Reborn From the Cosmos
Arc 8-48

True to her word, the snow bunny is fast with her business, exiting the dirt shelter in minutes, Earl proceeding her out of the door while Alana trails behind her, two large woven baskets on her arms. Which is a good thing as the natives are getting restless. 

The crowd has been growing, people trickling in as the news of our presence spreads. They bring discontent, the individual grudges seeking and feeding off each other. The leash woven from the bountiful evidence that acting on their aggressive wishes will lead to nothing but ruin keeps them in check but it’s only a matter of time before it snaps. Maybe ten people won’t try their luck. Maybe not even a hundred. But a thousand? Numbers like that could make a mouse brave, let alone a husband ready to avenge his wife or a mother grieving a lost child.

Thankfully, our business is finished long before the mob can swell to a significant number. The refugees don’t follow and it doesn’t take long to leave their malicious whispers behind. I slow down to walk beside Alana, lifting the edge of a basket’s cover. A perfumed scent tickles my nose, a gentle waft of a sweet-smelling herb. “Soaps?”

“Yeah,” Alana answers absently. “There’s a woman here who knows how to do it. Yulia’s been bringing her tools and ingredients for weeks. Convinced her to make this extra large batch of the stuff.”

“And she plans to…”

“Give it to someone.”

I ask for more details but my knight doesn’t have them and the snow bunny hides them behind an amused smile. We travel to the edge of the camp. There is barely any space between the closest shelters and the wall. Someone decided to change that. At the center of the row of houses, someone altered the barrier, pushing it out to make a square. 

Dotting it are a half dozen wooden tubs, separated by sheets hung between tall sticks. Three long tables sit against the three sides of the square, brushes arranged atop them while buckets are arranged beneath. In a corner, three young women are seated on short stools around a basin, a bucket of used brushes by their feet.

A washing…space? Station? A solution, I suppose.

A strangely well-dressed man is soon approaching us. His tailored pants and crisp shirt show no signs of hardship and his blonde hair is combed back over his broad forehead, the golden strands practically gleaming as brightly as his white smile. Saints, did some great power snatch him from the capital? His appearance fits the prosperous city much better than a slum.

“If isn’t the lovely Lady James.” I raise a brow at his familiarity as he walks right up to Yulia and takes her hand, raising it to his lips to drop a kiss on the back. “Are those wonderfully fragrant baskets for me?”

Yulia playfully hits his shoulder, an action almost as shocking as his. Since when is the reserved beauty so forward? Is it because he is? I swear, she’s like a bird, able to shift her wings to catch any wind.

“Don’t be greedy, Klein. Just one.” She motions and Alana hands over one of her burdens. The well-dressed man takes it almost gleefully, smiling at the slightly ragged cover as if cradling his firstborn. “As promised, enough soap to make your waterholes proper baths.”

He raises a corner of the cover to stick his nose into the basket, taking a deep breath before letting out a pleased sigh. “Oh, I’ve missed the smell of something other than stale piss. I and everyone else in this pit thank you, even if most of them won’t know the name of their benefactor.”

“I don’t need the recognition.” Those of us who hear Alana’s scoff ignore it. “But you should have something for me, hm?”

“Of course, my dear. Though it’s quite heavy.” He eyes Alana speculatively. “Too heavy for me to ask a woman to bear it with good conscience.”

“Then do it with a bad conscience,” my knight snarks, not at all amused at being underestimated, though I’m sure the gentleman thinks it’s courtesy.

Kierra steps forward before his good intentions can cause real offense. Her light brown garment does a lot to soften her predatory nature but rolling up the sleeves dispels the illusion. She smiles with more teeth than necessary as his eyes snap to her toned arms.

“I believe I will be able to handle it.”

“...indeed. Right this way then.”

He leads her to the farthest table, setting the basket on its edge before walking around it. Hidden behind the row of buckets is a wooden chest. To his credit, Yulia’s friend didn’t overstate the weight. He seems reasonably fit and I can see the strain in his features as he lifts it. As well as his confusion when Kierra takes it from him with ease. It’d be funny if it weren’t entirely expected.

“On to the next!” Yulia says happily as my wife returns with the bounty.

And so we go.

Our next stop is to an older couple. I catch a glimpse of them through a window, as Yulia once again asks me to remain outside. Alana swaps burdens with Kierra, the snow bunny grabs a few hunks of rough soap from inside the basket, and the two of them disappear into the building. 

They don’t come out with a new container but Yulia brushes off my curiosity, taking us to the next shelter. She asks for Earl to accompany her and Alana and they exit with the steward carrying two small barrels on his shoulders that smell of drink.

The next shelter we visit is not a residence. It might have been once but it’s been remade into a bar of all things. A very lacking one, but that’s where my steward comes in. Yulia is greeted at the counter by a bear of a man who accepts the barrels with a cheer that invigorates his lounging patrons. The snow bunny motions for Alana to follow her deeper into the building with the soaps. When they return, Yulia is carrying the basket, a third of its holdings depleted, while Alana carries a large barrel of metal tools.

On and on it goes. The tools go to those who can use them in exchange for goods. Blankets, shoes, rope, and even a wagon. Sometimes, she made deals for services. But with each conversation, she does something to improve the camp. 

It would be easy to dismiss her efforts; a bath doesn’t do much to help someone who's lost everything they’ve ever owned. But I know the power of comfort. A goodnight’s sleep wrapped in extra covers. A drink with friends. A hot bath. All these things can take someone out of the pain. For a moment, they can forget their circumstances and remember a better time. They can feel good. And once they have a taste of escape, maybe, just maybe, they’ll find it in themselves to reach for it again. To fight to feel normal.

It’s heartening, watching the power of community. I’m damn proud of Yulia for making it happen and embarrassed to think about how I underestimated her when she said she’d spent weeks connecting people, equating it to some kind of social club for those wanting to pretend everything was fine. She’s good and she’s good for them. It makes me wonder what she could do with more time. I bet she could wrap the new Quest around her delicate fingers. The thought is almost enough for me to extend my hospitality.

Almost.

The snow bunny sets a rapid pace until well into the afternoon, talking to dozens of people and moving goods. By the end of it, she’s flush with effort but glowing from her successes. She smiles wistfully at the nearest shelter, where a group of children are throwing around their new ball. “That’s it. I wish I could do more but they can take it from here…”

Even Alana is moved by her sister’s efforts. She doesn’t hesitate to squeeze Yulia’s shoulder. “You’ve showed them the way. They can handle the rest.”

“You’re right.” Yulia pats Alana’s hand and turns to me. “Thank you for this, Lou. I realize I might have taken advantage of your generosity. I apologize for that, truly. They’ll never know it, but anyone who thanks me for my small role is also thanking you. I couldn’t have been open with these people the way I needed without knowing you and your clan was there to keep me safe.”

She’s really laying it on thick, huh? I might be embarrassed to feel the heat in my face if I thought she could see it. “Yeah, well, you’re family and you’re doing a good thing. That’s something I’m…glad to be a part of.” I clear my throat, avoiding her soft smile. “It’s time we wrapped this up. Let’s see about this field quickly and get back. I want you on the road north before it gets too late.”

Kierra hums. “Do you think it is a problem that Alyssa’s little runner has not returned?”

“A large one,” Talia remarks. She’s been a quiet observer for the day, so her voice catches everyone’s attention. “He went to secure permissions for us. If he hasn’t returned, we can assume you aren’t welcome.”

“Then why haven’t they told us?” Alana asks.

“Would you like to tell the group responsible for so much death and destruction no?”

My knight grunts in understanding. I turn to Kierra. “You really want to see this field?”

She waves in dismissal. “I thought it would be interesting to examine Father’s work but it was a, hm. A fancy? Not so important to cause trouble over.”

“Alright, then let’s get—” My words are interrupted by a sound. Rather, several sounds overlapping. Marching. I turn my head and sigh as I see three men in gleaming armor approaching, followed by a group of acolytes. Oh, not just acolytes. I can see Alyssa’s distinctive scarlet hair at the front of the group. After dropping a ‘film’, details sharpen, and I can see the scowl on her face too. Surprisingly, it’s not directed at us, but at the knights in front of her.

Royal knights.

…should we just run away from whatever this is?

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