Post by Shareyn Terashima on Mar 13, 2020 19:48:35 GMT
Name: Shareyn Terashima
Age: 22
Nationality: Kandor
Place of Birth: Canluum
Place of Residence: The White Tower
Affiliation: The White Tower, Aes Sedai
Rank/Title: Novice
One Power Strength: 1(5)
Air: 3(8) | Earth: 1(2) | Fire: 1(2) | Spirit: 2(5) | Water: 3(8)
Date they were raised to Novice/Soldier: 106 FA
Date they were raised to Accepted/Dedicated: -
Date they were raised to Aes Sedai/Asha'man: –
Talents: Dreaming
Weave Affinities: None so far
Height: 5’4’’
Weight: 118 lbs
Build/Complexion: Relatively short with a slight build, she has the habit to blend with the environment around her, despite her white Novice dress.
Eye/Hair Color: Black eyes, wavy ash-brown hair.
Distinguishing Features:
Naïve at best, Shareyn is a peculiar girl who is not exactly sure what to do with herself. Hurdled into the chaos of the outside world after having spent the majority of her life in confinement and isolation, her understanding of how things work is tangled and complicated, bordering with the insane. To her, everything comes into a different shade of gray and dualities are simply saturations of one thing or another. Her mind works in metaphors, puzzles, and rhymes and she often talks about mundane things in a way that others find annoying and even pompous. Despite that, she is almost desperate to make friends and tries her best to talk to anyone willing to listen. However, more often than not, she gets lukewarm acceptance which means that even the smallest act of kindness can send her into emotional overdrive.
As a result of her childhood trauma, she is too afraid to break any rules or to get punished which makes her very good at following whatever she is told. Almost too good, in fact, and not once or twice she has been forced to learn that blind obedience is not the way of anyone aspiring to become an Aes Sedai. Nevertheless, she continues to jump like a dear whenever scolded and tries her best to do everything by the book. Moreover, where any other person would have become distrustful if their own mother has done to them what Shareyn’s mother has done to her, she believes everything she is told, creating another reason for herself to frequently visit the Misstress of Novices' office.
It seems that most people prefer to ignore her which is only emphasized of her complete lack of presence in a room. Where an Aes Sedai can will things into being just by the sheer power of their presence and authority, Shareyn is more akin to a ghost - a peculiar side effect of her past which allows her to move around almost unnoticed. This bizarre ability has helped her slip away from heated situations a plenty and has saved her, albeit temporarily, even from the wrath of the Misstress of Kitchens. She carries herself lightly, creating the impression of almost as if she is gliding through the air which has freaked out some of the newer girls at the Tower. During her first years as Novice she used to be very bubbly and talkative but because her almost unnatural enthusiasm was usually met with no desire to reciprocate, she has become more quiet and withdrawn, focusing solely on her studies. In her spare time Shareyn has returned to an old passion and picked a new hobby - clockmaking and calligraphy. Any clocks she managed to get her hands on, were taken apart and rebuild and when she could not find any, she would turn to calligraphy, practicing how to write with both her hands.
Despite being a hard-worker, she would often drift away into her world and forget that she is doing something, leading to a good amount of incidents. Such include but are not limited to: scrubbing the floor AND the shoes of an angry Accepted; grooming horses only to find that several of them are running free in the Gardens; chopping wood, only to almost chop off her leg with the ax, etc. Her absent-mindedness has caused her a great deal of trouble and is something that she is trying to work on but finds exponentially difficult to control. In the end, such difficulties, while a challenge, do not stop her from chasing her dream to one day become an Aes Sedai and make Idir and Jailyn, whom she considers her “True-Mothers”, proud.
Time is such a strange fellow.
It was what grandpa Paran used to say. His bony hands gracefully hovering over the complex clockwork mechanism, he would often think out loud about the nature of time. Sometimes he would curse it, other times his honeyed words would fill out the dry air, vibrating almost magically in the small empty space. Whenever his quiet lullabies started dripping from beneath the thick beard, the little girl could almost swear that the old wooden floor started moving like the water in the small washing basinet, flowing and spilling into the barred window or the withered greyish wallpaper. She would ask grandpa Paran what or who is Time was but instead of answering he would just give her a new puzzle. Here, if you manage to solve this little game, you would learn a bit about Time. Ah, how she loved puzzles! The cogs under the unruly hair would spin and turn, faster, much faster than the metal components grandpa used for his clockwork mechanisms. Hours upon hours she would spend pondering how to solve a puzzle and learn more about Time, her grandpa’s favorite thing, and time itself would stretch as if made of dough as if trying to help her. He would then check her work and if she did it properly, he would use it inside his clocks and tell her a little bit about Time. The last story he ever told was her favorite too. It was about the two brothers – Time and Dream, who can take you anywhere, including to the Outside.
Time is such an unforgiving friend.
After grandpa Paran fell asleep forever and left her to find the end of Time, their attic room looked and felt much emptier. It was almost as if he took a piece of the space around with himself. He took her dreams too. It took two days before Mariela Terashima, the beautiful lady who called herself “Mama” and used to visit them each week to give them their medicine, took grandpa’s body with her. The little girl could not understand why it had to leave too but eventually realized that the clocks that he left behind carried much more of his soul than his fleshy outer shell he had discarded. Their clicking tongues, whispering the secret language of Time, beckoned her, pushing her to close her eyes and keep trying to venture inside the dreams, looking for a trace of her beloved grandpa. Of course, she was not fluent in Time like he was, but he had always encouraged her to try her best and so she did. During the day she would try to help the clocks work better by tweaking the fragile cogs made of metal and crystal, her slender fingers gently reorganizing their bellies until they would sound in harmony. Then, during the night, she would reach out for the Dreams, hoping to find him hidden there but her attempts remained futile. Naturally, she did everything in secret, for “Mama” seemed to hate Time with great passion and had started frequenting the small attic much more after grandpa left on his journey. Where once a 10-minute visit would be enough for her to bring food, medicine and to take out the chamber pot, now she started spending several hours with the little girl. It felt strange. It felt cold. Time would freeze in fear and the minutes would stretch like sourdough until “Mama” left. The girl did not like the visits. Just like she did not the bitter medicine “Mama” brought once a week. It tasted scary and of emptiness. The same emptiness which grandpa Paran has left behind when he went to chase Time. So in front of “Mama”, the girl would only pretend that she was drinking, lest she gets punished. Once left alone, however, she would touch the inside of her mouth and take the emptiness all out. Free of the emptiness, she could help the clocks and sleep better.
Time became her only friend.
The Inside of the attic began to shrink and as Time passed by more often than before, the now grown-up girl started feeling a weird sensation building up behind her eyes. The space which she had occupied with her grandpa started to contract like a wound, getting smaller and smaller, almost as if trying to spit her out. She knew could no longer stay there. Even the clocks‘ kept screaming at her to leave and each night got louder and louder to the point where she would have to stuff her ears with wool from the pillows so she can sleep. One night even the wool could no longer help and she decided she should listen to her oldest friends. It was almost as if Time itself was ushering her to move. And move she did. That night, she looked inside the withered wallpaper hidden behind the big dresser and carefully took out some of the wall‘s bones, revealing a gaping wound. The house, as grandpa Paran used to call it, had a hollow body! Her own body was not hollow but because „Mama“ fed it once per day, it was thin enough to let her slip inside the house‘s body. Did she do it on purpose then? To let her wear the body of the house? The girl was not sure but did not want to ask, in case „Mama“ forbade her from embarking on this new adventure. She soon found that the narrow corridors sprawled the whole house, winding up and down, tracing the outsides of each and every room and sometimes leading to doors which she did not dare open. She spent her nights there, teaching herself how to see in the dark, leaving small scratches to mark each way and for a time found herself perfectly content to mimic the invisible illness „Mama“ claimed was wandering inside her own body. And on nights when she felt her body too drained to continue her ventures, she called her dreams and sometimes, very rarely, the clocks' arms guide her and she would continue exploring the darkness inside the house‘s body.
Time was running out.
For a time she was content to be just a ghost. But the Outside beckoned her, called her despite her not having a name and she soon found herself unable to resist its call. It all started with small bits and baubles finding their way inside her pockets, despite her reluctance to shelter them. With time the runaway things grew in size and she found new interesting puzzles bound between dead animal skin where thousands of small symbols rested peacefully upon thinly slices pieces of trees. She knew Grandpa Paran called them books but she had never seen a real one until then. The symbols reminded her of those of her clocks albeit them being somewhat different. Much to the girl‘s frustration, she could not make out their meaning which sometimes propelled her into brief moments of consideration whether she should ask „Mama“ for help. Naturally, she always decided against it. Even grandpa‘s clocks whispered that „Mama“ was not her friend, and she trusted them much more than the beautiful lady with the feverish gaze. In fact, in the past months her visits have regressed to the previous 10 minutes but the emptiness in the medicine had started growing stronger and stronger, just as „Mama‘s“ conviction that the illness should claim the girl at any given moment. The girl did not know why these words scared her, yet she often found herself trembling with terror at the sound of footsteps approaching her door.
And then there was no Time left.
The clocks were screaming uncontrollably the night before her body started growing as hot as the sunlight spilling inside the attic on a hot summer day. She was drowning in a sea of molten suns while invisible wnter kisses crawled like spiders on her skin, making her body shake uncontrollably. The girl barely managed to part her eyes but each time she did, she could see „Mama's" wide grin. It seemed that the fever delighted „Mama“ immensely and she stayed with the girl till the small hours of the night, holding her hand, murmuring how the time has finally come. Time. She knew „Mama“ hated it and could not understand why she invoked its name so lightly. It seemed that Time hated „Mama“ too because with each of her low whispers It‘s time! the clocks screamed louder and louder, threatening to break free and destroy everything. The girl wanted them both to stop. Ears ringing and lungs on fire, she gasped for air and everything drowned in the darkness ahead.
When she fully opened her eyes, she was alone. The Inside of the room was bathing in the silver moonlight. She no longer lay inside the ocean of molten suns and winter kisses. The attic was empty. The clocks were quiet. It seemed that „Mama“ had left earlier than usual. The room felt emptier than before and the girl knew why. It was time for her to go. Just like her grandpa, she no longer belonged to this space. Her thin body, withered and gray as the crumbling wallpaper, carried her almost instinctively towards the hollow veins of the house. She had no control. One leg before the other, the darkness engulfed her leading her towards something bright and warm. It no longer mattered if „Mama“ would find her secret, the only thing she knew she had to do was to reach the light. Time stretched as dough, once again, flowing between delirious visions and sobering bursts of cold air, until the girl finally reached the door standing behind her and the warmth. One last push. Her hand sunk ahead and she spilled inside a room.
Indir barely finished her weave before she could catch the fragile body.
***
Dear Jailyn,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. As much as I would like to proceed with the proper pleasantries, I am afraid that I am racing against time itself and need to be straight to the point. I am positive that you are immensely enjoying your retirement with the Kin, however, I am in a dire need of your Healing talents and need you to come to Canluum as soon as possible.
I was on my way to Chachin, when I decided to spend several days in Canluum and visit seamstress Berevna. As per your suggestion, I decided to stay at Mistress Terashima‘s house, the famous clock merchant, as it was very close to Berevna‘s atelier. However, on the very first night that I arrived, I noticed Mariela Terashima venturing off to the attic carrying a small tray with food, despite her reassurance that the attic was abandoned. Naturally, this odd lie piqued my interest and I decided to prolong my stay as I conduct a small investigation. Imagine my surprise when I found out that not only was she buying poison but that she was also feeding it to her poor daughter who was locked in the attic her whole life. Before I muffled her screams with a bit of Air, she was going on about how her other daughter was also sick and she had to send this one to her sister. Insane, I tell you! This woman is insane! On top of that, it seemed that the girl has been born with the spark and is currently fighting off what seems an internal infection after surviving the fever. I tried to help her as much as I can but she is so thin and weak that I doubt that she can survive a trip to the Tower. I beckon you to hurry and help as I would hate this poor child to wither away just when she managed to get free.
Yours,
Idir.
***
With the help of the two retired Aes Sedai, Shareyn manages to survive the fever and later goes on to recover completely. She is born with the spark, albeit being of just average strength. Idir and Jailyn know what their duty is but eventually decide to stay behind and help her adjust to her newfound life before sending her off to the Tower. In the meantime, after being trialed, her mother is thrown in jail and the family business is entrusted to a distant relative.The two women spend a couple of years teaching Shareyn all the basics of how society operates, helping her learn how to live among other people. The isolation had rendered the girl clueless of how to communicate with humans and for the first several months she refuses to go out of the house, as the outside frightens and confuses her immensely. The two women coax out her fears and teach her manners; how to read and hold a somewhat normal conversation as well as some simple weaves. Shareyn proves be an intelligent girl who enjoys puzzles and challenges and starts picking up the new lessons very quickly. Nevertheless, despite their best efforts, she continues to be what others would call „bizarre“ at best. Her interpersonal relations continue to suffer from her weird way of understanding and interpreting the world. During this time she decides that the two women are her „True-mothers“ and becomes very attached to them.
Alas, time passes by quicker than three of them have anticipated and one day Idir takes Shareyn to the Tower to become a Novice. Despite being quick to pick up weaves and their patterns, she struggles at making friends as she, herself, is not quite sure what a „friend“ would entail. Her kind and inquisitive nature never stops her from trying to talk to people but some of the girls label her crazy and start avoiding her if they can. This plunges her into a quiet sadness and for the past several months as she starts withdrawing from most human interaction outside of classes and chores and spends her time in the library or the stables. She is not aware that she possesses the Talent of Dreaming as her ventures into Tel'aran'rhiod have always been very brief and concentrated on her trying to escape her attic.
Timeline:
70 FA – Mariela Terashima‘s first daughter, Krasna is born.
80 FA – Diem Terashima, Mariela‘s husband dies in a fight against the Blight.
85 FA – Fever claims Krasna‘s life, sending Mariela‘s mind spiraling down the road of a deep, dangerous depression.
89 FA – Mariela spends the night with a nameless soldier from Andor, sent to support the fight against the Shadowspawn.
90FA – Shareyn is born as the second, nameless daughter of Mariela Terashima but Mariela announces that the babe has died from illness and locks it in the attic with her mad father, a famous clockmaker.
97 FA – Grandpa Paran dies.
103FA – The girl is discovered by Idir Sedai, a retiring Aes Sedai and healed by Jailyn, an Aes Sedai already retired with the Kin. Shareyn is given her official name.
106FA – Shareyn writes down her name in the book of Novices.
Books read: All.
Age: 22
Nationality: Kandor
Place of Birth: Canluum
Place of Residence: The White Tower
Affiliation: The White Tower, Aes Sedai
Rank/Title: Novice
One Power Strength: 1(5)
Air: 3(8) | Earth: 1(2) | Fire: 1(2) | Spirit: 2(5) | Water: 3(8)
Date they were raised to Novice/Soldier: 106 FA
Date they were raised to Accepted/Dedicated: -
Date they were raised to Aes Sedai/Asha'man: –
Talents: Dreaming
Weave Affinities: None so far
APPEARANCE
Height: 5’4’’
Weight: 118 lbs
Build/Complexion: Relatively short with a slight build, she has the habit to blend with the environment around her, despite her white Novice dress.
Eye/Hair Color: Black eyes, wavy ash-brown hair.
Distinguishing Features:
- Pale, almost sickly complexion
- Almond-shaped eyes
- Fidgety, almost skittish movemens
PERSONALITY
Naïve at best, Shareyn is a peculiar girl who is not exactly sure what to do with herself. Hurdled into the chaos of the outside world after having spent the majority of her life in confinement and isolation, her understanding of how things work is tangled and complicated, bordering with the insane. To her, everything comes into a different shade of gray and dualities are simply saturations of one thing or another. Her mind works in metaphors, puzzles, and rhymes and she often talks about mundane things in a way that others find annoying and even pompous. Despite that, she is almost desperate to make friends and tries her best to talk to anyone willing to listen. However, more often than not, she gets lukewarm acceptance which means that even the smallest act of kindness can send her into emotional overdrive.
As a result of her childhood trauma, she is too afraid to break any rules or to get punished which makes her very good at following whatever she is told. Almost too good, in fact, and not once or twice she has been forced to learn that blind obedience is not the way of anyone aspiring to become an Aes Sedai. Nevertheless, she continues to jump like a dear whenever scolded and tries her best to do everything by the book. Moreover, where any other person would have become distrustful if their own mother has done to them what Shareyn’s mother has done to her, she believes everything she is told, creating another reason for herself to frequently visit the Misstress of Novices' office.
It seems that most people prefer to ignore her which is only emphasized of her complete lack of presence in a room. Where an Aes Sedai can will things into being just by the sheer power of their presence and authority, Shareyn is more akin to a ghost - a peculiar side effect of her past which allows her to move around almost unnoticed. This bizarre ability has helped her slip away from heated situations a plenty and has saved her, albeit temporarily, even from the wrath of the Misstress of Kitchens. She carries herself lightly, creating the impression of almost as if she is gliding through the air which has freaked out some of the newer girls at the Tower. During her first years as Novice she used to be very bubbly and talkative but because her almost unnatural enthusiasm was usually met with no desire to reciprocate, she has become more quiet and withdrawn, focusing solely on her studies. In her spare time Shareyn has returned to an old passion and picked a new hobby - clockmaking and calligraphy. Any clocks she managed to get her hands on, were taken apart and rebuild and when she could not find any, she would turn to calligraphy, practicing how to write with both her hands.
Despite being a hard-worker, she would often drift away into her world and forget that she is doing something, leading to a good amount of incidents. Such include but are not limited to: scrubbing the floor AND the shoes of an angry Accepted; grooming horses only to find that several of them are running free in the Gardens; chopping wood, only to almost chop off her leg with the ax, etc. Her absent-mindedness has caused her a great deal of trouble and is something that she is trying to work on but finds exponentially difficult to control. In the end, such difficulties, while a challenge, do not stop her from chasing her dream to one day become an Aes Sedai and make Idir and Jailyn, whom she considers her “True-Mothers”, proud.
HISTORY
Time is such a strange fellow.
It was what grandpa Paran used to say. His bony hands gracefully hovering over the complex clockwork mechanism, he would often think out loud about the nature of time. Sometimes he would curse it, other times his honeyed words would fill out the dry air, vibrating almost magically in the small empty space. Whenever his quiet lullabies started dripping from beneath the thick beard, the little girl could almost swear that the old wooden floor started moving like the water in the small washing basinet, flowing and spilling into the barred window or the withered greyish wallpaper. She would ask grandpa Paran what or who is Time was but instead of answering he would just give her a new puzzle. Here, if you manage to solve this little game, you would learn a bit about Time. Ah, how she loved puzzles! The cogs under the unruly hair would spin and turn, faster, much faster than the metal components grandpa used for his clockwork mechanisms. Hours upon hours she would spend pondering how to solve a puzzle and learn more about Time, her grandpa’s favorite thing, and time itself would stretch as if made of dough as if trying to help her. He would then check her work and if she did it properly, he would use it inside his clocks and tell her a little bit about Time. The last story he ever told was her favorite too. It was about the two brothers – Time and Dream, who can take you anywhere, including to the Outside.
Time is such an unforgiving friend.
After grandpa Paran fell asleep forever and left her to find the end of Time, their attic room looked and felt much emptier. It was almost as if he took a piece of the space around with himself. He took her dreams too. It took two days before Mariela Terashima, the beautiful lady who called herself “Mama” and used to visit them each week to give them their medicine, took grandpa’s body with her. The little girl could not understand why it had to leave too but eventually realized that the clocks that he left behind carried much more of his soul than his fleshy outer shell he had discarded. Their clicking tongues, whispering the secret language of Time, beckoned her, pushing her to close her eyes and keep trying to venture inside the dreams, looking for a trace of her beloved grandpa. Of course, she was not fluent in Time like he was, but he had always encouraged her to try her best and so she did. During the day she would try to help the clocks work better by tweaking the fragile cogs made of metal and crystal, her slender fingers gently reorganizing their bellies until they would sound in harmony. Then, during the night, she would reach out for the Dreams, hoping to find him hidden there but her attempts remained futile. Naturally, she did everything in secret, for “Mama” seemed to hate Time with great passion and had started frequenting the small attic much more after grandpa left on his journey. Where once a 10-minute visit would be enough for her to bring food, medicine and to take out the chamber pot, now she started spending several hours with the little girl. It felt strange. It felt cold. Time would freeze in fear and the minutes would stretch like sourdough until “Mama” left. The girl did not like the visits. Just like she did not the bitter medicine “Mama” brought once a week. It tasted scary and of emptiness. The same emptiness which grandpa Paran has left behind when he went to chase Time. So in front of “Mama”, the girl would only pretend that she was drinking, lest she gets punished. Once left alone, however, she would touch the inside of her mouth and take the emptiness all out. Free of the emptiness, she could help the clocks and sleep better.
Time became her only friend.
The Inside of the attic began to shrink and as Time passed by more often than before, the now grown-up girl started feeling a weird sensation building up behind her eyes. The space which she had occupied with her grandpa started to contract like a wound, getting smaller and smaller, almost as if trying to spit her out. She knew could no longer stay there. Even the clocks‘ kept screaming at her to leave and each night got louder and louder to the point where she would have to stuff her ears with wool from the pillows so she can sleep. One night even the wool could no longer help and she decided she should listen to her oldest friends. It was almost as if Time itself was ushering her to move. And move she did. That night, she looked inside the withered wallpaper hidden behind the big dresser and carefully took out some of the wall‘s bones, revealing a gaping wound. The house, as grandpa Paran used to call it, had a hollow body! Her own body was not hollow but because „Mama“ fed it once per day, it was thin enough to let her slip inside the house‘s body. Did she do it on purpose then? To let her wear the body of the house? The girl was not sure but did not want to ask, in case „Mama“ forbade her from embarking on this new adventure. She soon found that the narrow corridors sprawled the whole house, winding up and down, tracing the outsides of each and every room and sometimes leading to doors which she did not dare open. She spent her nights there, teaching herself how to see in the dark, leaving small scratches to mark each way and for a time found herself perfectly content to mimic the invisible illness „Mama“ claimed was wandering inside her own body. And on nights when she felt her body too drained to continue her ventures, she called her dreams and sometimes, very rarely, the clocks' arms guide her and she would continue exploring the darkness inside the house‘s body.
Time was running out.
For a time she was content to be just a ghost. But the Outside beckoned her, called her despite her not having a name and she soon found herself unable to resist its call. It all started with small bits and baubles finding their way inside her pockets, despite her reluctance to shelter them. With time the runaway things grew in size and she found new interesting puzzles bound between dead animal skin where thousands of small symbols rested peacefully upon thinly slices pieces of trees. She knew Grandpa Paran called them books but she had never seen a real one until then. The symbols reminded her of those of her clocks albeit them being somewhat different. Much to the girl‘s frustration, she could not make out their meaning which sometimes propelled her into brief moments of consideration whether she should ask „Mama“ for help. Naturally, she always decided against it. Even grandpa‘s clocks whispered that „Mama“ was not her friend, and she trusted them much more than the beautiful lady with the feverish gaze. In fact, in the past months her visits have regressed to the previous 10 minutes but the emptiness in the medicine had started growing stronger and stronger, just as „Mama‘s“ conviction that the illness should claim the girl at any given moment. The girl did not know why these words scared her, yet she often found herself trembling with terror at the sound of footsteps approaching her door.
And then there was no Time left.
The clocks were screaming uncontrollably the night before her body started growing as hot as the sunlight spilling inside the attic on a hot summer day. She was drowning in a sea of molten suns while invisible wnter kisses crawled like spiders on her skin, making her body shake uncontrollably. The girl barely managed to part her eyes but each time she did, she could see „Mama's" wide grin. It seemed that the fever delighted „Mama“ immensely and she stayed with the girl till the small hours of the night, holding her hand, murmuring how the time has finally come. Time. She knew „Mama“ hated it and could not understand why she invoked its name so lightly. It seemed that Time hated „Mama“ too because with each of her low whispers It‘s time! the clocks screamed louder and louder, threatening to break free and destroy everything. The girl wanted them both to stop. Ears ringing and lungs on fire, she gasped for air and everything drowned in the darkness ahead.
When she fully opened her eyes, she was alone. The Inside of the room was bathing in the silver moonlight. She no longer lay inside the ocean of molten suns and winter kisses. The attic was empty. The clocks were quiet. It seemed that „Mama“ had left earlier than usual. The room felt emptier than before and the girl knew why. It was time for her to go. Just like her grandpa, she no longer belonged to this space. Her thin body, withered and gray as the crumbling wallpaper, carried her almost instinctively towards the hollow veins of the house. She had no control. One leg before the other, the darkness engulfed her leading her towards something bright and warm. It no longer mattered if „Mama“ would find her secret, the only thing she knew she had to do was to reach the light. Time stretched as dough, once again, flowing between delirious visions and sobering bursts of cold air, until the girl finally reached the door standing behind her and the warmth. One last push. Her hand sunk ahead and she spilled inside a room.
Indir barely finished her weave before she could catch the fragile body.
***
Dear Jailyn,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. As much as I would like to proceed with the proper pleasantries, I am afraid that I am racing against time itself and need to be straight to the point. I am positive that you are immensely enjoying your retirement with the Kin, however, I am in a dire need of your Healing talents and need you to come to Canluum as soon as possible.
I was on my way to Chachin, when I decided to spend several days in Canluum and visit seamstress Berevna. As per your suggestion, I decided to stay at Mistress Terashima‘s house, the famous clock merchant, as it was very close to Berevna‘s atelier. However, on the very first night that I arrived, I noticed Mariela Terashima venturing off to the attic carrying a small tray with food, despite her reassurance that the attic was abandoned. Naturally, this odd lie piqued my interest and I decided to prolong my stay as I conduct a small investigation. Imagine my surprise when I found out that not only was she buying poison but that she was also feeding it to her poor daughter who was locked in the attic her whole life. Before I muffled her screams with a bit of Air, she was going on about how her other daughter was also sick and she had to send this one to her sister. Insane, I tell you! This woman is insane! On top of that, it seemed that the girl has been born with the spark and is currently fighting off what seems an internal infection after surviving the fever. I tried to help her as much as I can but she is so thin and weak that I doubt that she can survive a trip to the Tower. I beckon you to hurry and help as I would hate this poor child to wither away just when she managed to get free.
Yours,
Idir.
***
With the help of the two retired Aes Sedai, Shareyn manages to survive the fever and later goes on to recover completely. She is born with the spark, albeit being of just average strength. Idir and Jailyn know what their duty is but eventually decide to stay behind and help her adjust to her newfound life before sending her off to the Tower. In the meantime, after being trialed, her mother is thrown in jail and the family business is entrusted to a distant relative.The two women spend a couple of years teaching Shareyn all the basics of how society operates, helping her learn how to live among other people. The isolation had rendered the girl clueless of how to communicate with humans and for the first several months she refuses to go out of the house, as the outside frightens and confuses her immensely. The two women coax out her fears and teach her manners; how to read and hold a somewhat normal conversation as well as some simple weaves. Shareyn proves be an intelligent girl who enjoys puzzles and challenges and starts picking up the new lessons very quickly. Nevertheless, despite their best efforts, she continues to be what others would call „bizarre“ at best. Her interpersonal relations continue to suffer from her weird way of understanding and interpreting the world. During this time she decides that the two women are her „True-mothers“ and becomes very attached to them.
Alas, time passes by quicker than three of them have anticipated and one day Idir takes Shareyn to the Tower to become a Novice. Despite being quick to pick up weaves and their patterns, she struggles at making friends as she, herself, is not quite sure what a „friend“ would entail. Her kind and inquisitive nature never stops her from trying to talk to people but some of the girls label her crazy and start avoiding her if they can. This plunges her into a quiet sadness and for the past several months as she starts withdrawing from most human interaction outside of classes and chores and spends her time in the library or the stables. She is not aware that she possesses the Talent of Dreaming as her ventures into Tel'aran'rhiod have always been very brief and concentrated on her trying to escape her attic.
Timeline:
70 FA – Mariela Terashima‘s first daughter, Krasna is born.
80 FA – Diem Terashima, Mariela‘s husband dies in a fight against the Blight.
85 FA – Fever claims Krasna‘s life, sending Mariela‘s mind spiraling down the road of a deep, dangerous depression.
89 FA – Mariela spends the night with a nameless soldier from Andor, sent to support the fight against the Shadowspawn.
90FA – Shareyn is born as the second, nameless daughter of Mariela Terashima but Mariela announces that the babe has died from illness and locks it in the attic with her mad father, a famous clockmaker.
97 FA – Grandpa Paran dies.
103FA – The girl is discovered by Idir Sedai, a retiring Aes Sedai and healed by Jailyn, an Aes Sedai already retired with the Kin. Shareyn is given her official name.
106FA – Shareyn writes down her name in the book of Novices.
Books read: All.
