Chapter 27 Hunger Country
Darius crouched at the edge of the ridge, looking down at the wide valley below. The air felt strangely heavy, as if the land itself was holding its breath. "This is it. We have entered Solis’s territory. Stay alert. Keep your eyes open."
Veth cracked her knuckles with a loud pop. "Finally. I was getting sick of empty roads and quiet forests. Where is the fighting? The chaos?"
Mara’s golden eyes narrowed as she scanned the landscape. "There will be no fighting here. Not the kind you enjoy, Veth. This place is different."
They descended into the first town along the border of the region. The gates stood wide open. People moved through the streets, going about their daily business. Shops were open. Market stalls had goods displayed. On the surface, everything looked functional. But something was deeply, unnaturally wrong.
A baker handed fresh bread to a customer. The man took it without a word, bit into it mechanically, chewed twice, and walked away with a completely blank expression. No pleasure. No satisfaction. Just motion.
Darius watched carefully from the side of the street. "They are eating. But they are not satisfied. Look at their faces."
Veth grabbed a loaf from a passing cart without asking and tore off a large piece. She chewed once, twice, then spat it out onto the ground. "This tastes like ash. What kind of famine is this? There is food everywhere I look."
A woman nearby overheard them and gave a tired shrug. "Food is not the problem here. Hunger is. We have plenty to eat. It just never fills us. Nothing ever does."
Darius approached the woman slowly, keeping his movements calm. "How long has it been like this in your town?"
The woman looked at him with dull, empty eyes. "Years now. We have grain stores. We have meat. We have vegetables and fruit. We have everything we need to survive. But nothing ever feels like enough. We eat because we have to. Not because we want to."
Mara stayed close to Darius, her voice low. "This is Solis. Famine Incarnate. She does not take the food away. She takes the meaning from it. The joy. The satisfaction."
They continued walking through the town. Storage barns stood full to the brim. Markets functioned normally with people buying and selling. Yet everywhere they looked, the same mechanical detachment showed on every face. Children chewed bread with blank expressions. Families sat at dinner tables in complete silence, pushing food around their plates without enthusiasm.
Darius pointed toward a large warehouse near the edge of town. "Look at the stores. They are untouched for weeks, maybe months. No one is hoarding. No one is panicking. They have supplies but no drive to protect them."
Veth grabbed another piece of bread from a stall and bit into it aggressively. "This should be a feast after days on the road. Instead it tastes like regret and dust."
A local merchant overheard and gave a tired, hollow laugh. "You get used to it. Or you don’t. Either way, you keep eating. Day after day. Year after year."
Darius turned to the merchant. "How long has Solis been active in this region?"
The merchant shrugged weakly. "She walks among us sometimes. A woman of extraordinary beauty with the saddest eyes you will ever see. When she passes through, the hunger gets worse. Not in your stomach. In your soul."
Mara spoke softly, almost to herself. "Unlike my plague, which destroys everything it touches, or Veth’s war, which burns hot and loud… Solis is sorrowful. She does not rage or destroy with fury. She simply empties things."
They left the town behind as evening approached and made camp in a small clearing surrounded by thin, sickly trees. Darius prepared their evening meal carefully from the supplies they had purchased earlier. Veth complained the entire time.
"This bread still tastes wrong," she grumbled, tearing off another piece and tossing most of it aside. "I miss the war. At least there people fought with real passion and hunger."
Mara ate in complete silence, her expression distant and troubled. "The emptiness here is heavier than death. It presses down on everything. On the land. On the people. On the air itself."
Darius sat by the fire, watching both women while studying the surrounding land. "Solis is not just a famine of the body. She is a famine of the spirit. People here have food, but they have lost the joy of eating it. The land is not dying. It is hollow. Empty."
Veth tossed the rest of her bread into the fire with disgust. "Then let us find her quickly and give her a real fight. This quiet, sorrowful emptiness is worse than any battlefield I have ever walked."
Darius shook his head. "Fighting will not solve this. We need to understand her first. This is not destruction like Mara’s plague. This is absence. A deep, aching absence."
That night, Darius woke suddenly from a light sleep. The camp was far too quiet. He sat up slowly and looked around.
All their remaining food supplies had spoiled overnight.
The bread they bought in town was now covered in thick green mold. The dried meat had turned black and foul-smelling. The water in their skins had gone bad, giving off a rotten stench. Everything they carried was ruined.
Everything except one single, untouched meal sitting neatly beside his bedroll.
Darius stared at the perfect portion of food. Steam still rose gently from it, as if it had been freshly prepared only moments ago.
He reached out slowly and picked it up.
A soft, sorrowful voice seemed to whisper on the night wind, though no one else was visible.
"You see me now."
Darius looked out into the darkness beyond the firelight. The land felt hollow. Empty. Filled with a deep, quiet sorrow.
Mara and Veth still slept soundly, unaware of what had happened.
He set the untouched meal down carefully and wiped his hands on his cloak.
Solis was watching them.