From One Den to Another: Attn Mistress of Novices

[raposa]

Get ahold of yourself, Beth.

 

The gray light of predawn lazily illuminated the tiny room she had rented for the last three nights. It consisted of a cot, a small, clouded mirror, a stool that also served as a nightstand, and three wall hooks where she hung the sparse remains of her material belongings--a pair of black leggings, with a black shirt and jacket to match, each dusty from the long road to Tar Valon, a plain gray wool dress divided for riding, and a wrinkled dress of pale yellow silk. Her tools--a knife, lock picks, three vials of poisons of varying degrees of potency, and her money--a silver penny and a few coppers--were carefully hidden under a hole in the far corner of the floor under her cot. Bethelynne lay staring at the slatted ceiling of her very cramped room, trying and failing to muster the strength of will to stop shuddering and to get out of bed.

 

"Don't be an idiot," she said aloud. "You've known this day was coming for nearly three weeks, now. Get up!" Another shudder. It wasn't the thought of getting out of bed that was frightening, nor was it the thought of putting on the same dress she had worn everyday since arriving in Tar Valon at the beginning of the week. No, she was not afraid of the spiraling towers, the beautiful plazas, the fountains, or the gardens, or the stableboy who had caught her stealing a loaf of bread from the kitchen and had said nothing--yet. Beth was afraid of what she had decided she would do today, afraid of the place she intended to go to, the woman she intended to see, the request she would make. "Light! You're such a ninny, Beth!"

 

With one final bout of self-loathing, she pulled the itchy blankets--one would think they'd been woven from straw!--back and forced herself to stand and get dressed. In a matter of minutes, she had squeezed into the yellow dress, tamed what she could of the mess of her hair, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. As she stood looking at herself in the clouded mirror, though, she knew another moment's hesitation that had everything to do with appearance and nothing to do with fear of the unknown. I look like a beggar. The thought came unbidden, but stung all the same. As the granddaughter and apprentice of a diplomat she knew very well the importance of appearances and knew moreso that, with the dirty fingernails, matted hair, and red, haggard eyes, she had little hope of slipping into the novice books unnoticed. For all she planned on saying as little as possible of her past, her appearance screamed, "I have a story that I am not telling, a story I do not want you to know!"

 

She had burned her bridges four weeks ago. A single note left in the designated spot, a carefully placed piece of evidence that would raise eyebrows and spark curiosity where Lady Vixen would much prefer utmost privacy, and a purse of silver crowns in the pocket of the guard who let her slip out of the city annonymously were the only trail Beth had left in her wake. She wasn't sure that the Aes Sedai would be able to use her past against her or to get a foothold in the elusive courts of Far Madding, but she would not risk it. She had spent the last week going over what she would tell them, determining what was best to leave out for her own protection. And after a few innocent questions of the right people, she had learned of the protocol for would-be initiates of the White Tower.

 

All she had to do now was get there, which was, of course, easier said than done.

 

Making her way through the city, she rehearsed her story again and again. The yellow silk didn't allow for completely avoiding notice, but it was plain enough for her to blend in with the crowd. As the dawning sun's first rays touched the tips of the tallest buildings, Bethelynne was passing through the gates and into the inner courtyard of the fabled White Tower. With one more involuntary shudder, she made her way inside.

 

"Are you in need, child?" Beth jumped in spite of herself and blushed immediately. Light, she was very much out of her comfort zone here. A motherly woman of indeterminable age made no attempts to hide the pity in her voice or in her smile as she stood with her arms folded in front of her. She wore a white dress with seven bands of color on the hems and neckline. For a moment, Beth merely stared at her, opening and closing her mouth in search of the words that had suddenly escaped her. The woman must have mistaken her stammering for dim wits. "If you are hungry," she said in practiced tones of patience, "there is a soup kitchen in the city. If you are looking for work, I can take you to see our head cook, Sara. If you are looking for hand-outs, well I'm afraid you have come to the wrong place..."

 

The last bit brought Beth back to her senses, her cheeks heating to a darker shade of red. "I am not a beggar," she said plainly, if slightly terse. "I seek an audience with your Mistress of Novices. I have come to be tested, to have my name entered in the Book of Novices and to study." She straightened to her full height and met the woman's eye, careful to keep all but the slightest hint of challenge out of her voice. "Would you be so kind as to tell me where I might find her?"

 

Oh, Lady, if you could see your little fox now...

[Lavinya]

Whack! The sound of bells tinkled faintly, in contrast to the birch as it whistled through the air and connected with the desk with a loud thwap. The novice seated before the wooden desk jumped at the sound, her eyes wide with fear and trepidation. Faerzyne did not relish the task of punishing the wayward, despite what the girl’s believed. But it was a task she had to fulfil, nonetheless, and she always made certain to do a good job of it, lest she see the perpetrators again soon after their initial visit.

 

Cool hazel eyes surveyed the now quailing novice, her lower lip trembling at the thought of the irch being applied to her more tender flesh. It had been the first time Faerzyne had had the duty to deal with this girl, caught out of her room after curfew. Inclined to believe her story of simply losing track of time in the library, Faerzyne had refrained for birching the girl, or even giving her a chore. On this occasion, a sharp scare out to do the trick. Whack! the birch struck the wooden desk again, and the frightened novice shrank back further in the uncomfortable chair. “I don’t need to tell you the importance of curfew again, do I child?†She asked, a wry twist to her mouth. The girl shook her head hurriedly, and Faerzyne nodded briefly, causing the bells in her long braids to tinkle once more. “I thought not. Now off with you child. I do not want to see you in this office again, understood?†The novice, now pale with fright scrambled out of her chair, mumbling apologies and curtseying, even as she dashed to the door.

 

With a sigh, Faerzyne returned the birch to it’s place in her cupboard, before moving to sit behind her desk. Closing her eyes briefly, she felt a tingle as one of her wards was breached, the resulting knock causing her to open her eyes. The day was young, and already it was proving to be a testing day. “Enter.†She called, following the command with a weave of air which opened the door, much to the obvious shock of the girl who stood on the other side. Not clothed as an initiate, an outsider, or petitioner perhaps. Waving her in, Faerzyne regarded her with a smooth, though not unkind face. “My name is Faerzyne Grigory, and I am the Mistress of Novices here at the Tower. How can I help you?â€

 

 

Faerzyne Grigory, MoN

OOC: Not sure if you had planned for someone to meet and take you, so if you need me to edit anything let me know :)

[raposa]

"I... I..." Stammering was quickly becoming Bethelynne's signature response to any questions aimed at her, followed closely by blushing. The world was spinning around her so quickly; everything was changing so rapidly. Were there any doors closed in her relatively near future, or had she seen the end of locks and bars? Light! The revelation of the sheer potential of her new beginning was almost too much for her, so much, even, that she was surprised she hadn't exploded. Lucky for her--and the stern woman whose eyes had Beth nailed to the floorboards--stammering was the extent of her outward reactions. And blushing.

 

"I apologize.. Mistress..." She stopped and cleared her throat, brushed the hair out of her face. "I apologize. You must think me an imbecile as all I seem capable of today is making a fool of myself." She smiled sheepishly and bit her lip, not sure if she should move further into the room, into her future, or if she should wait for an invitation. As she received none, she swallowed hard--why was her throat so dry?--and spoke the words that would effectively seal her fate. "I wish to be entered into the book of novices. I... I.... would like to study here, i-in the White Tower, with you... and the Aes Sedai."

 

She realized she was sweating, that sweat had beaded on her forehead and drops were moving slowly down into her face, but didn't trust herself to make a move. This moment, she knew was very, very significant. It would be better not to ruin it by fainting.

 

OOC: I set-up Beth's bio as the interview that ensues. If you want to take a look at it, maybe we could cut and paste it into here? Not sure what the procedure for this is, exactly. :)

 

My bio

[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 Bethelynne 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. It seemed the silence oppressed the girl, because soon she began to speak.

 

(OOC this is the original bio.)

 

"There are very few things I have done to be proud of, Aes Sedai, and many more that cause me shame. I would prefer it if this could be something of a second chance, a fresh start, if you will, rather than the next chapter in the life of a malcontent. I have suffered much so that my past might remain where I left it: many, many miles behind me.

This moment, this place is not something I had imagined for myself even one month ago, but as your Sisters are so fond of saying--the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. And while the price of passage from my old life into my new is proving to be much higher than I had expected, I am afraid this is my only option. Frankly, I have reached my wits' end; I am at the end of my rope. Goodness, I'm so flustered I

forgot to even introduce myself. Where are my manners?

 

"My name is Bethelynne--Beth for short--and, as you can tell, I am relatively new to your most beautiful city. I arrived here very early this morning after a very long and very unpleasant trip and now regret

my decision to do little more than wash my face and run a comb through my hair before seeking an audience with you. For all the stains on my dress and the dirt under my fingernails, I tell you I am not a street urchin. Honestly, I do not think my own grandmother would recognize the young woman seated before you. Light, I hardly recognize myself. It is frightening to think of how much has changed.

 

"If you think I am too old to be an initiate of your White Tower, I swear on my mother's grave that I have seen sixteen too-short summers and seventeen too-long winters. I was born and raised in Far Madding. As a result, the thought of learning to do what you do, Aes Sedai--learning to channel--is not exactly within my comfort zone. I have had goose pimples since the day I woke up and realized my search for self-redemption was leading me here. I am trying very hard not to empty my stomach on your beautifully woven rug.

 

"I do not particularly want to talk about my past, but I understand you need to know something of my life before today. Suffice it to say I am the product of careful planning, strict instruction, and

many, many lies. While I may have begun my letters and numbers a bit earlier than most children, my true education began the first time my guardian told me to lie on her behalf. In light of my new beginning, I would like to avoid most of the details. My guardian...I would really

prefer not to use her real name...was a very shrewd woman and used every tool at her disposal in order to ensure her family's place at the head of the political dinner table would remain well established in the minds of her peers.

 

"She loved me in her own way, and, while I cannot help but disagree with her methods - who tutors a child in the art of poison, forgery, and

deception? - I do not resent her for doing what she thought was in the best interest of our family. When we played our little games, when she would leave a note in our secret spot that had instructions for me, she called me her Little Fox and I called her Lady Vixen. It was innocent enough, at first.

 

My Little Fox, Mistress Clara has baked your favorite tarts for Elle's birthday party

this evening. She's hiding them in the back of the pantry. Take two and bring one to me in the water gardens. Do not let yourself be caught or I will be very unhappy with you.

Lady Vixen

 

"Although I would not go so far as to say I was happy, I can say that I was cared for and that is more than many can say. Up until my last six months under that roof, I had no doubts where my next meal would come from or whether or not I would have a place to sleep at night. No, my doubts dwelled in deeper, much darker corners of what I now know as my heart.

 

"The first time I killed for her was on my thirteenth birthday. She never explained herself to me, unless, of course, it was to make sure I knew exactly what she expected of me: complete trust. Two drops from a vial carefully concealed in the sleeve of my pretty, pink dress were discreetly added to the glass of a woman I only knew as being very

close to the Vixen and by the end of the week, she died from what seemed to be a rare and violent stomach virus. I was unsettled, yes, but my eagerness to please my flesh and blood overwhelmed whatever reservations I would otherwise have heeded.

 

"I would like to say I left of my own accord, but that would be too big of a lie for even such an experienced liar as myself. I suppose Lady Vixen never considered for a second that her Little Fox might develop a conscience. If she had, she certainly had never expected me to develop a crush on a certain young man of less-than-noble bloodlines. I may not have loved him - how does one know such things? - but he was certainly a distraction that Lady Vixen had no tolerance for. I still do not know how she knew anything of my

interests in Jory, but she made it very clear that such interests did not coincide with her own.

 

"She was so sure it was Jory who told me what I was doing for her was wrong, that it was Jory who forced my sudden change of heart. How could she - who had no conscience, no sense of right or wrong, only a

sense of gain and loss - how could she understand what I was feeling was all of the guilt that had been building up inside my slowly-awakening heart? She told me in no uncertain terms that I could not see him and that there would be consequences if I disobeyed her. Seeing as how I was fifteen years old at the time, I was desperate to rebel against something. And as I had never allowed myself to feel any of the anger I had a right to feel towards her - how could she use me so casually? I was just a girl! - Lady Vixen and I were both in for a surprise.

 

"She could have simply had him roughed up a bit, had him held in a cellar somewhere for a day or two to encourage him to invest his clumsy affections on someone closer to his status. I never saw his body, could not - Excuse me, could I borrow a handkerchief? Thank you - I could not allow her the pleasure of knowing she had broken my heart. After all I had done for her, all I had given, she ripped from my breast the slightest beatings of my heart. And for what? To prove a point, she said: Lady Vixen is not to be disobeyed.

 

"I only knew of one way to get back at her, as killing her was our of the question. The next morning, I was on the road and headed away, any way so long as it was not her way anymore. You may think it to be a bit melodramatic, and I would be inclined to agree. But, as my mother once told me, 'For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.'

 

"So. I am here because I also wish to prove my own point: I am finished being her cute fuzzy puppy - literally. I am nearly a woman and have been treated as anything but for nearly seventeen years and I am ready for something more. Even if, as I desperately hope, Irony pokes his head in and I do not have the ability to do what you do, Aes Sedai, I plan to stay here and learn everything you and your Sisters can teach me. If you would have me, that is."

 

Faerzyne remained silent throughout. It appeared the child had been through quite a bit in her few years. It would be just the tip of the iceberg, if she could indeed channel. 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 Bethelynne 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.”

 

Faerzyne, MoN

[raposa]

OOC: By Lavinya's permission, I've done a bit of NPC work with Faerzyne to ensure a smooth transition into the next stage of the RP. I've also brought my lovely mentor in. Again, if I've taken liberties that exceed my due I will gladly edit accordingly.

 

IC: The words struck Bethelynne like an arrow. She flinched, pulling her hands away from Faerzyne's out of reflexive fear and turned infinitely inward. You can learn to channel. The truth and its resulting consequences reverberated inside of her skull, straining her already strained mind, pulling at her very tired heart and demanding her last breath. But she couldn't find her breath at all. In fact, even breathing as hard as she could--which she realized she was doing--she could not get enough air into her lungs. The words echoed again and again, crashing against her consciousness and sending the room spinning, shrinking.

 

"Did you hear me, child? You can channel. Your journey here has not been in vain." Beth, dumb as a cow, looked at Faerzyne placidly before slipping out of the chair and onto the floor where she collapsed into a heap of exhaustion and self-loathing.

 

It wasn't until she woke up in the infirmary that she realized she had actually done the unthinkable on the first day of the rest of her life. An oozing shame threatened to send her back into blackness once more, but voices she did not recognize held her in the here and now.

 

"...And she's been here how long?" A cool voice, an autumn wind that spoke of summer and of winter at the same time.

 

"She came to me only an hour ago, Isra Sedai. She wishes to train and has travelled far to have that chance." Faerzyne. "I think maybe she would do well under your guidance, Isra. She has heart."

 

A pause. "I see." A sigh. "Very well then. I shall be here when she wakes."

 

"The Light see that you are. Accepted Liza said she should come around shortly. Between the heightened stress and the long road here, she was due for a good fainting." Beth stirred involuntarily, betraying her awareness and putting an abrupt halt to the assumed-to-be-private conversation and her eavesdropping thereof. "Ah, yes. She's coming around already. That's my cue to leave. Farewell, Isra."

[Isra]

OOC: Can you describe Beth's physical appearance for me? =) I couldn't find it in the RP, but might be blind. Your response will probably necessarily be short, but if you just have Beth wake up and tell Isra she is ready to go, we'll begin the tour!

 

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The note lay unfinished before her, a sentence dead on the word “Blight”, and Isra staring unseeing at the painting above her desk. She’d been distracted more often than not since her return, an affliction that hadn’t affected her before. It was the book, she knew. Nothing had caused fear in her like the contents of that book.

 

Giving up the note as lost, she stood and laid the pen on her desk. She’d tried not a few times to write missives to her various contacts within the Tower, those she’d maintained before she left and who had a right to know of her return, without success. She stalled always when her narrative arrived at her time in the Blight, and even though she kept secret most of what had occurred there, memories overwhelmed.

 

The door to her study rattled suddenly as someone rapped sharply on it. Thankful to leave her thoughts and writing behind, she turned to answer it. A novice stood on the other side, humbly proffering a note. She did not recognize the handwriting.

 

Thanking the child, she took the slip of paper and turned it carefully. It was not from Taya, nor Josefina, nor Adelade. Closing her eyes for a long moment, she unfolded the thing carefully, as though it might have teeth. She was waiting, always waiting for the day a note would read “I want to see the book”.

 

But this one was harmless, from a woman who was now Mistress of Novices, a sister Isra recalled only very vaguely from the time before. She bid the White come and welcome the new novice she was to mentor, although she had the location down, peculiarly, as the infirmary.

 

Just arrived and already ill? Isra thought, with some sense of disappointment. She hoped the child would not have to be hand-held through homesickness or a weak disposition. If that were the case she would request the girl’s transfer into the care of a Yellow mentor, and have done with her.

 

Burning the note – habit now, to burn everything - Isra straightened her skirts and made for the infirmary. She found Faerzyne Sedai standing over the girl she was to mentor, her eyes warm enough to be called sympathetic. The child herself was dressed in yellow silk, although the garment was wrinkled, and her hair slightly mussed. Isra could not place her.

 

“What happened?” She inquired, laying slim fingers on the girl’s wrist. She’d had some skill in Healing, had spent many hours in the infirmary, but all that skill had come to naught when Gavrin had been felled by a Trolloc. Besides, the Yellow attendant had already mended this one.

 

“She fainted. After I told her she could channel.” A slight twist in the Mistress of Novices’ lips.

 

“Hm. She comes from…?”

 

“Far Madding.”

 

Isra did not react to this piece of information, although she found it to be the most important thing in regards to the girl. “And she’s been here how long?”

 

"She came to me only an hour ago, Isra Sedai. She wishes to train and has traveled far to have that chance. I think maybe she would do well under your guidance, Isra. She has heart."

 

"I see." The White sighed quietly. "Very well then. I shall be here when she wakes."

 

"The Light see that you are. Accepted Liza said she should come around shortly. Between the heightened stress and the long road here, she was due for a good fainting." The girl stirred slightly, and Faerzyne turned. "Ah, yes. She's coming around already. That's my cue to leave. Farewell, Isra."

 

The Mistress of Novices moved away through the infirmary, skirts trailing her. The Accepted in question hovered nearby, in case Isra should summon her, but the White was studying the child before her.

 

“Up with you, girl,” she said, her voice cool. Time to determine how much of the girl was nonsense, and how much true trauma and stress. “We’ve rooms for you in the Tower, and novice gowns, and I will conduct you on a small tour of the Gardens, kitchen and library if you’ll but wake.”

 

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[raposa]

OOC: Merry Christmas. :)

 

IC: Trying her best to pretend her head was not swimming, that her dark hair was not a rat's nest, and that her dress was not dirty and wrinkled, Bethelynne sat up slowly and nervously brushed a strand of hair out of her face. The woman, Isra, looked at her appraisingly, though appearing--so far as Beth could tell--utterly unimpressed. Beth doubted her arrival would spark much conversation in the Tower this day, but she was certain that her fainting had not gone unremarked. This woman, and her Sisters with her, must think Beth a complete ninny. Light, but she wished she could disagree with them.

 

What's done is done. The Wheel moves forward with or without you.

 

She swallowed hard and averted her dark-eyed gaze demurely, not sure if she was supposed to introduce herself, but feeling awkard in the silence that surrounded the beginning of what she feared would become an important relationship. She decided to follow the Aes Sedai's lead. If the woman, if Isra wanted Beth's name, she would ask for it. Pulling the thin blanket back, she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and rose to her feet, wincing when her dismount sent the room spinning once more.

 

"Yes, Aes Sedai," she said quietly. "Please forgive my poor manners. I am... I suppose I am every bit of the newborn fawn today, in more ways than one. If these legs seem a bit shaky, it's because they've not carried such a burden as I now carry on my shoulders."

 

OOC: I left her physical appearance pretty basic so I could expound on it as I see fit. Dark hair (wavy?), dark eyes (blue-green), average height and weight (not quite chubby, but a bit of flesh to her). Not homely, but not strikingly beautiful in anyway. Olive complexion. Body language speaks of self-condifence, kept in check by her introverted, introspective personality. :)

[Isra]

OOC: Same to you =)

 

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The Far Madding girl pushed herself from the infirmary cot slowly, smoothing a strand of her dark hair from her face. Isra noticed that she had not worked herself into a snit over the wrinkled silk or the mussed hair, and counted it a point in the girl’s favor. She was not presentable according to the standards of the White Tower – far from it, and should she show up in such a state in any of her classes Isra was sure her teacher would give her a scolding – but there was something like courage in the fact that the child could face an Aes Sedai and, though not at her best, act as though she were.

 

“Yes, Aes Sedai,” said the girl, going on the beg forgiveness for poor manners and excusing her nerves. Isra raised her brows at the last line, wondering if it was a throwback to the Far Madding opinions of channeling, but let it lie for the moment.

 

“Let us walk a bit then and remind your legs of their use. The Tower is a large place, so pay attention. You will want to commit as much of what I show you today to memory, for even the new girls are punished for tardiness and not everyone can be bothered to give directions even when asked.” Waiting for the girl to find her feet and reassure herself that she could walk without falling, Isra led the way from the Infirmary and on towards the seamstress.

 

“You will be in white from now on, until you gain the shawl of an Aes Sedai. Novices wear dresses of unrelieved white, Accepteds have gowns with banded hems. Here now, let the seamstress measure you for your clothing.” Isra paused, giving the girl over into the care of the sewing woman, who took her measurements quickly and handed over three gowns to be worn in the meantime. Shoes and shifts accompanied the gowns.

 

“She’ll send for you when she has finished the dresses that are sewn to your exact measurements, but in the meantime do not let yourself be seen unless you are dressed in one of those.” Isra paused, allowing her instructions to sink in. The girl seemed clever despite her nerves, and the White somehow doubted she would have to tell her many things twice.

 

“Onwards then, to the kitchens. Mind the way, so you can retrace the path.” The way was winding, and at regular intervals other hallways spun off, or spiraling staircases or niches with carven things. The heat and clanging noises of pots and pans and cutlery gave away the kitchens, and soon enough the Aes Sedai and her charge were party to the chaos. “You’ll scrub pots here, or the great cauldrons, or the ovens. Sometimes you will be called on to serve food, or even cook it, or gut fish or peel potatoes – there are a number of things that will require your presence in the kitchens. And at mealtimes here is where you will find your food, and through that door is the great hall of tables where you can sit to eat.

 

“Explore if you will, or we may continue the tour. If you are hungry, any of the fruits in that bin are yours for the taking.”

 

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OOC: Going to stop here in case you want to go through and have Beth react to the seamstress and the kitchens, etc. =) When you’re ready, feel free to have Isra ask whether Beth’d rather see the garden or the library next and we shall move on!

[raposa]

As the unlikely pair made their way from this room to that corridor and down another set of stairs, Isra leading without sparing more than the occasional glance over her shoulder and Beth struggling to take everything in at once, Bethelynne felt more and more out of place. The tall marble walls, the endless polished stone floors, the ancient tapestries, the novices in white scurrying from one task to the next, the Aes Sedai floating, sauntering, and stalking past them with barely a glance; everything served as a testimony against her. The homesickness that she had kept in check was now a hole in her heart.

 

Who was she to even aspire to have the smallest part in anything that happened there everyday? There was so much prestige, so much power and influence and endless potential for greatness that she was sure the footsteps echoing in these halls were not her own. History was most definitely being made with every breath any woman breathed within the White Tower. How could Beth, a silly runaway, a teenager with more angst than true character, how could she be so quickly swept into all of this?

 

I can channel. The revelation struck her again, though she maintained better composure in the face of this second wave of shock. She held the tide at bay, knowing she could not afford to let her mind wander down that road. Isra Sedai was explaining where this corridor led to and Beth, weary from the phsyical and emotional journey of the last month, was struggling to commit as much information to memory as possible. Light, but she was hungry.

 

As if she had read her mind--Light, could Aes Sedai really read minds?--Isra abruptly turned at the next corner and led them to the kitchens. Beth's mouth watered uncontrollably as the aromas of fresh baked bread and roasting mutton washed over her. Isra was explaining about chores and menial tasks that the novices performed daily, but Beth had only a mind for the food that begged her to eat her fill. Never mind etiquette and respect and proper place, this was life or death!

 

“Explore if you will, or we may continue the tour. If you are hungry, any of the fruits in that bin are yours for the taking.”

 

Thank the Light Isra was not completely unaware of the glint of desparation in Beth's eyes and posture. Without further invitation, Beth grabbed an apple and nearly swallowed it whole. She was later shamed when she realized how savagely she devoured the first and second apple (and the sweet cheese pastry a kind-faced woman offered her). For the moment, though, her hunger was all she had a mind for. If Isra--who declined a pastry herself--was surprised or, Light forbid, disgusted, she hid it well and allowed the girl to eat before ushering her out.

 

"You may take an apple with you if you so desire, child, but there is much more to do before the day is through. Shall we?" It was then that Beth's cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She wiped the juices from her face on a rag, a perfect portrait of sheepishness as she offered a humble apology. Isra nodded in return. "Very well. We can make our way to the library or the gardens. Which would you prefer to visit first?"

 

Beth, still blushing, was caught off guard by the simple question. Pursing her lips in thought, she set the now dirty rag down. "I..." She cleared her throat. "I would very much like to see the library, Aes Sedai. I have heard much more of your library than of your gardens."

[Isra]

OOC: I am sorry this took so long. I didn't realize until the other day that you had responded for some reason. Oi!

 

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Isra smiled at the admission, that the library was better-known than the gardens. Indeed, Tar Valon boasted the largest library in the world, with books and tomes and scrolls older surely than time itself. New novices nearly always chose to visit the library first, never thinking that many of their waking hours would be spent in its dark and looming halls, under the watchful eyes of Brown sisters.

 

Acquiescing to the request, Isra turned the girl in the direction of the great library, a separate building from the Tower that was nonetheless attached to the great ivory spire. The pair filed through the Tower, winding their way through curtsying novices and respectful Accepted. Isra gave greetings to Nidori when she passed, the woman a fellow sister of the Whites who possessed both fiery and wintry personalities in full measure. Isra had since learnt that it had been a difficult choice for Nidori, between White and Green, and if any Ajahs were further apart Isra couldn’t name them.

 

She wondered musingly about the novice at her side. It would be many years before Beth would gain the shawl – or even the banded dress and serpent ring, for that matter – but at some point in the future there would be Ajahs vying for her. Her personality did not point to any one in particular yet, but the young girls rarely showed signs until they had at least reached Acceptance. Many giggled over joining the Greens and bonding thousands of Warders, but in the end they did not all choose to bind themselves to the sisters of swords.

 

The arching doorway of the library was before them suddenly, and Isra nodded to the Brown stationed there. “That is Lidyan Sedai. She has eyes sharper than a falcon’s; don’t dare be caught stealing books under her watch.” She smiled slightly, her words a jest. Not that Lidyan would not punish harshly a thief of books, but Isra doubted Beth would willingly steal. But then, what did she know of her?

 

“Here it is…the library of Tar Valon. Look your fill, touch if you wish, but do not take. You will enter by that door over there,” she gestured to the novices’ entrance, along one of the side walls, “if you are entering by your own will. If an Aes Sedai has sent you, you may come in as we did. And the librarians will know the difference.” She nudged the girl forward, willing her to explore.

 

Isra allowed her gaze to roam across the vaulted ceilings, scanning the rows and rows of books, settling lightly on two sisters in deep conversation in a far corner. Gia and Simran, one a White, the other a Grey. Interesting. She allowed Beth to wander as she willed, finally deciding to strike up a conversation with Lidyan while her charge explored the grand room.

 

She was agreeing that new novices were scarce as of late, and that recruiting expeditions ought to be sent out more regularly when Beth returned to her side. With murmured thanks for Lidyan, she set her regard on the novice. “Well, have you enjoyed the library? I can show you the gardens if you wish, or we can repair to your room that you may enjoy some peace on your last afternoon of freedom.”

 

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[raposa]

It wasn't the sight of hundreds of thousands of books that struck Beth, nor was it the ornately decorated lamp stands or the tiled floors. For whatever reason, it was the musty smell of ancient scrolls and tomes, the smell of knowledge and learning that assaulted her as she made her way through the rows and rows of shelves full of books, scrolls, and encyclopedias. She could feel at least one set of Aes Sedai eyes on her at all times--Isra had said the Browns were watchful--but Beth was too focused on the abundance of paper and ink to let it bother her.

 

It didn't take long for her to find a book that caught her attention--Far Madding: City of the Guardian--but just as she reached out to take it, an invisible switch struck her wrist. Letting out a yelp, she jumped back, assuming a defensive stance. "Look, don't touch, girl." The husky voice of a husky Brown was dripping with over-protectiveness and disdain for those she deemed untrustworthy. "What business do you have here and where is your Aes Sedai escort? This is not the Tar Valon public library. There are strict rules to follow if you wish to so much as look at the book, much less read it..."

 

Beth spent her first visit to the White Tower library being lectured. She escaped by a stroke of purest luck. A novice, unsupervised because this husky woman was so focused on berrating Beth, dropped a particularly heavy book on the floor, damaging its binding. The Brown visibly cringed before rounding on the poor soul and Beth slipped away while she had the chance.

 

She found Isra, thankfully, with little trouble, and waited for her to finish a conversation she was having with another Aes Sedai. Beth, wanting no more than to make a better impression on her new mentor than she had already, chose not to mention the lecture. "Yes, Aes Sedai," she said meekly. "I am awestruck, really. So much knowledge in one place hardly seems possible. It would take several lifetimes to read it all, but my mind is dying of thirst already." She smiled and smoothed her skirts. "But, yes, I would very much like to see my room. I greatly appreciate your time and the tour, but I would prefer it if I could keep my faintings today to a minimum. Once is more than enough, I think."

[raposa]

*bump*

 

OOC: I'm back and would love to continue my RPing, if you're up to it of course. :)