Badriyah gasped as she felt invisible bonds circle her hands and was lifted off her feet quite abruptly and pulled back. What under the Light…? How bizarre! And when she realized that it was an Accepted who stood in the doorway she was suddenly sure that the other woman had used saidar somehow, to put an end to their battle. It can only be that it is the True Source that keeps us from moving; I don’t think there is anything else that has such powers.

The door swung shut and the raven-haired Accepted seated herself on one of the beds, looking what Badriyah could only read as resigned through her smooth, authoritative expression. The crafty Murandian’s mind was racing as she began to thread together a good lie and tried to figure out how to get the other girl to play along even before the intruder asked what the reason for the fight was. But before Badriyah could utter a syllable her roommate spoke, “I be trying to escape. Yeah. You be hearing right. Escape. You no be keeping me here. I be trying for the window, but she no be giving up her sheets.” and pointed an accusing thumb at Badriyah, who was quite pleased with the other girl’s answer. Her roommate had made it sound as though she were the one who had started the violence, which suited the Lugarder so well she might have kissed the other had her movement not been limited by the Source.

When the Accepted turned her gaze to the young psychopath, she figured she should offer an answer. So, suppressing a smile, she said, “Forgive me, uh, Accepted, but this girl wished to leave! I didn’t want to give her my sheets because I didn’t want to be accused of assisting her. I – I wasn’t planning to hurt her with the glass…” Badriyah tactfully managed to bring tears to her eyes, and choked up as she continued, “I was just going to threaten her so that she’d stop fighting me and then I could fetch an Aes Sedai or call out the door for help. Maybe I,” she sighed, and then rather dramatically, “Maybe I did wrong, I’m sorry! I’ve just been so confused and I didn’t know what to do!”

The sixteen-year-old wept childishly, sobbing that she was sorry, that she was just having such a difficult time settling in, and that she wanted her mother.She could only hope that at least the Accepted would fall for it...

Badriyah

Shahed crouched on the ground outside the tent the Wise Ones used for questioning, staring down at the sand almost as though she were dosing, though she was as alert as ever. The young Maiden knew that guarding the tent that was used for questioning was an extremely important task and that she had to concentrate on her surroundings perhaps more than were she guarding anything else, if that were even possible. All kinds of people were taken to the questioning tent, including some extremely dangerous wetlanders who could cause much trouble if they escaped or were allowed to roam free; and for these reasons Shahed remained as vigilant as she could be.

Shahed disliked waiting around outside the city of Cairhien. Being a Maiden she was used to travel and ever since they had entered the wetlands it had been difficult not to long to journey further and see more of the world. It was irritating that some of them, including herself, weren’t allowed to go help the Car’a’carn and protect him on his travels, especially since the Maidens carried his honor. Shahed wanted to be fighting his enemies and learning more about different wetlanders and their battle skills. But she knew there was nothing one young Maiden could do but wait for orders from above.

The wind stirred the dust before her causing majestic eddies that spun, hesitated, and then dissipated as though they feared appearing at this place for what they may witness. Perhaps that poor treekiller woman in the city is correct, perhaps the wind does carry ghosts. The Aiel girl smiled as she thought fancifully and then rolled her eyes at her childishness, though her smile never faded. She ran a tanned, long–fingered hand through her red-gold hair to push back her bangs, but alas they fell forward again as they always did. Shahed supposed she was childish in that she had a wild imagination, but couldn’t really bring herself to care; and soon fell back into the world of invisible spirit spies swirling through the air.

Shahed’s daydreams ceased the moment she caught sight of a clan chief approaching, though she didn’t make a fuss about it and glanced up passively, then shot a discreet gaze at the other nearby tents and pathways before turning to the girl on guard with her offering a comment in hand-talk about the length of time they would be watching, and then about the location of the nearest sweat tent. The other agreed to take her there in the evening, which pleased Shahed, since she preferred to have someone she knew to talk to while she cleansed off. The two continued to bond silently, it was when the first prisoner to be questioned arrived that they ceased.

It was not an out-of-ordinary sight really, a stony-faced Aiel warrior with a wetlander swung over his shoulder, naked from the waist down with welt-marks across her backside, nearing the tent. The warrior seemed quite outraged to Shahed, though she had to read his whole manner to understand it and the woman could not possibly be feeling much better. The Far Dareis Mai tried to get a glimpse of the woman’s face as she was carried into the tent, since she was obviously some trouble and it might be important to know who she is.

After turning once to flash a remark about foolish wetlander women, the Far Dareis Mai settled back to her vigil.

Shahed

“That do be it, fade lover!” Badriyah was startled out of her trance as the other girl pounced on her, knocking her over; and the next thing she knew the two of them were rolling around on the floor, hitting, pinching, and pulling hair. “The Light burn you!”, cried the Lugarder as the small of her back slammed against one of the legs of her roommate’s bed. She tried to ignore the pain, knowing that it would distract her from the fight at hand, which may lead to her losing her bedsheets. Badriyah gripped her roommate’s fingers, twisting them backwards viciously as she tried to pound her stomach with blows from her little fist. But Badriyah was knocked away almost immediately and they tumbled across the room again.

At some point the young masochist realized she might be able to do a better job of cornering the other if she were standing up and so pushed the other girl down as she struggled to stand and might’ve been surprised by the other allowing this and then rising herself had she not been busy trying to think of a way to get her under control. Then the frustrating roommate pelted herself at Badriyah again, who suffered as a cushion for the other girl from the sharp edges of the wooden dresser that dug into her skin as the seemingly massive obstruction collapsed to the floor. Her roommate rose and suddenly the two of them were propelling whatever they could find at each other.

She clenched her teeth as the other girl tossed an uneven piece of wood off the dresser at her that hit her arm hard, ripping her sleeve and leaving splinters in her paper-white skin. Several other projectiles were sent through the air between them, including three, not-so-empty inkpots, before Badriyah was struck with what she thought of as a brilliant idea. She threw her fist into the sole window in their room carelessly, shattering it intentionally for a sharper, more deadly weapon: a shard of glass. If this didn’t make the other girl behave she would have to try to use the conveniently ripped and tied sheets to tie her hands and feet together. And if that proved to be too difficult, as she assumed it would, she might end up using the sheets to strangle her. Badriyah thought that quite a waste of a human body, since it brought death faster, which meant there would be less time for blood-drawing torture; but if the other girl pushed her that far, she felt she would have no choice but to do it. And though blood might not be drawn in such amounts as would be truly satisfying, the psychopath knew it would be enjoyable.

She didn’t consider that her roommate, who seemed to have experience with fighting, might harm her seriously before she could carry out any of her newly-thought-of plans. For all Badriyah knew, the other girl might have it in her to kill another as well; but none of this even crossed her mind then. With a wordless battle cry, a shriek that rang and echoed in her own ears, Badriyah charged almost clumsily at her roommate, reasonably-sized pieces of glass in each hand. She was dimly aware of a new presence in the room as she tripped and stumbled across the debris-littered floor, but was determined not to allow any who had come to watch the fight make her hesitate.

Badriyah

Badriyah observed all that was around her and made sure to take note of it as she was escorted to her room. She almost wished they had found her unable to channel and had hired her as a servant instead. Were she to be a servant, rather than an Aes Sedai, she would likely not have her superiors watching her as closely as these women who ruled the world would watch her. How am I to survive? There is only so much blood to drain from this body; but lives in this place seem to be in great abundance. Could they really need all these cooks and maids, all these novices and Accepted? And few initiates would ever gain the shawl. Well the more useless ones I may be able to corner and enjoy. Of course it would have to be without my superiors knowing…ahh, there’s a great challenge. thought the shrewd psychopath, her lips twisting in an expression of distaste. The White Tower was, however, the only place she could go in the world where the crimes she had committed previously would be of no importance to others; the only place, perhaps, where she would be given a second chance if she could manage to gain control of her cravings and diminish them.

The two women started into a massive gallery where white - clad girls of all shapes and sizes darted about the hallways like ants, most not daring to meet the gaze of the grumpy Accepted who escorted Badriyah to her quarters. They soon arrived at a miniscule chamber that accommodated a couple of beds, a wash basin, a closet and little else worthy of mention. As they entered, the Accepted said, “Here are your apartments, child, you are to dress in your novice garb immediately. Discard your other clothing, you will no longer have use of it. Don’t try to channel and behave yourself.” before bustling off, leaving Badriyah alone in her new quarters. The young novice washed her dusty face and undid the laces of her blouse before tossing it under the bed, then removed her breeches and stowed them away along with the blouse. The Accepted doubted she would have use of them but perhaps they would come of some use if she were forced to escape this place in the future.

Once she was fully dressed she lay down on one of the little beds to take a nap and closed her eyes. Her frantic journey and the excitement of the day had left her worn with fatigue. Badriyah was asleep in moments.

Sometime later, as she shifted and turned over with the intention of sleeping a little longer, she was startled fully awake at the sound of the door opening and sat up abruptly to face another brown – haired novice. The Murandian scowled darkly. She knew then that the Light would have her facing trials endlessly in this snowy prison.

_________________

Badriyah Bloodlover

Novice

Badriyah’s bio

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Rory slammed the door behind her and cursed enough to melt wax. She had just been dragged off to her room by Saline and Rossa, even though neither had them had introduced themselves to her yet and she had been forced to learn up their names through other means.

It took her a moment to even become aware that the room was occupied by another. This fact merely spurred her defamation of character—or libel, considering—to new levels of won’t-somebody-please-think-of-the-children. The other girl looked just as absurd in the white frock as she suspected she herself would, and there was not a remote chance in Blight that she was going to don hers without a mighty struggle. Bloody and bloody, bloody Creator Damned, Dark One kissing, Light Fool slapping, baby selling ashes!

When she noticed the dark scowl her head almost exploded. Of course it could get worse, of course it would get worse, why shouldn’t it? Why should not the worst, most horrifying day of her life without end last just that little bit longer, get just that little bit worse. Why they were so interested in her mystified the inn keeper’s daughter, why she was not allowed to leave, and why they were getting away with imprisoning her. Who were these women?

She spotted the window. Yes! Her thoughts began to shape around an emerging idea, the little horn rising from the sea of troubles to become an even bigger one. Her bed was utilitarian, with few blankets, covers, or sheets, but if she cut them up and threaded them together, along with the other bed . . . she just may be able to get out of the window. Yes!

She turned to the other girl and said conversationally, “I’m going to need your bed sheets,” before starting to tear at her own with her bare hands and teeth.

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Badriyah blinked, startled out of sleepiness at the angry-faced girl who entered the room scowling. As the intruder noticed her new roommate she shot her a sour look which the Murandian girl didn't really mind. What did it matter that the girl found her distasteful? I suppose it’s better than having the girl after me to be her pillow friend, thought the sixteen-year-old. It suddenly occurred to her how little she thought of romance. She decided after a few moments’ speculation that she had a strong preference for men, though torture seemed a far more entertaining hobby than seducing the naïve boys of Tar Valon.

The other girl informed her that she would be needing the Lugarder’s bed sheets, which Badriyah thought curious. Would anything of significance come of questioning the other? Did she need her own bed sheets? There did seem to be a little draft in the room and she liked being warmer than most did. No, she wouldn’t be giving the girl her sheets.

The roommate began tearing her own sheets and tying them, in a way that made it obvious to Badriyah that she was planning to try to escape. The young brunette watched silently for some time, ignoring the other’s comment. Eventually she said, “You may use your novice dresses, but you will not get my sheets. Why run? Where can you go where you will not be caught by somebody?” She said rather blandly, though she believed it thoroughly, in her own case as well; except that for Badriyah it was more of a matter of wanting to escape the world as though that could help her escape herself and what she’d done. But why did this girl want to run away so badly?

Badriyah cleared her throat and said, “So this is because of me being here? I really don’t care for this place either, but fear not, I’m not going to try to befriend you. And I’d love to have you leave so that I could have the chamber to myself, but I don’t think you can manage it so I’m not going to help you.”

Badriyah

_________________

Badriyah Bloodlover

Novice

Badriyah’s bio

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“ What? Oh sure. I do be taking one look at your ugly mug and I be wanting to be jumping out the window. Come to think of it, you do be the spitting image of spilt pint.

“Perhaps you be coming here by choice. Not me. I be in the bar having a cool drink to soothe the hours of travel, and I end up in this light cursed place. Not even so much as a by your leave ma’am. Well, I will not stand for it. Would you believe that I be chased down the hall by at least three of them? That’s right, three, chasing me down the hall like I am some kind of naughty puppy in need of schooling. The nerve. Not only will my ale be warm, but it’ll be flat, mark my words. I be leaving, and I be needing your sheets to do it, I don’t wish to be mean, but one way or the other I be getting those sheets.”

Ripping bed sheets into strips was much harder work than it first appeared. If they didn’t come out straight they would be practically useless, more than practically useless: absolutely useless. So Rory had to move slowly and diligently and hope she moved fast enough to escape before anyone came to check. Naughty puppies always get checked on, she knew this by personal experience. Well, they’d be lucky if this naughty puppy didn’t chew all the furniture and pee on the floor.

The material was not exactly strong, but then it didn’t have to hold her weight for long, she was in reasonably good shape and figured she could get down to the ground before anything snapped. What kind of person lived in a great big tower anyway? Was a little odd to Rory’s thinking. Better to live on the flat, or at least in something easy to move about in. What about all these stairs? How anyone managed to get back to their room was something she’d have liked an answer to.

She could plait the sheets, yes, that would work, but it’d also take far too long in the making and no doubt she would be thwarted by the mentally deficient maniacs guarding her prison cell. Well, she’d see if they could stop her this time. Once she was home, she’d never leave. Ever. And especially not on any trip to Tar Valon. Wonder of the world. Bollocks.

With her own sheets torn and assembled to form what could pas—by stretch of the imagination—as a rope of some sort, she turned back to the other bed and its uncooperative occupant. “I be needing those sheets now.”

------------------------------------------------------------=

Badriyah gathered by the rant that her roommate had been collected and brought to the Tower by force, which explained her desperation and resolution not to stay. However, she could not bring herself to care about the other’s feelings, much less try to imagine them. This girl was just present as an extreme annoyance to her and she would pay heed to no other aspect of her roommate’s existence.

As she watched the other girl use up her bedsheets in the making of this impossible rope she thought would help her escape, Badriyah could not help but wonder what she would do about the matter. Under no circumstances would she surrender her sheets to this spoiled, stubborn girl who demanded them as though she had a right to that which was not hers. If the Lugarder’s roommate challenged her words with action she would have no choice but to defend what belonged to her. Badriyah’s thoughts in response to the bold words the unwanted novice spoke was silent: One way or another you will not be getting them! One way…or another.

“I be needing those sheets now.” came the roommate’s Illianer - accented voice ominously.

The psychopathic young woman felt her whole body tense as the other turned and approached her bed intending, she supposed, to snatch the covers out from beneath her. Alert, stubborn, and mad with a feeling of possessiveness, Badriyah lunged at the young thief with razor-sharp nails, knocking her onto the floor. “You will not touch my things!” she cried as she pulled her hair and ears and even attempted to give her a black eye, though she did not have great physical strength in her arms. Badriyah’s blood bubbled with adrenalin and anger with such fury that she could not help but lose herself to it even though it took effort to try to strike the restless other.

And then she dug her nails into the girl’s shoulder and felt skin give way to the blood-filled flesh beneath. The crazed novice was suddenly filled with calm and hesitated as she watched the fresh, warm liquid drip from her nails.

OOC: Tell me if you'd like me to change anything! 

Badriyah

_________________

Badriyah Bloodlover

Novice

Badriyah’s bio

-------------------------------------------------------------

Where Badriyah had found a measure of calm in the drawing of Rory’s blood; Rory, in the drawing of her own blood found a measure of disbelief, shaded around the edges by an oncoming black mood. Rory had been perfectly reasonable—not to mention polite—in regard to her “room mate.” Asking for her bed sheets had been a small thing, not some monumental occasion worthy of ... whatever in the light that was! And the way she kept staring at her bleeding shoulder. It was off putting, and making Rory incalculably peevish.

“That do be it, fade lover!” Nothing beat the classics, and while the insult in itself was not lost on the other novice, it was benign. What followed—Rory using her body as a projectile to knock the other woman to the floor—was not so easy to shrug. Rory, of course, had typically not thought the action through and she found herself tripping and toppling along with the other, which was far from the intention.

A thumb in the eye, a scratch or two, some hair pulling, and they were off; rolling around on the floor as though they were conjoined. No serious blows were landed, merely kindling to further the passion. It was possible that neither was skilled, but neither could be accused of not quickly getting into the swing of it. Rory did wish Badriyah would let go of her hair, but then she could hardly expect that when she herself was pulling at a handful as one would the rope on a church bell.

Each using the other as a support to climb, they got back to a (relatively) upright position; there were enough curses thrown around to make a sailor not only blush, but actually catch fire. Wondrously, not only did they land on the dresser, but went up and over it, bringing it along with them as they crashed back into the floor. They needn’t have bothered standing at all really.

Rory was unsure if the idea belonged to her or Badriyah, or possibly it was by neutral consent that they took stock of their surroundings and the multitude of useful weapons, not to mention the various ways in which each could be utilised. Rory first attempted to throw a pillow, as it was the nearest object. Abandoning that doomed project, she next began hurling brushes and shoes and anything that looked like it had a solid edge to it.

Badriyah to her credit was doing equally well and finding her own array of projectile weapons, landing a blow upon the side of Rory’s face and leaving a purple welt. A detached piece of Rory hoped that noise didn’t travel too well down the corridor; else the pair would be in trouble over this “incident.” The detached piece warned caution—very sound advice—but sadly the other part of Rory had given up listening, for it had found the inkpots.

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With eyebrows arched in slightest hint of irritation, Badriyah knocked on the door for the third time, hard enough to send a whisper of pain through her knuckles. Where was this Vera, her mentor? How long had she been waiting now? The young Murandian turned to survey the hallway and stepped away from the door to examine a wall-hanging a little more closely. She did not know whether ones who wielded the Power so often ever felt fatigue - she doubted they did actually - which made her wonder why the Aes Sedai was refusing to answer the door. Perhaps she wished to teach her new mentee patience? Was she busy communing with another? Or was it merely that she wished to express her authority over the new initiate she had been given charge of by making her wait until it pleased her to open the door?

I cannot allow myself to become irritated over such a small matter. I will be required to face far more trying tests in this place. Badriyah turned her face away from the scene depicted in the artwork, it would not calm her were she to allow herself to be sucked into an artist’s passionate world. Must this –

“Are you looking for someone, Novice?” The young woman’s thoughts were startled out of her by the calm, confidant tone of an Aes Sedai. She turned somewhat slowly to an emotionless gaze from eyes set in an ageless face framed by dark hair. Try as she might, she could not guess the origin of this woman by merely looking at her, not having communicated often with travelers from other nations in the wild, dangerous life she had led in Lugard. Badriyah replied without hesitating or stumbling over her words, “A gray sister: Vera,” and almost as an afterthought she added casually, “Sedai”.

Badriyah

Badriyah rose from her bed, donned a clean novice dress, washed in the basin and made little effort to straighten her sleep-disheveled hair before exiting her room and making her way down the corridors to the large chamber where the second lecture of the White Tower and the World course would be held. The young novice slammed her book down on a desk and took her seat. As Saya began speaking, Badriyah ripped out a page of morbid poetry and stuffed it down the front of her shift before carelessly dipping her quill in an inkpot and splattering ink on the blank page before her. She took few notes that day, expecting to be able to remember the less important points accurately enough.

Murandy was not mentioned at all during the whole lesson! What in Shayol Ghul was she to write about?! She knew nothing of what the land thought of Aes Sedai, except that they had been considered a nuisance among her circle as they were not famous for being merciful to any assassins they caught. “The Light burn them! The Light burn them all!” growled Badriyah under her breath, watching her instructor hatefully as the class ended.

-----

The Aes Sedai who greeted them in the library was not the same Aes Sedai who had sat with them the day before. This was one Lavinya of the Gray Ajah, who gave Badriyah a stern look as the young novice dared to meet the Aes Sedai’s gaze defiantly. The Murandian criminal was tempted to offer the other woman a smile but managed to sustain herself. As the novice who had irritated Badriyah previously spoke up attention was diverted from the superior at the table.

My name is Salandrian Faerhind of Ebou Dar. And I don't know about the rest of Altara, but in Ebou Dar, Aes Sedai are mistrusted by most common folk. In the Rahad, their are few who would even look at an Aes Sedai, much less speak to one. And I have noticed that Wise Women, who are are Healers or Wisdoms, avoid Aes Sedai at all costs. Once, when helping one out, the Wise Woman and I walked for an hour out of her way to avoid an Aes Sedai.

“Craven Altarans,” muttered Badriyah to the shocked and angered stares of other girls at the table. Lavinya turned a disapproving gaze to the silver–eyed novice who spoke up mildly as though she had not just voiced a quite prejudice insult, “I am Badriyah, raised for the most part in the capital city in Murandy, the city of Lugard. I didn’t mingle much with the ordinary folk but I believe that we Murandians share a deep enough dislike of Aes Sedai, at least those I kept company with did, and with good reason. Aes Sedai are infamous meddlers who accomplish far less than many believe they do,” and with that she turned a cold stare at Salandrian, daring the other girl to challenge her opinion. From what Badriyah had assessed of the Altaran the day before the girl idolized the work of Aes Sedai, unlike herself and the only other novice who seemed to share her views at the table.

OOC: hope it’s alright! :)

Badriyah

sounds good :) is it too late for me to make a character and join?

i'll probably make a char anyway but i just wanted to know :)

Badriyah followed Gaiya, striding behind her, though apart as though she were not with her and the other novice. The psychopathic novice watched the Accepted’s feet stepping proudly before her and wondered at how hard it would be to make the other woman’s heels bleed. She suppressed a rising rage that threatened to grip her, a hungry anger. Whatever she was going to be forced to endure by this woman, she must maintain her calm, she must not attack her. Gaiya’s attitude tempted Badriyah to take a strike at her. The young novice felt a thrill at the thought of committing violence against her superior. Perhaps if Gaiya detains me longer than I can bare I will allow myself succumb to this, so long as the other girl is not close by. That flaming Accepted is more foolish than she knows.

As they arrived at Gaiya’s chamber and she disappeared behind the door, a novice passed by and addressed the other girl by the name Saline. Badriyah was not one for introductions, but she thought that it would be useful were the other girl to know her name if they would be doing a chore together. She turned a cold, silver – eyed stare at Saline and said without feeling, “Badriyah.”

Badriyah walked carelessly down the corridor that led to the main entrance to the library, bearing a notebook and quill, suppressing excitement at the prospect of what she was about to do. The novice had her facial expressions carefully guarded so that she appeared disinterested to those she cast glances upon as she passed. Unlike some other novices, Badriyah never saw reason to avoid looking at her superiors, no one was about to prosecute her over a look, so she looked as she pleased and often cared not to hide her dislike of them. Let them know. There’s nothing they can do about it anyway, short of allowing me to torture them. the day dream that followed that thought was enough to set her skin tingling in anticipation. If only there was a way to manage it without anyone knowing it was me.

The young woman entered the library and quickened her step almost immediately. She headed toward a shelf near a corner where another novice was reading and pulled out a few books randomly, then piled them up on the floor across from the bookcase. At this point, she could hardly wait, and tossed her notebook and quill down with spite.

Settling down on the floor, back against the wall, facing the looming mass of an old bookcase Badriyah picked up one of the books she had stacked next to her. She hoped the novice sitting near by would not prove to be an impediment to her activities. There were more secluded places in the library, but if someone stumbled upon her hiding suspicion would arise. Better to sit out in the open. No one as busy as these foolish residents of the White Tower would give a second thought to a fresh face studying. It is what nearly every new novice dedicates their time to, thought Badriyah, slyly. She cast shifty glances about her, eyes darting discreetly over at the cozy – looking girl to make sure she had taken no notice of her. Once she was positive she was as invisible as the next novice, she began.

Badriyah bent her knees up to shield her torso from view and set the book open in her lap. Behind it she sharpened her nails using a nail file; then after tucking the file into the bodice of her dress, she started scratching the skin off her palm. Badriyah stared at the little wound with a twisted fascination. She licked her lips, completely absorbed in what she was doing. Light, the pain was good! More, she needed more. She fidgeted anxiously casting her glance around the room again, vaguely aware that the novice nearby was smiling, vaguely aware of the color –banded skirt approaching her close vicinity.

At this point Badriyah couldn’t get herself to care, I need the blood, more pain. I’ll scratch only a little deeper. Only a little. Not enough to leave a scar. Her nail pierced the wound again, then suddenly a shadow was thrown across her and she glanced up to recognize the face of an Accepted other novices often spoke about, one Gaiya Heeldere, notorious for her love of tormenting new initiates. Badriyah’s superior was yammering something about idle novices and a chore. Not now! but the other novice had already risen and was facing the Accepted, hopelessly accepting the situation. As quickly as she realized what was going on, she held her palm to her mouth, feigning a yawn as she licked the blood away, then rose to follow the Accepted with thoughts of completing whatever task was in store for them as quickly and haphazardly as possible so that she could return to her little dark paradise.

Badriyah

Badriyah was awake in bed long before sunrise, using the edge of a plate she had “accidentally” dropped on the floor in the kitchens the day before to carve shallow cuts along the inside of her upper arm, a place she figured few people would ever see in her life in case a scar was left, though she was now used to cutting shallowly which allowed her skin to heal over time and appear as flawless as it had before. Blood dripped onto her fingers in the black and white darkness, oozing, warm, a deliciously dark, rich color that stood out in contrast to the almost bloodless appearance of the skin around the cut. She quivered in relief as she resolved her longing through this form of mutilation. How good it felt to let out that frustration that had been building within her with every passing day since she had arrived! Light, how did I live before I did this? she thought, her eyes drowning in the sight of the blood, her nails scratching gently to keep it from clotting too soon and her mind in a detached state of utter satisfaction.

It was not long after that, when she had finally dozed in sudden relaxation that always gripped her after cutting, when an Accepted entered the room flustered and not at all happy at having been sent to fetch a novice. “Up!” cried the intruder, “Light knows why you’re still asleep anyway you spoiled thing! Two hours in the morning and here’s a lazy novice lying about as though she were in her father’s manor! Did you not hear me?” she bellowed, “Vera Sedai summons you, attend!”

Badriyah ignored the Accepted's raving and threw the sheets aside, leaving the accepted to gawk at the dried blood on her hands and on the bodice of her shift. She said emotionlessly, without looking at the other, “My father owned nothing, not a copper coin,” then, “You may leave now, you have done your duty and fetched me, I will be off shortly,” dismissing the other girl as though she were in a position to dismiss this one who was actually her superior. The girl huffed and puffed and scolded Badriyah excessively before taking leave of her. The young Murandian took little notice of the other’s anger as she washed her hands and face and combed her fingers through her wild brown hair. When she had finished dressing she quitted her cubicle of a chamber and started on a search for Vera’s room.

The young woman had been lying when she had told her intruder that she knew where the Aes Sedai’s apartments were, she had merely wished to be rid of an unwanted companion. She now strolled about freely asking directions when in need until she found Vera’s room. She was, perhaps, half an hour late by this time, but cared little and knocked on the door fearlessly, then took up a bored posture as she waited for the Aes Sedai to appear.

Badriyah

Badriyah had had what she classified as a “dull” morning. In the morning she had attended a Daes Dae’mar class in an enormous old hall; then just as she had stepped out of the room after the lecture an Accepted had caught her by the arm and told her she was to go wash dishes in the kitchens. She had planned to spend an hour after that caring for her hands and precious long fingernails by using a rose – scented lotion a Yellow sister had concocted for her and perhaps cutting herself for a little blood when she had remembered that she was due for a class with her mentor, Vera Sedai, and not just any class, but a class that she had been told was the primary and most important class that all Aes Sedai had been forced to take as novices: an introduction to saidar . Now it was not as though Badriyah was in any rush to learn how to use that ability to access a the One Power that lay untouched within her; she was a little interested in it, she had to admit to herself, though not enough to be enthusiastic about attending yet another class. I brought this all upon myself by coming here, I might as well accept this way of life until I’ve lived another hundred years or so. My enemies should be gone by then, thought the young Murandian grimly.

As she stepped into the class she realized that she was indeed a little early, there was only one other novice there already. I could’ve stopped by my quarters and at least rubbed a little lotion into these dry hands! This put Badriyah into a sour mood. She took her seat and slammed her notebook onto her desk. Why in Shayol Ghul had she even thought of coming to this prison in the first place? Light, but life at the Tower was hard. It had now been several days since she had seen blood and her hunger was beginning to gnaw at her, though she was trying her best to keep a firm hold about her wits and not go murder a fellow resident of the novice quarters in the middle of the night. It just wouldn’t do for anyone to discover her weakness. It would merely take her life to a whole new level of complication.

Once everyone had arrived and was seated Badriyah’s mentor began the lesson, Welcome Novices. I’m Vera Sedai, of the Gray Ajah. I shall be teaching you your first lessons on Saidar today. However, before we do so, I think it would be nice if I know each and everyone of you by your name. Please give your name and tell us something about yourself.

Badriyah was not pleased at having to introduce herself. Oh, wonderful. Hi, my name is Badriyah and I am a psychopath, how very nice to meet you, Aes Sedai! thought the young novice sarcastically. However, when it came to her turn she managed decently, she supposed, with, “My name is Badriyah Bloodlover and I have no family.” The Aes Sedai gave Badriyah a knowing smile, a smile Badriyah did not return.

Vera went on to explain that all the Tower rules were to be observed at all times, something Badriyah had heard repeatedly since having arrived at the White Tower. She sat back and chewed the end of her pen fairly uninterestedly throughout this bit of talk. The next part was a little more interesting, and though she had adopted a bored expression she listened as carefully as ever. She was not one to reveal her true feelings to anyone no matter what they were, and she had to cover up for being so aware of her surroundings. Her memory and the intensity of her alertness might make others suspicious of her, at least that’s what she always thought. An expert assassin was never far from danger, and had to pay unending attention to her surroundings at all times.

What is saidar? It was a good question really, though it had really never occurred to Badriyah, having never been high on her list of things to ponder, which was fairly limited most of the time anyway. The energy of all things? If Aes Sedai can control the energy that comes from all things does that make them able to control people then, since they can harness their energy? It would be…rewarding to be able to compel people beyond their will. She was so entertained by the thought that for a few moments she neglected to listen to what the Aes Sedai was saying.

The next thing she knew a candle at the front of the room appeared to light itself. It was the first time Badriyah had ever witnessed the True Source being channeled to make a specific task, and it was a little impressive.

“ Now, the One Power is divided into elements.” said the Aes Sedai with what Badriyah thought was a pleased expression about her features, “I’ve already shown you two of these, so tell me, what do you think these elements would be, if I told you they were drawn from the natural world? Badhriyah? What do you think?” Badriyah rose swiftly and recited the elements as she had heard they were, “Water. Air. Fire. Earth. Spirit..” As she spoke her instructor brought out weaves of different colors for all to observe.

Vera went on to explain that touching saidar would be an incredible experience for Badriyah and her classmates, that one can become addicted to saidar, though the young student doubted it was more addictive than her current addiction and raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at her instructor. So we are not to become addicted to it, nor are we to attempt to channel it on our own. Typical enough of Aes Sedai, greedy in all things it seems, even in something that so few people can ever access.

It was not until three hours past noon that Badriyah found herself in the enormous and legendary library of the White Tower with her notebook, quill and inkpot looking up the names of women who had been stilled. Once she had two names written down, along with a few paragraphs about each based on the information she had attained, she rose and exited the great chambers of shelves and scrolls, feeling as irritated by the task she had had to do as she felt sufficiently prepared for the next class.

Badriyah

Badriyah was suspicious of the novice she replied to, who now had an eyebrow raised at her. She thoroughly ignored the comment the other made by studying her nails and feigning disinterest, but now and then she flashed her eyes about discreetly to make sure all was as it should be. She did notice, however, that the first novice to express an opinion, something regarding Artur Hawkwing’s negative reaction to Aes Sedai, appeared to be fuming. Is she going to reprimand us then? Badriyah wondered idly, not caring enough about the matter.

“ How do you know you cannot change the world?” started the girl passionately, “Think of all the people who would be dead if the Yellow Aes Sedai had not saved them. Think of all the wars that would have been started if the Grey Ajah had not negotiated peace. Think of all the men who would have gone mad and killed the-Creator-knows how many, if the Red Ajah had not gentled them.”

At the end of this speech Badriyah glanced over at the Mistress of Novices who nodded approvingly at her classmate. I must be wary of this one. She would do anything for an Aes Sedai. She might as well have kissed the hem of Pia’s skirt as given that speech! I must indeed keep a close eye on her, and be as careful around her as one in my position would be around a Whitecloak.

Badriyah tactfully delved in the silence a little more before abruptly bursting into a lame applause, “Well done! I believe your speech has served its true purpose!” she said slyly, watching the girl and casting her eyes inconspicuously once over to the Mistress of Novices, to give the girl the idea of the hidden meaning in her words. The others seemed a little startled at the young Murandian’s sudden outburst of clapping, which pleased her. Perhaps the novice who had stated that “this was a waste of time” would understand. She gave her pessimistic classmate who seemed to share her views about Aes Sedai a very small, very wicked smile.

Badriyah

Badriayh sat in a relaxed posture at her desk allowing the others to go on about what they thought of Aes Sedai. She shifted her eyes between the girls as each took her turn to speak about what she believed. The young Murandian had no intention of participating whatsoever, though she did take the occasional note down, so it was not until a novice piped up the following speech that she spoke:

Mmmm, I agree. However I also think that the Aes Sedai haven’t tried to convince the people different. The White Tower like the nations fearful respect. Why discuss the Aes Sedai reputation when we'll never try to change it?

Daring, thought Badriyah blandly. She yawned lazily and was about to stretch like a cat rising after a deep nap and planning to sleep a little more when she noticed the Mistress of Novices looking at her expectantly in the awkward silence. So she was to give her opinion was she? Oh well, since you force me. She thought with a slight wicked excitement building up within her at being able to express her sour feelings on the matter.

“Change.” said Badriyah with a ponderous air. She waited to make sure she had the others’ attention then continued with purpose, “Change is not in our hands. We are mere novices and were it that we were Aes Sedai would it really be any different? You may know about what you think is right, you may apply it to your own everyday life, but you cannot force others to. Everyone has freewill; at least no Aes Sedai is ever compelled. And what one person can do is so miniscule to the whole world that it might as well be classed insignificant, no matter how powerful the person is. Not all lands are ruled by Aes Sedai, anyway, and in many nations Aes Sedai are actually loathed. They are not as powerful as is made out to be or as seems to us here in the White Tower. Not only that, but Aes Sedai are restricted to a set of rules that they themselves put into place, they have set their own limits to what they can do to alter present situations worldwide.” Badriyah looked the novice who had spoken about change in the eye, saying in measured, calm tones, “Do as you please and enjoy yourself. Do not think too much about others. One person cannot improve the world alone: join the rest of us.”

The young killer was not about to expand on that last bit, let them make of it as they will, she thought dismissively. It could have meant several things and if questioned she would simply state that the connotation in her words were meant to encourage passiveness, rather than aggression, the latter of which had been her intentional meaning.

OOC: Please tell me if there's anything I need to change :)

Badriyah

Badriyah rose wearily after another night of unrelenting insomnia. She sniffed the shift she wore automatically, as she did everyday, to ensure that it didn’t need washing, then snatched a fresh, white novice dress and pulled it over her head. Once she had washed her face, hands and long fingernails, the latter especially very carefully, she exited her quarters and headed out to locate the classroom where she was to have her first lesson of the Daes Dae’mar course she had signed up for. She held her head high as she walked down the gallery, looking through the faces that passed her. It was not an attitude formed out of haughtiness or noble heritage, it was a defensive pose she had learned to strike while working as an assassin in Lugard.

Badriyah’s lips turned up into a hollow smile. Had one of the other novices not told her it was starting today and asking if she had signed up she would not have known the subject of the class she was attending today. They had told her she had to sign up for a number of courses. She had signed up for them randomly, not caring to see what they were about. What did it matter anyway? None of it would be to her taste.

Ahead, in the wing where the class was to be held, she spotted the girl who had informed her about the topic of the course. She watched her carefully, taking care to follow her into the same room, a giant, old, lecture hall, though not to follow her too closely so as not to look like she was with her. Taking out a plain notebook and a pen reminded Badriyah of how she had first learned to read and write. It wasn’t until she had been around twelve years old, after she had joined a group of hirelings who killed for high prices in Murandy, when their leader insisted that she was to be taught. When none volunteered to teach her he had taken the job on himself. Ironic, she thought, that this skill he had taught her would continue to be used by his killer long after his death.

The young Murandian glanced around, noticing that she was neither the first nor the last to enter the room. Novices of all shapes and sizes were still hurrying in, huffing and puffing, talking in hushed excited tones and gesturing enthusiastically. What could they possibly have to be happy about? They were destined to be slaves to a system, and they were so eager for the life of an Aes Sedai, that phony life of sitting around in chairs all day, sipping tea from porcelain cups and talking to “influential” people about matters they considered important. Fools, thought Badriyah with disgust and disdain, flaming children! They’re so naïve it’s almost pitiable.

Badriyah abruptly noticed the question that had been put up on the board, What is Daes Dae’mar? it read. Badriyah glanced around expectantly, she cared not to participate unless she had to, and there were certainly plenty of other novices that looked as thought they would like to. She would leave it to them, she decided silently. Badriyah idly tapped the end of her pen on the desk, tossed her head to get dark, stray strands of her long, wild hair out of her face and waited.

Badriyah

**snuggles mentor and mentee** ty you guys :)))

just wanted to say that I now use this account, so my handle is badriyah now.