{"id":1828,"date":"2026-02-28T10:39:52","date_gmt":"2026-02-28T15:39:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/?p=1828"},"modified":"2026-02-28T10:39:52","modified_gmt":"2026-02-28T15:39:52","slug":"broth-bread-and-apple-cake","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/?p=1828","title":{"rendered":"Broth, Bread, and Apple Cake"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Another in-setting fiction piece from the player behind Magda (and Betsy), in which Magda shares a decision.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Magda\u2019s sling lies on a table in the hostel\u2019s common room, discarded in favor of mobility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her left arm is wrapped in bandages from her wrist to her elbow, but she can still hold an apple steady and work the knife with the other hand. Or hold a slice steady while she pierces it with the blunt needle and pulls the twine through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She drapes the string of slices across a pan, picks up the knife again, and reaches for another apple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Under the bandages, her arm twinges oddly. Part pain, part electricity, part heat. She drops the apple on the cutting board with a muttered \u201ck<\/em>urwa ma\u0107<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From behind her, Red\u2019s voice says, \u201cYou know, the point of the sling is to keep that from happening.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cThese apples aren\u2019t going to dry themselves,\u201d she says as he comes over to sit on the bench opposite her. \u201cAnd everyone else is out in the fields.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd you don\u2019t know how to rest,\u201d he chides gently. \u201cHow are you feeling?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFine. It only hurts if I move it a lot. Mostly, it itches<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s a good sign.\u201d He watches her for a moment. \u201cDo you want help with that? I could slice while you string.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She pauses, thinks about it, then sets the knife down on the cutting board to slide it across the table. \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s entirely selfish. I\u2019ll be enjoying the literal fruits of my labors this winter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She smiles and picks up the string of apple slices.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They work in companionable silence for a while. Magda measures her string by eye, ties it off, and picks up the next length of twine. She runs it through her fingers a few times, slowly, before poking it at the large eye of the needle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been meaning to come talk to you,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh?\u201d Red positions an apple half on the board. \u201cWhat about?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Both needle and twine are shaking slightly. She stops and rests her hands on the table. \u201cIf it won\u2019t cause too much difficulty for you and the others…I\u2019d like to stop going out in the field. Scouting. Exploring. Fighting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The knife pauses, resting on the cutting board. Red studies her face. \u201cIs it the last one that\u2019s bothering you?\u201d he asks gently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes and no.\u201d She gives a small, crooked smile. \u201cWhen I joined Strzelec,<\/em> it was because everyone I knew was joining. I loved my homeland. I wanted to protect it. But that country doesn\u2019t exist anymore. We all know that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I joined you and Leks and Minka, I thought fighting was all I had to offer. I was trained. I was young. It was my contribution to the group.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She rolls the large needle between her fingertips, watching the dull surface reflect the orange glow of the lantern light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf I\u2019m honest…I didn\u2019t care very much whether I lived or died. I thought of myself as a body. Warm or cold, it didn\u2019t matter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Red\u2019s jaw tightens, but he says nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut now\u2026\u201d She glances toward the door at the back of the room. \u201cAntonina and Kazimiera can cook, yes. Tamara is learning. But they can\u2019t run the kitchen as well as I can. I know how much flour we have left. I can turn meat scraps and old potatoes into good soup. I know who needs an extra ladle and won\u2019t ask.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She meets his eyes. \u201cIf I die fighting strange things on a hilltop, Ponikla loses more than a rifle. It loses broth, and bread, and apple cake at Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Red takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and nods. \u201cI thought about that,\u201d he says quietly. \u201cThe half-dozen times I nearly lost you. I\u2019d rather not do that again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looks down at the cutting board and absently repositions the waiting half apple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cScouting isn\u2019t a higher rank than keeping people fed. It\u2019s just louder.\u201d A faint, tired smile touches his face. \u201cIf you stay, I\u2019ll sleep better knowing someone who can bullseye a BTR gunner is here to defend the place.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He meets her gaze again, steady and warm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe need you. However you choose to serve.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Another in-setting fiction piece from the player behind Magda (and Betsy), in which Magda shares a decision. Magda\u2019s sling lies on a table in the hostel\u2019s common room, discarded in favor of mobility. Her left arm is wrapped in bandages from her wrist to her elbow, but she can still hold an apple steady and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[105],"tags":[36],"class_list":["post-1828","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-kaserne-on-the-borderlands","tag-guest-post"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1828","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1828"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1828\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1829,"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1828\/revisions\/1829"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1828"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1828"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libellus.de-fenestra.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1828"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}