Fate

Chapter 12

Liana kept Ella in the hospital for several more days. Predictably, Sebastian came in the afternoon, and she did her best to either be asleep or pretending to. Often he was just silent, holding her hand and watching her sleep. Other times, he would talk to her, of gossip and of his living situations. Unbeknownst to him, Ella processed everything he said. Being the romantic she was, she was desperate to believe him, to forgive and forget, and to tell him that she too, was still in love. But it still hurt too much, and the possibility of rejection or being hurt again was too risky.


It was a fine morning when Liana allowed Ella to finally leave the hospital. The scars were mostly healed, and the nurse wanted her to come in a couple days, to make sure no infection had wound its way in. Profusely, Ella thanked her for her care, and asked her to thank whoever paid for her care. It was with a twinge in her heart that Liana watched the sixteen-year old walk away. Life on the streets had hardened her, ageing her before her time. With a sigh, Liana turned back to her duties.

Ella hurried back to Sty’s. She had no idea if her job still held, seeing as she hadn’t been working for nearly two weeks. And besides, there was a good chance that he wouldn’t want to keep her—she was after all, suicidal, and no one wants a suicidal whore.


Kat was waiting for her anxiously when she got back. The blonde enveloped her younger friend in a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh Goddess, you’re alive!” she whispered furiously, “Don’t ever scare me again like that! One minute you’re here, and the next you’re gone without a trace.”

“Kat.. I’m fine,” Ella said back, hugging her friend but without much enthusiasm. Her suicidal thoughts were still with her, “Tell me something though… Am I still employed here?”

She knew the answer before Kat replied. The second too long spent in hesitation, the look of sadness hastily erased on her face.

“Honey, I’m—”

“It doesn’t matter. I knew it would happen anyway. Is there anything left of mine in the room?”

Kat shook her head, “You’ve got everything with you.”

Ella nodded, “I’ll be seeing you… I’ve got some things to attend to.”

And with that, Ella walked off towards the market; away from Sebastian’s house.


She set herself up as a beggar once more. She had no desire to sell her body yet, not while it was still recovering from her attempt to kill herself. The men would get disgusted, and not pay her. Mourning for her life, Ella sang the saddest ballads, while coins clinked in her open pouch. As before, she drew a small crowd, but no one deemed her worthy of more than a neya. That night, she slept in her habitual doorway. The building was still vacant, and no one came to bother her.


A single white rose lay by her feet when she awoke.

Ella had no doubt from who it was. But she barred her heart from feeling, and refused to think about him. Their social statuses were too different. He was married. The best thing for her was to forget about him.


A month passed, and she scraped by with begging. She lost some weight, and had to sell a few of her clothes, but on the whole, she was doing alright. She wasn’t happy. She felt numb. Devoid of feeling. Empty. She contemplated suicide once more. She didn’t feel anything now, and it would be best to end it. Wouldn’t it?

Finally, small feelings of arousal came back to her. Glimpses of handsome men spurred her interest once more, and she thought once more of selling her body. One day, she ducked into a third-hand shop, where she knew they had a full-length mirror. Ella needed to examine her body, and determine if it could still be desirable. She stepped into the stall and stripped. As she looked at herself, she was shocked to see that her breasts were much smaller mounds of flesh, and she could count several of her ribs. Her hips protruded, as well as her collarbones. Her arms and legs were looking disproportionately thin when critically examined, and compared to the rest of her body.

Ella ran her hands over her body, feeling the rise and fall of the harsher curves. No man would ever want her. Not unless they were absolutely desperate. Or so drunk they couldn’t see straight. Ella dressed again, and stepped out of the stall. She headed to the counter, and pulled out several more clothes.

“How much can I get for these? They’ve only been worn a handful of times each.” She asked.

“Hmm...” the shop manager critically examined each article of clothing, “Fifty neyas for everything.”

“Seventy.”

“Fifty-nine.”

“Sixty-five.”

“Sixty-one.”

“Sixty-four.”

“Sixty-three.”

“Done,” Ella sealed the deal, handed the clothes over, and gathered the money in her hand, counting it carefully. She didn’t want to be cheated, especially since her survival depended on the money in her hands. She bid the shop manager a good day, and walked out, heading towards the market where she could buy food. Lots of food. Forget the clothes, the men would only want her naked anyway. Ella looked at the various stalls while munching on a few sausages. There was nothing she could afford, seeing as she now had priorities in terms of spending, but she did enjoy looking at the cloths, and imagining herself swathed in them. Deep purple velvet, shimmering red silk, vibrant green taffeta, the colors entranced her.

Before she knew it, the bells chimed noon, and Ella reluctantly left the market. She had fifty neyas left. She found her doorway and settled down, opening her pouch and began to sing. Despite her weight loss, her voice remained the same, clear and pure, and still attracting curious passerby’s. She was lucky to be blessed with her voice; otherwise she would’ve died a long time ago. Singing distracted the people. A few shadows, who obviously were in no hurry to go anywhere, lingered around her, dropping more money for each song she finished, encouraging her for another. The sky was turning dark, and there was one man left. He knelt down, to be at eye-level with Ella.

“What is your name?”

Ella’s head jerked up. She hadn’t realized he was still there.

“E—Ella, sir,” she said, frightened.

“Ella,” he paused, musing, “Can you read?”

“A little, sir. I know my letters too.”

“Ah, excellent…” he trailed off, “How…How would you like working for me?”

“Sir, I, I don’t know. I don’t know you. What kind of work would this involve?”

The man chuckled, “My name is Vari Del’mas. I work in an entertainment house. I believe that your voice would be a wonderful asset to my team.”

Ella blushed and finished closing up her pouch.

“I don’t know what to say sir. I’ve never performed.”

“Of course you have!”

“I have?”

“Yes. What you’re doing here, begging but also singing, is performing. You may not realize it, but you have talent.” Ella’s blush deepened.

“Thank you.” The silence hung for a minute, as Ella debated with herself.

“Shimur Del’mas,” Ella smiled, “Do you welcome boarders?”

Vari Del’mas smiled wide and helped Ella up, “Of course!”


The house where Vari worked was simple and didn’t ooze money, the way Ella had seen many other entertainment places do. The main room was decorated with taste, in dark red and cream. Small rounded tables were evenly spaced around the main dance floor which was in front of the stage. The place, called Al’y’Coré Moli, The Red Nights, was starting to fill up. Men and women of every class, who could afford the fifty neyas admission fee, came here to relax. This was not a whore-house; the performers did not offer their bodies. They genuinely performed what they did best, be it singing, dancing, juggling, or making people laugh.

The two upper floors were partitioned into living quarters. A bathroom and toilet were shared by all, but the rooms were individual. Vari led Ella to one on the second floor, with a view on the street.

“I won’t ask of you to perform tonight, you need to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll see what songs you know. Perhaps I’ll get Sheila, another of our singers, to teach you some new songs. Now, I’ll have Zer bring you some food.” Vari put a couple towels on her bed, “Keep track of these, they seem to mysteriously disappear from time to time,” He smiled.

“Shimur Del’mas—Vari—I,” Ella began, “Thank you. For everything,”

“Rest, my girl. We’ll talk tomorrow,” Vari bid her a good night.


Ella turned and flopped onto the bed. She closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and opened them again. She wasn’t dreaming. Excited, she sat up and opened the closet. It was bare, save for a few hangers. Within the next fifteen minutes, Ella had emptied her bags and put her meagre belongings away. With a sigh, she stripped, save for a fourth-hand nightgown she had found not long ago, and snuggled into her coat, before lying on the bed. Familiar and unfamiliar sounds and smells mingled as she drifted into sleep, feeling safe for the first time in a long while. When Zer came by, she was long gone. He smiled, and quietly shut the door. It was not worth waking her up, when she visibly needed the sleep.