21st Summer 513
It was early in the day, barely at the end of the dawn rest. Most of Lhavit’s citizens were asleep in their beds. All except for Rathe and Ajah.
He yawned, rubbed the sleep out of his bleary eyes and peered around the corner, into the kitchen.
There was a giant skyglass bowl overflowing with yatani perched on the counter of his workstation. On the other side of the kitchen, five more bowls just like it waited for him. Ajah must have run out of room to stack anymore of the fruit in Rathe's narrow workspace.
At times like this, the endless workload of a prep cook tested his resolve. How badly did he really need the few kina he scraped together from this job?
Badly. There’s nothing else out there. Been over and around it a hundred times already.
He knew it was true too. Lhavit was full of people who were smart. People who could read right. Ones who didn’t get confused by numbers or letters. Nobody needed someone like him. Rathe was lucky to have the job that he had. He needed to suck it up. It might not have been the shop of his dreams, but it kept him out from under the bridges and his honor up off the floor.
That and the fact that I’d starve-to-death in less than a season.
Which, for someone with his healthy appetite, was the worst way to go.
Every dawn that he worked after sleeping a few chimes too few, he had the same argument with himself. Yet, he still worked at The Nook. Might have been that he was as dull as the knives Ajah wanted him to saw apart the food with.
He picked up a yatani, tore off a piece of its juicy flesh and shoved it in his mouth savoring the burst of flavor on his dry tongue. A dribble of it ran down his chin and dripped onto his clean white tunic.
That just proved his point. I'm a hazard with no sleep, he thought, as he grabbed a cloth and wiped away the mess.
It was too late. The stain was already setting in when he heard Ajah's voice. Even her gentle tone drifted clearly out into the kitchen, all the way from the dining room because the two rooms were practically on top of each other, separated by only a thin wall.
Rathe froze. Despite the clarity of the sound, individual words were harder to make out. His brain liked to dance around their meaning.
Was she asking for more prep? Already? He stared down at the days’ worth of work in front of him. The fruit hadn’t even been started yet.
He listened carefully, tuning everything else out so that he could memorize every word, as he couldn't write them down. It took a lot of effort and it made him very tired. He had to pay attention to every syllable, constantly fighting to keep them from twisting backwards.
Her laugh startled him out of concentrating and he lost it. He had no idea what she'd said. If she asked him to repeat it, he was petched.
