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Dreams of the past swirled through (f/n)’s head as she lay unconscious on the small cot in the healer’s home.

Small, bare feet echoed of pitter patter sounds off the immaculately polished, marble floor. (f/n) let out a small giggle as she continued to scamper down the halls of the estate.
“Mistress (f/n)!” Her nanny called out, “Please come back! You have to bathe before dinner!”
(f/n) groaned inwardly. She took a hard right and sprinted out the double French doors. After a few, short strides, (f/n)’s feet touched lush, green grass. She continued to run until she reached a small pond surrounded by ancient willows and tall reeds. (f/n) slowed down to a bouncy walk and sat down on an old, whitewashed swing that overlooked the pond.
(f/n) sat there for some time just admiring the scene. Most of all she admired the colors. The way the pond had a orangish tint when the sun hit it just the right way or the shimmery blue of the dragonflies as they zipped about. The gentle, pink shades of the water lilies and the contrast of their petals against the dark green of the lily pads. The deep purple of the pansies that rested below her tickling her feet, the cheery yellow daisies that were planted on the other side of the pond, and the red belly of the robin that was singing away as it built its nest.
There was nothing that (f/n) enjoyed more than seeing these colors. Up in her room, tucked away under her bed, was a small easel, a casing of water colors and a brush. She kept it hidden because who knew what would happen if her ever-so-strict parents found out about it. Her nanny knew of course, but (f/n) had made her promise to keep it a secret. It was given to her on her eighth birthday, several months ago, by her grandmother who had passed three weeks later.
(f/n) thoughts were interrupted when her out-of-breath nanny staggered into view. (f/n) figured that it was probably time to obey, so she hopped off the swing and marched over to her exhausted and wheezing nanny. It’s not like (f/n) didn’t like getting cleaned. In fact she generally enjoyed it. She just didn’t like her nanny scrubbing her. (f/n) was certain that she was capable of cleaning herself and would probably do a better job than her incompetent nanny. But for now she would have to deal with it.

The snow was covering the ground in a blanket of white. (f/n) small face was pressed against the window. Her breath was creating small clouds on the glass, and she drew little faces in the fog. But her ignorant bliss was short lived.
Over the hill she noticed several dark figures trudging in the snow towards the mansion. (f/n) stopped her window artwork and watched as the figures slowly turned into men. She knew that nobody was supposed to be there at that time of night. She watched as the men made their way around to the back of the house where she lost track of them. A great shattering sound made (f/n) reel away from the window and sprint to her door. She pressed her ear up against the cold slab of wood to hear footsteps racing down the halls. She then heard the sound of more glass breaking and eventually shouting and yelling.
(f/n) opened her door and ran towards the screams. The intruders were all over the house. None seemed to notice her in the chaos while fighting off the loyal servants. (f/n) spotted her mother pressed up against a wall with one of the burly men forcefully kissing her and pulling down the hem of her nightgown collar. Worst of all it looked as if her mother was enjoying it. The mere sight of this frightened the poor girl even more. (f/n) continued to run outside where she collapsed in the freezing snow. Dressed in only her night clothes, (f/n)’s teeth soon began to chatter vigorously.
She pushed herself up in time to see her home light up in a blaze of brilliant orange, the flames reflecting off her (e/c) eyes that were wide with fear. The intruders came running out of the house, whooping and shouting, with bags full of (l/n) family heirlooms. Two of the men spotted (f/n)’s shivering form. She squeezed her eyes shut and was gruffly picked up by large, grimy hands. She was tossed, yanked, and shoved around at the mercy of her captors but, despite it all, she kept her eyes sealed shut.

(f/n) remembered standing alone on the stage. Ropes bound her hands and were making the skin around her scrawny wrists red and irritated. Standing up alone on that stage, (f/n) had a realization. It was Christmas. It was Christmas day, and (f/n) was being auctioned off like a prized animal or piece of land.
The loud man continued to shout out prices from his podium despite the poor girl’s discomfort. When the price reached a certain amount, (f/n) was guided off the stage into a small, barren room where she met her new ‘owner’. The man reeked of who knows what, and when he smiled at her she noticed his teeth were stained a dingy, mustard yellow. For some reason the fact that the man’s teeth were discolored bothered (f/n) more than the smell. She wondered how long it had been since the man had brushed his decaying teeth. Her ‘owner’ cut the ropes that bound her, and (f/n) saw her brief chance for escape. The door was left slightly ajar, and the noise outside had died down. She knew with her hands free there was a possibility she could make it out.
The man smiled at (f/n) again, and she couldn’t stand to look at his teeth anymore. She bolted. The man yelled, but (f/n) was already out the door and was heading through the warehouse. She franticly searched for an exit, and relief flooded through her when she found a door leading outside. She leaped out through the opening and for a second almost regretted her decision. Snow still blanketed the ground, and the cold nipped at her cheeks and nose, turning them a rosy red color. But the sound of running men pushed (f/n) onwards.
(f/n) couldn’t tell exactly where she was, but gathered she had to be in one of the walled cities judging by the massive stone walls surrounding her. She made her way down back roads and alleyways until she came upon a large staircase leading down into the dark. She couldn’t see very far down because of the faint, blueish moonlight. She hesitated going down, but once again the sound of men urged her on.
After several minuets of descending, (f/n) found herself in an extremely large cavern that contained a small city. When she passed through a small archway she was greeted by two men who both had muskets. Fear gripped her heart again, and she took off running. The men didn’t pursue her, but she didn’t stop running until she collided, head on, into another figure. Both subjects went sprawling to the ground. (f/n) scrambled to get up, but the other was faster. He stood looming over her, his steely, cold eyes staring right through her.
“What the hell are you doing running around,” the boy sneered at her. (f/n) couldn’t take it anymore and completely broke down in front of the stranger. She sobbed throughout her whole story, but the boy’s expression scarcely changed. The boy did something that (f/n) didn’t expect. He bent down and hugged her.
“Okay. My name’s Levi,” he simply stated.
(f/n) stiffened at first but soon relaxed. “M-my name is (f/n) (l/n),” she sniffed.
The boy, Levi, slowly helped her up and led her to where he slept. He laid her down on the shabby cot, and (f/n) fell to sleep instantly.

*Back to the Present*

It had been two days since Levi brought (f/n) to Maggie, the healing lady. (f/n) hadn't stirred in once in those two days, and Levi was starting to get worried. He was now sitting at the small table in the front room swirling his spoon in his lunch. Maggie sat across from him eating her soup with no worries as she calmly read a book. The silence between the two was stale. Levi was fidgeting. He wasn't used to sitting around this long. Maggie seemed to notice his discomfort and opened her mouth to say something. But she was interrupted by a moan from the other room.
Both shot from their seats. Maggie was the first to enter the room followed by an eager Levi. (f/n) groaned again and raised her hand to her head.
“Levi?” she gently mumbled.
“Y-yes,” he shakily responded.
“Why is there something covering my eyes?” Her hands slowly lifted to touch the white cloth tied over her eyes. “Why are they throbbing so much?” she semi-whined.
“(f/n) do you remember what happened?” Maggie asked.
“Who are you?” (f/n) questioned with hostility sneaking its way into her tone.
“Someone we can trust,” Levi answered for her. A knot was slowly growing in his stomach. If (f/n) told Maggie what actually happened, she might stop helping her get better.
“I remember running, and getting cornered. There was a man and…” she gave a small gasp in realization. “M-my eyes,” she stuttered as her fingers curled around the cloth.
“It’s better you don’t take that off for awhile until the cut across your eyes closes up,” Maggie said, stooping down to pull the terrified girl’s hands off. “You’re probably hungry, aren’t you,” (f/n) gave a small stiff nod. “I’ll be back in a second with some food,” Maggie stood and left the room.
Levi walked over and sat on the foot of the cot. “(f/n) don’t tell her we took that money,” he sternly whispered.
“I figured that out, Levi. I’m not stupid,” she snapped back at him. Her hand subconsciously raised to her useless eyes, the realization of never seeing again hitting her hard. Levi opened his mouth to say more, but Maggie reentered the room carrying a tray with a small earthen bowl, a thin slice of bread, and a glass of water. Maggie motioned for Levi to get up, and she handed the tray to him. She then proceeded to help (f/n) up into a sitting position. Maggie took the tray from Levi and set it gently on (f/n)’s lap.
With a stomach full of food, (f/n) drifted into sleep. Levi was moodily sitting on the couch in the front room and was glaring straight ahead at the wall. Maggie appeared from the hallway and noticed his state.
“Levi, being mad at nothing isn’t going to help (f/n) recover any faster,” Maggie said.
Levi knew he wasn’t mad at nothing. He was mad at himself. He was mad because he didn’t know how to deal with the over whelming feeling of guilt. The guilt of putting (f/n) in a situation that could hurt her so badly. Guilt that he wasn't there to help her and that he was absolutely powerless to help her heal.
“It’s going to take time. And an even longer time for her to gather her bearings and live whatever normal life she can lead,” Maggie continued talking as she sat down at the table. She picked up her book and began leafing the pages. “Have you ever read this?” She asked him in attempt to strike up a more uplifting conversation. Levi shook his head. “Do you know how to read?” Levi shamefully shook his head again. Maggie frowned slightly, stood up from the table and walked down the hall, returning with an ink pot, quill, and several sheets of paper.
“What are you doing?” Levi asked, his curiosity spiking.
“I’m teaching you how to read and write,” She plainly stated as if it was completely normal behavior for her to do this. “Well, get over here, boy!” she said rather sharply, setting everything down on the table before sitting down herself. Levi obeyed and shuffled over to the woman. “You never know. Maybe one day you’ll be able to help (f/n) by being able to read,” Maggie said while open in ink bottle with a pop.