All characters in this story are mine, although this is based in the Stargate universe. Please do not steal any part, portion, or character from my writing. Thanks, it's appreciated, please read and review!
Caladria sat on her bed role, and picked up a bowl of soup. She quickly downed all its contents, and picked up the bread. Maybe she'd finally get used to the spices this time, as well as how hard the it was. She took a few nibbles, and quickly thought better of it. She'd never get used to that. She put it to the side, and looked at her empty soup bowl. It was empty, just like her stomach. Caladria stood up and looked out of her attic window. It was almost evening, and some of the women had come out of their homes and were standing around the well, chattering away as they drew water. Caladria watched them, with their beloved heavy veils that left barely any part of them shown, always gossiping, laughing at anyone lower than themselves, and worshiping the feet of anyone higher. It was sickening. For about an hour all the women took turns drawing the water, with Caladria standing at her window, watching them. They finally finished, and dispersed back to their homes, from which they wouldn't venture until the next morning when they would come out for more water.
Caladria stayed a bit longer still watching. Now a few more women came straggling out of their homes. These were the outcasts. They were different from the others, instead of talking, laughing and chattering away, they quietly waited in line, retrieved their water, and rushed back home and out of sight. Caladria quietly walked down stairs, drawing her own despised veil, retrieving her water jar, and took a step out the door. She espied the well and walked towards it. Another figure was hurrying to it at the same time, and reached the well first. She started to lower her jar into the well, and as she did so Caladria could see that it caused her obvious pain in her right arm.
"You're going to hurt it more with that weight on it." Caladria said to her. The girl didn't even acknowledge Caladria, and continued pulling. Caladria stretched out her hand, and stopped the girl. She looked angrily up at Caladria. Caladria sighed, and gently removed her hand from the rope, and started pulling the now filled jar up herself. She finished, removed the jar from the rope, and set it down on the ground, picking up her own jar and tying it onto the tether to be lowered down. The girl didn't even give so much as a thankful glance to Caladria; she simply picked up her jar and started carrying it back to her home. Caladria sighed; a name would have been nice at the very least.
Caladria took her filled and extremely heavy jar of water back to the house from which she had come, and placed it on the floor inside. She then took a drink from it, and started to walk back up the stairs to her room.
"Bread, for tomorrow," a man sitting at a table in the room said. Caladria turned to him.
"You made today's."
"Yours is bad." He responded.
"And yours tastes worse!" Caladria said, taking another step up the stairs.
"Good. Then you make tomorrow's." The man said. Caladria sighed, and walked over to him.
"No." She said, quite clearly. He stood up, towering over the thirteen year old girl.
"Yes."
"What are you going to do? Hit me?" She asked incredulously. He said nothing. Caladria sighed, thinking it over.
"Alright, I'll make tomorrow's bread, but in return, I want some information." He grunted, and sat back down on his chair. She went over, and got out some flour.
"First of all, who is that girl who always comes out last to get her water?" The man looked at her, remaining silent. Caladria immediately stopped getting the bread fixings and started back toward the stairs.
"Akil's daughter," the man said sullenly. Caladria sighed yet again.
"That's a good start. Does she have a name?" The man just looked at her.
Caladria walked over to the water jar and got a cup of water, and then started mixing it with her bread.
"Why is she outcast? The other women never speak to her." Caladria asked. He looked at her, again not speaking.
"Farren, I have been here for how long and I do not know anything about anyone. You say I should adjust, act as the other women do. I doubt I'm ever going to completely accomplish both of those, but at least I'm trying." Farren finally spoke to her.
"Akil drank to much wine in the armies. He made bad decisions, he was told to leave. He did, his daughter has same reputation as him."
"Why is she always injured in some form or another?" Caladria asked him.
"He's her father. What he does to her is not your care." Caladria looked at Farren, and continued making the bread in silence.
Later, she finally finished it and went upstairs to her room; she stretched out her bed role, but merely sat cross-legged on it, placing her hands on her legs and closing her eyes. She was getting closer, much closer, she could feel it. A month, if that and she would be free.