Dagny Rackham

[Dagny]

When I was young, my mother fell ill with a fever. None of the Wise Women knew what to do to cure her, and it took her quickly. In a matter of a couple of days she went from the vibrant woman I remember tending her garden, to the grave. For most of my life it was just me and my father. He was a dutiful parent and raised me with love and protectiveness, teaching me patiently to read, ride, duel and take care of the garden; and telling me fanciful stories of his native home in the Borderlands. On my 16th name day he told me that I was old enough to make my way in the world, and to find a good place where someone would take me on as an apprentice, that I might learn a trade to support myself. When I came to tell him that I had found an apprenticeship with Reader Marna, he seemed proud and glad, but a bit distracted. I will never forget what he said to me.

"I have some unfinished business. Now that you are safe and doing well dear, there is something I must do. I will be going on a long journey and mayhaps I won't ever return, but an unfulfilled oath can weigh heavy on a man's soul, so I will do as I must. The longer you leave a rope knotted, the worse the kink will be. Now, do everything you do as well as you can, and keep your ropes in order. Find a place where you can make a difference, and make that difference. The Creator shelters those who serve the Light not just in word but in deed. The world is not made by titles and coin, but by action and those brave enough ride to action when it is needed."

So it was that I took to my studies with a will, waiting for some word of my father, which never came. I worry and wonder what has become of him, but I cannot fault him. He never did poorly by me, and whatever his other obligation, he raised me faithfully before going to fulfill his mysterious oath. I hope that with my studies, perhaps I can keep some other little girl from losing her mother. When I grew tired of errands or weeding, grinding and mixing, I would remind myself of why I must work so hard, saying to myself "You can make a difference, make that difference." and summoning the foggy picture of my mother from somewhere in the depths of my memories...