To the begining

Sheltered
Friday, May. 03, 2002 ~ 3:49 p.m.

Waiting for the door to close, Rose pulled the book back to face her and flipped through what she had written already. She already felt like she remembered everything, the hole inside her had been filled, but she found the more she wrote, the more she remembered. It was almost as if the memories themselves were packaged with all the details and memories of their own. All she had to do was dig deep enough and she'd know everything.

She smiled as she heard the faint click of the door and then silence. She read over the last page and picked up where she had been before the welcome interruption.

"They taught me much, but they also kept me fairly sheltered. There was a mystic among them who had warned them I would be fairly fragile in the first weeks following the escape from the life I had known. They listened to his advice and let me experience everything good, but hid the bad from me.

"In those weeks I learned to read and write, to dance and sing. They encouraged me in my art. They did everything in their power to keep me from feeling the void my family used to fill.

"From time to time, I've caught myself humming a strange, ancient sounding tune. I realize now that it was one of the first songs I learned from the gypsies. I know there were words to go with the tune, but they're lost in the clutter of my mind.

"The gypsies protected me, but they also taught me to protect myself. I became at least slightly skilled at both archery and sword play, but we were all surprised when we found what I was able to master.

"I've always preferred daggers as my weapon of choice and I usually keep a few hidden amongst my clothing. This was another thing that survived the trials of time. In most cases, time tends to destroy, but in this case, time fed my skill, and my skill grew to the point that when I lost my memory, the mastery remained."

She stopped a moment and thought on where she left the last set of daggers she had been given. They were a gift from an old friend. Ten beautifully crafted daggers. The pommel was coated in gold and shaped to match a rose as it opened. They were evenly balanced with a good weight. Perfect for hand to hand fights as well as the throwing she preferred, but she knew she'd never use them. They were too perfect.

"It was a month before I stopped missing my mother with every thought of her. It was at least another month after that when I was exposed to some of the bad they had sheltered me from."

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