Ever since childhood, Evelyn Peterson has looked to the sky, where clouds shape and fade away, revealing messages of the past and the future. As a historian, she should not be so whimsical, and as a citizen of Reilach, she shouldn't be so reckless.

Gone are the days when Reilach revered history, literature, and philosophy scholars. The palaces and libraries coveted only the brightest minds to lead citizens down a path to please the gods. It's said they were once a land of magic so strong that the other realms trembled.

But, that slowly faded away over the centuries. The other realms became strangers, and then lost realms spoken of as places of myth. Magic became a rarity, coveted, and then despised.

Evelyn wouldn't dare tell anyone she read the clouds. She'd seen what the Bundtsteg does to those who whisper of magic. There was no need to burden another with her secret or develop her skills beyond gazing at the clouds.

"All that is left is a long life," she muttered. "The hidden curse."

At the young age of seventy, she accepted her lot. The sun warmed her tanned skin as she lay on the dead grass in her economically sized backyard, burnt edges scratched her skin. The sparse rain over the last year ended about six weeks ago, leaving the drought as a reminder of how much the gods hate Reilach.

She could go back inside to avoid the humidity, but it wouldn't be much better. Her electricity allowance didn't allow for air conditioning during the day. And, she didn't need Buntsteg knocking on her door because she'd created a life debt. Better to sweat in a small backyard than die in a field.

Soon, her teaching would start again. Then, she could use whatever was left over from the debts for the house and her education to haggle for more—more food, more electricity, just more.

"What to eat?" Evelyn muttered.

A cloud formed into what looked like a squirrel before fading away in the heat.

The woman's brown eyes widened and she laughed at the sky. "I'm not that desperate!"

No clouds formed.

"Fine," she sighed. "You know, the fates could have been nicer to me. Maybe gifted me with something other than talking to you."

Clear blue skies, humidity, and warm rays mocked her. Maybe she could have done more with just a touch of water magic, but that's her rebellious side speaking.

Evelyn sat up from the grass, wiping the dead remnants away. Then, her hands went to her hair, and she pulled the hair tie from the sloppy bun.

"Shit!" She screamed, pulling on her hair.

The circular demon hair-tie entangles itself within a stray knot.

Evelyn screamed into the humid air and threw her shoulder length hair to the side. "I'm hot. I'm hungry. And, now I just want to chop all my hair off!"

More haircuts. When the payments came through, she would get more haircuts. But not too many haircuts, because the last thing Evelyn needed was for her money debts to foreclose into life debts.

Her lips pressed together. No one talked about those anymore. She tried. By the gods, she tried.

Stop being so dramatic, her mother chided all those years ago. You're spending too much time with those texts. If you want more, maybe you should have chosen something more practical than history.

"What I wouldn't give for a dragon to come burn this all to hell," she muttered. "That would show her what history could do."

A rustle of the wind made Evelyn pause. Did someone hear her? Would they take her away like they did the others? It's definitely time to go inside.

Evelyn pushed on her knees, rising from the ground. She brushed dead grass off her tank top and shorts, then took the few steps required to open her back door.

Her home was quaint—a one-bedroom wooden structure with chipped blue paint and all the basics a single woman could need. Sure, most of her furniture was second hand, but it was still hers. And she worked for it.

Wood scraped across the tile floor as she pulled a wooden chair back from the small circular dining table to sit down. Her fingers worked through the knot in her hair, skillfully.

A few minutes later, the elastic circle plops onto the wooden table.

"I win!" Evelyn screamed. "All hail the empowered indentured servant who took down the elite by not buying more hair-ties!"

She placed the hair tie on her finger and pulled it back. The elastic on the circle strained as it flew across the small room. Her eyes widened as it fell into the crack between the wall and couch.

"Fuck!" Her hands fell to rest on her hips. "Well, I guess that's karma for gloating."

The next fifteen minutes are spent fighting with furniture and coming to terms with her level of dirtiness as she recovered the hair-tie. But, on the positive side, she found three more hair-ties and enough spare coins that she'd be able to buy milk at the market. Maybe some fruit. If there is fruit... and milk. It's been a while since she had milk that didn't spoil in two days. Sometimes District 4 got lucky, unlike the lower districts who got no milk and—

"Don't be negative," Evelyn chided. "Positive energy. Just positive energy. Check the cupboards, grab a snack, go to the market. Simple."

Just go through the motions and stay out of trouble. Her gaze unconsciously landed on the stacks of historical texts and other novels scattered on the floor in organized chaos.

She could use the ones on the left to plan her history lessons. The ones on the right, she needed to hide in case there was a raid. She'd done her best to conceal the banned history behind covers of mythology and romance covers. But, sometimes people actually opened and read books instead of glancing at the cover. Evelyn didn't want to let her late professor down by losing the books she died for; nor did she want someone to mistake hoarding as resistance.

Evelyn tore her gaze away and returned to the kitchen. In the cupboard, she found an almost expired bar. She quickly ate it before gathering the newly discovered coins. Her pocket jingled with possibilities as she braided her hair.

If she hurried, maybe she'd get something good at the market.

***

Evelyn was wrong. The market depressed her. Merchants sat on stools, motioning towards sad-looking lettuce and bruised apples. The milk price had gone up another silver piece since she last came two weeks ago.

"This drought is going to starve out Zones 5 and 6," a male merchant with some of his lower teeth missing hissed to Evelyn.

Her knuckles whitened around an orange. Evelyn exhaled slowly, examining the fruit. Her eyes scanned their surroundings before returning her attention to the fruit.

"It's that bad?" She finally whispered in return.

Don spat on the ground before checking around him for the navy uniform of a Bundtsteg officer. "I heard even the northern fields haven't gotten rain." Wood creaked as he leaned forward. "They say it's the curse."

Evelyn pressed her lips together. Don's eyes twinkled, as if he could hear all the words she dared not say. It didn't matter if she agreed there was a curse. Or, if she had texts that spoke of its origin. That would only condemn her.

"Mmm," Evelyn hummed, non-committal as she grabbed a sack of decently priced lentils. "I'll have to check what the history books say about it."

"I'm sure you already know," Don laughed.

The historian placed two oranges and a bag of lentils on the table. Don scanned the items and smiled.

"A gold and two silvers," he stated with his hand held out.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "One gold and a silver," she countered.

Don placed a hand over his heart, wood creaking as he leaned back. "Oh, the ways you try to break an old man's heart!"

She snorted. "You're not even one hundred."

Evelyn placed her coins in his hand. He closed his hand around hers.

"Go see, Daphne," he whispered. "I heard he got one of the freshest milk shipments and some interesting seeds."

She squeezed his hand and nodded. "Will do."

Evelyn passed the stalls of second-hand clothes and heavily discounted shoes on her way to Daphne's shop at the end of the row. Few shoppers filled the streets, a sign she isn't the only one with limited finances.

Daphne always intrigued Evelyn. The woman's shop has been a staple at the end of the row for years. She always found a way to acquire fresh produce and other rare objects. No one spoke of how or why. Sometimes, it's best not to ask questions.

Evelyn paused outside a twin set of doors with cracked red paint. She gave the right one a push. A bell rang as she entered the shop.

A skinny female with curly red hair peeked around a shelf. Evelyn had never asked Daphne's age, because it seemed rude to do after someone turned 200, and they hadn't aged since their thirtieth birthday.

"Hey Eve," Daphne greeted. "Whatcha need?"

"Milk," Evelyn replied, adjusting the straps on her shoulder with the oranges and lentils.

Daphne nodded and pointed to the back. "Freshest is on the bottom shelf."

Evelyn called a thank you over her shoulder as she moved to the back of the store. She grasped the refrigerator handle and pulled it open. The cold air blasted on her sweat-drenched skin in a welcomed reprieve from the heat.

"Don said you had some seeds," Evelyn called over her shoulder.

Daphne snorted. "Don is a gossiping idiot who needs to keep his mouth shut."

Evelyn laughed as she grabbed the milk, double checking the date before closing the refrigerator door. She hadn't seen milk this fresh since—well, since she lived with her parents in Zone 2. How did Daphne manage this?

"Well, no worries here. I've learned my lessons about talking already," Evelyn replied, placing the milk carton on the counter. "And, anyway, who'd want to plant seeds in this drought?"

Daphne shook her head as she pulled out a small bag containing three blue seeds. "These bring the water," she whispered.

Evelyn looked at the pinky-nail-sized blue seeds, glinting in the light. They were unlike anything she'd seen before.  Suddenly, Evelyn wished for more banned texts at her disposal.  Maybe a historian, or a—No, Eve.  She needed to stop being curious.

"They look interesting," Evelyn commented after a moment.

Daphne snorted. "Of course they do, they're the last ones."

Evelyn opens her mouth, but the question fails to form on her lips as if it had been plucked from her brain. Instead, she placed her bag on the counter.

"And, that's why they shouldn't be advertised on the fucking street." Daphne hissed a string of curses. "The old man is going to get us all killed."

Evelyn shrugged as Daphne glanced outside the window of her shop. She understood some still believed magic could help. But, apart from some cloud reading or sparks of extra energy, Evelyn had seen little to support magic saving them.

This was the land of the lost—the hot, humid, unfair, existence of persons left over.

Evelyn looked up as the soft hum of Daphne's air conditioner cut. "I guess you do lose energy now and then."

"Two gold pieces for the milk," Daphne stated as the bell to the shop rang.

Evelyn passed her last two gold pieces over with a sigh before putting the milk in her bag. She had enough to hold over before the first paycheck came in. Evelyn bowed her head to the two male Bundtsteg officers entering Daphne's shop. Their navy uniforms appeared slightly faded after days in the sun, but still better than the rags she wore.

"Have a good day," the one on the left said as she passed.

Evelyn forced a smile as she hurried away. Did they hear them talk about the seeds? Will Daphne be okay? And, damn it, she spent all her coins. But, it was just found money—extra, really—and she spent it wisely.

The mantra echoed in her mind on the way home. Her hurried steps caused sweat to bead down her back as she adjusted the strap of her bag.

"Please don't be bad," Evelyn sang as she opened her front door. "This isn't a waste. An indulgence, not a waste."

She rushed into the kitchen to deposit her precious milk in the fridge, followed by her oranges. Evelyn paused. At the bottom of her bag is the clear package with three tiny blue seeds and a folded note.

Evelyn dropped the bag on the counter before she pulled the note out. She unfolded the paper to reveal an elegant script: Plant under moonlight.

"Crazy people are going to get me killed," Evelyn scoffed, throwing the note to the side. "I need to go read a book."

***

Word Count: 2,119

Please forgive the long chapter.  I hope y'all enjoyed reading! :)