Two Sides Of A Sad Coin

Dark clouds and dirty puddles drowned the simple town, together with the bright sun, turning it into a mushy grey. Occasional lightning strikes replaced the once noisy voices of pedestrians, merchants, and bards. The rain echoed outside the inn, while evening soon arrived—but the shades looked more like eternal night.

"I hadn't seen such strong weather since last winter," the waitress said, but her voice was overshadowed by the thunder.

The inn was still as full as always. The somber scenery outside did little to affect the merry atmosphere inside. The people still drank and ate like they always did, as if nothing was happening.

Every now and then, people entered, taking with them the water into the hall, and each time, a strong gust of cold wind would follow, giving the shivers to anyone close to the entrance. Sometimes a person would forget to close the door, in which case, the crowd would begrudgingly stare at them until the person trudged back and fixed their mistake.

Raya and I had taken a spot in the dining hall, preparing to eat before we returned to our respective rooms, as the storm outside certainly left no leverage for any adventures.

Raya—ever since she hugged me—stayed silent. Her hair was slightly damp, water dripping from her hair, like the raindrops outside. She rested her head on her hands, her mouth slightly open, while she gazed at the table, her eyes unfocused. She then innocently smiled. What a good girl.

"Are you two ladies ready to eat yet," the waitress came and asked us.

"Yes, I think so. What about you Raya?"

She simply nodded.

The waitress went away again.

While waiting for our dishes I was thinking I could pass the time by talking with Raya, but clearly, she was already busy with her own thoughts. Thus, I didn't disturb her. Rarely was she this happy, after all.

I observed the inn, a sight I had slowly grown accustomed to. I felt that it might have been time to change the scenery. Soon we should set out once more I thought when my eyes fell upon a familiar group.

In the opposite corner of us, Chase and his rowdy friends surrounded a table. They talked louder than anyone and, without care, threw their trash on the ground. As always, they were doing their best to terrorize those around them. Without trying, they gathered all the attention, especially Chase with his big build could not help but stick out like a sore thumb.

I drifted my sight away from them; It was an uninteresting spectacle.

The waitress soon arrived with her classic soup, but to my surprise, she was carrying something else towards us, and it didn't seem like it was for anyone else.

As she placed the dishes down, I realized she brought us two bowls of meat—one for each.

"Is there some special occasion," I asked her.

The waitress laughed. "No, I just saw you with the Aletta girl and her brother. Ever since what happened to their mother, I had rarely seen them this happy, so it's a thank you."

I wanted to say my gratitude, but I was interrupted by a Raya who, as soon as she saw the bowls, suddenly turned deadly pale. The sight greatly confused me, and my words of appreciation were quickly changed to questions about Rayas wellbeing.

She trembled and all she managed to squeeze out was, "did I not say that I want only two-thirds of a soup?"

The waitress was as confused as I was and answered, "eh, it's free of charge. You don't have to mind it."

Raya stood up, her eyes bloodshot, and she screamed, "I can't eat it!" Her voice was loud, and she captured the attention of everyone nearby.

The waitress shrunk back and grasped the tray in her hands. She blinked repeatedly before asking me, "did I do something wrong?"

"I have no idea either," I answered, baffled by Rayas reaction. Was she not really happy just a second ago? "Raya, please, would you calm down?"

She looked at me, her brows losing support and falling downward. "You don't understand, it's too much, I can't eat it all," she explained, her tone meek.

I tilted my head. "Then don't?"

Raya looked at me, her eyes moistened and she slumped down. "Fine."

As such, I apologized to the waitress for the fuss, and we began eating. The taste of the soup soon overwhelmed the confusion I felt. The soup tasted even better with the tender meat, which turned out to be pork, as it gave it an extra layer of flavor. The usually milky and mellow soup had an additional smokey and tartan feel, making it a lot richer in flavor.

As it might have been the last time I ate this dish, I tried to enjoy it even more, swirling the soup in my mouth before swallowing. If only I could learn the secret behind the soup. The dish disappeared twice as fast that day.

I scraped the leftover soup adhered on the wooden bowl and managed to get one last spoonful. The biggest piece of bacon was resting in it, bathing like it was relaxing in a pool; I had saved it for the last bite. The spoon went into my mouth and I ate the final piece with relish. Afterward, I patted my belly, completely satisfied with the food. Ah! How lovely.

I stared at Raya, my face resting on my hands, and I watched her eat at a much slower pace.

After stuffing her mouth full, she abruptly stopped halfway and frowned. The soup was almost gone, and only a few pieces were left by that time.

I asked her, "are you not going to eat the rest?"

She gulped once as she heard my question and then looked at me with a nervous gaze. There was an indescribable hatred flickering in her eyes, but surprisingly, it was not directed at me this time, since behind it there was a pure, unaltered scent of fear.

"I can't finish it, I am full," she said. Her face was devoid of any colors. She didn't (or couldn't) close her mouth after uttering these words.

I assured her, "You don't have to."

She said again, this time while shivering, her eyes turned cold, "I can't finish it, I am sorry."

Seeing her weird reaction, I stood up. "It is alright, I won't judge you if you don't."

However, my words were like a rubber ball, bouncing off of her as if never said, and she hugged her trembling shoulders, her eyes opened wide as she screamed, "I can't eat it Papa, please forgive me." She winced in pain and her eye turned red until a small tear formed and walked down her cheeks, caught by her blood-red lips.

I—seeing the severity of the situation—rushed to her, and placed my arms on her shoulders. "What is wrong? Are you alright?" I wasn't prepared for her sudden change.

She only repeated, "I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry." Her body curled into a ball and her pupils lost all luster. "Papa, please don't hit me," she cried. The prideful Raya nowhere to be seen.

"Your father is not here," I tried consoling her but she would not listen. She retreated in her mind shutting off, and her previous smile vanished, like a mirage it disappeared as if it never appeared.

I hugged her tightly, my arms wrapping around her cold body, in hopes of alleviating her pain, and indeed, she relaxed slightly. Her breathing, which was on the verge of turning disorderly, became silent again. She grabbed me, her fingers sinking deep into my dress and her tears turning into splashes on my body.

"Your father is not here anymore," I told her, my hands patting her back. "I will protect you from now on."

The trauma her father left behind was rooted a lot deeper than I initially anticipated.

Raya held me tightly, unable to let me go. She sobbed faintly, but no tears came out. I now understood, why she would be so overbearing when it came to her food. I placed my lips on her cheek, providing her much needed relief and said, "I will eat the rest for you, do not worry."

Raya nodded, her face returning to her rosy color and she muttered, "do you mind if returned to my room?"

Of course, I didn't, and I sent my girl away to take a rest.

-

Time had passed by then, and I was alone in the inn, while Raya was in her room, unknown of what she was doing. I sighed, my mind still preoccupied with what had happened. Even the soup she left behind did not taste as good as I remembered.

As I was about to finish and find rest in my own room, the door crashed open, a strong force pushing it and shaking the walls.

"What now," I unwittingly cried out.

The person entering was soaking wet, his ragged clothes adhering to him like it was his skin, and enough water dropped off him to nurture a generation in the Sahara desert. He clenched his fist in anger- no more than anger, maybe wrath, and he shouted loudly: "Chaaasssseeee!"

The furious voice stopped the actions of everyone in the dining hall, and they all searched for the source, and immediately froze, baffled by who it was. The young boy, I had met just the very day, his sister Aletta accompanying me and Raya on a small date, and I even bought them some meat skewers to enjoy.

His young temperament was gone and in his eyes was only cold passion, burning brightly like the sun that left us today.

I was quite shocked to see him, his sister nowhere around, but I decided to watch what he was planning.

The boy walked towards the confused Chase and with a voice full of emotion, he shouted, "I will not forgive you, today will be the day you repent!"

Chase squinted his eyes and asked, "what are you supposed to be?"

"You bastard," the boy growled. "I will not allow you to forget." He gritted his teeth. "It was only because of you that my mother is laying in her bed, unable to muster a single word!" Fierce injustice radiated of his composition.

The man Chase crooked his neck, and then his eyes lit up. "No way, are you the son of that whore?" He laughed derisively. "Don't blame me, it was not my fault that she ended up in a coma. Who would have thought she would fight back? I had no choice but add a bit more strength and push her. The rest was simply bad luck, allegedly of course."

His voice was so cold, the surrounding people could not help but shrink back. I, on the other hand, replayed my memories in full speed, as his words roused a certain memory in my mind. I remembered while standing in front of Albert's crime scene the crowd whispering in silence about the woman he hurt so much that she never left her house. Of course, it would be a great coincidence, but I could not help associate one case with another, and judging from the size of the town, such uncanny coincidence seemed not far fetched.

"You son of a bitch," the boy said, seething with anger, "I don't care about your excuses. I only want to know what you did with my sister!"

Did he mean Aletta? I remembered once again, how that girl used to follow the man around, trying to play witness of his crimes. At that time, I was rather surprised by her selfless act, but if the previous theory was true, then everything made sense.

Chase stood up. "Your sister? As if I knew what one or two brats on the streets were doing. Don't blame me for your misfortune." He laughed loudly. "But say for example a little girl crawling around in your footsteps, if you were in my position, would you forgive such disrespect?"

"You!" The boy cried out.

Chase resumed talking, "I heard the nobility pay a lot more for young kids these days, if caught, she would face great trouble. A cute girl like her would make an excellent slave for the depraved lords. Imagine it, every day, for the rest of her life serving as the sex toy of some fat fuck? Rather perverse the image, no?"

His voice resounded in the halls, much to everyone's ire.