Name: N’Daye Kishar
Place of Birth/Raising: Perfumed Quarter, Illian
Hair: Brown (chin length)
Skin: pasty and pale at the moment, but it will eventually be somewhere between tanned and pale
Voice: Slightly low
Other: A few scars on her back from being lashed
Special Skills: She deals quite well with the dead. Is that a skill? Other than that, she has not developed any upon her arrival at the WT
Knowledge Weakness: She can read very basic things, but has little to no education
Physical Weakness: She’s quite weak
Personality weakness: she is an introvert, and doesn’t socialize well.
Digging the shovel into the ground, producing another spade full of wet dirt, N'Daye could do nothing but breathe and focus her thoughts on the task at hand. The moon hung low in the sky, and hardly shone upon her pale luminescent skin. Biting the inside of her cheek, the girl paused to suppress the thoughts that were creeping into her mind.
With a soft thud, the fresh dirt slid off the spade of her shovel and onto the contents of the shrouded form below. It was N'Dayes duty to bury those that did not end up in the canal in the Perfumed Quarter. It wasn't necessarily a sad job, in fact, she quite enjoyed the time she spent alone... and away from where she lived.
In her 5th year, N'Daye had been removed from her parents and handed over to her aunt and uncle. Often, she would experience flashes of her life with her parents. Sometimes things were exceptionally good, and others she seemed only to remember through frightening dreams. Never did the flashes of memory occur while she was awake. All she really knew, was that her parents had handed her over to a disgusting uncle and an aunt that was hardly ever home.
N'Daye's uncle reeked of alcohol and tended to forget that his niece was not his wife, and should not be pawed at. Her aunt made her way from Inn to Inn, selling her personal "wares". Did she do it for money? Obviously not, N'Daye hardly saw a penny go into anything at their house. N'Daye had decided a few years ago that her aunt must have grown into liking the lust of other men, and not her husband.
Shivering in disgust, the Illianer girl seemed to attempt to shake off the repulsive thoughts of her uncle from the inside out. Fortune prick me! His wandering hands and the thought of him will no leave me, ever! She cursed silently.
Greasy tendrils of brown hair criss crossed in front of her eyes, and seemed to block something that was moving in the dark just beyond where she was digging the grave. Hunkering down, N'Daye assumed she might not be in the line of sight of whatever seemed to be coming towards her.
Almost at once, she heard soft plunking sounds falling around her and more than once she was pelted with something quite hard. "Hey!" She shouted. "Ouch!" Several rocks came flying at her, and soon she was lying on the ground. Laughter erupted from the area of darkness where the stones had been coming from, and footsteps thudded on ground. It wasn't the rocks that would be the most painful, it would be the words that followed.
Instead of standing up to defend herself, N'Daye had lost all drive to be independent and strong, she remained on the dirt. "Can you no do anything better with your time, N'Daye?" One voice jabbed at her.
"Why do you no be like your wench of an aunt?"
"Surely, she could be dressing you up prettier than that."
"Do you no be liking the touch of your uncle?"
"Why do you no be finding better company than the dead?"
It used to infuriate N'Daye, she used to strive to be accepted by her peers. However, she had been betrayed by them. They had pretended to accept her as one of their own, and turned their backs on her. Her life had become a joke to them. Her abuse, her job, her appearance all became the butt of their humour.
Not for the first time, did they become violent. Soon, their boots and shoes were being driven into her sides, her back, and her head. Dirt and tears stained her cheeks. "Oh, Fortune desert you, N'Daye! Can you no deal with a little violence? You did always be putting up with it before."
It was not the pain of the kicking and throwing of objects that ate at her soul, it was the shame of willing for death to come. At one time in her life, she would have cursed them all and fought back. She would have asked for the Dark One's own help. If He could have destroyed them, she would have defeated them all. No, not now. Now, she merely lay there, like a distorted and crumpled rag doll. "Beat me! If that do be what makes you happy. Hurt me." I will it. I will for you all to be bringing me death!
That's when it came, the hardest blow of them all. She drifted away from consciousness and drank in what she thought was death...
"She's coming to, Helayne Sedai." A strong, yet calm male voice tickled at her mind.
"Good." A rustle of what may have been fine silken skirts seemed to wash over N'Daye.
A fire crackled somewhere near by, and gave off a warmth that N'Daye hardly knew. Fluttering one eyelid, then the other, the Illianer girl began to recognize her surroundings. She was lying on the feathered mattress of an inn that she could never have afforded to be inside. Standing over her was one of the most beautiful and oddly ageless looking women N'Daye had ever seen. She had heard of Aes Sedai, but never really gotten close enough to see them. Surely, they would never come into the Perfumed Quarter. Why had this one?
"W-what?" Was all N'Daye got out before the Aes Sedai spoke.
"YOu would have been killed, if it had not been for us, girl. What were you doing burying bodies in the night? Why were the others trying to hurt you so badly?" Shaking her head, the Aes Sedai seemed to cast away her questions. "No, nevermind. What you will do, is tell me everything from the very beginning." The Aes Sedai must have caught the inquisitive look in N'Dayes eyes, because she continued, "Yes, from the beginning up until now."
As Helayne Sedai looked upon N'Daye with her dark brown eyes, the Illianer girl felt as if her soul was being stared into and it made her cringe. The woman was obviously majestic, but something about her was cool and cold.
N'Daye started with her adoption, and left out a great deal. Last time she had told anyone anything about her life, she had been made fun of, her character had been tortured. There was no harm in leaving out the very disgusting and grave things of her past. Besides, there was no way the Aes Sedai could really care about a grave digging Illianer girl.
When she was finally finished telling her story, which the Aes Sedai seemed quite attentive the whole time, Helayne Sedai nodded and pursed her lips. The dark pools that were her eyes seemed to dance into thought. At last, she looked down at N'Daye.
"Have you ever thought of coming to the White Tower?"
N'Daye laughed, then quickly tried to suppress it. "You do be serious, Aes Sedai? A girl like me, enter the White Tower? You do no be understanding, I'm sure. Mostly High born children do be going to the White Tower, no girls like me."
The Aes Sedai shook her head and smiled. "You and I, N'Daye, we are not so different." As if the smile had been a dream, it was gone as quickly as it came. "Now, I need you to concentrate for me...."