Shy

Born to a peasant in the Southern Icefields, Shy spent her first days in a rough, rustic. From early on, her parents noticed her exceptional gift for music, but as music was no use to the working class, they attempted to supress her. The little Skydancer, as it turned out, could not be supressed. She loved to listen to passing minstrels play their songs; it wasn't unusual for her to sit alone for hours, enraptured by their music. When banned from following the musicians, she sang the songs herself.

Her parents were at a loss. They could hardly prevent her from singing, since wherever they weren't, she started it up again. Soon enough, however, a roaming bard solved their problem child for them. For a hefty price, he would pay the couple for their daughter and her voice. There was little deliveration on the part of her parents. On that very day, Shy, barely out of infanthood, was sent off with the old bard.

Though he wasn't unkind, his vague, itinerant lifestyle was diffucult for her to get used to. They would amble from one town to another, hoping there would be a tavern in which to play. While the hatchling's innocent face endeared many customers, it frightened her. Having complete strangers fondle her was unsettling, to say the least, and the old bard never tried to stop them. Soon, they had left the Icefields behind, wandering into foreign lands far distant from home.

At last Shy decided to do something about it. When a small gang of wild Mirrors, more than a little drunk, broke into the inn Shy and the bard were singing in, she quietly slipped away, under cover of the chaos.

Unfortunately, she was thousands of leagues from any landmark she knew. Lost, aimless, and hopeless, she stumbled through the woods, until one rainy night, she stumbled upon a sleeping Imperial. There was a pearl there, and the moment she touched it, she knew there was someone out there who needed her.

So far from home, so lonely and lost, Shy instinctively latched onto any semblance of warmth or love—warmth and love she had never received from her parents. Autumn cared for her, kept her safe during the long, cold nights. He was tender and gentle with her, but the fierce, hungry starvation in the pearl drew her harder.

All along, from the time she left childhood behind, to the last stand when Autumn sacrificed himself to save her from the Shade, she knew he was looking after her, longing for her. If only she had been able to respond to his long, her conscience would have been so much lighter. If she hadn't been chasing after the dark shadow among shadows, perhaps she would never have fallen prey to the Shade. Perhaps all the dragons she had killed wouldn't have died.

But her heart was broken already. There was nothing anyone could do to break it further, but there was a way to heal it. She's left so many other broken hearts in her wake. Was it really worth all of it, for the redemption of one fallen soul?

Perhaps. Perhaps.

Eleven have mercy on her.