They call me Liz the Prodigy, for my love of intellectual pursuits and budding talent. I am aged 16, according to the years of man.
I have elvish and human ancestry, for my father was an elf and my mother a human, and I was born out of their union.
Because of my circumstances, I have learned to hide my appearance. But most anyone can tell that I stand at around five feet and a half, with a lean build beneath the baggy clothes I usually wear. If you were to get a closer look at my features, you'd notice icy blue eyes framed by short black hair, a small nose in a sharp face softened by the baby fat still clinging by the remnants of youth. My skin is white, somewhat tanned by the hours spent reading books under the shade of trees, and I dress roughly and plainly to draw attention away from me.
Although the mistreatment and animosity I've received from childhood has hardened me, in truth I am quite sympathetic about other people's plight. I aim to live freely and standing to my values, but if I were to rule I would use my academic knowledge and open mind to the betterment of my subjects, sparing them the suffering I have endured.
My path in life is not yet clear, but I intend to make the most of it in remembrance of those who believed in me, and in spite of those who would have it trampled and squandered.
A Sentimental Value
The only keepsake I could salvage from my home was an old but well kept ring that belonged to my mother, the Ring of Solace. It is a family relic of a rumored magical nature, but I only took it because it's easy to carry and something that will always remind me of my roots and my loving mother. Perhaps I may yet to find use for it beyond mere sentimental value, but I would not mind if it was all the purpose it fulfilled.
It is as I partook in a meal at the tavern after a grueling day at work that I noticed it: someone was watching me. The usual attention I draw is not in any way positive, so I was understandably anxious when I realized. But there was a detail that dissuaded my fears; this person wasn't simply watching me, they were watching over me. It was the wench, Carmela, who seemed to always keep me in the corner of her eye, directing the rowdiest customers in a corner far away from me, giving me a warmer smile than the other patrons and being generally nicer and kinder than I thought I merited. I theorized a million possibilities: perhaps I reminded her of a sister or cousin and she felt protective, or she merely fancied me and unconsciously treated me better than normal, or she liked my tips and agreeable nature and wanted me to keep coming. In the end, I decided to be bold and simply ask her. It would not do to keep that mystery in the place I rested and ate at. I wanted to be free of worry. So the next time she approached with a smile brighter than life I asked, "Is there a reason you're so nice to me?"
Carmela froze in place, and my suspicions about her attitude being abnormal only grew. She quickly schooled her face into a confused expression and responded, "What do you mean? Don't you think it natural that a wench should be cordial to her costumers?"
I frowned slightly, paranoia fueling my darkest thoughts. "Please, don't act the fool. We both know what I'm talking about. Is it truly so embarrassing that you cannot say it out loud?"
The wench smiled ruefully and said, to my surprise, "Truly, you're as sharp as your mother sold you to be."
And so is how I found that my mother had been a intimate friend of hers, and had asked her to watch over me should anything happen to her. It warmed my heart to know how much mother worried about me, and the extent to which she went to ensure my happiness even if she wasn't there to enforce it anymore.
Carmela told me that she had helped me in subtle ways ever since her death, singing praises to her costumers and friends, chiding anyone who was rude or hostile, taking a few coins out of my meals and drinks. She also told me she thought of me as a 'sweet child', and that she was happy to see how hardworking I was, but that I should take it easier or it would deteriorate my health. Properly chastised, I nodded with red cheeks to every criticism and compliment she dished out until she had to go back to work. It was a mortifying experience, but at the same time… it would be nice to have someone on my side for once. Perhaps, I thought as I watched Carmela whirl around the tavern with a dozen mugs on her plate, this would be the start of a wonderful friendship.
The Beauty of Lady Fluke
Lady Fluke fairest lass,
There is not in these here lands.
May thy comely face and lovely skin,
May thy bluest eyes and ruby red lips,
Retain their beauty onto eternity.
Through these humble words I daresay,
Lady Fluke, most beautiful dame!
House of Sorrows
It is to my understanding that this "Insolitam" that you speak of is none other than nature, or perhaps fate, or even the inevitable stigmatization of anybody different in this society-for indeed, "Insolitam" means little else but "unusual" in the older dialects. It was a spell that struck your children, yes; but not one cast by any one mage, but rather by the world-by circumstance.
Anxius introduced himself as someone who is always excited, yet that did not seem to be the case to me, and his name means the complete opposite: someone who is troubled, timid and uneasy. Gailen, likewise, means most likely 'healer' and 'calm' and while he did seem calm and docile enough, your description of your child paints him to be the quite different. The dichotomy between their names is most curious, and I think represent the true nature of their character versus how they appear to others because of their crippling anxiety and unknown curse, respectively.
As for you being the "Creator"-well, you are indeed the creator of this safe haven for the children. What's more, you're also their creator as well, I assume. You set the rules in here; you are the one who decides who and what is "normal" and "different", or like those plaques say, "smart" and "special". The coins in my pockets may have been a sleight of hand or even some discreet use of magic; that I do not know, but is it of any importance? I think that far more admirable has been your dedication and love to your offspring, whom you suspect of having little chances in the outside world, something I cannot deny in good conscience.
I have received the brunt of many hostilities for my heritage, and while I am not saying that my situation is in any way comparable, I have found people willing to look past our differences that treated me like an equal. If you feel suffocated by your parental duty, maybe it would be best to find others sympathetic to your plight or even in a similar situation. A few friends do make all the difference in the world. At least, I can offer you my support in whatever small way I can accomplish it, for I am not powerful or influential enough to change the way most strangers would look at your children, but I can surely help in small tasks or putting a good word with the right folk.
Reflections On Your Mother
Reflections On My Mother:
Although I have always known her to be a kind and gentle soul, the truth is, there is a veil of mystery surrounding my mother. Why was she so obsessed with me being a ruler? I can't deny that the notion is appealing to me, but it is mostly because she was so insistent on it and I grew up with tales of castles and gigantic armies and full treasuries. Why did she put Carmela to the task of assisting me? Is there any danger that I'm missing? Did she have enemies that I'm not aware of? Ever since she died, I can't help but think I know less about my mother than I believed, and that her plans run deeper, wider than I ever could have imagined.