Roen stared at the parchments that were laid out in front of her. They were plucked from the pile of documents that were found in the boxes that she had unpacked, and while there were numerous contracts and proof of holdings to sift through, four pieces of paper did not quite seem to belong with the rest. She had read them over and again, and still their significance confounded her.
First was a letter that was presumably addressed to Sebastian Redgrave.
S.R.
Arnor Mills - Flames corporal, taken by Amal’jaa and tempered. Presumed deceased.
“Adala†- Courtesan. Sold to a Hingan and left for Othard more than twenty years ago.
Fiora Horne - Parents deceased. No children. Murdered in Ul’dah about twenty years ago. Falbrand Horne, brother, left for Ala Mhigo one year ago.
Vail Lazarov - Pirate. Vanished at sea ten years ago.
Good business.
M.
Accompanying the letter was an old and worn out parchment receipt, indicating the “sale of debt†of an indentured servant known by the name “Adalaâ€. The surname was too smudged and worn out to read.
Along with the receipt, there was another sheet that contained what seems to be a crude family tree drawn on it. Arnor Mills and Adala were connected, having a child named “Adairâ€. A dotted line linked “Adair†to “Fiora Horne†and then to “Vail Lazarovâ€.
Then the final piece of the puzzle was another letter.
My dear Adair,
I had my brother Falbrand hold onto this. In the event that anything happened to me, he would find you and give this to you. It seemed like only yesterday that you were given unto my care, and while I may not be your true mother, I have and will always love you like my true son.
Your mother Adala loved you dearly as well. It was because she loved you that she gave you to me, gave you to the absolute best chance for a better life that she could find despite her circumstances. I do not know what you may be feeling from knowing this; I can only tell you that Adala was desperate to find you food, shelter, and some semblance of a future. All things that she could not provide.
I have done my best to care for you, and despite my--our circumstances, I have seen you grow to be healthy and strong. I write this now so that you will always know that you were never unwanted, by either of us. We were simply too weak to give you the bright future you deserved.
Please find the hope to live.
Fiora
Roen knew that name, Fiora. It belonged to the woman that raised Nero in Ul’dah. She worked in a brothel, and her story was a sorrowful tragedy--one that Nero did not relish in sharing. But Roen remembered her name.
Adair. Was that his true name given to him by his birth mother? Roen knew that Nero had chosen a Garlean name for himself, because it sounded intimidating. But he fell into a somber silence the one time Roen asked him what his real name was. She had just assumed that he did not know, at least until now.
But if the information she could piece together from these letters and receipts was true… it must have been the reason Nero was looking to flee to Othard.
Roen let out a long sigh and collapsed onto the chair, her eyes still fixated on the scattered papers on the desk. She assumed she would find mementos of Nero’s life as she unpacked his things, and she had cherished various memories that each recognized item brought forth. But she was not expecting this kind of a revelation.
But now that it stared back at her, what would she do?
First was a letter that was presumably addressed to Sebastian Redgrave.
S.R.
Arnor Mills - Flames corporal, taken by Amal’jaa and tempered. Presumed deceased.
“Adala†- Courtesan. Sold to a Hingan and left for Othard more than twenty years ago.
Fiora Horne - Parents deceased. No children. Murdered in Ul’dah about twenty years ago. Falbrand Horne, brother, left for Ala Mhigo one year ago.
Vail Lazarov - Pirate. Vanished at sea ten years ago.
Good business.
M.
Accompanying the letter was an old and worn out parchment receipt, indicating the “sale of debt†of an indentured servant known by the name “Adalaâ€. The surname was too smudged and worn out to read.
Along with the receipt, there was another sheet that contained what seems to be a crude family tree drawn on it. Arnor Mills and Adala were connected, having a child named “Adairâ€. A dotted line linked “Adair†to “Fiora Horne†and then to “Vail Lazarovâ€.
Then the final piece of the puzzle was another letter.
My dear Adair,
I had my brother Falbrand hold onto this. In the event that anything happened to me, he would find you and give this to you. It seemed like only yesterday that you were given unto my care, and while I may not be your true mother, I have and will always love you like my true son.
Your mother Adala loved you dearly as well. It was because she loved you that she gave you to me, gave you to the absolute best chance for a better life that she could find despite her circumstances. I do not know what you may be feeling from knowing this; I can only tell you that Adala was desperate to find you food, shelter, and some semblance of a future. All things that she could not provide.
I have done my best to care for you, and despite my--our circumstances, I have seen you grow to be healthy and strong. I write this now so that you will always know that you were never unwanted, by either of us. We were simply too weak to give you the bright future you deserved.
Please find the hope to live.
Fiora
Roen knew that name, Fiora. It belonged to the woman that raised Nero in Ul’dah. She worked in a brothel, and her story was a sorrowful tragedy--one that Nero did not relish in sharing. But Roen remembered her name.
Adair. Was that his true name given to him by his birth mother? Roen knew that Nero had chosen a Garlean name for himself, because it sounded intimidating. But he fell into a somber silence the one time Roen asked him what his real name was. She had just assumed that he did not know, at least until now.
But if the information she could piece together from these letters and receipts was true… it must have been the reason Nero was looking to flee to Othard.
Roen let out a long sigh and collapsed onto the chair, her eyes still fixated on the scattered papers on the desk. She assumed she would find mementos of Nero’s life as she unpacked his things, and she had cherished various memories that each recognized item brought forth. But she was not expecting this kind of a revelation.
But now that it stared back at her, what would she do?
