A Little Room Away from the Crowd... {Saishai's Home}

[Saishai Nahe]

Life hadn’t truly been kind to the small Kemite; neither had it been to the entirety of her possessions in the material world. Patterns ago the deed to a small, run-down dorm in the city of Frigid River had fallen into Saishai’s tiny hands, means by which notwithstanding. At the time she hadn’t known of a city named ‘Frigid River’; the province of Arakmat had been her home until necessity for more easy pickings had changed her place of residence to Archadoon. But even that city had found itself too small for the Kemite’s taste and, well, need for space – or new faces in the population, whichever came first.

So now the miniature humanoid had made her way across the Empire to the province of Lauryl, and at great expense to her pocket. Nearly an era ago she had managed to strike it lucky with a band of thieves skilled even greater than herself and with equally as ambitious plans. Her take had been larger than her wildest dreams, even though it was barely a percentage of what the rest had gathered. Still, Saishai wasn’t one to complain. As long as she could hear the jingle of gold in her pocket, just enough to buy her the next meal or the next place to rest her head, she was content.

Now, however, the Kemite had finally made her way toward what would, with a little luck, be a permanent place to rest that dark-shod head. The deed had once belonged to a rather careless traveler on the side of the road, but now it was hers. It was little concern to the girl that at the barest hint of her residence those representing the law wouldn’t hesitate in extricating their form of justice. Then again, little really did concern the Kemite. She was a brightening-to-brightening sort of creature, and life just wasn’t worth the worries normal people placed on themselves.

The house itself was but one room and sparsely furnished, run-down and cheapened with the effects of weather and neglect. The outside was something almost a patch of green grass, although it was hard to tell what vegetation was and what was dirt and mud. The remnants of what had once been a picket fence had fallen into splinters and disintegrated with the passage of time.

At the front of the home, mud clung to the panes of the windows, all showing clear signs of neglect. The door hung barely on its latches, swinging inward at the gentlest touch to reveal a barren room, covered only by the rags of a rug on the floor and a pair of chairs set by a makeshift table toward the right. The left had a countertop and a small fireplace with a trio of mismatched pots and pans on its hearth, ashes scattered to either side with the breath of the wind. At the very back corner of the single room stood the bed, covered with what once had been two rather large green blankets but now was reduced to a mere stand for a few shards of fabric offering a mediocre source of protection from the chill of the weather.