Paola sat in the back of the cart, the gentle rocking motion of the wheels over the dirt road a soothing contrast to the storm of thoughts in her mind. She couldn’t shake the events of the last few days—dying, almost handing over her most prized possessions to Selene, and realizing that she wasn’t as invincible as she had come to believe. The weight of these thoughts pressed down on her, making it hard to stay present, to focus on anything but the spiral of her own mind.
She let out a small sigh, trying to clear her head. Just as she was about to slip further into her thoughts, she felt a soft nudge on her arm. Paola looked up, startled, to see Poca sitting beside her, an easy smile on her lips.
Poca had a habit of pulling Paola out of her reverie without even trying. She was... odd. Paola had come to that conclusion slowly, watching Poca interact with the world around her. She was outgoing, incredibly friendly, but there was something off about her sense of personal space. Poca seemed oblivious to boundaries, often touching Paola lightly or leaning in close without noticing the subtle cues that most people would pick up on.
But it wasn’t uncomfortable, not exactly. It was just... different. Poca’s touch wasn’t charged with any kind of intent. It was like she truly didn’t understand that not everyone was as naturally tactile as she was. Paola found herself both charmed and a little overwhelmed by it. It was clear that Poca was good at getting along with people, but she didn’t always seem to understand when someone needed space, or when they were lost in thought.
Paola had been spending a lot of time in her own head lately, something she realized wasn’t necessarily healthy. The fact that she had died—really, truly died—was still sinking in. If she wasn’t a T’shal’ara, whatever that was, she would be gone. Forever. Her slippers would have ended up with Selene, and who knows what would have happened then. It was terrifying to think about how close she had come to oblivion, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel a strange numbness to it all. Maybe all those deaths during her training with Jester had dulled her fear of dying. Maybe she had started to think of herself as immortal, invincible.
“Paola?” Poca’s voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present.
“Hm?” Paola blinked, focusing on Poca’s face. She realized she had been staring at nothing, lost in her thoughts again.
“You were off in your own little world zere,” Poca said with a gentle laugh. “What’s on your mind?”
Paola hesitated, unsure of how much to share. She still hadn’t told Poca that she was from Earth, instead letting her believe she was from Solaria, from the mythical city of Helios on the other side of the world. But even that lie was a half-truth. She had lived outside of the city, a simple life as a farmer. It was mundane, repetitive, and ultimately unfulfilling. But it was the truth, or at least, the closest to it she could get without revealing too much.
“I was just... thinking about home,” Paola finally said, her voice soft.
“Helios?” Poca asked, her eyes lighting up with interest. “You didn’t really want to talk about it last night.”
Paola nodded slowly. “Yeah. But... I didn’t actually live within the city. I was a farmer, outside of the city walls. My life was really simple. Just... repetitive. I did the same things every day, you know? Get up, farm, sleep, and then do it all over again the next day.”
Poca’s expression softened with understanding. “Zat sounds... peaceful, in a way. But lonely too.”
Paola let out a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah, it was. Peaceful and lonely. I didn’t have much to live for back there. Sure, I had my family, but beyond that... I was just going through the motions.”
“Zat’s when it happened, ze summoning spell gone wrong?” Poca asked gently.
Paola looked down, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on her lap. The memory of the summoning spell—her fabricated story—hung heavy in the air, a necessary lie to protect the truth of her origins. But as she sat there with Poca, the weight of all her secrets pressed down on her, and she felt the urge to share something real, something genuine.
“You know,” Paola began softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “I never really got to live, even before all of this. My father... he was a good man, a caring man, but he was also... controlling. I grew up on a farm, far away from the city, and I spent most of my days working the fields, tending to the crops, taking care of the animals. It was a simple life, a repetitive one, but it was safe. And he made sure I stayed there, on that farm, away from the rest of the world.”
Poca’s eyes softened with understanding as she listened, her hand still resting on Paola’s shoulder. “It sounds like 'e was trying to protect you, in 'is own way. But zat kind of life... it can be suffocating, no?”
Paola nodded, her gaze distant as she recalled the days spent under the watchful eye of her father. “Yeah, it was. I didn’t realize it at the time, though. I thought that was just how life was supposed to be—wake up, work the fields, eat, sleep, repeat. He didn’t want me to see the world beyond the farm, and I didn’t question it. Not until I got older, and I started wondering what else was out there.”
Poca’s fingers tightened slightly on Paola’s shoulder, a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s normal to want to see more, to experience more. But when you’ve been sheltered for so long... stepping out into the world can be overwhelming, even dangerous.”
Paola looked up at Poca, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and longing. “I guess that’s why I’ve been feeling so lost. I wanted to find a purpose, to be more than just a girl on a farm. But now that I’m out here, it’s like I don’t know what I’m doing. I keep making mistakes, getting myself into situations I can’t handle.”
Poca nodded thoughtfully, her expression growing more serious as she shifted the conversation. “You know, Paola, what you’re describing... it reminds me of ze struggles zat women have faced in Udanara for centuries. In many ways, your experience mirrors zat of countless women who 'ave been kept in the dark, sheltered from the world, only to find themselves thrust into it with little preparation.”
Paola frowned slightly, not fully understanding the connection. “What do you mean?”
Poca took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she began to speak. “In the ancient and medieval periods of Udanara, women were largely regarded as property. Zey were confined to domestic duties, childbearing, and servitude. Across much of the world, women had few, if any, legal rights, and zeir lives were often controlled by zeir male relatives or masters. It was a system zat was deeply ingrained in Udanaran society, perpetuated by cultural traditions, religious beliefs, and patriarchal governance.”
Paola listened intently, her brow furrowing as she took in Poca’s words. She had never really thought about the history of women in Udanara, or in any world, for that matter. Her life on Earth had been... relatively sheltered. She had known about sexism, of course, but it had never affected her directly in the way Poca was describing.
“Women were expected to be obedient and submissive,” Poca continued, her voice taking on a somber tone. “And zose who defied zese norms were often punished severely. In many regions, women were traded as commodities, married off for political alliances, or kept as concubines. Education was rarely offered to women, and zey were barred from holding positions of power or influence.”
Paola felt a chill run down her spine. “That’s... awful.”
Poca nodded, her eyes darkening with the weight of history. “It was. And in many places, it still is. In most provinces, laws explicitly restricted women’s freedoms. Zey couldn’t own property, participate in governance, or make decisions about zeir own lives. Zey were at the mercy of ze men around zem.”
Paola felt a surge of anger, a deep-seated frustration at the injustice of it all. “But... things have changed, right? I mean, you’re here, and you’re free.”
Poca’s expression softened slightly, but there was still a sadness in her eyes. “Oui, zings 'ave changed. But it’s been a slow path to freedom. Ze movement for women’s rights in Udanara began slowly, driven by isolated acts of rebellion and ze influence of a few progressive cities like Helios.”
Paola perked up at the mention of Helios. “Helios was different?”
Poca nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Oui. Helios was always an outlier in zat regard. From its founding, it recognized ze equal worth of women and men. Zat was largely due to ze city’s reverence for ze sun goddess Solara, who was depicted as a powerful and wise female deity. Ze city’s culture was deeply intertwined with ze worship of Solara, and it held zat women, like ze sun, were sources of life and vitality.”
Paola felt a flicker of hope. “So... Helios was a haven for women?”
Poca nodded again. “Yes. It became a place where women seeking refuge from oppression in other parts of ze world could go. Over time, ze success and prosperity of Helios began to inspire movements in other regions. Women in ozer cities and provinces started to demand more rights, pointing to Helios as a model of what could be achieved.”
Paola felt a sense of pride, even though she had never actually lived in Helios. It was strange, feeling connected to a place she had never been, but it also gave her a sense of belonging. “That’s... really inspiring.”
“It is,” Poca agreed. “But it wasn’t easy. Zese movements were often met with resistance, and progress was slow. Ze most significant changes began to occur during ze ‘Era of Awakening,’ a period marked by widespread social and political reform across Udanara.”
Paola was completely absorbed in the story now, her earlier worries momentarily forgotten. “What happened during the Era of Awakening?”
Poca’s eyes brightened with the memory of history. “Women began to organize in secret, forming sisterhoods zat advocated for zeir rights. Zese sisterhoods were often supported by enlightened men who recognized ze value of women’s contributions beyond zeir traditional roles. Together, zey pushed for legal reforms, education
for girls, and ze right for women to participate in public life. Some of zese sisterhoods even took up arms, fighting alongside male rebels in ze numerous uprisings zat shook Udanara during zis period.”
Paola felt a surge of admiration for those women, for their courage and determination. “Did they succeed?”
Poca’s expression grew more serious. “In some places, yes. In ozer places, no. Ze rights gained were often tenuous and varied greatly by region. In some areas, women achieved significant freedoms, including ze right to own property, choose zeir husbands, and receive education. But in more conservative regions, like parts of ze Seracian Sands and Tarnstead, women remained largely oppressed, zeir lives dictated by strict patriarchal laws.”
Paola felt a pang of frustration. “So... it’s still not equal everywhere?”
Poca shook her head. “Non, it isn’t. Today, ze status of women in Udanara is a patchwork, with significant disparities depending on ze region. In progressive cities like Helios, women enjoy near-equal rights to men, participating fully in all aspects of society, including governance, commerce, and ze military. But many parts of Udanara remain deeply patriarchal, with women still fighting for basic rights.”
Paola felt a deep sadness settle in her chest. “That’s... so unfair. How can it still be like that?”
Poca placed a comforting hand on Paola’s shoulder. “It’s ze way of ze world, Paola. Change is slow, and zere are always those who resist it. But zere are also those who fight for it, who push for a better future.”
Paola looked down at her hands, feeling a mix of emotions. “I guess... I never really thought about it like that. I’ve always been so focused on my own struggles, I never stopped to think about how much worse it could be.”
Poca smiled gently. “Zat’s normal, Paola. We all get caught up in our own lives, our own battles. But it’s important to remember zat we’re not alone. Zere are others out zere fighting zeir own battles too.”
Paola nodded, her thoughts heavy with the weight of what Poca had told her. She had never really considered herself sheltered, but now she realized how narrow her perspective had been. There was so much more to the world, so much she didn’t know, didn’t understand. And yet, here she was, in a place where she could make a difference, where she could find her purpose.
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As the cart rolled along the dusty road, the conversation between Paola and Poca deepened. The rhythmic creak of the wooden wheels against the sandy ground provided a soothing backdrop to their exchange, the midday sun casting long shadows over the landscape.
Paola’s thoughts drifted back to a conversation she had with Ayla back at Lady Marcelline's estate. The memory of Lady Marcelline herself brought up questions that Paola had never really considered before. She turned to Poca, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
“Poca, how does someone like Lady Marcelline hold so much power in a place like Udanara? I mean, she’s clearly a powerful figure, but… how does it work?”
Poca glanced at Paola, her expression thoughtful. “Lady Marcelline is a rare example of a woman in power, but even she operates within a system zat is largely controlled by men. Her power is real, but it’s also a façade in many ways. She wields influence, yes, but zere are limits to what she can do without stepping on the wrong toes.”
Paola frowned, thinking back to something Ayla had mentioned once. “Ayla told me something similar about the royal family. She said, ‘The Queen is really running the show. King Alderic might be the face, but Queen Mirella holds the true power.’”
Poca nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered Paola’s words. “Oui, zat’s often how it works. On ze surface, it might seem like ze men are in charge, but zere are women who pull the strings behind ze scenes. But even zen, zere’s a delicate balance. Women like Queen Mirella or Lady Marcelline know zey must navigate a world zat’s been built to keep zem in check.”
Paola’s thoughts churned as she began to see the layers of power and control that shaped the world she now found herself in. It was all so carefully constructed, a system where women could hold power but were still constrained by the invisible boundaries of a patriarchal society.
She recalled another conversation she had with Ayla, this one about her armor. Paola had always been struck by how revealing Ayla’s armor was—practically a bikini. It had never sat right with her, and now, with Poca’s insight, she felt a deepening sense of understanding.
“Poca,” Paola began, hesitating slightly, “I was talking to Ayla once about her armor. It’s so... revealing. I didn’t really get it at first, but now I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to it than just, you know, fashion.”
Poca’s expression darkened, a serious look crossing her face. “Ah, Nymph armor. It’s one of ze more insidious forms of control over women in Udanara. While men are typically clad in full body armor, designed for maximum protection in battle, women’s armor is often scant, exposing much of zeir bodies. Zey say it allows for greater agility, freedom of movement, and zat women’s magic or inherent abilities provide additional protection. But zat’s just a convenient excuse.”
Paola felt a knot of anger form in her chest as she listened to Poca’s words. “So it’s really just another way to control women, to keep them vulnerable?”
Poca nodded, her gaze hardening as she spoke. “Oui, exactly. By forcing women to fight in revealing attire, ze system reinforces ze idea zat a woman’s primary value lies in her appearance, even in ze heat of battle. It’s a way to keep women in zeir place, to remind zem zat zey are always being watched, always judged.”
Paola felt a surge of frustration and empathy for Ayla and other women like her. “That's fucked up,” she muttered. “And yet, Ayla just wears it like it doesn’t bother her.”
“Many women in Udanara have learned to embrace it as a symbol of defiance,” Poca explained. “Zey turn ze idea on its head by demonstrating zeir prowess despite ze limitations imposed on zem. But for others, it’s a constant source of frustration and anger, a visible sign of how far we still have to go in our fight for true equality.”
Paola nodded, her mind swirling with these new realizations. The world she was in now was so different from Earth, yet the struggles were painfully familiar. Women here, like women back home, were still fighting to be seen for more than just their appearances, still pushing against the boundaries that society tried to impose on them.
As the cart rolled along the road, the midday sun casting long shadows over the landscape, Paola couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling in her mind. The conversation with Poca had opened her eyes to the harsh realities of the world she was now a part of. The history of women in Udanara, the hidden power dynamics, the control exerted through something as seemingly simple as armor—it all weighed heavily on her, pressing down like an unseen burden.
The more she thought about it, the more her mind raced, spiraling into the depths of this world’s injustices. How far did they have to go? How many women were still suffering under the weight of a system designed to keep them in their place? The idea that even the strongest women, like Ayla or Lady Marcelline, had to navigate a world built to control them filled Paola with a sense of unease, almost dread. How could they ever truly be free in a place like this? And what did that mean for her? For Ayla?
Her thoughts spun, each new realization leading to another, until it felt as though the weight of it all was too much to bear. This world was so different from Earth, and yet, in many ways, it was hauntingly familiar. The struggle for equality, for respect, was a battle she knew all too well, but here, it felt magnified, as though the stakes were even higher.
As her mind raced, she found herself thinking of Oso. The little cub, her familiar, who had somehow become her connection to Selene. She could feel him getting closer, the bond between them pulling her in his direction, like a compass guiding her through the chaos. The sensation was both comforting and unsettling. Was he still with Selene? She couldn’t be sure. But their bond was undeniable, and it was leading her somewhere—closer and closer.
Paola stared out at the road ahead, her thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty. What would she find when she caught up to Selene? And what did it mean that Oso was still with her? Was it a sign that Selene wasn’t as lost as she seemed, or was it something else entirely? The questions gnawed at her, and for once, she had no answers.
The cart continued its steady journey, the wheels creaking rhythmically against the sandy ground. The landscape around them, a strange mix of desert and forest, sprawled out like a tapestry of contradictions. Patches of grass and clusters of trees broke up the endless dunes, creating a scene that was both surreal and strangely beautiful. It was as if the Southwest and Pacific Northwest of the Americas had collided, merging their distinct landscapes into something new and uncharted.
But even the beauty of the land couldn’t quiet the storm in Paola’s mind. The more she thought, the more questions arose, and the more uncertain she felt about the future. This world was complex, layered with challenges she had never anticipated, and the path ahead seemed more daunting than ever.
Paola leaned back against the cart, her gaze drifting upward to the clear blue sky. The sun was still high, but it had begun its slow descent, signaling the approach of evening. She could feel the warmth of its rays on her skin, but it did little to soothe the turmoil within her.
She closed her eyes, trying to find some sense of peace, but all she could think about was the journey ahead—the challenges she would face, the decisions she would have to make, and the uncertain future that awaited her. The weight of it all pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.
Paola opened her eyes to the vast blue sky above her, the endless expanse of it a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The sun was still high, though beginning its slow descent, and the warmth of its rays on her skin should have been comforting. Instead, it only seemed to highlight the strangeness of her situation, the surreal nature of everything she had been through.
She found herself reflecting, once again, on the life she had left behind. It was hard to believe that she had actually died—not just once, but twice now. The first time, when she left Earth behind, still felt like a dream, a hazy memory of something that shouldn’t have happened. But it did. She had died, and somehow, that death had brought her to this strange world of Udanara.
And now, she had died again, crushed by that monstrous golem, only to be reborn with eight lives left. The thought of it made her shiver. How could she be so cavalier about something so terrifying? She had laughed off her first death, and even now, she found herself brushing aside the enormity of what had happened. But deep down, the reality of it was gnawing at her, a constant, unsettling reminder that she was living on borrowed time.
She needed to understand what had happened to her, what it meant to be a T'shal'ara, but the more she thought about it, the more questions arose. How was she supposed to learn about this world when there was no internet, no easy way to access information? Was she supposed to go find a library, dig through ancient books, and hope to stumble upon the answers she needed? The idea seemed archaic, but what other choice did she have?
Paola shook her head, feeling the beginnings of another spiral, another descent into the overwhelming thoughts that threatened to consume her. But just as she felt herself teetering on the edge, Poca’s voice cut through her thoughts, casual and curious.
“So, Paola,” Poca began, glancing at her with a playful smile, “besides going on adventures and getting into trouble, what else do you like to do?”
Paola blinked, the question catching her off guard. She hesitated, then laughed softly, the sound almost surprising to her ears. “What do I like to do? Honestly, it’s been so long since I thought about that.”
Poca tilted her head, her mismatched eyes gleaming with interest. “Surely you must have hobbies, non? Something you enjoy zat doesn’t involve fighting monsters or, you know, dying?”
Paola couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Well, I guess… I like to play guitar. I’m actually a bard, believe it or not.”
Poca’s eyes widened in surprise, and she clapped her hands together in delight. “A bard? Zat’s wonderful! I ‘ave always wanted to learn to play guitar, but I never got ze chance.” She reached into a small dimensional bag lying just out of sight and pulled out a worn but beautiful guitar, holding it out to Paola with a smile. “Maybe you could play something for me?”
Paola stared at the guitar, her heart skipping a beat. She had only played the other day but now... and with everything on her mind, she wasn’t sure she was ready. But there was something in Poca’s smile, something warm and inviting, that made her reach out and take the instrument with a mix of hesitation and curiosity.
“Just play whatever comes to mind, from ze heart,” Poca said softly, her voice encouraging but gentle.
Paola nodded, feeling the weight of the guitar in her hands, the familiar shape of it grounding her in the moment. She strummed the strings lightly, wincing as the sound came out off-key. The guitar was out of tune, and as she adjusted it, she realized it wasn’t in the best condition. But there was still something beautiful about it, something that resonated with her current state of mind.
With a deep breath, Paola let her fingers move over the strings, finding a rhythm that felt right. She closed her eyes, letting the music guide her, and as she played, the words began to flow, a song born from the depths of her heart, a reflection of everything she had been through.
The melody was slow, mournful, and the lyrics were meant to reach out across the void, to her home, to a place she was unsure she'd ever return.
In this land so far from home, I wander all alone,
Through fields of gold and skies of blue, my heart is not my own.
The roads are long and winding, with dangers at each turn,
I long for days of peace and love, for which my heart does yearn.
I think of you, my family, so distant and so dear,
Your faces haunt my memories, your voices in my ear.
I miss the warmth of hearth and home, the laughter and the light,
The simple joys of everyday, now lost in endless night.
The stars above, they guide my way, but their light feels cold and far,
A reminder of the world I've left, beneath a distant star.
I tread this path, a wanderer, with shadows at my side,
A soul adrift in foreign lands, where secrets often hide.
The battles fought, the blood I've shed, they weigh upon my soul,
I never asked for sword or shield, or for this endless toll.
The fight to live, the fight to breathe, it tears my heart apart,
I yearn for peace, for gentle days, to mend my weary heart.
The winds they whisper in my ear, tales of lands unknown,
Of mountains high and rivers deep, where I must journey on.
But all I want is to return, to where my heart belongs,
To hold you close and never part, to sing our old, sweet songs.
Each step I take, each breath I draw, brings memories of home,
Of sunlit mornings, moonlit nights, where once I used to roam.
I dream of fields of green and gold, of skies so wide and clear,
Of all the love I left behind, of all that I hold dear.
In this land so far from home, a stranger I remain,
A traveler on a weary road, beset by fear and pain.
Yet in my heart, your love remains, a beacon in the dark,
A light to guide my wandering soul, a never-fading spark.
So here I sing, my heart laid bare, beneath the morning sky,
A song of longing, love, and hope, a heartfelt, lonely cry.
May these notes reach across the void, and find you where you are,
To tell you that I love you still, though I wander far.
As the last notes of the song faded into the air, Paola slowly opened her eyes, her fingers still resting lightly on the strings. The silence that followed was almost deafening, and she felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her—sadness, longing, but also a strange sense of peace.
Poca was staring at her, her mismatched eyes wide with amazement, as if she had just witnessed something extraordinary. “Paola,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, “zat was… magnifique. I ‘ave no words.”
Even Carter, who had been so eerily silent, had turned his head to stare at Paola, his hollow eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her shiver. The usually unsettling presence seemed almost… intrigued.
Paola looked down at the guitar in her hands, feeling the warmth of the wood against her skin. She had lost herself in the music, in the words that had poured out of her, and for a brief moment, she had forgotten everything else—her worries, her fears, her doubts. The song had come from a place deep within her, a place she hadn’t touched in so long.
“I…” Paola began, but her voice faltered. She wasn’t sure what to say. The song had been about home, about missing a place she knew she could never return to. It had been about her loss, her grief, and the painful acceptance of her new reality.
Poca reached out, placing a gentle hand on Paola’s arm. “You ‘ave a gift, Paola. A true gift. Don’t ever forget zat.”
Paola smiled faintly, the weight of her thoughts still heavy on her shoulders. “Thank you, Poca. I needed that.”
The cart continued its journey, the landscape around them shifting as the midday sun began its descent from its highest point in the sky. The sandy terrain, dotted with patches of grass and clusters of trees, stretched out like a beautiful yet strange dream. It was as if the Southwest and Pacific Northwest had collided, creating a landscape that was both comforting and surreal.
As Paola looked out at the road ahead, she felt the familiar tug of Oso, the bond between them growing stronger as they drew closer. She couldn’t tell if he was still with Selene, but their connection was undeniable, pulling them in each other’s direction.
Her thoughts were a tangled mess of emotions and questions, but as the cart rumbled along, Paola knew one thing for sure—she had to keep moving forward, no matter what. There was so much she didn’t understand, so much she needed to learn, but for now, she would take things one step at a time, one day at a time.
She looked up at the sky, the blue expanse offering no answers, only the quiet reassurance that life would continue, with or without her understanding. And as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the landscape, Paola found herself lost in thought once more, the road ahead both daunting and full of possibilities.