16. Not Too Bad for Hell

Obrázek uživatele Blanca
Úvodní poznámka: 

Jsem rebel. Vím, že už mám v kapitolách dávno hrozný skluz a píšu tak nepravidelně, až to popírá účel téhle výzvy. A víte co? Mám novorozence a píšu víc, než jsem psala roky předtím. Takže jsem na sebe i tak hrdá. A budu v tom pokračovat, i když mě nikdo nečte ;)


The potion bubbled in a slow simmer and Zaria smiled, satisfied. Then she turned back to the little crucible over another fire. The metal was not quite melted yet so she took the moment to stand in the door, looking out into the courtyard. The fortress was its usual bustle, no one spared the young girl more than a passing glance. Even the children, their voices raised in a game, only waved at her. Her hand twitched, but in the end she acknowledged them with just a bob of her head. The truth was, she didn't much care for children. Perhaps it was because she was barely older than they were and yet, it seemed like she already lived at least three lifetimes.
Her eyes unfocused as her mind flew back to the cold and yet weirdly suffocating night four years ago.

She was a girl like any other. She worried about fashion and just started noticing boys (or perhaps they just started noticing her). She helped out in the kitchen and around the house, learning from her mother and other women. Her special favourite was her father's mother. Everybody else thought the old matriarch was a bit weird, eventhough no one dared to say so in her (or her son's) hearing. To Zaria, however, aljida Maleika was an icon. She ruled the household with determination and iron will, but at the same time encouraged each and every one of the many children to explore and learn - even things which the other adults didn't look too kindly to. And when anyone had a problem, they would invariably go to her and she would find a solution. It was her, who first introduced Zaria to the finer arts of boiling herbs and other ingredients into remedies. And as the little girl grew, she learned to recognize the "silly rhymes and ditties" her jida sang for what they really were - incantations. She still remembered the smell of the special "kitchen" they used to prepare them. And Maleika's face was still the last thing she saw when she closed her eyes in the evening. Just as it was when she kissed her goodnight that evening the war came into their little town.
Zaria haven't yet figured out, whether it really was war, or whether aljida and the rest of them served as a lightning rod for some displeasure in the local community - she didn't quite notice the faces of those who attacked her homestead in the middle of the night. What she remembered was the mad dash out of the door and the face of her mother, when she started asking questions.
And so she didn't. Father and jida, and so, so many others, disappeared somewhere in the confusion... sometimes she wondered, if they were killed or if they joined the rest of the family in the camp they ran to after -
She only spent three or four days in that small, sad, smelly tent. Refugee in her own country. After that she got "selected" by crimps, brought into a fortress, that also served as a laboratory, or maybe a sorcerer's sanctum would have been a better term. She didn't brew many potions while there.

Závěrečná poznámka: 

Obsahuje Překvapení č. 4 - retrospektivu.


Obrázek uživatele Tess

A ja te stejne ctu a vzdycky jsem hrozne rada, kdyz se objevi dalsi kapitola...

Obrázek uživatele Elluška

Protože mimina jsou úžasný time manageři! "Rychle, než se vzbudí", heslo naší firmy. Já jsem nikdy nenapsala víc než když jsou ty moje potwóry ve školách :))
Ale k příběhu.
Aaaaaaaaa! To je tohle děvčátko! Které sahá na věci, na které sahat nemá! Ok, vykouzlila mi na tváři dost mnohoznačný úsměv.

P.s. (alias SH): Pokud si můžu dovolit být superkritická, tak bych strašně ocenila, kdybys dopisovala ty kousky, kde se mimino vzbudilo neplánovaně dřív, protože tam přicházíme o kus myšlenky a mně to jako čtenáři chybí :)

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