A World of Fragile Things

Caldwell awoke coated in a cold sheen of sweat. The sun had yet to fill his bedroom with its fiery glow and he trembled beneath his sheets. The remnants of screams rung fierce in his ears. Caldwell ran his fingers through his damp hair and took a few shaky breaths. The nightmare hid deep within the recesses of his mind, but the details of the dream had been burned into his brain long ago. Caldwell pulled another long breath before leaving the safe ha. A chill flashed up his spine at the briskness of the hard floor. He padded into the bathroom, where he began to run a shower. Caldwell pulled off his clothes before gingerly stepping into the spray. He wished he had enough money to upgrade to a heated -Caldwell scrubbed himself quickly and ran his hair beneath the faucet. Just as quickly as he entered, he leapt out of the shower. He dried himself off with a dirty towel. He caught his reflection in the mirror, and couldn’t help being disappointed by the gauntness of his face. Caldwell dipped out of the bathroom. His bedroom was littered with clothes, and he fumbled around for ones that were actually clean. Caldwell slipped his shirt over his head, yawning as he did so. He swung the towel onto his head and began to rub the water out of his hair. With his short hair, it didn’t take too long for it to at least be moderately dry. Caldwell tugged on a pair of pants before leaving his room. He hated the sound of the house echoing around him. He hated the emptiness. Caldwell rushed down the stairs and out the door, not wanting to linger in the house more than he had to. Once outside, a sense of peace overcame him and he slowed his walk down significantly. No matter how many times he saw the trees dancing in the breeze, their green fingers wiggling good morning to him, he was struck with awe and inspiration. He loved living in Leigh. One could never get sick of the view. But he did feel a certain restlessness setting into his bones. When he was a naïve young adult, he thought that he would become a merchant and travel throughout the regions like Alana. While that wasn’t long ago, he felt as if he had done so much growing over the recent years. But did he grow in the right direction? “Hey Cal!” He turned upon hearing the voice.

“Sasha! Hey.” Caldwell grinned at the girl who walked up to him.

“Heading to the inn?”

“Yeah. Not really looking forward to working.” Cal grimaced.

Sasha nudged him lightheartedly, “Got to make money somehow!”

“Stable job, stable pay.” Caldwell said in a sing-song voice. “Always keeps Immure away.”
Sasha laughed, but Cal felt the coldness of guilt spear through him. It was a playful jaunt perpetuated in younger classes to push kids into getting jobs early. Those who couldn’t find jobs would leave, traveling the regions until they found one. If they couldn’t find one until they hit Immure, they would be most likely be stuck there until they died. Or they would try their luck outside the regions, which more than likely would result in death. “How is the inn holding up?”

“Great,” Caldwell nodded absently, “Get a healthy mix of people.”

“That’s good.” Sasha nodded as well.

“How’s the market?”

“Y’know. Full of food. Full of thieves.” Sasha shrugged. “It’s starting to get annoying.”

“Do they need any buff manly men to help wrestle ruffians?” Cal flexed, provoking a laugh from Sasha.

“I’m sure they do.” She grinned, “Too bad you’re not all that muscular.” Sasha squeezed his arm, laughing.

“Woah woah woah. That’s rude.”

“Well, I’m only being truthful.” The brunette shrugged. The pair was well into town by now, and they were passing the market. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you around!”

Cal waved as she darted off before heading his own way. The inn wasn’t too far from the market, just around the corner. Sasha often came into the dining portion of the inn on her lunch break. Caldwell felt often that she came in to see him, but he couldn’t be sure. As he pushed the door open, he was greeted with a chorus of hellos. Cal grinned at the staff. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”

They all answered in turn as he passed them before dipping into the kitchen. He slid an apron over his head. “Hey David, you can take a break.” He said, patting the exhausted looking chef on the shoulder. David had been in the kitchen since Cal got off last evening.

“Thanks Cal.” The cook slapped Caldwell on the shoulder before stalking off to the break room. Cal took over the dish, which seemed to be a potato stew. Unsurprising. The inn didn’t offer a wide array of food. It wasn’t meant to be a restaurant; it was a place for people to rest overnight. Food was complimentary, and that’s enough for people to still eat it. Caldwell still took pride in his work. If he didn’t think he would want to eat it, he wouldn’t serve it to anyone else. They served stew all day, every day, for it always warmed up the weary traveler, but fresh fruit and cold milk was served in the morning. Beer was served any time of the day.

“Great to see you, Caldwell.” His employer said as she popped her head into the kitchen.

Emma was a young beautiful girl. After her parents died in the riots (as many parents did) she inherited the inn. She did a great job running it, and always made the guests feel welcome. If Caldwell could, he would live here. “Great to see you too, Em.” He smiled at her.

“Did you have a good evening?” She walked up to him, returning his smile.

“I went home, ate, and went to bed.” Cal stirred the pot. “So yeah, it was fairly productive.”

“Well, maybe next time we invite you out, you should come with us.” Emma ran her fingers through her blonde hair, peeking up at him with warm eyes.

Suddenly, Cal felt awkward. “Sorry, I guess I was feeling a bit worn out last night.”

“Next time it’ll be mandatory.” Emma ruffled his hair before leaving.

Cal looked after her for a moment before going back to his stew. After a quick taste test, he plunked a ladle into the pot and called for one of the busboys. “This is ready to be served.”

He crossed the kitchen quickly, grabbing multiple potatoes from where they sat in a barrel. Cal carried them precariously to the sink where he began to rinse them so they could be peeled. This was all his day would be until he went home. Tomorrow, he would start the cycle all over again. When did his life get so monotonous? He cast his mind back to the time when he longed to be a merchant. Naïve as his dream might have been, he could have fulfilled it. But that meant leaving behind his home, and everything in it. While he had done his best to burn away his memories, his home was not something he felt happy about leaving behind. He could have followed in Alana’s footsteps. Maybe they would have been partners in crime. I wonder when she’ll be back. He thought absently as he peeled potatoes. I wonder if she’ll come find me.