Agathokakological

Life of Ariadne

WARNING

SLIGHT MENTION OF ABUSE AND NEGLECT IN THIS CHAPTER

Prologue

Chapter One

ARIADNE VENERA SOLEIL HAD ALWAYS BEEN ALONE, as long as she could remember. She had always had the misfortune of being around people who wasn't fond of her.

According to what she had been told, Ariadne was left as a baby of one year old on a porch of a couple living outside of a village located outside London. It would take a least a little more than an hour to reach London, assuming you had a carriage and a horse. That was the only way to reach the village in the first place when one was out of groceries.

Unlucky as Ariadne was, her foster parents weren't the foster parents of the year. For a while, the wife was kind to Ariadne, but when she was around 5 years old, she overheard the couple speak ill of her. And she decided that she couldn't trust anyone but herself..

Weird things had always happened to Ariadne. Like things moving on their own. The stove changed between being lit and shut. And doors and windows banging even though there was no sign of wind.

Unbeknownst to her, things like that had always happened ever since she was sheltered by the couple. Whenever she would sneeze as a baby the fire on the candles would either lit or distinguished. Or the the window curtains would open or close. 

Eventually Ariadne had grown tired of her so-called foster parent, so she decided to run away. The final straw happened a month prior to her escape plan.

The husband had yet again come home, drunk. Ariadne served him food per his order and he drunkenly commented that she was better off like her dead parents.

Anger bubbled inside of Ariadne and, one of the windows shattered and glass was everywhere. The husband grew angry and pushed Ariadne in anger. She fell on a big glass shard that was stuck in between the floorboards and slashed her clavicle. It earned her a deep scar and while recovering she carefully planned her escape.

7 year old Ariadne, managed, but barely, to escape the dreadful house. She was fortunate to catch the horse carriage that was headed out of the city.

She has been living in the streets of London, for a year. She have made herself a small space near the market of London where she set a small tent or in an abandoned alleyway. And of course she wasn't the only resident. But as long as she didn't bother them, others wouldn't bother her.

Through the first month, Ariadne somehow successfully managed to pickpocket, weird looking coins. Galleons, Knuts and Sickles. It didn't sit right with Ariadne and she called after the man she stole the money from and managed to convince him that he must have dropped it.

She had a bad feeling t he could tell that she was lying, but didn't say anything about it. He sounded more impressed by her and revealed if a petty criminal was pickpocketed by a amateur Niffler, she had a bright future ahead of her. After introducing himself as namely, Dung, he left and that was the last she ever heard from him.

Ariadne usually looked forward to the cold months, especially when it was snowing, but that was not the case that year. Wet streets. No snow. No feeling of tranquility. No quietness. Less food.

Other than pick-pocketing, she had to rely on stealing food from stalls. She had become good at making things move at her will, so occasionally she let a apple roll her way. It worked until she took the chance to steal some bread. The man who sold bread at the stall was busy with attending to customers, and some were waiting behind them.