Bound by Shadows
In the small, impoverished village of Ravenwood, wealth and power dictate the lives of all who live under the elite lords of the land. The village was overrun with crime and underground drug dealing, the once beautiful land turned into scum and filth under the leadership of Victor Steel, our so called "beloved", corrupt lord who single most goal appears to be to starve and torture the people who he is meant to care for. Work was hard to come by, or better yet, nearly non existent. Men would wake up before dawn and gather in front of the mansions of the nobility, begging for work to provide some means of food and shelter for their families. Unable to find work, many would join gangs, contributing to the crime which plagued our land. Some would join the kingsgaurd, leaving to die in battle. For the weaker ones, they would turn to drink, abandoning their families choosing to drown themselves into oblivion. Women turn to prostitution, having no other way to provide for their families than through the use of their bodies.
I never understood why people would choose to bring children into this corrupt, wicked world.
I have always been fiercely independent. I never engaged in the silliness of my peers, girls pawning after the boys in our class, lowering their corsets just so the boys could get a glance at their developing bosoms. Despite my efforts to make friends, I was always turned down and even hated by the other girls in my class. After one particularly rough day of bullying, I ran home crying to my mother desperately trying to understand. "They're jealous of you" my mother would say, "you have what they could only hope for". I had never cared for the attention of men, nor have I been liked by women. My mother used to tell me I was a
rare beauty
. I have long black hair that flows down my back, and my skin has a porcelain-like glow. My full lips carry a hint of rose, and my emerald eyes are often described as captivating. I was never short for suitors as a girl, getting multiple proposals sometimes in a single day. But the advances soon stopped once they realized my cool demeanor and several refusals was no longer worth their time. I wasn't always this heartless. When I was a child, I had always dreamed of a life beyond my impoverished upbringing. I longed to live amongst the nobility, to wear pretty dresses made of silk and satin, and eat until I thought my stomach might burst, to go to extravagant parties and..
"Clara! Do you want the bread or don't ya, I ain't got all day." A women with a crooked nose, foul odor, and missing more than a few teeth, screeched at me.
Oh, yeah.
I'm not at an extravagant ball and not wearing an exorbitant gown. I am standing in the middle of a shit laden street, purchasing moldy bread from a wicked old hag who has hated me since she found me trying to steal an apple from her when I was four and on the brink of starvation.
"Here". I shoved a coin at her and attempted to grab the rotting bread from her hands. She quickly pulled back, shielding me from taking what's mine.
"Ah, ah, ah, that'll be 3 shillings from you girl. Lord steel has put a tax on bread, and prices are up. I can't be givin away product for free now." She said grinning.
"That bread isn't worth the shilling I already gave you! I wouldn't even feed that to the pigs-"
"Then it'll be perfect for you, won't it?" she cackled.
I glared at the old women trying to keep myself from reaching out and clawing her eyes out. Instead I reached in my pocket and forcefully threw 2 more coins in her direction. She was unbothered by my gesture, still laughing at her comment.
I turned around starting to walk away when I heard her starting to speak again. "Maybe you could cough up for some proper grub if you put that pretty body to some better use, I know a gentleman who..."
This time I didn't stop myself. I quickly reached over towards the shop, kicking over a barrel of ale letting it spill all into the street while I took off running as fast as my legs would carry me.
"you treacherous little wretch!! Ill have you dead in the streets if I ever see your face round here again!"
I didn't care. I'd rather eat tree bark before I spent another 3 shillings on her spoiled bread. And I have to admit, that did feel pretty good.
I look at my sad loaf of bread, pondering whether I should try to pick of the pieces of mold or risk eating so I could avoid the pains in my stomach preventing me from ever falling asleep. And then there was my father....
My name is Clara Valerius, daughter of Jareth and Elowen Valerius. We were never wealthy, nor did we carry any titles, but we were respected, once... My father was a local merchant, he used to trade goods with the neighboring kingdoms back when there were goods to be traded. My mother, she was one of the most beautiful women who ever graced our lands, or so I've been told. My memory of her has turned into a fading picture of black hair and creamy white skin, much like my own.
And her voice.
I can still hear it, as if she had spoken to me that morning, soft and sing-songy. She used to hum while she did chores around the house, singing me softly to sleep each night. She loved us, and we loved her. My father was never the same after she died. He blames me for her death, he would always tell me "If you weren't such an ill, sickly creature perhaps your mother would have lived." I never meant for my mother to die; I loved her. I loved her more than I have ever loved anything. I know if she were here everything would be different. My father would be different. She would know what to and she could help us..."
BANG
I walked right into something hard. "watch where you're walking, boy!" a man spat at me.
Oh, yeah. That's another thing.
I'm not really a boy, but he doesn't know that. I often dress as a boy, wearing trousers and a plain linen shirt, with a cap to tuck my long, raven black hair in. I've always gotten away with it, except for that old hag who has memorized my entire being against my best efforts. No man would ever imagine a women would ever dress in men's clothes. I started doing this when I turned 12 years of age, when I could no longer stand the lustful looks that were constantly gazing upon me whenever I walked the streets. I stole some old clothes from my fathers wardrobe and have never looked back since.
I stumbled out of the mans way apologizing under my breath, making note to pay more attention for the rest of my journey home.
I soon stumbled upon the old, beaten down shack that I was so lucky as to call my home. I walked slowly up the path, noticing the holes on our roof that grew larger each year, this winter will be an especially difficult one.
I stood at the door, unable to force my legs to step inside. I knew what awaited me there, and I was not yet ready to face it. I took a deep breath and forced myself to step in, not wanting to postpone the inevitable any longer. The door creaked, alerting anyone in the room of my arrival.
"
Clara.
