The Witch's Relay

Chapter 14: Unfortunate News

We sit and finish up our meal in an uncanny silence once Linda's food arrives. I shift in my seat trying to decide whether or not to say anything, but a warning glance from Master deters me. Looks like we've said enough, and giving away more casual information could prove to be a bad idea.

"Treat everyone with suspicion, that way the real suspicious people don't catch you off guard." Master had told me prior to entering the city during my daily magic training, and I suppose Linda is included in "everyone". Although catching up more would be nice. We do come from the same village afterall.

"What's become of your family by the way Kade?" A sudden question from Linda breaks the silence.

"I.. Don't actually know. I was hoping to ask you that when I got the chance." I look down at the empty plate.

"Hmm.. I didn't take you for the kind of person who just up and leaves without at least having an idea what was going on. Although you did tell me you were gravely injured."

"Yea.." A slight feeling of pain shoots through me as I think about it. "I just never really got an opportunity to return, getting swept up into the big world."

"But, as so happens I do happen to know a little something. Not much however, the circumstances were a little strange. And.. then there's the bad news.." Her tone gradually falls until the last part nearly couldn't be heard.

"What kind of news?" I sit up straight.

"Your.. father.. you're.. an orphan now.."

...

I drive the rough wooden shovel deep into the vat containing the feed, and with a grunt and a heave, I am one step closer to filling the wheelbarrow.

Once repeating the process for a total of 14 times, I pick up the wheelbarrow and start heading for the barn.

"Kade!"

I drop the wheelbarrow to wipe away the beads of sweat off my forehead and turn towards the voice. Although it is still morning, the sun has begun its relentless oppression. I've forgotten how long it's been since it rained last. A couple years? I think dew happened a couple times last year though.

"Hey Grace! Is it that time already?" I shield my eyes and try to make out the figure standing between me and the homestead.

"Yea! And let Dad know about it too, ok?" She yells, cupping her hand in front of her mouth to concentrate the sound.

"Alright! I just gotta get this feed to the hogs first!"

She has already disappeared back into the house.

I once again pick up the wheelbarrow and trudge on. My sister won't be happy if the breakfast gets cold.

Ever since our mother passed away she has taken care of the cooking and cleaning when father and I work the farm, despite her being just 14- two years younger than myself, although I try to help out when I can, that way she has time to practice her reading and writing.

I run the wheelbarrow up the wooden ramp and dump the food to the pigs, who greedily make a mess of the already messy pen. I have already watered them, so I head over to the pasture where Dad is busy fixing a post which the ants got to.

"Time to eat." I tell him.

"Great! Let Grace know I'll be there in a moment. Could you just bring this old post back to house real quick on your way back though? I'm going to finish putting in a couple more wedges."

"Alright."

...

I open the door to reveal a small room with a metal stove in the corner, and a couple benches on either side of a rough table. Branching off from the main room is two bedrooms, each covered by a rough fabric hanging from a rod in the doorpost. The one bedroom belongs to my parents- rather my father nowadays, and the other belongs to my little sister. I sleep in the main room on a couple mats which I first roll out.

A smell of fresh eggs and sourdough bread fills the room.

"Dad said he'll be here in a sec." Her golden locks bounce elegantly as Grace prepares to dish out the food. Were she to dress up properly I have no doubt in my mind that she could pass as a noble.

"Ok."

It's not like we are on bad terms or anything, on the contrary, we just don't have much to say. Although since we are conserving water, and talking makes you thirsty, that might also be a reason. Dad is the only one who keeps up the talk lately, especially during meals. I suppose he feels responsible for keeping our spirits up in this home to spite the hardships, and constantly saying things like "next week it will rain. I can just feel it." as well as trying to ask how our days have been in the evenings, despite him knowing exactly how every day is just the same.

While me and Grace see the situation as how it is, and scarily have accepted it, father is always positive. But I know. I have done the math, I know we will have to sell the farm sooner rather than later. Our debts have become too large, and I can tell that Grace knows it too, despite it being a non-conversational subject.

There are too many memories here to leave. But we all know we have to eventually.

Once Dad comes back, we all sit down around the table and Grace dishes out. A fried egg, and two slices of bread each, however Dad only gets one. Whenever one of us tries to convince him to take more, he says no, saying that me and my sister are still growing. We need more nutrition apparently. But we can tell by the way he continuously loses weight that he does too.

Somehow today though, Dad does not say a single word during the entire meal.

When the meal is finished however, when Grace and I prepare to stand up, Dad opens his mouth.

"Wait. I have something I need to tell you two."

We both glance at each other, suspecting and dreading what comes next.

"So yesterday I spoke to the kind noble." His voice breaks for a moment.

That noble is anything but kind. But Dad insists on not bad mouthing anyone. That's his policy.

"And.." He continues after taking a deep breath. "It looks like we are going to have to move into town."

"What?!" Grace suddenly bursts out, a tear forming in her eye.

Dad ignores the outburst with a pained expression. "The noble was kind enough to organize a room for us for free for the next month if we move right away. But after that we pay rent."

"But this is where we've always lived!" I look away as the tear rolls down my sister's cheek. "This is where mom lived.."

"I know."

And for the first time since our mom's death, my dad's cheerful mask falls. Tears start rolling down uncontrollably. Both me and my sister go in to hug him, us all weeping together.

...

He is gone.

Dad is gone.

Dead.

Gone.

In the busy tavern, I, like that time with my family, begin to weep. Only this time, there is an unexpected new set of arms to comfort me.

And a new shoulder to lean on.