Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Key Events in Ksenia's Life

From letters to journals to thoughts and everything in between, certain character story development requires free-form writing as it does not happen in a particular location. Thus, this little corner of Khy'eras can be used to jot down ideas and stories.
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Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Various memories from Ksenia's childhood to her 20th birthday that take place in Fellsgard.

Age nine
*
Age seven
*
Age three
*
Age eleven
*
Age five
*
Age eight
*
Age seventeen
*
Age fifteen
Last edited by Ksenia on March 8th, 2020, 12:33 am, edited 2 times in total.
Word count: 30
User avatar
Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age nine ~ A.O.N. 278, Summer - Verdant Row, Tviyr

Ksenia stumbled down the uneven path after her mother. Her nine-year-old legs simply couldn’t keep up with the woman who strode purposefully in front. “Ksenia! Quit dawdling, I must reach Verdant Row by nightfall!” Her mother stopped and put her hands on her hips. Ksenia ran to catch up, face red from exertion. “That’s better. You must be a good girl for your mam,” the woman said, her face softening.

Ksenia smiled up at her, but the woman’s face was already turned away, focusing on the road. Hefting her pack up onto her shoulders, Ksenia let her face fall again. There was no use complaining; Ksenia knew that well from her summers and winters traversing Tyvir. Mam had her own pack to carry, the same size as Ksenia’s, and would insist that they both had to share the load. Ksenia heard a trickle of water, not too far off, and felt the dryness of her throat remind her how thirsty she was.

“Mam,” she called. The woman didn’t react. “Mam,” Ksenia said, louder. Still nothing. “MAM!”

“Goodness sakes, you don’t need to shout Ksenia. Ladies don’t shout.” Mam scolded her.

“But Mam-”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, young lady.”

Ksenia dropped her shoulders. “There’s water over there. May I get a drink?”she said quietly. She pointed in the direction she had heard it.

“Only if you get me one too.” Mam slung her pack down and retrieved a flask, thrusting it at Ksenia. “Don’t take long.” Ksenia stumbled through the brush, pushing aside bushes until she reached the small creek. Scooping up some water, she drank from her hand. It was cold and sweet. She held Mam’s flask in the water, careful to keep the spout away from the creek bottom (that had been a very long night, the time she’d forgotten). She slurped a few more handfuls of water as the flask filled, then capped it and trudged back.

“Did you go all the way to Fellsgard for it?” Mam said as Ksenia stepped back on to the road. “Come now, I really must hurry.” Ksenia handed Mam the flask and hitched her pack up higher. “You’re such a needy child sometimes. Aren’t you glad you have Mam to take care of you?”

“Yes, Mam.”

The next hour passed well enough. Mam talked about the man that rumor had said was well-connected, well-heeled, and possibly handsome. “And Lina said her sister saw him - at a banquet no less - and that he was every bit as tall and handsome as Ruford. You remember Ruford, he had that nice house in the very western part of North Fellsgard, with that housekeeper, what was her name? The one that doted on you so.”

“Mary-Alice, mam.” Two summers ago Mary Alice had taught Ksenia a bit of embroidery as well as occasionally helping her stay out of the way of Mam and Ruford, who spared no time from each other. When things ended (as they did), Mary Alice had given Ksenia a plain working-woman’s pocket and a needlecase with a bit of thread wrapped around it. “Remember to practice and you’ll be a fine needleworker someday,” Mary Alice had said, handing her the gift. Ksenia had used her pocket to stitch her best examples, saving her underdress for practice.

“So anyway, he’s supposed to cut quite a figure in his fine clothes! Silks and fine wools and lace! Doesn’t he sound like such a good catch for me?” Mam giggled girlishly.

“Yes, of course,” Ksenia replied. She tried to sound as cheery as she could.

“Much better than that old stick-in-the-mud Gilbert,” Mam said, wrinkling her nose. “Imagine! Wanting me to stay cooped up all the time in his dusty old house! Not going to balls and parties and sitting around by the fire, listening to him talk about his day like it was the latest news.”

“Yes, what was he thinking?” Ksenia commisserated with her mother. She had actually thought it quite pleasant; Gilbert hadn’t cared if she sat by the fire as long as she didn’t block his view.

“You see! So I really must find a man who can appreciate me properly…” Mam rattled on as Ksenia made the expected responses. She was very much looking forward to seeing Verdant Row as she couldn’t remember ever being out this far.

Making their way to the inns, Mum inquired of the innkeepers of the price for a night while Ksenia stood in the street with their packs. “Highway robbery! I’m not paying a full gold for one night!” she exclaimed to Ksenia. “Luckily, a man told me there’s good areas for camping out by the river, and I’m sure I can talk one of the maids into letting me freshen up at the inns.” She picked up her pack and began walking. “Come along Ksenia.”

***

Ksenia pitched a tent with the supplies in her pack and started a small fire with a carefully hoarded match as Mam sat on a nearby log, brushing her hair. Her clouds of soft hair cascaded down her shoulder and toward her lap, the last few rays of the sun catching bits of warmth in its light brown tint. Ksenia always thought Mam’s hair was beautiful, down like this; it was usually tied up or teased into the latest style when she went out.
“Well, don’t just stand there gawping. Come be useful and braid my hair,” Mam said, motioning Ksenia to come over. Ksenia fed another stick to the fire and moved behind the log. “Gently! Soft hands, Ksenia. You know better.” Mam rebuked her as Ksenia took the mass of hair into her hands and began to brush it.

“Sorry, Mam,” Ksenia replied. She braided the length of hair in a coronet, circling Mam’s head and ensuring that there were no lumps to prevent a good night’s sleep. “Tent’s ready, if you want to go ahead and lay down.”

“Yes, I think I will,” Mam said, lowering herself to fit into the tent. “Wake me in the morning.”

Ksenia banked the fire best she could before crawling into the tent to make do with the edge of their blanket.

***

Ksenia heard rustling the next morning and got up to investigate. Finding nothing but songbirds, she worked to build up the fire to heat water. Once the water had been warming for several minutes, she gently shook Mam’s shoulder. “Mam, it’s morning.”

“Too loud,” grumbled the woman. “Too early.”

Ksenia was torn - should she wake Mam as she’d said, or let her sleep? Mam might be grumpy if she was woken up too early, but if she was late for whatever she was planning to do, that didn’t bode well either. “Come on, Mam, you said you wanted me to get you up in the morning,” Ksenia said. Mam shoved her away, causing her to stumble.

“Later.” Mam pulled the blanket over her head. Ksenia sighed and dug her mug out of her pack, then fished her mother’s out of Mam’s pack. It was buried under a petticoat Mam had taken on her way out of Fellsgard, leaving someone’s clothesline a garment poorer. Ksenia began steeping the tea in Mam’s mug, waiting until the liquid had turned a rich brown before removing the tea ball and placing it in her own mug.

She’d found a bit of jerky and an old bruised apple to eat, and sat on the log munching until Mam erupted from the tent. “Faryv’s embrace, Ksenia, were you going to let me sleep the day away?”

“No, Mam. Here’s your tea,” Ksenia said, holding out the mug with a placating tone. “You still have plenty of time -”

“Oh, what do you know?” Mam reached in her pack and began shaking out the petticoat and a dress. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Ksenia set the mug down on a flat spot in the log and got up, preparing to do Mam’s laces on her dress. She helped her mother into the form-fitting dress and knelt to put on Mam’s stockings and shoes. Her mother sipped the tea daintily, as though she were drinking from fine china instead of old crockery. “So you’ll be going into town?”

“Of course. Silly,” Mam shook her head. “Remember, do not follow me and wait at least ten minutes before you leave.” She handed the mug to Ksenia. “Be a good girl.” Ksenia watched as Mam walked toward Verdant Row proper, her dress swaying with the rhythm of her hips.

Ksenia drained the last of her tea and rinsed the mugs out. She secured what she could and hung her pack up in the trees in case of wild animals. Not that they had much food, but she didn’t want her pack getting damaged either. She slipped the few coppers she had into a pocket and hoped she could find some thread at a merchant here. There was a new stitch she had seen that she wanted to try to replicate on her pocket.

Making her way into town, Ksenia apologized to a bearded man in an old-fashioned coat. “Sorry!” she said to the man, who took no notice of her - and promptly walked right through her. She shivered as his heeled and buckled shoes should have stomped right on her toes, but neither they nor the sweep of his greatcoat’s tails gave any sensation. His derby wobbled with his motion atop his head, but no other sign of his passing existed. Ksenia paused a moment to collect herself before moving along again.

At the first square, Ksenia saw a group of women gathered at one corner. She approached them cautiously. “Excuse me?” she asked softly. No one looked over at her; she swallowed and prepared to speak louder. “Excuse me?” She was almost next to them now, and she was pretty sure that she’d spoken loud enough to be heard. Touching one woman’s elbow, she asked again, “excuse me?”

“Child, what do you want? You’re being very rude.” The woman huffed at Ksenia, scowling, as the rest of her group sported similar faces.

“Is there a store who sells thread here?” Ksenia’s face was red but she braved her way through.

“Second building on the third right from here. Now leave me alone.” The woman turned away sharply.

“Thank you.” Ksenia turned toward the direction of the shop the woman had indicated. As she turned on the street at the third right, Ksenia walked straight through a ghost. The ghost wore a frilly, fanciful dress with a high neckline and full sleeves. Her hair looked like it had been light-colored in life, perhaps blonde, and her straight brows and high cheekbones looked just like Mam’s. Ksenia felt a trickle of cold slide down her spine. Walking through ghosts was unnerving enough, but walking through ghosts who looked like they might be related to you was deeply unsettling. She stopped and watched the ghost continue on her way until she couldn’t make out her form any more.

There were more than two buildings on each side of the street and the woman who gave directions hadn’t specified. Ksenia stood in the path, staring alternately at both buildings as the overwhelming cold sensation skittered up her back again. She spun around to face a matronly female ghost whose arm was stretched out as if to tap Ksenia's shoulder - but instead her ghostly hand had passed straight through. “Lost, dearie?” she said. Her skirt wasn’t fancy and was covered by a large apron; her shirt waist was plain and her salt-and-pepper hair was tied up simply. Her face though, held a smile that must have delighted many a grandchild at some point.

“I’m looking for the store that sells thread here?” Ksenia squeaked a bit. She tried not to stare at the ghost too much, though hers was the first truly friendly face she’d seen.

“It’s right over here,” the grandmotherly ghost said, leading the girl to the third building. “You let me know if Mary gives you any trouble, all right? Sometimes the living make her a mite tetchy.”

Ksenia smiled at the ghost, opened the door, and was passed over by a female ghost in an ornate hat and an elaborate dress with ruffles around the hem and cuffs. That icy chill, Ksenia decided, was just not something you got used to.

***

Exiting the shop, Ksenia tucked her two spools of thread into her pocket. She smiled; she was looking forward to practicing her stitches later. There was an inn further into town, called The Heartbroken Socks. Ksenia made her way to the inn - helpfully marked with a sign bearing a pair of socks decorated with broken hearts - and was about to slip in when she heard a group of women mention Mam’s name.

“Inessa? That woman who’s been flirting with Anton since he came to breakfast?”

“Yes, her. Where did she even come from?”

“Her? Who knows. Everyone here is from somewhere else. But did you see her dress?”

“Oh, indeed. I do hope she doesn’t bend over or everyone will be getting an eyeful of her!” The woman snickered.

“I’m quite sure Anton would. She’s been stuck to him like a prickleburr all day, the hussy.” One of the other women chimed in and huffed at Mam’s behavior.

“Well, we’re moving on in two days. Even if she somehow manages to attach herself to him, we’ll be gone soon enough.” The women moved down the street in their mass of dresses and hats.

Ksenia followed them slowly, trying hard to look like she was just dawdling on the street in hopes of catching more snippets of conversation.

“You know his family is putting pressure-”

“-expect an heir-”

“-the family house in North Fellsgard, where-”

“No! The chambermaid? What was-”

“-trying to find a bride in the Lineage, you know.”

“-not a craftsman in that village whose daughters weren’t-”

“Even if he is a rake, that house-”

“-even his younger brother is-”

“Good luck to them, trying to push him-”

One of the women stopped momentarily and looked at Ksenia. Ksenia quickly made a show of looking at the buildings like she was lost and trying to find her way. Satisfied, the woman caught up to her friends and walked on.

It wasn’t safe to follow them any longer, but she could tell Mam what she’d heard that night. She headed back to the Heartbroken Socks Inn and slipped in the door. It was fairly quiet for an inn bar during the day, which was to say, not at all. The barkeep was watching the patrons and the levels in their glasses, which left Ksenia free to sidle up to the ghostly woman at the front desk. “Excuse me, do you have any books I might borrow?” Ksenia said, speaking up to make sure she was heard over the edge of the wooden furniture that was nearly as tall as her.

“There’s some shelves over there, dear,” the ghost gestured behind and to her right. “Don’t take them out of the building though.” Ksenia nodded, smiling, and began to peruse the books on the shelves. “Manse of the Spirits...The Tiny Duke....A Jungle Untrammeled...Noon in a Summer’s Grove...The Littlest Idol...A History of Eidolons...Ahm’Kela’s Monks: Guide to Verdant Row…” She skimmed her fingers along the spines as she whispered their titles to herself. She pulled down a volume labeled “Esyrax’s Tales” and tucked it under her arm.

“May I sit over there and read a bit?” Ksenia gestured to a bench more toward the tavern side that had better light. It would be comfy enough for an hour or two, before she’d need to go back to the tent and start a fire in case Mam came back.

“As long as you don’t leave.” The ghost turned its back on her (though Ksenia smiled to herself as she realized how transparent the ghost was) and busied herself with paperwork. Ksenia hopped up on the bench, opened the book, and began to read.

Some of the words she had to guess at their meanings and sound them out; the book had been written for adults more than children. A few times, she had to squint and hold the book closer to the light where the print had smudged in Verdant Row’s humidity. The stories, though - a majestic bear overcoming obstacles (through means that sometimes seemed magical); a soaring eagle that raced through the air, surmounting anything that came between him and his target.

Ksenia read longer than she intended. The sun had started to set before she realized how late it had gotten. Bhelest’s Balls, she thought, I hope Mam’s running late! She smiled at the front desk ghost and replaced her book, then headed for the outskirts of town as fast as she dared.

***

Mam was not running late. She was waiting on the log next to their tent, arms folded, as Ksenia came running into their little camp. “You’re late.”

Ksenia’s chest heaved as she tried to slow her breathing. “Sorry, Mam, I didn’t mean to-”

“It doesn’t matter if you meant to, what matters is what you did.” Mam stood up, uncrossing her arms. “All that I ask of you is to help me so that I can make sure we have somewhere to stay and food in our stomachs. And now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it to the dinner on time because I have to take care of this.” She gestured around her.

“What is it Ksenia? Is what I do for you not good enough?” Mam glared at Ksenia. “You know there’s orphan children starving in the slums of Fellsgard; is that what you want? To not have a Mam to take care of you?” She stepped toward Ksenia, advancing with a slow, measured pace. “Do you want to be hungry and alone, without a friend in the world? Is that what you want?”

Ksenia gulped slightly and shook her head. Mam towered over her, hands on hips. “N-no Mam. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it.” Ksenia started forward, but Mam held out her hand.

“No, what’s done is done.” Mam went over to the fire and began to laboriously rebuild it. Ksenia tried to hand her pieces of kindling, but Mam refused to take them. Not knowing what to do, Ksenia made a pile of kindling and tinder near the fire in easy reach of Mam. She turned to their tent and adjusted the stakes, then dug in Mam’s pack to get her evening dress. Shaking out the dress, Ksenia saw Mam still working on the fire, steadfastly refusing to use anything Ksenia had touched. Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to roll down her face, but Ksenia wiped them away surreptitiously. Mam hated it when she cried; said she was an ugly mess and that good girls didn’t cry.

Once Mam finally finished with the fire, Ksenia approached her slowly with the dress. Mam took it from her without a word. Handing the now-dirty day dress to Ksenia, Mam sat on the log. She tilted her head with a jerk, motioning Ksenia over. Dutifully, Ksenia came with brush and comb to brush the tangles out of Mam’s hair, and then worked to style it for her dinner. Ksenia had started to get better with braids and the updos Mam had insisted she learn to do; they almost always stayed put now.

Mam left for town without a word to Ksenia since she had rebuilt the fire. Ksenia sat on the log, feeling a quiver of fear in her gut. Mam had always come back before, but what if this was the time she didn’t, as she sometimes threatened? Ksenia swallowed hard. Fishing in her pack for soap, she took Mam’s dress to the nearby river and worked on the stains from Mam’s knees being in the dirt. It took her a while; it was almost twilight before the dirt was gone. Ksenia stood up, back aching from leaning over, and headed back to camp. She’d have to hurry back to get water.

Once their camp was set up, Ksenia decided to see if one of the taverns was feeling generous. She started on the road to town, but once close, circled to the back side. She didn’t know where Mam would be, but she’d need to avoid it if she saw her. Mam didn’t want people seeing Ksenia with her, or in close proximity, if possible. The first tavern looked busy enough; Ksenia found the back door and knocked.

“What d’you want?” a large woman asked, sticking her head out of the door.

“Excuse me, do you have any leftover food?” Ksenia tried to make her eyes as big as possible and clasped her hands together pleadingly.

“Don’t give to beggars,” the woman said and started to close the door.

“Wait!” Ksenia cried. “I can trade. Maybe I could mend something for you?”

The woman shook her head and closed the door. Ksenia sighed. At least there was more than one tavern here. She moved on to the next and had better luck; the cook gave her a plate of uneaten bits from patrons’ meals. The few chunks of meat disappeared as Ksenia gobbled them up. More than once she’d had food be taken from her before she had finished, and she’d learned to eat the best parts first, just in case. There were a few carrots and other vegetables that had been in a stew, leaving their juice behind. Ksenia wiped the plate with the half-eaten bread slice that the cook had given her.

This cook had been generous; Ksenia decided to come by tomorrow and see if she could trade some mending for scraps of food. Maybe the cook would agree to the barter. She hoped so. Mam usually couldn’t bring any food back to Ksenia - “Where would I put it? And I’d look low-class, doing such a thing” she’d said, when Ksenia had asked once. She opened the door to the kitchen - busy - and slipped her plate on to a nearby counter.

Heading back to camp with a fairly full belly, Ksenia thought about her plan for tomorrow. The idea of a regular meal - at least, while they were here, was cheering. In camp, she stirred the fire and sat on the log. She’d heard the tales of spirits rising from nature, appearing in the woods. Maybe she’d see one.

Yawning, Ksenia stood up. Mam didn't like coming back to Ksenia sleeping. Taking a quick walk to the river might wake her up. Heading down the trail, Ksenia saw the old forest trees, gnarled by years of wear. Scattered between trees were a variety of bushes; Ksenia hadn't seen any berry bushes, but she'd found a number of thorns. She found a rock near the water's edge and sat. The moonlight glinted off of the water, and a ripple that might have been a fish shook the surface. Ksenia drew in a breath, enjoying the peacefulness.

Out of the corner of her eye, a wispy shape moved. She turned her head. A vaguely animal-like shape was rising from the ground. It wriggled into the air and bounded away. Several yards away, Ksenia saw another pop up and sail about on the winds. Maybe spirits danced, she thought. Maybe they hadn't realized they weren't alive? Or maybe they were enjoying being spirits, so light they could dance in the wind?

***

Mam hadn’t come home that night, Ksenia realized. After she’d sat down by the river a while, she came back to camp and sat in the open tent, wrapped in their blanket, while she watched for Mam. Apparently she’d fallen asleep at one point, since she’d woken up laying down.

This was a good thing, she decided. Mam had probably stayed with whatever man she’d been chasing; maybe he’d be taken enough with her to give her some jewelry, or even bring them back to his house. Mam had managed that a few times in Fellsgard. She’d tell the man that Ksenia was her maid, an orphan she’d taken in as a favor to a dying friend. Then Ksenia would be able to come along and stay in the house. She’d take her meals with servants, of course, but still, the food was usually decent. She could stay with Mam, and it would go well...for a few months.

Well, there wasn’t any use thinking about it until she knew what was going on. Ksenia made herself a mug of tea with yesterday’s tea bag and washed up for the day. She shook out her clothes as best she could. It was still early; she’d work on her embroidery for a bit and then see if she could make a deal with the kind cook from last night. Maybe she’d even be able to go read more.

*

The cook was willing to barter. In exchange for mending the rents in the kitchen staff’s aprons, Ksenia would get a plate of food for every two aprons she fixed. A fair deal, Ksenia thought, as she took the first two aprons to a sunnier spot to work on them. There was a square not far away, and she sat on a bench there so she could watch the comings and goings as she plied her needle.

The pack of women roaming the square sounded like some of the same from yesterday, but Ksenia wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying. Whatever they were talking about made the women unhappy though; their tones were much sharper and angrier. Ksenia kept her head down and tried to look absorbed in her work.

The group passed by her, and Ksenia tilted her head to watch them. It was a mistake. One of the women looked back at her and recognition flitted over her face followed by anger. “You!” the woman said, stomping over to Ksenia. "You’re that whore’s child! No, no, look at you, you’re practically the spitting image of her - don’t try to deny it!” Her friends came over and crowded around Ksenia.

Ksenia licked her lips nervously. “I’m not sure-”

“Liar!” One of the women spat at her, hands on her hips. “Get out of here. You’re not fit to be here!”

“Whore’s bastard!” said another woman, the venom in her voice clear. “Leave!”

Ksenia gulped, balled the aprons in one hand and ran. They followed her to the edge of the square, but she heard them congratulating themselves on doing a good deed for another couple of blocks. Without any other idea she headed back to camp. She could finish the aprons there, and hopefully avoid the women when she turned them in.

*

The cook had been impressed by the speed that Ksenia had finished the aprons. Her mends would hold, and although perhaps not the neatest stitching, would be serviceable. The cook handed her a plate of meat and vegetables with a whole roll and a slice of bread on it. Ksenia looked up at her; it was more than she’d expected. “Think of it as a tip, dearie,” the cook said, smiling as she closed the back door. Ksenia tucked the roll away in her pocket for later, though it made a lump on her hip. After eating, she knocked on the back door and handed the plate back. “Did you want to take some more aprons to work on?”

“May I come by in a little while? I have some errands to run first,” Ksenia replied. She wasn’t telling the whole truth. She wanted to read more stories.

“That’s fine. I’ll hang them on the back door here. Just open it and get them,” the cook told her. “Be good now.”

Ksenia headed over to the inn she’d visited yesterday. She’d got close when she heard the sound of children playing so she changed her path to head that way. The children had scratched a diagram in the dirt and were hopping from spot to spot after they had tossed a stone at the scratches. One little girl hopped as two boys and another girl watched. “Hello,” Ksenia said, coming up to them. “What are you playing?”

One of the boys started to say something when the standing girl shushed him. “Mama said not to play with her. She’s the whore’s child!” She glared at Ksenia as though Ksenia had just destroyed their game.

The boy’s face darkened. “Get outta here!” he yelled. The other boy had his marker stone in his hand, and he heaved it at Ksenia. She tried to dodge it, but it hit her shoulder. The first boy lobbed his rock at her too. It missed her, but it landed with a loud splat in a nearby mud puddle and threw dirt on her skirt.

“Yeah! You go, dirty girl!” screamed the little girl. She balled her fists and stamped at the ground.

“I-I’m sorry…” Ksenia backed away as the boys stooped to pick up more stones. Another sailed by her face and she turned and ran. She heard the pounding of their feet as they gave chase down the road. A rock found its mark and hit her in the back; she stumbled and kept running.

The children finally left her alone when she was past the town proper. She rubbed her shoulder. It hurt, and it felt like there’d probably be a bruise by tomorrow. She sniffled, tears creeping down her face.

Ksenia wiped her face with the underside of her skirt. She’d sneak around the outskirts and get the aprons, then have them done in time for dinner. The children had been closer to the center of the town; she should be able to make it.

*

Her plan worked, and she had another dinner courtesy of the cook. The woman had looked at her strangely when Ksenia had brought back the next two aprons, but said nothing as she exchanged them for the plate. Ksenia tucked the bread away again, though the roll from before had crumbled and gotten crumbs all inside her pocket. You never knew when a source might dry up, she mused. The food was tasty as usual, though a little smaller than the previous portion.

Ksenia tried to open the door but it was locked. Strange, she thought. She knocked on the door; no answer. Shrugging, she left the plate just to the side of the door where it would be seen. Mam probably wouldn’t be back tonight; she tended to stay with a man once she’d been in his bed. Ksenia headed back to the campsite for a quiet, restful night.

***

Ksenia had slept late, and it was mid-morning before she ventured near town. She snuck around to the door of the helpful cook’s kitchen and knocked. She waited for several minutes before the door opened a crack and a hand waved her over. “Sorry,” the woman said, with a sad frown. “My employer says I can’t give out food, not to you. Seems there’s some bad blood involving a woman they say is your mother.”

Ksenia felt her heart sank and nodded. This happened. She’d hoped to get another meal, but it seemed public opinion was against her. “I think it’s codswallop. You cannot help who your mother might be.” Surreptitiously she handed Ksenia a roll with a bit of meat and cheese stuffed inside. “That’s the last I can do. May Cecilia’s light be with you.” The cook shut the door tightly.

Sighing, Ksenia decided to head back to camp. There wasn’t any point in hanging around town; someone would be sure to chase her off. The roll was warm and tasty, at least, and she ate it slowly as she walked.

Not long after she’d got back to the camp, Mam appeared. “Pack your things and quickly, Ksenia! We need to be ready to leave in less than an hour.” Ksenia didn’t bother questioning why. There were only two answers: they were traveling with the man, or getting kicked out of town. She spread out the campfire and began to strike the tent. “We’re going to Anton’s house in the country. He’s got a whole estate there; horses and gardens and all sorts of nice things. Maybe you can even learn to ride - you said you liked horses!” Mam gushed, as she stuffed her clean dress into her pack.

Ksenia made sure she’d grabbed all the stakes and rope as she slid everything in her pack. She did like horses, and maybe this man would turn out to be nice. She smiled at Mam. “He sounds very kind.”

“He is! Oh, by the way, I told him you were my poor dead cousin’s little girl, so be careful. If we can make this work, we can finally have the life we were meant to.” Mam’s eyes were shining and her smile lit up her whole face. Ksenia circled around the little camp.

“That’s everything. Are you ready, Ma- er, madam?” Ksenia said. Mam took her hand and walked her back toward town. Maybe Mam’s optimism would pay off this time, she thought, as a fine carriage came into view.
Word count: 5712
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Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
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Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age seven ~ A.O.N. 275, Winter - North Fellsgard, Tviyr

“Now wrap your thread around your needle and hold it just so. Pull it tight,” said Mary-Alice. Ksenia nodded and did her best to copy the motion. Her first attempt failed, but her second swirled into the neat round knot she was attempting. She looked up at Mary-Alice and smiled. “Good. Practice that fifteen times on this old scrap, child. I’ll be back after a while.” Ksenia sat on a stool at the far corner of the kitchen, swinging her feet as she tried the new stitch. She made neat little rows of them in a small rectangle.

Mary-Alice came back, face flushed from overseeing the laundresses. “See, Mary-Alice! I did it!” Ksenia held out her work proudly. “I couldn’t do it last year, when Mam showed me it, but I got it!”

Mary Alice shushed her hurriedly. “I know you’re excited, and you should be proud. Your madam-” she stressed the word - “wants it quiet right now.” She stopped and gave the child a smile. “It’s a difficult stitch though. You’ve done a good job.”

“Yay!” Ksenia whispered. Mary-Alice chuckled. “What’s next?”

“How about...this one.” Mary-Alice pulled her huswife’s-pocket out and pointed to a set of flowing v-shaped stitches. “It’s called feather stitch. You come up here…”
Word count: 228
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Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age three ~ A.O.N. 271, Winter - North Fellsgard, Tviyr

There was a big house, a red door. A blue blanket by a warm fire. Shouting.

“You have the audacity to show your face in this house? Four full years gone and no word, Inessa! And to come back with a bastard child - not even a full human child, but half elf!”

Loud noises. Doors slamming. Raised voices.

“Don’t ever darken my door again, Inessa. I will have your name struck off the will and the family registry tomorrow!”

“But Father! I could...let her go…”

“Then you’re an even more disgusting specimen of a daughter than even I feared.”

“Dear-”

“You brought that child into this world and you will take care of her until she is old enough.”

“But how am I supposed to find someone rich to marry?!”


Crying. Shrieking. Being tugged by the arm down stone steps, running to keep up with Mam’s steps.

“I’ll show him. I’ll marry a man even richer than him and make him bow to me one day!”
Word count: 183
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Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age eleven ~ A.O.N. 279, Fall - South Fellsgard, Tviyr

Ksenia sat by the window, watching the raindrops chase each other down the glass. Mam had said, once, that her birthday was the thirteenth day of the ninth month. Kaxitaki’s unlucky thirteen, she’d called it. Ksenia huffed on the glass until it fogged over, then drew a circle with eleven small dashes on top. “Make a wish,” she said to herself, and pretended she was blowing out candles.

A door slammed upstairs. Mam’s voice raised. “If that’s how you feel, then fine!”

“Wait one minute, by Iodrah’s counts!” a male voice shouted. Ksenia heard a door open, then squeak shut again. More shouting, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She’d heard this tone from Mam before.

Sighing, she hopped from her seat and headed to her usual sleeping spot. It was time to pack again. Folding her clothes, she stuck them in her pack on top of their camping supplies and waited for Mam to call. She knew she never would know if the cook made her the cake that she’d been hinting about.
Word count: 195
User avatar
Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age five ~ A.O.N. 274, Summer - South-East of Fellsgard, Tviyr

“Come here, Ksenia,” called Mam. It was a sunny day, and fluffy clouds floated on their blue bed of sky. Ksenia picked the flower she had run over to and took it to Mam. “Very pretty,” she said, and pulled the flower out of Ksenia’s hand to set it on the ground. Ksenia frowned; didn't Mam want her pretty flower? “Look at this.”

Mam held a board that had a bunch of different shapes. Some were pointy, others were squiggly, and some were round and fat. She touched the fattest one and giggled. “We’re starting here,” Mam said, taking Ksenia’s hand in hers and folding over all but one finger. “This is A.” She held Ksenia’s hand, making her finger trace the shape of the A. “A is what starts the word apple, and all, and Andre.”

“Like Mam’s special friend Andre?”

“Yes. Like his name.”

Ksenia traced the shape again. A. “A for apple and Andre.” She giggled and looked up at her mother.

Mam nodded. “This one is B…”
Word count: 187
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Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age eight ~ A.O.N. 277, Spring - West Fellsgard, Tviyr

“You need to be a lady, Ksenia.” Mam sat at the breakfast table. Ksenia was toying with a scrap of eggs on her fork. Francis had left earlier that day, despite the spring rain - on business, he’d said, for nothing less important could keep him from a charming lady. “Francis has remarked to me how lazy and sloppy you’ve been. He said your behavior is making him want to stay away until you’re abed.”

Ksenia put down her fork and felt the constriction of fear slide its way down her throat. “What would you like me to do, Mam?”

“For starters, sit up straight. By Cecilia’s sake, you mustn’t hunch over like that. Shoulders back. Don’t open your legs like a hussy; keep your knees together.” Ksenia tried, but apparently too much. Mam slammed her hand on the table. “Don’t be stupid, Ksenia!” Ksenia relaxed for a second, then tried again, not quite as exaggerated.

"Is that-"

"Don't talk so much!" Mam slid a sharp look at Ksenia. She tried not to hunch back into the chair and succeeded in only dropping her head a bit. "Keep your silverware quiet. Be sure to address Francis as His Lordship." Ksenia nodded. She'd want to write all this down somewhere, to memorize it. If she could do that and learn to 'be a lady', surely Mam would be happy with her.

“And do not call me Mam around other people like you're a child. It sounds unintelligent.” Mam sniffed and looked away. Ksenia tried not to gape at her.

“Yes...madam.”
Word count: 277
User avatar
Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age seventeen ~ A.O.N. 286, Spring - East Fellsgard, Tviyr

Snow fell from the sky, making Fellsgard more grey than its stonework usually did. Ksenia shivered in her old cloak. It was getting a bit short; the length had been fine when she’d been fourteen, but she’d grown since then. The East district was quiet. Everyone who had a home to go to was in front of their fire, or huddled close with family.

She had neither anymore.

Trudging through the snow that had begun to collect on the ground, Ksenia pointed her steps westward, toward the South district. She walked through the gate separating the two districts and wandered on. The tavern she sometimes saw on her rounds was shut up tight, and she passed it by. Staring up at the sky, she searched for plumes of smoke reaching lazily upward.

“Ey, girlie, you look cold.” A man leaning against the open door of a stable had called out to her. Ksenia shook her head a bit and kept walking. “C’mon, get out of the cold and warm ma bed!”

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” Ksenia said. She would sleep in the cold before she’d tumble with someone for the possibility of staying warm.

“Now did that sound like a question?” The man’s voice was irritable. Keep walking, she thought. She heard the thump of boots behind her and the man grabbed her wrist. “Come on!”

“I said no!” Ksenia turned her wrist out of his grasp and shoved him away. Miraculously, it worked. He stumbled backward and Ksenia ran. She turned down the second alleyway she saw, then took the turns: left, left, right, straight, left.

Panting, she looked behind her. No one. She let out a slow plume of breath and looked up. Smoke. She gave a little half smile and began moving toward the beacon. Finding mending for food or a fire. She could do it. She had done it before. She would do it again.
Word count: 336
User avatar
Ksenia
Character
Craftmistress for Black's at East Hall. Journeyman seamstress for hire
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
18 / 18 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 40c
Race: Human and Kerasoka
Class: Alchemist
Posts: 181
Joined: September 30th, 2019, 3:07 am
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: Ksenia - Patchworked Recollections

Post by Ksenia »

Age fifteen ~ A.O.N. 283, Fall - West Fellsgard, Tviyr

Ksenia took the tray from the table, skirting the guests on her way back to the kitchen. Her mother was holding a party with her most recent lover, Raoul. Mam and Ksenia had stuck with their usual story that Ksenia was a relative’s daughter, orphaned, but Raoul seemed suspicious.
Ksenia stayed with the servants and didn’t interfere with their relationship, so Raoul had mostly let it lie. Lately, though, he’d taken to remarking their every similarity; this morning it was the shape of their hips. Mam had not been pleased.

(TW: sexual assault) To view this content, you must log in.  ]

“Liar.” Mam sat, back ramrod-straight, in the single chair. “How true that old saying is: How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.”

Ksenia opened her mouth, but Mam stopped her. “Go to sleep.” She turned away from Ksenia. “Maybe I’ll feel like talking to you in the morning.” She blew out the candle and dark fell.

Ksenia buried her face in the pillow, trying to stifle the tears that kept coming. She felt someone tugging the blanket on her and a moist hand run over her forehead. Suddenly, she spun into the darkness and fell asleep.

*

Someone was pounding on the door. Ksenia bolted upright, looking around the unfamiliar room, bright with sunlight. “Time t’ get up!” a voice called. Mam wasn’t there. Not in the bed or on the chair. She walked to the door and stuck her head out. The innkeeper was there.

“Is Inessa downstairs?” The innkeeper looked at her puzzled. Ksenia elaborated, “The lady that was with me last night, my mother, is she downstairs?”

“Nobody’s downstairs. What lady are you talking about?” Ksenia stepped back. “Try to get yourself together soon. Need to clear the rooms,” he said, walking down the hallway.

Ksenia blinked. She shut the door and slowly turned to the table. The bag Mam had brought with her sat there, along with a note. She picked up the sheet with a shaking hand. Mam’s handwriting.

“Don’t come back. I don’t have a daughter.”
Word count: 360
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