Coffee Stained Pages. Part 1

But unfortunately for them, Prime doesn’t fall at all. It just grows and gets better.

“And those stupid witches will lose the game.”

Aha. Ami would willingly play along with them.

She didn’t know any witches closely, but for some reason she felt that potentially such acquaintances might make her life more interesting. However, she didn’t try to socialise during her business trips to neighbouring cities. Each time, shyness took over and she preferred to familiarise herself with the local food and architecture.

An obvious choice, you can’t go wrong here.

The tramp grinned, put aside the things she had been clutching thoughtfully in her hands, and critically examined her more than bulging bags in a total volume comparable to her own size.

Almost everything she needs is here. But will it be possible to lift all these? And even if you manage to lift them, how long will you be able to walk with them on your shoulders?..

After all, the weight of what you are carrying has a nasty tendency to increase with almost every step you take.

Soon everything will be clear.

As clear as a sky in the hot season with three luminaries at the zenith at the same time. In the meantime, she has no intention of taking anything out of her bags.

She might even add more. A food. Something else she forgot.

…Preparing herself as if she were leaving this place for good, and not just for half a cycle. Ay-ay. Dreams, dreams…

Doesn’t matter. The main thing is to go. Away from here.

Just go, when expectations are already smashed to pieces, she is free. Anywhere out there is still better.

Ami threw her bag over her shoulders and tried to walk with it, bouncing slightly.

Well then… No heavier than her daily thoughts.

One thing was totally annoying… The service woman couldn’t sleep properly again. Suns will rise soon. And another dreary day will come.

Challenge accepted. Let it try to surprise her.

Light 2. Release the monster!

It… it worked! So… ridiculous.

Sometimes luck is far more discouraging than the usual failure.

When things go well, Ami has great discomfort. What’s wrong with everything?!

Nevertheless… Everything started fine. The boss ordered her to leave as soon as possible.

Happily at least once he and Ami had the same aspirations. On this beautiful day, the swamp opened up and spat out Ami like a witch.

Funny thing… not funny, actually. It turns out, it could have happened a long time ago, but the Department just happily forgot about the old agreement, and “remembered” about it just recently. For some reason.

And now, of course, they’re blowing all the deadlines again before they’ve even started to fulfil anything. Timeless classic. And a standard situation everyone is used to.

Because “there are a lot of things to do”. Especially during the harvest season and holidays when everyone is more “active” than usual.

It’s good that the agreement was remembered at all. And a great thing it happened suddenly, so Ami’s family didn’t have much time to dissuade or to blackmail her.

Because “the harvest is not harvested”, “construction is not finished”, “holiday is coming soon”.

Run-run-run. The bag is packed. The food is taken. Messages and documents to be handed over to the Omill’s Temples as extra weight are here.

The boss has not changed his mind about participating in this “stupid witch’s nonsense”. One less courier is fine. Less frequent to write dispatches and to read them. It’s no big deal.

So… It’s time.

It feels so good and quiet, despite the sleepless night confusion that everything starts out too well, and the anticipation of new worries. Even if the affair is totally pointless and would lead to another disappointment, she would have no complaints and couldn’t blame herself. The assignment wasn’t her choice. At least this fiasco wasn’t initiated by her.

Well, at least on the way back, the bags will be heavier by the weight of the souvenirs. Heavier by a bag of coffee for sure. It’s a great thing that makes any trip worthwhile.

Ami involuntarily smiled.

“Coffee. Wait for me. I’m on my way.”

Ami tossed her bags in, adjusted her clothes so they wouldn’t gather in creases under the straps, and looked at the dwelling she’s about to leave critically.

Everything she decided to take was taken. The rest was tidied and packed well, the room was locked. Her belongings would be in no danger. That’s all that matters.

Her parent’s house stared back at her with its empty window eyes.

Ami’s heart clenched for a moment.

It looks so naive, so disappointed, so… unloved. And it felt like a betrayal.

It doesn’t deserve such an attitude. It gave her its warmth and safety. At least things are clear, simple and unambiguous here.

What to do, what not to do. Who to be and who not to be.

Why does she leave it every time so easily and joyfully? Without a shadow of gratitude? Will it miss her?

It’s painful to feel unloved and discarded, but it’s also a pain to feel you can’t give love and care to something that desperately needs it. Because you just don’t have it inside you.

Sorry, the old boy. Don’t be angry with me. I… just can’t. Try with someone more capable.

So… It was time to wave, try to smile and say goodbye to everyone from afar.

And to hide the unwelcomed smile on a face and portray the sadness of parting.

Because in half a cycle, or maybe even much sooner, she will return here. And, if she’ll have a happy face now, others will have the same maliciously satisfied look later, when she comes back, the echo of her wide happy smile multiplied many times.

“She didn’t crawl far. The place of your birth is the place where you will be of use.”

Remembering about it would surely get her steps faster.

Let’s run from our local problems to the other ones.

For a moment, an epiphany hit her again.

Problems can’t be avoided anywhere, no matter how hard and how far you try to run away from them.

They can only be solved by standing up and confronting them head-on. She won’t be happy. Anywhere. Ever.

Why try harder?..

…And. What to do? Drop everything? Go back? Lie about being ill? The family will definitely approve of it. Boss wouldn’t mind postponing or discarding this stupid witch business.

“The Fertility Festival”

Aye…

Ami huffed in annoyance.

Yeah. Let’s go then. Bye, the house, bye, Kantine. Be well.

She turned around slowly and carefully, trying to minimise the inertial movement of her heavy bags, and strode out of town, dusting and shuffling her feet along the familiar part of the Great Road.

The Kantine vagabond loved the heavy therapy of wandering. It reduced her usual high adrenaline level and stopped her messy chaotic thoughts with tiredness.

Before she could move, she stopped abruptly, swaying from the weight of the load and with some difficulty maintaining her balance. There was one thing she really wanted to do. No matter what. And she had no intention of denying herself the pleasure.

It would be nice to see the city with the fresh, unaccustomed eyes of her replacement!

The best way to do it was to climb the hill on the way out of the city.

Ami carefully dropped her things on the ground and nimbly climbed up the hill.

…The settlement looked quite harmless from there. Even… nice.

It was fair to say that despite the unimpressive, squat, plain buildings, it was a very beautiful and charming town. In its own way.

It has fields. Yellow, green, in the colours of the plantings.

Ami had never been able to learn all of their names, which was reason enough for her immediate surroundings to look at her with some pity.

The scents of fruit and flowers from the gardens reached here too.

The growth and blooming is everywhere. Even on rooftops.

A quiet, measured, delicious and nourishing life. Labour that yields a pleasant harvest, pleasing to the eye and stomach. Peace and stability.

Quiet, peaceful… too peaceful for her.

Maybe it’s her fault. This service woman preferred traveling work to operational work, because she didn’t want to engage much with people’s business. And they say once it was something more or less interesting when she was absent. A couple of amnesia cases, to be specific. And one missing person at the same time, there were no special worries here. People are leaving this city time to time not telling anyone or getting lost in a Forest. It’s a usual thing.

There’s nothing to remember much in this place, if we’re talking about amnesias. Days and cycles are similar, sowing and harvesting, warm and cold winds and the clouds running over it all.

Maybe it could be a curious quest to find yourself again. To begin to know life and yourself anew. Right here. Right now. Who you are. What you want…

But does it mean your unconscious programs go away also? If they’re not… this is pointless…

Ami didn’t have an opportunity to finish her thoughts, because her attention was fully drawn to the gloomy dark clouds that were gathering in the sky above the city, apparently coming from somewhere in the Wastelands.

The Kantinian frowned synchronically.

She hadn’t noticed them before. They looked kind of… ominous. Not like normal clouds. At the least, they made Ami uncomfortable.

Then why to look at it. The rain doesn’t add comfort to a journey. Let’s get on the road.

She got down the hill, grabbed her belongings, and walked to a wide trade route leading to the next town.

It’s an easy trip. You can’t get lost here. Not if you tried hard enough. Just go. And go. And you’ll find Omill inevitably. And what’s nice – there was no hurry this time.

Maybe the journey will be more comfortable if she waited for the caravan. But she spent too much time being trapped by the home-work route. She really needed some physical activity. As well as something to chew.

It would make the walk more pleasant. She left the house a moment ago, and her appetite was already whetted as if she’d walked a good part of the way.

She’s a Glutton. Kantinians were considered gluttons, but who wouldn’t be, with all this food splendour? No surprises. They worked a lot, they ate a lot.

A peasant slipped her hand into the small bag hanging over the belly and fumbled for a large chunk of her favourite dried vegetable.

She found one, took a good bite and started to slowly chew it with pleasure and satisfaction.

There was surely something good about her homeland. These vegetables. Such important things seemed so insignificant while they were within reach. But, when you suddenly realise that there’s no way to get them.

Ami looked carefully, with a new look, at the piece of vegetable in her hand.

“We’re not going away for too long. There’s enough of them in our storage.

Anyway, нou’ll have time to eat your fill of them. Don’t you want something new for a change?”

Quite. She already ate here and here she goes to reduce Omill’s supplies of coffee and flat cookies.

Light 8. Hot Reception

Ami appeared on the doorstep of the Precinct, clutching her pre-retrieved travel cloths from her bag resolutely in her hand. I wonder who she would be assigned to? What would she be doing? Handle conflict situations? Search for missing persons and missing things? Escort valuable packages…?

At home, she was best at the former. And how will she do it with her not-so-pure Omillian?

It would soon become clear.

She was confidently heading towards the secretary’s booth she already knew from earlier visits when suddenly, before she realised what was happening, her body bounced a decent distance away from something. And in good time, too.

A field of barely tolerable heat emanating from a slim, slim figure of short stature in the form of temple witches passed by the dazed servant, next to whom, without any apparent discomfort, the Truth Station Chief Milo was hurriedly walking with a concerned look, obviously trying to explain something.

– It’s not just our reputation that’s been damaged, it’s my man, don’t forget! – was an angry rebuttal to something that had been said before.

The refined witch, the source of the searing aura, raised his long, pale index finger sharply and stared with a piercing gaze of his frighteningly bright blue eyes, emphasising the importance of what he had just said.

– “My men are making every effort to find out! And you know it… – Milo tried to put maximum conviction into his words.

Why is he trying? There’s only one way out of the situation visible here…

“Run! Run! Run, run, run, run.”

Where to run to, we’re here on business…

“Freeze, freeze, don’t move! No, move back! Look, they taught you at the Office on a refresher course on how to deal with rampaging witches. Here, remember that.”

Nah. That doesn’t sound like something worth dealing with.

Milo’s in a bad place right now.

This witch Ami had seen before. His name was… I think his name was Finian. Yes, I think so. He was the head of the Witchery of the Omilla Temples. That’s right.

Ami had only seen him a couple of times, bringing documents there and taking them from there, but a creature of such cold inhuman beauty that emanated a powerful sense of might, such a combination was almost impossible to forget. It was toxic and irreversibly embedded in the memory. Only the proverbial amnesia could help with that.

As the dangerous couple moved away from the horrified and pensive Kantine and toward the exit, the Kantine was less and less inclined to the “run and hide’ plan of action.

It wasn’t until the epicentre was a decent distance from her that Ami began to vaguely recall what they’d been taught in the Kantina’s Office of Order courses.

Suddenly “come from behind’, “sneak up on’, “stun’, yeah… They weren’t the first things that came to mind when they saw this angry serving witch. But to quietly withdraw and quickly hide…

…Judging by the look of the people who were waiting in suspense for the events to continue, it was clear that they were also going to move on to Ami’s first plan. She only noticed that she involuntarily pulled her head into her shoulders. As she exhaled and squared her shoulders, she noticed something else…

The ends of the fabric of her documents were beginning to smoulder!

Ami quickly looked around for a remedy to the sudden affliction. A dark-haired man in uniform was staring thoughtfully at a cup with a greenish drink in his hand. Coffee…

…Into which Ami quickly dipped the edges of her document, which was about to burst into flames.

Omillsky looked at her with a perplexed look of silent disapproval.

– I’m sorry! – Ami showed him her most guilty expression. – The creepy witch set fire to my service cloths!

Amelia quickly showed her interlocutor the documents that were scorched and greenish from the liquid dripping from them. She was so quick to remember Omillian that she didn’t realise it herself. However, by the accent and the pauses during which the Kantine tried to find the right word, those talking to her could easily guess who they were dealing with.

– Why such a spectacular way of extinguishing? – The truthful one asked curiously.

– It didn’t occur to me otherwise… Let me wash your mug.

– That’s all right. – he said nonchalantly, sipping his drink as if nothing had happened. – Mmm. Smoky. Don’t worry about the cup. You could have asked me to put out the document.

– I’m sorry again! I don’t know how to do it… and I don’t think anyone does. Oh, and… I forgot that I’m surrounded by extinguishing witches now too… not just arsonists.

Ami felt the colour flood her face. Yeah, that was definitely not the best way to make a first impression when meeting someone.

– Don’t worry. – The new acquaintance blinked his eyes peacefully. – I’m Davin. Or just Dave. I work here. And I think I’ve seen you here a couple of times before.

– You’ll be seeing more of me now. I might. There’s a chance I might be working here, too,” Amelia exhaled dazedly, her eyes sweeping around the lot. – And… do you get this kind of thing around here often?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone fixing a problem with the entrance curtain, which seemed to have suffered the same fate as the Ami’se documents. An impenetrable fireproof special reinforced curtain made of special materials…

Wow. Of course, the decorative trim could have gone up in smoke… However.

– Finian’s visits? – smirked the clerk. – Luckily, no. But if you do, feel free to call on me and my cup for help. This is a serious matter. You can’t hide in it, but you can pour its contents all over you.

– Coffee rain…” Ami hummed. – Luxury.

Dave gave her a friendly wink and strolled off at a leisurely pace to the first floor.

Servicewoman saw him off with her eyes and exhaled in relief. Such a sweet, humorous cutie. If everyone here was like that, it would be a pleasure to work.

In Kantine, she would have already received an angry lecture about her low intelligence. Yes, it’s true, they’re not great and they don’t shine, but Ami’s already adapted to living with that and not using them at all. It even works better that way… Acting on instinct is the most effective.

“Focus.”

With a determined exhale, Amelia shook off her wet papers, heading towards the secretary’s booth. Well. Looks like it’s not going to be a boring place.

– It’s a bit noisy in here. And hot. – she began, trying to hold the damaged documents out of the window as nonchalantly as possible.

– Yeah. It’s a little restless right now. – accepted the secretary’s tissues with the same expression.

Seems she’d seen more than a few things during her time here. What curiosities could she have encountered yet during her professional life? It’s scary to imagine…

With a silly giggle, Amelia looked away.

– It smells of coffee and spicy ivy. – She added hastily, smiling and returning eye contact.

She had to look, if not serious, at least sane when it came to employment.

…Swampies. I mean, that’s practically impossible in an Ami’se case.

– Yeah. Sometimes we don’t know if it’s a coffee shop or a place of truth. – agreed. – I think it’s time to repurpose ourselves and stop deceiving people.

– I’m Amelia from the Kantine Department of Order. – I’m Amelia from the Kantine Office of Order. – I was sent on an exchange programme.

– Ah! I remember you. – The truthful one nodded cheerfully. – You are sent periodically with documents. I’m Lucille. Or just Lucy. You and I haven’t had a chance to get acquainted because of your habit of mumbling something welcoming and hurrying away. Now you’ll get a chance to taste what it’s like to mumble something to everyone on this side of the window. But you won’t be able to leave. So sometimes you’ll have to have long conversations with people who get in the way of your work.

– I’m interrupting your work? Oh, I’m sorry. – I’m sorry.

– No, you’re the one who’s going to be interrupted the first time around. It’s annoying at first. Then you get used to it.

– Here, is that – At the station? Don’t tell me it’s here, in this window.

The Kantine furrowed her eyebrows incredulously.

– I am. I can best imagine what my replacement will be doing. – giggled the Omillian servant.

– Swamp-deads… A secretary! Nooooo. I don’t believe it…” Ami was taken aback.

She had a huge and growing desire to sit down on the floor with her bags and try to digest what she had heard. It wouldn’t hurt to take the bags off, anyway. It would be a little easier.

– Exactly, a replacement. – confirmed Lucille, still not understanding the reason for the confusion.

– It’s a dumb case! I mean… It’s… Gee! I have to be a secretary?! – once again, not believing what she had heard, the Kantine clarified.

The blood rushed to her cheeks.

“No surrender, no retreat.”

– Aren’t you… not a secretary? – wondered the truthful one. – It was a matter of exchanging those involved with archives and documents to simplify the process and perhaps bring it to a common standard. You weren’t told what you’d have to do here?

– No, they didn’t. They were afraid I’d refuse, I guess… Or maybe they just forgot about it. I’ll make it come true with my moronic, self-righteous boss. Rotten pokers…” Ami snorted annoyingly. – I’m… an operative. An enforcer. An escort… And this… This is different! I definitely won’t survive sitting down. Or your station won’t.

She paused to catch her breath after her irritated tirade. Then, with a chuckle, she added:

– “I think these walls have seen more than that, though. And our staff secretary won’t give up his seat to anyone. He doesn’t allow anyone to manage his archives, even seals them for his time off. “So as not to make a mess.”

– How I understand him! I have to do the same, because after time off, I sometimes can’t go into my room – there are stacks of plates and additional work for a small cycle all over the floor. Ah… Oh, my. – Lucille was horrified in the mirror. – I’m the one who’s going to have to do the operational work?! That would be… weird. And I don’t really like unnecessary fuss and bustle. I’ve been avoiding temple combat training with Moki for a while now. Of course, we’re not the only ones. It’s usually pretty quiet in Omill. I don’t think all this creepy, traumatising stuff will ever come in handy. Still, I wouldn’t want to be reminded of what it’s like to be on duty and in surgery right now.

Neither of them wanted to be in the other’s shoes.

– Oh, don’t worry. – The Kantine’s decent woman brushed it off. – There are no incidents more serious than tavern brawls or dangerous creatures walking around in the middle of nowhere. I haven’t been doing anything more dangerous than counting caravan sacks, inspecting trampled fields and chasing through the woods after a crazy townswoman who escaped from the temple hospital under medicine lately. Swamp boredom… The last really serious thing happened before I even got to the service…

– Sounds reassuring. – exhaled the secretary. – The crazy townswoman, however, does not inspire confidence.

– She was unarmed and a danger only to herself. She could get lost in the woods or fall off somewhere… The most you’ll have to do now is to be the judge in a dispute between a couple of pissed-off townsfolk – whose vegetables are more productive. – Ami nodded. – It’s a regular Kantine argument. There could be a scuffle.

Lucy nodded cheerfully in response.

– A timeless Kantinian classic! Just like in the old textbooks and stories heard long ago… And nothing has changed. True to tradition. And the secretary will still have to give up his seat. – hummed the Omillian. – Otherwise the whole point of the exchange programme is lost.

– It’s already irretrievably lost if I, without skills and aptitude, am going to be involved in such a job here. – Ami waved her hands. – And with my level of Omillian. I can understand what’s written better than what’s said, but the fact that I’m used to writing on cloth and don’t know how to use your tablets won’t help me do my job better here. Neither will the stress that comes with sitting down…

– I don’t think you’ll have to do much writing on your own. Not unless you keep a journal. – Lucy suggested. – More like compiling and cataloguing what someone else has already written. You should be able to read the spines when you’re looking for them. If we’re having this conversation. Your language skills are pretty good. Especially for a Kantine.

– Thank you. Yeah, it’s incredibly difficult to get non-horticultural books and reference books.

– Oh, by the way. Is that why you were sent here? Not many people in Kantine speak Omillian as far as I can remember…

– Yes, that’s right. That’s why I’m always the first traveller. And the only one who doesn’t know, but is at least interested in other languages. And culture. The rest of us are drowned up to our ears in domestic worries and love for the fatherland. They don’t want to come out, because it’s warm there. And safe.