I arrived in Crossing at the age of three, together with my parents and my year-old baby sister. Unfortunately, almost immediately after we arrived, my parents died in one of the plagues that periodically decimated the population at that time. My sister and I were taken in by strangers who took pity on us as orphans, first an Elven family, and then later, a human family with a baby daughter that we helped to look after. While we were always fortunate enough to be treated with kindness and generosity, I always knew that I was living on charity, and at the age of seventeen I left home, working at any jobs that I could find to support myself and pay my way through Asemuth Academy.

Seven years later, I graduated, and took up my life's work as an Empath shortly thereafter, believing that my parent's deaths could have been prevented by a skilled empath. In my early career I was fortunate enough to be mentored by many skilled empaths, although the state of the empathic art and the spells available were, by today's standards, extremely limited. Concentrating on learning enough to become effective in saving lives, I almost never left the Infirmary except to eat and sleep for almost two years, and in those quieter, more peaceful days, before the population of both Crossing and the Realms as a whole exploded, I became fast friends with many of the other Empaths that chose to work there.

It was in the Infirmary, too, that I met the person who would have the greatest effect and influence on the rest of my life. I was just learning to disarm the boxes that I was sometimes given for healing, and one day, an acid trap blew up on me, covering my abdomen in deadly acid. To the extent I could I was healing myself, but in those days we had not yet discovered the Vitality Healing spell, and I was fast losing the battle for life. Suddenly, a young empath whom I had never met before jumped in and began healing the acid burn, and to my total horror, died himself from its effects. He was almost immediately dragged off by others, presumably to seek a cleric, and I sat numbly in the Infirmary, realizing slowly that I was still alive, that he was dead, and that I had not even said a simple "Thank you", so quickly did it all happen. I felt horrible.

Perhaps a week later, I was sitting under the tree in Arthe Dale when he walked in with a group of his friends. I was frightened to even say anything to him, because I was convinced he must think I was an incredibly selfish and unfriendly person, but I finally nerved myself to thank him for his selfless act, and to apologize for saying nothing at the time. He accepted my apology with a smile, and introduced himself, and after that I saw him quite frequently there, climbing, swimming, healing, and talking. His name, of course, was Tilrythran.

Tilrythran can and does tell the story far better than I do of how our relationship grew and how we eventually became secure enough in our love and friendship that we decided to marry. Although he likes to insist that I turned him down the first time he asked me to marry him, the truth is that we both took the time we needed to be sure that our relationship was strongly grounded and that a marriage between us would work. I can honestly say that marrying him was the best thing I have ever done and I only hope that he has been as happy as I have been.

We now live in a cottage on the southern beach of Aesry Surlaenis, with our three young children (each one with the instincts of a lemming!) who keep us busy keeping them safe and happy. It is my dream and my belief that the words of the old tales will prove to be true for us -- "... and they lived happily ever after."