As light and sight returned, Ashlin let out a feeble groan (mainly to convince herself that she was in fact alive). Her eyes darted about and the blurry edges of her vision slowly became clearer. She was in the slums. The walls of this hut were dirty and she could hear the bubbling of a mysterious concoction in a pot next to her bed. The distant smell of rotting bodies, burnt ash and wet dog were all but overbearing for the teenage girl whose life had been shielded from such things. She groaned a second time to alert any possible bystanders of her presence. Who had spotted her in the midst of a battle?

"Oh, I see you're awake my dear" said a deeply haunting voice from across the room. "After day 3 we were almost convinced that you'd never wake up, but my son persisted" the man chuckled. "That's so like him, my Torn. He was entirely convinced that you'd come to your senses in due time".

Not knowing exactly what to make of the situation Ashlin gave a subtle nod. Who was this man? Where was she? Was it close to the palace?

"Oh there's no need to be frightened. My son and I are but humble weavers and cooks. We clothe the hungry and feed the naked" he paused "Or…er that's feed the hungry and clothe the naked". The man laughed heartily and his dim eyes seemed to brighten a bit more. "Please forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Jacob, son of Jacabe. I believe you already know my son Torn" he gestured to a corner of the room where a young man was playing with a needle and a piece of distressed fabric.

Behind strands of braided hair was the boy with blue eyes who had carried Ashlin through the wastelands. Cheeks turning red, he tossed the cloth aside and waved half heartedly.

"Torn there's no need to be shy. I'm sure this young lady won't bite" Jacob brushed a piece of hair out of Ashlin's eyes for her. "See, perfectly harmless" he smiled. "You sustained quite a few injuries you know. Many of them we were able to mend with our tools of the trade" Jacob held up a thin needle and thread.

Ashlin flinched at the thought. She began to feel her face. The shards of metal were gone, but in there place she could feel bits of thread. The man had stitched her face together! Frantically Ashlin's hand's dove about for a mirror, any sort of reflecting glass would do. Jacob caught her before Ashlin's entire arm flew into his cooking pot.

"I know it is common for young ladies to care about their looks, but it was necessary to close up the gashes in your skin to avoid infection or worse" Jacob looked sympathetically to her. "And I'm afraid that we're still not sure if that leg will ever fully heal again. We've avoided amputation just yet for— " but Jacob was cut off.

"Amputate it! You will not touch me with any such intention." She tried feebly to pull herself out of the cot. Ashlin was surprised at her own outburst. It was the first time she has spoken in ages and her voice had nearly cracked from the strain. How would her father react if his daughter returned with thread in her face and seriously lacking in the leg department? Would he cast her out? Hide her from the world? Ashlin did not wish to find out.

"Alright, alright" Jacob tried to calm her down and kept Ashlin from falling out of the bed. "Got some fire in your belly don't you? Well, in any case we expected this would happen. If you wish to keep your leg there is little else we can do then" his dull eyes saddened. "I suppose now would not be the best time to tell her about her hair then, ey Torn?" he turned around to ask his son.

"What about my hair?"

Jacob frowned. "When my son brought you here it was everywhere; stuck in your wounds tangled in armor. We had no choice but to cut it off. I'm so terribly sorry"

Ashlin's fingers touched her shoulders. Her ruby red hair had once weaved all the way down her back, now it did not even grace the tops of her shoulders. Furthermore, it did not flow freely as hair should. It was locked in the same tight braids as Torn's hair.

"Crop Rows" said Jacob, almost as if he had read her mind "to keep the hair out of your face while we were working. Torn and I wear them to keep our hair out of the food we make. Used to be quite the fashion when Damas was King" Jacob touched his own grey Crop Rows.

Suddenly, Ashlin stood very still. Was this man friend or enemy? What if he learned that she was the Baron's daughter? Would he throw her out on the streets with the crokadogs? Jacob and Torn were the first peasants she had ever met outside the palace, the first kind faces she had seen since the battle fronts.

"You know it really was your hair that saved you" Jacob said, interrupting Ashlin's thoughts. "Why, I'm not sure Torn would have seen you had it not been for that mane of red hair you were carrying around".

Ashlin forced a smile. Her father had always told her that the enemy was not just behind their reinforced walls, but within it. There were renegade fighters ready to slit her throat around every turn, the throat of a Baron's daughter. She must be very careful around these men, for who knew what side they were on. It might look suspicious to ask. Then again, this family had saved her. She owed them a life debt—especially to Torn. Until the debt was repaid, Ashlin would never truly be free of the laws that bound the deeds of men.

"What about the old soothsayer?" Once gain Ashlin's thoughts were interrupted, not by Jacob, but by Torn.

"What about her, son?"

"Couldn't she mend the girl's wounds?"

"A soothsayer does not mend the body, but bends the mind" responded Jacob.

"But father, maybe she will know what else we can do for this girl. Maybe Onin can find a way" his fingers shuffled a piece of cloth around. He had the voice of his father, deep and almost menacing were it not for the kind words that flowed from his lips.

Jacob paused for a moment to think, "Tomorrow, you may take her through the back way. Avoid all guards and major roots. That is only of course, if it is all right with you." He turned to ask Ashlin.

"I'll take any and every chance there is to heal my leg" she felt the brace that Jacob or his son must have bound around her lifeless limb. "And please, call me Ashlin".