Young Writers Society

After breakfast, the mind numbing, back breaking, and sweat inducing work seemed both much faster and unbearably slower. On one hand, the work was smaller than the log work in the morning, with it mostly just being the odds and ends of filling in the rest of the carriage. The journey to Diajaveer was not one easily made --they could not just simply walk to Diajaveer, at least not until the bridge was complete-- so they had to make sure to fit everything they could onto the wagon and carriage without overworking the animals that push their cart. It was more a work for their brains, or more specifically Krieves' brains, than their backs, but it still made Leigh sweat. At least he didn't have to work his brain as well as his body. The less he had to think, the better. 

Even then, it took them the better part of the remaining sunlight to get everything in place for their trek tomorrow. Leigh wished they would have stopped to eat again before finishing everything, but Krieves had gently but firmly explained to him that they needed to complete this before sunlight ended. Krieves was a man who didn't take anything less than perfect. Leigh couldn't help but appreciate the man's tact. He was definitely the one to lead building an entirely new city. But, it was irritating when Leigh's more primal senses wanted to take over, like his stomach complaining increasingly louder and louder about wanting food.

But, finally, they finished. They led the carriage to their barn to keep it close to the farm animals so they didn't have to pull it themselves any further than they had to. However, by the time they had gotten to the barn, light crackling in the air carried with it the tell-tale sign of impending storms. They had no spot by the barn to keep the carriage under cover. Leigh wanted to groan and just say fuck it and let's go inside to get some food and tempt fate before they go back out to take the carriage into town, but with one look exchanged with Krieves, he knew that would certainly not be the case. Sometimes he had to fight himself to not argue with Krieves because he would never, not in any scenario, win those arguments, not like the ones with Vera. 

See, Vera was passionate and let her emotions and feelings get into the cases she argued, much like Leigh, so it was a more even battlefield against Vera. But, with Krieves, well, sometimes Leigh doubted the man even had emotions since he was so logical. The man felt more akin to the carriage they dragged than the family he had back in the house sometimes. This assumption was no more prevalent than when trying to argue with him. It wasn't that he was stubborn or refused to listen, he just always had the frustrating way to point out the best logical way to go about things and persuade everyone around him that that was the way to do things. Even if Leigh didn't personally agree with Krieves sometimes, the man knew how to present his idea as the best idea overall.

So, they trekked through the still damp dirt, tugging the stubborn carriage behind them with tight ropes that bit into their shoulders while they walked, all the way to the town. It seemed like the carriage didn't move at all when they did, or they took steps backwards instead of forwards at times, but somehow they did end up managing to get to town. The Krieves' household wasn't far from town, no, but it was far enough away that the sun had managed to almost completely vanish from the sky by the time they reached its outskirts. Having a house that resided next to the farm instead of closer to the town meant they were bit of distant neighbors to the rest of the town, but Leigh enjoyed the solitude for the most part. The less people he had to be around, the less questions he had to answer. His family asked mundane things like how he was or how this thing worked or if they could play with the animals. The most painful thing to answer was Vera's poking about his lack of a love life.

But, the town folks, well, they asked far more insidious questions. Why did he wear a glove, why did he not look like the rest of the Krieves family, did he have a past. Questions he shoved down from his own mind that came scratching and clawing back to the forefront of his mind when someone else probed. They weren't ever that forward, no, unless it was a child being youthfully and innocently curious. No, they were devious. They approached the subject from around the corner. They tested the edges, brushed against the defenses. The innocence had been stamped out of them, like it had been gutted from Leigh. However, when that happened, something worse slithered in to fill the vacancy. It was a beast that had no end to its hunger, and it suckled to secrets. If secrets there were none, then it had to be sustained by spreading rumors. This monster lapped ravenously at his borders. He was an outsider, and they wanted in. Well, jokes on them; Leigh has spent most of his lifetime keeping his own thoughts, wants, desires, out of his own mind. They would have to try harder and for much longer to pry his secrets out of him. But, boy, did they try. While his defenses remained solid, his mental fortitude did not have nearly the resistance training.

Still, he had to steel himself no matter how worn that mental metal was. He vacated his mind as the roads transformed from trodden mud to a mixture of cobble and clay and narrowed. It was the first sign of some kind of civilization since they left their farm.

As they followed the road that circled the outskirts of the town, Leigh had begun to realize something was different on their trek into town. All roads that lead into their little town didn't actually lead directly into town. Instead, they snaked around the outside, like a funnel of water before it descended into the depths of the drain in the middle. It was Krieves' idea. Somehow, the town had actually agreed to his idea, and thus this convoluted mess of a way into town was created. Krieves had envisioned it as a sort of way to unite the fractured villages from the war to a common goal that was easily seen. If everyone had to circle the town and take in the mosaic of cultures and styles before actually entering the town, they would be more appreciative of the work that went into building the town, and thus they would put in more effort, continuing the cycle into one of success. Or, so Krieves spouted out at any chance he could. Leigh really only thought it was unnecessary. But, there was a reason they didn't ask him to build the cities. Well, it was one of an entire list of reasons, but he was sure it held a place somewhere up at the top.

That wasn't the thing that irritated him this time, though. Sure, it was still irritating, but Leigh was more annoyed with the fact that no one had greeted them yet. Now, normally Leigh would be absolutely comforted by this fact, as it meant less time actually interacting with people. But, this also meant that Krieves had no one to talk to. And he was extremely chatty when they got into town. He just reeked of enthusiasm, and the folks in the town guzzled it down like it was the first water they had in days. That meant, unfortunately, that Krieves had no one but Leigh to focus his energy on. Leigh was already done with the day, so he just had to settle with ignoring Krieves besides the occasional agreement or hum that tipped Krieves off he was still paying attention and invested in the absolutely one-sided conversation.

The start of soft pattering on his shoulders and pinned up hair offered him an answer as to why there were no villagers to be seen. That could be it; they didn't want to be loitering on the edge of town when the storm inevitably rolled in. Leigh could relate. The last place he wanted to be was in town when the storm hit, because he knew Krieves would want to get back to the farm. That meant trekking through wind and rain and sludge. That was something Leigh was looking forward to almost as little as the slight verbal jabs he was doomed to get from the people in town about his appearance or his differences. Them happening back to back left an even more sour taste in his mouth.

By the time they got to the entrance of town, Krieves had finally noticed there was no one about. It took him less time than Leigh would have guessed. That surprised him, but it unnerved him more. When Krieves noticed something was off, it meant doom was right around the corner. Just ask the burnt shack that pathetically sat behind their farm, away from view.

Krieves voiced his concerns. It was the first thing Leigh's mind actually registered enough for him to discern the words the older man was saying. It was like his brain had poked him in the mental ribs, forcing him to pay attention to the lecture, as there was going to be an assignment the next day on those exact words. Gods, class was a pain. He was so happy he didn't have to do that anymore. Still, even with the prodding, he forgot to actually respond to his father until the man asked his question again.

"Say, Leigh, where do you think everyone's hiding at?"

"They're probably in the tavern, Apa." Leigh drudged out, his words barely separating themselves as they escaped his lips.

Krieves seemed to notice his lack of enthusiasm in his response, because he glanced back at Leigh; something that he did not do often when he was in one of these moods. He offered a small smile to Leigh. "Don't worry, we'll get out of the weather soon, and fill our bellies with some mead and hot stew."

Now that he mentioned it, Leigh's stomach had just remembered it had not eaten for far too long and it was going to audibly and aggressively remind Leigh about this. "That sounds good," Leigh muttered out, with much less excitement than his stomach wanted him to do.