[STORY] Sanyaa

The Story of SANYAA: The Lost Outsider

An attendant placed a letter on the desk. It bore an intricate crest stamped into a red wax seal.

The hands inspecting the parchment trembled, the many jeweled rings on those fingers clattering against each other. The eyes reading it went wide with shock, then watery with fear.

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"The Shadow Society..." The reader's whole body began to shake. It had finally happened.

If you were rich but not respectful, if you had more coin than scruples, then it was said the Shadow Society would come and settle accounts. They were said to always announce their heists ahead of time with a calling card. He knew they weren't just some urban legend, but he also never thought he'd be in their crosshairs. It was only a matter of time, now... He needed to prepare for what was coming.

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The land of Galoa, located at the eastern end of the vast western continent. Though located far from the frontlines, the long war against the Fomors is felt even here. Passing armies took the people's harvest in the name of supplies, and now the residents faced famine. Despite these difficult times, the residents of one town managed to persevere.

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"Back of the line, Marf. I saw you cut in."

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Behind a wooden table stacked with baskets of bread loaves, a young woman stood adamant, her voice firm and clear. Her name was Sanyaa, though many knew her better by her appearance. It was not hard to see why. White hair, sparkling like snow in the sunlight, had the telltale signs of Westerner heritage. Yet her delicate facial features were those of an Easterner, and her skin was pale enough as to rival her soft locks.

The man called Marf looked sheepish, scratching his arm awkwardly, unsure of what to do with his hands.

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"Oh, have a heart, Sanyaa. I didn't even know there was a line." He apologized and shuffled to the back. A few people glanced over at him in pity. Sanyaa's sharp tongue had cut down many a villager, and her glare was enough to send a shiver down one's spine. They knew she had a good heart, though, as evidenced by her constant drive to make sure the townspeople had enough to eat despite the famine.

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"Here you go, Granny Rose." Sanyaa handed a piece of bread to the old matron at the front of the line.

Rose's wrinkled face had marked the passage of each year with harsh lines. When the woman handed her some bread, though, a smile bloomed on her face like a flower on a fresh spring day.

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"The Ellyllon family is truly a blessing to this town. Thank you so much, Mister Hejmdal."

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The man helping Sanyaa smiled warmly at the compliment. Reaching middle-age had greyed his hair, but his muscle had not diminished; he was powerfully built, but moved around the table and breadbaskets with startling agility. In fact, both he and Sanyaa seemed to have almost preternatural dexterity, shuffling around each other with equal parts care and speed. The father and daughter duo made quite the pair. The Ellyllon family was famed for helping to support people through difficult times, donating their money, their time, their muscle, and their compassion.

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"Hear, hear! She's right. It's only because of your help that we've been able to weather this famine. Three cheers for the Ellyllons!"

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The villagers in line applauded loudly. Newfound