31 Aug Nolia

With a deep sign from the depth of her heart, Nolia pushed her finished work of the long evening back. She hated those long hours of repairing and polishing weapons and gears. Worse, she would be stuck with it for the entire hunting season, as the only female in this year’s hunter trainees and at that the youngest in the group.

Nolia had no real talent in healing or crafting, or in any useful magic at all, so she wasn’t chosen by the tribe’s shamans or crafters as an apprentice. As the oldest child of a fatherless family with four more younger siblings to feed, she wasn’t given the normal choice to go to the convent, as was given to other talentless girls, so they could learn the general magic, since it was costly and won’t bring in any quick coins. The Elders wanted her family off their support role. So Nolia chose the only way she thought would be good for her and her family. She went to the hunters. They wanted no girl in their rows, but she had proven herself in tracking and survival and mastered the entrance ceremony, forcing them to take her.

They did give her the most unloved works to do. And the most boring.  Sometimes Nolia almost wondered whether washerwoman wasn’t so bad an alternative. But only almost. Her mother with the frostbitten fingers was proof enough. And she brought meat for dinner far more often than they had before that. She picked up her own gears, old and used, but in better state than they were when she got them, and her bagged squirrels and started her way home.

It was already dark outside, but with the lanterns outside the pubs and magical flimmers on the healers‘ and crafters workshops, Nolia found her way easily. The shadows between the light spots made her almost invisible with her dark and tan clothes. Different for the group near the tribe’s library. They wore the reds and greens for the crafters‘ apprentices and blues for the healers‘. One of them wore the dark brown and black of the shamans‘ and the broad bright collar marks her as a trainee in her last year.

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