It was midday, and Eira had finished all the morning household work. She had to sweep the house daily, mop the floors, prepare breakfast, feed the salkaras, polish the furniture, clean the windows, and prepare for lunch before midday. Long day for a girl that only turned fifteen.
She was about to go to prepare lunch when she heard the clamoring of her mistress Bateli. She was a middle-aged woman with a short temper and a long nose. Eira knew the nickname the kids of the streets had given her - witch! As for the appearance, Eira was not sure but for the behavior she was certain, had it not been Baieliya, this woman would have already gulped her down along with a broth.
But Baieliya was gone now, and the house's air had long changed. After acquiring the inheritance, the couple spent it all on new land, clothes, furniture, livestock, and renovating the house—all to look anew, but from within, they were still the same. The change was, however, within Eira. With her 'Ma' gone, she was alone now. Though the work was all the same as now, there was someone to talk to, someone who saw Eira and not a servant.
She quickly entered Mosil's room to find the great artist Mosil with his paintbrush in his hand and his masterpieces on the freshly renovated wall. The kid was cheerful and proud of his creations, too, but his mother's face was red and puffed up, ready to explode at any moment.
"Eiraaa! Good gracious, where is this girl!"
"Yes ma'am"
Bateli pointed toward the bizarre blue, red, and pink creatures on the freshly coated cream color wall, "Eira, how are you going to explain this."
Eira stood stupefied, what was she supposed to explain over the deeds of this woman's snot-nosed kid? So she gave silence as an answer, which somehow offended Bateli.
"You can't even keep a watch over a kid, what good of a servant are you!" she almost shrieked.
Hearing all this the man of the house, Zenas comes. He was a tall and thin guy with round glasses and a silver tooth, though how manly and mighty he was in himself, he was no more than an ear's tender. "Oh! What's all this ruckus about today?"
Zenas enters the room and is greeted by the ...glare of his wife, Eira's gaze still on the floor. Seeing his father Mosil run over to his father, kicking aside all the little paint bottles, and letting the floor be his canvas this time, Eira could just simply turn away her eyes in disbelief, while Bateli gasped so loudly as her heart skipped a beat, as for our man, he simply got on his knees and opened his arms wide, ready to embrace his son. He picked Mosil up in his arms, unaware of the paintbrush in his hand, crafting the latest designs on his new suit.
Soon he understood what was all this ruckus about, but even so, what could he say for the deed of his beloved son? And so he said sheepishly, " This can be mopped right, the walls too, and as for the suit, it can be washed up as well. Now then, we shall not pay more mind to these colors, the banquet is soon to begin.
But these consoling words were just like the tiny droplets of cold water sprinkled on a hot pan, sizzling away instantly. Bateli made her way towards Zenas stomping across the floor. Her hands with those long clawed nails already reaching out to grab Mosil. ("Witch"), Eira whispered in her mind.
"Let go Bateli! He is just a child."
"I won't let go. What if he is a child? He needs lessons, and they're too good."
Our Mosil's glorious expressions had long washed away, and they were now anxious and reserved, which they were too prideful to show, so they decided to keep it hidden in their father's chest.
"Bateli for all we don't have time for this squabbling, the BANQUET IS ABOUT TO START!"
Hearing upon the banquet, she paused and forgot everything else, "Oh yes the banquet, I haven't picked up my dress yet. Just wait, honey, give me some time, Today, those old hags will finally see my expensive jewelry and my new exquisite Ivingrathian gown." And she left the room in a hurry.
Eira knew, even though for now Bateli's fret was suppressed, it would later come out in an uglier manner, these years with this woman had long taught her that. And when do emotions ever die, either we project them onto someone else, or else they feed unto us.
"Eira you must now get changed quickly as well," said Zenas. Eira nodded and headed to her room if it could be called a room.
But hearing the last words, Bateli turned back, "Wait. Zenas, how come Eira is supposed to come with us."
Eira looked at Bateli and then at Zenas, Zenas spoke with a firm tone, "I can't find any reason for her not to."
"If your head could reason, then even after four years you still wouldn't be stuck as a lower courtesan. If we are to take her with us, then who is supposed to clean all this mess that your beloved son has made."
Eira paused, looking between Bateli and Zenas, knowing full well how this argument would end. She held her breath, hoping Zenas would keep his stance.
Zenas cleared his throat, glancing at the mess his son had made, and then back at Eira. "Bateli, this isn't her fault. She's worked all morning, and we're taking her with us."
Bateli crossed her arms, sneering. "Taking her with us? So she can parade around in a ragged dress and embarrass us all?"
Eira felt her cheeks flush but kept her gaze steady on the floor, letting Bateli's insults wash over her.
Zenas, ever the diplomat, tried to deflect. "She's more than earned her place with us tonight. And besides, she's here to help. It's...good for our reputation to be seen as generous."
Bateli scoffed, turning her pointed gaze on Eira. "Reputation? You think the nobles care about some servant girl?"
Zenas raised his voice slightly, standing firm. "Bateli! Eira is not our servant."
Bateli rebounded at this, "Then what else is she? Your mother brought her from God knows where, claiming her to be the child of some distant relatives that perished and that we were to adopt her."
Zenas interrupted, "These matters are already discussed."
Bateli spoke with a fierce tone. "Discussed as they were, they were never made clear." She looked over at Eira with a cutting glare. "Hear it, girl. For now, I shall tell you who you really are."
Eira stood still, her gaze fixed on the floor, her heart growing heavy. What else was she about to hear that she hadn't already known?
"Bateli, you must not... We are only to decide whether she comes along to the banquet. What does her background have to do with it?"
"It certainly has to do with everything!" the woman shrieked, loud enough for the pedestrians outside to pause momentarily.
Zenas let out a frustrated "tsk," scooped up Mosil, and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang. Seeing him leave, Eira felt her heart sink deeper; the thought of being alone with this woman, this witch, was haunting her.
After the loud bang, the room grew silent. She could feel Bateli's eyes on her, but all she could do was look down, trying to escape their piercing glare, trying to hide herself. Isn't that what we all do? Trying to unsee the fears? To hide from them?
"Look up," Bateli said. It was a simple command but carried enough weight to force Eira's compliance.
Eira raised her head, her eyes meeting Bateli's. The older woman stared long into those eyes, sinking into their depths, almost enchanted, as though caught in a trance by the deep black of Eira's gaze. Suddenly, she shook her head, snapping herself out of it.
"No. I won't be taken in by those eyes again. They fooled me once, but no more. It was those very eyes that made me believe you belonged to a noble house. But now that the fog has lifted, I can see clearly—you're nothing more than an orphan whom that woman, Baieliya, pitied. And if I'm to be honest, I think she brought you here because she was lonely."
She scoffed bitterly. "It's no wonder—a lunatic like her would be lonely. And so, finding someone equally miserable, she brought you along. And you played your part perfectly, clinging to her at every turn. So much so that even in her final breaths, she chose to share them with you, not me or her son, but with you—an outsider."
Eira said nothing. That was the kind of person she was—meek enough to endure insults hurled not just at her but at the people she loved.
"One day, Baieliya left the house, dressed and jeweled, claiming she was going to meet a distant relative—someone even my husband had never heard of—and that they had recently had twins. A month later, she returned with a cradle in hand. In it was a baby girl, no more than a month old—you.
"Both Zenas and I were shocked and demanded answers. That's when she told us your story. The couple you were born to—they were said to be like the couples written about in poems and songs. Their love was so deep that the hunger of one could be felt by the other, and the sins of one were borne by the other. But despite their love, they struggled for years to have a child.
"Finally, one day, it happened. They were overjoyed, especially your father. And then, when the twins were born, he went mad—not with grief, but with joy. Two children, after so many years of waiting! But his joy turned to obsession. He believed there might be more children hidden within his wife's body, gifts from God he hadn't yet seen.
"And so, he dug. He clawed at her flesh, ripping and tearing, searching for what wasn't there. All he found were nerves and blood. Enraged, he dug further, his hands pulling out pieces of her body, until finally, he reached her spine. Only then did he stop. And in that moment, the weight of what he'd done crashed down on him.
"He was overcome with guilt, unable to bear the thought of another breath. He wrapped his neck in his wife's placenta and ended his life, his head buried in the hole he had carved in her body.
"When Baieliya arrived at the house, it was silent—except for the sound of a baby crying upstairs. Slowly, she made her way to the bedroom. Blood stained the corridor leading to the door. Inside, she found the most grotesque sight of her life: the excavated corpse of a woman, the strangled body of a man, and two bloodstained children on the floor.
"The boy had aspirated blood into his lungs and died shortly after. You, Eira—you were the only one left alive. And this... this is your story."
Eira fell to her knees. The world spun around her as her mind reeled from what she had just heard. Gripping her head with trembling hands, she tried to calm the storm inside her. Her heart raced, her breaths came in sharp gasps, and sweat poured down her face as her pupils shrank to pinpoints.
"Zenas kept insisting we not adopt you. But it was me, Eira—I let you in. I raised you. Baieliya may have saved you, and you may have cared for her, but I was the one who gave you a house, clothes, food.
"And do you know why I did it? Because Baieliya told me about the inheritance your parents left behind. But when you turned fifteen, and we went to claim it, all we found was an empty box.
"So I hated you, Eira—for being a curse, for being born surrounded by death. And when I learned you had no inheritance, I had all the more reason to despise you. So now I ask you: Will you be my servant for the rest of your life?"
Eira sat in silence. The world had blackened around her long before this moment. What did she feel? Grief? Fear? No, above all, it was anger. And yet, in the abyss of her emotions, the only word she could muster was a soft, "Yes."
Bateli knelt before her, studying her face closely. "But as you were the only one there in Baieliya's final moments..."
She crossed her arms and sat on a nearby stool, wiping the weariness from her face. Then, with a calm yet sharp tone, she asked, "Where did she hide the inheritance?"
Eira's numbness shattered. She knew she couldn't let Bateli discover that it was buried beneath the fourth pillar of the shrine. But her silence and expression betrayed her.
A sly smile crept across Bateli's face. "So, she really did hide it. How amusing."
A shiver ran down Eira's spine. Even if it were nothing but sand, she couldn't let this woman take what her Ma had left behind.
Before Bateli could press further, Zenas burst into the room. He glanced at Eira, collapsed on the floor, and then at Bateli. Though his face betrayed his anger, he restrained himself.
"Bateli, we have to leave. Now."
Bateli stood with a smug smile. As she left, she turned to Eira and said, "Make sure to clean the walls and floors, and wash all the paint-stained clothes."
And once again, all Eira could say was, "Yes."