Episode 3: The Girl With No Place
Sofia carried the newborn girl through the broken paths of SameLine. The villagers followed behind her—not to help, but to stare, whisper, and judge.
Mia slept peacefully in Sofia's arms, unaware that her life had already been marked by fear and rumours.
Sofia entered her small wooden house on the hill. Inside, it smelled of herbs, smoke, and warm blankets. She placed the baby on her bed and gently touched her forehead.
"You survived a storm," Sofia whispered. "That means your life has meaning."
Outside, the whispers grew:
"She shouldn't stay here…"
"She is dangerous…"
"What if she brings another storm?"
Sofia stepped out, holding Mia tightly.
"Enough!" she yelled, surprising everyone.
"She is just a child. Not a monster."
But fear is stronger than truth.
Even as the village rebuilt after the storm, Mia grew up hearing cold words behind her back.
When she was one, children refused to play near her.
When she was three, people pulled their children away when she walked past.
When she was five, adults muttered:
"She's the storm child…"
"Her parents died because of her…"
"She is cursed…"
Mia didn't understand.
She only knew people stared at her with fear instead of love.
Life With Sofia...
Sofia tried her best.
She taught Mia to fetch water, to cook simple meals, to clean the house, and to speak kindly even when others were not kind to her.
But the poverty was heavy.
They didn't have much food.
Their clothes were old and torn.
Mia's hair was messy.
Her feet were often dusty and bare.
Still… she smiled sometimes.
She called Sofia "Grandma-ma."
She would sit by the fire and ask:
"Grandma-ma, why do people look at me like I am different?"
Sofia always answered the same way, because she feared the truth would break the child's heart:
"They do not know you, Mia. When people do not know someone, they fear them."
Mia accepted the answer, but deep inside, she felt a sadness she didn't know how to explain.
The Day the Fruit Seller Shouted....
When Mia turned ten, Sofia sent her to buy some fruit.
"Be polite," Sofia warned. "And do not stay too long outside."
Mia walked with soft steps through the village, her long dark hair blowing with the wind. Her clothes were old, her face a little dirty from chores, but her eyes were bright
beautiful despite everything.
When she reached the fruit stall, the seller frowned.
"What do you want?" he snapped.
Mia spoke softly, "Um… some fruit, please."
He crossed his arms. "Ten coins."
Mia's eyes widened. "But yesterday it was three…"
"New price," he said sharply. "For you."
People nearby laughed.
Mia held her small bag tighter.
"That's not fair…" she whispered.
The seller leaned closer. "Life isn't fair for storm children."
Just then, three men approached the stall. Their steps were slow, their expressions serious. They had overheard everything.
One of them grabbed the seller by the shirt.
"Give the girl the fruit," he growled.
The seller didn't argue. He shoved the fruit toward Mia with shaking hands.
Mia bowed her head. "Thank you, gentlemen."
But the men weren't done.
"You must repay us," one said.
"How?" Mia asked innocently.
"Come with us," the second man said, grabbing her wrist. "We'll show you the job."
Mia followed them around the corner, thinking they wanted her to carry something or clean something.
But then… their hands changed.
Their eyes changed.
Their smiles changed.
Fear filled her.
"Don't touch me!" Mia cried.
Her voice echoed.
And then
The wind rose.
Dust circled.
The sky darkened.
A twisting wind formed between the houses.
A tornado.
It slammed into the men, throwing them sideways like toys.
People screamed.
Animals ran.
The wind grew stronger, pulling everything toward it.
Mia was in the center, trapped, spinning, screaming.
"Grandma-ma! Help me!"
Sofia appeared, her eyes wide with fear
but not at Mia.
At the tornado.
She saw it take Mia into the air, lifting her higher and higher above SameLine.
Sofia turned her face away.
Not because she didn't care.
But because she finally understood:
The prophecy had come for Mia.
And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
The tornado carried Mia away
over hills,
over villages,
over dry lands…
Mia cried until her voice was gone.
And then
The tornado dropped her gently on a land poorer than anything she had ever seen.
Dust.
Dry soil.
No water.
No crops.
No hope.
A place where people ate three times a week.
A place where children drank water only twice a day.
A place forgotten by the world.
This was the Village of Dustfall.
And Mia…
was now alone.