Character: Astrid
Age: 11
Physical Features: Long brown hair tied in a plait. Average height, average build, blue eyes, fair skin.
Clothes: medieval style dresses, after chapter two she wears a gold circlet on her forehead.
Background: Astrid is the sister of the young king. Her aunt is the current Nsere which is a bit like a pshychic adviser to the king (or Holywoman). Astrid was blessed with powers of the Holy which is a bit like saying she is an embodiment of God, a Holywoman with special powers. Her brother the king is about to go to war to defend their borders against neighbouring kingdoms.

Introduction of character scene: (I've only just started this book, so I don't have much to show you yet, but this scene will probably appear in chapter two)

Astrid dug her toes into the grassy slope and pushed herself the rest of the way up the hill. Right at the top the Tree of Wisdom stood overlooking the valley. She paused a moment to admire the gnarly old branches that reached upwards towards the sky, naked of leaves at this time of year, instead clothed in a mass of tiny pink flowers.
The moon dove had followed her and found a perch among the ancient tree’s limbs.
‘I don’t know why you bothered,’ Astrid told the bird that was now sitting, happily preening its long white tail feathers. ‘You needn’t follow me around every where because you made a mistake. I’m not the next Nsere. I can’t be. I’m too young and I don’t know anything.
The bird ignored her comments and continued to run it’s beak through the pure white fibres of the feathers.
Astrid plonked herself at the base of the tree and leaned against the trunk. The old grey bark had always seemed warm and alive, with wood that felt more like the soft skin of a lambs ear than the cold, hard and splintery trunks of normal trees. She turned herself a little to pat a hand against the silky upright.
‘You understand old friend … don’t you? They’ve all got it wrong.’
Until now, Astrid had never thought her conversations with the big, elderly giant had been unusual. Whenever she made the trip up here she talked to the tree and although it never used words, she understood perfectly what the intelligent wood was saying.
‘Special,’ the Tree of Wisdom said, it’s voice a rustle of wind through the many blossoms.
A sudden gust pulled at the branches, plucking the blooms from their stems and throwing them joyfully into the air. They swirled up over Astrid’s head and out over the valley in a delicate and beautiful spiral.
‘Oh,’ Astrid breathed.
For the first time since Aunty Islda had placed the gold circlet on her head, Astrid thought she understood. She did hear the Tree of Wisdom speak and the Moon Dove had chosen her, the third daughter of a king to be a vessel for the powers of the Holy. All the little things she had done, for as long as she could remember, she had never thought they were special, never spoken to the other children in her family about, because she assumed they all did them too.
The moon dove stopped preening for a moment and looked down at her, it’s brilliant blue eyes capturing her in their peaceful stare.
‘All is as it should be,’ the dove said and Astrid realised it wasn’t the first time she had heard that musical voice.