by ~Hunters-Moon-12

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      Selene
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       The city of Roice was set up, as most cities in Illyria were, like a giant wheel. At the center of the wheel was the Town Center, or the Commons. In some cities, this was occupied by a park or greenery. In others, it was filled with fountains. In Roice, a large well stood in the center of the Commons, surrounded by open grass where villagers or visitors could graze their horses. Around the Commons circled a street called Main Street, from which the nine spokes of the wheel, First through Ninth Avenue, radiated. These spokes were cut up by three streets. These streets were each circles; the farther from the Commons you were, the larger the circle. The first circle outside of Main Street was called Premier Street, the next Imprimateur Street, and the last Luxure Street. Between Premier Street and Main Street was the Market District, where all shops were located. While it was possible to find inns and taverns outside of this area, they tended to be less prosperous. Beyond this ring, between Premier Street and Imprimateur Street, neighborhoods had begun to form, some wealthy, some notably not. The nobility and extremely wealthy inhabited outside the second ring, with few exceptions
       At the moment, Selene was struggling down Eighth Avenue, a large bucket in each hand. In each bucket was as much water as she could carry. The streets were nearly empty; dusk had fallen hours before, and most people by now had retreated indoors. Selene, however, was not afforded that luxury. While the rest of the servants were released at sundown, as was required by law, Selene was kept working. After all, she was not technically a servant, regardless of how she was treated. There were no laws about how hard you worked your family.
       She was forced to walk slowly to avoid spilling the water; it was a long enough walk from the well to her aunt's house without making extra trips. It was her fourth trip of the night, and hopefully the last. She glanced up from the ground quickly, straining to see Mistress Dyanne, her aunt's, house in the darkness. She could just barely see it. With any luck, she would be there within a few minutes.
       The last few steps were always the hardest, she had long ago realized. Arms burning, legs on fire, breath wheezing out of her, it was at the end that she always realized how tired she was. She stumbled the last few steps to the driveway and walked around to the back of the house, where a large cistern rested. She eased the buckets to the ground slowly; as much as she wanted to drop them to the ground and sink to her knees, she couldn't risk spilling any of it, or she would certainly have to go back again.
       She took a deep breath, resting for a few moments before standing and pushing the large stone lid off of the cistern. The cistern was large in comparison to most; it was nearly as wide as she was tall. It was only as high as her hips, but sank several feet into the ground, deep enough a person could stand comfortably inside it and still not reach the top.
       She didn't push the lid completely off the cistern; there was no need. She slid it to just over halfway off, then grabbed the first bucket, pouring it carefully into the cistern, hearing the water splash against the walls. Afterwards, she glanced down into it, squinting to see through the shadows. There was nearly three feet of water in the bottom. The last bucket should be enough. She never filled the cistern completely full; not only would it take her hours of walking to fill it, but it would take too long to use that much water, and it would go stale and cause mold to grow on the walls. She already had to climb down into the cistern once a month to scrub the walls. She hated to think how often she'd have to clean them otherwise.
       She turned around to grab the other buck, then blinked in confusion. She could have sworn she had set it right there, next to the corner of the house. She spun around when she heard the familiar laugh behind her.
       She found Randall standing near the cistern, an empty bucket in one hand, a full one in the other. Right now he was swinging it carelessly, and she watched in growing anger as more and more water sloshed over the sides of the bucket onto the ground. He laughed at her expression. "Aw, someone looks upset...I was only trying to help." A slow grin spread across his face and she grimaced; he was about to do something totally stupid, she just knew it. Whenever that look crossed his face, it was followed by something nasty.
       He walked over to the cistern, peering inside it. Then, he carefully poured the rest of the water into it. Selene frowned. He would never help her willingly, so what was he up too. He motioned her over, and she took the few steps forward carefully. He said, "Does that look full enough? I've never done this before."
       She glanced at him, then leaned over the side of the cistern to stare into its depths. She squinted her eyes, then said, "I think it could probably use--" She wasn't able to finish her sentence, because as soon as she leaned over the open cistern, she felt his hands on her waist, lifting her quickly into the cistern. She screamed and clung to the edge, trying to pull herself up and out, but he just laughed, offering no help.
       After a few seconds of laughing, he said, "See you in the morning." Then he cackled and began pushing the stone lid back onto the cistern. She felt the stone lid kiss her fingers and let go, falling into the inky blackness.

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Comments

kelly bella

06 September 2012

I am thoroughly captivated! Excellent writing. Oh, goody, I see there is more. Yea! I can't wait to get at it... but I need to say something stupendous here. The way you described the arrangemednt of the town's streets was very easy to follow. That is NOT an easy thing to do--some authors shouldn't even consider doing it. You did it so well it was a snap for me to picture it. Selene in a matter of a few paragraphs lives and breathes as naturally as you and me. Terrific writing.