She had never wanted for much in her life, but even as a child she had chafed against the restrictions placed on her as a daughter of the priestesses. Never allowed to roam the hills with the young boys or the lesser girls, her life was one of constant learning almost from the time she could walk. Language, medicine, the history of her people, legends and lore, herbalism and, when she was old enough, combat.
Everyone always talked about her life as though it were privileged, but Emelethana had never felt lucky to have been born into the priesthood. She’d watched the other children of her clan come back from far-ranging adventures with dragon bones or strange rocks or tales of something amazing that they’d happened on, or strangers that they’d met on the road, and only felt envy for their freedom.