When she got home, her father scolded her a lot. It wasn't because she hadn't prepared a fresh dinner. Leila's father wasn't that delicate. It was just because of the recent problems in the village.
It was not yesterday or today that the new military government began in Ramrock. Many people agreed that it would be great if the military, which won the last war, protected Ramrock. The problem was that the shortcomings began to surface soon after, and another class began to divide between the military and civilians who held power.
When a class that beats up is born, a class that gets beaten up is bound to be born. The civilians once again became the oppressed class. The arrogant soldiers of Ramrock caused many incidents. They not only robbed residents and merchants, but also took things without permission, assaulted people if they didn’t like them, and rape cases were frequent. At first, the people of Ramrock were hypnotized by the title of heroes who saved their country, but they are also gradually avoiding the soldiers. It is all because of this that they gradually quiet their footsteps when they see soldiers gathered in the city.
Leila's father had always expressed his blunt concern about the fact that Cassini, which was located between large cities and had a large population of soldiers relative to its population density, did not have a separate military police force.
“Stop flapping your wings!”
“I’ll be careful. Be careful.”
“That’s right! But what is this handkerchief?”
Dad noticed the cloth wrapped around Penny's donkey's front leg and asked,
“Isn’t this silk?”
“Oh, that.”
“What! Speak louder!”
The voice of her deaf father grew louder as Leila's voice grew quieter. Leila struggled to answer. It was not a problem that she had been helped by a strange man on her way here, but the rumor that it was a Dublin soldier was disturbing. Of course, her father was not one to shout anti-Dublin. Leila considered the possibility that her father had no interest in Dublin at all. He had maintained a very simple life and way of thinking.
“When the donkey broke down in front of me, there was a person who happened to be passing by. I didn’t know what to do, so he suddenly helped me.”
“Were he rich?”
“No? You looked like the best beggar in Casnier,” Leila shrugged, not really meaning it.
It was not yesterday or today that the new military government began in Ramrock. Many people agreed that it would be great if the military, which won the last war, protected Ramrock. The problem was that the shortcomings began to surface soon after, and another class began to divide between the military and civilians who held power.
When a class that beats up is born, a class that gets beaten up is bound to be born. The civilians once again became the oppressed class. The arrogant soldiers of Ramrock caused many incidents. They not only robbed residents and merchants, but also took things without permission, assaulted people if they didn’t like them, and rape cases were frequent. At first, the people of Ramrock were hypnotized by the title of heroes who saved their country, but they are also gradually avoiding the soldiers. It is all because of this that they gradually quiet their footsteps when they see soldiers gathered in the city.
Leila's father had always expressed his blunt concern about the fact that Cassini, which was located between large cities and had a large population of soldiers relative to its population density, did not have a separate military police force.
“Stop flapping your wings!”
“I’ll be careful. Be careful.”
“That’s right! But what is this handkerchief?”
Dad noticed the cloth wrapped around Penny's donkey's front leg and asked,
“Isn’t this silk?”
“Oh, that.”
“What! Speak louder!”
The voice of her deaf father grew louder as Leila's voice grew quieter. Leila struggled to answer. It was not a problem that she had been helped by a strange man on her way here, but the rumor that it was a Dublin soldier was disturbing. Of course, her father was not one to shout anti-Dublin. Leila considered the possibility that her father had no interest in Dublin at all. He had maintained a very simple life and way of thinking.
“When the donkey broke down in front of me, there was a person who happened to be passing by. I didn’t know what to do, so he suddenly helped me.”
“Were he rich?”
“No? You looked like the best beggar in Casnier,” Leila shrugged, not really meaning it.
“Where did this splint come from?”
“Because that guy cut it.”
“Cut it?”
“His hands were incredibly fast.”
My father looked at the skillfully carved stick and was silent for a long time.
“Did you thank him?”
“...Ah, that’s it, I didn’t give him anything in return. I gave him an apple. And some candy.”
“What a nuisance!”
“I already had him on my mind the whole time I was here. I’ll thank him when we meet again.”
Leila's father's thumping sound followed her as she entered the old door.
“Surely you are! Don’t live in debt! By the way, you stupid donkey! I don’t like seeing you slumped over here. Eat this, eat this!”
Take out the hay and spread it in front of the Donkey.
Leila suspected that perhaps Penny had lent her the skinny donkey for that very reason. She hoped that her father, who was overflowing with pity, would fatten the idiot donkey. Thinking about it made her feel bad for some reason. She had joked earlier, but she really thought she might pull out all her bangs this time.
‘...But does that guy really live there?’
Before falling asleep, Leila suddenly remembered the skinny body of the man she met this afternoon. It was harvest season, but it would be difficult to live by camping. His voice was really soft. She was a little scared at first, but he didn’t seem like a bad person...
Was he really a Dubliner who had fought in the last war? Why was he in Ramrock when the Ramrock people had been retaliating against the Dubliners for more than a day or two?
Leila couldn’t sleep at night because of these thoughts.
The nightmare has been going on for a year. It started when he was a low-ranking officer who shot and killed the first person, but it always ended in the Battle of Trobia.
When the friendly blades, not the enemy bullets, began to point at the friendly forces, there was no choice. The thick smell of blood spread through the smoke. It was a scene of chaos. He grabbed his comrade's neck with his bloody hands. From a distance, it must have looked like he was strangling him. His vision became dizzy, and the picture changed for a moment.
'Aaron... we're going to lose.'
'I won't support you. Don't think like that. That will only increase your anxiety. And there's nothing you can do about it.'
'Isn't it a defeat just because so many people have died in this meaningless war?'
The scenery changes again.
He, a soldier, started to run. It is hard to say whether one can call a runner a soldier. The only weapon he had was a badly worn-out jackknife. The two bloody dog tags hanging around his neck made a rattling sound as he ran.
He kept running but couldn't get away. He couldn't tell if he was breathing or inhaling smoke.
Ding... Ding... The alarm bell rang from far away, signaling the second bombardment.
He let out a breath that had risen to his chin. The man who had been running and running finally rolled around in a puddle of blood, startled by the sound of a gunshot. His once beautiful blond hair stuck to his face like red seaweed. He was lost in an emotion that was either fear or anger, and a groan rose up in his throat.
'This is hell. It's a temple for them, but for us it's just hell. Claude.'
He quickly got up. He tried to move his feet. Strangely, they wouldn’t move. He looked down and saw bloody hands grabbing his ankles. The enemy’s uniforms dug into his brain like a thorn in his eyes.
The enemy's eyes, barely breathing, glared at him. He continued to vomit blood, as if his airway was on the verge of occlusion. A deep gunshot wound was visible on the enemy's lower chest. Only then did the man realize that the pool of blood he had been rolling in was his life. The enemy's gray eyes were still sharp even after pouring out so much blood.
'...Let go.'
The soldier cried and pleaded. The enemy grabbed his ankle and spoke in a voice that sounded like it was leaking from a perforated tube.
‘...Save me.’
***
The nightmare has been going on for a year. It started when he was a low-ranking officer who shot and killed the first person, but it always ended in the Battle of Trobia.
When the friendly blades, not the enemy bullets, began to point at the friendly forces, there was no choice. The thick smell of blood spread through the smoke. It was a scene of chaos. He grabbed his comrade's neck with his bloody hands. From a distance, it must have looked like he was strangling him. His vision became dizzy, and the picture changed for a moment.
'Aaron... we're going to lose.'
'I won't support you. Don't think like that. That will only increase your anxiety. And there's nothing you can do about it.'
'Isn't it a defeat just because so many people have died in this meaningless war?'
The scenery changes again.
He, a soldier, started to run. It is hard to say whether one can call a runner a soldier. The only weapon he had was a badly worn-out jackknife. The two bloody dog tags hanging around his neck made a rattling sound as he ran.
He kept running but couldn't get away. He couldn't tell if he was breathing or inhaling smoke.
Ding... Ding... The alarm bell rang from far away, signaling the second bombardment.
He let out a breath that had risen to his chin. The man who had been running and running finally rolled around in a puddle of blood, startled by the sound of a gunshot. His once beautiful blond hair stuck to his face like red seaweed. He was lost in an emotion that was either fear or anger, and a groan rose up in his throat.
'This is hell. It's a temple for them, but for us it's just hell. Claude.'
He quickly got up. He tried to move his feet. Strangely, they wouldn’t move. He looked down and saw bloody hands grabbing his ankles. The enemy’s uniforms dug into his brain like a thorn in his eyes.
The enemy's eyes, barely breathing, glared at him. He continued to vomit blood, as if his airway was on the verge of occlusion. A deep gunshot wound was visible on the enemy's lower chest. Only then did the man realize that the pool of blood he had been rolling in was his life. The enemy's gray eyes were still sharp even after pouring out so much blood.
'...Let go.'
The soldier cried and pleaded. The enemy grabbed his ankle and spoke in a voice that sounded like it was leaking from a perforated tube.
‘...Save me.’
It was a pair of gray eyes so vivid and vivid that it was hard to believe that he was dying with blood in his mouth.
'Please!
But the enemy did not let go. After glaring at him for a while, he took out his only weapon, a jackknife. He aimed the tip of the knife at the enemy's chest. His hands were shaking.
‘...What do you want?’
Flash. Aaron opened his eyes.
“Huh!”
He felt the breath he had been holding pour out all at once. He touched his forehead, which was covered in cold sweat. Waking up from a nightmare is as familiar as having a nightmare. It’s even stranger that it’s unfamiliar, since he's been suffering from it for over a year.
'...Ah.'
Unlike previous dreams, the world pouring into the pupils is peaceful. The gap between peace and nightmare is as big as the difference between heaven and earth. After a while of blankly gathering his wits, Aaron turns his head. He had thought it was cold, but even the embers were out.
Aaron, who was crouching in front of the campfire and clicking the lighter a few times, sighed and threw the lighter away. It was one of the few valuable items left, but it was so low on fuel that it wouldn't even light, so it could be called trash.
He staggered to his feet and put his hands in the cold river water. His hands felt like they were freezing. He had not eaten properly for a long time, so he was exhausted. Not only would he not be able to maintain his strength, but he might even die of malnutrition.
Then he checked the fish trap. It looks like there aren't even any blind fish today. Last week, a man named Walter came by and clicked his tongue and threw a bag of flour, but it was already empty. The candy and apple he got yesterday from helping a woman gave him strength for today. The life of begging for food every day is familiarly difficult.
At times like this, his weakness raises its head for a moment. He thinks of the wealthy days of Eastern Rock. He has no emotional drive to return, but his weakness, disguised as reason, chastises him.
He didn't give up everything from the beginning. He tried to earn money by working properly and not begging, and he tried to live in a house with a proper roof instead of a tent like this. However, it is difficult for a Dubliner to find work to make a living in Ramrock. There are still bad feelings between the two peoples everywhere.
Ding. Ding. Ding...
'...Ah.'
Unlike previous dreams, the world pouring into the pupils is peaceful. The gap between peace and nightmare is as big as the difference between heaven and earth. After a while of blankly gathering his wits, Aaron turns his head. He had thought it was cold, but even the embers were out.
Aaron, who was crouching in front of the campfire and clicking the lighter a few times, sighed and threw the lighter away. It was one of the few valuable items left, but it was so low on fuel that it wouldn't even light, so it could be called trash.
He staggered to his feet and put his hands in the cold river water. His hands felt like they were freezing. He had not eaten properly for a long time, so he was exhausted. Not only would he not be able to maintain his strength, but he might even die of malnutrition.
Then he checked the fish trap. It looks like there aren't even any blind fish today. Last week, a man named Walter came by and clicked his tongue and threw a bag of flour, but it was already empty. The candy and apple he got yesterday from helping a woman gave him strength for today. The life of begging for food every day is familiarly difficult.
At times like this, his weakness raises its head for a moment. He thinks of the wealthy days of Eastern Rock. He has no emotional drive to return, but his weakness, disguised as reason, chastises him.
He didn't give up everything from the beginning. He tried to earn money by working properly and not begging, and he tried to live in a house with a proper roof instead of a tent like this. However, it is difficult for a Dubliner to find work to make a living in Ramrock. There are still bad feelings between the two peoples everywhere.
Ding. Ding. Ding...
Her hands trembled at the sound of the bell ringing in the distance in the city.
The final sound is similar to the sound of a cannon shot in that it makes people's hearts tremble. Sometimes it is nothing, but sometimes it brings about a great fear that makes her whole body tremble.
Aaron, who had been crouching and waiting for the bell to ring, lay down on the dry grass.
'Hungry.'
He was hungry. If he fell asleep like this, would he never wake up? He was so hungry that even the beautiful sky of this rural town called Casnier couldn't impress him. Aaron closed his eyes, mumbling the names of the stars that were shining brightly with his dry lips.
“...Look. Hey there.”
Aaron opened his eyes again. He thought he had just closed his eyes, but it seemed he had fallen asleep. Aaron, startled, sat up. Reflexively, he put his hands in his pockets and grabbed the jackknife.
“...Uh, me.”
He felt his strength drain as he checked the other person. The visitor was a defenseless civilian, the face he had encountered last afternoon.
Last afternoon, Aaron spent quite a while watching a woman humming a tune as she walked ahead of a cart. She was a woman he occasionally saw on a street where people rarely passed by. She had the usual brown hair, a worn skirt, and a smiling face. One of the residents of Casnier, she had a beauty that was somewhere between a girl and a woman. She always looked happy, he thought. Her peaceful, smiling face was pretty.
But as soon as the skinny donkey fell, the woman turned into a girl. She stomped her feet and cried. Even that was cute. He was so hungry that he didn't want to move, but he wanted to help the woman in trouble. He mustered up a little courage and approached her.
The woman who saw him pursed her lips.
'Uh?'
Yes. The woman he saw up close was very cute and pretty. He smiled at her olive eyes that were staring at him. He wanted to help her. While Aaron was helping her, he felt good for some reason. He sent her off in return for an apple and a few candies. It was a strange thing. He kept thinking about it until he fell asleep.
But why is that woman from yesterday appearing in front of me now? Am I dreaming? Right in front of my nose?
“...Did I die by any chance?”
He must have starved to death or been half asleep. He stupidly asked. There was no way he could go to heaven, but did the merciful God open the gates of heaven?
“I guess it’s okay since you make jokes like that.”
A smile appeared on the lips of the woman who was staring at him with her eyes wide open. The only thing shining under the night sky was an unknown country girl. As if by magic. Aaron was very embarrassed by this fact.
Leila was on her way back from a trip to town to buy rye flour.
“Have you seen that Dubliner? He’s a beggar. A beggar. I don’t know what he’s thinking about living in our country. Isn’t he? Did he get kicked out of Dublin? He’s a total idiot. I’ll go and throw some rocks at him!”
When Leila asked her about the soldier from Dublin, Penny giggled as she said that. It wasn't that she was bad. Even children from rural villages like this, who had never experienced the oppression of Dublin, had been taught to despise Dublin by the orders of their elders.
Ramrocks hate Dubliners. It is an expression of emotion that is understandable in common sense. Dublin has persecuted Ramrocks for decades. That is why Ramrock soldiers started the last war when they rebelled. Although it was the opposite in the past, people tend to think that only their own suffering is wronged. When such individuals gather together and form a group, malice forgets its original purpose and becomes a concept in itself.
However, Leila did not live in a city where rumors spread quickly, and her father, Bendo, was a simple man who had no interest in anything other than shepherding or herding cattle, so she grew up relatively moderately. Furthermore, she knew that her maternal uncle, who had not returned from the war, had gone to war for money. Not for Ramrock or any other reason.
“My dear little Leila, you want to know? You’re just trying to get your hands on a bowl of rice! Shoot a gun and earn some money! Eat some raccoons and catch some raccoons!”
One of the thugs in the alley of Cassini - sorry, uncle - was the one who really exposed the truth about the soldiers. Because of that, Leila didn't have many expectations about the soldiers.
'Hmm.'
Leila stopped walking by the riverside, wondering if the man was there. The bonfire by the riverside was already out.
She was about to turn around when she discovered the man, thinking that she didn't need to approach the Dubliner first. The man was lying on the sloping grass, asleep as if he were dead. He looked so distressed that she couldn't just pass him by.
The final sound is similar to the sound of a cannon shot in that it makes people's hearts tremble. Sometimes it is nothing, but sometimes it brings about a great fear that makes her whole body tremble.
Aaron, who had been crouching and waiting for the bell to ring, lay down on the dry grass.
'Hungry.'
He was hungry. If he fell asleep like this, would he never wake up? He was so hungry that even the beautiful sky of this rural town called Casnier couldn't impress him. Aaron closed his eyes, mumbling the names of the stars that were shining brightly with his dry lips.
“...Look. Hey there.”
Aaron opened his eyes again. He thought he had just closed his eyes, but it seemed he had fallen asleep. Aaron, startled, sat up. Reflexively, he put his hands in his pockets and grabbed the jackknife.
“...Uh, me.”
He felt his strength drain as he checked the other person. The visitor was a defenseless civilian, the face he had encountered last afternoon.
Last afternoon, Aaron spent quite a while watching a woman humming a tune as she walked ahead of a cart. She was a woman he occasionally saw on a street where people rarely passed by. She had the usual brown hair, a worn skirt, and a smiling face. One of the residents of Casnier, she had a beauty that was somewhere between a girl and a woman. She always looked happy, he thought. Her peaceful, smiling face was pretty.
But as soon as the skinny donkey fell, the woman turned into a girl. She stomped her feet and cried. Even that was cute. He was so hungry that he didn't want to move, but he wanted to help the woman in trouble. He mustered up a little courage and approached her.
The woman who saw him pursed her lips.
'Uh?'
Yes. The woman he saw up close was very cute and pretty. He smiled at her olive eyes that were staring at him. He wanted to help her. While Aaron was helping her, he felt good for some reason. He sent her off in return for an apple and a few candies. It was a strange thing. He kept thinking about it until he fell asleep.
But why is that woman from yesterday appearing in front of me now? Am I dreaming? Right in front of my nose?
“...Did I die by any chance?”
He must have starved to death or been half asleep. He stupidly asked. There was no way he could go to heaven, but did the merciful God open the gates of heaven?
“I guess it’s okay since you make jokes like that.”
A smile appeared on the lips of the woman who was staring at him with her eyes wide open. The only thing shining under the night sky was an unknown country girl. As if by magic. Aaron was very embarrassed by this fact.
***
Leila was on her way back from a trip to town to buy rye flour.
“Have you seen that Dubliner? He’s a beggar. A beggar. I don’t know what he’s thinking about living in our country. Isn’t he? Did he get kicked out of Dublin? He’s a total idiot. I’ll go and throw some rocks at him!”
When Leila asked her about the soldier from Dublin, Penny giggled as she said that. It wasn't that she was bad. Even children from rural villages like this, who had never experienced the oppression of Dublin, had been taught to despise Dublin by the orders of their elders.
Ramrocks hate Dubliners. It is an expression of emotion that is understandable in common sense. Dublin has persecuted Ramrocks for decades. That is why Ramrock soldiers started the last war when they rebelled. Although it was the opposite in the past, people tend to think that only their own suffering is wronged. When such individuals gather together and form a group, malice forgets its original purpose and becomes a concept in itself.
However, Leila did not live in a city where rumors spread quickly, and her father, Bendo, was a simple man who had no interest in anything other than shepherding or herding cattle, so she grew up relatively moderately. Furthermore, she knew that her maternal uncle, who had not returned from the war, had gone to war for money. Not for Ramrock or any other reason.
“My dear little Leila, you want to know? You’re just trying to get your hands on a bowl of rice! Shoot a gun and earn some money! Eat some raccoons and catch some raccoons!”
One of the thugs in the alley of Cassini - sorry, uncle - was the one who really exposed the truth about the soldiers. Because of that, Leila didn't have many expectations about the soldiers.
'Hmm.'
Leila stopped walking by the riverside, wondering if the man was there. The bonfire by the riverside was already out.
She was about to turn around when she discovered the man, thinking that she didn't need to approach the Dubliner first. The man was lying on the sloping grass, asleep as if he were dead. He looked so distressed that she couldn't just pass him by.
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