| Chapter One | Hearts of Glass |
It was easy to forget what normal sounded like, especially after hearing so much silence.
Maybe that was why, when the golden sun began to peak lazily in the horizon, she would slip out of the confines of the too-tall castle. It was rather simple really, to change into loose-fitting clothes and slip out of her window, using her fingertips and toes to judge where to place her feet. From there, it was as easy as scaling the old-decrepit walls that stood as the gates of the castle, and then she was there; she was surrounded by normal, then.
Each day was surprisingly different in their own simplistically normal ways. Somedays it was as if the streets of the sister city itself was alive, bustling with people and animals alike. It was as if the air itself was static with life and energy. Then, other days it was calm, quiet, almost tranquil as few lingered outside. She found that she did not mind either. Both days, no matter how different, serve to remind her that there were people, normal people, who depend on her now.
It was a sobering thought, to imagine that if she made the wrong choice, they would suffer.
No, she shook her head gently, it would not do her or her people any good if she thought like that; however, there was a truth to those ideas. She was drawn out of her thoughts by the loud rumble of shaky-wooden wheels running over the sand covered cobble, carefully stepping to the side of the road, watching as a troll drags the cart along. It was filled with vividly colored fabrics, she noticed, when she looked closer.
"Watch where you're running kid," a woman's voice drawled out, a hint of annoyance on her lips, but it was followed with a quick laugh.
"Yes ma'am," a more excited voice calls out, panting with energy; it became evident very quickly as to who the voice belonged to when a much-smaller body collided with her own.
It was a simple reflex for her to throw her leg back on impact, bracing her body, keeping herself upright. Pure instinct, that was what she was running on; however, the small body was not. That was evident when they, unlike her, fell backwards into the sand with a soft thump followed by a pained groan.
The groan was silenced by a hiccuping cry.
"I- I'm," the orc-child stammers, sprawled out on his back with his hands cupping over his eyes that leaked with salty tears.
"Just take a deep breath," Adara says quietly, surprising herself when she crouches down.
"I'm sorry," the orc-child chokes, coughing on spit and tears as he rubs his eyes, his chest rising and falling with unsteady breathing.
"Hey," Adara reaches a steady hand out as she offers a faint smile, "there's nothing to be sorry for," her fingers curl around his smaller, olive green hand that took her own so gently.
She helps him sit up with one hand, using the other to gently brush the sand that stuck to his thick, curly hair. After a quick once-over, she determines that physically, the boy was alright. Still, he continues to cry, furiously wiping his eyes as if the pressure itself could will away the torrent of tears. For a moment, she wonders if he might actually be hurt and she simply overlooked an injury.
"Are you okay?" The little boy asks, sucking in a deep and shaky breath before another sob wracks through his small, trembling body.
"Am I okay?" Adara asks quietly, her brows scrunch in confusion before she nods, "of course I am," she says softly. Her grip on the boy's hand tightens as she helps him to stand, still crouching down before him. "But are you alright?" She asks, and finally his scarlet eyes meet her own, glossy from his pitiful crying. It is the first time since their unfortunate crash that he has been able to stop crying.
