She’s only eight years old when she waited for several weeks for her parents to come back. It was unlike them, for them to be away for so long. She waited and waited, but they never showed up. While she watched her parents’ friend make clothes, she would sometimes gaze outside to see if they would show up. They never did. She eventually gave them up for dead and the thought of them dead caused her to cry for a good long while, usually into a pillow that was her temporary bed. She didn’t want to be an orphan and have bad things done to her because she was one. She wanted to be with her parents again and she was frightened by the fact that they were never coming back and she would be left alone and gods above her feelings were all over the place when it came to this. Honestly, she thought she was going to end up as a street urchin that she would sometimes see as they played in the slums. Not so, for after a while she got used to living with the tailor, thinking that he was only keeping her around for some company. When she asked him, timidly, if she was going to not have a bed anymore, his reply stunned her and caused her to cry again. He wanted her to stay, stay and live a comfortable life once more as an orphan, but also as an apprentice tailor. She didn’t know what to make of his kindness and so she did all that she could so that she wouldn’t be a burden to him. It was a lot of work at first, with him supervising the little girl as she learned how to sew. Sometimes he would point out mistakes, but other times she would do flawlessly and praised her for it. She could only work solemnly, listening to the instructions her master gave her as she sewed. It took her entire concentration to work on a peace and she found that she loved focusing on her work, making something beautiful for someone to wear. It wasn’t a little while later after she was made into an apprentice that she learned how to use magic. She would normally sew by candlelight, the dim lighting making it hard for her to see if her stiches were too wide or if she bunched the cloth in some areas. She had only imagined that a light would appear before her as she whispered the word. Next thing she knew, a ball of light illuminated the entire area and she had to shield her eyes from the brilliance of it. Surprised, the girl managed to extinguish it and tried it again and again. She only stopped once she got tired and went back to bed, her work unfinished. So she spent her days sewing, day and occasionally night, learning the trade that was being a tailor. She loved it, and she would be happy when someone bought her clothes that she made herself or when her master praised her. It meant that she wasn’t useless at all, that she was helping him get by with her clothing. And she continued to work her hardest to make the best products she could ever make. Four years have passed since she first became his apprentice and she couldn’t help but look back on the childish her that cried because her parents were gone. She had become older, wiser, a hard worker to the very end. But she didn’t mind, for she was still learning things from her master. And Zia would continue to learn from her master until she would one day no longer be his apprentice.
