The Cottage

The first place I thought of was the bakery. If I was lucky, Leo or Austin might still be there, and maybe I could spend a few nights with them until I found somewhere to live for now.

It was already dark outside by now and I shuddered as the cold dug into my skin. Even though I had a jacket on, it did little to protect me from the night's weather. I started towards the bakery at a brisk pace and fished out my coin purse to see how much I had in savings, even though I already knew the number by heart. 498 loches.

Even though I had saved it up over the course of six months, it was hardly enough to rent a small room in someone's attic. There was no way it would cover food expenses for long, so my best bet was to stay with Leo, where I hopefully wouldn't have to pay too much.

A wave of relief washed over me as I saw the bakery still illuminated from the inside. At least someone was still there.

"Sorry, we're closed for the day—" Leo started as I opened the door, but paused once he realized it was me. "Oh, Brielle. What brings you here?"

"It's kind of important." I blurted out the entire story, starting with when I walked back to the orphanage to the time I was accused of stealing and kicked out by the directress. He nodded slowly, but to my surprise, he didn't show any emotion at all. His expression was just as if he was watching a play: quietly curious, carefully invested, but knowing that it wasn't a major matter.

"I see," he said finally, after a few moments of silence.

"So, I thought I'd ask if I could spend a few nights with you…"

"Oh that'll be a bit difficult. You see, our house is quite small, and I'm not sure if we could accommodate…"

"You don't have to worry about that! I won't take up much space. I'll sleep in the attic or on the floor if I have to. I just need a roof over my head. You don't even need to feed me, I'll arrange that myself, sir. So please!" I pleaded earnestly, but he didn't budge.

"I'm afraid I simply can't, my dear."

"But please—"

"Brielle, I can't," his voice was stern this time. "Well then, I'll be closing up for the night. Best of luck to you."

I hung my head and trudged back outside, into the freezing air. 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, I thought, when I suddenly heard Austin's voice behind me.

"Brielle, wait up."

I whirled around, startled. "I didn't think you were still here."

"I'm really sorry. You know how my father is, with his superstitions…"

"Superstitions? What's that got to do with anything? He just said you guys didn't have any space."

Austin's eyes widened, and then his face contorted to an expression of guilt. "Oh, ah, I'm really sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything…" he mumbled.

"Austin, what's going on? What do you mean by superstitions?"

He gulped nervously. "I thought you knew about what people were saying about you, but if you really want me to tell you, then I will. People think your family is cursed. My father let you work with us, since the bakery has always done well, but I think living with us even for a few days is a bit of a stretch."

"Oh…" Suddenly my throat went dry. So that's what people thought of me? I had thought those rumors existed only within the orphanage walls, but I was wrong. "So that's why it's been so difficult for me to make any money. And even talk to people outside the orphanage…" I trailed off.

"There's nothing I can do," Austin looked genuinely sympathetic. I hated the fact that he pitied me, but it wasn't quite unexpected.

"It's fine. I'll figure something out. Thanks anyway," I said curtly, and turned away. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but eventually retreated.

As I walked away from the bakery, I felt tears prick my eyes. It felt so unnatural and unfamiliar; it had been years since I had cried. But this time, I couldn't stop myself. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I sobbed quietly, walking around aimlessly in the dark.

I had nowhere to go. No family I could contact. No one I could rely on.

And now that I knew that everyone thought I was "cursed," I knew that there was little hope for me to live comfortably ever again. Chances were low that anyone would be kind enough to take a cursed child in.

After what seemed like hours of stumbling around in the dark, I realized that I was totally and utterly lost. I had strayed quite far from the village, and I couldn't see lights anywhere. In fact, I could barely see the outline of plants and trees here and there.

And it was 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥. It was more likely that I'd freeze to death before finding a place to spend the night.

That's when I spotted it.

The slightest bit of light, somewhere in the distance. Left with no other choice, I blindly ran towards it, tripping and stumbling here and there. But as I got closer, it looked like the light was moving. It was blurry and had an odd shape, and seemed to be leading me somewhere.

𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, I thought sullenly. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦…

After weaving between shrubs, bushes, and trees for some time, I finally caught up to the light and saw what it was. A small little cottage sat alone on a slightly raised plateau. There was a staircase-like pathway leading up to it, if you can even call it a staircase—it was really just rocks wedged in the dirt to form a pathway leading up the plateau.

Whatever it was, I hastily clambered up to the cottage and knocked on the door, silently praying that someone was there.

After a few moments, I finally heard the door unlock. A lady who seemed to be in her mid-60s opened the door.

"Why hello there, who might you be?"

"M-my name's Brielle S-Saienna," I said, teeth chattering. "I have nowhere to go and I'd b-be really g-grateful if I could spend the night here…" My lips seemed frozen together and I couldn't stop myself from stammering.

"Nowhere to go? Aren't you an unfortunate little one! Please, do come in!"

I let out a sigh of relief as I stepped into the warm little cottage. At least she didn't know who I was, and so there was no chance of her turning me down because of my "curse." It seemed like I would be safe here for a while, at least.

At that moment, I couldn't help but be grateful for my childlike appearance. Even though I was fourteen and a half and I wasn't expected to look quite mature, I didn't even look like a teenager at all. In this case it was a good thing—youth is often associated with innocence, after all.

"Would you like something to drink, dear? Hot chocolate or green tea, which do you prefer?"

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly—! I just wanted somewhere to spend a night or two."

"Nonsense! You must've been out in the cold for a while. Look at that, your fingertips are turning blue!" I looked at my hands. Sure enough, the skin under my fingernails had turned a violent shade of blue. "Please, sit down. I'll get you something warm."

The nice little lady brought me to the living room. It was dimly lit, but there was a fireplace going strong and it was cozy. Exotic tapestries hung on the walls, further enhancing the homey atmosphere of the room. Most of them were decorated with warm colors and gorgeous patterns. I sat down on the sofa to the right of the room, just close enough that I could reach out towards the fireplace.

In that cozy little room, I found myself reminiscing about my old home. I had always loved an atmosphere that was warm and intimate, just like this one, and my old room had been very similar. Lush carpets had adorned the floors and pictures depicting cultural epics surrounded me on most sides of the room. In the back of my room was a sunset-colored bed, and next to it was my study table.

Oh, how I missed my study table.

The number of nights I had spent reading or studying by lamplight at that table was unmatched by anything else in my life; reading brought a sense of comfort and solace to me that was unknown elsewhere. I had loved studying literature and famous authors from all over the world and all periods of history.

But alas, all that changed when my parents were killed—

"Alright, I brought some hot cocoa for you! And here's a hot towel for you to warm your hands, too," the old lady said cheerfully, setting a tray with the items next to me on the sofa.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality." I gratefully took a big gulp of the hot cocoa and sighed contentedly.

"Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself! My name is Maia. I've lived here in this cottage with my husband for 40 years now. Has it been 40? Gosh, I'm getting old." In the room's light I noticed that she really didn't look that old. There were wrinkles on her face, but she was so energetic and upbeat that you might miss it. Her hair was medium gray and framed her face in short curls that stopped just at the nape of her neck. She wore a pleasant smile and a colorful shawl that was bright but not too gaudy.

"It's very nice to meet you, Miss Maia," I said politely. "As I said, my name is Brielle. I'm from a town called Silkside. I'm not sure how far away it is though, or what direction…"

"Oh, Silkside? That's quite a ways away," Maia said, furrowing her brows with concern. "Anyhow, I'll spare you from too many questions. You look extremely tired. Feel free to stay here for as long as you like! We don't get many visitors out here, so it gets lonely. I'm sure my husband won't mind you staying for a while, either."

I couldn't help but beam. "Thank you so much! I'll try to help you around the house or do something to pay you back. I-I don't have much money, but I'm a hard worker, I promise."

"Oh, there's no need to concern yourself with such things," she replied. "Just take care of yourself and get some rest, alright dear?" She smiled sweetly. "There's a guest room down the hallway from this living room. It's behind the sofa you're on. The sheets are clean and there's some space for your belongings," she said, glancing at the bag at my feet. "It's getting late, so I'll be heading upstairs now. Let me know if you need anything, dear."

I thanked her once more and bade her goodnight, counting my lucky stars. It looked like things might finally be getting better. But it seemed like things only got worse when I said that, so I hope I didn't jinx myself.

Once I finished my hot chocolate, I washed the mug in the kitchen sink and hung it on the dishrack by the handle to dry. I wasn't sure what to do with the towel, so I kept it in my room's bathroom and resolved to deal with it the following morning.

I was so tired that as soon as I sat down on the bed, I collapsed. I couldn't even bring myself to do anything with my bag of belongings, much less change into clean clothes. Heck, I couldn't even move.

I reached over to the lamp in the corner of the room and switched it off, curling like a roly-poly on my bed.

𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥…

Within seconds, I was asleep.