Testing

[Taei]

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