Ful took directions from the Dedicated directing traffic at the road junction, and left the main thoroughfare by a flight of steps that led him down onto a walled path by the creek. The deep green creek surged through a deep, man-made channel. 

He made his way to an archway overlooking the make-shift canal further along the wall. It was one of two side entrances to one of the farm’s kitchens and tired, hungry looking locals hung around the entrance.

Soldiers and civilians alike were fed here, side by side.

Earlier on, this soup kitchen had been started by one of the more sympathetic asha’aman who could not bare to see the misery of civilians and hanger-ons that populated the surrounding countryside. He converted his house on the farm into a charity with an irrigated garden in the back.

Ful adjusted his satchel of herbs and berries he foraged from the woods this morning. “Uhm, I have some fresh ingredients - where should I take this?” He asked, striding into the sun-lit space and finding some men scrubbing the tables and setting out clean bowls.

“In the back there,” came the reply from one of the harried looking volunteers. People were coming into the long, arched eating hall all the time, mostly locals who needed a meal, and it was hard to keep track of faces and names. 

Ful Haert ~ another pair of hands

Grand. Wanna start the thread or shall I?

Great tool Matalina. This is super useful thanks! 

Again! -To the east, again. 

Ashley growled a colorful oath and threw down his harnessed shortsword. He could smell damp grass. He snuck a look toward the center of the grove and tree where Aiden sat with practiced grace, placid. Ashley looked for a hint where the rabbit went. That dirty furball had heard him and another trainee rustling with their new weapons, heavy boots and scurried away from the intruders.

It was hard work to walk over the crackling branches. Even harder to resume flame and void. He flopped himself down and visualized the flame, again. Ugh, this was going to take some time.

Ashley Wilkes

Lillian gave a rather embarrassed laugh. “You’ve hit it, Astradore. I’m puzzled as to what to do sometimes. We remove ourselves from the greater world of politics and reason our theories from the safety of our studies. What happens when we are exposed to real world dangers, and our perfectly normal feelings?"

LOL Nox is awesome.

Is there a place you want to RP in particularly Odd or ? I'll leave up to you.

It's funny he's a baker since he's nobility haha.

Dizzy, his heart pounding, Ful almost fell back out into the sunshine and wind of the shore. He thought he might pass out, or worse, vomit. He knelt down with his back to the hot stonework and breathed deeply, aware of how cold his skin was - despite the dry singlet he put on. He tried to focus his attention on something other than shaking. Nox cut his threads. Not the feeling of shield slamming down between Ful and saidin, but still his threads unraveled, dissipated.

I saved him! I saved the boy! Ful was almost beside himself with the fact. He stared at the shivering boy, basking in every moment of the brief acknowledgement. He’d always wanted to be a hero . . .

Ful regarded the asha’aman now: the lean cut of his intense face that matched his expression. Did a flash of annoyance cross Nox’s face? He had half-seen this just now, doubting his eyes. A newcomer, a refined looking soldier Ful did not recognize had introduced himself as Merdyn. The soldier was pale with closely cropped hair the color of honey and trimmed beard. He was also older, maybe 20’s, well built and tall.

Ful rose. He felt light-headed. Despite the months of training he endured after joining the black tower, he was still out of shape. A young boy playing at being a soldier. Today’s exercises drained him.

“Okay,” Ful said. He went to the pine over by the indicated spot where Nox kept the blanket and retrieved it. It was standard issue black with thick, sheep wool. Ful handed it to Nox who seemed to have a calming effect on the boy Ful saved. Then he moved closer to the fire Merdyn started, rubbing at his arms. 

“Feels great, thanks.”

Ful Haert

Does Merdyn have any interest in doing like a soup kitchen together at the farm or maybe in town? Maybe it's like an assigned chore. Pls let me know, thanks!

Ooc: thanks, will do! 

In the end it took almost three hours for them to transport most of the larger rocks out of the way and to the rock quarry on the other side. The smaller ones Ful had piled neatly on the other side, but did not move over to the quarry.

Nox led the way up to the stone pile himself, the remnants of natural disaster. Then the tall asha’aman wove a gateway which led to a rock quarry Ful had been to before when they rebuilt Isha’s house the third time. Ful seized saidin and lifted one of the fist sized rocks carefully with a thick flow of air. Ful knew those who had the strength to perform gateways were rare, even here. He’d never be strong enough to do this no matter how long and hard he trained.

In this manner, they both trained - Ful moving the larger stones through the gateway; Nox maintaining the gateway instead of tying off the weave. Ful was impressed that the asha’aman kept up the gateway which required concentration and skill for the entire duration of Ful’s training.

Finally, when there were only smaller fragments left. Ful sat down on the muddy slate and took off his boots. Fatigue washed over him. Then he staggered into creek, flopped in, welcoming its coolness on his body, on his face. Tension sloughed off him as he laughed. It was over.

He frowned when he saw in the distance a small thatch of straw and - was it ? - yes, a waving arm. What Ful thought was moss floating in the water had been in actuality hair. A small boy by the size of that arm, no more than eight years, maybe six. Squinting he drew upon saidin once more, and with similar flows as he had lifted the rocks he lifted the boy up out of the water onto the ground. Then he heated the air and dried the other who coughed, arms still struggling against forces upon his body he couldn't see. The little blonde boy who fell in now looked terrified at having been saved. Ful realized belatedly maybe it was better to swim toward the boy and rescue him that way.

Ful Haert

Ooc: please feel free to continue the night; moved us to the morning and the party preparing to leave this town whenever you're both ready. Super psyched you're back! 

Something, somewhere, trembled. 

The sound and vibration inside her eyes and ears' cabin was oddly disconcerting. The air was dry, and there was something which made her skin prickle besides the stifling heat. In Beatrice’s cabin, Saline was battling to retain her professional composure. Amazingly, there was evidence Rory came this way, to this dinky middle-of-nowhere town. She thought about this, and nodded. She really should say something to Lavinya. If something happened, and the gray sister found out she knew . . .  That intelligence needed to be communicated. More importantly, they were due to make contact and rendezvous with some borderland scouts, one of the considerable packs that maintained peace in this part of the world. First, she needed to be at the tavern, with her party, in case things got rough. From there, she now knew where they were going. Their destination.

Then, they would find their missing party of sisters; then -everything would be gone and done, and finished, Mitya and his half dozen red guards, Lavinya and Corin and their efforts, this whole vainglorious undertaking. They would have completed the mission they were charged to perform by her. Then, the guilt would stop. She thought about the dangers of the blight; maybe they shouldn’t have come after the others failed their mission. But it would have been crueler to be left behind.

“Well, if that’s all.” Beatrice said. She, too, clearly had somewhere else she wanted to be. Together they talked throughout the night: sharing, speculating, planning.

“Thank you, I’ll take it.” Saline said, holding out her hand. Beatrice tossed the resealed bag to her. Saline turned to go, feeling tired but excited.

"Are you alright?” Beatrice asked.

A tiny flash of surprise crossed Saline's face, as if it never occurred to anybody to ask her that.

“Yes! Thanks,” she replied, fiercely. “It’s morning so I must get along before my presence is missed.”

Toward the back of the tavern, Mitya was making preparations with his red guards, sweeping the carriage, checking the horses and supply packs. Two of his men ran past Saline the other way, carrying a barrel between them. The river of people around them had parted and found other routes to take. Nobody wanted to get in the way of the armed guards, particularly not one who was clearly serious about leaving town, taking his noble charges on their way. Two more of Mitya’s guards went by in the other direction, hurrying, buttoning up their regimental dress uniforms.

Saline hesitated. She weighed her options, and realized they all depended on her maintaining her role, her deception. In full view like this, in front of dozens of curious townspeople, her options were drastically limited. She walked back to Lady Lavinya, and stood behind her, hands clasped in front. Attentive. Respectful. 

Saline Wastrel

Yes Taymist took care of all my bios for me thanks a lot for following up :)

Exciting! Can't wait to read both your adventures 

Hiya. Now you and Kristen are teasing  haha

It'd be great if you bring Linten back! His and Isha's interactions are my favorite BT threads. So many skewed emotions and aggression.

There was something wry and amusing in Nox’s eyes as he welded the blade of light; he asked, in a voice which carried effortlessly. "So in that vein what did you learn?"  

Ful frowned, thinking the question over. He had kept attentive and still during Nox's demonstration; but his face betrayed his emotion: that earnest hint of determination, more than a little surprise- at the patient understanding and friendly attitude his new mentor exhibited. Ful's former mentor Isha was hard and prickly, moody - more likely to smack Ful with air than any playful scolding. He didn’t want Nox knowing about Isha; it wasn't fair to compare the two. He couldn’t bring himself to ask Nox who this Adrim was.

Ful stared at Nox levelly, looking up to meet the taller man’s gaze. Nox had elaborately separated the elemental flows; kept his weaving slow for Ful’s benefit it seemed. He wondered what Nox's expectations for his students were.

“Yes,”  Ful said slowly. He paused, and then repeated the word. “Yes, I see where my mistake was. I’m happy for the chance to try again. Failure is a compelling reason for learning. It’s a great honor for me to be enrolled here, so that I may learn.”

Saidin was effective, but addictive. He felt the heady rush of power as he called upon the elements again. This time, he laboriously corrected where before he had fumbled. If he practiced a thousand times maybe it could be done faster. It was done. Ful beamed with pride at the blade of light between his hands. 

“Learning new things every day.”

Ful Haert

Ooc: great, thanks for confirming. Cleansing the taint changes everything . . . yes it’s in the current timeline not retro. :) Also I found out form the website Ful won’t be able to travel haha. He can learn to heal though.

Morning dew lingered on the grass.  

Ful was perspiring from the warm wet air. He stood in front of Nox, hands behind his back, carefully watching. Nox wove quickly, surely. As if the asha'aman could do it blindfold. Ful copied the flows as Nox instructed, frowning in concentration as he did so.

Pitfall. Ful’s hole in the ground was small and pretty shallow. It looked pitiful next to Nox’s. Nox tossed his weave at the ground and it erupted, kicking up rock. Ful strained to do the same, breathing hard. Then they shaped the earth with their flows, filling up the pitfalls this time.

He felt significantly better doing the air exercises that came next. It came easily, the air razor. He cooked using this weave all the time, chopping, dicing, mincing vegetables in Ful’s house. He was pretty proud of how sharp the edge of his air razor had become while he practiced his domestic chores.

"Pick your poison. Impress me.”

At this choice, the boy hesitated a moment, thinking. Ful needed to weigh his options here. He realized his weakness in fire. It made sense to summon a sword of air, by weaving water and spirit together. But his priority here was to pass the assessment with flying colors. He had to decide if he should go with an elemental blade he felt confident to create - the sword of air, or one that was more difficult. His mind knew he was being tested and should go with air and water to ensure success, but his heart wanted to try the blade of light.

“Nox, I’d love to try a blade of light even though I’m weak in fire." He replied, rigid at attention. “It'd more impressive if I can do it, since it involves all the elements."

Ful reached out and felt saidin filling his body. Air and spirit came quickly, easily. Making the flows of fire and earth was more slow. This was the hardest one in the series - the weaving was more complicated than he was used to. After some time of struggling with the complexity of all the elements, when Ful’s weave was almost done, it collapsed. He failed to hold it.

Oh well. Ful grinned ruefully. He summoned a blade of air, completed the exercise and turned back to his new mentor. “Suppose I’m not ready for that yet."

Ful Haert

Ooc: haha, edited the previous post. :)

“Uhm, yes . . . Nox,” Ful was surprised by Nox’s friendly grin when he stopped in front of Nox. Guess he shouldn’t really believe everything he heard. They could be pulling his leg.

Ful smiled back. 

Ful was slender and gracefully slight by comparison to the asha'aman. Just a boy, and a frail one at that. He had inherited his refined features from his mother. He wished he had taken after father instead, like his brother. Father was a well made man . . .

Ful took a deep breath and channelled. He could channel reliably by now. He felt the oily-ness everywhere in saidin, it was there to keep him on his toes, forcing his stomach to twist. Every time he channelled, Ful felt fear in his bowels, in his gut, in his throat.

Quickly, once he drew saidin, Ful set to following Nox’s example and wove the ball of light, tied it off and released the power.

He knew this weave, as it was one of the first taught to him by Isha.

There was little time for basics and induction. Isha had shown him the ropes, and then when the real fighting had started, took care to keep Ful away from it. He remembered, also, watching Isha drill his men in combat. It was a genuinely terrifying display of speed, skill and aggression. Like others in power, asha’amen had closed ranks and secrets of their own.

You wrote so beautifully; I'm sure these years of reading and lived experience have improved your writing skills even more. 

Kristen! I remember Lavinya. Come back, please and welcome back! 

Ooc: haha, this reminds me of watchmen's who watches the watcher? I've left it open for Elin to walk back to red ajah quarters or to part here. Thanks for the practice! 

Saline nodded, and sipped her drink pensively. There was truth in what Elin said about the benefits to bonding. The bond provided a connection between two people who would share their intimate feelings though what was described to her as a messy ball of emotions. A clever woman could untangle this ball, gaining insight into what was madness and taint. This could be done, yes, at a very big cost to herself.

“Sensible. Linking with a man gives you a better idea whether you can put up with keeping the presence of saidin in your mind all the time. To see the black tower, to learn about it, to learn from the asha’aman, these are all things that will benefit us when we need to safeguard the world.” 

Saline wiped her lips with the back of her napkin and replaced it carefully on her lap before she said.

“What you say makes a lot of sense. If this mission led by our ajah goes well, Elin, it could mean a lot. It could mean a lot for our cause, but also for you, for me, and everybody who supported us. We’ve made our choices. We looked at the opportunity and decided to go to the black tower. All we could do is to make the best of that choice.”

“Naturally, our amyrlin and sitters of the hall have so many other missions to scrutinize and approve of, spread across many nations and peoples. This is just one push by the aes sedai, the watchers, amongst many, against the shadow. If we fail, it’ll dilute the effect of all previous missions; a failure here would need to be forgotten, to be seen as not directly strategic to prepare for the upcoming battle. If we succeed, however, it’ll make all the difference. Light knows, it may be you being there - keeping an eye on an abnormal situation at a critical moment - that could pull it off.”

“Always learning - that’s a good policy, I think.” Saline said solemnly. “I thank you for our time in practice, and our chat. Shall we arrange this time tomorrow, maybe?”

Hearing the younger sister’s reply, Saline got up. Her trust issues would have to wait. For now, she wanted a bath, followed by some more reading in her room. She reckoned they headed the same direction toward the red ajah quarters, though?

Saline Wastrel

Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah

@Arie LOL looking forward to Cairma and Ashley's acquaintance-ship haha.

Excited for you at the conference this weekend. Have a great time!

“If you supported it.” Not one to be deflected, Elin pressed on. She had tossed the last part in for good measure. Saline breathed deeply; the petite woman seemed agreeable, and accommodating enough, but did not mince her words. Elin's question was two-fold; the first was easy enough to answer. As for the second half . . .

“I tell you what I’m going to do,” she said, leaning in close. “This mission, because of all the good reasons you say, it’s pretty vital. It's a chance for us to learn how to prevent another breaking, together with the other half of the power. Not going to lie, it’s dangerous too. But what I plan do on this mission is spend the time proving that we’re indispensable to both towers. As members of the red ajah, we’re going to prove our worth.” She dropped her voice. She didn't want her ajah to lose face by seeming divided in front of outsiders, as that would look weak; here they were a team. 

“There’s a slight problem I have with us bonding the men who channel though. It’s pretty widespread the effect of the taint on asha’aman. How can we bond potential madmen? Half of these young men are rushed through training like ticking time bombs, earning their silver pins and black coats before they learn properly to control their human urges. It’s heartbreaking. Even if the bonded aes sedai isn’t driven mad by her partner, it’d greatly incapacitate both people if we end up gentling one of the bonded pair - instead of having two useful allies we end up with liabilities- am I not right?"

Saline pulled a face. Remembering that time she linked before with an attack leader Arath and Lillian. Two aes sedai, one asha’aman. A basic circle. “Elin, linking’s a good practice to feel saidin. The taint, even second hand, is incredibly sickening. You should try it.” 

The taste of bread turned to dust in her mouth. She now lost what appetite the vigorous training brought, just thinking about that oily unpleasant sensation. Sudden chill prickled her arms, and she drew her red shawl closer. Her voice still low, she said “Here’s an idea. Why don’t we practice more together in the coming days?”

Saline Wastrel

Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah

@Taymist Thanks, you're the best!

@Matalina Yay! Super appreciate Nox willing to take over Ful's training. :)

Ooh. Thanks Cass and Taymist for approval/CC haha :)

super excited to start RP'ing Ful 

“Sure,” Saline said, smiling. She was very happy with the fit of her new dress, even more happy with her training. Elin’s control over her illusions was impressive; her skill allowed them to practice against attackers that moved quickly, intelligently. 

And it was good being active. Confinement and idleness allowed minds to stagnate; anxieties to fester . . . 

The ringing of a bell marked the passage of time. “Shall we eat lunch and then talk? That is, if you’d care to join me.” She didn’t have the strength to go back to her room, shower, and then have to come back out.

Saline walked beside Elin, out of this training room and turned the corner. Then they went down the stairs - Saline taller, leading the way; the other sister followed.

Below the training hall, there was an extensive warren of arched stone passages, vaulted training rooms, pantries, larders and wine cellars. Saline took Elin through a passage, then turned left through to the one of the tower's kitchens. Lamps had been lit here. The kitchen was busy with noise - filled with heat and steam and the smell of roast meat and herbs - the pot girls, cooks and servants sat talking and relaxing in the cool entrance, beaded with sweat, as they took their breaks from cooking, cleaning, and between serving. 

"We can help ourselves," Saline held up her hand as the conversations in the kitchen stopped, as the staff began to scrape back chairs and rise. “As you were.”

There was an earthenware pitcher of lemon water, and some freshly baked bread on the table. Saline carefully filled a tumbler on the table beside the pitcher and prepared a tray of toasted bread, cheese, butter; then they passed the servants into the long hall where only aes sedai ate. 

The hall was crowded and noisy like the kitchen they passed through. Conversation, laughter and the chink of glasses. Not counting the servants, there were sisters here, lingering over their late lunches, having kaf, sipping their teas. She even saw a few sisters drinking adult beverages, though it was midday. 

She sat down with her tray at one of the corner tables lit with glow-light. Saline took a sip from her glass - the water was cold and the lemon flavor refreshing. Satisfying.

“Now, is this place alright for our talk?” Saline looked at Elin. They could also stroll outside if it was a private matter. Their conversation would be overheard by eyes and ears outdoors, but less easy to do than inside the tower. However, here in this bright and noisy hall, there were many conversations, which was also an advantage, like hiding a tree in the forest.

“Before you ask me what you need to know, Elin please tell me this. Sitter Jagen’s trip to the black tower - what do you understand this mission to be about?” From her point of view it was a good chance to put aes sedai through a proper shakedown prior to real battle with other channelers. To note, if it turned to disaster, if this party had comprised of expendable, young bunch of sisters with little experiential value. But she was not prepared to inject that small dose of cynicism into a sister newly raised to the stole. Though more than twice Elin's age, Saline didn't consider herself to be wise from her lived experience. Worried, if anything.

Still, best make the most of this situation. She enjoyed the subject matter of Jagen’s field trip, and the other woman had brought up the topic first during their practice. Picking up her piece of bread, Saline waited for Elin's reply.

Saline Wastrel

Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah

Good luck?

He was quite sure Loraen had sized him up thoroughly before she sat down.

He slid onto the grass beside her. Ashley looked up at Loraen's face in profile. He wondered what her eye looked like behind the eyepatch. Perhaps it was unfair, but those scars on one so young invited a curiosity he did not feel toward the others.

Her gaze, as it were, was fixed on Aiden who was sitting in front of them. Aiden was speaking with his eyes closed.

Eyes shut tightly, Ashley tried to picture the flame as a robust, roaring fire over coals, remembering the furnace at the blacksmith’s inside the armory. He was finding it quite easy to find his emotions, since he really was annoyed. He felt petulant like a child when faced with his weakness even among his peers. But it was hard to sustain the flames in his mind. The flame sputtered out time after time, distracted: the birdcalls, his busy thoughts, his achy muscles and now aching head. He thought they were going to play with the weapons that were to become extensions of themselves, not sit here and practice thinking. Or was it a practice in not thinking?

So hot. So annoying. His head hurt. He crushed a handful of the lush grass, feeling the sap drying on his fingers. This was when Aiden said, “Keep trying until you reach it. We have all day."

He opened his eyes and looked at Aiden as if he were insane. Feel nothing? All day? 

Then he looked around at the concentrating students and felt ashamed, small. 

Disgusted, he was determined not to bring trouble to the others. In his disappointment and despair he forgot that he would be dragging down the whole class. He closed his eyes to try one more time. He would try to hold the flame. Then he could worry about feeding his emotion into the flame. Then, empty like the void.

What was in him now? 

He tried to school his thoughts and emotions toward the flame. He thought of them as breezes to breathe life into the fire. It amused him to pretend he worked the bellows pumping air, fanning the flame. He trained that amusement into his flame; it grew bigger, hotter. His feelings of pain, of discomfort he imagined to be feather sticks that he and the tinkers shaved with their knives to provide kindling for the campfires. The repeated strokes in shaving the thin, gentle feathers had been calming, therapeutic, rote. His erratic breathing calmed as he supplied the bright orange flame with more air, more soft feather sticks. One more, one more, one more until he was all used up and had nothing left to give. 

He became sharply aware of the ogier grove. The breathing of the others. This was a tidy, well tended garden. A place of peace. A refuge.

In his surprise his shoulder bumped into Loraen's. 

“Ugh! Sorry,” he said, shying away.

Sighing at his own clumsiness, he imagined a flame. Again. Even though it could be called a success he was somewhat unhappy there had been so much with which to feed the flame.

Ashley Wilkes

Trainee