She was known to visit new slaves that arrived from the mother land. Always dressed modestly, she visited the unfortunate souls in the wee hours of the night. For that, she was rumored to be a future spirit who traveled between the realms to find great stories; unsung tales.
She always had a ledger, an ink bottle and a bright blue quill. "Do you want to be known?" she always asked them. The slaves always replied, "Yes!" delighted at the idea that their stories would be told to the world.
"Fair enough, I just need your name and we're done."
They were always amazed that is all it required. She didn't need to hear their stories. Their names and just observing them carefully told her all she needed to know about them.
"What is your name?" one cunning slave had asked once to her surprise. While many wondered, they never dare asked. They were afraid of the aura she emanated. She was different.
"I'm the Name Thief," she had replied eerily and with too much poise; an unreadable grin lodged on the corner of her brown face.
©Papatia Feauxzar 2017