"I own nothing of greater value to give you."
It took a few minutes to comprehend the questions and requests. It wasn't the mindset she had; at least.
"I am. Ah, is a good question; I know who I want to be. My first solid memories are learning. I was trained to learn and survive; that was my role. I am no tool," she stressed that point, "but I was made into one. For many Turns I accepted that lie."
Digging into her robe, she pulled out a very old map. The corners had long since rubbed soft and many of the crease folds had been done so many times the parchment broke apart. Carefully, she unfolded and pieced it together. It was an old crude map of the Shroud covered in marks, erase marks, and new marks layered; most of the activity in the northeastern corner.
"I believe I spent most of my life up here. There were many caverns and keep hollowing trees to live in. Could see the snow of the northern reaches in the thinning winters, but was almost rare to see the sun through the thick canopy of the Twelveswood. It was two others and myself. Here I kept them safe and they taught me how to keep myself safe. Life for life. They would leave time-to-time and eventually needed me to be in town and I began to realize how vast the world was. Began to question what kind of tool I was; asking freely brought a great punishment." While she was easily answering, it wouldn't be hard to see the pain in her eyes as the words held more vivid pictures for her. She took a breath to calm down and continue.
"So I began to write down things. Anywhere. Everywhere. In books on pages. On trees into the bark, on stones high up. I would find them again and cling to those memories, even those few words held many more within their script. Thaliak saved me; gave me a small opportunity to know I was not alone, I was no tool. I could do more than simply survive. I can thrive and feel and experience life and support others to experience their own. I am far more than any tool. I have one book that every word meant far more to me than the simple story within. So I took her name as my own, that I could be Jancis and fly to unknown lands and make life better and escape the cage of constructed life."
"They saw that, she far earlier than he. The moon falling changed things; I would not dare say for my favor, but it sped along my liberation. Would I have ever felt truly the lack of care to protect them from the woodwrath mayhaps sooner... boldy say I am glad that never came. For my part, at least."
Jancis murmured quietly after a minute, “No guilt is forgotten so long as the conscience still knows of it.†Her attention focused back on him. To gain trust was to give it first, and she had amples amounts to give, but she understood a bit more on this self-imposed exile. Every memory one of pain, a confusion of guilt and responsibility with no reward or goal beyond it. Still he fought on, still he answered her.
"Is hard because guilt is so loud to those of good heart. I am sure the other memories lie within, Master Franz, if not for these other weights that drown out their words. Are like those birds that roam the Shroud, when attacked their neck plumage fluffs." She demonstrated with her hands, fanning them out with grand display. "Shall always appear bigger than they truly are?"
It took a few minutes to comprehend the questions and requests. It wasn't the mindset she had; at least.
"I am. Ah, is a good question; I know who I want to be. My first solid memories are learning. I was trained to learn and survive; that was my role. I am no tool," she stressed that point, "but I was made into one. For many Turns I accepted that lie."
Digging into her robe, she pulled out a very old map. The corners had long since rubbed soft and many of the crease folds had been done so many times the parchment broke apart. Carefully, she unfolded and pieced it together. It was an old crude map of the Shroud covered in marks, erase marks, and new marks layered; most of the activity in the northeastern corner.
"I believe I spent most of my life up here. There were many caverns and keep hollowing trees to live in. Could see the snow of the northern reaches in the thinning winters, but was almost rare to see the sun through the thick canopy of the Twelveswood. It was two others and myself. Here I kept them safe and they taught me how to keep myself safe. Life for life. They would leave time-to-time and eventually needed me to be in town and I began to realize how vast the world was. Began to question what kind of tool I was; asking freely brought a great punishment." While she was easily answering, it wouldn't be hard to see the pain in her eyes as the words held more vivid pictures for her. She took a breath to calm down and continue.
"So I began to write down things. Anywhere. Everywhere. In books on pages. On trees into the bark, on stones high up. I would find them again and cling to those memories, even those few words held many more within their script. Thaliak saved me; gave me a small opportunity to know I was not alone, I was no tool. I could do more than simply survive. I can thrive and feel and experience life and support others to experience their own. I am far more than any tool. I have one book that every word meant far more to me than the simple story within. So I took her name as my own, that I could be Jancis and fly to unknown lands and make life better and escape the cage of constructed life."
"They saw that, she far earlier than he. The moon falling changed things; I would not dare say for my favor, but it sped along my liberation. Would I have ever felt truly the lack of care to protect them from the woodwrath mayhaps sooner... boldy say I am glad that never came. For my part, at least."
Jancis murmured quietly after a minute, “No guilt is forgotten so long as the conscience still knows of it.†Her attention focused back on him. To gain trust was to give it first, and she had amples amounts to give, but she understood a bit more on this self-imposed exile. Every memory one of pain, a confusion of guilt and responsibility with no reward or goal beyond it. Still he fought on, still he answered her.
"Is hard because guilt is so loud to those of good heart. I am sure the other memories lie within, Master Franz, if not for these other weights that drown out their words. Are like those birds that roam the Shroud, when attacked their neck plumage fluffs." She demonstrated with her hands, fanning them out with grand display. "Shall always appear bigger than they truly are?"
![[Image: hpThOka.png]](http://i.imgur.com/hpThOka.png)
