Legends of Belariath

Muzna

My father was a fisherman, and likewise my brothers, too. They followed in his footsteps with a wooden point of view. But I, the black sheep of the lot, stayed safely on the shore. I kept account of what we had, and found ways to make it more. My mother left the village, some twenty years ago. We kids receive a letter, each new year's eve or so. My father takes the dory then, and anchors by the cove, until the weather drove him back, and that's when his sorrow showed.

My uncle owned a tavern in town. Since I couldn't fish and there wasn't anyone back at home to keep an eye on me, I'd mostly hang out there. He was kind of a weak-chinned man with watery eyes, but he was softspoken and kind where my father and brothers were stormy and loud. The inn he ran was so small it didn't even have a name; it was just a place where the folks would gather when the wind drove them in from the sea or the night was too big and dark to sit alone at home. It wasn't like the Lonely Inn, not even a little bit.

There, you'd find watery ale and a bit of cider or sour whiskey and a hot bowl of whatever was bubbling by the hearth and some hard biscuit. But there you'd also find quiet, gruff, but gentle folk. People who'd sing songs together of the wind, or the otters in the bay. I grew up as a little bit of everyone's child, I suppose, but that wasn't really a substitute for growing up as anyone's child. the men of my family knew boats, knew nets, knew weather, fish and currents, but they didn't know raising a girl. So I raised myself, I guess. I walked the wharfs and played with rope and nets. I learned to read slowly, and agonizingly, but I learned. I learned the songs they sung in the tavern, some sad, some raucous, some with words I didn't figure out until later.

And I liked it...except for the fish.

That was all that seemed to matter. fish, fish fish. And the smell got on everything and stayed with everything. Fish fish, bloody fish. I don't know if it's because my dad cared more about the fishing trade than he seemed to show to me or what, but I grew to hate fish and the smell of fish.

The funny part is, that I'm the eldest child. Technically I'm going to inherit the trade when dad retires. I could tell it was already causing tension, and for a while I thought I'd take it and sink the whole business, just out of spite. But then I thought about it some more...and decided to null the issue entirely. I made it known I was going to travel off. to become an apprentice and learn another trade, at least until I married. I packed my things, such as they were, and left, picking the most remote and different settled part of the world I could find passage to. And that was the Empire.

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