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voice sounded more serious than his facial expressions would suggest.
    Just like Nea as a child, Zippi protested because he did not get any wine. There is no grape juice, so he would have to be satisfied with milk. Actually, Nea would rather drink milk than wine, but did not want to be rude. It is certainly difficult to get wine, and Luica has already poured the glass. She and Harold cheer to their family, and then cheer Nea on with a successful journey.
    Nea takes a sip and immediately recalls why she did not like the stuff as a child. It is acidic and tastes nothing like the grapes from which it was manufactured. Nea tries not to distort her mouth in disgust. Harold, however, closes his eyes on his first sip appreciatively and Luica sighs. “Delicious! The longer we carry it with us, the sweeter it gets,” she says, immediately taking a second sip. “Nea thinks, “If it’s true what they are saying, I would not want to know what the wine tasted like a year ago.”
    “You do not like it?” Luica asks when she notices Nea’s doubting face.
    “It’s new for me, I do not often drink wine,” she tries to make an excuse and overcomes her dislike enough to take another sip.
    “Well, hopefully you do not get used to it too much, it is hard to get hold of in this world. Hardly anyone makes wine anymore, and the old supplies are running low. That’s one of the reasons we trade with the Carris. This wine is from their own vineyards.”
    “They need it for their ceremonies,” Harold adds.
    “Living with the Carris is not too bad. You have a roof over your head and you do not have to worry about a growling stomach, as long as you stick to their rules and worship Ereb,” Luica adds.
    Nea shakes her head. “Ereb is a man like any other, so I do not know why I should worship him as a god. Also, I do not like being locked up somewhere, whether I have a full stomach or not.”
    The two nod. “We understand you. Our freedom means more to us than anything else, which is why we operate our trade. Dealing with them is the only way to secure our life.”
    “But one thing I do not understand. You want to be free, but still you take the long journey to Promise. You do not know if the city really is as you imagine. There you’re just as trapped as the Carris, only they have technological bells and whistles,” Luca looks questioningly at Nea.
    “You cannot compare Promise with Dementia. The people in Promise are intelligent and evolving. They are looking for a logical explanation for everything, not propping up their leader as a god to be worshipped. Promise is trying to return life to the way it was before the plague, not catapulting society back to the Middle Ages, as the Carris are doing.” Nea defended her dream. For her, there is nothing to hope for except Promise.
    Even though they disagree, Harold and Luica drop the subject.
    “Drink your wine, otherwise it will get stale,” Luica says, winking conspiratorially to Nea. She and Harold have already emptied their glasses. Zippi is tired and is leaning on Luica. Nea takes a breath, and then downs the entire contents of her glass down her throat. It burns her esophagus, but it is soon over, leaving only the bitter taste of wine.
    As Luica and Harold pack up the dishes, Nea decides to help, but as soon as she gets up, everything starts to spin around her and her legs become quite heavy. She bobs and weaves and is soon caught by Luica on her side. “Well, well! Someone is slightly drunk. Come, I’ll take you to your bed,” she says laughing and leads Nea away from the fire and into the tent. She leads Nea to the sleeping place protectively. Luica caringly spreads a blanket over Nea before she sinks into a deep sleep.

Four
    S lowly Nea comes around. Her head is humming as though a train went through it. He hands and her back hurt terribly. She wants to stretch, but she soon realizes she cannot. She can hardly move. Immediately panic comes and chases away the fog in her