hopelessness, isn't unbeknownst to me. I've seen it before, after all.

When Eleanor was begging to be left to die, she had a similar look in her eyes. Similar, but not quite the same.

Something I can best describe only as a macabre determination underlines all the other dark feelings. Reading someone's emotions sure is hard if you don't share a literal being with them. Thanks again, Isha.

"Anytime."

The only way I can spin all this to make sense would be this:

She's going to willingly die to not be a burden on us.

Though Isha doesn't answer that thought, she agrees all the same. Damn it, Rinah. What are you thinking? If that is supposed to be the final expression of your motherly love, I sure as hell don't want it.

"Why aren't you eating, Mother?"

"I just don't feel all too hungry; please eat though. You need to grow big and strong after all."

Lying straight to my face with that sickening smile truly hurts. Like putting a stake through my heart...

"Why do you keep lying to me?"

She doesn't even try to deny it. Her sad eyes just keep boring into me. She's not even surprised at my question. She knew from the very start conversation was coming.

"Do you think starving yourself to death is the right move here?"

She's well aware at this point that I am an awfully smart kid, way smarter than I should be at my age. Me finding out was just a matter of time.

"Do you think I can live on, knowing my mother willingly chose death in some misguided attempt to save me?"

My protest is just part of the process. Of course a child would object to seeing their mother dying in front of them. This is just a normal reaction on my part. Just part of the process of grieving.

"Do you even understand why I went beyond the walls? So we could leave one day together! What good would it be if I had to leave you behind here?"

"You're strong, Isayah. You've got your brave older sister. Loren will take you in; I asked him already. You'll be fine without me."

I clench my fists in anger so much it hurts. My throat swells; I am on the verge of tears. My restraint breaks, and my anger begins to overflow.

"I refuse."

My voice betrays me; I barely manage to get these few words out.

"I refuse to leave you behind. I don't want to see you die for my sake! For our sake! How am I supposed to keep living, knowing I basically killed my mother myself?"

My throat burns. But I have to keep going.

"You worked hard for more than 10 years to raise me in this hellish place. You never gave up then; why now? Please let me carry that burden now. I beg you..."

The last word lingers in the air, creating a deathly silence.

Though Eleanor picks up where I left off.

"Please, Mother, let us take care of everything now. You've taken me in when I had nowhere else to go; please let us take care of you now."

Still holding that nauseating smile, she just pats our heads. She has already convinced herself that, without a doubt, there is no other way.

If she wishes for her children to prosper, she needs to die now.

Very well, Rinah. If this is to be your heroic self-sacrifice, I just need to make it meaningless.

Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do, but if you are going to be that stubborn, you will have to learn the hard way.

"If you refuse to eat, so will I."

She stops patting my head and looks at me in utter shock.

Like I'd finally broken her hypnosis, her face finally shows a different expression, one of absolute horror.

"If you refuse to see reason, if you just want to throw away everything I am trying to do for you, Rinah, I will just do the same to you."

She is absolutely speechless; this was the one thing she could not anticipate after all. Her very own child holding her hostage.

"How do you feel right now, Rinah? Is it a pleasant feeling? Is this the kind of feeling you wish to impart on me, on Eleanor, on your family?"

The tears start welling up in her eyes. If this lesson is to stick, however, I can't use the kid gloves now.

"You'd leave me behind in this cruel world, with this evening as my last memory of you?"

She starts crying. Both Eleanor and I hurry into her arms, holding her so tight she'll never forget what she has worked for until now.

"I'm sorry, Isayah! I'm sorry, Eleanor! I'm so, so sorry!"

Being confronted with your emotions sure is exhausting. But I am glad we still got the curve here, before it's too late.

With that behind us, we enjoy a pleasant supper. All of us, together.

Though the matter of how to proceed from here is still an issue. Letting Mother rest right now is a given, but I should find something for her to do, however small it may be.

Getting the feeling you are nothing but a burden will eat at her mind soon enough again. I know what I'm talking about after all...

When she’s ready, I’ll suggest that she take over the cleaning. Or anything really that she can do without venturing outside. Sewing up our torn clothes would be another idea.

That just leaves the matter of how Eleanor and I can make money. I hope the guards let us in.

If not, I'll have to beg the redhead to pull some strings. Although just thinking about what she'd have me do for her wicked entertainment makes me shiver in my non-existent boots.

Anything for them, though.

As soon as Mother was well enough for me to be comfortable with leaving her on her own, I went to the market with Eleanor.

We spent some time just being watched by the guards, just to confirm they didn't recognise their little thief from all these years ago. That worry was thankfully unfounded; they didn't react to her presence at all. She has grown a fair bit after all.

Miss Redhead was surprisingly cooperative, ordering one of her guards to let the others know we are to be led in now.

Is she pitying me, or is that a bit of residual gratitude from Jesha, expressed through her? I don't know and won't question it either, for now.

Standing at the precipice of the abyss Mother had to enter every single day to raise me, I shudder. I can practically feel the salt eroding my lungs already.

Eleanor takes my hand and smiles at me.

As long as I have her and Rinah, there's nothing I can't do. And nothing I won't do to ensure their survival...