A New Life in a Twisted Land (Ayrik's Arrival)

[Quibby]

Chachin had come and gone, giving Ayrik Drayven his final hint. Go north. Somebody would meet him. It hadn't taken much to see the apparent fear that the Friends had of him. More specifically, of what he could do. Ayrik himself wasn't too comfortable with the idea. He could channel. He could touch the One Power. The tainted half, saidin. Everybody knew that it had been stained such when that fool the Dragon had sealed the Great Lord back in his prison, a parting gift, so to say. But the seals were weakening, and the Great Lord was becoming stronger. He would break free; Ayrik had no doubt of that. It had taken the Creator to bind the Great Lord in the beginning, and man could not rival what the Creator had done in his foolishness.

 

Taking pause from his thoughts, Ayrik surveyed the land around him. It was a bit cooler in Kandor than it was in Tar Valon, but the wind carried some heat and moisture. The Blight. He was close.

 

The Shadow had many servants. The Friends of the Dark, the Shadowspawn, the Chosen, all bound in some way to the Great Lord. Ayrik had been raised a Darkfriend, ready to give his life if the Great Lord ordered it. And he had been given an opportunity to do great things for the Great Lord. Despite the risk of the taint, it would be worth it. The power... it was intoxicating, and he hadn't even taken his first steps. What would it be like when he could use it at will?

 

Ayrik never noticed the man who joined him as he continued north. One moment he was alone, and the next, there was a man walking alongside him. Despite his surprise, Ayrik managed to move his hands in the signs shown to him by the Circle in Chachin as he said, "Hello, friend," his voice deep and quiet. Shouting was not Ayrik's nature, and his voice reflected that, smooth and calm.

 

"I'm no friend of yours. What is your business?" the man replied, his voice eerily cold and emotionless. However, at the same time, the man's hands moved slightly, a gesture that said they could speak openly. However, Ayrik was sure that the man was looking for any reason to kill him. Caution seemed to be the way to go.

 

"I have talents that need training, training that I cannot find anywhere else." Ayrik was suddenly struck with a thought. What if this man could channel? With a small grin, Ayrik added, "We may not be friends, but we are the same, you and I. You should be able to tell that by now." He hoped. There was little written about channeling, and Ayrik didn't know if it was possible for one channeler to sense the ability in another. Ayrik knew how fine a line he was walking. Stray but a little, and the man before him would kill him.

 

The man seemed to be examining him, as if sizing Ayrik up for a coffin. An unsettling thought. He finally spoke again. "You're right. Interesting. Come with me, and don't slow me down. If you would have continued on this path, you would have run right into a Kandori Blight patrol, and that would have ended your aspirations in a hurry. We'll rest in a little hideout of ours until nightfall, and we'll cross into the Blight under cover of darkness. From there, it'll be several days to the stronghold."

 

With a nod, Ayrik followed. As they walked, the man spoke once more. "By the way, I don't feel like dying at the hands of an untrained boy, so you'll be spending this trip shielded. That way, I don't have to worry about you touching the Source again until you're being taught. Welcome to the rest of your life."

 

*****************

 

Despite everything he had read or heard, Ayrik's journey through the Blight was rather uneventful. It was as if it could sense the passing of one who would not tolerate its trickery. Ayrik's companion- a man named Maldor- never seemed to rest; his eyes were always shifting, always watching for what might come. Occasionally, a putrid tree or swollen bush would burst into flame for no apparent reason. Maldor would simply shrug and move on, unconcerned.

 

They had finally come to a stone structure that seemed out of place. Maldor seemed to regard the place as home or something similar. With the only emotion that he had shown throughout the trip, Maldor looked at Ayrik with something like sadistic glee. "Welcome, Ayrik Drayven. By the time you're done here, the Blight will seem the more pleasant of the two places. The Great Lord have mercy on you."

 

Ayrik Drayven

Acolyte

[Liitha]

M'bela walked through the halls, she had memories flash through her mind at every step, some more ancient then others. This was her learning ground, and where she later helped lead other on her path. Her steps directed her down into the halls where the initiates lived, a new had come in earlier in the day. She was aware he had been served lunch on his room and by now should have rested a couple hours, it was time to give him the tour of this place that he wouldnt get lost on his own.

 

She knocked on the door and then entered looking at the new acolyte. "Come with me now i will give you a brif oversigth of the place so you can get yourself around" She turned and started walking, "this section you are in is where the initiates is housed.." she pointed to a stair going down "that lead down to the first floor where the adepts are found, you can also reach the libary by going through their halls. " she lead him up a stair he would find himself down there soon enough, " up here is some of the upper classrooms and it also has a bigger hall where weaves can be practised, though often you will find classes outdoor as well as it means less mess."

 

She looked back to see how well he followed and then walked down a stair pointing to another set of stairs "those leads down to the cellar, you will find classes as well in the first level cellar as an acolyte and some in the second, dont go beyond that." Pointing at a door "that leads to the entrance hall, there is doors out as well a stair up to the part of the fortress where you will find the dreadlords, should you attend private classes there you will rescive instuctions on how to get to the asigned room. " she walked through another door, knowing full well that the tour had taken them over an hour. " Behind me is the door into the mess hall where you can find your meals with the other intiates, are there any questions? if not i will leave you so you can attend dinner and meet your peers"

 

She waited to hear if he had anything to ask, she herself had other things to be doing as well.

[Quibby]

Ayrik knew that he would have much expected of him by those in charge of his training. Becoming one of those who would lead, who would kill in the name of the Great Lord was not an honor to be bestowed upon those who did not deserve it. There was ambition to Ayrik's thoughts, but it did not burn. Ayrik was cold. Too much emotion clouded the mind. He had to be sharp. To be sharp, he had to be at his peak.

 

Which was why he was asleep.

 

The knock at his door was startling, but not unexpected. Twisting about to the edge of the bed, Ayrik didn't have a chance to stand before the door opened, admitting a surprisingly tall woman. She took a moment to examine Ayrik before ordering him to follow. A slight hesitation was all that betrayed the unease that Ayrik felt, but he did as he was bidden.

 

With a gait and clipped manner of speech that implied that she had business elsewhere, the woman led Ayrik through the building. Dormitories, the library, classrooms. Ayrik mentally marked each feature that the woman mentioned, paying special attention to the location of the library. Passing through the Adept quarters would probably be a bit risky, as they were likely to lord their authority over him. And Ayrik was not interested in being lorded over by anybody but the Great Lord.

 

As they came to the end of their tour, the woman said, "Behind me is the door into the mess hall where you can find your meals with the other intiates, are there any questions? if not i will leave you so you can attend dinner and meet your peers."

 

With a small shrug, Ayrik answered, "When do I begin learning, Mistress? It's what I'm here for."

[Liitha]

M'bela tilted her head at the question, an eager one it seemed. "You will be resiving instructions of your first class where you will get help past any blocks and learn to grasp saidin and hold it. After that there will be other classes to learn you basic control as well as theoretical classes, there is more then mastering of the one power that you will need to learn to become one of our kin." She let the words sink in "and not all live to see the day either, not all have what it takes, time will tell your faith" she turned and walked away. There where some who migth doth upon their pupils like the witches, waiting till they where ready, but batle never asked you if you where ready for it, in the shadow you where ready when time fell short for you or you died, cause the ligth was not the only enemy batle figth within the shadow was just as dangerous if not more.

[Quibby]

There was a lot of unspoken threat in the Dreadlady's words. There was no other explaination for her actions or words. As the woman finished, Ayrik bowed his head respectfully. He held no illusions as to his position here. He was at the bottommost rung of a very tall ladder. One day, though, that would not be the case. One day, they would learn to fear him. However, that day was still far off. He'd have to start small. A small, cool smile crossed Ayrik's face. This was the dining hall, after all. People spoke while eating. He could begin finding the right levers to push, the right lines to pull, to play with these people. They could be useful.

 

Stepping into the dining hall, Ayrik assumed a look of internal concentration and strode smoothly across the hall. Despite his size, he had to appear unthreatening. Filling a tray, Ayrik found a secluded spot and situated himself, still seemingly lost in thought. Eating slowly, he listened to those around him, picking out important phrases, building mental models. It was never too early to prepare oneself.

[Myth]

Drak noticed the new meat as soon as he walked through the door. Three things made it impossible. First, Drak paid attention to anything new here, because not doing so meant death might be the only thing he would have left to discover firsthand. Second, or rather an addendum to the first reason, Drak’s position just inside the hall’s main entry way with his back to the wall made it easy to see who came and went without being easily noticed. This also made continued life here much more likely. Lastly, the new meat was a big fellow. He would have stood out nearly anywhere based on his size alone.

 

As Drak continued to eat, he carefully observed the new guy’s behavior. He didn’t miss a bite though, because despite all the other potential horrors to befall you here the food was without exception excellent. It was an informative lesson. The new guy was doing all the right things. He played it cool, stayed quiet, and was obviously keeping his ears open while avoiding direct eye contact with anyone. He obviously had some brains in that big head of his.

 

Waiting until the right moment, Drak caught the new man’s eye. With a wink and a tiny smile, he subtly raised his glass. Perhaps his acquaintance would be mutually beneficial in the future.

[Quibby]

Ayrik assumed that the concept of using people was not going to be a new thing to these people. As a matter of fact, it was probably one of the untaught lessons of the place. There were more people than just him observing and plotting in these halls. The thought brought another cold smile to Ayrik's face. These people would have that in common with him, it seemed. However, he refused to believe that anyone could come close in their manipulative abilities to what he could do. Time is on my side, Ayrik thought. Use it wisely.

 

There was one other loner in the room that caught Ayrik's attention. Like him, he was seated a short distance from everybody else, his back situated against a wall. It was a well-chosen location, as well, near the entry to the hall, inconspicuous. Despite the easy demeanor that he exuded, Ayrik got the distinct impression that the man was waiting for him to make a false move, anything that could be used against him. Ayrik had no intention of giving him that.

 

Crowds bothered Ayrik, so he ate relatively quickly, his eyes shifting between people, often returning to the man by the door. One of those times, the man caught him. Instead of any one of the myriad of reactions that Ayrik was expecting, the man gave him a barely discernable smile and a quick wink, his glass raised slightly in greeting. Perhaps he had passed some test or another in the man's books. His eyes locked onto the other man's, Ayrik nodded, a slight inclination of his head, and returned his attention to the remainder of his meal.

 

Polishing off the last of his meal, Ayrik left his tray on his table and strolled towards the door, deftly dodging the other men and women in the room. It was a bit of a gamble, he knew, but it would be worth it. An ally, no matter how temporary, would be useful in this place. He couldn't allow the other man to think him a timid newcomer, either. That would be suicide. The timid had no place in the Shadow. As he drew abreast of the other man's table, Ayrik paused and looked at the other man directly. Then, without a second thought, he altered his course. Arriving at the other man's table, Ayrik waited for him to notice his presence before addressing him, his voice cool and calm. "Greetings. I'm Ayrik Drayven, formerly of Tar Valon. Is this seat taken?"

[Myth]

As the new man finished his meal and made his way toward the door, Drak made sure to keep an eye on him. More specifically, he kept the corner of an eye on him. Staring could draw more than one kind of negative reaction here, and in the best possible scenario it would at least draw attention. He wanted neither to happen just yet.

 

The new meat obviously was intelligent, but he was an unknown factor in the deadly dance that took place daily here in the heart of the Shadow’s finishing school. Until Drak was certain of the stranger’s place, it paid to be aware.

 

This meant he noticed the newb’s momentary pause, and the change of direction that followed. As the stranger approached his table and stood before it while he continued eating, Drak briefly allowed himself to feel the newcomer. Yes, he is another, and powerful. Looking up with an amused half smile, Drak raised an eyebrow as the stranger spoke.

 

“Greetings. I’m Ayrik Drayven, formerly of Tar Valon. Is this seat taken?”

 

Leaning back and peering thoughtfully into the large man’s eyes, Drak nonchalantly pushed out the chair to his right with his foot. He suspected that Ayrik wouldn’t like his back to the crowd any more than he himself would, and the proffered chair would allow him to sit and still maintain this justified decorum. It was a thoughtful gesture, and Ayrik’s reaction to it would prove insightful.

 

“It is now, if you wish. Names mean little here, and are changed as often as the bed sheets.” Smiling slightly, he added, “I am called Drak. What brings me the pleasure of your company?”

 

With that, he let the feeling out process begin. One could never be too trusting, but it was often vital to have allies. The process was difficult, but necessary. And perhaps Ayrik would prove a worthy comrade. If not…

[Quibby]

As the man spoke, he pushed one of the chairs out from the table. “It is now, if you wish. Names mean little here, and are changed as often as the bed sheets.” With a small smile on his face, the man added, “I am called Drak. What brings me the pleasure of your company?” Ayrik's mind was already at work. He saw what the man was doing with the selection of seating. The gesture was one suggesting that he didn't want to see him injured, a kindness. He was waiting for a reaction. Several possibilities were available to Ayrik, but how to best present himself. This place was dangerous, as Drak had just proven. In a moment, Ayrik's path was clear. Without a word, he pulled one of the chairs away from the table and took a seat... with his back to the cafeteria. He had to establish an air of either unconcern or courage. Or slight stupidity. Any of those impressions would give Ayrik the beginnings of a handhold.

 

As he settled himself, Ayrik answered Drak's question. "You bring the pleasure of my company, as you call it. Your attention is what drew me." Ayrik was careful with his tone. He didn't need Drak thinking that he was challenging him. It wouldn't end well for him. His attention was focused on the other man for multiple reasons. Thoughts could be read on a face as easily as in a voice. Easier at times. More importantly, if somebody were to come up behind him, Ayrik's only hints would come from the man in front of him. Even if it wasn't his intent, the man could possibly save his life.

 

Ayrik continued as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on in his mind, not a hard bit of acting, as nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "A man seated by himself in a location obviously chosen to remain inconspicuous, making certain to notice everybody who enters the door. I'm the freshest piece of meat in this place, an easy target. Why would you take interest in me?"

[Myth]

Drak carefully watched Ayrik’s actions. He could almost see the thoughts swirling in the new meat’s head. Why have I been noticed? How should I act? What does he want? How can I gain the edge? It was always the same on the first encounter. Ayrik’s obvious intelligence and courage was evident in the few seconds he took to carefully consider his response. The stupid never thought things through, and the indecisive or fearful remained standing. Of course, that still left plenty of room for flaws.

 

Ayrik pointedly pulled out a chair across from him, deliberately putting his back to the room, and replied in a carefully neutral tone, Drak was sure.

 

"You bring the pleasure of my company, as you call it. Your attention is what drew me. A man seated by himself in a location obviously chosen to remain inconspicuous, making certain to notice everybody who enters the door. I'm the freshest piece of meat in this place, an easy target. Why would you take interest in me?"

 

Letting the smile remain on his face, Drak answered in a purposefully almost-warm manner. “Knowledge is key here, as I’m sure you already know. It pays to be careful, as well. Which, again, I’m sure you are aware of. I think that answers both of your questions?” he added rhetorically. “As for our little conversation, I think it is over for now. It is apparent that you are both intelligent and bold, but I believe you are careless. If you survive that mistake and don’t let it happen again, perhaps we can talk in the future…”

 

Rising from his chair, he surveyed the room quickly. It was time to go.

 

Pausing, he added one last comment, before he confidently strode from the room. “I think you have potential, but discretion is the better part of valor. I don‘t think you‘ve learned that lesson yet. I truly hope we get to talk further, but until then if I were you I’d duck.”

 

Ayrik’s confused look was the last thing he saw before he turned toward the door. Moments later, he heard a resounding crash as the resident bully made his presence known to Ayrik’s blindside, probably with a chair. He had personally avoided that painful knot on the head with a carefully placed dagger and a few quiet words. Of course, he had seen it coming.

 

Smiling, Drak wondered if he would ever talk to Ayrik again…

[Quibby]

Ah, aha, Ayrik thought as the man spoke. Unless he was totally wrong, which wasn't very often, the man had learned all that he needed to know about him. The thought was vaguely unsettling for some reason. “As for our little conversation, I think it is over for now. It is apparent that you are both intelligent and bold, but I believe you are careless. If you survive that mistake and don’t let it happen again, perhaps we can talk in the future…” The comment made Ayrik chuckle, but there was something to it, an edge. Whatever had transpired, Ayrik didn't think that he had come out the winner in this. The man stood, looking around the room before addressing Ayrik again. “I think you have potential, but discretion is the better part of valor. I don‘t think you‘ve learned that lesson yet. I truly hope we get to talk further, but until then if I were you I’d duck.”

 

Ayrik didn't even bother hiding his confusion. Duck? Why? The man was stepping out the door when realization hit. Oh, this isn't going to feel good, Ayrik thought seconds before the chair broke across his back. The blow sent him flying out of his chair, leaving Ayrik dazed and sprawled on the floor. The perpetrator of the altercation stepped into view, a young man a bit heavier set and taller than Ayrik. "Welcome to the Fortress!" he said before kicking Ayrik in the ribs. Instinctively, Ayrik curled around the affected ribs. There you go again, overthinking everything. Why couldn't you just take the easy way out and take the offered chair?

 

The kicks continued for a moment before the bully said, "You want my advice? Leave." Laughing, he brought his foot back to kick Ayrik again. We're not doing this again, he thought angrily, lashing out with his own foot, catching the bully in the side of the knee. With a surprised cry, the man found himself at floor level with Ayrik. For a moment, the two were face to face, and in that moment, Ayrik spoke quietly, ensuring that only the other man would hear him. "I swear to you that you'll be begging me to kill you before I'm done." The coldness in his voice, the lack of hot anger, must have taken the man aback; for a moment, fear was evident on his face. It was the first time that Ayrik had ever spoken of killing a man himself. And he liked the sound. It was that thought that held him when the guy's cronies stepped in to clean up. It was that thought that allowed Ayrik to stand when it was all over. It was that thought that saw him back to his room. It was that thought that drove the plotting.