Ink stains on her fingers. One would think she was still a scribe whiling away her hours in the safety of a musty library, not an exile roaming the deserts with the guns at her hips as the only true constant in her life. But then, Anne wasn’t like your every day Sinner. In fact, she wasn’t really a Sinner at all. Anne was Unmarked, one of the few born to every generation who never got the Sign that marked them as Sinner or Saint. She was also the first Unmarked anyone had heard of who chose to forsake the safety and comfort of a Saint’s life to wander in exile with the Sinners.
Few from her old life as a scribe in the Priesthood would recognize her now, riding rough for days at a time, never settling at any of the ramshackle exile townships. The only thing that hadn’t changed about her was her thirst for knowledge. It probably never would.
That thirst was the reason she had joined the Priesthood and it was the reason she’d later abandoned it and chose exile. She struck out to search for the Forbidden Texts when her studies of the Priesthood’s books had proven fruitless. Not futile though, never futile. She knew that she had learned much those years she spent teasing out truths from between the crumbling pages. But in the end, everything she had learned there only made her want to know more. So she abandoned everything she knew to seek it out. It wasn’t a decision she had made lightly. Most days it weighed heavily on her, what she had done, but it helped her to know that her quest was not a selfish one. The knowledge she sought was not only for her own sake.
She knew that somewhere, locked in ink, there were truths that would set the entire world free. Truths that people, she suspected perhaps the Priesthood itself had kept hidden to suit their own purposes. Purposes she meant to discover. If that meant the destruction of the current order, so be it.