Her name was Yora, or it had used to be.

Her biological mother didn't bother to give her one, and neither her adoptive father who took her out of the slum.

Here, in Audville, she was known as Ceila, a name given by a random little girl she met when she first came to the village. And so the word spread, and she was unable nor willing to correct it. She accepted the name as her new identity, praying she would become a different person than she had used to be.

Here, she was a hunter, an occupation that was just the same as her adoptive father. Their role in the village was mostly to provide meat and pelt, paid by whoever wanted to get the goods through a barter. Her adoptive father, whose name many months later she learnt was Carl, taught her the whole trade of hunting.

From the age of five to eight, he taught her how to skin the prey he hunted.

From the age of eight to eleven, he taught her how to shoot, make, and maintain a bow.

From the age of eleven to thirteen, he taught her how to track a prey and traverse the wilderness.

And at the age of fourteen, he released her into the woods as a full fledged hunter with her own hunting territory, along with the meat and pelt quota she must met as her responsibility to the village.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Despite the nine years she had spent living in Audville, she didn't have a sense of kinship or attachment to anybody there. Why would she?

Throughout the years she would accidentally heard the women of village badmouthing her, thrown out daughter of filthy harlot they said. Sometimes it would be about her appearance, her yellow hair and eyes were only good to seduce men they said. Her muddy background cast a feeling of superiority on their mind, and her unexpected beauty cast jealousy on their heart.

Throughout the years she would receive complains from the men of the village about her being a hunter, unfit they said. Sometimes it would be about the quality of meat and pelt they unwillingly got from her through a barter, bad they said. Her success in debatably the coolest trade in the village cast a feeling of inferiority on their mind, and her fair body and face cast strong desire to get her into marriage, albeit through pressure and belittlement.

Nobody in the Audville managed to sow the seed of affection and sincerity on her heart, not even her adoptive father.

In the not so surprising nor dramatical revelation moment, she learnt that he adopted her out of spite with the village chief. Apparently, the chief had two sons, and the first had been decided to be the successor of the family's farm, so the second had to look for other occupation or else he had to get out of the village. Carl was the only one who had no family, so the chief put a pressure on him to take his second son as his successor.

Not liking the chief's forceful persuasion, he schemed to make a comeback, a hurtful one. When the time for periodical visit to nearby city to get various needs that cannot be done in the village finally came, he took it as his opportunity. At the city, he loitered around its back alley, and there she met the five years old her. A skinny, stink, ragged-clothed little girl. He brought her back to the village and made her his successor. Here, look, a thrown out child is better and more capable than your prided son, or so he wanted to say to the chief.

And so the first fourteen years worth story of her life in this new world went so far. Nothing worth noting, just people being petty, a normal phenomenon.