Stirring Dreams: Twenty weeks later
The large glass window in front of her post almost made up for the bore of River’s everyday work. It almost made up for her measly pay and horrible boss.
Almost. Windows couldn’t solve everything, no matter how pretty the view was.
River sighed. She automatically stirred her pot, wishing she wasn’t stuck working at a fancy restaurant which was more concerned with the celebrities it served than its employees, who made the whole business possible.
But that was Malvolia for you. Fancy places who flaunted grand titles and gave none of the credit to the hard-working citizens who made up their dark basements and reputations.
She turned her head at stared out the window, looking past the Malivor Mountains to what lay at its base – the Imperial City.
River had never been to the capital, only heard stories about it, but even the silhouette of the city against the background of the sunset seemed majestic and imposing.
She sighed and turned her gaze away from the Imperial City to the rest of Malvolia, which spread out before her like the ocean. Little lights blinked off and some houses were dark, but the twilight hours were when Malvolia thrived.
Which didn’t bode well for River or the rest of the kitchen staff. Cooking for a normal crowd was never fun, and the high stress of the waiters and the temperament of her boss meant rush hour was even worse.
A door banged open, and River flinched, snapping her gaze down to the vat of soup she oversaw. She didn’t want to draw the ire of whoever had just walked in.
“Staff!” came a call, and River tried to drain the pool of dread forming in her stomach. What would they get into trouble for now?
She tried to calm her shaking hands and gently laid the ladle on the ceramic plate next to the stove. After turning the gas to its lowest point, she left the large copper pot and window to see what exactly she was dealing with.
Most of the staff was already gathered around someone – a man with tousled brown hair and a dark gray suit. His shoes were polished to perfection, his eyes a brilliant blue.
River relaxed a little. Sark was the nicer of the two managers, but he was still known to get snappy. There even were rumors that he hid his real name because it was too terrible to hear aloud. Now, however, his eyes were wide, and he looked stressed.
“Alright,” he said once all the workers had gathered around, “We have a top researcher from the Institute here, and we must prepare our finest. We must make a good impression, so that they will come back and hopefully spread good tales about us.”
River’s elation at an Institute researcher coming to Malvolia was squashed by the bitterness of the fact that once again, her higher-ups cared more about their guests than their workers. If it weren’t for the fact that she was broke, River would have quit a long time ago.
Sark was divvying up assignments, and River held her breath. Hopefully she’d get a task that was as automatic as stirring soup, but knowing her luck, she wouldn’t.
She was right.
“River and Sunflower will be in charge of cutting our vegetables.” When neither one of them moved, Sark’s eyes narrowed. “Now!” he snapped, and River hurriedly rushed to her station.
A young brunette followed her, looking a little lost. “Could you please direct me to the pumpkins?” she asked, wringing her hands. She clearly looked extremely nervous.
River answered with a soft smile. “Of course,” she said. She pointed to large marble double doors, which led to the walk-in pantry. “It’ll be in there, in the door on the left. Oh, and can you grab squash as well?”
The girl, who must have been Sunflower, nodded and walked off, looking a bit scared as she dodged a cart. River shook her head fondly. She remembered being just as lost as Sunflower, but she’d grown used to it.
She hoped Sunflower wouldn’t stay the years she had.
Sighing, River grabbed a few cucumbers and a sharp silver knife before traversing the counter until she found the right cutting board.
Why would an Institute researcher come to Malvolia, of all places? There were plenty more exciting cities to visit, even if they were way out in the countryside.
Of course, that depended on what type of researcher it was. River had spent most of her childhood dreaming about joining their ranks. She knew they spent time on anything and everything.
Psychology might have been what they were after; Malvolia was a hub for poor treatment and entitlement that would give any psychologist a field day.
It might not spread the good tales Sark was hoping it would, but maybe some awareness would be raised about the conditions Malvolia thrived in, and some influential person would come and save all its workers from the darkness they were trapped in.
“How long have you been here?” asked a voice, snapping River out of her thoughts and back into the bright lights of the kitchen.
River blinked and turned to the large brown eyes of Sunflower, who was setting squash and pumpkins down on the counter next to River’s cutting board.
She was a lot younger than River had assumed, with a face that still hadn’t grown out of its youth yet. The fact that Sunflower was probably still a teenager and going through this made River feel sick.
River tilted her head back. “Too many years to count,” she said. “But I’d say eleven, if you don’t count the half-year when I first arrived.”
Sunflower’s already big eyes widened further. She looked away, staring at the squash in front of her. “Will I stay that long?”
River hesitated. “If you’re not successful enough.”
“But surely this place pays well enough for you to be successful. I mean, a top researcher from the Institute coming here can’t be just a fluke.” Sunflower's eyes were confused yet sad as she looked back at River.
River set down her knife, checking that Sark was not able to see her, and sighed. “Listen. Malvolia is a game. If you’re rich, you win. If you’re not wealthy enough to own places like this, you lose.
“The owners – the ones who win at this game – aren’t going to let us have our own pieces on the game board. I’m still struggling even after so many years here, and I’m sure it’s the same for many others. It’s a cleverly designed trap for people like us.”
River didn’t want to sugarcoat it too much. After all, Sunflower would eventually learn the hard truths of Malvolia, one way or another. At least this way the girl would be prepared.
“Oh,” Sunflower said, looking crestfallen. “It’s just that… Malvolia of the stories was supposed to be fair and just. It’s why I moved away from Amaris to be here.” She gazed at the window River had been looking through moments before.
River smiled. “Well, you can still get out if you do it soon. The Imperial City isn’t far from here; I’ve heard the people and philosophies there are much fairer and more just, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Sunflower returned her gaze to her knife. “Why haven’t you gone?” she asked softly, the slicing of her knife barely audible over the chaos of the kitchen.
“I don’t have the funds. I could quit my job here and try, but if I don’t make it to the Imperial City, then I’m out of a job and stranded,” River said. “It’s not worth it; I’ve already waited far too long. My golden opportunity is gone - but yours isn’t.”
Sunflower nodded thoughtfully, not looking up from her careful slices of cucumber and carrots.
River sighed and returned to her own work. She hoped she’d said enough to convince Sunflower to leave. No one deserved the treatment Malvolia seemed to praise, and certainly not one as young as Sunflower.
The rest of the twilight passed in silence, and soon the large piles of vegetables stacked in front of them dwindled down to nothing.
“Good job,” Sark said, giving them an approving nod as he swept by their station. He’d been making rounds for a while now, and River suspected it was his way of pacing.
“Do you have any more work - mmph!” Sunflower glared at River as she put her hand over the younger girl’s mouth.
“Never ask for work,” she hissed. “Never.”
Sark was staring at the two of them curiously. “What is it?” he asked Sunflower. “I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Sunflower fidgeted in her apron as River removed her hand. “I was wondering when the researcher is going to arrive,” she lied.
Sark’s expression tightened. “Any moment now. It’s good that you’ve finished your work. Unlike almost everyone else working here. Sometimes I’m convinced they fake everything.”
River nodded. “It seems like it, doesn’t it? I try to work hard and earn my place here, but it seems like not everyone does.”
Smiling a more genuine smile now, Sark placed a hand on her shoulder. “Well, that’s excellent.” He cast one last glance over them before stalking off to inspect another pair, this on chopping bright red apples.
“Oh, that was horrible,” River said, shaking herself out. “I thought I’d have to keep that up forever.”
Blinking, Sunflower stared up at River. “You lied?” she asked, her voice small and quiet.
Suddenly uncomfortable, River nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean, it’s the only way I’ve been able to survive eleven years here. Everyone else is gone, and everyone here will likely leave too.”
“I’m not a particularly good liar. My mother says lying is something horrible,” Sunflower said. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “But I guess it’s the game.”
Seeing Sunflower’s eyes harden made River feel odd. She’d lied plenty of times before, had justified herself to other people, had told other people lying was the only way to survive, but Sunflower’s quiet acceptance woke something in River.
She bit her lip, then grabbed Sunflower’s arm. “We’re getting out of here tonight,” she vowed. “We’ll go to the Imperial City.”
Sunflower looked at River with shocked eyes. “What?” she whispered.
River looked across the room to the large silver doors that hid dozens of fancy guests, all of them oblivious to the misery going on right under their noses. She tightened her grip on Sunflower’s arm. “We’re getting out of here if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Spring 
Night Weather: 
Flood Moon: 
