How long has it been since those blasted pirates took everything from me, and here I am finally starting anew, moving on. Balthus eyed the charts on his desk, Rekaela should be coming into view any time now. The grizzled sailor took a swig from his near-empty bottle of grog and hurled it to the floor, its shards joining the ever-growing pile at his feet.

Rekaela was good, Free of the growing strife on the continent. He needed a new start, If only his luck would hold. His ship, the Hilen Rose, had a hold full of goods in its belly and the deed to a corner shop awaited Balthus’s arrival. As the city neared, an inebriated Balthus emerged from his cabin, barking orders at his men. He had been a gentleman once, but those days were long behind, left at the bottom of the sea.

Under the twilight of shifting stars, the Raken river delta came into view, and port wouldn't be far behind. Tomorrow, Balthus would part with his ship and crew one final time, but for today, he was still their captain and he would see this voyage end.

The Hilen Rose pulled alongside the ramshackle dock serving as the city's only link to the outside world; all the while Balthus made his way to the hold to take stock once more. As he made his way down the steps an upturned keg rolled across the floor, knocking into the hull with a thud. This can't be good. Spools of cloth littered the floor, along with crates smashed open and their contents strewn about the deck. The voyage hadn’t been particularly rough, there was no reason his hold should be in such an awful state.

Balthus poured over the state of his hold, looking to salvage what he might when a noise escaped from what was once a crate of linens on the far end of the room. He approached with caution, not knowing what to expect. Had the mess not been the work of the sea after all? Could a street rat or something worse have snuck its way onto the ship?

Balthus’s eyes must have been playing tricks on him, what he found just couldn't be. In front of him was a young Kisaelen girl wrapped in cloth rags, napping in a makeshift bed. It had been many years since Balthus had interacted with the Kisaelen; they were a proud people. He had never heard of anyone meeting one outside of their mountain home.

He knelt down over the girl. Her light blue fur was unkempt and caked with dirt, dyeing the white tips of her ears a muddy brown. She must have been young. Her fur had yet to recede and give way to the more human-like skin of an adult. For now, she was still just a cub; it almost made Balthus forget what she had done.

He reached toward the girl. At his approach she snapped awake, hissing like a feral cat before jumping back and hiding behind a stack of crates that she hadn’t yet knocked over. The wreckage of his goods enraged Balthus.

“Look at what this girl has done!" He spat. "It will cost me a fortune to replace all this. I wonder what I can get for a Kisaelen pelt.”

But it was at that moment that memory took hold. Just for a moment, the fear in the girl’s eyes looked just like Jelena’s on that terrible day, when everything he held dear faded beneath the sea. For just a second Balthus thought he saw her, the color gone from her body as the blood drained from the wound at her breast. Balthus tried to shake the thought from his mind but he could never push his beloved away. There was nothing I could do for you, my dearest. You saved me that day all those years ago and there was nothing I could do for you. Why do you still torment me with your image? You would save that girl, wouldn’t you? Balthus sighed. I guess so. Then It wouldn’t do for me to behave any differently. Against every instinct he had, Balthus resolved to help the girl. Maybe then, at least, she could work off the damages.

Balthus inched his way towards the girl, ignoring her increasingly angry hisses and groans. He rummaged in his pack and pulled out a wrapped skewer of meat and held it towards the girl. She looked around, sniffing the air. Her eyes turned wide, and she stared at the skewer in his hand.

“Come little one,” Balthus said in the gruff voice of a hardened sailor, “You must be hungry to be digging around in the belly of my ship. Take this an’ eat.”

The girl trembled as she grabbed the skewer. She ran back into the corner and hid behind her stack of crates to devour her meal. A short moment later, she reappeared, peeking one eye out from behind her nest of shipping crates, and looked back at the man who had fed her. The anger was gone from her face, replaced with a sad trepidation.

“Now, doesn’t that feel better?”

The girl didn’t respond. Her lip quivered, her head held low. Balthus could tell that she was struggling in vain to hold back tears.

“Can you at least tell me your name? I’ll start. I’m Balthus. And you are…?” Once again, there was no response from the ruffled kit, merely licking the juice from her hands.

“Where’s your family?” He pressed, trying to get her to answer something, anything. The girl just shook her head and whimpered, giving him nothing. Yet, Balthus understood her even without speech. She was alone, a situation Balthus was all too familiar with. When Jelena died, he felt as if the world had been pulled out from under him. On that day he had changed. He hardened his heart and shut the rest of the world away.

I don’t want to hurt anymore, so why? He looked at his empty hand, still slightly stained from the skewer he had given the girl. Why am I…

The girl looked up at Balthus and let out a tiny purr. Balthus snapped out of his thoughts and knelt down to look her in the eye.

“Being alone… it's right dreadful, isn’t it? Nothing but contempt for the world.” He sat, relaxing in the presence of this girl, “We’re two of a kind, you and I… well, mostly.” He pointed at the top of his head, gesturing that he did not have cat ears as she did. “I could just leave you to die, that would be easy. But someone close to me would not have liked that very much. So? Why not stay a while?”

The girl rubbed her eyes and nodded. She still cried, the corners of her mouth turned up, and for a moment, she almost started to smile.

“It ain’t gonna be a free ride, you’re gonna have to earn your keep. If you get lazy, it’s back to the streets with your sorry arse. But I can promise you this; if you make yourself useful, life’ll be pretty good for you”

The girl’s deep purple eyes still watered, but now she smiled, and her tail lifted into the air. For the first time since he met her, the girl was truly happy.

“Right then,” Balthus said. “But if you’re sticking around, I’m gonna have to call you something, can’t keep calling you ‘cat’….” Balthus thought for a moment before continuing. You might be gone now, but I’m going to make your memory live on in this one. “Jenabell.” He said simply, “From now on you’re Jenabell.”

The girl pointed at herself, tilting her head. “Jen… aah… bell?” She parroted, though poorly, unable to completely form the word.

“That’s right, so you aren’t mute.” Balthus sighed with relief. Jenabell threw her arms to the ceiling and jumped for joy.

“Now come on then, celebrations are over, time to get to work.”

*

Jenabell was curious about her new home. She would often find her way into the storeroom where she was particularly interested in books stored on low shelves. She would sit on the floor and stare at the pictures for hours mumbling to herself trying to read the titles and captions. With a bit of help from Balthas, it wasn’t long before she had figured out how to read and moved on to recreating what she had read in her own hand.

Having been raised in the Free City, Jenabell knew nothing of the larger world. Books were her only portal to the world beyond the island. She read about the tensions between the land of the Kujei elves and the kingdom of Hilien men that lead to the founding of the Free City, about the rings of stars that encircled the world, and about the first race upon whose ruins Rakaela had been founded.

Time went on, and Jenabell proved herself to be completely useless at shop work. She tried her hardest, but something always got in the way. She tried bookkeeping but never could figure out the math, and she was far too easily distracted to run errands. On one occasion, Balthus sent her to a shop just across the street, but her attention was swayed by a bookstore along the way and she didn’t return until nightfall. Her many failings at the shop were hard on Balthus, but she was far harder on herself. She wanted nothing more than to repay her father for picking her up off the streets, but try as she might, she just couldn’t find anything she could do to pay her father back without messing up.

It seemed as though an era would go by before Jenabell managed to be of any real help. Ten winters came and went, and Balthus’s business grew despite it. Hilen and Kujei alike came from across Sideria with the fruits of their labors in tow. Jenabell had grown into a fine young woman. Her pale blue fur gave way to fair white skin on all but her ears and white-tipped tail while her sea-blue hair fell in a gentle wave on her shoulders.

On one particularly slow day during the summer lull, against his better judgement, Balthus went out for the day and left Jenabell to mind the shop in his absence. While Jenabell sat behind the counter with her eyes fixed to a book, a tall man with pale skin and pointed ears came in carrying a wooden chest sealed with an ornate iron lock. A kujei If she'd ever seen one. When Jenabell noticed the man, she called out to him.

“Welcome to Balthus and Bell’s antiquities! My father’s the one you probably want to talk to, but maybe I can help?”

The old man looked Jenabell over intently, “A Kisaelen in Rakaela? Why you must be Jenabell.”

She was taken aback, “I’m sorry sir, I don’t understand. Do you know me?”

“Ah! My apologies, you wouldn’t know me, so allow me to introduce myself,” the man started, chuckling briefly before continuing, “My name is Aurifort, I’m an old acquaintance of your father…” He paused for a moment, glancing around the shop and its assortment of wares, “I must say, I was surprised to hear that he opened a new store so far from home.”

“My father never mentioned any acquaintances; did he send for you?” asked Jenabell.

“We have shared correspondence for the past few weeks, I hadn't heard from him since that terrible business with the pirates, so I was quite surprised when he sent a message out to me.”

Jenabell held her head low, fidgeting with her vest. “So he… mentioned me?” Her ears tucked low at the idea that he had told others about her total lack of business skills. “Is that how you knew me?”

“Mention you? Gods, you were all he talked about. He sounded so proud of his daughter who keeps trying no matter how many times she fails. You really inspire him, you know.”

“Really!” Jenabell exclaimed, her cheeks blushing a rosy red. “He said that about me? I thought I was a disappointment to him. I never do anything right, and I’m no help around the shop.” She mumbled.

“From what he has told me, Balthus has been inspired by your concerted, if not always productive, efforts. I’ve come to believe that’s why he invited me out here after so much silence.” There was a moment of pondering, before he added, “This might just be the musings of an old man, but I think you’ve changed him somehow. No one has heard from the man in years, suddenly, he starts reaching out to us again, reinvigorated by a new passion. That passion might be you, dear girl.”

Jenabell stood in shock. “I… I don’t know what to say, I didn’t think that father thought of me that way…” Realizing she was probably blushing quite brightly and looking overall embarrassed, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat to recompose herself. “In any case, you’ve come here as a client… So what can I help you with?”

He nodded. “I thought I’d contribute to the now Balthus family shop.” He rubbed a hand over the wooden chest he had set on the counter between them. “You see, in my younger days I was a bit of an explorer. I traveled to ruins across the Kujei lands hoping for a find that would make me rich. I’m sad to say I never found much of worth, but I did find this box back in Kallion. Never did get it open though.”

Jenabell pondered for a second. “I’m sorry sir, I wouldn’t know how to make you an offer. Without my father here, I’m certain I would get it wrong,” 

Aurifort rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, I really cannot keep carrying it around. I’m getting older, and I can only handle carrying so much… How about I leave it with you for now? If you manage to sell it, we can split the profits.” He offered, rather generously.

“I… suppose we can do that,” Jenabell reasoned. “I’m sure my father will have no problem giving your item a new home… and I’ll keep your share of coin somewhere safe.”

“Very good. Oh! I’m afraid I have taken up too much of your time. I still have other business to attend to. I’m not as sprightly as I once was. I’d best get on to it while the day is still young,” The old kujei explained.

“No problem at all, sir! U-Um, I’ll make sure to put this somewhere safe right away!” She assured, reaching her arms out for the item.

The man gave the chest to Jenabell and waved as he walked out the door. “Tell your old man ‘that lanky bastard’ stopped by.” He said before departing.

An hour or so later, Balthus returned from his errands and saw the locked chest sitting on the floor by the door.

“Jenabell!” Balthus shouted. “Did you… Make a deal while I was gone? I told you not to make business transactions while I’m not around!”

“A uh… lanky bastard came by with it.” She blushed a bit at the usage of harsh language.

“Aurifort was here? Damn, I must have just missed him. What did he sell you and what did it cost me?” He inquired.

Jenabell explained about the chest and how Aurifort had simply left it in their care.

Balthus gazed back at the chest and rubbed his chin. “It’s a good thing he asked you to split the profits with him, because he knows damn well I won’t hesitate to swindle whatever I can get out of him. Go ahead and put it in the back, I’ll find a locksmith before too long to get the thing opened up. The old crook probably did this on purpose. Bet he couldn't be bothered to open it himself.” He laughed at the last part, like this kind of thing was normal banter between the two friends. Jenabell smiled, proud that her father was happy with her deal. She wanted to ask her father about what Aurifort had said, but by the time she worked up the courage to bring it up, Balthus had already returned to his work. The chest was put away, but before Balthus could arrange for a locksmith, business picked up and Aurifort’s mystery chest had to be put on hold.

The Starlight Festival arrived and with it came a slew of new customers. Balthus was forced to rely on Jenabell to manage the crowds while he held down the counter. On one particularly busy day Balthus sent his daughter to the storeroom to retrieve a set of books that a customer had purchased. On her way back to the shop floor, Jenabell clipped her foot on a shelf and lost her balance, falling to the floor with a thud. The top heavy shelf began to wobble, causing Aurifort’s chest to fall to the ground and smash open on the hard stone floor. Jenabell sat next to the former chest with tears in her eyes. It wasn't a minute later that Balthus came running back from the shop floor.

“Jenabell! Jenabell, are you all right?” He called, looking around only to find his daughter on the floor, frantically brushing a jumble of wooden splinters into a pile.

“I-I’m so sorry father,” Jenabell said through tears. “I… I tripped on the shelf and smashed the chest. You didn’t even get to see what was inside. N-Now that you have to tend to the mess I’ve made, you can’t work the store. Y-You’re probably losing sales because I'm so clumsy. I-I’ll work as hard as I can to earn the money to pay you back for the chest.”

“Forget the damn chest, Jena. I’m just glad you aren’t hurt.” He glanced down at the smashed chest below him, “It’s Aurifort’s money anyway, so it’s no skin off our bones.” He let out a sigh as he pondered what to do. Even if it wasn’t his money, it was money that had been lost. “Guess I ought to close the shop up early today, get some cleaning done around here. Crowds 'av made this place look like a stable with too many horses… Why don’t you take a warm bath and soothe the bruising, I’ll take care o’ things here.” Balthus pulled Jenabell up by the arm and sent her off to her room. Even if she didn't seem injured, Balthus worried all the same.

Balthus picked up the books he had sent Jenabell to get and left for the shop floor to lock up and deal with the remaining customers. Once the shop cleared out, he returned to the storeroom to clean up the shards of wood left from the smashed chest. Balthus started to pick up the pieces when a small leather pouch hiding under a shard of wood caught his eye. He stuffed the pouch into his bag and threw out the remaining bits of wood before leaving to comfort his daughter.

*

Jenabell finished with her bath and returned to her room, her eyes still red from crying, and curled into a ball on her bed, feeling rather pathetic from the ordeal. Balthus sat on the bed, beside his sobbing daughter and pulled the leather pouch out from his bag. He comfortingly stroked Jenabell’s head between her cat-like ears, the way he knew she most enjoyed, and she let out a gentle purr. Jenabell rolled over onto her side and looked at her father with sad eyes.

“Look here Jenabell,” Balthus said. “It seems your little accident bore some fruit.” He took the leather pouch out from his bag and showed it to his daughter. “You were the one to crack that thing open, why don’t you open this and see what we’ve got?” Balthus put the pouch in his daughter’s hand and looked on eagerly to see what it might hold. Jenabell riled herself from the bed and fingered the flap on the front of the pouch.

“Are you sure father? I made you worry and cost you a whole day of work.”

“It’s all fine now, Jenabell. It’s been taken care of. Now go on, open it up. Let’s see what that old bastard was carrying around.”

Jenabell unfastened the brass swing clasp and lifted the flap revealing a set of what looked like oversized playing cards out from the pack. She looked closer at the cards to see that instead of suits and numbers like normal playing cards, they had intricately drawn artwork and odd symbols Like nothing she had ever seen.

“What do you think these are, father?” Jenabell said, running her fingers over the embossed artwork, eyes fixed on the cards in her hand. “I’ve never seen anything like them. They have such pretty artwork, don’t they?”

Balthus noticed how drawn his daughter was to the cards and he came up with an idea. “If you like them so much, they're yours. I have no interest in selling somethin’ like these, far to hard to turn a profit.”

Jenabell was shocked, “Why would you give something this nice to me? You could have sold the chest I destroyed, and you had to close the store early because I hurt myself. You're losing so much money because of me. You could at least sell the cards and make something  back.”

“Bell, you’ve said that already.” He sighed, though he smiled and placed a hand on her head once more, “An' I’ve already said that you have no need to worry yourself over a silly little chest. Did you even see the crowds outside today? They’ll be coming back for certain. At any rate, you need to understand that you’re more important to me than a handful of coins… So keep the cards, keep calm, and keep doing your best. That’s all I can ask of you.” He assured her.

“Thank you! Thank you, father! I’ll cherish them forever and they’ll never leave my side.” As the words escaped her lips, Jenabell pulled her father into a tight embrace for a hug he gladly reciprocated. Satisfied that Jenabell had forgotten her undue anguish, Balthus left her alone to trifle with her cards.

Jenabell spent hours lying around, staring at the cards, running her fingertips along the artwork, studying the symbols, anything she could do to try and understand what she held in her hands. Her best clues were the unusual symbols that adorned each card. Jenabell had never seen anything like them and It seemed that the more she examined the cards, and the harder she tried to find their meaning, the less she understood.

On a day like any other Jenabell left the shop with a list of errands from her father and a strict 5 o'clock curfew. Jenabell being Jenabell, She couldn't help but be distracted by every shop along the way and before she knew it, 5 o'clock had come and gone. It wasn't until shops began closing for the evening that Jenabell realized her mistake. Oh no! I'm late! Father is probably worried sick, I've got to get home! Without another thought, she bolted toward home.

It wasn't long before Jenabell ran headlong into a beautiful young woman and fell to the ground. Despite the jolt, the woman didn't have so much as a wrinkle out of place in her embroidered, cherry blossom robes. Jenabell knew for a fact that she wasn't exactly the height of crisp and clean, but the woman appeared without a speck of dust. Not even the gentle breeze rolling across the harbor could so much as take a hair from its proper place.

Jenabell sighed, “Stars above am I clumsy. I am so sorry miss, I was in such a rush to get home that I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright? Let me help you up.” Jenabell reached out her hand and helped the women up off of the ground.

“Not to worry, my dear. But how do you fare?” her voice was as smooth as silk on Jenabell's ears, “That pouch on your belt seems to have come loose. Let me help you.” Jenabell looked to her feet and saw the pouch that had once hung from her belt had indeed come loose and spilled her cards about the ground.”

Kneeling down to reach for her cards, Jenabell exclaimed, “Oh! Thank you so much, mam! I don’t know what I would have done had I lost them. They were a gift from my father, they mean the absolute world to me.”

The woman held a card in her hand, admiring the art for a moment as she said, “These are quite the gift… your father must be of a very generous nature.”

Jenabell sighed. “More than I rightfully deserve, if I’m being honest.”

The woman turned a card over in her hand, “Do you know what you have here? These cards, that mean so much to you. You hold them dearly, yet you know not what they are capable of or what they mean.” Jenabell was aghast, did her confusion show on her face? Was she really so much of an open book? “My apologies, I should not expect you to know such things. After all, it’s been a very long time since they have seen starlight.”

Jenabell was more confused than ever. “What are you talking about? Are they really that special?”

“More than you could possibly know. Keep them close to your chest dear child” The woman replied, as Jenabell finished putting her cards back into her pouch. She returned to face the woman, and ask her what she had meant, but when she raised her head to ask, the woman was nowhere to be seen. She swiveled around, scanning the street, but not a trace of her could be found.

I couldn’t have imagined that right?... After a moment of pause, she shook her head to clear her muddled thoughts. With questions held tightly in her mind, she ran all the way back home to tell her father what had transpired with the mysterious woman.

"Where have you been Jena? Didn't I tell you to be back here over an hour ago? I damn near went out to find you myself!"

Jenabell apologized profusely and explained what had happened; about her becoming distracted and the chance encounter with the strange woman. “So father, any idea who she was?”

Balthus ran his hand along his beard, “Can’t say I have. If she’s as pretty as you said she was, I’m sure I would have remembered her… Are you all right?” He put a hand to her forehead. “Well, you don’t feel like you have a fever…”

“I assure you, I’m fine, father. I think I'll head outside and warm up over a fire to clear my head. Would you like to come with me? The weather is fair, and the stars are out in full splendor tonight!”

“That sounds like a wonderful evening, but I’m afraid I’m up to my neck in work. Don’t let me hold you back, just don’t burn our shop down.” With that, Balthus returned to his office, and Jenabell took to the courtyard. Once she had a good-sized fire, Jenabell sat on a log and pulled out her cards.

Jenabell picked a card from her pile, one with artwork of a ship's mast, and ran her fingertips along the edging. Just what are you? As she thought, Jenabell leaned back and stretched her arms to the sky with the card loosely gripped in her outstretched hand.

At the end of her reach, the card began to shine, emanating a calm green glow. The wind around her suddenly picked up, extinguishing her fire. Did I Just do that? No, it had to be a coincidence. But the card? It glowed? Jenabell reached for her pouch and picked up another card, this time with the image of a flaming torch. "How did I?" said Jenabell while palming the card in her hand. "What did I do? I was just stretching like..." and Jenabell leaned back once more and let her arms stretch towards the sky. Once again the card at the end of her reach began to glow, this time a warm red. The air around her began to warm, and her smoldering fire once again roared to life.

Jenabell’s excitement bubbled over becoming more than she could contain. “Father! Father! You have to come out here!”

An exasperated Balthas came running outside. “What, What is it Bell? You’d better not have let your fire get out of hand.”

“No father, nothing like that. I’ve just discovered the most amazing thing!”

Balthas sighed “Bell, you know I’m working. What is it?”

Jenabell palmed her deck of cards, looking for the words to explain what she had done. Deep in thought, she instinctively pulled a card into her hand and raised it to the sky. Just like before the card in her hand began to glow, this time with an aura of sparkling white. The light reached out from the card and enveloped Balthus in light.

As the light began to fade Balthus examined his body. “Amazing Jenabell! The scars on my arms are gone!” He picked up Jenabell by the waist and twirled her around the campfire. “Was that magic? I haven't heard of anyone with a talent for magic in an age! No wonder you had no talent for trade! You’re a mage! I can’t believe my daughter is a mage!” Balthus’s face lit up, as proud as a father can be.

With a cat-like curiosity only a true Kisaelen could have, Jenabell began to explore what her cards could do. One winter came and another went, all the while Jenabell tried her best to manage her new double life. She spent her days tending the shop with her father and her nights under the starry sky, cards in hand trying her hardest to understand her new gifts.

*

Meanwhile, news reached Rekaela of a bombing on the hilen continent, and the people of the free city began to worry. The city had no allegiances so would likely not be caught in the war itself, but as a mercantile city, Rekaela wouldn't last long without the trade.

It didn't take long for the people's worries to prove founded as Kujaelen declared war on Heiless, shutting down foreign trade.

Rekaela couldn’t hope to survive in a world at war and Balthus and Bell antiquities fared no better than the rest. Without trade from the mainland, fewer people brought antiquities to sell, and Balthus had to dip into his savings to keep his store afloat.

At long last Jenabell saw an opportunity to repay the many years of kindness her father had shown her. One afternoon, when the store was yet again empty, she approached him. “Father, I need to have a conversation with you.”

“Is something on your mind, Jena?” He asked almost absent-mindedly as he wiped the front counter of the store for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

“This business… it will not stay afloat, the way it is going. Our profits are in decline by the day, and I haven’t done a stars-damned thing about it,” she admitted.

“Nonsense, you have always been there to assist me.” He answered, almost as if this response was rehearsed.

“But I’m not at all good at it!” She threw her hands down to her sides in frustration, “You always say that everything is fine, but I cannot bear to watch you suffer like this anymore. It reminds me of… the old days.”

Balthus stopped his wiping, his face stiffening as he looked up to his daughter with eyes that betrayed his pain, as if her words had physically hurt him.

“Do you… really mean to say such a harsh thing? After all this time, after all I’ve provided for you?”

Jenabell sighed. “Forgive me, father, I didn't mean to be so harsh… what I mean is… you are right, you have provided for me much and more. I owe everything I have, know, am to your kindness. But if I continue here as a half-baked merchant, this business will be brought into the ground and sink both of us along with it… which is why…” She held her breath for a moment, knowing that the words that she was about to utter would not land on her father easily, “I have decided to leave.”

His stiff face turned sad. “Jenabell, when I started this business, it was about becoming a man of great wealth, about acquiring happiness through belongings and a lavish lifestyle. But after I raised you… that didn’t matter anymore. It still doesn’t matter. I want to provide for you, because you are more important to me than any antiquity in this doomed shop.” He told her somberly.

But she remained steadfast.

“Father, you started this business with a dream. The cards in this deck have given me a way to make my own way; to help you see that dream fulfilled. If I leave, if I become an adventurer and take on worth, make something of myself… I wish to bring all that I gain back to you.”

“You speak as though you owe me a great debt when I have happily and generously provided, asking nothing in return but your presence… and now you seek to take that away?” He whimpered.

Jenabell smiled, placing a hand on her father's cheek. “Father… I’m old enough now to make it out on the world on my own. I am not the little girl that can provide for you just by smiling. You say what you say now, but look at where it’s taking us. Please… I will not be gone forever. I will return before you have to shut down this shop. I will come back with enough riches that you might decide you don’t even need to deal in antiquities anymore.” She assured him.

There was a long silence, as the hilen man slowly put his hand on hers. He smiled softly, but sadly. “It seems that your mind is made up, then. I should not be so selfish as to make you stay. You wish to help others, and in turn elevate yourself that you might one day return to save me as well… You truly have the strength of heart I always knew you had. Very well.” He slowly put her hand off his face and back on the table. “But you’re going to help me close the shop tonight before you go anywhere, young lady.”

Jenabells eyes shone with the acceptance of her proposal. “Yes, sir!” She giggled.

Jenabell readied herself to leave. She used what little pocket money she had to book passage on a ship to the east and prepared to set out for a new chapter of her life. With her pouch of cards on her belt and a pack of potions and gear her father had prepared, Jenabell boarded the ship and steeled herself to say her goodbyes. Leaning over the edge of the ship, Jenabell shouted to her father, “Goodbye father! Just like you did so many years ago, it’s time for me to leave my home and make my name in a new land. So, look to the stars and one day you’ll see me!”

With tears in his eyes, Balthus waved his daughter off. She was ready to take on the world, but he couldn’t bear to see his beloved daughter leave. “I know you can do it Jenabell and know, successful or not you can always return home when your journey ends.” As Balthus said his parting words, The ship pulled anchor, and Jenabell’s adventures in Sideria began.