Chapter Text
Stiles twisted and turned in her makeshift sleeping sack. Her dreams were plagued by screams and fire. Glowing eyes and gunfire. She screamed out a name that she didn’t remember as she opened her eyes. Her chest heavy rapidly. She shivered as she looked around, her fire had died out with the falling snow, she crawled out of the small hollowed tree she had found. She dusted off her jacket that she laid her head on and put it on tying it tightly around herself. She sighed softly as she looked at the half loaf of bread she had on her, it was unfortunately growing mold but she couldn’t afford to get rid of it. She tears off the bit of mold and drops it into the snow. She eats a few pieces before putting it away again. She gets up and starts walking back out to the road missing the longer hair she had a few days prior. She had crudely cut it to more of a boyish fashion. Less chance of being taken and selling her body she hoped. She had seen a woman being taken off the trail and dragged into a waiting carriage. She holds herself at the memory of the woman's screams. “So many ghosts in my life. Hard to tell what is real anymore.” She starts walking towards the next sign of civilization. Turned out to be the biggest city she had seen so far, at least as far as she could remember.
See, Stiles didn’t remember much before the age of ten. The hospital she had woken up in didn’t have much of an idea either. They said she had been in their care for the last year and a half. No one knew her name, all they had was a destroyed cloth with the letters ‘STIL’ Stiles had chosen the last two letters to make a name for herself. When she did try to remember things from before, her head would start hurting. She once tried so hard it caused her nose to bleed, that had been the last time she tried to force any memories.
Stiles walked up to as many shops as she could looking for a job. Most shop keepers turned her away immediately on sight. She sighed softly as she kept going, she needed money to leave to go to Paris. That was one thing she did remember, someone telling her that they were going to go to Paris, and that eventually she would be able to join them. She didn’t remember their face or name, but she did remember the feeling they gave her, she believed she felt safe with this person. She wanted to always feel that safeness. It felt like home for her. She wanted to find that, her home. Stiles had been on the road for almost 7 years now, she was tired of not having a place to return to. She was looking down as she bumped into someone, they turned and huffed softly “Watch where you are going.” They had turned and walked away towards an empty street. She had wanted to go after them to apologize when a voice stopped her.
“Don't go that way young lad, all that is down there is empty memories. There was a bad tragedy that occurred there almost a decade ago. Most don't go there because they say it's haunted.” A very authoritarian voice spoke behind her, she jumped and turned to see a man wearing a uniform. He had graying hair and a maintained beard. She felt an unease creep up her spine, she looked down slightly.
“I’m sorry, sir, I will try to be more careful then.” Stiles spoke quietly trying to keep their voice from sounding too feminine.
“Where are you from, comrade?” he questioned them
“Oh, I just walked into town, I am from a village a few days walk from here.” Stiles answered, in truth they had been walking for a lot longer than a few days “I came here to try and find work.”
The man looked at them and studied their frame. “Not sure you’ll find much for your size, maybe a street sweeping job for your frail frame, but you might get too cold.”
“I don’t mind the cold, can you point me in the direction of where I should go for that job?” Stiles was hopeful, she truthfully didn’t mind as long it gave enough money to possibly get some food, they hardly ate much nowadays so a small bit of food should last her almost a week. Stiles was hopeful to get started as soon as possible, the older man pointed down the road
“Head down there and turn left, should be the third down. Let them know I sent you.” He offers the directions
“And who exactly is sending me that way?” Stiles raised her brow as the man still had yet to offer his name.
“My apologies young man, I am General Christopher Argent, I make my rounds through the city to see how well our people are doing in our lustrous Leningrad.” He smiled
Stiles bites back a laugh, “Lustrous? A blind man can tell this poor city is falling apart at the seams” she smiled softly “Didn’t realize I was in the presence of a city official, please excuse my idle rambling then, I best be on my way before it gets dark.” Stiles nods her head at the man before trying to quickly walk down the road to get away from him, since hearing the man;s last name there had been an ever present ache in the back of her mind. It just made her want to get as far away as possible.