Sorella's memories of her mother were fleeting at best.  As befitted the daughter of Vincenzo Salieri, one of the three Merchant Princes of Tyrus, she was raised by a veritable team of nannies and nurses, who pampered and coddled her in equal measure.  Her mother was more of an occasional presence, equal parts spring beauty and winter frost.  She could remember a few stiff embraces, perhaps a peck on the forehead or cheek now and again during her mother's infrequent visits.  There was also one stinging slap across the cheek for dropping a small vase. But then even those infrequent visits ended, leaving the child with memories that faded as each month went by.

Her father loved her, and doted upon her when his travels brought him back to the warm gold coast of Tyrus.  But the sea was his calling and duty, and only at sea was he truly happy.  At times though, particularly as she grew older and her mother faded further from memory into the recesses of dream, father would take her with him on his journeys, to exotic ports with strange languages spoken by stranger people, all colored by the smells of brine and wood and spices she could not name.  Even as a child, she began to develop a love of the sea that mirrored her father's.  In the way of young girls, she constructed an elaborate fantasy, in which her father had wed the sea itself, and when they sailed together, both were in her true mother's embrace at last.

Though a windjammer was no place for a child, not to mention a little girl, she adapted as though born to the calling, showing strength, hardiness and will far beyond her age.  She also began to show signs of a tactical brilliance, instinctively understanding the whys and wherefores of mercantilism, situational politics and social acumen.  Taught a variant of chess by one crusty sailor, she soon mastered the game to such an extent that she could defeat three skilled players simultaneously.  Her father fairly burst with pride at Sorella's accomplishments, and told her more than once that she was her "mother's girl" -- a phrase that meant little to the child, who felt no real emotional attachment to this "mother" she had not seen for more than five years.

 And then, a few weeks before her ninth birthday, her father told her that they were heading to the port of Amber, a powerful trade partner that Sorella had never visited, though she knew something of its status from books and lessons.

 "That is where your mother, Deirdre of Amber lives.  It is time for her to see what you have become..."




With thanks to Donovan...


With thanks to Melody...