I’ll give you the whole story.
I had spent three weeks upon a thrice-damned ship. Don’t ask me why I did it; for now we’ll say only that it was necessary. Don’t ask me why I chose a ship when I’m afraid of drowning.
I rode a fisher vessel to the nearest village with a port. Hid out a whole day, knowing how damn close I was to being captured. I bought passage on seven ships under seven different names—and then I slipped away on one of the few vessels that I hadn’t paid for.
You could say that I’m wanted.
I go by Aryin now. I am a necromancer. I am of the most skilled of those within my trade, and I am fleeing for my life within my enemy country, to escape a decree from mine that will kill me if I am found alive.
Though secretly sometimes, though none must ever know it, I am still Navyra of Yoshai.
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