The wind whistled through Isabella's bristly hair as she made her way down the desolate alleyway. The thin raggedy coat she wore failed to keep the cold from permeating throughout her body. Her family was poor and could not afford luxuries such as the thick winter cloaks worn by the nobles, so she could only make do with an old garment stitched together by her mother many years ago. Although she shivered with each step she took, she had no problem enduring such conditions as she had experienced mother nature's cruelty every winter since her father passed away.
Five years ago, when he was still alive, her family used to live in a small home in the eastern district of the city. Although it was not large, it was cozy and warm. Her father had worked in the military, often traveling on expeditions across the country.
Some of her fondest memories were when he would return to recount his treacherous military adventures, while her mother listened worriedly with a horrified look on her face. She'd always end up nagging him until he would admit to the gross exaggerations. Meanwhile, the fire would crackle in the background, enveloping the entire household with warmth.
The money her father had made was enough for them to lead a happy and stable life, free from the strife of the cold and hunger. She had attended military school every day and was training to become a soldier just like her father, who she looked up to more than anyone else in the world.
When she heard that he had been killed by demi human attackers while on guard duty on the city wall, she had been devastated and fell into a deep depression for many weeks. The corrupt government wrongfully withheld the sum of money her family should have gotten in compensation for her father's death. Without a source of income to pay for the house, she and her mother were forced to move to the slums in the outer ring of the city. It was there where they now resided in a tiny shack on the edge of an unpaved street. She was forced to quit school as she lacked the funds to pay tuition.
Every day, she and her mother would often look for odd jobs around the city, trying to scrounge up enough copper coins to buy enough food and firewood to sustain themselves. Being from the slums, it was often difficult to find those in the inner city that would hire them, and there were many days where they could not earn anything. There were many cases of employers refusing to pay them afterward, deeming their work unsatisfactory. However, they had no recourse as the odd jobs they did were not recognized by the government.
As her mother had hurt her ankle the previous day clearing snow, Isabella trod the path to the inner city alone. Hoping not to fall ill, she wrapped herself even more tightly with her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay.
"I have to take care of mother, I'm not a child anymore" she thought.
It would soon be her 16th birthday in a couple of weeks. In the past, she had once longed for the day she would reach adulthood so that she could take the military exam and follow in her father's footsteps, but now she was very hesitant to even attempt it. After moving to the slums, she kept practicing the skills she had learned with a small dagger given to her by her father. Although she kept diligent in her practice every night, her strikes gradually became weaker and less precise the longer time went on. In her heart, she had already recognized that she would no longer be able to pursue her father's footsteps.
Suddenly, she saw a young man collapsed on the ground with a large gash over his chest. He wore creased leather boots with a thin cloak over a patched-up tunic which was stained with blood. His face was contorted into a grimace and was barely breathing. If he were to be left there, he would certainly bleed out or freeze to death very soon. He seemed to resemble the son of a merchant, but she was unsure why a merchant would ever come to the slums. Robbery was very common in impoverished sectors of the city, which lead many businessmen to take longer routes to avoid them.
She hesitated to get closer to him, fearing the attackers to still be near. If she were to help him, she would not only risk her own safety, but she would also lose any potential income for the day. She knew the food currently at home would not last long.
However, as she was about to silently leave, the words of her father reverberated in her head. "You should always help those in need, even if you have nothing to give," he would say, in a soothing voice.
She let out a deep sigh and silently cursed her father for being such so kind. "Maybe if he were a little selfish, he would have survived the attack instead of staying behind to protect his squad members". She quickly shook those thoughts out of her head. Unwilling to let the man die, Isabella wrapped his arms around her shoulders like a scarf with great difficulty, and started to drag him back the way she had come.