Chapter 204: A Village Far In the East 1

Nolan Salvatore pulled a white horse, riding the horse was a woman with white hair and red eyes. Nolan had greying hair with ruby eyes. They walked along this dirt path and on their side was a bamboo forest. He wore a cloak, and underneath his cloak was a dagger. Ciara was wearing her robes, fixed up, and it didn’t look like the one she was wearing coming in this world.

Nolan squints at the wind coming from the east. There was a rice paddy field and along the horizon, he could see two mountains that peaked the clouds. There was a village near the paddy fields with children running around, bull-like creatures were pulling a contraption that tilled the muddy water. The landscape was grassy, tall red flowers, and clear blue water streams that coiled around the thin forest. Nolan rubbed his feet on the dirt and pulled the reins of the horse.

“You should take the horse,” Ciara said.

Nolan stepped on the bumped, caressed the side of the horse’s head and led it down the zigzagging road. Ciara was watching Nolan’s back, her eyes staring, lips partly open. Nolan stopped in front of a wooden bridge. He pulled the reins and tied it on the bridge. He held his hand at Ciara, she took his hand and made a thud with her boots, her torso leaning against Nolan. She looked up and saw apathetic eyes with no light on it.

Nolan pushed her shoulders away and rubbed his gloves. He started to the saddlebag, fingered the insides of it, and walked to a stump overlooking the paddy fields. He slumped on the stump, snapped his fingers. A candle-like flame rose on the tip of his index finger, his two eyes were looking at the flame. The flame went out, he stood, ambled to the nearest bushes, and fished out dried sticks and branches. He pulled a wool cloth on his back, wrapped the sticks and branches, and placed it near the stump. He sat on the stump, orange sparks came out of his palms, lighting the fire.

Ciara walked near the fire and stared at it. Her eyes sternly stared at him, “We haven’t talk ever since we left the Nimrod Tower. You’ve taken to the East, and we traveled for five weeks without speaking a word. You never raised your voice. All you do is fiddle inside your saddlebag, light the fire, and then offer me food. I don’t get it.”

Nolan stared at Ciara, his eyes then looked at the flames. He reached out for his pocket, took two dried beef, and started heating it up. His eyes staring at flames, looking at how it dances. Behind him the clouds moved, casting shadows on the village, the brown leaves flew everywhere. The men wearing wicker hats looked up and observed the leaves. Behind Ciara, the bamboo forest sounded, bending, as it almost reached the ground.

Ciara’s face crumbled, she started to Nolan’s side and placed her head on his shoulder. Nolan’s apathetic face stared at him, he chewed on the dried beef and handed one to Ciara. She took the beef, bit on it, and ate it while her head was resting on his shoulder. Nolan bit the last of his food and stood up. He sauntered to the saddle, reached inside and took two apples. He sidled back Ciara and handed her one of the apples. He took the apple with him near the paddies and stared at the village with thatched roofs.

Another wind blew Nolan tug on his cloak and went to Ciara’s side. He grabbed her cloak’s collar and raised the hood of her cloak. Ciara pulled on the beak of her hood and gazed at the apple on her hand. She rubbed her belly and rubbed her knees.

Nolan stretcher his legs towards where he tied the horse. He untied the reins, pulled the horse close to the fire. He produced water on his left palm and offered his hand to Ciara. Ciara took his hand, and let herself be carried on the saddle of the horse. She held on to the horse and stared at the village nearby. Nolan pulled the horse, wending his way through the carved dirt part, passing through the grass pastures.

A man wearing oriental robes, who sported a wicket hat, hailed at him. Nolan nodded at the man and continued his way until he saw two guards standing guard in front of a wooden gate. They had spears in their hands, and they walked to Nolan. Nolan towered them, he looked them in the eye and turned towards Ciara.

The guards looked at the hooded Ciara, their eyes staring at the unnatural eyes, and the burnt mark on the left part of her face. The guards scanned her from top to bottom, before gesturing with their chin, tapping the butt of their spear. The two entered, many eyes gathered on them. Nolan pulled the reins of the horse and went to search for a shop that sold herbs.

Children were playing with wicker dolls. Wives were carrying baskets, staring at Ciara, smiles blossoming on their faces. Ciara waved at them, weird out that that they don’t even bother about her face. Then she recalled the many faces that she had seen since coming. A month ago, before he stopped talking, he had explained and introduced the world with happy, yet bitter about his tone.

Nolan soothed the horse, he tugged the reins and tied on a beam supporting the house. There was an old woman, whose hair was gray, wrinkled, and one eye blind. She looked at the two, her eye looking at Nolan, before spotting Ciara. She tapped her pipe and walked near the horse. Nolan ambled near the horse and helped Ciara get down.

Nolan stood without a word beside Ciara. The old woman raised a brow and looked at Ciara instead. She gestured her closer, her wrinkled hand caressing her cheeks.

“You are beautiful,” the old woman said.

“Thank you.”

The old woman straightened her skirt, before kneeling, and leaning her ear on Ciara’s growing belly. She closed her eyes, and listened in, before standing up, and dusting her skirt off the dust.

“Get inside, it must have been quite a travel.”