From the Beginning..

"You're going somewhere. One of these days...One of these days..Is it today?"

She heard that same phrase, every morning, until she was nine years old. It was her parent's way of encouraging her to be hopeful. That things really weren't as bad as they seemed.

The two-bedroom apartment was hardly a home, more of a garbage can with furniture. Between the cockroaches and the distinctly fishy smell that omitted from the master bedroom, Kristia couldn't decide which was worse. Even as a small child she recognized the awful conditions her family lived in, but still, it was home. Home was not only a miserable space, but in a miserable location. It was above a hole-in-the-wall bar called, 'Barque's Hearth,' run by Bassion Barque himself. Bassion was a short, repugnant man, with a large belly and not a stitch of hair left on his shiny bald skull. He was known for his loud mouth, gambling baits, and his women.

Especially his women. Short, tall, skinny, fat, young, old - it didn't matter. Any woman could be in the running for becoming one of Bassion's whores, the he found most success with younger girls who'd been sent from their homes to find a proper husband. Instead of the 'chains of marriage', as Bassion would say, he'd offer them a place to live, food, some money, and love.

In exchange, they'd simply have to spread their love, and their legs, to others for a set fee, of which he would retain forty percent of all profits. It didn't really sound so bad, compared to that conditions that some of these women were living in, but realistically Bassion was an abusive pump, who raped women of their money and dignity. For all his faults, Bassion was quite the business man. Which is how Kristia and her family came to be living above his rotten bar to begin with. She was only seven when she first met Bassion, her younger sister Kaylyn was six, and her eldest sister, Gwynlyn, was nine. Before this, her parents had simply moved all three girls from one place to the next, they never stayed anywhere longer then a few months. So when Kristia's parents stepped into the bar, asking for board in exchange for labor around the establishment. Bassion, however, had a different idea. His greedy bug eyes locked onto Gwnylyn, who even as a child was quite a sight. The only blond girl between the other two redheads, she stuck out like a sore thumb. She was fair skinned, and her tiny eyes and lips looked as if they had been hand painted onto her, much like a perfect doll. A place to live, for however long it took for the family to get back on their feet, in exchange for Gwynlyn being turned over to him as soon as she had reached her teenage years. They didn't even take a moment to discuss, the agreement was made and a contract was signed. Kristia never saw Gwnylyn get turned over to Bassion, because she left home before then. She was given another way out.

Dalamar was hard to explain.

On the surface, he appeared to be the perfect gentleman. Well-groomed and worldly, he seemed to know a little bit about everything. He was a scholar; teacher, poet, swordsman, merchant...the list would go on and on. Everyone in town knew of him, though very few could claim they had ever seen his face.

He was a name. And behind his name was power and wealth, though no one knew much of the man that lived behind the iron-wrought gates.

Kristia could hardly contain herself when Dalamar brought her home. To his Victorian-styled mansion, Chateau-sur-Mer.

Chateau-sur-Mer was a pillar in the community of architecture. It was the most palatial residence for miles and the people in his town looked at it as fit for a God. The walls, furniture, ceramics, and even the stenciling were from the Victorian age. The mansion was old but well-kept, and stood in a category all it's own. One hundred and fifty rooms, each decorated with silk curtains, satin sheets, and the most precise furnishing. The largest room in the Chateau was called the Grand Odette. It was a ballroom that could comfortably hold two-thousand guests. Beautiful events with beautiful people often took place in that ballroom. The fanciful chandelier had a blue lacquered globe strewn with gold stars above a glass bowl. The twelve signs of the zodiac wrapped around the pole on a gilt bronze band. Inside the globe, a hundred or so brightly colored fish swam above the dancing guests. It was a sight that stole the very breath from a person's mouth.

The Chateau was never empty. Doors were heard opening and slamming shut all day long. Servants always seem busy, bringing boxes in and out. Cleaning. Cooking. Anything that needed to be tended too, there were always a hundred hands willing to serve. It was the first thing Kristia noticed when they came to the Chateau.

"Welcome to my home," Dalamar spoke gently as he dismounted from his horse, passing the reigns off to an approaching servant. Another man patiently awaited Kristia to do the same but all she could do was stare at the beautiful building.

"You...live here?" She asked, bewildered. The awaiting servant cleared his throat, to remind her that he was standing there. She gave him a sheepish grin and crawled down from her horse, still in awe of her surroundings. Both animals were promptly taken off to the side, then disappearing behind the house. Dalamar pointed at them.

"The stable is behind the house. Once we pick you out your own horse, you might want to remember that." The statement said with a smile and a wink from Dalamar. He took her hand and led her to the stairs. Kristia could only shuffle along, her mouth gaping open. This simply had to be a joke...or a dream.

At the top of the marble stairs, stood three figures. One was a short, plump woman with white curly hair and rosy cheeks. She was smiling, wiping her hands off on her apron, and then reaching out for Kristia.

"Come here, deary. Let me have a look at you." Before Kristia could respond, the woman swept her up in one big bear hug. Squeezing the tiny girl, the woman shook her head in disapproval. "Look here now! You're nothin' but a bag o' tiny bones, girl. We'll need to put some meat on that body o' yours!"

Dalamar simply smiled. "This is Marina, our cook and mother hen." Marina finally released her hold on Kristia as Dalamar gestured to the other two men standing besides the cook. "Marco, the event coordinator and Lionel Jacobs, our accountant."

Marco was the youngest of the three standing, probably somewhere in his early twenties. He was quite attractive, with a muscled torso and wavy brown locks. He wore black slacks and a buttoned-up white shirt, but even with the clothing his fit shape was noticeable. He smiled at Kristia, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. "That is a silly way of saying that I make sure everyone is doing what they should be. A pleasure, Miss." Marco bowed down and reached to plant a kiss on her knuckles. Kristia's face turned to match the color of her curls.

Lionel was not quite as friendly. He was a thin man, who had developed a small hump on his back from his crouched-over stance. He was practically bald, save for a patch of fuzz just behind his ears. His skin was so wrinkled it looked as if it was ready to fall off. He grimaced, pointing a crooked finger at her face, "Stay out of my way."

Kristia blinked; worriedly. She looked from Lionel to Dalamar, searching his face for some comforting response. The thin-man scared her. Dalamar, seeing this, responded appropriately, placing his hands upon the girl's shoulders.

"Lionel is who you will go to if you need any funds. He seems rough now, but he's harmless. Remember these names and faces, Kristia. These three run my household according to my will. When I am away, they will be responsible for your well-being."

She was still gazing up at Dalamar, nodding slowly. She imagined that she'd go to Marina or Marco before ever approaching the balding, angry-looking Lionel. The older man scared her and it was written all over her face. However, her fear was quickly abandoned when other thoughts popped into her head. Why was Dalamar being so kind to her" And why would he introduce her to such people" Wasn't she a slave" Shouldn't they be throwing labor at her"

"Dal...Dalamar...I don't mean to be rude...but.." Kristia hesitated. She didn't want to blow this dream but she needed things to be laid out for her. She was under the pretention that she was going to slave away all day, and here this man was treating her like she was going to be royalty. "Who is my foreman?" She then glanced at Marina. "Or am I going to cook" I'm not much of one," She looked down to the floor, "Mother says I burn things. She says I would have been better off being born a man, or not born at all. But I have muscle!" The small girl raised her skinny arm, flexing it. Her forearm tightened, a tiny muscle evident. "I can work fields!"

Marina began to laugh. Dalamar silenced her with a wave of his hand, dismissing all three. No one questioned him. Marina, Marco, and Lionel all turned and went in their seperate ways to return to their daily tasks. Dalamar pushed back the flanks of his coat, sitting down on the top stare. He patted a hand besides him.

"Sit down, Kristia."

She responded immediately, crouching down and carefully settling onto the spot next to him. She was happy to sit. The week long trip on horseback had made her weak. Dalamar had been in a haste, they had barely spoke the entire trip and stopped only to sleep. The days of bouncing around on the equine's back had made her spine ache. Placing her hands in her lap, she began twiddling her thumbs nervously. Dalamar reached out, placing his larger hand over her fidgeting fingers.

"Last week was not the first time I met you. You wouldn't remember because you were so young...I was in Breelin on business, and your mother had you and your older sister. She was bartering with a merchant and you and your sister began fighting. I'm not sure what it was over, but your sister pushed you and ran off. You fell and began to cry. I picked you up and asked you why you were crying."

He stopped his story, glancing into the young child's eyes to see if she had any recognition of the story. She didn't and that didn't surprise him. He smiled warmly at her.

"You told me that your sister had pushed you and called you names. So I asked if you were hurt. And you know what you did" You wiped your own eyes, took a deep breath and told me, 'I'm a rock. She can't hurt me.' There I was, dealing with all these whiny business men, and this tiny four year old redhead was stronger then most grown men I knew. I went to tell your mother how impressed I was by you and she just dismissed me."

That wasn't entirely true. Kristia's mother had told Dalamar that he was a fool. That little Kristia was a useless oaf that ate too much and never shut her mouth. She was headstrong and rowdy and a complete waste of space.

Dalamar had seen in that very moment that her mother would always overlook her. He decided then that he would do something with that child that had such potential. During his story he decided to keep that last bit out. All it could do was cause Kristia unnecessary pain and make her dwell on the past. And that was the opposite of what Dalamar wanted. He wanted her to forget her past completely and focus on her bright future.

"So I sought out Bassion who arranged a meeting with your parents...Never did I intend to bring you here to serve, Kristia." He released her hands, cupping her chin and drawing her face upwards to look at him.

She did so, her eyes slowly moving from the spot on the floor onto his face. She was imagining the whole scene in her head, trying to recall some memory of it all happening. She couldn't, but she still smiled back at him.

"I want to teach you things. I'm going to take that beautiful mind of yours and expand it. You're going to learn everything I know and do something wonderful with it. I can feel it. You're going to be...a legend."

That was the first time anyone had acknowledge that Kristia had any potential.

That night, she slept like a baby.

All the while dreaming of the beautiful things to come.