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Our former sovereign, King Arund, had a bit of difficulty with his younger brother, who constantly tried to usurp him and steal his throne. The story goes that the king eventually had to sentence his brother to death after a failed assassination attempt on his life. He loved his brother dearly and hated that the crown had come between them.

In an attempt to do away with future familial animosity, Arund decided he would divide the kingdom of Ghadra between his six beloved children.

New boundaries were drawn. Six territories arose, each named after the prince or princess who rules it. Ghadra became divided.

And opportunities arose for unsavory sorts.

It was only a decade ago that the split happened, and there were many who took advantage of it. Bandits have become more common than flies on the roads. They move from territory to territory, making it impossible for any one ruler to stop them. No one wants to allocate men or funds toward criminals when they’re no longer in their territory. Then there’s the problem of six new rulers trying to create their own courts, build their own economies, finance their individual rules.

The people have suffered greatly for the change.

And I’ve heard tales that not all six royal children are content with one little piece of the pie. Rumors abound about revolts and plans for takeover, but that’s all they are at this point. Whispers on the wind.

Regardless, my business has become a necessity, and I make very good money doing it. Countless individuals have tried to hire me as their personal smithy. Given my abhorrence for people, I’ve always refused. Lately, these requests have become more frequent. Knowledge of my abilities has started to spread to the far reaches of Ghadra. Probably because I’ve been taking on more commissions lately, trying to reach our goal faster.

Temra and I are so very close to being able to leave. Just two more years, I think. If I want to be able to retire and afford the higher cost of living for myself and my sister for the rest of our days, we need a bit more.

“That’s great, Ziva,” Temra says, pulling my mind from images of her and me alone in paradise.

She still doesn’t touch her food.

“Have you given any more thought as to what trade you’d like to commit yourself to?” I ask, hoping to distract her.

“Not really. I love to act in the local city performances, so maybe I could join a traveling troupe someday.”

I don’t see how she would stay with me in the north if she intends to go traversing about for her trade. She clearly hasn’t thought that one through very much.

“Or…,” she hedges, “maybe I’ll do something with weapons. I’ve basically been apprenticing under you my entire life.”

Yes, I like that idea much better. “Of course! There’s always a place for you in my forge.”

“That’s not what I meant. I can’t be in your shadow my entire life, Ziva.”

My shadow? How curious she would put it that way, since it’s always been me who’s tried to hide behind hers.

“You’ll find something that will make you happy. I know it,” I say.

“I’m already happy, but I know I’ll figure out the future, too. What about you?”

“Me?”

“Are you happy?”

My instinctual response is yes, but I pause. I do live in constant fear of others. Sometimes it’s overwhelmingly hard to leave the house.

“I’m happy,” I decide in the end. “I have everything I need. You and my forge. I just wish the rest of the world would disappear.”

“That’d be an awfully empty world.”

“Exactly.”

“Then what need would you have of me, if I’m not scaring away most of your customers?”

“I’d get lonely if it were just me,” I joke.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” I ask.