A captivating young woman, her green eyes shining like emeralds in the morning sunlight that filtered through the various windows of the tavern's upstairs hallway, leisurely made her way toward the stairwell at the end of the hall. With each step her ginger curls bounced, prompting her to tuck them behind her ears to keep them from her face. A radiant smile graced her plump lips as she hummed a tune, its melody lingering in her mind, though its words eluded her. She glanced at the doors lining the corridor, wondering if any of her sisters would awaken to join her for breakfast.

The tantalizing aroma that permeated the tavern air had lured her from her dreams, promising another of Isa's delectable meals. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation; she was utterly starving. With a helpless sigh, she extended her arms forward and stretched them high above her head, arching her back like a contented cat just awoken from a nap.

As she neared the stairs leading down to the main floor of the tavern she spotted a figure seated on the hallway floor. Leaning against the wall beside Mythra's bedroom door, the figure trembled with silent sobs, arms wrapped around her knees in a feeble embrace. It was Siduri, Mythra's adoptive mother, and one of her dearest sisters in the tavern.

Mythra had returned home with serious injuries three days ago, and despite Granny Nan's treatments, he had remained in a coma ever since. Her heart went out to the little boy. His body had been a mess when he was brought home, and she couldn't bear to see her sweet little brother in such a state. She had avoided visiting him because it hurt her too much to see him so broken and injured.

Siduri lifted her tear-streaked face, her dark amber eyes red with anguish. "Oh, Layla, I... I'm sorry. Did I disturb you?" she stammered, her voice choked with tears. "I… just needed a moment."

Not only was she crying, but the poor woman's face was bare, a rarity for Ninmah's devotees. Most of the followers of the Great Mother would sooner be caught naked in public than be caught without some amount of makeup accentuating their features. Concerned, Layla approached her friend and knelt beside her. She gently squeezed the woman's trembling shoulders and asked, "Hey Sid, are you all right?"

"It's been a long week," Siduri whispered. "I just needed to let it out, is all."

"I know," Layla said. "How's Mymi doing?"

"Mythra? He just woke up, not too long ago. He's resting now."

"He woke up?" Layla exclaimed with surprise and excitement. She shot to her feet and reached for the boy's bedroom door, but Siduri's gentle touch on her forearm and the sullen shake of her head stopped her from entering the room.

"Let him rest," Siduri murmured in a desolate tone. "You know how harsh those elixirs are on the body. He needs to sleep if he's going to heal. Then we can see if things are as the healer feared…" Her voice trailed off.

"We… we can see if his legs are truly cri…" the final word caught in her throat like a bitter poison. She composed herself, steeling her resolve to get the sentence out, "We can see if he's crippled."

She nearly broke down, tears threatening to spill once more as the words left her lips.

Dejectedly, Layla looked down at her feet, her fidgeting toes betraying her discomfort with the conversation's somber tone. "Surely Granny Nan was mistaken," she muttered, her voice filled with hope despite the uncertainty. "Mymi is still young and strong. He will... he'll be up and running about in no time. Definitely. You'll see, in a few days, he'll be good as new." She attempted a confident smile, but it faltered, betraying her doubts.

Her stomach chose the worst moment to rumble, causing her to chuckle in embarrassment. She motioned towards the staircase. "How about we go get some breakfast, hmm? You should eat, you know, to keep your strength up, and I think I smell Isa baking," she tempted, though it seemed to affect her more than Siduri. "It might help take your mind off things, at least, for a little while.

Siduri empathized with Layla's discomfort. What could anyone even say in this sort of situation?

She flashed a warm smile at Layla, attempting to lift the mood. "You're right. I was just about to head downstairs to grab something for myself. Let's go together." Taking Layla's hand, Siduri led the way down the stairs. Both girls were smiling, but the cheer on their faces seemed more hollow than a mime's.

Descending the steps and turning left down the hallway, they bypassed the pointed triple arches leading to the dining area and headed straight for the kitchen at the end of the hall.

Inside, a lush aroma filled the kitchen as the scent of spiced pork loin mingled with fragrances of garlic, cloves, onions, mint, and freshly baked dough. The heat of the fires burning throughout the room kept it as warm and toasty as the pie baking in the oven.

A short older woman with untamed, frazzled, graying black hair bustled about the kitchen in a whirlwind of activity. She climbed a stool for spices that she'd placed far beyond her reach and shuffled past the girls to pull the pie from the oven.

As she passed, Siduri noticed how distracted the woman looked: deep lines of worry etched the landscape of her face as she frowned, her hazel eyes were distant, and her body moved through the familiar motions without emotion or thought. Isa was a resilient woman, it was so strange to see her out of sorts.

As if she were oblivious to the atmosphere, Layla eagerly approached Isa, her spirits visibly lifted by the incredible smell of good food.

"Lady Isa, that smells positively divine!" Layla exclaimed brightly, peering over the old woman's shoulder to peak at the dish she was preparing.

On the table, Isa was putting the finishing touches on a golden-brown pork hand pie, brushing it with melted butter and dusting it with a hint of seasoning.

"Don't mock the divine in my kitchen, girl. I don't want to get caught up in your punishment when retribution comes for you, and flattery won't earn you any extra helpings." Isa snappily replied.

"Oh, come on, Madame," Layla complained with a pout.

"Don't whine, or you'll get nothing. The rules are the rules, Layla. One portion for each of you girls, and your butt's swelling up enough as it is. You were so slender and lovely when you first came here, and now look at you." Isa shook her head with disappointment.

"Hey! I have womanly curves!" Layla said defensively, running her hands down her sides to accentuate that her waist was still slim despite the size of her more sensual assets.

"Yes, yes, womanly curves, not an ounce of extra fat on you," Isa said, rolling her eyes as she gently pinched a slightly pudgy section of the girl's exposed midriff, emphasizing her sarcasm.

"Now, take your pie, and off you go. I'm sure one will do fine enough to keep those 'womanly curves' you're so proud of." The older woman handed Layla the platter she was working on and gently nudged her towards the kitchen door. As she finally took notice of her surroundings she saw Siduri standing quietly off to the side, patiently awaiting her turn. "Siduri, darling, come here, child." With a final soft shove to Layla's back, she left the troublesome girl to her own devices and waved Siduri over.

Siduri obediently approached Isa's side and gave her a polite bow. "Good morning, Madame. Thank you for the lovely breakfast, as always."

"No pleasantries, dear, that's not what I want to hear and you know it." Isa's expression was gentle, but the hint of impatience in her tone was evident. "How's our boy, hmm?" she inquired, cutting straight to the chase.

Siduri's heart sank, and her gaze followed suit, her head sagging as she stared at the stone floor. "He woke up a little while ago, but I'm unsure about the condition of his legs. I urged him to rest before he could try to move about," she explained, her voice growing soft. A tear dropped onto the floor as she continued in a shaky voice. "I don't know if I did that for his benefit or my own."

"Ah, why are all my daughters so silly, hmm? Look up now, since when have you ever had to hide your tears from me?" Isa reached out and tenderly clasped Siduri's hands within her own, the warmth of her touch offering her comfort as Siduri raised her gaze from the ground to meet the old woman's concerned eyes.

"You're too soft girl, but I guess, that's what makes you a treasure. Why are you all worked up about a couple of legs, hmm? When the boy was missing, we never worried for his legs; we worried for his life. The boy can live fine without legs, he wouldn't be the first, and he won't be the last. That doesn't mean he won't struggle, and that doesn't mean he won't need our help, but if I know anything after all my years, it's life can be nasty but it tends to be fair. At the end of all this, he may find that some blessings, come in ugly packages. Now, don't worry so much, that boy's tough, he's got his whole life to live, thank the gods. He's safe now, and that's what's important." She gave Siduri's hands a reassuring pat.

"Now, the only concerns I have left are for you." Her face turned stern. "This is the first time you've properly sat down to eat in days and you aren't sleeping well just look at the bags under your eyes. You passed out serving last night, and your customer was none too pleased about it. He gave me quite the earful I'll have you know."

The old woman stuck her pinkie in her ear, closing her eyes as if she couldn't hear properly after all the man's racket. "But of course, there are no refunds at my establishment. He had to leave quietly into the night, with all that frustration nicely pent up." She said with a smirk, that only an old swindler could have.

Her expression softened as she met Siduri's remorseful gaze once more. "You shouldn't continue working so many late shifts. They're taking a toll on you and adding to the stress on your mind, not easing it."

Siduri responded in a panicked tone, "But Madame, I have to work to pay back Healer Nan—she..."

"Don't worry about her; I'll cover the damn croon's costs." With a dismissive wave of her hand, Isa interrupted the overly anxious girl, her tone firm but reassuring.

"But... but Madame..."

"No 'buts.' You're under my care, and so is the boy. Siduri, you need to stop trying to carry every single burden." Isa's voice softened as she spoke, "Sometimes you need a shoulder to lean on too, and even though mine are old and tired, they're still strong enough to support you kids." Gently, Isa brought Siduri's hands up to her lips and kissed them.

"Now, go eat, and I don't want to see you until it's time for supper. Take your own advice for once and rest, do you understand?"

Siduri's eyes brimmed with more tears. "Yes, Madame… thank you. I'll repay your favor, I promise."

"Tch, who wants your repayment?" Isa tsked, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "Take a platter and go, shoo shoo," She waved the emotional girl away before pausing. "Wait a moment, take Layla with you, or she'll have a few new curves by the afternoon." She shot the glutton a reproachful sidelong glance. "Don't think I didn't notice you sneaking pork strips over there. I never knew a pig would eat a pig."

Layla's face flushed with embarrassment as she hastily replied with her mouth full of food, "Whatever do you mean, Madame? What pork? What pig?"

Isa gently nudged Siduri towards the door and with a playful smile, turned her head, scrunched her nose up, and snorted at Layla, stunning the girl with her unexpected antics. Layla's shocked expressions only fueled Isa's laughter, her troubles momentarily forgotten, and with a final triumphant shout, she exclaimed, "Get out of my kitchen!"