Night has fallen, and my brain itches for one thing, the sweet sensation of a comb through my hair. I can feel the need and want, my reflection in the small mirror of the carriage seeming gaunt against the ndscape outside, seeing myself is the one relief I have on this long and tiresome journey.

  Hours pass of running my fingers through my hair, counting each pass until I run out of learned numbers. I start dividing my hair, strand by strand, observing each meticulously, making sure each strand has no blemishes in colour. The rest of my time is staring at the distance and of course… reading and re-reading the final words of my Guardian, seeing me as a woman. Will she write wistfully in her diary as I do? uhh did. My diary is so far behind me, none of my things being left with me. Does that show that they just wanted me gone? Or that they couldn't find it?

  Will they read the passages or throw it away to keep my privacy? I'm sure my mama read some of it when I was younger, but I got better and better at hiding it once I realise she would do so. Will they speak to some of the parents of the girls that I kissed and wrote about constantly, about how their lips were innocent and sweet, how they moaned, pressed against the barn wall. How they were nothing like my Guardian, how I dearly wanted her and adored her every weekend at scriptures. Made excuses to stay behind and get treated like a child every time but never giving up as I became more and more a woman.

  I hum a tune I know deep in my heart but can't find the words, a tune that speaks of sorrow that I have never faced in my age. Words infiltrate my thoughts from the front of the cabin, “That sounds lovely misses, just thought you’d wanna know, we are coming upon Mer soon enough now, should be seeing the fires soon!” The darkness has encroached on the nd, on the walls near my home soldiers would soon be dying, repced by children again and again, fuelling the machine of sacrifice that is the empire. Those that survive will move to worse and worse locations as they are deemed stronger. The survivors of it all? Maybe they will eventually marry? Become guardians themselves to retire, I know it will not be me, I will die out there on some unknown field, covered in blood, no one and no pce to call home again.

  The sea breeze tickles my nose as we get closer, the salty taste on my tongue makes me think of my mothers salted toffee treats. She always made me a bundle of them on my birthday, I would try and keep them around for as long as I could before they were all gone and I could only think upon the next birthday, for the next gifting. Tears fill my eyes in longing as I realise I never got this year's gifting, I smelled them cooking before I left, she was making them for me. Was I that much of a monster that I was thrown out too quickly for even that? Was it better if I was to not be born with such a blessing?

  “Hail! We come from the vilge of Faul on mission of a Guardian, under the rights of the Merchant guild please allow us safe passage!” The cart driver yells towards the walls that have suddenly appeared in front of us, wooden and tall. They rise up with fires above and below. He yells it as if reading off a passage from a book, practised, said again each time, the life of a merchant.

  “Humph an hour earlier and we wouldn't have to deal with such things! Open the gate!” A gruff voice calls down in condemnation for our time of arrival, as if it was on purpose to ruin their night.

  “Alright miss we're nearly in, we will be checked, can just tell em where yer going and then we can find a pce to rest for the night. I doubt any ships will be off at this time of night so we can find a pce to sleep before you leave tomorrow!” He seems to nod at himself in acknowledgement, used to me not responding by now, more talking to himself than me at this point of our journey.

  As we pull in to the town the carriage is navigated into a side area. I bundle all my parcels together and try my best to slip the Imperial Note in my cleavage trying not to crinkle them too much. Mother always said it was the best pce for a woman to hide money and I feel she is right, although I’ve never had any to hide before.

  A gruff voice sounds from outside my door, “Alright, get out and let's have a look at ya!” I press the outfit towards my breast and open the door, stepping out into the barely lit stone trodden area. I manage to just avoid some nulfur excretion, leaning over, nearly falling. I'm quickly caught by what I can only assume is the hand of the grouchy voice from before.

  “Ahh if I knew such a pretty ss was in there I would have been more polite!” He looks at me lewdly before kissing my hand that he was holding, it almost makes me wretch, the gross feeling of his beard upon my fingers, I make it a point to remember to wash that hand extra hard before rest.

  “Yes. Thank you for your, courtesy.” I lean back and away from the man, much to his dismay. A booing from some of the other gate guards nearly sends the man into a spiral of advancement after me before the Merchant steps forward with a badge in hand, fshing at the guard before he steps back, seeming concerned.

  “That's enough my good man!” The guard huffs and turns around, grabbing a quill and some dour-grass paper to take our details, the hint of red on his cheeks show he had already started drinking, truly a man with the blessing of the guard.

  “Fine fine, Where are ya going?” He huffs at us in annoyance. I curtsy in my gown, and address him directly.

  “To the Grass-Roots Academy for Combat and Training” I say it with as much indignation in my voice as possible, he thinks to himself with what little brain power he can before responding sarcastically.

  “Ohh a big shot~ what kind of blessing scored you that then huh?” He has so much contempt in his voice, is it for me or is it for his boring drink filled waste of a fucking life?!

  “I was blessed to be a Berserker.” I stare directly in his eyes, rage building in my centre of my being for the audacity of this piece of shit drunkard for daring to try to insult me with what the fuck I will have to go through!

  He visibly recoils as the surroundings become quiet, he can see the hatred building in my eyes as I stare at him, before I make a mistake and get sent to the front lines, I open the door to the carriage, rush in and sm the door behind me. My breathing heavy in my chest, my hatred and burning starts to simmer, instead turning into tears and cowardly-self hatred. I DON'T EVEN HAVE MY COMB TO CALM MYSELF! Fuck.

  I hear the turning footfalls of the merchant as moves forewards, seeming to quickly regain himself. “Ahem! Ye heard her! So don’t go making mistakes ye shouldn't! Now then… help us find somewhere to rest for the night and we can be out of yer hair!” I hear grumbles of agreement from outside the carriage, talks of curses and sughter from the other guards, words of fear, words of worry for just having me within their walls.

  We had all heard the stories, we weren't called Camities for nothing. Never upset a Camity, never even talk to them, distance yourself from them, they can’t have friends, they can’t have lovers, they can't even own a house. What's the point when you could just destroy it in all in a fit of unprovoked rage?! Camities were known to be unstable. Is that what I am? Unstable? I’ve never considered myself unstable in my life, I strove for perfection, composure, beauty and grace. Unstable is never a way I could see myself, Is that now all going to change in a blink of the guardians eye?

  Knock Knock “Miss, we can make our way to the local inn if yer okay with it…” I wipe away what tears are left and compose myself, perfection, you are perfection Eta. I open the door gently and step out, dodging the nulfur excretion again and making my way down the stone path together with the Merchant. The guards watch us pass in silence, not wanting to even breathe a word in my direction, the st thing I hear from them is the main guard just before we are out of earshot.

  “What a waste of beauty…” Something I actually agree with the drunkard about.

  I easily spot the Inn in the dark, a torch lighting up the front of the building, shining on the swinging sign above the main doors, a bed easily identifiable on it. Before we enter, the merchant stops me and pulls something out from their pocket, and putting it in my hand. It clinks together, what I can only guess is coins with his hand still over my own, only having seen them but never using them in my vilge, “Take these, leftovers from what the Guardian gave me, hopefully it will help you avoid having to show off those notes. I can help you exchange one of them on the morrow…” In surprise I watch him walking away before I realise what he said, as he is walking towards the Inn I catch up to him with a short jog and pull at his shoulder making him stop, a sigh coming from him, but not in annoyance.

  “Why are you giving me the leftovers? Is this what Betra paid y-” He covers my mouth with his hand quickly, shushing me and looking around to make sure no one was listening, before he releases my mouth in apology when he sees the fear in my eyes.

  “Ju-just, please try not to say her name, she’s more famous than you realise vilge gerl…” He sighs and leans against the outside wall of the inn. “Yes, that's what she paid me, look ye think yer not cut out for being a camity, none of us are cut out for what our blessing is! I wanted to be a priest, help people… then I was blessed as a merchant, someone that should be looking for opportunity, greed and it pushes at me everyday, tempts me, makes me feel things that I would rathe forget! So all I have is me nulfur, me cart and what I have on me because of my bleedin heart, because I refuse the calling!

  I can never forget the people that are happy that I pass through, all the vilges that y basically abandoned by everyone else, even the Empire doesn't care that these pces exist anymore! Only remembering to grab their tithe and ignore any issues… You are going to be you no matter the bsted Blessing! Just as I am going to be me with mine, no matter how much it hurts.

  So you keep onto those coins because the Guardian is the same, I would have done it without the money if she just asked, I would never leave a ss like that, she probably knew I would be giving you this damn money!” He leans back further against the side wall of the Inn after his long rant and puts his hand over his face, mumbling to himself before pushing back up and getting ready to be anywhere but this situation with me.

  “I’m, I’m sorry, thank you. I’m Eta, please can I know your name?” He hesitates and mumbles to himself again in frustration.

  “Dres Asmon, Don't go getting me caught up in yer damn guardian’s wants ya hear! Damn fool she is… but I am too for knowing her.” He starts moving back towards the door of the inn and motions for me to follow him, his gait agitated as he walks.

  I carefully hold onto the coins, examining them quickly before putting them into my cleavage along with the notes, only now gd that my dress went up high enough to hide my breasts, despite my grievances at my mother for it originally not showing enough for my blessing visit with the Guardian. I can only thank her in my heart, even if I may never see her again. I hope I can at least write, and be written back, if they might never want to speak to me again after what my father saw of me.

  The Inn is well lit with some tables and a bar off to the side, only a few patrons are up at this time, Dres requisitions two single rooms from the dy at the front of the bar and starts to pass her some money for our stay, I quickly step in and drop some coins on the wooden table, to his dismay and my delight, he grumbles and sighs then steps back looking humble, but defeated.

  “Thank ya fer yer patronage! Ere’s ya keys! Ya get rooms fur n fiv! If ya want a meal its tree perch for a full course, comes with meat! Enjoy yer stay!” She smiles a nearly toothless smile, I smile back a pristine one and push forward Six Perch, she nods happily and I motion for us to both sit down at one of the tables. He grumbles again and moves to take his seat. I get the urge to comb my hair, bring my hand to my side to pull it out and realise that this dress doesn't have a pocket… and I don’t have my comb, of course I don’t have my comb! I can only sigh wistfully thinking about where its gone.

  It's going to be a long night, but at least I will have a real bed to get through it.