Conclave [Attn. James]

[silhouette]

Even the sun seemed reluctant to release it’s hold on the world, clinging to it with fervour, the way Nyssa herself was clinging to the last scraps of day as well. A lot battle, of course. Night would come, and with it a meeting. One she had no reason to look forward to, so she did not, dawdling as much as she could. But not too much, for it would not do to be late. With a sigh she closed the report on her desk, and with another sigh she shut the last hint of sunlight out by closing her curtains. Lanfear was a cruel Mistress. She had known that from the very first moment she encountered the woman in Tel’Aran’Rhiod. Her teacher in many ways. But after the teaching was done, Lanfear had not called upon her services all that often. A few nights of spying here, a few nightmares there. Nothing too time consuming. Nothing too serious.

 

But then Lanfear had discovered that Nyssa had certain limits. The teachings of the White Tower were limited to the things that the Light would accept. For Nyssa to be a useful pawn, she would have to learn how to do darker things. So Lanfear had spoken, and so it would be. Not bothering to change into her nightgown, Nyssa reclined on her bed and closed her eyes. Moments later she found herself wandering the halls of her own mansion. It was uninhabited at the time, as she could not afford to leave the tower for years on end. Too many things were at stake, and she wasn’t about to let matters slip through her fingers, just because she yearned to smell the ocean.

 

As always, she wandered the halls of her mansion for a while, checking if everything was still in place. The world of dreams was an accurate reflection of the real world, and Nyssa had used it time after time to see to it that the caretakers of her mansion did their jobs well. There was no dust coating the covered furniture, but that didn’t mean much. Finally she settled in a chair near the window of the main hall. After smoothing the wrinkles out of the dark indigo dress she was wearing, she allowed her eyes to settle on the ocean as it moved. It wasn’t the same here as it had been back in the real world. Time moved differently, and so did the waves. It all made sense.

 

The way time moved did not excuse Rasputin from being late though. Nyssa found herself frowning slightly at the window as she waited. Had she misunderstood the orders the Chosen had given her? No. they had been simple enough. The keeper of the Fortress was late. Perhaps she should be glad. Nyssa was not looking forward to spending time so close to Shayol Ghul. Besides, she had better things to do than sifting through books for dark things that Lanfear might consider useful. There was a Tower to control. Things to plot, people to manipulate. The One Power was not the only useful tool in such matters. In fact, Nyssa had found that it often hampered people. Too much faith in something that could so easily be taken from them. Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. “A pity… he arrives…†she muttered, before turning to look at the man Lanfear had called Rasputin.

[Wayfarer]

Tel'aran'rhiod was not a place that Rasputin made a habit of visiting if he could afford it. He much prefered the waking world to the land of sleep, yet the different rules that governed Tel'aran'rhiod made it convenient at times. With his years of knowledge and experience, he was at least able to make up for the shortfall of not possessing a natural talent for it.

 

Not when compared to the woman who had approached him not all that long ago. Lanfear had approached him, rather than his master, and had spoken to him of one of her followers being allowed entry into the Fortress. In part for her follower's safety, though in the Fortress that was guaranteed. In particular, it was due to the fact that the woman, Nyssa, was Black Ajah.

 

While true Dreadlords possessed free access to the Fortress, Black Ajah were always a particular matter. Most weren't even aware of the Fortress' existance in case one was ever found out and put to the question by the Tower. Which was another one of the reasons that he had to attend the meeting. The only Black Ajah that knew the way were those who had already been there. For the first time, they had to be brought to the Fortress.

 

It only took a moment to manifest his traditional garb. A dark habit slipped over his body, the cowl up and his hands folded in the arms of the robe. From each shoulder ran a line of various golden symbols front and back, symbols that only a few of the current day would understand. Marks of a heritage that had faded since the Trolloc Wars, but a heritage that had been reborn with his... return.

 

It only took a moment to transport himself to the manor that Lanfear had shown him. The lady, Nyssa, was seated as she looked out to the ocean. He could have transported himself much closer with thought, but that would have been rude. Instead he chose to walk within the dream, the steps announcing his presence if it wasn't otherwise known.

 

Nodding slightly as she turned to him, he helped himself to a seat next to her, speaking in a quiet yet deep tone. "Shadow's peace, Nyssa Deschain. I am sorry for the wait, I was delayed. You are well?" If she recognised him now that he was closer, she hadn't revealed it. His wife herself was a darker shade of Gray Ajah, he had visited the White Tower on a number of occasions.

 

 

Rasputin Felar

Scourge of the Light

[silhouette]

Rasputin was an impressive man on first sight, garbed in a way that betrayed a standing that had mattered ages ago. Nyssa had tried to gain more information about the man from Lanfear, but as always her ‘mistress’ had been distracted by other matters far too swiftly. No doubt chasing after the Dragon Reborn once more. Still, his name sounded familiar. No wonder, of course. If rumours were correct, he had been in the White Tower on more than one occasion. She inclined her head in greeting. “Shadow’s peace, Rasputin. I am well.†A pot of tea with two cups appeared on the small table that kept the two chairs apart. “Tea?†she asked. Not that it served a true purpose in the world of dreams, but it was proper to offer a guest tea, and Rasputin was a guest on her property, after all.

 

After a nod and a ‘please’ from Rasputin the two cups filled seemingly on their own accord. Even though she had become accustomed to Tel’Aran’Rhiod swiftly, Nyssa still enjoyed the power the dream gave her. Little things like pouring tea required no effort at all. Just a thought, and it was done. “I trust that your journey here went without much difficulty?â€

 

"There was little difficulty, thank you." Taking a small sip from his tea, he used the small pause to formulate his words. "I am informed by your Mistress that you wish to travel to the Fortress. If you are not already aware, this is not a privilege that is often available for Black Ajah. There are many reasons for it, not all of them are justified, but they stand nonetheless, which is why I am here to speak with you." Taking another sip from his tea, savouring the warmth and flavour even though it wasn't real, he continued. "So, why do you wish entry to the Fortress of Shadow?"

 

Giving herself a moment to think on his question, Nyssa picked up her cup and took a small sip from it. “I had thought that Lanfear would have told you why I should visit the fortress. She was so clear about it when she informed me.†She glanced up from her cup, taking a moment to watch the almost ancient man. “I am to learn, she said. Lanfear seems to have little faith in my ability to talk myself out of a situation, and therefore she wishes that I learn how to kill someone with a flick of my wrist. She is convinced that I will find the knowledge I need to do so in the Fortress.â€

 

Folding his hands in the arms of his habit once more, Rasputin thought about Nyssa's answer before giving voice to his thoughts. "That is good to know. Will you require teachers? Our libraries are also open to those who visit. Also, how long will you plan to stay in order to accommodate for such learning?"

 

“Unfortunately I am not in a position where I am able to leave the White Tower for weeks on end. A week will have to do.†A small frown creased her brow as she thought of her new duties. Phaedra would have look after the Gray Ajah for herself for a week. She was quite convinced that Muirenn could do without her as well. Not that the elder sister had a choice in the matter. With Mesaana away from the Tower, she had lost her patron. Nyssa was currently in a far better position, able to enjoy the ‘support’ of Lanfear. “A teacher is perhaps a bit much, but if you can spare a guide I would be most grateful.â€

 

Rasputin nodded as Nyssa mentioned a guide. "That will actually be a requirement while you are in the Fortress, at least for your first visit. There are rules and customs to the Fortress that you may not be aware of, your guide will be there to ensure you do not infringe on any of these. This is as much for your own protection as for those around you."

 

"For example, how much do you know of the Shadow's Peace?"

 

A small smile curved Nyssa’s lips. The Shadow’s peace. She had heard of it, of course, but within the White Tower it was a foreign concept. She supposed it was only natural in an environment where every single woman worked to gain something, even the lightfools. Peace was not to be had within the walls of the White Tower, and it was best to become proficient at watching your own back. One could never be too sure about when another ‘sister’ chose to stick a knife in it, removing you from the direct line towards the goal they attempted the achieve. At time the Whitecloaks were absolutely right about the nature of Aes Sedai. “I must confess I have only heard of it. The details of it elude me.â€

 

Rasputin smiled slightly as he spoke "that is one of the reasons why Black Ajah must petition for entry. The Shadow's Peace is an injunction that is placed on certain places throughout the world, in particular it is present in the Fortress. What it means is that, there are no hostilities. When one enters a place where the Shadow's Peace reigns, one may not attack another, or steal from them, or attempt to harm them in any way. To break the Shadow's Peace is to earn a death sentence, one which is to be carried out by any darkfriend that is capable. The practicalities of this have changed since the rest of the Chosen have been released from the Bore, but it has been made clear that if a follower of one of the Chosen breaks the Peace, all of their followers will be shunned from the Fortress. The Shadarval shall also enforce the Shadow's Peace where required in the Fortress. As there has yet to be a single person to escape them once a person has been marked in nearly three thousand years, you may take that as a measure of their competency."

 

When Rasputin finished his speech about the shadow’s peace, Nyssa spread her hands slightly. A submissive gesture. “I have no desire to break the Peace. I only wish to learn.†And not just about the weaves Lanfear had told her about. The social structure of the legions of the Great Lord fascinated her as much as any army did. Perhaps she could learn something within the Fortress. She wasn’t particularly worried about any kind of hostility that she could or could not expect there. She could hold her own, even if there were no doubt stronger channellers around. “And even the Chosen abide by these rules? Interesting…â€

 

Rasputin smiled as Nyssa mentioned the Chosen. "I suspect it may be more that it suits their purposes rather than a respect for the covenant made, but it will do. That and Aginor and the Aurani reside in the Fortress, and have done so since he was freed from his imprisonment. Besides that initial risk, breaking the peace would give others an excuse to unite. I doubt any of them wish to expose themselves in such a manner."

 

Again, something proved to be more of a matter of convenience than an actual matter of trust, or faith. Nyssa pressed the tips of her fingers together. It didn’t surprise her at all. She had decided a long time ago that people who feared the retribution of the Great Lord were not quite right in the head. She had yet to find any proof for his existence. His servants were to be feared though. Had she not been the cause of nightmares herself? And that all in His name. “Is there something that needs to be done before I visit the Fortress?†she asked.

 

Rasputin looked at Nyssa for a moment before responding. "I see Lanfear did not inform you. I am not aware if you can travel or skim, but if you can do either it matters little. Your guide will be your means to reaching the Fortress. Travelling and skimming may only be done in one part of the Fortress, to try and do so anywhere else and you'll find your gateway has been displaced several thousand feet in the air, not a good way to end." "Likewise, the weaving is different, for safety reasons as much as any other. That is something you will be taught once you reach the Fortress."

"Where can the guide we assign meet you?"

 

Nyssa pondered on that for the moment. “The top of the White Tower.†She stated. Few people came there as it was. Whenever she met Lanfir Leah there, it was always far past midnight. “Past nightfall, but before midnight. I’ll know when he’d there.†She paused for a moment. “I trust your guide knows how to be discrete?â€

 

Rasputin smiled "he can make it to the top of the Tower unnoticed. If he wishes to remain ungentled at least, and it won't be his first visit so he should be fine. Now that that is settled, is there anything you would ask of me while I am here? Due to my duties, I have little time, and I will most likely be unapproachable during your time at the Fortress."

 

She glanced over at the man sitting a few feet away from her for a moment. Sure, there were things she wanted to ask. About his own alliance, for example. And if he was one of those true believers. She decided to keep it simple though. “Do all those residing within the walls of the fortress dress the way you do? I might have to adjust my wardrobe if it is so.†She said, a smile curving her lips. Let him think she was no more than a silly woman, if it pleased him. She had been able to use that opinion against people more than once.

 

Rasputin chuckled at the question. "No, much like the White Tower, we are cosmopolitan as those that reside there have come from all parts of the world. I wear this to signify my faith and position. Much in the way your Amyrlin wears a striped stole. As the oldest practitioner of Ayende dyu'Shadar, the responsibility falls to me."

 

“A sign of faith…†Nyssa mumbled. She had always found it admirable in Lanfir. Admirable, but not something to covet. “It is ironic in a way, that the steward of the Fortress is also the counterpart of the Amyrlin when it comes to… religious matters. The Amyrlin Seat positively brims with faith that the Creator will deliver her from evil. She is confident that her faith will keep the Great Lord at bay. I look forward to the day she realises that she confides in one of His servants.†Some of her persuasion tried to encourage her to end Lanfir’s life, but Nyssa was not one to let her fun be ruined this early in the game. “Are you such a strong believer then?†she asked, her dark eyes fixed on the signs on Rasputin’s garb.

 

"Without belief, there can be no purpose, and without purpose we have no reason to act. I certainly wouldn't have given my life for the Great Lord of the Dark so willingly without my faith. Do you not find it so yourself?"

 

A true believer it was. Nyssa resisted the urge to shake her head. “I believe that faith is at all times a choice we make. And I find it… easier to have faith in things I can see and feel, and not in things that are merely… hearsay. I have seen more of our Lord than I have seen of the Creator†Nyssa was definitely not the kind of person who thanked the Great Lord of the Dark for every meal. She smiled faintly. “But I do not yet have your… experience, in matters of faith. Perhaps in time I will become as strong in my beliefs as you are.†But until that time, she would remain comfortable in her conviction that there was no such thing as a Creator, or a Great Lord of the Dark.

 

Rasputin couldn't help but chuckle. She was rather diplomatic about her thoughts on his convictions, he would give her that much. "May I ask something of you? You have not been to the Pit of Doom have you?"

 

“I have not.†She said. “Does that surprise you? You have said so yourself, a Sister of the Black Ajah is not as much a part of the regular hierarchy as a dreadlord. I suppose a visit would have been in order when I was placed on the Supreme council, but to be honest… I’ve been too busy to go on a pilgrimage.†A simple thought filled her teacup again. “What would I see, at the Pit of Doom? Something that would make me a better servant of the Great Lord?â€

 

Rasputin took a measured look of Nyssa, as if saying her anew. "In any sort of conflict, those who want it more, those who believe more, those who are willing to go that step farther, inevitably win. Why do you think the Shadow, in all of the turnings of the wheel, has never been banished completely? Faith sustains it, and faith shall see the Great Lord of the Dark free. A visit to the Pit of Doom I suspect will give you a greater depth of faith. To trust what you can see and feel makes sense, and you will be able to do both there. When the Great Lord of the Dark speaks to you.... There is no room for doubt, only belief. As to what that belief is... Well, you will be able to decide that for yourself when the time comes."

[silhouette]

Nyssa smiled sweetly at the man sitting across from her. Hard to believe, this faith. Still, he wasn’t powerless, nor did he seem foolish. Then again, she had seen this blind faith in people she respected greatly. Or would have respected greatly, if not for this faith in something she had never seen or felt before. Perhaps it was because she could channel. The weak often saw the Creator and the Dark Lord in the smallest touch of the One Power. She had been taught to walk the Dream by Lanfear herself, and she had feared the power and the insanity in the woman, for it was great. Still, she had seen no sign of the Great Lord in the Daughter of the Night, just as she saw no sign of Him in Rasputin. All she saw was the work of mankind, those who could touch the One Power and those who could not. Still, it was not something she would say to his face. To question someone’s faith was to question their reason and sanity, and Nyssa had found that many got offended by the merest hint of such a thing.

 

She took a sip from her tea, enjoying the silence of the world of dreams for a moment, appearing calm under Rasputin’s gaze. “Surely you were not always such a devoted follower or our Lord… Tell me something about how you became the man you are now.†She laughed then, a merry and warm sound. “You must forgive me. When men say that women are as likely to stick their noses in things that matter little to them as cats are they speak the truth.â€

 

Rasputin smiled "I was raised to it in many ways, but then again, I am a relic from a much older day, when the shadow was more widely spread, and men and women who called the Great Lord theirs were far more numerous. I understand that it has not been so for some time, and many of the faiths of old have died. There was a time where I... I had forgotten the way. During that time I was given over to many weaknesses, such is the nature of power without restraint, without responsibility, without faith. But, it was restored to me, and I am whole again. It would be far different for you, having been raised in the Tower, confined in so many ways. For Dreadlords, there aren't always the same restraints, depending on who one has for their teacher."

 

Nyssa looked thoughtful at that. On other occasions she would have worked a bit harder to keep her expression as cool and calculating as that of the average Aes Sedai, but it was as Rasputin said. The White Tower put many restraints on it’children, and some of them were hard to shake even when one was away from the tower. Others were lost the second she left the White Tower, and the need for secrecy about her nature diminished. Something Rasputin had said bothered her a little. A much older day. How much older. Muirenn was a relic in Nyssa’s eyes, but even she did not claim to be as ancient as Rasputin seemed to be.

 

“At times one could be envious of the freedom Dreadlords permit themselves… Yet on the otherhand I think I would miss it. The Game, that is.†There had never been any doubt in Nyssa’s mind about what mattered most to her. Even in the days she had followed the Light the Great Game had always been on her mind. It mattered little to her in whose name she played it. “And now you’re the steward of the Fortress… Tell me, what is Aginor like? The only Chosen I’ve ever laid eyes on is Lanfear.â€

 

Finishing his tea, Rasputin set it aside before folding his arms back in their sleeves. "Aginor is... driven. Since he was released, he has not ceased his works, and the things that have come out of his laboratories... It is surprising what can be done with the one power, and what tools are left in the Fortress from the Age of Legends. It sometimes causes one to wonder if there are truly any limits to what the one power makes possible. If anyone were to find a way to circumvent death itself, it would probably be that man."

 

He had chosen his words with care in that last statement, some made the mistake of seeing the Chosen as something greater than men, but in the end that is what they were. Simply more powerful and older was all. "As to the great game. There may soon come a time where it will soon be put aside. Any game comes to an end when a blade is drawn. You will be ready for that time when it comes I think. It shall be as it was before, and even if not so many men stand for the shadow as once did, there shall be enough I think."

 

Before… but when… the last time the Shadow marched forth to claim it’s rightful place in the world was… longer ago than Nyssa dared imagine. No one was that old. No one. Not even the steward of the Fortress. She shook her head slightly, thinking of what the Chosen could do. Rasputin had said it himself, if there was a way, Aginor could find it. And there were other rumours. People who remembered things from other lives. She’d seen hints of it here, in dreams and sometimes even inside Tel’Aran’Rhiod. Rumours and hints, but no knowledge. Then again, sometimes rumours were enough.

 

“I’m sure that when that time comes, the time for the Great Game will be over. But not for long. Never for long. I doubt it stood still for long the last time the Shadow rose.†She shook her head slightly, letting out an amused laugh. “As long as there are people, there will be scheming. That is one thing I am absolutely sure of. Perhaps after this battle is won, it will be even more so. The Shadow has many ambitious followers, and few of those are ever content with what they have.â€

 

Chuckling, Rasputin nodded in acquiescence "yes, there are many who are not content with their lot. But when a sword is drawn, there is little time for the game, not if one wishes to be victor at the end of the day. Those that mix their politics with their battles lose. It certainly wasn't the might of the ten nations that drove the Trolloc armies back, it was those politics.

 

Thankfully, I doubt we shall have such a long war on our hands this time."

 

“Oh I have no doubt about that.†Nyssa said, smirking slightly. “Ambitious lot as we may be, we are united in one cause, whereas the lightfools seem to take joy in dividing their forces. A push and a pull here and there and they’re at each others throats again. There is more use to politics than you might think. Let politics distract them while the armies of the Shadow ready themselves…†she shivered, pondering on what the Trolloc wars would have looked like. The more time passed, the more she wondered if it was possible for Rasputin to have been there. But to ask or not? She pursed her lips slightly, weighing the pro’s and the con’s of such a question.

 

“Yet you speak with certainty, Rasputin. One could almost believe that you have seen the Trolloc wars with your own eyes…â€

 

Smiling at her, Rasputin responded with his own question "have you ever studied the Trolloc Wars?"

 

“I started off as a Novice. They make us study everything, especially their victories.â€

 

"Demandred commanded the armies of the Shadow during the time, and under him were a circle of five M`aeshadar in addition to his personal servant, Bekkar'sorei. Three women, two men. All of them acted as generals, leading his forces in many battles. All of them were given names by the Lightfools, in particular there was one called the Scourge of the Light. An earthsinger of great strength, he would level the walls of cities and shatter the earth itself in the Great Lord's name."

 

"He served over two hundred and fifty years during the war, until he fell at the Battle of Ganval, on the border of Eharon. With a smaller force than the task demanded, he lured the armies of the south there to finish him with the opportunity too good to pass up. For six days his army stood until on the final day it was broken. Of course, victory at Ganval meant defeat on the other borders, Aelgar and Essenia's lines were broken during the battle. It is of interest to note that the histories say that the Scourge died on the final day."

 

"While that much is true, it did conceal a certain truth. He did not fall during the battle. Surviving the battle, though wounded and spent of the power, he ran himself through rather than let a Green Sister who discovered him use him as a trophy, like so many False Dragons have been."

 

"In the White Tower, if you know where to look, you would find record of this. But it does beg a certain question of course, what sort of man could do that? Perhaps a man of faith, would you not agree?"

[Wayfarer]

The words Rasputin spoke could be interpreted in several ways, but Nyssa was quite sure he wasn’t concerned with any way but one as he spoke. It was possible, of course. She had heard it before, legends of old returning in the flesh. A gift from the Creator? Or in this case, a gift from the Great Lord. She resisted the urge to shake her head. It seemed that to believe Rasputin’s words equalled believing in things like the Creator, and Nyssa was not quite ready for that yet, no matter what she might say. Divine power. She would have scoffed at the thought of it had she been in any other company. The servants of the Great Lord has no issues with lies, after all. It was a fine tale. The Scourge of the Light. It sounded familiar, but that was all. She did not believe. Would not believe. All of this and more went on in her mind as she smiled at the man sitting in the dream version of her house once more, before she inclined her head slightly.

 

“Perhaps such a man would indeed be rewarded by the Great Lord in such way. Perhaps…†she allowed the silence to stretch between them. “Maybe I will search for these records.†She would, of course, if only to be able to laugh in his face when they met again. If they met again. As she thought of the White Tower she remembered it’s current paranoia when it came to male channelers. “I have changed my mind about the place where your guide can meet me. Tell him to find me in the Dove inn, third room on the right on the second floor. The White Tower has become quite wary of all things that could point to a False Dragon lately. I would not want your man to risk being ensnared by the White Tower.â€

 

Silently, Rasputin contemplated Nyssa's change of meeting place. There was little reason not to take her words for granted, and he himself had always kept his channeling in the White Tower to a minimum specifically so as to avoid attention. There had always been the temptation to simply destroy the ter'angreal that detected saidin, but that would have been as obvious as wearing his robes into the tower.

 

"That is agreeable." Knowing that there other things he needed to attend to, as well as to get himself some decent rest, Rasputin rose from the seat before speaking again. "It has been a pleasure, but as you can understand there are a great many things I must attend to. Unless there is anything further you wish to ask?"

 

Nyssa rose as well, prepared to show Rasputin out, It was a bit redundant, as he could fade out of the dream at any time he wanted, but still… Nyssa wouldn’t be the one to break protocol. “Not for now. If I think of something, I shall ask my guide.†She inclined her head slightly again, the merest hint of a bow.

 

A smile suddenly quirked on Rasputin's lips as Nyssa mentioned her guide. He would answer her questions certainly, yet whether they would be the answers she wanted to hear were another matter. "May you find shelter in the Shadow, Nyssa." Hearing her response, Rasputin faded from the room, faded from the dream.

 

As always the temptation to keep someone in the dream longer than they intended was great, but Nyssa restrained the urge to do so with Rasputin. She was quite sure he wouldn’t be able to appreciate her little quirks. She ran a hand through her hair as she thought of the White Tower, immediately finding herself in the hallway outside her chambers. Sleep was in order, but not until she had made sure that everything was as it should be. Curiosity and carelessness killed more than just cats, after all.

 

 

Rasputin Felar

M`aeshadar of Aginor