The Village of Pranow / Pt. 4

Circa 300n.t.
Dannaar, Ero'ia

Geena, a middle aged woman who lived alone in a small cottage a short distance outside of Pranow, extended her outstretched hand toward a small log. Her other arm strained under the stack of firewood that she intended to add one more piece to. She stretched a little too far and found herself now off balance, with the load of wood slipping off her arm.

Suddenly she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, steadying her. She looked up in surprise to stare into the rich green, sad eyes of a man she recognized too well.

"Garst..." She righted herself. "I didn't hear you approach. You startled me." She forced a smile. "Thank you. Your assistance was timely."

Garst nodded uncomfortably. She seemed to be aging more steadily of late. Her long blonde hair was now completely greyed. Yet she was still several years from fifty. Even her eyes, which were once a lively blue, had become less and less vibrant over the past few years.

Garst looked at the firewood in her arms. "Let me help you with that." He reached toward the stack.

Geena hesitated, not wanting to appear incapable. But the weight was biting into her forearm. She let him remove the wood from her arms. "Again, thank you."

She led the way around the cottage to the door. He followed quietly.

Once inside she pointed toward the hearth. "You may place it there, beside the mantle." While he did so she removed her old cloak and hung it on a hook next to the door. Then she took down an apron from the same location and began tying the strings behind her back.

"Can I get you some hot tea, Garst?" she asked cordially as she opened up a cupboard door at the far end of the single room cottage.

Garst finished piling the firewood and then stood upright. He stared at her silently for a moment without responding.

"Geena," his voice carried a somber tone. "I am going back in."

"Geena paused, her back still to Garst. She looked down at the herbs in her hands blankly, her thoughts losing focus as they made their way to distant places in her memories.

"When?" she asked softly.

"Today."

"Today..." she repeated absent-mindedly, her gaze still on the herbs. She then shook her head slightly, bringing her focus back to the task she had been about to perform. She turned around and, without looking at him, dropped the herbs on the table to begin crushing them.

"I am going to find him," Garst said seriously. "I am going to find your son, Geena."
Geena slammed a clenched fist down on the table. "Enough is enough, Garst!" The sudden outburst of emotion surprised even her.

She placed a hand on her forehead in frustration. "I am sorry. I...I didn't mean to..." She turned away from him without finishing.

Garst's expression became one of anger. "I know that you have held resentment toward me for what happened to Keftin, and probably still do. But there was a time when you held onto hope that he still lived. There was a time when you believed in me!"

Geena whirled around. "I had no choice! My son, my only son, was gone! What was there left to do? He was the only person I had left, Garst!" She began to sob. "I couldn't help it... I had to hope. I was going insane at the thought of him gone."

Garst crossed the room and embraced her, allowing her to bury her face against his chest and cry.

After some time her sobs slowed. She pushed away from him, and then used her apron to dab her eyes and clear away the tears. "I can't go on with this charade, though." She sniffed, her nose now reddened from crying. "Twelve years has been plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that my son is dead."

"Geena, I do not believe-"

"Please, Garst..." She looked away as she held up a hand to silence him. "Please...just stop."
Garst stared at her sadly for a moment, and then walked slowly to the door.

Before exiting, he looked back over his shoulder, wanting to speak. His mind struggled with the words. None came to his lips. In frustrations, he suddenly opened the door and left her cottage without speaking another word.

Geena walked to the open doorway and watched him go.