The Wieight of Guests

Zelda set up camp beneath a tree near the river while Sigrid tried to fish.

There were no fish.

Sigrid stared at the empty water for a moment.

Then she drew her sword.

She lowered the blade until it touched the surface.

Ice spread from the steel.

Within seconds, the entire river froze over, its surface becoming a sheet of white. Sigrid left a small section of open water beside her and sat down.

She waited.

And waited.

Eventually, a fish surfaced through the opening.

Sigrid stabbed it with her sword.

Another appeared.

Then another.

By the time she was finished, Zelda had already prepared the fire.

They roasted the fish, ate until they were full, and settled down for the night. Several uncooked fish remained, hanging from Sigrid's sword beside the camp.

When the sun began to rise, Zelda opened her eyes.

A young boy, no older than seven, was quietly taking the fish.

Zelda watched him.

She didn't move.

She let him take them.

The boy disappeared into the trees.

Only then did Sigrid stand and retrieve her sword.

Zelda sat up.

"You've been awake this whole time?"

Sigrid said nothing.

She simply sheathed her sword.

"I'm going down the river," she said. "I need somewhere private to bathe."

She walked away.

Zelda sighed and eventually found a spot of her own near the camp.

As she stepped into the water, she sensed something.

Mana.

Faint.

Approaching.

She immediately tensed.

It wasn't concealed. Whoever it was wasn't trying to hide.

Normal people.

Zelda rushed out of the water and grabbed her clothes.

"Who's there?"

A middle-aged woman stepped out from behind the trees.

Her clothing was ragged, and her skin was thin from hunger. Behind her stood the young boy.

"I just wanted to thank you for the fish you gave my boy," the woman said.

Her voice carried the warmth of someone genuinely grateful, but there was something deeply devout in the way she spoke.

"The person you should be thanking is Sigrid," Zelda said. "I only saw the little guy leaving."

The boy tightened his grip on his mother's clothing.

"Sigrid?" the woman asked.

The boy's eyes widened.

Suddenly, he broke away and ran.

He passed Zelda and headed straight toward the river.

"Sigrid!"

The woman turned in surprise.

"Mama, she was the one who gave me the fish!"

The boy threw his arms around Sigrid.

Sigrid stood completely still.

---

A little earlier, the boy had been walking with his mother through the countryside, searching for something—anything—to eat.

At some point, he had wandered away and lost sight of her.

Eventually, he found the two travelers' camp.

Sigrid was already awake.

She lay on her back beneath the tree, staring at the clear blue sky.

She rolled her eyes downward.

From her position, the boy appeared almost upside down.

His stomach growled.

Sigrid turned her head toward the fish hanging beside her.

She pointed at them.

Then she raised one finger to her lips.

Be quiet.

The boy carefully took the fish.

Sigrid closed her eyes again.

Not long afterward, Zelda woke.

She saw the boy taking the fish.

And chose to let him.

---

The mother approached Sigrid again.

"Thank you," she said. "Truly."

Sigrid gave a small nod.

"Are you visitors?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Zelda answered.

"Then you shouldn't be camping outside. Especially not little girls."

Zelda raised an eyebrow.

The woman smiled faintly.

"It is not our custom to let guests sleep outside in Donnerfels. Guests are the most important people after the Chief."

She gestured toward the road.

"Please. Come to my home."

Their house was little more than sticks and bricks. The walls looked as though they had stood for a hundred years and might collapse at any moment.

Inside, the woman prepared tea.

"I can't believe you girls would sleep outside and hunt so many fish," she said. "It isn't something girls do around here. Especially guests from other villages."

She placed the cups before them.

"Men do all the work around here. My house is in this state because my husband died when my son was only a year old."

She sat across from them.

Zelda lifted the cup and took a sip.

So did Sigrid.

They both had to take only small sips.

The tea was bitter.

"This tea is what keeps us afloat," the woman said. "Some nights, it is all we have."

Zelda lowered her cup.

"Where I come from, it's different. Whether you're a man or a woman, you still have to accomplish whatever duty is assigned to you."

The woman looked at her.

"I take it you're from the capital?"

Zelda nodded.

"Yes. I am."

"I've only heard stories," the woman said. "But some say that place is the devil's house."

She looked toward the window.

"The women there aren't Godly."

---

The villagers lowered their heads as High Priestess Gritsia Stoneheart entered Donnerfels.

She walked through the village with measured steps, her expression composed.

Her eyes moved across the cracked earth, the empty fields, and the faded houses.

"This place is not as vibrant as I remember."

A man stepped forward.

Oliver.

He bowed deeply.

"Your Grace."

Gritsia regarded him.

"Amidst all the problems you seem to have here, Oliver, I would assume your people are still paying their tithing. Correct?"

Oliver hesitated.

"They do, Your Grace. But if this crisis continues to deepen, I'm afraid there will soon be very little left for my people—or for us to offer."