The Ring Master's Fair

PART 1

The Ring Master's Fair - Part 1

Her hair looked like it had been dipped into rich chocolate. Her skin was a gift from the sun. Her lips were like they had been painted with blood. Her eyes were the color of a mysterious misty forest. Lark was born the daughter of two peasants in a cottage far from civilization. Sadly, her mother died giving birth to Lark. Rather than turn to drinking and solitude, the father found peace and happiness in raising his beauty of a daughter.

When her father died a heart-breaking death, Lark, who was devastated and orphaned, traveled throughout the kingdom of Olilith to find a way to keep herself alive. She eventually found a corn farm were she could seek safe refuge, so she thought. The master and the mistress took the opportunity to use her as a slave. So she grew up working in the corn fields dawn to dusk, bent over until her back was too sore to stand.

She was the favorite of the master, but not in a good way. She was abused, the punching bag. It was even worse when she did not follow instructions. A smack if she forgot to feed the chickens. A night without food if she disobeyed those higher than her. Head held underwater until her lungs burned with the sensation of drowning when she messed up in the field. There were no ends, no mercy, for the poor girl. All anger of any sort was taken out on her. Her figure was petite yet tough from all the beatings.

But, no matter how malicious he had been, Lark knew she must be grateful to some ends; he had given her shelter and a chance to live. So, on her fifteenth winter, when her master grew terribly sick with an unknown disease, she found it her duty to find a cure.

So, she set out on a quest to find a witch who might heal her master. But when she stopped to rest at a tavern, a soldier tricked her into thinking he would help her, but instead he captured her and sent her to The Ring Master's Fair for a little bit of pocket money.

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"Might you stop fighting?" asked a soldier in a gruff voice.

"Never, my master is sick, I must find a cure for him," Lark responded attempting to kick the poor soldier away.

"Ah, feisty. Men ought to like her. Wild as a horse, she is," another soldier said.

"Into the cage." bellowed a man. Judging by the fact that he was dressed in much finer clothes, he must've been in a higher ranking than the soldiers; maybe even the person behind this whole ordeal. The Ring Master, she decided to call him. He was tall and ugly, looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. Greasy black hair pulled up into a braid. Red blotches on his chin where his beard might have been. His beady, dark brown eyes stared at the youngest girls like he was the predator and they were his prey.

The sun dipped into the sky like a bucket into a well. It was a least a days, or in this case a nights, journey to the field where the Ring Master's Fair was to be held.

Lark barely slept that night as she was in a tight space, piled on top of many other girls. Most of the girls appeared to be between 5 and 22 winters.

Morning came too quickly. A bump in the road woke most of the poor girls. Those who were still not awake were woken with an angry smack across the face from one of the soldiers. Lark was one of the girls to whimper awake in pain.

"We're here lasses," grumbled a soldier..

The girls nearly tumbled out of the cage as the door swung open. In her head, Lark counted the girls she had a view of. She summed up that there were about 25 other girls, not including herself. Some of these girls were luckier than others. Some of them wore barely anything and were eyed up and down by perverted soldiers. Others, such as Lark, were wearing rags for clothes, but they were at least more covered up.