Cinnabar remembers nothing of her birth parents. Earliest memories recount but sparse details of the day she was found wandering aimlessly about the forest by Alaric Prentice, the man who would henceforth be her father figure and lone parent. She was thereon reared in a comfortable, if solitary steading in the far southern Shroud with Alaric’s existing children- most of which sharing similar adoptive relations as Cinnabar. Ever a quiet child, she did not speak until much later than one would expect one of her apparent age to- clinging to her new father first, and warming to her siblings only after several moons before she would even begin to speak to anyone other than Alaric.
A flourishing childhood would initiate soon however, taking to her father’s tutelage in reading, writing, and assorted arts and crafts, as well as forging companionship with her siblings proper. Still considered the youngest of the Prentice Clan, she was finding her place- despite being furthest removed in a physiological sense from her hyuran father and his born and adopted children. It was in this sequence of cycles that Cinnabar forged the pillars upon which she would remain onward in life, with faith in the Twelve, passion for the piano and Ishgardian culture, a love for reading and writing, and the wisdom that- no matter how bleak life might have seemed, it always has a chance to improve.
With the Garlean incursion pressing in and Dalamud descending in the west, and Gyr Abania long since seized by the Empire to the east, Alaric sought to distance himself and his offspring from the encroaching conflict. With deals made in the southern deserts of Thanalan, the home Cinnabar had come so familiar with; and many possessions therewith; are placed in escrow, and the clan sets to southern roads with their most valuable possessions in tow… Sellswords and freelances accompany here and to, coming and going at various jumping off points… The road is long and followed with extreme caution, allthesame.
All convictions Cinnabar had come to hold would be strained in the final moons of the Era and through the following, however. Before reaching the relative safety of Thanalese soil, during an evening at camp, the family caravan was attacked by marauders. In the flames and furious chaos which ensued, the little roegadyn managed to flee- running, and running, and running… Eventually, finding herself a midst a sea of unfamiliar faces, camped with throngs of refugees outside the towering walls and defiant cupolas of the glistening Jewel of the Desert. Alone- bereft of the man she had come to endear with the entirety of her heart, and the family she had grown to know and love, and with nothing but bloodied feet and the clothes on her back to show- Cinnabar had arrived at the intended destination. To this date, she cannot recall much of the incident.
The trauma of the sudden twist of livelihood leaves her once again without a voice or confidence of her own. Given her circumstances, she was fortunate enough to survive without much aid for a pair of sennights on charity of others in the refugee encampment and whichever, altruistic souls would arrive to deliver succor to the huddled masses as a whole. It was then that the opportunity to earn gil would approach in the form of a man wearing a kind smile with kind words of pity for the misplaced roelette. With little to lose, and little worldly knowledge to be any the wiser, Cinnabar scrawled her name on the bottom line of a contract. Along with the other downtrodden souls who were willing to sign up, she was promptly endowed with a sparse measure of gil and living essentials, and whisked off to the work site…
Circumstances only moved from poor to worse, however, as kind smiles and charitable offerings were realized as debts of servitude, bound by ink on parchment and enforced by more than a few, sadistic overseers eager for any reason to exercise authority. Cinnabar’s unfamiliarity with the intense, manual labor of the quarry, and overall shaken spirits and withdrawn personality made her a prime target for ridicule and torment, leading to no few encounters with taunting or intimidating words- and even blunt objects with intent to batter and bruise. It was, however, by the doing of Bibimuje Fufumuje, stone baron and holder of Cinnabar’s contract, that the girl would be psychologically yoked.