Clara’s Story

"Thanks, Hailey." the woman said as she picked up the small baby in her arm. The doctor nodded, then waved the woman away, brushing aside her short dark brown hair. The woman departed, her black dress bouncing against her knees. The stars shone above her as she exited the building and began walking home, and then she saw it, her keen eyes picking it out in the dark. A figure, laying against the bottom of the hill that she was on, and it didn't appear to be moving. Cautiously, she moved towards it. The woman saw that it was a girl, most likely in her teen years, with a knife stuck in her side. Her hand was on top of the wound, with a chain around her wrist. It was connected to her other hand, wrapped tightly around her wrists. The woman wondered if she was still alive until the girl took in a deep shuddering breath. Then she rushed off, careful of the baby in her arm, and came back with the healer. Hailey brought her emergency kit and began to work her magic, healing her wound. The woman put down the baby and started to remove the chains from her wrists, the chain and her hand both sticky with blood.

“That should do it,” said Hailey. The girl’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked at them blankly. Slowly she sat up, feeling her side.

“Take it easy,” the woman cautioned. She picked up the baby again and pocketed the chain. Hailey helped the girl to stand. “This way, one foot in front of the other,” the woman with the baby said. She led the girl inside a quiet building and led her to a small section that was out of the way. The girl just stood there while the woman set the baby back into a crib the next room over. Then she returned and led the girl to the bed. “Hailey’s spells always leave them so dazed.” she mused to herself. She lit a candle to find an extra blanket. Looking over the girl, she had a brown shirt on, though it was stained with blood, and all over her arms were cuts and scars, whip marks. She could see her pointed ears, declaring her elven species. Her wrists still had the chain marks on them. She shook her head, marveling at the abuse that girl had gone through. Then she covered her with a blanket, but the girl was already asleep.

A few hours later, she moaned and turned in the bed, then lay still. Suddenly, she sat up quickly, hitting her head on the low ceiling.

“Ow,” she quietly said as she rubbed her head. She felt her side, then slowly looked down at her hands, her mouth agape.

“Are you alright?” the girl flinched, startled. The woman sat in the chair, there was a book in her lap, and a candle providing light. She regarded the girl sitting up in the bed. “Are you alright?” the woman repeated.

“Y-yes, I-um-” she hesitated.

“We healed the most threatening wounds, but the smaller ones will have to heal on their own. I can’t pay our healer for more than that.” the woman said. The girl nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. She slid off the bed and walked slowly to where the woman was. “Where am I?” she asked.

“You are safe, that is all you need to know right now.” the woman kindly replied. “I will tell you more when you are aware enough to remember it.” again the girl nodded.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine thank you.” there was silence between them.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” the woman added after a moment.

“I was running from, um…” she stuttered, “my vision was getting blurry, when I felt extreme pain in my side. More running, and then-I was here,” she said gesturing to the room around them.

“You are safe here,” she reassured, “even from slave masters.” she glanced at the girl, who dropped her eyes and crossed her scarred arms. The woman knew she had guessed right. She sighed inwardly. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Food, water?” the girl shook her head, then yawned. “Get some rest, answers will come later.” the girl got up and complied, laying down again, and eventually fell asleep.

The girl was up this time, to the sounds of a child speaking. She sat up and looked at the scene before her. There was a little girl fiddling with her long dark brown hair, and her face was red. The woman she met last night was standing over her.

“Well, I was hungry.” said the girl's voice, the woman sighed.

“Hey sister?” said a male voice.

“Yeah Johnathan?” the woman from earlier replied.

“Um, we seem to be short on bacon, but I thought for sure that we had more for today, but maybe I miscounted,” he explained.

“Nope, you didn’t miscalculate. Little miss midnight snack here ate it, raw.”

“You ate it, raw?” he repeated, then sighed a moment later when she nodded.

“You don’t get any more bacon today then.” the woman said, the little girl groaned.

“Johnathan, could you please go to the market quickly and see if you could scrounge something up?” He nodded and then left, a small bag in his hands. The woman left her line of sight, but the little girl spotted her. She walked up to her, and blatantly asked,

“I’m Mia, Who are you?” she turned her head slightly to the left, but kept her dark eyes on the teen.

“I’m Clara,” she replied.

“What happened to you? Where did you get all those marks on your arm?” she asked.

“That’s a long story, that I don’t feel like telling,” Clara replied, looking down at herself for a second.

“Why-” she began again,

“Leave our guest alone, Amelia,” said the woman, interrupting the child.

“Fine,” she said as she stomped off.

“Nicely, please that’s not how we respond.” the girl stopped stomping.

“This is an orphanage or something like that, isn’t it?” the teen asked the woman as the girl stalked off.

“Yes, it is.” again there was silence. “You wait right here.” the woman left and then came back with clothes. “I don’t know how well they will fit you, but at least it doesn’t have blood stains. There is a privacy room right there so you can change,” she said as she pointed. Clara nodded, grabbed the clothes, and headed off in the indicated direction. The clothes were just a simple brown tunic that went almost to her knees and some woolen trousers. She looked to where the knife wound was, but there were no marks. She still had the marks on her arms, legs, and back. She took a deep breath and got dressed.

Jonathan was cooking in the kitchen, working on making the bacon. The kids loved it when they had meat, which wasn’t that often.

“I don’t consider myself a kid anymore huh?” he mused to himself, he began whistling a tune while working.

“When is the food going to be done?” a voice behind him asked. It was Nudge, a Frog Faunly.

“Soon, now get out of the kitchen, or else it will take longer.” he replied.

“Oh-kay,” he said exaggeratingly, but the boy left. He glanced back and saw that Sister was standing in the doorway. He motioned her to forward a little bit.

“I found some sugar for a cheap price,” he said and they both smiled.

“Fantastic, and right in time for Marlea’s birthday. But don’t tell the other children, you know how they are.” they were silent for a moment, and the woman turned to go.

“Sister?” he began, and she turned back to him. “Who’s the new girl?” The smile disappeared from her face, and seriousness replaced it.

“I don’t know, yet.” said the woman. “I found her last night, while I was taking Bella to Hailey’s. The girl was injured.”

“Can I talk to her?” he ventured.

“Um, sure,” she hesitated, “but be gentle, I don’t know her story, but whatever it is, it’s a lot.” Jonathan nodded. “What am I going to do without you?” she smiled at him.

Clara sat, watching the proceedings of the house, from what she could see, which was only the main entrance, and a main room. Mostly she saw kids, running around, being kids. Mia, the girl from earlier was drawing and seemed very intent on it. There were all sorts of ages and species. A couple of Faunlys, a centaur, an elf, a merman, a mimic, and a dragon trainer were just a few of them that she saw. A boy began to approach her, most likely a teen as well. He was a Forger, she knew because he was playing with a small flame around his finger. He extinguished it when he came near.

“I’m Johnathan,” he said.

“Clara,” she replied. They paused. “So, I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.” Clara began.

“Go ahead.” he said gently.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Ghuandalasia, It’s small so you may not have heard of it. We’re in domain 7 if that helps.” Clara nodded.

“It does,” she replied. “So, how many kids are here?”

“18, 19 including you, but as you can imagine, some days it feels like triple that.” Clara smiled a small smile.

“Anyways. Who runs this place?”

“Sister.”

“Sister?” she echoed.

“Oh, right. The woman who runs this place, everyone just calls her sister or mother. The younger ones call her mother, but to those of us who are older, she is more like a sister, so we call her as such.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Autumn, no known last name.” Clara again nodded her understanding. “She runs this place out of her own pocket, the only money she makes is from older kids doing jobs, donations, and adoption fees.”

“Um,” she hesitated. “Are you guys kept here? I mean, would she let you leave if you really wanted to?” she said, wringing her hands.

“I guess, she isn’t unreasonable,” he replied. “Why, do you have someplace you need to be?” he inquired.

“I’m just, getting a feel for the place,” she replied.

“Well, if you have any more questions, you can come and talk to me,” he said, and he turned to go. Behind him, Clara nervously tapped her fingers on her knee.

“Hey, sister?” Jonathan asked. She looked up at him.

“I talked with her, and she seems to feel unsafe, and nervous,” he reported. “You were right when you said to go gently.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Clara.” She paused for a moment, considering.

“Could you and some of the older ones take the kids out? They could go berry picking during nap time, and it will just be the really little kids with me. It will give me a chance to get to know Clara, without distractions.” Jonathan agreed.

“We might be able to stop in the village on the way,” he mentioned, they began to walk towards the door, heading to tell the children. They were near where Clara was sitting.

“Sure,” Autumn said, then she smiled jokingly, “make sure you behave,” she said in a sing-song voice. Jonathan chuckled.

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” he responded in the same manner.

“You might be 17, but I can still whip you!” she said, referring to the classic punishment, usually with a wooden spoon. Johnathan laughed, and ran out the door, but out of the corner of her eye, Autumn saw Clara flinch. She sighed inwardly, this wasn’t going to be easy.