Jump to content



Advanced Saidar (Attn: Saline)

Jagen Sedai

Recommended Posts

Jagen pushed back her long red braids over her shoulder as she looked down at the paper in front of her. She had a list of weaves she was going to be teaching Saline, an Accepted who had been assigned to her to learn weaves from. Jagen had offered herself up to the Mistress of Novices to help Accepted--and maybe later, novices--to learn more of saidar's wonders.


Jagen decided to look around her sitting room and make sure nothing was out of place. Newly raised, she had little to add to the room, and she still hadn't gone into Tar Valon to have new dresses made beyond those given to her by the Red Ajah. But she had all the time in the world, she supposed. With the Tower in the condition it was in she had no plans to be leaving anytime soon. She did want to be helpful though and that was why she volunteered to help teach. Accepted and novices alike needed to be learning what they had to quickly. And from what she heard of the Black Tower and their speed of training...

No, I don't want to think about that. How absurd though. She sighed and sat down, channeling enough to warm the sweetened tea on the table. She took a sip, thinking she would start with the two most important weaves on her list--linking and shielding. Then warding and minor healing. She didn't like to think of why she chose those weaves, but neither would she avoid the problem at hand. Defense was important and had to be learned first.


Embracing more of the Power, Jagen channeled Air and Spirit in a thin but complex weave. Only about a third of the sisters in the Tower could manage to use Distant Eye, but Jagen already had the skill, not to mention the strength. She was also one of the more powerful Sisters in the Tower, though not by too much, she still had a sense of satisfaction from it. She felt she deserved it, and she'd use her power and skill to teach others. There were battles to be won.


The weave went through the lock on her door, and she could see as if looking on the end of it. She saw the Accepted coming down the hall. She let the weave disappear and let go of the Power, sighing softly, the veil over her face fluttering. Saline was not someone she knew very well, and she supposed that all the better to teach.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Harassed with mixed feelings, the Taraboner could sense somebody channeling as she navigated the labyrinth of the Red Quarters. Much of this maze she had learned to know, what with her interactions with various women in the Ajah. Some of whom whispered soft encouragement to allay the anxiety, certain behind their smiling visage that she should perform well before her Testing, and others only validated her dread of being iced forever as an outcast of the Reds. The latter dragged her raggedly through the lessons, exploiting every weakness in an ever growing queue. None, however, measured up to the trepidation this red-shawled woman stirred in her; its intensity rendered her quite breathless as she stared through her lashes at Jagen Sedai’s veil.


It mesmerized her. Despite the folds of the veil shimmering thick as smoke, its gauze would be light to the touch. She knew, for she had worn many a veil before her exile, and seen many such more at Court, though none so fine. A curtsey -- frigid with respect – belied her inward trembling. As she rose, she saw how above the veil such intricate plaiting must have taken the good part of an hour, and was hard put not to stumble as she admired. Though the Taraboner approved thoroughly of beads that spiraled along the length of Jagen Sedai’s braids, she became self-conscious of her curls, so drab and undecorated they seemed blatant. In the morning she had taken the silver bells off to better remain inconspicuous, but now stood regretting the act. The white Accepted dress had colour, it was true, but the hem did nothing for her pallour, and she appeared washed out in comparison with this crimson woman!


The Red teaching her had garbed herself according to her own customs, not the Tower’s. From the braids on top, to the slippers that graced her feet, the observer noted the strangeness. It was a look although strange here, so familiar back in Elmora, and mostly, a look which showed Saline everything she renounced.


Staring filled her terribly with longing, and she must conquer her feelings. Breathing deeply she pushed her thoughts away, and focused on what she would not renounce. This life was worth the slippers, veil, beads in braids… the past. Still, one must not forget her roots, and she retained that lilted accent with the pride of her nationality. Foolish, perhaps, but it soothed the aching in her heart.


Furthermore, there was the Red, that which she would not leave. It was why she stepped in as Accepted. Looking at the Aes Sedai again, she felt different. This time, her gaze became more confident, strengthened by the resolution that she would fight for her own place in this wing.


Until then she would wait, and do so with dignity, in obedience. Head raised, body poised; she braced herself to confront what awaited her when the veil that enchanted her fluttered. And Jagen Sedai spoke.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Jagen wore the tiniest of smiles on her lips as she observed the Accepted in front of her. She seemed a bit nervous about something and Jagen was sure she had been newly raised to ranks of Accepted, since she really didn't recall the girl that much. But, she had little time for musing and decided to get right to business.


"Go ahead and sit, Saline," she said. When the Accepted did she took a sip of her tea and set it down again carefully, her movements deliberate and precise as if constantly practiced. For Jagen, nothing was without a purpose and she strove to be graceful and perfect in everything she did.


"Saline, you know the Tower is facing hard troubles. The Amyrlin was recently murdered. Our own Keeper stilled. We've fallen on hard times. It is no secret. This is why you must be very studious in your lessons more so than ever. And it's why I'm going to be teaching you some very important weaves first. I will show you as many times as needed, but please try to be quick and observant. It's for your own good that you learn as quick as possible. And once you learn how to make this weave I advise practicing it often. That will go for anything I teach you. Are you ready?"


Jagen opened herself to the One Power and took in only enough saidar to channel her weave. "I'm going to teach her shielding first. Watch carefully. Try to embrace the Power."


Jagen began to weave Spirit as soon as she finished speaking. It was not a hard weave at all for her, of course, and she was sure the Accepted could do it fairly quickly. Knowing she was trying to embrace the Power Jagen put her shield in place not as fast as she actually could, but fast enough that she effectively blocked her--yet slow enough she expected the Accepted saw what she did. The Red felt her pressing against the shield. "Would you like another demonstration?" She let the weave and saidar out of her grasp.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

In her decade and a half (paltry compared to some but for her a considerable amount of years) since she signed her name into the Novice book and joined the ranks of the initiates, Saline had been cut off from the Source but once. Once, however, was once too many, and the memory of her threads lashing into her was unbearably shameful.


On the other hand, numerous were the times she’d stuff up her weaves one way or another: mixing up strands; letting her threads gnarl; fumbling the knots. Oh, yes, the failures were many, for she took to the weaves slowly, preferring to learn the methods behind each new pattern before attempting to recreate it herself. Yet, once learned, she was unlikely to mess up the weaves again, nor forget how she had arrived at it. It was no memorisation, unless memorisation of the muscles counted, and, thus by rote she had mastered control through practice.


A pungent scent emanated from the teacup, and she inclined her head, having attended to Jagen Sedai, and knowing a little of the hard times the Aes Sedai told her about. Perine Sedai had gone on a Mission and never returned, though those who went with her disclosed to her students of what they feared most: death of the Red Sister. It was a personal blow for Saline, who liked her Mentor, and had imagined herself safe from the world. Even Aes Sedai had troubles; more and more she was beginning to realise how human, and vulnerable the Sisters were, though the disillusion, she was not prepared to think about at the moment.


The sight of a glow startled her, and she tried not to panic as déjà vu washed over her. How she had strained for Saidar when Estel Sedai shielded her, her struggles to no avail! Tentatively she probed her shield, getting an idea of its shape. Her touches were gentle, and she had accustomed herself to the weave, and her deprivation of Power. It was one thing to know you should not use Saidar, and quite another knowing you could not. Now she knew why Nerome was so desperate to learn how he could defend himself, and she thought wistfully of the scimitar hanging in her room.


Suddenly she sagged heavily against the tall back of her chair as she reached for the One Power. It roared in her ear, filling her as she became more aware of the upward curl of Jagen’s lips, and the taste of gillyflower in her own mouth.


Not wanting another demonstration, she contrived to take the shaking out of her voice as she murmured: “May I?”


Now Saline was stronger in Fire than the other elements, especially Earth, her weakness; she could manage Spirit with little difficulty, not as easy as Fire, mind, but it required no Earth thank the Light. As fast as she could she drew out silver wisps, coaxing them into the pattern Jagen Sedai wove, without the other’s finesse or the nimble fingers. Hers fumbled, but caught the strand and after that the student forced herself to go slower.


Venturing a smile at the Aes Sedai (did that curl of the lips indicate her amusement, or were they naturally shaped so), she turned her attention back to the webbing and wondered if she could in fact shield the Aes Sedai. Even if Saline was stronger, Jagen had more experience. However, not holding the Power invited Saline to slam her shield onto the Aes Sedai, and she waited to see if it would work.


Perhaps one day she use this weave to Shield another channeller; no, no that day would be inevitable since she aspired to be Red, and Reds specialise in that sort of weave. For the first time, it occurred to her that the Shielding weave for the male Aes Sedai might have been the same design. After all, it was pure Spirit, and both genders were adequately endowed with the ability.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Jagen gave a satisfied nod once the weave was in place, though she did take note of Saline's fumbling when she first began. The Red wondered if it was nervousness or something else, but she was pleased when the Accepted took it a bit slower after her tiny mistake.


Then Jagen went to embrace the Power, only a bit at first, probing the shield, but then suddenly she broke through, Saline's weave splintering and snapping back. Then she sipped her honeyed tea as if nothing happened, though getting a weave broken through was always something unpleasant.

"That was good," she said, "but of course, you cannot hold me from the Power." She gave Saline a smile. Or maybe more of a knowing, amused smirk. "Do so again. Slowly if you wish. But I want you to do it five more times after. Each time I want you to try to weave quicker. I will not break your weave this time. Place the shield, I will test it, and then let go of the weave and do it again. Then we will take a small break."


Jagen hoped the woman impressed her. She would be of quite a moderate strength in the Power when she reached her full potential and Jagen wanted to be the one to bring it out in her. Now that she was a full sister, she hoped to meet with the new Amyrlin and discuss training Accepted faster and harder. Accepted had classes and lessons more lenient than novices, but the Red began to think that they shouldn't have it any easier than the novices. Jagen had purposely pressed herself to her limits and took little time to herself and she was proud of where she stood now. She wanted the same of the Accepted when they became Aes Sedai. And as she looked at Saline she nodded slightly, thoughtfully. She would make her stronger in mind, spirit and will power.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

She wished she would not perspire: the Aes Sedai never seemed to. There had to be a trick to it, but she did not find out as she maintained the shield, wary of the Aes Sedai. The Red did not so much fight as to coil herself, as if to strike. Saline flinched, and was about to release the Source when her eyes popped:


"What the ...?"


Pain registered as she bit back the profanity at what ensued. Feeling as though somebody had hit her head with a sledgehammer, she twitched nervously at Jagen Sedai. Could it be possible to break out of the shield? Yeah, her body supposed it was indeed achievable. She had not ached this badly since she rode with Tower Guard Lyssa on her wilderness training.


Relentless, Jagen Sedai asked Saline to perform the same weave once more. Then again. And so the Accepted did, although it was a little harder to square her shoulders, lifting them from fatigue as she tapped into the Power each time. Of course, they both knew that the Aes Sedai held the upper hand in this exchange, but that did not stop Saline from forcing herself to maneuver the Spirit threads with a little more ease. This realisation boosted her confidence, and she twisted faster, melding the strands as she laid them on the Red.


She was disappointed by the last weave, however. The final one collapsed, and she felt like bawling, as she had when she got lost in the woods, trying to search for Lyssa. Concentrate, it’s not a question concerning ability. As if bidden, the woman who trained her in weaponry strayed into her mind, and assuaged her impulse to cry.


The Red Sister concluded their session with a curt nod, before moving them on after a brief breather. Mopping up the sweat on her brow with her handkerchief, Saline definitely wanted a reprieve; she was sure she would have to practice more before the lesson was through. A part of her dreaded the next weave; another part wondered if she was ready as her teachers said she should be. Light forbid anybody had slipped through the system, untested.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

"You did fairly well," she said, "But your last weave collapsed, that is not good. I suppose, however, it is expected for your first time. You did well."


Jagen then motioned to the pot of tea over on the small table by the wall, on a tray with an unused cup. "Go make yourself a drink, you look like you could use a bit."


Saline stood and did as she suggested. Jagen watched her every move. She figured it would be best to press her at a moderate pace. Faster than she was used to training at but not so fast she couldn't keep up. She also thought offering a drink would be seen as a gesture that proved she wasn't trying to be cruel. She only wanted to help.


She spoke once Saline had taken her seat again. "Linking is what we are going to work on next. First, I am going to teach you to link to another person by submitting to their control. Then you will learn how to embrace the One Power through another. However, this is only done willingly. No one can ever make you embrace the Source in this manner and you cannot make others do so. Now I want you to set yourself on the verge of embracing saidar. I will embrace it through you, so I can handle your power and mine. Linking allows you to work with more of the Source than you'd normally be able to. Don't get me wrong, it does not not allow to double your strength. But it does help to handle more." She felt out what Saline was doing and before the Accepted knew it the One Power filled her, but it was Jagen who controlled any weaving.


"Now I want you to try." She let go of the Power, but then put herself on the verge of embracing it. "It might take a few tries, unless you have done this before."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A hawklike teacher watched her for errors, but Saline wanted to grin. If there was one thing she could pride herself on, it was what she had learned from her roommate Rosetta, a Yellow aspirant well versed in the tea-lore, and gained an inordinate amount of confidence in the various infusions she was able to brew. She set out two porcelain cups, sprinkling some additional spices she procured from her pouch before adding in the water, cooled from the kettle. She drew and wrapped a single thread of Fire around each cup, not bothering to hide her grin as steam rose. She released the Source, and gesturing at her own tea, she served Jagen Sedai.


That fortifying cup of tea was just what she needed to get back on her feet. But nothing prepared her for the next weave. She affected nothing had happened, when resentment struck her hard. It seemed as if everything conspired to put her back to the awful day that she lost control, and Saline resented the reminders…


The situation demanded her co-operation, and now, committed, she was unable to back out until they were all released. On the brink of channeling, she had opened herself up, teetering over the cusp whose control was in Lillian’s hand. Telltale signs with the Power heightened her awareness of the humidity; realization of the moist dress she had molding to her form pigmented her cheeks. The upturn twitch of Rossa’s lips, her sparkling eyes told Saline where the amusement suffusing her system originated. The other kept her reserve, which gave Saline a reason to compose herself, though she was sure they felt her embarrassment. When Lillian first took charge of the flow, a gale she could not see but felt struck at her, almost causing her to lose the hold. Only the practice of physical hassling by Rory had prepared her for the tenacity of the force. She had surrendered to the other, willingly. Turning her eyes at the intricate groupings of Air, Blue and Green, she mopped up perspiring, gently clenching hands, taking no note of the stains that remained on Lillian's papers…


… though she knew that the Aes Sedai was being helpful. Pushing the memory away she braced herself, and practiced the Novice exercise of tapping into a river. Eddies swirled into whirlpools, and she hesitated, wanting to step back. She had felt the same wind when Jagen Sedai took control of the flows from her, and knew that once she took the Sister’s offer, she would committed unless Saline released her. The Accepted was terrified by the prospect of handling so much power. It was too much, and she would lose control.


OOC: Posted as I read that you want me to take control. Otherwise I will edit.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Jagen let a satisfied smile cross her lips. She gave a satisfied nod. "Do you think you're ready for more? You're going about this quickly. That's good. I'm going to teach you more today. At least two more weaves. Watch carefully."


Still holding onto the Power through both of them Jagen made a weave of pure Spirit and, stretching out her hand for physical guidance, let it rest upon the innate structure of a chair. "When done on a person this weave will allow you know what ails them. It is Delving." She demonstrated the weave again, then let go of the Power. But only to embrace it again by herself. "It's important to Delve first, and then you can attempt Healing. This weave and Delving are also very important. I want you to practice these often." And without farther ado she wove a minor healing of Spirit, Air and Water, also settling the weave on the chair, for it to dissipate into uselessness.


Again, Jagen demonstrated Delving. Then she demonstrated Healing. "Alright, now you try those." She wanted to see how fast Saline could pick up two weaves at once and was prepared to count how many times she might had to show her again. On one hand Jagen had patience. And on the other she meant to press the girl as much as she needed to. She sat down and sipped her tea. It was a welcome and refreshing taste. I must teach her more often.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Excerpt from Saline Wastrel’s journal

“Every time I begin a weave I have to understand the principle behind it or else I have no idea where to even begin. When I try the weave is more often than not likely to collapse if the strength I applied does not suffice or come out with a less desirable result if my control is lacking. I have to develop more skill because sometimes I get inventive and then distracted when there are many threads I should weave. At first I imagined a needle leading individual threads but now I can tack onto familiar patterns that are altered to the purpose I have in mind to reach for. I might have the potential to develop more strength with Earth, though I would not say so I certainly hope to be more proficient than I am currently, since Earth seems to be my weakest element. A higher percentage of weaves involving Brown threads fail when I do not have enough strength, though I have found it to be a lesser percentage if I increase the thickness of my threads incrementally and at a steady gradual flow, rather than trying to suddenly switch on a faucet from drops. As for Fire weaves, it is the other extreme. I have the strength, or maybe I just have a knack, but it is my skill, at controlling the Red threads, that is in dire want of improvement. I can safely say that once I manage a weave correctly for a first time, it is unlikely that I mess up on it again on the following practices unless I am really unfocused on my tasks or fatigued by them. I had trouble at the beginning with how to incorporate Spirit into any weave, except after dabbling a bit after seeing the knack how to spread the Spirit Ward, it is almost certainly better for me to set my Silver threads as a foundation or form or magnitude first before pulling any other elements into my weaves. Take for example, the intricate pattern in Delving and the strength required for Healing…”


How is it that diagnosis and cure could derive from the same weave? Then again, there was no reason why identical weaves may not be multipurpose. She likened the boundaries to Red Sisters finding the false dragons, and Yellows healing them, instead of Reds gentling them. The analogy made an odd sort of sense, though she kept the associations firmly in the privacy of her mind.


It also made sense that Delving came before Healing, otherwise she would be trying to fix a person blindly. Delving was like groping somebody when you’re blind, like Dorian, she assessed. Though the trainee never groped her, he would have to touch a person’s face to “see” her until she spoke. Saline had used Delving and Healing weaves before, on the sly after she learned them from Lillian’s demonstration. It was very rough - although Delving taxed little strength - she had drained Dorian when she healed him, but it was in a moment of emergency, so finesse, technique, experience did not matter as long as her friend survived, which he had.


“Can you heal yourself?” She asked, knowing only how clearing fatigue would erase only on others. The Red Aes Sedai explained, and gestured. Saline asked for one more demonstration, wanting to see how Jagen Sedai formed the weaves and deftly set them into the chair before opening herself to Saidar. Grasping only a portion of what she could hold, the Accepted laid a foundation with a silver net before feeding a bit of blue, then green over that, alternatively before twisting the silver strands.


Though she had no particular skill with Healing, it did not come particularly hard for her in a time of need; the skill could be developed with time. She remember Rosetta once told her that the weave works just as well without the hand actions, but it comforts the patient to have someone touch him and focus on the wound while healing. She had clutched Dorian’s head, while setting the weave on.


Placing the same weave on the chair however, was proving to be more difficult to summon up enough to be able to cover a wound, without touching any part of the patient. Saline was exasperated when her control slipped and the weave collapsed again. Today did not seem like a good day for the Accepted. Nevertheless, Saline tried again and then again.


Each time, she touched the tall back of the chair before setting the weave into it. On the chair, the Silver became progressively easier to spread and distribute into a mass of tri-colours, almost an umbrella above the chair. She was more adept with Spirit, having worked with the strands more and being relatively familiar with the amount she should place on the object, such as a wound. At last, Saline sagged with relief.


She was tired, and very sorry she had been so complacent.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

As her weave faded, Jagen had her eyes on it, watching it disappear uselessly. Her lips, which rarely held a smile, were pursed thoughtfully, her gaze distant.


She was recalling the test she had less than a week before, remembering some of the useless weaves she had been taught, weaves that depended on for her passing even though they did not do anything else. She had not wanted to learn weaves that did nothing but her desire to become Aes Sedai was her motivation.


"How much do you want to be Aes Sedai?" she asked, turning her cool, dark gaze on Saline. Her face was hard in its expression. She wanted to appear that way, anyway. Even her voice had become a bit harder.

"Saline, you must practice your weaves more. You cannot afford to have your weaves be collapsing on you so often. When you take the test to become Aes Sedai you must do exactly one hundred weaves in perfect order and performance. If even one weave collapses you fail. You understand this, yes? It is vital. I think we have had enough for today. You are going to go now and practice the weaves you have been taught. Go and practice them in order and then come back to me tomorrow. When you come back you are to show me all the weaves I taught you today. I want them all performed perfectly. If you do not do this I may not teach you after all."


Then she turned away and picked up her tea. Threatening not to teach if she didn't learn quickly enough was a method of educating Jagen wanted to try. She could--and would--help the girl if she wanted to help her self. She wasn't sure if Saline would recognize this as a test but whether she did or not Jagen wanted her to push herself. However, if she came in the next day with weaves falling apart then perhaps she simply wasn't worth her time. Yet, if Saline gave true effort and Jagen could tell, and she was still having trouble, then she would continue helping her. She didn't want to give up on the girl after all; she just wanted to see if she would pass the first of many barriers ahead.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Not unusual for somebody in my position: plenty of initiates feel frustrated with their progress. But it is often the case with keeping them back. Don’t push me, and I may go in my own time. Yeah, right. We know I never go. I’m afraid of myself here, afraid that I may burn myself out. Yet if I do not reach now, I will never get what I want. Am I obsessed, passionate? It is my desire for the Shawl. Ahh, pure joy. At the same time, it is very humbling...


"Yes, Aes Sedai. Good day."


Dipping a curtsey at Jagen Sedai's back, she felt more faint. She had lessons in the Red Ajah before, so she expected the regimen to be strict. However, Faile Sedai was generous with her praises, and Perine Sedai had always rewarded her with treats when she completed difficult weaves, but this Red Sister clearly measured her students with a different standard of success.


Perhaps it was best that she was dismissed after all. Despite a number of teas, she simply could not concentrate. It was already a tough lesson, but she pushed herself to practice, for she wanted very much to succeed in the class.


"How much do you want from me, Aes Sedai?" This, a whisper, was more prayer than complaint. Fatigued but Jagen Sedai's words kept coming back, and she could not sleep.


Okay; shield, linking, delving, healing. Four weaves did not sound so difficult. Individually she had woven them. It was better than the hundred weaves she would one day have to go through after all. Then why was she so tired?


One hundred weaves in perfect order and performance.


Bad students did not deserve sleep. Saline knew the reasons why she did poorly, of course she did. First, she did not like pressure. She would laze if she could, passing the courses she had little interest in, and doing extremely well in the ones she cared about, mainly out of being more intuitive about them than actually a love for learning.


If even one weave collapses you fail.


Four weaves; a word for each weave.




I will not fail.




I will not fail.




I will not fail.




I will not fail.


The next day she woke up early, pausing only to wipe the drool off her face before going through the gauntlet of weaves, picking the toughest spots to meld first. Linking was difficult, as she had nobody to practice with but hopefully just going through the motions would be enough for her to wing it like she had in class.


I will not fail.


The first weave she tried collapsed. The Shield was pure spirit, one of the easiest. Perhaps it was because of sleep deprivation, and normally she would have continued, but the Accepted threw down her hands, dropping Saidar.


She cried. In the years of her novitiate she learned how to cry quietly so not to disturb her roommates, but now she wished she had mastered control over when she could weep, so to have some semblance of dignity. Feeling extremely disappointed she curtseyed, awaiting her dismissal. Jagen Sedai would not teach her anymore, but where she expected relief she found grief. Assessing this as being unworthy of any expectations, she stood still, washing her slippers with hot tears.


I have failed.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Jagen was looking forward to giving at least a bit of appraisal towards Saline when she did all four of her weaves. But disappointment settled in quickly when, on her first weave, Saline let it collapse. She wasn't sure at first to attribute it to lack of practice or nervousness. But then the Accepted broke down in tears.


All of the Red's sympathy was washed away with them.


The Taraboner rose gracefully and walked over to Saline. "Are you crying, child?" she asked almost sweetly.

"Because if even one of those tears hits my carpet I'll have you scrubbing the whole thing with a toothbrush!" She reached up with her hand and snapped her fingers loudly in front of her face. "Quit bawling like some child and straighten up! I don't even want to know why you're crying and I don't care, but you have one minute to compose yourself and try your weaves again before I send you out of here wailing. Don't you want to be Aes Sedai? At this rate you're going no where! By the Light, you're practically going backwards! Straighten up, I said, because tears are only for the weak."


She turned and sat back down in her chair, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. Why, Light burn her, why did she have to fail that weave? The Tower couldn't afford messes like this! The girl had no composure and she couldn't complete simple weaves! Had she practiced at all? You better show me otherwise, girl, or I will personally break you.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Who had not known the pain of disillusionment? Some said that Aes Sedai faces were just as devoid of emotions as they were of age. Of course, it was all part of the White Tower mystique, of which there were many stories. Just from her interaction with a particular Blue Sister, Saline knew this one for a falsehood, but still wished that the countenance of the Red Aes Sedai who raged before her would not be so... blatant about what she felt toward Saline. She was sure whatever hidden features Jagen Sedai had under her veil had also been painted with her contempt.


She tried not to tremble under the Red Sister’s scathing lecture, though anything living would have quailed under that stare. Instead she looked intently through a veil of tears at her Serpent ring, which she had once asked the question of “what is Daes Daemar?”


After some assessing, she realised that it had been a moment of weakness, and anything she said at this point about having practiced would have been taken as excuses, and rightly so. The only action remaining to her would be to show her obedience. Reaching into her pocket she drew out her handkerchief and scrubbed at her face. She would not want to fine-comb anything out of this carpet. Sure it was ornate, but the texture seemed loose and rather... absorbent.


Opening herself to the Power once more – one more chance!! – she resigned herself to failure. Instead of exerting her will, she surrendered to the flows, not hurrying, as haste would lead to mistakes but no movement was wasted as she performed. For she became a performer, and moved according to the flow of Saidar. Weave after weave after weave after weave she created, then set for it to dissipate as she moved onto the next, then the next.


Finally it was done. Perhaps there would be another outburst on both sides, she did not know as she awaited the Aes Sedai judgment, breathing heavily.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 months later...

Jagen realized was twirling her ring by the time the Accepted finished. She stopped and let a small smile cross her lips as the weaves were completed with perfection. Something seemed to have change in the way Saline was holding herself. Maybe she expected to fail again. "I hope you learned a lesson from this," she said, her voice much more soothing than before. "Time to continue with the lesson. Come with me outside. We cannot be in the Tower for the next few weaves."


Jagen lead her outside to the Accepted's garden, a perfect place to practice. "My favorite weaves are those that have to do with changing the weather, I admit. The first thing I wish you to learn is to make fog. Air Shield will be your easiest weave but lets practice the harder ones first--they are more fun to tackle, don't you think?" She grinned and embraced saidar. "Please watch closely." She began the weave that should not have been to hard for an average Accepted. She put it together slowly so Saline could see exactly what she was doing. Then she let it fall apart as a fog began to form, and then weaved it a second time. "Alright, now you will try. The bigger you make the weave the more fog you will have. Don't make anything too big though; just do what I did."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Despite the gust assaulting her veil ceaselessly, the Sister appeared regal, taller than ever. Squirrels tittered amidst overhead branches, dropping sharp sticks into the clearing at Saline's feet.


Many thoughts clattered through Saline’s mind. She had expected to stumble, but from the suggestive waver that covered Jagen Sedai's sculpted mouth, she was passable. Candlelight and oil-lamps recalled the blooms to her cheeks, mollified at her behaviour. Heedless of her exquisite slippers, Jagen Sedai russled out the gates, and with a hunched Saline in her tow, the two Taraboners shuffled, exposing themselves to the elements.


Seizing the chance for more Aes Sedai learning, Saline vowed to bend her mind to the task. It reminded her of a story on caution, on how the wilder wrapped her village in mists in order to save her people from sea-faring invaders. Afterwards the girl burnt out her abilities and committed suicide when she no longer could touch Saidar. Saline didn't like that there was a void that life alone could not weather, it seemed to her that the majority of the world survived fine without knowledge of elemental threads, but that was something for the Yellows to study. Her mission was to learn the weaves, and control 'em so they would raise her.


Carefully she attended to the Mist weave that was demonstrated, forming a very small knot. It did not look as if it would take much skill, but Saline was mediocre at best, and despite the desire to do well, her actual ability hindered her where her fellow Accepted naturally excelled. The weave seemed counterintuitive that one would make a weave more concentrated for less fog, yet it was the many bits of know-how that made her different from the Red Sister.


The mist was spread in such a fine spray that the Aes Sedai's makeup kept, simultaneously a fine moisturiser between Saline's curls. A glimmer of white startled her, thanks to the wind's playful attempts on the other's veil. Jagen Sedai was grinning, and Saline grinned back every inch as broadly.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Create New...