2 – Moment of Contrition
Wherein Dusty gets hot coffee, a decision is made, and things are rethought.
Dusty Delves yawned widely and blearily and awoke slowly to the sunlight through the Inn window, accompanied by the smell of coffee, which was strange at first but nice afterwards. She did not know that it was called coffee at the time, so she asked Arfas, who was already awake, and Arfas told her what it was.
She did not have what anyone would call a morning routine, because it was silly to make guesses and she lived her life on the move from one place to another, but she supposed that a wizard would have a routine and so he did. She just did not really know what it was until she had sat and watched him for a little while. It looked very plain.
Anyway, instead of watching him she yawned again and sat back and sipped at the drink and thought over the previous night’s events. He had taken her to a place which he had called beautiful, and it had been pretty she supposed in a strange sort of way, like a big underground desert with a lot of salt which one could not eat, he had assured her. And he had showed her a great big sea serpent that had died, from what she understood, a long time ago, and he had used a large number of words she did not clearly understand to describe why it had died or how, and then he had said it would all inevitably end that way – everything.
It was like nothing she had ever seen before so generously she assumed that it must have been pretty, because it was unique and unknown to her, and therefore wonderous. Then she had killed a bunch of what were called Gith, except that Arfas had not wanted her to do it and had kept asking her not to fight, but that was silly because they were not very powerful. And supposedly there were more of them somewhere, but she had not found any more of them. There had been a lake and he had said something about fishing, although he did not look like a fisherman in dark red-and-black robes, but she had thought it better not to tell him so. And anyway she vaguely remembered one of her sisters pickling things and it had required a lot of water and salt, so she was sure that any fish that came out of that water would probably be sour.
But she had told him things, like how she had been feeling, and he had told her that she was “frustrated” which was not something Dusty could recall ever feeling before, which is likely why she could not have put a name to it herself. And she had told him about the man she had liked, on meeting him, and he had gotten very upset and said a bunch of things that Dusty had not understood, except that he said that he loved her, which was simpler to understand. Dusty supposed that she loved him also, except that she got the feeling that because he was human, it did not mean the same thing.
Frustrated.
She carefully sipped at the hot liquid which she supposed he must have put something like sugar or something into.
Dusty did not often feel conflicted. If she wanted to do something, she did it, and if she liked someone, she told them, and if someone needed hit, she would hit them. If things were good to do and nice, she would do them, and if they were wrong, she would not. And she had come a long way away from worrying about how stupid she was compared to other people. So she had not felt this way before that she could remember, at least not since she were a small child. Like her whole being were keening for something. Like wanderlust and laziness mixed together in a pot.
Arfas was talking, saying something about an apology, so Dusty stopped thinking a while to answer him and yes, she was fine, and yes, so was he, and no, she did not mind if he left, and yes, and no, and so on until he had gone and she could focus again. He really did have pretty hair except she thought that he ought to shave because the stubble was unpleasant to touch.
He had said that she should leave the Militia. After all, she could not read, and did not understand the laws, and did not want to throw anyone into what she had come to know as a jail because it was a very unpleasant place to be. Mildred had also told her that the armor was borrowed, and that she should not give it away, even if people needed helmets or armor, which was a strange notion because obviously it was Dusty’s armor and had been given to her, and she had never said anything about giving it back afterwards. Also there were evil things to fight, and Dusty did not know how to go about it without making Mildred angry or someone else, even if she could have started in on it, because Mildred was always talking about responsibilities and all of that stuff that made little sense to her. So if Dusty had been alone she would have given away the armor, even though it was very nice armor, and she would have taken her old armor back and returned to doing what she had always done which seemed aright all on its own merits.
But Dusty did not want to leave Mildred all alone, even if she had Vincent now to keep her company, because Dusty had said that they were sisters and meant it. She supposed that did not go away just because of some silliness about oaths and things, but got the sense that Mildred would be sad if she left.
In fact, Dusty could not quite work out what she felt, which is why she had told Arfas, who it stood to reason was very intelligent and could think about lots of things if she could communicate them rightly. And then Arfas had told her what he felt like and it had ended here, in this inn, which had not been unpleasant, but which had been strange because she got the feeling that even if Arfas was very intelligent, he was not very honest with himself, and it showed in everything he did or tried to do, like he did not quite believe anything was right or correct even if Dusty had thought it were perfectly fine at the time.
The Militia. A job. Duty. Mildred.
Dusty roused a bit more and sat up and was careful with the cup she had been given. She yawned again. She was not used to making decisions like this and it made her want to curl back up and go back to sleep and dreaming, and the sheets were very warm. But she supposed that at the end of it, Mildred would understand, or she would not, and Dusty might love her also, but it was not as though a person should not love themselves the more, because then there was no point to loving other people or caring about them. That had been her mother, who was very wise and kind, who had taught her that, and let her go from all of the hurtful things that people had tried to make her do to herself.
Dusty did not really want to change for other people. Even if it made other people sad. It would be worse, she supposed, if she were a sad person herself. And it was very clear that Dusty did not fit here. She could not read, or write, or do reports, and every time that Mildred explained things to her, it got a little sadder. Like a person would talk to a pet, like Dusty had always spoken to her cat, Whiskers. Little soft things to make people happy, that did not really have any meaning. Dusty did not blame Mildred, because she knew she was not as smart as other people and also she was used to it, so Mildred could not at all be blamed. But, it had a hint of sadness in it all the same.
Dusty sipped at her coffee and found that there was no more of it, and she wondered if she should ask for more, but Arfas had already gone and she would have to get dressed, and did not feel like moving yet, so she sat the cup on the table and flopped back into bed and went back to sleep, because sleep was good and thinking was tiresome and it was too early to do anything good, anyway.
Today when she woke up again, she decided, she would go with that new man, whatever she did, whose name she had forgotten. Jason? Jared? Whatever his name was. She felt that maybe that would be something, because he had talked a lot like she thought, only she could not talk like that. And they would go and they would kill all of the evil men that had been murdering people, and stealing things, and planting horrible trees, and that would be a good and heroic thing to do, whatever else the case may be.
