Chronicles of Carnezia (Book 2): Wilderness

Chapter 17: Tea and Biscuits

Chapter 17: Tea and Biscuits

            Not remembering much, it took awhile for me to recognise this as one of the many inns of the town. This one, though, seemed very friendly and there was even a big open fire pit in the middle of the room (after walking through a small porch). Without thinking about it, I went over to one of the big empty tables and took a seat facing the fire; I had suddenly felt cold from my grief stricken tears earlier.

            The guy came back and sat opposite me; the shadows formed by the flickering light danced about his face. They gave him quite a rugged, sort of harsh expression though he was clearly not showing one. I sat there, blank faced myself; twiddling my fingers on the table top; I still didn’t know how to deal with the news of losing the old couple. They were so close to me and I called them my grandparents when I first came into Carnezia to avoid too much suspicion by its residents. One thing had also struck me about the fire that was set on the shop... what happened to the mirror? No doubt it probably got caught in the flames or smashed by a falling beam. It meant I could never go home.

            As that seemed to sink in very firmly, I took a huge gasp of air and silently sighed to myself. Just then, a cheery looking woman came bustling over with a tray loaded with two mugs, a pot of tea and a large plate of biscuits. For the mood I was in she was too cheery and smiley and it really bugged me; I even followed her with my eyes until she disappeared back into the kitchen. I would have poured my own tea but my new acquaintance bothered himself with it instead. He didn’t put any sugar in, so I grabbed the spoon and mixed in three spoonfuls of the white grains; there was a great need for such a sugar dose.

            As I sat and sipped at my tea (dunking a biscuit in now and again), clinging to it in between my hands, he watched me with a steady gaze. Other than that, there wasn’t much going on around us. The owner was cleaning away some plates off a couple of other tables and the occupants of others sat round similar tables to ours and swapped gossip and news. Not wondering what they could be talking of, I didn’t attempt on listening in. It would have been nice to be talking myself but with a total stranger for company, there was little I could think of to say.

            Fortunately, I wasn’t the one who broke the silence. ‘Is your dragon really the same one that was here when Larkan’s dad got killed?’ he asked; by the tone of his voice I could tell he just wanted to make general conversation again and maybe just take my mind off what he had told me.

            Nodding, I almost forgot to actually say anything. ‘Yes, he is. I guess he just wanted to see home in a different view,’ I finally said, my eyes watching my tea swirl around in my mug.

            He let out a cough but it wasn’t an awkward, silence-breaking cough. ‘He seems small for a dragon being three years old...’ he pondered.

            Looking up, I smirked strongly at him. ‘He’s a little bigger than he should be really; though I think that is down to him eating a lot more than he really needs to.’ As I was looking up now, I could see the shimmer of surprise brush over his eyes. It was a familiar detail to me these days, especially after going to Itra a few times. Even in the river town where they are very used to see dragons weekly or daily, the majority still have an awed expression when they pass or meet a Tamer. I couldn’t understand why but that would be because, being one, I don’t see myself above or better than any other human.

            ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking but what is a ‘frain’?’ he asked, sounding rather peculiar over it.

            Giggling, almost knocking over my tea, I sat up a little straighter. ‘Frain is not a thing. That’s the name of my dragon.’ As I said that, he mouthed an ‘oh’ and then looked a little embarrassed. ‘It’s alright. I didn’t even think dragons could talk until I met a much older one. They prefer not to speak in human; it takes them awhile to learn it too. Frain took hardly any time compared to most.’ I found I was saying too much than necessary yet I had to keep talking now that I was; I didn’t want to return back to my melancholy state before the tea was put down.