See the signs, don't be blind

I now understand why they entrusted this task to me. This is actual torture!

I was fully aware that carrying a bucket full of water was not an easy task. When on expeditions with the scouts, we did not always have the option of a faucet to have drinkable water from, so this is something that I had experienced before.

But even then, the experience always manages to feel freshly horrible each time.

A particularly torturous memory of mine that I had, until recently, blocked from my mind includes carrying a bucket of water from the river to the top of the hill where we were staying, only for the bucket to slip from my hands and spill everything as I had just reached the top.

That memory that had once been suppressed for the sake of my mental health had now been surpassed by how torturous it was to carry the bucket through the forest. Dodging trees, stepping in constantly uneven terrain, it was as if every step wanted to trip me to make me start again. I could see how a little bit of water spilt every time I lost control of it when moving. I felt as if I was now Sisyphus, and carrying this dumb ass bucket was my boulder up the mountain.

But even so, I managed to do so, somehow, after far more time that it had taken me to reach the pond in the first place.

When I reached the village, I walked to the village center where the women and the kids were, while still questioning all my life choices. Why was I even doing this in the first place? It is not like they can kill me, the sky is not ready for it yet. Why do I bother carrying this bucket of water.

Although the strip of light IS closer than before. I can’t forget that.

Maybe that is part of it, I guess. Making them think that I’m useful so they would be less willing to rip my heart from my chest, or whatever their ritual sacrifice entails. The notebook has given no details about that part yet.

When I finally reached the village center I found again both the women and kids that were here when I left. By the way they were looking at me, I could tell that they still were uncomfortable seeing me. I decided to ignore them, and as best as I could, I walked towards the water tanks in the center. When I saw the height I was going to need to raise the bucket to put the water in, I could feel my soul dying inside of me.

One last effort, I can at the very least do that.

With a burst of energy I raised the bucket up to my chest, and before I could lose balance and spill it, I put the bucket in the aperture and started pouring it in. The weight was diminishing, my will to live started to soar again.

When I finished, I simply collapsed into the ground. It was full of dirt, but I didn’t really care at that point. I stayed there, breathing heavily until I regained my bearings and rose again. When I turned around, I could see all the women in the village looking at me. Their eyes full of complicated emotions that I could not even begin to decipher.

I tried to walk away, but before I did, I was face to face with one of the women, who had approached me while I was not looking.

I looked at her and didn’t know what to do. She must be at the very least my mother’s age, some wrinkles decorating her face, her hair slowly starting to grey out. Her clothes looked old, proof of how little she had. But, in her hands, a cup of green liquid that she was offering to me wordlessly.

I doubted for a moment. Unable to sort out everything that went through my mind then. By reflex, carefully, I took the cup from her hands, making sure not to spill a single drop. She now looked away, to one of the kids that were playing in the village center. The kid noticed and looked back at her.

The cup was full of green tea. It was lukewarm, but it was what I really needed right now.

When I finished drinking, she took the cup back, and looked at me with a wistful expression. Finally, she said the first word that I could understand.

“Thanks”

She had the thickest, most indecipherable accent I had heard in my life, but the meaning she wanted to convey was so clear that nothing got lost when she spoke. Without further ado, she walked back to the group, similar expressions now in their faces.

Thanks… for what?

Soon enough, the woman’s kid had come here and took my hand, saying words that I could not comprehend. The only thing that came through was the happiness in his voice.

“I… sorry, I need to bring more water.” I said, raising the empty bucket with my other hand.

The kid seemed confused when I spoke, but seemed to understand the meaning of the bucket, and so he left me alone, returning to the group from whence he came.

Unsure of what to do, I started treading my way back where I come from. My thoughts were now all jumbled up.

“They have some nefarious goals in mind. Everyone in that village has.”

That’s what the man in the dark cloak said. And as much as the notebook pointed to it being true, it was as if everything else was telling me otherwise. Why are the people here kind to me? Why does Howard go out of his way to help me so much?

Without me knowing, the door towards the answer was now opening.

On the way back, I saw another woman, one I had not seen before. By all means, she should have been a complete stranger to me, but a glance was all I needed for the dejavu to wash over me.

I have seen her eyes before. Those yellow eyes, with a ferocious and determined glint, were as beautiful as they were unmistakable.

The woman had a long purple dress that went down to her ankles. Unlike the clothing of everyone else I had seen, it looked clean, well cared for, and with an actual aura of authority in it. Maybe it was due to the complex golden designs embroidered in all its length, going up from the hem of the skirt, up and around her neck like a collar, extending all the way down to her arms.

She looked younger than the women in the city center, and even I could admit that she was quite beautiful. Or at least, she would be if she didn’t have a deep stern look, the kind that you can only have when that’s the only expression you make for extended periods of time.

A terrible sign, when I was standing here, basically ogling her, and her look was aimed at me.

I looked ahead, to the void, and marched on as if nothing had been happening.

“Stop.”

Unfortunately, I was not going to be lucky enough to avoid a conversation, as she spoke English with the fluidity of someone who had learnt and practiced it for a long time.

“Sorry, I have to bring more water.” I said, meekly.

She looked deeply unimpressed by my excuse. Then she kept looking at me, like she was waiting for something, but refused to say what.

Finally, it dawned on me.

“Sorry for not presenting myself before. My name is Pole Rast, a pleasure to meet you.”

Her gaze went back from disappointed, to stern.

“Euryce Vega. I wanted to present myself before, but the opportunity hadn’t presented itself. I welcome you to my village, Pole.” She said, nearing me, towering over me.

“Another piece of advice, spare a bit of that respect to the village chief when you meet her. Your life will be far easier if you do.” resonated again in my mind, like a response to the words from the woman.

Seems like I’ll have to heed his advice a lot sooner than I expected.