Viktorija Adelyte Kazlauskas

Zolzaya had been on the streets for so long she had forgotten her birth name if she ever had one to begin with. She, herself, had picked the name Zolzaya after hearing a high-class merchant girl brag that it meant destiny. She would soon turn six on the second even day of the year, the Övliin tuil and she knew övöl was the worst season to sleep outside. Zolzaya had seen many children go to sleep and never wake up again, trying to wash up in frozen lakes only to fall in and be found during zun months: dead and blue. It was the reason she had to keep an eye on the other street children, they might want to steal the little bit of food she had found in the trash. Three such children stood in front of her; Elbeg, Enkh-Baatar and Tarkhan. They were the worst at stealing from children younger than them, seeing as the three were now entering puberty. Zolzaya wasn’t going to give up her food, she would fight tooth and nail. She stood as tall as she could, she might be short. But that helped her pinch food from food stands. “Just give up the food,” the tall boy scowled. Zolzaya didn’t bother saying anything and went after the tallest boy, Tarkhan’s, eyes. She acted fast enough that the other two boys couldn’t react in time. As soon as Tarkhan was down, she went after the others without a word. The three boys ran away from her, all of them covered in scratches, teeth marks and injuries around their eyes. “Weak,” she whispered, walking away from them, but she didn’t get very far before someone picked her up using the back of her deel. “It can’t be,” the man said, looking at her with black eyes. “Strong like them,” a woman said. “Already willing to fight at six years old, it’s happy days Soyolmaa,” the man said, “we might have found her.” “Put me down,” Zolzaya hissed. “What is your name?” Soyolmaa asked, patting his arm, “Dörvöd put her done.” “She’ll run,” Dörvöd said. “If you tell us your name, I have a sweet cake,” Soyolmaa said, taking something from a basket. It was a sweet cake. Zolzaya had never tried one; it wasn’t for street rats but for children who were loved by their parents. “Zolzaya,” she said when her feet touched the ground. “You must have a wonderful destiny, a bright future,” Soyolmaa said. “We’ll get you off the streets and into the Academy,” Dörvöd said. “Stop acting like the clan doesn’t have enough students for the Academy,” Soyolmaa said, poking him in the side. “The Batbayar Clan is strong.” “We could sponsor her,” Dörvöd said. Zolzaya stared at the two. She didn’t know what they were talking about. “But she looks like her,” Soyolmaa stated, biting her thumb. “She does,” Dörvöd said, nodding, “but it is safer for her to get her apartment, along with getting her a doctor’s appointment.” “She could be our niece,” Soyolmaa hissed. “Yes, but we do not know who killed her or why she was killed,” Dörvöd said, shaking his head, “we must do what we must to keep her safe.” Zolzaya turned to walk away from the two, but she was picked up by Dörvöd again. Holding her on his lower arm, she crossed her arms. “Nope,” Dörvöd said before walking out of the alleyway, “we’ve been looking for you for four years.”