On radiant Seraphae, light is an instrument. Locals practice it diligently, plucking, testing, and tuning until what it produces is just right. Many train for years, and all admire the great virtuosos of the past, but few are naturals who can make the whole process look effortless.

Ann is one such Seraphaen. By the time she was six, she'd already moved on from the instant healing of cuts, scrapes, and bruises via energy manipulation that most eleven-year-olds were just getting the hang of.

By eleven, she favored judging and interpreting individuals solely by the energy surrounding them, by the feel, shape, colour, and heat of it. She had decided she no longer needed her eyes to see the world and shut them forever.

It wasn't the first time someone had successfully willed themselves blind because their third eye was so much stronger than their other two. It had, however, been a very long time.

As some of her peers excelled at healing physical ailments and others those of the mind or spirit, adult Ann blossomed into a Memory Weaver.

On Seraphae, such weavers are rare and respected. They can retrieve and store memories of the dead within themselves, making them the ultimate preservers of culture. All their collective history flowed through Memory Weavers; everything they knew about themselves was due to them.

Though Ann understood the significance she had for her people, she couldn't resist the lure of the Athelan Battlegrounds once Cosmic Law was decreed. Collecting the wisdom of other species beyond her own was too great a temptation; each champion was a treasure trove of information, and it would all dissipate if they fell in battle and no one was there to extract and conserve it. What a waste!

Besides, her planet, like all the others, needed a defender; there was no way around it!

None wanted her to be the one to go. Not the elders, not the children, not anyone in between. But Ann was as stubborn as she was exceptional, and her talent couldn't be restrained.