When I opened the rusty zinc door of the shack we lived in, my arms were trembling from carrying the gallon jugs of water slung across my back the sun had long set. Dust caked on my skin like a second skin, my battered boots scraping across the floorboards. The fire of exhaustion burned through my legs from standing all day carrying bags of dried grains in trade for a few copper pieces, hardly enough to buy a loaf of dry crumbling bread or a few wilted vegetables.
But inside the shack, the scent hit me first and for a second i did not know what it was...
Meat.
Not some dried up rat or scavenged bones boiled for soup but real, actual meat. Fatty, rich, and sizzling.
My stomach convulsed, violently, reacting to the unfamiliar smells. For an instant, I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me. Then my gaze adjusted sufficiently for me to notice it. There was a pot boiling on the small fire. It was steaming with pieces of browned meat. Eren was on his haunches nearby, sucking grease from his hands. Our father was there too. His back was turned on me. His shoulders hunched as if protecting some rare treasure.
"Where did you get the meat?" I croaked, setting the jugs down by the door.
Eren turned, his eyes aglow with excitement, grease smearing across his face. "Papa picked it up this morning! Isn't it awesome? You can come eat it while it's still hot."
"Where did it come from?" I drew closer, my gaze focusing on the pot. There was altogether too much of it. Much too fresh. My stomach turned. "Where did it come from?"
My father did not immediately respond. His eyes did not meet mine and his actions raised my suspicions.
"We haven't had real meat in months. What did you trade for this?" I asked.
Still nothing.
I could feel my chest constrict. "Father… what did you trade?"
He finally looked up. His beard seemed grayer than i remembered that morning, eyes bloodshot, jaw tense. He didn't answer.
"Lyra," he said instead, "I need you to run an errand for me."
"Now? I just got back."
He stood up slowly, his shadow stretched out lengthwise across the firelight. "Yes, now."
"I'm tired," I said, my voice low. "I was working in the fields until the sun set. I haven't eaten. I haven't bathed in two days,"
"You want to eat tomorrow?" he snapped. "Then you go. You go right now. Take what's left of your strength and do your part."
Eren sprang up from his position. "I can come with you!"
"No," their father barked. "You stay here."
There was something in his voice that scared me. Something too sharp, too conclusive.
"Why just me?" I dared to ask.
"Because I said so."
I did not stir. A chilled tingling began to spread across my skin.
I looked at my brother, at the grease still on his chin, the innocent glow in his face. Then I looked at the meat again.
"I'm tired," I said quietly, taking a step forward. "Why don't I go tomorrow."
"No," father replied. "They want it right away."
My fist clenched. All my instincts cried out for me to run, but where? There was nothing to protect girls who ran away from, they would be considered fair game. I knew what would happen to girls who did not belong to a home.
There was no other option. There never was.
My voice was empty. "Fine."
My father didn't thank me. He just turned back to the pot.
"Be safe, Lyra!" Eren waved cheerfully.
"I will." I forced a smile in his direction.
The night was hot and arid as I emerged into it, the moon was low in the sky, a thin sliver of illumination. I walked on the main path for a short distance before turning down a dirt trail leading to the edge of the village.
The quieter all was, the deeper I walked.
No lanterns. No fires. No people.
The trail led me to a circle of rocks, which was a recognized boundary marker dividing the village from the unknown region. I stood there, clutching my thin shawl more tightly around myself, waiting. For what, I didn't know.
I shivered as i scanned the area. There was not a soul in sight. No figure of any kind.
Only silence. And the sound of my own breathing.
I waited a few moments, hugging myself against the cold. Every part of my body was alert now, dread curling in my stomach.
That's when I heard it.
Footsteps
I turned.
A man emerged from among the trees. No cloak. No waiting. Just observing.
"Are you the one I'm supposed to meet?" I asked hesitantly.
The man didn't speak.
He was big, taller than anyone in the village, his clothes worn and mud-streaked. His eyes glowed faintly bright in the moonlight.
I took a step back.
'I think I'm in the wrong place,' I said. 'I'll just go back…'
He lunged, reaching for me with his hand.
I immediately turned and ran.
My legs, sore from the farming fields, cried out in agony. my feet slid on the soft earth. The man was quick. I could not glance backwards even as i heard branches snap behind me.
Then an arm grabbed my waist. I was screaming as I was pulled to the ground.
"No! Let me go," I kicked and scratched, though his hold was like steel.
He turned me over, pinning me.
His breath smelled of meat and ale.
"Pretty little thing," he rasped, leaning all his weight on me.
"No…," I managed, trying to kick him. "Get off of me."
"You're a feisty one," he growled. "I like that."
I screamed and scratched at his face, connecting with a scratch across his cheek. His face twisted in a snarl, and he hit me, a solid blow that knocked my head back into the dirt.
The world turned.
"Won't make this easy, will you?" he panted, straddling me. "No matter. You'll learn soon enough."
Then he started unbuckling his belt.
My heart almost ceased in fear at the realization of what was about to happen to me.
No.
NO.
I thrashed furiously, but he only laughed. My nails scored his cheek, and he slapped me hard enough to make the trees to double.
He started tearing my clothes.
Then
A whistle.
The man froze.
The whistle came again, high, sharp, deliberate.
Then, a shadow flashed through the trees behind us. Fast. Silent.
I did not have enough time to register the fact that I was saved before the man on top of me froze.
His mouth opened.
There was no sound.
A line of blood issued from his neck and dripped onto my face.
Then, his body fell forward into a lifeless heap on top of me.
I screamed.
A hand pulled the body away from me. I crawled back on all fours with my pounding heart.
And standing above the man who had tried to assault me was a man. Taller. Hugging a thick cloak. Disguised. Holding a sharp weapon in his other hand. Dripping with blood.
He didn't speak.
Just looked at me.
I pushed myself up, shaking.
"Who who are you?" I whispered.
The man cocked his head ever so slightly. His eyes were sharp, and there was an odd, controlled, animal-like motion to his movements.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said finally. His voice was low. It was like gravel.
"I was sent," I blurted out. "My father… he told me to come and meet someone."
"Of course." He muttered.