<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Sample_96d07109ba96ff8a32e0bf433e8cfb65.jpg)</div><strong>Winter Moon</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/11ogZygWOLgzeRT9I2XBGFZvyoCEucX4EhHP2VtZPMMo/edit)<br/><br/>Some said that in those days a maiden could walk unmolested from one end of Thera to another carrying a bag of gold.  Ahmes seemed to be all but putting this to the test.  The comely young scribe strode down a road between farming communities with a satchel of traveling suplies, a hefty bag of mail, and a walking staff.  Wearing naught but sandals that wrapped up her calves and a calf length tunic belted with copper medalions, Ahmes could easily be mistaken for a journeywoman scribe working as a mail woman—at least 'til one got close enough to note exactly how beautiful the maiden was.<br/><br/>Ahmes was, in fact, one of the chosen.  She had been—and  a member of the Rhamadene order—for three months now.  Still early in her training and considered by some in the order better suited to the Seers despite the martial nature of her gifts—a simple undercover patrol in the Theran countryside had been deemed a good introduction to her new job.  Perhaps she'd face a few bandits, or chase a few thieves.  Ahmes suspected the real purpose of this assignment was to see if she'd seek another path when she saw how boring long stretches of this life could be.  It didn't bother Ahmes, and she sang cheerfully in Egyptian as she walked.  If she'd not awakened, the life of a postwoman might have suited her just fine.  She enjoyed reading letters to country folk, and working commissions to pen more of the same.  Sooner or later, the wrath of the Winter Moon would be called upon Thera's enemies once again, but this was a fine way to pass the time 'til those powers were needed.