Alkadia cz.16

Jasmin bustled around the kitchen. She was tending to the baking bread and chopping vegetables for the soup, which was bubbling quietly, spreading delicious aromas throughout the kitchen.

"Mmmm..." Blik murmured, taking in the aroma of the delicious soup. "Honey!" he exclaimed. "It smells so good in here... Oh! I didn't know you baked cookies..." he remarked, then picked one up and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. "My wonderfully intoxicated little wife!" he choked out, scattering crumbs around him.

"I didn't bake it, but I'm glad you like it," Jasmin laughed.

"I love such homely smells..." Blik sighed after swallowing the cookie. "Bread baking in the oven, my favorite vegetable soup, the best of its kind, because it's made with vegetables from our own patch, not from half-rotten market stalls... Oh, honey, there's nothing like home-made bread, warm and crispy, not bought from people who call themselves bakers and sell stale baked goods!

" "Oh, husband, don't exaggerate!

" "Am I exaggerating?

" "Well, I'm not! By the way," Jasmin changed the subject, "how's our patient doing?"

"Weak... very weak! He looks like a ghost of a person, not a flesh-and-blood man. He's abnormally pale, and there are dark circles under his eyes!

" "He'll get better. I can see he's getting better every moment! He may be weak, exhausted, pale, but you'll see, everything will be alright! Before you know it, he'll be well!" We need to give him some time... And besides, you know too much sleep is bad for you... Let's not talk about it now, okay? Dinner's ready, call the children and Kestora. I'll set the table.

Blik stepped out into the field, where the sounds of play were still coming from. A man's deep voice rang out, now filled with pride and joy at having such successful children.

The next moment, Stokrotka, the two boys, and Kryspin, with Różyczka on his back, rushed into the kitchen. Blik followed them, clutching his stomach and laughing.

"Really, honey!" he exclaimed as soon as he had some control over his laughter. "Our grandparents did it! All of them, without exception!"

Jasmin laughed and said,

"Children, please go wash your hands and faces quickly! Quickly, or your soup will get cold! Kestora, this goes for you too!"

The boy pulled the girl off his back, saluted the woman, and followed the children into the bathroom.

When everyone returned, they were greeted by plates full of thick, aromatic soup, with chunks of vegetables swimming in it.

The children eagerly ate their food. Each received a slice of bread to nibble on.

"Mmm..." Kestor murmured in the same way Blik had some time ago. He swallowed another spoonful and said, "I've never tasted such delicious soup in my life! Even my oldest sister, Danna, never cooked like you, and I must add that she's famous for the best pastries in our area... And I'll also say that she...

" "What happened?" Jasmin asked, concerned by the boy's sudden silence.

"N-nothing. It's probably..." Remorse surfaced..." he whispered, feeling his throat tighten with regret. He cleared his throat.

"But why?" the woman asked.

"You don't know the whole truth..." Kestor sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"What truth?" Blik inquired, swallowing another spoonful of soup with relish and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You see... When I left with Kryspin... To look for his missing friend, I... actually didn't leave...

" "No?" Jasmin asked in surprise.

"No!" the boy repeated after her. "I didn't leave, I ran away. Without telling anyone. I slipped out of the house at dawn, so that no one noticed my disappearance. Although I think my good mother suspected something... I think so, because in the kitchen I found a bundle of food and a warm blanket... My dear mother... It's better this way.

" "How?

" "That I left... Oh, stupid superstitions!" Kestor shouted suddenly.

"You'll return to your home... I can feel it, dear boy. You'll return, and your parents will forget all the worries you caused them in the past... You'll see—they'll be happy to have their son back..." Jasmin said.

"I hope so..." Kestor whispered and went back to eating his soup. A feeling of guilt tormented him. So many worries now fell upon the minds of my dear mother and the entire family! These pangs of conscience weren't drowned out by the feeble argument that it would be better this way... Escape is the worst solution to any situation... But it's too late now. He can't leave Kryspin and return home; something as fragile as male pride wouldn't allow him to... And a sense of duty.

"Oh!" Jasmin suddenly exclaimed. "Kryspin!"

Everyone turned their eyes to the door. He stood there, gripping the doorframe, but keeping his feet firmly planted.

"Hmm..." he muttered. "I'm getting such delicious smells from here, they're making my stomach rumble! Is there a bowl of soup for me too?" he asked, smiling.

"Of course!" Jasmin laughed. "Sit down, I'm pouring it for you."

The boy sat down in the nearest seat and sighed.

"Honey!" Blik exclaimed. "Seconds, please!"

The rest of the meal passed in friendly conversation. Kryspin devoured his portion very quickly. It was as if he hadn't had anything substantial in his mouth for days—which was actually true...

"Mmmm..." Kestor muttered with satisfaction, patting his stomach and settling back into his chair. The recent pangs of guilt paled in the face of such a filling meal. "I haven't had this much in ages!

" "Me too! Forgive me, my friend, but even Danna doesn't cook as well as Mrs. Jasmin!" Kryspin said with a smile. The boy didn't look as awful as he had that morning. His face had returned to its normal color, except for the dark circles under his eyes! But overall, he looked and felt a whole lot better...

"Oh, Kryspin, don't make me look older!" the woman exclaimed, but a spark of joy and contentment with life played in her eyes. "To you, my dear guests, I'm Jasmin, understand?

" "Yes, Jasmin!" the boys said in unison.

"What do you think, dear wife, if we treat our guests to a glass of our finest wine?" Blik asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"They're barely fifteen!

" "Oh, sorry!" Kryspin exclaimed. "I'm already sixteen!

" "Well, okay... But only half a glass each! But that applies to you too, Blik!" she added, seeing her husband rubbing his hands together in glee.

"Why?" he asked, disappointed.

"Because you're at work! Someone might come in any minute, and what will they say when they see our excellent local doctor in a state of intoxication?" Jasmin explained jokingly. "And there's no talking, because you won't get anything...

" "Beat, woman, don't talk!" he shouted, pounding the table with his fist. Jasmin flinched. She sighed, kissed her husband on the head, earning him a pat on the cheek. She lit a candle and went down to the basement.

She returned a moment later, carrying a slender, corked bottle.

No one had said a word in the meantime; everyone seemed a bit shocked by Blik's sudden outburst. The kids ran out into the field to play.

"I'm a bit impulsive..." he began, as if to justify himself. "Sometimes I yell at the kids, or at Jasmin. But I hold back, believe me! I know what's going through your heads right now. You're wondering if I ever hit her. The answer is no. She's my beloved wife, the woman I married out of pure love. She's been my darling for years... sixteen, I think. Yes, we've known each other for sixteen years! And the moment I saw her... I knew she was meant for me... Yes, you know it. I can feel it!

" "Don't exaggerate, Blik!" Jasmin blushed. She uncorked the bottle and poured half a glass for each of them, then began cleaning up after dinner.

"Can I help?" Kryspin asked.

"You must be joking," Blik said. "You? In your condition?" He took a long sip of wine. "You're supposed to be resting!" I don't even know why you got up... you should be sleeping.

"Sleep?" the boy snorted. "I've had enough sleep..."

"Exactly," Kestor interjected. "Speaking of sleeping, where did you spend the night my father told you to leave? Now I'm wondering...

" "I found a hunting cabin nearby. It's awful, I don't think anyone's been there in ages. Everything's rotten. Even the chair collapsed under me when I sat on it. That's when I got that splinter...

" "You slept..." Kestor began, clearly surprised. "You slept in an old hunting cabin?

" "Yeah... Is that something bad?"

"No, just... hmm, I don't think anyone in their right mind would spend the night there...

" "Why?" Blik asked, draining his wine.

"Because... There's a legend about this place... And it says that anyone who crosses the threshold of the cabin will die!

" "Oh well!" Jasmin interjected from her pots.

"Easy for you to say. We've been scared of that place since childhood!"

"Talk..." said Kryspin. "Your neighborhood is terribly superstitious!

" "You don't believe me! Of course..." Oh, let's change the subject, shall we?

Things became cheerful. The wine—even though only a small amount had been consumed—had pleasantly buzzed in the boys' heads.

Blik quickly had to leave for the patient.

"I'm tired," Kryspin said suddenly. "Too much excitement for one day. I think I'll go get some sleep.

" "If you need anything, just call!" Jasmin shouted after him.

"And I'll go out into the field, look around the town..." announced Kestor.

"Go, but be careful. There are all sorts of strange characters lurking around," the woman warned.

"I'll be careful," the boy assured him as he left.

Elmar was a charming town. Full of small houses with roses climbing under the windows and cute children running around. Kestor strolled along the cobblestone street, looking in all directions. The longer he walked, the fewer charming cottages there were, and the more two-story townhouses. Shops and workshops dominated the ground floors. Men stood in the doorways, slowly puffing on their pipes. Women wandered from shop to shop, baskets in hand, loudly exchanging comments about the prices of silk, linen, and other fabrics, gossiping about who was with whom and when, or opining on the latest fashion trends.

Kestor absorbed the city's atmosphere with his whole being. It didn't bother him that some residents looked askance at him as he walked calmly in his worn-out clothes. Only now did he see the chasm that separated him from all the wealthy people he passed on the street. He was saddened.

"People are ignorant," he sighed to himself. "They think the world revolves solely around them. And the poor are dying in the streets... Oh, everything is so unfair..."

He spun on his heel and almost bumped into a girl. She was strikingly beautiful. She screamed in a strangled voice and jumped back.

"I'm sorry..." he muttered under his breath, loud enough for the girl to hear him. She nodded slightly and smiled.

"Nothing happened!" she laughed in a pearly voice that made all the men turn to look at the beauty with lascivious eyes. Kestor stared at the teenager as if captivated. A silly smile was plastered on his face.

"Marika," the old woman said, approaching them. "Marika, come on. Don't hang out with that poor man. What will people think?" She grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her along. A moment later, they both disappeared around the corner.

Kestor sighed and trudged toward Jasmin's house. He no longer looked around. He walked hunched over, staring at the pavement beneath his feet.

"People can be cruel," he muttered to himself.

Kryspin lay down and closed his eyes. He felt happier than ever. He forgot all his worries. He thought how nice it would be to live with Jasmin and Blik. They were such a happy family! All of them, along with their two sons, Rose and Daisy. What did they care about the big world when their lives were lived on the outskirts of Elmar?

The boy tried to fall asleep. But it was difficult, with children shouting outside the window at play, and a stupid, stubborn wasp that had lost its way to its nest chasing him. Kryspin jumped as the insect approached him, then quickly buried his head under the blanket. He heard the annoying buzzing for a moment longer. When it died down, the boy pulled back the covers and sighed deeply. He felt a presence in the room. He sat up in bed and, to his surprise, saw a little girl standing by the window. It wasn't any of the children he knew. A strange girl, with long brown hair braided around her head in a neat crown, and sharp hazel eyes that looked at the boy with a sober, intelligent gaze; She stood there, under the window, the sill of which reached almost to her chin, and stared at him with such intensity, as if she wanted to tell him something telepathically. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and her light green dress with ruffles flowed down to the floor.

Kryspin was astonished. How had this little thing gotten into his room? He hadn't heard anyone open the door. His head had only been under the blanket for a brief moment...

The boy got out of bed and approached the girl. He knelt before her and looked into her face. He saw something familiar in her... a strange glint in her eye, a contagious smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"Where did you come from?" the boy asked as calmly as he could. The little girl didn't answer. She just stared at him. "Little one..." Kryspin whispered, moved by the seriousness of this small, clearly four-year-old tot. "I won't hurt you. What are you doing here? I simply want to know how you got into my room and why. What's your name?"

The little girl remained silent, and her large eyes held a look of utter despair.

Suddenly, the girl burst into tears. She sank to her knees, lowered her head as low as she could, and sobbed horribly.

"Oh..." Crispin thought. "That little tot is crying! She must be lost... Poor little one..." he thought sadly, but after a moment, something else struck him. He turned around, but saw nothing to explain his behavior. "Strange... I feel, or rather hear, as if that little girl's cries were not in front of me, but in my head!"

He had a feeling similar to when he "talked" to the "Heavenly Guardian," only much fainter.

The girl lifted her head, adorned with a crown of braided, chamomile-scented hair, and looked Crispin in the eye. She opened her mouth and began to scream. Even though the little girl was puckering her lips in time with the words, the boy couldn't shake the feeling that her high, strangely familiar, melodic voice was reaching his ears from somewhere behind him, from the darkest recesses of his mind. Or perhaps it was simply someone standing behind him screaming like that? The boy turned abruptly, but saw no one. Instead, he sat down on the floor and was convinced that the voice he was hearing was a voice inside his head.

"I'm going crazy!" he thought.

"Save me!" the little girl screamed inside his head. "Do something, please! I'm begging you! I can't stand it anymore! Do something, save me before it's too late!" The voice didn't belong to the girl standing before him. It was older, strangely familiar, but he couldn't place it in the face of anyone it could belong to. The words began to fade. No, not fade, but rather... recede... as if someone were walking down a long corridor... He walked forward, screaming all the time. Suddenly, the voice dropped low, fading to the words of a prayer spoken softly, so softly that only the praying person could hear them...

It became completely silent. The girl was still standing by the window. Her head was bowed, her hair disheveled (her intricately braided crown had somehow come undone), and her hands folded as if in prayer.

"Do something..." the little girl whispered in a voice now quite familiar to him.

"A-Alkadia?" the boy stammered, approaching the girl. "Is that you?"

The little girl raised her head and looked sadly at Kryspin. Indeed, she looked just like four-year-old Alkadiana.

"Where are you? Alkadia?" the boy shouted, grabbing the little guest by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. "Speak! Where?"

Suddenly the door opened, and the little girl fell from the boy's arms. She probably fell to the floor. Jasmin stood on the threshold, her head slightly tilted, concern in her eyes.

"Are you okay? Why are you shouting?" What are you doing on your knees by the window? – she asked, moving further into the room.

– This... This little... – Crispin choked.

"What little one? What are you talking about?" the woman smiled condescendingly.

The boy looked at the floor. It was empty! No sign of the girl anywhere.

"She was here!" he shouted frantically, looking around the room. "She was! I held her by the arms, I let her go... where is she, where are you hiding, little one?" he leaned out the window. "She was! She was! I'll kill for it! She was here, I swear! A little, crying girl! She looked like a four-year-old copy of Alkadia! Where did she go? I have to ask her something... I have to... I have to find out... I... I have to..." His voice broke, and Kryspin sat on the floor with his knees drawn up.

"Kryspin..." Jasmin whispered, kneeling beside him and stroking his head. "Everything will be alright. Don't worry... You're tired, lie down and sleep... You'll see, you'll feel much better tomorrow. You'll see..." the boy sobbed in response. He raised his head; Jasmin saw tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes.

"Why... My little Alkadia... I grew up with her, you know? She was always with me, always. And now she's not with me... Where is she? Where is she? She needs help, and I'm too weak to help her... Why..." the boy sobbed.

"The day will come when you'll be strong enough to save her," Jasmin assured. "You'll see..."

TO ALL INTERESTED:

Just to be clear, this will be the last part. Don't worry, you'll still be able to read about Alkadia, but I've decided there's no point in posting more. I'll wait until the story is finished and only then you'll see it :). Complete, from the beginning, revised. Just one small problem: I don't know when it will be. As I (I think) said, my inspiration has betrayed me in favor of another story I'm writing. Warmest regards!