oh noes

Dream 2

Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
That should be the last of them. Six copper coins in total…
I sigh. Even though life here is far better than it was in the forest, it still leaves much to be desired. Ellie and I have tried our hardest, but there’s no denying that it’s barely enough to get by.
Two coppers for two loaves of bread, three coppers for some warmer clothes…which leaves one copper left for our savings. I grab the tin can at my side and drop the copper in. I should head over to the tailor first, and then go to the baker’s…
“Birdie!” Ellie ducks under the flap of our house-tent-hybrid. It’s barely a shelter - the cloth and rotting wood are pockmarked with holes. If we’re lucky, we can convince some passing trader to give us one of their better pieces of wood for a copper or two.
“Hey, Ellie. Need something?” I rub my eyes - I haven’t slept for over twenty hours. Sleep is hard to get when you spend most of your waking hours either working odd jobs or stealing.
“Birch came by again! He brought us some bread! We can save another two coppers this week!” Ellie beams at me, proud and happy. She’s always looking at the bright side of life, regardless of the situation. I wish I could be like that - optimistic and filled with charisma.
“Did you thank him?” A small piece of me doesn’t want to accept anything Birch gives us, but I always ignore that feeling. Most people call it pride and praise it, but I just call it stupidity. Refusing that bread would be like refusing to take medicine for a life-threatening disease just because you didn’t make it yourself.
“Yeah! He smiled at me, too. He says he’ll come back with more next week. By the way, when was the last time you slept?”
“I woke up three hours ago,” I lie. Ellie would yell at me if she knew, but this is for our own good. I stretch, listening to my spine pop.
Ellie pouts. “Liar,” she huffed. We both know I’ve been trying to make things sound better than they are. But then again, that’s always better than the cruel reality that awaits, right?
“Birdiiiiiie. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself. I can help too, you know! I’ve been hard at work scrubbing those people’s laundry!” She puffs out her chest and puts her hands on her hips.
I chuckle. Ellie always knows how to lighten things up. “Anyway, you should get going!” Ellie declares. She tugs at my hand, leading me to the flap separating us from the streets of the slums.
“To where?”
“Birch is waiting for you, you know? We can’t dally for too long!”
I make a face. “What does he want to see me for? It’s not like I’m in trouble or anything.”
“Maybe he just wanted to see you?”
I snort. “As if.” Birch isn’t a sentimental type - he’s emotionless in nearly every sense of the word. I could slit my throat in front of him and he’d just watch blood spurt from my veins without a single look of shock.
“Well, you never know. Maybe he is curious about how you’re doing.”
The fresh air fills my lungs as I step outside. Actually, it’s more special than fresh air…in fact, I’d say it’s more like burnt-hair-mixed-in-with-urine-wet-socks-and-trash-scented fresh air. I wince as I inhale the pungent smell.
Ellie leads me to the alley by our right. “Ellie? Why would Birch be here, of all places?” I ask. All of the people living in this section of the slums dump their trash somewhere inside this alley. Kids go here on dares, nobility or not. It’s one of the last remnants of the buildings that used to be here. I sigh, thinking about how left of the alley was the only place left to settle.
We were lucky to even get this spot - if we’d been late by mere moments, another family would’ve taken this spot for their own. I can still remember the little boy tearing up as his mother moved to comfort him and lead the others away. People who don’t find a place to live in the slums usually sell themselves off as slaves, but it all depends on their age and appearance.
The slave traders pass by sometimes - their piercing gazes scout each and every resident of the slums. Sometimes people flung themselves at the traders, begging to be sold, but we all knew those people were the worst of us all. Many of them were brutally injured, if not killed.
I shiver, thinking about the horrors of being sold. The idea that maybe that family had done so is enough for me to feel nauseous.
“Birch thinks it’s a wonderful place!” Ellie chirped, bringing me back to reality. “He says that everything can useful there.”
“Really? It’s a place where many go to dump their fluids and waste.”
“But sometimes there’s useful things in there!”
I try to imagine Birch digging through yellow and brown snow just for him to pull a shiny, waste-covered object out of the mess. Somehow, I manage to do it, but I also gag.
“Ellie, I’m pretty sure having people able to smell you from several streets away isn’t exactly the best of things for a hired killer,” I say. She just smiles.
We reach the opening of the alley and the first thing I see is…Birch digging up waste with a shovel. “I swear to Devon, Birch, if you called me here to help you dig up shit, I’m going to kill you!” The smell here is overbearing - breathing through my mouth literally has no effect on the intensity.
“Oh, really? You’d gladly take on a seasoned killer rather than help me collect waste?” He stops shoveling for a second and looks at me, lifting an eyebrow as if to say, ‘You think you can take me in a fight?’
“Yeah, I would. What’s it to you?”
“It wouldn’t do you any harm. You already smell awful, after all.”
Ellie snickers. I swat her head, relishing the annoyed sound she makes. “Yeah, well, that smell is going to warn off your targets long before you even get close.”
“It won’t if I spray some perfume on it.”
“I highly doubt perfume would even make a difference.”
“Fair point, but there’s always magic.”
I sigh. There’s no arguing with Birch when he’s like this.
“I’ll see you later, Birdie!” Ellie beams, and then trots away.
He offers me a shovel. “I’m not touching that shovel bare-handed,” I say.
Then, he hands me a pair of gloves and boots. “How about now?” Birch asks.
I grumble and tug them on. “If any of this stupid trash gets on my clothes, I’ll whack you with this,” I muttered, taking the shovel.
“Fair enough. So now, I wanted to ask you…”
“What.” I push the shovel’s edge into a mound of snow covered in poop. I think about how many people must’ve been here and I gag again.
“Have you heard of Obcido’s dilemma?”
“Have I heard of obvious what?”
“Have you heard that you’re obviously deaf? Because if not, then you are.”
I prop the shovel up and lean against it, giving him the nastiest glare I can muster.
“I couldn’t resist,” Birch says in a jokingly apologetic manner. I get back to shoveling.
“Back to the topic. Obcido’s dilemma, little bird. Have you heard of it?”
“Hmmm. Is it that disease that’s been popping up lately? Everyone says it originates in the slums. Well, the vermin. But then again, the nobles don’t see any difference between the people and the rats.”
“Yes. Well, you see-”
“You caught it.”
Birch coughs, embarrassed. “Y-yes. I did. So I would like to ask you-”
“To relay any gossip I might’ve heard about how to cure it?”
He nods. I sigh. “Honestly. You should’ve stayed out of this place. There’s no point in coming here if you aren’t living here.” I dump some more dirty snow into the large bucket by Birch’s side.
“So have you heard of any cures?”
“No. Why are you asking me, anyway? I’m not exactly the most knowledgeable about these diseases.”
“If it came from the slums, then surely the residents must’ve had more time to come up with ideas, right? After all, you lot have been exposed longer than the rest of Vestia.”
“So, first of all, how did you realize you had it? The symptoms are virtually non-existent. Not to mention, you won’t know when the sickness will strike until it’s far too late.”
“Just…a gut feeling. Quite literally. My body is telling me something feels off. Almost like…I’m broken inside, I suppose.”
When I give him a skeptical look, he says, “Little bird, I can’t explain it to you. As much as I’d like to, there’s just things that I can’t put into words.”
I huff. “Well, the ‘broken inside’ part makes sense. Every casualty was found vomiting up blood before they dropped dead. Their organs ruptured without any warning. As for cures, we haven’t found one yet - and if you’re coming to ask me, then the doctors outside must not have found one, either. I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try my hardest to find something that’ll help you. Are you sure it’s not something else?”
“I went to see a doctor and they said I looked perfectly fine.”
The idea that Birch might just drop dead tomorrow is an unsettling thought. He could die, right now - his body could collapse into these piles of disgusting mush, leaving large splatters of blood behind.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Birch asks when I don’t say anything.
“I’m not exactly afraid of death-”
“I meant your sister. Are you really okay with letting her stay here?”
I suck in a breath, ignoring the scent that comes with it. I hadn’t considered that. Damn, I’m a horrible brother.
“I’ll talk it over with Ellie, I guess. We’ll see what else we can do about our current case. Anyway, is that enough?”
“What?”
I nod at the bucket. Birch turns to look. “Oh, uh…yeah. That’s good. You’re pretty good at working unnoticed.”
“I guess I should take that as a compliment?” I prop the shovel up against the wall, and then pull the boots and gloves off, making sure to not touch any of the grime.
“You can keep those,” Birch says, on the verge of laughter. I glare at him and make a mental note to head to the river by the Pristine Forest. It would help with the cold, but…
I sigh again. “Well, here’s to hoping you don’t drop dead anytime soon,” I remarked.
“Thank you for your consideration, I suppose? I’ll see you around.”
With that reply, I head back to the shelter.