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2 || havel

The gates of her colony opened to welcome her return and closed to seal her safely inside. A few neighbors were outside their underground homes and waved to her in greeting.

There used to be so many people in their colony, so many that they'd stacked two or three families in each house; back then, Areum hadn't had to venture beyond the walls alone. Entire teams used to go on assignments every day, tracking convoys and sabotaging outposts.

While her teams fell around her, Areum continued the missions for herself. It was only a matter of time before she fell, too, to predators or Collectors or Nøkken soldiers.

Areum let herself into the bunker that she was supposed to call home.

The mealy smell of whatever they'd had for dinner both turned her stomach and made her hungry at the same time. Kicking off her boots and shuffled further inside, she prayed she wouldn't run into the woman of the house.

"Are you back?" A man's voice called.

Areum responded in the affirmative and turned towards the sound. "I'll go back tomorrow to discuss his findings."

Her master sat at the kitchen table, cleaning and sharpening his best hunting blade. As she came into view, his eyes lifted to examine her. "Did you make it safely?"

Areum clasped her hands in front of her, swallowed a tart response, and nodded meekly. She wouldn't be allowed to excuse herself until he gave her leave to, so she made herself comfortable. "The woods were still today. I had no trouble."

Havel examined his own reflection in his blade. "That means you're getting quieter. That's good. And how did you find The Professor today?" One greasy hand reached out to clasp around a clay cup of beer.

The colony had learned how to perfect their home brewed alcohols within five years of the Scourge, a fact to which many of their untimely deaths could be attributed.

"He is well." Areum knew what was coming. "He was eager to complete this task for you." Her insides twisted all over again as Havel put the blade down and gave her his full attention.

He eyed her from head to toe, assessing. "Was he nice to you?"

She chose her words cautiously. They'd been through all of this before, ad nauseum. "No more than usual."

Havel seemed only somewhat appeased by her response. "Young men who are nice to young women are always being nicer than usual. You watch yourself when you go there, alright?"

Her head lowered, electing not to tell her master that he had absolutely nothing to worry about, for fear that she would betray her disappointment in that fact. "Yes, sir."

"You tell me if he starts to be nicer than normal." The old man said firmly. "It's easy for a girl at your age to be confused. I don't want him playing with your emotions."

Her emotions being confused had nothing to do with his concern, and she knew it. Areum nodded again, hoping her downcast gaze would keep him from feeling provoked. "I'll be more careful."

Her cautious disengagement yielded no mercy.

"You'll be more careful?" Havel's hands clenched into grimy fists. He studied her again, likely inventing new reasons for the tears in the old clothes that he'd given her. "He has no claim to you, girl."

Her face flamed. Arguments flashed to mind but died before she could form them aloud. Whatever her disillusions about being rescued by The Professor may have been, Havel was the one who owned her. He was the one who kept her from the Collectors, and enforced her continued safety.