The First Page of a New Book – Attn: Aleanda and MoN

[Winter Mist]

Everyone’s roads lead to different destinations, regardless of what they intend. Light. Tar Valon was a much bigger place than Rossa had imagined it would be. Even down to street level, everything was as white as the gleaming walls that contained it, the elegant spire of the White Tower appearing as a beacon for miles around to serve as the pinnacle of esteem it held. Her own journey here had seemed more like a pilgrimage: a chance for Rossa to learn… something… anything… from the sisters here as to whether she had any recourse for the death of her family back in Altara, not to mention to try and work out how come the woman that had been at the inn with her had looked at her so strangely. Almost overcome with emotion, grief and tiredness from her escape of the burning house, Rossa had spent less than a day gathering thoughts, possessions and directions before setting out on the journey to Tar Valon alone.

 

The face that had appeared before her as Rossa had opened her eyes was as unlined as a girl’s, yet her eyes held more depth than her seeming age. Those eyes had seen many years, hardships, disputes, and good times and somewhere in those pools that had attracted her was a hint of loss, and pain. Each individual person had their own story, this Rossa knew, but this woman seemed to have lived many stories. Had lived many lives, perhaps. The certainty of what she had to do filled her as completely as the smoke that had nearly claimed her life. She owed it to her mother and father, and her siblings to find what had happened and find some way to repay those responsible. Daybreak heralded the open road, the scant coin she had remaining paid for the room and enough food to see her for a few days travel, if she was cautious.

 

For one unused to travelling alone, and on foot, Rossa did not get lost as often as she had thought she would. Staying close to the main roads and following rivers where necessary meant that she could largely see if there was anything ahead and an in-built sense told her that bandits would not strike at such openly public places. She feared for herself at night though, hiding herself well in case of those wanting more than a friendly word or to rob her purse. Three days into it, she was used to rolling up under hedges to weather out storms or showers, and adding the odd bit of local produce to her dwindling supplies wherever she could find it. A clutch of mushrooms she recognised as the cook had prepared their dinner once was a treat, not to mention the occasional rabbit Rossa managed to bring down with a well-aimed stone or rock. It all added to the pot, and one or two nights she made an adequate fire and roasted the small creature over it, a few harvested herbs adding to the flavour and making a passable meal for one used to the finer things in life. Bitten more times than she cared to think about, she itched and scratched for a lot of the journey, and ended up asking for directions from the local villages to make sure her path stayed true. One light-blessed woman offered her a room overnight if she could do some mending for her, an easy task for one taught sewing the way Rossa’s mother had done, insisting that each of her children be able to sew, be it harness or fine cloth. She gratefully sat mending clothes, likely for sons gone to join the army while the old woman regaled her of gossipy tales, and of events of such magnitude they had made their way into her sleepy little village. Setting off the following morning with replenished provisions, Rossa continued her journey until eventually, the fabled Shining Walls of Tar Valon loomed large on the horizon.

 

Hot sun made it appear as though the outer wall was incandescent the first morning Rossa laid eyes on it. Hitching her small bag of belongings so it was more comfortable on her shoulder, she set off towards them. Not that it contained much. A few coins she had on her when she escaped the blaze, the food, jewellery she had been wearing had gone into the bag so as not to arouse the attention of those with a less than honest disposition and some bits of wood she had found that would look nice carved. It had given her something to do of a night, making little carvings from memory of her mother and father, and her family, so she might have something to remember them by. The bustle of the place had startled her at first, so used to the relative quiet of the open road and her own company, having all these people all of a sudden had taken a few moments to adjust to. Thankfully, those she had asked had yielded the information about how to approach the White Tower without too much difficulty, and before long she found herself outside, waiting to take the final steps before starting the next stage of her life.

 

It had been a blur, all of it. The corridors of the Tower, everything that had been said to her so far was a haze, bitten by grief for the first time, sharp and spiky, since the event that had caused her to be here in the first place. Seeing everyone there, so noble, even the Accepted that scurried with dignity to lessons or chores seemed to exude a similar purpose to that which her family had done. She went unnoticed there, too. But the simple thought caused some of the pain to unsettle her, displacing the earlier resolve that had permeated her and making her feel fragile. I can’t afford to feel like this! Not now! Tears formed at the corners of her eyes and her shoulders shook briefly as her composure started to slip, suddenly feeling very alone and vulnerable. Why not me too? Why did I have to escape?

 

No answers were forthcoming from her mind. For what could have been minutes or just a few seconds, Rossa stood outside a large wooden door contemplating her hands that were uncharacteristically wringing together, trying to pull herself together and regain some of the dignity her parents would have chided her for losing in such surroundings. No, they would not be happy to see her with a downcast face and submissive demeanour. You are Altaran! You should be proud of where you have come from when you talk to anyone, even those above you in status. Her father’s words echoed in her head, giving her comfort despite that being one of the only things he had ever had to say to her. It stiffened her backbone enough to shake Rossa from her reverie. Hands adjusted her clothing to make sure no signs of the travelling she had done were obviously visible, even though a close inspection of her person would reveal the toils that had been undertaken. At least the dress was clean, and of a good cut, the grey of the fabric hiding the majority of the smoke damage. The hem was still in decent condition, sewn where it had come undone with the needle she had been allowed to keep when stitching for the woman that had given her lodgings. Feeling as much of her noble birth as she could under the circumstances, Rossa leaned forward and knocked confidently on the door.

[Lavinya]

Countless times Faerzyne Grigory had glanced at the sun already, and before the day had ended, countless more times would be added to that. She sighed softly, and inclined her head a little, causing the little bells attached to her braids to tingle softly. Yet even the bells sounded a bit weary, as if they too suffered from a lack of sleep. The Mistress of Novices stifled a yawn, and turned her attention on the book of Novices again. Everything was recorded in there, after all. Everything that mattered at least. Last night another Accepted had ventured into the rings, and passed through them free of everything she had been before she became who she was now. In her fine handwriting Faerzyne made a note of the raising in the book of Novices. Today the girl would choose her Ajah, and her fate would become truly entwined with that of the Tower. Her choice was no secret to Faerzyne, the way very little that happened among the novices and accepted of the White Tower was a secret to her.

 

She closed the big book after she was done. The book looked a little old, but the preservation wards that were set on it worked well. It seemed as though it would never get full. Faerzyne had once paged through it, and found her own name, as well as that of the Mistress of Novices before her. It was interesting to learn how long some of her sisters had been here, and how long they had taken to get themselves raised. Wistfully Faerzyne peered at the sun again, only to find that it hadn’t moved a bit. The day was still young, and she would be tired and aching by the time it was done. Not that the work of the Mistress of Novices ever truly ended. There were wards on the door to the office that told her people were waiting in front of it. The wards would wake her, even if someone tried to sneak in when the night was at it’s darkest.

 

Just as she thought of the wards, a tingling sensation crept over her skin, telling her that someone was about to knock on her door. Soon enough the sound of knocking followed. The sound of a knock often told her a lot about who wished to enter. This was the hesitant knock of someome who came to her with a request. Faerzyne took a moment to school her expression into something a little less depressing than the look of fatigue she had had. “Enter.†She said, her voice calm and low as usual. The door opened as she channelled a thread of air to it. To whomever entered it might seem as magic. The young woman was dressed in clothing that suggested she was not of the Tower. Yet. Things might change soon. “My name is Faerzyne Sedai. I am the Mistress of Novices at the White Tower. How may I help you?â€

 

~Faerzyne Grigory

Mistress of Novices

[Winter Mist]

~Rossa~

 

It did not seem to be all that long before a voice called from within. The Mistress of Novices, telling her to enter and asking who she was. Light, why did she have to pick now to yield to nerves? All the way here, travelling alone, she had not worried once about the future, and now she was here it seemed as though she would rather be back in the burning building or in the inn she had awoken in rather than facing the possibility of continuing with this path. Yet she could not turn back now. Her family pride and honour was at stake and the name of the Noble House Venye stood to lose even more if it’s only remaining daughter failed to gain prestige. It felt as though all the pressure in the world lay on her shoulders, and at the same time it felt such an insignificant thing causing her heart to beat faster than she had thought possible and her palms to blossom with a thin film of sweat. Why her? No one ever answered that particular question though, and she doubted for a long time she would ever know the answer. Gathering her self-control; hardening her middle to iron the way she had done before giving a musical recital at which she never performed well, Rossa saw the doors open of their own accord and kept her eyes on the carpet before stepping over the threshold into the office. What other wonders would this place yield?

 

Her eyes took in the details of the room even as she walked in. Well-furnished with tasteful carpets, the office had the feel of a cosy study to it, yet on the other side of the room, Rossa laid eyes on the solid wooden legs of a desk that looked very business-like. Books lined the walls and a few papers laid around gave the place a feel that it was used every day. Would she eventually rise to such great heights as this? Would she even be able to learn where to begin? That was probably the more apt question, as she had heard whispers amongst childhood gossip that it must take a long time indeed to learn as much as those of the White Tower knew, especially those that ventured into the Courts of Kings and Queens. Fabrics and rank and status, the Great Game and how to carve little statuettes; that was all Rossa Venye knew about. It was a lot compared to those that could not read or write, but life was like that sometimes, it all depended on your circumstances and what you do with your life. She raised her head and took in the appearance of the Mistress of Novices, to whom she had been directed.

 

The nerves were fading now. Protocol had dictated to Rossa from an early age that until she had achieved sufficient rank of her own, she should show deference to those she was uncertain of, and she definitely did not consider herself above this woman. She had a kind look on her face, but there was certainly a vestige of tightness around her eyes that spoke tellingly that the lady before her would brook no nonsense from anyone. Instantly, Rossa dropped into a deep curtsy, showing the respect that she would have used for her father or the Queen of Altara, spreading her skirts wide and keeping her head level to the floor. Rising from the curtsy, she announced herself.

 

“My name is Rossa Venye, Aes Sedai.†Her throat felt thick as she said her family name, so she swallowed, trying to mask the burst of grief that welled up inside her, tears wanting to form in the corner of her eyes. “I have come to see if I might be able to become an Aes Sedai, to be tested and to learn.†There – she had said it. Rossa had hopefully taken the first step towards fulfilling her goal, and her revenge, which she knew would follow. Honour demanded it!

[Lavinya]

Faerzyne gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk. They were uncomfortable, but that was for a purpose. After all, those who spent too much time in them would deserve the discomfort. Those who did not were merely reminded of the fact that they should not misbehave, in order to avoid the discomfort that came with the chairs. The young woman, who had identified herself as Rossa sat down. Faerzyne folded her hands in front of her on the desk, and studied the girl intently for a moment. Not that she could judge if the girl would be worth anything just yet, but at least she would be able to see how nervous the girl was. Those who were most nervous often were the ones who wanted it most.

 

“Tell me, child…†She started, deliberately using the word child. She would become accustomed to it before she was raised to Aes Sedai, and Faerzyne saw no point in shielding the girl from what would be her reality during the next twenty years of her life, if she turned out to be worthy of staying. “Have you been tested?†The girl shook her head, indicating that she had not been tested, or perhaps that she didn’t even know what the test entailed. Faerzyne smiled reassuringly at the young woman, and opened one of the drawers of her desk. There was only one item in the drawer. A gray, clear gem that she had received from the former Mistress of Novices.

 

Slowly she rose from her seat, and walked to the other side of the desk. Though she was by no means the tallest Aes Sedai within the White Tower, she imagined that she must come across as being a giantess to the young woman sitting in the uncomfortable chair. She knelt in front of her, trying to relax the young woman a little. The test would be hard enough as it was without Rossa being terrified of her. “Clear your mind completely, and focus on the stone.†She said. The girl did, staring at the stone intently. Time passed, and Faerzyne worried that her arm would cramp up before the girl showed any sign of potential. Just as she thought there would be nothing, s light flickered within the stone. Faerzyne smiled, and rose again. As she walked back to her side of the desk, she imagined she felt the surprise in the eyes of the girl as they settled on her back.

 

“Congratulations, dear. You can learn to channel.â€

 

Faerzyne, MoN

[Winter Mist]

~Rossa~

 

Clear her mind completely? Was that even possible? The chair beneath her felt as though she were sitting on a bench of ice, it was so uncomfortable. Nerves were not the problem, although Rossa felt them utterly; being in a new situation did not faze her usually, neither did being presented to those of higher rank than herself; but there was something about this woman that commanded her respect. It was more the fact that she held Rossa’s future in the palm of her hand. She could send her away and her cause would go unfulfilled, or that she would not be able to channel and would be sent away as a result of her own failure. Rossa had not made plans past getting in to the White Tower and now her mind worked in other directions, trying to find out a way to continue with her plot if she could not do so via Tar Valon. It would also add shame to her family’s name. The lone survivor, seeking revenge on those that murdered her family and attempting to gain prestige if they had been discredited becoming an outcast now turned away from the White Tower. Anyone that knew her would laugh. As well find a knife and end everything…

 

The Mistress of Novices’ voice soothed her somewhat, and Rossa tried to do as instructed, to clear her mind of everything and to concentrate on the little grey gem. She tried to concentrate, to put her family’s agonised screams out of her head, but nothing happened. She wanted to cry. The presence of the Aes Sedai did not make it any easier, surprisingly. The proximity reminded her sharply of her mother, and hurt and pain welled in her breast once more. Instead, she traced the outlines of the gem, noting the lines with which it had been carved by some master jeweller. Plain lines; cut simply to make it sparkle in certain light levels and of a grey so pale as to resemble smoke…

 

…It choked her, surrounding her so thickly she was unable to breathe or taste the sweetness of stale air, let alone fresh. Crackling could be heard from every corner of the room; from all sides issued a dull rumble as the flames bit hold of everything that would catch, sight made impossible by the rising smoke. Smoke filled her lungs, searing at her throat and leaving an acrid taste in her mouth. Her resolve was fading like the light as a beam came crashing down, blocking off her window as an escape route. Her options were leaving, and her consciousness slipping away as the fumes overpowered her. House Venye was literally falling around her ears and there was nothing she could do about it, leaving her with two options, escape or surrender and die. She was not the dying type…

 

…Her mind cleared of everything; concentrating purely on the smoke and imagining herself clearing her mind of the fug for log enough to escape. Once she was free of the danger of being caught in the house and burnt alive, she could concentrate then. Screams pierced her ears, heard only faintly as determination coursed through her. She was a noble and devoted daughter of a House of high repute. She could not afford to die undignified in a mere house fire. When she stumbled free of the ruins of her house, her legs carried her without thinking to the nearest village, fresh air burning her lungs where the smoky one had seared it. Her heart beat an erratic tempo as legs unused to such exercise carried her onwards, finally finding an inn where she could ask for help to rescue her siblings and parents…

 

“Help them… House Venye… burning…â€

 

The light had faded, the smoke from the fireplace curling up and out of the chimney, finally being overcome with exhaustion and pain… She tumbled limply to the floor.

 

The moment of her remembrance, when she had passed out, Rossa realised she had been so lost she had surrendered to everything. Her focus had maintained on the stone and it had… glowed? The stone had flashed. True, it had been a very weak flash, but it had emitted a strange, softly glowing light nonetheless. Incredulous eyes like polished mahogany fastened onto the Mistress of Novices’ back as she made her stately way back to her desk.

 

“Congratulations, dear. You can learn to channel.â€

 

Triumph shot through her as the first of her goals was achieved. She was not going to be turned away as useless. She would have the chance to go through whatever she needed to in order to become an Aes Sedai and return some of the lustre to the name of House Venye. In time, she would also pull down those that had set the fires, but Rossa knew she had to take one step at a time. It was still early days…

 

“Thank you, Aes Sedai.†She was truly grateful. Tears welled in her eyes, tears of relief and of grief. Suddenly she felt alone, more alone than she had felt on the road here, and certainly more alone than at any other time of her life. She had no one now. No longer to hold back, Rossa forgot about her noble upbringing and allowed herself to cry, salty teardrops falling from her eyes onto the grey fabric of her dress and staining the material a darker colour. Her mother and father; her sisters and her brother, all gone to the flames, and Rossa here not knowing a single person, feeling truly adrift for the first time in her life. Vengeance was no comfort, not at the moment. She was alone, and she cried.

[Lavinya]

Now that the girl had already been tested, it was time to make her stay at the White tower a fact. Strange enough, the testing didn’t mean that the girl looked any more secure than she had before about her stay at the White Tower. Even though she had to know, somewhere deep down inside of herself that she would be accepted within the White Tower. That she would learn to channel, to the best of her abilities. Still the girl shifted in her seat, as if she couldn’t quite believe that she would be asked to stay, until finally tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

 

Faerzyne blinked in mild surprise, but remained silent, letting the girl cry in the chair before her. She had been Mistress of Novices far too long to let something so trivial as tears affect her, and true to that her expression remained somewhat passive, if soft. She opened the book of Novices which was still in front of her. She picked up her pen, and prepared to write. “Let’s see about making your stay here a bit more permanent then, shall we?â€

 

She didn’t have to look at the young woman to see that there was a change in the tension that had kept her in it’s thrall, though the telling sniffles continued. “Can you tell me your full name again?†As the girl replied, she wrote it down in the book. Another life sealed to the Tower, for better and for worse. “And your place of birth and raising?†again she wrote, making Rossa‘s stay more certain with every letter, every curved or straight line. “And finally your age.†She finished with a dot behind the age, which felt as heavy and important as any signature from any high lord or lady. “Welcome to the White Tower.â€

 

~Faerzyne

[Winter Mist]

~Rossa~

 

How had she managed to give out her name and details when she could barely control her voice? Rossa’s throat was tight from crying and her dress was a darkened blur of mottled spots where her tears had fallen. Partly from relief and partly from her grief had Rossa cried, but they dried up at the wonder of being accepted into a society that would give her the chance to fulfil her needs. And that she would not be turned away. That was the most wonderful part. Her name was now indelibly written into the history of the White Tower, for good or ill, or any outcome that may possibly happen, but it was there now and from here on her path would be even harder work than she dared to acknowledge.

 

The Mistress of Novices had welcomed her. Tears kept threatening even though Rossa felt at her happiest since she had arrived at this White palace as it was hard to switch of barely suppressed grief, and the way her mind kept picturing that grey gem was not helping her. She supposed the next thing would be to learn some great big list of rules that she must abide by during her time here, however long that might be, and just thinking about the way she had just consigned a large part of her life to the study of Saidar made her want to cry anew at the wastage of time that could be spent tracking down her family’s killers. That took money though, and stability, neither of which she had if she had remained in Ebou Dar. At the best all she could have hoped for is one of the neighbouring noble families to take her in as an orphan or a ward, and even then she would most likely have to fear the unwanted attentions of those wishing to see the total downfall of House Venye, male or female. Oppressed and turned into something she was not, there was always the possibility of pulling the House down from within once she had found those responsible, but more than likely she would have been married off to some overly controlling Lord with wandering and violent hands before she could start her plans.

 

Still Rossa sat there. Her shoulders had the same slump of grief they had when she had been crying, slowly unfolding to the proud stance Rossa usually adopted. Now, she felt eager to begin. Eager to learn whatever she could so that her future could start over and maybe her grief could be put behind her.

[Lavinya]

Finally the book was closed again. Faerzyne took a moment to write down the name of the girl’s mentor on a piece of parchment, as well as a summons. The mentor she had selected would be with them soon enough. After she handed the note to a servant that passed in the hallway joined with her office, she returned to the new Novice. With a smile she walked over to one of the many cabinets. She pulled two novice dresses from the cabinet, and handed them to the girl. “These are yours to wear during the years you are a novice. You must tend to them well, mend them when they’re torn, wash them when they’re dirty. For the next years, you will not be allowed to wear anything apart from these dresses.â€

 

She settled behind her desk again, telling the young woman in front of her a little about the rules novices lived by. She went from the curfew to the restriction on venturing into Tar Valon, to the repercussions that would follow if she chose to venture into the yards without a good reason. “But you look like a sensible young woman, so I’m sure I won’t see too much of you here.†A knock on her door told her that the mentor of the girl had arrived. “Enter.†The mentor revealed herself to Faerzyne and Rossa. “I trust that you’ll tell her all she needs to know.†Faerzyne said. Her tone was dismissive. She glanced at the sun, and notice that it had shifted slightly. A while had passed since the young woman had entered her office. A while, but there was still a lot of time left. As the new mentor and mentee pair left her office she sighed, wondering if this day would end any time soon.

 

Faerzyne, MoN

[Robin]

A knock on the door.

 

Aleanda woke up from her day dreams. She'd been sitting in her chair for a couple of hours now thinking about diffrent matters. Phylosophical things mostely, but also daily things. She'd sit there just thinking, but after two, perhaps three hours her thoughts went into day dreaming and thinking about things that would not happen anyway. Wondering about things Aleanda shouldn't wonder about. Aleanda let her hand go through her hair. She knew she didn't look proper at the moment. As she hadn't left her room yet and had no meetings or whatsoever scedualed, so she hadn't combed her hair yet, nor was she proper dressed. The white dress with the lovely beige rose on the back was full of creases.

 

Aleanda stood up, shook her hair on her back and went through it with one hand, fingers spread, it might work as a comb though it was a foolish attempt. While the one hand was hidden in the black hair the other one tried to get the creases out of her dress. This was also a foolish attempt. "Yes?" Aleanda said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. The door opened and a servant entered and offered her, with a curtsey, a letter. Aleanda took it and thanked the servent while turning her back towards him and reading the letter. She read she had to come to the Mistress of Novices' office to pick up a new Mentee. Taking her eyes of the letter Aleanda noticed she had walked to her mirror. She took the comb, and briefly combed her hair. But when she looked into the mirror to herself she said "Never mind then. Bloody hair," and she walked to the Study where her new mentee would be waiting for her.

 

A knock on the door.

 

Aleanda entered when she had heared a voice from in the room saying she could enter. "Faerzyne" Aleanda said with a nod to the woman behind the desk, after having closed the door. "I've come to your summoning. This is my new Mentee?" She said while making a gesture at the girl in the room. A nod and a brief "I trust that you’ll tell her all she needs to know." was the answer. "Naturally." After all this talking like there was no third woman in the room Aleanda turned to the Novice. "My name is Aleanda Sedai, Child. I'm your mentor. Please follow me." Aleanda turned to Faerzyne and said, this time with a little curtesey "Faerzyne," and turned to the door to leave the office. Aleanda didn't look over her shoulder to see if the Novice was following her, she knew the child was.

 

Aleanda Aes Sedai,

Sister of the White Ajah

[Winter Mist]

~Rossa~

 

Her hands folded patiently in her lap and trying not to study the tearstains too hard, Rossa wrenched her gaze away as two new dresses were given to her. They were of a fine weave and of good quality, yet they were plain, and they were white. Always before, Rossa had had the pick of the wardrobes; the finest materials and choices of colours to be clothed in, and now all she wore was a singularly dirty grey dress and the new raiment she held in her hand. It seemed a good choice though -an absence of colour to specify a new beginning, and a focus on her new goal. Lots of new beginnings… She would treasure the dresses, even though they were plainer than her own face, some style could still be put into them somehow. A little tuck here, a little tuck there and before you knew it, you had a well-fitting and becoming gown. It was symbolic. Moreover, it was the person that made the dress rather than the dress making the person, but so few people knew that it was difficult to deny the pleasure in rich colours. One day, she’d make up her mind about how she felt, and on that day they’d tell her to wear something else.

 

The list of rules that the Mistress of Novices ran through seemed impossibly restrictive. Some, she could understand the necessity for but others left her questioning and wondering how under the Light it would be able to avoid breaking them. The elegant woman mentioned she thought Rossa a sensible young woman and that she did not think she would see a lot of her, and Rossa agreed silently, making a promise to herself that she would not find her way to this office without good cause. She wanted to learn as much as she could and to keep her nose out of any trouble so she could progress quickly. Then she could start to find out about those responsible for her family’s deaths and when she was finally raised to Aes Sedai, she could put her plans in motion.

 

A knock drew the Mistress of Novices’ attention, and she called out for the new arrival to enter. Rossa took in the appearance of the woman that had arrived. Clad in white but no novice, the woman had the ageless look of an Aes Sedai the same as Faerzyne Sedai. Her mentor, Rossa supposed, and here to tell her what else she could and could not do. Her hair was dark in a sharp contrast to the white of her dress and her bearing as regal as her mother’s had been. Her voice brooked no nonsense.

 

"My name is Aleanda Sedai, Child. I'm your mentor. Please follow me."

 

Instantly rising, Rossa dropped a deep curtsy to Faerzyne Sedai and followed the woman that had introduced herself as Aleanda Sedai. Her mentor, as she had thought, left the room with a small curtsy to the Mistress of Novices and did not look back. Instinct, sharp as a knife, had been instilled from an early age to determine rank and where she stood in any hierarchy, so Rossa fell into line without saying a word. She did wonder where she was headed to, and how the woman would treat her as a mentor.