Magical Girl

Marlene was fifteen, and her father was planning to find her a husband. But Marlene didn’t want to marry so young. At this age, in her previous life, she would still have been a middle school student. However, in this world—especially in the countryside—fifteen was old enough to marry and have children. Here, people grew up quickly. The girls in the village, at twelve or thirteen, already had full figures. Poor Marlene, on the other hand, at fifteen, was still at least half a head shorter than the other girls her age and as thin as a twig. People assumed this was because she hadn’t been fed well, but Marlene believed it was something deeper, that her subconscious had somehow affected her appearance. She didn’t resemble her parents much. Her father was a short, plump man with dirty brown hair and brown eyes, and her mother had light brown hair and green eyes. Marlene, however, had dark brown hair, almost black, and similarly dark eyes. She rarely smiled, which made her seem gloomy. Her hair and eye color were rare here, but not in a good way. When her father, Karl, got drunk, he’d blame her appearance, calling her dark hair and eyes the colors of the devil. He even claimed that if it weren’t for the bad luck she’d brought, their family would have already prospered. Marlene, though, was secretly grateful for how she looked, as it allowed her to see a face in the mirror that didn’t entirely feel like someone else’s. No matter how frail Marlene looked, she was still fifteen. Her fellow laundry maid, Aunt Marianne, gleefully came to inform her that her father planned to marry her off to one-eyed Cleo. The village was very small, so as soon as someone mentioned a name or nickname, everyone knew who it was. Little Cleo was the youngest son of the blacksmith Cleo. It was said that when he was very young, his father, the old blacksmith, drunkenly pressed a hot poker to his eyelid, and ever since, one of his eyes wouldn’t open. A man like that wouldn’t be considered by any halfway decent-looking girl. But his family was relatively well-off. In a village full of drunks and layabouts, his father’s blacksmith shop and steady job definitely made him one of the more capable men around. Since one of his eyes was damaged and the other was nearly blind, Cleo couldn’t find a wife in the village. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have lowered his standards to choose a little bean sprout from the drunkard Dast’s family. The village wasn’t big, so as Marlene crossed it, she lifted her skirt carefully to avoid stepping in any muddy puddles. She’d heard that someone was going to town to buy wheat seeds today, and she was hurrying to catch a ride. Someone saw her along the way and called out her nickname: “Hey! Gloomy Marlene, where are you off to?” Marlene kept her head down, pretending not to hear. Those people never had anything good to say to her, so there was no point in responding. This annoyed the person calling to her, who then loudly mocked, “Off to bury your silver coins in the woods again, are you? Ha ha ha…” This was life in a small village—whatever you did, whatever you planned to do, nothing could escape the watchful eyes of others. In this small world, there were no fences or walls, and anyone could easily poke their head into your yard. Marlene kept her head down and walked even faster. At the village entrance, she found the cart driver loading bags onto the flatbed. She gripped the cart rail and asked him, “Could you give me a ride?” “Three coppers.” “Can I pay later?” Marlene asked. “I’m going to Audlin to collect my wages. You know, I’ve been working for Lord Rhodes. I’ll pay you as soon as I get my money.” The driver grinned, showing a set of dirty, crooked teeth. “On credit, it’s five coppers.” The cart was an open flatbed, piled high with miscellaneous items. Including Marlene, there were three people squeezed onto it, with barely enough room for their feet. The cart slowly creaked towards town. Marlene stared blankly at the passing scenery, feeling both dazed and resolute. Since she was twelve, Marlene had been working as a laundry maid for the Rhodes family in town. Her frail build made others doubt her usefulness, so she only received two-thirds of the usual wage. She’d been at this job for three years, her hands now rough and cracked, hardly the hands of a young girl. Years ago, Marlene never would have imagined life could be this tough. It was strange—back when she had no worries, life sometimes seemed meaningless. But now, faced with hardship, life felt so precious. Even if she had to endure hunger and cold, she felt a deep desire to survive. The harder it got, the more she fought to keep going. Audlin was the nearest town to the village. Once she arrived, Marlene arranged a return time with the cart driver. After parting ways with the villagers, Marlene didn’t go directly to the Rhodes estate. Instead, she turned towards the church. Apart from the mansion of the wealthy Rhodes family, the church was the best building in town. The second-best was a two-story brick building, which was already considered beautiful by the local villagers. Bright candles burned continuously inside the church, said to symbolize the light of the Goddess, and they were never extinguished. Marlene’s soul came from a free and secular world; she was a natural-born atheist. She didn’t know where this Goddess came from, and her busy days left little time to learn her story. However, everyone—whether priests or lords, vagrants or drunks, and even criminals—believed in the Goddess. To avoid being labeled a heretic and burned, Marlene wisely pretended to worship the Goddess and did so with apparent devotion. The church was very quiet, as it was usually empty except for Ash, the middle-aged priest, an old nun whose age was impossible to guess, and a few hired workers. In the confessional, Marlene knelt, hands clasped, appearing like an innocent, devout young girl. “When I was thirteen, he had already thought of selling me to Brintha. I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, Father, but poor Brintha drank himself to death in the snow last winter,” Marlene said. She spoke of Brintha as pitiful, but her face showed no sympathy. Marlene couldn’t muster any pity for a man like Brintha. He was a notorious layabout in town, and his wife, after years of beatings, had gone mad. One day, the poor woman ran off into the forest and never returned. He was Karl’s drinking buddy, three years older than him. But age didn’t matter to Karl; as long as Brintha bought him drinks, he was willing to marry Marlene off to him. “The Goddess of Light protects everyone, whether they’re rich or poor, noble or lowly. Is that really true?” the young girl asked. “Yes, the Goddess watches over you, dear Marlene.” Behind a curtain from Marlene sat Father Ash, the priest of the church. He was the lowest rank of priest and had served in this small town of Audlin for twenty-seven years. Audlin was notorious throughout the Amalen region for producing prostitutes and thieves, making it one of the least desirable places for a priest to be assigned. Nevertheless, as a man of the cloth, Father Ash was obligated to listen to the prayers of his congregation, even though many of them were, in his eyes, far from virtuous. Marlene, the young girl before him, was no exception. “Now my father is about to sell me off to someone else again. Despite my hard work for him, he’s ready to discard me for a few dozen gold coins. Does the Goddess really intend to watch me be thrown into the fire?” Marlene said. She worked hard, not for her drunkard father, but she had to present herself as pitiable to possibly sway Father Ash. Ash remained silent. He was there only to listen, and there were too many people asking for help each day; he couldn’t help them all. “I’ve been washing clothes for Lord Rhodes since I was twelve, earning four Amalen silver coins a week. Even by last year’s gold rates, that’s twelve gold coins a year. If my father chooses not to marry me off, I could earn him the same amount in just one year. Only one year, Father. I would give him every bit I earned if he would only spare me. My father is also a devout follower of the Goddess, so he would surely listen to your counsel. Please, Father, I only ask that you speak a few words on my behalf.” With Father Ash’s guidance and Marlene’s promise to hand over her earnings, Karl would likely reconsider. She just needed a year—a year to grow, to find a chance to escape. “The merciful Goddess will protect you, child.” Marlene lowered her head and asked, “Father, the Goddess of Light feels so distant. I only ask for a little mercy from you. A few words from you could change my fate. Are you really unwilling to grant me even this small kindness?” Father Ash wavered. He knew Marlene Dast. Her father, Karl Dast, was a drunkard, and her late mother had been a prostitute who died of venereal disease. That poor woman had taken clients even the day before her death, and when she passed, it was Father Ash who prayed over her and conducted her last rites. Of course, he was the only priest in town, so there was no one else to do it. In this small town and the nearby villages, many girls have shared a fate similar to Marlene’s. Here, girls have almost only two paths: marriage or selling their bodies. Father Ash had been stationed here for over twenty years, and he’d seen it countless times. In the house next to the church, the fat old woman in a dirty apron who beat children with fire tongs, the gaudy women on the streets with their dresses exposing most of their chests, and the countless women of Audlin—they had all, at some point, looked just as pitiful, pleading with him for mercy and praying for help. Father Ash could do nothing; no change ever happened. These girls still followed the paths of their mothers, aunts, and older sisters. This was Audlin. —Indeed, Father Ash had felt a moment of pity, but it lasted only a few seconds. By now, Marlene had taken too much time. Someone outside the confessional was growing impatient and knocked on the door. “May the Goddess bless you, child,” Father Ash said calmly, signaling her to leave. Marlene exited the church and glanced back at the worn-out church doors. She understood all too well that if the Goddess could save anyone, Audlin wouldn’t look the way it did. —It was time to collect her wages. Marlene straightened her worn-out dress, wrinkled from praying, and headed toward the Rhodes estate. It was still daytime, yet the streets were already filled with drunken men and scantily-clad women. People walked through vomit and trash, and the entire street reeked of rot and sour decay. Here, people dumped their waste directly onto the streets, including the contents of their chamber pots. One had to walk carefully, never knowing when something foul might be thrown out from a door or window. Marlene couldn’t find a single clean spot to step, so she walked over the trash, her ill-fitting old shoes now covered in filth. The locals of Audlin were accustomed to this squalor, but Marlene, who had once lived in such a clean and orderly world, couldn’t—and would never—get used to it.