Nothbound Pilgrimage - First Book Extras

Shifting Sands I - The Spare

Author's Note:

Dear all,

It's time for another backstory ;) Technically this one was revealed only in Book two, but there's no major spoilers in it to avoid in my opinion, so in case you haven't read Book two yet, the small passage that mentions this story will serve more as a short recap rather than a teaser ;) I thought it was more fitting to put this one in First Book Extras.

I'm being vague, but I'm pretty sure the title already says it all about the subject of this story :D Also I've been telling people that I'll write this one for ages :D

I hope you'll enjoy a little trip westward, across the Dragontail Mountains and the Alik'r Desert into the beautiful city of Sentinel (and yes, most people from Hammerfell I write about are from Sentinel. I just like that city :D )

Enjoy the read <3

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"Iman!"

Satakal's word, calm down, woman.

"Iman! Where have you run off to?"

"I am here, mother," Iman growled at her own reflection in the mirror, even though the words were directed somewhere else.

She couldn't help but loathe that reflection at that very moment. So pretty. So fancy. The bright-green lace dress, adorned with golden accents and jewelry, was marvelous. It was perfection. So was her long dark hair, coiffed into a beautiful updo. So was the subtle makeup on her dark skin, so were the golden sandals on her feet. Everything was just as it should have been. Just as it had been decided.

It was only the fact that she had no voice in any of these decisions that soured Iman to the sight.

Tonight was the night she was to meet her for the first time. That woman her parents decided was a perfect fit for her. And why wouldn't she be? She had status with the right people, connections where it counted. She was the one thing that would make the 'spare' useful to their house.

That was all she was. The spare after the heir. Her older brother was the firstborn – he was the one making the family proud left and right. Business relations, prospective wife from a good family and a child already on the way. He always excelled – in his studies, when he took over the family trade, when he was supposed to represent in public.

She, on the other hand, was more interested in spending time in tobacco dens filled with artists and dissidents, brave enough to express themselves against the powers that be. At first, when one of her friends began inviting her to such places, she worried immensely. She was a noble – it oozed from every fiber of her being after all. They would not take kindly to her in such places. But she was too intrigued to resist seeing a new part of Sentinel, one hidden from the surface view and glitz and glitter of the golden domes and silk drapes above.

Much to her surprise though, she wasn't the only noble with the craving for something unusual. There were plenty of them already there, enjoying the artistic and unconventional world beneath. She felt at ease there. She felt inspired and empowered, hearing all those people speak their mind and express themselves however they wished. The things she could never do.

But of course, her lifestyle was not to her family's liking. She was supposed to follow in her brother's footsteps – she was supposed to be there, just in case, spend her life as his shadow, wallowing in spite and hatred, hoping that something tragic would befall him just so that she could take her rightful place.

But that was never what she wanted. The last thing she did was envy her brother. He was caged. He was chained. Their younger siblings had more freedom in their choices, but not him. And not her. Despite her 'rebellions' there were still those expectations looming over her.