Roe awoke that morning to sunlight filtering through the gap between the shutters, little bits of dust catching the light and glinting as they spiraled towards the ground. The shadows shifted in the room as the breeze caressed the window like a mothers hand on a newborn's face. She sat up and stretched her arms in front of her, then turned her body to the side and lifted her legs over the edge of the mattress.
Stepping onto the cold stone floor, she padded across the room to the mantle of the firepit and grabbed her pitcher of water from the shelf. She poured herself a glass of water and drank greedily, replenishing her body with hydration after the hours she had been in bed. She then walked over to the window and threw open the shutters, bathing the room in light.
Her apartment was small, just enough room for a bed, a firepit for cooking, and a narrow bathing room with a tub. The walls were faded and cracked with age, little divots in the stone where people had previously hung decorations. A small stone counter surrounded a shallow cooking pit, where ashes had gathered in dunes and clumps, sprinkling over the floor in front of the pit with a careless ease. There was a small sink to the right of the cooking pit, with dishes piled to the rim. A faded rug ran was lazily strewn in front of the bed, tassels frayed and dirty, while a small door led to the bathing room. Candles were melted onto the windowsills, the mantle of the cooking pit, and on a couple of hastily hung shelves that held no other decorations. Her bed was a simple mattress, with coverlets and two plush pillows at the head. Other than a dresser in the corner and a compact table and single chair near the firepit, she had no other furniture.
She had a little bit of bread and cheese left on the countertop and she felt a rumble of hunger as she turned her attention to the food in front of her. She hadn't gone to the food market in a few days, and she cursed herself for not thinking ahead. It was difficult, caring for oneself; It felt like never ending tasks that provided little reward. She took a small knife and cut pieces of the cheese to eat with the bread, gnawing off pieces of the tough roll with her teeth. She had slept mostly soundly through the night, although her dreams were plagued with claws, too-long fingers slapping against the ground, and teeth. So many teeth.
She shook the remnants of the dream from her mind, and turned towards the dresser. It only took a few steps to cross the room to her clothes. She pulled on a tan tunic and a pair of deep brown pants that hid several clever pockets. Braiding her hair behind her head was difficult; her hair was shorter than she was used to after she had taken a knife to it the night before. It was getting far too long and she couldn't be bothered to take exceptionally good care of it, so shorter was easier.
She opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out a twin set of knives; short enough to conceal within her pockets, but long enough to do significant damage if she was challenged. She strapped a few small daggers around her ankles, and sheathed a larger dagger into a holster swung around her hips.
Her thoughts drifted to a time before she would arm herself to the teeth just to venture out into the city, when she was small and carefree, and had people protecting her from harm. It was always safer to go out in groups of at least two, and she remembered what it had been like to have people she could rely on. She thought of her cousin, a bright light in an ever-darkening world, a quick wit and generous smiles. She thought of her humor, as she laughed so effortlessly, cracking jokes and always trying to bring the best out of those around her. Her cousin was beautiful, with red-tinted dark brown locks, twin to her own. They had been told that they looked similar, and were often mistaken for sisters, although Roe hadn't seen the resemblance.
She missed the times when they would walk down the streets to the vendor's capital of Miraxis, perusing the wares of the merchants and trying on scarves and silks she couldn't afford. Sirscha would always preen over the colors, declaring each one better than the last, and throwing liberal compliments towards her about which ones matched her eyes the best. There were all sorts of different vendors in this district; cobblers and leatherworkers, dye shops and shops for sweets. Sirscha always preferred the clothing and dress shops, happy to spend her hours perusing the finery that adorned the shelves. Their afternoons were a whirl of fabrics, trying on dresses and tunics and scarves and sweaters. Her father always gave her a healthy allowance which funded her purchases for herself and Roe.
Her thoughts shifted to her uncle, who had been a bit rough around the edges. His stern face, framed with a large mustache that covered his top lip, his broad shoulders, the tan linen shirt and brown pants he always wore flashed through her mind. He was a wealthy blacksmith in the upper districts, and created weapons and armor for the Fae armies. He had been revered for his skill, which rivaled that of the Fae and even surpassed it in some cases. Because of this, her cousin had never known what it was like to want for something, and Roe attributed much of her sunny disposition towards her upbringing. She simply couldn't see the world in the same way after starving just down the street from where her cousin was living so lavishly.
But that didn't mean she didn't love her cousin, and didn't enjoy spending her days with her. Sirscha's ever protective father didn't approve of her spending so much time with Roe, claiming that Roe was a negative influence and that trouble followed her like night chasing away the sun. He would encourage her to make friends with some of the wealthier girls in the neighborhood, setting up dinner parties that Roe and her mother weren't invited to and were too poor to dress appropriately for anyways. But Sirscha had never cared for the wealthy ladies, and preferred to spend her time with her cousin. If her uncle had known what she got up to during the day he would have kept Sirscha far, far away from her.
Her mother was a seamstress, but because of where they were located, she had trouble drumming up business. They were in the middle district, which was not quite as poor as the lower districts, as they often owned their own homes and had a small space to grow food. While that may have been true, it was nowhere near as nice as the upper district that they lived right around the corner from. In the upper districts, homes were significantly bigger and more complex, with green spaces in the back for children to play, with kitchens that held deep basin sinks and two, sometimes three fire pits. They often had down mattresses, with bed frames that boasted hardwood from the northern forests. They had dresses and scarves and hats, never needing to wear a pair of shoes down to the soles. Beyond that, they ate fresh meat and fruits, never stooping so low as to provide their children with gruel to fill their bellies. It was said that the upper districts were favored by the Fae, so much so that they were the only ones to trade with Fae on a regular basis. It was known that only the most talented humans could hope to earn enough wealth to cross the border into the higher class.
While they owned their home, her mother often had trouble getting more than gruel onto the table. There were many nights where her mother would say she was full, and would give her portion to Roe. Roe had always wanted to repay her for her sacrifices, but had no skills she could leverage as she took little interest in sewing.
It was not long until she found something that she was good at, and it happened entirely by chance. Once, while they were out in public, Roe's mother had stopped inside of a store to purchase a bag of grains. It was a cool winter afternoon, and they had traversed to the western side of the district to run a few errands. The streets were narrow here, and wound through the houses, connecting to main roads like veins to an artery. The middle district was situated on the part of the valley that began rising towards the mountain, so there were many hills, roads peaking and falling in odd places. It was incredible to her that people had managed to build mostly level homes on these hills. Some were steeper than others, and it was necessary to have a good pair of walking shoes if you were going anywhere far. The sun was beating down on her, the high altitude making it merciless. The wind, however, was icy, and swept any semblance of heat from her body, causing a shiver to run down her spine to her toes. It was easy to get sunburnt here, even in the cool chill of the winter air, so she pulled the hood of her small cloak further over her head, hoping to conceal her face from the brutal sun. Roe had been waiting outside for her mother to finish, when a man walked by digging in his pocket for something. He fished out a notebook, and with it, a small bag dropped from his pockets with a plop into the dirt below.
Her first instinct was to call out to the man, but his long legs had carried him down the street before she could make a sound. She took a few strides forward and scooped up the bag, and discovered it had two silver pieces and a single copper inside. She felt a kind of excitement that she had only experienced once when she received a small gift from her mother. She wondered what other people carried in their pockets.
It had started out as a game, to see if she could be sneaky enough to swipe things from people without their knowing. Most of the time, it was a single coin, or a good luck bauble that the person had been conned into buying at a market. She began keeping the baubles on her dresser in the room she shared with her mother, and told her she had found them while they were walking through the city. But, when the coins started to pile up, she started slipping them into her mothers coin purse, noticing that when she did, there were less days where her mother went hungry.
Soon, it was no longer a game for fun, but for survival. Her mother had always been a gifted seamstress, and there were many days in her youth where fabrics and liners had been strewn about their small apartment as her mother worked to repair them. There was tulle, and linen, and even some soft silks that shone in the firelight from the small fireplace in the center of the room. She often admired the delicate stitching in the seams as her mother worked, noting how the fineness of the fabrics was infinitely softer than the itchy clothes she often wore. She did not have dresses like these; they were beyond anything they could hope to afford. In the early days, it was enough to feed them both, but as food prices skyrocketed, business slowed. People could no longer afford the luxury of clothing repair, and the days where Roe would play amongst the dresses became fewer and fewer. Soon, it was lucky if her mother had one or two dresses per week to work on, and even then Roe could feel the worry as food became more and more scarce.
When she stole, she felt powerful. She would take and take and take from this world that gave nothing to those it deemed were undeserving. She was small and unassuming in her young age, and she could often charm anyone who was looking too closely at her into underestimating her intentions. As she got older, she knew that if she didn't take from people, that she and her mother might starve. Especially during the brutal winters in the mountains. When she began coming home with money and even food, her mother had not questioned her.
She hated her uncle for allowing them to live in such desperation. Even at that age, she knew it was wrong that she could spend time with her cousin, but never come inside and never stay for dinner.
But, when her mother had passed away when she was fourteen, he took her in without complaint. And for that, she was always grateful.
It had been a shock to her when her mother fell ill with a wasting disease that left her so weak she could barely lift her head to drink the water Roe dribbled into her mouth. Her uncle was her mother's brother, so he had paid for doctors from the upper districts to come and visit, but none were able to diagnose or heal her. It was an icy winter day when her mother took her last breath, and Roe remembered the solitary walk from her mother's apartment to her uncle's estate in the freezing wind. Her tears had frozen her eyelashes by the time she had arrived, and she remembered it was the first and only time he had hugged her after she blurted out that her mother had died.
Grief had risen in her throat at that moment, shards of pain ricocheting through her insides. It was difficult to live in a world where they no longer existed, where she would never hear their laughter or see them smile, where she would never wrap her arms around them again. She stomped down on the emotion, pressing it into a place deep inside her. Grief was a useless emotion; everyone died. Their time simply came before she expected, and it was pointless to allow herself to feel sad when they were in the afterlife, waiting for her.
She patted her body down to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything, and then prepared to head out of the door.
There was a market going on in the upper district, which was situated a bit higher up on the great peak that shadowed the valley. The richest and most powerful of the humans resided there, considering themselves above those who suffered in poverty below them. They were often those who inherited wealth from cunning forefathers. Those who had built their wealth from nothing were more rare. The upper district was also closest to the wall that segregated the humans from the Fae, blocking off the tip of the valley and upper crests of the mountains for their majestic structures.
The Fae had ruled the land for over 2 millenia, for as long as anyone could remember, and for as far back as books dared to record. They were powerful, with magic at their fingertips and behind their tongues, a gift from the Goddess that only they were privy to. Humans very rarely had magic, and when it showed itself, it was often unpredictable and weak. The Fae could manipulate the lands and influence the harvests, and some had mastery over the elements. Their powers were something they kept secret from humans, so Roe barely had an idea of what they were capable of, just that she should avoid them at all costs. This wasn't difficult; They hardly ever associated themselves with humans unless to purchase wares from those who were skilled. They also transported livestock from the farms around the edges of the valleys that were only allowed to supply the Fae. It had been a problem for many years that there were so few farms in the valley that were allowed to feed humans, as a large majority of the farmland was run by humans that were slaves to the Fae.
When she was a child, one of the larger farms that had supplied humans with livestock had been turned over to the Fae. The price of meat skyrocketed, leaving many to resort back to gruel, thick and hard loaves of flour and water, as well as whatever they could grow in the little space they had. Human dwellings were often simple and small, with firepits and bathing rooms a luxury for most. Some of the wealthier humans had multiple levels to their homes, yes, but that was a rarity seen only in the upper districts. None of their buildings had glass in the windows; that was reserved for the Fae.
The Fae lived in opulence. While the buildings in the human district were crammed together and overpopulated, the Fae had spacious homes and acres between them. The mountain they lived on was enormous, so much so that it took up half of the sky when Roe looked towards it, and it was always glittering with Faerie lights that illuminated the structures on the peaks. It was disgusting how they lived while most of the humans below them starved. It made her sick to her stomach when she really thought about it, although she couldn't help but dream what it might be like to have so much.
Well, she'd have a little, at least. She'd make sure of it. As she closed her apartment door behind her, she locked both of the locks on the other side of the door with a rusty key, then stepped out onto the streets.