Odessa sat cross-legged beneath the bright full moon, swaying side to side to the sound of a drumless song. She shared the warmth of a small fire with newfound friends. To her left sat the toothless Timothius, and to her right kneeled the lovely voiced Caprice. Odessa held her rosewood box in her hands and debated whether or not she should share her one of her treasures with Caprice. 

Before she could make up her mind, Caprice tugged on Odessa’s robe and pointed across the fire.

Two mean on horseback approached. One dismounted and began running towards them at a rapid pace. Odessa reached beneath her robe and set her grip on her knife.

“Who goes there?” she called out.

The figure slowed his approach and bowed as he arrived within reach of the firelight. It was Wyck.

“Good eve, fair Odessa.” A strange smile crept upon Wyck’s face as he looked at the others. “And Caprice! How nice to see your lovely face.”

A bright jingle of a laugh escaped from Caprice. “Is that you, Wyck? Hey Timothius! This is that Vaelish scoundrel I told you about.”

Timothius let out a laugh.

“So what brings you to my favorite singing spot, Wyck?” said Caprice.

“Well my dear, we’re on a mission.”

Korbin now stood, bent over and panting, beside Wyck.

“Odessa,” Korbin said between breaths.

She looked at her brother. His eye sockets were dark and his expression bleak. Korbin had always looked a little too serious, but on that night his face bore a whole new shade of dire.

“What is it?”

“Just come along home. And quickly.”

#

The House of Ardon was shrouded in silence that night. Her mother’s fever had risen from a dull, throbbing sweat into a simmering, hostile fire over the course of an hour. Daegan stood over her, awaiting each breathless word that her lips managed to release. Very few were heard, despite her family’s best attempts.

Odessa watched from the corner. After three hours passed with nary a whisper, she slammed the back of her fist against the wall.

“Can the doctors do nothing?”

“They have gotten her this far, my child. This last battle is hers to face alone.”

The deep vibrato of her father’s voice comforted Odessa, if only for a moment.

“What if we paid them more?” asked Korbin. “I haven’t touched my inheritance yet, we could-“

“No. Gold is not a cure for all things, and certainly not for this. Now both of you come here and hold your mother’s hands.”

In the still of the night, Eva took her last breath. After waiting for what seemed an eternity, Daegan placed his ear to her breast and listened. He then collapsed to the ground, weeping. Korbin pulled a blanket over his mother’s face, then knelt down and embraced his father.

Odessa began to back away. The sight of her father and brother crying was almost worse than the sight of her mother’s face becoming so very still. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t speak. And she couldn’t stand to look at her mother’s face again. So, without a word, she left.

#

Staring at the majestic stars above, Odessa let her mind roam free. She found herself tucking the small rosewood box into her pocket, empty. Before long her aimless walk began to resemble a dance, at first speeding up, and then growing slow. Slower. Slower still.

The brightest star called her forth, drawing a line from its core down to her neck, then wrapping around her skin with a warm embrace. It felt red and gold, dark and light, like the essence of a fire. Yet it did not burn.

Like a hooked fish, Odessa was pulled further, further out, until she found the skin of her face pressed against cold stone. A pungent slime of moss and dirt oozed from rock to skin, crawling over and into her flesh. She shivered and shrugged to shake the slime off, but the gesture was useless; it had already fused with her body. She was now a mud woman, like the stories of ancient Earthfolk, immortal and dominant over all men. She let out a laugh that echoed straight back, driving in through her ears and bouncing loudly within the confines of her skull.

She heard a whistle, then snap! A cat beast was near, watching her breathless and waiting to pounce.

“Be gone, fair cat.” She forcefully bellowed, only instead of her voice, came out a meow.

The mice she must chase; she knew this now. But, oh, how to find them in this pitch black of night? She knelt low and sniffed…Damp earth and rock, branches of cypress, a faint trace of smoke, then – aha! – the enticing aroma of cream bread, lulling, yeasty, and warm. She followed its beckoning, on paws and knees, searching for the bait that would ensnare her first mouse.

Splash!

A puddle sprung up, rising higher and wider, until all but her face became wet. Her black cat fur fell out, one clump at a time. Odessa hissed and clawed at her skin, cursing the evil dark waters. She could hear it laughing at her, giggling, rippling, and mocking, as she struggled through her molt. With great care she placed her arms next to its grin and bared her new face down upon his.

“I know what you are.”

There it was. The truth had been spoken. Overjoyed by its power, Odessa began to weep. Drip. Drip. Drip. Wait. Drip splash drip. Drip splash drip. A steady new rhythm began to beat through her bones. The earth was calling her, calling her back. Into the water she plunged her small hand, grasping and stirring the dirt. Mud was her way, mud was her face; mud, with its gritty, filmy, dull resolve.

Odessa ran, away from the shadows, away from the footsteps and horses and stars. To earth she must flee, she thought between silence. To earth as her home, as her body, as her kind. To earth.

#

Odessa woke curled beneath an olive tree, covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and wine. She was nearly two miles from the Citadel’s Southern gate, and only a few feet from the edge of the cliff. As she peeled her eyes open, the morning sun poured into her retinas, searing them with unbearable pain. Instinctively, she squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her hair over them for good measure. Slowly, she attempted to peak at the day once again. With a groan she stood up, moving as stiffly as a crone.

“You alright?”

Odessa blinked a few times as a boy around the age of thirteen came into view.

“I’m not great.” She gave a short laugh. “But I’ll be fine.”

She pulled her hair off her face and squinted at the boy. “Say, you don’t by chance have some water, do you?”

“Just this.” He handed her a small canteen, which she grabbed and eagerly drank down.

“Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Odessa looked down at her twisted robes and pulled them back into place. “You got a name, kid?”

The boy nodded. “Cyrus.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Cyrus. Now, help a lady out and tell me where I can find a horse.”

“What, ‘round here?”

“Yeah, any horses ‘round here?”

He shrugged. “Don’t think so. People ‘round here usually just walk from place to place.”

“Great. I guess I’ll have to just walk too then.”

“Sure.”

Odessa began to limp alongside the Citadel wall, twisting a bit to the left as her joints settled into place. Not far behind her, Cyrus was walking along the wall too.

“You following me, Cyrus?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s that?”

“Not sure.”

Odessa stopped and turned to face him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

The boy shrugged.

Odessa shook her head and continued on. “Well, hurry up then. If you’re gonna walk with me you might as well be at my side.”

Cyrus skipped forward and matched Odessa’s pace.

She looked down at him. “What’s that grin for?”

“Never walked with a Lady before.”

“Isn’t your mother a lady?”

“Nah, she’s just a seamstress.”

“Seamstresses are ladies too, Cyrus.”

“Nah, don’t think so.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re funny, kid?”

“Sure.”

Odessa smiled to herself. They continued on for the next half-mile in silence.

“Um, Lady? What’s your name? – If you don’t mind me askin’.”

“Odessa. Odessa of the House of Ardon.”

Cyrus stopped in his tracks. “Wow! You really are a Lady!”

“Yeah. That’s what they tell me.”

“So what were you doin’ out here, lying in the dirt like that?”

Odessa’s eyes dulled. “I had a bad night.”

“Huh. I’ve had some pretty bad nights myself, but I never wound up in the state you were in. No offense, I mean.”

“Give life a chance, kid. It’ll give you a reason to wake up in the bushes soon enough.”

“Not anytime soon, I hope.”

Odessa squinted at the sun, which continued to bear down from above. “Mind if we stop to eat?”

“Can’t. Don’t got any money today.”

“My treat then, just lead me in the right direction.”

Cyrus led her through the theatre district to a pub that served turkey stew. After wiping the last drop of broth from her bowl with a chunk of dark bread, Odessa studied the boy as he ate. He chewed quickly but made a point of closing his eyes and smiling at the beginning of every bite. Once he was finished, she placed a gold coin on the table and pushed it towards him.

“You’re a good kid, Cyrus. Go home and spend some time with your mother.”

Cyrus took the coin and held it in front of his face. After glancing around the pub a few times, he wrapped it up and put it in his pocket.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, Lady Odessa!” He stood up and bowed. “You’re the nicest, most beautiful Lady I’ve ever met!” He grinned at her and turned away, tripping over his feet as he went.

Once the boy was out of sight, Odessa sighed and turned to the barkeep. “Give me something strong, would ya? And tell me a story. I could really use a distraction.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 5: The Wheel Ever Turns