Biography for Jocelyn Selle

Jocelyn Selle

Never have I hated anyone as much as I have hated my twin sister Calia. She was cruel and uncaring and for years treated me like I was no better than a dog or a despicable piece of dirt. Yet, I can honestly say that I have never had so strong a bond of love with anyone as that I share with my sister. Life is odd that way; to make you hate and love at the same time. It is unavoidable though, a paradox that was never meant to be understood by mortal minds. Even with the wisdom amassed by one who has seen so many years as I cannot comprehend why, no matter what our family does to us, we continue to love them. This is the story of my life, and I intend to record it for all to know.

I was born in the city of Noren M’Shar, the farthest south of the great cities of Seanchan, to a pair of so’jhin. My mother gave birth to a set of twins that day; I was the younger of two girls by nearly a quarter of an hour. I grew up and had a comfortable life as so’jhin. It wasn’t as bad as one would imagine, being owned by a member of the Blood, but I had dreams. Calia would have been more than content to follow the same path as our parents had in their lives. She would be happy to remain no more than a slave, for despite the respect we got we were property, for her entire life. I was never as accepting as Calia was though. I wanted to convince the member of the Blood who owned my family to release me, even though they would be obligated to support me. I would join the Ever Victorious Army and perhaps be raised to the Blood myself someday. That was my dream. It was the foolishness that sprouts from all young minds, but there was a time when I truly believed I could make it happen. It turned out that this stubborn foolishness that caused me so much pain.

It was in the month after our sixteenth nameday that the festival when the sul’dam came for the testing occurred. Both my and Calia’s life changed forever that day. She, my most despised yet loved twin sister, was told she would be a sul’dam that day. To my mind it made sense that I would also be sul’dam as, even if we weren’t identical, we were twins. It seemed the Wheel and the Pattern deemed to punish me though. I was not told I would be sul’dam instead a collar was put around my neck. My former owner and my family were told to strike my name from all records, that Calia was an only child. I was made damane.

To my mind, being made damane was the ultimate blow to my pride. Calia got absolutely every bloody good thing in the world, and I was left with what my ever so lucky sister rejected. Between the two of us, Calia had the beauty. She had raven black hair that always seemed to have a wonderful shine, she had bright, crystal blue eyes, and she had the attention of every man, woman, and child every time she stepped out the door. People simply adored my twin. I, on the other hand, was not so gifted as Calia. I didn’t have her beauty; my hair was chestnut colored, slightly frizzy, and had never had the same beautiful luster as my sister’s. My eyes were a plain light green which many might have considered strikingly colored had they not been compared to the crystal blue eyes of Calia. When I went out I was always in the shadow of Calia, the ever perfect twin. When she was made sul’dam and I was made damane it was just another example of the way Calia got everything.

For a year after that day I did not see Calia, and I was glad for it. I was bitter and angry and, unlike the typical Seanchan woman, I did not submit to and embrace my fate. I fought the sul’dam every chance I had, and I received more than my fair share of beatings from an angry sul’dam. A damane did not need to be in physically good shape to be useful anyway. After a time I grew accustomed to the beatings I received and would cease to give the sul’dam that beat me the satisfaction of hear me cry out. I would not be broken; I promised myself that. Yet after months of being mistreated, I found myself losing the ability to fight back. I had, against my will, become almost eager to respond to commands. I’m not sure what I did when I realized this, but somehow I locked the core of my personality away from the world. I put my mind in a place where the sul’dam could not reach it; I gave up physically so that I could persevere mentally. It was at the very moment that I did this that another entity was born. A few months later, my formerly loving sister gave this new being a name. That name was Juri.

Everything that happened after that point is still no more than loose memories that feel like snatches of a story that someone told me. My recollection of that time is like remembering a gleeman’s tale perhaps, but certainly not my own memory. My conscious mind, at least as I know it now and had known it before I was damane, ceased to function to preserve itself. That is all I really know. I remember a small bit of being sent across the Aryth Ocean with Calia because I spent a portion of the journey violently seasick, and I remember being captured by an Aes Sedai. Most of the rest is lost to me.

My next truly coherent memory is waking up in an unfamiliar place and being told that I was a novice of the White Tower.


Well, are you curious? Then go check out the Wheel of Time RP on the Wheel of Time books by Robert Jordan!