Free Off Center (The Lament) by P.S. Power

it.
    "Unfamiliar
path for me, you've walked it several times. We can leave the gear here, but bring
the weapons and a bit of food."
    The
walk was different, since the ground was firmer underfoot, and she was allowed to
just walk, instead of running a walking guard. It sped the whole trip up, and even
the Guardian next to her mainly moved like a normal person. True, a few times she
was suddenly gone, when Pran looked over, to find that even her footprints weren't
there anymore. A bit later, each time, she was back before Pran could locate her,
and finally laughed, and then pointed at her feet.
    "You
can see the tracks. Anyone can. I was just walking backwards in them at the same
pace as you traveled forward, so you didn't hear me do it. Then once you got about
four meters ahead, I slipped off into the brush. It's too dangerous to move without
rhythm right now. It's slippery enough that you'd end up hurting yourself if you
tried. So we move to one of the alternate techniques. You can go next." She
said it as if the idea of walking through the freezing brush with snow falling down
her neck was a special treat.
    The
only good side was that she only had to do it twice before they got to the village,
which still had muddy streets. It was just covered with white now. An improvement
visually, at least. It took the filthy looking mud pit and turned it into a rather
picturesque landscape. If she would have seen this first, she might well have thought
more kindly about the place. They had a lot of stone buildings, and even the big
barn she and Ben were supposed to play in later was pretty now. The roof was glistening
in the sun as she moved, the tiny crystals that had stuck to it not melting yet
at all. Given the temperature out, they might not that day. Hopefully they could
warm the place inside, or her strings would snap when she tried to play.
    A
lot of the houses, and they were real enough places, she saw, with nice sturdy doors
and even glass windows in place, had thick plumes of wood smoke coming from the
chimneys. The whole village smelled of it. That and various meats being prepared.
She wasn't hungry at all, so her mouth didn't water, but it was pleasant enough.
There was no noise however.
    Not
past the sounds of a few animals back in their pens, behind the main street.
    "You
know," Pran began, realizing that she was probably going to say the wrong thing,
but feeling willing to do it anyway. "This place would benefit a lot from some
good roads. Even gravel would help."
    Mara
shrugged and looked around, her foot slipping on the still soft mud under the main
street, which hadn't gone solid yet at all.
    "That
kind of thing takes a lot of work, and villagers feel entitled to their half year
off. Asking them to do something like that might mess up the holiday schedule. Can't
have that."
    The
funny thing was that, as hard as Mara could be at times and as much as she looked
down on "lazy and soft Bards" She seemed pretty serious.
    For
her part, Pran blinked and stopped in her tracks, which meant her right boot started
to sink, until she realized what was happening and scrambled to the left side of
the track, near a large building that seemed like someone's home.
    "They
get a half year off? Each year? How does that work?"
    Mara
stared at her for a bit and then gestured around them.
    "The
growing and harvest seasons are set by the weather. There are some daily chores,
but most of their work is finished in those busy seasons. Then, if they have time
for it, they do building projects and what not, before things become impossible
that way. To you and I that seems hard to understand, because we have to work those
cold seasons, and don't take many days off. That isn't what most people do. My folks
are town people, and they still take a good quarter of the year off. They run a
shop, and work more than most, but in the winter they might not even open the door
for a month at a time, just waiting for someone to pound on the window if they