Alone

Ever since I was old enough to hold the baby, I wanted one of my own. Or two, or three even. As a Dry Towns woman, there was no other life for me than that of a wife and mother. I've grown up expecting nothing else. But nobody wants me. It's not that I'm not pretty, far from it. I was undeniably the most beautiful maiden in the whole town, with a perfect figure, long flowing hair and enchanting grey eyes.

It's those eyes that are the problem. Or rather, the laran which comes with them. Nobody else knows I have laran. I can't speak to another without words, or kill with a thought. But it's there, and I can't control it. I've tried.

It was a long time before I discovered my laran, although it seems to have worked since the day I was born. My father never took any notice of me then, but that wasn't unusual, really. My brothers and sisters rarely talked to me. My own mother took care of me only because she had to, and she stopped that as soon as I could look after myself. I had no friends or playmates as I was growing up. Even now, people hesitate to talk to me, which they only do if they really have to. More often than not, they just point at something, and expect me to know what they want me to do, which I've had to learn by experience. I'm the only one in my home with her own room. I've always been alone, and I hate it.

I began to suspect something was wrong when I was twelve. My father was starting to consider my betrothal, and would often invite his friends, and their sons, to dinner. To meet me, of course. I was never allowed to speak, or even look up. I was always a good girl, and never thought to question my place. Looking back on it, I think my father may have suspected my laran more than I did. My passive waiting didn't stop it from working though. Invariably, my father would begun by describing my incomparable beauty. He had taken the loveliest woman in Carzan, and all of his daughters were ravishing, me most of all. It always pleased me to hear him describe me. It meant that he had noticed me, after all. I later discovered that every man and boy had admired me from afar, waiting until I was of age to marry. If only they had known.

After my looks came my home-making skills. Even at twelve, my cooking was regarded as among the best in town. Needlework came a close second. Indeed, everything was. Had it not been for my laran, I would have been the ideal wife for any man. This too was a well known fact. I never gave myself airs about my skills. They were, to me, simply a necessary part of a woman's life, to be learned and used as well as a woman can.

My father never had a problem selling my virtues to his friends. Always they would agree that I was the perfect match for their sons. And then I would be called in to be viewed. That was when they would say 'sorry, I wasn't quite right', or they suddenly remembered a prior agreement with somebody else. Then they would leave as soon as they possibly could. My father would send me to my room, and not speak to me until the next special dinner was planned.

After the first few times, I learned to go to my room as soon as I was rejected. Doing this seemed to break whatever spell I had over my suitors, and they would frequently stay a while longer, though still somewhat uncomfortably, I was told. More than once, I was offered sight unseen, my potential husband not being allowed to view me until the wedding. This rarely worked. Tell a young man they're not allowed do something is like telling them to go ahead and do it. Five suitors crept into my room at night to see me. And each time, they left after nothing more than a glance, and the betrothal would be broken off the following morning.

Only once have I made it to a wedding day, and that was the day I finally realised what it was I had. Clothed in my finest gown (which I had had to make alone, as my sisters had long since been married, and my mother refused to help), I walked happily into the town square on my father's arm. Everyone was waiting for us. My father's friends and their sons and women. The town officials. And my groom. He stood with his back to me in the middle of the square. I had no idea what he looked like. All my father had told me was that he had found me a husband. I was eager to see the man with whom I would raise a family, but all I could tell from this distance was that he had sandy brown hair, and held himself tall and straight. A man next to him saw me, and whispered something to him, and my man turned around.

I didn't recognise him, nor did I expect to. We had long since eliminated all the family friends, and I didn't know every man in town by sight. (He was actually from another town, but I didn't know that until afterwards) He wasn't the most handsome I'd seen either, but he wasn't hideous. I couldn't see much from that distance, mind. I remember that he smiled as he saw me. I smiled back coyly, turning my face downwards, while continuing to look at him secretly. I remember he seemed to grow more handsome with every step I made, until I was just a handful of paces from him. Then his smile faded. The blue eyes, once shining with joy and promise, now turned to disappointment. I looked up, startled, as he turned his back on me in front of the whole town. Even a stranger didn't want me! Eyes downcast, I turned and walked home. Once there, I burned my dress. I knew I'd never wear it.

My father soon came home, and called me to him. He sounded angry, but when I was standing before him, the rage left his voice, to be replaced by something else. It took me a while to identify it, but when I did, my whole life suddenly made sense. He didn't want to be close to me. It was as though he were repelled by my presence. At a distance, or in another room, the effect was unnoticeable, but the closer I came to somebody, the more I repulsed them emotionally.

My father, in halting phrases and with great reluctance, told me I should probably leave Carzan. Indeed, I should leave the Dry Towns completely, and head for the Domains. There was an order there. A group of women who called themselves Free Amazons. Women who had renounced men and lived in Guild Houses purely of other women. He told me to seek them out, and join them. It was my only choice now.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! My own father telling me to go against everything I had been taught to believe! But of course, he was right. The whole town had seen my shame. Everyone now knew, unconsciously at least, the effect I have on other people. I decided not to wait, and left that evening.

A woman travelling alone across the Drylands is normally easy prey for anyone who wants her. I never had a problem, since nobody who got close to me wanted to stay there long. I took a direct route to the nearest Domain settlement. My father had told me where to go. He had been the only person to see me leave Carzan. The only one to say farewell. He even sounded as if he meant it. The settlement I was heading for was a town the size of my own, if I could still claim Carzan so. It didn't have a Guild House, but the local people told me of a place which did. It was a long walk to Thendara, but I had no other choice.

Food and lodgings were scarce, but I was able to obtain enough to support myself. One way or another. I am not proud of the things I have done since leaving Carzan, and will not discuss them here. My journey was uneventful. My body, once slender and soft, was now lean and tough. In my brother's shirt and breeches, nobody questioned why I was looking for the Free Amazons. Nor did they question why I wanted to join them, once they heard my Dry Towns accent. A good thing, really. I don't think they would have understood if I had told them it was my father's wish, not mine.

I took the Oaths, and was given a room. For nearly a month, I did my share of the housework, and even made a few friends among my sisters. If not happy, I was at least content. Until my friends stopped coming back. When I asked, I was told they had moved to another Guild House, and I was free to join them if I wanted. The latter comment had a hopeful sound, and I knew I was no longer welcome there, if I had ever truly been. My friends had gone for good, and would leave again if I tried to follow them. My new sisters were no better than the old ones. It seemed that the Order of Renunciates had renounced me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my meagre belongings, and left Thendara. Maybe one day I will find someone who isn't repelled by me, but somehow I can't seem to cling to that hope. I am alone, and always will be. Because of my cursed laran.