What is my identity?

"Harder!! Hit harder!!! I said much harder!" The loud but frail voice commanded, as she used the long stick in her hand to push the young girl to pressure, who was almost crying, and sweating profusely in efforts to get what she had been trying to practice her fighting skills over and over again.

"I'm tired! This is hard," she clamored and almost broke down into tears. She could feel the pain from the blisters in her hand, as she brushed the strands of her deep brown hair angrily, that constantly got in the way of her cute and small face.

"You must get it right! With this small and skinny body of yours, are more reasons why you should train harder. And how many times have I told you never to show an outburst of your emotions?" The woman raised her eyes in irritation, and almost dug the stick grasped in her left hand into the young child's skin, "Don't be weak minded!"

"I am hungry. I am so tired," The eight year old girl cried, and sat on the floor with sadness and frustration written over her face. She hated her tough life so much.

"Get up and continue!" She ordered angrily and turned to leave, "No food for you, till you get it right."

"I hate everything! I just hate everything. I really feel like dying. I keep on wondering, if we are the only ones living like this. Under a porous thatched roofed house, where there are barely signs of people around. Little amount of food to eat and where a child like myself cannot play freely, but has to train till she exhausts herself to death. Where they are all isolated and are not allowed mix with lot of people, hiding like rats for reasons they do not........."

"Azalea!!" Hama screamed, cutting the young girl off her ranting with anger burning through her face and entire body. The young child had finally voiced out all her pent-up frustration at a goal, and they were strikingly bitter and toxic.

"Mother!" She replied sharply, as she looked at the scary and fiery look on her mother's face. Her compulsive outburst had gone the wrong way, and her mind had began to chant to her, the dire implications of her irrational behavior. Her mother was so tough and strict, that she so much feared her. She desperately hoped in her heart, that she would survive whatever punishment she was given.

"Never you say anything in your worst feeling. Never you show your emotions in your strongest and most helpless state. Never you fully trust anyone regardless of who." Were the rules her mother had given her sternly, and made her understand how strictly important they were to follow.

But in just few minutes, she had broken two of the three golden rules. She totally knew she was done for.

Realizing what she had said, Azalea sat in that position with her face buried into her palms, she wondered what would happen now that she had raged against her mum. Hot tears had began to flow down her cheeks, that she deeply and desperately wished she could take back her words.

Feeling a shadow fall on her, she had prepared herself and mind for what would happen next. She was expecting strokes of her mother's big stick to hit hard against her soft fair skin, and form hard round balls or bruised lines, that would ache painfully till they mysteriously disappeared again.

But unexpectedly, she felt the soft touch of her mother's hand on her back. They didn't feel like the touch of someone about to be wrathed upon.

"Just please, listen to everything I tell you. You'll get to understand things with time," Hama's voice came softly and appeasing. And just like cold water of a gushing stream, Azalea's mind became eased as she raised up her head and smiled painfully at her mother.

"I am sorry mother. I would never breech the golden rules again," she said apologetically, and fell into her mother's warm embrace. The strong smell of bush weed permeated and clung tightly to her nostrils, as she sank herself more into her mother's bosom. She in her normal self, would have had her face twisted into a grimace, but she liked for the first time, the strong scent.

"When can I start following you to the market?" She suddenly asked, raising her glistening eyes to the face of her mother. Hama already knew her daughter's curious little mind never took a break at all.

What was she expecting?

"Hmnnn, when you are twice your age now," she answered carefully, intently watching to see the expression on her face. She totally knew it would so much displease her.

"Eight, nine, ten......." She counted with her tiny fingers and raised her face suddenly, "When I am sixteen?!" She yelled incredulously. Her happy face, already a blank mark with the reply her mother had just given her.

"That is going to be too long," she mouthed sadly with a frown, and turned to pick up a stone from the brown sand, as she scribbled insignificant things into the sand.

"You'll see. It will pass so fast. And you'll be shocked," Hama tried to soothe her daughter, with her right hand rubbing gently on Azalea's back. Though she knew not what twice her age would be that time, but it was sure a great deal of time passed away.

"Are you going to get me books this time?" She asked her mother again, his eyes glimmering brightly at the mention of books.

"Of course, I will. Your extremely fast learning abilities makes me so proud of you. I just hope the seller would have better ones this time. You know it is from the old libraries of the nobles," Hama explained, scratching the itchy patches that had spread around her neck, "But first, we would have to train."

"That is a fair deal. You would buy me books, then i will train," Azalea agreed happily, and scurried quickly to pick her training stick, "I am ready, master," she pretended to be under her mother's command which made Hama smile.

No matter how naughty the little girl was, she was really so special to her and unique as a child.

"But now, let's get you a hair cut first. Your hair has grown too long," Hama observed, looking at the thick twists on Azalea's hair, "Then you can also eat too. I hope those wild herbs sell tomorrow."

"I love you mother!" Azalea screamed happily and ran into the small, thatched house. Her little feet moving in a rhythmic way that showed how glad she was. Hama watched her daughter from the distance at which she still stood, with so many mind throbbing thoughts running through her head.

Eight years later

Azalea had grown into a fine young lady of sharp defense skills and intellectual intelligence. Even with her precociousness and seldom rebel, she had been groomed by Hama through those years, and had passed all her trials and tests.

"Can I stop grinding this now?" she asked her mother, who was already prepared to leave into the city. She looked more gaunt and sickly than she looked years ago, "I really wonder why I have to grind this much persimmons and evening primrose," she signed tiredly.

"They are rare to find when it's not in their seasons. And that is going to be a big hassle," Hama answered her, "Is it a fine texture?"

"Yes, it is. I have crushed the whole bowl of content into fine pieces," she replied, and gently poured all she had grinded into a long dried jar, putting a tight lid on it, "Now if you would let me, I will take this from you and go to the city in your stead. It is more logical for a young lady like me to quickly attract people to buy."

"Azalea, you have never gone with me and have no idea how I sell this things. Just sit back home and I'll be back in the evening," Her mother tried to dissuade her.

"Mother, you have been working all your days and barely have any strength left. You couldn't even lift your legs to walk yesterday. And, I have actually sneaked up to follow you several times, and also watched how you traded with the dealers themselves. I will be fine on my own," Azalea countered, and regretted what she had just said almost immediately. Her mother wasn't supposed to know in the slightest, that she had secretly followed her.

Hama was quiet for a second and had slowly turned to sit weakly, on the wooden bench in front of the house. Tears had almost began to trickle from her cheeks bitterly, at what her daughter had just revealed. Azalea who was shaken by her mother's sudden sentimental, knelt beside her and began to plead. Her heart broke so much to see her mother in such dismay.

"Mother, I am sorry. I know I shouldn't have followed you, but you are already growing weaker from your frequent illness, and I would have to help you do all this, sooner or later," Azalea explained painfully, hoping her mother would understand her genuine reasons.

"Did you use what I mixed for you?" Hama's voice asked, slowly and anxiously too.

"Yes I did everything that needed to be done."

Hama raised her eyes to look of that of Azalea's, who had so much worry for mother on her face. Slowly, Hama's hand went up to her right cheek as she tugged it gently. Her deep love for Azalea so much reflected in her eyes, she could not afford to see her affected in any way.

"Nothing must happen to you, Azalea. Nothing must!" she swallowed hardly, "You can never go a day without taking your precautions. I will die without you, child," she said in a shaky voice and sobbed gently.

Azalea who could not understand her mother's twisted words, broke down into painful tears. She was so sorry that she had broken her mother's trust and heart.

"I am sorry mother. I am really sorry," she cried, hugging her tightly.

There were surfeit of things that she was so curious about. She would never know, until her mother ever said those words to her. Why something, would ever happen to her. But that broke the barrier of her inability to go to the market by herself.

The first day Azalea went into the city felt so surreal and strange too, as it felt like everyone's attention and gaze was diverted towards only her.

She had adjusted quickly and walked gently the way others did, and carried out their various business in the market.

Due to her quick-wittedness and convincing skills, she sold everything her mother would sell in almost a whole day in just few hours. She had figured out they spoke in different tone that her mother spoke to her, and she actually wondered which was the more refined one.

Her lone life slowly began to take shape and meaning as she related with different people, while her mother's sickness persisted strongly and finally got her bed ridden.

To make things worse that year, a sudden, bad drought hit the whole city and destroyed many crops and also killed animals, making everyone's life entirely difficult. Even theirs was nothing to write home about too, they could barely get water to do things comfortably anymore.

It was also during the times she had gone into the city and had companies of people around her, that she learnt that their city, was the one for some kinds of supernatural beings. Her mother had never said to her anything about that, neither had she spoken about such existence in her years of growing up. And she wondered why it was that. Her sudden discovery, made her curious with surfeit of questions in her mind.

What was their own identity?