The children were ragged little things, nothing more than skin, bone, and eyes. They clustered around the mouth of an alley surrounding the visitor, about six or seven of them, shoving at each other and clambering for room. The city had been under a state of official famine for twenty-three days now, with the only end in sight being a promise from Syliras--the gift of food in exchange for men. To an outside observer, this sounded like a great thing, an end to the people's suffering. To the people living in the city right now, though, the promise was nothing more than words in the air. Food within the city was extremely scarce, and what little one was likely to get was either rationed out amongst the populace or exorbitantly priced. Those that could travel by sea had already left the city in search of greener pastures, but those people made up a small fraction of Zeltiva's population. Even the University's Cafeteria, normally a reliable source of food for the school's paying students, had had to resort to severe rationing in order to continue feeding them all. A student might get lucky enough to receive one small meal a day, and on some days, calling it a meal was being generous. Satevis could live quite comfortably off of one small meal a day. In fact, he often did. Which was why he gave all his food away. The piece of fried fish in his pack disappeared in the crowd of children, his hands quickly breaking it into seven somewhat equal pieces and handing a piece to each child. The stale roll at the bottom of his pack disappeared in much the same fashion, divided up and eagerly scarfed down. It was precious little, but there wasn't much more anyone could do. The Ethaefal turned the bag inside out to show the children that he didn't have anything more to give, sighing as he watched their faces fall. It was late afternoon, and his own hunger gnawed at him, reminding him that he hadn't had a bite of food from dawn until now. In truth, he hadn't had a single bite to eat since famine was officially declared, but he was lucky in that regard. His body disregarded that. As soon as night fell, he knew that he would assume his Ethaefal form, and the need for food would be gone. The hunger would be gone. But he wasn't in his Ethaefal form now, he was in his mortal seeming. And in his Benshira form, he hungered. He didn't eat a lot, and he had gone days without food before, but in his Benshira form he was functionally nothing more than a human, and humans felt hungry when they hadn't eaten from sunrise to sunset. The academic part of his mind knew that he was in no danger of starving, knew that he was better off than everyone else, but it had been twenty-three days. His mind was starting to feel the psychological effects of being constantly hungry, and his control was beginning to grow strained. It was hard to have food in his hand and not take one bite out of it. It was hard to tell himself to wait for nightfall, that once night fell it wouldn't matter, once night fell, he would be satisfied. It was hard to stand here every day and give his food away, knowing that one bite here and there wouldn't do much to keep any of these kids alive. It was hard, but he kept at it, because of the principle of the thing. It would be a horrid excess for him to eat anything when he didn't truly need food to survive. And after a while, it became a point of pride as well, a personal challenge. Because there were few things Satevis prided himself on more than his self-control. So he stood and watched as the children ate, some of them scarfing down the few bites of bread and fish quickly, and others nibbling on the pieces, taking small bites and savoring them. And maybe for the first time since becoming an Ethaefal, he found himself thinking that he had the best fortune out of all of them. |