Wisteria

Pratum

"I see." Martha breathed out. Naib had just finished telling her the rules of the manor, and both were perched on a worn down bench. They were surrounded with greenery,  heavy and glinting with morning dew. The air was cold in the garden, and their breath came out in small puffs of fog.

Her arrival last night was untimely, and she admitted that she was a bit surprised at how the whole game worked. And in an attempt to help, she stayed up all night helping Emily tend to Kurt and Servais.

She stood up and stretched, yawning like a cat. Her hair fell in waves across her shoulders, and instead of her beige uniform, she was dressed in a plain white shirt tucked in black pants.

"So, " she began slowly, mid-stretch. "When do you think we'll have our chance to participate? "

He watched her as she bent and touched her toes. "I don't know. Survivors are chosen at random." He said,  then added as an afterthought. "What on earth are you doing? "

Martha stopped bent over, like a deer caught in headlights. "Ah,  sorry. " She replied sheepishly as she straightened up, brushing invisible dirt from her slacks. "I'm just used to having my morning routine, you see."

Naib rolled his eyes. "Well, go do it somewhere else. Don't just start bending over in front of someone. It's.. It's strange! "

"The only strange thing here is how you phrased that sentence! " Martha retorted, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. "Besides, there's nothing weird about exercising. All this adrenaline had to go somewhere."

He didn't buy her excuse one bit, he noticed earlier while they were talking that she had looked uncomfortable once the stakes of her stay here had been fully known.

"You're afraid. " Naib said blandly, catching her off guard. He knew, because he does the same thing. When he's anxious, or scared, he won't be able to stay still. The need to do something itching under his skin. He just had to move.

Her lips pursed tightly, and after a few seconds she cleared her throat. "So what if I am?" She said indignantly. "I have every right to be. I didn't know this is the kind of situation that awaits me here. "

Naib hummed in thought. He could still remember how it felt being in the war. His heart pounding so loudly as if it would jump out of his chest, the wind knocked out of his lungs by nearby mines exploding.

He was reminded of something his commander had said before his first battle, when they were still green boys eager to get their glory.

"Freeze even for one second and you're dead." And so he said just that to Martha.

"Fear, when it takes root in your heart is almost impossible to remove. It takes hold of you, destroying you." He quoted darkly.

But Martha just laughed at his face, much to his surprise. "Don't be silly Naib. It's fear that keeps us safe. It's what keeps us human."

"Besides," she continued, a smile playing on her lips. "what do we know? We've never been to a match, even you Mister-All-Knowing."

He felt his cheeks heat up, embarassed by her banter. "I've been to war." He retorted in a low voice, but it sounded like something a petulant child would say.

She pointedly ignored him and plucked a white carnation from one of Emma's bushes, mindlessly handing it to him. When he didn't move to take it, she huffed and tossed it at his side.

The once dismal garden is now starting to take shape due to Emma's efforts. Sunlight was streaming through pruned bushes and neatly trimmed vines. Fresh holes are dug in the soil and inside lay carefully placed seedlings; even the flower bushes seemed to have regained their vibrant colors.

"Why are you here? What's the prize that you wanted so bad?"

A part of his mind wondered why she is still bothering to talk to him. He isn't the type to make himself look approachable, in fact he liked to act the opposite and keep to himself. But when Emily offered to give her the rundown of things this morning, she refused and hovered over him like a moth to a lamp.

Martha seemed friendly enough, but he could never tell her his real reason, it just felt too personal. Too close to home. So instead, he uttered "Money." half-hoping she'd leave her alone after that.

She scoffed at that,  "Ooh, so sentimental."

He glared at her, arms crossing over his chest, crinkling the dark shirt underneath. "Yeah?  Why are you here then? "

Martha's eyes softened, and she replied slowly. "I wanted to be a pilot, but no one would believe in me out there." She had a misty look in her eyes, and her gaze flitted to meet his for a moment. "Well, one person did. Believe in me I mean, but.. He's gone now."

She sighed and sat back down next to him, cradling the rejected carnation in her hands.

Her eyes stayed firmly down, and she sat there still as a statue.  The change in her demeanor was so sudden, as if someone had flicked a switch inside.

He fidgeted in his seat not knowing what to say. Naib felt as if he owed it to Martha to make her feel better, even if he had no idea what it was that she found so upsetting. So before he knew what he was doing, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "When I was a young boy, my mother taught me how to bake bread."

Martha looked up at him curiously,  doe eyes shining in the light. He continued, "We had this huge clay oven at the back. While I was waiting for it to cook, my friend Kael invited me over to play by the river, and of course I agreed." He chuckled at the memory. "I lost track of time, and by the time my mother went back from the market the bread was burnt as coal. We ended up using it as kindling for grilling fish. She whacked me with a paddle, wouldn't stop scolding me for days. "

She snorted. "You're such an idiot."

"I was a child."

Their topic was lighter after that. Naib wouldn't be the type to talk to others first, especially to people he just met. But there was just something about her that made conversing so easy, as if she'd known you for months, not mere hours.

She leaned on the bench,  brown eyes watching the clouds roll by. "I used to be a cavalry captain back in the war. Gave it up for my dream, but I got stuck as a flight coordinator instead. Like I said, no one was willing to believe that I could do it. So here I am."

He looked at her, not really surprised. Martha seemed to be the type that could connect to people effortlessly. He could easily see her being a leader, shouting orders on what she deems best, encouraging those who are lacking in heart.

"I was a mercenary for the East India Company." He said hesitantly.

"Really?" She exclaimed, a fascinated look painted on her face. "Wouldn't it be interesting if we've met in the war? "

"Don't be silly Martha. " He mocked, throwing back her words at her. "If that did happen, I doubt that we wouldn't try to attack each other. Would you really want to meet like that?"

She hummed in response, silently plucking the carnation petals one by one. The sunlight filtered through her chestnut hair, turning it into a deep bronze. At last, she spoke, barely a whisper. "Well, then I'm glad we met here instead then."

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(Author's note: I hope she doesn't seem too forward but Martha seems like a confident woman who is not afraid to get what she want. I also thought she would be an extrovert and someone who's unafraid to voice out her opinion.)