Dawn of a Thousand Suns, Book I: Arch De Angels

Chapter VI

A tiny bald man had climbed up a broken ladder, leaned against the house wall, nailing a piece of wood onto the rooftop. His wife was standing close to the ladder with her hands full of nails, handing them up to her husband. When not needed, she would run into the house, giving off a mouthwatering smell of newly baked bread. The husband kept grumbling about her forgetting to come back to help him.

Michael was starving and the mouthwatering aroma of fresh bread made him even hungrier. Lucius did not feel better, either. They had not eaten for four days. Thank god they had nicked a bottle of milk for Laili, which kept the little one content.

'Quick or he will finish soon', whispered Michael to Lucius, who approached the ladder carrying the baby and holding out his hand for alms. The man looked down and accidentally hit his finger with the hammer. Shocked with pain, he started swearing and blowing on his hurt finger.

"Please give us something to eat," asked Lucius in a pitiful voice.

"You back again?" Screamed the woman. "go away, get lost!"

"My little sister is starving, please."

The outraged woman shouted at the boy while the man was still busy blowing on his finger. Michael took advantage of the moment and ran into the house. The frying pan on the oven caught his eye and the mouthwatering smell of the baking bread made him almost dizzy. He swiftly grabbed the bread with his bare hands, but could not scrape it off from the frying pan; Although his fingers were burning, he did not let out a cry. Now it was his turn to blow air on his fingers, but this did not help him much. Michael saw a spoon nearby, grabbed it, and tried to scrape some bread off the pan, but no success again. He could not think of anything else but to snatch the cloth and tie it around the handle of the pan. He rushed out of the kitchen as quickly as he could.

The nasty curses from the woman soon followed Michael, who escaped with the pan. Lucius ran in the opposite direction, which somewhat confused the homemaker, as she could not decide which one to follow. Michael ran as quickly as he could and paid no attention to the dusty streets, burned down buildings, clothes hanging on lines to dry in narrow streets; he raced ahead, carrying his steaming loot. Smell of wet clothes and old house filled the air...

He was already somewhere between the baskets marketplace and a tiny bell tower, which had miraculously survived the attack. He sat down near the narrow side street to regain his breath. But now a different, treacherous feeling sneaked into him. The well-baked crust looked delicious... "No, Lucius, the baby..." He stood up quickly and headed towards that bridge under which he and Lucius were about to meet.

It took him around ten minutes to get to the bridge. Lucius and Laili were already waiting under the arch built with yellow brick. 'Did you run long?', asked Lucius, when Michael sat on the brick under the bridge and put the pan next to him.

"No, I soon felt nobody was following me, so I walked here", he answered. Laili was waddling on the pavement and drinking milk from the half-empty bottle, which she was holding with both of her chubby hands. The boys ate warm bread which soon disappeared, but, although it could not satisfy them, Michael felt still full and knew this feeling would last quite long.

The attacks burned down half of Mondelay. The part of the city that was built along the right bank of the river had survived, while the other side of the town was dead. One could still notice random houses in the fishers's settlement still looking intact, but obvious traces of fire were still visible. The city was swarming with starving beggars and completely devoid of food. Ships had brought some food to the country, but that was obviously not enough and everything was extremely expensive. The knights were ruling the city at that moment and made the laws stricter and stricter day by day. Anyone who dared steal would have their finger cut off. And if they were caught again, they would have to say goodbye to their hand. But the fear of the punishment did not make things easier. People did not hesitate to steal, even standing in front of the red - uniform soldiers, and Michael was not a bit surprised by that. They preferred to risk and survive, rather than to die of hunger, so they risked their fingers, some of them successfully, some of them not so much.