Arath - since Lillian has volunteered first first feel free to use her as you like for advancing the class and I will write her as you NPC'd. Keep in mind Lillian's very weak in the power so she'd have just enough juice to muster up for linking/initiating. As a member of the white ajah she's very methodical and logical minded, so even having to try a few times can't fluster her. :)

Well, well. I have been out of the tower for some time, it seems. Putting Portia’s absence out of her mind, Saline gave a small smile tinged with wistfulness. So the Storm Leader decided to begin with talk of bonding. Choosing the Red Ajah, she never wanted a Warder to protect her. She wanted to rely on her own strength instead to protect others, so they could achieve their bright dreams and futures. From the time she was accepted into the Tower, there had been only one person she had joked about bonding. It was a bitter joke though, since the chances of Rory and Saline getting together had been practically non-existent. Rory had been a terrifying girl with bright hair. Meeting her was the best thing in Saline’s life. And . . . because she met Rory, she wanted to protect her with her own hands. She had thrown herself into training, knowing she could become strong through friendship and love, but how strong could even Aes Sedai be? Saline knew many were far ahead of her. That was, at least, a level that humans could attain.

Still, the idea of bonding was fascinating. The very possibility of a bond between two power users excited her. Even if it was between Asha’man and sisters, it opened up possible futures nobody could have foreseen happening a year ago. And to her dearest Rory Baker, whom she loved more than anything in this world, what would Rory think about two aes sedai bonding?

Saline sighed. The world was not ready for that.

In any case, Saline knew from past experience strength was not everything. There were peoples in her life without anything to do with saidin or saidar, and those people possessed the strength to surmount all barriers because of who they were.

Such a person was Lillian Tremina. Despite being one of the weakest, Lillian had Saline’s respect ever since that chore with the catapult when Saline was a novice. Under orders, Saline had flung a laughing Lillian through the air. The determination and courage had shone from Lillian so brightly that Saline had to look away.

Somehow, when Lillian volunteered to go first, Saline wasn’t very surprised.

-----

What does it mean to be strong?

Lillian asked herself.

As an aes sedai of the white tower, Lillian Tremina asked herself.

To be strong means never losing to anybody. In other words, it means to be absolutely the strongest.

Doubt arose in Lillian’s mind.

If that was the case, then . . . does such a thing as the strongest exist?

She searched through her memories for the existence of the strongest. Different sorts of strong people surfaced in her mind. The numerous people she encountered through her years, the valiant people she knew from books . . . They were strong people, but they had been far from the strongest. Even the best of men and women suffered failures. Half of those people reached the very end of their lives through that historical journey of failures, and became stronger for it. The failures matured most of them, as they learnt. But, if one goes through a series of failures in order to become stronger, then she clearly had not been the strongest. Were other creatures instead of humans that would be considered the strongest, since they survived longer?

If that were the case, what does it mean for them to be the strongest?

If she kept on following this line of thought, then the pattern itself was probably strongest. Should the pattern change, all the creatures on the world’s stage must adapt with it. In fact, there had been a huge change in the world recorded in the distant past, in an age before Lillian’s birth. Threads in the pattern dictate length of lives, as well as the encounters spun.

Could the pattern be the strongest force in this world?

That was somehow doubtful as well. There were humans in the past who could influence very weaves of the pattern itself. And people still survive and make choices in this world, despite the pattern’s changed self. We could create our own worlds and patterns, even isolated, in our own minds. Wasn’t that proof of being the strongest?

I am thinking too much.

Lillian abandoned her thoughts to watch the young man before her.

Here is a man who had to defeat the taint every time he touched Saidin.

Arath Faringal.

The newest teacher of aes sedai. His tongue belied his native Andoran origin, his face the smooth visage of a 20 year old. Lillian wouldn’t put it past him to need to shave only once every three days.

And Arath was the primary representative from the black tower. He belonged to a group that had enslaved the last faction of aes sedai who visited them at the farm under (her mentor’s mentor) Sirayn’s orders.

To Lillian, Sirayn was the closest to what could be the strongest (despite being weak in the one power like Lillian), but . . .

Even the Amyrlin Seat experienced defeat at the hands of Storm Leaders such as Arath.

It was very good to know that men could not link on their own without women, even though the knowledge must have come from somewhere, probably from aes sedai failures. Pushing that thought away for now, Lillian thought hard about how to work the strength of their current group.

After station, strength then age was how the aes sedai hierarchy operated. Since Lillian failed to espy any members of the Hall, she scanned the faces and noticed a plump face barely ten years older than Arath’s.

And already an Aes Sedai. Esther Tremaine, as Lillian later found out her name was, must have been quite strong in the Source to be raised at such an age.

And that left Lillian. Her skill with saidar built up over years of failure and experimentation. And with skill she could reach maybe one-half of what most aes sedai were capable of. Even now, she could read the gap between her and others. Lillian wondered if Arath could feel the higher strength of others surrounding her, and although nobody pushed for her to volunteer for the initial linking, tradition ran strong particularly in the face of change. She sensed the awkwardness, and had an idea how to break it.

But that would require strength from Lillian: the strength not to falter.

Saidin. Just thinking about that made her stomach hurt. She had experienced the taint only once, and briefly. It was a small experiment, but the effects of Saidin were enough to anybody run away very, very fast.

“We are the rarest of the rare. Human but not entirely human; off the beaten path. Even if we pass on this knowledge, it’d only be very little.” The man who linked momentarily with Lillian had said that when Lillian was slowly recovering from the oily taste of saidin. He had known his knowledge in the area was not an easy thing for Lillian to obtain. Although it sounded presumptuous, it was also true: “You’ve reached a fraction of my control, but it isn’t possible for you to get any better at it. It is better for you to use saidar when you’re in a crisis.”

Lillian had not felt disappointment back then. She understood and accepted the words. And this reality had not changed. She felt best when she held saidar and the coursing of the elements through her veins, not the taint.

Why was there a difference now?

How could Arath pass on his skill to all the aes sedai here when he was unable to explain his own rare ability to channel saidin? While nobody was born with an innate understanding of channeling, there were things beyond teaching, instincts that only the black tower men could make real. Just as Lillian was born with a weaker ability to draw in saidar, however many years longer she worked with the source than say, the newly raised Grey.

Against this type of situation, Lillian had no idea how to show her sisters Arath’s helplessness at teaching them. While they needed better training in the basics of saidin, and sure, on a basic level one could become stronger, but there was a level to how strongly the women could suppress the tainted flows.

Still, Lillian had to do something.

Stepping forward to feel the taint again took strength, a different kind from channeling ability.

At the edge of her vision, Lillian glimpsed some of her sisters wrap their shawls tighter around their bodies, despite the bright sun shooting into the courtyard.

The pain in her stomach hadn’t subsided, and she could also feel pressure from her chest. There was a certain dissatisfaction mixed up with the pain in Lillian’s stomach, despite the gentle smile she bore. It was so tiring to bear the brunt of duty face on, stepping toward Arath had reminded Lillian of her arches and even though she had not faltered, her best friend Taei Mirel had died in the same test which she took because of Lillian’s encouragement.

Lillian regulated her breathing through the Spring technique and maintained her smile. Tenseness would not help her. She needed a clear and calm mind, as always, through regulation of her body. The drumming of the heart had to overcome her fear.

Lillian wasn’t afraid of Arath getting mad. What mattered was finding out about things.

“Aaaaah. You said that twenty six women can join up if there is a single man. But, does it work the other way around? If a woman links with a man, how many men could join the circle?” As she asked those questions she assessed Arath’s situation along with hers “Also, will linking with me affect your bond partner at all? Sorry, but I know nothing about that area.” The identity of whom, Lillian aimed to investigate as soon as class ends. And when she does find out, she would realize her initial judgment was off the track. It was no longer a matter of what the reds were playing at, but the fact of the matter was, what her sisters were doing regardless of Ajah. Funny how it would take the threat of the black tower’s “co-operation” to transgress the divisions of Ajahs and unite the white.

Or would they tear us apart in recklessness, and leave us to drown asunder?

Those were the musings of Lillian Tremina, aes sedai of the white tower, as she contemplated the limits of strength and protection by the strong. She could have no confidence in learning deep theories unless she found answers to the knowledge which had been marginalized by tradition and fear.

Lillian Tremina

aes sedai of the white tower

Rydia has finished her reqs for arrival and OP class. Still would love to do novice life or a choice RP with somebody else. Please? :P Otherwise I suppose I could solo it.

Saline's only RP is in Saidin 101 class thread. I'm not sure as to the timeline as Asha'man don't retro . . . Current?

"Portia! Portia!" Saline grinned at the other Taraboner's back. "Wait up."

Her grin widened when, rather than acknowledging her presence, Portia walked faster, her crimson shawl swaying as she drew distance between them.

"So mean!" Saline caught up, and pursued mercilessly as Portia Larisen ducked into a room.

Without preamble, Saline said "Sweet lands, you sure can walk! So yes, picking up from where we left off on our previous discussion I have a passing familiarity with earth techniques, I can help identify some differences between those of men and women." Saline was quite talented in that category and both knew it. Then, smilingly "you and I both know what happened with the Asha'man from the garden and our Red Sisters. So we can either accept this and move on or be caught with our shifts down. Besides, I know people of every description and privilege and their lack therefore. It will take more than a boy to scare me. Even if the boy has power, I have a secret weapon. Now if you will excuse me, I have said all I wanted to say. Looking forward to see you in class, Portia."

But when the class came, Portia was a no-show. It was still early though. Thought Saline as she adjusted her shoulder and what was strapped to her back, her secret weapon: her scimitar. What? She totally did it for giggles. There should be at least thirteen women to one boy, as class ratios go. Flashing one of her sunshine smiles at their teacher, Saline once again scanned the other students for Portia.

Finally! Something she could answer. "I am Rydia Burgess of Bethal, Ghealdan. I turned 15 last spring."

She had thought more testing would be in order but Valeri Sedai seemed to trust what Rydia said. Besides, everybody knew you should never lie to an aes sedai. As if Rydia would lie to anybody, anyway. Her father brought up a daughter up-holding the forthright honesty of the Burgesses, thank you very much.

After carefully marking Rydia down in what she would later find out was called the novice books, the aes sedai gave her a set of very soft clothing, and then a token for the seamstresses. Rydia examined the wooden carving. She could barely make out the embossed V, so elaborate was the design. Rydia had learnt how to sew of course but it was only in stringing together furs, nothing so skilled as to produce fancy slippers and shifts. The only complaint Rydia would have was the colour which was rather dull. But since white identified her as a novice she would wear it proudly.

The aes sedai pulled at a silvery bell and a young waif in all white, bobbing her head and sinking down into a deep curtsy to reflect her respect. The girl was then instructed to take Rydia to a novice room. Rydia was very glad to have such a guide. From the looks of the white tower it would be ridiculously easy to get lost in. She suddenly had a winding image of herself as an old woman, wandering about the window-dotted halls forever.

Picking up her pace, the newest novice to the tower introduced herself: "Hi, I'm Rydia. Please look after me!"

So it seems like this place, or at least Valeri Sedai, encouraged questioning. The aes sedai was smiling, but who knew how she would react if Rydia were to admit she had nothing to ask? Rydia was one of those people that took the turnings of the wheel as they came, and spent very little time on thinking about her life, when she could be doing better stuff, such as keeping warm or sleeping. She felt tired in the warmth of the room. She needed something stimulating. As though the aes sedai had read Rydia's mind, Valeri Sedai began to steep some tea. Rydia relaxed more as, after a moment, a wonderful smell wafted toward her, reminding her of white lilies at night.

"Thanks for the tea" Rydia said, leaning over to grab the cup. She would be an idiot to turn it down. If there was one thing Rydia knew, you did not want to anger the sisters, particularly when they are offering stuff, that might come back . . .

Taking a sip of tea to stall for a little time to think, Rydia felt a little better. She did not recognise the tea but it tasted even better than its fragrant smell. The tea woke her up, but was still not conducive to thinking and asking questions. Sure, it was strange that the aes sedai should choose Rydia of all people to take to the tower but, the aes sedai were a very well respected folk where Rydia lived and her father had no complaints if his daughter was going to become more than a trapper, even if that was not what neither of he nor his daughter had envisioned.

She and the aes sedai looked at each other and, then, laying aside the tea Rydia replied sheepishly, "sorry, I haven't thought of any."

Sitting down took a fair bit of courage, although once perched on its cushion, Rydia found that the chair she had been commanded to occupy was more than comfortable. Luxuries from mixing with high society, and living the high life, no doubt. It was strange being in a building, after setting up camp every day for the last month. The aes sedai who travelled with Rydia was certainly elegant. She required that Rydia followed her at a discreet distance, and then whenever the aes sedai gestured, Rydia would hand her stuff, like quills or a hat. But it was hardly as though Rydia came along just to carry items and make tea for the aes sedai. She folded her hands primly over her lap and spoke clearly, "I was brought here, Valeri Sedai. An aes sedai tested me in Bethal, my hometown, and found me capable of learning how to channel."

Despite its proper enunciation, Rydia's tone was strained. Then again, who wouldn't be nervous at being surrounded by the most powerful women in the world? And what choice would she have but to submit, as she had back in Ghealdan? She hesitated, before adding, "I was informed that I would be expected, aes sedai."

Rydia swallowed hard. Was that too forward of her? Maybe she should have just stuck with answering what she'd been asked.

. . . Nobody?

I am crestfallen!

Post up.

Ooc: Rydia's new arrival thread, as we agreed on. I see no reason not to use the first post 'cept to modify it a bit so here it is. Thanks.

All around, in an endless fierce glitter, were countless image. She stood there, blinking at the sudden brightness. Her vision steadied, and Rydia began to sort out what she could see. They were in a high vaulted hall; its white walls were hung with rich tapestries and brilliant paintings. She looked back. There, across the hall, were the immense carved doors which had slammed behind them (with a long creak and a deep-echoing crash) when first they entered, side by side.

Here and there were groups and pairs of people walking; they lifted their heads, now and then, to acknowledge the aes sedai’s presence beside her. The sunlit hallway seemed to go on forever and ever, and they were studded with more windows than anything Rydia had yet to see. At length they rounded the bend, and came to a stairwell.

The aes sedai stood at the bottom of the steps, a neat dark figure, her face upturned and inscrutable. “Ah, here we are.”

She glanced at the aes sedai, and then ahead. The narrowing stone staircase rose to a square pillared doorway ornamented with carved scrolls and figures.

The aes sedai said, as Rydia climbed the folding steps, “it is the office of the Mistress of Novices. Valeri Sedai, she is called. Go inside, child . . . she has been expecting you.” The last words wafted up faintly, “we will meet again, if it pleases the light.”

Rydia was shaken, alarmed. But the aes sedai had already walked away, not waiting to see whether or not her words had any impact.

The door stood slightly ajar. Nothing but darkness was visible from within. Rydia stained to see more clearly, hardly daring to breathe. The door opened before her a little more, but the light that shone within reflected nothing but its own brilliance, like the gleaming empty page in a huge book.

Taking a deep breath, Rydia pushed in without the aes sedai and spun around, making sure to close the door swiftly behind her so it didn’t slam shut. Nevertheless, she had disturbed the expectant one called Valeri Sedai, or so she assumed was the woman sitting on the other side of a desk which, like everything else in this tower so far, looked very nice.

The trapper’s daughter said uncertainly, “So sorry for this intrusion, but I have come to learn how to be an aes sedai.”

Despite the clear request in her words, she backed off a little way; her face looked pinched and ill. But there was no turning back now that she was seen.

Although Lillian had taken many classes throughout her seventy-eight years, nothing felt familiar to her going into this class. Faces were tense, despite their seemingly unperturbed agelessness. Moreover, a male channeller had become their teacher. It was going to be a class unlike any others. And ever since she found out about its existence through the First Reasoner, Lillian Tremina was all for it.

Over the centuries, tower classes changed very little. For her students, Lillian had archived volumes of personal notes she had taken half a century ago, neatly bound and tucked away in an abandoned wing. Even so, each Ajah always claimed to be different from the others, to have a more hands on approach to the world and competing enticements to try and lure people to their Ajah. Like the others, the White Ajah offered participation in this class, taking them out into Tar Valon itself. The only Ajah not to take them outside of the classroom was the Red Ajah, but given their task it wasn't much of a surprise to Lillian. She had yet to meet a novice or accepted who actually 'wanted' to encounter a male channeller. Even the Aes Sedai who did the task seemed for the most part . . . unenthusiastic, and rightly so. It was a necessary task, as opposed to a work one could fall in love with.

Lillian's personal history with male channellers produced a strangely ambivalent feeling toward her Asha'man teacher. Lillian and her fellow tower initiate Elyna's abduction by a dreadlord named Talin Losey had culminated in their rescue and subsequent release by a rival dreadlord whom they never learnt the name of, only noted for his distinctive black robe with golden symbols worked in. After Lillian's return, she had seriously begun to question the tower's traditions. Her thesis on the tower as an accepted grew from a way to determine her Ajah to a critique upon the tower from its practices and culture and things that needed to change. Even though Lillian chose the White Ajah, she declared her friendship to all sisters in her raising ceremony. Despite being one of the weakest sisters of the tower, she wanted to show that all sisters in the tower should be sisters regardless of Ajah and to do her best not only for the tower, but for the people of the Westlands even as the final battle approached.

Meanwhile the current day saw Lillian eager to put her research thesis into practice, even though this class came as a surprise.

Lillian Tremina

Aes Sedai of the White Tower

Ooc: Lillian is young (for a sister), 5'6'', copper skinned, She has a soft face adorned with deep emerald eyes and a petite nose while her jet black hair is worn in a variety of styles. Her hands are callused from swordwork and her fingertips from stringed instruments she plays.

I don't think my recruit has ever had taken a saidin class. Count me in! :)

Lillian Tremina might go.

Cool. Rydia's in! Don't care what she does. So long as she's in :D

The most fascinating thing about ‘their’ room was how hot it was, like the inside of kiln, only smaller (as if that were possible). All four sides of the room were identical, both beds were identical; the ceiling was uniform as were the walls, and since there was nothing else in the room except a lamp on a small wooden table, and some drawers (also the same) there was nothing else to compare.

Rydia had noticed, however, several differences between the occupants of the beds, herself and the girl named Tilly. She enjoyed conversation; Tilly did not. She found the warmness of Tar Valon quite enjoyable; Tilly did not. Where Rydia was content to bathe in the warmth of her blankets and the leisure of not having to tend a night fire, Tilly was shifting and wheezing and rolling almost constantly. Tilly was a cat against a scratching pole without any cuteness; she was a cat scratching prized furniture.

It was getting annoying.

Seriously.

Rydia was patient. Trapping was all about patience . . . and being able to wander off and leave your devices to fulfill the role you knew they would fulfill. This? This had Patience right over there, but was torture, like luring a wolf with a bleating goat, while holding the goat up to your ears. With its hooves in your eyes.

Scritch. Scritch. Shuffle. Ruffle. Murmur. Wumphf.

Rydia lay there a time, counting scritchs, anticipating the wumphs and shuffles, picturing murder. This was less than ideal. There was no name for how less than ideal this was because no one had ever experienced it before. There was a pillow under her head, and she was becoming more and more aware how easy it would be to smother Tilly. And how fast.

And how satisfying.

At last she sat up, exasperated, gripping her blankets and willing them to be Tilly’s hair.

“Tilly?” she asked.

“yes?” came Tilly’s reply, in her voice so small it doesn’t require capitals.

“Are you quite all right?”

“umm . . . yes.”

“Great. Now without the lie?”

“can’t sleep.”

“A lot of that going around.”

“Any particular reason?”

“ummm”

“Oh please, please put me out of my misery; I am dying to know.”

Tilly rolled over in her bed to face her, Rydia was painfully aware of this.

“it’s the scars” she whispered conspiratorially, Rydia thought. It was hard to distinguish.

Tilly was shy, not stupid; this could become an issue. A little honesty now might save deterioration. Or worse. Rydia’s tone was testy. They weren’t friends, not yet, but Rydia was the only girl she knew and a measure of environmental bonding was taking place. Make no error, need not fix.

Tilly sighed, “I got sick when I was younger; it left scars. the heat, the dry, they make me itch. I itch so bad.” Bad would have been followed by an exclamation point from any other speaker.

“This can’t be the first time you’ve encountered this . . .” Rydia put her annoyance aside to hint subtly.

“no, it’s not. it isn’t. but they took everything away.” And although from the sentence you probably cannot imagine an emotional inflection, it was now Tilly began to cry. She didn’t sound that different, but against the safety of her pillow her face was all scrunched up and there were tears in her eyes.

This left Rydia to fill the gaps, and because she was a sensible girl it was not so difficult. Tilly’s body was causing itself more irritation than it was causing her, and whatever ointment or treatment Tilly had was gone along with everything else she’d brought with her. This probably would not have happened had Tilly spoken up, but Rydia was beginning to understand that’s not how Tilly operated.

“All right, I have an idea” Rydia said. “I’m going to come over there and give you a jolly good scratch. I know a lot about naked skin . . . but admittedly I’ve normally removed it first.”

"umm . . . could we not?”

“Sure. There is also the scenario where I beat you to death with my slippers.”

“your bed or mine?”

“Yours will be fine. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

Hi. Who'd like to RP with my novice Rydia on either? I'm open to all sorts of things :)

Did this ever get started? If not rather than using Saline or Lillian I'd like to put in my novice Rydia somewhere in there. Maybe to assist with stuff!

Wrong here too. Rydia isn't done on arrival thread yet. Although she's currently finished with OP in the last five mins :D

The tower life progressed in rapid fashion. It was as though Tar Valon was located in a time bubble of its own. In any case, today, Rydia was able to see glows enveloping the other girls as they channeled. Hard to believe, though, that four days ago she could not even tell you how many elements were, and now she could not only see the differently coloured elements but also control their flows, albeit very sporadic and imperfectly. Despite being able to maintain a steady hold on Saidar itself, when it came to splitting her threads Rydia was hopeless and would often grasp too much, not enough, or not being able to grab the correct element at all. It was difficult to separate elements, but even more challenging to twist them together.

Although Rydia expected earth to be hard, maybe it was because it was the first exercise of the day when she still had loads of energy but the roses were beautiful to help bloom and went rather smoothly. The yellow roses reminded Rydia of the yellow colour of the Air element, although Rydia wished they could have had in the gardens on the Tower grounds. She had heard of Aes Sedai having private gardens too. How cultivated, Rydia smiled. She should have expected such dazzling feats from the Aes Sedai. It was so unlike the blights that she was used to seeing. The diseased and withered, the deformed but hardy vegetation growing in the freezing tundra. They might have been hardy but were hardly healthy.

Fire was more difficult to summon. After several tries, she had succeeded in grasping the weave but the red strand left as quickly as she began to direct it. The weave dissipated and that was the end of Rydia's candle.

Spirit, however, was creepy.

The voices came out of nowhere. Alarmed, Rydia started to back away. Then she grimaced at the white shield that cut off the sounds. It was mind blowing. She needed to rethink a few basic principles about how the world worked.

Or was it just another unique aspect to Tar Valon after all?

Rydia was terribly tired. Her novice whites were crinkled and stained. And she had to squint at the front of the room, since she was running late that morning and had to shuffle into the empty seat closest to the door at the last possible minute before class started. Otherwise Rydia would have earnt herself an upbraiding and possibly a demerit from Pia Sedai.

Well, it could be worse, or so she thought as she tried to pick out what Amadine was demonstrating. But the elemental flows emanating from the Accepted looked all wrong to Rydia. They were different tinges of colour. Fire was red, blue was Water, Yellow was Air, Spirit was white, and Earth was green instead. Rydia had a very easy time identifying Water, even though hers did not show as green. But she had scribed exactly what she saw anyway on the thin parchment they had been allotted. You do not get to have the thick parchments that are bound together until you progress into more advanced levels, although you still get the same number of quills. Rydia could live with that arrangement. She did not regard her intro lesson notes as worth keeping for purposes beyond revision anyway.

It was fascinating, however, to see the flows from Amadine’s body as the power coursed through her. It was the act of channeling. But whenever Rydia touched Saidar it always seemed to surround her, not flow from within her. She wondered how she looked to the other students. Some of the novices claimed they had seen glows around each other, but that glow of power too, eluded Rydia.

As did the two weaves of drawing and drying that they were taught. Utterly, utterly defeated, Rydia marched back once dismissed from the lecture feeling no better than she was earlier.

Although, she was considerably more repentant.

“Alright, Tilly?” Rydia knocked before entering their room.

“Alright,” came the soft reply from.

“Sorry about earlier,” said Rydia as she flopped into her bed, slippers on and everything “I behaved like an idiot. I’m just having problems coping with my classes.”

“Classes? You only have one every day.”

“Yeah but you know, the scholastic lifestyle, the lectures, homework.”

Tilly absorbed it slowly “the scholastic lifestyle, eh? Why not.”

Rydia heard a soft wheezing noise she had never heard before coming from the corner of the room where Tilly sat. At first Rydia thought an animal had gotten in. Then she saw the curl of her roommate’s back toward her, and took in the sight of Tilly’s shoulders shaking. Alarmed, to say the least, Rydia rushed toward Tilly and saw the strangest expression on her reticent roommate’s face.

Rydia blushed. “. . . That’s the first time I ever heard you laugh.”

"Well, well," Rydia smiled blithely and selected the first name from the list they had been assigned to write on "what have we got here? Hullo, Ana Irigaray! What happened to you?"

Cheerfully laying aside the other books for later, the trapper's daughter methodically filed through the archives for whatever research she expected to take a multitudes of notes on Ms. Irigaray. However, what she had garnered was very little. The big Novice Book which she somehow mustered the courage to ask Pia Sedai showed that, upon Irigaray's entry to the Tower, she had identified herself as Ghealdean. A fellow co-patriate, ooooh! I wonder if Irigaray, too, had found the warmth in Tar Valon very satisfying. Rydia certainly enjoyed being able to sleep in more than at home, when she would have to wake up periodically to keep the coal hot. The roommate log told Rydia that Irigaray had been assigned to paired up with a Saldaean who later became a Sitter in the Hall for the Blues. There were loads of historical references on what Irigaray's roommate had done. But once Rydia sifted through the backlogs there was only the sketchiest of information about Irigaray. Finally, there was the account of Irigaray's roommate finding Irigaray unconscious in their room. Regrettably, when Irigaray woke in the infirmary her ability to channel was gone. Having no reason to stay in the Tower, Irigaray was sent away by the Aes Sedai, and the Blues Eyes and Ears who had kept tabs on all the women who left the Tower reported that she had taken her life five years later, despite her seemingly happy marriage, leaving behind a bereft husband and son.

Her roommate Tilly, who hailed from a seamstress background, would have said something about not enough material to make a dress, but Rydia did not see her lack of information as a failure. Rather, it accentuates how abrupt the ending of Ana Irigaray's career as an initiate in the Tower had been. It was more a thread that had been snipped short ahead of its frays. Or a trap that had sprung on nothing, but in the process was bent beyond repair.

Leaving aside the essay for now, Rydia reflected how she felt during her lesson with Amadine earlier.

It would be very easy for her to give in to the temptation of opening up to Saidar, or so it seemed to Rydia when she and the other novices had practiced pulling more and more of the Source around them into their bodies. There was a sense of comfort Rydia loved about the serenity of floating on warm water, being carried away to wherever the tide took her. And it had been so hot she could not breathe for the bliss.

But then the dark clouds settled in. It was incredibly painful to experience. The rain broke up the currents, interrupted their flow. It had blocked the sun, and the water upon which she floated began to become turbulent. It started pushing her about as she resisted, and struggled to stay afloat, to be on the surface and near the sun. Even as Rydia was pushing Saidar back she yearned for the intensity of the heat that had warmed her before. It was vexing to deny herself the pleasure, of that release against the tensions around her. But that struggle for control had to be giving up her pleasure right? Was it for her own good or for the Aes Sedai's convenience? Couldn't it be both?

Flinching from the memory of that exercise, of purposefully cutting herself off from Saidar, she agreed with her instructor Amadine that, for now, the situation would not become pathological unless Rydia's longing for Saidar passed beyond the point of reason and she defied the Aes Sedai will. Although Rydia was fond of her house, she did not want to be kicked out of the tower until she learnt control. A little more time, and warmth, would not hurt. Would it?

In the meantime it was almost time for lights out and Rydia had no intention of being caught by the Mistress of Novices in the corridors after hours. She sighed. Tomorrow there would be more homework. Hopefully it wouldn't put such a damper on her mood again.

Just realised I never started this thread

• Novice Quiz - [Complete]

• Arrival: Meet MoN - Rydia in Tar Valon - [ 4 / 4 ] [Complete]

• Novice Life - URL - [ - / 4 ] [incomplete]

• One OP Related RP - URL - [ 4 / 4 ] [Complete]
  * Class 1: - Lesson 1 - [ 1 / 1 ] [Complete]
  * Class 2: - Lesson 2 - [ 1 / 1 ] [Complete]
  * Class 3: - Lesson 3 - [ 1 / 1 ] [Complete]
  * Class 4: - Lesson 4 - [ 1 / 1 ] [Complete]

• Choice RP:
  * [Name of Req] - Ordinary Chore - Word Count / [ 4 / 4 ] [Complete]
  

• Three Arches - URL - Word Count - [incomplete]

Handle: minisamus

Character: Rydia Burgess

Rank: Novice

Last RPed: 28 July 2010

Will be catching up to all the lessons I missed while gone intermittently :)

Also would appreciate highly if Rydia's intro to the WT via MoN is finished!