Nubia shuttled about her bedroom, moving from the vanity to the suitcase resting on her bed, trying with little success to fit the contents of the former into the latter. She had accumulated many clothes and trinkets over the years, none of which she was willing to part with. She had also been required to purchase some warm clothes to aid her travels during the current winter season in Caperow.

Rummaging through the uppermost drawer, Nubia fell upon her collection of old pictures. Many of them were of herself and her sister Lucia. In most, it was virtually impossible to tell which was which. She and Lucia were identical twins, although there was little chance they looked identical any longer. Looking over a picture of them on their eleventh birthday, Nubia could tell which of the two she was, but she did not recognise herself, only a younger girl who was the ghost of her sister.

Whereas the girl in the picture was gifted with glistening raven-black hair, deep black eyes and a sincere, innocent smile able to melt any teacher's will, no matter how stern the person, Nubia now possessed eyes and hair coloured with the help of a trick of sorcery. Her hair, always the first thing to catch people's attention, was a graceful array of vibrant colours along the entire spectrum. No shade was left to the imagination; anything from green to yellow, from deep blue and fiery red all the way to soothing mauve, homely chestnut and even the occasional natural black were present in her mane with countless variations hidden deep within its lengths. Somehow complimenting her most unusual hair, her eyes were a deep green, her favourite colour. She'd been told by many men both her age and older that they were her most alluring quality. She had to admit that those eyes had gotten her many places, some of which she would rather not remember.

Nubia put the pictures away. That was the past, and not a particularly happy one. She would see for herself how much Lucia had changed soon enough. Nubia's stomach turned at the thought of seeing her parents again. Would they even recognise her? Would they be happy to see her? Could she make them proud of her? There were so many questions she had no way of answering, so many frightening uncertainties about the next few days. She didn't even have any idea if her family was living anywhere near Check any longer or, for that matter, anywhere in the Duchy of Caperow.

Again, she would find out soon enough.

Lifting her head, Nubia noticed that her servant Amilin was standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable. Nubia smiled up at her and Amilin returned the smile weakly, at once looking to find something to occupy herself with. After a few attempts to try and help Nubia, she gave up, deciding instead to sit on the bed quietly while her mistress finished her work. Like all servants in Descria, Amilin was an elf. Slightly more than two years Nubia's senior, she was a quiet individual, respectful while also universally opinionated. Being a talented musician, Nubia valued her company for her relaxing playing as well as her openness and considered her a friend in spite of her unfortunate and unjust lot in life.

Nubia finished filling her suitcase, managing to fit everything but a few pieces of jewellery and trinkets she could easily carry with her or wear. Once she had closed the suitcase, Amilin handed her an oblong box, gift-wrapped and apparently very delicate.

"What's this?"

Amilin blushed and shifted uncomfortably. "Open it and find out," she urged. Turning the box over in her hands, Nubia carefully took apart the wrapping and, opening the box slowly, peeked inside.

It was Amilin's flute.

For as long as they had known each other, Amilin had always played that same flute, even years ago when she had been assigned to Lucia. Nubia gazed at the small instrument with a measure of awe. That flute had provided the both of them with many enjoyable evenings that she would soon not forget. That Amilin would be willing to part with it even in death was almost unthinkable. Yet, here it was

Nubia lay the box on the bed. "I can't take this, Amilin. It means too much to you."

The elf shook her head. "You should have it--as something to remember me by." She smiled and cocked her head. "Besides, what will you do on those long winter nights? You'll have much time to practice, won't you?" She took the flute from its box, assembled its pieces and held the instrument out to her mistress. "It's only a thing. I can make another." Nubia took the instrument gingerly, as if she could break it simply by her touch. She had held it in her hands many times, had even learned from Amilin to play with it, but then it had been Amilin's flute. Now it was hers.

Overcome, Nubia hugged her friend tightly. Unaccustomed to affection, Amilin returned the embrace clumsily.

"Thank you so much," Nubia said, holding the instrument close to her breast. "I'll practice every night."

Smiling, Amilin cocked her head. "Miss Nubia?"

"Hmm?

The elvish girl shifted again, wringing her hands. "Would you... play something for Miss Lucia when you see her? She especially liked the garden hymn."

"I will. I promise."

Amilin looked to the door behind her. "You should go. Master Leon is waiting for you."

Nubia nodded and quickly put the flute back in its box. Deciding against trying to fit it in the suitcase, she slipped into her bag of loose ends and picked up her suitcase.

"Goodbye, Amilin," she said from the doorway. "Be safe."

"And you, Miss Nubia. I hope your family finds you well."

Smiling again, Nubia crossed the doorway and headed left to the stairwell leaving her room, her closest friend and her former life behind.