The village almost hums as Sophia enters it.
There is a rhythm to the motion, almost as if the village itself is alive. The children running between the carts, traders calling out prices and the Sun beating down on roofs of clay.
It was harmonius in a way Sophia had been unused to for a long time.
She walks through it, her body- even being in a threadbare dress, with her stomach growling and feet bare- felt much more at rest than she had felt in quiet some time.
The meaningless chatter, the way people barter with the tradesmen- they were a balm to her soul.
She pauses at a stall, where freshly baked breads lay on the counter. The smell wafting from the hot treats enough to stop her in her tracks.
She is once again reminded of just how much she is starving.
With her eyes fixed on the loafs of different shapes and sizes, on the twisted ones and ones with a filling, with some dusted sweet-sweet looking sugar on the top, she fails to see the round baker who has stopped just to her side, wiping his hands on his apron and looking at her with his eyebrows raised.
"Lady."
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
She jumps back the same time as the baker, her hand flying to her chest in shock, "My goodness!"
"Lady!"
They stand there, breathing heavily and giving each other scared looks before they finally calm down.
The man asks her, "Are you looking to buy?" He gives her a concerned once over, before quickly looking back in her eyes.
Sophia pauses.
She looks around at the cheerful community, one that she had never been able to be a part of, and at the baker...
"Yes." She proudly fishes into her pockets. This woman would have had something with her, right? Anything she can exchange...
...But apparently not.
There was no money, no trinklet, no notes or coins- nothing.
Her searching grows more frantic, before she determines that she has nothing to buy the bread with.
That is strange. In her long life, even when she felt she had been pushed down and quietened, she had never felt wanting of food for hunger.
A weird feeling rose in her stomach, just alongside the hunger she felt growing. It was almost like gratitude towards her family, towards the people who killed her...
She shook her head surreptitiously, before looking back up at the baker, who was now looking at her pitifully.
"I'm sorry. I can't give you my bread for free."
Sophia sighed heavily, before nodding in uderstanding.
She couldn't get the bread, unless...
She looked back up at the portly man, her eyes shining brightly.
"But I can work for it." When he seems uncomprehending, she hurriedly looked around the small tidy stall, her eyes searching, searching...
There!
She saw the dirty work station in the back, the flour and egg shells littering the counter and the floor, the unwashed dishes that the baker had probably used were peaking out from under a rough cloth.
Turning back to him, she asked, "I can clean up your space for bread."
She looked at him imploringly, her eyes shinging.
The baker finally leaned back, hands on his waist as contemplated the offer.
"Hmmm."
He looked back at the dirty workspace, at the woman in front of him, again at the space, then looked up at the sky, at his breads, counted something on his fingers...
"Hmmm."
He did this for a few minutes, that seemed to drag on for Sophia, who was almost at the wits end before he looked at her again.
"Well," He began slowly, looking unsure, "I do not like a dirty stall..."
"Thank you!" She reached out in joy, but restrained herself before she reached him. It would not do good to hug her new boss.
"BUT!" He raised his voice, looking at her sternly, "I want a good job. I want all the mess cleaned- the counters wiped and shined, the dished washed, the shelves dusted and the rubbish taked away. If, and ONLY IF, I find your work good will I give you the bread. What say you?"
Now it was her that paused, before the grumbling in her stomache grew painful enough that she blurted out.
"Yes! Yes I will do it. I will do a good job."
And she did.
While she had never before been on the brink of survival, or ever felt short of food- she had always had this need to be useful, to prove her worth. So working around the house, around the kitchen, at her father's firm had been a daily thing for her.
She wiped the counters till they shined, the pots and panned she scrubbed till her hands felt numb and the spoon you could see your face in, she meticulously picked up the shell pieces, the dust of flour and bread crumbs off the floor, dusted the shelves where the baker would be putting his newly baked dished, and put the garbage neatly into a bag to be put away.
As an additional show of gratitude, she also cleaned the furniture he had been using- the chair, the table to sit in, his knife. She also scrubbed the floor.
She wanted the best looking bread out there. So she worked.
When she was done, the baker looked at her work.
"Oh!" He looked at her with upturned lips and impressed eyes before wobbling over to a case in the front of the stall, where lay the big and tempting piece of bread with cranberry jam inside.
Her mouth watered as she watched him one out, put it on a plate, and hand it to her.
"Well, you sure are a hard worker."
She flashed a big smile as she hurriedly took her first bite. It was delicious.
----------------
"You found her?" Kael murmurs, stroking its head.
The bird tilts its neck, a low caw escaping.
"Good. Watch. Do not touch."
His steward frowns.
"Another wanderer, my lord?"
"Maybe. Only time will tell, Oswald."
----------------
The sky had turned dark soon after she had the bread, and the tea that the baker had offered when he saw her scarfing the food down.
"Slow down! You'll choke on that!"
She walked leisurely after that, taking a stroll around the village and just taking in the going ons around her. That had been hours ago.
The fields are empty now. Crickets hum, and a cold wind brushes through the grass.
Sophia lies down on a soft patch of earth, her pouch of berries- from the baker after a new bout of dishwashing and cleaning-beside her.
She stares at the stars- the only constant between worlds.
"At least you're still here," she whispers. "You and the sky."
She thinks about her past life- not bitterly, but distantly, like a story she once knew.
"Maybe this time, I'll get it right."
And as she drifts into sleep, a faint flutter of wings passes overhead.