Chill air blew in through the broken window above the young girl’s bed. There were times when she would wake up and find small flakes of frost coating her coarse, brown hair. Those were the real bad times. Her bed had been labeled Bed 3 in row F, the final row, and unfortunately for her, the one right below the window with the broken, dangling shutters. Not that dinky, wooden shutters would have done a good job of keeping the freezing outside air from seeping in, but it would have been better than nothing. It was a constant problem that the adults continuously put-off. Whether it was done out of malice, neglect or sheer laziness, she could never surmise. The one and only courtesy she had been shown in an attempt to remedy the problem was being allowed an additional blanket for her bed. It was a pathetic excuse for a rag, but at least with the extra covering there was somewhat of a sizable difference. It was one of the few small victories she relied on to prevent her from completely breaking down.
She never really found anything good to say about the orphanage she was in. It was a very old, very decrepit gothic-styled building constructed of weathered stone that had been operating on the street for centuries, taking in and spitting out a countless number of children since its conception. One of the many state-run institutions that, after a while, tends to become less of a benefit and more of a hindrance to the country in terms of resources. For each new orphan, there was an ever-increasing strain on the desire for charitable donations and while the Scarlet Church did what they could, there was only so much capital they were willing to part with. Moreso was it a problem in a militaristic nation like Malachias, whose children were often victims to the loss of parents to war—either directly or indirectly. A fact that lamentably extended to the young girl’s parents as well—lamentable if she could remember even the tiniest bit of detail about them. She could at least count her lucky stars that the parents she had never known, along with being minor casualties of war, had also both been soldiers. Soldiers that had fought and died in some such battle or another to capture/liberate—the details hadn’t exactly mattered enough for her to remember. No—to her, they had just been two irresponsible humans in a dangerous occupation who went and made the idiotic decision to conceive a child—and therein lies where she struck out. For being a soldier of Malachias came with certain benefits and one of those grim but lucky benefits had afforded her a slight bit of privilege. The serendipitous privilege in the form of not being another beggar child on the street.
It was an unfortunate circumstance that most of the children in the orphanage shared. But shared tragedy does not always a friendship make. Despite her many attempts at making friends, most of the children were too busy wallowing in their own misery to so much as give her the time of day. Everyone except one chubby-cheeked young boy.
“Lucia!” The preciously rotund lad called out to her. “How’d you sleep? Was my blanket enough to keep you warm?”
"It helped I guess," replied Lucia, sitting up in bed and shaking her hair clean. It felt like she had just woken up from a really bad dream. She picked up the blanket he had lent her, which seemed to have fallen to the floor during her nightly tossing and turning. The so-called blanket was in even worse condition than the extra she had received from the adults. It was extremely worn and full of holes. He claims it was like that when he first got the bed, and she’d have asked him for a better one if he could spare it, but it seems she was gifted the only one in his possession. "Hugo, what time is it? Did you eat breakfast yet?"
Who am I kidding? Of course you did, she thought, looking away while trying to contain a smirk.
"It's 4 after sunrise. Everyone ate breakfast an hour ago."
"And I suppose no one was kind enough to save me any, were they?"
"W-Well." The boy blushed. "I hid a hardboiled egg, just for you. I figured you'd probably sleep through again."
He handed her the egg, which she began to peel at furiously.
"Is this it? You couldn’t have eaten a little less…?" She looked unsatisfyingly at him for a second. "Well… thank you. You're the only one that seems to do anything for me in this dump."
"Me? No, of course. No problem! Sorry I couldn't fetch you more. I was barely able to sneak away with that extra egg. I'll just give you mine next time. You probably need it more than I do."
Lucia smiled at him. He did his best to amuse her when she was feeling down and she appreciated him for it. He was like a loyal pet who did pretty much anything she asked for. She bit into the small egg and was swiftly disappointed over how cold it seemed to have gotten over the past hour. Still, it was better eating from the warmth of her bed rather than in the chilly refectory. Going for a second and final bite, she noticed he was patiently staring at her as she ate.
"What? Did you need something?" she asked.
He jumped at the sound of her voice.
"A-Actually," he stammered. There's something I wanted to show you later if you aren't busy…?"
"Show me?" she said while chewing. "Yeah, I guess I can take a look. If you think it's worth my while."
"Yeah! It's something really cool. I promise." His round face was beaming. "Meet me in the courtyard in an hour. I'm gonna show you something that'll make your yellow eyes sparkle."
Lucia very much doubted this, but she figured she would give him the benefit of that doubt and see what had gotten him so excited. If he thought it would be enough to impress her, maybe it might shake off her boredom after a fashion.
“Children!” called a throaty voice from within. “Grab your Scarlet Bible and gather in the common room for study!”
Lucia quickly jolted from her bed, teeth chattering as the cold assailed her body, and began rummaging through the drawer situated under her bed. Half buried under the folded piles of drab clothing was an aging tome bound in red leather with gilt-edged pages. Embellished on the book’s cover was a singular closed eye made of a golden-colored metal. The same metal decorated its corners and made up the twin clasps sealing it shut. She clutched the bible close to her breast while uttering a prayer before gently sitting it onto the bed and pulling out a lightly-faded pink frock along with a beaten sweater from the open drawer. She had faith that she would be leaving this place one day—Hopefully to a better life.
After almost an hour of intense scripture, Lucia was instructed to make the Sign of Macha in parting, the usual religious gesture of placing one hand on each eye and to lift one’s head upwards towards the sky, before her and the others were finally released to go about their day. The young girl went out onto the balcony and looked at the sodden garden path below—an almost dead, faraway look in her eyes. She watched drearily as a few of the children did the best they could to entertain themselves. Some played with dirty, stained toys while others just dug mindlessly in the snow. There was absolutely no sign of modern conveniences on the premises which meant that most days for Lucia were filled with mindless boredom and undefined reflections—the kind typical of a young child.
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Just as she was about to head inside due to the cold nipping at her nose becoming an increasing annoyance, she spotted her admirer, Hugo, wandering around and searching for something. She recalled his mention of a mind-blowing surprise waiting for her and swiftly made her way downstairs and out the door to greet him.
“Hugo!” she yelled, sneaking up behind him and grabbing him by the shoulders. The sudden call had made him jump, causing the young lad to make an involuntary sound akin to a frightened animal caught in a trap.
Hugo was a boy of 11 years who was only a few months older than Lucia and a tad bit shorter. But where he lacked in height, he made up for in width. He was a chubby child who had lived there for over a year now, with dark hair, violet eyes, a large forehead and a small mouth he was always using for apologies. His weight would often make him a target for the older children, who would on occasion take large portions of his food and state their excuses as him having “eaten enough.”
Lucia, in her endless benevolence, had decided to befriend the poor lad, as she knew the charity would set her in Macha’s good graces. An act that he probably appreciated a great deal more than she did.
“L-Lucia!” he stuttered. “I was just looking for you. I hope you weren’t waiting too long; I know you were really looking forward to this.”
“Not too long,” she replied, smiling sweetly, “but in lieu of an apology I expect half your lunch now too.”
“No problem!” he chuckled while placing his hand on his belly. “I’ve eaten enough food in my life to last me a while anyway.”
“Well?” She looked at him coyly. “What was it you wanted to show me?”
The boy looked around, making sure the other children were well and truly distracted, before boldly grabbing Lucia by the hand and pulling her towards the end of the premises, near the outer wall of the orphanage. In that spot was a miniature glade surrounded by trees and hidden behind a large statue, semi-blocked off by deep shrubbery that thinned and weakened during the winter—just enough for them to push themselves beyond it and enter.
The area was fairly empty save for a couple of articles of old clothing and Lucia wondered if the spot itself was what he was attempting to show off to her.
“Wooow,” she exclaimed with fake astonishment. “Is this supposed to be your hidden club house?
Hugo brought a finger to his lips, a gesture that both surprised and annoyed Lucia.
She cocked her head in confusion. Curiosity had begun to burn through her.
He slowly crept up to one of the tattered shirts on the ground that on closer inspection appeared to be shifting in minute movements.
“Oh, Goddess! Watch out! There’s something creeping under there.”
She raised her eyebrow as she watched him pull the cloth back to reveal a small, mewling creature. It was a young perrin puppy, freshly awoken from its docile slumber. It was very fluffy for its age with fur the color of dying leaves in autumn and a nose whose wetness had most likely dried up from the cold. Curiously, it was missing an eye—no doubt due to some prior injury. Its antlers were still only buttons.
Is this it? she wondered, still confused. She looked over at Hugo who was beaming at the small thing with no break in concentration.
“Isn’t it super adorable?” he asked her, finally tearing his gaze away to posit his question.
“Yeaah, it sure is.” She faked a smile. She looked at it and could only see a living bag of germs and parasites, contaminating everything with its drool.
The elation in his voice soared thinking he seemed to agree with her.
“I found him here the other day. I usually come to this spot when I wanna be alone and one day I heard him crying and found him all beat up next to a small hole in the wall. I think he was chased in here by something bigger. I wonder if he has any family…”
“Wait, you knew about this place and never told me about it? I thought we were friends!”
“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered. This is really just a place so I can—I didn’t think you’d like it here. It’s so cold out here and I thought you preferred staying inside every day—”
“Why would that matter?” She cut in. “You think I don’t get lonely? Excuse me for wanting to spend more time with you.”
“Really?” he asked, shocked.
“Don’t seem so surprised,” she barked. “I have feelings too. More than I can say for this little creature.”
“Hey!” He chuckled reluctantly. “Don’t talk like that in front of him. He’s been through enough already, I’m sure your words aren’t gonna help.”
“Huh?” There was a hint of irritation in her voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt its feelings.”
“He’s not an ‘it.’ Please, be a little more sensitive to his feelings, Lucia.”
“You’re right. He's an adorable little mongrel."
"W-What's a mongrel?"
"How exactly do you expect to even take care of that thing—him? You can't feed him. You barely have enough food to feed us!"
"I can split enough for the three of us! I promise!"
"You can't even take him inside. If they catch you with him, you'll get into endless trouble. What if you're not allowed to see me after that?"
"It'll be fine! That's why I keep him here. I can bring him food and play with him during free time."
"What if whatever was hunting it comes back for it? It's just food for the bigger animals that come from outside."
"He's not an 'it.' I'll protect him. I'll do everything it takes for him to be safe."
"What about me?"
"You can protect him with me if you want."
Lucia huffed and stood ready to leave. "You know what? You were also right about me preferring the warmth of the inside. I think I'll head back now. My face is already numb."
"Oh… Sure. Come back here tomorrow and we can have more fun with him."
Fun? The thought disgusted her. With that little mutt? Gross.
She pushed her way back through the dead brush, leaving the boy with his new friend, and headed toward the path back inside.
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Later that night, after she made sure most everyone had gone to bed, Lucia quietly put on her coat and shoes and stepped back outside into the large garden courtyard. She walked off the path toward the back wall. Every step through the snow filled her with slight irritation as the damp snow entered her shoes and wet her feet. Jealousy had been gnawing away at her the rest of the day until finally she decided the best solution was to make sure she would be the only person he had in his heart.
The immense darkness of night had almost completely blinded her. If not for the pale lights of the scarcely seen twin moons, coupled with her knowledge of the area by heart, she might have gotten herself helplessly lost. With blistering resolve, she finally made her way to the decaying barricade that was keeping the entrance hidden to prying eyes. She rushed through it, paying the price with scratches on her skin–another vexation she blamed on the lowly creature. She found it resting in the same spot under the old discarded shirt where last she saw it.
Carefully pulling the cloth back to make sure it was truly still there, she scoffed at its pathetic state.
"Does he really think you're all that special?" the orphan girl muttered. "How could Macha allow a stupid beast like you free reign? To entrap the feelings of a stupid boy. You'll probably make him sick or hurt him somehow."
She replaced the cloth in its original position and gently began feeling over it for the shape of the young pup underneath. She felt out the position of his throat and wrapped her small hand around it. She pressed down firmly, feeling it squirm under her grasp.
"Ugly. Dumb. Stupid. He thinks you can replace me?"
She pushed down with both hands, putting her entire body weight down on the struggling creature. It took what felt like forever for the animal to slowly cease its movements. She pulled at the cloth once again to make sure its body was bared to the elements. She sat there in the cold, staring at it with contempt before flashing a wicked smile. Having completed her grisly deed, she finally went back to her bed to sleep soundly.
"Lucy!"
Wait… I remember this… I told him it had probably frozen to death. He had a hard time believing me and we drifted apart very quickly after that. I spent another year all alone there until I was finally picked up by Mother…
"Wake up! You have to move! Quickly!"
Her eyes were glazing over. Something had struck her with the force of a speeding velorail. There was a bitter numbing pain radiating from one of her arms. It was hard to feel and she wondered if maybe Zules had used her power on her to reduce the pain. She couldn’t even lift her head to look at her injury. Her body was weakening and she wondered why that memory had suddenly flashed in her mind. Was it true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes when you’re about to…? She struggled to open her mouth and mumbled the only thing that came to mind.
“Hugo…” Her voice, escaping with her soul, was barely above a cry.