Sryyl's mother was a good woman, but he never got a chance to know that. A traveling monk and his young ward found the tiefling child caked in mud and clinging to the hem of his dead mother's robe. They never unearthed her body from the mudslide.
Elia, the monk's ward, and Sryyl were both left with the Charity House of Eldath to be raised along with other foundlings by the house matron and the brothers of the local church. It was several weeks before he spoke to anyone, and by then the nickname Mums had stuck. When he told the house matron his name was Sryyl, she frowned at the Abyssal word she didn't understand. To the commoners his name sounded like a spitting curse of brimstone. They had no idea it meant “little songbird,” and Mums didn't think it worth mentioning. Up until then, only Elia had insisted he could talk, he just didn't want to.
He grew into a quiet, reserved youth—reliable when it came to chores and rela