A hope reversed
Content Warnings: grief, abuse, bad things happening to children.
(Soundtrack in my head d as I write this one: "Fix You" by Coldplay)
After the fire...after the factory went up in flames and too many machines blocked too many doors...after a pair of hands carried her out of the stifling darkness…after she had looked helplessly for her parents, for whom there had been no strong hands to carry into the cold, clear, night air…
…The world had been a jumble of disjointed noise, grief, and terror. Words in languages she did not understand. There had been shouting. People were upset. A sad man held her paw – she’d been so small then – and walked with her to a large building – the buildings in this city called Senovgorad were all so large, even bigger than the meeting house in the island.
She’d later know the building as the orphanage the Sisters of the Blessed Dawn ran. An elvish woman had stared hard at her when the man first dropped her off, as if she was both disgusted and hungry. Nel – about eight years old at that time –had tried to hide behind the sad man.
The elvish woman seemed angry about that. She barked more sounds and words at her that Nel didn’t understand. The sad man said other things, tone softer. The woman seemed angrier about whatever it was he said. He took a long time to let go of her paw and looked ashamed as well as sad when he turned to go.
A new chapter in life began in this place that people just called The House. It was a painful, lonely, confusing chapter. She seemed able to do no right to the angry elvish woman and the others who worked there, whom she could not understand. There were many other children there too. Many seemed as frightened as she was. She couldn’t understand or talk with them either, until a tiny changeling girl taught her Common and Orcish.
Life became slightly easier then. She learned to understand the orders the clerics gave them, the things the other children said, the prayers they had to memorize and recite each morning and night. The new languages were lifelines to survive this place.
But at night, no matter how tired she was after working wherever they had been sent to work that day, she would turn her thoughts back to her mother, father, aunties, uncles, cousins, and elders. She did not know where they were, but she felt certain that they would learn about what had happened to her parents and that they would come for her and take her and Khemma out of this dreadful place and to their homes – even if there homes were nothing more than a single rented bed in an overcrowded tenement that she’d slept in with her parents during the day and the day shift workers slept in at night. It would be more of a home than The House.
She wanted to show them, when they came for her, that she had not forgotten them. So she told herself their stories, over and over, practicing for when she was back with them again. She sang their songs, voice barely a whisper, once everyone else was asleep. And she made sure to do it all in their language – that beautiful language that made sense to her– the one where the words seemed to sound like the things they described – as one always feels about one’s native tongue. She would need to be able to speak it when they came for her.
Weeks, then months, then years, passed. She grew bigger – though still small for an ursan. Never eating enough saw to that. She grew harder too –became accustomed to the harsh conditions, to violence – both receiving and dealing it–especially when it came to protecting the tiny changeling girl from the bullies in the group. She learned to be strong – at least what it meant to her in this context – that she could draw the ire of the clerics away from Khemma and the others when she wanted to – it hurt, but it was also a sort of power.
After a few years she realized her aunties, uncles, cousins, and elders were not coming for her. She did not know where they were or what was happening to them, and they did not know where she was or what was happening to her. But she did not stop practicing the stories, the songs, the language. They were all she had left of the gentle life before the fire, before The House. If she lost them, she would lose her parents and the rest of her kin for good.
Eventually she gave up hope of ever finding them and ran with Khemma, the little changeling girl, and by some miracle, they made it to Eisen. They thought they would be free. But they found more cold, more hunger, and another woman who looked at them disgust and hunger that Sister Galina had–but Marlene, at first, had mostly tried to do it when she thought they didn’t see her.
There was more violence. More work that she didn’t have a say in. But at least now, first in their hovel, then in their crowded tenement room, then in their flat, 15 year old Nel could share the songs and stories and language with Khemma above a whisper without fearing punishment. Their gentleness, wonder, and humor kept her going.
The first time she’d seen that familiar mix of grief and terror on an orphan in the streets it had been when a petty crook had been berating a child and was about to strike them for not bringing in enough coppers from begging in the lower Central Ward. Nel used the violence she had learned on that man, then offered the terrified child her paw and her home. That night as the child slept soundly in her bed, she sat nearby and whispered the words she had been desperate to hear from her kin: “You are safe now. You are loved now. And I will always come for you.”
Nel had never stopped wondering what had happened to her kin, even though she had long given up hope of finding out.
Then Aaboli sent a message on a femur through a portal and she realized that their fate may have been a nightmare. They had not been able to come for her because they had been trapped in a hell of their own.
She was not small anymore. The magic of the runes had made her bigger than even most male ursans. Nor was she helpless. She had survived even death. Her claws and teeth and axe were strong and she had a group of friends with her who could fight and cast and heal.
That first night in the Wastelands, as she took first watch with their guides while her beloved insane friends who had come with her slept, she pictured the faces of her aunties, uncles, cousins, and elders, and whispered into the darkness. “Kay lee ha motonay” – “We are coming for you.”
Nel's Journal Ordered oldest to newest
-
Warmth
25 Jan 2023 06:40:04
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Spark
28 Jan 2023 07:45:46
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Broken
01 Feb 2023 05:45:25
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Magic berries and numbered days
02 Apr 2023 03:23:18
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Something Borrowed
09 Apr 2023 04:13:35
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Ghosts
23 Apr 2023 06:01:46
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A Small Revolution
27 Apr 2023 06:10:46
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Moving Day
13 May 2023 07:34:00
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Safe
19 May 2023 01:26:05
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Candlelight
12 Jun 2023 03:33:42
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A life that is mine
12 Jul 2023 02:22:20
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Things Taken
07 Sep 2023 06:05:00
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Left a mark
10 Dec 2023 07:04:14
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Tiny Revolutions
18 Jan 2024 07:53:11
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Least bad choice
19 Feb 2024 05:19:27
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Best of all possible worlds
01 Mar 2024 11:31:23
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Wasteland, Baby
29 Apr 2024 10:19:05
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A hope reversed
19 May 2024 04:39:01
25 Jan 2023 06:40:04
28 Jan 2023 07:45:46
01 Feb 2023 05:45:25
02 Apr 2023 03:23:18
09 Apr 2023 04:13:35
23 Apr 2023 06:01:46
27 Apr 2023 06:10:46
13 May 2023 07:34:00
19 May 2023 01:26:05
12 Jun 2023 03:33:42
12 Jul 2023 02:22:20
07 Sep 2023 06:05:00
10 Dec 2023 07:04:14
18 Jan 2024 07:53:11
19 Feb 2024 05:19:27
01 Mar 2024 11:31:23
29 Apr 2024 10:19:05
19 May 2024 04:39:01
The major events and journals in Nel's history, from the beginning to today.
A hope reversed
Content Warnings: grief, abuse, bad things happening to children. (Soundtrack in my head d as I write this one: "Fix You" by Coldplay) After the fire...after the factory went up in flames and too many machines blocked too many doors...after a...
06:15 am - 19.05.2024A hope reversed
Content Warnings: grief, abuse, bad things happening to children. (Soundtrack in my head d as I write this one: "Fix You" by Coldplay) After the fire...after the factory went up in flames and too many machines blocked too many doors...after a...
06:10 am - 19.05.2024A hope reversed
Content Warnings: grief, abuse, bad things happening to children. (Soundtrack in my head d as I write this one: "Fix You" by Coldplay) After the fire...after the factory went up in flames and too many machines blocked too many doors...after a...
06:07 am - 19.05.2024A hope reversed
Content Warnings: grief, abuse, bad things happening to children. (Soundtrack in my head d as I write this one: "Fix You" by Coldplay) After the fire...after the factory went up in flames and too many machines blocked too many doors...after a...
06:03 am - 19.05.2024Wasteland, Baby
It was supposed to be fun. An exciting tournament, no death on the line, in a new, beautiful place. Nel had strategized about how to stay in the shady part of the arena for the fight so that she could still see. Her opponent was a good sort. Then th...
10:37 pm - 29.04.2024Magic Berries and Numbered Days Saturday night Nel hurries to the Wayward Traveller after her deliveries, potion and magical berries in her pockets. She supplements the healer, giving the fighters berries to help them after each fight. She does her best to stay out of Marlene's way, but polar bears stand out in crowd. Marlene doesn't look happy that she's healed already. "Magic berries, huh? Cute. Let's see if you learned your lesson or I need to repeat it. You're subbing in the next fight." Nel knows better than to argue, setting her coat with its pockets full of berries and potions in the fighters' back room and comes back in time to step in to the ring. She is still stiff and sore, tired of hurting and being hurt, but she takes a breath, focusing on paying the rent and feeding the kids as she shakes her opponent's hand and squares off. She fights hard, in the moment, but each blow she gives and takes connecting to something else. Her left hook is a reminder of the money she's saving to help Gertrud apply to the Artificer's Guild. She takes an uppercut to the jaw but doesn't let it knock her down, remembering protecting Khemma when they were young in Ruskovich, how she couldn't fold, had to outlast the bullies. She lets lose a flurry of blows, imagining her opponent as Marlene and knowing she has to stay alive if she wants to get free. Her final blow is another punch with her left hand as she imagines wielding the Left Blade of Eosphorus against the Syndicate. The bugbear she's fighting goes down. She's breathing hard and heavy, not noticing the blood running down her face, except to wipe it out of her eyes. She catches Marlene's smile -- smug and triumphant-- and looks a away, running back to the bugbear and hand them several berries once the healer restores them to consciousness. Marlene comes over pats her cheek lightly, a gesture that would almost be affectionate if it weren't dripping with condescension. "Knew you just needed a little motivation. You've never been smart enough to chase the carrot, but the stick always works." Nel nods and looks down, a picture of submissiveness, but there is a fire growing inside of her and her left hand twitches, as if aching for a blade to strike a blow for Eosphorus. She promises herself that these days are numbered, and feels strength instead of shame.
03:22 am - 02.04.2023Broken
Wake up. Eat a too small meal of moldy bread or porridge. Break rocks until bones ached, muscles ripped, hands bled, hunger gnawed and thirst burned. Endure. Keep working. Keep an eye on the more sadistic prison guards and fellow prisoners. Protect ...
05:44 pm - 01.02.2023Spark
In the Warrens there is a small shop that sells produce that is close to turning. It's a ramshackle building that never smells quite fresh, but it's been cheerfully painted in brightly colored images of fruits and vegetables. The owner buys the items ch...
07:45 am - 28.01.2023Warmth
Nel came home Tuesday night with the food from the next day from the market. She did her best to take as little from the Syndicate for the school as possible, give them as little reason to interfere as possible. She knew they didn't need a reason, not r...
06:26 am - 25.01.2023The list of amazing people following the adventures of Nel.
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