Fortuna (wip)

Chaper One: On the Ledge

    Farrah awoke to the smell of salt and the sound of the ocean, her foot sticking awkwardly off the edge of her bed. Her house also sat precariously on the edge, the edge of a cliff that is.  A place where a lighthouse ought to be but decidedly wasn't. One strong push could topple the house over the ledge and onto the beach below, to be washed away in the ocean.

    Pastel paints had begun to peel from the walls, abused from years of mist that rose from the dark waters below. The house was in such a state that she didn't even begin to bother with upkeep. Her one sofa, stained with time and taken from her parents' house, was pushed into a corner to hide the peeling wallpaper, and conveniently facing a wide window.

    She had drawn back the curtains in an attempt to let the pale morning sun into her space. Flooding the small room with light, illuminating the easel she had half haphazardly set up. Her oil paints were the first things she had unpacked, her two first weeks in the house stunk of the linseed and walnut oil she had mixed into her vermillion.

    The beach was speckled with sea grass,  she was careful to dodge them as she made the descent from her house to the sand below. The grass was stiff and pulled at Farrah's skin like the little hands of a hungry child. Her boots made a satisfying crunch against the granulated terrain. She had been barefoot on this beach only once before. The first day she had moved in, she had entered the house and dropped all of her stuff on the floor, her papers from years of studying painting as an apprentice went flying into the air.

   She had taken off to the beach like a bullet, practically falling down the steep hill, each foot she placed down jarred her body forward. She had lain in the sun soaked sand like a kid, wriggled herself down further into the sand like how a flounder buries itself on the seafloor. Her smile was busy that day, drunk on newfound freedom. Her skin had stung the next morning, waking up in her new independent house in her new independent bed as a new independent 21-year-old. Her brown skin, a shade darker from the intense sun.

    She had reached her destination, the ocean breeze whipping against her calves, tossing her thick hair in coils. She held her curls back from her forehead as she faced the cave. A recent discovery of hers, she had found the cave walking one day, upon discovering it she had dropped all of the shells she was collecting for pigment and approached the entrance cautiously as if it would pounce on her like a wild animal.

   It was not a big cave by any means, the mouth of it was covered with moss and vines hung down the opening, concealing the insides like a well kept secret. And now, this secret was kept between her and the cave. Farrah made this pilgrimage everyday, satchel full of loose paper and tiny tinctures of paints. She painted better down here, she reasoned, but really she just wanted a special hiding place from the sting of the wind, the squeaks of gulls, and maybe, just the world in general.

    Today was no different, Farrah reached out her hand and pulled back the curtain of vines. When she stepped  inside she was overcome with a feeling of serenity. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, offering her a song with their slow methodical dripping. It was warmer inside, greenery had taken home in this little cave, just like she had. Ahanna and Ashir were expected to arrive at the port any day now; they would bring with them their pride and joy, their cedar ship, fondly named Agni. They would bring her spices and gold rings to adorn her braids, and as always, ask her to join them on their journeys. And as always, she would reluctantly shake her head no.

   She sighed at this, then double checked her supplies. Everything was in order: her blanket was still bunched up in her favorite corner, the remnants of a long burnt candle and a shivering girl- wait- what?
That... that was definitely not there before. She let out a squeak of surprise before she could clamp her hands over her mouth. Her mysterious cave guest flinched with her entire body and with a turn of her head their eyes met. Blue she thought, that was all she could really think. Blue eyes weren't supposed to be here, on this side of the border at least. They both were frozen in place, Farrah took her all in, pale skin, fair enough to see all the purple bruises on her arms that wrapped around her midsection. A dress, far too nice to be worn in a cave, she thought.

   And then her next thought was, "Why in the world are you in my cave?" Farrah's brown eyes widened in shock at her own boldness, but now the silence was broken.

"Thank Konshu someone is here", the stranger replied in a voice, far too casual for the situation but clearly shaky and out of breath. The thin girl pushed herself to her feet and brushed off the thick black fabric of her dress, Farrah couldn't help but look down at her own clothes, simple and thread bare, purchased from the town tailor with all the gold coins she could muster up.

   A cold hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts.

   "You are going to hide me," the strange girl told her confidently, an insufferable grin stretching across her face.

   The walk back to her house was awkward, painfully so. The girl, who happily had offered up her name, Fortuna, gathered up her skirts in her hands and followed closely behind.

   "This is where you live?" Fortuna asked in clear confusion. Looking at her worn down house like a wild animal she's never seen before.

   Farrah was too busy with her thoughts screaming, why are you doing this? in her head to give a reply.

   "Not used to company" Farrah muttered as the door creaked open. "Not Iah's at least", she turned to Fortuna when she said this, peering at her expectantly. Fortuna pushed past her and stood in the center of her living room, looking at her half painted canvas like critiquing art was the most important thing to do at this moment.

   "I- look, if you want my help you have to explain wh- actually all of this," Farrah questioned, waving her arms in exasperation. People like Fortuna weren't allowed here, they haven't been for 50 years. The country of Iah had closed its borders long long ago, its King deeming the rest of the world "not good enough". Fortuna had only seen paintings of the people of Iah, moonlight complexion and haunting cerulean eyes. But here she was, an Iah standing in the middle of her room like she owned the place, a VERY illegal Iah that had begun to touch her box of paints.

   "Stop that!" Farrah snapped, again shocked by her boldness but her patience was wearing thin. Fortuna just shot her a grin in response, walking over to her couch and after inspecting it, decided it was best that she kept standing. Farrah crossed her arms and tried to look bigger than she felt.

   "First off," Fortuna began with her strange accent, drawing out her words, "Your help is appreciated. And your coach is filthy," she added at the end, gesturing to the sofa. Farrah couldn't help but let out a groan.  Why must I be a good person? Farrah thought, but she couldn't just leave this strange ungrateful girl out in the wilderness, she would freeze to death in the night. From her childhood education she could recall that Iah's had a below average body temperature, the hand on her shoulder earlier had proven that, and it gets very very cold at night.

   "You seem like a frugal person," Fortuna started again. Farrah shot her a venomous glare. "I meant that as a compliment," Fortuna defended.
   "Like a person that doesn't care about money," Farrah bristled at this. She was a painter's apprentice, not a wealthy war lord, but she did the best she could with selling paintings, that's how she managed to afford this house. Sure, it was a dump, but it was her dump.

   "Still waiting for an explanation," Farrah reminded.

   "I was getting there," Fortuna replied. "You see, my issue is with money." Farrah moved to say something. "Before you cut me off, no, I don't want your coins, they are worthless in my country anyway." Farrah's mouth shut once again, cursing herself for being so easy to read.

   "Look, I'll be honest," Fortuna paused, "I have a bounty on my head," she said calmly, like she was making small talk about the weather. Farrah's eyes bulged out of her skull at this, flooded with shock and an inkling of fear. What if she was–

   "Not murder–" Fortuna added quickly. Farrah was beginning to wonder if the people of Iah had mind reading powers. They were interrupted by a sharp rapping at the door.  Ahanna and Ishir– She had forgotten in all this chaos, and now she was harboring an illegal Iah with a bounty on her head. Another knock sounded, Farrah looked at her guest with fear filled eyes.

"Hide."