She takes one last look around the familiar room, the leaded windows and dark walls all laid out in perfect symmetry with the dark four poster bed placed squarely between two windows. For a brief moment her eyes focus on the embroidery stand with a floral chair cushion in progress. Someone else will have to finish this as she thinks to herself as she mulls over the hours spent carefully placing each tiny stitch. Her glance falls next on the lute nestled in its leather case. I’ll miss playing but a lute has no place in my life anymore. Her eyes fall next on the shelves filled with books. Reading and learning is another thing but there’s no room in my pack.
Focusing on her pack she carefully reviews each item. A blanket, ordinary clothes that would not indicate rank like the dark dresses with slashes falling to the middle of her chest hung carefully in the wardrobe. A pair of daggers, a lantern and tin of oil, some boy’s clothes (given to her by the cook’s son as a favor when she swore him to secrecy), some travel rations a water flask, her ruby kesiera, a few additional pieces of jewelry.. “I guess I’m ready” she says to herself as she tightens the straps on the pack before slipping out the door and padding silently to the servants stairway. At the bottom she listens for a moment then continues into the scullery and quietly opens the door to the kitchen garden. As she silently exits she glances up at the manor that has been her home, a tear slides down her face as she thinks of the carefully chosen words left in the note on her former bed, then composing herself she closes the door and carefully walks towards the quiet predawn streets.
The next few months were difficult as Zharah learned that most small towns didn’t welcome her, and trying to make her way in the wilderness was difficult to say the least. Ultimately she mastered skinning and curing pelts from small game and this became an income. Settling deep within the Braem woods Zharah spent her days hunting, skinning and curing hides as her skill increased she earned more coin. Eventually she chose to leave her coin with the money changer in Tar Valon. This was the one city she felt relatively safe in even though the street toughs still harrased her, and she missed being around people. Her first friend in Tar Valon was Digit the furrier, each week she’d come in with her skins and pelts and find out what he was looking for. As their friendship blossomed he learned of her troubles with the street urchins and suggested she learn the sword at the Warder School so she could defend herself instead of looking for the first opportunity to flee.
One day after being harassed yet again she screwed up her courage and visited the Warder School. After asking in the yard she found herself in Weapons-Master Shiandra’s office being evaluated as a potential student. There were a few moments of confusion when he realized she was a girl and not the young boy he initially thought her to be. When the evaluation was complete he said she had potential and told her to come back when she earned the tuition or found an Aes Sedai to sponsor her.
Being in awe of the Aes Sedai she dared not approach any, so she returned to the woods and hunted, skinned and tanned until she had the necessary funds. Luckily Weapons Master Shiandra was on duty when she came back with the funds to enroll and that he remembered her or she might have been turned away. After she paid her tuition she was assigned a room, told where to get meals and introduced to Master Armelle who was to be in charge of her initial training.
Zharah of Braem
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