Ithaera en'Damier
| Ithaera en'Damier | |
|---|---|
| ih-THEER-EE-ah COO-en-ah en-DAH-ME-air | |
| Created by | Daniel Booth |
| Information | |
| Gender | Female |
| Occupation | Novice |
| Affiliation |
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| Nationality | Andoran |
| Attributes | |
| Talents | |
Ithaera en'Damier is an Andoran Novice of the Grey Tower.
Description
Ithaera stands approximately 5 feet three inches tall. She has deep brown hair and brown eyes. She is full figured, neither overtly skinny nor portly. She rarely smiles - unless she is reminiscing about her past or praising the Creator. She always dresses either in fine livery or in her uniform as an Inquisitor for the Hand of the Light.
Ithaera also hates all Channelers - including herself. She knows what she is, and she fears this truth. The evil is in her blood, and she will make every attempt to reach salvation. She makes it very hard for others to come to like her.
Biography
"Live for the Love of the Light and the Creator; this above all else. Hope for Salvation and a chance of Rebirth. This will bring all else together." - Priest Hasim Verethal, Child of the Light
"Remember our words: 'Family. Duty. Honor.' Family first. Honor second. Duty third. Self last. Serve them all before you serve yourself." Amora en'Damier Sedai, First Selector of the Blue Ajah, Ninth Dowager Amyrlin of the Grey Tower, High Seat of House en'Damier of Whitebridge.
Ithaera Cuena en'Damier grew up in Whitebridge like all members of the en'Damier family, but not on the estate with the High Seat and daughter-heir's branch of the family. Ithaera lived with her father, Daeryn Tovram en'Damier; her mother, Marjeurite en'Damier (previously a'Hageuan); her brother four years behind her, Daeric; and little Martyn, eleven months younger than Daeric to the day. Like most children of noble birth, her parents attended important balls and celebrations, went on hunting games, attended tea parties, and traveled abroad. The occasions in which Ithaera and her branch of the family saw the High Seat and her brood of Aes Sedai were brief and sparse between, as they generally abandoned their duties to Whitebridge and resided in the heretictical Grey Tower. As such, the youth learned most of their important lessons from their governess, Lynnet Olvagos.
Lynnet - or Nanna, as the children called her - spent every night telling her wards various stories of the world. She had travelled some in her younger years, and she shared those experiences with her master's children. After all, the en'Damier line needed to be wary of the evils out there: Aes Sedai bent on freeing the Dark One; Asha'man driven insane and destined to Break the world again; the three Towers of Witches - The White, the Black, and the Grey; Warders - men and women bound against their will to serve the malignant channelers; turned wolves in human skin. She also spoke of the en'Damier line, complete with its own set of black spots to the name, as well as the saving graces. The darkfriends Amora, Corrin, Jaisen the Elder, Saphire, Liana the bastard...those names struck fear and quiet loathing into their hearts. Liah and her consort Telam the Elder, Jaisen and Telam the Younger both, Kadar who was their father...honor and prestige.
Ithaera spent most of her time learning the courtly graces and how to be a proper lady. Daes Dae'mar became a part of daily life, almost like a second coat upon her skin - though she would never admit that she had yet to master it. She became quite accustomed to the servants at her disposal, though she would never believe she took them for granted. They were part of her daily life, yet she took pride in her (seldom) proven ability to take care of herself.
When she was not being tailored into a proper young lady, Ithaera focused on her faith. Like her grandfather, Jaisen the Younger, Ithaera believed the correct path to salvation lay with the Children of the Light. At the young age of seven, her parents sent her and her retainers to the heart of Amadicia to study amongst the militant priests. She would be joined four years later by Daeric, and at last a year later by Martyn.
As the years passed, the children became aware of their callings. Ithaera made headway as a student of the Hand of the Light. She sought out the one Truth doggedly. Daeric took the path of the warrior, joining the main faction of the Children. Martyn spent his time studying philosophy and history, and his growing dissent for the teachings of the school nearly cost the en'Damier children their rights to stay and further themselves. Eventually, when Martyn reached fourteen, he was asked to leave Amador.
Ithaera's studies impressed her teachers. She continually earned high marks when working with the proper techniques of ascertaining the Truth. She put her first Darkfriend to the Question at the age of sixteen. Her teachers - and later her superiors, noted how she could always find those who truly walked in the Light and separate them from those who walked in shadows. She could not quite explain it, but she could smell violence. If the incident were bad enough, or the act fresh, her nose would lead her straight to someone who had that sour stench of violence in their heart. She feared admitting how she found the guilty to her comrades or seniors outside of direct questioning. They might see her instincts as blasphemy, and they may see her as an abomination.
Another gift she had discovered chilled her to her core. She had a knack for predicting the weather. For the first couple of years, she did not let this phase her. Correctly determining when to prepare for a light or medium rain while others walked out unprotected had amused her at first. These days, however, she knew roughly how long droughts lasted or how much moisture the air would retain. She was not always accurate, but she surprised herself with how often her soothe-saying did come true. Eight out of ten times she would grab a cloak for an exceptionally windy day with intermittent showers, or put on a beautiful sundress for a beautiful day when most feared a daylong overcast or expected a chill.
Yet once in a great while, maybe once every twenty predictions or so, she would get an ominous feeling. She couldn't quite place it, but it seemed like the wind itself whispered to her, and she strived to listen. She could not be sure, but she thought she heard human conflict and disaster on the wind...only to find that everything was fine. It felt as if the gusts rushing by her spoke in riddles. She recalled a few of Nanna's stories involving village Wisdoms who could do much the same - women who grew sick and died. Women who could channel. Women like the witches Amora, Saphire, and Liana en'Damier.
Ithaera continued her good work under the Light, helping the Children capture and put away a fair number of Darkfriends. On one occasion, however, she just could not see the evil in the young woman brought before her. She did not ever display an ability to channel, she did not have the taint of gold flecks in her eyes, and she did not stink of violence - even when the Children that brought her in for Questioning did. They had beat her to near death, not caring if she lived or died. She had been accused of being a Darkfriend, which meant the woman was as good as guilty. If she could not admit her guilt and repent, this woman would die. For the first time since Ithaera became a member of the Hand of the Light, she had met someone accused of a crime that Ithaera herself believed to be impossible. This woman smelled serene.
But how could Ithaera convince her peers of this? She did all she could under the Light and the Law. When no more could be done, she tried to convince herself that this woman would be reborn in the Light, but she was uneasy. For days she battled with herself and lost.
The night before the young woman, Nyvette, was to burn at the stake as a Darkfriend, Ithaera paid her a visit. She dressed down to a simple grey hooded cloak, neglecting her uniform for once, and came in the deep of night when the urge to sleep was strongest. She entered the room where Nyvette awaited execution. To her great luck, the guards had nodded off. She approached Nyvette's cell with care.
"Nyvette Baeril."
The woman shifted, sleepily, and sat up. She gazed softly at Ithaera. "Yes, Questioner?"
"The others don't believe your story, but I do. You do not... have the malodorous stench of violence hanging about you. I cannot, in good faith, keep you here. Tell not a soul what I do for you this night. Go forth and walk in the Light." Ithaera unlocked the cell that held mistress Baeril, then entered and unchained her. She quietly led the woman outside.
Once there, Ithaera pointed off toward the horizon silhouette. "Make for the forest to the west. There should be a path that cuts through it. Stay near enough to that path to keep your bearings, yet far enough from it that search parties do not find you.
As she spoke, she felt the wind as it gusted past her. She could almost hear it speak as it left its mark upon her. She closed her eyes and listened. When she had her answers, she turned back to Nyvette. "A storm approaches. Move swiftly. You have maybe half an hour before the clouds open up and shower you. Find shelter, and good luck."
Nyvette said not a word, but her eyes widened in shock. She nodded, then took off at once in the direction Ithaera had pointed out.
The next day, of course, brought the start of the search. None could find the escapee. Many Questioners turned to each other, asking the questions none wanted to. Did a darkfriend release her? Did she transform into a rat and scurry away? Or did someone among them free her? They had a suspect: Ithaera had, after all, taken up a stance against everyone at first. But her record was perfect! Everyone she had personally put to the Question had been tried and found guilty. In the end, she even conceded that the verdict reached was the only decision possible. They knew the truth; Ithaera could see it in their faces. They let it go, let her go.
Less than two weeks later, a peculiar missive showed up for her. The parchment had been sealed with the sigil of House en'Damier: four swans in flight pressed in cobalt wax. She eagerly broke the seal, hoping to be in receipt of word from her mother and father. Instead, she found words that haunted her. She managed to read two lines before she realized who had sent the missive. She threw it away from her and screamed in fear and anguish. Yet she knew she had to finish reading it. Even before she picked it up to continue, she knew what it was about...
Lady Ithaera en'Damier of House en'Damier of Whitebridge Questioner of the Hand of the Light
Well beloved child, I greet you well,
Young Ithaera, my great-great-granddaughter. Though your grandfather, my grandson, has kept you estranged from me, I would embrace you with warmth and kindness.
I know he does not wish it, and I have abided his desire that I not contact his branch of the family, but in your case I can remain silent no longer. I write to you now to save your life.
You have used your ability to sniff out violence and listen to the wind for your advantage. This is commendable. Yet I know you know, deep inside you, that they set you apart from others. And while both of your instincts can be lent to refinement through education, one of them is only possible if you are a wilder.
Yes, read my words dear one and hear me now, for by the First Oath I can neither speak nor write a word untrue: you have inherited the grand gift of the spark. It is the same gift I was given, and was inherited by my children, one of whom was your great-grandfather, Kadar. You have great potential to learn to channel that power for the greater good of the Light. Yet if you do not learn, as Kadar did not, you may perish. Three out of four women with the spark do not survive the learning process on their own.
Find a way to the Grey Tower and you shall learn, and live.
Remember our words: Family. Duty. Honor. Family comes first. Heed my words as your High Seat and your elder, and come. Whatever our differences, you will find shelter here.
From the Grey Tower, on the twenty second day of Dany - six days before the Feast of Lights,
By the hand of Lady Amora en'Damier Sedai High Seat of House en'Damier of Whitebridge
Ithaera packed her bags that night and left by the darkness of the new moon. She left everything behind but the most basic necessities, an oddity for noble-born. But amongst the needs packed in her saddlebags she carefully folded and stored her Questioner's uniform. It remained tucked away at the bottom of the satchel, a reminder of who and what she was. Her clothes, her jewelry, even her retainers...all forgotten.
It took her a week to come to terms with what she had done. Sure, she had physically left her people, but she had not come to understand what that really meant. Now she hated herself for it.
She had made her choice. It was informed, but based entirely in fear. Maybe - just maybe - she could justify her decision. She would study in order to live, but she would also learn in order to inform her true family. If she could gain access to the knowledge that would bring about the Grey Tower's downfall, she would happily send word back to the Children. She rode on for the Mountains of Mist, Hama Valon, the Grey Tower, and the Novice book. She rode to survive. She rode for the Glory of Family.
Career History
- Novice
