The lid creaked open, and a person unfurled from within—a woman with hair and nails that had continued growing long past any reasonable length. Her skin was paper-thin, almost translucent in the dim light of our tent. The only indicator that she was alive was the soft, barely perceptible rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes were open but unseeing, glossy and fixed on something beyond our world.
"What the hell is that?" Tav recoiled, instinctively backing away.
But I knew. Something deep inside me recognized what I was seeing, as if we shared some sort of kinship across the void of time.
"A Waiter," I whispered, the word leaving my lips at the exact moment Kuti said it aloud, though her voice carried an undercurrent of bitterness I didn't expect.
Our eyes met briefly in mutual recognition.
"Now that you know what's in the box," she said, her shoulders tense, "can I spend the nights here?"
"Not just yet." Tav's voice had changed, taking on the cautious tone of someone who'd just discovered a venomous snake in their boot. "Why are you carrying a Waiter in your box?"
Kuti's hand hovered protectively over the woman's form. She hesitated, then exhaled slowly.
"Because," she finally sighed, "she's family. Well, sort of. My great-great-great-great-great grandmother from my father's side or something."
Her fingers gently brushed a strand of overgrown hair from the woman's vacant face, the gesture at odds with the resentment in her voice.
"Her name is Col," she continued, her words taking on the cadence of something repeated countless times. "She has been passed on from generation to generation, so that in case she wakes up, she'll have someone to help her adjust to this new world."
The ritualistic explanation couldn't fully mask the anger simmering beneath—anger at being the one saddled with this ancestral burden.
I found myself thinking of my own family, or rather, the absence of one. My mother and father were already dead before my Waiting 300 years ago. My only friends had been Alfred and the Steel Claw squad. Alfred was gone now, and the Steel Claw had probably been eradicated during the Virtues' rise.
What would it have been like, to have someone waiting for me when I woke? Someone who knew my name, who could tell me what had happened to the world while I slept? The thought lodged in my chest like a splinter.
Tav was still watching Kuti carefully, weighing unseen risks. I could see the calculation happening behind his eyes—another mouth to feed, another potential problem.
"She's lucky," I said quietly, watching the Waiter as her lips formed silent words, trapped in a conversation only she could hear. "Lucky to still have someone by her side all these years."
What could she be waiting for? What dream or nightmare held her captive, just as mine had held me?
"You can stay," I decided abruptly. If no one else would take her in because of a weird box and a Waiting Ancestor, then as a fellow ex-Waiter, I would. Some bonds transcended explanation.
Tav shot me a questioning look, but after a moment, he nodded. "Fine. But are you sure you can take care of her by yourself?" He directed the question to Kuti.
"Yes." Kuti's voice hardened again. "She doesn't need help though." She began the careful process of folding the woman back into the confines of the box, and I couldn't help but wince at the sight. "She doesn't sweat, eat, need to move or go to the toilet. I just need to carry her wherever I go so she doesn't get lost or something."
She closed the lid with finality. "It's just my duty."
"Treat her with a little more respect," I said, the words forming in my mouth without thinking. She was just treating this person as something she had to deal with even if she didn't want to.
Her expression shifted, from simmering frustration to something else when she looked at me. Like pity. "You're a Waiter too, huh? If you're this weak after all these years, then she'll probably still be a burden when she wakes up. If she wakes up."
I started to say something, but Tav put a hand on my arm to stop me. "I'm sure we've all had a busy and tiring day trying to rebuild this village, so we should all just get some sleep. Okay?"
Fine. I laid down on my bedroll, making myself smaller since our already small tent had shrunk in space thanks to Kuti and Col. The walls felt closer, the air thicker.
"Just one more question, Kuti," I said.
I could see her silhouette turning slightly towards my direction in the dark. "What?"
"What is she waiting for?"
She didn't answer for an entire minute. I gave up and rested my head to sleep.
"No one knows," was her final answer as I drifted off.
...
I woke slowly to the sound of canvas flapping in the wind. The gray light of early morning seeped through the seams of the tent like a patient flood.
It was another day. The same routine would repeat itself. I would go and cut vines or some other arduous activity for the whole day. This was it. This is the pinnacle of Bon's life.
Tav wasn't here. He had left earlier like yesterday to tend to some wounds. Kuti rustled besides me, slowly waking up.
"It's morning already?" She said, groaning as she spat out clumps of her cream-colored hair.
Then she picked up the wooden box where Col was kept and stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress. The box creaked slightly as she hoisted it onto her back, the sound breaking the morning stillness.
"Aren't you going to go do some work for the Haven?" She adjusted the straps of the box across her shoulders. Haven. They were already calling this place that when the foundations hadn't even come close to being laid. Her nose crinkled as she sniffed the air. "On second thought, you might want to take a bath. You stink."
Rude. I sniffed my armpits. They did stink. It had been two and a half days since I had woken up, and I never took a bath since, so I guess it was to be expected.
Kuti was already walking toward the tent flap, Col secured on her back, ready for whatever task she was going to do today. Maybe tilling the ground, or helping to cook or gathering. Even though I needed to take a bath, I didn't know where to go.
"Where am I supposed to go to bathe?" I asked, sitting up on my bedroll.
Kuti pointed eastward, across the clearing where the tents were clustered. "Over there. Just walk over."
I could see a stream of water if I strained my eyes hard enough, snaking between the trees about three hundred paces from the camp's edge.
Fine then. I breathed. A cold wind blew through the horizon, causing me to shiver. Little sheets of rain had drizzled last night, so the weather was still cool. Even the sun couldn't be seen in the sky. The light grey clouds blocked it, only letting a little light in. It looked like it was rainy season during these months.
If I went to take a bath in the stream, there was no way it wasn't going to be cold. I didn't even have a towel, or clean clothes. Only the brown garment from Humility's domain and the clothes I had woken up with. But I stank, and I'd have to face another day of hauling and cutting in this weak body. Might as well do it clean.
I took a step forward. Those things would figure themselves out.
As I expected, the water was freezing cold.
I dipped my toes into the shallow stream, and the shock of it traveled up my leg like lightning. The cold sent violent shivers through my spine as goosebumps raced across my skin. My breath caught in my chest.
A dozen other refugees were already bathing in the stream, scattered along its banks. Some used wooden bowls to throw water on their bodies, the liquid catching the weak morning light as it arced through the air. Mothers crouched in the shallows, using small cloths to clean their children with methodical care while the little ones squealed at the cold.
Most of us were naked. When I got there, I started rethinking whether I should come back in the afternoon, but I had no idea if it would be even busier that time of day when everyone was awake. Better to do it now than never. I peeled off my clothes, feeling the bite of the morning air on my exposed skin.
This was the first time I had really taken a look at my wasted body. Through the reflection of the water, I could see it clearly despite the ripples that distorted the image whenever I moved. My skin hung looser than before, with a sickly pallor that made my veins show blue beneath. Atrophy had carved patterns across what was left of my muscles, leaving hollows where strength used to be. My ribs pressed against my skin like fingers under cloth. I looked malnourished and dehydrated, a shadow of what I once was. And if Tav was right—which he was—there was no way of fixing this, unless I was magically turned back to my original state.
Only Virtue Priestesses could use that sort of magical power, and I knew none that could reverse people. Not that they would bother helping me anyway. To them, I was just another broken tool.
A woman downstream caught sight of me staring at my reflection and shot me a dirty look. I quickly averted my eyes and focused on cleaning myself up. Everyone used their discretion not to let their gaze linger too much on other people's bodies. Privacy was an illusion here, but we all pretended otherwise.
I sank deeper into the water until it reached my chest. The current tugged at me gently, as if trying to pull me somewhere else. Some clumps of dirt floated free from my long, greasy hair, dyeing a portion of the stream brown until the soft current washed it away downstream.
The water did most of the work without me having to do anything. It coursed through my hair, removing the grime that had built up over days. I tilted my head back, staring out at the sky where the weak sun had begun to pierce through the clouds. Shafts of pale light dappled the surface of the water. The woods rustled as a slow breeze passed through them, making the leaves whisper secrets to each other.
It was... peaceful. I had never experienced this sort of peace before.
And yet, I felt sick.
Sick to my stomach. Blades flashed in my vision, not imagined but remembered—the weight of steel in my hand, the resistance of flesh, the spray of blood. Memories of lives taken by my hands. The faces blurred together now, but the sounds—the sounds remained crystal clear.
I was sick, not physically—Tav had taken care of that. But mentally. The quiet moment had left too much space for the past to crawl in. I was sick and disgusted by the person I was and am. Past Reygir wasn't incredible or strong like I'd believed. He was just a weapon aimed by others. I could see that now in hindsight. He killed people because he was told to. Sometimes because he wanted to. Sometimes because it was fun.
The Steel Claw raided villages and assassinated people in power. I had carried out orders for people who issued them for their own selfish gains, never questioning why or who would suffer.
I was proud to think I was significant when I was only leading myself to ruin. Greedy with all the money I made, spending it on things I didn't need just to feel important. Wrathful to anyone who stood in my way—I broke a man's jaw once for nothing more than a sideways glance. Envious when I saw my targets doing better than me, even when I didn't deserve what they had. Gluttonous, stocking up on booze and women just because I could. Slothful for not doing anything to change my situation even when I saw what I was becoming.
Was it the mandate that was making me feel this way? I felt sick. So sick I thought I would vomit and spew out my intestines. The waters seemed to corrupt from my mere presence. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Old Reygir was disgusting and a piece of shit. I would never regress back to that. Not that present Bon was any better. I was a weakling, a complete failure of a man. A failure at life. And now my sins were catching up to me.
"You're that guy that puked on me the day-before-yesterday, right?"
A deep, gruff voice sounded above me by the bank of the stream. I turned to see a stout, burly man with a straw hat. He grinned as if we were friends.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, sinking deeper into the stream, hoping he wouldn't see me. Of course he could—water is transparent.
"Hope you're doing better, lad." He took off his clothes, clearly planning to bathe in the same waters. I turned away as he undressed.
I didn't respond. He placed his bundle on the bank and eased into the stream.
"Ooh, it's chilly!" he exclaimed. "Cold season. Which means loads of fish moving downstream. Perfect."
He looked at me expectantly, but I wasn't in the mood for chatting. I'd spent enough time bathing anyway. I felt clean enough. The problem was I had nothing to dry myself with, and my old clothes were still dirty.
"Hey, man. You can use the clothes over there if you like," the man said, pointing at the pile he'd left.
"Really?" I asked, confused. "Why?"
"You look like you could need it." Before I could protest, he added, "Don't worry, I packed plenty when leaving the Temperance domain."
I needed them, and he clearly wasn't taking no for an answer.
"Thank you," I said with a slight bow.
"No problem, chap. We outliers gotta help each other in this new world we're building. There's a towel there too."
He gestured vaguely toward the growing 'haven' in the distance.
"By the way, name's Fisher. You?"
A man called Fisher whose first thought was about fish—little guess what he did for a living.
"Bon."
"Stay safe, Bon!" Fisher called as I left the stream, securing the towel around my waist. His tone was more warning than farewell. "There's been rumors of people vanishing around here."
Thanks for the heads up, I thought, but didn't vocalize.