The Empty Ones (Fantasy Romance)

2. White stones

I don't recall what I dreamed that night; I only remember it was awful. So was the awakening, abrupt and ice-cold. A shiver went through me when the sister emptied the water bucket over my rather lethargic body. 

The red-haired quizm said it was going to be a hard day, but in that moment, I realised that was clearly an understatement. 

The wet sheet was clinging to my body, but I didn't dare to remove it. 

I was taught from a young age to not undress in front of others; be cautious, be ashamed.

So, understandably, I wasn't comfortable with nakedness, and in that foreign environment, I felt the weight of all the unknown eyes around us crushing me.  At the end of the day, I was just a girl of twelve who had been raised quite secluded, and now a little crowd of unknown people was staring at my very pitiful self.

The quita woman threw a white tunica my way. It fell to the ground because I was, seemingly, too baffled and clumsy to catch it. That made the little crowd laugh, but they fell silent right away when she started frowning

"Stand up. Put that on. Here you don't speak unless addressed, you don't move unless told to-"

"What if I have to go to the privi?" I interrupted to ask. That was a very foreign spark of brattiness that surprised even me. 

I still don't know where it came from, as I was generally a docile child, but I probably resented her for the beating. Nobody had beaten me till that day. The closest were a few slaps from Hara when I had been very naughty, but never anything that would leave lasting marks.  

And just like that, she gave me another reason to resent her. Her sharp, quita claws dug into my arm, leaving five punctual, bloody marks behind and a lot of pain.

The girls gasped for whatever reason.

"Here you are taught obedience first of all. You are not at home anymore."

I had my fair share of complaints about home, but that morning made me realise that my life so far had actually been good. At the palace, I was ignored, maybe hurt in my pride, sometimes humiliated, but never physically harmed. 

Grumpy and most certainly a bit entitled, I pulled the tunica over my head.

"Stand up. You have to fetch water and prepare breakfast. Since you are new, it's your turn, but you can choose one of the girls to accompany you."

That was the first time I actually looked at the girls gathered around the bed. 

There were five in total. The first one to my right was a black-haired manab girl, who seemed, like me, southern. Then followed a smaller one with brown hair and the paler skin of the people up north, bordering the mountains.  

The red-headed quizm girl, who frowned at me to make sure I didn't choose her, was right in the middle.

To her left sat a blonde one with shimmering golden eyes and little copper horns on her forehead; a ghazal. She was fascinatingly beautiful, just like described in the stories. There were a few ghazal women in my father's palace, and all of them exhibited a certain natural grace, just like that girl.

 And the last one in the half circle was ebony-skinned and willowy. She seemed manab, the darker type from the centre of the country, until she opened her eyes, which were the color or dark camelia blossoms, a trait of the people of the east, the midrib.

Many midrib were nomads. She was the first one I had seen in real life. At that point, I only recalled some gossip I had heard about a noble midrib family from court who was involved in a scandal and sentenced to death by the Emperor.