[5 years before the Brevon Incident]
For most of the city of Shang Mu, life is good: the economy is strong, unemployment is low, and there's plenty of money to go around. However, as with any city, there are certain areas where, no matter how wealthy the city may be, never seem to see any of it. And despite the best efforts of several charities, the public prefers to remain in ignorance of these areas.
Mid‑afternoon, and a young olive‑furred lynx with short‑cropped hair of a darker shade makes her way home in one of these areas. At the tender age of eleven, she is still naïve about the way the world truly works. She hopes that one day, she will be taken from this deprived area and given a chance to make her own way in the world. Her dream: to be a singer or a dancer, to dazzle crowds with her beauty and elegance.
But such dreams are a long way away from her reality. Towing behind her a heavy cart laden with groceries, she tries to keep her spirits up by humming a cheerful ditty, an effort that's semi‑successful at best. A quick check of her watch shows that she's just about on schedule. Despite this, she ups her pace a little, knowing that if she's late, her parents won't be happy. And when her parents aren't happy…
The lynx pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind, instead mentally designing her stage outfit for when she ascends to the ranks of stardom. Her mind conjures a beautiful and mesmerising teal‑and‑azure dress, black high‑heels, white gloves, and an emerald‑studded silver tiara. Her forest‑green hair is long and flowing, draped down one side of her face in an elegant wave‑
A sudden grinding and a sharp tug on her arm breaks the lynx from her reverie: the cart has lost a wheel and is dragging noisily along the tarmac. In a fit of panic, the lynx chases down the errant wheel: thankfully, it stops just ten feet from the cart. With excessive urgency, the lynx returns to the cart and attempts to refit the wheel, but is severely hampered by the weight of the laden cart.
Desperately, the lynx pushes the cart to the kerb, aiming to get the end of the axle in the air. It takes her a full minute, but she manages eventually. And seconds later, the wheel is reattached. The lynx prays to the Ancients that her repair job will hold until she gets home. With a great heave, the lynx gets the cart fully on the pavement once more, and engages the brake to prevent the cart rolling away while she rests.
For a few minutes, the lynx leans against the cart, watching the smattering of citizens totally ignore her. No‑one had stopped to help her repair the cart. This does not surprise her though: as far as she is aware, such behaviour is normal. Once her breath is recovered and her arm muscles no longer burn, the lynx checks the time: the broken wheel had cost her a full seven minutes.
Her heart rate spikes as the lynx imagines her parents' reactions to her tardiness, and she screws her eyes shut tight as memories of previous punishments flash through her mind. Knowing there's no escape, the lynx wipes the tear from her eye, then resumes her journey home.
A home she desperately wants to leave forever.