I remember well the day my spirit was bruised but not broken. Accosted by a young noble from a neighbouring estate who thought a young girl's maidenhood a fine gift to his towering ego, I fought him with all I could. My wits, my hands, and a broken chair leg discarded in the street. Truly a gift from the gods, I put it to good use, and a lucky blow saw him sprawled in the street, his blood trickling away in the gutter. By no means did I escape unscathed. Shocked and beaten, my finery torn, I made my way home slowly and painfully. The tale he told upon awakening and visiting a nearby alehouse preceded me. The door was bolted to me, and a worn leather purse lay alone on the step. Fifty-three silver dokoras. I knew then how highly my parents valued their daughter.

The journey to the Crossing was long and arduous, and the money was soon spent. I may well have foundered if it were not for the kindness of an Empath. Her face and body mangled and scarred, I recoiled at first from her, but the wonder as her wounds healed before my eyes touched something deep inside. Too much of my life I had looked only at the surface of people, and worshipped only wealth and family honour. A quiet vow spoken only to myself saw a quieter and more contemplative Elothean maiden knock meekly on Tallis's door and be welcomed.

I am by no means perfect now, and I know I never will be.

Eluned, fair lady, grant me wisdom.