~*Sheran Amir*~
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Appearance:
Age: 18
Description: 5 ft 5" tall; long, dark brown hair; dark brown eyes.
History:
Former home: Saldaea
She awoke gasping for breath, her blanket in tangles around her, sweat beading her brow, but already the vision of terror was fading.
Her roomate, as usual, reamained undisturbed and Sheran continually thanked the Light for the mercy of having a roomate who could sleep through the Last Battle. It was one of the many things she was grateful for in this, her third year in the White Tower. She had almost constant access to the library, outside her chores if she wished she could hide away in some corner in the library and avoid others or roam the stables to check up on her horse. She was safe and she knew that, but still the nightmares persisted. Not as numerous as they were before, but they always dragged her back, a constant reminder of her loss.
As if she could ever forget.
She was fourteen when her parents were killed. Sheran and her younger brother Farin had ridden home with their aunt and uncle to find their parents' farm in flames, the trollocs just having fled the area.
Their uncle, Haroma, had tried to stop them from seeing their parents' butchered bodies, saying grimly, "They died well." But Sheran had seen them, the broken bow near her mother's equally broken body. Her father's nearby. The longsword he had once used in the cavalry stained with trolloc blood.
She had the comfort of knowing taht they and the farmhands had dispatched of near a dozen trollocs before they were killed. But maybe if they had returned home sooner, seen the smoke earlier...
For the next year she and Farin lived with their aunt and uncle until this last home was once more lost to her by the cool eyed glance of a visiting Aes Sedai. Now Sheran had a new place in the White Tower, but only her dappled horse Storm Cloud and the dagger that her mother had given her remained with her from her old home. Her brother, with their uncle's guidance was eventually going to join the Saldaean cavalry.
She was positive that it was his last visit that had brough the nightmares charging back. Looking so much like their father with his hawkish nose and quite smile.
Sighing she finally managed to soothe herself back to sleep, with her brother's face fading from her sight. She never realised that the last drops of sweat sliding off her cheek were really tears.
