Лилла Сомн
Coffee Stained Pages. Volume 1
Day 1. Ami in the hole
Ami walked to the edge of the forest, thoughtful.
The light was gloomy, but inside, it seemed, a luminary of hope began to rise. An annoyed kantinian waved it away.
“Please roll back into the swamp. And don't show your face again. How many times have you done this suddenly, when it seemed that I was going to succeed? How many times have I had this vain hope”…
… However, the news was interesting…
The Temples of Prime, Omill, Kantine and Zeth exchanged service people.
“To improve networking and simplify interactions,” is written in the general message. Well… A very vague formulation, what can one say.
But you don't give a damn if you've been chosen to represent the Kantine Department.
And we have to go to Omill! Not bad! To put it mildly…
And it’s absolutely awesome when you are ready to go literally anywhere, just not to stay here.
What does Ami remember about Omill from her last business trip?
It's a pretty quiet and nice place, there's not much lawlessness and the Temple staff is small. They are mainly involved in logistics, checking and accounting for cargo passing through town and patrolling the local woods to see if anyone has got lost or into trouble…
Something like that. Sounds a bit boring. But truly anything is more fun than the usual local land disputes and accounting for food shipments in caravans.
… Exchange of service people, hmm.
Some of these poor losers will end up here. Although for many, this is not such a big problem. There is even such a concept as the 'simple life', which people from all over the Mainland come to Kantine in search of.
To live freely, to build one's own big house in the middle of vast fields. To work for oneself on one's own plot of land, to be dependent on no one, to grow one's own food, to eat heartily, to admire nature at sunset, to sleep well after a hard light. To communicate with ordinary people, simple, straightforward hard workers, nothing extra…
At least that's what it looked like in theory.
Ami's life did not resemble this bookish idyll at all. She avoided construction sites, harvesting and socialising. Maybe that's why life here has never been “easy” for her.
Perhaps for some people, it was a good idea to calm down after an eventful life. But for the young, active Ami who was born here and had already had enough of this “simplicity" and predictable regularity, this was the real “complexity“.
In addition to external conflicts, it was torn apart by numerous internal ones. Excessive “peace” also does terrible things to people. Especially those who are not yet ready for it. Those who have not yet had enough of all the worries that distract those who are not yet ready to calm down and watch the chthonic monsters that live there begin to emerge from the depths of their souls…
Probably, Ami’s “replacement”, who will arrive from Omill, will be somewhat similar to Ami herself, who loves courier work, does not disdain operational work and knows not only her native language.
However, it is not difficult to learn the most popular languages: Kantinian, Omillian, Zetish and Primish. They are grammarly so close to each other that it is unclear how learning languages could even become a problem for someone.
Only if this one doesn’t want to. Or a group of people, not finding other, more constructive points of contact, decides to form a “commune of the chosen ones” on this basis.
So… Primish language is the closest to Kantinian. The language of the persecuted witches has not deviated much from the original. The differences were only in a number of words – their pronunciation and use. And they are just as big as in other languages, and not as big as the Kantinians wanted to show with all their appearances, demonstrating that they do not understand the speech of strangers at all.
“Can’t these clayheads speak normally! Why distort our words so stupidly? Sounds like a moron.” – was the aunt's vivid indignation.
At a young age, as was her sad habit, the addicted Amelia was unable to choose one language and had begun to study them all at once. The textbooks were hard to find, but nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it. You can find it even in the shed of your house.
So, with youthful enthusiasm, Amelia set about studying everything she could get her hands on, and soon began to confuse languages, unconsciously switching from one to the other, causing another barrage of ridicule.
Even not mentioning this, Ami was already considered quite strange.
But the purpose was to make some efforts to end up speaking only Kantinian. She wanted to see the whole Mainland.
It is true that her pronunciation of non-native languages left much to be desired, as she taught them from old, half-decayed books that she was only able to find in the city Archives thanks to her perseverance.
And… with a huge help of notes from mother found in the barn. Which she was generally forbidden to approach. But once again her persistence paid off.
Then… another difficulty arose. Well, where without it. There was nowhere and no one to practise on.
For obvious reasons, aliens rarely appeared in Kantine, which was unfriendly to neighbouring witch cities. So Amelia had to grow up, enter the service of the Kantine Department of the Order, and give herself the opportunity to continue her own education. She acted as a courier between the towns, accompanying the trade caravans, and asking them for some assistance.
She was in the service of all kinds of business trips. It was the only one of her initiatives that her own department was enthusiastic about.
But still, it was beyond their comprehension. How could anyone want to tear themselves away from their native fields, drag themselves through hunger and lack of comfort to gnats knows where? Then they waste precious time on such nonsense as studying those idiotic, distorted dialects of those filthy “for-the-next-eternity-not-to-see-their-faces” witches. There were few. To be more precise, there were practically no such people willing.
And now… Well. Theoretically. Sort of… Kinda…
For Ami, there is the opportunity to go for half a big cycle with joy, envy and curiosity to have a close look at the life of such interesting and attractive “filthy witches” and to improve her language skills in Omill.
The vagabond always carried a few dried beans and a few trinkets from her travels to remind her that her way of life wasn't the only way. There are other ways. More interesting, more joyful, more meaningful.
Somewhere, even if it is hard to find now, there is freedom and fresh new knowledge. And the main thing is not to stop jumping.
One light you can reach it by pumping your muscles. Or you can grow into it. Or you can accept failure, but first do your best.
“Yes. It doesn't hurt to dream… It hurts a lot to fall back from a cloud. Nothing will work out again. It’s obvious. How many times has it happened that everything is going to get better, and… the bag is full of holes and gnat swamps. And no improvement of the situation at all… Our fate is still a sadistic humorist”.
Dreaming is good in this case.
Especially when life has squeezed you so tight that you can't even move, and there's nothing left but to dream. And if you really want to dream…
Then why not talk about Prime right away.
… Prime.
Ami closed her eyes.
The chic, charming city seemed like the ideal place to start a new life.
There is always a whiff of something that will provide her with a meaningful, promising and interesting existence and a worthy future.
The prospects are vast, like the unforgettable view from the cliff on which the city was built, of the endless Ocean and the equally endless and beautiful bottomless sky above. All this gave an exhilarating sense of freedom and unlimited possibilities in this incredible corner of the Continent. It is said that in the cold season, when there’s no clouds and no fog. From this height of a Mountain Prime you could see the Continent from the Wastelands almost all the way to Zeth, and even draw a map of it… Many who were able to catch this rare moment probably did.
To see the rest, one had to descend from these dizzy heights and go into the Northern Wastes beyond the high hills to Youlle or the Elven Forest. Then walk to Zeth and look over Mount Omill, go through the Great Forest.
But even if you don’t go far, Prime is a place where you can get a lot of information about anything in the Mainland without leaving the city. Practically, we can say that this is such an awesome enormous Archive.
It is not established with certainty who was more hungry for knowledge—the Prime academic witches or Ami, but the first ones, unlike her, had exactly what everyone needed. Information, which they painstakingly gathered from all possible sources and poured into the Prime Central Archive in deliciously wide streams and the Royal and University Libraries.
Knowledge here was truly power and wealth. Prime was not only a place to obtain information of a scientific, technical and magical nature, but also a large Market for trading information from all over the Mainland.
This was done by large, almost monarchical organisations like the VST Agency, as well as influential scientists and royal families, small offices and private intelligence agencies. Everyone who could was trying to find something, to find out something, to make a discovery, to profit from something… Of course, this was not without its intrigues and rivalries among the competitors.
Primers are obsessed with knowledge and information, and as it turned out, it was a valuable resource, thanks to which the city lived and prospered.
… Even for Amelia, who had no practical use for it, whose ever-hungry, inquisitive mind was in desperate need of new stimulation and nourishment, this approach was close at hand. Prime is the perfect place for people like her.
A city of ageless students. Ami walked for a long time between the buildings of the educational institutions, mingling with the crowds of students, anxiously hurrying somewhere, imagining that she was also hurrying somewhere, alone. For something meaningful and interesting… What can you get now if you go into one of those carved towers, get a stack of tablets full of tasty knowledge and disappear from this world, swept away by an exciting stream of new, tasty information. Like a speck of dust in the rays of light passing through those beautiful, infinitely varied, multicoloured windows of which there were so many in this City…
…The Kantinian sighed dreamily.
This is life! Damn it. Somewhere… Where she is not.
Well… Let’s return to some positive and pleasant thoughts, if there are any.
About food. Food for a stomach, not just food for thoughts. Food is fine, you can’t go wrong with it.
Prime includes chic restaurants and refectories. Local magical fruit dishes, famous for strange and unusual combinations, refined and simple, traditional and regularly appearing innovative, which were an eternal reason to snort for those who preferred simple and satisfying vegetable dishes from the Kantine. If Ami had enough dried herbs and grains to trade, and enough time to try everything… she would probably go mad with happiness, because there would be no more pipe dreams in her life.
Eating and wandering around the city had always been her favourite pastimes.
Here, the pleasure was multiplied tenfold. An incredibly bizarre architecture, Om houses that could hardly be mistaken for dwellings, a fairy-tale city that could already boast of magnificent views beyondeven on the approaches to the city, with a huge number of coloured stripes of fabric and ribbons stretching across the streets, fluorescent plants of different colours and glowing witch lanterns that looked absolutely fantastic at sunset, attacking the visual receptors with a rainbow of coloured pebbles on the paved paths. Incredibly beautiful stained-glass windows and shining glaze covering the buildings complete the picture perfectly.
An enchanting, hypnotic sight that for a long time took away the will and the desire to live… somewhere else.
The Om houses themselves and their interiors were the main source of pride for those who owned them. Everyone tried to build something fundamentally new and different from their neighbours. As a result, the shapes varied – from buildings that looked more like strange vegetables or local sweets, to transparent structures, looked like the crystals of the Zeth Mountains, they all attracted the eye for a long time. Witches could take some liberties with reality.
All this was already amazing, even if one had never seen one of the bright and abundant local festivals with all kinds of entertainment and delicacies…
Ami sighed enviously.
… Prime also meant for her five unsuccessful attempts to settle there, the complete collapse of all hopes for the aforementioned bright future and a dull resignation to the dark present…
“I'm going to sit here, in this beautiful place near my personal swamp, and I'm not going anywhere. I've had enough of this…”
Ami reached her only true love in these places – the soothing green edge.
… When she was a teenager, her parents threatened her to be taken to the edge of the forest and given to the elves, if she continued to be naughty. When she grew up, she did not stop being naughty. And also began to come to the Forest herself, hoping that the elves would take her.
Of course, no miracle happened. Again.
But Ami found a wonderful place for herself, which helped her a lot to come to her senses and calm down.
Thoughtfully, Kantinian sat down on the log, slided down to a comfortable half-lying position, and exhaled, staring at the sky and the treetops…
… This place consoled her every time she came here with confused feelings, it was the only being that understood her, giving her, if not rest and inspiration, then mind saving indifference to the world.
…which helped her not to go mad after each successive failure…
She had already internally agreed to this swamp, a “pit” with slippery slopes, having decided in some kind of humble detachment that if she sits here until the end of her time, then so be it.
Without wasting any more strength and nerves, she will do it with maximum indifference.
She will not struggle to climb and slide down again.
… Everything is pointless. Everything is meaningless…
Everything in this life.
And Ami gave up her long-held idea of running away from here, and let herself be drawn into a boring daily routine in the form of her relatives, into plans to renovate their shared house. They lived with their whole large, unfriendly family, according to the bad old Kantine tradition.
And… That's it. Sometimes it’s just simple like that and there’s nothing else.
…And it was definitely the Bottom…
Now Amelia knew what it looked like. And could examine its slippery, viscous base in detail. Feel with her cheek the wet, viscous cold of despair slowly seeping into her core…
For there she lay, face down, turning away from the hideous, eternally inaccessible light of hope shining from above.
… Remarkable cosmetic procedures, you know. Quite effective.
Nothing is scary or unnerving. The frost is an excellent painkiller. Her life is over.
The body moves, breathes and fusses, but there is a grave cold and stillness inside it. Everyone's gone. To a better place. Empty body, empty mind. No more bold ideas. No more tries. It has not led to good results.
What's left will perform tasks and do what is necessary, but no more.
So Ami has escaped. Mentally.
'Wake her up when it's over'.
This breakdown came after her failed attempt to get a job in Prime.
Was it her fault? Yes and no. If she had witchcraft skills, things could be different, she could be a student or a service woman in any witch city she likes.
She wouldn't even have to escape her hometown. She would have simply been thrown out of here by her neighbours and relatives. And they would even give us some food for the journey. Exile would at least be an unequivocal, direct and explicit rejection. No half measures, no manipulations.
They just go. There’s not that awkward case when nobody’s interested in your presence, but nobody wants you to leave. Your relatives and homeland suddenly desperately need you. You might be useful in different weird ways. To look better against your background at least.
Since time immemorial, all Kantinians with witchcraft gifts have been banished.
“Don’t expect any good from a witch,” they said.
Well. Ami would expect. She was jealous of the exiled witches.
It could be like an endless party. You were kicked outside the Kantine and there’s no choice – stay in the familiar warmth of your swamp or get out – but one – where to go next.
Most chose obvious Prime to develop their skills and find a new place in their suddenly broadened horizons.
Exiled ones became the very witches, whose services proud Kantinians used in critical cases, forgetting about their dislikes and beliefs, their ‘unshakable’ traditions that were the bedrock of family and society.
Yeah. Comfort is much more important.
Ami could be one of the fortunate few… no, she couldn’t. Don’t believe the ones who tell you you can do everything. No you can’t.
Because life is life and everything’s not that optimistic and joyful as it first seemed, that’s what you learn when you grow up.
Without work, there is nothing to do in any big city. If you do not benefit the place and its inhabitants, no one will register you as a citizen or give you temporary accommodation.
Parasites are not welcomed anywhere. And as an ignoramus, you will soon find yourself back in the Kantine, again and again, and there is enough work for everyone, plenty of agrarian jobs in one of the largest city-states.
(and the most boring. According to Ami).
Of course, there are other options… Zeth, Lim and… just a deep Forest. Here, without human society as the main source of constant stress, everything gets easier.
The outcast feels kind of loved and supported here. Finally. Don’t know why, but it’s fine not knowing, it’s just fine here.
All these jumps, antics and attempts to escape or settle down somewhere else now look simply ridiculous. It’s good to be here. Sociophobic Amelia had troubles with people. And people are in every city. And so the problems are.
It won't magically get better anywhere except in the forest, of course. She knew it somewhere deep inside. Everything will be the same in Omill and everywhere else.
She will bring herself and her depression everywhere. It will never be easier anywhere she goes.
New attempts to catch on and adapt, new awkward situations that contribute to uniformly covering oneself with shame from head to toe. Not as plentiful as on the first visits… but still in a fairly thick layer.
There’s no magic land and no perfect people. She will always be just a rejected weirdo everywhere. For everyone. Because it is how it is.
That’s why the main skill is to choose yourself, no matter what. Be the closest to yourself, because there is no one closer.
At least this thing is under control. So. One can come to terms with all this.
At least she has a home. At least she has a job. At least she's an adult and can already argue a lot. And if she tries (to bite her tongue sometimes basically), she could even be finally accepted by family and neighbours.
And this seems to suit everyone. Her relatives have the workforce, and Ami has some stability. And she’s not disgracing herself more than usual here. It happens in old familiar ways.
So be it. She is still a Kantinian and values comfort and safety too. More than any abstract things.
Is this adulthood? Hmm. A frightening prospect, if you look at the local adults, faded from hard work and monotonous life.
That’s why this damned medium-urgent appointment to Omill looks double tempting, even if it contradicts a previously made “mature” decision…
What did she feel when the opportunity she was looking for came to her and poked her into her hands?
Grief. The most real grief. Intense bitterness and all-consuming resentment.
And now, more than anything else, she would like to throw this unsolicited handout from fate back into her maliciously laughing face.
“Take it and choke. Why even bother?! Why now?! I accepted my way and my life. I’m weak and tired. And desireless. There’s no joy or passion in it anymore… It's pure mockery.”
But… Don’t be so bitter. Maybe we shouldn’t. It’s a… small mockery, you know. Just for half a large cycle…
…That’s enough to make gnats laugh!..
What can be accomplished in half a cycle?!
“Ah… really. What? Well… for example…
You could come back to admire the wonderful giant landmark mushrooms, lovingly grown in the city by witches, softly shimmering in different colours at sunset.
Drink refreshing drinks with local water…“
Yesss… By the way, the difference is striking! Sacred water, revered even by elves we have never seen, gives to all omillian dishes and drinks a special, unique fresh and slightly sweet taste. You won't find anything like this anywhere, not joking.
“That’s my point.”
… May it all fly away to bog with gnats and swampers, anyway…
“Hold your gnats, Amelia. Do you remember that amazing huge lake?”
Of course she did. One can never forget such magnificence.
A huge pool of delicious life-giving water near the mountain. It inevitably made this city the capital of drinks and a place of pilgrimage for all those who tried once and became obsessed with Omill’s coffee.
Of course, the famous Omill green and ground coloured coffee was delivered to all the cities of the Mainland… But it lost a huge share of its flavour bouquet and witchiness, being served not fresh, just picked, not with local water and not according to any old selva recipe. And, on her own behalf, Ami would add that without being drunk at a street table in one of the many coffee shops in Omill under a huge landmark mushroom decorated with coloured lanterns. And also without local sweets – pressed from wild nuts, cereals, and berries.
… And let it all fall into the swamps…
“Ami? Can I talk to Ami, please?”
… Eat all the six-mouthed monsters…
“I already got the point. Stop it. How about… admiring the dark-skinned, smiling, joyful and slightly arrogant selvas?”
They are good looking ones. And, as if this were not enough, they are great singers and dancers, weavers, coffee makers… all of them are witches. It’s not a reason to go there, it’s a reason for envy, actually.
The internal dialogue was displaced by Ami's memories.
These witch people didn’t live or come to Kantine often. The Kantinian still remembers how surprised and enchanted she was the first time seeing a living selva. It was rude to stare, but book pictures didn’t give any idea of what the selvas were really like. It's… Like the difference between a map and a landscape.
Well, ghouls are with this damned appointment. Let it be.
Who is she trying to cheat? She will gladly get away from here again. Even being indifferent and powerless. Even if it's not for a long time.
She will just go, just because. Whatever. Even for appearance's sake. Just go there and come back with a dejected look: “I didn’t succeed again. It is fine.”
It’s not her coveted Prime, but at least it’s something.
…Damn Mother Universe with her stupid manner of care, feeding us not with something “tasty” we want, but something that corresponds to her perverted ideas about “healthy”…
…but “it is fine” again.
So, as it seems, despite the violent internal protests and seething hatred, there were obviously many good reasons for going to Omill.
What made Ami especially happy was that she would supposedly leave Kantine before the start of the Fertility Festival, hated to the point of gnashing teeth.
She almost forgot about it. Then… It was worth a lot!
It was even possible to simply go to Omill under this pretext and quickly come back here after that to continue to rot here.
At least minus one time of stupid songs, forced fun, accelerated by ale, unfunny jokes and inappropriate and unpleasant signs of attention and literally sickening round dances!
Good good. What could be better for the psyche than the absence of odes to one’s own unwanted fertility. This place already has enough of all types of fools.
“It’s not the city’s fault that you feel bad here. And not people. They get along well with each other. It’s like you’re something foreign here.” – she reminded herself. – “And not everything is black and white. This city has its own virtues. Here, in the Mainland's food capital, you can be sure of tasty, nutritious food in abundance, quiet sunsets, walks in the Forest and flowery streets.”
Alrighty, but in order to try to avoid one Fertility Fest, one could agree to almost anything. Now we have no doubts.
Yes, it's a big light for the locals. Many people look forward to it, and decorate their houses with bouquets of beautiful leaves and carved fruits, and prepare special foods and drinks. They get beautiful tablecloths and draperies, and dress themselves up too. Almost everyone here enjoys the lively jamboree, even people from neighbouring towns come to see it. Ami saw enough.
What kind of allergy is it? What's so terrible about it? Why was she clinging to it now, when it was just happening in her head? Why not just walk by indifferently if you're not really interested? Otherwise it means you're still "interested", you know, but in a perverted way. What is she resisting? Why?
No answers. But she can't deny her eagerness to stay away from these pleasures. And she's a great master of playing dead.
If something is systematically imposed on her, she will do her best to systematically avoid it.
Additional reason to escape the Fertility Festival is that those lights made their mother nervous too. And even more withdrawn. This was something they had in common, but it didn’t bring them together at all.
Every big cycle Yvette simply locked herself in her room with a supply of food, tea, and… a hygiene bucket. And no amount of screams, threats, or persuasion from her relatives could lure her out of there.
However, persuasion-threats-screams were another festive tradition, repeated from cycle to cycle, as stable as the very presence of a swamp Festival.
No one planned to stop it. Everyone seemed to love this boggy theatre.
Even the dialogues have not changed over time. Immortal recognized classic. And nobody ever got tired of this unfresh scenario.
The mother was asked not to disgrace herself in front of her neighbours. She answered in a calm voice that she would not disgrace herself, since from here she would not be able to greatly harm everyone who congratulated her on her still fertile age and the ability to reproduce further. She only went out at night to empty the bucket and threatened to douse its contents on anyone who interfered with her self-isolation.
Ami winced.
Every cycle of her life she felt as if she had already been doused from this same bucket. Desire to quickly remove herself far far away from home and the glorious traditions, ancestral memory and great city became almost invincible again. To find herself as far as possible from the concentration of those toxic things that already killed her morale.
Far away from the comfort of home. From the family bonds. From the mother with this permanent verbal and non-verbal hygiene bucket. Great.
On the other hand Amelia couldn’t say she doesn’t understand mother’s behaviour. It was probably painful for the older failed tramp to see her mistakes and especially one read-headed ridiculous reflection. No matter how hard she tried to forget who she was before, she wasn’t successful.
One can’t cheat one’s soul. She had to look. She had to look at all of them. Her past mistakes. Amelia was one of three. Mother made them systematically. For what’s sake? One never knows.
Maybe she believed that this would transform her from a fractious tramp into a respectable citizen. Maybe she wanted to be accepted in the house of her husband and in the city in general. But she didn’t succeed either.
And with new hope she switched to the desire to see her daughters become respectable plant growers and mistresses of the house and fields, she had never become herself.
Quite a dysfunctional family. Though… not everyone here was a failure.
Ami’s sisters were much more promising individuals. They fit well here.
Aunt Tata took her part in raising strong in body and spirit peasant women and hard workers.
For some reason this not-magic didn't work with Ami. A bad seed. You can't slap genes with a slipper, the mother should only be displeased with herself.
Can’t say Tata abandoned the attempts. Although nothing could be cut out of the grown-out part, persistent methodical attempts to tear it into shreds and sew it together in a new way were periodically renewed.
That’s why Ami tried to show herself as little as possible. Not to catch the eye of her family became her main goal, and she reached it by disappearing at work, in the Archive or, if she was really lucky, on a business trip.
And at her favourite secluded edge of the Forest, of course.
Under this delightful starry sky, among the trees and on the moss-smelling earth. Where one can stop to pretend “normal”, or try to hide away from everyone or to please someone if they got “caught”.
Isn’t it a wonder… This is probably only possible in communication with nature.
Everything is easier here. Just wander aimlessly and sing along with the voices in your head. The Forest will take you as you are, alive or dead, it doesn’t demand you to change, to “make an effort” and “stop being a bungler”, to behave, to be “as you should be” so that “it wouldn’t be ashamed in front of the sky” or something.
The Forest smelled wonderful and looked great. Maybe they must move to a Forest sometime. It has food and answers to almost everything. Perhaps they would do it in the end, because none of the other cities like her either.
Or they can travel to the Ocean! Some maps say there’s a real unimaginably huge Ocean on the other side of the Forest! Imagine!
