1st of Spring, 514 AV
Shijara stood inside Riverfall's gates, breathless. She was tired and cold, but she moved to the side of a building, its shadows embracing the woman in the feathered cloak. She took a deep breath, and looked to the sky. "Eywaat," she whispered, "I have not forgotten you."
"Please use your eyes to watch over my family. I am far from my desert home, but I remember the crows and ravens. I remember the sun. I... do not know what the future holds, but I pray for your guidance." Shijara stopped momentarily in her prayer. She never felt very good at such things, and her Tawna felt thick on her tongue, having not spoken it other than to herself or in her prayers. She cleared her throat and continued, "I am going to bring back inspiration to the dunes of Eyktol. I will draw my travels and show my uncle what lays beyond the sands. I will dance and breathe in the possibilities. I do not wish to remain silent anymore. My tribes tells me to not chase after the paintings of the sun, the mirages, but what if just one of them was real?"
"Please understand my blight."
With that, Shijara bowed her head and her Tawna became a whisper once more, "Fly forever."