Haze and Hesitation

Chapter 8- A Taste of the Past

Ilyana- Before

I blinked away the haziness that had fallen over my vision to find myself in my bed. Haniyah sat by me on a chair she had pulled up.

"You're finally up," she smiled tiredly. "How are you feeling?"

"Thirsty," I croaked. "What happened?"

She poured out a glass of water from the pitcher standing beside the basin. "You passed out after...after everything happened." She helped me sit up and put the glass to my lips.

"Oh. How long was I out?" The curtains were shut tight, and I couldn't tell the time.

"It's dark out already," she replied as she sat back down. "Mabrukah and the kids went back home."

My face must have fallen visibly. "Ilyana, what's wrong? You've never fainted like that before."

I sighed. "I- I'm not sure."

Haniyah rested her hand on mine, an immensely loving gesture I hadn't expected would feel so calming. "It must be the stress. Promise me you'll let me help you when you need it?"

I smiled, knowing she meant it, but I didn't promise her anything, and Haniyah quickly changed the subject. "Well, in other news, the rest of your belongings arrived a little while ago. Mama even sent some of her special spekkoek for you!"

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We sat at the kitchen table as Mother's cook, a motherly old woman named Cordula, placed a thick slice of spekkoek with a warm glass of milk in front of us both.
"Now let me tell you about this 'un when she was li'l," she patted my head as she spoke to Haniyah. "Wheneva' she dinna want ter sleep I'd get up even middle o' night and fix 'er up some warm milk."

I laughed, remembering all those lonely nights when I would drag Cordula out of her bed under the pretense of not being able to sleep so she could sit in the kitchen with me. "You used to tell me tales about the Times of Old while I drank my milk," I reminisced, remembering a time that, despite being lonely, was simpler. A cup of warm milk paired with Cordula's stories of Times of Old were remedy enough then.

"Oh, really? Do you know much about the Times of Old, tante Cordula?" Haniyah leaned forward eagerly.
"Well I dunno much, but wot I do know was passed down from me mama, from her mama, and so on," Curdula explained.

"I do love to hear about it--please tell us a story tonight, tante!" Haniyah implored.
"As you can tell, Haniyah is somewhat an enthusiast of the Times of Old," I explained.

"Ah," Cordula let out a loud sigh as she settled into a chair across from us, "well, I dinna have any 'pecific stories to tell ya right now, but I will tell ya, me very own maman once owned a relic."

Haniyah's eyes widened like saucers in her little round face. "A relic?" she almost whispered.

"Yes, 'twas a fragile thing. Wot was it called..." Cordula thrummed her fingers against the table as she tried to remember.

"Are you talking about the sidies?" I offered quizzically. I'd seen them with my own eyes. Cordula hung them above her work table –she would tell me for good luck– when I was younger, but I hadn't known they were relics.

"Right! That's the one right there!" Cordula replied enthusiastically. "Me maman had a collection of 'em. Fragile li'l disks they was. About the sizes of these right 'ere," she said as she picked up a round flatbread from a plate with her weathered baker's hands. "But even flatter, and shiny."