Before

The clear water shimmered as the sun broke into early dawn. The city scope was a palette of colours. it truly was a sight to behold. Charmed tourists from all over the world come to pay a visit to this glorious city.

Trade by the harbour became alive once more, businesses bustling with the sort of mercenaries that had to puff their chests out in much effort to seem half as important. and while they could afford more than a couple fillets of freshly caught salmon, it was the only rarity the hungry peasants could manage to afford.

The wide city berth loomed ahead, ships docking in and out of the already busy sea.

Amongst the congested sea, a bright flame of sodden tangles bobbed up and down the surface of the water. Crimson curls, alive and vibrant against the crystal clear water.

many miles away, in the small corner of a crowded square of dingy buildings, wept a mother. The tears finding solace in the torn shawl wrapped around her bony shoulders. Alice grieved in muffled silence.

Her youngest had been gone for days. And amid the chaos of the bustling trade square she sat hoping for the pity of a strangers' pennies. She didn't enjoy begging like this.it was far from something she'd like to do.But it had to be done, no matter what or where Cassandra was she still had the other 3 to provide for. Even if it meant disgrace to her family, a couple of pennies was worth it. salmon was what she would buy; it was the only thing keeping her and her orphaned children alive. The Deangelos' practically lived off salmon. It was the cheapest, easiest meal to find. And because of that Izzy, Alec and Samuel had grown to hate it. Though they'd all been saving up and even just the thought of them bought back Cassandra and she couldn't help but cry at all the options possible for the disappearance of her beloved daughter.

She shook in disastrous sobs, head in calloused hands straddling the grimy headband. The one Cassandra had worn day in and out. The potent leather , firm and vibrant as if it were still brand new.or just less worn out then the rest of the rags she wore.it had been new once. And now it lay in a state after the torment and sweaty forehead it endured of sitting comfortably on Cassandra's pale brown forehead. Before it turned into something off a ragged cloth it had belonged to a plump duchess by the name of Clair De Lune. Cassandra had puckered it off so gently from her frame, the duchess hadn't batted an eye. she had pried it of the duchesses head with such agility that would have made spinning cloth look easy. her old job as an assistant stream-stress at a ramshackle building had required her to develop such agility and precision.

And now, it was much a shame, that those slender hands were of no use as they flapped about, failing to keep her fragile body afloat. The cold current pushed her deeper into the wrath of the merciless sea.

The oxygen completely knocked out of her lungs. the water stifled her wild screams. and she could almost hear rib cage being crushed by the tons of water that had encased in a shivery cocoon. Silently the harmless water swept into her mouth. The cruel particles cutting off all airflow. She needed to breathe but black was all that exploded through her limited vision.

So she let go and let the water smother her to sleep; no efforts were of prevail anymore.