บท 7: Routine
"It's weird, I never thought Laura would fall for someone so… rotund. Is it because he's the hero?" one guard says.
"That can't be right. Maybe he was joking—you saw how red she went when he said it," replies the other.
I press my ear against the door, straining to catch their conversation. They seem skeptical. It also appears they don't know I was only summoned yesterday; this supposed relationship wouldn't make sense if they did.
Strange. I guess details about me are tightly guarded. Their assumption that I've been here longer suggests that the Blue Flame Ceremony wasn't meant to happen so soon. What gives?
The "relationship" strategy came to me on the spot after the guard called us lovebirds. It's risky; better not make a habit of improvising like that.
"It's love, you shouldn't joke about things like that," one guard says. Once again, I'm reminded of my social ineptitude.
I'd better be more careful with what I say. This is another world; if I accidentally insult someone of high status, I could easily end up on the chopping block. Then again, maybe I already am.
"Strange lad, isn't he? The hero, I mean."
"You got that ri—here she comes," the other guard cuts in.
I step away from the door, and moments later Laura enters, the same bowl of porridge in hand. "Sorry, but I can't bring you anything else," she says.
Double meaning. She's referring to both the bland porridge and her inability to smuggle a writing utensil.
"It's fine, I'll manage," I reply. I already have an idea brewing.
Food like this will help me shed all this excess weight. Squats, push-ups, sit-ups—these will be my bread and butter between Laura's visits. When you do these exercises with a goal in mind, they don't feel as bad. I am beginning to stink, though.
Hours pass, and I'm lying on the floor, drenched in sweat as evening begins to settle. The door opens, and Laura enters for the third time today.
"That's one way to pass the time," she says, holding the same bowl of porridge.
"It's healthy," I reply, panting.
"I'll bring you some water to wash up."
"Thanks," I manage to breathe out.
Minutes later, Laura returns with a full bucket, what looks like soap, a towel, a washcloth, and some robes. She leaves without saying a word. During her brief visit, the door remained open, and a guard was watching us. Seems an order went out to limit her interactions with me.
I close the door, strip, and begin washing. It's no shower or bath, but it'll do. Soap. I guess it's older than I thought—made from animal fat. I suppose people figured out how to make it fairly quickly.
I toss the ceremonial gown in the corner and dress in the priestly robes. This time, they actually fit. Thank you, Laura. I'll have to give you a gift once this is over.
"Once this is over," huh? Worst-case scenario, they lop my head off. If it comes to that, I'll need an escape plan. I'm hopeful the book will reveal something—at least about their religion or the world. Once I learn to read and write, I'll have Laura teach me through letters.
I climb into bed. It's small and hard, but somehow still more comfortable than my old couch-bed back home.
Home. I wonder what it's like back there, how much time has passed. My boss is probably missing me—we were in the middle of a big project. I don't really have friends, and I'm not that close to my family either. I doze off before I can finish the thought.
A ray of sunlight on my face wakes me up. Not wasting any time, I get up and get dressed. I have a long day ahead.
I summon a blob of Red Water in my hand. Perfect. It's returned to maximum volume. Time to test my idea.
I retrieve the paper I carefully stashed inside the book. If a search happens, the paper can be easily explained as having been here before I arrived. And, of course, it seems useless—since I supposedly have nothing to write with. Or so they think.
The paper is old, wood-colored, and thick. I considered scratching words in with a stick or something, but that wouldn't work well.
I place my finger at the top-left corner of the paper and summon a speck of Red Water at the tip, concentrating. I was able to heat up a drop to tea temperature, but what if I focused the heat into an even smaller point?
I lift my finger and examine the result. As expected, a tiny black dot appears where my finger was. I can burn letters into the paper with Red Water!
Without wasting any time, I begin burning each unique letter onto the paper—all twenty-six of them. They're large and crooked, each letter becoming increasingly harder to form.
My regular handwriting isn't great, but trying to burn letters into paper with my fingertip is making it even worse. Hopefully, Laura will somehow be able to tell me how each letter sounds.
Ten minutes pass, and I finally manage to write down every letter. I'm sweating, and that familiar feeling of emptiness has grown with each letter. I summon Red Water again, and the volume has decreased by half.
I'll give this letter to Laura when she brings breakfast. For now: squats, push-ups, sit-ups, and any other movement I can think of. Being in shape can only help.
When Laura arrives, she discreetly slips me a letter while handing me the bowl of porridge. Her expression shifts to surprise when I hand her a letter of my own. Once again, the door remains wide open with guards peeking inside, and no words pass between us.
Aching and sore from the workout, I keep moving. Now, I'm walking in circles—I lost count after the three hundredth lap.
The rest of the day passed in cycles: workout, eat, latrine. The first time Laura returned, she said a short phrase, only to be reprimanded by the guards immediately after. Along with the porridge, she brought letters.
The first letter was the one I'd given her, now with a short phrase written underneath the alphabet. When she handed it to me, she said, "May the Goddess's blue flame show you mercy." A religious saying, no doubt, but it's clearly the phrase written on the letter.
That's seventeen letters down. It should be enough to deduce the remaining nine. I grab the religious-looking book and begin transcribing.
And so the day passed, with me reading, eating, and exercising. It ended with a quick bucket bath before I collapsed onto the bed, ready to repeat the cycle again tomorrow.
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