A place to sit and remember

  Corvus and Elsyn charted their way back to the cave. Its surrounding ground was covered in knee-deep snow from the blizzard. They noticed a small burrow just outside the cave—something that previously was not there.

  "Has some new creature entered the area?" Corvus asked, his one hand softly placed on the blade while he scanned the area for any threats.

  "No. An older one has gone hunting," Elsyn replied.

  Corvus raised an eyebrow at her cryptic words.

  Without hesitation, she thrust her hand inside, and continued, "A small, inquisitive goblin, that is..."

  She grabbed something and pulled hard—dragging a small figure by its leg from inside: "...My sister."

  Elsyn looked down at the younger sibling sprawled on the ground and asked, "Well Pipsqueak, do you have something to say for yourself?"

  "I thou—"

  Elsyn cut her off before she could finish: "You do not. That's your answer, you don't have anything to say, and you are very, very sorry, and you promise never to repeat this ever again. Yes?"

  "Yes, sis," the younger sibling looked at her sister, who was waiting for something more, and continued, "I don't have anything to say for myself, and I am very sorry—"

  Elsyn tilted her head and started staring at the younger sibling more keenly, prompting the latter to make certain rectifications: "I am very, very sorry, and I promise never to repeat this ever again."

  "Good. Now, let's go back inside," Elsyn said as she offered a hand to lift her sister.

  The younger sibling merrily went back to the cave.

  Corvus, looking at her, asked suspiciously, "You think she'll actually listen?"

  "This dose should last till we are off the mountain, but after that she will require more, frequently," Elsyn responded, with her last word making Corvus slightly uneasy.

  He saw the younger sibling waving at them from inside and gesturing for them to come.

  Her happy demeanor made him remark, "She looks far too happy for someone whose near future... isn't exactly bright."

  "It's her way of celebrating; she got off easy this time," Elsyn said.

  "I have no doubt of that," Corvus added and moved inside.

  No doubt? What did he mean by that? Elsyn mused before following after the other two.

  The three figures comfortably sat around a bonfire, being fuelled by the meat's fat and fibre. Inside the fire, several chunks of meat—some wolf and some leopard meat—were slowly roasting. The raw yet appetizing aroma of the food filled the entire cave, while the succulent sight of the meat induced a mouth-watering sensation for the three ravenous figures.

  The aroma and the sight coupled with their recent ordeals sent each of them to their own reveries.

  For Corvus, the sound of meat roasting sent him to the times when he and the rest of the Reavers used to camp in the wilderness. Despite the wild's inhospitable nature, he had never felt uncomfortable or unwelcomed.

  He remembered the frivolous chattering of the Squadron Leaders and Elric Ironbough. Though he seldom initiated them, he always had a place in them. Today, he missed his companions and his place amongst them.

  Quietly staring at the dancing flames, Elsyn's mind drifted to her time with the enslaved children—her first friends. She remembered the inane contest between team raw food vs team cooked food, and how her vote had decided the match.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  She missed Teo's antics, Livia's conversations, Sena's belligerent but pure and sincere nature, Gar's comments, and Olren's silent but comforting presence.

  Please be alright, guys.

  The younger sibling, firmly holding her legs, playfully oscillated back and forth. Her innocent eyes, fixed on the food, patiently waited. She had endured nowhere near as much as her sister or Corvus had. Her soul was still unblemished by the cruelness of the world, yet something felt amiss—an absent figure behind her.

  Each time she leaned towards the fire she felt its searing heat on her chest and face, and away from it, her back chilled.

  The cold and bonfire evoked the scene of Caldraveth's night, where her mother's rugged but gentle hands firmly embraced her. For all the heat the flames gave, they failed to match the warmth of her mother's embrace, without which she felt almost naked in the cold.

  Her reddened cheeks longed for her mother's kiss, her disheveled hair longed for her mother's caress, and her shivering back longed for her mother's pressing warmth.

  In her moment of yearning, the younger sibling felt a pang of sadness that just would not go away. She tightened her grip over her legs and intensified her oscillations in an attempt to calm her restless heart.

  "Hey, calm yourself—you'll hurt your head," Corvus said while holding the younger sibling's shoulders.

  "Is everything alright, 'squeak?" Elsyn inquired.

  "Yes, it's... Nothing, sis."

  Elsyn's gaze lingered on her sister for a few seconds, but then she noticed the food: "Looks like it's done."

  Just as she was about to take the meat off, Corvus stopped her: "Hey, what are you doing, girl? It's clearly not done yet."

  Elsyn raised both her eyebrows: "Excuse me?"

  "I'm the best cook in my unit, so trust me on this, okay."

  "And I'm the person uncle turned to for preparing food whenever there was an extra crowd in his café. So I'm a certified pro in the art of cooking. Whereas your unit, fearsome as they might be, would've eaten anything in dire situations—including your cooking," Elsyn sharply retorted.

  Before Corvus could argue back, she again spoke, "Let's say, for argument's sake, that you're the better cook of us two, then as per your 'alleged' expertise, when should we remove the meats?"

  Smirking a little, Corvus confidently answered, "When the meat is pitch-black and smoke starts to rise then..."

  He stopped mid-sentence as he saw the siblings' faces. Elsyn smiled deviously, having basically won the match. The younger sibling looked worried.

  "Corvus, are your friends really healthy—or alive—after eating your food?" the younger sibling asked.

  Elsyn interjected, "I bet they rarely let him cook. They must be fuelling his ego to maintain some excuse."

  "First of all, yes they're all healthy," Corvus said calmly to the younger sibling.

  Then, focusing on Elsyn, his tone sharpened, "And, secondly, I do only cook sometimes, but that's because I take ages to prepare my masterpieces. So, they told to me to cook only on special occasions..."

  At last it dawned on Corvus that his comrades had avoided his cooking all this time.

  I'm going to murder Lucien and Soraya, he thought.

  "Well, do continue, Mr. Best-chef of the unit," Elsyn teased him.

  "Fine. I yield. Those rascals played me well. You can handle the cooking, girl."

  "Elsyn, not girl. My name's Elsyn," she spoke while removing the meat from the fire.

  "It is!?" The younger sibling exclaimed in shock.

  Why's she shocked? Corvus thought.

  "Yes, 'squeak—it is. And your name is Applea, Mum thought of it."

  "It is?" Corvus asked in surprise.

  "Don't look at me, I didn't pick it," Elsyn emphasized.

  "I love it!" The younger sibling, Applea, cheered.

  Shaking Corvus, Applea said, "Hey, Corvus, can you guess why Maa named me Applea?"

  "Because... You like... Apples, perhaps?"

  "Yes! Apples and everything made of them. How'd you guess?"

  "It just struck me somehow," Corvus replied, scratching his head.

  "Sis, who told you?"

  "I found mum's letter inside one of the pouches yesterday; I didn't get the chance to tell you till now, sorry."

  "It's alright. Can I see the letter?" Applea extended her hand to receive the letter.

  Elsyn removed a page from her clothes and placed it in Applea's palm: "Of course, Applea... Lea."

  Yes, Lea—that sounds much better. Elsyn thought, salvaging a name that met her standards.

  Applea—Lea—engrossed herself in her mother's letter while taking small bites of the meat.

  "Elsyn, huh. Nice name," Corvus complimented her.

  "Thanks," Elsyn replied.

  Placing a finger on his chin, Corvus thoughtfully spoke, "Speaking of names, I had named my weapon Kharos."

  Elsyn, taking a few bites of the meat, asked, "Kharos? Why? What does it mean?"

  He deliberately deepened his voice and explained at a slow pace to try to build tension, "Kharos... the name's inspired from the daemon... Charon... The ferryman of the dead in the underworld..."

  Elsyn suddenly burst out in laughter, spitting some of the meat on Corvus' face, before covering her face with a hand.

  Corvus's face, meanwhile, was one of dismay. He had expected to garner praise for his mystic voice and naming sense, because that was how his comrades had always reacted. But the uncontrollable laughter of his audience in front of him, had shattered his illusion—as also his confidence.

  What else have I been lied about?

  Their exchange continued for a while longer under the benign flames. For the first time, the fire did not just warm their bodies; it made them feel alive.