Gradually, the wind turned autumnal. Breezes that would have been pleasant in summer now left a chill as they brushed against exposed necks, forcing the villagers to draw their garments tighter. In Turnera, the first hints of winter could be felt even as early as the height of summer. It would only get colder from then on, so after midsummer, the villagers knew to begin preparing for the coming cold months. It was no exaggeration to say that almost all the work done in northern lands was in order to survive the winter. In order to make it through the long and bitter cold months, everyone worked hard the rest of the year. In such a remote village, guaranteed to be sealed away in snow, it was not possible to head out in the biting cold to forage for provisions—their stores must last the whole season.
Belgrieve nodded as he examined the firewood rack, evidently satisfied. It was fully laden with chopped wood. But even this much wasn’t certain to last the whole winter, given that the fireplace would be needed throughout the season for cooking as well as warmth. In order to ensure that fuel was never lacking, the villagers also kept communal stores of firewood as well. Once everyone had secured enough for their own home, the villagers would then begin gathering wood for the communal stores as well. The wood stored during the summer months would be sufficiently dried by then and would burn well. Half-dried wood would merely smoke and accumulate soot with little else to show for it.
Lately, Belgrieve had found most of his time occupied by administrative work and meetings. Everything pertaining to the dungeon and guild management would be settled come next spring, and what until now had only existed in his head would finally be concretely realized. He could feel the sense of finality in his bones just by watching as the construction neared its completion, especially with Seren’s practical advice on management and the guild system.
As Belgrieve cleaned up the wood-splitting area, his thoughts turned to Angeline. She had said she would come before the autumn festival, so she shouldn’t be long now. His expression softened slightly as he recalled how determined she was to eat cowberries this year for sure. No matter how big she got, Angeline was no different to him now than the small girl he had known so many years ago. With Angeline coming, Anessa and Miriam would probably be with her, and perhaps Marguerite too. Belgrieve chuckled. It’s going to be a large party again...
He finished by gathering the scattered wood splinters into a basket. They would make for fine kindling. Nearby, he could see Satie hanging up laundry. The light breeze caused the clothes to sway on the line. The sky overhead had been blue and clear in the morning, but clouds had since drifted in to block off the sun. The wind felt a little colder than usual today, though perhaps that was only because his body had grown too accustomed to summer’s warmth. He knew this chill was incomparable to winter.
After hanging up the last garment, Satie took a deep breath and rubbed her hands together.
“Finished?” Belgrieve asked.
“Yeah, that’s the last one. Ugh... It just had to get cloudy when I put them out to dry... The water’s getting cold too.”
“Summer’s already over.” Belgrieve took Satie’s hand. Her slender fingers were utterly chilled. “Wow, you really are cold.”
Satie smiled a little bashfully. “But your hands are warm, Bell.”
Washing anything with water was a chore in cold weather. The well water didn’t change in temperature much throughout the year, but wet hands could get frostbitten in no time at all. And this was still better than it would be in the midst of winter—it only got worse from here.
The two held hands for a spell. After some time, Satie looked around to see if the coast was clear before pulling Belgrieve into an embrace. She rubbed her cheek against his chest and breathed in deeply.
“Ahh... Nice and warm.”
“Hey now, you’re acting just like Ange.”
“Hee hee... We’re mother and daughter; what am I supposed to do about that? Or do you hate it?”
“I didn’t say that...”
Satie grinned as she wrapped her arms around Belgrieve’s back. “What a shy boy you are.” Belgrieve smiled wryly as he reciprocated her hug and rubbed her back. She seemed so delicate and small in his arms. Her silky, silver hair draped ticklishly over the back of his hand. Gradually, he could feel her warmth through their clothes. She turned and looked up at Belgrieve.
“Okay, I’m a bit warmer now.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll go tend to the fire...”
When he entered the house, Charlotte—who had been wiping down the floorboards—looked up at him.
“Ah, welcome back. Are you done with your work outside?”
“Yeah, all good on my end. Are you feeling cold, Char?”
Satie followed him inside and went to hold Charlotte’s hand.
Charlotte smiled. “I’m okay. I mixed a little bit of hot water in. It is a little cold today after all.”
Satie chuckled. “Oh, that’s clever. Heh heh... Good girl, good girl...” Satie hugged Charlotte and patted her head. The girl groaned embarrassedly and twisted in her embrace.
With all the time Charlotte had spent doing household chores and using field implements, the young girl’s hands had become a bit coarse. Belgrieve felt a little guilty that her formerly pale and dainty hands had turned out like this, but he figured that Charlotte would simply smile joyfully if he said so. “Do my hands look a little more like Angeline’s now?” she could probably ask. She had grown to be a strong girl.
Bundles of dried tree vines were hung all around the house. Graham would gather them each time he went out into the mountain so that he could occupy himself with basket weaving during the winter. It seemed that Charlotte and Mit had picked up the craft from him while Belgrieve and the others were away, and they could weave small but tidy little baskets. It wasn’t hard to find a use for a basket, and if they were made well enough, they could even be sold to peddlers too. It was a fine way to pass time when stuck inside.
Graham, Mit, and Byaku had gone off to the forest. They’d probably taken the village children to gather fruits, nuts, herbs, and more tree vines.
Percival and Kasim, as was their wont, wandered about as they pleased. They did help out when necessary, but they were adventurers first and foremost and hadn’t settled into the rhythm of daily life in a farming village. Hal and Mal had gone with them. Percival would let them dangle from his arms and would swing them around or toss them in the air. He played with them a bit rougher than the others did, but the twins enjoyed the chance to act out a little more.