The Broken Kaolin

Word Count: 1024 Average Read Time: 5:08 Time Finished: Early Morning on Sixth Day, Post Writer’s Block

A small benefit of the Kaolin being so fragile was how quickly physical pain passed.

Tale lay in the middle of the road, half embedded in the mud beneath her. There was no pain anymore, that had lasted until she’d passed out. When she woke, she felt fine… though she had not yet worked up the courage to actually move her body and inspect the damage. To do so, she would have acknowledge the extent to which she’d have to be fixed up.

What happened? Who did this to me?

These were the thoughts she let dominate her mind instead. All she knew for sure was a horse had knocked her on her back, and then there was a share pain in her upper arm, near her shoulder. She listened carefully, holding her breath, to check her surroundings.

There was no horse nearby. They must have left.

Enough, then, Tale told herself, as she reached back with her arms to push herself up out of the muddy road. If another cart comes, they might see me even less, lying in the road like this. She felt her left hand sink into the mud, but could not feel her right…

And she toppled over as she pushed with all of her strength. In front of her face, just a few feet away, was her right arm: Dainty fingers and all, but no longer hers, as she could not feel it. She could feel the joy drain from her face and chest as she realized her plight.

Full breaks happened, from time to time, among the Kaolin. They were certainly not common, though, and no one Tale knew had ever suffered through one. Her left hand shot to where her right shoulder… And felt the hard, gritty surface left by such an ordeal as a broken limb.

She began to sob.

Retrieving the arm now separated from its proper place, she pushed herself up with just her left side. With as much grace as she could manage, she held it to her in the truest of sorrows.

Fixing this kind of damage required money. Money to pay the Kaolin Forger to work on her, and even find one who could do so. Money to live off of without a second arm, as she could certainly not serve others now. And most of all, money to buy all of the expensive supplies she needed to use in her recovery process, lest the joint become brittle… and break again.

This accident, this beautiful raining morning, would serve to dictate the events for the rest of Tale’s year, perhaps even the rest of her life. After all, she was Kaolin, not a simple doll or statue: Kaolin were alive. And if her arm was further damaged, or lost… well, she mustn’t think about that. She simply needed to get it fixed.

Fantas was her home, but it held little hope for her now, unless she wanted to take to the streets and beg. She would have to find some way to gain the coin she needed. Perhaps she could plead with her Kilnmates, who lived 3 weeks South in the village of Caron.

She began to walk back to her house, to clean herself up and gather some things. They had not spoken in many years, but she felt as though she had no other choice but to ask for help. If she had an address… and an arm… she might have written them, to have expedited the process. But instead, she resigned herself to travel South, to regain that which had been taken from her.

She held her arm tight; it was the most important thing she owned, now.

Much more important than her collection of scarves, though that had also been damaged in the accident. She could easily see that her favorite one, the yellow one with the pattern on the end, could no longer be called a part of that illustrious group. Though… the stained and dirty length of fabric might still have a use, so long as she could make it home.

Which happened without much event. A small pleasure she was everlessly thankful for.

She modified her ruined scarf to hold her arm securly and tightly on her back. She tested it (with a large, heavy tuber in place of her arm) in various ways: Jumps, falls, lunges, and the like. After an hour of tweaking, she was satisfied that it was up to the task, and began to put together her effects.

Working with just one arm was extremely disorienting to Tale. The Kaolin’s carefully practiced and planned movement’s were a boon in most situations: They allowed grace and efficiency where there would otherwise simply be squalor and sloth. But take away a hand (let alone an entire limb!) and Tale’s practiced movements became as useless as a suit of Kaolin clothing.

Things which used to take seconds, such as folding a cloth, were now multiple minute marathons. And things which used to take minutes, like untying her nice leather messenger bag with the pretty petal stitching around its flap, were impossible until she resigned herself to using her teeth.

Fortunately, other than gold, a few bits of food, and (of course) her arm, she did not need to take too much with her. But it was vital that she not forget anything: Her time was short, as short as she could possibly make it, before she needed to be back to stay.

She was placing her lucky charm (A deck of Kaolin-style playing cards, which she had had since she was a very fresh child, with a yellow-sun back) into her leather shoulder bag when she heard an odd banging noise.

Bang Bang Bang.

She stopped in her tracks to look over her ruined shoulder.

Bang Bang Bang.

She wondered what it was, and what it could mean. And then she remembered a little Otherian oddity that fit with this situation. One she had nearly forgotten in the tragedy of this bittersweet day.

And she rushed, or as much as Kaolin ever do, to answer the knock at the door.

The Fall of the Kaolin

Words: 897 Average Reading Time: 4:30 Time Completed: Second Day of Normal Writing

The sounds of the rain were what woke her.

She sat up with a start, never one to be able to slowly rouse herself from a slumber. Her painted sapphire eyes fell upon the open window, which sat just a bit to the left of the foot of her bed: Enough that, should she want to, she could look through it. But she could also completely block it out, if the mood struck her,

Today was a perfect rainy day: Enough of a storm that rain fell in steady streams from her roof in addition to the normal unobstructed droplets, but not so much that the sky was completely darkened. The clouds, just South of a perfectly porcelain white, loomed heavy and dripping above her. It was the kind of day that she savored.

Gingerly, she inched to the side of her bed. Some of the Kaolin would take 10 minutes for the next part, just to ensure that there would be no mishaps so early in the morning. After all, with skin as hard and as fragile as porcelain, fixing a chip or a scuff was not a simple task, requiring time— and money. Taleandory had been told that by her mother many a morning, as she was learning what it meant to be a Kaolin. But "Tale," as she called herself, was never one to take such caution.

Especially on a day so perfectly rainy.

She pushed herself out of bed in one fluid motion, hearing her feet hit the ground with a loud clink. No pain. And she was standing, nearly ready for the day.

Tale was not a woman so enamoured with fashion that she'd take a lot of time to dress herself up. But, she wished she were, some days. And on those days, she had a small assortment of sashes and scarves which she liked to choose from. The most basic form of Kaolin cosmetics, a simple bolt of cloth tied here or there could lend that hint of care and prettiness she yearned for.

She sifted through her collection quickly. Today was definitely a yellow day, Tale thought to herself. And there was the one she wanted: Bright yellow with a small pattern on the edge.

Her small, dainty fingers tied it in a soft knot around her neck, letting it hang down behind her. She looked in her mirror. She looked good. Time to set out for the day.

Tale went to her door- unhandled, as all Kaolin doors were, and double hinged to open out both ways. When Others would ask them about that, often with concerns for safety or practicality, the Kaolin response was elegant and simple: "Why would You make something that had the chance to hurt You more complicated than it needed to be?" A door's presence already conveyed the desire of privacy. If the Others (or another Kaolin even, at times) were not respectful of that desire, then what good would a lock or a handle do?

Tale went to her door and softly pushed it open, stepping through. She felt the first few drops of rain land on her face, the first cool breeze caress the delicate curves of her body, the first footprint of soft earth give beneath her feet as she walked. She sighed a contented sigh, and began to hum an Ängsalvor tune, one of her favorites. Closing her eyes, she continued to trace the carefully measured steps to the edge of her household, as she did each morning before heading to the square.

She worked in a restaurant, serving people drinks and food just a hair slower than the others, but with much more grace and poise. It came naturally to a Kaolin to be so; Any undue haste could spell disaster quickly when Your body was so fragile. The Others could practice making calculated and precise movements, but a Kaolin had to live it.

In the distance, a small clap of thunder rumbled. Though she loved it, she hurried her steps just a small amount. It would be difficult to work if she got herself too wet, for drying herself off was very difficult.

She rounded the bend which led from her little one floor cottage to the main road of Fantas, the town it which she lived. Each step sounded with a smack of grasping mud now, the road slick with rain which had been falling for hours. To Tale, this reminded her of porridge, which she liked to play with before eating.

Smack, Smack, Smack.

Her footsteps were as regular as the ticking of a clock.

Smack, Smack, Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Smack, Clop Clop, Smack, Clop Clop.

Just as she noticed something else was on the road, a runaway team of horses led a caravan wagon directly overtop of her. As she fell, she felt a brief but glorious surge of energy, as if for once she might be alright even though this was against all she had ever learned about herself.

And then, with her face in the mud, she felt the sharply intense pain of her left arm being crushed beneath the wagon's wheels. She could feel a scream building in her chest, but then stars were all around her, and everything went black.