"Is it gruel again?"
Rebecca wanted to be difficult. She disrupted the daily routine set for her; one where two guards walked into her cell, silent and scornful.
One of them always carried a wooden bowl filled with bitter grey slop or stale bread. While the first guard fed Rebecca with one hand, the other hand wrapped itself around the spear.
The other guard had their weapon drawn and pointed at Rebecca at all times.
"I don't like it," Rebecca declared to the guard who fed her. "It tastes weird. Like throw up. Is that how you make it? You should throw it out."
The first guard—a muscular woman with black hair, tanned skin and golden eyes—they all had golden eyes, Rebecca realized—glared.
"We can always starve you to death instead," the guard said with a sharp tone.
Every guard had sun-kissed skin. They draped themselves in dark violet outfits that weren't too revealing but allowed their bodies to breathe. The choice of clothes was no doubt due to the heat.
During daylight, Rebecca perspired in blistering temperatures. At night, her thin body shivered from an unspeakable cold, though the guards begrudgingly brought her blankets to her to lie beneath.
Rebecca couldn't see the lower half of her captors' faces; they covered their mouths with veils. She wished the women did the same for their eyes.
Rebecca didn't like the way the women looked at her.
"It's not my favorite," Rebecca said. Her stomach wrenched from hunger. "That's what I meant. It's OK, I guess."
"That's what we thought, girl."
The guard tossed the bowl into Rebecca's lap. She treated her like a curse that could be touched, with the way she kept her distance from Rebecca and the wall.
A wooden spoon stuck out from the lumpy sea that was her meal. The first guard snatched the spoon out from it and shook her head.
"Let's get this over with," she sighed. "The usual. Open wide."
Rebecca sensed the snarls behind both veils. She ignored them while the first guard shoveled the gruel in her mouth.
Rebecca hated how embarrassing the moment was for her. She felt like a toddler, like someone whose age reversed to the time they were in diapers.
The only part about this that Rebecca liked was the guard's misery in carrying out this duty. When the guard was done, everyone seemed relieved that it was over.
"That should be it," said the guard, scooping the bowl up from Rebecca's lap before backing away.
"Is the bowl empty?" Rebecca asked. "You're captain obvious."
The second guard scoffed and snapped at Rebecca in the strange language. Rebecca figured some of the words were cusses.
She smirked at the woman's frustration and how it carried over to her calmer companion. They both despised how their so-called prisoner treated them.
Rebecca didn't care.
She was going to give them attitude until her very last breath, no matter how badly it turned out for her.
The guards' voices grew shrill as they continued complaining. A rush swirled in Rebecca's chest.
Her chains rattled as she balled both hands into fists. She stamped the ground with her bare feet as best as she could, despite the chains.
"Quit talking like I'm not here!" she shouted. "And speak Ingles! Or 'common language,' or whatever you call it. I call it English. At least be mean to my face so I can understand it, putas."
The first guard snapped her head in Rebecca's direction, her glare all the more fierce.
"Silence!" she said. "You shouldn't speak at all. We hold your very life in our hands!"
Rebecca tried to forget that. She fought against trembling.
Rebecca watched the second guard's eyes widen as her glance darted back and forth between Rebecca and the first guard. The second guard placed a cautious hand on her companion's shoulder.
"Mira," said the guard in a quivered voice. "Don't. Remember...the crater...the wasteland."
The guard called Mira kept her rage focused on Rebecca. Rebecca did the same, unwilling to back down.
There was a stalemate, a standstill, a space of tense silence where anything could have happened.
Eventually, the guard named Mira sighed.
"I know," she said. "Yes, I know." Mira stood up and turned toward the cell's door.
Rebecca smirked again. "If you think I'm so dangerous," she said. "Give me a key. I'll get out of here and you'll never see me again."
Mira rolled her eyes. "We wouldn't wish that on the world. Say your daily prayers, vevhi. We'd love to lead you out to the gallows."
The word "gallows" made Rebecca's stomach swirl. She wasn't really sure what they were, but knew they had something to do with the death sentence they wanted to give her.
"Or..." Rebecca saw Mira's lips curl into a mischievous smile from behind the veil. "Back out to the desert. Exile sounds just as nice. No one would bother you. We'd know to avoid the place for a while. It's not like many of us go out there. We've done it before. You wouldn't last, girl."
"If I find out what I did before all this, I could just mess you up."
The threat seemed enough for the guards. They both drew their weapons, pointing them at Rebecca.
She sensed their fear in a way. They had that feeling about them, a feeling Rebecca swore she could touch but couldn't really put into words.
"I won't let a demon child tear through us," Mira vowed. "I'll guarantee your death before anything else—"
"That's enough."
A familiar voice halted everything. Everyone in the cell turned towards a woman standing in the cell's open doorway. She was flanked by two additional guards dressed in the same garb as the first two.
The woman who led them looked different, though Rebecca couldn't make out her features with the shadow that cast itself over her.
"She was provoking problems," Mira quickly said. "Just like you warned. We weren't sure if she was going to do anything—"
"That's no excuse for what you were trying to do."
The woman stepped inside the cell, revealing herself in the light of a torch with a flame that brought the room a slight glow. Her skin was the same as the guards; tanned and sun-kissed.
Her eyes were golden like theirs, but less judging and more calm. She had large lips decorated by silver gloss and sported a pink outfit with pointed crimson shoes.
The woman gestured toward the doorway while keeping her eyes on the guards.
"You can leave now," said the woman. "Both of you. Thank you for feeding the prisoner, doing your duty and showing her how easily bullied some people can be when they're young vevhis."
"You're too gentle on a demon-child Na—"
"I meant you can leave right now."
Mira and the second guard glanced at each other before looking down at Rebecca one last time. Then, they left the cell.
Rebecca looked down at the cell's hard floor, struggling to make eye contact with the woman before her. She heard the woman's footsteps, which stopped right in front of Rebecca.
A shadow cast itself over the child, who felt so pathetic in her chains.
"Hi," Rebecca managed to say.
"Is there anything else you would want to say?" asked the woman.
"No, 'hi' sounds good to me."
"It's better than the swear words you gave me earlier."
"You're nicer now than you were then."
The woman sighed. "You have to respect people in this fortress or you will not last. What are you thinking, speaking poorly to armed guards who are so wary of you?"
"I'm thinking they shouldn't lock a ten year old girl up like she's some dog, that's what I'm thinking."
Rebecca sensed the woman kneeling down. "Are you always so contentious?"
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "What's 'contentious' mean?"
"Petty."
"Oh. Yeah, I'm super petty. I'm salty, lady. I ain't letting none of you drag me around 'cause you think you can! That's not how it works! I'm not a doormat."
"No, just our prisoner." The woman snatched Rebecca by the chin with a thumb and finger. She snapped Rebecca's head up so they could see each other eye to eye.
Every one of Rebecca's captors seemed to act the same way, as if they were all one person. Her glare carried the same rage as Mira's, focused and ever so piercing.
"Prisoners follow rules," said the woman. "Or they suffer consequences. Consequences not everyone can protect you from. Especially in your position. Dammit, can't you see that?"
"Let go of my face." Rebecca thrashed away from the stern clutch. "I just want to go home." She hated the tear that rolled out from one of her eyes. "I didn't do anything and you want to kill me."
The woman shook her head. "No one wants to do that, they're...they're just afraid and some think that might be the best solution." Rebecca sensed the woman being in thought. "You talk about this home. Oak Shire, right? Do you...have a family there?"
Rebecca nodded. "Everyone has a family. I have a Mom and a Dad."
"A mother and a father...?" The woman murmured the phrase, as if it were magic to her. Rebecca didn't understand why she was so shocked. Didn't they have families here?
"What are they like?" the woman asked.
"They're kind." Rebecca felt herself smile, but wasn't sure how the woman would respond to that. "Papi is too relaxed. He watches soccer on TV—" Rebecca stopped herself, realizing the woman might not know what that was. "You kick a ball around and put it in a net to score. My dad says a lot of people play it. HIs favorite team is the Manchester United."
"Who are they?"
"A soccer team."
"What is that?"
"What's what?"
"Soccer."
"Um...?" Rebecca scratched her head and remembered that in this place, for whatever reason, none of her world was familiar to them. Where was she?
"Where are they from?" Nabooru asked. "This...soccer team."
"England."
"Where's England?"
"...look, where am I? I have no idea where you all put me."
"Apparently nowhere near your home. I sense that now. So, you have a mother as well. Who actually...stays with your father? As in she actually thinks he's worth her time?"
Rebecca nodded. "She gives me lots of advice. She says stuff like 'keep a brave face, mija. Like stone. You have a powerful spirit and a powerful mind. Don't be afraid to show it.'"
The woman hummed her approval. "She sounds like a wise woman."
"She is. I miss her a lot."
"Maybe...maybe we can find a way to help you see her soon. And you can watch your father's soccer and see this...United England group you speak of." Rebecca didn't try to correct the woman. "I'm sure your body's sore from sleeping on the ground. I can get you a bed. If you behave."
"That'd be nice." Rebecca hid her gratefulness. "Thank you."
The woman stood. "What's your home like?"
Rebecca shrugged. "Quiet and small. There's a park, there's a river, there's a place downtown with a fountain. There's a lake not too far from it. It's really boring outside of that."
"The desert isn't much better," said the woman. "I think your town is more exciting. Safer at least."
"There was a time when it wasn't too safe, but...it was a one time thing. I almost drowned. Someone saved me."
"Good for you. We live in a large fortress out here in the desert. We hide from those with...prying eyes."
"Am I in the fortress now?"
The woman seemed to hesitate, giving Rebecca a hard look before answering. "Yes, actually. You're in the prison portion of it, in case you were wondering."
"Yeah, I figured."
"Do you have a bed where you live?"
"In a room with a window. And a closet."
"You must be wealthy."
"Papi says we're broke."
The woman chuckled. "You have a mother and a father. They're both together. I wouldn't do that in a million years. How fascinating...but disappointing."
"Why?"
The woman turned away from Rebecca. She seemed to wrap her arms around herself, as if the room turned cold. It was still the middle of the day.
"I...thought you were...nevermind. It's not important anymore. It complicates things, young lady. The sisters may not like the news."
A thought crossed Rebecca's mind. "Hey. I, uh, always hear about sisters."
"Only women live here. There are no men, except for..." The woman's golden eyes dimmed. She sneered like the guard and Rebecca wished she wore a veil as well. The thought of men seemed to change the woman's mood.
"There's...one man who oversees matters," the woman said. "It's sad you hail from a world of men."
"I don't want to be in a world of boys," said Rebecca. "They're so dumb sometimes. I know an idiot I can't stand. He tries to be everyone's boss, but he's just...ugh, stupid. Nice, but stupid."
"I wish that were only the problem with our man. A bit of advice. Men will always be weak. They can't resist a woman—" the woman clasped a hand over her mouth. "I—sorry, I shouldn't speak like that." Rebecca suddenly giggled. "What?"
"Mama tells me things about—" Rebecca fought back more laughter. "—That stuff."
"About...men and women...?"
Rebecca nodded. "She said she couldn't lie to me. I was going to find out someday. She said if I tried anything before getting married, she'd beat the brown off me."
"Honesty is a good policy. She raised you well."
"Are people really talking for me?" Rebecca asked.
"There's at least one," said the woman.
"Who?"
"Well...me."
"Oh." Rebecca grew quiet and didn't know what else to say. "...uh. Thanks."
"As always, you're very welcome."
"What happened to me in the desert?" Rebecca asked.
"You were...unconscious in the desert. A strange storm hit the land and we had to make sure the wasteland was safe. When we found you, your clothes were in tatters—that's why you have the grey outfit, by the way. We were concerned. We...thought that maybe you were one of us."
"I'm not."
"I know that now. The moment you woke up, you let out a scream. Green...energy came out of you. It was like a shadow. The image reminded us of...very interesting things. It was very strange. Strange indeed."
"Is that how...?"
"Yes, that's how the hole in the desert was made. It was carved out by bizarre energy...energy you know nothing about."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Honestly...I'm just a kid."
"I know. It just scares the hell out of every Gerudo woman out there. I'm really fighting to keep you alive. I don't think you're evil. I just wish you were one of us. You look so much like it...there's some differences, but the features are uncanny. The truth is stranger than fiction, they say. You have both a mother and father you live with, so I suppose it's impossible...but such a coincidence. They'll have to deal with the truth."
The woman turned to leave and Rebecca's heart leapt.
"Hey!" Rebecca heard herself say. "Do...do you know what I found out two years ago?"
"What?"
"I'm...adopted. A bad accident happened and I almost died. My parents spilled the beans, I don't know why. But there. I...I don't know where I really come from. I want to find out someday."
The woman paused and nodded, as if the answer satisfied her. "Sit tight," she said. "Hang on. The storm will pass you by."
"Why did you save me?" Rebecca asked.
"You have a familiar air about you. One I can't explain. That's all I will say for now."
"What's your name?"
"Nabooru. And yours?"
"Rebecca Rosario Santos."
"That's a mouthful. And a strange name."
"You can just call me Rebecca. My best friend Sheila does."
"OK, Rebecca. I'll keep defending you. My word here is very strong. Just behave, alright? Be respectful."
"Sure."
"Saa'vorq."
As Nabooru left Rebecca behind, she pondered what the woman meant by the strange word. It must have been a way of saying goodbye. Rebecca didn't feel right not returning the word, even though Nabooru was far away.
"Erm...saa'vorq back at you..." She wanted to add a little bit of herself to the conversation. "...Senorita Nabooru."
In her heart, Rebecca hoped Nabooru heard her. She hoped that as the woman walked away, she smiled, thinking of the girl she had gotten to know.