46. Adult (Patreon)

She couldn’t believe it, but it was true. She had had a good night’s rest. It almost felt nature-defying. To celebrate such an accomplishment, Aloe slept until noon.

There weren’t many daily tasks remaining at the oasis, most could be done weekly like cooking, washing, and shoveling waste, so for once in a long time, Aloe had the day to herself.

Which unfortunately started with cooking.

Cooking didn’t run in her blood, neither her mother nor father were great cooks, and she had barely seen them cook in almost two decades.

“How did Karaim scrape by? I guess he must have cooked.” If the grandfather survived with food just like the granddaughter did, it didn’t surprise Aloe he kicked the bucket. She could feel it slowly, specifically in her stomach, that she was slowly dying. “It’s time to do something... decent.”

Her master plan was to throw every spice she could find into the cauldron.

Flawless planning, flawless execution.

Aloe refilled the cauldron with water straight from the oasis, she also started boiling some water now that she was there. As the hearth took its time to heat the water, Aloe peeled some potatoes and opened some dates, taking out the seeds.

“Hmm, maybe I could put some coconut water inside too.” When she said that she was going to put everything in the cauldron, she meant it.

Her culinary knowledge and intuition were abysmal compared to the average housewife, but thanks to her parents' standing, Aloe had had a lot of exotic and expensive foods, so at the very minimum – very, very minimum – she knew how good food had to look like.

Some black seeds here, a pinch of salt there, a handful of beans all around, and a healthy dose of potatoes as the main body with dates as the finisher.

People would have puked just seeing her create that abomination. Aloe just thought it would be more flavorful than water with potatoes. She sat down on the doorway, as she had been doing as of late, and picked up the bowl filled with steaming soup.

“Moment of truth.” Aloe nervously handled her spoon as she neared her head to the bowl.

The spoon reached her lips, the liquid hot but not burning, then Aloe realized with a deadbeat thought, I haven’t deactivated my ‘toughness’ infusion, haven’t I?

“Oh...” She groaned in understanding. “So that’s why I didn’t collapse in a pool of my vomit yesterday, noted. So much for not keeping internal infusions up, though.”

Aloe left the wooden spoon back in the bowl and deactivated her internal infusion before doing the taste test. This was because she didn’t want to pressure her body even further, who knows what consequences the prolonged use of internal infusions on the body, and it totally wasn’t an excuse to push back as much as possible eating the soup. On the heavens, she swore.

Perhaps it was her heightened understanding of vitality after the many reinfusions, but Aloe had an easier time switching her ‘toughness’ infusion back to default. In a way, internal infusions and reinfusions were the same, the only difference being that one was internal and the other external.

Slowly but surely, scrapping seconds at a time, Aloe had a better time switching her infusions, even if it was just between the default and ‘toughness’.

Her body felt heavier now, all the damage she had accumulated came back to her. Thankfully, it was long mitigated and healed. Only a phantom wave of pain washed over her. She shuddered a bit and let it pass.

“Alright, now’s the real test.” Aloe shoved the spoon in her mouth before she could protest about other things. “Hm.” She grunted. “Not bad. Not bad.”

It was official, pain had numbed her sense of taste. That or grass.

“Way more flavorful.” She took another spoonful with gusto.

One had to imagine Aloe happy. And one had to realize she had mixed one of the sweetest fruits in the country with literal pinches of salt. Of course, Aloe only cared about herself and her non-existent palate right now, the opinions of others were the last of her priorities.

After enjoying her surprisingly edible soup, Aloe did what every responsible person should do after having slept for twelve hours. Taking a nap.

The rest of the day was uneventful, she gathered a bit of water, dates, and coconuts to restock her reserves, but beyond that, she just waited for the day to end.

Tomorrow was going to be a special day.

{*}

“Happy New Year, Fikali!” Aloe shouted as she stepped into the oasis, greeting the dweller early in the morning.

“Hro?” Fikali grunted still half-sleep.

“Yeah, I guess you don’t care much about the new year, truth be told, neither do I normally.”

Ydaz didn’t have traditions over the change of year, it was just like another day. There was an important celebration at the start of Spring, but that still was a solid month away. The new year only marked the start of a new fiscal year, meaning people had a deadline of a week to pay their yearly taxes.

Aloe doubted her mother had filled her taxes, so that meant that she had six days at most before going back to Sadina. It was well within her time frame as she only wanted to wait two or three days more to let the cannabis plants fully bloom.

But no, taxes weren’t the reason why Aloe was excited. Though excited was a bit of a misnomer.

“Come on, Fikali,” Aloe said with the dweller’s saddle in hand. “Let’s take a ride.”

“Wroo!” Even if it was early in the morning and she had no idea of the special occasion, Fikali was nonetheless elated by the prospect of a ride.

Fikali may have been in her twilight years, but she had seemingly limitless energy. Even if she spent most of her time sleeping twenty-five hours a day. Maybe it was just because of that.

It took Aloe more time to put the saddle on Fikali than it took them to make it to their destination.

The place had nothing remarkable to its name, a random spot in the desert, far away from civilization. The only highlightable trait was the rocky ground that stopped Fikali from cruising forward. However, that was only worth mentioning because this section of the Qiraji Desert was more sandy than rocky, seas of dunes for kilometers without end. Aloe had heard of desert zones with more rocks than sand, even if she hadn’t seen it for herself.

The spot held no value whatsoever to her, and probably neither to any other person. Aloe had only picked it because it was deserted. Pun, unfortunately, not intended.

As she dismounted Fikali and walked on the rocky floor, dry air filled her nostrils. The sun had yet to fully rise, so the coldness of night still lingered in the air. After walking for a few minutes, Aloe sat down on a random rock and looked at the horizon as the sun slowly shook off its drowsiness.

It was both beautiful and dreadful.

New year.

That meant one thing.

Lethargically, Aloe reached into a linen bag she carried in her chest. Inside the bag there only was a single piece of clothing. It was made from white silk, and it was mostly translucent. As a piece of clothing, it was practically useless. It wouldn’t protect one from the sun or the elements, its value was purely symbolic.

It was a cayora.

Shahrazad’s cayora.

Her mother’s cayora.

Aloe held it painfully in her clutches, she wanted to forcefully grip on it, but logic whispered in her mind that doing so would destroy the fabric.

In Ydaz, mothers would put on the cayora on their daughter's head once they came of age. Yet Aloe had no mother to do that for her. With a bit of acumen, it was obvious why Aloe had the clothes in her hands now, though it was not as easy to see that today was not her birthday.

Life was not easy, or forgiving. Aloe hadn’t been born in the middle of Winter at the change of year, but in Autumn the day before the harvest festival. Another tradition in Ydaz, more born out of necessity rather than culture, was that all birthdays were celebrated during the new year, if they were even celebrated.

So even if Aloe had been an adult by over a few months now, the country only now recognized the legality of the statement.

And so did she.

“Why couldn’t we have celebrated it during the actual day of my birth?” Aloe mumbled between sobs. “Why couldn't you be the one wrapping it?”

The thin and light silk weighed in her arms more than a cauldron full of water.

Aloe muted her cries and enveloped the cayora around her head, imagining it was her mother performing the deed. Though comfortable, it didn’t protect her even against the unrisen sun.

She had said she would not show weakness again, but just for today, Aloe allowed herself to cry. Just a shedding of a tear.

“Wroo?” Aloe turned her head at the source of the worried grunt only to find Fikali at her side.

“Fikali? When have you gotten here?” Even if she had chosen the location for its rocky floor so the dweller couldn’t access it easily, so not even a monster could see her, Aloe hadn’t noticed Fikali bellyflopping her way here as she drowned in her misery.

“Wro?” The dweller asked again.

“It’s nothing, Fikali. I’m fine.” Aloe lied as she wiped the tears on her garb’s sleeve.

Fikali, on the other hand, didn’t respond back. Instead, she approached Aloe and nuzzled her snoot on the girl’s side. As Aloe caressed the dweller’s head, she noticed she had lied twice.

She hadn’t only teared up. Aloe let out a primordial bawl filled with suffering as everything she had accumulated over the last week flowed free.

For better, but mostly for worse, Aloe was officially an adult.