astarael.

The Often Orphan’s sister had a name once.

It’s been long since forgotten.

We call her Sorella these days.

Sorella likes long walks on the beach, reading her tattered encyclopedias, and dreaming about the Upper World. 

Orphan doesn’t seem to mind it down here.

He always was good at entertaining himself.

It’s been too many years, and Sorella is bored.

She’s tired.

She’s done.

Change is necessary.

Right?

She glances cautiously over her shoulder.

Orphan would be incensed if he heard her thinking like this.

She must stop.

Must.

Should.

Ought.

Sighing, she shifts her weight.

She needs a new hobby.

For now, she creates puddles, sits in them, and attempts to remember her name.

Forgotten name, forgotten girl.

Oh, memory.