My throat tightens and mouth dry, his words hitting me hard. It’s too much for me to deal with today, my eyes stinging at his uncharacteristically kind words. Cruel slurs simply roll off my back, but hearing this from him? It reminds me of the life that Ishouldhave had.
“Bye, Jules.” Swallowing the lump at the back of my throat, I face forward once more, not able to look at him any longer with my parting words.
Jules’ comment has put me in a strange mood, and although I try to push it away, it seems to echo in my mind. However, I’m returning to Ella and I can’t let her see me this way. I navigate my way through the rubble of the fallen buildings, climbing up several large block of sandstone until I reach a balcony that juts outward. Leaping forward in a practiced move, I grip the edge of the balcony, my body swinging beneath me, and pull myself up.
From outside, the building looks impossible to live in, the balcony one sandstorm away from collapsing, yet I’ve learnt how to adapt and protect places like this. I’ve lived here for four yearsnow and made changes to it over the years and made it into a home.
Personally, I would live in a hovel, moving from place to place, perhaps even leave the city and fend for myself. However, it’s not just me I have to think about now. Ella deserves better than that.
Once on the balcony, carefully placed broken shutters provide us with a modicum of privacy, and I’m able to straighten up and squeeze through the gap that leads into the house.
Closest to the door is my sleeping space, meaning I can act quickly if anyone was to try and enter. In the far corner, a nest of brightly colours fabrics brings life to the room. Any time I find something colourful or sparkly, I bring it back for Ella. She loves to decorate the room with them and make it more homely. However, glancing around, I see that the room is empty.
I’m not panicking about it though, knowing exactly where she’ll be. On the opposite side of the room, a doorway is hidden by drapes of fabric affixed to the wall. It might look out of place if the rest of the room wasn’t dressed in the same manor, and blends in well.
“Kiara, is that you?” Ella’s quiet, timid voice calls out from behind the curtain.
I roll my eyes and hold back my sigh. If it wasn’t me then she would have just given away her hiding place, putting herself at risk. We’ve spoken about this over and over again, but I don’t have it in me to scold her today.
“Yes, Ella, it’s me.”
Surging from her hiding place in a mass of limbs and wild dark hair, she leaps into my arms, her small body trembling as she wraps her arms around me. Her head buries against my neck and I can feel the dampness on her cheeks to know she’s been crying. My chest tightens and I hold her tightly, guilt threateningto tear me apart. This is worse than her usual anxiety at me leaving, she must have heard something that spooked her.
With her in my arms, I glance at the space she just vacated. The alcove in the back of the room used to serve as a storage, but when Ella came into my life, she was so traumatised when I left to go to the market that she needed somewhere she felt safe. Now, the small space is used as somewhere she can go if she’s afraid.
“I heard they were looking for someone selling gemstones and I know it had to be you. I was so worried.” The hitch in her tiny voice is like a knife to my heart.
I hate having to leave her, but seeing her like this only confirms why I have to do what I do. She would never survive without me.
Sighing, I reach up and stroke her hair, letting her take what she needs from me. It doesn’t matter how long I need to stay like this, nor the fact my legs are cramping up. She needs a hug and that is something I can freely give her.
Ella received her designation when she was only seven, early for most. There isn’t a particular age for this ceremony, simply at some point within adolescence. The gods speak with their followers, the white bands, who in turn inform us of the date we must attend. The ceremony will include several other adolescents, all getting their bands together. Unlike me, Ella was classed as sullied immediately. It was a big scandal as she was originally from the hills, her parents rich nobles. It’s almost unheard of for a child to be given a black band, and certainly not one from nobility.
What could a seven-year-old have done to be shunned from society like this? Even thinking of it now causes anger to flare in my veins.
“I was worried that they’d caught you.” Her voice is muffled against my neck, but I can still hear the pain and fear she’s trying to hide. “That you would never come back,”
Her words break my heart, shattering the pieces as my chest constricts tightly is a gruelling, crushing pain I experience often since she came into my life. She is almost ten now and deserves better than this, and so much more than I can offer her. However, I am all she has, which means I have to look after myself enough to still be here for her.
I pull from her hold enough that I can look at her and cup her cheeks between my palms. “I willalwayscome back for you. Do you understand?”
She meets my gaze, seeing the truth blazing back in my eyes and slowly nods. There are some things that don’t need to be said between us, thatcan’tbe explained in words, and the love I feel for her is one of those. Slowly, I can feel the anxiety leave her, her body becoming relaxed in my hold.
“Come on, get comfy and I’ll sort this nest out.” I tug at a loose strand of her hair and she giggles, escaping my hold and running over to her sleeping space.
I watch her with a bittersweet smile, wishing there was more I can give her. Following, I sit cross-legged behind her, running my fingers loosely through her hair to get the large tangles out. She hums under her breath, a song I don’t recognise, and I reach for the stolen brush that we share. Working in silence, I listen to her hum, smiling at the happiness that’s returning to her as I weave small pieces of amethyst into her hair. Ella loves it when I do this because she ‘sparkles like a princess’. What I don’t tell her is that the glittering gem is a stone of peace, granting calm to the wearer. If this helps her in any way, then I will happily spend hours braiding her hair and weaving them in.
“I’ve been thinking,” she begins quietly, facing forward as I continue to work. “Perhaps the gods classified me as sullied for a reason.”
I bite my lip, my fingers stumbling on the complex braid. She doesn’t need to hear my view on the gods and their designations. Where is she going with this? I have always told her that her soul is good and pure, and I know this is something she battles with.
“Not because I’ve done anything wrong,” she hurries to reassure me and continues, “but because this way I met you.”
My body freezes and the braid slips from my hands. I don’t want her to know the effect her words have on me, so I quickly pick the braid back up and get to work on repairing it. I don’t deserve to have this sweet girl in my life. None of us are perfect, we are human, we make mistakes, however, Ella is the closest thing you could get to purity. She is kind and generous despite the way she’s been treated by society, their merciless behaviour hasn’t broken her spirit. There is so much love in her heart. I might have once believed in the gods, but the moment they sentenced this girl to a life of being sullied, I lost all faith in them.
The fact that she can still see a positive in all of this is… Well, it makes her a far better person than me. They way she’s speaking about finding me, as though her life with me is worth being sullied for… She is gifting me a kindness and she doesn’t even realise it.
“We need each other, and I would have never met you otherwise,” she explains, completely oblivious to the effect she’s having on me. “My life with you here is better than anything I had before.”
