A shaky, sighing breath floated from Ayla’s lips to the waters below her slender fingers as the captain piloted the ferry from shore to ship. She really despised all the airs she had been putting on for the past week or so and was beginning to feel like she may forget herself if the charade went on for too long. She pondered the promise of security because of the contract.

“But,” she hesitated, bit her lip, then forged onward. “Does the contract mean nothing if the name I gave you is not the name I am known by to others? I really do not understand these contracts or how they work. They are bindings beyond my comprehension. I was shackled with a name at birth but it is not who I am. The name I gave you is also …” Trailing off, the elf came to an overwhelming and haunting realization that she did not know who she was at all.

Having never felt that the identifier given to her by the Blackthorne family were true to herself, the elf realized she may as well have no name at all. Responding to “Ayla” worked for the purposes of the family to which she was born indentured. Assuming the identity of Hazel Brooks had proven useful in becoming someone other than she had been told she was. Neither, however, felt true to herself. 

Her face fell into a dark reverie as the boat approached the ship side. The allure of freedom had proffered such intoxicating promises, the ensuing reality now crushed around Ayla with all the unforeseen ramifications that had never crossed her mind. 

“I will trust your crew. I will let the passengers discover as they will,” she replied flatly. All emotion sucked from her core with the threat of not existing to even herself. Reclaiming residence upon the deck of The Silver Wing, the elf inflated herself once more with false confidence and a placid expression for the benefit of any observers.