[Boboiboy] Made by History

Looking in a Mirror

I have excuses! I've been taking my finals, I've been... Ok fine, I don't have excuses. I just didn't feel like writing.

Nonetheless, I churned out 80% of this in the last 5 days, so here's to hoping that my writing mania lasts all the way through the next three installments in the series. Hey, maybe you guys won't have to wait several months next time!

Meanwhile, enjoy Blaze's arc!

Warnings: poverty & undernutrition.

***

Sunlight spilled over the horizon, illuminating the barren, desolate countryside. Not another soul was in sight at this early hour. Eyes still bleary with sleep, Blaze trailed behind Halilintar and Solar down a dirt path between two overgrown fields.

Halilintar the Morning Lark threw him an irritated glare when he yawned widely. He ignored it.

For who-knew-how-many days, they'd been trekking through the wilderness from sunrise to sunset, and the toll was starting to show. Blaze, who usually ran on relatively little sleep, was finding it harder and harder to keep up the fast pace they'd set. So was Solar, it seemed, but that was neither here nor there; as for Halilintar, Blaze strongly suspected the boy was running on sheer force of will. Like– he was just as eager to escape the possible dangers of unknown territory as the rest of them, but geez, didn't they know the concept of conserving energy?

He doubted it. He'd lived with them too long to have such illusions.

As if the deities he didn't believe in had chosen to take pity on him, at that moment, the silhouette of the first village they'd seen in days rose over the horizon. Blaze swore, right then and there, that he would never take civilization for granted again.

***

Upon closer inspection, the village didn't really boast much. A smattering of cottages, a small communal space, a well off to the side, and a few sickly crops that fed the entirety of the inhabitants. If not for the fact that it existed beside a large road, it probably wouldn't exist at all.

Blaze, Halilintar and Solar garnered a few curious looks as they entered, but they were largely ignored. The villagers had likely seen their fair share of ragged travelers on Deltora Way passing through, and it was usually better not to question strangers' motives – plausible deniability, as they said. (The three of them pulled their hoods tighter, just in case.) However, the lack of interest also made it abundantly clear that even if the village had resources to spare – which it didn't – there was no chance of finding lodgings here.

Blaze's dreams of hot food died a quick and gruesome death.

The sound of cart wheels trundling along on Deltora Way drifted on the wind to their ears. Exchanging resigned looks, they made for the shadows behind the closest hut, walking as fast as they dared without appearing unnatural.

This was becoming distressingly commonplace, as of late. Deltora Way was a convenient guide to help them stay on track; however, being one of the largest roads in Deltora, it also came with its fair share of travelers: friends and foes and one masquerading as the other. As a result, the three of them were obliged to stay just out of sight of the road at all times, ducking into the nearest hiding spot when an approach was heard. (The hiding spot in question was not always well-chosen. They all swore never to mention the Fighting Spider incident again.)

Blaze dodged around a pair of young identical twins chasing after their friends and flattened himself against the wall just as the cart came into sight.

Closer inspection made his eyes narrow and his hands clench. The cart, heading back towards Del, was being driven by a pair of Guards. Piled high were barrels of food and cloth and other nameless luxuries – for the Shadow Lord's minions in the palace, no doubt, with their filling meals and soft beds. And meanwhile, those who provided those comforts, like the villagers that surrounded them now, continued to live in unspeakable poverty.