I don't really remember much about my early years... Although I am so young, those times seem to have been in another era and another world and, in fact, something like a mist seems to hangs over them! I don't even like to remember them, I just feel pain and fear when I think about them. But what happened then is significant for the whole subsequent course of my life so, my friends, I will tell you everything I remember!
I only have in my memory a tall, blonde woman who was very dear to me, probably my mother. I'll call her that in what little I can write about my early childhood. And I remember that we lived together in a nice little cottage in Bruma, where my mother, who was unmarried, ran a shop. I suppose I was happy enough at the time because my first memories show the crisp clear skies, the fresh snow and the fresh, comforting smell of cold that reigned on the streets of that northern town at the foothills of the Jerall Mountains. I had many toys, each more interesting and beautiful than the last, but my mother was the most wonderful of them all. Every evening, when she came back from her store where she spent the rest of the day, she would play with me and cuddle me as not many mothers do. She was so beautiful, with such a sweet and melodious voice! My mother was young and agile too, and we often happily chased each other around our little house! And she used to invent new games, or maybe they were just very old games from another part of the world... Sometimes, my mom would tell me wonderful stories where knights in shining armor, always full of honor, saved beautiful ladies, damsels which were invariably oppressed by evil men or wicked beasts.
She loved me very much, and I remember with tears how she came every morning to the cradle where I slept and, after watching me for a while, gently caressed and kissed me. Many times, even though my mother had a very light step, I would wake up, but I wouldn't let her know... I would let her love envelop me like a warm, fragrant bath envelops a tired and frostbitten body!
I had friends among the children in our neighborhood, and sometimes, when I was late for playtime, my mother would come to pick me up, always bringing a big pot full of cookies to share with all my friends. On some occasions, she would return early from her store and join us in our games, acting just like a child and enjoying herself immensely. My mom was so beautiful and so good with the other children that they all loved her madly! But her eyes... I was a child then and didn't understand much, but they stuck in my memory because they were strange. My mother's eyes were the eyes of an old woman, with a deep, very deep gaze and sometimes full of an overwhelming sadness. And although she was so young, she had those slight creases around her eyes that people who have been through a lot in life tend to have. Her hands, though caressing and soft, bore in specific places those calluses which now I know well to have come from the long use of a bow with a hard string.
As far as I remember, she hadn't befriended any of the town's inhabitants, not even our neighbors, among whom were two very nice families who tried to get close to us. We had a maid, Anya, and my mother was very fair to her. On her days off, she even helped Anya with the housework, but she was always distant in her dealings with her. Yet to me, my mom was always gentle and kind, no matter how silly I was, may her soul have peace where it is now!
When I was about five years old, my mother came home one day, visibly distressed, and immediately asked Anya to pack clothes and other belongings for both of us. By evening, we were on our way in the carriage that regularly traveled to the Imperial City. We arrived the next morning. There, my mom rented a modest house in the Waterfront district, right near the docks. As far as I remember, we continued our life there without incident, except that our way of life changed significantly. My mother didn't hire any help, so she stayed home all day, tending to my needs and the household chores. I didn't have any friends in the neighborhood. I tried to make friends with the children there, but they were different—more agile and interested in other things than the childish games that had delighted me back in Bruma. I remember one time when I went outside, beautifully dressed and with a nice toy in my hand. I met a group of children from the Waterfront District and wanted to play with them. They stopped what they were doing, circled around me, and one of them—a brat older than the others—proposed a new game. He told me to give him my toy, close my eyes, cover them with my hands and stay like that until he would told me to open them. Then, he said with a cunning smile, something wonderful would happen. Full of joy, I did as he told me and waited... But no one said anything for quite a long time, and after a while, I decided to open my eyes. I did so, a bit scared because I felt like I was breaking the rules of this new game! As you probably already guessed, no one was around me anymore—none of those children! I was left very confused and stayed that way until I've got home where my mom explained what had happened. Later, after a particularly nasty day when two kids beat me and dragged me through the mud for no reason, my mom wouldn't allow me to go out of the house by myself anymore. I wouldn't have wanted to anyway because I was a good and quiet child, eager for the love and friendship of my peers. Besides all that, I didn't like the surroundings in the Waterfront District. There were many ships arriving and departing every day, a lot of drunk or rowdy sailors, and above all, the odors characteristic of such a harbor—a port serving a huge city that imported many goods and luxuries from overseas. The things that happened there could have been interesting and even entertaining for many children, but not for a child like me. As I told you before, I was a well-behaved and shy little girl, and the love with which my sweet mother, Kiersten, surrounded me made me even more unsuited for such an environment.
At some point, my mom started to go out during the night. At first, she didn't stay out long. She didn't even let me know that she would be gone, hoping I would sleep peacefully and not miss her. But one night, she came back to find me crying in despair, searching the house for her. She lovingly took me in her arms, caressed and kissed me, chasing away the worries that gripped my heart. My mother Kiersten explained that she had very important errands to run and that, from then on, she might have to be gone for longer periods—sometimes even during the day. I adjusted to the new situation quite easily, and after a while, my mom brought a kitten into the house to keep me company when she was away.
Oh, I loved that gentle animal from the bottom of my heart! I was fascinated by the kitty's behavior—its apparent serenity most of the time and its spontaneous, playful reactions. I was heartbroken when the animal disappeared without a trace one day, but that happened some time later. Specifically, it was during a period when my mom was away from home for several weeks. Before she left, she packed a bundle of clothes and toys for me, locked up our house, and took me and the kitten to a young family who lived in the Elven Garden District. The couple was very kind and attentive to me throughout my stay, but my kitten, unaccustomed to the place, disappeared one day after we had been playing in the garden. I was called to lunch, and when I returned, the animal was nowhere to be found. I waited, not worried at first, since it wasn't the first time it had wandered off. But it never came back, and I suffered terribly when I realized I had lost it forever. I cried and was so distraught that the young woman who was caring for me persuaded her husband to bring me another kitten.But I couldn't love this one. I couldn't attach myself to it, and soon, a chilling fear began to creep into my heart—the fear that my mother would never come back from wherever she had gone. Just as my kitty did!
Spring had just begun when she left, and now the summer heat was tightly embracing the city in its burning arms... I shuddered every time I heard footsteps through the open window, seemingly approaching our gate! My heart pounded wildly each time the gate or the door opened, and every time, I felt the bitter taste of disappointment and the cold fingers of fear clawing at my soul!But then came the blessed day when my mother, Kiersten, returned! I remember it as if it were yesterday: she arrived in a wonderful robe whitened by the dust of the Empire's roads, smelling terribly of a sweaty horse, and looking so skinny and gaunt. But my mother's eyes were shining, and big tears welled up in them as I threw myself, laughing and crying, into her arms. She brought rich and strange gifts for the family that had taken me in, and gave me a wondrous toy—something that I now know was made in the remote islands of the South by the Elves. She wept with me as I told her, sobbing, of the disappearance of our kitten. She caressed me and told me that the soul of the dear animal now awaited us both in the land of Nocturnal, where we both were destined to go someday.Then, for the first time in my life, I heard HER name. I didn't pay much attention to it because I was overwhelmed with joy, the intense happiness caused by the return of my mother Kiersten, whom I thought was lost forever. And my mom never mentioned HER name again, throughout all our time together. In the end, without sitting at the table where our hosts had invited her, without even washing or resting, my mother gathered all my belongings, and together we returned to our cottage in the Waterfront District.
Once there, we resumed our accustomed life, and everything went on calmly and normally, without any particular events, joys, or sorrows, until I was seven years old, when my mother got married.
I don't remember much about my stepfather, except that he seemed very busy and was rarely home. I can't even manage to build his image in my memory but I am absolutely sure that if I see him again, I will recognize him immediately. I can hear his voice, deep and gravely, I remember his confident and steady gait and I can feel his somewhat rough and careless pats. But that's all... Because something broke and died within me in the period immediately following, when the most terrible thing that could have happened to me was about to occur. Perhaps my mind is trying to protect me and simply refuses to reveal what is deeply hidden under the black veil of despair, because, not long after they got married, my mother Kiersten was murdered in the dark alleys of the Waterfront District.
Again, I cannot recall anything from what happened immediately after this terrible event, and I can only suppose that my stepfather disappeared, vanishing into the cloudy, rainy sky... It was autumn back then, this I remember very well! I recall a fresh, modest grave covered by leaves of all colors, wet and pale under the gray light falling from the ashen sky... And on the grave, there was a stone—plain, gray, and rather thin—without any marks or signs. A little girl was there, embracing the stone. She stayed there, wet and cold, all day long, holding the stone close and speaking to her mother...
The lone coffin slept profoundly,
'Neath funeral garb and leaden bloom.
I stood, a shadow by the grave—
The wind howled softly through the gloom,
And garlands rustled in their tomb.