Starting Anew (Arrival to the Fortress)

[Knytiri]

What under the Light am I doing? Vadin asked himself, perhaps for the fourth time, perhaps for the hundredth. He sat atop a small rise, nothing more than a small roll in the land, and stared at the Fortress before him. He had come a long way to get here, it was true, but now that he was there, he wasn't so sure if this was the best idea any more. Soldiers can't be trusted, can they? I know I will do my duty, but those around me... they could be just as bad as a random thief in the city. I can't trust these people with anything, but here I am, about to put my entire life in their hands. Would my father approve? Would my brothers?

 

He shook his head to banish those thoughts. This was a great opportunity, he told himself. He would work as hard at this as he had at the farm. He would prove himself, and he would advance in their ranks. He would make a difference, and he would make sure the men he lead were indeed trustworthy, and were indeed walking the path of the Light, putting right to things gone wrong, placing structure in the place of chaos.

 

He turned back and grabbed his mount, distracting it from its idle grazing. The horse was old, and weakening. This was its last trip, for certain. The Children would have no place for an old horse such as this. It had served him well, and been a good companion in a lonely camp at night. He stroked the mare's nose. He had never named the beast; it had been a rule back on the farm, to never get attached to any animal specifically. They died, either to feed the family, or to feed a pack of wolves come down from the mountain. They did not last. It was not wise to become “close” to them. So he had avoided the same “closeness” with the horse.

 

“Time for you to go free,” he said, taking off the bridle and saddle. He could carry his gear to the Fortress. Perhaps the Children could use the tack; he was almost certain he would not be allowed to keep it, but it would be a waste to leave it out here in the countryside. The horse nuzzled against his shoulder, begging for a special treat. Vadin had none left to give. He had used to carry apples, and would offer the beast the core at after he had his fill. But he had long since run out of such candies for them both. “Go on, now. Go find yourself a nice farm, and perhaps the farmer can use you.” He pushed the horse away, and it returned to its idle grazing.

 

He walked away without a second glance back. The horse hadn't been expensive, and had served him for several years. Its time was done. No need to dwell on it.

 

He reached the Fortress after a short time, carrying his tack over one shoulder. A guard approached him immediately, eyeing him cautiously, as if he expected Vadin to be some type of demon-made-flesh, ready to jump out of his skin and devour the entire Fortress.

 

“State your name and business.”

 

Spoken so bluntly, so forcefully... this man was used to being obeyed.

 

“Vadin Shan. I'm here to become a recruit. I want to be a soldier.”

 

The guard slackened, only a bit, but having spent so long around strangers, Vadin could see the small release of tension in his eyes, the slight adjustment to his stance that meant he was no longer expecting a sudden attack at any moment.

 

“Go on, then. You'll find the High Clerk straight on. Small building, big banner overhead. You'll know it.” He stepped aside, motioning Vadin to go on, and so he did, shifting the weight of his tack on his shoulder.

 

The Fortress was full of life. Men drilling in formations, archers practicing as they shot arrows at targets that looked like little more than pincushions, the ring of steel on steel coming from more than one direction. There were a few blacksmiths here, working their forges, hammering plates of steel out, or shaping blades or even more mundane tools to be used, men practicing the sword, and still others riding with lances tucked under their arms, charging down men made of straw, it seemed.

 

All in all, it seemed glorious. Banners flew high above nearly every building, as if to state loudly and proudly that this was the Fortress, and Light burn any who dared deny it.

 

Vadin followed his vague directions until he saw what had to be the building described, a low building sitting between two others. There were a couple men standing outside, in regular dress, as he was. He moved towards them, and one of them glanced up at him.

 

“You here to join too?”

 

Vadin nodded. “I am.”

 

“Good luck. The Clerk inside is nutty; I can't believe the Children have allowed him to work so long here.”

 

Vadin paused. “Wait... what?”

 

The man laughed. “I'm a farmer, come to sell goods. This here is my partner. We've been doing business with the Children for a good many years. I've seen many lads come and go, some of them chased off before they ever pick up a sword. I hope your heart is true.”

 

“It is,” Vadin said, a little warily. He wasn't used to people talking so openly to him. Usually, when he arrived at a new place, he was met with suspicion and wariness.

 

“Go on, then, go in,” the farmer waved him on, and Vadin walked past him, a little disturbed. He opened the door, stepping into the cool interior of the building. Before him sat a slightly older man, who Vadin judged to the Clerk that the farmer had mentioned.

 

He stood for a moment, expecting them to greet him, but when they did not, he cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously, adjusting his grip on his tack once more. “I, um. Sir, I'm here to ask permission to join the ranks. I was told this was the place to go?”

[Nynaeve]

“Well, isn't this a lovely day! Good morning everyone!” Roudal walked into the office happily, adding a little bounce to his steps. He nodded to acknowledge each and every one of his assistants, which turned into being quite a few nodding. He was starting to get an headache too. But it didn't matter that day. No, things were too perfect and he was too bloody chipper to let anything or anyone ruin his fabulous day.

 

His assistants stood petrified, not quite sure how to react. Roudal ignored them and sat down in front of his desk. He opened a drawer and took out a small wooden box. He opened it and took out a tiny piece of sugared fruit and gobbled it down. “Is everything in order, sir?”. Roudal looked up and smiled. Yes, you read right, SMILED. The assistant's eyelids were starting to flutter, apparently unsure of... much of anything. What to say, what to do, run? hide?

 

Roudal extended the box in his hand. “Sugared fruit? I'm not sure what fruit it is, to be honest. But I doubt you have a much of sensitive pallet anyway. Maybe it's apple bits...”. The assistant hesitated for a moment, probably fearing it to be some sort of trap. “Young man, if I wanted to poison you, I would have done it in the dinning room. God knows I've had countless opportunities, now take the bloody thing. Mmm... maybe pear?”. The assistant finally grabbed a piece. He sniffed it casually and at a look from Roudal tossed it in his mouth.

 

“I think it's prune, sir.” Roudal nodded thoughtfully. “You just might be right!”. The assistant shifted his feet nervously. “Is there something on your mind, young man?”. The man swallowed before speaking. “I was just wondering what was the reason for your good mood, sir. If you want to share, that is.” Roudal considered the question for a moment. “I just woke up today and I felt... pretty!”. The man stared openly. “I understand, sir. I hope you continue feeling... pretty. I will go back to work now.” Roudal nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, go do that!”.

 

Just as the man excused himself a different young man walked into the office. Roudal didn't recognize him to be one of his assistants though with him changing his assistants as much as he changed his underwear, it was hard to tell sometimes. “Prune?”

 

“I, um. Sir, I'm here to ask permission to join the ranks. I was told this was the place to go?”

 

"Take a prune, boy." Roudal was pleased when he took a piece. "So, you are interested in joining the ranks? Are you sure? Do you have an actual grasp on what you're getting yourself into? The life style? the sacrifice? The risk of marrying a wolf dressed as a lamb that will under ALL and ANY circumstances make your life a living hell?". Roudal took a deep breath. No, everything was fine. She went away to visit her mother. He still had that. Yes, tranquility and inner peace.

 

He munched down another prune bit and opened up the recruit book. "Name, age and place of origin."

 

 

Roudal

Head Clerk

[Knytiri]

Vadin stared at the offered box of fruit for a moment. A prune? Seriously? Maybe that farmer wasn't too far off, he thought to himself, but leaned forward, taking one and popping it into his mouth. It only took a few seconds for his stomach to register that it had been quite some time since his last meal, and he ate the fruit quickly. Though, he wasn't sure if it was really a prune. It tasted more like a dried apricot, to him. Or maybe a bit of a few fruits, all slightly compressed into one blob. And then coated with sugar, as if to disguise what had happened.

 

“So, you are interested in joining the ranks? Are you sure? Do you have an actual grasp on what you're getting yourself into? The life style? The sacrifice? The risk of marrying a wolf dressed as a lamb that will under ALL and ANY circumstances make your life a living hell?”

 

Vadin blinked. A wolf... dressed as a lamb? Yes, that farmer had definitely had the right of it. He shifted a bit nervously, unsure of the safest way to respond, but the man merely took another one of his “prunes” and went on, saving him from the awkward scenario he had landed himself in. “Name, age, and place of origin.”

 

He straightened a little. “My name is Vadin Shan, and I have seen twenty-one naming days. I was born and raised in the country outside of Baerlon.” He held back any more—he was offering only what was asked, hoping that was the proper way to go about things. Unsure of anything, really, he had only his gut instincts to rely upon. Light send that it would be enough.

[Nynaeve]

"My name is Vadin Shan, and I have seen twenty-one naming days. I was born and raised in the country outside of Baerlon." Roudal scribbled down all the details and then stared at what he wrote. He never did realize how nice looking his hand writing was. How his L's curled so and how the the space between the letters was just so.

 

"Vadin. I knew a Vadin once as a kid. He liked to make mud pies and force feed them to me." Roudal's eyes focused on Vadin for a moment and then his lips broke into a smile again. "But you seem like the good sort, you do. Especially making such a wise choice of joining the ranks of the Children of the Light. Yes, a very good choice!"

 

Roudal put the book back in its place and nibbled on another prune treat. "Well, you're set as far as signing up goes. Your next stop should be Emanuella's stufy. She's the Quartermaster. She will give you all the information you need. Have a wonderful day!".

 

 

 

Roudal

Head Clerk

[Nynaeve]

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