KYLA lifted her bag and stole one last glance at the room before stepping out. It was small, familiar, and after a while, it became her prison. She stepped into the hallway. It was long and dimly lit, and every footstep she took stirred the dust of old memories. The corridor had never really been a cheerful place for her, it carried memories of her sobbing quietly into the night while everyone slept. .

  “Spare the rod,” she muttered under her breath, then scoffed bitterly. She had never heard a more hypocritical phrase.

  She stepped into the living room and on the sofa wearing a rather long face was Harlene, her other-father’s second wife. Kyla probably would never dislike anyone as much as she disliked her. The woman was sprawled on the sofa, her black hair disheveled and her hands placed protectively over her protruded stomach.

  Kyla glanced away from her and headed towards the exit. “Huh, Kyla?” The woman called with a hazy voice. The red haired girl glanced back with a frown. “I didn't mean for this to happen,” she said. “For what it's worth, I am sorry,” she stopped talking, realizing that Kyla's hateful glare didn't change, in fact it seemed to intensify.

  Harlene was the reason she had to leave, although to be honest Kyla hated it here. The only reason she kept up with the constant maltreatment was her mother. She always felt the woman would be devastated if she just left home without notifying her but now that it was something she had to do, she felt free and unburdened.

  She pulled open the door to the main entrance and sighed before stepping out of the house. Seated on the small raised pavement in front of the house was her mother. She was an elderly woman, probably in her late fifties, she had a monocle on her right eye and her greyish hair was tied into a bun. She glanced up at Kyla and met her gaze with a smile.

  “You are ready,” she commented, appraising the red haired girl.

  “Yes ma,” Kyla replied with a forced smile.

  The woman scoffed and then turned back to gaze at the far horizon. “I have gifts for you,” she said after a while.

  Kyla’s lips parted into a mischievous grin. “I know you do, why do you think I have been standing behind you?”

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “Unappreciative brat!” She feigned a jab but Kyla had already jumped out of the way chuckling. After a while she picked out three things from her pocket. Her clothes always had pockets, a weird hobby of hers.

  Kyla’s gaze followed the materials with anticipation. “Sit down, rascal,” the woman said, tapping the floor beside her. Kyla obeyed diligently, her eyes still fixated on the gifts

  The three materials in her hands were a pendant, a pair of knitting pins and a pouch. Her mother placed them all on her lap and then picked up the pendant, staring at it with a forlorn expression. “What's it?” Kyla asked.

  The woman smiled. “Oh, it's something important to you. Although, I made a little statement the day I took it off Jada’s neck,” she chuckled.

  The red haired girl recoiled when she heard the name. Jada was the name of her mother’s real daughter, the one who had appeared on the doorstep of their house, clutching Kyla in her bloody arms.

  “You don't need to feel awful every time I mention Jada. What happened to her might look like your fault but it really isn't. She made a decision, so don't sully my daughter's judgement with your silly expressions,” the woman rolled her eyes at the end of the statement.

  “Stop calling me silly, old woman,” Kyla retorted, trying to shake the feeling off.

  “Ah. I will have you know that old age is a gift, all I do now is rest and eat,” she smiled. “Anyways. This pendant isn't really a gift. It is yours,” her mother turned serious. “When Jada brought you here, there was a letter in her hand, and it said to give you this if you ever wish to find your real parents.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Kyla frowned as the woman dropped the metal pendant in her hand. She appraised it for a while. The pendant was a sleek, cylindrical silver capsule suspended from a thin silver chain. The capsule itself was no bigger than her smallest finger, it was split horizontally, suggesting that it may open.

  Kyla unscrewed it and opened it. Inside was a small leaf-like object. She poured it into her hand and she realized it was indeed a leaf. A very tiny and narrow one, it was crimson and it felt ethereal on her palm. She couldn't really explain it but she felt a little at peace staring at the little object. “What is it?” She asked.

  The woman shook her head. “I buried myself in the library when I first saw it, I never found anything on it.”

  Kyla carefully placed the leaf back inside the capsule and screwed it shut. “Thank you,” Kyla smiled.

  “That's not a gift from me. That's probably from your real mother, so don't thank me for that,” she turned and lifted the knitting pins from her lap, handing it over to Kyla before she would argue. “Here, take this.”

  Kyla stopped short and grinned at the woman. “You know how much I hate knitting,” she shook her head.

  “Yeah, that is precisely why I gave you!” she flicked her in the forehead and the young girl winced. “Whenever you decide to rush into a stupid decision, which I know you will do, look at these pins and remember the reward in patience and steadiness," her mother shook her head and then picked up the last object.

  “This is a pouch of money. Take it,” she said with a straight face.

  Kyla bulged her eyes. “No. Those aren't mine,” she straightened her gaze.

  “And I say they are yours now, so take it.”

  “No,” Kyla said quietly. She understood how things were at home. Her other-father had been struggling for a while, and a new disease had swept through the farms, killing nearly half their livestock. Their own animals hadn’t been spared, and the family was barely managing.

  It was one of the reasons she’d decided to leave; to ease the burden, to be one less mouth to feed. But now, the stubborn woman she called her mother was trying to press money into her hands.

  “Whether you like it or not, you’re taking this,” her mother said, firm as ever. “You may be a little scamp, but I’m still your mother. Unless… unless you don’t want me to be.” She hesitated, then added softly, “If you still do, you’ll take this pouch.”

  Kyla shivered. “You shameless old woman… you’re not supposed to say things like that,” she muttered, shaking her head.

  “Who are you calling shameless, you annoying little…”

  But Kyla didn’t let her finish. She lunged forward and threw her arms around the woman, clinging tight as tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “I love you so much ma!” Kyla said with a shaky voice. “I don't want to leave you!”

  “You idiot,” the elderly woman whispered as they hugged tightly, her voice barely more than a breath. “I will miss you.” She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears, but she couldn’t. They slipped down her cheeks like a gentle stream.

  A low grunt interrupted them.

  “I’m sorry to ruin the moment, but we have to go.” The two women let go of each other and turned toward the voice.

  “Mia,” Kyla said, smiling.

  “That’s me.” The newcomer returned the smile and gave a casual wave. She was tall and slender, with delicate features and blue eyes like the ocean depths. Her skin was pale and smooth, almost porcelain. She was stunning to behold, and with hair that was nearly pure white, she carried an air that was almost otherworldly. Kyla secretly believed she might be an elf.

  “I hope you’re ready,” Mia said, her voice light and soft as feathers.

  Mia was a merchant who visited their small town from time to time. She usually stayed for weeks, buying and selling goods. Over the years, she had grown close to Kyla and become something like an older sister. Part of that bond came from the very first thing she ever said to Kyla; that she was the prettiest girl she had ever seen. Strangely enough, Kyla had been thinking the exact same thing about her.

  When Kyla decided she wanted to leave for the Capital and live her own life, away from her father and all the complications that surrounded their family, she’d been lucky enough that the merchant was around. The beautiful woman offered to get Kyla to the Capital and even help her settle down if she could.

  “I am ready,” Kyla said, glancing at her backpack and then at her mother.

  “Yeah, the brat is ready,” the elderly woman snickered, then stood up from the pavement, glancing at Mia. “Take care of her for me, will you?” She sighed before turning around.

  Kyla lifted her bag on her shoulders and then rushed to meet the woman. She waved to her mother as they began to walk away.

  Before they left the front yard someone opened the door to their house and she glanced back to see her father just staring at her. She smiled at him a bit and then turned around. Kyla and the man had a very complicated relationship.

  Although he was harsh and even wicked, he seemed to care for her but it was like he never understood if he should just hate her or love her. For a long time, Kyla didn't really understand why he was that way. However, she did now.

  She discovered she wasn't the biological child of her parents and their own daughter had died a long time ago at their door step with Kyla clutched in her arm, wrapped in a bloodied shroud. Apparently, Jada; their real daughter had suffered a stab wound to the abdomen but made sure to bring Kyla back to their door step.

  When she heard the story, she realized why she always felt like a piece that didn't fit in her own home and that was when she made the decision to leave. Her destiny was never in the small town of Erona and she always knew it, she just never understood why she yearned to leave.

  “Best of luck girl.” Her father said as she walked away and Kyla felt tears well up in her eyes, but she fought it. She had always been a sentimental person and leaving the life she had known her whole life left a lump in her throat.

  “Thank you,” she replied in a hoarse voice and then she took the first step forward and never looked back.