“Dreemur family?? Who the hell are they?? Also has that empty head of yours ever heard of adoption? Of course we’re not biologically related. We were both adopted. But I still consider him my older brother despite him running like a coward.”

Asriela was originally part of a fairly prosperous family living in a border town in Arel, but lost most of her family over the course of several years of border incursions between the town and Kigali raiders, who themselves (as it turns out) were displaced and reduced to banditry in the fallout of a war between Celen and Murann. 

In the time while Asriela and the remains of her family were wandering, looking for a new place to establish themselves after the loss of their previous community, Asriela conceives Yarmíl by an unknown father- she refuses to give his name to her family, much to their chagrin, but maintains that her honor was not besmirched and no vengeance is necessary or wanted, and insists on keeping the child, which entitles her to found her own household by Areli tradition. She is an accomplished weaver and a valued member of the community they settle in, and relations with her family normalize as they grow used to the figure of her and her (handsome, and fast-growing) son. 

The village they settle in is large enough to support an inn and  Asriela’s mother-sister also working as an herbwoman and midwife without incurring hostilities, and when she passes (of old age, the lawlessness of the border long since settled), Asriela supports her cousin from time to time as she steps into her deceased mother’s shoes. 

In the middle of all of this, Yarmíl has been growing tall and strong, and taking well to his barehand-fighting lessons- well enough to find work keeping peace in the inn’s pub and finding work on the docks as Asriela’s weaving business slows, her years of hard work beginning to take their toll on her hands.