The Sage's Daughter: Chapter 1

Blair Sage stirred, opening one eye slowly. She quickly shut it again as sunlight streamed in threw the window like a stern school master wanting her to answer a question. With a great effort she opened both of her eyelids and glared at the old bed sheets they used as curtains. They stirred gently, moved by the wind coming in threw a crack in the windowpane. Bethel, Blair's little sister, lay under it, her thin shoulders shivering under her blanket. Her bed was made up of old blankets, softening the hard wooden floor. Blair sat up, trying to rub some warmth into her legs. It was a Sunday: A day off of work. Blair was glad that there were days where you could rest from work without being fired. Standing up, she walked over to a black chest at the end of the bed. She opened it. Inside, hers and Bethel's clothes were folded neatly in stacks. She smiled. Her little sister must have done that. Blair picked out her black jeans and a brown tunic. She slipped out of the dress she was wearing and into the clothes she had picked out then pulled on her long black boots. Standing in front of the mirror that overhang the chest, she looked at her reflection and saw a tired, sixteen year old girl with her long blond hair hanging tangled around her shoulders, and her blue eyes that had no spark left in them. The mirror had a long crack in it, running from one corner to the other. Blair touched it, running a finger tip down the jagged break. It was a reminder to her of the day she lost her parents. She and her little sister had gone to a friends house for the day, but Blair couldn't remember why. When they had come home that night, the house was empty. Several plates had been smashed on the floor, the chest had been turned over and the mirror had been cracked. That was three years ago and Blair had been left to fend for Bethel, alone. Bethel was five now, thinner then any person should be at that age but Blair was helpless to do anything more then what she had already done. Her job, working at a clothes making factory, paid her every month, but between she and her little sister ran out of food. Blair had pride, that is she did not like begging for anything, but she would for Bethel's sake. She had sold almost everything in the house that wasn't nailed down to pay for food. Blair looked down at the opened chest.

“Has it really come to this?” she asked herself.

Bending down, she carefully took a white dress out, smoothing out the wrinkles in its clothe. It was her mother's wedding dress. It was simple and homemade, but to Blair, it was beautiful. She held it, undecided. The only food left was a package of crackers in the small room they called a kitchen. But this was her mother's dress, a cherished memory. She put it back, thinking that if it really came to it, she would sell it but they were not there quite yet. Grabbing her black leather jacket up from the floor, she put it on, zipping it up. Blair walked quietly over to Bethel and shook her shoulder gently.

“Bethel? Bethel, you need to wake up.”

Her sister sat up sleepily, as her red hair fell over her face. She rubbed her eyes then looked up at Blair.

“Hi, Blair.”

Blair smiled.

“Good morning. You need to wake up so that you can eat...” she was about to say 'breakfast' but then thought better of it. “The crackers we have left before I go to work.”

“But I thought you don't need to go to work today.” Bethel said, looking disappointed.

“I have to do some things for Mrs Blackmen.”

This seemed to wake the younger one up.

“Can I come and play with Ange and Luther?”

Blair helped her up.

“Not this time. I'm not staying at their house.”

Bethel seemed crestfallen, but only for a moment.

“Blair,” she said. “I'm almost done with one of the gloves I'm working on!” she seemed very proud of herself.

“Good, maybe I'll try to sell them next week.”

“Well, I was gonna make them for someone as a surprise.” said Bethel, looking secretive.

Blair patted her head.

“That's fine too.”

Their mother had bought a lot of yarn since she loved to make stuff with it. Bethel had carried this on, growing quite good at it. Blair was impressed sometimes at the things she had made. It helped a little with buying food, but not much. Because they had to find someone who was kindhearted enough to buy one. Blair went over to the kitchen and brought out a package of crackers from the top shelf. She walked back over to Bethel and handed it to her.

“Eat that. I don't have anything else at the moment that you can have...”

Bethel spoke threw a mouthful of food.

“Maybe Mrs Blackmen can give you some of her cheese.”

“Oh, no, Bethel. We can't ask for that. She has more people to feed in her family. She's got herself, Ange, Ben, Luther-”

“And Isacar.” her little sister chimed in.

Blair looked down at the floor.

“Yes, and Isacar... Eat those then start working on your gloves. I'll be back before dark.”

Bethel nodded, watching her older sister walk towards the door. Blair took her belt from the side of her bed. The sheath that held her dagger was attached to it. She checked the dagger. It was a long, curved knife that her father had given her to protect her. She put it back in the sheath and buckled it on. Her jacket was long enough to conceal it. Taking one more look at Bethel, Blair opened the door and walked out, shutting it behind her.

She looked at the sun, fingers of cloud beginning to curl around it. Blair guessed it would rain sometime that day. Setting off down the gray street, Blair hugged herself. It was cold, a late fall day with chilling winds. Several people were walking on the streets too, going their own ways. Blair starred at the ground while she walked, trying to look as unimportant as possible. Trying to get attention was dangerous in the city she lived in, and she guessed most in America.

Three girls, all about Blair's age, walked or stumbled up to her, all leaning on each other and giggling. She recognized one, Wryn, who worked at the clothes factory with her. Wryn smiled and laughed, beckoning Blair to follow.

“Come on, Blair. We're going to The House. Wanna join us?”

All three stopped in front of her. Blair looked at her, shucked at her behavior.

“Wryn, what are you doing?”

Her one time friend waved a carefree hand at her.

“To The House, Blair. Mia says there's gonna be quite the company.”

Mia, the oldest of the three smiled and giggled, blushing. She had a beer bottle in her hand. Blair looked her up and down, not amused. Gently, she took Wryn's arm and pulled her away from the other girls.

“Wryn, what are you thinking?”

She saw the false joy sparkling in her friends brilliant green eyes, which was really fear at being caught in the act.

“These are my friends, Mia and Jen. Is there a problem with that?”

“Wryn! You can't go to The House! What will your mom think? And what if you-”

“That won't happen,” Wryn said knowingly. “Mia won't let anything bad happen to me.”

Blair gave her a long stare.

“I'm gonna have to tell your mom.”

Wryn didn't seem to care about what her friend just said. Blair crossed her arms.

“Don't go, don't tell, because there won't be anything to tell.”

Wryn glared at her, obviously flustered.

“My mom... Left. Don't know where. And now I'm on my own! I gotta do what will get me money.”

Blair was confused. If her mom had left her, why wasn't she sad?

“Wryn... I'm sorry that your mom left you.”

Wryn shrugged.

“Don't be. I'm better off by myself.”

Blair tried to hide her pain at the way her friend was acting.

“Wryn, believe me, living with yourself in charge is not fun. Its just work, and pain, and loss.”

Wryn drew away from her.

“That's because of Bethel. If you didn't need babysit her, you'd be out with the best of us.”

“Doing the worst things!” Blair added, her voice strained with concern.

Mia and Jen were not listening. Mia shared the beer bottle with her friend and called to Wryn.

“Are you coming?”

Blair and Wryn locked eyes for a second then Wryn broke the the spell, walking back towards the other girls.

“Yeah, I'm coming. Really Blair, this is the way to make money.”

Blair shook her head.

“It is, isn't it?”

This seemed to aggravate them, but she ignored them and started to walk away. Mia called after her.

“Oh, come on, girly! Its not like its against the law.”

Blair sighed, hating how helpless she felt. Wryn was only fourteen. Blair knew that Mia had pressured her into going. She had tried to do that to her as well. Blair put a hand on her face, shaking her head. She found herself wondering what it would be like to live like them. Blair's mother had told her that doing something wrong, even if its to save somebody else, is wrong. That's why Blair took a job, to be able to have money without doing something wrong. Blair knew that Mia and the others were being paid for men to use them, and that made her sick. They could not see how wrong that actually was. For them, there was nothing negative about it. If they get pregnant, they can get an abortion for free and they foolishly thought that they were save from abuse since they were at The House. Blair looked to her left. It was a alley, where someone had tried to abuse her. Blair shuddered, recalling that day.

It had been the first day she had worked at the factory. Blair had come away with a bloody finger. She was sewing and the needle had gone threw it. She held it, walking back to her house when she heard footsteps following her. She looked over her shoulder but nobody was there. She past by the alley when a hand reached out and grabbed her. Blair let out a cry of surprise but someone clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the wall. She looked up at a tall man, his dark hair shadowing his face. He held her there with his arms and smiled.

“Well, what do we have here?”

He looked lustfully at her, touching her cheek gently with his hand. Blair had been inching her hand towards her dagger but brought it out as he bent down towards her face. She didn't have the guts to stab him, so she punched him in the face with her fist clutching the blade. He staggered back, unhanding her for a second. Blair held the knife, her hand shaking slightly. With his nose bleeding, he reached out, trying to grab her hair. She slashed out with her blade, leaving a wide gash in his arm. He grabbed her shoulders, trying to gain control but Blair stabbed with the dagger at his chest. She felt his hot breath on her neck for a second then he let go of her and slumped to the ground. Blair started running, fear rising in her throat. She didn't look back to see if he was following her.

That memory still hunted Blair. She had nightmares that she killed him and she never really knew if she did. The morning after that happened, his body wasn't laying there in the alley. After that night, she had never left the house without her dagger. Blair almost ran into someone in the street. She was quick and sidestepped, keeping her head down. The person, a young man flashed a dangerous smile at her. He was a Mark. She nodded to him, not out of friendship and carried on. Four other Mark's were with him. They all starred at her as she past by. The Marks were the governing power in America, their iron fist choking any uprising. Blair was scared of them. They did what ever they wanted and only enforced obedience to the Marks. They didn't care if someone was abused or stolen from, but they took some interest in murder cases. The Marks were promised to be the perfect way to rule in peace, but the people did not see this at work. Some of the bigger cities were starting to have more Marks, but then they also had more food. Since the town where Blair lived was a small one, the Marks didn't bother to send food there. Her father had hated them. She could remember heated debates about the Marks and how they ruled. Blair tried to not break the law and live her dismal life quietly. She was not sure that was everybody's view on it though. She turned a corner and walked down a street with lots tiny houses jammed together. She stopped at the 5^th one and walked up the steps to the door. She knocked on it.

The door opened and Mrs Blackmen stood there, holding her five year old Luther in her arms. She smiled at Blair.

“Come in, miss Blair. I just made some bread, do you want some?”

Blair stepped in, feeling the warmth in there house. They had a fire place which was very useful in the cold seasons. Blair shook her head.

“Oh, I couldn't have some. Your kids need it more then I do.”

Mrs Blackmen, or Kary as she was more well known as, looked concerned.

“Blair, that's not true. You need to eat just as well as the next person. Goodness, child, when was the last time you ate?”

Blair closed her eyes, trying to remember.

“Three or four days, I think.”

Kary put Luther down and ushered Blair into their tiny kitchen.

“I won't let you work for me today til you eat some of my bread.”

Blair complied, sitting down at their table. Ange, Kary's little girl, walked up to her holding a doll.

“Did Bethel come?” she asked.

“No, she couldn't.”

Ange's looked disappointed. Blair smiled.

“Maybe next time.”

“Hi, Blair.”

Blair looked up and Isacar standing there, watching her. He was tall and hansom, his dark hair covering his mischievous eyes. She smiled at him.

“Hey.” she answered.

He sat down at the table beside her.

“You didn't come to my birthday party yesterday.” he said almost teasingly.

She looked down at her hands.

“Well, I would have ruined your celebration of your eighteenth birthday.” her sarcasm was plain.

He shrugged.

“Well, don't you like celebrating that I'm alive?”

This was how it always was, them two trying to outdo each other with sarcasm.

“Yes, but your turning eighteen... Your going to be drafted next month. What's to celebrate about that?”

He looked at her with his piercing brown eyes.

“I'm not going to be drafted, Blair.”

Blair could tell that there was something more in those words but Kary came in before she could reply. She put a plate in front of her that had one slice of bread on it. Blair smiled at Kary. She knew that Kary had the same disdain for the Marks as Isacar, or even Blair's dad. She often thought that the kind, forward woman knew more then she would say about the Marks. But everyone was drafted. If you tried to fight them they would kill you. The smell of the bread made Blair feel weak but she felt guilty even touching it. She picked it up and nodded at Kary.

“Thank you.”

Kary smiled back. Blair knew that it would be rude to not except it now. She ate it quickly, then noticed that Isacar was starring at her. He grinned and her and she rolled her eyes. They were best friends, if pulled apart with there views of the Marks, they still manage to get along very well with there sarcastic personalities. Blair stood and thanked Kary. She turned back to Isacar.

“So, how much cheese are we selling today?”

Isacar stood as well.

“As much as we can.”