A/N: Hey all, I have been around on FF for many years, but this is a new account as my old account is mostly full of teenage drivel! This story was originally thought up as a fanfiction, then written as an original story but I am converting it back into a fanfic to publish it here. There is very little difference other than the names but if you want to read it as an original story, you can find it on fiction press, writerscafe or wattpad under the same name. I'd also appreciate you checking out any of my short stories on those sights if you like my writing. There isn't much posted at the moment, but every week I am posting new short stories aimed at children (but enjoyed by all) and inspired by the children in my class. Please check them out!
I hope you enjoy the first entry - it's a little short, see this as more of a prologue than anything else!
Clary groaned as she heard the cockerel from outside her window announcing the dawn. Rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hands, she heaved herself from the bed. It was cold this morning, the mud walls not doing much to keep out the cool air. She quickly threw her day dress on over her shift, lacing it up and pulled on her thick, woollen stockings. Moving over to the fireplace, her numb fingers struggled with the flint until at last the flame caught. She stayed crouched by the fire watching it flicker to life and warming herself. When her legs started to numb from the position she was in, she walked over to the rickety table and picked up the large, copper kettle from where she had left it the night before. Hanging it from the hook above the fireplace, she began to shuffle around looking for something to eat. She settled for some bread and a bit of cheese, sitting down to eat her meagre meal at the table. When the kettle started to steam, she took it from the hook and poured herself a cup of tea. She ate quickly and then tidied away the remnants of her breakfast. Exhausted, she laced up her boots and threw a heavy cloak over her shoulders.
It wasn't fully light outside, but the village was awake. The blacksmith nodded at her as she came out from her door, his anvil already being out to use. She picked up the bucket from beside the door and walked to the well at the centre of the village. Tying the rope onto the handle, she lowered the bucket into the water below. She had started to warm up as she heaved the full bucket back up and carried it carefully to the trough. She repeated the process for each of the water troughs until they were all full and then set about filling up the food troughs. All around her, her neighbours went about similar tasks, sparing her a smile. Not much was known about Clary. The rest of the village had lived there since they were born and would live there until they died. They lived in their fathers houses and everyone of them was connected through someone's marriage. Clary on the other hand, had only arrived a year ago with no family and no possessions. Mrs Dorothea had been living here then, an old widow whose only sons had died in a war. She had taken one look at the starving girl and taken her into her heart. It had been a rough winter since then and the cold air got into Mrs Dorothea's lungs. She hadn't recovered. Clary lived alone now, quietly going about her life as Mrs Dorothea had before her.
The sun was high in the sky by the time she was able to rest a little. Settling down on a tree stump with a drink, she saw Simon, her only friend here, coming over. She smiled and beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.
'Good morning Clary,' he said as he settled down next to her.
'Good morning Simon,' she replied holding out an apple to him. He took it and bit into it immediately. 'Did you get your morning chores done?' Simon lived on the other side of the village with his seven brothers and five sisters in a house the same size as Clary's one room building; to say that it was crowded was an understatement. As the middle child, he was often overlooked and shove to the side, neither as strong and useful as his elder brothers nor as beautiful and delicate as his baby sister.
'All done, I just came out for a bit of peace,' he replied. 'I was getting a headache! Sonia stole Rachel's doll, and the wailing was something else. How goes your work?'
'I need to take the eggs to market,' she replied, biting into an apple of her own. 'Hopefully, I'll make enough to buy some food for a few days, my cupboards are pretty bare.' Simon gave her a sympathetic smile. He understood her hardships as he was living through them too. In fact, the entire village was. It had been a hard winter, and that had taken its toll on them all. The harvest the previous year hadn't yielded as much food as they needed and with a large part of their income going in taxes to the crown, things had never been bleaker. It wasn't uncommon for Clary to go several days without a meal and in Simon's house, with so many mouths to feed, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt full.
The walk to the nearest market took about an hour and Clary didn't have a horse to make the journey quicker. Simon waved her off as she made her way down the dirt road, basket of eggs on her arm. The sun was high in the sky by then, but it wasn't late enough in the year for her to feel it's warming rays. Clary was thankful for her thick cloak and sturdy boots as she slowly made her way to the nearest town.
When she arrived, she had a look at the different stalls, admiring the trinkets and exotic foods that were on offer. She managed to trade her eggs for enough to buy a loaf of bread and tucked it into her basket. She decided to take the long way back home, there was still plenty of light left, and she had no one to rush back to. Rather than following the road, she cut through the woods towards her favourite spot. She passed underneath the canopy of trees and down the gentle slope towards the river that marked the boundary between the Kingdom of Euralia, where Clary lived, and the Kingdom of Teora on the other side. She sat down on the bank by the river and looked across. Teora looked no different from Euralia. It had the same green grass, the same blue sky, and the same tall trees. Sitting here and looking across the river reminded her about where she had come from.
Clary was sixteen years old when she ran away from home. In her home, she wasn't wanted anyway. Her father was cruel and spiteful, and her brother was a younger version of him. Her mother had died when she was small; she couldn't remember her at all. Growing up, everyone had told her she looked just like her, but she had never even seen so much as a portrait of her. Clary's most defining feature was the mass of auburn curls on her head that seemed untameable. This had come from her mother apparently, as well as her striking green eyes. She sighed deeply, taking one last look across the river into Teora, promising herself she would never go back.
Clary made her way through the woods the rest of the way back to the village. The sun was getting low by then and Clary set about her evening tasks, making sure all of her livestock were shut away securely. She relit the fire and hung the freshly filled kettle. When the water was hot, she used some to make herself a fresh cup of tea and then the rest to wash herself. After, she settled herself down by the fire, drying her hair. She took out a book of fairy tales, the one thing other than the clothes on her back, that she had brought with her from home. She enjoyed the magic that they brought to her normally repetitive life. Opening it to her favourite story, she lost herself in tales of princes and princesses, good overcoming evil and magic and wonder, not knowing that her life was about to change.
I hope you enjoyed it! I hope to update every week, but with my currently hectic life, it may be every other week. I am looking for a beta reader both for this story, and the children's novel I am working on. If you are interested in either of those jobs, please let me know!