What a shame we all became such fragile broken things. A memory remains, just a tiny spark. But sometimes a tiny spark is all that is needed to fan the flames of revolution.
Even the oldest Enchanters who were taken at the youngest ages remember something of their lives before...the feel of a warm summer rain kissing the skin; walking through fields of stalks upon stalks of golden wheat whose kernels stick to the sides and back of your best wool vest; the taste of the first snowflakes of winter on the tip of the tongue. Those few moments of freedom drive us, those who want only to live as other men do.
The Chantry took us when we were at our most vulnerable, mere babes thrown to the wolves. Led from our homes, our families, all we ever knew. They broke us and yoked us like wild stallions being prepared to plow fields. They shamed us and beat us into submission for crimes we might commit without ever giving us the chance to prove that we were innocent. We were mere children, frightened and alone, persecuted and prosecuted, leashed and caged without benefit of trial or jury.
But that spark, that tiny ember in the abyss of our darkness, that is what drives us.
We were all born free and free we shall be again.