Chapter 2

Parisa awoke to a sharp pain in her side and the screeching of her father telling her to hurry and tend to the horses or there would be no breakfast. The morning air held a chill from the night before, though it had warmed by a few degrees. Parisa could already tell that the warmer months were fast approaching, not that it meant much being in the snowy North of Tandelle. Her small town hardly saw anything beyond freezing.

The blanket she'd been curled under fell away from her body, the frosty air kissing her pale skin. She swung her head left and right, looking for her loose night shirt. The customer from the night before had not been patient enough for Parisa to take it off on her own and had, instead, pulled the shirt from the girl and flung it in some random direction. Parisa had bit her tongue to keep from protesting. It was her only decent piece of clothing. The last thing she wanted was some self-absorbed nobleman ruining it.

The horses snorted and made noise from their respective stalls as they waited for the girl to get ready. She found her shirt and bottoms, though the shirt would need tending to. A large hole was torn on the side. Parisa wrinkled her nose at the sight of it. She knew her mother would not fix it. Something else would have to be figured out. Perhaps one of the nice ladies next door. If she let them touch her hair, maybe they'd be kind enough to assist her. They were always gushing about the silver strands.

Parisa tended to the horses, brushing them down and cleaning out their stalls. As they ate from their large metal basins, she pet a large sable female named Rika. Parisa's father had gotten her cheap from a traveler about five years ago since the horse could not reproduce. Albert didn't care so much for birthing another horse as he did about the possibility of food if a winter became too harsh and food too scarce.

Rika's ears swiveled as she listened to the surrounding sounds. Parisa wondered what it was like, being an animal such as her. She required care entirely from the girl. If she were to stop, the horse probably wouldn't survive past a month. Rika would never get brushed, and she would probably only eat once a day. Parisa's heart trembled within her chest for the poor horse and she hoped she would never be in the same position as her.

- But aren't you, little Parisa?

A melodic voice whispered at the base of her skull. She flinched, dropping the brush on the stable floor. The voice continued.

- Aren't you no different from sweet Rika here? A little fawn scarcely cared for by her parents. You're little more than a moneymaking tool.

Parisa's chest built with a subtle burning at the taunting voice and she clenched her hand into a fist, pulling away from Rika's soft coat. She swooped down, picking up the grooming brush. Her temples were throbbing now, and the voice was gone.

- Hello?

She questioned, probing every corner of her mind. There was no response.

- Have I finally gone mad?

She chuckled and tosses the grooming brush into a worn bin of tools.

- Memories of another world and now ghostly voices taunting me? I must have been a terrible menace in my past life.

Parisa left the stable as a fierce winter wind blew over the snow covered land. Small ice crystals whipped across her skin, reminiscent of minute lashes from one of her father's belts. Her nose itched, and she sneezed. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, the tan shirt offering little protection from the elements.

The stable wasn't so bad, especially when she could burn small sticks and wood in her little furnace, but anything beyond the pinewood walls was dangerous territory. Parisa hurried across the walkway towards her parents' small house. In the distance, she could make out the sounds of a woodpecker in search of its morning meal. The breeze sang a wistful song, and the sky was covered in large, thick layers of clouds blocking out the sun.

She entered the small house and quickly closed the door behind her. Snowflakes that had stuck to her hair and lashes melted instantly. Her small body shuddered as the cold chill of water droplets dampened her clothing. The smell of bread tickled her senses, and she looked towards the kitchen where her parents sat a table nearly done with their food. Parisa's meal sat at her empty seat, two pieces of bread and a glass of water. Her parents feasted on eggs and coffee.

"Have you finished with the horses?" Albert asked when Parisa reached to pull out her chair.

"Yes, father." she said, her voice raspy.

"And did the customer leave satisfied last night?" Lucia asked without looking up from her plate. Parisa nodded once more; she assumed the man had. There hadn't been any complaint uttered when the he'd left. Parisa was the one who was left sore through the night and the next day, not the customer.

Her parents said no more on the matter and remained silent as she pulled out her chair and sat. Almost immediately, she noted the bread on her plate differing from the fresh loaf she'd smelled. This was colder and harder. She could squeeze it and her fingers would barely make a dent. Despite this, her stomach grumbled and accepted it graciously.

She devoured her meal in silence, her thoughts drifting to the dreamless night she'd had. The memories from her past life had been scarce over the past few months. She wasn't sure what to make of them suddenly dropping away when, for most of her life, every night was filled with one new blurry image into the world she'd left behind. Half of her missed the brief escapes into the past and a life that seemed to dote on her. The other half was fine for it to be gone, as it was like rubbing salt in a deep wound. That, and she was terrified that, one day, a memory explaining how she'd ended up in these miserable circumstances with a couple of sad excuses for parents would pop up.

Parisa hadn't been religious when she lived as Su-ho in her previously life. From what she could recall after waking from the dreams, she'd been an atheist despite her parents' practices in Buddhism. Every now and then, she'd humor her friends with a visit to a taro stand at school festivals or while walking around the city, but she laughed most everything off.

Su-ho had been a practical teenager. An intelligent girl with a focus on technicalities and the sciences rather than the mystique.

"Parisa," Lucia said, drawing the girl from her convoluted thoughts. Parisa glanced up at her mother. Were it not for her tight grip, Parisa was sure she'd have dropped the bread she held. Her mother wore a gentle smile that softened the crows feet at the corners of her eyes.

- When was the last time I saw mother's smile?

"Go to your room. I've laid out a fresh outfit for you. Try it on."

This time the bread did fall from her grasp. The plate let out a small *clink* as it connected with the hard loaf. Parisa's body went rigid, and she wasn't quite sure how to react or what to say. Was this a test to see how she'd respond? Her mother had done that to her once before and she'd failed it miserably. The reward for such a failure was a meeting with her father's belt and no food for the night.

When Lucia received no answer, her smile faltered. The woman's dark eyes roamed over Parisa and there was the briefest flicker of love and compassion, but she pulled it back almost as fast as it had appeared. Her nose crinkled, and she sneered.

"Well?"

Parisa pulled herself together at the sight of familiarity. This was the mother she'd grown accustomed over the years. Her muscles loosened and she nodded before standing from the table. She looked between the unfinished stale bread and the back hallway where her old room resided.

"Leave it," her mother said, and Parisa nodded. She gave a slight bow to her mother and rushed off to her old room. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Perhaps this was finally the start of better times. Maybe she'd paid off whatever karma she'd gained from her past life and the great God of Sun and Day, Theor, had blessed her life.

In her old room, laid out on her old bed, were new clothing that almost brought tears to Parisa's eyes. Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the fine material. The shirt was a deep sapphire edged in silver. It had no sleeves but sported a high neck that would hug her body. It would not be the warmest outside in the cold, but Parisa could already tell it would fit comfortably, if not a little on the snug side. The pants were the same color as the silver lining on the long shirt. The material of the cloth was definitely more durable than the coarse clothing she currently wore. She wasted no time changing into the outfit.

Her skin basked in the feel of the soft cotton. She hugged her arms around her body, pressing every inch of the material into her body. Would it be a sin to sleep in it tonight? No, no, she couldn't. These clothes would need to be saved. Cherished. She'd have to make sure they were handled properly in the stable.

- Perhaps I'll be able to leave the stable.

She almost regretted the thought as soon as it floated through her mind. She wished she could reach out invisible hands and shred it to bits. God above, forgive her for such thoughts. Give the girl a little clothing and she goes off the deep end. Parisa couldn't stop the bubble of giddy laughter that escaped past her chapped lips. She wondered how she should thank her mother for such a gift when the bedroom door opened.

Parisa turned. The large smile on her delicate lips fell away all too soon when she realized that her mother was not alone. Two lanky men stood behind her. One with greasy blonde hair stood to the woman's left, the other with a deep auburn stood on Lucia's right. The one on the left whistled when his green-eyed gaze went up and down the girl's body.

"You weren't joking when you said you had a looker. She trained?" The same man asked. His eyes remained on Parisa, the green color reminiscent of the few pines speckled around the landscape outside.

"Yes," Lucia said. Parisa's gaze turned to her mother, but the woman refused to meet her daughter's eyes. "Give me the payment and leave."

The green-eyed man barked an order to the other in a language that Parisa did not understand. She watched as there was the exchange of a medium-sized pouch from him to Lucia. The woman nodded and then turned and left Parisa alone with the two strangers. She was unsure of what to do. She'd never took customers in the day, only at night. The green-eyed man stepped into the room.

"Come on little fairy, it's time to go."

- Go?

There was an underlying darkness in the way the man spoke the words that had Parisa taking a step back. This only seemed to amuse the green-eyed man. He mimicked her steps until she was against the wall and he stood in front of her, barely allowing any space between them.

"Now, now, little fairy. Don't make this harder for us."

The man reached out his hand, and Parisa looked between it and the man that loomed over her. She wanted to smack that greasy smile from his face. She wanted to do to him the countless things she'd fantasied about doing to the men who came to her stables most nights. But the longer that the seconds extended between them, the more she could feel her resolve deflating.

"Come on," he said once more, and Parisa crumpled entirely. The man must have seen the defeat in her eyes because he wasted no time in grabbing her wrist and pulling her from the home. She expected him to lead them to the stable, but dug her feet into the snowy earth beneath her when she saw the two horses waiting outside her parents' home.

"Hey!" the other man snapped when he rammed into her. Parisa flinched from the harsh tone and pressed against the back of the man in front of her. "Get a move on." The auburn-haired man ordered, shoving her forward. She stumbled forward and pulled her hand from the green-eyed man's. She looked between them, her knees bent as she prepared herself to run.

- No, this couldn't be right.

She thought as she looked between these strangers and the horses.

"No,"

Before she could dart away, the green-eyed man's hand darted out, gripping onto Parisa's arm with such force she knew it would bruise. She gasped and looked towards her parent's home. They were there, watching from the window, but the moment they made eye contact with their daughter, they turned away.

"Oh yes, little fairy," the green-eyed man whispered in her ear. He pulled her towards the horses. "You're ours now."