Zurafai Niele

Early Years

Zurafai was born to a merchant family in Abunai, a tiny Seander village on the Sea of L’Heye. She was a late child to the Niele family, still small when her thirteen year old sister was condemned during the yearly testings and taken to be damane. Her eldest brother, Chakai, was already within the distinguished ranks of the morat’torm, which only left her and Assaru at home. She was never close with either of her brothers, the gap between their ages too distinct.

At fifteen it was declared that Zura was suitable for sul’dam training, and she left her rural home for the capital. She was a serious and diligent student, and took her duty to the Light and the Empire close to her heart. With the damane she had a calm and patient hand. When she finally earned the uniform, Zura immediately looked for her sister, now named Shea, intending to request a transfer after rumours of the poor handler Shea had been placed with. But both Shea and her sul’dam had been lost years before, in a journey across the sea. She did not feel sad for her sister’s death, having never really known her, but she was angry that such a valuable damane had been placed in careless hands.

We Are Not Blood

It was not long after her promotion that Chakai sought her out. She respected his rank — morat’torm were both rare and revered for their dangerous work — but she did not know this man despite their shared blood. She could count on one hand the times he had returned home while she was a child. Yet he confided in her. Begged her to help him find their sister, so that he might see her and finally allow his mind to rest.

“I looked for you when I earned the right to be called sul’dam, but by then you were long gone – in fact, I thought you dead until recently, and would never have given you a second thought, but for Chakai. He never believed; he thought I hid you from him, wanted to see with his own eyes what you had become. He could never… accept, and that is an ill quality for a person to have. It was far below his station to even think on a damane, let alone worry about one. It concerned me. I am a dutiful citizen, marath’damane – in fact duty is very important to me. Everyone has their place in the Empire, and must shoulder their responsibilities accordingly. He asked me for a favour, blood to blood. He wanted to see you, to put his final ghosts to rest.

So I reported him.”

Zurafai

Zura was confused by the need, and perhaps a little stung in a way she could not quite put into words. Chakai cared for a damane enough to jeopardise his place in the Empire, despite her being a woman struck from their family in shame. But he asked next to nothing about the sister standing right in front of him, even though it was his clear expectation that she should share in his risk.

So she only did her duty.

Chakai’s punishment saw him stripped of his titles, his leg broken so badly she discovered (many years later) that it never healed properly, leaving him unable to ride again. He was banished across the sea that had claimed their sister, to Altara. She never expected to hear from him again.

Sul’dam

The years continued to pass, and Zura’s career continued to progress. She cultivated a reputation for tenacity and kindness, able to tame the most difficult of damane. As the Corenne continued and more land was claimed back in the name of the Empress, she grew adept at soothing the leashed Aes Sedai into accepting their new lives. But her greatest skill lay on the battlefield. She fought in the many battles surrounding Arad Doman against the Asha’man of the Black Tower, led by Dayren Daimon, who was later crowned king.

It was many years later when she heard once more from Chakai, much to her surprise. Two decades had passed since their last meeting, and the time had not been kind to him. There was a chasm between them now and she eyed the clutch of his walking stick without regret, curious enough to hear him out. But he did not come with pleas, or even asking the forgiveness she might have expected; he came with information:

Malaika was alive.

She was Aes Sedai.

A Sister Dear

Their meeting was arranged for an inn in Altara. Zura was intent on what she considered her duty to return Malaika to her rightful place in the Empire, but found herself staggered during the conversation to realise Malaika had thought Zurafai was damane, and had come with the grandeur of a rescue. In the altercation that followed her damane Tula was killed, and in the shock-back through the leash Malaika won the upper hand. Vicious with the capture, Zura shattered whatever illusions Malaika had held about her baby sister.

“Life continued without you, marath’damane, as it always does when a girl is collared. I forgot you quickly enough. Whatever my memory was to you, you were never anything to me. Not even the whisper of a memory, not even a dream.”
Zurafai

They spent the night in the elements, where Malaika seemed to silently wrestle with the truth she had discovered and what it meant now. The woman was timid, and Zura thought it must mean she knew, deep down, that her freedom was an abomination. The leash would be a kindness. She would no longer have to think or worry for herself.

As the night wore on she claimed Zurafai’s ability to use the a’dam meant she could channel herself, but it wasn’t information that was new. All sul’dam knew and were sworn to the secrecy of it. But potential was not the same as the volatility of the spark that would come whether a woman wished it or not. That was the spark that had burned the whole world, once. Only Malaika was not done with the revelations, and the second one was met with stony silence: that men had broken the world. Men, and the taint on saidin.

In the morning Zurafai expected to be carted to the White Tower, and was braced to fight. When Malaika drew out Tula’s a’dam she was certain it was about to be placed around her neck. But she didn’t. The collar was the only thing she took. She left her bag, her supplies, her gold.

And she left Zura there.