Asavari Bhattacharya

Abstract Romance Others

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Asavari Bhattacharya

Abstract Romance Others

Ballad of the Forgotten: Chapter 5: Part 1:

Ballad of the Forgotten: Chapter 5: Part 1:

4 mins
281


His feet, which were almost entirely smooth for the larger part of his life, began to roughen at the edges after he began to try to walk. After a long day, he liked to sit and rub the edges of his feet, feeling the small changes in them; a rough spot here and there, the calluses forming the most under his big toes and the curve of his heel.

Since they had few things to pack, it didn't take them long to move out of that barn. Most of their things were borrowed. The Storyteller didn't have a specific job; instead, she travelled around, doing odd jobs and earning her keep. She was skilled at a lot of things, and because she did the jobs so well, most people paid her more, or let her borrow essentials.

If it was not for him, she would have continued to wander around, and also have a good portion of saved money. But caring for him had cost her a lot of money, and she had to sell the horse she rode to go to places. So they started their journey early in the morning, walking.

"When did you decide to come here?" he asked her. They were carrying most of the things they'd borrowed, going to different places to return them.

"A year ago."

"Why did you decide to come here?"

She was carrying the quilts and the hard pillows under her arms. Despite his protests, she had tied them in one big roll and tied the ropes together, carrying them like a bag. "I heard this place was nice. I got stabbed and needed a place to heal."

"Wh-who stabbed you?" he sputtered. 

"Some punks. It happened in the kingdom next to yours. They were trying to steal from me, but we got into a fight. I threw them in the nearest correctional and got treated", she adjusted the ropes to spread them out more, "it was a nice place, but I just didn't get better. Then I heard it was better here, so I rode and came here."

She glanced at him, smiling lopsidedly, "Don't worry, it wasn't deep."

He walked reflectively, looking down at the uneven ground underneath his feet. The soil was red and clumpy, and there was a wild, heady smell in it. He often saw her feet caked in red after a plentiful rain.

"Why did you do it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You went through so much trouble to save me. You could have just dumped me into some correctional or healing center. But you carried me. You broke your back to look after me. You sold your horse." He glanced at her, "you didn't even know who I was."

She stopped and so did he. She looked into his eyes searchingly and he liked it so much when she did that. It was like mere words, simple and chaste, weren't enough to satiate whatever incessant stream of questions she had going on. She needed to look deeper.

"At first I didn't. And I was going to get you admitted. But then I heard people talking. It was terrible hearing those things. Apparently, you did a lot of things, so you were wanted. So I didn't."

"You didn't believe them?" He was leaning on one crutch, studying the little granules of dirt scattered about. 

He felt her hand cup his face. His heart leaped and he felt a tremor go through his body. He struggled to look into her eyes.

Again that searching gaze. But this time, she wasn't looking for anything. She was looking at him, and her gaze calmed him down. She was, he realised, trying to save him again.

"No," she said quietly, "I didn't believe them. I have seen filth in human beings. I have seen how far human evil can go." The words frightened him, but he didn't look away.

"You didn't look like what I have seen. When I found you, you looked at me like you wanted to be saved, but didn't know how. You didn't look evil. You looked like someone who didn't know what their purpose was."

He didn't know how to react. He was still, feeling the heat of her palms burn into his cheeks. His heart was still, while his eyes focused themselves on hers. 

Very gently, he placed his hand over hers, stroking the skin of her fingers. "Where have you been all this time?"

He saw something pass. At least he thought he did because the look in her eyes didn't change. She looked down silently, her hand still cupping his face. Then suddenly she let go. 

"I think we should leave."

So they started walking again, but he kept feeling the warmth of her palm on his face.


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