I wake with my forehead pressed against a cold wooden wall, the rest of my body slightly sore from laying on the wood floor of the cart, yet comfortably warm. I turn myself over and see Rose on the other side of the wagon, still fast asleep. My mother's crumpled blanket lies in the narrow space between us, no longer occupied.
I sit up against the crates. My blanket falls halfway down my arms. I consider leaving the cart, or perhaps peeking through the front seat of the cart, but it is still early in the morning. There are likely many creepers and skeletons still hunting around. So, I resolve to stay quiet and keep myself hidden.
I settle back into my blanket. I hear heavy footsteps crush the ground, and a heavy rope slides against the wagon walls. The wagon rocks from side to side.
"Good morning, Iris!" My mother says. "Come out and have something to eat."
I reluctantly sit up again. How could my mother sense that I just woke up, without seeing me in the cart? Her perceptiveness of my behavior borders on clairvoyance.
I unwrap my blanket and roll it up. I open the wagon door, land my feet onto the forest leaves and rocks, and close the wagon door behind me. I walk around the wagon and see my mother fastening the reins of the hogs to the cart. Her hair is disheveled, her leather chestplate equipped and slightly misaligned, and her sheath hangs at her hip, the base of the sword blade visible. I see a crate resting on the wagon seat, with bundles of food-storing red plaid fabric peeking out of its top. One of the fabric-covered masses sits outside of the crate, a corner partially unfolded enough to show some of the bread and crumbs within.
"Is Rose awake yet?" she asks.
"No," I tell her.
"Alright, let her be, then."
I walk to the crate, reach inside it, and extract an apple from one of the wrapped bundles. The apple is cold and firm in my hand. I bite into it. It is tart. My stomach awakes with hunger, and I eat the apple quickly.
After Mom fastens the hogs, she puts the food crate away and enters the wagon. I throw the apple core into the forest, and climb into the wagon seat beside her.
In the early afternoon, the houses and refugees come into view.
I did not expect there to be so many people. Many came in wagons like us, with children and unarmed refugees in tow. Some came on hogs, some heavily armored, but many others are not even equipped with a leather vest.
As the refugees congregate, a leader steps forward, an elder from the local town holding an arrow in their fist, who declares themself the mediator of the abandoned houses and their resources, and makes it clear that the remaining residents of Brendan's Clear are not to be disturbed.
My mother agrees to share our house with two other wagons. One of them is an elderly couple from the city. The other is a wagon with one adult, and three obnoxious young children who cannot shut up or sit still for three seconds. I already know I am going to loathe living in this house.
My mom claims a bedroom which I will share with my mom and Rose. The elderly couple introduces themselves to me and Rose, and then my mom tells me and Rose to wait in the bedroom, as she talks to the other adult.
I lay on the bed for a moment. The blankets are are smelly, but soft. Rose plops beside me and shuffles the formerly folded blankets, burying most of her face inside them. She stares at me and smiles deviously.
Outside the room, two of the annoying kids are playing a game where each repeats the exact word the other is saying, over and over again. I sigh, close my eyes, and breathe deeply, trying to remember my magic concentration lessons. I begin to organize my thoughts, then I get to the third part, when I am supposed to feel the energy of my mana pool, and remember that my mana pool is completely empty. This realization makes me so frustrated that it shatters my concentration, and am forced to start all over again.
"Iris," Rose calls out to me.
I do not respond, and instead try to concentrate on my breathing.
Rose pokes me.
"Iris," Rose calls out again.
I sigh with deep annoyance, and open my eyes. "What is it?"
"Do you think Mom and Dad will get back together again?"
I try not to react negatively.
"Ferdinand is not your father."
"I know," Rose says. "I meant YOUR Mom. And YOUR Dad."
"I do not know," I admit, "and, quite frankly, I do not want to talk about it."
"Because it makes you sad?"
"Yes, it does," I also admit.
"Sad because... they don't like each other?"
"That is none of your business," I snap. "My mom and dad are apart because of the war. That is all you need to know."
"Mom wants the war to end as soon as possible. Dad wants our country to defeat the Planarans."
"What part of, 'none of your business,' do you not understand?" I ask with annoyance.
"Well then, I am SORRY I brought it to your attention," Rose says.
I try to follow my own words and say no more. If I give Rose the motivation to say something else, I will only get angrier and angrier.
But as I consider Rose's words, I start to wonder if my father is staying away from my mother intentionally. And I am angry at myself for not realizing it sooner.
My mother does not hesitate to enlist me to unload the wagon. I do not resent her for it, as I am glad for a task to distract me. I help her unpack some of the crates, and then we carry the rest into the bedroom. My mother gives me supplies to craft a sword and leather chestplate, and I discover horrifyingly that not even crafting is spared from my painful magical illness. So, Mom crafts them for me. I equip an oversized leather chestpiece, and a reasonably balanced iron sword. I then follow her into the forest, where she gathers wood and mushrooms. We briefly stop for a meal, then continue further. We are not the only ones in search of supplies. By the time Mom leads us to the river, fishing rod in hand, the bank is already crowded with travellers and fishing nets. One fishing group lets us assist them, and we take home our share of fish for the day.
Back at the house, Rose has quickly imitated the other three children's dysfunction and is running around and screaming with them. My mother does not stop to scold her, and instead leads me quickly into the house. My mother and I put things away and kindle the two furnaces. I add fish to a burning furnace, while my mother prepares some fresh bread.
Sunset comes and the door is locked, with the parent, two elders, four loud children, and myself inside. We gather around the table, the four young children sharing two chairs. I will also share a chair with my mother, once she sits down. She sets the food down on the crowded table, sits down next to me, and the room turns quiet, engrossed by the meal.
Mom and I clean the table, and then we settle down... while the little kids get a second wind. This time, my mom intervenes, ordering Rose into the bedroom. Her newfound rebelliousness compels her to protest, and my mother scolds her and orders her more sternly. I smile, appreciating as Rose capitulates to the return of order. When I enter the bedroom, Rose locks eyes with me and scowls in retaliation, when my mother is not looking.
The three of us settle into the bed together and close our eyes. In this forest town, the monsters are bolder, and their shadows pass close to the windows. Once, I thought I heard one tapping on the glass.