Chia sat on a crate in the main square, her silky and smooth voice enchanting all those who deigned to listen.  A group of children sat before her, their eyes lit up, listening to the tale that she told. A few of them were at her feet, depositing coins into an iron pot. She offered a brief smile to those who gave her tips. The story seemed to be getting more intense by the moment, children holding their breaths and leaning towards the black-haired woman, trying to catch more of the story.   
 
	Chia launched into the climax, an infant's black-haired head peeking over her shoulder.  The infant child giggled, laughing at something unbeknownst to the rest of the crowd, and then playing with her mother's dress. The dress itself was made of red cloth, with lots of little beads decorating it. Chia had a simple brown shawl thrown over the dress. The dress itself was almost falling apart at the seams, having been patched up far too many times to count. The hem at the bottom was ripped, and the sandals on her feet showed significant signs of wear.  The infant on her back played with her shawl, giggling.  
 
	After getting the climax over with, Chia lapsed into the song bit of the story. Now this part was much different, because her singing voice was melodic and high. Her singing attracted the attention of the crowd, turning heads and drawing oohs and ahhs. To those children that listened, they felt a faint sense of wonder and joy. A few children began clapping to the beat, laughing with glee. The infant on her back beamed, giggling. Chia grinned as well. Shouldn't these people know what to expect? She was a Tamasheq, after all, and Tamasheqs were the best storytellers around. 
 
	Her smile dissolved, although she kept on singing. When she was a little girl, she had traveled with her tribe, in their caravans and tents. Although life had been hard in the desert, she had her tribe to support her and love her. But not anymore. Her mood turned grim as she remembered the way they had callously tossed out young Chia into the unforgiving wilderness. She remembered the way that she had almost died out in the wilderness before finding an oasis to drink from.  
 
	But the Temasheq gods were unforgiving of those who harbored magic in their veins. And she had always known this, had known it since she was a little girl listening to the stories of the gods. She couldn't help but ask [i]why[/i] the gods hated the gifted. Did they have a personal vendetta against them? Did they think that they offended the gods? Chia plastered a smile on her face while singing. Whatever the gods thought, this was her life now. Her child, her stories, traveling across the world. Although she felt shame, she would accept this life.