I had a habit of rising before anyone else. Seeing the disdainful faces of my supposed family was enough to spoil my appetite. So, I left for work early for both their sake and mine.
Grelleth was a terrible woman, a slave driver really, but for all her faults, she never short-changed me on my agreed pay, so long as I worked hard and didn't arrive late. She even gave me a few extra bits in moments of extreme generosity.
Of course, I never informed my mother of this information; my stash was the only thing that kept me from half-starving. As I walked to Grelleth's home, I savored the lack of suspicious eyes condemning me for the crime of being born, which was a great boon to my mood.
Grelleth was a seamstress of reasonable skill. Not the best in town, that was the headman's wife. But she eked out a decent living, even though she was unwed. No husband, no children; I didn't know or care why she never married. Even though, well into her thirtieth summer, she had proposals. Though I was sure they were more interested in her business.
Her store, which was also her home, sat on the north side of the dirt highway. Walking through the front door, I found Grelleth stocking shelves with freshly spun cloth. She was as plain as a woman could be. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a face one would forget as soon as they left the room.
My job had no description; I did what she told me. Sweep the floors, empty the chamber pot, fetch her tea, dust the shelves, rearrange the linens, and wash clothes. She couldn't stand to see me doing nothing, so she would find something without fail. I hated her, of course, but it was mild, tempered since she fed me every midday.
"I have a fresh stock of linens out back; get to washing," she said as soon as I walked in. No greetings, no politeness. Sometimes, I felt like I wasn't even human to her, just another tool for her to use.
I didn't respond--just nodded and walked past her, heading to the backyard. I groaned as I saw the pile of dirty scraps. They were all once pieces of clothing, broken down by Grelleth to be dyed and repurposed. She could, with incredible skill, mix and match patches of cloth to create new items. A peasant girl needs a wedding dress for cheap, come to Grelleth's and you'll find something only other peasants would think was well-made.
Halfway through the large pile of clothes, I heard footsteps approaching. It was such a wonderful change from the monotony of cleaning that I smiled and turned my head.
Sim was standing there, leaning against the fence, his face spread wide with a smile.
"Why're you so happy?" I asked.
He popped the collar of his cotton shirt and said with a self-satisfied smile, "Ma' said I could join."
I shook my head, "You're really doin' it?"
"Yes. I can't stand this village anymore. Mother has a new babe, so either I get married or join up. 'Sides, it's mostly going to be training since I can't be conscripted to fight for another year."
I released a jealous breath from my nose and said, "I wish I could leave."
"You could fake being a boy. But then again, you need your mum to allow it. You're only thirteen summers,"
"Nah, that won't work. Me bein' gone means less coin 'n the house."
"There's another option, but I doubt you'll like it," Sim said.
"What's that? I willin' to do almost anythin'." I asked.
"Marriage,"
I threw a hateful gaze at him. He already had his hands up in submission.
"It's just a suggestion,"
"My dream isn't to marry some dolt and push out children,"
Sim raised a curious eyebrow, "What is it then? You never mentioned you have a dream."
I doubt Sim would be accepting of my idea of burning Farway to the ground. So, I decided to suggest something more understandable, yet true, "I want somethin', Sim. I don't know what it is yet. But it's not this," I gestured to the bucket of linens," Even if I were as pretty as Aalis and Brandon wanted me as a wife; it still wouldn't be what I want."
Sim looked into my black eyes for a moment, then asked, "Is that why you don't like stories?"
"Huh?" I asked dumbly. I didn't expect that response.
He chucked, "Come on now, every time a bard comes to town, you go running."
"They just bore me. Some farm boy finds out he's a long-lost prince, becomes a great Magus, slays the evil lord, and marries a princess." I shrugged.
Sim nodded as if he had reached some kind of brilliant revelation, "You want to be the hero, but you're a girl, and that rubs you wrong."
I smiled maliciously, "Wrong, I want to be the evil lord, so it's not fun that they always lose."
Sim stared at me dumbfounded before my evil smile broke and we both burst into laughter.
After wiping away a tear, Sim said, "I'll ask my mother about your situation. Maybe she has ideas. It's not like the recruiters are coming tomorrow."
I shrugged, "I doubt she has, but I'm willin' to take any suggestion."
I knew my time was running out. Soon enough, I would be of marriageable age, and no doubt they would sell me to the highest bidder. I'm not pretty enough to fetch a high bride price or even a proper husband. I'll sooner open my own throat than be wed to some fat old man. My final option, if all my fears came to fruition, was to simply run.
Set a house on fire as a distraction and disappear. Even if I died in the forest or on the roads, it would be better than this poor excuse of a life. Better to live a short life on your own terms.
After a short silence, Sim said, "I'd better get running, Ed. Training starts early. Before I leave, here,"
Sim pulled out something wrapped in cheap parchment and tossed it to me. I caught it midair, just as I was about to ask what it was. Sim was already gone.
I stared at the brown parchment in confusion and opened it. My stomach lurched as I caught the scent. It was a meat pie, still warm, likely freshly made. I grimaced for a moment, hating the charity.
I would sooner starve than beg for a meal or walk the streets naked than accept gifts of clothing. Sim knew this, and that's why he ran. I couldn't waste it. I took a moment to thank him. My pride was something that usually worked to my detriment, but Sim sometimes found ways around it. Offering me needed assistance while allowing me to maintain it.
If someday I did burn this village to the ground, I intend to spare his home.
~
"What?" I asked. I couldn't understand the words coming out of Grelleth's mouth.
We were sitting in her kitchen in the middle of our midday meal, "I said what I said, girl: take the rest of the day,"
"And you ain't gonna dock my pay?" I asked again. In the year I worked for her, she never gave me free time. She sighed as if speaking to a particularly stupid child.
"Yes, I speak truth. The day is slow and there's nothing for you to do, no point in having you sit around doin' nothin',"
Knowing that she was not going to budge, I nodded, "Ok."
Even if she docked my pay, there was nothing I could do anyway. I shrugged, gave her a farewell, and left her store.
Getting employed by her was a spot of good luck that I didn't want to spoil. Sure, she paid me half of my worth and worked me twice as hard, but it was consistent. She was even willing to lie to my mother's face about how much she was paying me. Which allowed me to secure a meal and secret a few coins away into my stash.
As I walked along the road, ignoring the cold stares and upturned noses, I considered what to do with the next few hours.
The meat pie and the meal were enough for me to feel satisfied. Eventually, after reaching the edge of town, I walked into the forest. And truly considered how to get out of the clutches of my family.
Try as I might, I couldn't find any. The empire was at peace, so no one would recruit women out of desperation. Crime would only end with me in chains.
I stopped and looked up at the azure sky. The massive oaks extended like leafy fingers reaching toward the heavens.
I asked no one, "What do I do?"
No one answered; it's not like I expected anything else. Ideally, I could run away and find work in one of the larger towns. But who would hire me? I can't read or write. I was good with numbers. I could even count to a thousand and do adds and takeaways pretty fast.
Toying with a lock of my finger-length hair, I wondered.
After hours of contemplation, I decided to head home. I had chores to do, and delaying them won't get them done faster.
After exiting the forest and navigating the trees, I walked along the dirt road, taking the longest path home.
The streets were busy, shops lined the streets, and others hawked their wares. Tinkers sold their goods, and there was even a traveling troupe performing some mummery on a small stage. I could even see a bit of commotion and hear some music from the Farway Inn.
They all worked hard to create a living in this cruel world. I often wondered what breaks in a person for them to be content to spend their lives like this. Wake, work, eat, then sleep. Everyone followed the monotonous pattern for most of their lives until they died. Where did a child's dream end and the adult's despair begin?
Every boy I knew wanted to be some kind of gallant hero. Every girl wanted to be a princess. When did that boy suddenly decide that his dreams weren't real, and a butcher's life was for him? When did that girl decide to marry a butcher and not a prince? Did anyone really have a choice?
"Oi, girl. A bit for a story?" An elderly voice to my left said.
Usually, I wouldn't bother with the traveling merchants, but few strangers realized I was a girl, so I turned to face the man.
The cart behind him looked like it was falling apart at the seams. The goods on the canvas mat were, at best, worthless garbage. And his horse, a little more than a half-dead nag. He wore grey fabric robes, even though they covered everything but his head, I could tell he was naught but skin and bones.
His eyes were half clouded with blindness. It was rather impressive that he lived to such an old age.
"I don't like stories," I said, then turned to leave.
"I promise you'll like this one. I've traveled far and wide. I know just the right one for a lass like yourself," he said, then grinned, revealing a mouth with only three teeth.
I rolled my eyes. "Tell me the first half. If it's good, I'll pay you for the rest. If it isn't, you pay me for wastin' my time. Deal?"
He broke into laughter, which quickly devolved into fits of coughing, "That's a deal, little miss. I know just the one for you."
He sat on a wooden stool and held my eyes as he spoke.
"
Long ago, during the time of Axe and Bone. The world was drenched in war. Kings and queens sent armies across the rivers and seas in search of plunder and power. Flaketh, The Crimson Maiden, led her armies across the Agean sea, fleeing from the constant conflict. She landed on this continent we now call Uraiel. Flaketh thought herself great; she was the first human to set foot upon this land and believed it belonged to her. But it turned out this continent was not empty. There were people here. Not humans, something different; something greater.
"
"I know the story. The Avahians nearly wiped them out until Aniar blessed her people with magic," I said.
He shook his head, "You believe the stories told by the temple too quickly, child."
I sniffed," Oh really, what's the truth then?"
He smiled and continued.
"The Avahians looked strange, almost human at a glance, but it did not take long before Flaketh realized they were much more. Avahians used magic as easily as you and I breathe. With gestures, they could light a fire. With a word, they could call down lightning. Flaketh couldn't believe her eyes and wanted that power for herself. She bargained to learn. The Avahians, not used to treachery, accepted the simple gifts in exchange for knowledge. And so Flaketh, the first Magus, was born.
"
Nothing he said matched the sermons from the temples. If any priest or priestess heard his words, he could be accused of blasphemy. I shook my head, "I thought you had to have noble blood to be a Magus."
He chuckled, "Anyone beyond this small hamlet knows this is a lie. Come now, you don't seem the type to believe everything you hear on a whim."
While the supposed true history behind the human-Avahian war was interesting. A new thought, I had never contemplated, entered my mind. I had to ask, "Can anyone become a Magus then?"
His smile turned a little more mischievous than I would like, "Yes. In the same way, anyone can be a master swordsman, but few ever become one."
My heart began to beat wildly. "How do I become a magus then?"
He smiled, "All magic is built on sacrifice. What would you give for that power child?"
He didn't really answer my question. But I answered his, regardless, "Anythin'. Everything."
"What if you have to give up your family, friends, and lovers? Would you do it?" He asked.
I thought of the wretches in this village and smiled wickedly, "Easily."
"I think I see it, child. You have the temperament. You have that spark, the hunger. You would make for a terrifying Magus," he said.
I looked him up and down, "Are you a magus?" I asked.
He lost his aura of mystique and burst into laughter, "No, no child if I was a Magus do you think I would be squatting in this backwater selling stories and worthless crap for coin. No, I'm just an old man who's seen much."
I had to admit I was disappointed. For a moment, it felt like I was in a story, and this old man was a part of my destiny or some such nonsense.
Sighing, I asked, "Fine then. How does someone become a Magus?"
With a smile, he held a hand out, "I think that counts as the first half of the story. No?"
I looked at his hand and then at his self-satisfied smile. It was then that I realized I was being played. Even though I knew he was taking me for a turn. If I had the coin, I would drop it in his hand at that moment. Magic was such a secretive thing. Almost no one knew how it worked. Save for the nobles and the Magi themselves.
I bit my lip, hating that I fell for his play so easily. I sighed and admitted, "I don't have coin on me, but I can fetch it."
"Well, you better run quickly, girl. I might not be here when you return. The sun is setting, and I need to be on my way."
Before I turned to get some coin, I asked, "Can you swear that you will tell me the truth?"
He placed a hand upon his heart, "By Aniar's name, I swear to tell you the truth as I know it."
I looked into his clouded eyes, unsure if he could see me. I supposed that would have to do. I gave him a nod and said firmly, "I'll be right back. Do. Not. Leave."
Without waiting for a reply, I took off running.