Clara had finally arrived to Riverdale, the capital of Amaria. The four gruelling years of getting degraded and treated like an animal were finally over. The last fifteen coins she'd saved rattled in her coin purse as the overcrowded stagecoach continued on the cobbled street. What an amazing feeling, starting a new life. Hopefully one day she could tell her parents why she'd done so. Hopefully.
The stagecoach finally stopped, releasing Clara and five other strangers into the busy streets of this prospering kingdom.
"Sorry, my lady!" A kid said as it bumped into her, immediately stumbling away.
Clara gasped and took a quick few steps towards the dirty-looking boy. "Are you alright?"
The kid, without a single glance back, started running for his life. Clara frowned, unsure what to think of the whole deal. Was she scary-looking to people from here? She turned around, looking for anything reflective, only to find an actual glass in the windows of people's houses. This progress did not reach her homeland Ravaria. At least not outside the noble estates. She took a few steps closer to see her reflection. Yes, she was dirty. Yes, her curly hair was disheveled and greasy. And yes, her simple dress was far from the norm of even the poorest looking commoners around, but she still didn't think she'd be scary to a kid.
"You know," a woman's voice said from behind, "it's quite rude to look into someone's house like this."
Clara immediately straightened, goosebumps appearing on her skin. Was she already in trouble? She turned slowly, expecting a guard in shining armour. Instead, she found a creature that made her gasp. She instinctively took a step back, bumping into the house she just stared into. The woman in front of her grinned a wide smile, revealing her sharp teeth. Weirdly enough, that was the least worrisome thing about her. Her skin was dark. Not like Clara's, but dark red like blood. Her mostly white dress, of the most expensive silks Clara had ever seen, accentuated the surprising colour of her skin. But that was not all. It was only now that Clara had realised there was something moving inside her grey eyes. A flame of some sort.
Clara quickly reached with her hands to the side to grab onto something real as she shuffled away from the woman. She looked exactly like the devils in the stories her grandma used to tell her about. Clara had even noticed horns now, partially hidden by her wide brim hat.
"Oh you poor soul." The woman said, leaning in and offering her hand. "Are you well?"
Clara stared at the hand, seeing the sharp nails that looked sharp enough to cut through steel. "Go away! Please, I don't taste good! I'm pretty sure I taste horrible! I'm sure of it!" Clara let out, pushing herself against the wall.
"Oh..." The woman said, covering her mouth. There was a slight chuckle visible behind her fingers. "What an interesting accent. Don't worry, my dear. I already ate one woman this week. I must say I'm quite satisfied for now."
Clara froze. The devil's careless chuckle made her want to look for the easiest way to escape, but she couldn't look away from her. Why was no one doing anything? Why was-- Her eyes widened. How could she not notice? There were so many men, women and children with similar tone of skin to the woman. And not only that, there were also people walking around with blue skin and wings folded behind their backs. Clara thought she'd seen it all when a tall elven teacher moved to their village, but this...
"I take it you're not from here, are you?" The woman said.
Clara looked back at her, only now realising the woman is standing in a very non-threatening pose. If anything, now that Clara had a proper look at her and not only her singular features, the woman was surprisingly beautiful. She even looked to be around the same age as her.
"I take that as a no?" The woman asked again with a kind smile.
Clara shook her head. "N-no. I'm not." She stuttered out.
"Ah. I might've guessed." She reached into her handbag, pulling out a black fan decorated with a silver thread. "Especially after you let the kid steal from you so easily."
"What?" Clara asked, taking a moment to understand what she'd just heard.
The woman pointed with her fan to Clara's hip. "The purse, sweetie."
Clara gasped as her hand reached down and found nothing but air. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no!" She frantically kept patting her hip and turning around in hopes the purse would appear somewhere, but, as always, she had no luck. "Where is it?" She finally approached the lady, her fear seemingly gone. "Please, have you seen it? Have you seen the kid? Where did it go!"
"Oh dear." The woman said, a smell of burnt wood strong from her mouth. "I'm afraid you'd have more luck finding a needle in a haystack. As much as this pains me to say, consider your purse gone."
"What!" Clara gasped. "That's all I had! My life's work. Gone!"
"Oh dear." The woman said again, waving her fan rapidly. "What a crisis!"
"I need to tell the guards! They have to find the kid!" She kept looking around for any armoured figure, but there were just too many people walking around for her small stature to see anything.
"Calm down, dear. It's just money."
"Just money?!" Clara shouted in disbelief. "I went through hell to get it!"
"Oh believe me, my dear." The woman sighed. "I know what hell looks like and I assure you whatever you've been through, it does not compare."
"Is that supposed to calm me down?"
"Well, sort of. You could always look at the bright side."
"And that is?" Clara said, burying her hands in her curly hair in frustration.
"You're not kidnapped or in jail for example. There are way worse things than losing some coin or two."
"I lost fifteen!" Clara shouted. "I lost fif... I... I lost..." The overwhelming feeling in her chest started building up, making it difficult to speak.
"Sweetie. I'm sure we can do something about that." The woman sighed, closing her fan and spreading her arms. "But first, come here."
Clara began to cry. She didn't want to hear any words of reason. She just wanted to start a new life and it was already shaping to be worse than the last. Without thinking, she took a step towards the woman's inviting arms before stopping immediately. "I'm sorry." She wiped off her tears. "I can't."
"What? Why?"
"I would... I would ruin your dress." Clara sniffed. "I can't afford paying for it."
"Oh you silly, come here." The woman insisted, her arms still apart.
"No... I can't."
Sighing, the woman took her dress skirt and pressed it against her fingers. Then, her nails extended, piercing through. With a swipe of her hand, she ripped open the skirt, revealing her dark red thigh in front of everyone. Countless people turned to the two as they passed by. "Whoops. I suppose this dress is already ruined."
Clara froze. Just the fabric for the skirt alone would take her years of field work to afford. And that did not account the basic needs she'd have to pay for anyway.
"You sweet, silly pie." The woman said and stepped up to Clara, hugging her.
At first she thought of resisting, but the warmth of this embrace was simply overwhelming. Instead of pushing her away, Clara buried her face in the woman's shoulder and started crying.
