Half a year slipped by unnoticed and I realized this life had settled into an inescapable rhythm. While my fingers now deftly harvested Torbica, he continued his relentless search for opportunities and Kian, as usual, managed the herbal trade at home.
There are moments when I feel like I am living in a strange dream, where the boundaries between right and wrong, safety and danger, fade into obscurity. On nights when I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I wonder if these choices are truly the right ones, especially with the persistent uncertainty of our earnings. And yet, for all its imperfections, for all the loneliness I sometimes feel within my own destiny, the undeniable truth remains, ever since we began this work, it has still been far better than the bleakness we once knew. When the first light spills over the snow-capped peaks, when I find quiet peace in his gaze, when I hold onto this fleeting stability, I grasp that despite any regrets, this is the path I chose.
The clinking of glassware echoed through the cramped space as my fingers brushed the neatly arranged bottles, stubborn amber stains from yesterday's spills still refused to fade. With a soft exhale, I dipped the cleaning rag into the now-cold water bucket and began the meticulous task of wiping down the counter. Bottle by bottle, I polished each to a gleam, a routine deeply ingrained after so many days working here.
About Amir, our relationship defies simple definition. Even though he paid me for helping at the bar and took the time to teach me how to mix exotic liquors and rare elixirs, there remained a fragile thread between us, forever suspended between trust and suspicion. He was never quite a friend, yet not quite an enemy either. Maybe we were just two strangers who happened to cross paths in the same place, both carrying the weight of our pasts.
''So you've figured out how to grow Torbica then?''
Setting the rag down carefully, I turned to meet Amir's watchful eyes. He remained perched on the worn barstool, his expression as unreadable as ever, while the familiar hairless rat burrowed deep into his oversized sleeve, only its tiny pink tail faintly trembling.
"I've managed to locate some suitable places for more planting." I responded with prudence, not wanting to reveal too much about the flower's true origin. "Yet, as you understand, Torbica is a seasonal bloomer. I can't guarantee a steady supply of flowers all the time."
From his sleeve, the mouse timidly poked its head out, its beady black eyes darting around, full of curiosity.
"Perhaps today is the last time I'll be able to bring you fresh flowers this season.'' Patting the cloth bag at my side, I could still feel the soft Torbica blooms through the fabric.
"Aside from that-"
The sudden creak of the door severed his words mid-sentence. Clad in a flowing black cloak, the visitor moved like a living shadow, his deeply etched wrinkles carving an austere countenance. He offered a polite nod, to which Amir responded with nothing more than a faint curl of his lips. These transactions with a regular wholesale client were familiar to me by now, yet despite our many encounters, the latent danger simmering beneath his composed exterior never failed to unsettle me.
"It's a pleasure to see you again." Stepping forward, I took the seat opposite, offering a small smile as usual.
"Likewise." The man replied silently, his gaze remaining just as keen.
"Fresh Torbica, harvested three days ago. You can rest assured about the quality, as always." With a soft rustle, I opened the bag and took out a small, black-cloth-wrapped box.
Accepting the box, he couldn't conceal his awe, his eyes sparkling as he admired the dazzling silver-tinged blossoms. "Magnificent, this coloration... Where did you harvest these? Still from the usual spot?"
"As you know, every profession has its unique tricks of the trade. My only assurance is the unvarying quality of what I provide."
"Indeed, just a bit of curiosity..." He stretched forward. "Rumor has it there are some new areas opening up, with even more stunning blooms."
"That is intriguing," I responded. "Nevertheless, I believe we should focus on our transaction. What quantity of blooms are you requiring this time?"
The man was silent for a moment, then let out a quiet chuckle. "Should you disclose the location, I'll offer twice the standard rate."
There he goes again, trying to turn every transaction into such an obsessive hunt for information.
"I appreciate the offer, but I don't believe that's wise." I replied with a slight shake of my head. "You understand, if the harvesting spot became common knowledge, the supply would dry up fast. Then we'd both lose out, sooner or later."
"You're not wrong..." He nodded slowly, though his frustration was clear in his tone. "...What a pity. I'd hoped we could do bigger business."
A suffocating silence suddenly descended, pressing down on everything. Remaining seated, I forced a crooked smile, my gaze darting nervously toward Amir, who watched us from behind the bar.
"So be it." He let out a sigh, his hand gently tapped the tablee. "The usual, then."
Yet no sooner had the words left my mouth than I detected his eyes darting toward the pair at the rear table, men I'd assumed were just regular patrons. That brief look, though instantaneous, suddenly made me feel something wasn't right.
Each bloom was meticulously weighed and then placed into the small bag. "I appreciate your understanding." I replied with a placid expression, even as a cascade of scenarios began racing through my mind.
There is something going on.
A smile flickered across his lips but never reached his eyes. Then, he leaned forward slightly, his tone growing more earnest. "...I understand this might be out of line, but..." He paused, darting cautious glances around before proceeding. "I desperately need to know the source of these Torbica flowers. Their quality... it's simply beyond anything I've encountered."
"You know how it is.'' I gently interlacing my hands. A faint, almost silent sigh left my lungs.
"I understand, I do..." He nodded rapidly, then hunched forward even more. "But if you could just tell me, I'll pay triple the normal price...No, make that five times."
The men at the rear table had fallen silent and were clearly listening, which only deepened my unease. Their presence here likely wasn't a coincidence. Every detail betrayed their purpose, their furtive glances, the way their conversation hushed with my every motion, their carefully calculated positions that gave them full view without direct attention. And now, this silence, a silence so abrupt and profound I could physically feel its oppressive weight. No more pretense of conversation, just what might have been or might I have imagined? The controlled breathing of predators poised to strike.
I need to get out of here.
"Alright, that wraps things up then..." I started to rise, handing him the neatly tied bags of Torbica.
"Just a tiny clue." His look conveyed frustration. "I promise I won't interfere with your work."
Still, I held my ground, my gaze fixed downward with unyielding resolve. He saw this, his eyebrows drawing together and the corner of his mouth twitching. Then, with a sharp crack, he slammed his hand onto the table, causing several patrons to turn their heads.
"You act as if you're the sole supplier from there. But let me tell you...there are plenty of ways to locate a spot." His voice dropped, laden with an unmistakable threat.
"Indeed, I suppose so..." I tightened my hold on my shirt, attempting to calm my nerves.
"You're not the only player in this game." He stated.
Standing rigid, I found myself trapped in this charged confrontation, my breath all but suspended. My heart hammered so violently against my ribs that I feared its sound alone would betray my terror. A sudden, uncomfortable dryness seized my throat, making every word feel like a fatal mistake, an unwitting provocation that might escalate everything beyond repair. My mind whirled like a tempest, chaotic with desperate calculations.
Though he'd made similar threats before, this time the menace felt terrifyingly real. Would fleeing immediately solve anything or only worsen the situation? Could remaining calm and negotiating an exit even be possible when the very air hung thick with suffocating tension?
"A kid like you shouldn't be mixed up in this shady business." His hand slowly extended, then suddenly snatched the Torbica bag, along with the bags of gold in exchange. "Trouble's bound to catch up with you eventually."
Only after counting the exact amount as usual did I cautiously nod back. The tavern bell tinkled softly, seeing off the departing customer. As I turned, a sigh of relief escaped me, the tension visibly draining from my body. Yet my gaze stayed locked on the pristine money bags in my grasp. That single word, 'kid', lingered in the air, dripping with disdain and unspoken danger, shrinking me into sudden insignificance.
Then a sudden clearing of a throat drew my attention to Amir. His fingers drummed softly on the wooden counter, a silent rhythm of anticipation. "Is everything alright?"
With a subtle nod of acknowledgment, I strode to the counter. The metallic jingle of gold coins greeted me as I undid the leather bags, that distinctive melody of commerce I'd come to know so intimately.
"Here's yours. As usual."
"The Empire has enacted a military summons." He said after a brief hesitation. "I overheard it from a few knights the other day."
"This war never ends."
"Indeed, and what's truly tragic is they're summoning children as well." He swiftly bundled up two bags heavy with gold coins and gave them to me. "I heard they're calling anyone who's barely twelve years old."
War, would that mean Kian would be called to serve?
"Why children?"
"Maybe for scout training. I'm still not certain, but absolutely no one is in favor of this."
His image flashed before me, clearer than ever, Kian with his transparent smile and eyes still brimming with innocence. He still trembled at tiny spiders, still burst into tears at the slightest injury, still clung to me desperately during thunderstorms. How could such a child hold a weapon? How could he face bloodshed and death? No...It was unthinkable.