If one asked her what her strengths were, it would be highly unlikely that "memory" would be among her answers. "Why," she might say, "There's times when I can't remember my birthday or which way is north or what I had for breakfast today." Yet at times, usually when she least expected it, odd fragments would return to her out of the depths of forgetfulness. Â Typically they were insignificant: an odd joke told by her youngest brother, the limp in her father's leg, or the earthy smell of blankets that had already been ancient when Jajara herself was but a newborn.
Their meeting had seemed insignificant of the time, of course. She was but a fresh and hopeful face looking to find employment and she had come at Mister Shipkeeper's behest to prove her skills. The ship she found herself sitting upon unnerved her to no end, constantly creaking and rolling even in the calm sway of the sea. It was not Ul'dah - far from it, geographically and physically - and when the rain had started to fall she had only begun to feel less and less eager to stay.
Yet a presence had stepped up behind her, so quiet that she almost did not notice. It was the man in black robes and an absurdly wide brimmed hat, to whom the others had given strange and wary glances. She had thought nothing of it, knowing not their significance if there was any to be found in the first place for they were all strangers to her then. Raindrops ceased pelting her skin and when she had looked up, curious as to whether or not it had been intentional, she had only been met with a faint but gentle smile.
Jajara saw less and less of Ul'dah lately. The company's ship was not home but she took some comfort in the way it groaned and shifted beneath her feet. And when the rains rolled through on heavy grey clouds, her mind would inevitably drift away to recall that first and foreboding smile.
Their meeting had seemed insignificant of the time, of course. She was but a fresh and hopeful face looking to find employment and she had come at Mister Shipkeeper's behest to prove her skills. The ship she found herself sitting upon unnerved her to no end, constantly creaking and rolling even in the calm sway of the sea. It was not Ul'dah - far from it, geographically and physically - and when the rain had started to fall she had only begun to feel less and less eager to stay.
Yet a presence had stepped up behind her, so quiet that she almost did not notice. It was the man in black robes and an absurdly wide brimmed hat, to whom the others had given strange and wary glances. She had thought nothing of it, knowing not their significance if there was any to be found in the first place for they were all strangers to her then. Raindrops ceased pelting her skin and when she had looked up, curious as to whether or not it had been intentional, she had only been met with a faint but gentle smile.
Jajara saw less and less of Ul'dah lately. The company's ship was not home but she took some comfort in the way it groaned and shifted beneath her feet. And when the rains rolled through on heavy grey clouds, her mind would inevitably drift away to recall that first and foreboding smile.
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