The Garden of Lost Souls

Chapter 5

Weeks passed and Ellen stayed in bed to recover. Besides asking Aaron for food or water, they rarely spoke, and when they did, their conversations were short, often using only one or two word answers. The rain was relentless, pouring down in great sheets of water.

Aaron wasn't able to go to the market as he usually did, and their food supplies was dwindling rapidly. They'd been down to the last loaf of bread when the storms finally let up Although the skies remained heavy and grey, the rain had reduced to a faint drizzle.

The roads were still feet deep with mud, but Aaron announced that he would finally be able to go to the market. Ellen envisioned the time he would be gone, and how she might search the cabinet in that time.

However, he'd been short with her all week, avoiding her gaze and barely speaking to her. Somewhere inside of her, guilt welled up. It was this guilt, along with the hope that things might go back to normal, that Ellen sat up.

Aaron was still shuffling around, looking for a pair of suitable shoes for the dreary conditions. Ellen's back ached, and her stomach roiled unpleasantly, but she stood unsteadily, quickly shucking off the night dress and replaced it with her plain brown, homespun gown.

She hated wearing dresses, but was expected to when out in public, as was the Illian fashion for women. The tight lace-up in the back seemed completely unnecessary, and made her feel nauseous. The layers of underskirts also made it difficult to run or even walk anywhere to quickly, and the wearer was forced to hold them off the ground if trekking anywhere there was mud or exceptionally tall grass (which was most places in Ruda)

Aaron looked at her, surprised that she was out of bed, and even more so that she was wearing a dress, until she asked him, "May I come with you?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Are you sure you're well enough?" He asked, worry lining his eyes.Ellen huffed a laugh, although it sounded slightly forced. "I've told you, Aaron. You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine," she said, even as she swayed a bit on her feet. She gripped the bed to steady herself, making the movement as discreet as possible.

Aaron narrowed his eyes, but nodded again at the determined look she gave him. She was going, whether he wanted her to or not. Ellen tugged on her own pair of sturdy boots. Although it was somewhat frowned upon, Illian women were permitted to wear boots in public, as long as they did not go to or past the knee.

Although Ellen found these rules to be annoying and slightly hindering, she obeyed just as anyone else did. As she did the laces of her boots, Aaron approached her with two gleaming knives. Ellen looked at him, curious and slightly alarmed.

"The market is a dangerous place, especially for girls your age. One for each boot," was all he said.

She took them carefully, slipping them in her boots where they wouldn't poke holes in the soft leather or cut her feet while walking. Once the boots were on, she shrugged on a worn traveling cloak. Aaron had had trouble finding her a cloak from the market, and had to get one that was both tarnished and far too large. With the help of Xar, Ellen had been able to resize it to fit her better.

Ellen cringed as she remembered what Xar had told her yesterday, and the way she and Aaron had fought. She pushed the thought out of her head, walking toward where Aaron held the door open. She forced a smile onto her face, but couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.

Her waist-length red hair was pushed off her face by the strong breeze that came every year with the rainy season. A hand gripped her shoulder, and she looked up to see Aaron standing behind her. She stood still as he bundled her hair in his hands and tucked it beneath her cloak, drawing her hood over her face.