Somewhere in the Prosanim Mountains
December 15, 794 TSR
Sara was very confused at first. She was starting to get used to that. She felt like she'd gotten lost somehow a few weeks ago and had been stumbling around in the dark ever since. Now she was in this odd little cabin trying to figure out the right questions to ask the men in there with her. One of the men looked familiar; she remembered him -- the minstrel.
"It was the only decent thing to do. I swear," he chuckled, "you certainly gave Jarel and Bryan a start. You should have seen the look on their faces when you--" he stopped when he noticed the look on her face, and knew exactly what it meant.
The other man spoke, "It's alright, your memory hasn't betrayed you. But before you get too worked up over it, you should know that it really isn't a big deal." Sara blinked.
He continued, "You see, everybody has the power, though most don't realize it. I'd heard that enough distress can cause an involuntary release, but I've seen men tortured and never seen it actually happen. You must have been having a rough time for quite a while before you came to Prosdomin, but don't look back on that now. You're safe here; and we'll teach you more about the meaning of it all. I know what you're probably thinking, and you should stop. You won't be able to dominate your own thoughts like that, just let them storm about. Attempting to damn the flow of memories like that will only wear you out. All in due time. Here, drink this." He handed her a cup of warm milk and she felt more relaxed than she had in a long long time.