Sina loves climbing. She loves running. She loves mud, for some reason. She loves exploring.

Today, she found a way to slip past the perimeter guards--sheer luck, for they are alert and vigilant--and creep quietly through the caves beyond. It's more frightening than she thought it would be, with no adults nearby to warn her if something looks off. But she has her own eyes, her own instincts, and Merrick has trained her well in self-defense.

For some reason, she has the idea in her head that the surface is not far from here. Or if it's not, maybe there's something wondrous the next cave over, or someplace safer, or someone who needs help. Wouldn't it be a good start for a little girl dreaming of becoming an Arcane Warrior one day, to be a heroine before the age of five?

When she screams, it's not really because she's afraid. It's because that's what she was taught to do when danger presents itself, to bring the adults running. Never in play, only for real. Out comes the solid oak walking stick made from a surface souvenir, swinging at a face with too many eyes and a body with too many legs.

All right, maybe she's a little afraid.