Crack! Fiera swept a loose tendril of hair from her eye and surreptitiously mopped a beaded brow with the back of her hand. “Light!” she hissed between clenched teeth, diving to catch the crumpling chair before it toppled to the ground with an almighty crash that would surely summon every Aes Sedai in the vicinity like wolves to an audibly dying rabbit. The chair slumped in Fiera’s arms and the girl laid it gently against the musty floorboards—she would mend it somehow later—and cocked her head with bated breath to listen to any warning sounds coming from close-by that might originate from someone who had just reasoned out her less than pure intentions. Hearing nothing but the quiet breathing of the slumbering Tower, Fiera released her breath and visibly relaxed. The Novice straightened and apprehensively surveyed the damage. The chair leg was snapped cleanly in half; how she had done that, Fiera had not a clue. It had just happened while she stood there with the Power swirling mutinously within her, her mouth slightly ajar and her body motionless with mingled exhilaration, anger, and fear; her mind had been whirring at the speed of light, and, boom, it happened, all on its own accord.

Perhaps that was why the Sister enforced a rule as obviously foolish as not allowing Novices to practice their channeling in the privacy of their own rooms, so they would not end up burning the Tower down or demolishing every piece of furniture within its pristine walls. Mmmm…maybe. But that did not mean Fiera was obliged to acquiesce. On the contrary, se was going to do everything in her power to ensure there was an empty room awaiting her at the end of every day in which she could continue her epic battle with Saidar. For now, however, her time for fiddling with the Power had expired—Saidar had fled when the accursed chair had decided to buckle—and Fiera knew she would have to work herself into an enraged lather before the Power would swell into her once more. Right now she had a lesson with Jaydena, and that was something she was disinclined to squander in exchange for a few hours of frustration and perhaps a couple seconds of breaking miscellaneous items, if she managed even that. For some unforeseeable reason, she seemed to be having a little more trouble conquering Saidar than most people—it was difficult admitting that to herself, the prime reason that she hadn’t yet—, but surely working with the Green would set things right and unearth the explosive force waiting to be unleashed within herself.

Fiera ran a brush through her hair distractedly, studying the dim reflection in her mirror. A pair of acid green eyes stared back in defiance, denouncing this new wench as ever being a part of them. She had changed, that much was incontrovertible, but whether for better or for worse was still questionable. Fiera thought it was the latter. Nothing good could come out of trying to make deference one’s sole policy; it only made the spineless feel better about living with themselves. It was probably the silence that jerked Fiera out of her little reverie, but as soon as she resurfaced her body sprung into familiar action. She scrubbed her face with a damp cloth and ruffled her pale skirts ceremoniously, pulling on her unadorned shoes with vigor and finally rustling through the door. She strode in her usual brisk manner, spine rigid, chin elevated, nose tilted to the air like an arrogant doe testing the air with enviable confidence. She stepped lightly wit the air of a woman who knew who she was and wanted others to know it as well. Fiera swept inexorably through the hush of the corridors unperturbed, stiffening and gazing straight ahead when passing an Accepted—she received much of the same in turn—and dropping condescending gazes on the Novices who tottered by. Fiera had not come here to socialize or make friends, after all, but…perhaps just a couple might be appropriate, only as her eyes-and-ears and some such, of course.

Soon, the doors opened up to the gardens, splendid colors peering down at her from every angle, the arbors sighing a cool mist upon those fortunate enough to have the opportunity to lounge beneath them, the placid butterflies perching lightly on ornately carved benches depicting endless blooms laughing up to skies that were always blue…It was, as always, a refreshing and spectacular sight to behold. Fiera found herself smiling again, and this time she didn’t fight it. There really wasn’t a crime in being happy and blissfully carefree. She spied a striking fire-hued lily bobbing its remarkable head in her direction. Casting a wary eye at those around her, she kneeled close to the flower once she realized no one was aware of her existence and plucked it from the foliage. Pleased at her accomplishment, she tucked it into her hair where it gleamed scornfully like the finest of spessartite garnets caught in a field of black. The girl scurried on, keeping surveillance for Jaydena Sedai. She approached the bench at where they were supposed to meet, but frowned worriedly when there was no sign of the fiery Green. Had she gotten the time wrong, or perhaps the date? The meeting might have been for tomorrow, or she could have already missed it! Fiera fretted on and on, growing more annoyed and embarrassed by the minute, when, finally, Jaydena appeared, not seeming at all harried. Fiera relaxed.

The usual pleasantries were exchanged, but this time Jaydena escorted Fiera to a secluded garden in which they could practice undisturbed. Fiera’s heart threatened to pound out of her chest. This could only mean they were moving on to the real stuff. Jaydena asked her to assume the flower bud and Fiera bit back a groan. It seemed that the most difficult part of channeling for Fiera was simply wrapping her mind around the Source; after that, she could do whatever was asked of her. The Saldean tried and tried and tried until sweat congregated upon her tensed brow, but the Power eluded her with ferocity; spots of color bloomed on her cheeks as irritation began to creep in and take over. I will never get this stupid thing right! To Shayol Ghul with all of this! The Power rushed in her. Fiera grinned enthusiastically, reverently feeling the invincible power bubbling within her like a furnace of heat and energy, alighting her senses so that she felt as if she was observing the world through a magnifying glass of color and clarity, her heart floating up to her throat in an attempt to soar into the sky of brilliant blue that suddenly seemed so close to the earth. Fiera struggled to refocus and tuned her newly acute hearing to the words tumbling from Jayden’s patient mouth. Fiera could laugh. This concept came easy to her; she rode all her life and knew what it felt like to physically give up contact on the reins despite the desire to keep one’s animal collected, then to gently take back up that contact when the terrain would allow it. She applied this to her mind, and with a little bit of fumbling, she performed the transitions smoothly.

The next part was trickier. Fiera recited the elements from memory: “Red is fire, brown is earth, silver is spirit, blue is water, and green is air.” She nodded decisively. When Jaydena smiled her approval, Fiera beamed with pleasure and found it quite difficult to keep from squirming in her seat. Finally, the time came for Fiera to display her keen expertise in the elements hands-on and the girl scrubbed a hand across her forehead before leaning forward to observe the mass in apparent glee. Which one to choose first? It seemed the element had chosen her as her hand wavered towards the fiercely glowing thread of solid, burnished red. She suddenly caught herself and blushed like a flame inwardly. She could not pick it out with her hand! Fiera smiled nervously and reached out with the Power. Her hand strayed to the red strand once more, but this time her mind was reinforcing her efforts towards it. She fiddled with the sting, wiggling it about and testing where it held strongest, finally drawing it towards herself with growing caution when she realized the thread was actually sliding out of the tangled, congealed mess of elements. She retracted her hand deliberately and the strand dislodged completely. Fiera squealed—it had been easy!—her excitement and tilted her head for Jaydena’s approval, moving back to the mass when Jaydena nodded encouragingly.

Next, she concentrated on the green tendril of air. They were hard to locate, but she felt what they were once she brushed over them. She fussed with it as she had with the red, feeling around it and pushing and pulling it in an effort to work it free. Her hands darted and jerked in a resolute dance, pulling and straining the thread towards themselves with promising allure, beckoning it forth and out of its melded state of dazzling light. Finally the strand pulled free and hung limply, the sword of light also not looking so much like one anymore. Fiera went directly to the next this time, wasting no time to consult Jaydena, so sure was her confidence with this affair. The brown strand of earth called to her. Fiera found this one to be trickier than the former two. It was not difficult exactly, but more like it was simply worked in better and thus harder to tug out. Fiera retained her calm and fondled the string deftly, her fingers gathered over the strand in an open claw of command, calling, summoning, yanking. That thread, too, fell away in surrender, only whetting the girl’s appetite to manipulate and dominate more. The fluttering strand of spirit toppled with no more coaxing than the earth thread, reflecting the calm light of the warm afternoon within the garden's cloister. Her sights settled on the lone strand of water. Her smile turned malicious. Fiera hauled at the strand, but it only trickled through the eager fingers of her mind. She snorted to disguise her consternation and continued to fiddle forcefully with string, grunting in her hopeless efforts and trying to ignore the rivulets of sweat snaking down her hot cheeks. Every time she grasped the string, it only slipped slickly out of her grip and sucked back evasively, taunting her frostily with its shimmering luminescence. It’s beauty masqueraded a frankly pernicious nature. A long while passed with profuse sweating and squirming, when finally the thread yielded and dropped unconscious, nearly taking Fiera down into darkness with it.

“There,” she gasped in exhaustion, “I got the last one…” She shot Jaydena Sedai a doleful glance and masked her shame with flaccid anger. “Is that all? Well then, that wasn’t so difficult.” She resumed her self-possessed stance as if it had never slipped from her façade. At least this day had been somewhat eventful. She felt not unlike Hawkwing of the legends, glorious in her existance and wholly prepared to conquer the world.

The day had been an interesting one so far, for Fiera had done much to boost her spirits for what was to come this evening. She had managed to cajole some sniveling little brats to “help” her get some highly undesirable chores completed and spent her rightfully earned spare time running through the list of the tragically stilled that was surgically implanted in her brain. Memorizing it has taken no more than a minute and she was now illustrating the names with a flourish of emphasis here and a subtle solemn decrescendo there to give her words more dramatic effect. After all, delivery was an incredibly important component of swaying another in your favor. Her aim was to impress Jaydena enough that the woman would allow her to proceed through the lesson plans much faster than the rest of those inept Novices; she was surprised the Aes Sedai had not already settled on this the moment she realized Fiera’s undeniable aptitude for all things. And the poor Green had seemed reasonably intelligent, too.

Fiera had been in an especially foul mood towards the start of the day, hissing oaths more vitriolic than usual at the obscenely bright, slanting rays of sunlight that filtered upon her pillow as the day broke in its vivid glory. The girl had been up all night trying to snatch up the translucent pool glimmering at the edge of her vision, but, as was the typical result of her efforts, the more she tried to bend it to her will, the more it resisted and slipped lithely through the eager fingers of her mind. She gave up only when her room began to blur and darkness crept across the fuzzy chamber, smothering her with sleep. She had woken feeling uncomfortably bleary and wanting nothing more than to drop her heavy-as a-sack-of-bricks head back onto her pillow and never wake up again. However, that was obviously not a viable option. She later smoothed the wrinkles of her day when she snapped up a pair of newlings and quite forcefully convinced them of the existence of a Novice hierarchy headed only by her, and it would be in their best interest to take heed and follow her every command. Eventually, a kinder soul would clarify their blunder, but for the moment, they were cleaning the chamber pots so she wasn’t all that fussed.

After that, things became more bearable and Fiera was able to focus her efforts to retaining every shred of her lessons, something that would of proved rather difficult with the image of unclean chamber pots swimming menacingly in her head. The only thing that had put her off other than unsightly chores was how she had reacted when a passing Aes Sedai had asked tartly that shouldn’t she be on the other side of that door—Fiera had been contemplating whether she was too early for class outside the chamber. Fiera had then jumped and stumbled over her words, flopping into a curtsy before almost falling through the doorway in her haste to put the wooden structure between her and the dark woman. She had been the one who had taken Fiera’s punishment into her own hands, and the woman had a surprisingly good arm! Every time Fiera thought about the incident, her body became suffused with intolerable shame and anger towards the Aes Sedai and herself. This was her, who wanted to dice up trollocs and clash blades with a warder, running scared from another mortal being (albeit they could channel)! What was she turning into, a conniving Carheinin? She would be reaching for the Brown if she continued this irrational display of incredible cowardice. If the fact that her visits to the Mistress of Novices were slowing to an oozing trickle was any indication of that, she might as well attach her head to a history book now!

And so, contemplating the true meaning of bravery, Fiera trotted absentmindedly down the steps leading to the delicately blooming splendor of the White Tower gardens. The cheerful scene aroused her senses and also brought her to them. I’m such a dolt she thought furiously, wiping away all traces of thoughts tangential to the lesson she had been waiting for so keenly. Touching the Source was all that mattered now. I wonder if I’ll be the fastest person to ever touch it, she mused seriously, unable to smother the triumphant smile that tugged at her lips at the thought. Of course she would! When had she ever been outdone by anybody to date? What a silly thought. She laughed at herself lightly, now fretting over if fire would truly be her strongest element like she wanted it to. In Saldea, she had often been compared to a flame, untenable, untamable, fiery, and inflammable; now she was more like a chunk of ice: immobile, fat, sulking, and untouchable. How she hated who she had become here. Her humor and wit had evaporated so quickly at the Tower, she often wondered if she had ever had it at all, or was her prior life just an illusion…?

Her mood was suddenly beginning to darken, and, Fiera, realizing the direction it was headed in, assumed the flame and the void to drain herself of all rash emotion unnecessary for this particular encounter. Remember what is important she chastised herself savagely, allowing her sharply emerald eyes to return to their post of scanning the courtyard for her green-masked mentor, chivvying them away from trying to peer inward into her soul like they had been futilely attempting. After a few moments of survey, she located the amiable Green perched on a bench as before, staring serenely into the distance as if she owned not a care in the world, floating carelessly in an ocean of crimson roses. Despite the fact that she despised roses--lilies were so much better), Fiera felt herself smiling against her will, but she brutally smashed down the admiration that was welling in her chest with utmost disdain and arrogance; she had no real reason for venerating this woman…simply her channeling her green fringed shawl was not enough. With scrupulously measured strides, she strode up to the Aes Sedai and curtsied lightly, bending her spine with more the forbearing tolerance of a queen acknowledging a disciple than a Novice greeting a Sister. She smiled.

“Good evening, Jaydena Seadi. I hope I find you well.” Her manner this time was much more urbane and refined, and she had no problem of biting off or confusing her words in unfounded rage. In the midst of her new contained enthusiasm, a perilous thought struck her in a burst of inspiration. “If you don’t mind my asking,” she began cautiously, “what is the reason you wear a mask?” She paused. “I have failed to see any other Sister sporting a similar article.” Fiera beamed innocuously, trying to make herself seem as diminutive as possible; given her height, it wasn’t an arduous task.

After her falsely cheerful introduction, Fiera listened intently to Jaydena’s instructions, channeling all her efforts to opening herself open to the Source at last. However, there was one issue with the entire channeling affair: She couldn’t do it. She did everything her mentor said in that troublingly patient voice, but there was no rose blooming in the fertilizer of her body…and to be honest, she preferred lilies anyway! A shrill scream of frustration trilled in the cavernous hull of her throat, but it never touched the crisp evening air. She did everything she could think of: wrestling with the pool of light, pounding it, pushing it, trying to bore a hole into it, howling at it…but it was all fruitless. Fiera looked to her mentor in broken hope, her eyes blinking askance and assistance, but Jaydena’s words offered no reprieve or solution. In a moment of utter despair, cold fury flooded into her. She was supposed to be the best, the record-holder, the channeling model of centuries; yet here she was struggling to accomplish the very first baby-steps of being anything. What kind of twisted half-world was this? Where had her supremacy wandered? The wrath blossomed under the waters of uncontrolled vehemence. And, all of a sudden, everything clicked. Warmth leaked into her being, neither liquid nor gas, elevating her spirits above the wings of her pet osprey, freeing her, drawing her in to seek more…She could not stop; she was like a child drunk on especially strong spiced wine, enthralled by the effects of her first sip and eager to drain more. She could not be happier. Without warning, the feeling whipped away from her. It was as if it had never happened, her labored breathing the only indication of the event that had taken place.

Fiera trained her eyes to Jaydena’s, grinning stupidly with glee. “I did it!” She squealed. “Did you see—it just happened…” She stopped. Why has she lost the Power, though? It was as if it was whisked away the moment her frustration and anger had vanished. She frowned petulantly, slightly confused. “But was it supposed to just…fade? It was like someone ripped it away from me, like I was only in control as long as I was livid, but not in control even then…I felt like—lashing out.”

I had been an interesting lesson, to say the least, but, as Fiera left, she went with more a feeling of apprehension and perplexed dread than anything she had thought she would feel when she imagined her first touching.

(Sorry this took so long! The ending is pretty hasty, too, because this was definitely on the long side!)

OoC: Sorry about that again :oops: I always planned to have Fiera suck at touching the OP, so would that sort of count as an internal conflict, or do you mean something more like self-doubt or fear? She's not really as secure as she appears, and that's why she's so sour and mulish about everything. She thinks she has to struggle for her accomplishments for them to count, and the new environment (WT) increases her discomfort. She not nearly as dour as she acts; it's more like the mask she wears here to disguise her uncertainty and fear of failure, and I suppose to protect her giant ego too. Is that internal conflict-esque? My goal was to make her more or less of an idiot at first, really. I'll get a post up after this =]

The day had been indubitably gray from the moment Fiera had deigned to greet the dawn with a rather accusatory yawn--it was, of course, wholly its fault for waking her at an hour she'd rather not be woken--and it was, still, a mass of dark skies stretching into a infinite horizon tinged with the pinks and yellows of a diregardfully cheerful evening. Fiera much preferred the inky expanse of midnight blue that reigned over the heavens of night, so dark that it could be taken as a veil of black that guarded her thoughts and evoked her mind's greatest aspirations and jealously clandestine fears. She had taken enough audacious strolls through its realm to realize it was the time of absolute quiet and darkness from which she drew her most powerful strength, rather than from the hustle and bustle of the daily grind as many others would have imagined. In truth, there was little solace in filthy chores, tedious lessons, snotty giggling girls that she quickly set in place, and all this ridiculous curtsying when she, with her royal Saldaen blood, should be the one to whom these peasants bowed. That considered, one could harly blame her for her consistantly dour moods. Today was no exception. The White Tower reared into a blithe cerulean sky, its lofty torrents seeming to lean into affinity and its zenith looking to kiss the very pinnacle of heaven, if such a place really did exist. No other structure was said to match it in height and craftsmanship; the work of Ogiers, too, it was rumored. It was a decidedly disgusting display, but the girl had vowed to bear it without complaint. Well, at least, without much complaint. The only redeeming detail of this rendezvous was that it occurred outside (circular classrooms became tedious all too quickly) and would involve her touching the source at last. It was not as if she hadn't attempted it many times before, but she could never seem to snatch up the wretched pool of light that illuminated her days, even at their darkest. No matter how much she tried to bend that ray to her will, to mold and wrestle it into something other than an annoying lump of energy, it devoutly refused to budge. Well, today would mark the moment she would conquer the One Power at last! It was about time too.

Fiera hastened her step at the thought of conquest, determindedly ignoring the wind that whipped shamelessly through her hair and set her dark tresses whirling about her frowning face and twisting around her elongated neck like the promise of a noose. She had earned this and time would not deny her of such an opportunity. As she hurried through the throng her tilted acid-green eyes swept the grounds in intent survey, carefully scrutinizing swaggering Accepteds and imperious AesSedai alike, filing each carefully in her mind and tucking them away for later evaluation. This process had become second nature after years in the court, and it had never failed her when she tinkered with the unwritten rules of Daes Demar or began gently pushing others to test their limits and the extent of their control over her. It might not do her much good in this prison, but breaking life-long habits was no simple matter. Fiera's mind darted among the benches of the garden until finally they rested on their quarry with the sweeping finality of irons being clapped on the wrists of a particularly elusive plunderer. At spotting the fiery Green, familiar feelings of turmoil settled over Fiera, reverence battling disdain and blind excitement clashing with undefined dread. Her eyes followed the progress of the vines curling up the hem of Jaydena Sedai's gown, finally managing to extricate themselves from the tangle of thorns to flick up to her smooth, ageless face of utter, undisrupted serenity. Fiera contained a snort directed to the woman's interesting garb, recalling her own line of extravagant clothing that was in much better taste than her unfortunate mentor's. It was uncertain when her brain acknowledged the strange crescent mask wrapped snugly about the Green's pretty facade. Fiera cocked a questioning eyebrow in her direction, but forced her attention back into neutral interest right after the act, apprehensive to lose time in grasping the Source due to superfluous explanations she would probably not completely comprehend anyways and be sent to the Mistress of Novices for asking on top of that. Her lessons here had all been learned the hard way, unfortunately.

Jaydena smiled and gestured Fiera hospitably to seat herself on a bench. She lowered herself onto the bench cautiously, hesitant to place all her weight on her still-sore seat bones. Sirayan had not be any gentler as Fiera continued to frequent her lonely office; in fact, her swings seemed to grow in forcefulness at Fiera's fifth visit for asking inappropriate questions and defiance. In the end, she choose a passable medium and perched like a rigid bird on the very edge of the bench, concealing a slight wince behind a harsh smile that bared too many teeth to be anything in the near vicinity of genuine. "Good evening, Jaydena Sedai," she managed weakly, still fumbling over the bitter taste of the honorifics in her mouth. "Hello, my child. I hope you are doing well? Before we get started I have a few rules that you must follow. Do not, I repeat Do Not, touch the Source, or Light forbid, channel, without supervision. I do not care if you have already started channeling in the secrecy of your room. That will stop today. If you are found violating this rule you'll be sent to the Mistress of Novices office for a suitable punishment. And I know that suitable means extremely harsh. So save us both a lot of trouble and just don't do it." This harangue was certainly not what Fiera had been expecting. She could not feel anything but irritated by anything that delayed her first touching, but she still stiffened slightly at the general and rather offhand reprimand, pushing all her guilt into a canvas bag and dumping it off the highest peak of her mind. She feigned meekness and observed the manicured grass in convincing bashfulness, mumbling a "Of course, Jaydena Sedai," with a deference she did not feel. She was becoming rather practiced in exuding false emotions--it was all that saved her from having her bottom slippered off all day--and the fact gave Fiera a sense of great satisfaction. Let them think they were taming her. Fiera ignored the quivering in her heart that told her how close to that she had almost come before she figured out a separate and sucessful outlet.

At last, with another smile, the Sister unfurled a tale of the rivary between men and women and began explaining the basics of the One Power, even though the majority of it Fiera had already known. With a sinking feeling, Fiera realized this lesson would not be a practical demonstration and what she should be doing was taking notes. She grimaced inwardly, rubbing her neck in sheepish indignation. How was she to know the wouldn't even be touching the source today! It was all so...so...UNFAIR! She soothed her curling expression and formed the flame and the void, trying to make her soul a part of that emptiness but failing mserably. She could never that that stupid trick right either! Her trainer had always warned her that her control was abysmal. Arranging her features into a resolute passive attentiveness, she resumed her dreamy study of Jaydena Sedai's odd mask, wondering idly what something like that could mean...Perhaps a private penance? She barely absorbed the Green's next words. "In most cases, men were more adept with Fire and Earth, while women were more talented with Air and Water. Both are equally strong in Spirit it seems." Fiera's eyes snapped back into focus, glaring augers into the fading air created from her mentor's words. "But there are exceptions?" she interrupted more sharply than she should of and compensated by adding a submissive, "Jaydena Sedai?" Fiera had been under the impression a channeler could select which elements they could weave more masterfully. Perhaps it was not the most well developed theory, but she had always liked to have control over everything that could even remotely possibly intercept her life. Fire and air had always appealed to her, so she found herself rather put out by the chance those might not be her strongest elements. Besides, despite Jaydena's rationalizations, it still sounded to Fiera like the men had he better part of the deal. How typical that the generally physically stronger species also wielded the more hazardous elements. This must be proof that the Creator was male.

Fiera soon found herself drifting between sleep and consciousness, contemplating details that were in no way concerned with what was presently being discussed. She was simply not overly fond of hearing stale information circulating continuously. She had already learned the majority of this from other Novices and outside lessons, so her anxious nerves were far from being relaxed by this suspense and uncalled-for boredom. She kept hoping the woman would begin speaking at a supernatural speed or wrap up her speech already so they could progress to actually channeling arrows of fire and avalanches, but every word her mentor spoke brought Fiera closer to the possibility there would be no contact with the One Power today; that was a possibility she would not be able to safely bear. She could sense the heat at the corner of her vision, the sinuous, trembling, drop of light that beckoned her seductively, called...crooned musically in her ear and begged for her to stroke it...Suddenly, the charming force dissipated as if in dissapointment, and, for the second time, Fiera found herself jerking to awareness. Jaydena had ceased talking and was eyeing her rather speculatively. Fiera struggled to recall what she had heard Jaydena saying, in a sense, but nothing came to mind. Now appearing truely embarrassed--this would entail a whipping for certain--, she croaked, "Yes?" "My child, these are the names of every Sister who has been Stilled in the History of the Tower and why. Memorize them. You may be asked later, at random, to tell me about them. I expect you will know them inside and out. If you'd like to know more you can find more information on each in the library. I encourage you to research them extensively. Only by keeping in mind our past mistakes can we succeed in not repeating them. Learn from them so you do not have to pay the price they did for foolishness. Tomorrow we will begin our working with Saidar. I would like you to get plenty of sleep tonight, eat well, and be on time to the lesson. This class will be the beginning of your entry into a wonderful and amazing new world and I know you will live up to the challenge."

Fiera nodded numbly, taking the parchment with wilting fingers. Tomorrow...A whole day of hopeless waiting and a guaranteed sleepless night...Not another day of this terrible waiting! She wanted to scream in frustration and throw the bench she was tenderly balanced over at her mentor's masked head for doing this to her, for failing to notice how very important it was that Fiera interact with Saidar today, but that would just get her eating a fireball before she could proceed to rip Jaydena's lovely cascading curls off her perfectly shaped head. "Yes, certainly, Jaydena Sedai," she simpered with barely intelligible hints of a growl, gaining her feet and curtsying swiftly. "Thank you; you won't be disappointed." She gave one last sickening smile and sulked her way back to her cramped room, bodily shoving past all the little idiots who hindered her disgruntled progress to a session of screaming garbled oaths at her rather deaf wall.

[eekk, it's so ramble-y! Sorry it's so disjointed!]

I PMed it to C. but I'll PM it to you now =]

k, I PMed it to you. Did you get it?

hmmm, that's weird because I sent it...My email must be acting up because it looks like Dali didn't get it either :roll: silly yahoo. Ok, so I'll PM it to you in a sec since email is not working out so great for me =] I'm probably too used to replying to email rather than sending it =]

and yea, an RP would be fun after I get my char approved! I'll look forward to that :)

thanks you guys, I guess I'll email it to him then! Hopefully there'll be no need for butt kicking after I do =]

Hi! I was just a little confused, because I emailed my bio quite a while ago and got no response. So I emailed the mhael like it said in the Blacktower board but again got no response. Did anybody get my bio or have I been sending it to the wrong email or something? Yes, I can be a little silly like that Thanks!

It was the trollocs again. Hairy snouts and clawed paws, maws jutting out at unusual angles from attempting to support too many jagged rows of frenzied teeth at once, teeth that ripped and tore into live human flesh as if it were nothing more than overripe tomatoes basking in a midwife’s yard, dripping sickened pulp the color of blood. They snarled at one another, chuckling in guttural voices that could only find home in the pit of Dhoom as they hurled rusted axe blades at her gilded door, the stench of their rotting breath permeating the air in until it boiled thickly like the Aiel Waste, though the naked trees rattling feebly by her window indicated it was deep in the heart of winter. They would burst through her barricade any moment now, and she did not have a single weapon on hand. What had happened to the palace personnel? She could no longer hear the resonating screams of the servants pitched just high enough so that they blatantly declared it was one of death. The rasping clash of swords from the tower guard had long since faded into the distance and left only the cold, empty silence and the roar of attack from the writhing creatures at her door. She was alone. There could be doubt of it now. Many hours later, they would find her crouched by her bed and missing limbs and organs, still, unmoving, alone in her cowardly hiding and alone in her miserly death. Fiera Evelin Tai’shar, powerful countess of the intrepid Saldea could not expire in such a way! The girl scrabbled to her feet and opened herself to Saidar, allowing the swift river of calm fill her trembling soul. But the source refused to return her embrace and left her hollow and waiting, fighting down the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Nothing…The groaning of wood screeched in her ears. For a moment, it seemed is if her door was swelling outwards, ready to give birth to some terrible calamity that would lay waste to the Light of the world. Then the bulge strained and broke. All she could smell was the acid stink and the flames that curled forward, scorching and black, fully prepared to consume her wilting soul. She screamed.

Her head rang as if bludgeoned mercilessly by an anvil as Fiera jerked awake in a cold lather, her despairing shriek still resounding in her ears. She slapped a hand to her mouth, only to find it obediently closed. For a moment she sat still and confused, but realization quickly dawned on brain, pushing out the murky webs that still lingered from deep sleep. It was not her who had given voice to their woes. She hastily straightened her thin nightdress around herself and slid from her bed, her hair lying in rumpled waves almost to her elbows. Deigning not to waste time fixing her slightly tousled particulars, she tottered from her room—her bottom had all become one dull ache from the Mistress of Novice’s boundless generosity—and jutted her head into the shadowy marble hallway, giving a slight start when she realized she was far from the only spectator of this strange bedtime rendezvous. Her first thought was embarrassment at her bedraggled garb, but she soothed herself when she noticed everybody else was more or less in the same state. She was not everybody else, however, so she consciously straightened her back and pushed back her shoulders to regain her imperious air and regain every inch her lacking height would grant her, turning to largely ignore the existence of everyone else crowding the hallway. Her sharp green eyes took account of the situation and flicked to the end of the corridor to where all the other orbs seemed to be glancing fixatedly. Her emerald augers swept over the crumpled form of an unconscious girl—the goose—and finally came to rest on something entirely more disturbing.

A young woman was slumped against a pristine wall, completely hunched into herself as if seeking protection within the very core of her being. It was obvious to see why. Her sleek, bare body was a battlefield of lurid scars snaking their way up her dimpled skin. Blood coursed from unseen, gaping wounds, matting the pallid floors with pools and smothered streaks of raw crimson. She was a sack of blubbering, sniveling, weakness and Fiera was not pleased that she had encroached upon her sleep. How could people bear to wallow so immensely into their self-pity? All the initial shock she had felt rapidly drained out of her, leaving only a perturbed and slightly irritated shell of callous interest. She had seen many worse spectacles of blood and gore in Saldea, but what had captured her curiosity was what had reduced the woman to such a state. Perhaps she had been involved with one too many skirmishes with shadowspawn…or perhaps they were in the Tower now, judging by her freely dripping wounds! A tremor of excitement trilled up Fiera's spine and she snatched at Saidar, willing it to filter into her imagined weaves of fire and destruction. To her great annoyance, nothing happened whatsoever. A faint growl rose in her throat and she begrudgingly snapped her gaze back to the quivering girl, her brain working to formulate how she could get the fool to explain who was laying siege to the White Tower. She could always walk up and shake it out of her…Without thinking, her feet forged forward on their own, soon falling into smooth motion as she concurred, and gliding her closer to the heap of a woman. That whimpering goose was going to talk and somehow intertwine this whole affair with trollocs if it was the last thing this foolishly obstinate Saldaen girl got out of her. Sure the sheep had rescued Fiera from witnessing herself being dunked into a trolloc cook pot, but that was for Fiera to know and her to never find out.