82nd Day of Fall, 500 AV
“I want three because I want one too,” said the little Rowboat, holding up two fingers on one hand and one finger on the other.
Sandra laughed, picking up the five-year-old child and placing her atop the bar table.
“You’re too much trouble, you know that? You’re lucky your mother isn’t here, I’m sure she’d have a word with you about what you’re asking for. That stuff isn’t for you, alright? Tobacco and ale are for adults. Stop asking for it,” said the blond-haired young woman, pinching the girl’s cheek.
“Now stay here and continue on the newest practise page. Don’t press too hard with the charcoal or you’ll break it. I’ll check on you in a few chimes,” said the barmaid, giving the girl a book and a writing utensil before walking off to serve the patrons at The Beer Hut.
Rohka flipped the book open to where they'd left off last. Sandra was teaching the basics of addition and subtraction. Vida, Rohka's mother, had trusted her to do so while Meer and Mattias did their business at the Hut, investigating leads and staking out the next development and infrastructure plans for the city. There was only so much a family like theirs could do, having settled on the Lakeshore much later than the establishment in the city centre. The Lumber Company was beginning to make a name for itself and the men were sizing up the market for what it truly was. Vida didn't mind that her young daughter was being taken into such an environment. She knew it would be good for her. Getting the girl exposed to the grime, the filth, the hard truths of life early on was exactly what was needed for her daughter to grow up and become the woman Vida needed her to be... as the oldest granddaughter. The matriarch would need a solid foundation, and Vida had all the faith in the world that she could raise her daughter into being fit to handle every part of the business: the dark, the light, and even the murky grey.
Rohka picked up the charcoal and looked at her first set of problems. They were different than last time, where Sandra just left everything on the right side of the equal sign blank. This time, some of the problems looked like they had answers, but were missing parts of the question.
The first one said 5 + __ = 9
The girl bit her lip as she thought about it. She put the charcoal down and raised her hands. On one hand, she knew she had five fingers. She looked at her other hand.
"I need nine fingers?" she asked aloud.
A man chuckled, overhearing her question, but continued to pretend like he was wasn't watching her.
Rohka counted aloud, looking at her other hand. "Six, seven, eight, nine."
She looked at her left hand holding five fingers and her right hand that now had enough fingers up to hold nine fingers. She then counted her left hand.
"One, two, three, four."
Rohka beamed, figuring it out, and quickly scribbled the number four into the blank space.
“I want three because I want one too,” said the little Rowboat, holding up two fingers on one hand and one finger on the other.
Sandra laughed, picking up the five-year-old child and placing her atop the bar table.
“You’re too much trouble, you know that? You’re lucky your mother isn’t here, I’m sure she’d have a word with you about what you’re asking for. That stuff isn’t for you, alright? Tobacco and ale are for adults. Stop asking for it,” said the blond-haired young woman, pinching the girl’s cheek.
“Now stay here and continue on the newest practise page. Don’t press too hard with the charcoal or you’ll break it. I’ll check on you in a few chimes,” said the barmaid, giving the girl a book and a writing utensil before walking off to serve the patrons at The Beer Hut.
Rohka flipped the book open to where they'd left off last. Sandra was teaching the basics of addition and subtraction. Vida, Rohka's mother, had trusted her to do so while Meer and Mattias did their business at the Hut, investigating leads and staking out the next development and infrastructure plans for the city. There was only so much a family like theirs could do, having settled on the Lakeshore much later than the establishment in the city centre. The Lumber Company was beginning to make a name for itself and the men were sizing up the market for what it truly was. Vida didn't mind that her young daughter was being taken into such an environment. She knew it would be good for her. Getting the girl exposed to the grime, the filth, the hard truths of life early on was exactly what was needed for her daughter to grow up and become the woman Vida needed her to be... as the oldest granddaughter. The matriarch would need a solid foundation, and Vida had all the faith in the world that she could raise her daughter into being fit to handle every part of the business: the dark, the light, and even the murky grey.
Rohka picked up the charcoal and looked at her first set of problems. They were different than last time, where Sandra just left everything on the right side of the equal sign blank. This time, some of the problems looked like they had answers, but were missing parts of the question.
The first one said 5 + __ = 9
The girl bit her lip as she thought about it. She put the charcoal down and raised her hands. On one hand, she knew she had five fingers. She looked at her other hand.
"I need nine fingers?" she asked aloud.
A man chuckled, overhearing her question, but continued to pretend like he was wasn't watching her.
Rohka counted aloud, looking at her other hand. "Six, seven, eight, nine."
She looked at her left hand holding five fingers and her right hand that now had enough fingers up to hold nine fingers. She then counted her left hand.
"One, two, three, four."
Rohka beamed, figuring it out, and quickly scribbled the number four into the blank space.
