Hana Iwanuga

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Hana
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Joined: Wed Dec 28, 2011 12:06 pm

Hana Iwanuga

Post by Hana »

"The First Rose of Summer blooms alone, far in the mist mountains high..." hummed Hana as scrubbed the linen in the washtub. Laundry was tiring, and terrible for her hands, but if she did it at night, it was the only time she could truly be -alone-. It was the worst part of being in the Tower- there were people everywhere, and in almost every room there was someone to smile at, someone to curtsey to, someone who wanted something fetched, or delivered, or cleaned. There was no place to go for the peace and quiet she had grown so used to in the woods around Hinderstap. Song should be the only thing that should break the silence of nature, her father had said. And it was true- as a gleeman of some renown, he had told his only daughter many stories that broke her heart, and taught her many songs that lifted it. Words are worth less than silence, she thought, without the cadence of true music.

As she continued to scrub the bedsheets, paying careful attention to the sticky bits (Probably the Green Ajah, she thought), she tried to remember what life was before the Tower. It was not easy. Things only came back in little fragments, in between all the new memories of lessons, chores, switchings, and work. She had only recently learned to read, and even lessons that others found easy she found great difficulty in. Her mother never knew how to read, and had no interest in letting her learn either. She would say that girls needed to learn more important things than making marks on paper, and that marking papers wouldn't feed anyone. Such irony, thought Hana, considering what little we had was bought from men with plenty of marks in their books. It was this attitude that had made Hana learn to flee to the forests to escape, to seek peace in the trees and the gentle embrace of nature.

Trying to recall the people she had lived with for fourteen years brought the pains back, little sharp needles behind her eyes. She still felt the pain now, but it wasn't as sharp as it was when she first felt them, and only occurred when she saw particularly bright glows around certain people. At first it had been almost intolerable, when even the faintest glow would trigger horrible headaches. Arleve Sedai had said it was a gift, but it had been impossible to think of it as such. Her books told her that what she saw were ta'veren, people whom the Wheel weaved itself around. Perhaps it was, but Hana had always believed that people had made their own fate. Just as I make mine, at this moment. One pillowcase at a time.
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