Trials

[badriyah]

Badriyah observed all that was around her and made sure to take note of it as she was escorted to her room. She almost wished they had found her unable to channel and had hired her as a servant instead. Were she to be a servant, rather than an Aes Sedai, she would likely not have her superiors watching her as closely as these women who ruled the world would watch her. How am I to survive? There is only so much blood to drain from this body; but lives in this place seem to be in great abundance. Could they really need all these cooks and maids, all these novices and Accepted? And few initiates would ever gain the shawl. Well the more useless ones I may be able to corner and enjoy. Of course it would have to be without my superiors knowing…ahh, there’s a great challenge. thought the shrewd psychopath, her lips twisting in an expression of distaste. The White Tower was, however, the only place she could go in the world where the crimes she had committed previously would be of no importance to others; the only place, perhaps, where she would be given a second chance if she could manage to gain control of her cravings and diminish them.

 

The two women started into a massive gallery where white - clad girls of all shapes and sizes darted about the hallways like ants, most not daring to meet the gaze of the grumpy Accepted who escorted Badriyah to her quarters. They soon arrived at a miniscule chamber that accommodated a couple of beds, a wash basin, a closet and little else worthy of mention. As they entered, the Accepted said, “Here are your apartments, child, you are to dress in your novice garb immediately. Discard your other clothing, you will no longer have use of it. Don’t try to channel and behave yourself.” before bustling off, leaving Badriyah alone in her new quarters. The young novice washed her dusty face and undid the laces of her blouse before tossing it under the bed, then removed her breeches and stowed them away along with the blouse. The Accepted doubted she would have use of them but perhaps they would come of some use if she were forced to escape this place in the future.

 

Once she was fully dressed she lay down on one of the little beds to take a nap and closed her eyes. Her frantic journey and the excitement of the day had left her worn with fatigue. Badriyah was asleep in moments.

 

Sometime later, as she shifted and turned over with the intention of sleeping a little longer, she was startled fully awake at the sound of the door opening and sat up abruptly to face another brown – haired novice. The Murandian scowled darkly. She knew then that the Light would have her facing trials endlessly in this snowy prison.

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Badriyah Bloodlover

Novice

Badriyah’s bio

 

 

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Rory slammed the door behind her and cursed enough to melt wax. She had just been dragged off to her room by Saline and Rossa, even though neither had them had introduced themselves to her yet and she had been forced to learn up their names through other means.

 

It took her a moment to even become aware that the room was occupied by another. This fact merely spurred her defamation of character—or libel, considering—to new levels of won’t-somebody-please-think-of-the-children. The other girl looked just as absurd in the white frock as she suspected she herself would, and there was not a remote chance in Blight that she was going to don hers without a mighty struggle. Bloody and bloody, bloody Creator Damned, Dark One kissing, Light Fool slapping, baby selling ashes!

 

When she noticed the dark scowl her head almost exploded. Of course it could get worse, of course it would get worse, why shouldn’t it? Why should not the worst, most horrifying day of her life without end last just that little bit longer, get just that little bit worse. Why they were so interested in her mystified the inn keeper’s daughter, why she was not allowed to leave, and why they were getting away with imprisoning her. Who were these women?

 

She spotted the window. Yes! Her thoughts began to shape around an emerging idea, the little horn rising from the sea of troubles to become an even bigger one. Her bed was utilitarian, with few blankets, covers, or sheets, but if she cut them up and threaded them together, along with the other bed . . . she just may be able to get out of the window. Yes!

 

She turned to the other girl and said conversationally, “I’m going to need your bed sheets,” before starting to tear at her own with her bare hands and teeth.

 

 

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Badriyah blinked, startled out of sleepiness at the angry-faced girl who entered the room scowling. As the intruder noticed her new roommate she shot her a sour look which the Murandian girl didn't really mind. What did it matter that the girl found her distasteful? I suppose it’s better than having the girl after me to be her pillow friend, thought the sixteen-year-old. It suddenly occurred to her how little she thought of romance. She decided after a few moments’ speculation that she had a strong preference for men, though torture seemed a far more entertaining hobby than seducing the naïve boys of Tar Valon.

 

The other girl informed her that she would be needing the Lugarder’s bed sheets, which Badriyah thought curious. Would anything of significance come of questioning the other? Did she need her own bed sheets? There did seem to be a little draft in the room and she liked being warmer than most did. No, she wouldn’t be giving the girl her sheets.

 

The roommate began tearing her own sheets and tying them, in a way that made it obvious to Badriyah that she was planning to try to escape. The young brunette watched silently for some time, ignoring the other’s comment. Eventually she said, “You may use your novice dresses, but you will not get my sheets. Why run? Where can you go where you will not be caught by somebody?” She said rather blandly, though she believed it thoroughly, in her own case as well; except that for Badriyah it was more of a matter of wanting to escape the world as though that could help her escape herself and what she’d done. But why did this girl want to run away so badly?

 

Badriyah cleared her throat and said, “So this is because of me being here? I really don’t care for this place either, but fear not, I’m not going to try to befriend you. And I’d love to have you leave so that I could have the chamber to myself, but I don’t think you can manage it so I’m not going to help you.”

 

 

Badriyah

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Badriyah Bloodlover

Novice

Badriyah’s bio

 

 

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“ What? Oh sure. I do be taking one look at your ugly mug and I be wanting to be jumping out the window. Come to think of it, you do be the spitting image of spilt pint.

 

“Perhaps you be coming here by choice. Not me. I be in the bar having a cool drink to soothe the hours of travel, and I end up in this light cursed place. Not even so much as a by your leave ma’am. Well, I will not stand for it. Would you believe that I be chased down the hall by at least three of them? That’s right, three, chasing me down the hall like I am some kind of naughty puppy in need of schooling. The nerve. Not only will my ale be warm, but it’ll be flat, mark my words. I be leaving, and I be needing your sheets to do it, I don’t wish to be mean, but one way or the other I be getting those sheets.”

 

Ripping bed sheets into strips was much harder work than it first appeared. If they didn’t come out straight they would be practically useless, more than practically useless: absolutely useless. So Rory had to move slowly and diligently and hope she moved fast enough to escape before anyone came to check. Naughty puppies always get checked on, she knew this by personal experience. Well, they’d be lucky if this naughty puppy didn’t chew all the furniture and pee on the floor.

 

The material was not exactly strong, but then it didn’t have to hold her weight for long, she was in reasonably good shape and figured she could get down to the ground before anything snapped. What kind of person lived in a great big tower anyway? Was a little odd to Rory’s thinking. Better to live on the flat, or at least in something easy to move about in. What about all these stairs? How anyone managed to get back to their room was something she’d have liked an answer to.

 

She could plait the sheets, yes, that would work, but it’d also take far too long in the making and no doubt she would be thwarted by the mentally deficient maniacs guarding her prison cell. Well, she’d see if they could stop her this time. Once she was home, she’d never leave. Ever. And especially not on any trip to Tar Valon. Wonder of the world. Bollocks.

 

With her own sheets torn and assembled to form what could pas—by stretch of the imagination—as a rope of some sort, she turned back to the other bed and its uncooperative occupant. “I be needing those sheets now.”

 

 

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Badriyah gathered by the rant that her roommate had been collected and brought to the Tower by force, which explained her desperation and resolution not to stay. However, she could not bring herself to care about the other’s feelings, much less try to imagine them. This girl was just present as an extreme annoyance to her and she would pay heed to no other aspect of her roommate’s existence.

 

As she watched the other girl use up her bedsheets in the making of this impossible rope she thought would help her escape, Badriyah could not help but wonder what she would do about the matter. Under no circumstances would she surrender her sheets to this spoiled, stubborn girl who demanded them as though she had a right to that which was not hers. If the Lugarder’s roommate challenged her words with action she would have no choice but to defend what belonged to her. Badriyah’s thoughts in response to the bold words the unwanted novice spoke was silent: One way or another you will not be getting them! One way…or another.

 

“I be needing those sheets now.” came the roommate’s Illianer - accented voice ominously.

 

The psychopathic young woman felt her whole body tense as the other turned and approached her bed intending, she supposed, to snatch the covers out from beneath her. Alert, stubborn, and mad with a feeling of possessiveness, Badriyah lunged at the young thief with razor-sharp nails, knocking her onto the floor. “You will not touch my things!” she cried as she pulled her hair and ears and even attempted to give her a black eye, though she did not have great physical strength in her arms. Badriyah’s blood bubbled with adrenalin and anger with such fury that she could not help but lose herself to it even though it took effort to try to strike the restless other.

 

And then she dug her nails into the girl’s shoulder and felt skin give way to the blood-filled flesh beneath. The crazed novice was suddenly filled with calm and hesitated as she watched the fresh, warm liquid drip from her nails.

 

OOC: Tell me if you'd like me to change anything! 

 

 

Badriyah

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Badriyah Bloodlover

Novice

Badriyah’s bio

 

 

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Where Badriyah had found a measure of calm in the drawing of Rory’s blood; Rory, in the drawing of her own blood found a measure of disbelief, shaded around the edges by an oncoming black mood. Rory had been perfectly reasonable—not to mention polite—in regard to her “room mate.” Asking for her bed sheets had been a small thing, not some monumental occasion worthy of ... whatever in the light that was! And the way she kept staring at her bleeding shoulder. It was off putting, and making Rory incalculably peevish.

 

“That do be it, fade lover!” Nothing beat the classics, and while the insult in itself was not lost on the other novice, it was benign. What followed—Rory using her body as a projectile to knock the other woman to the floor—was not so easy to shrug. Rory, of course, had typically not thought the action through and she found herself tripping and toppling along with the other, which was far from the intention.

 

A thumb in the eye, a scratch or two, some hair pulling, and they were off; rolling around on the floor as though they were conjoined. No serious blows were landed, merely kindling to further the passion. It was possible that neither was skilled, but neither could be accused of not quickly getting into the swing of it. Rory did wish Badriyah would let go of her hair, but then she could hardly expect that when she herself was pulling at a handful as one would the rope on a church bell.

 

Each using the other as a support to climb, they got back to a (relatively) upright position; there were enough curses thrown around to make a sailor not only blush, but actually catch fire. Wondrously, not only did they land on the dresser, but went up and over it, bringing it along with them as they crashed back into the floor. They needn’t have bothered standing at all really.

 

Rory was unsure if the idea belonged to her or Badriyah, or possibly it was by neutral consent that they took stock of their surroundings and the multitude of useful weapons, not to mention the various ways in which each could be utilised. Rory first attempted to throw a pillow, as it was the nearest object. Abandoning that doomed project, she next began hurling brushes and shoes and anything that looked like it had a solid edge to it.

 

Badriyah to her credit was doing equally well and finding her own array of projectile weapons, landing a blow upon the side of Rory’s face and leaving a purple welt. A detached piece of Rory hoped that noise didn’t travel too well down the corridor; else the pair would be in trouble over this “incident.” The detached piece warned caution—very sound advice—but sadly the other part of Rory had given up listening, for it had found the inkpots.

 

 

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[badriyah]

“That do be it, fade lover!” Badriyah was startled out of her trance as the other girl pounced on her, knocking her over; and the next thing she knew the two of them were rolling around on the floor, hitting, pinching, and pulling hair. “The Light burn you!”, cried the Lugarder as the small of her back slammed against one of the legs of her roommate’s bed. She tried to ignore the pain, knowing that it would distract her from the fight at hand, which may lead to her losing her bedsheets. Badriyah gripped her roommate’s fingers, twisting them backwards viciously as she tried to pound her stomach with blows from her little fist. But Badriyah was knocked away almost immediately and they tumbled across the room again.

 

At some point the young masochist realized she might be able to do a better job of cornering the other if she were standing up and so pushed the other girl down as she struggled to stand and might’ve been surprised by the other allowing this and then rising herself had she not been busy trying to think of a way to get her under control. Then the frustrating roommate pelted herself at Badriyah again, who suffered as a cushion for the other girl from the sharp edges of the wooden dresser that dug into her skin as the seemingly massive obstruction collapsed to the floor. Her roommate rose and suddenly the two of them were propelling whatever they could find at each other.

 

She clenched her teeth as the other girl tossed an uneven piece of wood off the dresser at her that hit her arm hard, ripping her sleeve and leaving splinters in her paper-white skin. Several other projectiles were sent through the air between them, including three, not-so-empty inkpots, before Badriyah was struck with what she thought of as a brilliant idea. She threw her fist into the sole window in their room carelessly, shattering it intentionally for a sharper, more deadly weapon: a shard of glass. If this didn’t make the other girl behave she would have to try to use the conveniently ripped and tied sheets to tie her hands and feet together. And if that proved to be too difficult, as she assumed it would, she might end up using the sheets to strangle her. Badriyah thought that quite a waste of a human body, since it brought death faster, which meant there would be less time for blood-drawing torture; but if the other girl pushed her that far, she felt she would have no choice but to do it. And though blood might not be drawn in such amounts as would be truly satisfying, the psychopath knew it would be enjoyable.

 

She didn’t consider that her roommate, who seemed to have experience with fighting, might harm her seriously before she could carry out any of her newly-thought-of plans. For all Badriyah knew, the other girl might have it in her to kill another as well; but none of this even crossed her mind then. With a wordless battle cry, a shriek that rang and echoed in her own ears, Badriyah charged almost clumsily at her roommate, reasonably-sized pieces of glass in each hand. She was dimly aware of a new presence in the room as she tripped and stumbled across the debris-littered floor, but was determined not to allow any who had come to watch the fight make her hesitate.

 

 

Badriyah

[Wayfarer]

After the incident involving Saline and her new Novice, Lillian had to admit to herself that her curiosity had been piqued.  It had been a few years since a Novice had caused some genuine trouble on their arrival and this girl of Saline's, Rory, had certainly done an admirable job of it.  Getting Estel to her room hadn't taken long and more than anything the woman had wanted a chance to rest.  Lillian didn't blame her, her healing had been effective but not exactly subtle, Estel dozed off in a chair the moment she had been sat down.  Taking the time to set everything up for her to make tea for herself when she snapped out of the haze, Lillian had decided she was going to satisfy her curiosity when it came to this new Novice.  Perhaps she could even offer some help to get her settled, not that it was likely it would have any effect right now if she were half as stubborn as she suspected, but there would be time.

 

It was these thoughts that were circling through Lillian's mind when, walking down one of the halls of the Novice Quarters, she became quite aware of screaming.  Hiking up her skirts and running, the screaming was accompanied by crashing and banging and to be honest, Lillian was quite amazed no one else had noticed.  Then again, perhaps those that were about knew better than to get in the middle of an argument.  But who on ea-

 

That question didn't even need to be finished as Lillian entered the room from where the noise was emanating.  What she saw was beyond belief, the room looked as if the Dark One himself had taken to it with glee.  In the midst of it, a pair of ink soaked, bruised and battered Novices of which only one Lillian recognised.  The other had managed to arm herself with glass, and despite stumbling over the debris she was still making her way at Rory, that wasn't going to do at all.

 

Surrendering to saidar, Lillian was stepping forward even as air entwined itself around Badriyah's midriff and pulled her away from Rory who had the sense to keep back, especially with an unseen force at play as well as a witness to her misdoing.  More threads of air did their work, grasping the unknown Novice's wrists and then forcing her hands to unclench, allowing the glass that she had grasped to fall to the ground.  Tying the restraints in place, Lillian turned to Rory and judiciously applied the same restraints before the girl got any fool ideas like running.  Lillian was most certainly not going to run after her.

 

Turning about to the door behind her, Lillian shut it with her hand before making her way over to the third bed in the room, the one that hadn't been demolished, and sat herself down as she regarded the other two with a smooth expression.  Whatever the story was going to be, it was no doubt going to make her wish that someone else had come down instead of her so she didn't have to deal with it.

 

Crossing her legs, Lillian folded her hands over her knee as she spoke with a quiet authority.  "Who will explain what happened here first?"

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Accepted of the White Tower

[Sam]

Rory masked her surprise well, or so she believed. There was nothing in her narrow scope of experience to explain what had just occurred, or why despite all logic she was unable to pull her hands apart. She experimented, but only a little. It was a little hard to accept that she had just about been attacked with a fistful of glass—a rather risky idea—without even contemplating the invisible ... whatever it was that had just happened.

 

She recognized her rescuer although she would not admit to having needed it. It wouldn’t be the first time she had encountered sharp objects. How the girl had managed to hold the glass without cutting herself was a feat, and at some point Rory would ask about that.  It had the makings of a swell party trick.

 

No, still unable to separate wrists. How very peculiar. For a moment she had believed the accepted had been glowing—for that is what she was, an accepted. The stupid ring said so. The woman she had punched in the eye had been wearing one just like it—glowing. What a preposterous notion. Rory had expended too much energy and was now paying for it with acute hallucinations. Yes. That was it. She just needed to lie down for a few minutes and everything would be better in the morning....

 

Rory glared at Lillian when the accepted sat down on the bed and posed her question:  a glare of defiance with a stubborn set to the jaw. She had spent the day alternating between fear and anger at that moment settled somewhere in between the two, a nice healthy sprinkling of rebellion for flavour.

 

“I be trying to escape. Yeah. You be hearing right. Escape. You no be keeping me here. I be trying for the window, but she”—pointing her thumb in the direction of Badriyah—“no be giving up her sheets.” With that she lapsed into stubborn silence.

 

[badriyah]

Badriyah gasped as she felt invisible bonds circle her hands and was lifted off her feet quite abruptly and pulled back. What under the Light…? How bizarre! And when she realized that it was an Accepted who stood in the doorway she was suddenly sure that the other woman had used saidar somehow, to put an end to their battle. It can only be that it is the True Source that keeps us from moving; I don’t think there is anything else that has such powers.

 

The door swung shut and the raven-haired Accepted seated herself on one of the beds, looking what Badriyah could only read as resigned through her smooth, authoritative expression. The crafty Murandian’s mind was racing as she began to thread together a good lie and tried to figure out how to get the other girl to play along even before the intruder asked what the reason for the fight was. But before Badriyah could utter a syllable her roommate spoke, “I be trying to escape. Yeah. You be hearing right. Escape. You no be keeping me here. I be trying for the window, but she no be giving up her sheets.” and pointed an accusing thumb at Badriyah, who was quite pleased with the other girl’s answer. Her roommate had made it sound as though she were the one who had started the violence, which suited the Lugarder so well she might have kissed the other had her movement not been limited by the Source.

 

When the Accepted turned her gaze to the young psychopath, she figured she should offer an answer. So, suppressing a smile, she said, “Forgive me, uh, Accepted, but this girl wished to leave! I didn’t want to give her my sheets because I didn’t want to be accused of assisting her. I – I wasn’t planning to hurt her with the glass…” Badriyah tactfully managed to bring tears to her eyes, and choked up as she continued, “I was just going to threaten her so that she’d stop fighting me and then I could fetch an Aes Sedai or call out the door for help. Maybe I,” she sighed, and then rather dramatically, “Maybe I did wrong, I’m sorry! I’ve just been so confused and I didn’t know what to do!”

 

The sixteen-year-old wept childishly, sobbing that she was sorry, that she was just having such a difficult time settling in, and that she wanted her mother.She could only hope that at least the Accepted would fall for it...

 

 

Badriyah

[Wayfarer]

Listening to the pair, Lillian was silent as she considered what she had been offered.  That didn't take overly long, but deciding upon her course of action did.  It would have been easy to simply take the pair to the Mistress of Novices, but something stayed her hand from taking that path.  Maybe it was because she didn't feel easy with washing her hands of the matter and simply passing the ball along.  Maybe it was because she already had a vested interest in the matter, she'd come to see Rory and discover what was going on.  She wouldn't be able to do that if she passed the matter along, what choices were left to her then?

 

Standing, Lillian weaved air along the floor, pushing the mess to one side of the room where it would no longer be underfoot.  She'd had experience with broken glass and it wasn't a memory she liked to reflect upon, and it would be senseless for someone to be hurt now that the fighting had been put to a stop.  The next step was to release the pair from their bonds, even as she pointed to the girl she didn't know and began to give instructions.

 

"You are to get a pan and a brush, go outside and gather every single piece of glass you can find out there.  When you have done that, bring that glass here and from this mess find the remaining pieces.  When I return, I expect to find this task completed."  Shifting her arm so she pointed to Rory, Lillian twisted her hand so the palm faced upward and crooked a finger.  "You are going to come with me, and if you are so foolish as to consider trying to run you will sorely regret forcing me to use saidar to restrain you a second time.  Come."

 

The look from Rory and the set of her jaw suggested she was going to say something out of turn, but the look Lillian returned as she raised an eyebrow aborted that rebellious thought.  Turning, Lillian left the room with the girl in tow.  Or rather, the girl was walking next to her as she began to protest about what had occured.  Holding up a hand and asking her to wait had little effect so Lillian simply ignored her as they left the Novice Halls for those of the Accepted.  The lack of response on Lillian's part seemed to have an effect because the girl was silent by the time they reached her quarters.  Opening the door, she ushered the Novice in and shut the door behind them.

 

Unlike Novice rooms, there were two beds to every Accepted room.  Without someone to share the room with, Lillian had taken advantage of that.  Pushing the beds together in one corner of the room, she'd liberated a couple of extra desks from empty rooms to take up the space which were then used to keep her various papers and the like organised, as well as one which held her tea set that she had in case she had visitors like now.  In the far corner, three desks formed a horseshoe which served as her main work space.  Papers, books, things that one would normally expect.  With exception to the desk that rested against the far wall, that one possessed various tools that were used to shape a number of precious stones that sat there, polished to various degrees.

 

It was towards that horseshoe that Lillian gestured to, a seat that sat on the outside that she normally reserved for guests.  "Would you please take a seat? And would you like a cup of tea?"  Getting an affirmative, Lillian cheated with the power to bring the water to boil and it wasn't long before she was seated in her usual chair, a cup of tea for each of them as she considered where to start.  The obvious answer to that question was the start.  "I don't think I've seen anyone for a long time cause so much trouble, and I have to admit I'm somewhat ignorant as to why.  Would you care to tell me your story?"

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Accepted of the White Tower

[Sam]

The question could not be sincere. It was merely another lay up to some insulting or demeaning comment whereby her own position of servitude and will-less obedience. It never came, and Rory started to feel slightly foolish for the waiting. She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat uncomfortably. For all her large talk of not wishing to be where she was—absolute truth to a word—actually being asked a question rather than a command left her legless.

 

The tea was hot and, above all, delicious. She felt more relaxed already. It was a hard thing to purposefully run amok for a day, especially with the inclusion of all that running, and the fight with her roommate, which had been fun in a way, until the glass had been brought to bear. There was nothing obviously entrapping through answering the question, so Rory decided to do it. The moment she suspected a trick was at hand, she would close up tighter than an Altaran purse.

 

“I no be wanting to stay.  Could say I be wanting to leave. It be no more complicated than that.”

 

 

Sighing, Lillian set her tea down for a moment as she looked steadily at Rory.  The girl was being difficult for the sake of being difficult now, but Lillian could and would be patient.  Sometimes that was all that it took.  "Look, I've brought you here to talk about this because I remember how difficult it was when I first arrived here.  All I'm asking is why you want to leave, and why you are here in the first place."

 

 

“Why I do be here? I do be here because some fat cow in gray told me so. That be all I know. Was not exactly given the choice between her and her impressive looking roughs. So far I be handed from one crazy trolloc kisser to another, and each had no pleasant words to say. Rory do this, they say. Rory be doing that, they say. They took my money and my clothing, and do be expecting me to wear some horrible white dress as though I be a child.

 

“I wanting to leave because I should be elsewhere. I do be having a home, and this crazy tower filled with crazy woman is not it! I see no reason to stay and why should I? Everyone I have met is most unpleasant, and all they be wanting to do is mock me. I be intending to leave at the earliest opportunity, don’t you doubt”

 

Rory drank more of the teas as though she were afraid it might disappear. Having witnessed whatever force had been used upon her, she did not doubt the possibility that the beverage might vanish with a puff of smoke, or maybe a dragon, if she displeased her hostess. The chair was so very comfortable. She realised for the first time how tired she was.

 

 

"Ah, so you weren't told why you are here..."  It wasn't a question, and it puzzled Lillian.  Then again, if Rory had reacted abruptly, perhaps the Aes Sedai neglected to tell her.  But then why hadn't the Mistress of Novices?  It was confusing, but she saw a way to help immediately by giving Rory information she could use to understand her situation.  "I'm surprised that no one has told you why you are here, and while I don't know the specifics I can tell you this much.  You have the ability to channel Rory, you know how I bound you with air?  You can learn to do that."

 

 

Rory’s colour rose and she blushed. It is possible someone had attempted to tell her previously and she simply did not hear them. There was a large part of her time still unaccounted for, having been scolded by one of the nasty cows, only to wake up lying on a bed in some other place without knowing how she got there. IT had been a disorientating experience.

 

When she heard the second portion of the statement, about binding things with air she snorted so expressively that tea almost came out her nose. It was a neat trick to be sure, but hardly one she could think of any practical use for. No. This simply wasn’t a sufficient reason and she said so. “That be all well and good, but magic tricks aren’t my home, and marble faced women are not a substitute for my parents!”

 

 

"I'm not saying they are, no one can substitute your parents."  Lillian didn't like to think on that part of her life overmuch.  She had dealt with it, but it still didn't make it any less painful.  "But there is a problem as well.  Your ability needs training, and I don't mean it needs training just for the sake of it.  If you don't learn how to control the power, you can manifest it unwittingly at the wrong times.  Imagine being angry with someone and all of a sudden feeling a rush then that person being set alight.  The control isn't only for the safety of others, its also for yourself.  Especially if you manifested the power without help, a wilder, most women who do not learn to control the power die, and they don't die well.  It’s a painful and lingering death, it was for that reason I was sent to the Tower by my parents when I was about your age."

 

 

Rory paused, pretending to take it all in. She did not really understand what the accepted spoke of, having never experienced anything remotely like it in the past. It was like a horribly well rehearsed prank, very alien and strange. If she had any “special powers” she was certainly not aware of them herself. She did remember one of the cows saying something about an “ability to channel,” but at the time she was quite preoccupied at being pushed around like some kind of pushy-aroundy thing.

 

Such a thing was also not what she wished to hear. She would have preferred to hear that her stay at the tower as being some kind of joke. That she could accept, magical powers? Bollocks. If what Lillian said was true, then the reasons for her imprisonment were a little less irrational and a little more logical. Rory could think of two women especially who could have benefitted from being lit on fire though.

 

“You do be telling me that I be going no place soon, don’t you? “

 

Frowning, Lillian wasn't sure how her answer was going to go down, but the best she could do was give it and hope her explanation that followed helped.  "Yes, for your safety and for those you love.  If you go on untrained in the power, you manifest it at the wrong time, you could easily kill the ones you love as easily as the ones you hate.  And I don't like to say this, but would you want the death of your parents on your conscience?  All it takes is one uncontrolled slip and a lot of bad things can happen.  The same reason I lost my home, the same reason every woman in this Tower lost their home.  But we either have to learn to control the power, or we die."

 

Rory sat very still for a very long time, letting the flavour of the words work its way through her mind. At first she dismissed the forecast. How could it be true? Nonsense! But as more and more time went on she began to get uneasy, if there were but a chance it could be true ... and she killed herself, worse yet, her father and mother, what would she do then. The price of her freedom now seemed almost too high ... but she really did not want to be there.

 

Fortune prick me! This was terrible. The selfish part of her, the part that enjoyed revelry and dancing, wanted nothing more than to escape and she just knew if she tried hard enough she would manage it. The other part of her, the loyal daughter and decent person knew it was a bad idea if it was even possible that she may inadvertently kill another person. She had numerous bruises, black eyes and sprains to her name, but no actual deaths. That would cramp her carefree lifestyle somewhat, if not her conscience. Blood and bloody ashes!

 

The momentum of her rebellion was quashed for the moment, and all she could manage to say was, “oh.”

 

 

That turned out better than it could have, now that Rory appreciated the nature of her enforced enrollment as such, she seemed to have calmed down a tad.  Well, not really a calm, Lillian didn't doubt that there was a whirlwind of ideas and problems going through Rory's mind, it happened to just about everyone when they arrived.  "That might be enough for you at the moment, it’s a lot to take in.  When you've had time to take it in, and perhaps a chance to rest as well, if you have further questions you can always come and ask.  My door will always be open to you should you need to talk."

 

"But now, we need to deal with this incident in your room."  Frowning, Lillian finished her tea before setting it aside.  "I should report it to the Mistress of Novices, but in this case I think what she doesn't know can't trouble her.  We're going to go back to your room, and you are going to tidy up the mess.  Hopefully the other girl has collected all the glass, I'll fix the window so no one need know what happen, and then I'm going to have a talk to her about not threatening people with sharp objects.  After that’s done, I expect the pair of you will have some things to speak about, since you will be living with each other.  Try to make peace with her whatever you do, sharing a room with someone you can't at least get along with is a misery better avoided, trust me on that."

 

"Finish your tea, and we'll be going.  And remember, if you need any help or you just want to talk, I'll be here most nights after dinner."  Standing, Lillian walked to the door and opened it even as Rory finished her tea.

 

 

Rory was no closer to freedom, and this made her sigh. That she was now less than willing to go to any length to escape was more depressing than the fact that she had been a prisoner, for now until such time as she found out more about this power, and how it applied to her, she could not risk the lives of those she cared about.  Lillian was crafty, Rory had to give her that, but what did she expect, it was doubtful that anyone could exist in such a place without learning a few tricks.

 

She was hesitant to finish her tea, as it was a nice reprieve. Right now she was not expected to be doing anything, not that the labour of cleaning up her own mess distressed her. No, hard work was a given, and something she was very used to. It was the horrible occupants of the tower, not the tower that bore her displeasure.

 

Why they had simply not told her about the risks in the first place, rather, than push her buttons and insult her was a mystery. What a strange bunch. Well, if she was going to be sticking around in this tower, she was not going to be putting up with being looked down upon as though she had once lived on the bottom of a shoe. No, Rory decided as she finished her tea and headed for the door, that she most certainly would not do.

 

Lillian & Rory

I'm the cool one!

[badriyah]

Badriyah stood staring at the door dumbfounded after the light-cursed Accepted left with her scowling roommate. That was sudden! She had given absolutely no indication of whether or not she believed the young brunette’s little act. How frustrating!! Light torment her as she torments me! she prayed silently, with gritted teeth; and for the next few moments let her imagination run wild.

 

It was quite awhile before Badriyah managed to decide whether or not she would comply and clean up. She went over the image of herself weeping and begging forgiveness again and again. Would it do for her not to clean up the glass? What would the Accepted make of her disobedience after her words? It would give the woman more reason not to believe her act. Even if she didn’t fall for it, what’s the worst that can happen? I’ll have a beating, maybe even get a few extra chores to do. I can take any of that. Why should I clean up the flaming gl- and then the psychopath realized that it would be to her own benefit were she to take care of the shards on the floor, because she could save them and make use of them when her cravings grew strong. Maybe even use them on her roommate. Light! Brilliance!

 

Dropping to her knees, she began to gather the little potential weapons in her hands slowly so as to enjoy the blood from the little cuts that appeared on her hands and stained the broken pieces of window beautifully. She made sure to put all the larger bits under her bed, and the tiny ones she managed to see she collected and threw out. Badriyah then settled down on the edge of her bed and stared at her hands, wiping the blood all over them. Maybe when her superior returned she would feel sorry for the girl with bleeding hands. Even better!

 

As time passed Badriyah began to wonder where the Accepted had taken the theif she was being forced to share her room with. The only thing she could think of was that she was being punished, which was absolutely fine with Badriyah. There was plenty of reason to punish her afterall, she wanted to run away, she stole from people, she used bad language, she spoke back to Accepted...

 

The young woman lifted her tearstained face as the door of her chamber swung open.

 

 

Badriyah

[Wayfarer]

Entering the room, there were a couple of things that made Lillian very aware of the fact that there was something wrong.  Firstly, she could not see the glass gathered as she instructed, something that she had specifically instructed the Novice to do.  Secondly, the Novice's hands were covered in blood, and there was no evidence of a brush or pan, something else the Novice had been instructed to collect.  Yet she managed to maintain her serene composure as she looked to Rory.  "It has just occured to me that new sheets will be required.  If you would go see some of the staff in the Tower, they will be able to direct you to where new sheets may be procured.  If anyone asks, you may inform them that Accepted Lillian Tremina charged you with the task."

 

There was only a moment of hesitation from Rory before she left, clearly Lillian had managed to make a great enough impact that she was willing to do as she was told.  That left the other Novice, who had likewise been disobedient.  Shutting the door, Lillian surveyed the room slowly as she spoke.  "What is your name?  And why have you not followed the instructions given?  I believe I was quite clear when I instructed you to use a brush and pan to collect up all the glass.  And where is the glass?"

 

Badriyah grew mildly anxious as the Accepted scanned the room, suspicion registering on her face.  Was there also disbelief in her expression? She had done nothing worthy of this, certainly, but perhaps the powers of Aes Sedai reached beyond the young novice’s expectations. Is it possible that Aes Sedai can read thoughts? she wondered, trying her best to clear her mind for fear that her superior could detect her sudden unease. She tried her best to mimic an Aes Sedai’s blank look as she glanced over at the Accepted, who had just ordered her roommate to go fetch new sheets for her bed. The other girl seemed to Badriyah somewhat reluctant, but obeyed in the end.

 

The woman with banded skirts closed the door and turned, focusing her attention on the only remaining novice and asking what her name was, why she hadn’t followed the instructions she was given, and where she had stashed the glass.  The brown-haired girl replied, “I am Badriyah. I – I wasn’t paying attention properly, I’m sorry!” she tried to appear openly fearful of the other’s wrath, “I’m not sure where I put the glass, umm, umm...” she dropped onto her hands and knees and pretended to look underneath the few pieces of furniture in the room, as though she had been so distracted that she had forgotten, before coming to her own bed. She pointed into the gloom and said, without looking up, “I must have just pushed it under the bed, Accepted. I’m sorry; I’ll clean the mess up later.” Badriyah turned to the other without rising and looked up at her sadly, to give her the impression that she was groveling

 

Something was most certainly wrong, and now that Lillian was sure of it she most certainly was not going to simply let it slide.  Not considering the display she had first walked in upon that had involved glass.  "Let me be blunt, Badriyah, I have known a number of children to be convincing liars but you are not amongst them.  I will give you this one chance to come clean, if you do not then I will take you before the Mistress of Novices and inform her that you attempted to harm your roommate as well as disobeyed instruction.  Either speak true now, or have the truth ripped from you."

 

Badriyah managed to keep her jaw from dropping. The woman was far shrewder than she had expected. She cannot possibly understand me. My problem. But it was extremely disconcerting that she could see through the psychopath’s act. It even ate away at her confidence, as she had always thought herself a great liar. It wasn’t often that she didn’t feel like she knew what to do, and now Badriyah felt extremely hesitant. Disconcerting indeed.

 

The Lugarder weighed her options carefully, she could either admit to having tried to harm her roommate, which might eventually require her to admit to her weakness, or she would be beaten, and possibly made to admit.  She didn’t mind letting the other know that she had had murderous intentions towards her roommate, but she didn’t want to be tricked into telling about her blood cravings. Badriyah hung her head, “Forgive me Accepted. I only meant to cut her a little so that she would behave.”

 

Considering the answer that was offered, Lillian took a moment to roll the answer about in her mind.  To cut a little, the way she had been wielding those shards of glass made Lillian think otherwise but there was a greater question to be asked.  One which would perhaps help explain the cause of the action taken by Badriyah.  "You are a new Novice, are you not?  Tell me, where did you learn to cut others?"

 

Badriyah couldn’t help but feel like a hunted animal. This Accepted could tell too much about her. She was trying very hard to play the innocent, confused child and the woman seemed to have her heart set on believing precisely the opposite of her, which was how she was in reality. It was almost too much to bear. Badriyah licked her lips, gaze settling to the floor, fearing her eyes would reveal to fearing her eyes would reveal too much. “Yes, I am a new novice. I only arrived today.”

 

She was now treading on dangerous ground and she knew it. What would they do to her if they found out? What was the worst they could do? Kill her? And by now did she really fear death?  Certainly not. It was complication in her life that she wished to avoid at this point, however, and if they conceivably decided not to kill her after they found out her life would be made extremely difficult, to say the least. She wanted to be accepted as the person she pretended to be and would be satisfied with nothing else.  Badriyah wasn’t about to blow her cover now. She realized, though, that from now on she would have to be extremely stealthy when it came to cutting.

 

“My father...used to cut me when he was angry. By the Light, I only know what I saw him do. Look,” she pulled up the length of her skirt to reveal a series of reddish scars that ran up the back of her left leg.  She had actually gained those scars while in a fight, as her father had never allowed himself to cut her that deep, even in all his frustration and fury, and she had learned how to cut herself so that she left no scars on her skin; but she needed the Accepted’s sympathy.

 

As far as her suspicions went, Lillian's were not dispelled in anyway.  The way Badriyah averted her eyes reminded her of when she had been a Novice, too controlled and well timed for her liking, especially when she knew that Badriyah was given to lying.  Yet it was something that sounded plausible, even though it left some things unanswered, like why she had adopted a similar bent.  "Absolute last chance to come clean.  Your story doesn't explain why you would do the same, or why your hands are cut from glass.  I told you specifically to use a brush and pan, you chose to use your hands and endanger yourself to cuts from the glass."

 

“I was angry! I’ve had such a hard time trying to escape from my father and I have finally managed to. I just needed a way to release all my hatred and frustration! Everything I’ve put up with has built up on me over time. I just lost my temper, that’s why I did the same, I wanted to let it out! Even if,” she sighed as though resigned, “Even if it meant injuring myself.”  Badriyah realized she had been shouting and lowered her voice. She thought it over and decided that to be apologetic would be the best way to take this now. She couldn’t see anything wrong with her pretend rationalization and prayed the Accepted would detect no flaw in it.

 

“I know it was wrong and I am s-sorry.  I won’t do it again, I promise. I understand that novices are given many activities to do at the Tower. I’ll get over my loathing of my father soon enough, I’m sure. It’ll dissipate as I work, I think. Please don’t worry about me. Or about that girl. I won’t harm either of us, I assure you. It isn’t like this is something that has happened in the past, this is the first time it’s happened and it won’t occur again.”

 

It was time to divert the woman’s attention from this topic, “Accepted? You wouldn’t happen to know what my sweet roommate’s name is, would you? And is there anything about her I should know so that I can feel compassionate towards her and show her my sympathy? She seems...troubled"

 

"Liar."  Holding up her hands infront of her, Lillian began to rub her hands together.  "You see this, Badriyah?  This is me washing my hands of you because you didn't take the opportunity to come clean.  If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is someone who continues to lie long after they have been caught out.  I will take you to the Mistress of Novices and fully inform her of this situation, as well as every word of this conversation and how I know you lied, though she will be able to see it for herself.  She will not be nearly as understanding."

[badriyah]

Badriyah could hardly believe the woman didn’t believe her! She had spoken as convincingly as she could, but again and again the Accepted saw through it. A trick I must learn, she thought gloomily. It was probably true, what the other said about the Mistress of Novices not being as understanding as she would be. And it would probably be better that fewer people knew about. Being taken to the Mistress of Novices would make the whole thing as good as news within the novice quarters, she suspected. But, how do I know she isn’t going to take me anyway? Badriyah frowned slightly; that was a risk she was just going to have to take. In any case this Accepted would find out, one way or another.

 

The young psychopath sighed sincerely as she felt her fatigue at her long trip and exciting day beginning to return. She really wasn’t up to being beaten tonight; she would need to be alert and pulled together in the next few days as her life at the White Tower began. Badriyah tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and she met the other woman’s steady gaze with resignation, “Alright. The show’s over. What happened was the girl approached me with the intentions of stealing my bedsheets. I had told her she couldn’t have them and I did not want her to take them. They are mine,” she said that last as though it were the simplest logic, and then, “That’s how the fight began. As I said, I had intended to hurt her with the glass, perhaps even kill her. I saved it because I supposed that I might have cause to make use of it later on, if she tries to irritate me again.” It was the truth, missing some details that the novice thought were better left concealed, but that was basically how it was.

 

The white-clad girl almost wished she could bring herself to say sorry and mean it. She tried hard to bring up any feelings of guilt or regret she could but found none. If she were to face the same situation again she would behave the same way. Badriyah sat uncaring in the silence, adding after a moment, “I’m not going to apologize since you don’t want me to lie any more,” the psychopath yawned disrespectfully as she continued, “I would that you didn’t tell the Mistress of Novices about this. Believe me, a beating will just enrage me, it won’t make me any sorrier or less dangerous. I’m accustomed to pain.”

 

“Now, names if you please. Yours and the girl’s.”

 

 

Badriyah

"Mwahahaha!!!"

[Wayfarer]

That was what Lillian had been looking for, the cold underbelly to Badriyah that Lillian had detected.  The eyes, the practiced actions, overdoing it, lying poorly and not knowing how to cut her losses, these things and more were what had betrayed the Novice to her.  She hadn't been quite so wise in her younger years when she'd seen people like Badriyah, but she knew how to spot them and after so long she was much better prepared to deal with the likes of these.  She certainly had nothing to fear of the girl for now, there was too much risk for Badriyah to risk a foolish act.

 

Lillian was strongly tempted to take the girl before the Mistress of Novices.  It wasn't an issue of impudence or lying, it was that Badriyah was a very real threat to not only Rory, but everyone else around her.  She didn't have the same emotional range and sense of community that would give her pause before satisfying her needs.  That would only last as long as her desires were outweighed by the more basic need.  Cold and calculating, it was that element that also gave people like Badriyah a certain level of predictability, something that could be used.

 

"I am Lillian, your roommate's name is Rory."  Frowning, Lillian thought about where to take her line of questioning next.  If she were used to pain and beatings, perhaps that was the first step to discovering why she was so quick to violence.  "Tell me, who taught you to be so accustomed to pain?  Who taught you that violence was so easy?  Why did they teach you?  You're too detached for it to be something you just picked up here or there.  Maybe it was your father?"

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Accepted of the White Tower

[badriyah]

Badriyah did not like the way the Accepted looked at her. As though she understood more than she let on, something the novice found unnerving. Lillian could not be trusted with everything – no one could – and Badriyah was not about to make this woman’s day by telling it all. She had spoken enough already. The brown-haired girl found herself wondering when her roommate would return, though she managed not to glance at the door anxiously as she was grilled by the company.

 

“My father tortured me. He tortured many people in Lugard, though I was probably the only one he did not care to kill.” I might’ve been better off dead, she thought as she paused before continuing, “My father didn’t really teach me, so much as I was forced to observe...upon occasion.” It wasn’t really true but it sounded alright to her. She had been taught, though she prayed no one would figure it out, especially not this Lillian. A person would really have to see my work...and how nice it’d be to show certain people... And it was with great effort that the psychopath forced herself to stay focused on the conversation, tearing her mind away from her sadistic visions.

 

 

Badriyah

[Wayfarer]

Unreadable, Lillian's face didn't shift one iota as she considered the words that Badriyah had spoken.  She didn't like what she was hearing, not only did it seem like the girl had been raised by some evil bastard that had sought to try and mould her until she would become like him, there was still something that didn't ring right.  She'd been too eager, far too eager, Lillian had witnessed that when she had first walked into the room and upon reflection she saw something else in Badriyah.  Or perhaps she was merely seeing what she wanted to see after having been lied to repeatedly, it made her no less suspicious to hear the girl come clean, because she wasn't entirely sure if the girl had.

 

But there still remained the question of what to do with her.  She was dangerous, but hers was a predictable form of danger, all that was needed was the right leverage to keep her in line and Lillian was fairly sure she had ascertained what that was.  "Did you know, criminals in Tar Valon when they are caught are bound against the very act they committed?  Thieves are left unable to bear the thought of helping themself to a coin that isn't their own, rapists are left physically ill whenever the desire to violate someone strikes them."

 

"And those who hurt others are left incapable of doing so, not even in their own defence let alone to satisfy a desire to fight."  Lillian was certain that had struck a chord.  "What you were outside of the Tower...  I won't judge that, but you are here now.  If you harm a person while you are here and so long as this Tower is your home, I will not keep what we have learned today to ourselves.  I will see you bound against harming another person and you will be cast out of this Tower forever.  Unable to learn of the power, unable to harm."

 

"You will have this second chance, something you otherwise would not have received from others.  The world you came from, the life you led, it has no place here Badriyah.  With time, I think you will learn this but for now I am giving you this choice.  Either volunteer to discipline yourself, or choose to be bound."

 

"I do not need to hear your answer, your actions from this point will speak well enough."  Turning towards the window, Lillian frowned.  "Now go and collect the glass, all of it, and be sure that I will know full well if you have hidden any."

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Accepted of the White Tower