One week later.
Oliva was walking around the village with her father, the chieftain, while looking around interestedly at everything that was happening.
Even though she had grown up seeing all of it anyway, there was an endless fascination with life within her which made her look on and try to spot things she might not have seen before, even if she was looking at Jarain gut the fish he had just taken out of the basket for the umpteenth time.
She had found the dress on that day itself- it had simply been taken by her mother to show her friends who had also marveled at such a unique shade, but after that, thankfully, she had gotten it back.
She was the chieftain's daughter, so no one would dare to bully her, and her father had also shown a rare moment of kindness when he had relented to her keeping it, even though he had made the woman who had given it leave in that fashion.
She wasn't wearing it, but was content with the knowledge that it was sitting safely in her room.
Looking up, she saw her father's face framed by the sunlight, which allowed her to spot that his brow was furrowed with worry.
Tugging the hand that was holding hers, she asked, "What's wrong, dad?"
Snapping out of his thoughts, the chieftain first looked around as if he had even forgotten where he was, but after that, he sighed and said, "Nothing, little liv liv. It's just that…well, why don't I ask you? You've always been an observant girl. Have you noticed anything untoward in the village this past week? Think properly, now."
A chance to impress her father!
These were also rare, so deciding to use it fully, she scrunched her eyebrows in a cute manner and began to think, while still looking around at all the village folk.
She had spent the week as she always did: running from place to place, playing with her friends, doing chores and listening to the stories of the village storyteller even though she knew all that he could tell by heart.
Of course, she had also been repeatedly dwelling on that story told by that strange beggar. She hadn't told her parents about that encounter as she had already been scolded for approaching strangers once, so she had only continued to scold him in her heart, and wish that he had stayed for just a bit longer and finished his fascinating story.
It had been more interesting than anything she had heard so far, and the fact that it was true made it all the more enthralling.
Of course, she didn't pause to wonder whether he might be lying, as her innocent mind made her take anyone's and everyone's words as gospel until they were proven false.
Now, as for what she had observed in the village…
She began to think of the little things, as that was often where the most interesting stuff was.
At first, she didn't spot anything amiss, but slowly, she began to notice something.
"Whispers," she said, making her father whirl in her direction and bend to catch her shoulders before asking, "What was that? Speak up!"
Startled, Oliva repeated the word, which made her father frown even more and say, "Between whom?"
The answer came right away, as she could remember exactly what she had seen.
"The newcomer, Bourdain and Kigil. Kigil and Urthad. Kigil and Jasmine. Bourdain and Jasmine. Jasmine and Uncle Jahain. And…"
Just as she was about to continue, she couldn't help but feel startled again as her father clamped his hand on her mouth.
He let go after a moment and got up, and before she could say anything, she was being yanked in the direction of her house.
It hurt a little, but she didn't say anything. Seeing that he was hurting his daughter in his hurry, the chieftain paused and picked her up before quickening his pace.
Soon enough, they were back under the maple tree, with her father saying, "Continue, little liv liv. Tell me all of the people you saw whispering. And they gossip regularly, anyway, right? So what made them stand out?"
Oliva didn't have to think much to answer.
"When they gossip, they talk between themselves, sometimes in whispers, but in the last week…they always stopped when they saw me. They never did that before."
She had noticed this before, too, but she had just thought that it was adult stuff that she wasn't supposed to hear. However, it was her father's question which had made her realize that it was happening much more than usual, and as he nodded at her after getting a grave look on his face, she continued the list.
She had always had an exceptional memory, so she could rattle off all the names. She was done in a few seconds, and by that time, her father was breathing heavily.
She didn't understand why that was so, but he stood up and thought for a bit before looking like he had come to a decision.
"It was a risk to let him in, but everyone said that he seemed so trustworthy…I pray that I didn't make the wrong choice. Little liv liv, stay in the house, with the door locked. Only open the door if I or your mother knock, ok? And if there's someone else…you're an expert at your favorite game, right? I want you to play that game with them, and hide somewhere until papa can find you. All right?"
Still perplexed, she blinked and then nodded, following which she was taken into her room.
Seeing her father's insistent gaze as he walked out, she locked it behind him, and it was only after he heard the sound of the bolt that she heard his footsteps begin before fading in the distance.
Now thoroughly scared, Oliva had no idea what she was supposed to do.
She clutched her wooden doll, at first, but it gave her no comfort. It had been made by her father, so it only reminded her of him, and made her worry further.
Then, she tried to practice knitting, but that made her recall her mother, who was also outside.
The first shouts began an hour after her father's departure. For the first time, she wished that their house was not so far away from the main village, as she wasn't able to understand any of them from where she was.
She contemplated whether she should peek out of the window, but her father had made it clear that she should stay put. Looking out the window would only expose her, but she did peek out of it constantly, as it was her way out to hide in case she did have to play the game.
Her fervent wish was that she wouldn't have to, but alas…another hour later, she heard the door of their house opening.
Hurried footsteps were heard, followed by the sound of someone rummaging through their cupboards.
"Ah! The frugal assh*le!"
Hearing this nasty growl, she gasped, before falling back on her cupboard.
"Huh? Who's there?"
Tears now appearing in her eyes, she started to panic, and soon, she heard the sound of her door being pushed by the man outside.
In the state she was in, she could hardly take a step forward, but suddenly, her eyes fell on the dress that had fallen out due to her clumsiness just now.
It made her remember that pretty woman, and the delight she had felt when she had obtained it.
She clutched at it, and in the process, she remembered her father's words, as the image of him looking at her tenderly when she had worn it appeared in her mind.
'Hide!'
In a flash, she was out of the window and running in the direction of the glade nearby.
"Catch her! It's the chieftain's daughter!"
She heard shouts from behind her, but she didn't look back. The dress in her hands and the image of her father gave her strength, letting her focus on just putting one footstep after another while gaining distance on her pursuers.
No one knew this glade better than those of her age, as they would often spend entire days playing the game she was the unrivaled champion in right here.
She ducked and weaved her way through the branches expertly, knowing the location of every stone and every spot with moss where one would slip, and behind her, she heard curses as the men continuously ran into obstacles.
Soon, she reached a hiding spot she had found just the other day: it was in the bark of a tree whose entrance could be hidden as the opening's covering had just fallen off a few days ago, and entering it, she placed that patch of bark back and tried to calm her heart that was thunderously beating within her chest.
A minute later, she heard footsteps outside, but she clamped her hands tightly around her mouth and stayed still.
"Little b*tch must have gone through! Let's search the next glade!"
The shout was unnecessarily loud, and from her experience, she knew right away that it was a ruse. She had only fallen for it once, when she had experienced it for the first time, so there was no way that she would fall for it now.
She stayed put, and sure enough, another minute later, she heard footsteps again, followed by curses.
"She's definitely not here. Let's move."
Even an hour after she heard this, Oliva continued to hide, and it was only when she was completely convinced that there was no one outside did she dare to peek, and see that night had fallen.
Darkness was her friend, and she knew this. Leaving the dress in the tree trunk with a heavy heart as common sense dictated that it would be too flashy, she carefully closed up her hiding place and began to walk in the direction of the village.
Not even a few seconds later, she could hear raucous laughter, and the sound of bottles banging against each other, which was something she remembered from when she had entered the only bar in their village by mistake when she had been just 6 years old.
Now sure that something was definitely wrong, she crept forward even more cautiously, but a minute later, she became rooted to her spot, as an image that would haunt her for the rest of her life appeared in front of her.
Right at the edge of the glave, at a spot a hundred meters away from her, there were five trees whose branches had been cut off, save for a few at the very top.
And on these branches were five people, tied securely and gagged.
She recognized them by their clothes, as she had grown up seeing them- they were her father, mother and her father's three brothers.
Below the trees were around 50 people, all with their hands tied, and in front of them was a large bonfire.
Bourdain was sitting on the chieftain's chair while sipping from a glass bottle, and occasionally, he would laugh heartily at a joke told by the others who were bunched around him.
Oliva could only continue to stare, and it was only after Bourdain stood up and spoke loudly that she snapped out of her trance.
"EASTCLIFF IS MINE! All of you, prepare to be slaves, while we enjoy the fruits of your labor! It's your fault- you should have listened when I asked! But now…it's too late! HAHAHAHA! HA-…"
As his wild laughter echoed in the forest and the village, Oliva took a step back with fear.
She had already counted the people. She was the only free.
But as a little girl, what could she do?
She had no answers, but suddenly…she was reminded of a toothy grin, and the incomplete gift received in exchange for three loaves of bread.