A Feeling of intense Sorrow

Coming home that night, Mother was livid. She'd assumed the worst, her child being gone when returning home. She worries for me a great deal, and I understand that, of course, but I have to start chipping in.

Seeing the bread and water I've brought with me, even she couldn't deny the necessity. If I am to grow strong, I will only require more to eat, and we are already spread thin between the two of us. So, with a heavy heart, she allowed me to go outside on my own, if I don't do anything dangerous, that is. She especially insists I never set foot in the human quarter again. I think the soap might have tipped her off about my adventure there.

Though everything in these walls is dangerous enough, I promised I'll stay out of trouble, if only to soothe her nerves. One duty I immediately took upon my shoulders was carrying all food and water from the market back to our place. That way she can rest her body a bit more most days and doesn't have to see the gruesome sights there quite as often. I'll continue keeping our place as clean as possible as well, now that I even have soap.

That, together with a few excursions into the human quarter, should reduce Mother's burden a bit. Sorry for going against your will, Mother, but I’d rather risk my hide than just watch you waste away due to some disease that rolls through the slum. I'll keep my eye open for any more weapons I can sell to that old man…

On these trips to the market, I'd always stop by the same place: Eleanor's tent. Though I did the right thing here – that corpse definitely had to go – I feel responsible for her now. Being there for her and making sure she still eats is the least I can do. The first few days were quite a handful.

"I'LL KILL LOREN; HE TOOK HER FROM ME!"

She too was absolutely livid. Loren's become the scapegoat for all her anger. Seeing as she's only cursing him and not currently going for my throat, he's kept my involvement a secret like I asked. Thanks, Loren, I'll make the most of your sacrifice.

Being filled with a lot of pent-up aggression, Eleanor spends most of her time pacing around the slum, glaring at anyone that dares to look at her. If she spots the primary object of her hatred, I mean Loren of course, she shoots daggers at him with her eyes for the rest of the day. One time, those foolish elven kids tried to take us on again, though this time my contribution was making sure none of them got killed by her, rather than fighting. This continued for maybe a month...

"She's still around here somewhere; she's waiting for me to find her."

After her rage had calmed, she began searching the entire city. She now seems to believe her mother is still around here somewhere. Thus we spent every free waking hour searching for someone we'd never find.

Starting at the base of the wall close to our tents, we made a complete round along it and spiraled inwards from there. Even through the human quarter. While certainly dangerous, it proved a good opportunity for Isha and me to further hone our abilities and think of new uses for them. I even managed to pick up some more soap while there, lucky me.

After that fool's errand, I can now proudly proclaim two things: Firstly, sadly, there are no conveniently placed holes in the wall, so escape will have to happen some other way. Secondly, I've familiarised myself with every part of this slum, except maybe the mines. This is useful information to have. Once we combed through everywhere and still hadn't found what she hoped to find, things took a turn for the worse.

"Just let me die..."

This same sentence was my greeting every time I entered her tent. Though I've already cleaned this place multiple times over, with my precious soap even, I still think I can smell that awful stench whenever I come here. Must have seeped too deep into everything.

Whatever food I bring her, she refuses to eat. What the hell do I do now? Can't very well force her to eat. God, it stinks in here! Should I bring her over to my tent? Mother won't throw her out, right? I'll just do it.

As I close in on her hidden under her bedroll, I get a closer look at her: Put bluntly, she's in awful condition. Her eyes completely empty with heavy bags underneath. She stinks terribly and hasn't even attempted to keep herself clean. Her body's thin, and her cheeks are sunken in.

"Just let me die..."

No, I won't. With all my strength combined, I lift her onto my back. She doesn't even resist. Awfully light to boot, I might add. I'll have to make something akin to soup for her; otherwise, her body might reject it. Leaving the confines of this awful-smelling tent, I start making my way towards a nicer-smelling place. Thankfully, it's not that far.

"Just let me die..."

Her quiet, raspy voice repeats that phrase like a mantra. What can I do to make her snap out of it?

"She needs a goal, a reason to live for."

"And what do you suggest, Isha?"

"Vengeance. It was the human's cruelty that took her mother away from her."

I suppose that's certainly a reason to live for. But I get the looming feeling in my gut that instilling revenge as the only reason to keep living in a small child is an awful thing to do. I don't want to. I refuse to. I'll have to think of something else...

Placing her in our domicile, I get to work on that soup. She looks dead already, the way she stares right through me. I'll try something...

"What was your mother's name?"

There's at least somewhat of a reaction there; this might work.

"Liliane…"

Her voice quivers, barely audible. That's a huge step up from 'Just let me die', though!

"Tell me about her."

“She could sing really well, singing me a lullaby whenever I couldn’t sleep. But I never understood the words, and she never told me what they meant either.”

Elvish singing, I assume, must’ve been rather brave…

“She always knew when the other children were mean to me; she even scolded them once when they called me names. I had no need for other friends when I had her.”

“Poor girl…”

“She’d always give me the bigger portion and say she wasn’t hungry. Even that day she…”

She doesn’t even finish that thought; her eyes start tearing up.

“I just miss her so much.”

She clings to me, crying her heart out.

"I just want to hold her in my arms again..."

I pat her head. Though I'll never replace Liliane, I'll be there for you. This is a good first step towards overcoming your grief. The second is going to have to be a bath, though. She still smells very bad right now. I'll have to ask Mother if she can give her a good scrubbing; I'm not sure if I feel comfortable doing that myself. Or if she would be alright with me doing that.

Isha too caresses her face, an overwhelming wave of anger and sadness radiating off her. One wouldn't be remiss in thinking that this is her child crying right there.

"Those humans have robbed this poor child of her mother..."

Her subdued anger quickly changes into raw, seething hatred. No wonder, really; this is an atrocity. Eleanor is close to me, so I am affected, but this happens all across the slums every single day. Every day someone loses the only person they have left. And to blame are the humans, especially that Zareth guy who owns this town as far as I know. It sickens me to the core...

After Eleanor calmed herself and had some soup, I continued talking with her about her mother. Calling that soup, though, is an insult to all cooking; I just slapped a few veggies I bought into the pot with water and added salt. Quite a bit too much salt. It's almost like we have an infinite supply of salt, and I might've added way too much. But she scarfs it down all the same, like it's the tastiest thing she's ever had. I do feel a little honoured by that, if I'm honest.

She huddles close to me, and we await the return of Rinah, to whom I still have to pitch the entire idea of basically adopting yet another half-elven child. But my worries were unfounded; I don't think she could say no to me if she tried. She, of course, took her in; she too is a kind soul who wouldn't leave someone else to die on the streets. So I have something akin to a sister now.