You think you've heard all the stories before, and that every tale told is the same, with new names and vague ideas of originality. I tell you now, the stories my sisters and I call memories have never been told by a living person. The closest your society will ever get is reading what our bones can tell, bones which are mostly dust and forgotten. Until now. Our stories, our lives are being heard. So welcome to you, Dusty Traveller of thee Ages. May you hear about our lives without judgment and leave our well with no thirst and much knowledge. Hopefully you will have the knowledge enough to keep both your eyes.

I was born into this world in a small village, near one of the larger cities of the country where we made our home. From the start, i had a divine sense of the world, and could see clearly into the future, past and present. The moon had marked me as her own bright child.

THis means very little to you and your children now, unfortunately. THe lore of our lives was lost when men ruled the world for their own, abusing the sacredness of women, turning them into monsters beneath a beautiful exterior.

But by the first blood of a girl, she had found her talents, her teachers, her trade.By my first blood, spilt on a full moon, i was already wearing the dark blue robes of an apprentice, at the temple of the moon. I was initiated into the secrets my elder sisters held, to the honor of keeping them and helping my society.

Secrets of the future, past, present. Of healing and childbirth, old tales that we alone remembered. Yes there was medicine in our society and tales of healing, but my people were just coming into those strengths when everything evaporated.

But there i was, a Priestess' apprentice. My mistress was Erlara, with unruly white curls, and eyes greener than an emerald. She was nearing 115 when she saw me amongst the ranks of grey cloaked hopefuls. She knew i was hers, the one who would carry the last of her knowlegde and memory.  She gave me my apprentices robes and braided my mahogany hair with sapphires.

I was one of the lucky ones, truthfully. Or so Erlara said. Women who showed the talents often clamoured into the temple hall on the Moon Festival, would wait for hours in grey robes. Waiting for a mistress to teach them. Few were intiated into the blue apprentices robes, but many of the women rejected found themselves happier in the garden or sewing up a wound in the hospital. Such was the lighter destiny for those who could not bear the weight of the moons darker paths.

 I spent the rest of my childhood and adolescent years, learning to read what the sacred pools could say, to hear the whisper of the little folk and nature spirits. I even conversed with a dwarf, who left a small gift of gold on my pillow the next morning. Erlara said it was a blessing, for a gift from a dwarf was no light thing.On the next harvest moon she took me to the sacred pools and held up the gold, which glowed with the brightness of the moon. Much to my delight, it brought my friend, quietly from the shadows, to touch my breast where the heart beat within.When Erlara made a small gasp, he scuttled off, for he had paid no attention to my mistress.

My heart glowed at the love he gave me, for he had pledged his life to me. something done only with a monarch or a lover. I had been blessed by the dwarfkind, which gave me a stronger link to the earth. Even now his handprint covers my heart, glowing like faery dust.

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To be continued at a later date.