Story Idea WIP: Cinderella Retelling

          My new sisters call me Cinderella. I’ve never before heard a name as appropriate as it is cruel. It has a sense of heat to it, like it’s burning into my soul, marking me even while it changes me. At least I’m sure it would feel that way if I had a soul to burn.

          My birth name is Ella, and I was one of the thousands of children born each year with the disorder Careo Animus. In essence, I was born without a soul. It’s a rare birth defect, but not so rare as to be unheard of. You probably know at least one person who was born with the disorder, although they are unlikely to admit it. There is a bit of a stigma around having been born soulless, but we have the same rights as anyone else. Well… Most of us do.

          I’m a bit different. I’m a Construct. A Singed Construct. When my parents learned about my genetic deficiency, they did not follow the law and adopt a soul from the waiting pool of corporal applicants. They took me home, and forged a brand new soul for me. A few microchips, a couple gears, a pinch of magic and voila! Instant soul.

          Only one problem. I’m not supposed to exist. Their plan, while brilliant in execution, lacked a thorough consideration of the consequences. They viewed the act of creation as a miracle. The world viewed it as murder. My body could no longer house a real soul, leaving in its place a pale and artificial imitation. Like so many other foolhardy parents, their crime was discovered, their souls were impounded, and their bodies given over to the next applicants. Unfortunately, the gift of corporal form came with some unwanted baggage; me.

          To mark my shame, and the damaged state of my soul, my entire wardrobe has been singed. I can’t even go to the market without everyone staring, whispering, judging. I would know. I am the one who goes to market every week. I am the one who does the laundry, cooks the meals, washes the dishes, and scrubs the floors. Along with anything else my new family demands. A Singed Construct has no rights. We are lucky to exist.

          I am going to change all that though. Today I’m making a gambit for my freedom, and, win or lose, I’m all in.


  1. This was a great short story very intreging. I want to know more!

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