Primora's POV

I sigh as I move another heavy sac of grain. My father chose today, the day with the most work of the month, to suddenly be ill so I have to do all the work at the grain mill. Typical dad. I sigh again and rub my sore shoulders. These sacks of grain are going to be the death of me. Unless, of course, Father beats them. Hefting another sac of newly ground flour to my shoulder, I turn to bring it to the cart I'm loading.

Four males stand in the doorway. Three are boys from an orphanage in the town and one is an old man I've never seen before.

"Can I help you?" I ask, raising a brow.

"Uh, do you need help with that," one of the boys asks. I think his name is Aaron or something.

"Do I look like I need help to you? I've been working here since I was five. I do not need help. But do you?"

"Yes, actually," the strange old man says, "We are coming to get you."

I nearly trip over my feet, then fight to regain my balance before I fall, "Uh, excuse me? I think I missed something."

He sighs, "Right. You have been chosen as a Holder of a power ring. We need you to come with us for your training."

"Power rings? I thought those were lost to legend! Wait, how do I know this isn't a joke or something?" I ask, cautious.

"Ask Mister Mood Swing over there. He was trapped, picked up, and carried by a pile of dirt," Aaron(possibly) nods to the tallest boy.

The boy in question glares at Aaron. I think his name is Kaine? "I was skeptical at first too, but this man is legitimate. He can actually manipulate earth with those rings."

"Ok, so the boys, I've seen them around. But you... Mr. Old Man, I've never seen you before in my life. Who are you and where did you come from? Also, will I be stuck with all guys wherever we go, if I agree? Another thing, why are they all guys? Are the rings sexist? If so, I may not agree to go. What's in it for me? And-"

"You can stop asking questions now. I don't even remember half of the ones you just asked," the old man interrupts, "Though I do remember the  who I am one."

"Wait, I just realized that you didn't tell us your name. How is that fair?" Aaron(I'm more and more sure that's his name) demands. He seems to talk the most.

"My name is Lord Otto and I never told you because you never asked."

Aaron crosses his arms and grumbles.

"Hey. So... this is fun and all but my shoulder is really starting to get tired. I'd love it if you could move so I can finish loading this cart. We can talk afterwards," I bite my lip, suddenly aware of the weight on my shoulder. The sacks are around fifty pounds each so after a while they get really heavy.

"We can help you," the smallest boy, I know for a fact his name is Zayne, offers.

"You don't have to," I sigh, "I can get this done myself if you want to wait."

"I don't believe we have time to wait for you to finish on your own," Lord Otto steps inside and to the side, allowing me through the door. The boys walk in behind him and I jog to the cart where the impatient horses are stomping their hooves and their even more impatient driver is grumbling to himself.

"Primora, which sacks are we supposed to get?" Zayne inquires, sticking his head out the door.

"Oh, so the little girl has help, does she?" the driver mutters.

I clench my teeth to keep myself from spitting a response that would be considered less than pleasant back. I toss the sack onto his cart and turn back, "I'll show you, one sec."

I jog back and show him the pile we're loading. With the three of them helping me, we get it done in record time and before I know it we were sitting in the mill talking about the rings.

"Ok, so I want to know everything about the rings. One; why am I the only girl? Two; why me? Three; will I actually be able to leave here for good?" The last question is more of a demand. And it will probably be the deciding factor. I rub a healing cut on my arm from one of my father's beatings a couple weeks ago. The twinge of pain reminds me of how deep it was to still be hurting this far after it. I usually heal pretty quickly.

"That's all?" Lord Otto asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Hah. Not even close."

<><><><><><><><>

It takes hours to explain everything, much to Lord Otto's dismay, but, by the end, I know all I need to.

The four of us will be searching for the rest of the twelve rings, the fire, water, and air rings. We hold the earth rings in our power and I'll be able to magnetize the other earth rings to me to add to my power, though that could be very dangerous. We'll be training on the mountain right outside the town. Once we're ready, that's when we'll be searching for the other rings. I will be stuck living with all guys but I'm allowed to set rules about that. I decided on no physical contact and leaving me alone when I tell them to.

On top of that, I'll have my own space. 

"So... Primal," Kaine starts.

"That's not my name."

"Primora, right. What happened to your face?"

"Oh, gee, thanks."

"No, I mean..." he stops and gestures to the spot in question.

Oh... right.

"I tripped over my own foot and scraped my face."

"Yeah. I don't believe that," Zayne mutters.

"Believe what you'd like. I'm a clutz."

"Yeah, ok. So why are you so eager to leave here? Don't you have a family here?" Aaron asks, clearly knowingly changing the subject. Though it's still related. They must already know each other's stories having lived together most of their lives.

"My dad. But he's been trying to get me to move out for a while now. Other than that... my mom died not long after I was born. She got sick and never recovered and my sister... she died about a month ago," I explain. The mention of my sister causes my eyes to burn with unshed tears but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I look down and blink them back.

 "How did she die?" Aaron asks at the same time Kaine says, "How old are you?"

I flinch physically at the question, clenching my jaw and my fist, letting the pain from my nails ground me before I respond. "I'm fourteen and she... she committed suicide," I grind out, keeping my gaze leveled at the ground.

"Well, I'll leave you to tell your dad where you're going and what you'll be doing. Oh, and we'll be waiting for you at the only tavern in town. At dawn," Lord Otto nods after what feels like an eternity of silence.

"Speaking of my dad, I need to get home. Work would've ended almost an hour ago." I wave to them and walk away. I'm not worried about them possibly vandalizing the mill or anything so I leave them to head off when they want to.

I don't hurry too much on my way back, my dad will probably, hopefully, be black-out drunk anyway. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven't eaten since lunch the day before, and I sigh. I'll get something when I get home.

Every day my dad reminds me that I'm the biggest problem in his life. I know my mom named me Primora because I was the prime source of joy in her life, my dad told me that once a few years back (then immediately said that I was his primal source of pain so it was still fitting). Now I'll be controlling a primal element. I wonder what that will be like. The surge of power I felt when I put the ring on was amazing, I can't wait to use it.

Too caught up in my thoughts of my sister and my new life to notice the uneven road, I slip on a loose piece of cobblestone, catching my balance right before I fall. I reach my house a few minutes later and heave a deep breath, steeling myself for the smell of alcohol that permeates the entire damned place. The stench nearly makes me gag. That isn't the most troublesome part about coming home, though.

My dad sits at the kitchen table, his face roiling with rage. I know he's drunk, he's rarely ever not, and when he stands up and grabs my arm, the smell of the alcohol on his breath actually does make me gag. I try to twist out of his grip, but he tightens it, and I gasp at the searing pain that shoots through my wrist.

"You're home late," he snarls. Or tries to. His words are so slurred I can barely understand them.

"I was just doing a bit of extra work at the mill," I lie, stealing a glance at my gloved hand that hides my ring.

"What kind of work?" his grip loosens a bit and I wrench my arm free and step back.

"Just tying to finish the shipment that came in yesterday." 

"That was supposed to last until tomorrow," he growls.

"Well, I didn't get it fini-" I cut off when he slaps my cheek, yelping in surprise and stumbling back a couple steps in an attempt to regain my balance. I rub the already bruised and scraped cheek.

"Useless child," he grumbles, then staggers off, "Go to bed. Fucking mistake."

I don't bother asking about supper, I highly doubt there's any food anyway, so I make my way to my room.

Don't wallow in self-pity. You don't deserve it.

I pull up my sleeve and look at the blood seeping through the bandages I put on them to keep my blood off my clothes and out of the public's eye. The cuts wouldn't be bleeding if my stupid dad hadn't grabbed my stupid wrist that damn hard.

I sigh. Maybe now that I won't be in such a toxic place I can stop that bad habit. I hope so. The others probably wouldn't be too happy to find out that their newest Keeper hated herself do much she cut her wrists on a nearly daily basis. 

I ponder over this while I change the bandages and pack a few items of clothing. When I finish, I shake my head to clear my thoughts and lay on my cot, hoping to get at least some sleep before the morning. I doubt I will.

My gaze wanders to the cot across the room from my own and my mind flashes back to the day I lost the friend I shared a womb with for nearly nine months.