One Last Stand: The Last Remaining Light **Nyssa**

[Lannie]

OOC: Lanfir will have gone to kill Caladesh in his cell, when she finds a Black Sister standing there with the same intent. She surprises the Black with her katana, murders her in cold blood, and then struggles with Caladesh. It's a dirty fight, a confusing one, since Caladesh also wants to Sheathe the Sword, but in the end they get what they both want: Caladesh' blood staining Lanfir's katana. He perishes. I'm not sure if we ever get to roleplay it out, so we started with the last phase of One Last Stand. This deals with Lanfir's fate...

 

 

One Last Stand: The Last Remaining Light

 

~When you try your best but you don't succeed

When you get what you want but not what you need

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse~

 

Her knees were trembling like straws and she had to sink down to the bloodied floor when they could not support her anymore. Adrenaline rushes were making her body shiver. Battle fever in an exhausted and wounded body was not a pretty thing to behold, especially when the battle had ended. There was blood on her hands, on her vest, her katana. She could even taste it on her lips. The scent of it was thick and metallic in the confined space of the cell.

At her feet lay the lifeless body of Caladesh. The killer of Lyanna, the thief of her own life and joy.

 

"Blood for blood, Caladesh," she whispered at the corpse.

 

He did not respond, naturally. All he did was ooze the last bit of blood out of his body while he cooled off and would soon be overcome with rigor mortis. She regarded his body with a detachment that drowned out all other feelings. The whirlwind had quieted down into silence. She had thought she might feel betrayed because he'd wanted to die at her sword, because he'd thrown himself at her... but in the end she didn't. Not really. All that mattered was that he was dead, and that his lifeblood had spilled over her hands. She had not sat idle and helpless, but she'd taken her fate, and his, into her own hands. And the result was cooling off at her feet.

 

Now all there was left, was silence. There was a complete and utter numbness in her mind, yet the tears were streaming over her face again.

 

She had hoped for relief, or resolve, but she was not feeling anything of the sort. Just emptiness, just lack of direction. What would she do now? Where would she go? Did she even want to, when all what was waiting her in the outside world was emptiness? Once, she had been happy in the 'Green Nature', but that was when she had chosen for her solitude. Back then Lyanna had been alive, her warders... unbonded, living their own lives. They had not even met yet, and there hadn't anything been lost. She'd still had the eternal warmth and comfort of saidar and her ability to access it-- to embrace herself and indulge in the sweetness. That missing was so painful and acute that she literally ached with need.

 

She had felt it the most during her showdown with Caladesh. Adept at swordfight as she was, she had not realized how much she also relied on the heightening of her senses and the tugs and pushes with Air she used to keep her opponent off-balance... or that simple strand of fire to make her katana blaze. There had always, always been saidar. Fighting without it was... odd. Something was missing, and the gaping hole where part of her being had been pointed out way too clearly what it had been.

 

It took the joy out of fighting.

It took the joy out of everything.

 

There was emptiness in her head, in her heart, in her being.

Lanfir wept, not thinking, not realizing that she was sitting on the scene of a crime in a puddle of blood of her two victims. If she would have been thinking, she probably would not have cared much, either. Because what did it matter, really? She had kept herself well in the past hours, but the loss... the sheer weight of her loss... how could anyone remain standing after a thing like that? Bloodlust had kept her upright before, but now the lust had been quenched, the only quarrel she had at the moment was with Fate and the Creator itself. And how could she do anything but accept that fate?

 

So she wept.

 

~And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?~

 

And that's when someone entered...

 

 

OOC: Lyrics are by Coldplay, "Fix You".

OOC2: Nyssa, your turn, hun :)

[silhouette]

There was a sense of melancholy in the way the events had played out. Expected, and yet… not. Of course the chance of such a thing happening had been greater than most would expect, but still, for it to actually happen now… Well, it startled the White Tower, that was for certain. Shook it on it’s very foundations, by tearing it’s Keeper out of existence. Not that Nyssa had actually seen any of this. When it became known that Caladesh was the one, she had chosen to stay in her rooms, where the touch of the madman could not reach her. Now the madman was caught. Her secrets were safe once more, made safer by the passage she took to reach her destination. Not her final destination by far. No, Nyssa Deschain had many places to go to on this eve of desperation, and few of them were to be revealed to the public eye. Fortunately her sisters from the past had riddled the White Tower with tunnels she could use to avoid detection.

 

Not that she expected to find many Aes Sedai out in the halls now. The White Tower, though not broken, was damaged severely. The loss of Lyanna Sedai would be felt for a long time, but the end that was not the end for Lanfir Leah Marithsen, their Mother… that they would feel for years, as Lanfir wasted away in some desolate corner of the world, out of sight but never out of mind and never out of the Heart of the White Tower. A thorn in their sides. In a way Caladesh’ mad act had wounded the Tower more thoroughly than Nyssa could have anticipated. She sighed softly as she opened a door and pushed aside the rug that hid it. A rarely used corner on a barely used floor of the White Tower. No one walked here, and yet if they did no one would ask why she was present there. After all, was this not simply a visit from a student to her teacher? Did Lanfir not deserve some well-wishes and comfort? But Nyssa did not expect to see anyone. Lanfir had become the thing every Aes Sedai feared. Something Accepted whispered about and something that was used to threaten eager Novices. Burnt out. Forever lost to the One Power. Nyssa would lie if she said the thought didn’t chill her to the bone either.

 

The door to Lanfir’s chambers was unlocked, as Nyssa had expected. No point in protecting the last person people would wish to attack now. What use was a broken woman to the White Tower? “None.†Nyssa whispered. It stung more than she had expected. She had respected Lanfir from the moment she met her on the rooftop for the first time. She respected her still, even now, when the ‘Creator’ had so cruelly proven Nyssa’s point, by not saving is most favoured of children. “I win, you lose…†she whispered, walking further into Lanfir’s strangely empty domain. It seemed like Lanfir had decided she didn’t want to be there either. Her bed was empty, and her Katana was missing from it’s spot. “Vengeance, then? You are a braver woman than I.†She whispered still, though none but the ghosts were there to hear her. Oh well. It was time to see if her ‘Sister’ had done her job properly anyway. If she had, Lanfir would be disappointed. Caladesh’ blood would have been spilled before she ever contemplated risking all she had left on a petty chance to redeem her sense of right and wrong. If her sister hadn’t… well, she would deal with that later.

 

As she walked towards the door, she noticed something special. Lanfir’s coat. She ran her hand over the fur lining, appreciating it’s softness. Without much thought as to why she lifted if off the peg, and held it to her cheek. It smelled of Lanfir. Of home. Of Mother. “A simple reminder…†she whispered, taking it with her. She was quite sure she had left no trace behind, but even if she had… who would know what to look for in the Amyrlin’s private chambers? Taking the safe and secret route down cost her a few extra minutes, but it was best to be sure. Even as she walked and plotted murder she kept Lanfir’s coat close to her chest, not really caring about the few dark hairs that stained her mostly white dress. Nothing Saidar couldn’t deal with when the night was over. Exiting the secret hallways took a little more effort this time. A heavy door, creaking slightly as she opened it. Another peek around the corner to make sure she was alone. Not that she worried. She had snuck through the halls of the tower ever since she was a Novice. She could make a mouse sound like a warhorse in comparison.

 

One last corner to round. Nyssa inhaled deeply, breathing in the faint scent of despair and death and… blood. She almost rolled her eyes. Of course that ninny had made a mess of things. Perhaps it would be best if she rid the Black Ajah of their clumsiest member while she was down here. A little extra confusion for the White Tower to deal with. Nyssa stepped forward… and halted. The sight that greeted her was unexpected, but not unfortunate. Her mind worked swiftly, taking in the current situation, and thinking of ways to use it, if not for her own benefit then at least for the benefit of her darker Ajah. Lanfir Leah Marithsen sat on the floor, in the blood of Caladesh and a useless Black Sister, sobbing. Nyssa lowered her arms, though her heart clenched at the sounds of Lanfir’s sobs. Think. Stay calm. Stay focussed. “Mother…†she spoke aloud, though her voices sounded soft and yet also rough, as if she struggled with the words. “Mother, what have you done?â€

 

~Nyssa Deschain

Gray Sister

Black Ajah Supreme Councilmember

Daughter.