Elendadith

Her fingers curled through her hair, pulling on the individual strands, tugging, she wanted to keep pulling her hair until she screamed. Until the mud caked blonde strands fell and bled. Lotus took a breath �" she didn’t feel pain, she didn’t feel anger. She didn’t want to feel. Feeling made you weak, like those many revolutions ago.

She glanced around the small tavern that smelt of stale beer a sweat, and if she looked close enough, the occasional stains of dried blood were to be spotted. Even Lotus could admit to herself that this place was far from ideal for someone such as her. She recalled a day when she didn’t need to worry about old clothing.

Lotus slammed the memory shut, away, locked into the back of her mind forever. Memories led to feeling, and she didn’t want to. Lotus stood, feeling the coarse wood beneath her threadbare slippers. She flicked her cloak back, watching mindlessly as chunks of dirty, dirty mud fell to the floor.

A memory, a memory that she had no objection to remembering, rose to the forefront of her mind. A memory of sun and mud, a silhouette of a stranger with a strong voice and compassion in stance.

A quality she did not share.

“Lotus! Darling! Are ya ready to give old Franny ya name sweet’eart?” A busty prostitute settled the chair besides Lotus, her makeup running and black curls flying everywhere, opposite in every way to Lotus.

“Tell me Francesca, do you tell every man you f**k your name?”

“Oh no darling, just the ones that are special ta me” Francesca, or ‘old Franny’ as she liked to call herself, rewarded Lotus with a long, sultry wink.

“Then do not ask me my name again, for you do not fall into that category” Francesca laughed and pushed Lotus away jokingly.

“Ya know darl, one day a man of yours gonna get in that cold ‘eart of yours!” The high pitched laughter that followed rang in Lotus’s ears. She clenched her mug tighter, willing old Franny to depart the chair besides her.

Of all the people that were scared of her, only one or two dared to come near. And one of those two was old Franny, the most notoriously loose woman in this quarter of the kingdom. Francesa, as was her birth name, was fearless, and ran a successful bordello. She took care of all the orphans and runaways, as long as they signed a contract stating that she was allowed to demand a year of services.

Not many runaways ran to her door.

“Jebediah! Jebediah! Ohh did ya ‘ear what happened to our lovely Lotus this morn?” Francesca bounced in her seat with vigorous energy, causing her already short skirt to rise up her spread thighs and her bust to almost pop out. Of the people who were scared of Lotus, only two dared approach her. One was Francesca, the other Jebediah. The old man that reeked of alcohol who had given her the name of Lotus.

“Na I di’n’t”

“Well, she was ‘pparently at tha theatre �" weren’t ya darling?” Francesca didn’t wait for confirmation from Lotus. “An’ then �" someone pushes ‘er o’er ‘e did!” Jebediah gasps in fake outrage. Jebediah had been under the impression for a long time �" the entire year that he had known Lotus, that she needed someone to melt that cold heart of hers. He knew as soon as he met her that she was someone special. He just wished that someone would try to reach her.

“And then I told him off and walked away” Lotus comments dryly, interrupting the conversation. She could see that Jebediah’s attention had wondered, probably focused on his next drink, and that was no spectacle that she wished to see again. She wondered for another time why Francesca and Jebediah had taken her under their wing as they had. There was no reason for it, as they seemed to be family to each other. Small amounts of digging revealed that both were stow aways when they were young, from the harsh kingdom of Elendadith, when Francesca was only ten revolutions, and Jebediah fifteen.

In the background, a nearby conversation caught the interest of Lotus, compelling her to stay and listen for a mere few more seconds.

“Its almost time for the commemoration of Draelith”

“How far away was it?”

“I believe it’s two cycles and three nights”

“Sounds about right”

“Did you hear what happened today?”

“No, what?”

“The Prince was spotted within our walls. But that wasn’t else that happened, a poor bloke tripped the Ms Lotus! Fuming she was! Or at least I heard. Ne’er heard a man be told off my a woman such as that afore!”

Lotus closed her eyes �" ah yes she remembered. Though the men were wrong, it was three cycles, and two nights. The marking of her moving here, and the marking of the eighth passing of the commemoration for the fall of the kingdom of Draelith, a beautiful seaside realm that upon its fall was segregated into two and given to Elendadith and Dralinia. She also heard that the news of her tumble was spreading rapidly �" it would be embarrassing if she knew how to be embarrassed.

Lotus mused the news silently. Perhaps it was this year she would ride to the western most castle of the Old Draelith, to spend the commemoration there without the hassle of Jebediah and Francesca, as well meaning as they may be.

Decisively, Lotus turned to stalk out the old inn, the one ran by Jebediah. Outside, the stone streets stunk with that ever present smell of human waste, the one that seemed to linger. She believed her current home of the sleepy little town named Krelayke was one of the poorest in the kingdom of Dralinia. Though by those standards, no town was as poor as that of a standard town of Elendadith, where the financial gap was enormous, with only ten families holding all the wealth.

It was why so many runaways were from Elendadith, and Lotus couldn’t help but notice the different mannerisms that are inherited by someone that originates from there. Most turn to thievery, Francesca and Jebediah were lucky ones.

She continued down the small alleyways of Krelayke, pausing only when people refused to clear the path, and of which was ensured by one pointed look in someone’s general direction. Whispers covered the streets, Lotus, for some reason being a topic of hot debate. And that of the Princes arrival.

Many were arguing that the royal procession was to be on the morrow. Lotus was positive that it was to be an utterly unspectacular event.

Prince Crispin Eason stared at the ceiling of his room, lent to him by one of the upper class of the small town of Krelayke. He had heard whisperings about this corner of Dralinia for some time, whisperings of uprisings and reformation that his father had learnt to ignore, but Crispin, with his sharp curiousity soon felt himself falling prey to the promise of adventure.

And what an adventure he had received, in the gift of a fiery eyed girl of no more than twenty-three cycles and long blonde hair. Oh, how he wished he knew her name, the name of the girl he had tripped as he exited the theatre.

What an embarrassment, his mind whispered cynically, you didn’t even help the poor girl stand! No wonder she refused you her name.

Yes, it was no wonder the lovely lass wouldn’t give it to him.

“Names dangerous?” Crispin scoffed. There was no way a name could be dangerous. He would definitely be finding out hers, for the need to see her fiery temper made him ache all over. Just once, he promised himself. Just once do I need to see her.

Author's Note

Unedited

Reviews

[Hailey Juliet]

I really enjoyed the first two chapters of your work! Very lucid and believable. It has certainly reached a good level of polish and was a pleasure to read.

[The Calm Scribe]

I think the story is moving along nicely but it is still a bit jagged. There are some edges that need to be smoothed out. I found the conversation to be a bit chunky and hard to follow, perhaps clean it up a bit. As well the phrase of all the people only two would approach her was used twice in to describe Francesca and the Pub Owner. When she leaves the tavern I don't think it is needed to state who owns it, the reader is already well versed in it's ownership. Also in the beginning you state she doesn't want to feel, then the next sentence says that she is feeling the rough wood floor. I found the use of the word feelings in rapid succession was distracting. Perhaps try "Lotus stood, the rough hewn wood of the floor pressing into her feet through her threadbare slippers...."

[richieb]

Your story is moving along nicely. The reader learns pockets of information of Lotus and her surroundings. I like your character Francessa the prostitute. I have a prostitute named Francessa in one of my stories.
The readers interest of your story is now enhanced with the identity of the prince. Your writing has good imagery and believable characters. Look forward to reading more.
Richie.

[D.S. Dirck]

You have a great distinctive form of prose. I really enjoyed reading this.