12. Aurelio
Ihave to admit; I didn’t see that kiss coming. It’s the highlight of my week. I’ve fallen even further for her, and I have no plans to stop. She made me feel like a hero even when she was the one that blocked the initial attack, the one that could have ended us both. I’ve been riding on that high the entire week. Daelia’s been in a good mood, too. She got to take out four total wendigos on the way to Krasta, a series of battles that “finally worked up a sweat after those boring missions.”
I thought facing off against one wendigo was terrifying, but to each their own, I guess. I’m just glad Alessia didn’t get hurt.
After a week of watching Alessia avoid me, chat for hours with her sister, fall asleep in my arms, and wake up totally embarrassed, only to repeat the cycle all over again, I’m almost glad to have arrived in Krasta’s territory. Maybe here I’ll finally get a break from my indecisive, overly emotional wife long enough to read a good book.
But seeing the state of the village in front of me?
I highly doubt this will be a fun visit.
“…We’re in Krasta, right?” Alessia asks.
“Yes, we crossed into their territory yesterday morning,” Daelia confirms.
“Then what the hells happened here?”
I would like to ask the same question myself. This is only a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom, so it’s natural for it to be a poorer community, but it should at least have flourishing farmland surrounding the village. That’s how all the kingdoms on this side of the world are set up: farmland villages on the outskirts, and an enormous, highly populated capital in the center. The wealth should make it back to the farmers even if the technology never reaches them; they have to have funds to grow the kingdom’s food supply, after all.
But this village looks on the brink of collapse.
The village is only a few dirt paths with a collection of dilapidated, weathered, and damaged one-bedroom homes lining both sides. I spot multiple collapsed roofs, broken windows, doors hanging off hinges, sinking foundations, and rotting wooden siding. Weeds and plain grasses have taken over the area beyond the village that was once farmland. Broken farming equipment is scattered across the land, and within the village, I only see rickety old carts and wheelbarrows turned on their sides, their contents damaged or shattered. The traditional farm working animals, such as horses, oxen, and donkeys, are nowhere to be seen. There’s only a skinny flock of chickens roaming about the village and a couple of stray cats that have seen better days.
The villagers don’t look much better; children run around with mud-smeared faces, and adults sit and murmur darkly together on the front porches that remain intact. Their garments are either falling apart or patchworks of multiple brown and white cloth materials; none of them wear anything even remotely close to the traditional work clothing of outdoor laborers from Celestia. I see almost no elderly folks in the village, and those that I pick out from a distance appear sickly. Disease probably wiped them out prematurely, I gather.
Alessia dismounts from her horse, leading him into the village ahead of us. I exchange a look with Daelia, and the both of us dismount to tail closely behind. I watch the villagers as we enter the village, monitoring their curious gazes for any sign of defensive aggression. The children stop playing their games of tag to stare at us with wide eyes, and the adults look at us with dark, unreadable expressions.
“Where is your village leader?” Alessia calls. Her voice echoes in the empty space between houses.
“Who is asking?”
My head snaps to my left, down a side street that connects two of the main village pathways. Out of the shadow of an abandoned home emerges an older woman. Her hair is graying, but it still contains streaks of deep brown. Her sturdy stature tells me she is a lifelong farmworker, but the pallidness of her skin also tells me it’s been a long time since she’s had a proper meal. Her cheekbones are more prominent than is natural, and her eyes are slightly sunken into her head, casting shadows over her prematurely wrinkled face.
The stress of leading this village must be insane,I note to myself.
“My name is Queen Alessia Moonbreaker of the Holy Kingdom of Celestia,” Alessia replies. “I am here to introduce myself to our allied kingdoms, and to establish good relations during my reign over Celestia.”
The woman’s eyes fly wide. My hand instinctively moves to my dagger as she runs to Alessia, throwing herself at her feet.
“Oh, thank the gods! Heaven must have known your coronation was near. Our prayers are answered!”
My gut churns with guilt as I drop my hand back at my side. I should have known this woman posed no threat to Alessia; she’s the aging leader of a small starving village, forgotten on the outskirts of her kingdom. She’s looking for help, not violence. All the money, magic crystals, and food we have wouldn’t solve their problems long enough to be a solution. I nod to Daelia, and she relaxes her stance as well.
“What happened here?” Alessia asks. “I sent word to your rulers weeks ago, but I heard nothing back, and now I happen upon your village in this state. This is very unlike the Krasta I was told about in my youth.”
The woman stands up, taking Alessia’s hands in her own. A few tears run down her face as she smiles joyously at her savior.
“It has been a pitiful time for our nation these last few years. The terminal medical diagnosis of their only heir has devastated our royal family. Their son is only eighteen years old. For the last three years, the royals have been in upheaval about whom to appoint as their successor. The family lines of our aristocrats have been infighting for months, and a civil war broke out in the capital city. The fighting has gone on for over a year now. No one faction is winning over another, and our merchants are dying in the crossfire. If we don”t find a way to sell our goods, our village is doomed to die, and the capital city will starve along with us.”
“Do you not have a military? Where are they in all of this?” Alessia demands.
“We were such a peaceful nation for so long, and with so little money, it made no sense to build a large military. We only had as many guards as could protect the royal family itself. The security forces in the capital city are overwhelmed as they try to quell the violence and protect the last of the royal line.”
Alessia balls her hands into fists. If I’d been standing next to her, I would take a step back right about now. Her face contorts into the deadliest of cold frowns.
“I see. Your royals have failed you. What is your name?”
“Ophelia,” the woman replies, bowing her head respectfully.
“Ophelia, meet my eyes,” Alessia commands.
I watch as Ophelia trembles before Alessia, her weakened body clearly on the verge of giving out. Alessia reaches out to gently hold her by the shoulders, her eyes flashing dangerously.
“I swear upon my honor, as the leader of my nation, that I will not let your village or anyone in Krasta starve the way your leaders have. This is an unjust reaction to a petty problem that has had devastating effects on your people. As the leader of your allied nation, I will provide you with the means necessary to reclaim your health, stability, and security, even if your rulers stand in my way.”
Ophelia’s lip trembles as she clasps her hands together, chanting, “Thank you! Thank you, Queen of Celestia! May the gods bless your holy path!”
“There is no need to thank me. Bring me your sick and your weary,” Alessia commands.
Ophelia runs off, shouting for a couple of women in the village. Alessia gestures for Daelia and me to join her, and we return to her side. I’m not going to lie; seeing Alessia so openly passionate in public for the first time has me feeling things I never thought I’d feel for a woman. Her voice has deepened ever so slightly, and the electricity crackling in her eyes rivals that of lightning. If she saw the ruler of Krasta now, she’d strike them dead before they could blink. She holds her shoulders back and her head high, staring into the oblivion Krasta’s rulers have created.
“This is pathetic. The people should have their rulers executed for this,” Alessia growls. “This is treason of the highest degree. Rulers have a duty to serve their people. This is selfish beyond measure.”
“The Holy Mother would be trembling with righteous fury,” Daelia agrees, her face darkening. “This is madness. Even the gods may shake their fists from the heavens at such asinine behavior.”
I have no room to talk on this matter, seeing as I did not grow up royal, but even I find my gut curdling in disgust at the sight of royal neglect. I may not have chosen the path of royalty, and I may not desire to lead an entire nation, but I would never stoop so low as to prioritize my own petty problems over the suffering of my own citizens. It doesn’t take much effort to make a choice, sideline personal problems, and prioritize the well-being of the citizens. A simple vote would have taken care of Krasta’s problems, or a random drawing, even.
Instead, I’m seeing children withering away before my very eyes. It’s worse than disgusting.
Ophelia comes running with a small group of women behind her. Most of them carry a young child in their arms, and a couple of them are carrying seriously ill adults on makeshift stretchers. The sick and injured that can still carry themselves trudge along behind them, their movements so fatigued and unsteady that I have a miniature heart attack every time one of them sways.
Sure enough, a woman missteps only a few feet away from us, and I’m diving to catch her before I can blink. I’m horrified to feel how light she is in my arms; she’s taller than Alessia. She should at least pose a challenge to carry, but having her draped over my arms feels no more strenuous than carrying a stack of laundry.
“Thank you,” the woman rasps.
Her cheekbones are so prominent, and her shoulders so bony, I could mistake her for an animated corpse. Her skin is even grayer than the wendigos’. Her eyes flutter closed only moments after she speaks, and I have to look at the rise and fall of her chest to remind myself she didn’t just die in my arms.
“Alessia…we need to call in aid. Right away,” I say.
“I know. Our visit won’t be nearly as long as planned,” she says, her face stone cold. “We will be returning to ask the aid of the Holy Mother as soon as possible.”
“I have no doubt she will help us,” Daelia says, her face a little pale as she sets down an unconscious eight-year-old. “The gods have not forsaken this place yet, even if the rulers have. We will bring them the nourishment they need to recover, as well as the supplies they need to farm again.”
“Do we have any laborers we can spare?” I ask.
“Unfortunately, all ours are busy on important city projects, and I’m not the type of ruler to enslave monsters to use as laborers,” Alessia says.
“You can use the knights, then.”
Alessia and Daelia look at me in surprise. “The knights?”
“Yes, the knights. You can send them in as armed guards for the missionaries and temporary laborers to get the farms started,” I propose, my heart beating faster and faster in my chest. “I know Kharu and Emilia, two of the most prominent knights in the country. They would be glad to serve the Kingdom of Krasta in their rehabilitation efforts.”
Alessia regards me curiously, some of the warmth returning to her expression. The corners of her mouth twitch upward as she says, “Look who’s finally decided to participate in royal decision making. I didn’t know you were a passionate humanitarian, Aurelio.”
Humanitarian?!
I splutter, feeling as though I’ve been punched. My fake cough falls flat as I try to cover up my reaction.
“I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I just heard that Kharu and Emilia have been bored lately, that’s all. It’s not like I’m making any suggestions you wouldn’t think of yourself.”
“I wouldn’t have thought to use knights as laborers in a million years.”
I blanch. “Oh—well—now you would. Carry on.”
Feeling as though I may explode from embarrassment, I keep my head down and continue helping the sick and the injured.
What was that? Why do I care so much?
I don’t know what this feeling is, but it’s something entirely unfamiliar to me, and it’s powerful. I swing like a pendulum between passion and devastation as I continue to lie out the ailed villagers. For a moment, I fear I may cry looking at the face of a toddler that’s suffering from severe malnourishment. Then, I’m swept away by a sea of anger staring at a teenage boy who’s running such a high fever. He’s sweating buckets in the shade.
Is this how Alessia feels all the time? How the hells does she hide this crap?
I shake my head. Being with Alessia and seeing her express herself more freely is reminding me just how out of touch I am with myself. Apparently, there’s an emotional train wreck underneath all this intellectual apathy, and I didn’t even know it.
Just what are you going to teach me about myself next, Alessia?I wonder, watching her get to work healing the first villager.
I can’t know what else she’ll teach me, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little excited to learn.