This is the story of me, Nova. I’m an urchin, and I’m a half-elf, which makes me a double outcast. My life isn’t all that exciting, so I don’t know why you’d want to read about it, but hey, humor me.
As I ran through the streets of Pelganthia, an ocean of rain fell on my back. The city guard was only twenty feet behind me, his iron armor virtually silent for the mud that covered it. Lanterns lit the entire area, leaving nowhere for me to hide. I let my hand touch the wet, rough brick wall to my right, feeling for a crack, an alley, anything.
Soon my hand fell to air. I ran down the alleyway until I ran into the damp wall in front of me. It was a dead end I hadn’t mapped out in my mind yet, and the guard was just turning into the alley. I slunk into the farthest corner possible, where no light shone. He smiled as he said, “I got you, urchin. If you come out, I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Yeah? Well what are you going to do? I thought as he neared me. You aren’t as sweet as your trying to seem, and I’m not dumb.
“Come on, girl, I don’t want to cause trouble,” he said, only ten feet away.
Yes you do. I’ve heard this a million times. You want to ruin my life. I looked around for anything to defend myself with. There was only the poorly made wall and they dark sky above.
“Don’t try anything,” his voice now showed his cold intentions. He had me trapped.
Lacking any other options, I turned to the twenty-foot wall and started climbing, using the holes of fallen bricks to pull myself up. The rain poured on top of me, acting like a headwind and blinding me with water. I heard the guard below me scream every curse word in the dwarfish language -- which took quite some time considering the dwarves ‘flavorful’ vocabulary -- as he ran to catch my ankle. I was on the slippery roof of the building by the time he made it to the bottom. As I tried not to laugh at this iron monkey jumping for a treat, a voice issued out from the street.
“Ral! Did you catch the urchin?” It was a strong voice, but just as cold as Rals.
“She climbed the wall like a… like a… like a lizard before I could reach her.” His scowl made me glad I escaped his grasp. It showed hatred, evil, everything a normal person would fear. I was too hardened by the cruelties of being alone and an outcast to fear him.
“Do you… do you think she was a… a salamander?” His voice quavered as he called out to Ral. He thinks I’m a fire sprite in disguise! I can work with that. I let out a cackle. Much to my joy, they both jumped. It only made me laugh – or in this case, cackle -- harder.
“It was!! Get out of my way!!!!”
Ral slipped in a mud puddle he hadn’t noticed before as he tried to shove past his companion. A few passerby’s stopped to stare at the spectacle. Just to scare them as much as they had me, I raised my voice to sound like a hags.
“Fools! You dare to chase me! I’ll make you suffer for what you have done! ”
Ral was crawling in place due to the mud and screaming like a baby. His companion was nowhere in sight. I gave another cackle to hide my laughing.
“Wh-wh-what are – are you going to d-do to m-m-m-me??”
“I shall burn your home to the ground!” Finally… I thought. Sweet revenge… “Unless… you stop harming urchins and outcasts!”
“Anything!!”
“Be gone from my sight, pig.”
And finally, he left. I let out one last cackle-laugh before thinking Ha! Superstitions are so easy to manipulate. I’d have a sure meal every day if they all were like that. I ran across the rooftops, slipping and almost falling off at one point. Lightning struck the place I had been only moments ago.
…The next day…
The marketplace was crowded, noisy, and above all dangerous. A perfect place for an outcast to get a meal. As I browsed the vendors, trying to decide what I wanted to eat today, I saw a little bronze hand mirror. Never before had I really looked at myself. I gazed at my reflection, noting that I wasn’t as hideous as the cell masters said; in fact, I thought I was beautiful. My brown hair was shoulder length from the last time I cut and traded it for a meal, my eyes a rich amber, like fresh sap. I had a few freckles on my cheeks, dull lips, and thought myself prettier than was said of the empress. I smiled, proud of my appearance.
A low rumble came from my stomach, controlling my hand as I swiped a bun from beside the mirror. As I weaved through the crowd for nothing, because no one had noticed, the picture of myself etched into my mind.
Fifteen years old… they only guessed I was five at the orphanage, but half-elves barely age faster than pure elves. Who knows how old I was? I look older than that, feel older, like I’ve learned more. Maybe I’m nineteen… like there’s any difference there. Oh, what does age matter, anyways? By now I had climbed the trellis on the side of the inn, leading to my favorite rooftop. As I climbed I turned my head to see the vendor noticing a roll missing from the stack. I giggled as I reached the top. Laying down in the shade I started to eat my roll, seeing the bright blue sky peeking from behind a few clouds, still gray from yesterdays storm.
After finishing my roll I went to go and find some dessert from one of the many vendors. Someday I’ll make something of myself, but for now, I’ll settle for getting fruit…
If anything is confusing, cliche or poorly written, please tell me.
. If you or anyone else still thinks it stinks (hey, a rhyme!), please let me know.
