Mail!

[Wayfarer]

There was every now and then a rare morning when the sun struck the White Tower perfectly. Light filtered throughout the Tower naturally, and combined with the crispness of the morning air it was almost idyllic. Not that this was one of those mornings, the clouds overhead were releasing a torrential downpour that showed no sign of letting up. Lillian wished for one of the more idyllic mornings herself as she tried to keep from dragging her feet.

 

It was her own doing really, she had accompanied a friend to see if she had mail, and since she hadn't appeared busy she had found herself carrying mail. It was a common risk for all Novices, even Accepted. But, that was the price for even hinting idleness. Sometimes she couldn't help but wish that things were that little bit easier. Not something to give voice to of course, that would invite a lecture on how it was going to become worse instead of better when she became Accepted.

 

If I become Accepted. Lillian still had to be invited, and she was in her tenth year now. Taei had already been invited once now, then again Taei was stronger in the power than herself. Or maybe her power was just slower to develop, but Lillian had her doubts about that. That was more wishful thinking than anything else. Yet it was better to have some power than none, and it wasn't as if she could stop working with it now that it had been tapped.

 

The Green Ajah quarters were a place she was familiar with. Her mentor was Green Ajah, of all the sisters she had come to know, most of them had been Green. This was a useful thing, for she already knew where the room of Sirayn Sedai was. Pausing outside the door for a moment, Lillian knocked politely and waited.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Novice of the White Tower

[Sirayn]

Forkroot. If properly prepared, an almost undetectable substance identified only by a slight mint taste, which could be added to tea to induce a state of near-complete paralysis. This being a cynical world, its current and specific purpose was to render channellers unable to touch the True Source. Not a function she viewed lightly; it had, after all, come to her attention in a somewhat … striking way. The whole episode had burned itself into her memory with an intensity that still shook her. It would not require much effort at all to call up an intimate and detailed description of the drug’s effects -- the drowsiness, the almost total paralysis, panicky powerlessness to channel, the excruciatingly slow return of feeling and movement. Yes, she was not likely to forget forkroot in a hurry.

 

Also a shipment of same. Right now it was still locked up in an extremely safe place known only to her, in case of small mistakes on the part of anyone else, which was why Sirayn was consulting books and pondering on the many shady possibilities now open to her. Her agents had surpassed themselves in even getting hold of the evil stuff; she should give them a raise, or would if she paid them in the first place. Instead all they got was a cool thanks and their precious cargo taken smartly off their hands. That consignment represented many things. Danger. Opportunity. But most of all … power. Nobody would ever get the drop on her like that again; if anyone was to be poisoned by forkroot in her presence she would be administering it herself. And she could think of a few candidates for a little bit of forkroot treatment.

 

A knock at the door broke her from a satisfyingly vindictive fantasy. She slipped the book she’d been studying into a drawer, stuffed her papers in with it, clearing her desk save for writing implements. No use anyone seeing that she had been studying forkroot. If questioned, she could reply in strict honesty that she had been moved to investigate it after encountering it herself, and it would require a gigantic leap of imagination to think that she actually had some … but it might tip off the wrong sort of people that she was considering her move. Thus presenting the deceptive impression that she had been up to nothing much at all, she banished thoughts of forkroot and called out: “Enter!â€

 

Sirayn Damodred

Head of the Green Ajah

[Wayfarer]

There was only a slight pause before Lillian was called to enter. Keeping her gaze lowered as she opened the door, she quietly closed it behind her before making her way towards Sirayn Sedai who had remained seated. Sirayn Sedai was one of the better known sisters of the Green Ajah, and her own mentor had spoken to her of the sister. By all accounts she was formidable, not to mention a sister that one most certainly did not wish to cross. Not that Lillian was given to such things to begin with, but there were Aes Sedai and then there were Aes Sedai.

 

Stopping but two feet away, Lillian gave Sirayn Sedai a curtsey polished by her years as a Novice before presenting the Green Sister with the unopened letter. As it was taken from her, Lillian folded her hands before her and kept her gaze downward. A useful she had found with Aes Sedai that she didn't know was to, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist until she was spoken to. Make no sound, do not move about, simply wait and in that find a certain measure of safety.

 

That didn't stop her from observing the room about her on the otherhand. It was neat, and like most ajah rooms, the ajah's colours could be found within. The furniture was simple yet dignified, unlike some Aes Sedai there wasn't an excessive waste of wealth to be found in the room. But her observations were quick, she did not want to draw attention to herself after all so her gaze returned to the floor as she waited to be addressed.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Accepted of the White Tower

[Sirayn]

Slim and black-haired, banded skirts, a smooth curtsey and a lowered gaze. The classic Domani good looks reminded her of nothing more than a porcelain doll and combined with such uncanny deference it gave Sirayn the distinct impression that this child was a prettily painted puppet. It was a disturbing thought; she let it go. She had had a penchant for green-eyed women once upon a time … ones full of fire, not downcast eyes, and she no longer wished to indulge such tastes. An odd memory to call up. She still missed Seiaman every day, a loss that had never left her, and some days it took her harder than others.

 

Briefly she contemplated the perfect image of an Accepted, frowning herself, over her still unopened letter. Lily something. Lillian. She had seen the child once or twice before around here … but to the best of her knowledge this was not a Green Ajah aspirant, she knew her future soldiers like the back of her hand, so why would she come across black-haired Domani girls in the Green Ajah halls? “Halvie Sedai.†She plucked the connection from her memory with some effort. Having a long, if somewhat fraught, acquaintance with the other woman made her job a fraction easier; these days she had little to do with young Halvie, but she had not forgotten one particular conversation they had had, many years ago.

 

“Your mentor was no older than you are when she and I first met.†Keeping a covert watch on her visitor she broke the seal and opened the letter in a rustle of paper. It was in her disposition to spin webs as effortlessly and as constantly as other people breathed, and despite the apparent casualness of her tone, she was definitely spinning one now. Halvie was still a name that held a good deal of significance for her. The girl had been an experiment the results of which she had never truly found out. Had it been an accident that her mentee wound up delivering mail here like a particularly dutiful puppy? “Younger, even. Such a promising girl. Pity about … everything.†The extent of that everything she certainly wasn’t going to disclose to untested company.

 

Momentarily she went silent reading the letter. It did not bring good news; letters had a habit of doing that these days. Her mouth had compressed, just a fraction, by the time she reached the end and she folded the letter returning it to its envelope with sharp gestures. Her voice remained steady. “How is she doing? She hasn’t been seen much lately.â€

 

Sirayn Damodred

Retro Head of the Green Ajah

Danger! Schemer!

[Wayfarer]

Her features remaining still as her mentor's name was mentioned, Lillian was quiet as she listened to Sirayn Sedai speak of her. So, Sirayn Sedai had been Aes Sedai when Halvie Sedai was still a Novice, she had known that Sirayn Sedai was older amongst the Sisters but she had never had any idea of how old her own mentor was. Any and all details about Halvie Sedai were nary to be found, from the Aes Sedai herself or elsewhere. Especially after Lillian had tried to dig, but then that had been resolved.

 

The crack of the seal was the only indication Lillian had of Sirayn Sedai helping herself to the mail she had delivered. Silence prevailed for a moment as the Aes Sedai was no doubt reading the letter before Sirayn Sedai gave voice once more to the topic of Halvie Sedai. There was little betrayal in Lillian's face as she responded to the question with a care. "She is well, Sirayn Sedai."

 

As she finished, Lillian contemplated what had been said. Promising girl? A pity? There was more to that but Lillian had a feeling that she had little to no chance of prying such information from the Aes Sedai before her. Certainly not without revealing her intentions and interest, and Halvie Sedai would most certainly not take kindly to that. It was the same reason she had not asked other Green Sisters despite the fact that Green Sisters would be the ones most likely to know more about Halvie Sedai. She wanted to learn more about her mentor, not damage her mentor's prospects and position.

 

It was times like this that Lillian was glad of her habit of keeping her eyes downcast. A submissive gesture, not only did it cause others to overlook her, it also allowed her to keep her thoughts to herself. It was much harder to hide one's thoughts and intentions when a person could peer into another's eyes. Of course, the reverse then applied for Lillian could not see into Sirayn Sedai's. But then, Lillian did not like the idea of pitting herself in such a contest against an Aes Sedai, let alone of of Sirayn Sedai's stature. As a Novice, Lillian knew her place.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Novice of the White Tower

[Sirayn]

Another meek as milkwater response. She was beginning to suspect that Halvie picked colourless, silent novices deliberately so they would not betray her affairs, much as some lords back in the days of barbarism had cut out the tongues of their slaves. No doubt she could provoke the child to utter at least one original thought if she spent all day trying to get a rise, but it would be an unproductive use of her time and effort, and besides which the girl might not know anything of any use anyway. It was just … unsettling the way everything had worked out. Not knowing what was going on made her doubt how much control she retained and, in this particular case, control she very much needed.

 

Gone silent as the grave! Halvie, who had once gone to such lengths to gain her notice, who had portrayed herself as the poster child of potential. Halvie with her dark heart and darker thoughts who had perturbed even the normally imperturbable Sirayn Damodred. How mortifying the whole episode must have been! In hindsight she could just imagine how many hours Halvie had put into making exactly the right approach, extracting some information from her, believing that she held so many secrets … only to dash all her hopes at the last moment by being just a touch too unstable for any sane person to teach. If she had been a better liar she might have gained a great deal more.

 

Sobering thoughts. For all she knew Aramina sur Dulciena was playing her in exactly the same way, only better and more subtly, thanks to that exquisite Cairhienin training. Somehow she doubted that anyone had the same goals though. Nobody else spoke such black words to her; talked of murder, talked of evil. That kind of discussion took some leading up to. This particular novice struck her as too dull to be interested in anything of the sort. Either that or she was up to her own game, an option which Sirayn did not discount, but the play of novices did not concern her over much.

 

One final question though. If she got nothing of any interest she could dismiss the child just as easily, nothing gained, but just as valuable nothing risked. Sirayn continued to contemplate her now closed envelope feigning great interest in the broken seal. “Does your mentor ever speak to you about … games?”

 

Sirayn Damodred

Retro Head of the Green Ajah