Chapter 1: The Outback

I stood on the side of the street with my shoes muddy from running. My chest rose under my stained shirt with heavy breaths. It took me a moment before I take unstable steps leading to the familiar establishment.

Before I could reach the door, a middle-aged lady stepped out of the pub. Once she caught sight of me, she gripped her skirt and rushed in my direction.

"Goodness, Anna. You can't barge inside," the wife of the pub owner exclaimed. "Your father won't want to see you here. You know his temper when drunk."

But what she said wasn't enough to change my mind. I was aware of it. It didn't matter whether the beating takes place in private or in front of other people. The pain from his blows will eventually subside, but I can no longer save the money he took from me.

The lady tried to pull my arms to prevent me for the last time before I pushed open the door of the pub with my trembling hands. Noise and laughter streamed from the dimly lit establishment to the dusky street in the early evening.

I had to hold my breath for a moment to avoid the stink of the liquor and cigarette from reaching my throat. The yellowish fading bulbs from the ceiling barely light up the dingy place. Silver threads of spider webs served as unwanted decorations in every corner. But patrons of the pub had no complaints when the place was already considered decent in this part of town.

"Well, looks like someone got a good racket."

Roaring erupted from the center of the pub where six burly men were seated around a table filled with overflowing mugs of liquor and platters of food. My eyes instantly narrowed at the sight of father sitting with them.

"Come on now, stop jabbering and drink up!" he bellowed, his voice louder than the rest. "Everything on this table is on me tonight!"

The words sent my ears ringing and my teeth chattering in anger. I couldn't move from the doorway where I can witness how he was spending my money, my hard-earned money, for the people he called friends.

Never had he bought that amount of food for his family even during mother was still around. He never spent his money on us. He only works a few hours a day as a blacksmith with the sole purpose of spending his money in pubs, on drinks, and gambling. He never acted as a father. Since young, I was left to attend on my own and was forced to search errands to have money or else I'd starve to death.

But it was all fine with me. I was used to it. I've survived that way for nineteen years. The beating, the starving, they were no longer new to me. But to see my money being spent shamelessly in front of me, I could no longer turn the other way.

It's been five years since I promised to save enough to leave this godforsaken town. It was the only hope I was holding on to keep my sanity. But when I found out this morning that my stash of money was robbed empty, my hope diminished as well.

I finally walked to the table, determined to get my money back. The rowdy voices speaking over each other faded when they saw me. They knew who I am and what was coming.

"Give my money back," I demanded with a shrill voice. It's a wonder I managed to sound calm when my feet were wobbly feet and my hands trembled.

His rough face shot me a familiar dark glare I used to fear when I was younger. I used to scramble away like a lamb and flee the house until his anger subsides. But I buried that weak child alive. All the years of hardship only made me dauntless.

"Give my money back, you fucking thief!"

A hard arm hit the side of the head with the force of a tree trunk. I stumbled on the dirty floor, lips bleeding and ears ringing from the impact.

"What did you say, you little scum?!"

An uncomfortable silence swept over the pub as I lay helpless on the floor. A few people stood up to leave, muttering under their breaths that the scene just ruined their night. I couldn't blame them. It was something they were fed up to witness. Father was known in this side of town to harbor a bad temper, which can quickly be deadly whenever he was drunk.

I wiped my bleeding lip and forced a smile. "A thief," I repeated.

The men around father's table were visibly shaken by my audacity to reply. One of them motioned for me to stay silent. The other pleaded for me to leave. Yet, like all those times I received blows from my father, no one dared to stop him.

Father pushed me against the floor with his arms against my neck, trapping me in place. "I've raised you so everything you have is mine, you ungrateful child!"

His fist hit the side of my head in a head-splitting blow. My body rattled on the floor which made several patrons gasp. But no one step in between. In this part of town, staying on the sidelines was the best form of survival.

I have always detested it. All I could see were their faces eyeing me on the floor. The corner of my eyes stung with fervid tears. Thick blood oozed from the side of my head to the floor but my glare remained cold as steel.

"That's all mine..." I choked out. "I've worked hard for that money... give it back!"

"You insolent-!"

Father was about to strike with his fists again when the owner came rushing from behind the counter to pull his wide heavy body away from me.

"No fighting in my pub!" he bellowed.

His thunderous voice was enough to make the patrons flinch. They were more afraid of being blacklisted in the place than to witness a crime before their eyes because that means they could no longer find cheap decent liquor in the Outback. And father was aware of it. He stood straighter before he sat back with his friends around the table as if nothing happened.

But I can't give up just yet. I needed that money back. I was about to force myself to stand up when the owner's wife rushed to my side and held my arm.

"Let's get you outside."

She whisked me away while I remained to stare daggers in father's direction. Once the two of us were back on the pitch-dark street, the woman turned to me.

"I told you not to confront your father when he's drunk."

I didn't say anything. Most people didn't know that father was scarier when sober. At least when he's drunk, there's a chance his blows would miss. When sober, he can crack my skull. There was a time he almost did.

I didn't want to leave the place without the money. But I was also aware that my head was badly bleeding and my body was at its limit from working since dawn.

I mumbled a silent thank you to the woman before walking away. The night sky remained moonless and the street was muddy from the afternoon rain. I was surrounded by darkness which veiled this forgotten part of town known as the Outback.

Electricity and things like lampposts don't last in this place. Bulbs were frequently stolen, the wirings were frequently tapped and only a few people can afford to pay for electricity. So when night time arrives, half of the people locked themselves in their houses and the other half roamed the streets.

But the fear of danger lurking in the dark was something I have transcended, especially when people around me can cause more harm.

I managed to reach the old bell tower around midnight. With shallow breaths and wobbly steps, I climbed the narrow staircase with a hand clasping the concrete wall to support my steps and the other wiping the blood from the side of my head. Father surely was one step away from killing me tonight.

I fell on the cold floor upon reaching the top landing. Autumn wind howled through the arches of the belfry. I reached for the thin blanket which remained untouched on the floor from my last stay and leaned against the wall, covering myself with it while trying to control my raspy breathing.

I used to have a place to stay, small as it might seem. But father sold the house registered under my mother's name to fund his gambling and excessive drinking. Since then, I've been searching for every errand I could find in town of Eden with a temporary place to stay. On days when luck wasn't on my side, I would climb the old bell tower and sleep on this floor.

We no longer care about each other's whereabouts. But father knew I'd been saving money for years. And when I saw him hanging around this part of the Outback three days ago, I should have known what was coming.

With my head pulsing, I ripped a corner of the blanket and dabbed the rough fabric on my bleeding wound. There's a possibility that father might follow me here but I no longer have enough strength to even lift a finger, much more search for another place to stay.

With the cold wind nipping on my skin, I closed my tired eyes. Two months. I was two months away from leaving this place. Once I reached the age of twenty, I can settle in other towns and have the chance to restart my life. I've been saving for the day I can leave. But I was no longer sure if I can even stay alive for two months.

Lifting my eyelids, I watched beyond the tower ledge to the other side of town, far from the Outback blanketed by darkness. Hundreds of golden lights glimmering from the mountains and the valley beyond. People who live in those houses and mansions will never know how lucky they are to have a warm place to stay tonight.

I gazed at a specific area with the most concentration of golden lights. It was what attracted me the most when I first witness this view. The warm lights and pointy towers of a castle sparkling in the dark, perched on a mountainside protected by vast woods. I could almost feel how warm it was inside those sturdy walls, how bright it looked even on dark winter nights.

They say it was a school, an academy that teaches alchemic magic. I remember what mother used to tell me when I was younger, that the people who can use magic are referred to as the blessed. They have something others can only dream of.

I used to be aware of it. Magic usually manifests in a child around seven years old to preteen. Once it was traced, the academy would offer scholarships for the child to learn alchemic magic. Such skill was highly valued in this world. It can guarantee, not only the children but their family's future.

It can happen to anyone. They were parents who prepare their children early, giving them basic training, feeding them well, and educating them. Some parents went as far as pray in different temples and churches, visit fortune tellers, and undergo luck rituals to ensure their child's acceptance.

But very few were accepted every year. I'm almost twenty and I no longer aspire to be one of the blessed. The academy was nothing but a lullaby every time I had to sleep in the bell tower. But every time I watched the castle's golden lights, I can't help but wonder how warm it was inside.

--

The darkness that blanketed the Outback faded into another cloudy morning. I had a hard time waking up with my body stiff and swollen. The bleeding wound on my head didn't dry down but proper treatment was not an option for me. I would rather die than suffer debt my entire life.

With heavy steps, I climbed down the bell tower and went straight to the well at the back of the moss-covered walls. The place used to be a church before it was burnt to the ground years ago. Now the old ruins were home to rodents and small wild animals.

There were days when the place stunk, especially in the morning. I usually find a dead animal around the premises. But dead animals no longer falter me, and so does a dead man. Sights like these were far too common in the Outback. It's the living that causes harm.

After washing my face with fresh water from the well, I cleaned my wound after failing to do a proper job last night in such a pitch-black place. I wrapped the piece of fabric around my head and managed to hide the bloody part behind my hair. It was the only reason why I couldn't cut my hair short even if I treated it as a nuisance when doing arduous jobs, especially during summer seasons.

They say I have a striking resemblance with my mother who used to be one of the most beautiful faces in the Outback. Long dark wavy hair, heart shape face, and striking almond shape eyes. But the last thing on my mind was my appearance and these features were better hidden behind dirty clothes, bruises, and unkempt hair.

I waited for noon to arrive before I left the tower. Father was at the blacksmith at this time of the day. It was my only chance to head to his place. There's no way he would spend the entire money in the pub. He must have left something for gambling. The low probability was a risk I was desperate to take.

But still, I needed to remain vigilant. If he catches me this time, he would surely kill me. I just knew. He's a proud man who would rather kill someone than being shamed in front of people.

I walked through the familiar street where people hang around on the pavement, most of them succumbed to different realities, smiling with blank faces while their heads were high in the clouds. Kids run around, fighting over leftover food from the dumpster of nearby decent neighborhoods.

I finally reached the old apartment with the slippery front steps and peeling paint. With hurried steps, I climbed down the outer staircase leading to the hold-in-the-wall basement room that father rented after selling the house.

The room had a rickety door with a broken lock which I had discovered when I sneaked into the place for the first time a few months ago. With a twist of the knob and a light kick of my foot, the door creaked open revealing a barren dark room wafting with an undesirable smell. Natural light barely reached the room even during midday and the heap of clothes and rotten food on the sink were covered in molds. Only father can stomach this state of living.

Without wasting a second, I began pulling drawers and opening cabinets, checking everything I can put my hands on. Clothes, toolboxes, piles of newspapers, and even trash and empty liquor bottles on the floor. My moves were swift yet deliberate, making sure I leave little to no changes while I rummage the place.

But as minutes passed by, my movements became slower and more unstable due to the wound pulsing on my head. I had to stop now and then to check on the blood-soaked fabric. I used to buy ointment or medicines to treat my wound. But I was robbed empty and if I can't find anything in this place, I would probably die before the night ends. Somehow, the idea was both unnerving and consoling. To die wasn't so bad.

The fabric on my head can no longer hold the blood. While hunched down to check under the gray sweat-stained couch, a drop of blood dripped from the side of my head to the floor. Shit. I pulled the hem of my shirt away from my body to wipe the floor. I couldn't leave any trace that I'd been here.

I was starting to lose hope. The room had nothing but filth inside. Black patches started to cover my vision. I was in the middle of debating if I had to stay longer or leave when my eyes darted in the direction of the closed door. Noises were coming from the outside steps. Has father arrived?

Sweat run through the lines of my inner palms followed by a series of curses in my head. I instantly turned in the direction of the knife on the sink. I can't suffer another blow. My body can no longer take it. With cold hands, I reached for the knife with my gaze not leaving the door. But can I do it?

The loud knock was something I didn't expect to hear. The sound made me jump until my back hit the sink. "Is there Anna Lawson here?" someone asked.

Startled, I didn't answer. There seems to be more than one person standing outside the door and their voices were unfamiliar to me. Are they peacekeepers?

"Is there someone inside?" the stranger asked once again.

Another voice followed. "Please step out, Ms. Anna Lawson."

I only stared at the door. How... can someone know I'm here?

"We're from Saoirse Academy."

The statement failed to sink into my anxious head. I blinked back the drop of blood from my eyes, soaking my eyebrows and clamping my thick lashes.

Saoirse Academy...

It took me a moment before I dropped the knife back to the sink. I didn't understand what they were saying to me. Yet, strangers were better to have at the door than father.

I took unstable steps toward the door, but my eyes lost focus and I staggered, head spinning. I held onto the nearby couch before I completely fell on the floor.

Seems like I might die earlier than planned.

With my eyes on the ceiling and my chest raising while trying to breathe, a strange sense of calmness enveloped me. This isn't so bad... never waking up.

The door burst open. I must have been in severe pain that I began hallucinating. With hazy eyes, I watched as two strangers stepped into the room. One of them, a guy in her mid-thirties, sat up in front of me and whispered.

"Ms. Lawson, I'll have you sleep for a while."

The words sounded like enchantment in my ears. The pain slowly subsided from my head and my eyelids started to weigh like rocks, forcing my eyes shut. What's this feeling? It felt weird, like sunlight touching my face, like I was being bathed with it.

Before I completely closed my eyes, something caught my sight. On the dirty floor under me was a strange golden light slowly following the shape of a circle with peculiar writings and symbols. They glimmered in my eyes before everything turned black.

***

Author's Note:

Please be warned that this story contains occasional use of strong language and depiction of violence and death.

Also, how's the first chapter? This format of writing is new to me and I'll appreciate if you can share your opinion to help improve my writing.

Until the next chapter!

Your author,
April