Left to herself for a moment she silently curses the existence of Ornthal's companions. Mostly, though, she curses herself. She has spent countless months seeking her brother, but only given passing thought to what would happen when she found him. He is Nameless by choice. He had lived among The People for part of his youth. She had no memories of the two of them there together, though. Those belonged to him and he is not good at sharing.
Opal reflects as she walks away. The People are a long lived race. They do not match the Elves for longevity but they far outpace humans. With physical attributes that call back to both races, though not those two exclusively, many believe The People to be descended from an outcast population of half-elves. Since they live well beyond a century, The People pay little attention to their children. They are raised communally and are rarely seen outside of the Rearing House. Many children give each other nick names there, but among The People, one receives a legitimate name on one's twenty-third birthday. There is an elaborate ceremony and each individual is accepted into society, having a rightful place. Not everyone is named, though. There are those who cannot fulfill the ceremony. Regardless of the cause, if the ceremony is started and left incomplete, the inductee is killed.
There are those, like Ornthal, who reject the way of The People and leave. These are referred to as Nameless. If a Nameless ever does try and return, he is shunned and cast out again. Ornthal took his own name and his three year old sister and spirited out of the village when he was fifteen. He never explained to Opal why he took her with him. The pair wandered, scrounging out the life of pickpocketing street urchins. Opal adored her brother for the first half of her life. He protected her and taught her many things. Mostly things of a criminal nature, but all useful.
One day she picked the pocket of someone who knew her well-practiced tricks. "How dare you use the knowledge and skills of The People for such..." he trailed off as he looked into the face of a child of The People. One he did not know, but looked to be about 14 years old. "Where do you stay, Child?" Fear gripped Opal She'd never been caught before. She thrashed and tried to break away. "Calm yourself, I'm not going to harm you. Would you like a meal?"
Opal stopped fighting. She hadn't eaten a proper meal in a long while. The man took her to the market and bought her some apples, smoked meats, and cheese. He stared at her as she ate. She felt comfortable but wary with him. He asked her if she knew of The People and seemed disappointed when she didn't. He told her he thought her to be one The People, but he had said us. No one had ever used the inclusive word at her except Ornthal. At the thought of him she ran away without an apology.
"What do you know of The People?" Opal asked her brother through the darkness that night. She could not see his face across the room they had hidden away in but she could hear the wrath, and maybe fear, in his reply.
"Where did you hear of such a thing?" He almost seemed to growl his response.
"A Man today, he caught me stealing from him. Then he bought me lunch." Ornthal didn't answer her.
In the morning, they left the city.
