The late afternoon sunlight slanted down across her hands. Rhythmically kicking the spinning wheel foot, she spun the wool into gossamer strands. This batch was destined to be a cloak. She would lovingly string her loom and weave the soft wool into the cloth that she was so famous for. Outside she could hear the animals singing their late day before night songs. She knew each voice as well as her own by now and listened with a bemused smile on her face while her hands worked of their own accord.

Averra watched the sun make its slow, lazy way down to the sea. Sighing, she arose from the wheel and went out to do her evening chores of feeding and watering the animals. Calling each by name as she entered the zoo, they rushed to greet her. Laughing, she watched them play and leap for joy at the sight of her. Swiftly she fed and watered. Pausing just inside the door to the zoo she called to them, “Sorry dear ones, I am late for my chess match. I promise more time with you tomorrow.” With that she rushed of f to the house to bath and meet her friends.

As she hurried down the avenue, a young Noble appeared from around the corner. Catching sight of her, he curled his lip in distaste, he stepped widely aside. Averra laughed at him. “Dear Nate, do get over it”. He looked at her with disgust. “I cannot believe you would do this, Averra. Living like this. Gods, blood will tell.” She stopped and turned back. “My mother had more nobility in her than your family could dream of. It does not take gold to be noble, nor a fancy title. I mean, look at yourself. What have you done that is so “noble”? Humm?” “Your birth was not a noble act cousin.” “Gods,” he exploded. You still don’t get it you.. you.. peasant.” He strode off, every movement lined with disgust. Sighing Averra continued to the Tavern, pondering her cousin’s lack of understanding.

Averras birth was every bit as noble as his own, with one exception. Her mother Marjorie, was not a noble woman. She came from peasant stock. Though beautiful, graceful and intelligent, she was shunned by her husbands’ family and friends. Jerrin had married her within a month of meeting her on a buying trip to Yew. He had walked into the shop and saw her sitting at her loom. His heart was hers from that moment on. She tried to dissuade him from marrying her, knowing she was not his equal in birth. But Jerrin truly believed that when his family had met her and had gotten to know her, they would love her shining beauty as he did. It was his greatest sorrow that it never came to pass.

Though he loved her with all his being, his family was outraged. His parents tolerated her presence but offered no kindness. His brothers, their wives and children were much worse. One morning as he came down the stairs with his father (both late to breakfast), he heard what his wife would never speak to him of. His brothers’ nasal voice came from the breakfast room.

“Hey, peasant bitch, get me my food.” He sniggered. The rest laughed and the comments became more and more rude. He paused and looked up at Krath his father, tears sparkling in his eyes. Though his father didn’t approve of what Jerrin had done in marrying her, he would not tolerate such behavior in his house. He stormed into the breakfast room and fetched his son a slap on the head so hard that he was thrown out of his chair. He yelled into the stunned silence that followed, “Never, never again let me hear such a thing happen. She is your brothers’ wife and will be treated with the respect that position bestows. Do I make myself understood?” He thundered. Silence fell even deeper in the room. Jerrin went to Marjorie’s side and gently led her from the room.

After that, things seem to get better for Marjorie at least he thought so. Jerrin was certain the birth of his first child would change his father’s feelings. Averra was born on a rare night of double full moons. Jerrin took this as a sign of her greatness. He took his newborn daughter from the Midwifes hands and strode to the open windows. Stepping out onto the balcony into the brilliant moonlight he stripped away the swaddling clothes and held her out into the moonlight so that she might be blessed with their power. With tears of joy running down his face, he named her before the Twin Moons of Sosaria. “Thou shall be as the moonlight, sparkling and silver. Thou shall be as their power, Light and dark, strong and silent. Thou shall be as their travels around this world, ever guiding. I name thee Averra.”

Averra was a graceful, happy child with long, dark red hair. Her days were spent in the nursery with Lenora her beloved nurse learning her letters. With a shaky hand painstakingly copied them into her writing book. She loved learning and by the time she was 5 was already reading the classics aloud to Lenora in her light clear soprano voice. Lenora knowing the way of small children kept her hands and mind busy with all manner of things. Averra loved her sewing classes, learning to embroider and stitch fine seams. Privately she hated hemming sheets but Lenora insisted she learn until her stitches were tiny and perfect. As soon as she was able, her mother would come for her and take her to the Salon. There she would sit at her mothers’ feet carding wool for her mother to spin into yarn while her mother told her the most amazing stories of sparkling Knights and strange creatures. As she grew older her mother would come for her in the nursery. Packing her books into her saddlebags, her mother said to her with a laugh “One always learns better out of doors.” But the books more often than not stayed in the pack as mother and daughter walked the forests. She learned to walk so soft footed that the animals would not notice her and when they did, they would come willingly to her hands to be petted. Her mother also showed her the way of the plants. Teaching her daughter the herbs and how to prepare them, not only for eating, but also for healing and killing as well. She questioned her mother about the death herbs and why she must learn them. Marjorie replied “If you will heal you must know all of them, for even the death herbs have a place. They can be used to end the terrible suffering of an illness that has no cure or injury that has no healing. The herb room became one of her favorite places. Dark and quiet, redolent with wonderful smells, she was a peace there. Humming quietly as she prepared her healing potions and medicines, she learned the joy of peace and the satisfaction of working with her hands.

It was not until Averra left the nursery at 8 years of age did she have any idea of the hatred towards her mother and she discovered, for herself as well. Although she had had holidays and dinners with the rest of the family, she had been to young to really notice anything. She just thought her family was quiet as a general rule. Then one afternoon she learned the truth. She had been out in her mother’s garden carefully pulling the weeds from around the rare herbs Marjorie grew. A rock slammed into her back knocking her into the plants. She struggled back on her knees to the sound of mocking laughter. Turning quickly, she saw no one. Tears of pain gathered in her eyes and when she turned to the plants she had so ungraciously sprawled in, she saw she had crushed many of the tender young shoots. Tears slipped in earnest down her face at the sight of the destruction of the herbs. She staked them up as best she could and breathed a prayer for recover and apology over them and rose to her feet. She looked down at herself, covered in mud and turned for the house to change. As she slipped into her room, she was horrified to find her nurse there. “What ever happened child?” Lenora asked. “oh, um, I fell.” She replied quietly. Her nurse nodded and told her simply to be more careful and went back to her sewing. Slipping out of her filthy clothes, she headed to the main parlor where her mother sat with her husbands’ brothers and their wives. Knowing only outrage, she appeared in the doorway and announced in a clear voice that she had been hit from behind and knocked to the ground.

“By who?” asked one of her uncles. “I did not see sir, for I was hit from behind. It caused me to fall and damage some of the rarer herbs.” Titters of laughter greeted her remarks. Shocked at their response she looked to her mother only to find her face cast down, refusing to rise from the needlework in her hands. “You should not come with lies for your own clumsiness child. If you were mine, I would beat you for your false words. You must learn to accept your faults and stop blaming others for you mistakes. How like your mother you are, seems bad blood runs true.” Her uncle sneered his reply, disgust pouring out with his words. The blood leapt to her face at this attack on her honor and confusion clouded her mind. “Mother, are thee not going to say anything?” she questioned humiliated and hurt. Marjorie did not reply, she only clutched her sewing tighter. Her uncle leaned across the sofa toward Marjorie, tapped her on the knee and said, “Ah you have truly begotten another peasant bitch like yourself. Grubbing in the dirt all day. Rushing to her mother, she drew herself up with righteous anger. “How dare you sir, speak to my honored mother in such a way!” she demanded, her hands fisted in rage. Her uncles’ response was to slap her so hard it knocked her to the floor. Towering over her as she lay there he spit out his words. “Never, never question my station brat. You are the get of a cur bitch and you best not forget who your betters are.” He turned on his heel and strode from the room. At his leaving, the rest of the room broke into laughter. Quietly her mother gathered her from the floor and led her from the room the echoes of derisive laughter and rude comments following them up the great stair.

She raised her tear stained face from her mother’s skirts and asked why. Marjorie gently began telling her of her other family. The grandparents and aunts and uncles she had never met much less heard of. “We are not blooded as your fathers family is.” She told Averra. Your father’s family has regretted his decision to wed me since I was of common stock. Averra sat there listening, hearing for the first time the tale of love between her father and mother. “But why mother, if father loves you so dearly does his family do this?” She, in her young mind could not fathom being without care for another. Station meant very little to her as did title and the trappings of wealth. For at her young age she knew no other way. Marjorie tried to explain to her, but all Averra heard was the hurt and heartbreak her mother had inside. After that, things got worse for her. Her lovingly tended gardens were destroyed. Her potions broken or tainted. She said nothing to her father for she desperately wanted him happy and did not want to go through another scene with her uncles. So she held her voice and went about repairing the damage as best she could. As the years sped past, things began to get worse. From destructive pranks it went to harming her.

Two days before midwinter day in her 10th year of life, she was returning from running an errand to the herbalist for her mother. She had taken her favorite shortcut. It led to the cliffs edge along the sea. From this vantage she could sit and watch the great ships sailing in and out of dock. The dolphins playing in the bowwake. It was a wonderful place to take ones rest she thought. The whispering slide of the sand in the breeze accompanied by the ocean swells breaking on the cliffs below her made a wonderful symphony to her ears. As she sat dreaming in the lovely, warm sunshine she did not hear the quiet footsteps behind her. “ah, what is it we have here?” her cousins voice came from her back. She stood quickly. “Leave me alone cousin. I have done you no harm. Your parents hatred need not be ours” She pleaded. Slowly fear grew in her, for her cousin was not alone. He stood accompanied by several of his friends. She turned and began to run but was tackled from behind. She fought them, biting and scratching as they grabbed her arms and legs. She managed to struggle free from their grasp on her, but it only resulted in her face being buried in the loose sand. Now both blind and choking on the sand, she could only strike out blindly at her attackers. Suddenly she felt nothing but air and then the shock of the cold water as she fell to the pounding waves below. As her head slid under the water, she heard the evil laughter from above her.

She swam as hard as she could, trying to escape the waves as they swept her towards the razor sharp rocks at the base of the cliff. Desperately she struggled, but the power of the water was too great for her. The first wave slammed her hard into the rocks. She managed to turn herself so that she would hit hands first, hoping against hope she could push herself back off. Again and again it threw her into the unyielding rocks. As her breath was battered from her body, she felt her self lifted. Bracing for yet another slamming against the rocks, she was shocked when she kept rising into the air. Dazed and beaten she looked around as she was hauled and dumped unceremoniously on the deck of a Serpent Headed ship. “Thar, now lassie. Whot ye be doin a swimmin here?” a voice harsh with years of yelling above the waves asked. She lay limp and exhasted on the deck unable to catch her breath to reply. Gentle, work callused hands helped her to sit up. “I fell as I walked along the cliffs.” Averra gasped out. “tsk, ‘lil un, you best need to be more careful. I baint gonna always be here to hoist ye out.” He chuckled. “J’red, get ye here and do yor healin’ stuff on the wee lass. She be a needin it.” J’red was a small withered man. She stared up at him in astonishment for she had never seen anyone so wrinkled. Eyes sparkling, he laughed at her expression. Gently he washed the cuts and scrapes. She braced herself for the stinging pain that was sure to come. “nae, child be at peace, old J’red knows the secrets.” He assured her with a laugh. The potion he used to clean her wounds with not only didn’t hurt but caused a great deal of the pain to go away. Forgetting she had almost died, she asked him eagerly what was in it. He laughed and told her it was made of herbs from a far away land. She was so engrossed in talking to him about his herbs and the land they came from, she didn’t even notice the ship had sailed on to the docks until the ship came to a shuddering halt. She begged a few of the strange herbs from J’red and a bit of the potion as well.

He lovingly wrapped them in an old piece of oilcloth for her and as he handed her down the gangplank said to her “Remember me child.” She turned in surprise, for suddenly the gruff accent was gone, replaced by the cultured tones of the aristocracy. “I too, was once like you.” He said gravely. It was then she realized he seemed to understand without being told exactly what the truth of her life was. “Should you have need, ask at the docks for me. You will find me child.” With that he turned and walked into the crowd. Bemused, she walked home. She went to the servant’s entrance so that she could sneak in the house without anyone seeing her tattered state. She slipped quietly along the darkened, narrow corridor to her room. “Thank all the gods” she thought to herself. “No one has seen me.” She opened her door just a bit to avoid the squeak it gave and slipped inside. Once safe, she slid to the floor and began to cry deep soul wrenching sobs.

She dressed carefully for dinner that night, wearing long sleeves and a long skirt to cover her wounds. Though her body ached to the very core of her being, she walked through the house as if there was nothing wrong. She in her pride refused to give her cousin the satisfaction of knowing he had come very close to succeeding in his plans. Her cousins shocked face gave her more satisfaction than she dare admit as she strode into the dinning room. Smiling and acting for all the world that the entire day had not happened, she played her role well. As dessert was served, her father leaned across the table to her. “After dinner dear, let us walk in the garden. I feel the need of a beautiful woman to escort me.” He laughed to her. She smiled at him, so much love in her heart for this generous man. “Aye, M’Lord,” she replied in her best courtly manner, I would be most honored to be escorted by a cavalier of your fame.” They laughed together at their silliness and rose from the table. As they walked in the warm evening, the perfume of the flowers arose around them. He covered her hand with his own and guided her to a bench set in a secluded arbor. Gently her father knelt in front of her and raised her long skirt. Looking at the wounds that covered her knees and shins his face hardened. Bowing his head, tears slipped down his face. “Father” she began. “Hush sweet child. I know all of it.” He said tears thick in his voice. “I have failed you sweet one. I have not protected you and now you are hurt. Gods! That this should come to be. “Your mother and I have come to a decision. We have kept you from your family and now, with this having happened, we have decided you should go to meet them. Your grandparents are warm and loving and await you with open hearts. Would you like this child?" Eagerly Averra seized on this. “Oh please papa, I should love to meet them!” And so ended Averra’s tenth year of life.

Averra stepped out of the moongate that her Grandfather Krath had conjured up for her to use. Facing her was an array of strangers. She struggled not to turn and bury her face in her mothers’ skirts. “Come sweet, she placed an arm around Averras’ shoulders. Meet your Grandparents.” She shyly curtsied to them and then to her horror, she heard someone laugh. “Whatever have I done wrong?” she thought wildly. Looking up with tears of embarrassment in her eyes, she saw her Grandmother turn to a young man beside her and grab he firmly by the ear. “Here, here. None of that now. She has grace, something ye lack!” She gave his ear a firm tug while the young man howled in pain. The rest of the group dissolved into friendly laughter while the young man rubbed his offended ear. Coming forward he stuck out his hand to her. “I be Jaren and you be Averra.” He leaned forward and whispered, “And she has a quick hand too.” His expression invited her to share his laughter and his conspiratorial whisper made her feel like she had just gained a close friend. How different he was from her other cousins’. Hope grew in her as she looked from face to face and saw nothing but open, simple happiness that she had come to see them.

Everyone grabbed a piece of their luggage and surrounding her and her mother, led them off down the road. Averra could not help but stare. Never had she seen a whole town with dirt roads and the people! Not a noble to be seen. As she walked she saw hunters coming back from the woods with their hides and meat to sell, men shearing sheep in the pastures and farmers tending their fields of crops. As she drank it in, all the smells and sights and sounds seem to fill an empty hollow place inside her that she never knew existed. Arriving at a sturdily made log home, the whole family went inside. Averra looked in surprise. For here there were no servants, no fine furniture or expensive rugs. Instead the furnishings were simple but comfortable. Beautiful hand woven rugs covered the bare wood floors. A long simple trestle table ran the length of the main room that also served as the kitchen and living room. A loom and spinning wheel took up and entire corner and at the other end a great hearth and oven filled the wall. Jaren motioned her towards a door at the end of the room. “Thas yours and yer Ma’s room. I’ll just be puttin the bags in there.” Averra trailed after him. The room was simply furnished with a bed covered with a warm hand made quilt. A simple chest stood at the foot of the bed and a rough amiore stood against the wall. A single chair with a small table next to it sat under the window. A single candle and a bowl of wild flowers someone had lovingly arranged sat on the table and their fragrance filled the room. “Change outta them holiday clothes and I’ll show ye around.” I be a waitin out at the table for ye girl.”

Holiday clothes? Averra was puzzled. These were her traveling clothes, the most rugged she had. Her mother came in smiling. “Lets get our things put away sweet, and go explore.” “Mother, Jaren said to take off my holiday clothes, what is he talking about?” Her mother grinned, “Ah child, things are very different here.” With that she produced from her bag a simple skirt and blouse. Sturdy boots followed. “Put these on, they will work much better than what you are wearing.” Averra eyed the clothing. Not a single bit of embroidery, ribbon or gold trim was to be found. She quickly slipped into the new clothing, surprised at how soft they were. The boots followed quickly. Wiggling her toes, she turned to her mother with surprise. “Oh!, they are lined in soft fur.” Her Mother hugged her and said, “Go explore with Jaren. I’ll follow in a bit.”

Thus started Averras’ first summer with her new found family. As she grew older, she spent more and more time with her family in Yew. She learned to shear sheep with her older cousins. Her Grandmother taught her how to prepare the wool and spin it into fine yarn for the loom. Surprisingly, it was her cousin Jaren who taught her how to weave. He was the loom artist in the family and discovered she too had the gift and love necessary to create the fabrics that were so coveted by the nobles who came to buy the family’s creations. Her Grandfather taught her to fish and hunt. He instilled in her his love for the land he lived in. Averra hated hunting, but her Grandfather taught her that if the animals over populate, many of them would starve. So he showed her how to cull the herd of the weak and old. He would thank the animal for giving its life that others may live. Every part of the animal was used. The hides went to one cousin who made a stiff studded armor from it. The meat went to her grandmother to be cooked or salted and put away against the winter months. The bones to another cousin who carved beautiful handle for swords and knives from them. Grandfather taught her to use her otherworldly skills in a different way. He taught her how to tame the most vicious of beasts and how to heal them as well. Her cousin Jaren taught her to play chess. They passed many a night laughing over the chessboard.

In her 16th year, what little mage powers she had started showing themselves. Her Grandfather Krath taught her how to control these powers. Taking her to his private workroom, he began teaching her the words to simple spells. As she grew into her power, he realized she would never have the abilities he had as a GrandMaster Mage. So he contented himself with teaching her what he could and hoping it would be enough to protect her. For Averra, it was a time of discovery. She found that this man that had always been so distant and gruff with her was actually a kind man. When he was not aware of her peeking, she could see he cared very deeply for her. But let him catch her watching and he would revert to the gruff man she had always known.

In Averras’ seventeenth year, she decided to go to her family in Yew to live. She knew in her heart that she was most happy with her Grans and Da in their simple home. Her mother knew the truth of this. The attacks against her daughter had grown more subtle and Averras’ cousins more vicious in their verbal attacks. Averra did not miss being invited to the Balls and Routs that made up the entertainment for the wealthy young. But her mother ached for her isolation.

A gentle knock came to the door. “ Lenora, can you help me with this?” Averra knelt among tissue paper and chests. “Well I could, but I am most sure I don’t fold as neatly as she does.” Came her Grandfathers laughing voice from the doorway. She stood quickly, scattering tissue paper everywhere. Dropping a quick curtsey, she said. “Sir, forgive me. I didn’t know it was you.” Sighing at her formality, he walked to a chair and sat down heavily. “Child, I have never shown you the love you deserve. Now that you are leaving us, I have to tell you a few things. He told her of his time spent at Court as the Lords Wizard. He told of travels and most of all he gifted her with his memories of her father. He told her of his grave disappointment with his son’s marriage to her mother. “Child, I took out on you my anger with your father. For this I am eternally shamed. You did not get from my heart what you so willingly gave me from yours. I stand humbled before you child. For your purity of spirit and simple, open love of me has shown me my errors in judgment.” He bowed his head, weighted by the knowledge of the many years lost to him now. “My time has all but gone now Averra and I do not think you shall return to us for many years.” Rising to his feet, he walked to the door and stepped into the hallway. Bending down he picked something up just out of her sight. Turning back he held a large gaily wrapped box, his hands shaking. “Here child, this is from my heart.” He said in a voice thick with tears. “Do not open it until you are with your Grandparents in Yew. Tis all I ask of you.” Averra had sat all but open mouthed during this. Rising to her feet, tears sparkling in her green eyes, she put her hands on his shoulders and gently kissed his cheek. “I have always loved you Grandfather and nothing of the past will change that for me. You need not give me gifts, for the gift of your love is all I have ever wanted.” They stood together, leaning on each other as they wept out the pain of all the years. Krath put her from him gently, “Child, I must go now. I wish you only the best in your journey. I shall always be here for you child, if not in body, then in spirit.” He turned and silent footed, walked away. Averra packed her Grandfathers gift away and musing on the past packed the rest of the few things she would take with her.

Averra once again stepped through a blue moongate that opened onto the grassy verge in front of Empath Abbey. Jeran yelled and waved in greeting, his face lit up at the sight of her. He hugged her to him hard. “Ooof, she laughed. You have surely bruised every rib I have!” Grabbing her hand he said, “ Look! Look! You are gonna love this missy.” He led her to where two beautiful white horses stood. “Tis your comin home gift from all of us.” Hanging her packages on the hooks placed on the saddle, he motioned for her to mount. “Climb up there missy, Gran has a huge feast awaitin us. I’ll race ya home.” Hollering and waving his hat over his head, he kicked his mount into a gallop. Shouting over his shoulder. “Last one in’s gotta do the dishes.”

Soft candlelight lit her room. She sat her grandfather’s package on the bed and slowly pulled the paper off. Just inside was a note written in her Grandfathers precise hand. Child, the note began. “Here is armor made with my own hands. With the last of my power I have imbued it with every magical protection I can think of. It is not that I do not doubt your skills Averra, but rather my fear for your safety. Your mother has also made you something very special. I have enchanted it with stars from the skies that you may always have light to find your way. Lastly, I give you my greatest treaure, sweet Averra. My love child. Walk always in the light and know that I am with thee no matter where you may travel in this life.” “Forever is never long enough, Love Krath. Setting the note aside, she parted the tissue paper. Catching a glimpse of blue, she pulled at the tissue paper to reveal a tunic of some kind. Pulling it from the box she unfolded a beautiful blue studded leather tunic. Beneath it were studded pants, arms, legs, gloves, gorget and boots all done in the same beautiful blue. Setting the leather armor aside, she looked in the box again. A cloak, a beautiful soft cloak, waited in the box. Pulling it out she recognized it as her mother’s work. It sparkled in the evening light. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she was shocked that the room suddenly brightened as if the sun had come back up. From within the box came a glow, leaning over she pulled out a bundle wrapped in black cloth. It glowed in her hands with an unearthly light. Gently unrolling it, she found her grandfather’s staff. Shocked, she sat on the bed. Gently she laid her face against it, smelling her Grandfathers cologne. Weeping softly she knew she would never see him again. “Averra,” her Grandmothers voice came from the hearth. “Dinner is on table and get’in colder by the moment.” Averra laid aside the cloak and staff, stepped to the door and quietly opened it. From down the hall came the sound of her family. Laughter and joy enfolded her. She squared her shoulders and hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. Walking into the light of the hall, she went forward to face her new life.