G'day Rolan from Tear/Texas!

Welcome to DM - hopefully you're finding it meets your book/cinephile and culture needs 🙂

Nice to see a fellow language/cultures/food fiend, book-nerd and Y2K 10th grader popping in!

Do you have any favourite places/people/food/languages to study besides Japan/Japanese? (I have forgotten almost every word now, and have sadly never been to Japan as yet, but Japanese was my introduction to loving foreign language-learning, waaaaaaaaay back in primary school days ❤️ ).

If you haven't found it already, the Band of the Red Hand group has specific focus on travel, food and music... I haven't been there for a while so can't speak to current activity, but the group/people there were always fun!

Calia studied the man in front of her as his gaze slipped from hers. He took a long draw of his water, continuing to look elsewhere.

Elessar had told her much of himself and his past this night, opening up about his loss of Leandreen, the rage and near-madness that followed, the subsequent guilt and shame that plagued him always - and the intermittent 'patches' of black mood that still engulfed him from time to time. She had watched flickers of guilt, grief, shame, vulnerability, empathy, pride and strength pass across his face as he shared his thoughts and stories. They had been held back and hidden at points, though plain enough for her to decipher - his stories of losing his Leandreen and other bond-holders, and the feelings that went along with them, were far more familiar to her than he could possibly know.

Time and time again Calia caught herself noting how deep and freely he felt things still, this warrior-poet Leandreen had left behind, and that it was taking more effort than usual to keep the walls solid around her own emotions during his sharing. That internal response unsettled her – the number of people and moments that ever affected her thus these days were very, very few and far between. She was managing it somewhat effectively though, she reasoned. And there was, undeniably, something about this man that drew her attention like Ta’veren drew together points in the pattern. What she didn’t know was where her thoughts and threads were most tangled, or what the Wheel was willing for this particular part of its weave. Change direction, or stay the course?

She watched with curiosity as the Warder’s dark eyes continued to look anywhere but at her. Those same eyes had shone with what she had labelled firm belief and pride as the gaidin voiced his continued faith in the benefits of a bond, his opinion that the benefits outweighed the risks, dangers - and tears. For all his voice had quietened somewhat with his acknowledgement of the last, he had said 'yes' to her final question with confidence. Yes, he would want and appreciate another bond – if it was to the ‘right’ Aes Sedai.

Then he had looked away.

Why?

***

Straightening her spine ever so slightly, Cal sipped her tea and then set the cup gently back on the saucer. She watched the surface of the drink undulate back and forth despite her attempted care, watched the tea leaves swirling to and fro in the depths of the brew with the momentum that had gathered, just from those simple movements.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction… She resisted a sudden urge to smooth the swaying liquid to stillness with Saidar and instead settled slowly against the back of her chair.

Intricate concepts, momentum and inertia, she mused - and she wasn’t just thinking about the tea. For all the blend of ingredients was actually delicious, the shifting liquid and the tousled tea leaves struck her as a perfect metaphor for her newly wavering sense of equilibrium and her current indecision concerning the benefits and drawbacks of maintaining a bond with a warder.

Where, she wondered, is the best balance? She didn't know.

Is Elesssar right? She didn't know.

Do the benefits outweigh the risks? She didn't know that either, but she did know that the risks were ultimately greater for others, and that she now realised she had no right to be the only one making the decisions. 

The tea really was delightful. For a moment, she settled for an easier decision and course of action. Forgetting the turbulence in the cup for a moment, she took another sip. And was promptly rewarded with several limp, soggy and bitter leaves on the tongue as a result.

The irony brought the tiniest of wry smiles to her lips, even as she sucked in her cheeks with distaste. If she had been the sort prone to superstition, she thought, she might have considered taking that as a sign that things would inevitably turn sour.

As it was, her thoughts took a more logical focus.

Can bitterness ever actually be avoided?

If it is a key characteristic of a mixture’s main ingredient, is it futile to even try?

She didn’t know.

Can one even blend effectively with another, without ultimately being left limp and weak? Does the change in individual parts even matter if the sum of them creates a stronger whole?

She didn’t know that either.

How do you know what is going to be a potent enough blend?

Cal set the cup down yet again, and tried not to sigh out loud. Her thoughts and this metaphor were getting her nowhere. They were nothing short of avoidant procrastination, and she knew it. The real issue, the real answers, the way forward - were right in front of her, all but staring her in the face.

***

She looked askance at Elessar, sitting across from her, his eyes still elsewhere. He hadn’t said what characteristics made for the ‘right’ type of Sister, but she could guess at some of the likely traits on his list. For starters, unless he was intending to completely reverse his previous preferences, Calia assumed he would still prefer to be bonded to a Green.

Wanting a change would be understandable, given his history, she supposed.

He was capable of being truly enraptured with a well-performed ballad or poem, after all. She allowed herself to consider that a similar-minded Brown might do. Then supposed perhaps a Blue who wasn’t afraid to stand up and fight would be an ok match also, given that he had strong principles and was passionate about saving the world and others.

But somehow, neither of those options felt as right as a choice of Green for the gaidin in front of her. For all his previous comments about maybe being ‘too old’ for fighting, she had watched the man come alive when he was fighting the Shadow – imbued with an energy that surpassed even his interest in a good verse or story. And his skill, focus and determination were plain for all to see. The Battle Ajah was where he belonged, she thought. After all, he was still alive after almost insurmountable odds. He was still seeking out missions like this one, and more than holding his own. He was the type of gaidin and fighter any Sister would be proud to have by her side – but his skills and the tendencies she had observed thus far were very well suited to the Green. As were his looks, with the repeated winks from waitresses wherever they went to prove it. She smiled recalling them.

Plus, he had said himself that he and Calia shared the same vision, standing ready against the darkness.

And he was right.

The two of them were a good match, and so far as a team, they worked together well - even unbonded. They had been in sync from those first moments of dealing with unexpected thugs in the Tar Valon alley. Chances were they would make an even more capable pair against the shadow, skill-wise, if they chose to bond. And she’d known that all along.

***

It wasn’t a question of trust, or skill, or distraction away from fighting the Shadow, really. Elessar had proven his worth time and time again, and she was truly confident in his skill and dedication to the cause.

But risking another bonding had been the last thing from her mind, quite deliberately. For so long.

Until that stupid mistake with the trolloc by the river.

Until she had been forced to admit she wasn’t just as effective on her own.

Until now, with Elessar saying it was something he wanted.

Now it was more a question of emotional safety and how to minimise the risk for him. She did not want to be responsible for another Warder’s death. She didn’t know if she was willing to risk anyone’s life just to extend and improve the blows she could deal to the Shadow, didn’t know how she could justify the promise of another`s life before hers, how she could stomach to live with the threat of that as truth, again - ever.

She closed her eyes for a second, as if the world around her going dark could black out the shadows in her mind.

If he truly meant it, if he truly wanted another bond and he was certain that the benefits of a bond were more important than the painful consequences and risks of it ending in yet more tears, one way or another. And if she was the type of Aes Sedai he wanted to bond, it might be worth it. Maybe they could make it work enough to make a difference, and maybe they could make it work without both their worlds coming to a soul-shattering end.

Pinning anything on hope was pointless, she knew – in the end there were just never any guarantees, and hope was always too easily shattered.

***

"There are indeed risks on the path before us," she said softly, eyes open now, studying his face once more. "I think that is the only thing any of us can be sure is guaranteed, fighting the Shadow…That and the scars borne by those of us left behind."

She paused.

“On that point, we undoubtedly agree… and thank you for trusting me with your story – and for taking the time to answer the questions I’ve posed to here,” she kept her gaze on him as open and sincere as possible.

“I doubt that the scars either of us bear will ever fully heal, Elessar.”

Allowing the truth of her feelings to bubble to the surface, she added “- but I’ll have you know that even in your dark mood, you do not act as damaged goods, nor have I ever considered you so. In fact, right from the moment I met you, you have always done yourself, and your brotherhood, credit in your actions and resolve. You have done a remarkable job keeping yourself - and me - alive. Truly, rather than a 'damaged good' you have proven far more like one of those objects some cultures would repair the cracks of with gold, improving strength and flexibility whilst providing proof that the scars of your past have led to further value.”

She took a breath to let the words sink in as much as they were able, wondering if he would look at her.

After a considerable moment, she let the breath slide back out in a sigh and leant forward once more.

***

“Elessar,” her voice was still soft in volume, but it was strong and direct in tone.

“I wish I had half of your conviction about the true balance of a bond - If I had, I’d have proposed one to you a handful of days after meeting you in Tar Valon.”

Another deep breath.

“What you’ve just said, about wanting a bond – with the right Aes Sedai, about the benefits far outweighing the risks and the pain - I’d be lying if I said your words – and your actions to date haven’t given me some hope and an inkling of the same belief. But… I want to be open and honest with you, as you have with me. Your response, as much as I half-expected it would be so, is a frighteningly tempting, bitter-sweet, potentially dangerous mix of possibilities for me to try and swallow.”

She lifted the tea and sipped slowly, carefully - trying not to catch any of the leaves.

***

She didn’t want him to look at her at all now, she realised suddenly. It was going to be hard enough to speak what was coming next – to illuminate hope whilst highlighting the fragility of it all and recalling the ways it had been shattered in the past. But the words between them had started, and now she owed him her own hidden truths and understanding of the risks, her vulnerabilities.

The tea leaves were still spinning in her tea.

“You were right in your guess that I have known losses, fighting the Shadow – how could I not have, being Green as long as this? And the more losses I’ve known – the more lives before mine - the more unstable my belief in the worth of the bond has become. And herein lies the problem. I’m one of the strongest Greens alive, Power-wise – but in all my years, I have never shared the unshakeable … ability or belief … of most of my Shawl Sisters to re-bond as quickly as possible after my Warders have died,” the last words were softer than those before, and she sat back, looking at her hands in her lap.

“Elessar, the truth is I haven’t had a Warder for many, many years. Until that day by the river – until you were the only thing that saved me – I had been unabashedly and entirely dependent on nothing but my own Power, and an occasional link with a Sister, to strike at the Shadow and keep myself – and others - safe. But like I said, things have been shifting in my mind. And now I wonder if my logic leaps - the idea that bonds form the root of distraction and emotional destabilisation - stand up to scrutiny at all. I wonder if it should be my right to stand between others and what they are driven to see as their duty, simply because I fear it could end in their death.”

She swirled the tea and leaves purposelessly around the cup.

“Perhaps, rather than serving others in this, I’ve been wrong, and selfish, and simply too afraid to try. Maybe,” she all but whispered before cutting herself off, lifting her chin and voice to start again, “- Maybe that’s because despite my relative strength, I am weaker with dealing with the loss of a bonded, and despite being otherwise brave, I am excessively afraid of being destabilised by the emotions in a bond.”

She drew another deep breath, deciding she would be even more open with him than this: he needed to know certain facts to accurately evaluate whether she was the ‘right’ type of Aes Sedai’ for him.

“And…Or - maybe it’s because each of my Warders lost to date was so much more than just a Warder. I truly loved them more than anything else - even the fight against the Shadow. And maybe,” her words picked up speed, “maybe that right there was the greatest flaw and biggest reason for my weakness, or maybe it was our greatest strength while it lasted – I truly do not know. I just know that losing them broke me like nothing else, and at points afterwards I near shattered a great many other lives and hopes in the first instance - and not all of them were Shadow.”

More aimless swirling of the leaves followed her words. For a while she worked very, very intently on recalling the compassion and gentle strength of her closest Sisters as they held her and her power safe and secure that first time, rather than the terror on the faces around her in the moments before.

Then she downed the last of the tea and set the cup on the saucer.

***

“I told you when you recited ‘Moon and Star’ that I was married once, to a true love – that I ‘lost my head’ with grief when he died?” she led with a question, but she didn’t -couldn’t- wait for his reaction before continuing.

“- Aaran was the third Warder whose life was taken ‘before mine’- to save mine. We were in love for double the amount of time we were bonded and married. I’m- still not sure whether saying yes to him on either count was the best move of my life, or my deepest regret. I do know, however, that his life ended because he was bound - in more ways than one - to save mine, even against overwhelming odds. I am thankful to be alive and still fighting, of course, but I also hate, beyond measure, that he is not." She would have added that she also hated the way it was all her fault for giving in, for saying yes, for not being strong enough to refuse for him forever, for his own good - but the veil over that guilt was slipping, and once the distortion of truth had been considered, she couldn't lie. If there were two sides to every connection, every bonding, then what right did she have to minimise the decisions and interests of the other side, to make a a claim of totality at any point?

When she could continue without her voice giving way, she added, “The first two were my older brothers – and they were everything to me, from the moment I was born.”

Words like those were never enough to communicate the absolute depth of feelings she’d had, and still had, for each of the three men she’d lost as Warders, she thought.

Though her gaze was strictly on Elessar, images of her brothers in their younger years danced through her memory, all but overlaying her true field of vision. Joesh: carrying her on his shoulders through the apple orchards at home when she could barely walk; stopping the wandering paws of many a drunk and handsy patron as herself and Kaylan served up cider, ale or mischief on the late shifts at the inn; laughing at her surprise as he whirled her around in the air with his and Shem's unexpected arrival at the Tower; talking earnestly with her at the White Flame; focused as he concentrated on the forms, half hidden in a field of fog; standing ready at her side with blade drawn and fancloak shifting in the sunlight. Shem: tears streaming down his face, rivers of pure agony while all three of their hearts broke, the pain echoing around and around the bond, amplified to - and beyond - the power of three.

Several images blurred so easily with moments of her more recent past and memories composed around the man in front of her now. The talk and meeting in Tar Valon, at the White Flame itself; watching him train in the morning mists of Stelton, from her window of the Red Fox; seeing the whirl of his cloak and his smile as he saved her neck from the trolloc blade by the river… catching the grief in his face, sensing his dark cloud, the reign of pain and tears, descend.

Yes, words were all she had for now, so for now, those would have to suffice. She hoped they had been enough for Elessar to understand.

***

“Please forgive my arrogance if I am suddenly too personal, or jumping to the wrong conclusions here, Elessar. But now that I have heard your opinion on the bond itself, I would know your true preferences in terms of what you might desire between us, if you will share it? What sort of Aes Sedai would you deem right for you to serve, for example? And now that you’ve heard my reasons for not bonding, could the right sort of Sedai be me?”

‘Well,’ she thought, knowing Neve - and many others - would have conniptions at such a blatant lack of diplomacy in such a situation, but there it was. She had always been direct, not one to beat bushes or speak garlands. ‘There’s nothing like jumping straight into the barrel instead of sniffing first, or sipping with a stalk of hay,' she thought. Her Da had always meant that sarcastically at home, but she preferred overlooking that particular nuance - to her ears, the saying was always better as the truth.

“I’m sorry I haven’t asked you earlier to be my Warder, if that is something you would truly desire, and it is something you feel the benefits are worth being bound to, even ‘til death?"

She phrased it as a question, just in case. Not that she could, or would lie - honesty was the best policy when it came to both the Oaths, and setting up a solid foundation for any lasting relationship. But the truth she omitted out loud was that she would be far sorrier to have asked and had that question lead to Elessar's death without knowing the entirety of the answer.

"I am very thankful to have you in this party, and to have had you fighting so dutifully by my side. As I said, it is essentially the risks of bonds themselves I have doubts about – not you, or your service and abilities.

For my part, I see potential strength and, I must admit, much sense in us working together - and a number of ways to bring those together to fruition against the Shadow. One of those ways could be a bonding - if you truly desire it knowing what you now know - and whatever else you might want to ask. But first I want to know what you want, for yourself.

“I know that what I want is to fight  every battle from here to Tarmon Gaidon to the best of my ability, turn every possible thread of success to the side of the Light. I know that I am headstrong and prone to throw my all at the Shadow given half a chance. I will always analyse risks, but I know I will not always consider my safety paramount – and I know that this would be a danger to anyone who functions otherwise. And for all of those reasons, and those outlined before, I will not ask you to sign your life up to be given away before mine. I cannot."

She paused for breath, and to drop the Aes Sedai mask completely from her face once again. Openly she said, “You have already done more than enough, and you owe me nothing. I, on the other hand, owe you anything and everything I am still alive and able to give. Beyond that, I truly respect you, and I would be honoured to have you continue to fight by my side – in any capacity you choose. But the options of how that might happen are open, and I want to do right, and respect your right to direct your life in this matter,” she emphasised those lasts point again, followed by an outwardly steady conclusion - "the decision is yours.”

And all of that was true in its entirety, no words of omission.

Had he truly meant it? The thoughts were whirling in place of the tea. Did he truly want another bond and was he was certain that the benefits of a bond were more important than the painful consequences and risks of it ending in yet more tears? Worth being bound even tighter to the risk of death when fighting the Shadow? Was she the ‘right’ type of Aes Sedai for him? Could they make a partnership between them work enough to make a difference, without further damage to each other, or their cause?

She stared into the dregs of her tea as she waited for his questions or answers, however they might come - and almost smiled.

She wasn’t one for superstition, but even still. She could almost believe the way the now-pale tea leaves stood out in a perfect circle of brightness against the dark staining on the bottom of her teacup was a positive sort of sign.  

Calia sensed Neve’s head turn toward her, felt the weight of attention as dark Saldaean eyes shifted focus from the road ahead and searched her face as the question hung unanswered in the air.

Keeping her back straight and hands loose on the reins in front of her, Cal turned her own head to catch her Sister’s stare.

“Well?” she asked, her face carefully neutral.

The way Neve’s eyebrows were lifted ever-so-slightly as she studied Cal's demeanour confirmed it wasn’t necessary to repeat the whole question – she had heard the entirety of the spoken words and then some, Cal was certain.

Beyond the Blue Sister, Liss kept her eyes deliberately forward, for all Cal’s question had been clearly directed at them both. She was counting on input from both of them for this - all three of them had been keeping an eye on the Warder in question over the past five days or so, and the change in his demeanour would not have gone unnoticed any more than the potential intent behind Cal’s questioning.

“Well,” Neve answered, turning her gaze to the group of gaidin riding ahead, her eyebrows drawing downward as she began considering her response, “I have heard of something similar being done… but I do not remember whether that was in reference to an actual act witnessed in our current age, or simply mentioned in history texts. You know as well as I that a true Yellow would likely know more on the subject, and be the best to ask concerning the exact methods in any case - the details are as vague in my mind as the context you seem to propose.”

She flicked her attention back to Calia’s face, studying the deliberately-smooth expression as she always had: reading between the lines no-one else could see with open ease.

“I am always interested in further discussion though, Cal, and would consider it an honour to offer assistance - should that be possible, and should the request ever be made.”

Cal smiled, inclining her head to acknowledge the many layers of the discussion beneath the spoken words, and the generosity of the assistance offered for every level - without the slightest wisp of judgement or a push for more.

“Light I’ve missed having you around, Neve!”

“I’ll bet,” the Blue said with a twinkle in her eye. “You say that every time though - and unless I’m mistaken, it’s still your choice to keep such distance, and I’ve yet to convince you to stay for good!”

“…Even if the benefits are clear!” Liss added with a cheeky wink.

“As are the risks!” Cal countered seriously. “For all involved!”

Neve nodded her head soberly, “Absolutely.” Her eyes flicked toward Kerin, the depth of her understanding evident in her gaze - not to mention the way the Warder's head suddenly turned back sharply in her direction, a question of alarm and concern in every angle of the move.

Liss’ two Warders did likewise.

The two women shook their heads almost imperceptibly, and all three gaidin turned slowly back around in their saddles, apparently content to do so, for all each of them still held their every muscle on high alert.

Cal sighed, simultaneously grateful for her Sisters’ solidarity and wishing none of them ever need recall the depth of the horror of the events that had proven their understanding and support over the years. Still, it was comforting somehow, knowing these two knew her inside-out and at her worst - and still always had her back, always had her best interests at heart.

But still, an unsettled thought wormed its way through her mind as the sun beat down from the cloudless blue sky above, Will that truly be enough against the Shadows of all the battles to come? 

Calia returned her gaze to the road ahead. She truly didn't know.

**

Later, as the party turned onto the dusty road toward familiar Renajhar, Liss sidled her mare alongside Calia’s once more, interrupting the internal contemplation and calculations with a knowing smile.

“The risks always exist, Cal, in one way or another. For all of us. Especially those of us who have lived – and live on to fight.” The Captain-General eyed her meaningfully before continuing.

“The decision of how you fight on is still yours alone to make, however. Beyond that, Light knows the weave belongs to the will of the Wheel - and you know we will support you either way.” Her voice was steady and matter-of-fact.

Cal nodded understanding and thanks as Liss trotted forward, both of them lifting their hoods against the chill from the Blight that was nipping at their necks as they entered the village.

She sat straighter in her saddle, shifting her brain back into gear and using the remaining time to plan the tasks she had ahead of her this evening – namely a contact to follow up and a report of anything relevant to the Captain General, followed by a much anticipated bath and an aforementioned hearty meal.

There was no use chasing her own thoughts round and round in her head before then, in any case. Only then would she be able to regroup with Elessar, Light willing, and ask the questions she wanted answers to.

**

It took until after the meal, and a quick chat with Neve - who had confirmed via Kerin that Elessar’s poetry book had made an appearance in their down time - for Calia to decide she would, in fact, attempt to reconnect with the man whose dark cloud seemed to have lifted, and get to the bottom of the series of questions and doubts that were plaguing her mind.

She smiled when she looked up to find him approaching, his dark eyes squarely on hers as he gave his practiced Warder’s bow and politely requested a seat in her company. 

“I want to apologize for brushing you off the other night,” he began, “It was disrespectful. I was ..in a dark mood. It was a bad day. I am sorry.” He glanced at the table, away from her face, hiding shadows of shame as he talked.

“Elessar.” Cal kept her voice direct but understanding, leaning towards him and daring to reach a hand across the table to cover his briefly.

“Thank you for your apology, though I am quite certain there was no disrespect taken or intended – the mood and the rough day was obvious.” She lightened her tone, “Or rather, the rough five days,” she emphasised.

“Sincerely,” she held his gaze along with his hand, “I am sorry they struck you down so, and that nothing appeared to help but time. You weren’t wrong, in any case – and you don’t really need to apologise! And... I am here if you care to talk to me a little bit more about what was going in the days afterward?” Her blue eyes burned with concern and her own level of understanding as she searched his own dark eyes and waited for his response.

...

“Truthfully, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you,” she offered quietly some time later, keeping her gaze intently on his, hoping her sincerity showed through.

“I know I thanked you afterward, but since then,” she sighed, “– I can’t seem to make up my mind on the line between the stuff of nightmares and the stuff of dreams! When it comes to the Aes Sedai-Warder bond, the risks and consequences of connected bondings seem so impossibly high, on every side." Her voice shook ever so slightly.

"And I can’t argue the logic that bonds end in tears. Or be confident the risks are worth it! Knowing you’re unbonded - and at least part of the reasons why - I figured you, of all people here, might understand that part of it all, at least...

But. The growing rumours of Shadow rising … our experiences on this trip to date … Now I can’t stop wondering if I haven’t been increasing the risks of failure somewhat? And I've been hoping your understanding and insight might be helpful in discussing various points and balances for and against, if you'd care to share other thoughts?" She paused.

"Would you consider a bond again, for example? Given the risks of inevitable darkness and tears?"

Cal inclined her head smoothly and somewhat slowly. An automatic and practiced nod in outward response to Elessar's respectful Warder's bow, the motion gave away nothing about her inner reactions to his answer or his mood.  Those - like her rapid snap of attention to the quietness of the man's words, and the effect of her pulse subtly picking up pace at the sheathing of his sword - were juxtapositions of the sort she had long ago learned to shield entirely from the awareness of outsiders, regardless of how perceptive they could be.

Light, with more than a century's experience behind her smooth Aes Sedai face, regardless of how perceptive she could be - sometimes such masking even helped her hide her inner feelings from herself.

That was a talent. The 'critical key to maintaining focus and balance - unequivocally and constantly essential to life in the shawl'.

She had been told that, once, as a Novice. And many, many times as an Accepted in the Tower. And again, and again, as a younger woman raised to the shawl. And then again even as a moderately aged woman by normal standards.

Without question, that had been the Aes Sedai norm she had most vehemently debated in those 'younger' years (... one could and should mask things from others, when necessary; maintaining outward appearances at times had merit- BUT - life was meant to be lived for the learning granted through experience! And what was 'experience', ultimately? - FEELING!) - she could still remember that passionate defence - believing, wholeheartedly, that what didn't kill you made you stronger; arguing that it was an enormous 'risk and waste of the ageless potential' for Aes Sedai to go about only 'really living' part of their lives.

It was somewhat ironic that she now lived by the opposite motto, and gave her students word-for-word that same age-old advice. Eventually though, she had learnt and experienced enough to know better.

By now, she knew all to well that feeling some of life's experiences wrought only physical, emotional, spiritual and situational chaos, draining, destabilisation and burden. And she was beyond sure that Aes Sedai entertaining such dangerous feelings at full range resulted in 'risk and wasted potential' magnitudes greater than encouraging a somewhat distant norm ever would. She knew how easily feeling certain events could consume or cripple even the most powerful of Sisters, how quickly and completely they alone could bring her - and so many things in the world around her - to her knees, or worse. And just how far from the purpose of 'standing ready' against the Dark One that could be.

No, an Aes Sedai's life was not about feeling her own experience. The benefit to their longer lives lay only in the opportunity for extended awareness of pitfalls to avoid and actions to take to ensure the foundations on which one eventually stood ready against the Dark One were as unshakable as possible.

It may have taken her a long time to really understand and accept those truths and settle her focus, but as the decades of her life had continued to roll by, the ability to mask emotions and shield herself from further feeling had become a talent she was grateful for.

Not that it required her century-plus of life experience to recognise the deep and brooding darkness driving the Warder's countenance tonight, or the danger one such as he could pose to himself and others in the vicinity. And not that she felt a need to hide her awareness of... any of that from Elessar.

With her focus fixed firmly on the retreating form, Calia's blue eyes searched the gloom around the Warder as he walked away, her mind carefully calculating the evidence and effects of his mood in his wake. She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant as Elessar sank into his bedroll, his sharp warrior's form made blurry amid the darkness and the shadows surrounding him in more ways than one.

She hoped the night would be kind. Tears and inner demons were so much easier to deny, if only one could manage to secure good sleep. 

Shield or no shield against unstable feelings, she felt for him. 

The shadow which had passed over his visage, and stayed there, had been decidedly heavy. The words he had uttered had been both more blunt and more cutting than she was used to hearing in his voice. The bitter release of the final twin truths of memory and thought had hit hard, stabbing deeply at both of them - like a double-ended spear. 

With a slow, determined sigh, Cal smoothed a ragged release of caught breath from her aching chest.

There was was no mistaking the exact type of tears the gaidin had referenced. No missing their particular mark in the deeply etched tracks of torment and sorrow across his weathered face. No avoiding the way they welled without limit in the icy cloud of his mood.

... No denying the absolute evidence and inevitability of their existence. 

Or the often extreme difficulty of packing them all up and keeping them at bay. 

Not when they were something you'd ever seen on a Warder's face before.

Not when spying such cracks in another person's façade was just like looking at your own broken reflection in a mirror.

Some such truths still managed to sting, however much one otherwise managed to hide the symptoms. 

With fierce determination, she put a thorough freeze on all feelings and dismissed all conscious thought. Calling her decades of practiced distance into action, she made a concentrated effort to block out every clear and confronting indicator of previous experience and painful truth she had been almost sure she was ready to to mask past and rationally manage to avoid.

It didn't exactly work as planned. 

'Because he isn't wrong', ripples of recognition, experiential understanding and caution echoed through her head and heart.

"So?" she asked herself out loud. 

She suddenly squared up both her shoulders and her chin.  She had blocked out more than just the signs of grief and loss and tears before. Recognising the signs like she just had wasn't weakness - it was a strength that could be played to one's advantage. 

'Plus,' logic argued on uninterrupted, 'Forewarned is forearmed.. And there is still no denying the actual benefits of a bond.'

But was it worth it?

She wasn't sure.

As soon as she had allowed her mind to open back up just enough to consider the possible benefits of bonding, she had been driven to discuss the each of the merits and drawbacks  matter-of-factly with Elessar, and no-one else. Of all the Warders here, he was likely to be the one whose experience most closely matched hers.

Yet Elessar's response tonight had only emphasised the risks - drawing attention to his natural vulnerability, tearing at her own hidden scars. 

And, it had highlighted a side of him she hadn't seen before.

                                                * * *

She was still worried for him, and a little for the rest of the party, Cal realised as she settled into her own  bedroll several hours later. It was as if she could sense the storm of emotion in his very being, even if she was working hard not to feel it. She wasn't sure if that was because of like recognising like, or because she was projecting. True stability in a broken-bonded Warder was an unlikely thing,  she knew.

Still, her gut suggested Elessar had the ability to manage his dark storm of feelings relatively well, or at least safely - for all it was rare that a broken-bonded Warder could do so successfully. She reminded herself frankly that this man had, after all, managed to survive to here - and not just surviving the almost-insurmountable, but continuing to work effectively - applying astute enough insight, skill and reliability to actually impress her on a number of occasions, and even going so far as to save her life. He could be expected to pull through once again, she was almost sure of it, and the odds were much more a matter of not if  but when.

All the same - or perhaps because of that reasoning - she had resolved to pay careful attention to him over the next few days. She would give Elessar all the space she suspected he might need, within the bounds of reasonable safety, and also make it clear that she deemed any opportunity to share his company, skills and conversations  valuable - leaving the prior invitation to spar wide open.

Then, when he was ready, they could at least attempt to pick up where they'd left off.

The thoughts she had before falling asleep were that, perhaps, together they would be able to decipher whether the tears really were inevitable; whether the risks and consequences of connection were too great, and whether they could possibly avoid the scars and torments from their past enough to march together on a mutually stronger path. And where, exactly, the line between the stuff of nightmares and the stuff of dreams truly lay.

On 6/29/2023 at 10:26 AM, Qstar said:

I haven't gotten around to DnD but it's been something on the to do list. Would like to get something going. I also have not ran a play-by-post. If a rp is out together I would be interested in joining.

Fantastic!

Do you have a character arc/story idea in mind that you'd like to play out with Laith at this point, Qstar?

Awesome! I'm just starting up in a group, looking forward to it!

And yes to pbp définition, have read through a few games on other sites, and seems like it would be fun to try and incorporate somehow here - potentially even better as I feel the creative writing quality would be higher... just have to figure how it would all best come together...

Hmm, and by 'Malier' I mean 'Malkier' obviously!

@CaddySedai are you interested in running something for it?

@Jagen Sedai - have you ever played tabletop RPG, or play-by-post with  mechanics other than the way we traditionally do it here (eg with dice rolls/challenges etc)?

Nestled neatly between a wide river bend and the beginnings of a lush, expansive plain, the Tower party's camp stood ready for the evening. The Black Hills were well and truly behind them now. Ahead, the rolling landscape had begun to plateau out, and the taller vegetation alongside the tributaries and roadsides was noticeably thinner - sure signs that the Plain of Lances would soon be underhoof  if they managed to keep up the daily pace. It had been an easy, unanimous decision at midday to stop where they were and set up camp, allowing themselves a half-day of rest and the horses additional grazing while the going was good. 

Some distance away from the bed rolls and cookfire, those who weren't still attending to horses or out hunting were deep into various sessions of training. Calia stood with Neve, Emine and their Warders; Mikael and Kerin. A white net of Spirit shone around her, bright and glistening even in the full light of day. Breathing deeply and slowly, Cal closed her eyes ever-so-briefly, and nodded briskly at the sisters before her. The nod was all it took. The shining weave dropped abruptly and melted into her skin, instantly smothering her ability to touch and draw Saidar. 

The moment the shield was in place, Cal severed her focus from the wave of despair and suffocation that always came with this exercise. There was no preventing the onset of that wave; the awful feeling of threads suddenly snared mid-stitch. No matter how much she trusted Neve and Emine, no matter how often the three of them practiced, no matter how many times she had experienced this, or how ingrained and automatic balanced breathing and self-regulation was for an Aes Sedai of her age: being shielded and separate from the source was always dangerously devastating. Like being on the surviving end of shattered Warder-Sedai bonds, shielding brought with it a wave of destabilising feelings. Always. Lately, Cal had found the wave of feeling harder to shut down - Still-vivid memories of riverside hopelessness frayed the edge of her focus each time she released or was buffered from saidar. It wasn't impossible to cut the feelings off, but it was more difficult than it should have been. 

They were dangerous, these creeping feelings; she knew. The more they lingered, the more she pushed them further under her blanket of control, separated them from the focus of the training. No excuses; in every instance, that first moment of emotional control was crucial - and mis-management was unacceptable. Failing to block out the ripples of the initial shock-wave of emotion meant trying to hold a single thread of sensibility through an enormous tsunami of feelings. That was a near-impossibility that could lead to disaster for the Sedai and everybody counting on her.

Calia had decided many years ago that she would not risk the safety of herself, the others, the balance of any battle or the effectiveness of their work for the Light entertaining such emotions. Control and dedication  - that's how one stood ready.

She shoved hard against the block in front of her - it shifted but didn't budge. She hadn't expected it to: she was strong, but not strong enough to break a shield maintained by two. It was part of the training drill, however, so she did it anyway - once, twice, three times. And then she sidestepped around the Sisters to face their warders.

Now the objective was to test her agility and ability to avoid danger on her own two feet if she ever found herself without access to saidar again. Today she was the last of the Sisters to work through the drill; and as usual, she was the only one among them to be tackling it solo.

Train as you mean to fight and all that. She let the thought slide around. If she had still been bonded, her warder or warders would have been by her side, and she wouldn't be tackling any of this solo at all. If...

Fixing her sights on the target tree behind the two warders, she opened her eyelids as wide as they would go without distorting  the rest of her vision. She calculated a potential path and sprang forward, eyes on the closest warder in his fancloak as she shifted to a sprint.

Kerin's shoulders twitched tight a split second before the makeshift staff he held jabbed forward, aiming at her chest with the speed of a striking snake. Cal jumped back and to the side with a snick of silk pants and a scrunch of leaves underfoot. The stick was coming for her other side in an instant. Her left boot gouged a fresh mark in the earth as she reacted - shifting her weight rapidly and reversing her initial manoeuvre to lunge in the opposite direction. And then the stave-stick was swinging back around - an arc at head height this time.

Bending at the knees and waist, she threw her upper body backwards as quickly as she was able. Even as the stave whistled over her head she frowned and made an internal note that she really needed to work more on her flexibility.

Third and final attack from Ker!  she counted, beginning to right herself. Now Mik - Almost there! 

Except...the next thing she knew, there was a relatively gentle tap to the front of her shoulder and a good-natured chuckle beside her - and she found herself tipping irretrievably backwards and landing abruptly in the dirt. 

And balance, she added to her mental note - she also needed to work more on balance.

Mikael grinned at her and extended a hand down to grasp her forearm and help her up. Kerin took the other arm in a similar fashion.

"Duck from the knees next time," Mikael suggested, demonstrating a fast squat and lunge forward. "Leaning backwards is... bad," he pointed out, still grinning as Calia dusted off the back of her breeches.

"It might just save your head in the first instance," Kerin noted, leaning on his staff then swinging it slowly in an arc that mirrored the one she had ducked with the backward tilt, "but it's a very slow move that is difficult to flow out of -"

"-and very easy to overwhelm past tipping point!" Mikael grinned even wider and tapped her lightly on the shoulder with minimal force again to demonstrate just how little pressure had been needed to send her into the dirt. "Definitely better to duck from the knees if you have to get low."

Cal nodded at the both of them, and swiftly knocked the dust from her palms with a double clap. 

"Ok then - again!" she announced - she needed to be better than this. Determined, she turned and headed back to the start.

***

"Right, agai-"

"Calia!" Neve cut her off with a laugh, "it's nearly sundown, and we've been at this for hours - so no, not again! Today was supposed to be about rest, I'm stealing Kerin back now!" 

Cal planted hands on hips, puffing slightly. She'd mastered the quick squats and lunging up out of the way now - they definitely suited her better these days than the backward lean - but there was still plenty to practice! She respected where the Blue was coming from though. She turned her gaze questioningly to Emine and Mikael, head tilting to the side.

"Not a chance, Cal!" Emine slid past her with a cheeky smile, walking backwards and spreading her arms wide as she continued, "You know I don't mind sharing, but," she took Mikael's hand and dragged him along, "Em's right, and it's time for a bit of relaxation! And ... perhaps ... for you to get your own toy-boy again!" she laughed and ducked away from the scowl Calia sent her way.

The gaidin each grinned, raised their arms in farewell and followed their Sedai.

Calia stifled a groan and sat herself down neatly on a nearby rock to catch her breath and watch the others depart. Liss walked past, Malik and Taysun in tow, and patted her shoulder, eyebrow raised in an expression that could only mean, "Think about it, Cal." Cal looked away.

Her gaze swept past several of the other Gaidin nearby, practicing swordforms in the fading afternoon light. As always, she found it a warming sight to see. "The dancing is sweeter on the edge of a sword..."  the Arafellin saying echoed through her mind, as always, in Aaran's voice. Cal closed her eyes, remembering; allowing the memories of the past to sweep her focus away from the here and now. 

...

They had been actually dancing, the first time Aaran Metsar had uttered that saying to her, followed by, "you know I want to dance on the edge with you, forever." His large eyes had locked to hers and searched her soul, the bells in his braids had jingled softly as he shook his head, smiling wistfully at whatever he saw. "You can't deny we make a good team, Cal," he had said, with a laugh - and he'd been right, even if it took her another five years and a stay with the Aiel to come back to the Tower and admit it to him. 

But she'd been right too: eight years later they'd danced their last dance, the shadow he'd spared her from being quicker than his sword - and it had hurt every bit as much as she had feared - again - and then some. She had nearly come unravelled completely after that, only she couldn't let him have died for nought, so eventually she'd continued to dance, alone. 

...

Toying with the wedding band on the long string of leather around her neck, Calia wondered about the sense and logic of it all. Could there be a bond without weakness, distraction, breaking? She had managed it, once, five years after Aaran, holding a bond with a young Warder for two years and a single mission, until the Sister he truly loved and wanted to serve had gained the shawl. That arrangement had worked well enough, and the mission had certainly been successful. There was no denying the advantages of adding a link or bond, and a skilled Warder's sword to the use of saidar in most situations and battles. Without a doubt, there was something about it that helped one stand ready, and she knew it helped the warders too. But - her heart ached; with the vow of their life before hers, it also helped them die. Still, Liss' recent looks encouraging Cal to think about all this weren't wrong, for all Calia had tried to avoid the direction and subtle order in them. There was no doubt the Shadow was stirring again, and they had no real idea of what they might all be coming up against in Saldaea. Might it be best to fight with a bonded Warder at her side?

She stood up from the rock and stretched, eyes flicking towards the group of gaidin. She couldn't help but wonder if Elessar was amongst them. The man was dedicated to his training and purpose, Calia had noted. 

"Ever ready to fight the Darkness," he had said - and he'd proven himself thus when she'd been distracted, and he'd saved her life. Both times she'd healed him after battle, she'd felt a wash of fatigue that might not have been there if he'd been held in a bond. He knew the pain of broken bonds, though, she knew. Perhaps his independence was as deliberate as hers...

Would he want to be bonded again? Was that something she could offer him? For all the amicable chats they'd had so far on this mission, and the kinship she'd felt developing, she wasn't sure of the answers to either of those questions. She suddenly knew there was, however, only one place to start...

***

"Will you spar with me, gaidin?" she asked when she found him. And directly after, blue eyes locked onto his dark gaze: "Tell me your current opinions on the Warder-Sedai bond?"

Nice work @Qstar !

I expect @Jagen Sedai will be along shortly with approval/further questions etc.

Any ideas on what you might to rp/have Laith working on first? Let us know if you have any ideas/need of other players to join in!

Oooh, what year did you join ( @CaddySedai)? I was around back in the early days too, mostly RP in the WT/Warders/Band from '99 or so, with a break a few years in. 

The duration of your chat RP is truly impressive! 

Nothing wrong with a good wall of text 🤣  I hear you on the differences, though I've never done chat-based, the original DM days when everyone was online at once could be pretty rapid! I miss those days, and honestly believe good forum rps can also run without loss of character agency, just takes thought and careful weaving!

Would you have any interest in starting up or joining a thread in either of the RP streams here? I.e. running, or playing a temporary/permanent character, maybe in in the 'fall of Malier' type setting you mentioned before?

I for one would love to see it happen, and would be happy to play/help/setup any way you'd like!

Have you played RPGs or similar in real-time or play-by-post settings before @Qstar and also @Siera and @CaddySedai?

Like Kathleen said, there's also the option of shorter-term adventures here now (in the Portal Stone/One-shot) that don't require super in-depth bios etc to play and could a fun intro/way to start out!

Loving the idea of a 'Fall of Malkier' type adventure too @CaddySedai - would you like to run one?

🤔🙂

10 minutes ago, Qstar said:

I have read through the various boards in New Beginnings. Including the general information. In order to keep things organized and stick to the CoC/guidelines/character creation, I would require that someone help me with the bio if possible. Thanks!

 

Best!

Good effort - there's a lot of info there!

(Don't be too scared by it all though!!)

You mentioned being drawn to creating a Warder character for NBRP?

When you think on it, are there any inklings on certain personality traits/ quirks/ appearance features/ points on backstory that get your creativity buzzing? Best tip I have at that point is build the character up from there!

Then flesh out the info under the bio headings (see spoiler) from Jaegan's post here (She's a master bio-checker, after all - she knows her stuff!).

And if you find yourself stuck or stalling with anything in particular, start a question post in the OOC boards/ DM staff and we'll be around to help (we don't bite often!).

Handy Links/Resources

Know of relevant resources and links that would be great to have pinned?

Go ahead and post suggestions in the main OOC board!

Starter Guide - Game Players

More information will be coming soon

But if you want to play, go ahead and get started on your adventure using  info from the FAQs!

Your GMs and board staff will be happy to help you out!

STARTER GUIDE - GAME MODERATORS

Welcome, future Mods!

All you have to do to start the adventures is create and manage posts as below:

1. Recruitment/Moderation threads (on Main board)

2. Game Thread (in IC Campaigns)

(See Spoilers for Specific Details)

Recruitment Thread

Moderation/Action Thread
 

The Game Thread

***

Go ahead! Get started! We can't wait to see the wild adventures in these parts of the boards take off!

REMEMBER

As long as the game fits with Dragonmount's Guidelines and Code of Conduct, there are no limits to the type of PbP game you can run as a Campaign...

If you have further questions, DM @Cass, and/or post here 

RP staff are about on a regular basis and will be happy to help you out. 

 FAQs

What are 'Portal Stone Adventures / One-Shot Campaigns'?

What type of story/role-playing systems can be played here?

"The Pattern has infinite variation... and every variation that can be, will be."²

How does it work?

How do I join/play?

What do I post Where? (summary)

I have more questions, help!

"The Lines that join the Worlds That Might Be, laid by those who knew the Numbers of Chaos." ¹

Welcome home to Dragonmount's newest option for Roleplaying!

- Portal Stone Adventures / One-Shot Campaigns - 

Table of Contents

1. FAQs

2. Starter Guide - Game Moderators

3.Starter Guide - Players

4. Handy Links / Resources

_{1. The Wheel of Time Companion (2015), 'Portal Stones'.}

The cloud of grey bloomed suddenly above the trees. An utterly silent explosion, the billowing, wispy smoke churned violently at the centre, softening and spreading at the edges as it bled across the backdrop of the otherwise flawlessly azure sky. Below the stains of smoke and cloud, funeral flames raged in a blue-hot blaze. An unnaturally smooth column of upwardly spiralling ash and sheets of white-grey smoke connected cloud and flames in the fading afternoon light.

To the Sisters, linked and channeling for maximum impact and efficiency, that blue-hot blaze in front of them was fed by a tornado of raging red Fire and white-hot Spirit, and tightly contained in a chimney of yellow Air.

It was over in moments. The eleven broken bodies, whose death-blows had proven cleaner than many of the other pre-existing injuries they had displayed, marked the world in soot and smoke, and disappeared. 

Cal released her link with Amaya and Sarelle, dropped the mask of air from her face and silently thanked the Light that Liss' chimney and link with Emine had successfully spared them all the lingering, acrid, sulfuric stench of burnt hair and bone this time. With a final shake of her head, she smoothed the green silk of her riding pants over her hips with her hands, and turned back to where Neve was tending the injured and healing Warders. 

Healing may not have been Cal's strongest talent, but she was strong enough that the Captain General had decided, again, that she would be help enough for Neve on this mission without the need to include an actual Yellow. Calia couldn't fault the decision; the Blue had talent enough to spare in that department, to the point it was truly a wonder she'd chosen anything but the healing Ajah - at least to those who'd never seen her argue for a particularly righteous justice or cause.

The Saldaean's sharp eyes never left her charge, but as Cal walked past and lay a light hand on her shoulder in gentle and familiar inquiry, Neve inclined her head ever so slightly to the left and behind. Cal gave the shoulder a soft squeeze of understanding and turned to study the selected patient.

Elessar. She grinned, amused to find she was not at all surprised. With her little knowledge of the man, she judged Neve's silent reasoning to be as true as ever. No doubt the Blue could have talked the man around to healing eventually, but in some situations, as they both well knew, direct assault could be the quickest and least-exhausting approach, and Cal was more the woman for that type of job.

He sat upright towards the edge of the group of other gaidin. His shoulder was bloodied considerably, the shirt stuck fast to the skin, and there was perhaps the faintest tinge of pallor to his usual complexion. He held the shoulder stiffly, rather than awkwardly. A level of weariness was detectable, but forcibly subdued. And there was a specific set to his frame that spoke of stubborn endurance for whatever level of pain and exhaustion was lodging its weight throughout his physical being.

Warders. Cal thought ruefully, and marched toward the man without a second's hesitation. No doubt Elessar had suffered worse wounds in his past, but there was absolutely zero sense in letting this one go untended. 

He knew it too, she guessed, when he acquiesced immediately and respectfully to her pointed look at his shoulder, and no-nonsense approach. She accepted his trust and good sense with a respectful nod, embracing the Source and preparing to get to work. Warmth flooded through her, and she wove small threads of Fire into the moisture and Water she called from the air around them. When she had a sizeable ball of warm water available, she wove it gently into the blood-stuck-cloth about Elessar's shoulder and set about matter-of-factly removing his shirt from the wounded area to inspect the damage. The cleansing and shirt removal sent fresh blood spilling from the edges of the laceration. Tiny rivers of red flowed freely down the man's arm, distracting her attention away from the solidity and smoothness of the finely-honed muscles underneath. Cal caught her distraction and smiled. Focusing her intent anew, she sent Spirit threads delving into the wound, coursing along the fibre and tissues, sweeping throughout the entirety of the body that made the Warder before her, identifying the areas of damage and injury, fatigue and pain. There was little enough to worry her besides the immediate shoulder wound and relatively minor fatigue, and she found she was unusually glad the required healing would not be so large as to be overly taxing on the man. Before she knew it, she was weaving Spirit, Water and Air in blankets across the wound, Elessar was gasping, and the flesh of his shoulder was knitting back together in tidy layers, one by one until the blood ceased escaping, and the skin above was once again smooth. 

Cal smiled and tucked herself into a tidy seated position in front and to the side of the man she'd healed. 

"Here," she offered him the bread she'd brought for recovery, and they each took a bite and began to chew in silence. 

She was studying the easy movement of his previously injured arm, hand flowing flawlessly to mouth, when he spoke.

"Thank you, Calia Sedai," Elessar said in his formal way. With a grin and polite nod, Cal shifted her blue gaze to meet his darkly glinting one.

"That brigand leader was lucky striking me like that. It was a fluke move actually but just shows what can happen  in any battle..."

His grin was lopsided as he continued, "Then again, perhaps I am getting to old for this Warder business."

Cal froze from the heart up, a sudden awful stillness flooded by the echo of her brother's voice in her mind. Joesh had spoken the very same words, highlighting the inevitable reality ahead for himself, and for her, many times, starting so many years ago. He had been wrong - he had not been 'too old' for many, many years to come, but the acknowledgement of growing differences between them had always, always stung.

" - Perhaps my place is back at the White Tower in a comfortable rocking chair reading my many poetry books. Leandreen called me a Warrior Poet, after all." Elessar chuckled under his breath.

Her heart kept beating. Cal forced herself to swallow. She studied the man before her intently and then pressed a smile between her lips. 

"I've heard that jest more times than I care to count, gaidin... and it weighs hard. But experience tells me, in my old age," she paused to give him a pointedly cheeky look, "that battles often depend on those who can both recognise and survive such fluke moves."

Under her own breath she muttered, "And Light knows we have plenty of battles yet to win."

"Besides,"  She lifted her voice and the held-back grin finally split the bounds of her pressed lips, "I've seen you in action. If you belong in a rocking chair with your poetry books more than on a dark stallion with your sword in hand, then I belong at the fireside with nothing more to life than idle needlepoint and a hot cup of tea!" she chuckled for real then, with a shrug of her shoulders and tilt of her head that invited him to laugh along.

●

... Two nights later...

Garg shook his head and rolled his shoulders back and forth impatiently. He snorted and stamped in frustration along with the brothers beside him, saliva dripping from his lips, tusks thrust forward as the scent ahead filled his nose, his mind. He was hungry, now! He wanted to rush and feast on the fresh meat, now! The long mace in his left claw and the hewn sword in his right bounced with the movements. He tightened and lessened his grip on each, over and over. And still, the will of the eyeless brother held him fixed in place. Not yet, brothers - hold! Soon it will be time, so soon!  the voice promised. This time, Garg knew it to be true.

●

"Perhaps I'm growing paranoid in my old age," Calia quipped towards Elessar as they hiked an extra-wide perimeter around the site for the night's intended camp. Her green skirts, split as always for riding and practicality, swished smoothly as they walked. 

She waited a moment for his response, then raised an eyebrow and turned to embrace the Source. Before her, the twined perimeter rings the Sisters had woven earlier shone in their thin, bright strands of Spirit, Air and Fire. She channeled additional Spirit, stretching the rings into taught webs that stood at least as tall as a man from the ground up. It was not that the rings were ineffective, of course - anyone who had seen and heard the response to those when crossed by the bandits could attest to that. It was simply that the webs were better and provided a larger contact surface and a bigger warning if they were crossed. 

"That's it," she shrugged, dropping her arms to her sides as they turned from the final point in their rounds, reaching the river and stopping to admire the sparkling view. "Thank you for your company and your help!" she grinned at the gaidin as he nodded and took his leave, knowing she would see him at the evening meal, as was becoming custom. She wondered what poem or story he might conjure that night, what tales he might tell or request, what she would or would not be ready to share...

●

Tiny sparks of yellow, orange and red burst away from the tips of the flames here and there, dancing into the dark sky to the irregular rhythm of hissing sap and cracking wood, and the occasional snore from a sleeping Warder or two.

Cal lay awake beside the fire, watching the sparks and listening to the horses shuffle restlessly near the edge of the clearing. It had been a pleasant enough night, but she had been serious when she had discussed her concerns with the Captain General earlier, and with Elessar again at the fire during the evening meal. Despite the river flowing swiftly in a curve beside and behind them, and the clearing that gave them a wide view of the road and the field beyond, something felt off, and she didn't trust the night enough to sleep. Not even knowing hers and her Sister's wards were all securely set in place. 

With a sigh, she turned her cooling back to the fire and closed her eyes. Surely, surely soon she could sleep.

●

Now! 

Unseen bonds broke with the sharp eagerness of the voice in his head, and something snapped inside him. Garg lurched forward into a sudden, savage run, his equally desperate brothers behind him, all pretence to quiet forgotten. Blood. Blood and meat was ahead! And theirs to take! They charged!

●

BANG!

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

The warning wards snapped in dozens of places at once. Light rocketed into the sky along a point on the distant boundary.

"TO ARMS!" Calia yelled, whirling to her feet and embracing the source in the same second. Without pause, she cast a bright ball of Spirit and Air to the weave she'd set above the centre of the clearing earlier in the night. Bright white light illuminated a circle around the camp in an instant. Beyond it, darkness closed in.

The horses, done with shuffling, snorted, stamped and whinnied urgently instead. One, a prior bandit's horse, she assumed, screamed. 

"...Trollocs!" Cal bellowed, as the sound of thudding hoofs and snorting, snarling beast-noise wound towards them through the darkness, simultaneously sparking and cutting through a moment of useless disbelief. What are they doing this far from the Blight?

She drew deep on the Power, desperate to weave a mirror net and air shield around the horses before the foul beasts were able to spot and tear them limb from limb. Less than a minute they would have before that happened, she knew. And it would take a whole lot longer to travel to Saldaea without the horses, assuming they were able to continue after tonight.

Emine and Liss were by her side, breathless, in mere instants, the glow of Saidar bright and steady, growing as they drew deep, sleep not even a memory on either of their faces. Warders fanned out before them, weapons ready. Cal grabbed Liss' hand. 

"Horses!" she hissed, and the woman nodded, linking with Emine to once again build a solid chimney of Air. How they would tie it off to hide sound and the scent of terrified horses, the Light only knew, but Cal was too busy spinning Spirit, Air and Water into a reflective dome to watch what they did. She tied her own weaves off to several ground points around the small herd, and hoped the shiny net would be a strong enough a deterrent from the inside to keep them all in place. 

In the instant she severed her tie to that weave, the first of the enormous shadowspawn breached the circle of light surrounding the camp, emerging blade and tusk first from the depths of shadow beyond. Cal grit her teeth and flung disc after disc of sharpened air towards the lowered, charging head. Half a tusk fell to the ground, blood dripped from an outstretched limb. Fireballs from her Sisters lit the sky and illuminated the hoard pushing into the camp from above. The number of beasts tangled in the shifting shadows was hard to count, but there was enough for Cal to know they had a serious challenge on their hands. She drew deeper on the Power.

"To me, to Link!" Liss yelled, and Cal was startled to realise that she'd strode so far forward towards the onrush of Shadow. She wasn't alone though, she realised as a blade whistled deftly near her ear. At least one Warder was by her side and ready to fight. She grinned, and let the weaves fly fast as she stepped back towards the waiting Greens...

*squees at shiny knight and happily downs the brew*

 @Cairosnot hiding exactly, just juggling all the lifey things and sneaking around DM here and there in between...

How are you???

WB AJ!

The line of Calia's lips twitched, a "tch" of disapproval fighting to escape from behind her teeth as she watched the majority of the brigands continue on the attack - despite the clear warnings she and her Sisters had laid out.

Of all the ale-spills to try and slurp..! 

Idiots!

Cal cut and tied the weaves to the boggy mire she had created, satisfied to see it was proving deep and thick enough to hold man and horse alike - and providing a buffer between the onslaught and those she would protect.

The tug and flow of Saidar was everywhere around her. Fireballs were now flying through the air courtesy of Lissinda, Emine and one of the younger Greens. And thanks to the other two, dirt exploded again and again in violent blasts in front of the oncoming horses and men. Men who, for the most part, did not stop.

That the would-be-bandits were continuing to advance towards and against Warders, and in the clear presence of Aes Sedai, was testament to levels of sheer stubbornness, dangerous desperation or specific targeting. Any or all of the above meant a threat to her comrades' lives and the party's greater purpose in being there. 

Cal pressed her lips back into a tight line. This was not the type of battle they were here for. Still, it was the battle with which they were presently faced. She breathed deep and opened every fibre of her being wider to the familiar wash of the One Power. Light, colour, intensity and connection bloomed bright in the world around her, through her - as always with the sensation she felt as much as saw. She sensed the pools and waves of every Element waiting to be drawn in to threads, called into weaves. Awareness of the immediate environment flooded in, around and through her.

She thrust a sudden shield of Air towards an oncoming bandit, two razor thin, lightning-fast streaks of Fire racing ahead before it. The man was screaming incomprehensibly, urging his mount recklessly at full gallop towards the Aes Sedai. His wild black hair whipped behind him as he charged, one hand on the reins, the other holding aloft a sword that did not gleam.

One of the Fire threads severed a flailing stirrup strap mid-way to a kick at the horse's belly, the other sliced through the upheld reins on an upswing of the man's arm. On the downswing, Cal slammed the shield in front of his chest and shoulders, allowing the outstretched arm to sink through to the elbow and slowing the forward motion of his head with a slightly softer patch of weave at the last instant. The man's scream arrested abruptly on impact. His body lifted from the saddle, one leg still caught momentarily in a stirrup, and then crashed to the ground. Cal anchored the shield to the spot, pinning the man's torso and gagging his gaping mouth with Air for good measure before the screaming could resume. She tied off the weaves as the horse careered away to the side, the one attached stirrup and the remains of the reins flicking wildly as it thundered past.

Cal switched her focus the instant the weaves were tied. She scanned the entire scene before her once more, eyes snapping to the various points of combat where Warders danced against the bandits in fierce flashes of fan-cloak and blurring blades. Even without the benefit of a bond, she could single out each and every one of the Gaidin. With a smile she noted the entire Tower party remained relatively well-positioned,  each member competently holding their own.

In the midst of the chaos near the boggy mire, Elessar's fight with the large man from the dappled horse drew her attention - not for the first time. It appeared the warder had continued to take advantage of the change in terrain and had managed to best the aggressor from his horse. As she watched, Power flowing through her at the ready, the Gaidin danced around his foe, spinning and twisting with a powerful combination of nimble footwork and well-practiced forms. His blade was both quick to parry and quick to attack. Cal smiled in appreciation, watching in satisfaction as steel bit into the brute's shoulder and thigh and the Warder switched grip and ducked low, flowing flawlessly away from the retaliatory attack. She winced at the blow to Elessar's shoulder, gritting her teeth at the blossoming blood. When she next looked back, both men were standing on the edge of the marshy ground, energy flagging. In the same instant that she returned her gaze, Elessar suddenly sidestepped, knocked the brute's blade down and sliced up into his neck, ending the fight. And that was that.

In the next instant, Lissinda sent a fireball to Cal's left. Cal whirled in time to see it take down a brigand who had been charging for, and had almost reached, one of the younger Greens from behind. Cal raised an eye at Lissinda in question, lifting her own hands and releasing a cyclonic gust of Air that repelled the two other would-be attackers who had been charging from the same direction. 

She was annoyed now. True darkfriends these men were likely not, but they were clearly not bursting with efforts towards the side of the Light, either. Amaya almost taken by surprise, blood soaking across Elessar's shoulder - at the hands of these men. She was sure there would be other injuries among their party too. Enough was enough.

Mists? she signed at Liss in question, blue eyes blazing.

The woman nodded an affirmative, calling and signalling for the Saldeans to join them - it was time.

Cal slipped from her bay and muffled the mare's ears, eyes and nose with a mix of Air and Spirit. No need for her to be affected by what was about to happen, and Cal really had no desire to go chasing after her horse when this was done.

The four of them stood a moment, channelling darkness through a thick and roiling mist. They allowed the mist to spread out and around their party.  Then the four of them stepped forward, in unison, Air and Water whipping in a violent frenzy before them as they advanced.

As they walked, they each wove Mirror of Mists, stretching the weaves so they grew impossibly taller with every step. The Warders that were linked to the other women involved had seen this before, as had Sinahr Gaidin, she was sure. She trusted they would be well forewarned, and the others would both notice and know how to get out of the way in plenty of time.

Step by step the four advanced, taller and taller. Cal kept her hands up in front of her. She drove shuddering rams of Spirit into the ground with every step, making it seem as if the advancing Sedai could shake the very foundations of the Earth. Wind and rain whipped around them, increasingly vicious circles that shot outwards in sharp intervals, assailing attackers who remained on the road around them, drawing their attention away from whatever fight they had previously had at hand. None of that mattered now, for sure.

Suddenly, dark clouds billowed from the ground in front of the four, the glow of Saidar crackling around them, and lightening streaked from the sky to illuminate clouds and Aes Sedai one by one. Cal turned her head to the two young Greens with a nod of appreciation and recognition for their contribution. She was liking those two more and more. Effective, she thought, keeping careful pace with the others and feeding as much fury as she could muster into her outward facade.

The four of them weaving Mirror of Mists were impossible not to notice now. Even those who had not been redirected with wind and rain were slowing in their movements at this point, staring agape at the way the women were looming larger and larger with every step in the eerie light until they were undeniably the size of giants. As they grew, each of the ageless Aes Sedai faces twisted with menace and disapproval.

"ENOUGH!" the Sisters yelled, weaving their voices into a single, monstrous roar. Every enemy blade left on the road was frozen in place, or dropped to the ground. Hands lifted to cover ears. A number of men turned and fled. Warders fanned out around their Sisters, cloaks whipping in the wind, swords ready. Cal released the weaves on the shield-pinned man, and rolled him down the road in a tumble of Air.

"LEAVE! NOW! WALK IN THE LIGHT, OR DISSAPEAR WITH THE SHADOWS. 

THE CHOICE. IS. YOURS!"

The words boomed, thunder clattered relentlessly overhead, and innumerable bolts of lightening spread through the sky and shot to the ground in an electric arc around the attacking line.

"NOW!" The monstrous voice boomed over the thunder.

Every single non-Tower horse and man fled back the way they had come - wind, rain, thunder, lightening and a number of Warders chasing them down the path.

As she released her weaves and turned to tend to her horse and anyone that needed healing, Cal noted the number of bodies lifeless on the now war-torn ground, and shook her head. She could only hope that the experience would afford the Tower party an certain amount of rest and peace in the night and days to come, and keep the others who'd been involved a little more on the straight and narrow.

Smothering a cry of alarm, Saldaean Soldier Asan Kamil Kamadi darted across the last five paces of the Commander's living room and sank suddenly to his knees at the threshold to the balcony. He dropped his hand from the hilt of the unsheathed knife at his hip and unconsciously balled it into a fist so tight the skin over his dark knuckles blanched.

Eyes wide in horror, he stared, frozen and unable to do anything else. Soft grey dawn filtered through the balcony's stone balusters - gently seeping lines of light stretching feebly towards the unmoving, crumpled figure on the landing, fighting the greying shadows every inch of the way.

The kneeling soldier squeezed his eyes shut against the sight before him, as if not seeing now could erase the horror of ever having witnessed the uniform in front of him so dishevelled and the body within it so pale and uncharacteristically, deathly still. He tried to centre himself, for once finding it near impossible, despite the years of training and tips he had curated under the guidance of this very man who was now a shell.

He drew deep, unsteady breath. Childhood heroes were never meant to die like this - not without steel in their hands, not with streams of light struggling to cut through simple shadows. When Asan opened his eyes, it was to a greyness darker than that which had existed before. There was absolutely no doubting that the morning light had utterly failed to defy the blanket of cloud on the horizon. And there was also no doubt that Ibram Taghere, Commander of the Banikkan Legion, Hero of Saldaea, was very, very much dead.

***

"Brigands!"

Calia wheeled her horse around towards Elessar's cry in time to see Stormbreaker charging back to the group as if he'd just outrun a hoard of trollocs.

" - at least thirty in number! Make ready!"

In practiced manoeuvres, the Warders drew swords and fanned out into protective positions around the group, sunlight shifting over the fabric of their cloaks in ways that made them difficult for the eyes to see. The area they were in today was much the same as yesterday, Cal noted for the millionth time that day - desolate and dotted with boulders and only the occasional small stand of trees. The fancloaks reflected these features almost perfectly - the moving Warders were little more than hazy shapes preceded by sharp and gleaming blades of steel now.

Saidar bloomed around Calia and every other Sister present, the sudden shimmer highlighting their forms for one another against the azure blue sky. She breathed slow and deep, inspired by the intensified brilliance of the day, the smell of sunshine on the road and larger rocks, the small amounts of moisture still in the air and ground below their feet.

With a nod at Elessar for his warning, Cal cast a grinning smile at him and drew deep enough from the Source that every single one of her Sisters turned their head her way in curiosity. Recalling the conversation she'd had against the boulders with Elessar the day before, Cal grinned wryly. Yes, she had travelled these parts many, many times, and yes, she believed the problem of brigands was getting worse, but surely still nothing they wouldn't be able to handle...

She chuckled softly to herself as the youngest Greens continued to stare in confusion at the circlet she was weaving and stretching ever-outward with thin tangles of Spirit and Air and Fire. She supposed it did look unconventional, drawing so much of the Power to craft such tiny threads, especially in a moment where there was no immediate need or allowance in the Oaths for weapons. But she wasn't crazy, yet. Raising an eyebrow at them along with her arms, Cal lifted the weave overhead and continued spinning the circle around and out, as though she was stretching dough at superspeed. In the next instant, four such bands were stretching outward from the centre of the group at a shocking speed - Lissinda, Emine and Neve had apparently recognised her boundary circlet weave and agreed this was another perfect excuse to put it to good use.

Cal's eyes sparkled as she and the others settled the 'defensive' boundary circles into position and tied them off. The threat of thirty brigands against their party of fourteen might not yet equate with a situation that required or allowed weapons a 'last extreme defence' of their lives, but a risk definitely existed and could not be entirely ignored. If these defensive perimeters exploded fireworks along with the Saidar wherever they were touched, it was to signal the distance and location of potential attacks from any direction -   a perfect warning signal for those in their party not linked to the One Power, really. 

The boundary crossing would be but a fraction of the fight, if it came to it, she knew. She scanned the area around them, weighing up the areas of access and egress, the spots away from the roadside where water still pooled, the areas of dry underbrush and twigs that might catch easily alight. 

Suddenly, there was a heated buzz in her boundary ward, followed immediately by the  sounds of chaos down the road. Fire, Air and Spirit tangles exploded upwards with several enormous BANG-BANG-BANG-BANGs, men yelled - some in surprise and some in pain;  horses screamed and shied dramatically, thundering into the area out of control. 

Calia watched Elessar lift his sword to the ready, sparks of light bouncing out from the polished blade, gleaming in the sun, and Stormbreaker, beneath her new friend, looking like every bunched up muscle of his black was beyond ready to spring forward on command. Her own Bay was twitching, ears pricked resolutely forward, towards the direction Elessar had come from. Cal noted the body-language, and wondered if that truly meant no threats currently existed behind.

Whether they had figured it for an Aes Sedai-related warning system, or something else, the Brigands kept coming towards their group with their wild charge through the perimeters that had been set. Elessar's warning had been correct in count too, it seemed - a quick sweep of the oncoming figures showed their party was well and truly outnumbered by 3-4. Cal gritted her teeth together and set her lips into a thin line, wondering why humans would turn on one another the way these ones intended to do to them.

And suddenly, a surprisingly tall man on a dappled grey stallion made an aggressive beeline for Elessar, sword raised, mouth opened in a yell. Behind him charged three others at a similar pace.

Blue eyes fixed on the scene, Calia drew the Source into herself and felt the familiar sharpening of senses and bliss of  being connected with the Saidar, and well and truly alive. She was not alone in her readiness and related bliss - the tug of the One Power flowed through and around every able member of their group. This stampede of brigands was definitely an act of aggression and attack. Like the thugs in Tar Valon, these Brigands were not exactly Shadowspawn, but they were a threat to the ways of Light and Good, and the party from Tar Valon would stand united against them.

To that effect, Cal quickly wove a wide Blue thread of Water with one hand and an incredibly viscous cloud of Air, Water and Spirit in the other. She sent both of these to the ground immediately in  between Elessar and the oncoming bandits, drawing as much Water as she could into the space, weaving it into the soil in the little time they had, and thickening the air above the boggy marsh that slowly spread through the affected ground. Again more defense than attack mechanism, Calia knew, but she also knew the weavings would serve a useful purpose, and still help to significantly slow the oncoming horses and would-be-bandits down...

***

The pace the split-fist was retaining was much improved, though progress seemed slow at this part in their trek, and Garg could not figure out why. He trotted on with heavy steps and foul, heavy breaths alongside his brothers, each and every one of them all snuffing and puffling this way and that, chasing signs of the living, blood, flesh.

The chant of the Myddraal continued to drive them forward, ever present in their minds. Faster, Faster, Faster brothers! It yelled. A feast awaits!

Calia smiled, keeping the steely grimness in her heart from the features of her face.

Until Darkness' Fall, indeed -

She clapped along with the other diners as the gleeman took his bow. 

 - regardless of the number of lives overshadowed and extinguished in the efforts.

Plural, she highlighted, according to habit. The 'Last Battle', can only be so after all of the efforts that come before it; the ultimate result will be determined by the outcome of each and every thread woven to that point. 

She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin subconsciously. Even after all these years, the determination and resolve manifested by that mantra was particularly difficult to diffuse or disguise. 

And Light knows the signs are pointing to another, darker uprising of the Shadow - hence us all being here after all!

The last thought was enough to remind her she wasn't simply at the Red Fox for the entertainment and pleasures that followed a hearty meal. With a polite nod for the Captain General and another for the Sisters and Gaidin at the table, Cal stood smoothly and prepared to depart, sensibly, for bed. In doing so, she took a moment to survey the members of their present party, spread in small groups around the room. Some, like Lissinda and her longest-serving Warder Malik, along with the Green and Blue Saldaeans Emine and Neve, she knew well, having worked and travelled with each of them many times over. Some, like the Captain-General's youngest Warder Taysun, and Sinahr, Kerin, Mikael and Elessar Gaidin she knew at least by name and sight from various interactions. The remaining Warders and two younger Greens, taught and raised in years she had been away from the Tower, were essentially unknown to her - but had been well spoken for, and had appeared to carry themselves well enough thus far. Each one, Cal noted as she scanned the room, was currently immersed in the Lighter side of life despite the tedium of travel through poor weather that had dominated the day. 

A spread of genuine warmth and gratitude infused the flame of resolution at the core of her being.

She knew - she knew - the Shadow was rising again, even as they all sat here listening to heroic songs of the past. And she knew the Wheel would weave as the Wheel willed this time around - as it ever had.

Yet, watching the Tower company, the gleeman and the crowd, she also knew, without a single doubt, that her Sisters, the Gaidin and countless others including herself would continue to fight for the Light and yet another Shadow's fall - shaping threads through hearts and minds and, when necessary, battle after battle after battle until the very last.

***

Garg growled. He grunted. He shuffled, stamping his hoofs in growing agitation. The entire fraction of the fist of shadow-brothers that had been sent further South pressed in around him. Terror at the suddenly rising, fast flowing water in their path was unanimous amongst the group, as was the burning torment of the link that bound them all to the eyeless brother who commanded them ever forward. He growled again, his tail whipping side to side in irritation. This was beyond impossible and beyond understanding, and it made his vision mist with red and black. He screamed - the roar of his fury framed by tusks that were still bloody from the most recent feast of human flesh, the frustration and fear in his voice warring with the mad desire to follow orders, follow orders, follow orders and hunt, hunt, hunt, feed and torture and kill, kill, kill some more. He was hungry and he wanted more, now! The brothers with him echoed the cry, stamping and shaking fists and weapons at the ground water and at the sky, all of them waiting, waiting, waiting in agony for it all to just go away. 

The Myddraal lifted his head from the throat of his intended victim long enough to hiss through sharpened teeth. As long as none of them died, the wait would fuel his inferior siblings in a forward surge when the water reduced, this he knew. Ceaselessly he fed that thought at them, daggers of commands and images of future flesh and rewards burning across the link even as he turned his attention back to the torture at hand. Patience, brothers! It will not be too much longer now! 

He smiled, and the girl clutched in front of him finally screamed.

***

Soft, grey dawn was slowly pressing its way into the small room via the widely-flung Eastern window. Cal pinned the last of her newly-oiled-and-weatherproofed braids into her bun, took a final critical look at her reflection and then turned her attentions from the looking glass to the barely-visible clouds and sky beyond. 

As expected, she surmised. 

The rain may have ceased for now, but even in the early, barely-there light, the blanket of cloud above was undeniably absolute - a heavy grey haze that promised a day full of drizzle with the potential for further downpour. She crossed to the window for a closer look at the immediate surrounds and was pleased to note that she was not the only member of the party awake at this hour. Down below, amongst a scattering of puddles, shrouded in morning mist, were movements that belied a Warder working expertly through a series of sword forms. For several moments the mist, muffled steps and lack of light made the anonymous Gaidin a ghost of every Warder she had ever truly loved to watch. As routine and dawn progressed however, mists and ghosts receded to reveal Elessar, clearly dedicated to duty and very much alive, with elements of movement that were uniquely his own. After a few more moments of critical observation, Cal smiled in appreciation and withdrew to re-shutter the window. 

From there she swiftly donned her cloak and boots, gathered her pack and departed the room to seek  breakfast en route to the stables. Her hopes were high that the others would be of a like mind in thinking an early start would be ideal in translating to an early arrival at their next destination, and helping them avoid at least an hour or two of rain. She was not disappointed, yet despite the promising start, that entire day and the next ended up passing slowly in bleary blurs of muddy, puddle-pocked roads and washed-out landscapes continuously obscured by rain or mist, or otherwise almost entirely leached of colour in the ever-present greyness conjured by the blanket of clouds. On both accounts the party was unsurprisingly early to bed and early to rise.

The following morning Cal awoke even earlier than usual, dawn breaking sharply into her room from across a crisp blue sky. When she arrived in the Common room, the Captain-General and her Warders were already seated at a large table with half-empty plates and Emine, Neve, Sinahr and Mikael were each moving to join them. The others all straggled in one by one ahead of schedule. Everyone appeared  well-rested and clearly enthused by the change in weather. The mood remained jovial throughout the breaking of their fast, saddling of horses, the move to mounting up and the entirety of the day. She managed a brief chat with Elessar, lost count of the times Mikael made her laugh with his antics, and was grateful for the way the weather allowed her conversation and catch up with Neve and Emine - it turned out much had changed and much had stayed the same since she had seen each of them last. The inn they found that evening was more subdued than the Red Fox had been, but nevertheless offered their company and the local crowd an entertainment of sorts - albeit a rather worn-looking gleeman whose tales were simply spoken stories of horror and doom that he swore were true. 

The next day dawned as blue and clear as the one before, and with a similarly jovial mood to the last, despite the gloom and doom spouted by the gleeman the night before. Mounted and waiting for the others, Calia found herself smiling at the positive start, doubly so because of the dry road which stretched before them with a distinctly noticeable absence of hoof-sucking mud. 

By all rights, that dry road should have made relaxing through the ride easier than each of the last few days. But much to the amusement of the others, especially Neve and Emine, Calia's bay mare was uncharacteristically skittish to the point that she could focus on little else. Cal found herself necessarily on guard in response, both to the horse and the surrounds, ceaselessly scanning the road in all directions. For the most part, it remained empty of both game and other travellers, hazards and anything else she could assume would cause the horse to react. That in itself was both a blessing and a potential concern, but Cal resolved that there was no reason to panic herself just yet. When they stopped and hobbled the horses for lunch, she took her time examining the beast for signs of physical irritation or injury. Other than flaring nostrils and frequent shivers of her hide, the bay was, at least as far as outward appearance could tell, in perfect health. 

Removing her lunch of travel-cake and an apple from the saddlebags at hand, Calia eventually returned to the group and sat herself down on the grass in the free space beside Elessar. Not one to beat about the bush after due diligence, she cleared her throat and spoke her mind aloud for everyone to hear.

"Something is wrong," she announced. "And it's not the horse."

"The road and surrounds are too quiet for a day such as this. At the very least, I think we all need to be more focused and on guard."