Sofia
SOFIA
AGE 8
No one outside of sworn men of the king can step beyond the wall for their own protection and protection of all of Suvi.
Dragon-tongue shall hereby not be taught in any formal education.
Dragonborn are prohibited from writing and reading beyond basic symbols for record keeping. Any writing will be subject to search and seizure.
Dragonborn shall not be allowed to own or use any form of weapon, including swords, daggers, spears, bows, black powder, and any other item deemed as an asset of war.
The worship of the dragons is hereby forbidden in any form. Any paraphernalia found in the possession of the Dragonborn will be deemed as proof of worship.
The Laws of Suvi - Royal Decree, 613 th sun cycle of the kings
S ofia had never been so excited to grow up as she was the day her shoulders got stuck in the latrine tunnel and it took Liza ten minutes to pull her out. That evening, even Ms. Garcia couldn’t deny that it was time for to be switched out for someone new. The next day when she arrived at the back door in her uniform, freshly patched where the dress had torn from getting stuck, she was introduced to her replacement. The girl was tiny and had to wonder if she’d been that size when she’d first been assigned the job.
Her face was heart-shaped, kinky curls framing her face in a short crop. Wide brown eyes stared up at as Ms. Garcia explained the job, as if held power, which she supposed she did now. At least over this one small child.
It was this sense of responsibility that did her in. When she watched the girl—Mina—crawl into the latrines, the same rope had worn just a few days before tied around her waist, she felt a sense of responsibility that she doubted Liza ever felt for her. She’d never had a little sister, her parents barely making ends meet with a single child.
They rarely exchanged words beyond the basic pleasantries each morning, but always stayed to help load the cart even after Mina was done. And she showed her the best place in the nearby canal to rinse herself without getting in the way of passing boats. It was a few blinks into working with Mina that showed up at their usual meeting spot only to see the patch of unmarked field empty. Not known for her patience, she waited, kicking pebbles along the grasses and wildflowers—greenery that only thrived here because of the workers like her who carted water from the canal to feed the soil. After a minute or two, she grew bored, the vicious morning sun beating down on her head, turning her dark hair hot against her scalp.
The canal was within eyesight and she’d be able to see when Mina showed up. So instead of going back into the kitchens to tell Ms. Garcia of the girl’s tardiness, she made her way toward the glistening waters. She only made it a hundred yards, when she heard the high-pitched yell that had her stopping in her tracks. Mina may not have been a gregarious child, but recognized the scream well. She ran toward the sound, around the back of the house where the stables and live-in servants resided. In the middle of the bare patch of land that acted as a small courtyard for the servants’ quarters, Mina lay on the ground surrounded by four boys who would have towered over the girl even if she had she been standing.
’s heart thumped heavy in her chest as five pairs of eyes swiveled to meet hers. She didn’t recognize the boys, but she could tell from the clean cut of their clothes they were likely Dereyan. And Mina—dragons bless her—was looking up at her as if had any chance of saving her.
“I—” she swallowed back the quiver in her voice, “I came to get Mina. She’s late for work.”
One of the boys snickered, nudging Mina where she lay on the dirt. “I don’t know why we keep dragon-filth around. More trouble than you’re worth.”
bit her tongue and kept her face neutral. She just wanted to take Mina and leave.
But even as she moved forward to help the smaller girl up, one of the boys stepped toward her, shoving her hard in the chest. She landed in the dirt, a small squeak of pain escaping her lips.
“We didn’t say we were done with her.”
’s hands clenched, nails digging into the dry dirt as she pushed herself up.
“Just let me take her. We need to go to work.” She tasted metal on her tongue, her breaths sharp.
The boy stepped forward, leaning over her. “Beg for it.”
“Please,” she said, voice soft and eyes low. She hated herself for the deference.
“Get on your knees and beg properly like a good little dragon-filth.”
moved jerkily, her body fighting against her even as she slowly went to her knees. She looked back up at the boy, eyes burning with tears, and bit out the word. “Please.”
“I don’t listen to filthy, disgusting, dragon-filth,” he said, shoving her where she kneeled.
She tried to remind herself that there were four of them and one of her, but her vision went red and the blood rushed in her ears, singing loudly. She came back to her feet, body trembling.
“Don’t push me.”
The ringleader gave a laugh, launching forward. He pulled back his arm, ready to punch her. ducked to the side, easily avoiding his fist, but a moment later a set of small hands grabbed her from behind. The other three boys had joined the fight. The next punch landed, and even with his thin arms it made her head ring. She hissed and kicked like a wild animal, her foot making contact with the soft flesh of one boy’s stomach and her head hitting against something hard. She heard their grunts of pain, but still she ended up facedown, a small boot in her side.
But she never stopped fighting. She didn’t even notice when the hand that picked her up and dragged her to standing was that of an adult. She lashed out, smacking them across the face, only stopping when she heard Ms. Garcia’s gravelly voice cursing in a way she’d only heard in the dirtiest alleys of the slums.
Her body went slack and she looked around. The boys were all gone and Mina stood nearby, the slightest hint of a bruise forming across her cheek.
“I swear to the old kings, you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Girl. What were you thinking starting a fight with those boys?”
She didn’t have an answer, and Ms. Garcia didn’t wait for one. There was nothing she could have said to defend herself.
Even the next day, when the boys came back with one of their fathers and she was given five lashes from each of them in punishment, she didn’t defend herself. It didn’t matter that they had started the fight. It didn’t matter that the most she’d managed was to give one boy a split lip. They only cared that she dared to fight back.
Still she didn’t cry. She didn’t show them her weakness, and she never regretted her choice. At least she walked away with more bruises and cuts than Mina.