Chapter 3: Lucky Girl
Three years had passed since Lyra, now known as Number 13, had arrived at the orphanage. She had grown accustomed to her new life, though the strange sensation of being trapped in a child’s body never truly left her. At first, the other children mocked her odd way of speaking and thoughtful manner, but over time, they came to appreciate the little girl who seemed wise beyond her years.
As the seasons changed, so did the orphanage. What was once a place of bleak despair had slowly transformed into a place of quiet hope—and much of that change was because of Lyra.
They still called her Number 13, but more often than not, they called her Luck.
It started with a simple idea. One spring afternoon, Niko had wandered into the small patch of wildflowers behind the orphanage, his hands full of broken twigs from firewood duty. Lyra, trailing behind him, noticed the vibrant colors of the blossoms. Reds, blues, and yellows dotted the patch like a tiny, secret rainbow.
“Pretty, huh?” Niko had said, plucking one and tucking it behind her ear.
That sparked something in Luck's mind. She remembered pressed flowers, delicate and beautiful, preserved between the pages of thick books. Maybe there’s a way to make something special out of them.
Together, they began experimenting. At first, they pressed the flowers between stones, then tucked them into pieces of cloth to protect them. Niko, who was quick with his hands, figured out how to braid the stems into simple bracelets. ShE suggested weaving thin strips of cloth to strengthen them.
One day, when a traveling merchant passed through the village, she approached him with a handful of the bracelets. With her small, determined voice, she asked if he would take a few to sell in the nearby town. Amused, he agreed.
When he returned a week later, the merchant handed Matron a small pouch of coins. “Your little flower girl’s got talent,” he chuckled.
The matron, skeptical at first, couldn’t deny the usefulness of the extra income. Soon, other merchants started asking for the bracelets. The older children joined in, collecting flowers and weaving under Lyra and Niko’s guidance.
With the newfound money, the orphanage’s situation improved significantly. They could afford better meals—soup with chunks of meat instead of thin gruel. Clothes were mended more often, and Matron even bought a cracked, secondhand mirror—a luxury none of them had ever seen before.
-
One afternoon, shee found herself alone in front of that mirror. It was propped up against the wall in the common room, the glass cloudy but clear enough to reflect her face. She had grown a bit taller, though she was still small for her age. Her dark hair, wavy and thick, framed her face in loose curls.
But what caught her attention were her eyes. They were a deep, vivid red—like freshly fallen maple leaves. She leaned closer, trying to make sense of it. In her old world, such eyes would have been rare, even unnatural. Yet here, no one seemed to mind. There were other children with unusual features—a boy with bright green eyes, a girl with flaming red hair.
“Hey, Luck!” Niko called from the doorway, grinning. “Stop staring at yourself. We’ve got another batch to finish before the merchant comes tomorrow.”
She glanced at him, her thoughts swirling. “Do you… think my eyes look strange?”
Niko blinked, then shrugged. “I dunno. They’re just your eyes. Doesn’t matter. You’re still you.”
That simple answer brought her a sense of relief. If Niko didn’t think it was strange, maybe it wasn’t.
She followed him outside, where a few other kids were already working on the next batch of bracelets. The scent of wildflowers filled the air, and Lyra couldn’t help but smile at how far they had come.
The children called her Luck because, ever since she arrived, the orphanage had begun to prosper. Even Matron seemed a little softer around the edges, less prone to snapping at the younger kids. She had also learned to embrace the name. Luck wasn’t just a number—it was a symbol of hope.
But she never forgot her purpose. The money helped, but it wasn’t enough. The orphanage still struggled compared to the wealthier parts of the village. She had heard stories from the older kids about how the orphanage used to have patrons—nobles who would donate funds and supplies. But over the years, those connections had faded, and the place had been all but forgotten.
If I can bring back the orphanage’s prestige, the nobles might notice. Lyra was certain that gaining the attention of influential people was the key to improving not only the orphanage’s conditions but also discovering more about herself and why she had been abandoned.
-
One evening, as they sat on the steps after a long day of crafting, she shared her thoughts with Niko. “What if we made something more than just bracelets? Something that would catch the attention of the nobles during the festival?”
Niko raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Something beautiful and different. Maybe a wreath with the pressed flowers, or a larger piece that tells a story. If it’s impressive enough, they might ask who made it. That could give us a chance to present it to a few nobles and maybe they can be the orphanage's patron. All of us can eat what we want and maybe some of us will be able to find a new family or even study at the academy.”
Niko’s eyes widened. “You really think it’ll work?” She gave him a determined nod. “It has to. It’s our best chance.”
They began planning that night, gathering flowers and scraps of fabric, weaving together ideas as they worked. The children, sensing the excitement, joined in, curious and eager to help.
As the stars twinkled overhead, Luck felt a sense of purpose grow within her. She had become Luck—more than just a number. She was the girl who brought change, who dared to dream beyond the orphanage walls.
Whatever fate had brought her to this world, Luck wasn’t just surviving—she was building something new. And she was determined to see it through.