Lisell was to remember this day for the rest of her life. A day of quick movement. A day of impressions. A day of beginnings. Pulling the shift over her, she did not have the time to luxuriate in the soft and delicate feeling of the soft cloth as it settled upon her young body. One moment of estactic sensation as the gentle garment draped itself over her youthful body. A moment that stamped itself into her mind forever more. This was heaven for the child. She had worn her last and only shift for more years than she cared to remember. This was a feeling that she couldn't really describe. Soft, and yet, somehow crisp at the same time. The off white garment seemed to mold itself to her young body. Without a second thought she put her feet into the soft and pliable slippers that lay next to her bed. A feeling of total contentment washed throughout her. The slippers were of a simple cut, but were lined with a fine and soft fur that seemed to envelope her feet in a feeling of warmth and comfort. She found herself scurrying out of the door after the older woman. Majjerit kept up a quick pace that seemed to belie her obviously advanced years. Lisell found herself almost running to keep up with the old crone. As she was soon to realize, this was to be the pattern for the next few years of her life. A quick and hurried breakfast, that had to be gulped down to keep up with Majjerit. A mad dash to another room that seemed to be inhabited by some dozen or so young women that were industrially bent over benches that were covered by garments of every hue and color. The Lady that seemed to be in charge of this beehive rushed up to Majjerit and bowed low asking at the same time "What can this humble one do for the Mistress?" A few moments of mumbling between the two women. Then Lisell was guided to a small platform and told to stand completely still while she was measured in every conceivable way. With the head seamstress making sounds of hemming and hawing around her, she was able to keep fairly still. At the end of thirty minutes of poking and probing and the sensation of tapes wrapping themselves around her pre-teen body, and she was finally released to the care of Majjerit. A quick exit from the hall of sewing women. A mad dash down the bewildering halls of the palace and they were in the presence of another older woman. This person was sitting behind a giant desk that was so massive that it hid everything of her except for her small eyes that seemed to glow with a passion that unsettled her in a way that she couldn't quite fathom. With Majjerit standing behind her and keeping quiet, Lisell was forced to answer a seemingly unending series of questions that had to do with her level of learning. "Can ye read?" "Can ye write?" "What is 27 plus 54?" "Where is Reme?" "Why does a Lady eat so little?" "Why do you call upon God?" 56 questions of this sort were fired at the young girl in such a rapid fire manner that she had trouble getting an answer out before the next question hammered at her. Her head spinning in confusion, Lisell tried to answer what she could. But she felt like a buffoon by the time the session came to an end. Her mind overwhelmed, and her body dripping with sweat she felt as if she had been assaulted by the greatest and most devastating storm to ever strike the kingdom. Feeling as if she was a total idiot the child tried to answer all of the questions and she came to the conclusion that she was so lacking in knowledge that she would be ushered out of the palace post-haste. At the end of the questioning, she was barely able to stand, and felt the tears of failure streaming down her cheeks. The soft and loving hand of Majjerit touched her shoulder. The old witch leaned over her and looked the inquisitor in the eyes. "See ye what?" spoke the raspy voice of Majjerit. "Promise" was the whispered answer. "A hint of .....Nay, more than a hint.....A promise, a promise of, well....a real mind." With this the old woman sank back into her chair and made a motion that indicated that the interview was over. Majjerit took Lisell by the shoulder and ushered her from the room. As they entered the long corridor, Lisell tried to speak, and bring the many questions that were rampaging through her mind to her vocal chords. This was not to be. She couldn't quite catch up to the older woman. Forced into a pace that was just short of a run, she trailed behind Majjerit by several feet as they came to a crossing corridor. What happened next was forever imprinted upon her mind. They had just barely turned to the left into the large hallway, when Lisell heard the tramp tramp tramp of many marching feet. Out of the semi-darkness that enshrowded the hallway came a troop of men that were clad in the livery of the King. Tall men. Men with a purpose. Men armed and armoured. Men that knew they were supreme in their world. Men that stopped and bowed low to Sister Majjerit. Men that extended that same curtesy to Lisell.