"You had a family once, do you still remember them?" asked the witch child.
I did.
"Rixy! Rixy, wait up!" a little girl called. She was about two or three years old, curly brown hair bouncing up and down as she ran. And with one giant leap, she fell into my arms.
I laughed. "Now, Annie, you know you can;t come with me to school."
Her little facefell, "Why not?" she demanded.
"Because you're not old enough, Annie."
"You can bring me for show-and-tell!" she said, wiggling in my arms.
There was no arguing with her, I sometimes wonder why I even tried. I decided to put her off. "Maybe tomorrow, alright? We'll have to ask the mother first." I set set her gently on the ground, patting her on the head fondly.
But tomorrow never came, not for my little sister anyways. I came home to ruins that day. The whole house had been burned to ashes. It was the working of rogue dwarves, they say. And then the riders came, and took me away.
I think I would have gone mad, if Jarnunvösk had not hatched for me. She'd been my candle in that endless night, but now, she's gone too.
I had a family once...