“So as you may already know, I lived previously in the slums. I could be considered one of the better off and even maybe a top dog in the slums, but the slums at the end are still slums. There was a saying that often went around. If you cry, you die. Short, sweet and simple. Crying was seen as a sign of hopelessness and weakness. It was what you did when you were at your ropes end and had nothing left you could do. You walk past a kid crying the first day; he would be gone by the second. Either sold off as a slave, beaten to death in some nook or who knows what.”

Shiara shifted around a bit before settling into a more comfortable position to continue her story telling. “When I first started living in the slums after my parent’s death I remember just quietly sitting there. I was in a state of shock and utter disbelief. My parents just never showed up that night. Or the next. Or the next. I thought I was just having a bad dream and was waiting to wake up. I remember thinking with certainty that it was all just a bad dream, and that I would suddenly wake up in the embrace of my mother, maybe even a maid serving us. I don’t remember my house when we were still nobles, but back then I still sometimes had dreams of this white cradle in a beige coloured room. The Beige Room I called it.” Shiara took an enquiring glance at my face, and then Shiara’s as if to assess are thoughts, before continuing, “I was eight at the time and even though we were always traveling, my parents had sheltered me, and given me all the love and care I could ask for. We were happy. They had me, and I had them. Sometimes, Dad would disappear on us for a few days, but he would always come back, with a smile on his face. Mum would hug Dad, and then they would tell me not to disturb them for a while, giving me something to play or a chore to do before entering a room together. We were content with life and I was happy.”

Shiara quietly wiped some tears that leaked from the edges of her eyes. Though her eyes were moist, she continued to smile at us as she said, “But fate is not always kind. I was naive in thinking nothing would change, that they would be always there for me till I could stand on my own two feet. I was young, I was sheltered, and I was naïve. It was during our journey from the capital of Fae to Frankfurt when we were attacked by a group of bandits. We had just finished watching a ceremony-“

“Wait! By that you mean you were there during my succession ceremony where they announced my right to inheritance?!”

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Yes of course… That was the only public ceremony that year. “Princess Sarratina, would you please be kind enough to let Shiara finish her story?”

“Ooh, sorry…”

“It’s fine Vixen. But yes, I was there. I don’t want to delve too deeply into the actual attack, but both my parents past away. A band of traveling mercenaries came, but they found us too late. The bandits were slaughtered, but the damage had already been done and-… yeah.” Grimacing, she continued, “They couldn’t and had no need to look after me, so they left me in Frankfurt. I remember my mother had a letter on her that was addressed to me, but well….” She looked embarrassedly at us, “I kind of tore it up without reading it properly. Well I read everything, but I can’t remember most of it because of how distraught I was. The letter contained everything they wanted to tell me and did not yet dare say, but I only remember distinctly the last sentence, which was um…. ‘Mom and Dad lived for love. Please don’t be…afraid…to love.’ “ 1*

“What did you say? Why you talking so quietly- oh… sorry, that was insensitive of me. If you don’t feel comfortable sharing, don’t tell us. We won’t pry.” Looks like only Sarra couldn’t hear the last part.

“I find that very hypocritical coming from you, but I guess you’re use to double standards.” Sarra visibly winced at the jab, but I felt a sense of satisfaction from it. That’s what she get’s for digging up the past.

“Anyways, on my second day in the slums, and I think I was in semi delirious state back then, I remember constantly muttering ‘I’m not alone, I’m not alone, I’m not alone’ over and over while hugging myself. I hadn’t been targeted yet because no one had noticed, but someone soon did. I remember thinking you were my knight in shining armour Vixen when you came over and nonchalantly told me as you passed by ‘They’ve never left you as long as they are remembered.’

And then over the last few years, Vixen has helped me quietly numerous times which I only found out about recently, but I’ll let Vixen tell you about that.” Shiara smirked at me before continuing, “About my skills, I’m good at healing magic and a decent brawler, at least against humans. Against the monster’s we’ve seen so far, I wouldn’t even hold a candle. Although we can’t use magic here,” -Stop waving your fish around and keep it over the fire! “Normally, I can heal most injuries that are not instantly fatal and don’t include huge loss of blood or cut off appendages. –Or involve complex poisons.”

2*

“Anyways, that’s all from me. Vixen, I believe it is your turn.” Shiara, stop smiling at me like that.

“I don’t think so. Sarra should continue with sharing her story as one of us has spoken already and I’m sure my story isn’t that interesting.” I also have lots of confidential information and tribal secrets. Ah! Suticat, stop nudging me, the fish isn't ready yet.

“Hahhh…Vixen, I’ll go now, but you’re going to have to spill the beans soon as well….”

Not if I can help it.