Mwahahahahaha... I reappear and they all do!!!

Ooohhhh! Lemme know when you start and I'll post right away! :D

If you need an old cranky ex-Warder I'm here! :D

Shoar gave you Military Advice!

<_<

>_>

*flees back to the Warders Yards*

OOC: Greets! Well I'm on my way to WS 18 and this will be my first post in an attempt for that, I reeeally hope I read the requirements correctly *laughs* It is an Open RP, all Trainees/TG are welcome. I will be making a post every 2 days whether people respond or not. :) Enjoy!

Shoar's eyes snapped open as he awoke from his slumber, his senses alert for any sense of wrongness. Years of living in the Blight had taught him to sleep lightly and his time back in Tar Valon had not changed that. He lay still, scanning for what had woken him, then relaxed as he heard a noise coming from downstairs. Roshgar must have awoke and was preparing the inn for the day to come.

Getting up, he scratched his head and stared out the window. "Nearly dawn... he thought to himself, suppressing a yawn and getting up. Washing his face, he reached for his clothes and began to dress, wearing his usual clothes of black slacks and a white, sleeveless shirt. His picked up his twin blades and buckled them to his belt then attached his fancloak to his back and adjusted his eyepatch until it was comfortable. Donning his leather gloves last, he tied his shoulder-length greying hair back and walked out of his room, locking the door behind him.

Downstairs Roshgar had already prepared a meal for him. Shoar nodded and sat down, beginning to eat. He chatted with Roshgar about events that were happening around Tar Valon, finishing his meal off quickly. He had a class to teach this morning and he wanted to get a small amount of training in. Bidding farewell to Roshgar, Shoar exited the inn and into the pre-dawn.

He wandered up to the Tower, passing through the gates. The two guards on duty nodded stiffly at him, eyeing the fancloak. Shoar smiled wryly and shook his head. He continued up until he had made it to his tree.

Unsheathing his swords, he slipped into the Spring, the well of emotion rising up to engulf everything. Forms appeared out of the Spring and were consumed by his swords. Cutting The Cross to unsheathe became Aielman Takes A Stance became Night Of Shooting Stars became... Form after form, he moved fluidly from one to the next. "Still not good enough..." he frowned, beginning to speed up a little.

He had been training for a good hour when the first of the class he was to teach began to show up, assembling under the tree. There they stood, Guards and Trainees alike, watching Shoar move from form to form, the fancloak swirling around to confuse the eyes.

He finally spun to face the class mid-form and said "The Bond." Sheathing his swords and sitting down in one flourish, he motioned for his class to sit down as well. "You are here to learn about the Bond. I am here to teach you about it. Please have a seat, we have a lot to get through."

OOC: OK, two days from now next post goes up. :) I will be basing my posts off what others post in here, so please have some fun here guys. :D

Shoar Gaidin

Shoar watched the youngling walk in, looking around uncertainly. He spoke to Arani and walked to a man of comparable size to Shoar, but much younger, wearing the Fancloak and with a heron mark at his waist. "uh, Sir, um Master Frein.” the boy stammered, clearly uncomfortable about his task. He blurted out “Cairma asked me to deliver this to you.”

Shoar sighed and put his tankard down, staring moodily at it. "Even the title of Gaidin is not used anymore... Light I stayed away too long. Too much has been forgotten." he thought to himself. Still, the boy had seemed very nervous, perhaps he simply did not know the correct honorific.

He signalled for another tankard of ale, Arani delivering it with a smile and a grin as Shoar flipped another coin at her. Being the daughter of Roshgar she had grown up with Shoar hanging around until he disappeared when she was 12.

He chuckled and took another deep drink of the ale, his attention drawn to a loud argument beginning in the group at the bar. Raising an eye to Roshgar, Shoar's free hand began moving to the gloves attached to his belt. The barkeep shook his head very slightly and Shoar halted, nodding back and continued drinking, watching the events carefully. He kept an especially close eye on the younglings, their group happily drinking and laughing amongst themselves.

The hairs on the back of Shoar's neck stood up. Something was about to happen. He put the tankard down decisively and reached for his gloves, putting them on and drawing them tight. Roshgar rolled his eyes and Shoar grinned back. He picked up his tankard and continued his drink, lounging back.

Shoar Gaidin

Somebody gonna get a hurt real bad

Baaaaaaaah, I have dealt with the Sisters Of Destruction! BRING IT ON!

*suddenly feels very alone*

Oh god. You guys are radiating that same EVIL ENERGY!

I'm screwed.

*waves hand* Me please! :D

We had something like that aaaaaaages ago... I think that's one of the files I lost though. :(

Just remember to include Razynne's Patch and Shoar's Tree ;D

Shoar nodded his head at the smaller man as he walked out the door. "Dumbadaemor ey? I'll have to remember that one..." he chuckled to himself, a twinkle in his eye.

Shoar took the seat, glancing around the room as he did so. It had not changed much, all of his personal items had gone, of course, but it was still the same old room he had spent so many years in. While he was glancing around the room, he said "I am here to fulfill an old promise to someone." he said, turning and looking at the man seated on the other side of the desk. "Someone long gone from this world."

He leaned forward, clasping his gloved hands together and staring at the current Commander, Brand Ryota Shoar now recognised him as, with his eye. "I made a promise to my first Bondholder, Ryell, to never die. I mean to keep it too. Despite the fact I have been in the Blight, hunting Shadowspawn for the past 13 years does not mean I have surrendered to the Bleakness." He smiled wryly at this. "Ryell would kill me. The loss of three bonds may have been enough to drive me away, but not enough to force me to end my life in the Blight."

He leaned back and continued talking "I return to train and to teach, that is all. My principle reason is to return here to train, as my skills have lessened fighting nothing but Trollocs and Fades. They are enough to keep my skills sharp but I lack the finesse I once had. Perhaps it is due to age" he smiled wryly at this "but neverthless, I need to train, to improve, to become as I once was."

With his next words, his eye flashed and his forehead creased into a frown. "I also return to teach, to teach younglings what it means to be Gaidin. The name appears to have become something of a mockery, if the reactions of the party from Tar Valon I met during the Kandor Siege was anything to go by." with this he stood and began pacing the room, his voice taking a sharper tone. "The Guards are, to a man, entirely disciplined, skilled and exceptional at their job." He paused at this. "Except the two fellows at the front gate." He turned and folded his arms. "But the respect for Gaidin is gone. Commander, I can remember a time when the title of Gaidin was respected on the same level as that of Tower Guard. From what little I see it is now a symbol of derision, of division between the two groups."

"I do not question your methods or your teaching. From what little I have seen, the Guard could not have been left in better hands when I departed. But this disrespect for Gaidin is something I can not and will not stand for. Even if I cannot change the perceptions currently held, even if it is futile, I cannot just stand idly by and do nothing."

He sighed and returned to his seat "Maybe I am just a foolish old man. Maybe the loss of my bonds takes a harsher toll on me then I first thought. But I will not stand for some impudent little upstart mocking me and the sacrifice I and many others before me have made. Not someone who has never felt themselves be bonded to another, soul to soul, then to have that soul ripped out and replaced with nothing but emptiness and Shadow." He wilted a little at this, then sat up, firmness and resolve returning to his demeanour. "That is why I have returned. I do not crave my old positions. I do not crave recognition. I am merely here to train and to pass on my knowledge to new generations."

He sat back, watching the other man who had kept silent during his tirade. Shoar did not enter the Spring, instead deciding to leave himself open for this discussion.

OOC: There ya go ;) He's got his same temperment and he REALLY doesn't like people dismissing Gaidin. Might make for a fiery argument if it works out that way. *l*

Shoar Gaidin

Warder

Shoar leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as he took in the smell of the food in front of him. He had spent a hard day training and was looking forward to his dinner. He nodded at Arani, the serving wench who smiled at him and went up to the bar. The hulking barkeep, Roshgar, drew a full tankard of ale and Arani brought it to Shoar. He smiled and flipped her a coin, taking a deep swig and began eating.

The Gaidin's Way had never been a well known or frequented tavern. It had mostly only been visited by Gaidin and their like, Tower Guards tended to visit the more open bars. It was recieving even less business now as the title of Gaidin seemed to be becoming less popular around the Yard. "Times do change..." Shoar thought to himself, eating some more of his dinner. "Gaidin used to be a Revered title, something to aspire too... Ahh well."

While Shoar was eating, some more people began coming in. Roshgar had stopped being so picky about those he let in recently and he tended to get some less then reputable patrons. These were of that ilk. Shoar watched as more and more came in, finishing off his meal and ordering another tankard of Ale.

As he was beginning his second, the door swung open again and a troupe of younglings came waltzing in. Shoar eyed them carefully. They had the beginnings of the walk of a warrior but were still a bit unsteady. He recognised one or two of the faces from the yards and nodded. "Not surprising they picked here... It is an unknown bar." Shoar leaned back with his tankard and watched the room. His twin swords lay on the chair next to him, always close at hand.

OOC: OK, Sahra and any other Trainee who wants to get in trouble, here's your chance. *g*

Shoar Gaidin

Shoar examined the edge of the blade as the man below spoke, eyeing it for any nicks. Satisfied, he picked up the scabbard and sheathed the sword, picking it and it's twin up. He got to his feet, putting one hand on the trunk of the tree and staring at it.

"You know, this tree was only a quarter of it's size when it was named Shoar's Tree. By my mentees, of course. Mostly because I spent so much time up here, but the other reason was because I used to make them spend the night up here when they'd misbehaved." he chuckled, catching the first rock that came speeding up from down below.

He began tossing the rock up and down, stepping backwards to avoid the second one. "There's also another reason but I can see you're not interested in that." he said as he sidestepped to avoid another and caught the second that had been thrown at him. He stepped off the branch and sailed to the ground, moving his head to avoid another stone. As he landed nimbly, a last stone nicked him on the ear as it sailed past.

He paused, reaching up to scratch the area around his eyepatch, then straightened. "Well, well. You do have some skill." "I'm also out of practise..." he thought to himself. "Very well, let's go see this fellow of yours." letting the rocks drop to the ground, he motioned for the younger man to follow.

Shoar Gaidin

Shoar chuckled and leaned back on his haunches, stretching his arms out. He hadn't realised there was a perfect gap in the branches that allowed people to see him from the ground here. He caught a snatch of the conversation between the youngling and the older man from below.

"Nothing important, just something reminded me of Aran." the older one said, while glancing straight up at Shoar. Shoar thought for a second "Aran, Aran... Doesn't ring any bells... Light, I used to know ever name and face here... The two down below wandered off, their voices fading.

Shoar sighed and allowed himself to properly sit down with his legs crossed. Easing his scabbards to one side, he unsheathed Cor'Aan, the sword he took from Ryell's father. He stared at it for a time, the light splaying across the darkened blade, the Dragon's Fang etched into the hilt of the sword. He remember how Ryell had told him the sword had been considered cursed and never used, then the first time Shoar had used it to fight... It was in the defense of Ryell...

He shook himself out of his revery and sighed again, sheathing the sword. He unsheathed his other blade, Mi'Cue, the one that Ryell had had crafted for him by the finest weaponsmiths in Shienar to go with Cor'Aan. She had had a hand in the crafting of it herself... She had taken up hammer and forge to help in the creation of it. The blade was a lighter colour then Cor'Aan, with the Flame Of Tar'Valon on the hilt to match Cor'Aan.

Pulling out a whetstone, he began sharpening the blade, eyeing it in the mid-afternoon light filtering down through the branches of the tree. After a short while he said "When are you going to say something? You've been there for a little while now." and kept sharpening the blade, his concentration on the task at hand.

OOC: As far as I know I still have my power-wrought blade... I'm sure the current versions of the Incarnations will let me know if that has changed of course! :)

Shoar Gaidin

Any and all can post on my thread! I'm itching to get my RP fingers typing! :D

The last time he graced the yards were 12 years ago, so many people won't recognise him ;)

JUST LET ME STICK MY SWORDS IN SOMETHING! *foams at the mouth*

In all seriousness, I have always, always, always loved a big battle up in the North. Defending Shienar from a Shadow invasion or something... Just like the Borderlands RP from waaaaaaaay back when. *g*

I got in trouble LAST time! :P But then, that was 3 years ago or so >.>

First post be up now :) Sorry about putting stuff about Tar Valon in there, I know technically I shoulda split it up into two and put half and half but I wanted to get it all done in one post/ ;P

Having rode many days and nights from the Borderlands, Shoar rode slowly towards the gates of Tar Valon, pausing a short distance away to look up at the sacred tower. How long has it been... he thought to himself, since he last rode into the city. 10 years? 15? Too many...

The many hard years of suriving in The Blight had taken it's toll on Shoar. His once jet-black hair now had a healthy smattering of grey through it and his body bore many more scars then he had when he last left. He paused in reflection, remembering the happier times he had spent at the Tower, until...

Shaking himself, he clicked his tongue at his horse, Spring. Silver, his faithul mount of many, many years had passed on five years prior and he had acquired the spirited mare Spring from Shienar. She was a true-bred warhorse, responding to his every command. When she feels like it, of course he chuckled to himself, as Spring began to trot forward.

Shoar dug his heels in slightly and she broke into a canter, sensing her masters apprehension at the gates moving steadily towards them. In short order he was at the Gates of Tar Valon, the entrance to the ciy.

He nodded at a guard stationed nearby. Shoar didn't recognise the man, but that was no surprise. I would be surprised if ANY were left whom served under me... he thought to himself. He rode through the gates. The two guards on station said nothing as he rode past. His fancloak was safely stashed away in his saddlebags and his swords appeared to be common travellers swords, not the masterworks they actually were.

He stopped once he was inside the gates, Spring pawing the ground nervously as she sensed Shoar's unease. He dismounted and comforted her by stroking her nose, then began leading her through the city, heading to an inn he knew all too well. The Gaidin's Way was not a well known or visited tavern, but it was a place he was always able to call home.

Throwing a coin to the boy out the front of the stables nearby, Shoar handed over the reigns to Spring with caution that she likes to kick if not treated properly. The lad bit the coin, nodded and lead Spring into a stall. Shoar turned and then halted before entering the tavern.

I will have to say hello to Roshgar... he thought, referring to the owner of the Tavern. But first... I want to visit my tree.

Shoar headed towards the White Tower, going down side streets and main roads without even thinking, the path having been burned into his head long ago.

As he approached the entrance to the Warders Yards, he was blocked by two guards. "State yer business with the Warders, old man." Shoar stared and said "I only wish to come in and have a look, young masters. I am a travelling swordsman and I have heard stories of the legendary Gaidin, I wish to see them training if I may..." The two young guards took into account Shoar's twin swords and hesitated, eyeing him closer. Finally they nodded and let him through. Once he was past he rolled his eyes. Light take me, I'd have their ears if I were still in charge...

He looked around the Yards, taking in a long, deep breath. He HAD missed this, now he had time to think on it. The Yards had been where he had grown up. He glanced over at the bridge, at the small patch of grass by the river known to many Wards as Radzynne's Patch. He smiled affectionately at the thought of his old master... He wondered if they even remembered her now.

He turned around and headed for a particular spot in the Yards. He had not come here to reminisce on those things. He passed by a number of young trainees duelling and felt more and more eyes on him. A stranger in the Yards was not something one often saw, especially not one in his early fifties like Shoar. Shoar had already spotted his target, however. A large oak tree, planted in one corner of the Yards.

He stopped in front of it and placed his hand on the trunk. This tree is what his mentees had called Shoar's Tree. He had spent a good deal of his time here in it's branches, lost in his thoughts. He circled the trunk, aware that more and more people were looking at him now, until he was hidden behind the trunk of the tree. He grinned and reached out his hands to the nearest branch. In a flash and with a nimbleness that showed he had not lost any of his strenght or agility, he had ascended the tree and taken seat in one of his usual branches.

Leaning back, he watched the goings on in the yard, safe in knowing that noone could see him up there. Or so he thought...

OOC: Well... It's been a while, so apologies if the writing style is a bit rusty. :) The current Chief Of Security (or Captain of the Guard or whatever the title has changed to now ;) Brand Ryota is gonna catch Shoar at this stage, anyone else is free to post impressions of Shoar coming back. ;)

Shoar Gaidin

Former Bondholder to Ryell Sedai, Reile Sedai and Nimue Sedai

You can't escape, Mata... I still remember where you were in the family chart with Radzy and myself. ;)

I want to get in touch with some of the old people I haven't spoken to in... God. Ages. Sparhawk, Radzy, Reile... Maaaan I miss them.

Awwwww... I guess I'm uncool then, I like the Gaidin thing. ;D

Ahhhh, excellent, stuff I can start RPing on! Thanks for the info! :D

Hmmmm... Actually that might work well. I still want to try and get into the Kandor RP to do Shoar's return, so if we set that one to occur after this one, that'll work...

I like it! Do you want me to start? :D

Joram... Now THERE'S a name I've nod heard in a long time...

I still can't believe Mat is in charge of this madhouse >_> If I'm Ancient she's Legendary by now!

I remember a number of names but it has been a looooong time and the old memory is a bit lacking...

Hi all! Extreme-oldbie Shoar here, returning from a long hiatus to join in on the RP fun.

I have seen Ryell's name being put down in the Origins of the White Tower thread and figured that if she'd held in such high reverence I might put up a post or two of her work... *l* For those of you who don't know I was her Warder.

Here is Ry's arches post. I'm only including the original post, but I have the RP that followed.

ARCHES: FINALLY GAINING OFFICIAL ACCEPTANCE

OOC: Excruciatingly long, NINE whole pages in Word. Prepare to be bored senseless! Here we go…

Ryell was lying on her bed. Her muscles still smarted from the hard work she’d done at the farm, but at least she finally had her “outdoors” look back again. Suddenly, the door was thrown open. Soraya came in.

“Come with me girl, and don’t ask any questions.” The Mistress of the Novices looked so stern that Ryell kept her mouth shut and just followed her. What under the Light had she done now? Surely she couldn’t be in trouble yet again. Soraya was now leading her into the lowest regions of the Tower. Soon the corridors became dusty, clearly no one had been here in years. There were no windows to let in any light. When Ryell thought they must surely have reached the lowest level, Soraya stopped in front of a heavy oaken door. When they entered, Ry could barely stifle a gasp. In the centre of the room were three silver arches, set on a wide ring. The arches glowed softly. Three sisters sat at the base of them, surrounded by the light of Saidar. The only other thing in the room was a table. On it were three cups. Behind the table was the only friendly face she knew: Lanfir Sedai, her mentor and a friend. She didn’t look friendly now. She looked like the Head of the Green Ajah. And so, this must be Ryell’s test for Acceptance. Fear suddenly gripped her stomach like an icy fist. She stilled the feeling at once. There was no shame in knowing fear, only in giving in to it.

Soraya turned to face Ryell. "Novices are given three chances at this," Soraya intoned. "You may refuse twice to enter, but at the third refusal, you will be sent away from the Tower forever." Ry nodded. She knew she had to go through with this. No one can stay the same forever. "Good," Soraya said, nodding once. "Now I will tell you two things no woman hears until she stands where you do. First. Once you begin, you must go on until the end. Refuse at any point, and you will be put out of the Tower just as if you had refused to begin for the third time. Second. To seek, to strive, is to know danger." The Mistress of the Novices look steely. Had the test been hard for her? "Some women have entered, and never come out. When the ter'angreal was allowed to grow quiet, they--were--not--there." No shame in knowing fear, Ry told herself. I WILL come back. I have a lot to come back to. "They were never seen again. If you will survive, you must be steadfast. Falter, fail, and..." Soraya trailed off, sympathy in her eyes. "This is your last chance. If you refuse now, it counts as only the first refusal. You may still try twice more. If you accept now, there is no turning back. It is no shame to refuse. Choose."

“I have to go on. I’ll take the test.” Soraya told her to strip down and led her to the table.

“Whom do you bring with you Sister?" Lanfir intoned.

"One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance, Sister." Soraya replied.

"Is she ready?"

"She is ready to leave behind what she was, and, passing through her fears, gain Acceptance."

"Does she know her fears?"

"She has never faced them but now is willing."

"Then let her face what she fears."

“The first time is for what was. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”

Ryell steeled herself and walked into the first, glowing Arch. The light burned her world away.

It was late spring. The sun was just rising and the courtyard was filled with the sound of soldiers mounting up for a patrol. For a moment, it seemed as if she was floating, the world swimming around her. Then she found herself staring at a horse’s saddle, and her hands were tightening the straps. She’d been here before. The year before coming to the Tower, she’d been here. Part of her, a part that was separate from the rest of her, knew that in its bones. It was as if there were two of her in this head, a younger Ryell preparing herself for a routine patrol, unaware of anyone else in her head, and an older Ryell, chillingly aware of what would happen today. The older half of her wondered briefly how she got here. But there was no point in asking that. She knew why she was here, and when the time came, she would act.

The patrol headed out. The young Ryell took a deep breath. It was a beautiful day but she couldn’t see it. Although she was scanning the surroundings like she should, her mind was on other things. However much she looked, she carefully avoided the man riding at the head of their column. Daniel al’Caar, the scoutmaster and her best friend. And, sadly, her lover. She’d had a crush on him when he first came to their fortress, but she had been only thirteen at the time, and those feelings had passed with time. Later, despite their friendship, they had slept together a few times, mostly for comfort. For Ryell, it had not meant that much. He was her friend first. But for him, it had meant more. Last night, she and he had fought, and she was still angry with him. Feelings swirled inside her, hurt, fear, betrayal and guilt. That separate part of her recognised them. It still hurt her, after all these years.

“I’m leaving. It’s time I moved on,” he’d said. It had not taken much to find out why he was leaving. He loved her, but she didn’t feel the same way and he knew it. O, she loved him and needed him all right, just not in that way. But she did need him, Light, she did. Who else would she turn to; who else was that close to her? He couldn’t go, she told him as much. Couldn’t he get over it? But he couldn’t and now their friendship was going to end like this, in grief. That other part of her suddenly remembered another man’s face, dark and serious, but it was gone almost as soon as she saw it.

The patrol was nearing the site were, the older Ryell knew, they would be ambushed. She still remembered it, and skin that would bear scars in the future twitched. If she’d had control over her muscles they would have tensed up.

For the separate part of her, time now seemed to slow to a crawl. She was facing a Fade. She could see it had lost its sword, and was using a normal one. She almost missed that; the sword was so black with blood. The younger part of her was focused only on the fight, but the older Ryell saw Daniel, fighting a Trolloc nearby. Ryell was retreating, walking backwards carefully. But the ground was uneven, and she stepped into a hole half-hidden by a dead body. She fell, and the sword snaked down. Ry managed to roll out of the way barely in time, but the serpentine creature managed to lash her side, before another soldier beheaded it. It had all happened in a few seconds.

There was still time to save Daniel, if only she could get to him. But as her body rolled to get to its feet, that older part of her saw what the younger Ryell hadn’t. When Daniel saw the Fade’s sword slash her, he had stopped fighting, knowing that a touch of a Myrdraal’s blade meant certain death. When he thought he saw her die, he stopped wanting to live. She could see it in his eyes. The Trolloc was going to kill him, run him through while he stood there. There was a window, only a few seconds but she still had the time to save him. She wanted to, she did, but when she began running, there was a silver arch, beckoning her. A disembodied voice whispered “The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.” Ryell hesitated for a moment, and then she threw herself through the arch. She felt, rather than heard, the sound of a sword passing through mail, boiled leather and flesh. The light burned her to ashes.

Ryell fell to her knees. She was sobbing uncontrollably, crying for herself, for him and for what never was. Someone poured water over her head.

"You are washed clean," Lanfir pronounced, standing over her, "of what sin you may have done, and of those done against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us clean and pure, in heart and soul."

“Are you ready to proceed?” Soraya asked her.

Ryell was shaking, but there was no choice now. She had to go on. A thought was haunting her: “If you want to rebuild, you first have to tear down.” What was going to happen to her?

“The second arch is for what is. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”

She stepped through the arch and this time, the arch burned everything away. The past, the future, until only the present remained.

Ryell Jagad, newly Raised sister of the Green Ajah, was finally coming home. For the first time since leaving for Tar Valon, she would see her home and her father again. This time, she swore to herself, things would be different. She was no longer a child, easily angered and easily cowed. She was a woman now, Raised to the Shawl, and she would face her father. Would he still be the same? She remembered how he sometimes would lift her up by the arm, nearly wrenching it out of the socket, so he could peer into her face. Or the casual backhands, stinging more because of their carelessness than the pain. "Shut up girl." But mostly she remembered the endless rules. There had been rules for everything, from the way she dressed to what food she ate. For lessons, for free time, for her friends and her servants and most of all for her thoughts. It was all part of the obsessive habits, bordering on madness, he had developed since her mother died. Well, he would finally tell her why he had treated her like that. This time, she would not let him tell her off.

The stablehand who took her horse didn’t recognise her. She’d been away for so long. Too long. But she still knew where her father’s study was. When she opened the door, it seemed as if time had stood still. The room was still shrouded in darkness. Books lined the walls. Over the fireplace was the life-sized portrait of her mother he had put up after Darise Jagad’s death. Odd skulls and weapons were spaced across the room. In his favourite armchair was her father. He hadn’t changed either. His tall, muscular body was rigid, still proud and strong and completely inaccessible. Long, deft hands slid an oily rag across the longsword on his lap. His dark beard was shot with a little more grey, as were his bushy eyebrows. There might have been a few more lines in his face. But his eyes were the same, still burning with that same intensity. Her heart clenched with remembered fear. How often had that look scared her before she learned to ignore it? Too often.

“Father.”

“You’re home, then. When did you gain the Shawl?” He didn’t even consider that she had come home before getting Raised.

“Two weeks ago. I came home straight away. I need to talk to you. About…. The past, I’d say.”

“Your mother. You want to talk about your mother. She shouldn’t have died, no, no, she shouldn’t, but the Dark One took her from us. There’s Darkfriends everywhere, daughter. I hope I taught you that much.”

Ryell sighed. It was going to be one of those conversations. If he started drifting like this, it always took so much effort to get him back.

“Why under the Light are you doing this? It’s been more than twenty years! She’s dead, father. She got killed by accident. The Darkfriends weren’t after her. Let it go. Can’t you see what has happened? You stole my childhood. I don’t know what you tried to “teach” me, but it drove me mad. I couldn’t even bear to hear your voice in the end. Even the sound of your footsteps got me so fired up, I couldn’t think straight. All I ever did when I lived with you was see to it no one found out how weird you were really getting. You hit me! You lived my life for me, and for BLOODY WHAT?” She finally noticed she was shouting. Not a child anymore, yet still easily angered. But not cowed. Not yet. If only she could get through to him, tell him what she was feeling. Everything was so jumbled; she couldn’t get it out straight. The careful speech she had rehearsed was gone. Only burning anger and resentment remained. He had dragged her along while he got more and more caught up in himself and his sorrows. How could she express the hate that burned her up? How could she explain the stress and the fear without losing herself in that hate?

He looked at her with those eyes. His gaze would have pinned her to the wall, not too many years ago. Now, she just stared back with every ounce of Aes Sedai cool she could muster.

“You have changed, Ryell. Do you hate me? You’re not the only one, but you’re the first to say it out loud.” He gave her a thin smile. “Why do you think I am mad?”

“You ARE mad, old man, or as near as makes no difference.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. I am still your father.” His voice trailed off. Torias stared into the dark. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to be with your mother. My place is by her side. You never did understand about love, did you? My better half. What am I, without Darise? Nothing, nothing.” He trailed off again.

“Is this going anywhere? I wanted an explanation, I don’t want to you ramble on about your idealised love. Mother was no angel. Just tell me why you treated me so badly, why you never even made an effort to get help or something, so you could move on. I can barely remember the man you were, once, yet I know you weren’t always like this.”

“You don’t understand and you don’t have to. That man died with your mother. The only reason I didn’t follow her into the grave right away was you. Light, but I hated my duty to you. The way you always needed something. You clung to me like a vice. Why couldn’t you just do what you were told? Get settled in, get a life, marry some man so you could stop needing me. Your mother died because she thought she could rally those guards into another attack against the Darkfriends. Folly! She was a woman, it couldn’t be done. And did you learn anything from her? No, of course not. You insisted on playing soldier and that kept me HERE. With you. The whole business shamed you and our House. Now that the Tower has finally taken you off my hands, it’s over. No more. And you’re not getting anything from me. That’s my gift to you for all those years you clung to me. When I’m gone, you’ll never be able to show your face here again.”

Fear gripped her. “What are you talking about? Are you disinheriting me? DON’T YOU DARE! You have no right! I am as much a Jagad as you are. More so!”

“What you think doesn’t matter. I can see I was right. I just told you I’m going to kill myself and all you can think of is your inheritance. My heart is touched, sweet daughter.”

Ryell stared dumbly at him. Kill himself? The thought was so unreal it hadn’t even registered. She had to stop him. Even if she cared nothing for him, he still had a chance to change. He could still be helped. This would solve nothing. If nothing else, it would only show the Blight and its creatures that the Shienarans were becoming unstable.

“This is nonsense, father. You’re just doing this to get attention. Put the sword down and stop being childish.” Ryell snapped, masking her fear with anger and contempt. She was sure she was the only one Torias would listen to. After all, she was the only one who hated him enough to tell him the truth. And the only one who wanted him truly dead. Beside her, an arch shimmered in the air.

“The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.” Her father took up his sword. Ryell turned away and walked into the arch. Father. Behind her, she felt rather than heard the sword slide through boiled leather and flesh. The light seared her bones to ash.

It took longer to gather herself this time. Not until Soraya spoke did she know where she was. The water poured over her head and washed away her tears. Why was she crying for a man she had hated for so long?

"You are washed clean of false pride," Lanfir intoned. "You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul."

Ryell nearly fell when she tried to get up. Why did you love her more than me? Was that all I was to you? A burden? She had to go on.

“The third arch is for what will be. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”

This time, Ryell hesitated before stepping into the light. By now, she was afraid, and willing to admit it to herself. She knew what must lie ahead. As the light burned her life away, she held the names of her loved ones in her heart.

It was a truly Shienaran day. Their small party was making good time, as they should. Ryell felt him coming long before he reached her side. One of the perks of the bond. He wasn’t happy about this; she could feel that too. His feelings were mirrored by her other two Warders. They all felt this journey was a mistake. Ry didn’t blame them. Their objections were her own. But her first concerns were the good of the Tower and the good of the world. Their first concern was her safety. A glance to the rider besides her made her stomach flutter nervously. Reile, her sister, was in the last stage of her pregnancy. She might deliver any day now. This was why the Warders, the four they had between them, had objected so strenuously. Reile had wanted to go herself, and she had managed to convince both Ryell and the Amyrlin. Their mission was this: to quell a Shienaran War of Succession before it began. The Warders hadn’t been convinced that Reile and Ryell had had to go. The sisters had needed to order them into it.

He was by her side now. They had been bonded for more than twenty years. And he was still angry about the order. The one eye he still had stared at her without expression. He’d lost the other one while protecting her during a battle. The rest of him bore more scars, but at the heart of him, he was still the same Shoar she’d fallen in love with years ago. She’d bonded twice more since, but her other Warders were like brothers to her. Shoar only nodded at her then fell back to check with Reile’s Sparhawk. Ryell grinned to herself. It was going to take some doing to make things with him right again. Maybe she could start tonight. During one of her travels she had learned to dance the sar’sara, that would certainly mollify him. She could still make him blush, when she told him she never left home without veils.

When it became dark, they reached a village called Dry Springs. The Warders, by unspoken agreement, all stayed near Reile. Because of her pregnancy, she was unable to channel and thus the most vulnerable. Reile smiled at Ry and touched her arm.

“Is Shoar still angry with you? Sparhawk won’t even talk to me. You do agree with me, don’t you? We need to do this together.”

Ryell squeezed back. “I know. We have to go through with this. The Warders will get over it. Just promise me you won’t deliver in the middle of the negotiations. It would make such a mess on the carpets.”

Reile laughed and tugged her sister along, into the inn. She was actually knitting baby socks, although they looked more like small colourful sacks.

Before they were settled in, the town guards sounded the alarm. Ry knew the sound by heart. The village was being raided. Ryell and two of her Warders ran out of the inn, while Sparhawk stayed behind to protect Reile and Ryell’s third Warder guarded the door.

“Stay there Reile, promise me you’ll stay here. You’ll be safe as long as you don’t go outside. My Warders and I can see to this, really.” Ryell shouted at her sister before running outside.

Ry embraced the Source as she ran. She began channelling as soon as the enemy came into sight. The three of them had done this often. Her two Warders were cutting a path for her, right through the lines of Trollocs advancing on the village. Around her, Shadowspawn died by the sword and the Power. The force of the Fire she used brightened the night. They were holding their own, but only barely. The raiding party had not counted on the presence of an Aes Sedai. But they would be sending for reinforcements, yet so were the villagers. There was a garrison nearby. All that mattered was that Ryell and her warders held them off until the garrison arrived. They were fighting an ugly fight, making their way through the streets. People were running from their houses, there was panic everywhere. The Trollocs were on a killing spree, blood splattered walls and ran in the streets. The townspeople were doing their best to get behind Ryell and her Warders.

“The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.” On the far side of street was a silver arch. It burned with a terrible light, and she knew she must answer that call in her head. But how could she leave? Without her…. No. She would be steadfast. She would not abandon those she loved. The village depended on her. Her Warders and her sister depended on her. But the light from the arch seared her, beckoned her, called her. She had to go back. Back….

Ryell was halfway down the street when her youngest Warder died. He’d given her flowers when she bonded him. It felt like her own death. Shoar was running after her, shouting her name, but she paid him no heed. The pain of her second Warder’s death nearly brought her to her knees. He had had a wife. The Trollocs were at the door of the inn now. The village was lost. Shoar and Sparhawk were making their stand at the inn. Through the window, Ry caught a glimpse of Reile, standing near the fireplace. Be steadfast. Her love, her first Warder, died when she stepped up to the arch. She felt, rather than saw, the swords slide through mail, boiled leather and flesh. Lost, lost. Death is lighter than a feather. Only your own death. Reile’s final scream followed her into the burning light, burning her like the fires of damnation.

A nameless woman faced the dead in an endless black void. They stared past her, unwilling to see her. Surely she had once had a name. Surely the faces of these dead had once meant something to her. She could not say. But when they walked through her, it was so cold…so cold…cold…

She saw the Amyrlin standing there before there with a shawled sister from each ajah. They all looked at her with understanding in their eyes. Lanfir had handed the final silver chalice to the Amyrlin and stepped back. The Amyrlin wwas pouring water over her head. The words swam up to her like fish.

"You are washed clean of Ryell Jagad from Fal Dara in Shienar. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are Ryell Jagad Accepted of the White Tower. You are sealed to us, now." Ry looked up and the Amyrlin placed the Great Serpent ring on the third finger of her left hand. Gravely, the Amyrlin helped her to her feet. "Welcome, Daughter," she said, kissing her cheek. The Amyrlin kissed the other cheek. "Welcome." Ry didn’t feel any joy. It was so hard to feel anything. The price for her Acceptance had been the lives of her family and friends and it was too high. It was too much to ask for her advancement. It didn’t matter if it was real or not. She had made her choices and Light… O Light…What she wanted was forgiveness, but what would that mean if she couldn’t forgive herself.

Lanfir took her arm and lead her to her quarters. The Accepted’s dress they had given her felt odd. She wanted to rip it off. Most of all, she wanted to go home. To lose herself in the familiar routine of her old life. She wanted to sit on the battlements and look at the sun setting over the Blight. She wanted the simple concerns that had burdened her, when she still thought she had honour. Home. Light, if you love me, take me home.

Lanfir left her in her room. Ryell was shaking. Well Shoar, she thought, I finally found something you can’t protect me from. Myself. What have I become? Her thoughts were scrabbling inside her head like mice in a cage. Maybe I’m like my father after all. We’re hard but we’re not strong. Would I make the same choices if I knew it was for real? But the Arches ARE real. They show you your worst fears. I want to go home…. Stop it! Stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop whining. But they’re dead…. She was stuck. Couldn’t go forward and couldn’t go back. Stuck. Lost.

Someone knocked on her door. Moments later the knock was followed by Arianya. When she saw Ryell’s dress, she hurried over to her friend’s side and hugged her. Ari had gained Acceptance before Ry did. She knew how hard the test was. Ryell leaned against her rigidly, unable to speak or cry. Then her eyes fell on what Ari was carrying. Letters. One of them bore her father’s seal. Her heart turned to ice. Please Light, let it be good news. He’s calling me home. He wants to make things right. Please. Ry reached for the letter. Ari said:

“These came for you while you were in Mayene. Just forget about it for now. You’re upset, and I know how your father gets. Why don’t you read it tomorrow? I’m sure it can wait.”

“No. You don’t understand. I need to read it now.” Ry tore the letter out of Ari’s hands. The events from the second Arch played through her mind mixed with her longing for home. She needed to know, now.

“…will no longer have any claim to the Name, titles, lands and incomes thereof belonging to House Jagad….” He disinherited her. She could never go home again. She could not even show her face in Shienar again. The shame would be unbearable. She would be shunned, an outcast. Her father was a respected man; no one knew what he was really like. No one would believe he just got rid of her. Why doesn’t he love me? Anger descended on her like a black cloud, anger she hadn’t been able to express in the second arch. Anger she’d felt her entire life. Ryell embraced Saidar and snatched a weave together. Her desk exploded into fragments.

“How dare he! I’m as much a Jagad as he is! More so! I’LL KILL HIM!” Her anger washed away reason and pain. She lost herself in it. The windowglass shattered into tiny pieces. Suddenly, she felt something push at her link with the Source. Ari was surrounded by the light of Saidar, calmly weaving a shield. Ry fought her with strength born of anger and desperation.

“GET. OUT. Before I lose control,” Ryell shouted.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Stop fighting me, or I might sever you. Please. You need to go the infirmary. You’re very upset, you might hurt yourself or others.” Ari’s voice sounded relaxed and reasonable. But Ry wasn’t reasonable. Her knives lifted from their stand and nailed the letter to the wall. Ari turned on her heel and strode out. Ry dismissed her before she even left. Never underestimate the enemy. Never underestimate your friends, her conscience whispered.

Ryell lost herself in her anger. She didn’t know how long it took, but when she came around, the room was a wreck. Nothing was intact. Her throat was hoarse from shouting. Anger had burned itself out. Now only emptiness remained. Her legs buckled. Her thoughts were wild and without reason. Despair, hurt, loneliness, fear, self-hate all followed each other with chilling speed. She couldn’t focus on anything. Light moved across the floor. Ry noticed she was clutching her sword. The pain in her hands gave her something to cling to. Focus on the pain. Blood dripped to the floor.

One memory stayed in her head.

Yuri was holding her by her shoulders. The cold stone walls of the courtyard cared nothing for her father’s anguished screams. The cart bearing her mother’s body was still where it had been left hours ago. Yuri’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “Surely this is our season of sorrows” he murmured.

Surely this must be her season of sorrows. The shadows lengthened.

Ryell Jagad

Screwed up Accepted.

Bloodsister to Reile Tarkene

Mentored by Lanfir Sedai

Promised to Shoar Daemor

Annnnd there you have it. Incredibly long, I know, but she was a damn good writer. *g*

I have a ton of other old posts like this from various RP's if people are interested, I just thought I'd bring some Nostalgia for our older members and an interesting read for the newer ones! :)

You can whack me down on the mentor lists, I'll read up on how much has changed since I last did it. :)

Hmmm... Where do I start my RPing... James! Gimme some ideas. :P