Monica had grown up—as much as a fifteen year old girl in Terantis could be considered grown up—under the occupation of the Legionnaires. Her life in Glensmill had been hard, and her mother and father had struggled to keep her belly full. They had done everything possible to keep her safe, but as conditions in Glensmill had changed, they had come to feel nothing they could do would keep her safe forever.
Monica looked over to the priest who had saved her from the men that had grabbed her. I was so lucky she came by when she did. Monica had told her parents all that had happened, and they had decided to find the woman who had saved their daughter. They had told her that she must be important to be able to do magic and still have her freedom.
“Bitter Springs isn’t perfect,” Eliz said as they walked along to the north, “but for now, people still get to work for themselves, so long as they pay whatever quotas the Legionnaires require.”
“Not like at home where papa has to work in the lumberyard for them whether he wants to or not?”
Eliz shook her head. “I think you’ll like it here, but maybe this is only temporary. Things seem to be getting worse everywhere.”