Legends of Belariath
Ariellia
Three years ago I left the land where I had spent every day of my life. What spurred my leaving, the death of my parents. I was fifteen years old and my parents had died of an illness that could not be cured by any member of my homeland. The most the healer’s could do was to offer them herbal remedies to ease their pain and a few small healing spells, but this was something that made remedies nor magical ones could reverse. At their death, I was forced to look at everything I had been taught by living among those of clan Mahou. Peace and tranquility were the things that were taught to me as a child, I knew nothing of violence, slavery, or rape, except in the stories told by the elders, even those most of the children passed off as tales to make sure we behaved ourselves.
Foolish was I in thinking this as I received my father’s diary, started the day he and my mother were married. My grandmother handed me the book, offering me only this advice. “Do what you must my darling kitten.” Thus began the change in me and how I saw the world. “This diary is a reflection of the life of Kalanth Arymss’ life among the people of Xlion, and Clan Mahou. Life here in Xlion is much more peaceful and tranquil than it is among other areas of this harsh world. Here peace is embraced and taught to their children. If I were to tell Solana of what I knew before coming to this place and learning the ways of the Mahou, the shock alone would kill her.” Those words were the first line of my father’s diary.
I would make it through the first three entries in the leather bound book before getting sick. Was this really the world my father knew? The powerful taking advantage of the weak? The rich using the poor? Others being treated as property and sold as one would sell a garment of clothing or a sack of feed? Surely not all places outside of Xlion were that harsh, were they? My grandmother’s advice finally made sense. She knew that I would need to explore lands outside of Xlion for myself. Learn what the world outside our quiet sanctuary was like. One month after my parents death, I came before my grandmother and the elders of Xlion, the oldest of the clan among the city. “My choice, is one all of you must have expected sooner. But, I have made my choice now. I will be leaving Xlion, I am unsure if I will ever make it back, but know that my heart will always rest with my true home.”
I was given a blessing as well as provisions to last me for one year of travel, I was sent out with a horse and wagon and supplies. My satchel contained my father’s diary, coin purse, my sketchbook and charcoals. I knew that I would need to rely upon my artistic talents to help me survive, those talents that developed even before my ability to walk or speak. I am slowly growing in to the magical aspect of my heritage, but as my mother always said “With time comes perfection my sweet one.”
As my travels continued I came face to face with the reality that my father had described within his diary. Rape, robbery, bribery, blackmail, seduction, manipulation all of it happening at once, or separately. Myself never being a target of any of this though each image captured; each detail in charcoal hidden within one of my sketchbooks.
Two years into my travel, I found myself bound to another, wearing a collar around my neck. It is not a feeling I would soon forget. To be forced to serve another even for the smallest debts, was hell on earth for me. Most believe that those of clan Mahou are perfect for slavery, but there is always an exception to every rule, I am an exception to that rule. I was bound to a man, serving in his home domestically, never once exposed to any form of sexual abuse or use. Bound to him for eight months, learning various details of domestic life, making meals that he liked, doing the wash, I was like a maid. My debt was paid within the first three months of my service to him, but I was not released because he sought to abuse my artistic ability, take the money I made on my portraits as charge for him putting up with me. Finally my time with him ended and I left traveling through various towns for the next two months, selling portrait after portrait, meeting person after person.
Finally, I reached a place where I was to start over, begin anew, and yet I find my outlook on the world changed again. The peaceful roots of my childhood still hold true, I will not willingly enter a conflict, but I have found myself needing weapons and learning how to protect myself from the harshness that is found within the walls of The Lonely Inn.