To Grow in Darkness

After, when the war had ended and an uneasy peace had settled upon the village, Galina returned to us. Thinner, yes. We all were thinner, of course. But taller, too. And wiser. Certainly wiser.

Without intending to, she became our leader. We needed someone to look up to. She was the best we’d had since Markus had been killed the winter before. Galina could use a bow. Could hunt and trap. Legend was, she’d killed thirteen men.

Lucky thirteen.

She divided us into groups without regard to family connections: Those strong in weaponry moved to the east side of the village and began forging axes, spears and lances for the next war that Galina claimed would come at any time.

Strong men and boys brought buckets of water forth from the spring to replenish the wells that had been allowed to run dry.

Gatherers were sent to the fields, to glean what they could from the ruined crops before expanding to the woods in search of mushrooms and berries and the herbs known to grow in darkness.

The rest of the village, the remaining nine of us, were to clean up the ruins that were our homes: broken earthenware, crude utensils and shattered doors. All were to be brought to the center of the village where we would mend what we could in the evenings after the sun had faded from the sky.

Galina herself would hunt for meat.



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