Chapter 29 – The Great Plains of Boredom / A Story’s End

Chapter 29

 The Great Plains of Boredom / A Story’s End

            The rest of the day passed uneventfully after the attack and due to a lack of towns or villages nearby, we actually had to make camp for the evening though in the case of me and my mother, it could hardly be considered as roughing it.  The two largest carriages in our caravan, which included the one we have been riding in, apparently could be converted into makeshift sleeping quarters.  I had initially wondered why we had an extra carriage that was kept empty and, while not quite as large as the one we had been riding in, it was still quite spacious on the inside. 

            The rest of the plains that we had passed through during the remainder of our travels on this day were even more nondescript than what we had passed through this morning, with the farmland giving way to flat grasslands without any trees in sight.  There were the occasional shrubs, but that was it.  Everything was just… flat.  Honestly, a part of me felt that it defied reason that the land could be so flat.  Maybe this is what the Midwest of the US looks like, but I have never been there so I wouldn’t know.  

            Once the few servants who had come with us, as well as the guards, got the camp set up, the smell of cooking fills the air while my parents and I sit in some rather comfortable collapsible chairs as the sun descends beyond the horizon.  As the dark of night sets in, lanterns are lit at various places around the camp, illuminating the area cheerfully.   I consider making a small light so that I can continue reading, which is how I had spent most of my time this afternoon, aside from when I got slightly motion sick and had to take a break to stare out the window.  I am almost done with my mother’s book and will likely finish it tonight if I indulge my urge to make a reading light.  As fast as I thought about making a light to read by, I remember that not all the guards and servants that are with us know about my second affinity, so I dismiss the thought. 

            All those servants know is that after my accident, a lock of my hair changed to a golden blond for an unknown reason.  According to Mary, the rumor among most of the staff is that I had experienced such a shock that it caused the change.  When I reminded her that that is supposed to result in white hair, not golden, she just shrugged, saying that people will make up the wildest rumors to explain things that they don’t understand and that I should just be glad that they haven't decided that it is the result of some curse.  

            Plus, if I really feel the need to finish the book tonight, I can just wait until I settle into my sleeping quarters for the night, or I can sit closer to a lantern, though they aren’t as bright as I would prefer for reading.

            Our meal, a thick stew with beef and a variety of vegetables, is served to us shortly after the sun has fully set and, while not as grand as what I have come to expect when we are staying in a more civilized location, it is still delicious and filling.  It also warms my heart to know that this stew isn’t just feeding the three of us as enough was made to feed everyone in the camp.  I know this may sound odd to some, but I personally don’t like the idea of being fed significantly better food while the people who work for us have to settle for lower quality meals made out of the food left over once my parents and I have had our fill.  When Mary informed me that this practice was normal for any servants of the nobility in Elgoss, I had started eating less, thinking that it would allow the servants to eat better.  My mother had noticed and one day asked me about it.  As a result, while the meals of the staff in Braemar Keep still happen after we have finished our meal, the cooks make enough for everyone instead of making additional dishes with the leftovers, something that Mary has assured me has improved the already high morale amongst the staff.

            Here on the road, we all eat at the same time, though I have noticed that sometimes the servants still eat from different food stocks than we do, like they had at lunch the previous day. 

            I need to remember to ask Mary about that considering the changes that have been made at home regarding meals and meal preparation.

            With supper finished, I yawn, feeling weary from the events of the day, and excuse myself, heading to my sleeping quarters to turn in for the night.

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            I wake the following morning to knocking on the side of the carriage, with a dull ache in my right shoulder and the entire arm numb down to the fingertips.  Apparently, I have been lying on it in my sleep and with the harder than average bedding, that is a recipe for restricted blood flow. 

            “Gimme a moment,” I murmur from a dry throat; I guess I was sleeping with my mouth open as well.

            The knocking occurs again and this time I hear Mary’s voice call out.

            “My Lady, I’m coming in,” the door opens and Mary steps in swiftly, closing it behind her. “My Lady, it is time to wake and make yourself presenta-“ 

            She pauses mid word as she turns around and sees me in what I imagine is a rather disheveled and undignified state.  Her widened eyes latch onto me as she starts to reach out to me, before pausing and retracting her hand.

            “Do you need assistance, Lady Beira?” she asks, and I grunt a coarse confirmation because I now know how difficult not having control of one arm can make sitting up on the narrow bed.

            Mary helps me into a sitting position and it doesn’t take long for circulation to start to flow in my poor limb.

            “T-thank you, Mary,” I say gratefully as I move my right arm and flex my fingers in an effort to restore circulation faster.

            “It’s my pleasure, My Lady,”  she says with a smile.  “When you are ready, shall we make you presentable for the day?”

            She gestures behind herself and that is when I notice that she has brought an entire outfit, which is now hanging on the wall, for me to change into.

            When did she even have time to put that there?

            I shake my head to clear the fog of sleep and decide that would be a mystery best left for another day.

            I yawn again and rub my sleep-encrusted eyes before nodding to Mary that I am ready to get ready.  While the tight quarters of the carriage are a little bigger than the room at the Inn we had stayed at the previous night, getting dressed is still a cramped affair, but somehow, we manage.  After getting dressed I sit at an angle so that Mary can get behind me to brush my hair.  Once it is brushed, she asks if I have a preference for how it is styled today and I tell her to just put it in simple braids.  When I leave the sleeper carriage to join everyone for breakfast, my hair is in twin braids. 

            Looking around, I notice that it is still dark and there isn’t even a hint of sunrise on the horizon.  Finding my parents, I make my way to them where they sit at the small table which is already set with a third place, as if it is anticipating my imminent arrival.  Already, two still steaming sunny-side-up eggs, toast, and crispy bacon that is still warm to the touch are waiting for me.  I greet my parents and sit, beginning my meal while my parents finish up theirs.

            “Why the earlier start this morning, Daddy?”  I ask, though I suspect I know the answer.

            “With the delay due to the attack yesterday, I am hoping to make up for some lost time,” my father explains.  “I would have had us continue on later than we did last night but everyone was exhausted and it is better to get a good rest instead of pushing yourself beyond exhaustion.”

            “Okay,” I say as I sop up some of the runny yoke that had leaked out of one of the eggs.  Personally, I used to never have a taste for eggs sunny-side-up, preferring them over-hard or scrambled, but since taking the place of the original Beira, I have found that my tastes in food have expanded to match her more closely, which makes sense.  Luckily, it seems that her body also seems to have adapted to some of my old personal preferences as well, particularly towards spicy foods, the first experience of which would have convinced me of otherwise, had it not been for my period rearing its ugly head and showing me that the food was not at fault.  Apparently, my father likes spicy food as well, so he was more than happy to grant my request that the occasional spicy dish be added to the menu at the keep.  My mother, as best as I can tell, is neither averse nor favorable to spicy food, so she is ok with the occasional capsaicin-laden dish as long as the spice doesn't kill the flavor.

            With our meal done, camp is broken down and we are soon on our way, with the sky only showing the faintest of hints that the sun is indeed on its way. 

            As the sky brightens and the landscape around us is once again visible, I am disappointed to see that it is still nothing but super flat grasslands all around.  I ask my father how much longer we will be stuck in this extremely boring landscape, afraid that it will last until we arrive at the capital city.

            “We should be able to see the plateau that holds the royal capital by the time we stop for the evening, lass,” he answers with a laugh.  “I know this area is rather plain, ha.”

            Both my mother and I stare at him, with what I imagine is the same look, judging him for the dad joke and he just waves a hand to dismiss the two of us.  He is lucky I’m not actively booing him.

            The day passes uneventfully and by lunch I finish reading ‘Taken by the Dragon King’.  After eating, I consider having Mary grab me another one of the books that I have brought with me, but I decide against it for now because I usually like to sit with a story for a little bit upon finishing it.  I can always get another book when we stop for the evening, if I am ready to move on to another tale by then. 

            As for the conclusion of ‘Taken by the Dragon’, in the end, Sasha was murdered in a plot by her own nation to re-spark the war, which had stalled between the two nations due to Sasha and Scorsha’s relationship.  By that point, Scorsha was king of her nation and the death of the woman she had planned to take as her queen, drove her to madness, leading to the slaughter of the entire nobility and royal family of the Beastmen’s nation at her own hands.  Her anger sated, Scorsha fell into a deep depression, but spared the citizens of the Beastmen’s nation, granting them full citizenship within the Dragon nation.  For hundreds of years, the Dragon nation prospered under Scorsha’s rule until one day, she met a familiar looking young fox priestess who had been attacked by bandits and left for dead.  The priestess, whose name was Alanna, had been traveling to the church in the Dragon capital city when she was attacked.  By some twist of fate, Scorsha was also on that road with her royal entourage after having gone to inspect a newly completed cathedral that she had ordered to be built on the site where she had first met Sasha.  The priestess, it turned out, was the reincarnation of Sasha and, upon meeting Scorsha in person, began to regain the memories of her past life.  Scorsha, realizing this was her lover reborn, watched over her as she grew into adulthood and, once she was old enough, Scorsha confessed her feelings to Alanna.  Alanna, who had been hiding that she knew what her identity was, confessed to Scorsha that she remembered everything.  The two of them got married and led their nations to thousands of years of prosperity.

            After lunch, we continue on our way, heading further south.  As the day drags on, I begin to regret my decision not to grab another book, but my choice was made so I must live by it.  As the sun starts to dip dangerously low in the west, the fields of crops return as well as the occasional copse of trees and farmhouses. 

            Eventually, seeing that the sun has almost set, I ask my father when we plan on stopping, and he mentions that we should be getting close to an inn, which is where we plan to stop for the night.