Is It Possible To Fill This Empty Space In Ourselves?
Chapter 6
Arsyana came out the back door of restaurant—and the only place she used to give up her catch little animals like wild rabbits or unlucky birds perched on her trap at a satisfactory price. For all the prosperity that everyone claims to see in the district, Arsyana knows more clearly that Lutua Regency is still far backward than other districts located around the state capital.
There is only one fancy restaurant that has the ability to buy wild animal meat from it at any time without a schedule or notice. If possible Arsyana wants to hand over the catch directly to the elite housing area, but those who own homes there tend to already have their own confidants and not everyone can enter the territory without an introduction.
Arsyana does not want to be too social and close to the community around—both in the village and the district, she does not know when she has to go again. Also it is somewhat annoying if one tries to force his way into his personal space and to live in a society means the same thing leads to the lack of luxury.
Perhaps that was also the reason for letting the newcomer man settle down temporarily to recuperate. Those who are accustomed to enduring themselves sting know the importance of personal space and the person clearly understands when to stop asking questions or make his presence not become so large that it feels intrusive. Arsyana appreciates that or she has already expelled Ernest a long time ago. Duh, he is not a good person who just keeps quiet and bears his discomfort. Arshana is a selfish person and she admits it.
Looking up at the bright blue sky and the cloud clumps that exist, he said, Arsyana clucked bitterly when she remembered her sudden tolerance attitude this morning that made her go out and walk a bit slower than usual—ah was considering the man's wounds. He should write flowers for this.
Moving away from the restaurant, Arsyana again stepped towards the center of the market and intended to replenish the necessary needs. He bought rice—he changed his staple food from yams and the like every two or three days, some spices and seasonings he did not plant, candles that needed to be refilled, and so on, not to miss the sugar and tea—there is still coffee left at home, as well as a little snack of wet cakes that he saw the hawker.
After a long time in the core area of the market Arsyana moved to a quiet but more regular area, he intended to buy soap either for bathing or washing. Although it was more expensive than the items he had bought, Arsyana still chose to have it. He can compromise with food— as long as it is filling and nutritious though not tasty, also get used to living anywhere—he will make it as appropriate as possible, but for health as long as he can work on it then he will do.
Since he knew the benefits of this soap, that item was several tens—or hundred? last year could only be used and circulated among doctors and other health figures. This item itself has become a common commodity in the State of Baruun and was brought into the country a few years before the great war more than 10 years ago however, at that time it was still used by themselves or the natives of the upper class.
Only after this country declared independence from the puppet government of Baruun State, Paxa decided to spread soap recipes and make it a common item that can be purchased by the public even though the price is still quite expensive.
Arsyana does not care about war, politics, or who rules the country, but she can acknowledge Paxa's current concern for her people. Although it is subtle and slow but the change is there. Maybe that was also the reason why he—Paxa was forced to do that great war. Not only to become an independent leader who is out of control of the New State but also to create change for his country.
Arsyana recalled a smiling face but exuded sadness at the sight of the moon in the night sky. Who said calmly even though the dagger was threatening around his neck. I have failed with my responsibilities as the leader of the country, even until I die I can only see my people suffer.
Stopping stepping and looking up at the still-bright sky, catching glimpses of the people walking past her, Arsyana wonders why the man felt sadness and despair over his failure with so-called responsibility. Because Arshana's first failure with responsibility did not give her a bitter and sorrow but rather a relief she never knew she could feel. What makes them different?
Feeling a light blow on the side of her shoulder sent Arsyana out of the memories of the past, she turned to the person who had just passed by and accidentally bumped into him. Arsyana threw an apologetic smile and the person nodded lightly as she continued walking away, it was her fault for stopping halfway.
Getting rid of the old useless thoughts, Arsyana continued her intentions and walked towards the stall that provided the hygiene commodity.
As soon as he got there and was about to pick out a piece of soap to buy, the corner of his eyes vaguely caught a familiar figure. Arsyana turned her head to make sure and actually found Ernest in the distance stopped and looked at him with a surprised look.
He saw the man's face become calm and walked towards him. Arsyana frowned slightly at the building not far behind Ernest, it seemed like it had just come out of there. What was that guy doing in the bookstore?
“Sorry,” said Ernest when he was in front of Arsyana, “did I pass the time?”
Arsyana looked at the guilt on that face and replied calmly, “no,” re-turned her attention to the original destination, so she, he took out two bundles of bar soap and handed them to the adult female merchant who was watching them from the back of the stall to be wrapped.
Arsyana was taking the money when the female merchant said, “soap prices are up now, to 40 Flo.”
Stopping from the movement, Arsyana frowned and looked at the woman who was wrapping her soap with leaves, “ I bought two weeks ago was still 30 Flo kak, why rise high?”
“How else, the price of the main ingredient of her soap rose,” the female merchant sighed.
“Oil becomes rare?”
The merchant looked at Arsyana for a moment before with an agitated look lowered his voice, “do you not know that many villages in several provinces in the west have been wiped out by robbers?”
The Western region of the country is a lowland area suitable for the development of oil-producing trees. If something happens there it will of course have an effect on the circulating supply.
Although his face was calm but in his heart Arshana was quite surprised to hear the news, such bandit robberies have long been unheard of since Paxa is currently carrying out a massive purge after victory in the North to ensure there are no more Baruun State soldiers in the country. Is anyone still missing?
“When did this robbery happen?”
Arsyana heard Ernest ask and turned to her, “do you know something?”
Ernest looked at Arsyana and explained, “I found some robbery news in the newspaper today.”
“Where?”
“Bukhu Province border village.”
The two turned their heads towards the female merchant when they heard a gasp, “eh?!”
“Ya,” Ernest saw the fear on the merchant's face and added news to calm him down, “Zakh has already sent an additional intermediary to there.”
“But when the incident went to the newspaper it meant that days had passed, the robber must have been hiding.”
“Zakh must have thought that too and they could have had more news than the newspapers reported so don't worry,”, “the army must have prepared however we have the advantage that the news of the robbery itself has been in the newspapers. Leaders in every region of this province will definitely be more vigilant because of it.”
“What it says makes sense,” added Ernest aims to convince, “army usually has its own faster supervisor.”
The female merchant looked a little calmer and looked at Ernest in surprise, “are you a soldier?
Ernest was stunned for a moment and took a quick glance at the woman standing with a calm face beside him, “not.”
“Ah, I thought you were a soldier because it looks like you know how they work.”
“I happen to have heard of it a little from acquaintances.”
“Once,” said the merchant woman was soft, “when the robber in the West has no news has been completed but the one here also appeared.”
“Do not panic let alone riot and also Lutua Regency is still quite far from the provincial border so that the army here has time to be more alert, he said,” said Arsyana while handing over the money he had recalculated.
The female merchant gave the soap that had been wrapped and 5 Flo from the one he received to Arsyana, “ini thank you for telling me the news in the newspaper.”
“I can't read as well as most ordinary people here. After all, it is rare to be able to meet directly with those who can read, because it is usually news from newspapers longer known if circulating sometimes it has been confused.”
“If you are sure,” respond Arsyana after a moment stunned to hear that explanation.
The female merchant smiled, “come back here again if you want to buy soap yes.”
“Ya.”
Arsyana put her soap in the bag and then gave a brief nod to the merchant before walking away followed by Ernest next to her.
For a moment the two walked silently past the various stalls and people around. Ernest glanced at the bag on Arsyana's back that didn't seem to change—stay filled unless there was no more wriggling movement in it, “do you still have something to buy?”
“No, I'm done.”
Ernest responded with a low buzz of understanding and went back to silence.
Re-entering a more crowded area, the voice of the lawhut said that market activity hardened as a background for both.
“I can carry your bag,” Ernest offers in a light tone, but in fact he is a little uncomfortable to see the woman carrying a large bag while he only walks with his bare hands.
“Are you sure?”
“I'm not that weak.”
“How about your legs?” Arsyana glanced at it flat and with a blank tone added, “not necessarily we can get a free ride again to return, are you sure walking that far with extra weight won't make your newly-improved leg sores get worse?”
Ernest stunned, “why don't we take the cart transport alone?”
“And make me pay for you? Dreaming.”
“I always felt you were too cruel for a woman.”
“If not I will be taken advantage of by a man like you.”
Ernest snorted amusedly, in fact he had never objected to Arsyana's direct words. Moreover, Ernest knows enough that in some circumstances women can be more cruel than men.
Arsyana rolled her eyes but a small smile saw the face of the man beside her become more relaxed.
The blankness of words between them afterwards somehow became more comfortable than before.
*
It took me about an hour to get back on foot. Just like the time most people take to cycle but given the different speeds used, Ernest could see just how much distance was cut by this shortcut.
Compared to the ox carts it was actually faster to walk on foot if using this breakthrough road, as long as it did not mind the more tired legs because of it.
Passing through the back door and into the kitchen, Ernest immediately picked up a cup and intended to pour water from the jug that was on the table.
“Pour me too.”
Glancing at Arsyana who did not even see it—sibuk began to remove the contents of the bag, Ernest obeyed and took another cup, “need I bring it there?” the candlestick, there were only a few steps between the table and the place where the woman was dismantling.
Arsyana glanced at him unimpressed, “put it on the table.”
“Mm.”
Ernest saw the woman arranging her things for a while before turning to the door that led inside, weighing whether to return to the room or not.
“Go open the room window so that the wind comes in,” Arsyana's command now turns to her, “also wash your hands and check if the wound is inflamed.”
Ernest glanced for a moment at the wounds on his hands and feet, “there shouldn't be any problems,” murmured but still went to the side of the jar filled with water used for indoor purposes and washed his hands in the provided place before finally leaving the kitchen to the room.
Opening the shutters so that the air entering makes the previously stuffy space feel more relieved. Ernest sat in his usual place— leaned against a wooden wall not far beside the door and pulled up the cloth of his right leg trousers so as to expose the scar there.
Frowning when looking at the redness around the scar, Ernes lightly pressed the area and breathed a sigh of relief when not feeling excessive pain even though the area was slightly hot. In addition to checking the scar on Ernest's leg also looking at the one on his arm, finding the condition of the scar on this part was much better.
Good, it should be with this circumstance not a problem to go to the district every day.
But even so Ernest did not want to take the risk by ignoring it, reaching for the ointment medicine that he had been using— was so shocked on the second day he was here the woman gave him a bottle of ointment just like that and carefully applied it to the surrounding young scar so as to give a cold sensation in the place it touches.
Putting the ointment back into place after making sure the application he was doing had been leveled, Ernest sat back down and extended his legs with a slight lift of his head to look out the window. The small trunks of trees swayed lightly in the wind causing the screeching sound of the frictional leaves.
For more than two weeks of living here Ernest began to get used to the sounds of the natural background, such as the roar of the wind that hit the leaves or the chirping of small birds with the noise of insects.
The sounds though more frequent and loud somehow no longer bother Ernest as before when the secluded little house in the corner of the village only has him as a filler emptiness or when a few years later he more often looking for shelter than not.
How ironic. He used to own a house but he was there only himself and when he was connected to a lot of people he no longer had a place to go back to. He therefore left, leaving those who had fought together by his side to rediscover where he could go home.
The only similarity between the two was that he did not particularly like the sound of nature as a background. Because it feels too quiet.
***
