Catriddle || Variable one

The village of Catriddle with its population of roughly ten hundred inhabitants, lay at the side of the mountain, not far away from the metropolis of Swanmaze. Most people living in the village were either miners or goatherds, while other professions, although present, weren’t prevalent.

Kapok Charascal Motooi Sky, a man with short unruly red hair, was a merchant, who specialized in weapons. With one glance, he could tell apart high-quality swords from cheap knock-offs.

He travelled around the world, selling weapons made by the smiths from Catriddle, who were known for their skills. Those weapons sold at a hefty price, allowing Kapok to return home with unique items, which couldn’t be bought anywhere in the small village.

Other than being a talented merchant, Kapok was also a skilled swordman. Surely not as skilled as the best swordmen in the world, but in Catriddle he was certainly known as the best fighter. His money-making abilities combined with his fighting skills made him a very respected man among all the villagers.

In comparison, his wife didn’t stand out as much, and she could be easily mistaken for a typical housewife.

Nettle Lauae Adacayi Rainbow of Sky usually wore only plain clothes, with no jewelry or make-up, as she had no need for them to do housework. Her straight black hair, evenly cut around her neck and neatly combed, depicted perfectly her organized personality. She always kept the house in order, and nothing could ever be out of its place, neither objects nor people.

This stern personality and style of hers drastically contrasted with her innate facial features. Her big round downturned eyes had a mesmerizing gleam in them, which charmed men even at a distance. And her lips naturally smiled in that mysterious feminine way, as if she had a secret, which nobody knew of.

Yet, neither her personality nor her appearance could reveal or hint at her life record.

Nettle was a graduate of Athena - the school most famous for the extensive knowledge and wisdom of its teachers and students. In addition, she was a renowned book conservator, capable of repairing even the most torn-apart and brittle volumes, or texts which had been heavily damaged by water or fire.

Everyone in Catriddle knew that Nettle used to work for the Imperial Court, but after marrying Kapok, she abandoned her luxurious lifestyle, and chose to live together with her beloved husband in this modest village.

Their home was built on top of Kapok’s workroom, with the staircase on the right, leading up to the porch connected to the balcony. The handrails encompassing the staircase and the balcony were adorned with dozens of pots of flowering plants, which Nettle took care of all year round.

The wooden front door, which was custom-made by a local carpenter at Kapok’s request, was thick and heavy in order to effectively keep the cold weather out of the house. Along with tightly packed walls, the house was a warm piece of heaven for the whole family, especially during the coldest darkest days of the year.

On the second day of Dees in the year fifty-seven-hundred ninety-nine near midday, a carriage led by two black horses with white spots, arrived in front of Kapok’s house.

The driver stood up from his seat, stepped down onto the ground, approached the side door and opened it. With a gentle bow of his head, he offered his hand toward the gal sitting inside in order to help her dismount.

She took the driver’s hand and descended from the carriage. Once her feet were on the ground, the driver let go of her hand. He pulled out two big suitcases, and followed her as she began climbing the staircase.

Hyssop Virraca Goya Sky was an intelligent and beautiful maiden, who looked a lot like her mother. She kept her long black wavy hair tied in a high ponytail, and wore earrings, which only added to her natural beauty.

She was already fourteen yrold, and just like her mother, she attended the prestigious school of Athena, where annually she ranked among the top ten students of her year.

On the day of her return, she wore a long-sleeved light-blue blouse with an ornate lace around her neck, a straw hat decorated with a navy-blue flower, a long brown skirt and stringed sandals with a short thick heel.

At the top of the staircase, Hyssop turned to the driver. "Thank you, sir. Just put them down here," she pointed at the wall adjacent to the front door.

The carriage driver did as told, wished her a good day and left.

Hyssop let the suitcases lie on the porch, as she opened the front door and entered the house.

The front door led to the entry room, as was always the custom with -all homes. Every entry room had two doors. The front door, which was also called the exterior door, led outdoors, while the interior door, sometimes called the main door, led into the main living areas of the house.

In the entry room, Hyssop changed her shoes. She put her sandals on a shelfcase among other outdoor shoes, and wore a pair of cozy slippers instead, before she opened the interior door and walked into the living room.

As soon as she closed the main door, she turned right and entered the kitchen through a beaded curtain, which was used instead of a door. There, sitting by the table, she found her mother, who was so immersed in reading that she didn’t hear her daughter entering the house.

"Mama?"

Nettle raised up her head, and smiled as soon as she realized who was calling out to her.

"Hyssop," she got up and went to embrace her daughter, who returned the hug. "I’m so glad, you’re back."

"Me too, mama," Hyssop said. When Nettle finally let go of Hyssop, the gal asked, "Where’s Yew?"

"Oh," Nettle looked around.

Hyssop chuckled. "I bet he forgot that I’m coming back today."

"Let me check," Nettle said and stepped out from the kitchen.

She passed through the living room and down the hallway toward her son’s bedroom. She opened the door, but she didn’t find anyone inside.

Hyssop approached her mother and waved her hand, dismissing the problem. "He’ll be back soon enough," she said. "Do you need help making lunch?"

"Of course," her mother responded. "Change clothes and come to the kitchen, when you’re ready."

"Okay, and…" Hyssop suddenly recalled something. "I left my suitcases on the porch."

"You should have said so earlier," her mother responded and the two of them went to retrieve the luggage together.

They carried one suitcase each directly to Hyssop’s bedroom, where they had to stop for a quick breather since neither one of the suitcases was lighweit.

At the same time, completely unaware of what was happening at home, Yew Chirabilva Araukaria Sky, a ten yrold boy, was play-catching fishes in shallow waters of the nearby river, which ran east of the village.

Just like Hyssop, Yew looked more like his mother than his father. He had long straight black hair, which he kept tied behind his neck in a thin ponytail. Four years ago, he had seen an image of an ancient warrior with this precise hairstyle in a history book, and he adamantly refused to cut his hair ever since.

He was playing together with his best friend, Mpingo Gilja Bilimbi Forest – a boy his age with thick curly black hair. Both of them were wearing only underwear, as the rest of their clothes were safely out of water’s reach, on top of small bushes growing at the riverbank.

"Don’t let it go!" Yew shouted.

Mpingo unfortunately slipped and fell on the soft riversand. His whole body remained underwater for several short moments, before he sat up with the water up to his elbows.

"Argh! We almost had it!" Yew stomped in the river, creating a large fountain of droplets.

The shallow waters of the river made for a perfect place to spend the hot summer days, so the two boys weren’t the only ones enjoying the water. About twenty other kids from Catriddle were also playing in the shallow waters, while a group of adults sat by the riverside and kept watch over them.

At a distance, several young mothers with their newborns gathered on a wide flat rock, chatting with each other, while getting their little ones acquainted with the finger-deep waters. Meanwhile, a group of elders sat under the trees, which surrounded the river from both sides, and enjoyed the pleasant refreshing shade without getting wet.

"Sorry," muttered Mpingo, still half-submerged by the flowing waters. He looked rather downhearted and he didn’t feel like getting up at all.

The gentle touches of the river current made Mpingo feel as if his troubles were being pulled away together with the flowing waters, providing him with a fleeting comfort.

Yew, who still had too much energy, ran up to Mpingo and patted him on the back, "Don’t worry, don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. We’ll catch it next time."

Mpingo forced a smile towards Yew, but he knew the harsh reality all too well. At their games, even though they worked together, Yew was always far more skilled than him. To Mpingo, it was obvious that he was only a burden. It hurt him to acknowledge that if Yew had played alone, he would have certainly caught the fish, which Mpingo had failed to drag to the shore.

"Oh, I see a big one," Yew pointed at another fish, all excited at the prospects. "We’ll catch this one for sure!" and he ran off after his new prey.

Mpingo, on the other hand, was unmoved by the assurance, sporting a depressed frown while recalling the last sentence, which Yew had said.

Each time Yew used the word "we", Mpingo felt as if a small needle stabbed through his heart. He wondered whether Yew actually believed that both of them could ever work together, because Mpingo could not see himself as Yew’s equal.

All these years, Mpingo had never done anything that would put him on the same skill level as his best friend. Yew was talented in so many ways. Yet as far as Mpingo knew, he wasn’t talented in anything. Whenever "they" succeeded, it was always due to Yew’s skills and talents. And whenever "they" failed, it was always because Mpingo did something wrong.

"Hey, Yew," Mpingo said and stood up. "I’m tired. Let’s go home."

Yew, who was struggling with yet another fish, did not hear his friend.

Mpingo sighed and quietly left the river. He took his clothes off the bush, dressed up, and slipped his feet into his sandals. He glanced one last time at Yew, who was still distracted by the fish, before he walked back to the village without uttering another word.