An Empty Stomach and a Full Day Ahead

The baskets are heavier than they look.

The woven reeds press against my palms, the weight of them shifting slightly as I follow the woman down the cobblestone path. The scent of salt grows stronger as we move closer to the docks, the faint sound of seagulls cawing overhead mixing with the rhythmic crash of waves.

Elias walks beside me, his expression unreadable, though I can tell from the way he occasionally shifts the polearm on his shoulder that he's not exactly thrilled about manual labour.

I can't help but smirk.

"You're awfully quiet," I murmur.

Elias huffs. "Just mentally preparing myself to be a glorified errand boy."

I chuckle. "Not like we have a choice."

He exhales dramatically. "Yeah, yeah, I know. No gold, no transport, no clue where we're going. Might as well start lifting crates before we starve to death."

And as if on cue—

A low, hollow growl cuts through the air.

I freeze.

Elias does too.

The woman leading us, who had barely paid us any mind, turns slightly, raising an eyebrow.

Then—

Another growl.

Loud. Persistent.

And this time, I realise—

It's coming from me.

——

A slow silence settles between us.

I do not move.

Elias blinks once. Then twice.

And then—

He smirks.

I scowl immediately. "Shut up."

His lips twitch, but he does not shut up.

Instead, he takes an exaggerated breath, tilts his head, and—

"You know," he muses, "I was just thinking about how much I missed eating."

I glare at him.

The woman—who, until now, had been quietly observing—lets out a sharp laugh.

"Well," she says, amusement colouring her voice, "can't have you two keeling over before you even get to work."

I open my mouth, ready to insist I am fine, but—

Another growl.

Elias snorts.

I want to stab him.

The woman shakes her head, still grinning. "Come on, I'll get you something before we start. Can't have you fainting mid-task."

I grumble, shifting the baskets in my arms, but ultimately follow.

Elias follows too, far too pleased with himself.

——

The woman leads us toward a small wooden building near the docks, its exterior slightly worn from the salty air but sturdy nonetheless. The scent of fish stew and freshly baked bread drifts through the open doorway, and my stomach—traitorous thing that it is—rumbles again.

Elias grins at me as we step inside.

"Don't say a word," I warn under my breath.

He holds up a hand in mock surrender, but his eyes are still laughing.

I sigh, setting down the baskets as the woman gestures for us to sit at a rough wooden table.

"Wait here," she says, disappearing into the back.

As soon as she's gone, I turn to Elias.

"You're insufferable."

He leans back against the chair, smug. "I have no idea what you mean."

I narrow my eyes.

He tilts his head. "What? Can't handle a little hunger?"

I huff, crossing my arms. "I could. If you weren't making a spectacle out of it."

Elias chuckles, but before he can respond, the woman returns—carrying a wooden tray of food.

And all thoughts of arguing immediately vanish.

——

The bread is warm, the fish stew rich and savoury, thick with herbs and vegetables. It is simple but hearty, and when I take my first bite, the warmth settles deep in my chest, spreading through my limbs like something familiar.

Like something I have had before.

Something I should remember.

But I don't.

Because there is nothing to remember.

I eat in silence, suddenly far too aware of the emptiness in my mind—the blank spaces where memories should be.

Across from me, Elias eats too, slower than me but no less content.

And for a moment, there is nothing strange between us.

Just two people, sitting at a table, sharing a meal in a place neither of us belong to.

It is… nice.

And then—

"So," the woman says, leaning against the counter, "since you two will be working for me today, I suppose I should know your names."

I blink.

Right.

We never introduced ourselves.

Elias wipes his mouth, setting his spoon down. "Elias Verden."

I glance at him briefly before turning back. "Ume."

The woman nods, looking vaguely amused. "I'm Isolde. I handle most of the shipments that come in through Velia's docks."

Elias raises an eyebrow. "Isolde? Fancy name for a village trader."

She smirks. "And 'Elias Verden' sounds like you should be sitting in some noble's estate instead of hauling crates."

Elias grins. "Fair point."

She chuckles. "Alright, finish up. The sooner you eat, the sooner you start earning your keep."

I nod, focusing back on my food.

But as I eat, as I feel the weight of the meal settling in my stomach, I can't help but wonder.

How many times have I eaten before?

Have I ever eaten before?

I should remember.

But I don't.

I glance at Elias.

He does not have that problem.

He remembers home.

He remembers a life before this.

And I?

I do not know what it means to miss something.

Because I have never had it to begin with.