Gift- Book 1

Chapter 34

Leiea flinches at the noise of footsteps behind her. She curls up into a ball even more, resisting the urge to start quivering by latching onto the plough- the same one she ends up by too often.

"It's okay, it's just me," Hania says, turning Leiea by the shoulder to look at her. She immediately relaxes and scoots over to let her sit, but she shakes her head. "We should talk. Follow me?" Leiea groans but stands up, her knees cramping.

Hania leads her to the opposite side of the camp, closer to the cemetery still in progress. She turns the corner into a square of land with an absurdly small tent. Around it, piles of burnt materials, tools, and wood crowd the area, the only empty part a thin path to the tent. She laughs nervously and kicks a branch at her foot.

"This is the dump for extra materials, more or less," Hania says, and Leiea nods. She continues, "I don't live here, but I like a good hideout. I think someone used to live in this, but I don't know. It's pretty much mine now. Come on,"

They pass through the path, both of them tripping over fallen materials. Leiea notices a thick layer of frost over everything, accumulated from not being used or touched. She feels a chill run down her spine being reminded of the storm. It's been more than a day since the signs of it arose. Still, nothing has happened besides the dark clouds growing thicker and driving lower.

Hania stumbles ahead and opens the tent, letting Leiea inside. On the floor, a small log sits as a stool with a worn canvas bag on it. In the opposite corner is the bow and quiver that Hania wielded. Leiea wonders why she would leave such a beautiful weapon unguarded.

Hania steps forward and takes the bag off of the stool, throwing it on the floor. She pats the top of the stool and sits on the floor next to it, only a few inches lower. Leiea accepts it and takes the seat, leaning on the sturdy metal pole in the corner of the tent.

She laughs at how uncomfortable it is. It's easy to relate it to her own hideout that was in the caravan, but at least that one was more welcoming. She notices a spider on the ceiling, both the creature and it's web frozen. Hania looks at her, confused.

Leiea shifts her weight slowly. "It's nothing... but what were you wanting to discuss?"

Hania sighs and looks her in the eye. "I know there's more behind all this. It's understandable if it's just between you and Sheyric, but it's only right that I know. Or really, if all of the team knows. That speech he put together excluded a lot."

Leiea inhales and looks the other way. Of course she's right, it's not very inclusive to hide the information, but it's personal and frightening. Someone that she doesn't even want to think about most of the time. She releases her pent-up breath and clenches her fist, preparing to explain.

And so she does it. Possibly putting into much detail about the first appearance of the bird man, as well as the attacks from the birds. Throughout the retelling, Hania listens intently, connecting everything and making sense of it with quiet muttering. The story about the old woman and Galerus makes her visibly bothered, while recounts of Plei and her hospitality causes her to smile like a fool. She even seems confused after the selling of the caravan, after all it provided for both Sheyric and Leiea. Yet, none of her reactions could've compared to her breakdown from hearing what they saw in the ruins of the village.

Leiea pauses and reaches to pull Hania up, regardless of her intense quivering and sobbing. She pushes her hand down and wipes tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I should've left that out. Nothing happens beyond it," Leiea says, almost disappointed in herself. She should've known that everyone that experienced the attack would be hurt by the account of the aftermath.