All In A Days Work

I push to my feet, and for once, I am not covered in blood, but instead I wear a thin coating of dust. This place is filthy, unused items, wood, weapons, sheaths, bottles of booze and countless other forgotten things, once likely thought important, now sitting idle and unused. It becomes obvious to me, that he rarely stayed here, and that it was more just a place to keep his things, and not a place he called home.

The apartment would be nice, if it were not for the clutter, so I spend hours tidying and scrubbing and sorting through belongings that are not my own, until I can once more see the floor to sweep and then wash it clean. I have promised the space to my sister, to keep her safe, to let her rest, and I will not have her and the pups coming in here with it looking like this.

As I spend an hour on my knees, washing a faded spill from the otherwise good carpeting, I think about how it is that this place came to be mine. He has gone...he was determined to depart, and nothing I said made any difference. I can not say I understand his reasons, for it has been a long time since I understood anything at all about him. But when he asked me to take the place, and keep it going, take care of it...I could only accept. I would do nearly anything for him, I never once stopped caring. I am not sure he realizes that, but now, I fear it is too late to make him know it.

My knees ache by the time I am finished, such domestic chores not exactly within my usual skill set, but I manage to get the place in shape, and I nod with satisfaction at my efforts. She will be safe here while she sorts herself out, so will the children, and that means everything.

I have other tasks to get to today, and the list seems to grow every time I blink. The fields, as always require my attention, demons seem as thick as ever even though Darkfall has slipped away from us finally. Thankfully, I have a little help out there these days, and it frees me from time to time to take care of other pressing responsibilities. Now, I have to put my mind to learning an entirely new skill, something I have no interest in, but I promised I would do my best, and so...that is what I will do. I still need to track down that wayward Cloak..and ask if he still wishes me to teach combat training in the arena, and remember to feed that damned bird once in awhile. All this, I try to keep straight while I help a friend build a village.

Yes a village, a whole village, a settlement for his people, should there actually be any left. He lives and moves and drives himself upon that hope. I can not see how anyone will come, but if it makes him happy, then I will do what I can.

As I close the door, thinking about what furniture still needs to be put in place within, it occurs to me, that I still have ingredients to collect. The plague is not dead yet, and I for one plan to have a few things put away in case they are needed. I mentally add that to my ever growing 'to do' list, and walk though the kitchen and into the rowdy sounds of the tavern beyond.

"uhh...Miss..Mork..err..Miss..Rashka.." the barkeep calls, uncertain on exactly how to address me. "just Rashka is fine" I point out, allowing him a few moments of my thinly stretched time, "well..its just that we are low on rum and whisky..". I nod, and add it to the list, "I will get to it as soon as I can...I promise" I offer to him before slipping out the door before someone else tries to add to it.

It is just getting dark, but there is no sleep for me just yet. There is simply too much to do.