Thirst

Mountains are thought to be useless land. They provide no space for farming, quite inadequate room for domesticating animals and even limited resources for water. That was what the people living in grasslands on the plains of the wealthy kingdom that stood beneath the mountain terrain of the North believed. They could never imagine living and wasting their days in the cold. They would never know how because they have never been there. "It's such a shame," Autumn thought out loud with a grin on her face, a mocking yet satisfied lilt in her voice emerging out of the usual facade she wore. Autumn cleared her throat. No one was there to hear her think out loud in the dark haven of the town library. Mountain people had other things to worry about other than reading books. It's totally fine. More quiet and chances to be crazy for her without the need to worry about prying eyes. She settled down her spectacles on her desk table, the sole space where a small lamp was lit. It wasn't enough light to cover the wide space of the whole library, especially not with its lined up shelves towering over everything. It was barely even lighting up her table. But for Autumn, saving up oil was of utmost importance. Besides, she could see quite well with her trusty lamp. With a sigh and a satisfied moan as she stretched her arms and back, she closed the book in front of her with a thud that echoed throughout the whole library. One book finished, yet another day passing by all done in peace. She got up after a nod at the book which seemed to smile at her job of finally finishing reading it. She carefully brought it back to its shelf, did so as well for the other books scattered on the tables, closed the windows and grabbed her coat before she went out the door. The night has unfurled its curtains. That was her cue to go home. -- Autumn found home in the humble town of High Peaks, up on the terrains of the North where it is said that harsh winds of long winters and barely seen summers reigned. The cold was its signature and the snow its bare skin. It was another stormy night when she got out of the library. The path to the apartment where she stayed was only a walk away, but it was still a struggle with the billowing snow that thrashed at the fabric of her clothes and whipped her ebony hair across her face. It was a pain really, but it was part of the fun. She liked the thrill of the chilling winters in High Peaks. She liked the wind, though it often didn't like her back. Same with its people. She liked them but they did not exactly like her. They didn't even care much about her presence. But that was also the reason why she was fond of them. High Peaks was a humble town, most folks would say. It was too humble, however, that it didn't mind being left out of the map. Too humble that it didn't mind being forgotten by the king who was supposed to rule over them. The king who has never stepped foot on their lands because he didn't like being knee-deep in snow. That made this town the perfect place for peace. Autumn liked that. She craved for it so much that when she was given the key to the library that she now owned, she didn't bat and eye and said yes on the spot. As soon as she arrived in her one room apartment, she placed the key of the library in her special box. It jingled along with the small trinkets that held most of Autumn's fondest memories. She shook the box once for a rattling noise, that shook it again for good measure. There were two other people living in the second floor of the apartment building that she was in. They were more strangers to her than neighbors, especially with their rooms far apart. They rarely even see each other. Autumn did catch a glimpse of a red headed girl padding down the stairs as she closed the door to her room. Perhaps the lass was out for dinner. They usually dine in separate times that it was a mystery how the Madame of the house accepted the arrangements. Autumn sighed. She really did like High Peaks, but right now she was bored. How can a place both serve her purpose while also driving her to the brink of insanity? She needed the silence but sometimes it was suffocating. Hearing no other voice aside from her own was a torture she never thought she would have to endure. She thought she liked the solitude, yet why does she feel so empty? "Get it together, Autumn," she scolded herself. "That yearning of yours would be the death of you." How right of her to think so.