My routine continued, as usual, I made myself some dinner with whatever we had lying around. The meal tonight consisted of starchy tubers that needed to be boiled before they could be eaten, they were bland but nutritious if eaten with the skin on. After my meal, I started to read through my collection once again.

I tried to ignore the item on my table but eventually, curiosity drove me to take a closer look at 'The Art of the Word'. The name of the new leather-bound tome alone intrigued me but instead, I slid it under my bed with the others. Out of sight, out of mind.

With that taken care of, I knelt in front of my shelf and started with a book on agriculture, one that my mother had when she was young and when I grew bored I continued with the next book alphabetically, until my mother came home. As usual, the sun had almost completely set, but she didn't stay long though.

"Joan, sorry about this but I've got to get going, just wanted to check in before I head out."

She said from the doorway. She was covered in sweat and soot, her body had well-defined muscles, and the years of working the forges in the capital kept her body in peak condition. Despite her overall rugged appearance her soft facial features and short black hair looked a lot like mine but those were the only similarities between us. Apparently, my slightly darker skin and grey eyes were from my father's side but I had no way of confirming that.

"How was the new book?"

Her words were loaded with excitement, but just thinking about it twisted my stomach into knots.

"It was great."

I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

"I read a bit of it and knew it would be right up your alley. Have you eaten?"

I just nodded in response. She returned the gesture before slapping the door frame twice and excusing herself. I knew where she was going, to her 'night job'. I used to be so excited whenever she had gotten a new book for me, we were so poor that ordinarily, we wouldn't be able to afford such a luxury.

As a small child, I'd just accepted it gratefully but when I was thirteen curiosity got the better of me. I secretly followed her to the tavern and watched her leave with men in tow. I wished I'd left then but I decided to follow them, what I saw through the cracks of the shack walls couldn't be unseen and just like usual I had a new book when I returned from class the next day. I didn't think I was naive to the darker side of the world so it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on.

Later that same day, when she confronted me about why my collection looked so much smaller, I just told my mother that I kept the books I wanted to read the most under my bed so they were always in my arm's reach. I couldn't bring myself to destroy them, it would've been an insult to all that she's done for me, so instead the tainted trove lay just out of sight where it could fester.

I needed to distance myself from these thoughts so I lay in bed staring at the ceiling planks until I drifted off for another dreamless night. By the time I had woken up, I'd already missed my mother so I prepared my breakfast tubers and went to my mother's room. Hanging just above her dresser was a silver Flamberge, the serpentine curve of the blade was strange compared to the usual straight-edged swords one typically pictured. My father's Anima-blade, even long after the body had decayed the weapons remained, the only proof that my father existed lay before me. Its blade was polished to a mirror shine and every part of it was free of the dirt and grime that usually accumulated on things that sat around.

I leaned in close and kissed the blade gently, to honour the dead. Even if I never knew the man, my mother had such great respect for him. She had a seemingly infinite amount of stories about him and each one painted an unrealistic picture of a person more myth than man.

After a quick prayer to the forge above and with my respects paid I headed to class, my routine continued as it always had:

Wake up. Eat. Attend class. Go home. Eat. Read. Sleep.

Wake up. Eat. Attend class. Go home. Eat. Read. Sleep.

Wake up. Eat. Attend class. Go home. Eat. Read. Sleep.

The only difference throughout the week was how Alessia got into a fight with a boy and ended up with a black eye and a couple of bruises. The boy denied it of course saying that he would never hit a girl but he wasn't believed by anyone.

My life was on loop until one day Alessia didn't turn up for class. Just two seats over her chair was empty. At first, I thought she was just late but she never arrived. Maybe she was sick? I tried to check on her after class but all her father did was confirm her sickness. I wasn't allowed to see her but I wasn't in a rush to get sick as well.

Another day passed and once again her seat remained empty. Still sick huh. I gave her a silent prayer to get better and continued as usual.

Again. Once again the seat was empty. Alessia is strong, it shouldn't be too much longer till she beats this illness.

Again. Where is she? No one else is sick, rumours and illness tended to sweep through our village like a wildfire but I hadn't heard of anyone else getting sick yet.

Again. Something's wrong. I could feel it. Alessia didn't look the least bit sick before and now it was so serious that she wasn't able to get out of bed for five days? The sound of fabric tearing shook me back to reality. I looked down at my tattered sleeve, it looked moth-eaten and ragged. While I was consumed by my thoughts I'd started to tear the cuff off of my patchwork dress's sleeve.

Mr Mura was saying something in front of the class but I couldn't even pretend to focus. After class, I was going to see her no matter what.

Or so I thought. I arrived at her house, the only one with a small flower garden out front but no matter how much I begged to be let in, her father turned me away without listening at all.

"Get out of here! She's sick, I told you already!"

Alessia's father, Jon, shouted as he barred entry to their home. I kept pushing, trying to get him to let me through when suddenly he grabbed the scruff of my neck hard. I felt light as my body flew into the air, just as quickly as the sensation began it ended as the ground rushed up to meet me. I winced as something got twisted or sprained in the landing but the pain was heavily dulled by my anger.

I glared at Jon but he remained in the doorway like a human wall. He was a thickly muscled gruff man, I knew he was a miner and I knew he was an adult but still I didn't expect to be so powerless, to be thrown around like a doll was insulting.

"WHY!?"

I screamed loud enough to turn heads and cause others to peek out of their homes.

"Why won't you let me see her!"

"Stop making a scene! She's sick, you know that! Now get lost before you get sick too!"

He was getting furious for some reason, spittle flying from his mouth with every word, the veins on his head looked fit to burst. "Now. Get. Lost."

he repeated with emphasis.

No. It's not right, nothing about this seems right. I can't back down.

"If I get sick that's my problem! Not yours!"

Slowly people started to gather. He glanced at the forming group and spat at the ground.

"Fine! You really want to know what's happened? Alessia's gone, you'll never see her again! You happy now?"

I felt blindsided and numb at the sudden turn of events.

"Gone?"

I muttered, still unsure if I heard him right.

"Yeah, gone! She just up and ran away."

The anger in his voice slowly subsided leaving only bitter regret.

"She's gone. I kept hoping that she'd come back, that she was just throwing a tantrum, but it's almost been a week and I ain't even seen a trace of her."

Alessia wouldn't do that. She wouldn't leave me behind without a word. Would she? I started thinking back and, with the curse of hindsight, thought back to how strangely she'd been acting recently. Why did she want information on blade tenders? She doesn't like reading, in fact, the only reason why she borrowed my book on flowers was her love of gardening. Why did she get into a serious fight? It wasn't like her to seek out conflict. Why?

The flower bed out front was lovingly cultivated over the years and now had a great many flowers that bloomed at different times of the year. It even looked like she had planted a couple more bulbs recently judging by the disturbed mounds of dirt.

"I've already asked the guards in the city to send someone down to look for her but a runaway village girl isn't at the top of their priorities."

By this point Jon had lost all of the fight that his voice once had, all he did was stare at his shaking palms. It took me a moment to collect my thoughts, I sat there on the dirt in silent contemplation gnawing on my partially destroyed sleeve. I don't have enough information. I need to know more, maybe she left some sort of clue or hid a goodbye note somewhere?

"Please! Please. She's the only friend I have. Let me see Alessia's room, I need to see it with my own eyes."

He looked back and forth across the crowd anxiously before finally nodding. Without another word he fully opened the front door and stepped aside.