Marcel never knew his parents. Never had a place he could call home nor adults he could depend on. Rather, he swung from one family to another, tasting their fruits, only to be tossed aside to the ground once he proved too difficult. A vagabond by birth, Marcel never knew what it meant to live a stable life.
Living in the Brinks was anything but safe, especially for a bastard. Too many mouths to feed. Too few homes to house. A wrong turn at night can cost you a leg. Close your eyes at night and you might never see again. Better to sell your own body and reap the benefits. But even then, there was no way to escape those tortuous winter months where nature took artistic pleasure in making frozen statues of residents unlucky enough to not have a roof over their heads.
It was impossible to survive alone. Marcel realized this as he lay against a wilting trees, his legs as heavy as boulders, blisters covering his arm and face with that burning sensation coursing through every tendon in his body. He closed his eyes and accepted that it was not his fate to enter the Cathedral.
“Don’t you dare die!” The voice commanded Marcel’s eyes to open. The image of a young girl dressed in a large grey blanket fluttered into view. First, Marcel noticed the eyepatch covering her left eye. Second, the curly brown hair kept back by a blue ribbon. Third, the grey gloves around her hands which came ever closer to his face as she knelt down.
“Oh, thank Manha you’re awake. Here, have this.” The girl handed Marcel a piece of wrapped up tissue.
Marcel opened it. Inside was a palm-sized piece of pork meat, a smaller circle of moldy orange cheese and a wooden bowl of water. Marcel inhaled the nourishment given to him.
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“Thank you.” Marcel coughed up the words.
“Not yet.” The girl grabbed his hand. “Come with me. I’ll take you to someplace warm.”
***
It had been five months since he last stayed in a house. Wrapped in a blue blanket, sitting down on the stone floor feet apart from the girl who saved him, Marcel felt tense. He sat in an unfamiliar building, completely unarmed and too weak to fight back.
“Why did you save me?” Marcel tried to think of any bargaining chips he had at his disposal. Nothing. He was completely at this girl's mercy.
“Because you were dying, dumbass.” She inched towards him but Marcel backed away.
“What do you want from me?” The girl sighed.
“Nothing, jeez. I was just trying to do a good deed. I guess this is my punishment.” She pulled out the blue ribbon, letting her curly hair flow down to her middle back.
“Nevermind, you read right through me. The true reason why I saved you is to have my own personal sex slave to fulfill my nymphic desires. Just wait right here and I’ll get the whip and black boots.”
Marcel shakily jumped to his feet. He struggled to keep his arms up.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I was joking.” She rolled her eyes as Marcel stumbled to his knees.
“Jeez, is every lonely bastard out there this distrusting?” She rushed to Marcel and placed her hand on his forehead. Marcel didn’t have the strength to resist.
“So cold. A few more minutes out there and you’d be a goner.” She stepped back, staring at Marcel with concerned eyes.
“I know it's a bit late to introduce myself, but my name is Mya M. Mariposa. Beautiful right? Once, or if, you recover, we can talk more about you and your name and have a nice little chit-chat, right? Anyhow, get some rest. Don’t worry, I won’t bite unless you want to. That’s a joke too, by the way.”
Marcel had no choice. He fell asleep at the behest of his scary savior.