Act One: Materia Prima - Chapter 3

The man did not recognize her. He thought so. Stood there frozen. Took a good look. Probably thirteen or fourteen years old. Short brown hair. He tried to study her face. Narrowed his eyes. She was pretty. Recognized that much. But unable to discern her facial features. Her eyes. Her nose. Her mouth. Something was wrong. With his brain? Probably.

He approached her. She crawled backwards. Afraid? Of a stranger in a strange land. He stood still. Put on a smile. Time to perform. But before he could open his mouth.

“Where did you come from? You are not from here. Are you from the forest? Or from the mountains maybe? I did not see one like you before. Please don’t come closer. I don’t know you. Hlout always says to be careful with strangers. Or are you from the veiled parts? I lost my lighter close to it. But Hlout doesn’t allow me to go there.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. This girl was a bit much. He was about to say something. But.

“I like your shirt. It’s not like I don’t like the clothes Falsk makes, but yours are so different. It’s so nice to see new stuff, right? No one from the outside comes to the house…”

The words splashed like a turbulent stream. He was taken aback by this girl. By now she also smiled. But different. Genuine. She had taken a seat on her heels. Gesturing wildly with her hands. Arms stretched out wide.

She kept blabbering. Her clothes caught his eye. A simple linen shirt. Gray. Matching pants. Rolled up to the calves. No shoes. A little woolen bag lay behind her in the grass. Whitish. He turned his attention back to the waterfall of words.

“…fire is different. Like the flame itself. But this is a secret. Please don’t tell the others. Sorry for talking so much. I have no idea why I told you that of all things. Are you hungry?”

It took a few seconds before he realized she would not keep going. Looked her in the eyes. Her face just would not become an image in his mind. It was like it slipped right through his memories into oblivion. She blinked. Expecting an answer. He said that he was alright. Remembered she mentioned mountains. He asked her where to find them. She seemed confused.

“The mountains? You can’t go there, if you haven’t been there before. Are you sure you’re not hungry? You look like you don’t eat enough. You need to take care of yourself.”

There was true concern in those eyes. He could read the emotions. Why did the idea of her eyes elude his mind?

“Let me at least introduce you to the others. They'll be at least as surprised as I was.”

A smile graced her face once more. A relieve to him. Why though? Should not matter to him. He would go along for now. Find out where those mountains were located.

“But please remain as calm as you are now. Scild is easily frightened by anything she doesn’t recognize. By the way, what's your name? I’m Hrain.”

He told her his name. He did. Right? Hrain squinted and gave him a warm smile. She jumped up. Picked up her bag. She motioned for him to follow.

“Come on!”

She moved toward the house. Spring in her step. He walked beside her. Long strides. Two of her light treads matched one of his. She stretched out her arms. Looked at him. Left eye closed. Another smile. His one felt out of place. Unusual. He should not care. It is what it is. A performance. He was a performer. Looked away. Why though?

“Why do you want to go to the mountains anyway? There’s nothing but rocks and stones. Sure, some of them can talk. But they’d tell you the same stories over and over again.”

Talking stones. What silly fantasies had been slumbering beneath his professional surface? Whatever. He would either wake up or end it in here. In his head. His head? It had to be. He still owed Hrain an answer. Told her that he collected minerals. She laughed.

“Everyone passes the time in their own way, I guess! You didn’t tell me where you did come from. Probably from the south, right?”

He asked her how she determined where south was. She got excited.

“It’s where the river flows down to of course. Is there another way to tell? If so, you have to tell me!”

He could see the garden more clearly now. He had been right. Apple trees. The smaller plants? Cabbages. Red and green. Carrots. Potatoes. Celery. Onions. Parsley. Coriander. Thyme. Rosemary. Dill. Chives. Lots of lavender.

He noticed her excitement again. Little jumps between her steps. Tried to satisfy her curiosity. Told her of the sun. Of the other stars in the night sky. The moon. She was excited. Nodded along.

“That sounds so beautiful! But where does the sun come from? Shouldn’t the sky be night here, if the sun isn’t up there?”

She pointed up in the sky. He shrugged. Told her about the course of the heavenly bodies. About orbits. Rough terms. How humans had no control over these events. She did not respond. Looked withdrawn. First time since they met.

They reached the gate of the woven wooden things that enclosed the garden. Hrain reached low. Opened it. Entered. He stood there for a moment. She turned back. Waved at him.

“What are you waiting for? Come inside! Let’s go!”

He took a good look at the wooden mansion. Told her to give him a few seconds. Wanted to take in the building in its entirety. Why though? Maybe her cheerful curiosity had infected him. How silly.

It looked old. Weathered. Renovations and conversions everywhere. Two paths lined with boards led up to the house.

Ground floor. The larger entrance to the south. If there really were cardinal directions. If Hrain was right. It was part of a rectangular extension. Windows to each side. The smaller entrance to the west. Part of the main section. A small canopy above it. Supported by wooden beams. Simple but elegant.

First floor. Pitched roof above the southern entrance. To its right a bay window. To the western entrance’s left a small terrace. Wooden railing. Same style as the support beams.

Second floor. Second bay window on the south side. A Balcony on the west side.

Fourteen windows in total. On the two sides visible to him. Above it all. A copper roof. Patinated. Also pitched. Probably hid an attic beneath it. Brick chimney on the north side. Barely visible.

Hrain crouched up on the path to the larger entrance. Near the lavender. Sniffed the fragrant plants. Gently held some of them close to her. He had kept her waiting long enough. Raised his voice slightly and said her name. She faced him and smiled once again.

Both of them moved toward the wooden double door. Wrought iron handle. No lock. Fittings made of the same metal. Hrain opened the right door leaf. Left it wide open. Scampered inside.

“I’m home!”

The man was somewhat surprised at himself. Would not deceive himself. He was somewhat taken with her manner. It reminded him of something. Someone. Would be better to leave it at that. Three final strides to the door. He followed inside.