[PillowChalk]

My childhood was a nomadic journey that led me across the vast tapestry of Eternia. As a young gypsy, my family and I roamed from town to town, bringing our skills, traditions, and stories to the communities we encountered. I was born under the starry desert skies, and the allure of the unknown always beckoned to me. Our life was one of adventure and uncertainty, and I reveled in the freedom it offered.

The turning point in my life came when I was but a child. It was a day like any other when I first experienced a vision—one that forever altered the course of my destiny. My mother, a kind and gentle woman who had taught me the ways of the Timekeeper, had decided to venture into the latest bustling town we stopped at to gather supplies and groceries for our family. I, on the other hand, had an unsettling feeling, a premonition that sent shivers down my spine.

I clung to her skirt, my small voice quivering as I begged her not to go. "P-Please Mommy ... don't go to town today. I've seen something... something terrible," I implored, my eyes filled with fear.

She knelt down, her eyes soft with a mother's love and concern. She ran her fingers through my hair and smiled reassuringly. "Paraskevi, my sweet child, you have such an imagination. But please, darling, don't burden your heart with such dark thoughts. Life is too precious to be clouded by such fears."

Despite my pleas and frantic warnings, she gently pried my fingers from her skirt and made her way into town, her kindness a soothing presence that I would forever treasure. I knew that her footsteps would lead her into the path of a thief, one driven by desperation. He had taken her life, leaving her bloodstained and broken on the cobblestone streets.

I had watched it all unfold—the knife gleaming in the thief's hand, the desperate struggle, the agonizing pain that crossed my mother's face. I was helpless, frozen in time, an unwilling observer of my mother's tragic end.

When my family learned of my visions, they gradually warmed up to the idea, realizing that they were not mere flights of fancy. The people we encountered, however, were a different story. I would tell fortunes to those who sought guidance, and my visions were met with mixed reviews. Some were in awe of the glimpses into their lives, while others viewed me with suspicion and fear.

These reactions weighed heavily on my young heart. The negativity surrounding my gift left me isolated and lonely, my joyful spirit gradually fading into a quiet child and, later, a reclusive teenager. I was terrified of touching people, fearing that physical contact would unleash a torrent of horrifying visions about their futures.

It was during this time of inner turmoil that I discovered a way to harness my abilities and find solace in the dance. The rhythmic movements and intricate steps of dance offered a means to express my emotions and channel my visions. Over the years, I became an abacomancer, merging my gift with my talent—finding that dancing was as intimate as it was joyful. Not one dance is the same.

Yet, the deepest wellspring of my power, and the profound connection I share with Memoria, is rooted in my mother's tragic death. It was through that loss that I grasped the true essence of time—its fragility, its merciless nature, and the way it leaves an indelible mark on our souls.

The grief I experienced, the visions I bore witness to, and the dance that became my sanctuary all converged into a profound union with Him. His presence resonates in my every vision, his wisdom guiding my steps, and his compassion soothing my deepest wounds.

My mother is with me in ways more profound than mere memory. Her ashes are forever intertwined with the very sands I manipulate in my visions. I carry her essence within me, a constant presence that serves as a reminder of the deep connection between life and in my Timekeeper.