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It had taken her a long time to come to grips that she was not going to be spending only a few years training in the White Tower, but was indeed stuck here for much, much longer. Though her father seemed to be happy to no longer have to mail her a small sum for spending nor donate anything for further education. In fact he seemed rather pleased that she was to become Aes Sedai. All the proper ladies of Andor could only dream of becoming Aes Sedai, though the timeline for prestige was much longer than a marriageable age. She had to roll her eyes on that point in her mother's letter
There was not a single black thread in all of Tar Valon. It would not be found on a seamstress' thread rack in a housewife's basket. Aes Sedai did not wear black at all, and that tradition carried into the grand city itself. No one wore a lick of the color, not in lace nor cord nor thread. Yet, Tar Valon had men dressed in black coats not only in the city itself, but the White Tower. Well, their uniform was black, but they certainly weren't wearing it now. But it didn't change the fact that it was their uniform, marking them. Oh, they had not walked through the city, no, but remembering it ma
Viviane fidgeted in her seat. Today she was to learn what it meant to be Red Ajah. Jagen Sedai had not yet arrived to the classroom, so Viviane had little reserve in exhibiting her anxiousness. She’d have to bottle it up soon enough. Right when those doors swung open, the mock Aes Sedai serenity would slide over Viv’s face, as best as she could manage. The Reds made her nervous. They made every girl nervous… Well, not every girl. There were certainly a few Novices and Accepted that Viviane had encountered, girls that aspired to be Red above all else. People often sa