For the baker, news of a brewing turf war is a good sign. Hungry fighters are mouths to feed, and so they tend to their ovens and wipe flour from their brows. For the smiths and armorers too, business goes up as neighbors and governesses double up on weapons kept behind doors and under desks, just in case, just in case. Fewer people play on the streets, but the music in pubs and cafes is louder than ever—a good fight deserves a little accompaniment. Flag-makers and seamstresses see a brief upturn in trade as symbols of gangs and factions are hastily embroidered onto collars and lapels. In Marielda’s language of flowers, the azalea has come to symbolise the moment where, just before entering the water, the diver takes one final, deep breath. They are blossoming early this year.
This week on Marielda: War and Azaleas
You better watch your step.
Music by Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal)