Obligations

[Wayfarer]

Smiling at a joke made at the table, Lillian was about to say something in turn when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. Turning about, it was Karissa who offered her a small letter, telling her that she had picked it up while she was seeing if there was any mail for herself. Thanking her as the Accepted left, Lillian put the letter on the table and returned to her meal. She received mail from her family once a month, and once every month she would sit in her room, read the letter and then pen a reply.

 

And so she waited until she had finished her meal, and had returned to her room. No one shared the room with her, so she was accustomed to the privacy she had now as she looked over the letter. The family seal was affixed on it, and breaking the seal gently she proceeded to take the letter out and read only to stop. The writing wasn't her mother's, in fact it was one of her relatives, Aviel Tremina. They had met on Lillian's way to the White Tower when she stopped in Arad Doman, Aviel had been sent to her family to learn the merchant's trade in Tarabon and take Lillian's place. That had been nine years ago.

 

 

Cousin

 

Lillian, I am sorry I have not written sooner, and even more sorry that I must put to paper what I must say. Since there is no easy way to do so, I will tell of it simply. Your parents wished to visit you, and transporting a cargo of Sea Folk porcelein to Tar Valon had been an excuse to do so. I came with them, and we travelled overland, making good time. We were roughly a week away from Tar Valon when we were attacked by a band of marauders.

 

Our guards put up a good fight, but if not for the arrival of a troop of Tar Valon's soldiers, we would have been overwhelmed. I'm afraid I must tell you that your father died during the fighting, and your mother shortly after due to her wounds. The troop escorted us to the nearest village, they call it Yarnmar, it is only perhaps five days away.

 

I've organised preparations for the funeral with the local people here who have been kind enough to put us up. By the time this reaches you I'm told, it will be five days until we hold the funeral. I've attempted to delay it as much as possible so that you may be here, but it may only wait so long.

 

Once again, I am sorry for what has happened. Join us at Yarnmar with all haste.

 

 

Aviel Tremina

 

 

Letting the letter drop to the desk, Lillian fought with the urge to simply give in to the grief that left her feeling hollow as she considered how she was going to get to Yarnmar. The letter had arrived to her a day late she was certain, which meant she had to make five days worth of travel in four. There was little chance of getting leave to depart the White Tower in order to attend the funeral, not in time anyway. That left only one option really.

 

She had to leave tonight.

 

How was the question, the White Tower had stood for nearly three thousand years and she was doubtful that she would have been the first one to try to leave without permission. Reining back a new wave of sorrow, Lillian ruthlessly shunted the feeling aside as best she could so as to focus on the task before her, she could grieve at the funeral.

 

Going to her chest, she flung it open and sorted through her clothes methodically. Underneath her never ending novice uniforms, she found some of her original clothes. In particular, she looked for a plain dress that she had used while she had travelled to Tar Valon, and found it still there in good condition. Also there was all her money, novices received pocket money, and she had never really had a need to spend it except on the odd item here and there. Added to that, more importantly, was the money she had brought with her, which was substantial. Substantial enough to get her from where she was to Yarnmar at anyrate.

 

Setting these things on the table, Lillian sat down and looked at them. She would need to determine a way out, and it wasn't going to be an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. Still, she did have one advantage that might give her the headstart she needed if she won free. Her behaviour had never been once call for discipline, and her record was impeccable. Suspicion would hopefully be late in rearing its head.

 

As long as she made it out.....

 

 

Nodding politely towards the guard, Lillian's heels touched the horse's flanks lightly to set it into a rolling canter across the bridge towards Jualdhe. The timing had been perhaps most fortuitous, as she had had little time to give in to her feelings if she wanted to sneak out. The Mess Hall for those who trained at the Yards closed not long after she had worked her way down there. Hurrying after the other cooks as they passed through the western gate, as if one of them, she managed to pass without notice. From there, it had been a matter of procuring a horse in the city, several of the inns in the city sold them for couriers.

 

Posing as a courier she had managed to make it through the outer gates and onto the bridge she cantered onto. While her flirting had simply been by rote as she'd spoken to the city guard at the gate, her cleavage had managed to cover for it and they'd let her pass.

 

Lillian entertained thoughts of what would happen when she was found out, but she pushed them firmly aside. Her family was more important, and she would deal with the consequences when they occured. If she couldn't do this for her parents, then she was not worthy of having been their daughter.

 

Passing by the last few houses in Jualdhe and reaching the road to Maradon, Lillian kicked her horse into a gallop. While night time riding was dangerous, on the main road she would be fine, and she needed to make good time if she was to reach Yarnmar in time. As she kept her eyes on the road, using the moonlight to her advantage, a tear fell.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Novice of the White Tower

 

~*~ Sunset was a symphony of dying light and tranquillity. Washed out hues of vermilion and tangerine tainted with the spreading tendrils of darkness dominated the sky, the signal of night's arrival. The jagged peaks of distant mountains silhouette against the skyline was a breathtaking piece of art, with its swirling, silver mist that rose higher than the eye could see. Below the tower where she stood, forests with its gaily-coloured coats met the eye, ribbons of streams that had branched out from River Erinin now shrouded in a thick & rapidly spreading fog. Autumn was the start of melancholic days, the killer of flowers and the bringer of decay. Early autumn with its orchards laden with fruits and now, the end of the vibrant season had come, where frost descended to destroy anything carelessly laid out, exposed.

 

~*~ Wailing winds rushed through the open window escorted by shadows that lengthened, stretched, crawled into the room. Suddenly feeling foolishly afraid, Halvie backed away from it all. She had elected not to make another venture out into the gardens tonight, shunning the potential encounters of other occupants of the Tower. The night was young but already she was weary of both mind and body and the halls seemed to have an odd penchant of springing unpleasant surprises on her, which consequently would seep away energy she could not spare. No, she knew better than to go out during these moments of weakness.

 

~*~ The few flimsy pieces of parchment on her table ruffled in the wake of a fresh breeze. Halvie spared them a careless glance, crossed the room and slid a heavy, leather-bound book over it. She felt unusually agitated, almost as though she sensed something essential was amiss, something she should check or have completed but had left hanging. Moreover, she was tense with muscles aching to be working, as taut as a stretched cord. Why? She could not answer even that simply question to herself; perhaps she was finally feeling the effects of all the pressure that was building up to a climax. There was a tightening around her eyes as she frowned at the possibility, pacing restlessly in a tight circle. Everywhere she turned, there was a lurking threat; everyone she met a potential assassin or darkfriend; every scenario an event that could turn the tables on her. Decades she had spent preparing for the shawl and now, reprehensibly, Halvie judged herself incompetent in the position. And foolish. Sleep did not come easily that night.

 

~*~ Dawn saw the Green Sister furiously slashing a tattered straw dummy with saidar, many a golden stalks sticking haphazardly upon her as she whirled around to attack yet another motionless form. Too much pent-up energy would drive her mad if she did not channel it somewhere else; no one could judiciously fault injuries taken in a practice yard so at least it was one less concern to agonize needlessly over while she worked. Halvie had oft viewed the place akin to a minuscule battleground. Alone, she would fabricate abstract opponents with swinging maces, the sting of a hammered blow received and the cherry red blood that gushed out like a warm fountain, past glazed eyes down to the throat, arms, legs and ground. This was bliss, through her peculiar perspective. From the first time she had stepped into the field she had harboured the secret hope that someone would indeed manage to startle her here when the One Power coursed through her veins, creeping from behind like a menacing shadow and when she was alert to its presence, she would turn on the defensive, still holding saidar, and... Halvie refused to contemplate beyond that.

 

~*~ She lasted for a long time during practice, before Tower business barged roughly back into her life. Hurriedly slipping into an extra set of dark apparel reflective of the atmosphere with a lighten heart; Halvie swiftly neatened her features before setting off, abandoning the place where she had left chaos behind. She anticipated yet another monotonous routine of subtle manoeuvring and cultivating of personal contacts beyond the solid walls of the White Tower - exhausting work, but such was life. Incredibly, white & dainty cloudlets drifted high in the hazy afternoon, a disconsolate bird chirping weak notes. Gloomy, disruptive thoughts; she shoved it all aside for later mediation. Time was on her side.

 

~*~ An Accepted dashing through the halls towards her was her first warning, the letter in her hand & the mildly vexed look her second. She paused, waiting and when paper exchanged hands, a sharp, wintry look sent the child off. Halvie wasn't in a particularly loquacious mood with her mouth set in a stern, straight line; her entire posture bespoke it. Perusing the cursive writing as it was, she felt a coil of fear twist in her stomach, the startling autumn cold suddenly touching her. No, it could not be. She isn't the type; she wouldn't do this to me... She would, Halvie decided grimly. Pale delicate fingers crumpled the dry sheet into a tight ball, flattened it until it could go no smaller before she opened her right palm. A small blaze turned the inky words into ashes.

 

~*~ Striding purposely through the tower, Halvie set to questioning the novices and few accepted that lined her path. Some reluctant to speak she cornered, lifting an eyebrow sardonically to express incredulity at their brazen actions, with eyes narrowing slightly to signify her impatience. Simple little things that soon loosened their tongues; such was one of the rewards of being amongst the ranks of legendary figures, even if she had yet to make her mark in the world. One glimpse at the scintillating serpent ring and ageless face sufficient to having those spineless children cower. She no longer gloated over her power; other significant things demanded her attention.

 

~*~ Lillian had appeared for dinner, was later seen in the company of novice friends but had disappeared soon after for bed - nothing out of ordinary. A little further investigation and the mention of a letter came up. A disquietingly silence spread out in the room as Halvie stared at the novice, ashen & visibly shaking. "Does the news displease you, Aes Sedai?" The hoarse, hesitant voice came, breaking into her musings, shattering her thoughts. This almost brought pity from her, she had not intended to traumatise the girl. Golden light shafted through a window, lighting up floating motes of dust, drawing notice to the grubby state of the place. She followed the light's passage thoughtfully, out beyond the confining walls, where freedom beckoned. "Clean the room, it needs a dusting. " It was her veiled form of thanks. She left the room without a backward glance.

 

~*~ Anger was now restrained with a practice hand, irascibility channelled to preparing hastily whatever items would be needed. Never had she entertained the likelihood of her own charge being a runaway, it had always seemed a thing that occurred to incompetent folks other than herself. Frustration. Unavoidable shame. She was going to kill the little tearaway when she got her hands on her, wring the bloody neck and wallop her until some form of common sense trickled back. The rumour mill would have a field day regarding this obvious failure on her part; Halvie threw a sturdy saddle over a complacent bay mare before mounting it. She kicked its flanks harder than was required, resulting with the horse jerking and pulling away. Annoyed, Halvie gave a sharp jerk to regain her control over the animal all the while processing the information she had collected. She had in mind a rough direction of where Lillian had taken off to and the sound of the head start the novice had over her was hardly amusing. Resentment. Ire.

Lillian Tremina was courting the devils as far as Halvie was concerned.

 

Halvie Sedai

Sister of the Green Ajah

 

"Is that the best you can offer me?"

 

"I don't know, what else can you offer me?"

 

The slight smile on the man's face turned Lillian's stomach. Another time, perhaps, she might've entertained the offer, he wasn't that bad looking. On the road to her parent's funeral, it was far from appropriate or appealing. Frowning at the man, Lillian put the pouch back at her side. "Obviously I was told a lie when I was told that I could get a good price here. This horse is good stock, you know this. If you think I'll trade her for so mean a price, you are sorely mistaken. I will take my money elsewhere."

 

The slight smile from the man's face was gone. "Fine, your price then. You saddle your own horse though." Petty, ever so petty but Lillian didn't care. Taking the coins she needed and giving them to the man, she led the horse as the man showed her to the stables. Putting the horse in the stall, Lillian took the saddlebags and the saddle itself off, the reins coming last. As the man saw his new horse was secure, he turned and left.

 

Saddling the new mare she had bought, Lillian was soon ready to go. The mare was a little unsteady at first with the new rider, but a few reassuring rubs and soothing words into the mare's ear had her ready to go. Cantering out of the stable, Lillian soon pushed the pace after the mare was warmed up. There was still a couple of days travel ahead of her and she'd be damned if she was going to be late....

 

Snorting, Lillian reared her head to find it, and herself, in foot long grass. Feeling something nudge her side, she turned about to find it was the light palfrey she had picked up at the last village. It was about then that she became conscious of the pain in her right shoulder and neck. Sitting up, Lillian reached up to the palfrey's head and stroked it reassuringly as she tried to remember what had happened. Last she remembered she was riding and then it was blank.

 

Groaning, she realised she must have passed out in the saddle and fallen off to the side of the road. She'd slept little over the last few days, and it had obviously caught up with her. Looking to the sky, she could see that it was past midday. The last she remembered was early morning, she'd lost several hours. Rocking forward, Lillian went to stand only to fall down again.

 

"Stupid ankle!" Following that with several curses that would have made her friends blanch as she never swore in company, Lillian blinked away the tears in her eyes as she got up on her one leg and hopped over to the saddle. Getting back in the saddle proved far more difficult than she had originally anticipated. In fact, it took her a good ten minutes to do so, but she managed it, despite her twisted ankle trying to tell her it was on fire. At least the riding boots kept it from moving overmuch, but that was small consolation.

 

Doing her best to ignore it, Lillian reached back to her saddlebags and looking in there withdrew an apple she had picked the day before. Rubbing it on the fabric on her chest, she took a bite and became aware of just how hungry she was. Not only had she denied herself as much sleep as possible, but meals had been quick affairs if at all.

 

Finishing the apple to the core, Lillian tossed it aside as she put her boots to the horse's flanks. It was time to be on the move on once more, despite the palfrey's reluctance. She only had another day to get there, and burn it all she was going to make it no matter what.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Novice of the White Tower

[Wayfarer]

It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, despite all odds, Lillian had made it. The moon was out full that night, and the road wind down a gentle slope that found its way to the village of Yarnmar. Not far from the village, she could spy the caravans that marked her quarry. With relief came trepidation though, she wasn't sure if she was ready for what she would inevitably have to face sooner or later.

 

Then again, it was inevitable that she would have to go down there. Touching her heels to the horse, she made her way at a gentle canter. There was no need for speed now. It was a few minutes until she neared the caravans, and was stopped by a sentry. Luckily, the sentry recognised her, so she was taken in quickly and was brought to Aviel's caravan while her horse was led away for her.

 

Bringing her hand up to knock, Lillian paused for a moment before rapping her knuckles on the wood several times. Heeding the call to enter, Lillian pushed the door open and stepped inside to find Aviel at her desk scribbling something down, looking almost as haggard as herself. They were remarkably similar in appearance, with only a few differences that people who knew them well could pick out. Her cousin a little shorter, she also had a quicker temper as she wasn't the most patient of women. Such differences had made them closer rather than more distant though, and they were family, and family could be trusted.

 

A ghost of a smile played on Lillian's face as she shut the door behind her. She was halfway towards Aviel when her cousin turned about and saw who it was. The embrace was a needed one, it brought home to Lillian that she had truly made it in time. It was also good to be amongst family again, even under the circumstances as they were. Parting, Lillian didn't get to finish her request to see her parents when her cousin acquiesced. At the far end of the camp was the wagon they were after. Climbing in after her cousin, Lillian pulled herself in and froze as she saw a pair of white sheets laid out ove-

 

"Are you sure you are ready for this?"

 

Snapped out of her daze, Lillian swallowed as she made her way on her knees next to Aviel who was watching her with concern. "I need to see them. Please."

 

It was a moment until Aviel nodded, and Lillian held her breath as the first sheet was pulled back. With her escaping the White Tower, and the constant travel, it wasn't until the moment she saw her mother's pale and bloodless face that it struck her. They were gone.

 

She managed to hold onto her control until the sheet covering her father was pulled back. It was obvious that what could be done had been done, but there was no hiding what had happened. Nor was anything left in her to keep her emotions in check. It was Aviel who had to pull her off her father's corpse as she wept, and hold her close as she buried her face in her cousin's shoulder and cried. All of it, it was too much, and she let it run free finally, after keeping it in so long.

 

It was sometime later when she regained her senses, her mother's hand in her own and her cousin's arms around her. Her cousin was imploring her to come with her to get some rest as the next day was the funeral. Strangely numb, Lillian nodded absently as she leant forward and pulled each of the sheets to where they were before she had come.

 

Slipping out of the wagon into the night air, she hugged herself to stave off the chill inside her that had little to do with the wind. Tomorrow was the day, the day she said goodbye as she laid her parents to their rest. She wasn't sure if she was ready for it, but drooping eyes and drowsiness were a sign that she wouldn't be contemplating it for much longer.

 

Her cousin guiding her back to the caravan, Lillian was soon fast asleep, though tears found a way to flow even in her sleep. The morrow would not be kind...

 

 

It was a few hours past dawn when the ceremony began. There were no more than twenty people in all left after the attack on the trade caravan, and all were in attendance. It was a gray morning, the heavy clouds that had rolled over before dawn obscured the sky. Strangely appropriate all things considered.

 

Dressed in a simple black dress and veil, just as her cousin was, Lillian stood in silence as her cousin stood before the others and spoke with a firmness that was haunted with sorrow. “We are here to remember Caladin and Delphynia Tremina. Their threads in the great pattern cut, they have left us but shall be rewoven upon the Wheel of Time. Birthed by the Light, they have returned to it, having led good lives. Before we commit them to the earth’s embrace, we speak of them so as to keep the memory of them strong.â€

 

“Uncle Caladin was a just man, and his justice he tempered with compassion.†Seeing the sad smile on Aviel’s face, Lillian did as well as her eyes shimmered with tears waiting to be shed, she knew the story that was to be told. “It was my first time in Tanchico, a new land with no faces that I knew as friend. Uncle Caladin was showing me the city when a slip of a boy cut my purse. He didn’t get far before he was run down, and my purse returned.â€

 

“Rather than simply handing the boy to the town watch, or flogging the boy as some would have done, Uncle Caladin talked to the boy. After a good half hour, Uncle Caladin gave the boy a penance. He would be a runner boy to deliver messages to other merchants for our family, and in turn he would earn coppers honestly so he could feed and clothe himself, rather than risk the wrath of the next person who caught him cutting purses. It was from this that I learnt that while a hand must be firm, it must also be fair.â€

 

Pausing for a moment, seemingly reflecting on the memory, Aviel spoke once more. “Aunt Delphynia had a keen eye for business, and she also possessed an empathy for others that was never feigned nor artificial. She had only met me a few times before I came to Tanchico to join the family trade. I knew no one, yet Aunt Delphynia took me under her wing. She treated me as if I were her own daughter, giving me her love and trust.â€

 

“As she instructed me in my trade, she likewise had faith in me. Rather than belittle my mistakes, she showed me what I could learn from them, and took pride in me when I performed well. She gave me a sense of myself, and what I could achieve, and that is something I shall always carry with me.â€

 

Standing for a moment in silence, Aviel stepped into the crowd, allowing another to step forward and speak. Lillian was grateful to have Aviel at her side, she needed someone to lean on today more than ever. Most who were part of the caravan were long time retainers, and had known her parents for years. Yet even the pair who had only recently come into service had their own stories to tell.

 

And so the time passed for a couple of hours until there was only one person left to come forward and speak, herself. Returning the reassuring squeeze that Aviel gave her hand, Lillian stepped forward and turned to the people who had assembled, then froze. Her mentor was standing at the back of the gathering, and the look on her face was nearly murderous. If she had been pushing herself as hard as Lillian had to keep pace, bear good tidings later.

 

Mentor or no, she was going to honour her parent’s regardless. Deliberately tearing her gaze away to others, she spoke up with a voice hoarse from her weeping, her hands trembling from the strain. “My father and I were at a tourney when I was no more than fourteen, and as we watched the contests of skill, we happened to watch a young nobleman best two opponents at once. I said to my father he must have been brave to challenge two at once, to which he replied ‘true courage lay in the mind and heart’.â€

 

“I didn’t understand what he meant, and I endeavoured to know the young man. I soon learnt that he was quick, strong, had the finest swordmasters of the court to train him, and moreover he was a pleasant man. I thought his courage had no equal, until I discovered more of his true nature. As pleasant as he was, he was so concerned with what others thought of him that he lied to those around him, attempting to be what was expected of him rather than to follow his own calling. A person of true courage stands on their own two feet, and they have the courage to follow their convictions rather than be intimidated by others.â€

 

“Mother in turn tempered this with understanding.†Tears began to roll down her cheeks, yet Lillian ploughed on. “Our family has many rival businesses to contend against, and while it has endured there have been others who have not been so fortunate. The patriarch of the Marnar family, Brendann, was closing his shop with his two sons, his heirs to the fortune. A gang of thugs stormed the shop, killed the father and the sons, and looted the shop.â€

 

“The day of the funeral was not done before Brendann’s wife, Harna, was besieged by people seeking to buy what was left of her business from her. They told her that she didn’t have the ability to run it, and if she cared for her children she would sell to them and take what money they offered. These vultures sought to take advantage of her grief to swindle her, and her daughter Cantra, of what they had.â€

 

“My mother was one of the chief rivals of the Marnar family, but instead of taking advantage she went to speak with Harna one night. Instead of trying to buy her out, she offered to run the business for Harna until her Cantra was ready to inherit. From this my mother taught me that while one should strive against rivals, there must also be mercy and compassion. Without it, we lose our humanity.â€

 

Lillian’s hands were shaking more violently, enough so she had to grip them tightly together as her voice lost some of its control. “They taught me everything I know about myself and those around me. That you mu- that you must always do what is right first, to follow your convictions yet temper them with compassion for those around you. For everything that they have given me, I shall never forget them.â€

 

Looking to Aviel, who caught her tear filled eyes with her own, her cousin took charge once more. Men moved forward and slipped ropes underneath the coffins, even as the ominous clouds above began to fulfill their promise as drops of rain began to fall from the sky. Aviel was at her side again, supporting her as the coffins were lowered gently into the earth. As it was done, one of the men recited the simple words that accompanied the dead to the embrace of the earth.

 

“To the light, we commend you.

To the earth, we deliver you.

From the pattern, you are released.

From the wheel, you shall return.

May the Creator shelter you.â€

 

Once the graves were filled with dirt, people said their goodbyes in silence before departing to make the caravan ready. While there was nothing to mark the graves for now, Aviel had commissioned the stonemason of Yarnmar to fashion gravestones not only for Lillian’s parents, but also the others who had died and been buried nearby. By the time Aviel passed back on this road, she would be able to make certain for Lillian that her parent’s graves had been marked.

 

Aviel was the last to go, needing to attend to the caravan as it would need to set off soon if they were to make it to the next village. Only half aware, Lillian sank to her knees, heedless of the weather as the random drops of rain began to develop into a shower. Her entire world at that moment consisted of nothing more than herself and the graves before her.

 

It was not to last, all Lillian heard was a clearing of the voice before a hand slipped underneath one of her arms and yanked her to her feet painfully. Turned about so she was face to face with her mentor, she found Halvie Sedai’s mood had changed little. Yet her mentor had nothing to say, she simply watched her student in silence, expecting her to say something.

 

Lillian never wished to disappoint her mentor, she always worked as hard as could and complied with every order. This time, she was simply too tired, too bone weary, too overwhelmed with sorrow. She said nothing, simply looking back at her mentor with a face ravaged by grief, tears flowing as freely as the rain fell, the sky weeping as she wept. There was nothing left to her at that moment, even as she saw her mentor standing before her, in her mind all she could see were her parents, and memories of what they’d had, and the overriding fact that the pillars of her life were now gone.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Novice of the White Tower

Grieving

 

-

 

'*' A world of rain and tears flowed in harmony with the turbulence she had fought the moment her heels had touched the flanks of her bay. Drifting thoughts interlinked with disbelief, humiliation and an abrupt blaze of anger. She struggled to maintain her vice-like grip on those emotions which had previously filtered her every wakening moment. Now, she felt those feelings decrementing, degenerating, dissipating and shifting into that of a battle with her integrity. A funeral; an event so emotionally charged it left her feeling tender and wretchedly vulnerable. It should not be so; she was Aes Sedai after all and had achieved her high status via pure talent & independence. Her family life had been uprooted decades ago and that scarred memory entombed in inches of dust. She had figured to stamp out any fallacy of clinging to ancestral roots with the passage of time spent pursuing other deeds. She had almost believed it possible to continue acting as though she had never had a family, no relatives, no one but herself. A burial; it blew away every lie she had placed as a veil over her eyes. Butchery, yet she had survived and only she. Halvie almost doubled up from the effort to restrain the unshed tears decades old, and clung to the pitiful fragments of sanity resolutely.

 

'*' Her past had been abandoned when she was first accepted into the Tower. She had been equipped with both the ability & power to do what Lillian was assiduously incapable of despite her age. She sought to comfort herself, to eradicate every vestige of compassion that had dared crawl into her because it was an intrusion, a weakness. The Tower was not done with her and she was not with it either. Past time to move the pieces on chess boards into position, for one’s sake. That was, after all, the way of life. The meaning of life. This was precisely what she had built her life upon and viewed them as her foundation. Family was insubstantial and as passing as a fallen autumn leaf as the scene before her proved; it was power and respect that would earn her what everyone else secretly coveted. It was what she was. Yet, why did she find herself doubting so?

 

'*' "Why?" she whispered softly in a tone that was no obstruction to the biting, whistling wind. The word vanished from her hearing the moment it was uttered yet still it reverberated in the deep recesses of her mind. Who did she really pose the question towards, was it even a question? Halvie bit back a bitter laugh at the thought of what they must look; each staring at the other hollowly, as lifeless as the dead themselves. This would not do. No; too much lay at stake back in the Tower for her to cave in to forbidden desire. She might be a craven but a fool was not one the Light would ever catch her as. All her years of blood, sweat and toil; would she allow them to go up in the dark spirals of smoke & licking red flames as easily as her missives did? All those prices she had paid in ransom with both blood and toil? Never.

 

'*' "You are as dead as those corpses there, Lillian Tremina, and we both know it," Halvie declared with an abrupt flash of white anger that made her pull back in an ugly snarl. Cleansing fury; it would wash away those minute doubts & despair for her as it always had. She feared to push her fortune however and instead, kept down the tirade was beginning to build from within, like a red, angry tide...

 

'*' "The Tower remains our destination and we begin now." A pale hand snaked around Lillian's neckband, cruelly tugging it forward with a suddenness that made the novice stumble. She jerked it upwards until they faced each other; their faces each bore the furrows of grief with polar origins. All she could focus on was the destruction this impertinent, inane little girl had successfully wreaked and worry as to when she had become so vulnerable to her own charge. Suspicion filtered in then as she speculated on the likelihood of Lillian being involved in a conspiracy working against her. No, it could not be. She would not. The espionage carried out by her Tower spies had gifted her daily reports regarding the scattering of misdeeds committed by one Lillian Tremina but none had leaned towards a darker undercurrent, of another force governing the novice’s actions. Not so much as a whiff that Lillian could mean to cause harm to befall her mentor. “Go!" It came out as a half shout as she pushed the novice before her towards where the horses were kept. "I mean it."

 

'*' Halvie endured not a shred of remorse as she eyed the silhouette of the stumbling novice though the approaching woman, Avriel, had her on edge more than ever. Was she who she claimed and posed to be, or the next part of some clandestine arrangement? The abstract evidences that pointed them towards that possibility intertwined with the physical and for a long moment, Halvie stayed silent because she had to.

 

'*' She regretted having ventured out alone after being driven on impulse. Saidar could only shelter her from so many difficulties and ages had flowed by since her body had last suffered the bruising and discomforts that she had. Groveling innkeepers weren't satisfying nor was the occasional free boarding she had received due to her rank. No; it was a simple matter of retaining her pride. Each step taken had seen her pride slip away to be trampled reminiscent of the iron shoes of her mare upon muddy puddles. Avriel’s request of seeking protection startled Halvie to an uncertain extent but she kept her peace and contemplated the offer from all angles.

 

'*' “The lightning strikes and so shall I, for the mischief Lillian has wrought. You know that well.†It was a statement that rang clear with a cacophony of meanings and threats, all veiled & obscure to those foreign to the intricacies of political intrigue. Blood and bloody ashes, but the game of power had evolved into something she lived and fed off; the only thing. Water continued to rain in chilling sheets from a dark-bellied sky, a haunting atmosphere that did little to blunt her harsh words. A flash of uncertainty across the trader’s features was greeted with a calculated silence and then, a single, almost imperceptible nod.

 

“I accept your offer.â€

 

Halvie Sedai

Sister of the Green Ajah

Mentor to Lillian Tremina

[Wayfarer]

"Lillian?.. Lillian?.. Lillian?!"

 

Looking across to Aviel in surprise, she responded more out of reflex than will as she took hold of the bowl shoved into her hands. Steam rising from the particularly spicey food, a pair of sursa had been embedded in it for her to use. Taking the sursa in hand, Lillian stared before putting them back in the bowl.

 

Sitting the bowl next to her, it balanced on the fallen log well enough as she turned back to the fire that she'd been staring into, their only source of light for the night. It was only their first day of travel, but it had been a blur for the most part. Seated in the wagon, she hadn't stirred and nor had she been troubled. Halvie Sedai hadn't troubled her once, riding her own steed alongside the caravan. She had held little wish to have contact with her mentee, one who had caused her disgrace, so it seemed.

 

That was a non-existant consideration for Lillian. Not even quite aware of what was around her, she was focused inward, though one couldn't quite call it focus. While she could see what was around her, her eyes saw other things that captured her attention far more. Her family, happier times, thoughts of what her mother and father must have done while she was gone, what their lives must have been like. All that she missed, times she might have had if she had not been discovered with the ability to channel.

 

What if I had never been discovered, they would never have come...

 

"Lillian!"

 

Shaken from the shoulders, Lillian looked to Aviel with an empty look on her face, barely acknowledging her cousin. "Eat. At least a little. Please."

 

Taking a moment to process what was said, Lillian turned and taking up the bowl, helped herself to a mouthful. Chewing seemed to take forever, but she got it down. Another, then another, and then she was done. Leaving the bowl almost full on the log, Lillian went to the wagon and with mechanical detachment shed her clothing and crawled into her bed. Not that there was any sleep to be found, only more visions of her past, and what could have been.

 

I killed them...

 

 

 

Lillian wasn't exactly sure how many days it had been, though it had easily been over a week, since she had last seen the Jualdhe gate. Yet recognition was about as much as she could muster before her gaze drifted higher. The White Tower dominated the sky, far above the rest of the city it stood tall, proud, alone. Of those things, Lillian could only feel any sort of kinship with the last.

 

But that moment of clarity, like the few that had gone before since setting out to return to the White Tower, were far and few between. Drifting off once more into her haze of memory and guilt, the outside world was beyond her grasp as the caravan made its way through the city.

 

Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned to see Aviel looking at her worriedly, and reluctantly? "Our ways part here cousin. You'd best be on your horse and on your way before your mistress takes umbrage."

 

Nodding woodenly, Lillian accepted her cousin's embrace automatically at first, then tightened as a tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry."

 

Releasing her cousin, who didn't seem to quite understand what she meant, Lillian slipped off the wagon onto the cobblestones. Her horse tethered at the end of the wagon, it wasn't long before she was mounted and looking to Aviel one last time, fell in with her mentor.

 

The pair making their way through the inner gates, there was only silence between them as they made their way to the stables. Their horses taken by stableboys Lillian barely saw, she simply followed as her mentor. Where they went, Lillian knew but did not register. They would see the Mistress of Novices.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Novice of the White Tower