2013.10.06 - Once Upon A Time In Russia

Central Russia 1399 ADE

The Golden Horde had been defeated over a decade ago, though Tatar rule over Russia remained. The Grand Duchy of Moscow continued to increase its influence and gain more land, but the girl named Sasha Alkaev knew nothing of the supposed increase in quality of life, riches, and so forth. She was 16 now, and she knew work. She was small for her age. Small, and pale, and blonde, and quiet. She was quiet for a number of reasons. Her father liked to think it was because he had drummed into her that children were to be seen and not heard. The real reasons had more to do with Sasha always thinking about something. Always imagining, always planning. She barely existed in the world that other people inhabited. She could do her chores, gathering fire wood, food, cooking, cleaning, and all the rest without even really thinking about it. There were moments when she came out of her dream long enough to change tasks or respond to a question when spoken to, but mostly she just let her body work autonomously. Pain and fatigue meant nothing.

Sasha's relationship with the world was much like her relationship with her body. Tools. Annoyances. Contrivances. Things that were used to accomplish something and that she took no joy in. It didn't matter if she lacked the muscular strength to haul fire wood. She hauled it anyway. It didn't matter if she was injured as a result. The pain barely registered in her awareness. It just didn't matter.

Nothing mattered next to the dream world she created in her head. It used to be harder. She used to lose herself in the imaginary realm where things were bright, and she was happy, and everyone knew how important she was and treated her with kindness and respect. But that had unfortunate consequences in the 'real' world. And so she learned to let her body perform tasks and respond only to certain types of input, and just existed in her own world all the time. Because going back and forth between absolute freedom and the absolute tyranny of a universe with laws and rules and people who couldn't see what her destiny was the way she could was just too much of a strain.

It was better this way. She was cold, and she was detached, and she stayed quiet, but her father always had a warm home to return to, and nourishing food to eat, and he didn't hit her anymore. Not that she would care now if he did. She wouldn't even feel it for more than a couple minutes. Then he'd be tired and she'd be back in her own universe where everything was more vivid and real.

Then one day, there was a traveller who came to their door in winter. He changed everything.