The sun hung low on the horizon as Mystic finally rode into the small
                                        village of Da'rax.  Page, the forest's dolphineer, had asked her to pick
                                        up a few things from a festival that was supposedly starting tomorrow.
                                        The woman smiled lightly, still amazed by Page's memory of her home
                                        town after nearly a year in the warren.
                                            Small houses provided the only border between nature and
                                        civilization, large gates seen to be unnecessary.  Grey tendrils of smoke
                                        rose into the deep red sky, blending with the rain tinged clouds
                                        hovering over the horizon.  Straw thatched roofs shone gold in the dying
                                        light, sending faint streams of dust into the orange fingers of the sun's
                                        beams.  Colourful tents lined the inner streets, telling of the on coming
                                        celebration.  Already, people milled about the many displays.  The
                                        main bulk of patrons had thinned though, night's approach sending them
                                        back to their homes.
                                            Mystic slipped down from the runner's tattered saddle, one hand still
                                        firmly gripping the reins while the other rested gently on the beast's
                                        neck.  Her soft red robes rustled around her ankles as she walked
                                        slowly though the streets, towards the inn.  Leaves crunched beneath
                                        her sandles, the crisp edges tickling the exposed parts of her feet.  She
                                        brushed back a long lock of silky golden hair, hazel eyes peering
                                        around slowly.
                                            The fact that the festival was forth coming was plainly obvious.
                                        Still, not too many of the attractions caught her attention.  So many
                                        material possessions had been hers in her youth that she was sick of
                                        them all.  Everything she had ever wanted now bedded down for the
                                        night back at the warren.  Her gaze swept over the carts once more.
                                        Pies, cakes, dolls, wooden toys, weapons, clothes; all were present in
                                        all varieties of colours.  Only one display stood out though.
                                            Dull grey cloths draping over warped wooden polls made up the
                                        cart's structure, vastly contrasting with the other brightly coloured carts.
                                        No one gathered around this dismal display of horribly carved toys and
                                        crudely sewn dresses.  No one stood behind the display.  No wonder
                                        either; only a blind fool would think of robbing this place.
                                            Mystic gave the drab cart one last glance before passing quickly,
                                        spotting the inn only a few houses away.  The runner's hooves clicked
                                        over the cobble stone streets as both weary travellers made their way
                                        to the stables.  Mystic quickly settled the runner, providing a fresh bale
                                        of hay and comfortable stall then headed inside.
                                            Thoughts of a peaceful night's rest pushed the cart to the back of her
                                        mind as she set a few coins on the counter, having already argued the
                                        price of her room.  It seemed that outsiders were seen as easy pray in
                                        this town.  Thankfully, Mystic had spent many years as an outsider and
                                        knew her way around.  Only when rough laughter exploded from the
                                        adjoining hall followed by two gruff, male voices did Mystic pause to
                                        listen to something other then the rumble of her empty stomach.  She
                                        slipped the money pouch back to its loop on her belt then discretely
                                        moved closer to the hallway which fortunately joined the one leading to
                                        her room.
                                            "'Da hear 'bout old man Nox back in town?"  The man was obviously
                                        drunk, his slurred speech almost impossible to understand.  The other
                                        man wasn't much better.
                                            "'Dah... Don't know why 'e bothersss comin' 'round here no more.
                                        Ain't gotten any business in 'earss."
                                            "Ah... 'e just... comess 'round for 'da pocket money."
                                            "Yeah!  What ever money 'e can pocket!"  Both men exploded in
                                        laughter once more.  Daring a quick glance down the hallway, Mystic
                                        made out the dark forms of two barely standing humans.  Both leaned
                                        heavily on each other, appearing to just be standing there for no
                                        particular reason.  Mystic sighed deeply.  She doubted that either man
                                        knew their own names less whatever the point of topic was.  Turning to
                                        leave, her ever eager sense of hearing picked up a small point of
                                        interest in the conversation.
                                            "Too bad 'e's gotta drag the wife and kid 'round with 'im."
                                            "Bah!  Wife's no problem... Probably does all the 'ork for 'im
                                        anyway.  'Da kid on da'odder 'and, now there's a sssorry sight.  Poor
                                        thing's probably 'ad the daylights beat out o' her three fold by now."
                                            A slight frown creased Mystic's face as she ascended the stairs to her
                                        room.  The conversation had continued but most of it was unintelligable
                                        and almost in need of a dictionary to understand.  Still, she had been
                                        able to gain the important facts.  She hadn't seen her self-inclusion in
                                        the conversation to be eavesdropping; simply learning the facts of the
                                        town.
                                            Crawling into her straw filled bed, Mystic made a point of returning
                                        to that drab cart tomorrow.  Maybe she would be able to learn more
                                        about the visiting family there.

                                            The sun rose on the second day without event.  Mystic rose, dressed
                                        and ate, her thoughts running rampid though the day's activities.  First,
                                        pick up the items Page wanted.  Second, find out about the cart family.
                                            The day passed briskly.  By the time Mystic finished running Page's
                                        errands, the sun neared its peak, signalling mid-day.  Most of the town's
                                        inhabitants began shuffling back to their homes, leaving the festival
                                        bare.  The streets, however, spoke loudly of their passing.  Crumpled
                                        paper and left over candies littered the cobble stone, tumbling among
                                        the many open carts.  The grey cart still stood off to the side, devoid of
                                        any interest except for a bulky man seated behind his "treasure."
                                            Mystic approached cautiously, eyeing the wears on the small table.
                                        Now that she drew closer, she could see why not even the most
                                        desperate man would want to buy something from here.  Twisted
                                        interperatations of Tris'Hathian natives lay in rows along the rough
                                        wooden cart table.  Their warped features showed only scowls and
                                        dark glares.  Even on the ever cheerful Dodrian, a menecing snarl
                                        marked its face.  Beside the sad scalptures sat badly sewn pieces of
                                        fabric posing as clothing.  After studying the cloths for a few moments,
                                        Mystic still couldn't descern shirts from pants.
                                            "You lookin' to buy something or just gawk?"  The man's deep voice
                                        intruded in her thoughts.  His tone and demeanor was rude yet Mystic
                                        was able to stay calm... some what, and keep her eyes on the display.
                                            "I was hoping to buy something yet I see nothing of interest here."
                                        She stated simply, half turning to leave.  Last night's conversation
                                        nagged at her mind but there seemed to be nothing she could do.
                                            Mystic paused mid-turn, staring down at one particular item of
                                        clothing.  The fine red material had been carefully sewn together, the
                                        seams almost invisible.  It was a simple shirt, devoid of any originality
                                        but still the most beautiful on the cart.
                                            "This.  How much?"  Mystic's hazel eyes met the man's for a moment
                                        as she pointed to the shirt.
                                            "That?"  The man's gaze followed her finger to the shirt.  His muddy
                                        brown eyes widened in amazment.  He quickly snatched the shirt off
                                        the cart table, shoving it beneath the grey drapes.  "It ain't for sale.
                                        Don't know how it got there anyway."  He muttered under his breath.
                                            "Come now.  Name your price."  Mystic reached for the money
                                        pouch, had a second thought and drew her hand away.  "Actually,
                                        perhaps you would be able to direct me to the maker of that item.  I
                                        would like to talk with them directly about the sale of that shirt."
                                            Mystic knew she had hit a sore point when the man's eyes narrowed
                                        in anger.  His bushy unibrow lowered over his ruddy red face, giving
                                        him an ogre-like appearence.  "It ain't for sale."
                                            The magi was at a loss.  She wanted the shirt but the man didn't seem
                                        ready to comply.  A simple smile crossed her face as she turned with a
                                        shrug.  "I suppose I will have to find something better then."  She
                                        paused momentarily, casting a comment over her shoulder.  "Pity
                                        though, such a wonderfully designed item is hard to come by and I have
                                        been known to agree to almost any price."
                                            "Any price?"  The man's voice held a hint of intrigue.
                                            Mystic turned again, facing the man, her winning smile in place.
                                        Outsiders were easy to bait.  "Any."

                                            Bargaining over the shirt had lasted for a few minutes, ending with
                                        Mystic not only taking the shirt but a bit of history on the family as well
                                        and the man, Nox, grumbling about how he was cheated out of a sale by
                                        a girl.  Mystic ran her fingers lightly over the soft fabric, examining the
                                        fine design and stitching.
                                            "So you say your daughter made this?  What is her name?"
                                            "Polana."  The man grumbled under his breath, still eyeing Mystic
                                        gloomily.
                                          Polana...  Mystic thought the name was familiar.  Maybe something
                                        in the human tongue.  It had been years since she had spoken human.
                                        Dragons and the likes mostly understood common best.  She thought
                                        back to her early childhood teachings.  Ana was usually used in a
                                        numbering system.  Maybe it represented how many children Nox and
                                        his wife had had and what number this child was.  Polana... Ana
                                        usually falling as an ending between ten and nineteen.  Now... just to
                                        figure out where pol comes in.  Iana is ten and... pol... four...
                                        FOURTEEN!!!!  She thought in amazment.  How many children did they
                                        have in total if this was number fourteen?  A slight frown touched the
                                        corners of her lips.
                                            "May I speak with Polana?"  As usual, her voice showed no emotion,
                                        the only sign of her thoughts showing on her face.
                                            Nox smiled bitterly, seeing Mystic's frown and mistaking it for
                                        displeasure.  "O' course..."  The bulky man half turned on his stool,
                                        raising a meaty hand to his mouth and giving a loud bellow.
                                        "POLANA!!!  GET YER LAZY ARSE OUT HERE!!!"
                                            Mystic could feel her cheeks burning a bright shade of red as being
                                        seen around this dismal cart and its occupant.  She still managed to
                                        keep an air of dignity around her, staring straight ahead.
                                            A sickly thin form darted around the corner of the inn, staying in the
                                        shadows until she reached the cart.  Mystic stared in shock at the mal-
                                        care of the child.  Matted locks of what used to be red hair fell
                                        around her skeletal and muddy face, hanging limply in front of her
                                        liquid brown eyes.  Her small dress, tattered and torn from too many
                                        years of use, pressed tightly to her weak form from the gentle breeze
                                        blowing though the streets.  Her shoulders stooped sadly, shrinking her
                                        already small form.  It was nearly impossible to believe that such a
                                        creature could have made the beautiful shirt held in Mystic's hands.
                                        The girl noticed her creation in the magi's hand and smiled brightly, her
                                        stance straightening slightly.
                                            "Lady here wants to talk to ya."  Nox inclined his head towards
                                        Mystic, his muddy brown eyes always on Polana.  The girl's sudden
                                       happiness faded at the mention of having to talk to a stranger.  She
                                        shrank away slightly, staring in fear at Mystic.
                                            "I am not here to harm you, child."  Mystic knelt slowly, one hand
                                        holding the fabric while the other reached towards Polana.  "Your
                                        father tells me you made this."  She motioned towards the shirt and
                                        received a hesitant nod from Polana.  "It is very beautiful.  Do you have
                                        more like it?"  The girl's eyes brightened immediately, meeting with
                                        Mystic's directly.  She nodded enthusiastically, stumbling over her
                                        words in her haste.
                                            "Y- yes.  Many.  Do... do you want to see?"
                                            "I would love that."

                                            Mystic sat cross-legged in a sea of multi-coloured clothing; ranging
                                        from simple shirts to full length dresses.  Polana sat beside her, going
                                        through item after item with amazing enthusiasm.  Mystic couldn't
                                        believe the transformation from shy street girl to energetic seamstress.
                                        She smiled softly, lifting yet another dress up to the dim light of the inn
                                        room.  The midnight blue of the fabric shone with an inner brillance,
                                        as if it possessed a life of its own.
                                            "This is amazing, Polana."
                                            The girl blushed lightly, hiding her face beneath a sea of dirty red
                                        locks.  "It's m' favorite."
                                            "I can see why."  Mystic gently folded the dress neatly and handed it
                                        back to the girl just as a husky feminine voice intrrupted their chat.
                                            "Polana!  I thought I told you to get this stuff fixed up!"  A burly
                                        woman burst into the small room, holding up a pair of ripped trousers.
                                        Polana immediately leapt to her feet and grabbed the trousers from her
                                        mother, dashing out the door.  Mystic rose more slowly, studying the
                                        woman's rough features.  Like her husband, she certainly had no trouble
                                        finding food.  Her thick red hair pulled back from her plump face in a
                                        more then crude braid.  A grease stained apron covered her front and
                                        middle, ending just past her stubby knees.  The woman glared daggers
                                        at the magi before turning abruptly and storming out.
                                            "They treat the child as if she is only a slave.  I wonder what
                                        treatment the other children recieved and where they are now."
                                        Mystic's thoughts passed briefly through her mind as she made her way
                                        to the bedroom door and peered outside.  Sure enough, Polana stood
                                        bent over nearly double under the wrath of her parents.  Where ever her
                                        siblings were, this was no way to treat this young girl.  Her talents
                                        were amazing and would be greatly appreaciated around the warren.
                                            Mystic stepped forward slowly, clearing her throat to gain attention.
                                        It worked.  As Polana ran off to do her chores, both parents turned to
                                        Mystic angrily.
                                            "And you."  Nox pointed a thick finger at Mystic.  "I think you've
                                        overstayed yer welcome."
                                            Mystic simply nodded in her slow, deliberate fashion.  Her eyes
                                        moved from one parent to the other.  They couldn't be more then twenty
                                        turns older then her.  Again, she cleared her throat then began...
                                        carefully.
                                            "You seem to have many uses for Polana."
                                            "Ah... she's just a lazy lil' brat.  We'd probably be better off without
                                        'er."  Nox's wife shrugged slightly, still glaring at Mystic yet more
                                        suspiciously now.
                                            "Then perhaps you would not mind if I took her off your hands... so
                                        to speak."  She held her breath unconciously, wondering if she had
                                        made her move too fast.
                                            Nox stared at her in shock which soon darkened to pure rage.  He
                                        opened his mouth to admonish Mystic and recieved an elbow in the gut
                                        from his ever-so-loving wife.  She smiled, attempting to look sweet yet
                                        only ending up looking more evil then before.
                                            "She ain't the greatest of workers but she's got a flare for sewing.
                                        It'd be costly to lose 'er."
                                            Mystic raises a brow slightly, eyeing the woman.  Could she be
                                        hearing right?  Did they want to sell their daughter?  Still, anything
                                        would be better then life with these two.  But she had to play her cards
                                        right.
                                            "What kind of cost are you implying?"
                                            "Twenty gold."  The woman lost whatever innocence she had gained
                                        with the smile, revealing her true nature in a wide toothed grin.  Now
                                        came the game of chance.  Both players were apt at the game but only
                                        one could win.  Mystic would make certain she was the winner.
                                            "Ten and all her clothing."
                                            "Seventeen and one dress."
                                            "Fifteen and the dress."
                                            "Done."

                                            Polana clutched tightly to the midnight blue dress, staring back at
                                        the small town of Da'rax as it faded into the distance.  Mystic walked
                                        beside the runner, letting Polana ride the way home.  The journey
                                        would be slower but it was worth it.  She glanced up at the frightened
                                        young girl straddling the white mare with an unaccostomed
                                        awkwardness.  One hand clutched the long blue dress tightly to her
                                        body while the other held onto the mare's mane for dear life.  She
                                        looked rather odd sitting as she was.  A thin, dirty and frightened girl
                                        atop a proud and stronge runner.
                                            They were already half-way to the forest when the opressing silence
                                        was finally broken.
                                            "I am sorry for the conditions under which you travel with me but... I
                                        believe you will like living at the warren.  You have an amazing talent
                                        that would be greatly appreaciated by many..."  Mystic trailed off
                                        quietly, unsure of what to say to someone she had just bought.
                                            "It's... it's alright."  Polana managed a weak smile, her voice soft and
                                        gentle.  True, she had just been bought but by doing so, she was
                                        escaping a fate worse then death.  All her siblings had been sold and
                                        she knew that it was only a matter of time before someone wanted her.
                                        Still, she was glad that it was Mystic.  "I think I'll like it there too."

                                            Two weeks had passed since Polana had arrived in the warren.  As
                                        Mystic had said, she had recieved a warm welcome and, surprisingly
                                        enough, friendship.  To most, that wouldn't have been surprising but to
                                        her, no greater gift could exist.  She now sat at the small wooden desk
                                        in the weyr provided to her.  Her midnight blue dress felt soft against
                                        her skin and the gentle tickle of her brillant red hair made her feel even
                                        more at home here; as well as giving her a sense that, maybe now,
                                        she belonged.
                                            Her hands moved deftly over the silky red material that was to be
                                        her best dress yet.  Magika always stated her love of 'big' dresses and
                                        this certainly was big; and elegant; and beautiful.  She could only hope
                                        that Magika liked it.  To please the second care-taker of the warren
                                        would be a great achievement for her.
                                            The familiar sound of sandled feet on sandy ground brought her out
                                        of her deep concentration.  A visit from Mystic was always welcome,
                                        especially this one.  Mystic had been dropping hints of a small
                                        'surprise' she had prepared for Polana all day.  Now, hopefully, she
                                        would say what the surprise was.  Polana leapt to her feet, meeting
                                        Mystic at the entrance.
                                            The magi chuckled lightly, hiding her hands behind her back.  "A
                                        little eager, Polana?"
                                            "You did!  I knew you were bringing a surprise!"  Polana exclaimed
                                        excitedly.  Her eyes were drawn to whatever was hidden behind
                                        Mystic's back.  Momentarily, her met Mystic's and she calmed
                                        immediately, ashamed for her overexcitement.  Her parents had always
                                        scolded her for getting too active.  "Sorry... I-"
                                            "You need not apologize, Polana!  It is for you!"  Mystic produced
                                        a framed portrait of the young seamstress in her favorite dress.  Her
                                        laughter filled the room as Polana jumped for joy, hugging her tightly.
                                            "Thank you!"  She held Mystic in a tight hug after nearly fainting at
                                        the sight of the portrait.  It was hard to believe that that was really her
                                        in that picture.
                                            "Come.  We should find a place to put this."  Mystic took hold of
                                        Polana's hand, leading her towards her personal room, seperate from
                                        the weyr.  While one hand held onto Polana, the other secretly hid two
                                        small eggs behind her back.
                                            The two women spent a few minutes discussing where to place the
                                        painting and finally agreed on a spot just above Polana's bed.  They
                                        stood back a pace, admiring the art.