Summer

Summer roamed free as a girl in Rushmal Shalin

Summer

It was during the last days of Rushmal Shalin when Summer began her adventure. Summer was born in the Seaport City of Camesha, which lay at the southern most tip of the main land.

Life in Camesha was exciting, as it was a melting pot of Rushmal Shalin’s finest cultures. Often times Summer would spend her time among the wharfs watching countless people coming and going from the ships. People bought and sold their wares along pier, which made for lots of commotion most days. Summer blended in with crowd, often wearing her purple cloak and her dagger at her side. She loved to live dangerously.

When Summer wasn’t spending her nights at the local tavern, she spent then night sleeping at her father’s house. Her father’s modest house was nestled among the fisherman’s homes and the other shops. Her father was a shopkeeper who knew most of the locals and some of the people who frequently visited the city.

It was like any other day for summer. She threw off her covers and stretched. Sun shine filled her small, sleepy room. She stood up and glanced at herself in the looking glass above her dresser. Her young pale face looked back. The olive black eyes blinked back at her. Summer leaned over and splashed her face with water from the water basin. She sighed and pushed her long hair from her face. Summer sighed as she dressed. Today she picked out a pair of trousers and a blouse, for today she was talking to Captain Branawa about a position aboard his ship.

Her father needed some help financially and Summer figured she could help out by earning money aboard a ship. Not to mention it would be one less mouth for him to feed while she was gone.

“Breakfast is ready,” her father Omotos called to her from the other room.

“Coming,” she called as she brushed her long hair. She smiled to herself thankful that her father had fixed breakfast for once. Usually she got up early and fixed it for the both of them, but he knew today was special. She grabbed her cloak and dagger from the back of her door and rushed into the kitchen where they ate. “Smells wonderful,” she said sitting down.

“I haven’t cooked in a long time, so I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Omotos said sitting down. “I think the last time I cooked was when your mother first fell ill all those years ago.”

Summer nodded grimly. Her mother, Icana, had passed a way several years ago. She’d been ill for over year before she finally died. Both Omotos and Summer had loved Icana more than life itself. It tore a terrible hole in their hearts when they lost her, but at least they’d had each other to hold onto.

“Dig in,” Omotos said picking up his own fork and starting to eat.

They ate this last meal together chatting about daily gossip and news. When summer had finished she put her dish in the sink and descended the back stairs to the street below. She stopped to pet a black cat with a white patch around its eye. When the cat saw a neighbor throwing out scraps, the cat jumped from the barrel and went to eat. Summer walked through the streets, her boots splashing in puddles. The air was cool and dam that day and it made Summer shiver. She pulled her cloak around her for warmth and tried to pull up her damp spirits as well.

When she was a child she was able to roam freely, but now she had to work for a living. If she had a choice and if her father hadn’t needed her then she would have become a Metme. Metmes were troubleshooter, pirates, gamblers and survivors of the street. They were tough, but they were free.