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  1. .. To Breathe on the Embers of Light .. ►▼◄ Elessar Telcontar, Borderlander-bred, unbonded Warder of Kandor and veteran Gaidin of many years, was forever lost in the Dance. A soft western breeze blew through the Warders Yard that morning as the Borderlander went through the sword forms. In the calmness of the Flame and the Void, the Gaidin felt detached from the world around him as he moved with experience and assurance. The sword was a part of him as he leapt to strike, bent to defend, went high and then low, moving from one form into another, slicing through the air with his blade and moving with agility and swift footwork to get his imaginary opponent off balance. ● The morning sky was sapphire-blue with only a few patches of clouds making an intermittent appearance in the horizon. A large bird of prey floated on the winds far above, gazing down at the Aes Sedai island-city of Tar Valon in all its splendour there by the River Erinin. As it headed ever south-eastwards on its long flight it focused its vision, for a moment, on the grand White Tower and the Warders Yard far below and on the figure of a Borderlander man and warrior there pushing himself through the motions in his deadly dance. Stopping for a moment, Elessar caught his breath. To keep the edge one had to train again and again and again. No matter one’s experience or skill - and his was excellent. But there was always something which could be bettered. Always something to perfect. To gain that extra skill, that small but vital edge, which might be the difference between life and death in a given danger situation. That had been his way ever since that time long ago in his youth - what almost felt like another lifetime ago - when he had decided that what he wanted for his life was to become a Warder of the White Tower. He had worked hard at excelling at everything he did ever since. ● He was a man six foot three tall with a northern complexion, short dark hair and hard dark eyes. He had a strong build (a result of hard physical training over many years) and also some battle-scars, most prominent was one across his abdomen. In fury over the death of his mother and his inability to prevent it many years before, he had shaved off his forked beard (so common in Kandori men) long ago and had never re-grown it. And I never will, he thought to himself intently as he prepared himself for another spell. Breathe on the Embers of Light, Elessar. The words of his old Warder teacher echoed in his mind as he attained guard stance. Be One with your Sword. Feed all your Light into the Void. Unfolding the Fan, the smooth opening move, which flowed into Low Wind Rising, a diagonal slash which began low and rose cleanly, followed by The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain, a vertical slash starting high and which in this case altered course in midswing, paired with Tower of Morning, a verticle slash but this time beginning low and ending high. Combining forms in both traditional but also often innovative ways, using all his extensive experience and proficient skill, he flowed in the movements of his dance, almost as if he were outside of time. ▀▄
  2. Name: Josanda Avriny Age: 48 Place of birth: Murandy Physical Description: Wild, curly brown hair and eyes of blue and green; she is short, though not as short as a Cairhien, and holds similar energy to as a Novice when it comes to gathering knowledge and information. There is often ink stains on her hands and a leather book bound and carried wither he satchels. Personality: She carries the youth of her age, newly raised to the Brown Ajah, Josanda wants nothing more than to explore the world and learn of all the things within it. Notes and letters in horrible handwriting, she returns to the White Tower frequently to update the current state of affairs and information long overdue of updating. From shifting rivers, people of power, and Eyes and Ears of rumors that spread in different area's, it's a wonder she has not yet been caught in the grasp of the White Cloaks. Character History: Youngest Daughter of a horse farmer, nobility and education a long distant whisper never to be part of her world. Mud and hay and handmade paints; Josanda loved her simple life knowing little to nothing more. How could she? Life passed by with simplicity until one fateful night a woman and her companion came to her little family farm because of a lame horse. A woman from the White Tower, dressed in fancy clothes and a book with scribbles and stories of a world beyond. It brought a thirst for the world. It was her first taste of what life could be, along with the promise of training as she, too, could one day become Aes Sedai. rising in the ranks Josanda's learning curve within the White Tower was stark, but her thirst to learn long outweighed the challenges of being of age to join the White Tower and no knowledge of how to read, write, or most basic skills outside of a kitchen or barn. As no chore felt like a punishment, she charmed and challenged her teachers and as the written word opened a whole world to her, it was difficult to slow her down. three arches At 26 Josanda entered the Arches. She was tested on her Intentions, Knowledge, and the temptations of Power. testing her mental Josanda's desire to know things and gain access to things caught the interest of many Ajah's. Stepping in, the Blue Ajah tried to teach her Tact and tested her mind for puzzles. The White, Impartiality. The Gray, her mind for politics and balance. The Browns just fed her more, and in the end, won her heart and desire to just know more. She stayed in the Accepted bands until she was 33. aes sedai-hood While there is still a childishness in Josanda, the White Tower felt no the teachings of their ranks did little to hinder her light and heart for knowledge and only time and experience could teach her what a lesson in the classrooms could not. Swiftly choosing Brown, it took effort for the Ajah to keep her from running off into the world without further training within the Ajah essential for survival but also secrets only known to the Brown Ajah. Two years she learned under the Ajah before embarking on her first travels back to Murandy. An assigned guardsman from the Warder Yard as she had not yet felt ready to take on a Warder, and for 15 years she has traveled and returned, still maintaining an exuberance for knowledge as she had before entering the White Tower. Character Reputation: TBD Motivations: To Learn and Record Weaknesses: Learning the Hard Way One Power 31 (19) Elemental Ranking: strongest to weakest Air Fire Spirit Earth Water
  3. Grey adjusted his sword belt nervously. The clothes he wore were clean and functional, but they were not pristine. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was just going to be another day of training. Today was going to be different though. A few of the Aes Sedai were planning to investigate different things going on in the city. As Aes Sedai they were more than capable of handling themselves in almost every situation. In some cases muscle was needed though. He ran a hand through his blonde hair. It had the wavy, casual length of youth. He was not tied to any Aes Sedai himself. He was not even an “official” tower guard yet. He was still in the training phase of his career. That might change one day though. He was open to the possibility. They had asked for volunteers to accompany the Aes Sedai though and when he had volunteered his trainers thought he had become at least competent enough to not hurt himself. He had been proud. He had felt that he was progressing in his training, but this was validation that what he had perceived in himself, though still possibly skewed, was also not too far from reality. He did his best to push aside the nervousness he felt but it would not go away. He had thought that when joining up as a tower guard trainee that he would have more encounters with the Aes Sedai and he would have grown familiar with them and at least comfortable enough to know what to expect when around them. Aes Sedai kept largely to themselves though. Those he had encountered or passed had barely taken note of his existence. He had not taken offense. There was little reason for him to have warranted their attention. Today would be different though. He was going to be in their midst. “Calm yourself. You just have to follow orders. There is nothing to worry about.” He took a deep breath and let is out slowly. It was time to go and meet up with the others.
  4. For all her claimed ‘worldliness,’ Viviane had never visited the Black Tower. Not until today. The large black stoned wall loomed before her, it’s heavy doors surprisingly open. Men in black coats sat watch, to be sure, but it was still a shock to see. The openness implied freedom and welcome. The White Tower had made peace with this group, but that did not mean there were not hushed whispers in the hallowed halls of the Tower; whispers about the madmen of the Black Tower and their tainted Saidin. Codswallop is what that was. If the Red Ajah could get over their past prejudices, then so should the other Sisters. If only more of them would come and see for themselves that there was nothing to fear. In truth, that was why she had come herself. Viviane Accylon still held some prejudice in her heart, but Light, she was determined to banish those feelings. She supported the Tower’s decision to play nice with these boys, and yes, she also accepted the new role her Ajah would play… She just never thought that Saidin would be cleansed… She never thought that the Last Battle would actually occur in her lifetime, but these were strange times. The Dragon Reborn walked the land and all things would be remade in his passing- once the Dark One was dealt with. Prophecy said as much. The Gateway winked out behind Viviane, not one she had Woven, she was unable to unaided; two Tower Guards remained as an escort. It was bad form, Viviane knew that, but most could understand her unease. As a sign of good faith, the pair would wait here for her, once she decided to make her return trip to the White Tower. Despite what the escort may have said to the observer, Viviane was still the picture of Aes Sedai calm and authority. A light breeze danced through the air, swirling Viviane’s coiled, ginger hair about her shoulders. The full skirts of her deep violet dress rustled against her legs, dagger sleeves waving this way and that. She held her hands clasped at her waist, patiently waiting for her contact to show. Ful Heart. That young man was a junior member of the Black Tower, not yet having earned both of the Asha’man pins. The thought softened Viviane’s nerves a touch. Surely, this Ful was still green behind the ears. Nothing she couldn’t handle with a few well-placed looks or sniffs. The two guards at the Gate seemed to be speaking between themselves, finally having spotted Viviane and her own escort. They did not come to greet her. Where was their propriety? Their decorum? And where in the Light was this Ful Heart?
  5. Obviously, this thread has major spoilers in it, all the way through to the end of the story, so if you haven't finished and you are one of those who believes in the commonly held mythology of the spoiler, please navigate away from this thread now, before you see something that you will think ruins your reading (or potentially viewing) experience. (Even still, I'll be using spoiler tags, just so the more sensitive readers don't pick up anything.) . . . . So, we all know that in the end it turned out that was a Black sister, and I'm pretty confident that probably 95% of the readers shouted out a Vader-like "Noooooo!" and almost threw their book across the room at learning that fact (I almost did, just as I did when Ned lost his head, and when the Red Wedding happened -- ooops, spoilers for another franchise... eat it folks, I dunna care!). That reveal was pretty devastating since . But what other Black Ajah reveals bummed you out, or upset you? Made you feel bad, sad, disappointed, or angry? For me, I would have to say it was learning that was a Black sister. That was almost as big of a blow to me as was, as I really liked her character a lot throughout the series. I always enjoyed her scenes and her interactions with Egwene, Nynaeve and Elayne. She had a nice personality, I thought, and seemed like a kind hearted person. But apparently her desire for political power within the White Tower was so great that she was willing to sell her soul to the Dark One and join the Shadow, becoming a member eventually of the Supreme Council of the Black Ajah (despite, supposedly -- according to the Wiki -- not holding their views). So which reveal wrecked you, or at least upset you in some way, other than ?
  6. Hello dear friends ^_^ So, I have a newly raised Red that is in desparate need of some weapons training. Does anyone fancy a little scene together to help train her? I'm open to anyone that wants to play around. if it's any character outside the Tower proper, we can totally come up with a reason for her to be training with them. I don't mind writing a solo RP for the purpose, but it would be much more fun with another player ❤️
  7. It was done. Viviane sat kneeling on the ground before the small table in her room, a single candle glowing before her. Shadows danced along the wall as the flame flickered too and fro. There was no detectable breeze, but there must be some unseen draft with the candle's behavior. Everything was silent in the hallways of the Accepted’s Quarters; most of those girls would have found sleep for the night. Not Viviane. She was contemplating her future… And how tired she would inevitably feel come the morning. Not that Aes Sedai let fatigue touch them, oh no. At the very least, Viviane sat alone with a full stomach. The kitchens certainly had outdone themselves on that meal. Smoked salmon on a bed of buttered greens. Warm honey oat bread and clear bone broth. Candied bacon and roasted potatoes. Custard filled tarts and several types of sugared berries. Wine that had not been watered. Tremalking black tea. Viviane’s mouth began to water at the thought. She pushed it out of her mind as quickly as she could. There would be time to eat whatever she liked once she had gained the shawl. It was a great injustice that one was not administered the Oaths as soon as they passed the test, but the White Tower was nothing if not traditional. There was nothing for it but to focus on the flame that danced before her. Viviane did not really want to contemplate her testing. It had all come flooding back to her as soon as she had stepped out of the Ter’angreal. Light, would she have to face such trials if she lived to see the Last Battle? She would be prepared if such was the case. At least she would never have to deal with any of the horrible situations involving her family… Hopefully. Her mother still lived. Best to put that out of her mind. The Tower was her home and the Sisters were her family now. She would be bound to them for eternity once she took the Oaths. Oh, she would certainly remain in contact with Mother, but it might be best if she never went to Camelyn to call on her. Mother could come here to visit. There would be less risk of anyone noting that the two were related, and then no one could use Mother against her… If it ever came to that- the Light forbid. One had to consider the possibilities when one had decided upon the Red Ajah. So strange. Years and years ago, Viviane had decided upon the Blue. It wasn’t until a certain Red sister took a liking to Viviane that she had started to doubt her convictions of Ajah choice. Viviane had grown up on the rougher side of Camelyn. She had seen what it was like for the poor and the destitute. Upon entering her name in the Novice Book, Viviane had vowed to herself that she would become Aes Sedai if only to help ensure that the people of the land were taken care of. Blues were obsessed with their causes and they held more than a little sway with many nations. It seemed so simple at the time. The Reds, however, were literally the sworn protectors of the world. They were the force that stood between humanity and the Shadow. They protected everyone that walked under the Light. Yes, they hunted and gentled men that could Channel, but that was only a small fraction of what it meant to be a Red Sister. People only focused on that mission because those same men were the biggest threat to the world. There hadn’t been many wars between the nations in recent memory. Light, even the Battle of the Shining Walls could be chalked up to the vanity of a single ruler. To be Red was to be flexible. To be Red was to be a guardian. To be Red was to be selfless. To be Red was to hold as much love in your heart as possible! If that were not true, why would so many women take up that shawl and vow to themselves to protect humanity from the horrors of the world… And even to protect humanity from itself. Viviane’s mission had never changed. It was only her view on the world that had changed, and thus her plans to achieve her mission. She would strike out and go to- A knock sounded at the door. It was time. Viviane had no need to school her face, she had already felt like serenity incarnate. So lost she had been in her own thoughts, she did not notice that the candle was almost burnt out. The sky was turning from black to a deep shade of violet outside of her window. Dawn was approaching. She rose from her spot on the floor with ease and went to the door, not hesitating to open it. She knew who lay on the other side. Seven sisters watched her as the door slowly swung back. Viviane was not surprised to find her favorite Red, Jagen Sedai, amongst them. Not a word was spoken by anyone. Viviane stepped out into the hallway and the seven women surrounded her, forming a sort of mock-honor guard, and they walked off into the dark hallways of the Tower.
  8. Jagen hoped Aslan would stay in the compartment she just showed him as his. A sister's rooms, but the Red's quarters, like all the others, were not at all filled to capacity. The Sitters had already discussed this with the Highest, and it was going to be their job to reign in any sisters who felt hatred for their new neighbors. She put on her shawl and let it sit in the crook of her arms while holding the folded summons note from the Amyrlin in her hand. The Reds would just need to get used to the fact that men who could channel were now going to be living with them. It made Jagen almost shudder. But the world was changing and she had no choice. Besides, she didn't hate men. She mistrusted them, but that was not the same as hating. She felt she knew their nature; with the Power, they'd have tried to usurp the authority of the White Tower; reigning them in quickly and forming an alliance had been essential. Especially after the disaster of sisters getting captured. Though, Aslan seemed fairly tame. She felt that bundle of emotions that was her Warder--he was, to her, no matter who had done the bonding!--and pushed them down, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. Feeling him in her head was still distracting--how did Greens stay sane, with not one but multiple Warders? Jagen worked her way down the inner spiral hallway that went up and down the length of the Tower, all the way down to the third level. The Amyrlin's study had dark wood doors with the Great Serpent on them, a pace across. The Red walked in and noticed other sisters were there as well, waiting. That was not unusual, but she wondered how many had received the Amyrlin's summons as she had. The Keeper was writing at her desk, Raslyn's wavy gray hair pinned up with clips. It pleased Jagen greatly to have a Red as Keeper and Amyrlin in these days. After their Ajah's unfortunate history with Amyrlin's, now was the time they were poised to overcome all of that--the White Tower reigned in the Black Tower, and would help win the Last Battle. And it would all be done with Reds in charge.
  9. Kiyi's fingers moved rhythmically, deftly, in the manner of one doing a thing so habitual that they no longer need to pay much attention to their task and indeed, her mind was occupied elsewhere. Embroidery was one of many skills she'd been taught by her mother, and it was her mother she thought of as she worked now. It was so often the case these days; wondering whether or not Margaere had completed her journey to Amadicia safely, how she was faring there, and did she miss her daughter much? Kiyi tormented herself with that last, still ambivalent over her mother's choice to go to the one place Kiyi herself could not safely go. With a sigh, she inspected the wooden hoop and its contents, checking the floral pattern gradually taking shape on the taut canvas. The colours were vibrant, pretty, reminiscent of a summer's day. It was to be a gift for Carina Sedai's study... a poor recompense for all the Sister had done, but Kiyi hoped she would like it anyway. The previous day had been exhausting. Bone deep tiring. Hours and hours of practising the weaves required during the test for the shawl. All 100 of them. In order. Just as she had done dozens of times since her Arches. First under Carina's watchful eyes and then under Nynaeve Sedai's gimlet gaze. A fond if rueful smile curved Kiyi's mouth as she considered those two very different women. Not people to be trifled with. Hard some might say, in their own inimical ways, and those people would not be wrong. But there was such depth and complexity to the Sisters that few knew about. Kiyi wasn't entirely sure how she would have survived her years in the Tower without them, conscious as ever of a deep seated gratitude to both the Brown and Yellow. "Still," she muttered under her breath, "they make the most conscientious task masters!" It had been late in the evening before Nynaeve had allowed her to return to the Accepted Quarters, and the bed she'd been yearning for; yet knowing that there were too few hours of sleep until she had to be up and at her tasks again. A sudden perfunctory rap on her door was swiftly followed by the entrance of the Mistress of Novices and Kiyi stood hurriedly, dropping a precise curtsy. Larindhra Sedai's ageless face considered her in silence for a moment and then she spoke the words Kiyi had waited so long to hear. “Kiyissalle Chevra, you are summoned to be tested for the shawl of an Aes Sedai. The Light keep you whole and see you safe.” The woman turned on her heel without waiting for any response, already heading off down the corridor, and Kiyi hastened to catch up. It wouldn't do to be judged and found wanting for something as silly as tardiness or inattention. Not now. Not when the world was suddenly within her grasp. She schooled her face to stillness and calm as best she could, breathing deeply and refusing to let her fingers curl into the material of her dress despite their instinct to do so. She was not an inexperienced Novice any longer. Somehow, she had to wrap herself in serenity and calm before she reached their destination.
  10. Viviane pushed the potato hash around on her plate with an air of dejection. Oh, she maintained the serenity expected of an Accepted, especially one that had spent ten years wearing the banded dress; but that didn’t mean she couldn’t explore her emotions privately. It was lucky for her that none of the Sisters could hear her thoughts, otherwise, she might be treated like a Novice again… Five, that was how many girls had been tested for the Shawl in the past three months, and all five of them had been raised to the Accepted after Viviane and had obviously spent less time wearing the banded dress. It was unfair, to say the least. Viviane was leaps and bounds ahead of those girls in terms of her studies and her mastery over her own abilities. Why she had personally helped all five of those girls with their work before earning the ring! What were these Sisters thinking!? Viviane had grown used to the idea of never attaining the Shawl. She knew the Hundred Weaves, practiced them every single day… There was no question at all that she could pass whatever test the Aes Sedai had cooked up, but still, she was made to wait. Perhaps the Sisters thought that Viviane had done such a good job at mentoring Novices that they would keep her in this bloody white and banded dress forever! A punishment for her family and their ‘minor transgressions’ against the Tower from generations ago… Viviane let out a sigh despite herself. She knew none of that was true. Why she had never even heard any of the Sisters bring up her family’s history more than once or twice and that was always as an afterthought. It was clear that the Accylon women had made it a bigger deal than it was. Most of the Sisters didn’t even recall the incident. Even Viv forgot it most of the time… Twenty years in the Tower had done much to reconfigure her brain, at least that’s how the Browns put it. Finally giving up on the plate, Viv admitted to herself that she had little appetite for dinner tonight. She may very well regret that later, but she still had a few chores to do before it was bedtime. If she was really that hungry, she’d bribe one of the servants for a day old crusty roll or a bit of cheese; and then pray that they did not rat her out later. Viviane dutifully cleaned up her meal, rising from the benches, when her eyes finally left the table and fell upon a woman entering the dining area. Her breath caught in her throat, the tray almost crashing to the ground. It was the Mistress of Novices and she was wearing her Shawl… Oh, Light! Can it be…!? Viviane thought flustered as she schooled her face to remain the perfect picture of serenity. The Mistress of Novices was indeed moving in Viviane’s direction, all eyes in the room turned to stare openly at the woman. Viviane’s right hand shook slightly before she caught the twitch.
  11. 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. But she did appreciate the small gifts of colored blue and green silk ribbons, some sweets and a new kerchief for her birthday. They did not seem to celebrate such things in the Tower. Some novices would sing about it for the first few years, but Aubriana was quick to pick up that Age became its own power so she hid the letter and presents and continued with her day. Dressing proper with a clean brush of her hair and a small neat braid pulling hair back from her face, she approached the room designated for teaching to find a familiar Red Aes Sedai standing inside. A deep, appropriate curtsy, "Jagen Sedai. Apologies for keeping you waiting. I'll be sure to arrive early so I do not waste time in our lessons." Aubriana Daivon Novice
  12. 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 made her head ache. Jagen wanted to rub it away, but she stayed her hand. She could feel Aslan there. A man, bonded to her. A man who had bonded her. A man, using saidin, had… Jagen looked up at the sky. It was overcast, and for this she was grateful. It matched her soured mood. She had been trying to calm herself since that… incident. She had had one other meeting with that man, one that was shorter than me expected, perhaps. But today, that had to change. If she was to be bonded to him, whether she liked it or not, she had to get to know him. It had taken her a week to finally decide to have a second meeting. She did not wear her shawl today which, though she had been Aes Sedai for a long time, was unusual for the woman when she met with visitors or guests who were not of Tar Valon. She smoothed her dress, one of maroon and cream brocaded clinging silk, walking down a main corridor in the Tower. She had sent a message through a White Tower servant to Aslan, to have him meet her at the Tower's main grand entrance. The Taraboner—in her people's style of dress, with her hair in dozens of braids and a veil over the lower half of her face—inclined her head towards an old couple, perhaps petitioners who were seeking Healing or some other matter. Well, in truth, Jagen was older than them, but she was always grateful not to look the part. She passed through the main hall and made her way to the Red Quarters. From here she chose a sitting room available to the sisters who did not want to meet in their rooms. The room held a dozen comfortable chairs and had two marble fireplaces. A servant was tending a single, lit fire when she entered. Jagen dismissed her with a short word. Now she would wait. The Sitter pursed her lips, her jaw tight; it was not the waiting she minded, but the thought of being in a room with a man who could channel. Oh, she could, if she really wanted to, sever him on her own. But such a thing was against Tower law, and she'd be severely punished. Perhaps even stilled herself, and sent to a farm for the rest of her life. It was not worth it. Not unless she deemed him dangerous. At least here, where novices, Accepted, servants and visitors went about their daily tasks, she would not be alone in meeting him again. In public she felt more at ease and more in control. Soon enough, the Asha'man entered. Jagen turned to face him, standing regally. Jagen needed to appear strong; she was strong, she reminded herself. "Enjoying the city, Aslan?" She asked in a way of greeting. It wasn't a friendly tone, but neutral as she could make it.
  13. For PART 1 of this RP-thread see ->> ----------- PART 2 .. Revisited by Memories and Wounds that never Heal .. ►▼◄ Elessar was lost in Dreams and Memories.. ● The days had passed by, one day flowing seamlessly into the next, as they had waited at the ‘Ocean Mistress’ inn, in the city and Capital of Tanchico by the Aryth Ocean, for new orders from the White Tower. They had certainly needed the rest after their months of travel and hardship, facing Darkfriends and Whitecloaks alike, their persistent efforts leading to the successful freeing of the imprisoned Green Sister from the Whitecloak stronghold not long ago. By now, however, both Elessar and Myrrhi, his Bonded young Aes Sedai, were becoming restless and ready to get on with their next mission for the White Tower. Since they had been ordered to wait until further notice, it was apparent that they were not returning straight away to Tar Valon. The Warder had ambivalent feelings in that regard; part of him had looked forward to getting back to the White Tower after their many months of strenuous travel and adventures, but another part knew very well that he had always been happiest as a Gaidin on the road, away from the restricting Tower and Warder grounds, on missons and adventures with his Aes Sedai(s). It was difficult to know how Myrrhi felt, she did not speak about it during their talks and he did not press her, but as the days passed Elessar found he looked more and more forward to receiving word of their next mission and waited with anticipation for the Tower messenger to arrive with instructions. ● A strong southern ocean wind beat insistently against the windows of his room at the inn one late evening, a forerunner of a coming storm, darkness enveloping the skies in all directions as night embraced the region, but the Bonded Warder heard or sensed nothing of this as his mind was back in the Borderlands, deep in memories of the past, re-living a visit made years before.. ● .. A strong morning breeze makes the colourful red-on-white background, star-illustrated Telcontar Banner beside the Estate Main Gate ripple with abundant life - as Elessar Gaidin and Kathleen Aes Sedai of the White Tower ride through the imposing gate and onto the front grounds - almost as if welcoming a lost son home... Memories.. ..Elessar, in his distinct Warder colour-shifting cloak, and Kathleen Aes Sedai, his Bondholder, in her green formal riding dress with a green fringed shawl around her shoulders depicting her Ajah, entered the manor house together and received respectful bows from the members of the Telcontar family. “Welcome to our house, Aes Sedai - we are honoured”, said a tall broad-shouldered man in a friendly and respectful voice, beckoning them inside. Valdherien Telcontar, lord of this manor, was a hospitable man. He wore silver chains over a formal dark-blue coat cut in the Kandori fashion, muted silk trousers and Borderlander footwear. His beard was in the distinctive forked style of his countrymen, he had two jewelled earrings in each ear, there were some gray patches in his dark hair, and his jaw protruded a little more from his tanned face than was the case with Elessar, but even so it was not difficult to see that the two were brothers. They clasped shoulders in heartfelt welcome, though Valdherien’s eyes were slightly hesitant, a look which the Warder returned. The moment passed and they joined the others - Valdherien’s wife Leonorah, a tall beautiful Borderlander woman who wore a stylish Kandori dress with a necklace made in an intricate pattern known as the ‘Kandori snowflake pattern’, and their two daughters, leading the way - as they headed down a hallway and into the main lounge. “Father?” Elessar asked his brother, in an uneasy voice, as they rounded a corner, and Valdherien, with a sigh he was unable to repress, replied that their father was out in the gardens. Elessar nodded and said no more, but inside he was debating with himself whether it would be wise to postpone the confrontation with his father, or simply get it over with. He had not decided by the time they reached the main lounge and his older brother bade them seat themselves in the ancient-looking chairs in the room and have a drink. On the walls were old paintings depicting Borderland history - scenery, towns, Borderlander warriors and battles -, paintings that Elessar knew from old had been passed down through several Telcontar generations. His age-long interest in history and battles had been born in part due to these old paintings and the small but distinct library of history and story-books that resided in a different part of the manor. ● After drink and some polite conversation Elessar excused himself, with a quick nod at his Aes Sedai which was returned, and headed out into the gardens. His unease increased as he walked toward a lonely figure standing some way off, tension he was sure Kathleen would feel through the Bond, but he had to get this over with. He had been in doubt whether to wait or - possibly - avoid the confrontation, but in the end had decided that this was the only way. He had to deal with his father at some point and he was tired of this chasm of anger and distrust which had developed between them. As he neared the lone figure, standing by an apple tree, he recognized his father’s features and posture. The old man turned around and faced his son in silence. He looked just as Elessar remembered him from his last visit several years before, though perhaps a touch frailer. Saamlin Telcontar, a proud man of dark skin with angry dark eyes and a hard face, stared angrily at Elessar but said nothing. Of all the brothers Elessar had always resembled his father the most, also becoming the martial son his father had always wanted - and nurtured. Elessar, however, thought it might be this very sameness - almost like a mirror image - that had driven his father from great pride in his son, as he had travelled to Tar Valon to become a Warder of the White Tower, to great, unyielding anger at him - and perhaps himself - for Elessar being unable to save the youngest son Vehran from drowning. It had happened on his first visit home a few years after finishing Warder training, during a forest trek in one of Kandor’s several valleys. Vehran and he had gone swimming in a Borderland river there, the currents had been strong - stronger than they had anticipated - and Vehran had accidentally slipped and knocked his head on a rock, disappearing flailing into the rushing water. Elessar had heard his brother’s scream but had been too far away to do anything, and by the time he reached his brother’s body, carried by the frantic stream further downriver, and got it out of the water, it was too late. His father had never forgiven him for not saving Vehran’s life. “You were the older brother, it was your responsibility to take care of him, Elessar! How could you not see the danger!? How were you, a trained Warder, unable to save him!? It is on your head. You are no longer a son of mine!” The harsh, bitter words rang in Elessar’s head still, even after so many years. And perhaps his father was right. He blamed himself for his younger brother’s death, even if perhaps unfairly, another sin weighing down on his soul.. ● Elessar tossed and turned in bed from the painful memory. He was swiftly drawn back to that time at the Telcontar Estate, back to the painful confrontation with his father.. ..The Warder turned away from his father’s accusing stare. He stared silently into the orchard of apple trees, flowerbeds and grassy grounds that enveloped the estate. Compared to other Kandori estates, of greater noble families, this was a fairly modest sized estate. Even so, it would have been considered a fair sized estate in some smaller countries and to a young Elessar it had, at the time, seemed the world. It was the world to me, he thought. For a while. In his mind’s eye, memories flowing, he was back in these gardens on a beautiful spring afternoon, the sun shining from a cloudless sky, a young Borderlander boy running freely around in play, face full of boyish glee, his two brothers at his heels - one older, one younger, but all three in many ways the same - none of them with any cares in the world.. ..Screams of delight and childish banter between brothers reaching out from the past, echoing in Elessar’s head.. ..”Wait for me, Elessar!” screams Vehran as he tries to catch up with his two elder brothers. “Faster, Vehran!” shouts Elessar as he tries to get to the Tree before a panting Valdherien. “Elessar, I will beat you..!” shouts Valdherien as he runs shoulder to shoulder with him. “Never!” screams the ever competitive Elessar back, as he storms ahead for the narrow win. Soon all three brothers lay laughing, gasping for air in the grass before the Climbing Tree .. ● Fond memories.. the Calm before the Storm.. Without turning, his eyes fixed on the Climbing Tree of his childhood some way off, Elessar said in a clear, strong voice. “Father, I am sorry.. but we must end this!”. His voice cut through the wall of silence between them. “This anger, this hatred.. will not bring Vehran back.” Vehran, I am sorry, he thought. My brother, forgive me. “Blame me all you wish.. I blame myself also, though I did what I could.. but please, let us end this strife. It’s been too long. It is destroying our family!” It is destroying you, he added in his mind. He clenched his fists and calmed his thoughts, trying to find the Flame and the Void. It was a struggle due to his inner distress. His father remained silent and Elessar could feel his eyes boring into his back. Seconds stretched into what seemed forever, the Warder waiting for the outburst that would surely come, but there was only silence. Just as Elessar was certain his father would not respond, the prolonged silence was broken by a malevolent curse. His father spat another curse and leaving obscenities in his wake he stomped off toward the manor without looking back. Elessar sighed, shaking his head sadly, and turned in time to see the figure of his angry father in the distance, closing in on the manor buildings. I tried. He thought in abject misery. Blast! But I tried! He had known that his attempt at reconciliation might not succeed, that this ..chasm.. between them was perhaps yet too deep, but he had hoped.. Perhaps his father simply needed more time. Perhaps.. ● When he returned a little later to the manor’s main lounge and exchanged a quick glance with his brother, the other man shook his head slightly, in that way letting Elessar know that their father was not there but gone for the time being. The Warder nodded resignedly, releasing some tension, putting the matter aside for now, then turned to his Bondholder. Meeting her eyes, his mood lightened. “Will you join me, Kathleen Aes Sedai”, he asked, using her formal title to give her added recognition and respect, “in the gardens. I will show you the Telcontar family estate.” There was pride in his voice and in his step - pride in his family and in her - , the pain of the confrontation and the loss temporarily put aside, as he led his Bondholder out onto the grounds.. ● When he woke early the next morning, with soft light from rising sunlight barely escaping the very dark clouds in the horizon and rain, pushed by heavy storm winds, hitting the window of his room hard, Elessar was in a daze, his head heavy, echoes of his aching, ever difficult dream-memories swirling in his fogged mind. The pain of the past at the Telcontar Estate up in his native Borderlands was a lingering memory, a painful moment - and part - of his life, one that had intermittently revisited him over the years, and he wondered not for the first time if that emotional wound would ever heal. ▀▄
  14. Tar Valon. Merdyn could hardly believe that he was finally here. The sacred city nestled on the banks of the River Erinin, Dragonmount looming dangerously on the horizon. The second largest city in the Westlands; the seat of Aes Sedai power. Men and women came to this Ogier-designed city for petitions, healings, and guidance. As an Asha’man, Merydn felt a tinge of guilt over his awe at the sight of the brilliant white buildings. Being the son of one of the High Seats of Andor, Merdyn should have visited this place long ago; but life had never steered him in this direction. Merdyn Gilyard was a man that had a Talent for Traveling; boring a hole into the Pattern, he had found himself stepping out just a few yards from the Shining Walls that enclosed the city. The walls in question were said to be impregnable; oh, they looked like Cuendillar, but Merdyn knew better… Although one never did know what the future held. Perhaps a Sister here wound find themselves with the Talent to create such a thing and then, perhaps, the city of Tar Valon would be truly protected from any outside forces. Merdyn pocketed the thought for later, it would be a handy suggestion to offer up to the Red Sister he was slated to meet with today. He had all sorts of those ideas stowed away. Asha’men were ‘new’ to the world, true, but youth often sprung innovation. Merdyn had vowed to himself to prove to the Sisters just how useful the Black Tower could be, if only in their ideas for the future. It had taken the better part of an hour or two, but before long, he was stepping into the White Tower itself. The city that surrounded the Aes Sedai stronghold had reminded him of Camelyn. It made him homesick. One of the other brothers back at the Black Tower had estimated that Tar Valon had housed over 500,000 citizens, not including the Sisters; a number that put the population of the Farm to shame. Oh, the Black Tower was thriving, and more came seeking refuge every day. It would take another generation or two, probably several or more, before their numbers reached even half of that, but still, it was something to think on. Nox had not come with Merdyn; his heart ached at being separated from his true love, but as an Asha’man, there would be times where duty would separate them. It was moments like these that Merdyn had wished Nox would consent to the Warder Bond… At least then Merdyn would always know that Nox was safe, alive, and where he may be; they would never truly be separated again. Now was not the time for emotions. Now was the time to act the professional gentleman, putting his best foot forward to represent the Black Tower. With a stiff upper lip, Merdyn entered the Tower and was lead off by a young Accepted wearing the typical stark white dress banded in the colors of the seven Ajahs. The M’Hael had named Merdyn the official liaison between the Black Tower and the Red Ajah. The thought scared Merdyn slightly; the two groups had enjoyed tense relations at best. The Reds were known for Gentling men such as Merdyn, it had been a shock for everyone when the Ajah had bowed to their ideals and started Bonding men of the Black Tower. It was something that spoke of the Ajah’s commitment to the Final Battle. If they were to overcome any of this, they would have to work together. There had been a time that Merdyn would have willingly been Bonded to a Sister, even a Red, but that time had long since passed. He had Nox now, and although it would’ve done wonders for relations between the Towers, Merdyn would no longer allow such a Bonding to happen. Nox held claim over his heart and soul, if there were one person in the Pattern that held the right to Bond Merdyn, it was Nox. Today, Merdyn was to meet with a Jagen Sedai. She was a high ranking member of the Red Ajah. The plan was to enter into talks concerning both group’s mutual interests and how they may come together to work better as partners on this hellish road to Tarmon Gai’don. Merdyn was the face of the Black Tower so far as the Reds were concerned, and he relished in the opportunity. He was a tad nervous, but life as a noble and being groomed to become the next head of the Great House of Gilyard… Well, Merdyn was more than equipped to deal with these talks. The M’Hael had made the right decision in naming Merdyn liaison with the Reds. There was no doubt in his mind that the talks would go well. With any luck, they would wrap this all up over tea and he would be back home in the arms of Nox before nightfall. Merdyn was genuinely good-natured, there was nothing to hide here, and he honestly hoped for the prosperity between the two Towers; surely this Jagen would see all of that. And if all else failed, Merdyn had brought seven fat chests of gold with him, to honor each Ajah.
  15. Weary didn't begin to describe Lavinya's state of exhaustion when she pushed through the door to her room. Lack of sleep was something she had dealt with for months now, but with the added physical exhaustion Corin had inflicted on her during his instructions that day she was weak-limbed and in serious need of sleep. It wasn't all bad though, she decided. Training with weapons had given back some measure of her severely bruised confidence, even if she was still rather hopeless. She wouldn't always be, not if Corin had his way. She had to admit he was a good teacher, if incredibly distracting. How was she supposed to focus on shooting an arrow at a target when her gaze kept wandering his direction? With extreme determination, she reaffirmed. It was past time to stop being haunted by the horrors of her past and take some control back. And Corin was assisting her. Willingly. Wonders would never cease. Still extremely vain despite her tiredness, Lavinya had luxuriated in a wonderfully hot bath before finally allowing herself to think of a nap. There was still an hour or two of daylight left, so at least her demons that lurked in the dark would be held at bay. Never so grateful to sink onto such a lumpy mattress, Lavinya was soon in the blissful cocoon of deep sleep, too exhausted to even dream for once. It seemed only a moment, but some time must have passed as she reluctantly clawed her way back from the depths of slumber, noting the lengthening shadows and wondering just what had woken her. She sat up then heard the sound again, the not so gentle pounding on her door. Light, if that was Corin preparing himself to barge into her room and rescue her from some imagined threat again she would thump him. She was scowling when she opened the door, but it was not the face of Corin that met her but one of the Red Guards, hand raised to knock again. "Yes?" She asked coolly. "I have a note for you milady. From your maid." That got her attention, and she snatched the note from him and broke the seal with one freshly chipped fingernail. Saline. Light, the absent minded woman had left yesterday in search of her informant and Lavinya had barely given her a second thought! Bloody Corin and his distractions, she thought, as she scanned the obviously hastily penned note. Well now, this certainly changed things. Mistress Lavinya, I have received news of your beloved, and I am afraid it is not that which we would have hoped to hear. No doubt you will wish to return home with your brother and nurse your broken heart in peace. I will journey on and convey your sincere regrets to your former betrothed on your behalf to spare you the pain of meeting with him after this unfortunate turn of events. I believe it best to do so alone. Kindest regards, S. "And what of Captain Mitya?" She asked, refolding the note. "He has already given the order to accompany your maid, my lady." Lavinya nodded, satisfied. "Be sure you do. Convey your captain a message for me. Keep her safe or there will be severe repercussions. Understood?" The man nodded solemnly and she dismissed him to make ready to depart with the rest of the guard. Lavinya had no doubt they would serve Saline well in her quest. Poor soul. It was hard not to feel sympathy for the Red, knowing she must face an almost certain heartbreak. One she herself had been forced to face at one time, when she had given up Corin for dead. She understood the need to be alone, not matter how good Lavinya's intentions were - she would just be intruding. She would respect Saline's decision and allow her room for her grief, and pray to the light she would not befall any harm. It did mean, however, that Lavinya was now stranded in the middle of nowhere with her favourite surly tower guard. Would it bode well or ill? Impossible to guess. It was not too much later that Lavinya presented herself to the small private dining room the inkeeper had graciously provided so that the lady Lavinya did not have to associate herself with the rabble in the common room. Corin - her dutiful brother - awaited her. How would he react to learn their mysterious mission was at an end? To learn that they were now on their own, with nobody to act as a buffer to their combustible tempers? That he was now her sole protection? Preparing herself for she did not quite know what, she swept into the room and took a seat across the table from Corin, after greeting him with sisterly affection for the sake of the young maid hovering by the door. They made quick work of ordering food and drink, before sending the girl off to convey their instructions to the cook. Once the door closed behind the slip of a girl, Lavinya wordlessly handed Corin the note, studying him openly as he read the brief missive. Lavinya
  16. Lillian Tremina wasn’t sexy in the same way other domani women were. It was partly her quietness, itself a scar of warfare. But it was mostly her fine-boned, stunning face, the sharp angles of her cheeks and nose and the deep green of her eyes. Her streaming, glossy hair had seemed to be a key part of her appeal. That was gone now, shorn during her captivity, but she was still beautiful. Her hair was beginning to grow in again, a fine soft felt. The lack of long hair emphasized her sculptural features. In the half-light of her thickly carpeted living quarters, Lillian paused to lace up her muslin dress and pull the leather harness of her short sword into place. She forced her mind to be calm prior to starting. Not that she felt particularly calm. This was happening. She could feel it . . . Her skilled hands worked with economic practice, quickly putting together the components of her skimming platform. It was tricky work. As the images appeared into her doorframe, she got a glimpse of country scenery and idyllic stone paths. Been there once on the mission where the white tower worked together with the asha'amen after their leader’s death, the aes sedai wasn’t quite sure where her destination was, but had a general sense where she’d wound up, somewhere outside of Caemlyn. A quiet spot near-ish the farm was good enough. There. That’ll do. She nodded and stepped off the platform towards the narrow doorway, boldly but not in a hurry. Trusting her instincts, she realized she was correct. Nobody was expecting anybody to exit from in front of this stone building near the quarry. She had got through to the farm with remarkable ease, and without a word, without haste, walked away from the building where soldiers might spot her, and carefully joined an access route busy enough for her to blend in. With her ageless face - though easy to mask with makeup or saidar - she knew she had no choice but to show herself to them - these young men. She had no ambition, she realized. No wish to be better than anyone else, or to rule over anyone, or to have more honor. But she had something urgent to seek, to live for. Her life duty. A battle was coming, the battle she was grimly determined to win. She pushed a ringed hand through her down-like hair. To hear her sisters talk, Lillian listened patiently, sometimes raised an argument to spur on more expressions of truths and logic. But now, head high, as she looked for her answer from channelers of the other half, the other sex if you will, she was silent, the calm of battle already on her. Lillian Tremina Aes Sedai of the White Ajah Ooc: white sister at the farm. Open to any BT’ers for linking practice, or talk with.
  17. OOC: For Aubriana & Ravenhild. @Arie @Chaelca. ~*~*~*~*~ Jagen Halin strode down the curving stairs from the Red Ajah quarters, watching the tiles go from red-and-white at the top to green-and-gray at the bottom As she walked down the wide hall and turned into another corridor, those tiles became yellow-and-brown. It was an eye sore in her opinion, but thankfully by the time she reached her destination, near the novices’ quarters and one level below the Amyrlin’s study, on a wide hallway where the floor tiles were red and green and the runner blue. Here was the Mistress of Novices' office, and Jagen gave a knock and stepped inside. Valeri wasn't there, but the Red found the paper left for her with two names on it: Aubriana, whom she already met, and Ravenhild. It also detailed which classroom to go to, one Jagen herself had chosen previously for this lesson. Making her way down a few more corridors, she pushed open the simple door. Though there was no clock, the lesson was due to start any minute. There were only a few benches in this room with a single, cushioned chair. A desk was here too, though it was pushed against the wall under the single window. Her gaze went to the two girls in white who sat waiting. Aubriana was familiar to her now, so the curly redhead with freckles and green eyes must have been Ravenhild. "I am Jagen Sedai," she greeted them as she sat in the cushioned chair, arranging her dark red skirts. Her shawl, bright red, she arranged high on her shoulders, and she sat tall and regal. "You may introduce yourselves before we begin, but only with your names. Now that you are a novice of the White Tower, whatever titles you held before, if any, hold no meaning now." Her eyes went to Aubriana, at that. "And while you may be used to going where you wish, when you wished it, now you must adhere to a strict schedule; I have no doubt Valeri has already informed you of some of the rules. However, this is not for no good reason; here, you may became far greater a person than you ever dreamed. An Aes Sedai. Already, you know you can learn to channel saidar at this point. Here, you will learn to truly feel it. This, it can take weeks if you have no prior training, so do not be dismayed if by the end of this lesson we have no visible progress; I assure you some will be made by the end, even if it feels otherwise. Now. Do either of you have prior training to touch saidar? Can either of you already feel it there?"
  18. Ashley Wilkes, dressed in civilian clothing, was sitting on a stone bench at the end of the path near the stables. He was leaning back with his legs stretched out and crossed, reading a dog-eared old text. After a moment, he turned to watch the men on the far side of the square doing jumps with weights on. He put the text down on the bench beside him and stretched his arms. This book was cheerfully borrowed from Aiden, one of his mentor’s recommendations. But either he was very stupid, or he just didn’t get it. Poems. Long, old poems. Bad old poetry, a bench in the sunlight, all in his own time. His way of escaping what he hated about his life here in the yards. He fidgeted with the book again, flipping the yellowing pages to see if its prose got any better. “Good book?” A tower guard he knew asked and paused by him. Ashley looked up. The man looked tired, his eyes still puffy with sleep, and he was trying to smooth down his hair with his fingers. Maybe he’d come straight from night sentry duty. “No,” Ashley shook his head, facing the guard. “I just don’t get it.” “You’ll need to figure it out later. You’re meant to be in the stables now." “. . . " He opened his mouth to reply and paused. He was taken aback by this news. “What’s this, it's started already?” Ashley said. “Yes, it has” said the other guard wearily, “aes sedai's time is precious, so we moved up your stable time to accommodate. Alvin can tell you more.” “I wasn’t notified.” “Ashley, it’s not your place to challenge any changes to the schedule, particularly where the aes sedai are concerned. Go care for the horses." Ashley hesitated - he had been dreading any time with horses - but the older guard walked away before he could protest. “All right,” he growled, eyes shone bright with anger. He kissed the silver leaf that hung on a chain around his neck before dropping it into his tunic and buckling up the neck of his over-jacket. Then he tucked the ragged old book inside his jacket pocket. “Ashley Wilkes?” one of the lead grooms told him as soon as he came near the stables. Ashley walked in casually and took off his jacket. “Yes, Master” he said. “I’m Alvin. There’s a lot to do and we don’t have much time. Jagen Sedai wants both her horses to get a bath, brushed down, and then saddled up after Trine. Come, this way." Ashley sighed and followed Alvin as they walked back to the front rows of stalls to where horses belong to aes sedai were kept. It was surprisingly empty. Maybe many aes sedai were outside tar valon, traveling? He looked around the stables, and felt a new stab of annoyance surge over him, as though he were a second class citizen. It was so unfair. He breathed deeply to calm the hot angry tears threatening to warm his cheeks. He raised gloved hand to take the pack indicated by the lead groom off the rack, and recklessly emptied its contents onto the floor. A brush made of boar’s hair. Bottles of scented oils. Beeswax for softening the leather bites and saddle. Soap. Sugar lumps. “Let’s begin with basics. You need to get to know this place. To learn who these horses belong to." Ashley nodded as Alvin showed him to the two horses. He sat on the bare floor of the stall and gazed at Jagen Sedai’s horses. Trainee Ashley had certainly not been designed to ride horses. But still he had not challenged lead groom Alvin’s decision to pick him for this chore. Ashley didn’t do things that way. And he knew that when the time came and he learnt more, he would be the right man for the job. But horses. Riding was a bloody nightmare. He’d never be higher than simply standing if possible. The vibration from wind, the animals’ heavy breathing and beating at the ground. It was as if the air itself didn’t want you to forget you were a few hands up thanks only to its charitable nature. Fortune prick me, he cursed to himself. He had been twitchy and already running on adrenalin from the anger. This was much worse. He felt sick as he studied the magnificent black stallion with its lush mane and the standard issue bay next door. They looked spirited. How was he to cope? He leaned forward and said, “Okay, I’ll be right back. Got to prepare your baths.” He kept his mind off the nausea as he drew water from the nearby source; Alvin watched him get used to the pump then helped him carry the two buckets. His stomach was doing flips, and all his resentment was somehow replaced by fear and worry about the struggles ahead. As per Alvin's instruction he began to work the bay's hair with his bristle-brush, gently, keeping his hands away from its mouth. Alvin handled the black stallion himself, not trusting a mere trainee with the spirited warhorse. Then came a very hard scrubbing with soap and water. And massaging oils into the muscles - this the animal seemed to approve of. Alvin then demonstrated the correct way to put the oiled leather reins and saddle on his horse, asking Ashley to do up the bay's. But before Ashley was even done with his task, Alvin tapped his shoulder and Ashley looked up. Back away from the stable groom, he saw through widened eyes the aes sedai coming, two of them. Light, was it so late already? He hastily secured the saddle and hoped he did that right.
  19. The night had been long, or it had felt like it. But it had also given Corin a great deal of time to think and make some decisions. A few of which he did not like the answers even though he knew there was little in the way of options open to him. Some he was not sure he ever would accept again; no matter how much faith she had in him. He still did not understand or comprehend how a person could control another’s dream or what this dream world that Lavinya had spoken of was. But he did know the fear that was on her face and in her voice. A very real and petrifying fear that had gripped her like he had never seen before. How he was suppose to fight and protect her against something he couldn’t understand or even touch was a puzzle he would need a lot of time to work on. It had taken a goodly portion of his mind all night and his only solution to date was what he had laid out around him. The small court yard in the rear of the Inn to which they were staying in was not the Tower training grounds and had little in the way of offering beyond that of a small patch of green in which Corin presently sat. He had left as soon as Lavinya had awoken and seemed comfortable enough with the light to let him go. He had made one stop in his room to collect a few items and one where the Red Guard was camped to collect a few others. That had made for an interesting conversation with the captain, but in the end the man had relented with his request. All that thinking and morning bustle had born the fruit of his present placement in the yard and the array of deaths edges that fanned out from a point centered directly opposite him. At the moment they served no purpose, not until his new unaware student arrived. While he waited Corin sought peaceful contemplation in the one place he found beneficial for such a quest. Sitting cross-legged on the grass and enveloped in the separation of the void, Corin took the time to go deep into the void as he had when he was learning from one of its masters. When it came to need for fighting and the Great Game, one only need immerse themselves shallowly in the void: enough to separate from the distractions of the body and mind to accomplish the required task. But the master of the void who had taught Corin had also introduced him to deeper levels. Places where contemplation became easy and the connection with the world around began to blend into one entity. He never reached the same depth as the master that taught him, but he had spent far less time in its study and embrace. This deep level of separation he had not visited in a long time, allowing the chaos of life to interfere with his daily journeys; journeys that would now require a great deal of clarity and thought. He had passed quickly through the separation of emotion and thought, through the flame into itself. All came easy and natural to him now, rarely did he even think on the process. But this morning he had. He had taken the time to walk the passage into the void slowly and deliberately. His goal was a deeper depth, a place he had not visited in a long time. Breathing in deeply once more Corin let the blackened quick of the candle grow to surround him; blackness and isolation. Everything was nothing and nothing existed in the center of that darkness. He breathed again deep in his chest as if his very heart drew the breath on its own. Felt the flow of air fill his nose; a cool pooling behind his eyes. The pressure of it pushed at the walls of his lungs and diaphragm as if to remind him of his limits. For a lasting moment he held the breath within, savouring the growing warmth in his chest as his body heated the air; then released it in a long slow silent sigh. As the breath left his body it carried away the last vestiges of self and internal chaos. In the emptiness that remained he floated as if a stick on the surface of the ocean. Here there was nothing and everything. The wash of sunlight across his face held the gentleness of a butterfly kiss and the warmth of a lover’s lips. The smell of the grass and the dirt beneath it a solid earthy anchor to hold him steadfast and offer him a sure footing. This was the levels he sought. The place he had not visited in far too long a span. The jumbled puzzles that plagued his mind once more slithered across the glassy dome surrounding him. He watched each one with fascination; a child’s curiosity. The world outside held so many complex and meaningless requests of him. Why did it have to be so? Misplaced trust flickered on the outside before fading back into the abyss. He had placed a great deal of trust in Sirayn. Too much in fact, allowing himself to be distracted from true purpose. If he had resisted the worlds follies of that relationship and listened more deeply to what was not said would she still be here with them? Even deep within the void, an answer to that question would never surface. That was the work of the Wheel as it was with all things. Once the wheel had spun out the fate there was nothing mortal man could do to reclaim it. It was an acceptance he knew he would have to accept even thought for now he could not. Soon he would have to close that chapter of his life and allow the Wheel to use him as it needed once more. As much as he continued to fight the thought he was slowly beginning to realize that the Wheel had not finished with his thread and it’s interweaving with Lavinya. His only hope now was that it was not his intense wool headed stubbornness to accept the new path the Wheel was trying to weave him to that had cause the remove of Sirayn’s thread. Even deep in the isolation of the void Corin could feel another part of his heart slowly die and harden. He made a poor offering for Lavinya but the Wheel did not seem to see it the same way. In answer to his unvoiced questions, his skin brought note of movement in the flow of air. Small currents and eddies announced the movement and the slight floral scent tinged with vanilla named it Lavinya. Without opening his eyes he indicated to a place across from him centered on the fan of bright edges. There was a pause before he felt movement again; the brief cast of a shadow across his face. To what reaction she might have had to his silent indication he did not know. It was not necessary, only that she was here and kept an open mind. He took a few more moments in the peaceful separation to mentally prepare himself for their dance. They had found a measure of common footing and last night seemed to cement their present truce even more. He Hoped it would last, she would probably not believe him if he were to say it, but he hated fighting with her; especially with her. “I see you have found my note, are you ready to learn?” Corin opened his eyes, his face was soft but traces of emotion and exhaustion were beginning to edge his features as the tranquility of the void slipped from him.
  20. Edit: How can I keep my fragmented self together when all around me are the falling debris of dead dreams? Post what you've been up to for the month before our journey then we'll be off. :) A strange period began for Saline: it was as though all the world's dreariness had fallen upon her and wrapped her in a fogged solitude from which there was no escape. Sometimes, finding herself in a remote part of the city, in some forgotten inn, sitting alone with only her thoughts for company, hardly knowing how she'd come there, she thought suddenly of Rory, formerly her best friend and lover. She realised suddenly, fully, and with dismay that she ought to at once come to an understanding with that woman and to make what terms she could. Walking outside the city gates one day, she fancied that fixed a meeting there, that she was waiting for Rory. Another time she woke up before daybreak lying on the port under some barrels and could not at first understand how she had come there. Recalling that period long after, she believed her mind had been clouded at times, and that it had continued so, with intervals, until the Gray stepped in. When she tried later to piece her recollections into a cohesive body (whether or not such a centered "whole" body exist is a discussion for another day, I feel), she gathered a good deal about herself from what Lavinya Sedai told her. She had mixed up incidents and explained events as due to circumstances which existed only in her imagination. At times she was prey to agonies or panic which amounted to morbid suspicions. She remembered too, moments, hours, perhaps even days of complete terror. She was trying to run from a full, clear understanding of her position as Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah . . . How happy she would have been to be freed from some cares, the neglect of which would have threatened her with complete, inevitable ruin. She was particularly worried about Rory, she might be said to be permanently thinking of Rory. From the time of receiving news of Rory's disappearance, the normal workings of her mind seemed to break down. Although it would have caused her more morbid uneasiness to find out, Saline was in a great hurry for an explanation of what happened to Rory. But during the first week of preparation after Saline had hired the Red Guards she had two or three times met Lavinya Sedai at Captain Mitya's lodgings. They exchanged a few words and made no reference to the vital subject, as though they were agreed not to speak of it for a time. Whenever she dropped by the headquarters, Mitya and his Red Guards were busy making arrangements for the journey. Lavinya Sedai too was super busy. At their last meeting, Lavinya Sedai informed Saline hat she had made an arrangement, and a very satisfactory one, for their escort; that she had, through certain connections, succeeded in getting hold of an Eban Bander lady's coach in very suitable condition. It had been of great assistance, as it was much easier to deal with the mercenaries than get permission to use Tower Guards, even as the Tower protected their political investments. Lavinya Sedai said something too about her charge Corin and had promised to come herself in a day or two to see, mentioning that "Corin would like to consult with the mercenaries, that there were things they must talk over . . ." This conversation took place in the Accepted passage on the stairs. Saline stared intently at Lavinya Sedai, but didn't seem to understand. She was sorry Lavinya Sedai had so much to do of her own business and other people's that they've had no time to talk things over that Saline wanted. But it was the nature of things. She moved to one side to make way for the servant and a novice, who were coming up the stairs on separate chores. Lavinya Sedai went her way. Saline stood still for a moment, thought, and sat down on the stairs to think some more until the servant had returned with a tray and the Red Sister was oblidged to move again. She felt very miserable, vowing to return home and take to her bed until a month's time was up. Some of her Sisters looked in on her to make sure she was eating and not ill, but most stayed away. There was a conviction in the air that Saline was very nearly mad, in the manner that a Warder might if his bondholder died. And judging by her recent behavior and those stupid, quite inexplicable actions, she might as well be. Only a loony treated her Sisters as she had. And only a monster would have let her beloved Rory go, as she had.
  21. Seheria watched the bustle in the ajah halls erupt shortly after the end of the ceremony was announced. Word spread to the Ajah when the last of the Sisters from other ajahs emerged from the Chamber where the newest Sister was raising. The Yellows had long since been preparing for the addition of the newest, Celestine, but one never truly knew which direction a newly raised sister would take until the words were spoken. At the exit of the representatives of the six other ajahs it was known and spread back to the chosen ajah to start the preparations. Seheria scanned her closest looking for the most appropriate welcoming outfit. The Sisters always seemed to treat this day as an extra special one. Any excuse to have a little extra fun, she supposed. Her regular outfit wouldn't do, she would seem cold and disengaged. Perhaps bitter that she is getting further from being the new one. Too extravagant and she would be ridiculed for trying to steal the show. It was days like this she wished she had joined the Bowns. No one would care what I was wearing if I were Brown; no one would look up from their books long enough to notice if I was in a queen's crown or stark bare, and if I was either they would all assume it was research of some kind and pay no mind. The Yellows weren't so. They would judge in silence and keep a tally. At least, she knew she did that and she was Yellow. The child would be coming soon. Woman. The Woman would be coming. Sister, she corrected herself again. Light but it is hard to make the switch. I'll need to school this tongue and fast. The last thing I need is to insult the girl -woman- sister on her first day. She chose a light caramel coloured dress with a hem at the mid calf. The neckline rose tight to her jaw, sheer sleeves fell to her wrists ruffling out gently as they came to her hands. She accented with simple gold earrings and wore her dirty blonde hair in a simple updo. Enough to look like she put in an effort, but not like she was planning for days. She tended to wear accents of other colours, but it wouldn't do to welcome home a new yellow in the colours of another Ajah. The Yellow donned her own shawl and swelled with pride. It still hit her every time. How much she had worked to get where she was. What this simple piece of cloth represented. She worked for it and she earned it. She supposed the new yellow would be feeling all of this in full force. She joined the others in the hall, lining up to greet Celestine home. The Head and Sitters came through and they had the newest one beside them making their way through the halls. She stopped to introduce herself to each of the sisters and Seheria greeted her warmly when it was her turn. She was last to be introduced and while that would normally never be something the stubborn Yellow would settle for, she knew it was a place of honour so she held her head high and all but made a show of it. There were seven ajahs and seven places of honour when welcoming a new sister. The Head of course, and the two Sitters who went to the ceremony, the three newest Sisters to the Ajah would decorate the living quarters of the new arrival, and the last to greet her on her welcome home would be the one who will mentor her, help her ease her way in to really being a Sister of the Yellow ajah. Celestine can wear the Shawl, but that doesn't mean she is truly one of them. There are things all Yellows know and this girl did not know them yet. It would be Seheria's job to ensure the new Sister did not make a fool of the Ajah while wearing their colours before she knew any better. They exchanged pleasantries in the hall and the Head and Sitters said their goodbyes, retiring to their rooms. The others left in turn, some offering invitations to have the new sister join them for tea or walks. Seheria took a deep steadying breath, silently, and only let a slight flinch show as she leaned in to the kiss the woman's left cheek. Some traditions should be done away with, she thought, this should be the first! "Welcome, Sister." Seheria addressed her and let a pause fall to give the woman time to react to being called that again. It would take time for it to sink in. "I am sure you have had a trying day and could use a rest. I would show you to your own rooms, but I'm afraid they are not quite ready for you yet. Please, come join me for some tea, some talk, and a bit of a rest. Your day has been long and unlike any other since your arrival here, but I assure you, your journey is just as fresh now as it was when you first walked through the Tower doors. A new journey, mind, and one you are largely in control of...or will be, but a new beginning to a new way of life is starting before sundown." They entered Seheria's private sitting room and she ushered the woman to sit in a winged back chair. An Accepted who had come to work off some punishment time in the Yellow's quarters dropped into a curtsy when she saw the two Sisters come into the room. "If you'd like some tea, Sister, I'm sure the Child would happily steep it before she returns to her classes." It was a test of the newest sister. To see her resolve, her personality, and her ability to make the leap from just hours before having the same banded dress as the girl before them to now wearing the same shawl as the Aes Sedai. Seheria Sedai Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah Retro - Yellow Mentor
  22. A girl sat on her bed in the Accepted's quarters in the White Tower on the island of Tar Valon surrounded by the Erinin River in the northeastern corner of the Westlands. She sits with her legs folded under her and she is closely examining a Great Serpent ring - her Great Serpent ring. She turned the golden snake over and over in her hands, feeling every detail. Jasmyne was frowning at her ring. She had worn this ring for at least ten years. She had actually lost count. How much longer would it take for her to get the second piece? She wanted a shawl. She didn't care what color it was, unless it was White. She would have taken nearly any color as long as she got a shawl. The striped dress was growing abhorrent. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was getting longer now: it was down past her ears. However, she looked a bit boyish in it, and felt it too. Her door opened without a knock and permitted an Aes Sedai. She could not tell who for her candle did not quite reach that far. Unsurprisingly, the voice she heard was most certainly belonging to Larindhra, the Mistress of Novices. However, it was unlike her to appear this late. It was past curfew. From her shadowed face, the most shocking words she ever heard came. She had just been wishing for those words, but it was so shocking to actually hear them. "Jasmyne Ceres, you are called to be tested for Aes Sedai." She quickly got up and followed after the Red. She was thankful that she had decided to stay dressed for a while. She trotted after the Aes Sedai. She sure hoped she was ready for this. She couldn't afford not to be. This Hallway went further than she had been before. She was led into a large room much like the one for the test for Accepted, but the ter'angreal was significantly different. It was a single oval shape. There were also many more Aes Sedai than before. One spoke. “You come in ignorance Jasmyne Ceres, how would you depart?” “In knowledge of myself.” She responded as confident as she could muster. Aes Sedai were always strong, even if they were nervous. “For what reason have you been summoned here?” “To be tried.” “For what reason should you be tried?” “So that I may learn whether I am worthy.” “For what would you be found worthy?” “To wear the shawl,” She was then quickly briefed on her instructions. Small glowing pad to weave on, weave the correct weave, etc. she nodded, undressed, and then glided into the oval. She emerged on the other side in a very fine and expensive dress. At a glace, it appeared to be woven gold. The irony of this was that she was nearly waist deep in a swamp. A very muddy swamp. She looked around and saw the glowing mark a little ways off on top of a tree root sticking out over the swamp. She started to work her way over, but it was a rather difficult task. Her legs were short and by the feel of it, the hem of the dress was very narrow and movement constricting. The branch was higher than before once she got to it, or perhaps she was just deeper in now. She looked down and it was definitely above her bosom. Short little arms reached up and took a firm grip of the monstrous root. The muddy water held her in down quite well and she didn't have the upper body strength to pull free. She would have to muck her way over to the tree base. It was a rather slippery tree, but she got up on it with much grunting. The idea of ripping the constricting dress ran through her head many times. It would have been much easier to get up if she had. She put her arms out and balanced over to where the symbol was. It seemed as soon as she set foot on the pad, the entire marsh came to life with the worst possible wildlife. Alligators covered the top of the swamp water. Mosquitos, bees, and all sorts of annoying and biting insects filled the air. Every kind of snake were suddenly dropping out of the overhead branches and crawling towards her. She started her first weave, and then proceeded to deal out punishment to the creatures that wished her harm. She wove a large wave into the swamp and deterred the alligators for a moment. Her training with Jagen Sedai had certainly paid off. She wove fire into the Air and a wave of Flames consumed many insects, but they just replenished themselves quicker than anything should have. The snakes were awfully close to her, so she decided a air shield around and below her would suffice, while a fire shield hovered above that to keep her air supply semi-constant. Cobras and adders struck at the shield and bounced off, the she was losing oxygen. The fire was using hers up. A thought came to her. These were all cold-blooded creatures. She strongly wove a simple weave and the temperature suddenly dropped to below freezing. The alligators retreated into the swamp, bugs dropped from the sky, and the snakes hissed in disgust. She quickly finished off the absurdly complicated and useless weave, then was suddenly gone. She appeared in another setting. It was brightly lit and plat. The pad was on a hill in the distance and she could see it clearly. She looked down and she was in her birthday suit and up to her shoulders in briars, nettles, and itchweed. And….there were ants in it. Very possibly also mites and biting beetles as well. She must remain calm. She must not scratch. She walked forward with her fists balled up beside her, the itching getting worse with every step. Needles brushed against her constantly and she could not imagine a less comfortable situation. Sweat poured down her face with concentration to not scratch herself. She increased her pace and finally got out onto the hill. She itched like mad and her eyes were tearing up. The glowing pad lay in front of her and she stepped onto it. She started the second weave and a strong wind filled with cottonwood fluff blew past her. There was so much that it was blinding and it kept getting in her mouth and sticking to her sweat. It was gone as fast it came, but then the most peculiar phenomenon occurred. It began to rain…vinegar? GREAT LORD! That stings! It was very hard to keep straight posture and not scratch. She wove a bit quicker. It rained harder. Her eyes began to burn. Must weave faster! Discreetly faster. The weave was done and she was gone. This is exhausting! She thought as she appeared in the last world she would have to face. The creativity of the Aes Sedai working the ter'angreal was commendable. Who knew that large housewives trying to force-feed you could be so horribly distracting? What were they up to this time? It was the grand finale, so to say, so they would have to outdo themselves for this. She was in a simple garb and where she was appeared to be a barren wasteland of solid rock. Her symbol was only a few feet away and there was nothing out of the ordinary that she could see. She stepped carefully and nothing happened. She stepped onto the pad and waited for the bang. Nothing. She started to weave and it happened. The ground all around her shook violently and cracked open. Lava and steam exploded into the air and was falling around her. Hastily she wove a shield to block the large pieces of molten rock that were intent on landing on her. Hot steam then shot right up her dress and burned her legs and waist while scalding her torso. She concentrated hard to not scream or jump or run or something foolish like that. She was far too stubborn to give up now and she knew it. A weave of air deflected the steam away from her and she continued her weave. The ground shook harder and she nearly lost her balance. She wove a pair of rock bands around her feet so she wouldn't move from the spot. Her weave was nearly done. Another burst of steam shot into her face and she very nearly lost her weave. She deflected that one, crying from the pain. The weave came together and she was gone. She emerged into the room and found herself completely unblemished in any way. The itching was gone too. Just a faint memory of it all. The other sisters were quiet and she donned her Accepted dress, then returned to her rooms for reflection. The candle she had left burning before had gone out in the time she was gone. She left it that way. She needed time to reflect and the darkness was far less distracting. She lay on her bed, absentmindedly scratching her arms. She wasn't itchy, but the memory of it made her feel like she was. Her mind was so lost in thoughts that she eventually just faded into a restless sleep. She awoke to a knocking on her door. She rubbed her eyes and there were seven Aes Sedai standing in her room, one from each Ajah. Interesting enough, they were in alphabetical order by Ajah name from left to right. she did not know the Blue sister, Cara Sedai was the Brown, Alitacia the Gray, Janine the Green, Larindhra the Red, Lillith the White, and Respa the Yellow. "The time has come, Jasmyne Ceres, for you to swear the Three Oaths and become an Aes Sedai. The Amyrlin awaits. They all left and she followed them. Butterflies filled her stomach, worse than the night before. Why was this more un-nerving? They were back in the room with the strange oval ter'angreal. The Amyrlin was standing on the opposite side of the oval, and the Keeper was beside her holding a tassled cushion containing another ter'angreal. The Oath Rod. The Sitters of each Ajah stood in a semi-circle behind Kathana plus the newest Aes Sedai of each Ajah holding a shawl. A shawl that each one wanted to place on her shoulders. She only recognized two of them Jagen stood with the Reds and Kabria with the Greens. Those two were the only two she had ever really considered, and she had decided which one wins back when she made another major decision. She confidently stepped through the oval ter'angreal and approached the Amyrlin Seat. The Keeper gave Kathana the Oath Rod and she spoke. “Your time has come, child. Speak the Oaths and seal yourself to us forever.” She placed the thin white rod into Jasmyne's tiny hands and wove Spirit into it. "Under the Light, I swear to speak no word that is not true." Her eyes widened as she felt something constrict onto her skin, like a second skin. It was the oddest feeling. It was tight. "Under the Light," she continued, "I swear to make no weapon with which one man may kill another." This one was just as tight over her skin. She hoped they would not crush her. "Under the Light, I swear never to use the One Power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn, or in the last defense of my own life, that of my Warder, or that of another Aes Sedai." That last one came just as the other. She almost held her breath in expectance. "Jasmyne Sedai, it is done. You have sworn the Three Oaths, and may now petition your Ajah." The Amyrlin took the Oath Rod and put it on the cushion, then stepped back. She stood and eyed all the Sisters over. She wanted to make sure she was right. She lingered over Jaydena Sedai, Eadon Sedai, and Loraine Sedai. She lingered over Raslyn Sedai, Shevara Sedai, and Zarinen Sedai as well. With a deep breath she stepped forward towards Jagen Sedai. "If it pleases you, Aes Sedai, I seek admittance into the Red Ajah" She heard a gasp, then a thump. All heads in the room turned to see the Mistress of Novices sprawled on the stone floor. She had fainted in shock. Respa tended her and she awoke, then all the other filed out of the room. Just her and the Reds.
  23. Aureli watched her students file out of her classroom and gave a few of them some nods, acknowledging that they had done a good job. Now, they had to go and finish their compositions, and all she had to do was sit back and relax while she wrote the lesson plans for the next class of advanced grammar. She tucked her notes from this class into her pouch, and made to stand up. Before she started to walk to the door, however, she saw Valeri standing in her classroom door, her shawl draped over her shoulders, and Aureli's heart jumped into her throat. "Aureli Yenda, you are summoned to be tested for the shawl of an Aes Sedai. The Light keep you whole and see you safe." It seemed all at once that the gravity of the situation settled itself onto her shoulders. Instead of hiding, she stood up straight and glided over to the Mistress of Novices, hiding her anxiety and misgivings. This woman had seen her go from a scared young girl from Tear to a capable Accepted, and if she had faith that she could pass this test, Aureli did not doubt that she could. The next time my students see me, I'll be Aes Sedai... The thought of it gave her courage to follow. The path they took around the Tower's corridors was only slightly familiar to Aureli, as she had only gone this way once, to pass through the Three Arches. As she descended the stairs with Valeri, she suddenly felt an urge to start rambling, reminiscing, telling her her fears and anxieties, but she knew that it was looked down upon to speak until her turn came. And, so she entered the bowels of the White Tower with the guiding light of the sparse lamps and torches showing them each step as they went further and further down. Valeri stopped in front of the largest doors Aureli had ever seen. For a moment, her heart started beating faster and faster, but she calmed herself, making herself breathe slowly and readying herself for the moment that they would open. Valeri embraced Saidar and opened the door with Air, as she had done on Aureli's first day in the White Tower. The doors, even though they were enormous and ancient, opened silently because of the constant maintenance to the White Tower and every detail of it. She wanted to take in the whole room, but all she saw was the ring-shaped ter'angreal in the middle of the room, hovering about the gorund, waiting for her. Before she could admire the complexity of it, the Mistress of Novices said, "Attend." A group of other sisters took that as their cue, and made a ring around the both of them. "You come in ignorance Aureli Yenda," Valeri said. "How would you depart?" "In knowledge of myself," she answered calmly. "For what reason have you been summoned here?" "To be tried." "For what reason should you be tried?" "So that I may learn whether I am worthy." "For what would you be found worthy?" "To wear the shawl." After saying this, Aureli began to disrobe. She began as she always did, by untying the knot that covered her right shoulder, letting the world know that she was missing an arm. The Mistress of Novices continued on as she prepared to be clad in the Light. "Therefore, I will instruct you. You will see this sign upon the ground." As she channeled, Valeri drew a six-pointed star in front of Aureli. Unexpectedly, a sister began to channel behind her. She wasn't told that was going to happen, but she wasn't told much besides what to say and when. The sister behind her sent a small weave into the back of Aureli's head. She felt unsure for a moment, but these were women who would be her sisters if she could pass this test, so she took this as an exercise in trust, and kept her composure. The channeling sister said, "Remember what must be remembered." Remember? Of course she would remember. Most of her training in the White Tower had been about memorization. She let the chanting of the words continue, however, as Valeri continued. "When you see this sign, you will go to it immediately, and at a steady pace, neither hurrying nor hanging back, and only then may you embrace the Power. The weaving required must begin immediately, and you may not leave that sign until it is completed." "Remember what must be remembered." Aureli burned the image of that star into her consciousness, remembering every detail. Would there be decoy stars with five points? "When the weave is complete, you will see that sign again, marking the way you must go, again at a steady pace, without hesitation." "Remember what must be remembered." "One hundred times you will weave, in the order you have been given and in perfect composure." "Remember what must be remembered." The small weaves caressing the back of her head felt strange, but she ignored it, listening to what she heard as she finished disrobing. She felt the weave settled onto her head, and the sisters stood around the ter'angreal in a circle, and knelt down around it. They embraced Saidar, and began weaving, making the colors in the ring shift and change rapidly. It was beautiful. Aureli was finally completely undressed except for her ring. It hadn't left her finger since the Amyrlin put it there, all those years ago. With her little finger, and her thumb, she eased it off, and placed it atop the rest of her clothes. It wasn't until that was gone that she truly felt naked, but she kept her embarrassment tucked down and away from her face. At this point, the colors of the ring had changed so swiftly that they were a bright white, and the ring began to rotate slowly. She approached the ring, watching the golden sides as it rotated away from her, and when the opening came back to her, she stepped into the light.
  24. Ay’Lira took her book and snuggled into her bed. It was a complete account move-by-move battles in the Trolloc Wars. And she definitely deserved the time to read it. At least she thought she did. She had written a good thesis about three Amyrlins raised from the Gray. And now, she could enjoy her favorite subject in history…battles. She opened the book to the first page and only read the first two words before her door flung open. She lowered the book and looked up to find Valeri Sedai wearing her shawl. Any questions she had in her mind waited for the Mistress of Novices spoke. “Ay’Lira Sonoran, you are summoned to be tested for the shawl of an Aes Sedai. The Light keep you whole and see you safe.” So, she wasn’t in trouble. No, it was something much more grave than that. All the work she had done over the past couple of decades or so was about to be put to the test. No, it was something much worse. Closing her book and setting it down, she stood up and following the Aes Sedai out. Much like when she had gone down to the bowels of the Tower for her test to become Accepted, the room where she would take the test for the shawl was far down a spiraling staircase under the Tower. Every step, every second before they reached the room seemed like a year! She soothed herself, reminding herself that Valeri wouldn’t have summoned her if she wasn’t ready. Finally, the Mistress of Novices stopped at a pair of double doors and opened them with a weave of Air. There were so many details about the room that she couldn’t take them all in before it began. But she did notice all the power going into the slowly spinning in the in the middle of the room. “Attend,” Valeri said in a strong voice. Seven sisters, all in their shawls, one from each Ajah, stood around the Mistress of Novices and Ay’Lira. “You come in ignorance, Ay’Lira Sonoran. How would you depart?” Valeri asked. “In knowledge of myself,” Ay’Lira answered. “For what reason have you been summoned here?” “To be tried.” “For what reason should you be tried?” “So that I may learn whether I am worthy.” “For what should you be found worthy?” “To wear the shawl.” After that, Ay’Lira began to disrobe. As she did, the Mistress of Novices continued. “Therefore, I will instruct you. You will see this sign upon the ground.” The Aes Sedai channeled and traced a six-pointed star with her finger in the air. Oddly enough, as she demonstrated, a sister began to channel behind Ay’Lira as she continued to disrobe and lightly touched her head with the weave. Strange, that. She didn’t let any surprise show, though. To become an Aes Sedai, she had to trust them whether or not she knew their reasons. “Remember what must be remembered,” the unseen sister said. “When you see that sign, you will go to it immediately, at a steady pace, neither hurrying nor hanging back, and only then may you embrace the Power. The weaving required must begin immediately, and you may not leave that sign until it is completed.” “Remember what must be remembered.” “When the weave is complete, you will see that sign again, marking the way you must go, again at a steady pace, without hesitation.” “Remember what must be remembered.” “One hundred times you will weave, in the order you have been give and in perfect composure.” “Remember what must be remembered.” Ay’Lira soaked every word as it was spoken to her, even the “remember what must be remembered” part. The weave the sister was weaving settled in, and the seven sisters surrounding the ring. As she continued to undress, she felt all seven of them begin to channel, and channel complex weaves at that. She didn’t show any hesitation or falter at all as she finished, placing her Great Serpent ring on top of her folded clothes. She waited calmly for the signal from the ring ter’angreal. When she saw the air in it gleam completely white, she stepped through… Looking around, Ay’Lira decided she was in an empty manor. She saw no one, heard no one. The unfamiliar surroundings made her want to hide, but she had to keep perfect composure. She had to keep calm. Walking forward, she wondered why she was nude, and where her clothes might have gone. As she moved through the grand parlor, she spotted a simply cut but elegant silk dress, shift, stockings, and slippers. Not hurrying, but not hesitating either, she walk to the table that had the clothes and dressed at a steady pace. Once she was properly covered, she continued to walk, striding down the hallway connected to the only door in this unusual place. As she walked, she began to hear people move around. Even though she was dressed for this place, she felt very unwelcome, very out-of-place. But she kept her discomfort down. It did not show on her face. She couldn’t let it. The population of this once desolate place grew denser and denser. People cropped up out of nowhere now. Where under the Light were they coming from? As she moved down the hall, they began to cover amused smiles while looking at her. They snickered and murmured. She wondered what they found so amusing about her. But she kept her eyes forward, gliding down the hall until she reached a large ballroom. Lords and ladies flitted about, some dancing, some talking, but most still looking curiously at her. She wanted desperately to stop and demand what amused them so. But she kept walking, weaving through dancing, talking, and amused nobility until she saw it. There was a six-pointed star in the middle of the dance floor. Couples swirled and twirled around and atop it. She kept her shoulders straight and her face bare of any emotions as she made her way through the throngs of people. This time, she didn’t weave, she asserted her unusual authority, and people backed away, embarrassed to be seen with a creature as strange as her. As soon as her feet were planted on the star, she embraced Saidar, and as soon as she began to weave the first required weave, the music she hadn’t noticed before changed tune, and all the party-goers began to dance in a uniform motion. When she saw the immediate uniform movement, she immediately split a weave and made a wall of Air around her, making sure the couples wouldn’t knock her off the star. Once the weave was complete, the music died down again, and the people spread out, paying her no mind whatsoever. She left the star and headed toward the new one now hanging over the door leading out… Ay’Lira’s bare foot stepped on something that made a distinctive squish sound. She kept moving, but also looked down to see what she had stepped in. It was mud. But it wasn’t mud that one simply saw after rain. This was mud that was filled with decades of rotten plant fodder. It was green and black, and it stank of the Blight. Her face did not twist, her nose did not twitch. But she did keep a keen eye on the surroundings. The Blight did not accommodate to anyone. She did wish she had some clothes, though. As she thought that, a pair of trousers, a good shirt, and a coat appeared on some unusually clean branches of trees, some good boots hanging along with them. She dressed steadily and headed out again. The trees were black, not with death, but with decay. The plants were the same, but they seemed to have oddly-colored spots on them. Whenever something made a noise, she followed it with her eyes, but usually found nothing. She walked until she found a six-pointed star marked out in twisted sticks left in the mud. Stepping into the star, she embraced Saidar and began to construct the second weave. As soon as she brought out the barest amount of Air, Fire, and Earth, a Myrdraal appeared in front of her. It smiled at her, but before its smile could reach its eyeless gaze, she split the weave of Fire and burned its head off. The thing thrashed on the ground, scrabbling for its sword as she continued to weave her required second weave. The thing was grotesque and demanded her attention, but she ignored it. She added the Spirit and finished the second weave. The gnarled and decayed branches of the black trees formed the same six-pointed star she had just left. She walked under the branches, and… Her home felt so strange without anyone in it. And she felt stranger standing in her kitchen bare of clothing. She didn’t know where her family had gone, or how she had gotten to the kitchen without a stitch of cloths. But she knew she had to find the six-pointed star, weave the third required weave, and keep a completely calm exterior during all of it. Her simple preferred clothes appeared on her kitchen table: good woolen trousers, simple boots, and a good shirt. She dressed herself and walked through her house. The star was not here, and neither was her family. So, she went outside. She headed from her house toward the Seven Towers. Her father might be at work, or her mother. But more importantly, the star would be likely to be there. But as she walked through the streets, she saw it etched out in stones right in front of the main entrance of the Towers. When she reached it, she began to weave Air, Earth, and Spirit. In the corner of her vision, and in one of the arrow slits of the closest Tower, she saw movement. She split the weave of Air and sent a long weave to her target while keeping the complicated weave in its place. The extra weave of Air grabbed the arrow aimed at her and the bow that was about to shoot it and likely others. The bow and arrow dropped harmlessly to the ground, and a curse came out of the arrow slit. The assassin probably wasn’t done, but she kept weaving. Air, Earth, and Spirit began to look like a circle of lace. Ay’Lira was almost finished when the lone assassin came running out of the tower and rushing at her with a sword. She dispatched of the sword in much the same way she had the bow and arrow, but he kept running, now with a brandished knife. This time, she just tied him in ropes of Air and tied off the weave, finishing the required one. She turned around and saw a six-pointed star above an inn. The assassin shouted curses and obscenities at her as she walked away, saying that he had killed her family, had killed her friends, had killed anyone she loved, screaming her name. His voice sounded familiar, but she didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to confirm that this was her innocent little brother. She walked under the star… Ay’Lira was beginning to feel tired, but she didn’t let her posture or her face show it. She had to be calm, and keep going at a steady pace. Her bare feet hit rocks. Not stepping stones, but large pieces of earth. Looking up, she saw the top of a mountain. But, the tip wasn’t there…was it a volcano? Looking down, she saw nothing but forest. She looked up and saw the six-pointed star up the mountain, not very far away. As she began to climb, she found a simple woolen dress and boots. A dress wasn’t the best thing to climb in, but it was better than her skin. She dressed and headed up again. The vague pathway up the mountain slowly went away during her ascent, and she was forced to climb on all fours, but she still kept her face smooth, and her pace steady. It was hard to keep her breathing steady, but she managed it. When she finally reached the star, she stood on steady feet. She had to keep her feet apart, but she still stood. As she embraced Saidar, the ground moved and the mountain did indeed prove to be a volcano. She began to ready her weave with weaves of Air, Earth, Water, and Spirit. She split the weave of Earth and sent it into the volcano. She raised the earth around her to divert the oncoming lava at a wide angle. She wove the weave, careful to watch the lava, making sure that it didn’t go over the wall. Light, but it was hot! Her breathing became labored, but her face didn’t show the strain. As she expected, the lava did come over the wall of earth, but she sent split weaves of Water and Air at the molten earth until it hardened. Wanting to sigh in relief, she kept it away and finished the weave. When it was done, she looked around and noticed the lava around her was all hardened. There was also a good wide path leading to an opening of a cave with the six-pointed star on it. As she stepped over the hardened lava, she was glad for the boot. It was no longer hot enough to kill, but she could still feel the heat. She stepped off the lava and walked into the cave… Ay’Lira found herself in a small room in the Seven Towers. Next to her was a beautifully cut blue dress, a shift, and slippers to match. She dressed herself, and stepped out of the room. She had to find the last six-pointed star, and weave the hundredth weave. Stepping out of the room, she found herself in the servants quarters. She had spent so many happy days here with Benna. As she scanned the halls, she saw dark residue on the walls. Was it blood? Turning down the hall, she moved toward the main galleries and found that it was dried blood. The fall. She hadn’t been here since the fall. If she had, she would have gone into the Blight. Bodies were scattered everywhere. But not fresh ones. They were all decaying, not quite skeletons, and they all smelled terrible. She did not to look at the faces to see if she knew anyone. She just kept walking, dust and dried blood beginning to collect on her skirt. She was drawn to the throne room where the floor was absolutely littered with bodies. Some of the bodies were Trollocs and Myrdraal, but most of them were human. She tried not to think that her father would likely be one of them. In the middle of the floor, she found a six-pointed star etched out in black tiles against the predominant white. Ay’Lira wove around the bodies, keeping her eyes on the star. As she approached, she heard someone running toward her, shouting her name. Looking back, but not startled, she found her younger brother Teru. He was dirty, had a beard growing, and tears in his eyes. “Lira, you’re back! What are you doing here?” he asked as she continued to walk. “I have a purpose here,” she said simply, still moving to the star. “A purpose? What is it?” “I need to complete something.” “Well…can I help?” “No, this is something only I can do.” “When you’re finished…you can come live with us again. We’re living in Fal Moran now. I’m one of the defenders against the Blight, can you believe it?” There was a touch of excitement in his voice. The same little boy she had played with and taught archery to all those years ago… She bit back the tears. “No, I cannot. Tell mother and Benna that I love them, yourself as well,” she said as she stepped into the star and wove the last weave. When it was done, there was a spray of colors… And she was back in the room of the testing. She stumbled, but didn’t fall as she walked toward Valeri, but she didn’t go very far. She couldn’t believe how different Teru was. Out of all those memories, her brother as a desperate assassin and her brother as a proud defender of Fal Moran…which one had he become? Valeri’s clapping snapped her to attention. “It is done. Let no one ever speak of what has passed here. It is for us to share in silence with she who experienced it. It is done.” She clapped again. “Ay’Lira Sonoran, you will spend the night in prayer and contemplation of the burdens you will take up on the morrow, when you don the shawl of an Aes Sedai. It is done.” With that, she clapped yet again, and left the room. As the seven Sisters crowded her, they asked if she would like a Healing. Looking down, she saw herself covered in scrapes, cuts, and bruises. The Yellow Healed her after she accepted it, and almost let out a shout of the surprise of coldness. She dressed herself in her own clothes, putting on the ring first. The sisters escorted her to her room. It was late at night, and everyone was asleep when she came back to her room. After she ate the food left for her, she tried to pray and contemplate, but she was far too tired. She drifted off to sleep, not bothering to cover herself with her blankets, and not bothering to strip to her shift… Ay’Lira woke up perhaps three hours later, by her guess, and brushed her hair out, smoothing out of skirt. She drank some water, checked herself in the mirror, and sat back down on her bed. A smile crept up on her lips. She had passed the test. She passed! The enormity hadn’t quite hit her last night. But she woke up now, excited for what was to come. But she knew she still had to maintain her calm, so she allowed some of her pent-up giggles to escape. She caught her breath, schooling herself, and waited. A few minutes later, there were three knocks on the door. Standing, she walked to the door and opened it. A Red sister stood with six others, one for each Ajah. They stood in silence, but didn’t have to wait long for her to join them. They left with her and escorted her back to the room where she had tested. The Sitters from each Ajahs were there with one other sister there, holding a shawl. She couldn’t see all of it from where she stood at the doorway, but she knew the ceremony by heart. They were all shawled, and the Amyrlin and Keeper were stoled. “Who comes here?” asked the Amyrlin. “Ay’Lira Sonoran,” she answered. “For what reason do you come?” “To swear the Three Oaths and thereby gain the shawl of an Aes Sedai.” “By what right do you claim this burden?” “By right of having made the passage, submitting myself to the will of the Tower.” “Then enter, if you dare, and bind yourself to the Tower.” Ay’Lira entered, keeping her countenance, serene and confident. She walked through the now still ring, but when she walked through, she was still in the same room. She had halfway expected another test. She found her way to the Amyrlin and knelt. Now with the Oath rod in front of her, she channeled just a bit of Spirit. “Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow that I will speak no word that is not true. Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow that I will not make one weapon for one man to kill another. Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow that I will never use the One Power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme of defending my life, or that of my Warder, or another Sister.” Ay’Lira noticed that as she swore each Oath, her skin tightened. But again, she wasn’t surprised with the unexpected effect. She handed the Oath Rod back to the Amyrlin. The Amyrlin said, “It is half done, and the White Tower graven on your bones. Rise now, Aes Sedai, and choose your Ajah and all will be done that may be done under the Light.” Ay’Lira rose, now an Aes Sedai. No longer a “child”, and walked among the rows of sisters. When she had finally chosen her Ajah, she wondered to herself what took her so long to make that decision. But now she knew, no matter what hesitations she may have taken. And now she stood in front of the Greens, awaiting their words.
  25. Talina found her working in a small study alcove, deep in the Tower Library. She had four different books open, each one by a different author trying to explain how the nations fragmented after Artur Hawkwing died. Each theory seemed like a partial explanation, while none seemed to explain the entire situation. To Gera’s thinking, the only thing that could unite the theories to explain the thoroughness and duration of the collapse was a unifying direction that oversaw the entire collapse. Most scholars disregarded that possibility because the collapse lasted several centuries, but they did not account for the extended lifespan of a channeler. If an Aes Sedai, or Light forbid, a Dreadlord chose to intervene they could easily orchestrate the entire collapse. When Gera looked up and saw the Mistress of Novices standing there, she quickly got to her feet and curtsied to the appropriate degree. Ever since that rather thorough punishment for rudeness to a Sitter, Gera had respected the old biddy... even while she longed for the day when she would be her equal. “Gera Mondwin, it is time. You are called to be tested for the Shawl and ring. Are you ready?” There was just a hint of a challenge in her tone, as if she expected the older Accepted to fail, to ask for more time. “Yes, Talina Sedai, I am ready.” She put steel in her voice, respectful steel. “Then follow me.” The Mistress lead Gera deep into the Tower, along a similar path to the one she took a few years prior for her test to be raised Accepted. Inside the large room, Gera saw seven sisters waiting for them, all wearing their shawls proclaiming their ajahs. “Attend,” Talina’s word seemed to fill the chamber as the Aes Sedai formed a ring around the Mistress of Novices and Gera. “You come in ignorance, Gera Mondwin. How would you depart?” “In knowledge of myself,” was the only acceptable reply. “For what reason have you been summoned here?” “To be tried.” “For what reason should you be tried?” “So that I may learn whether I am worthy.” Gera knew that she was worthy of the shawl. She had to be. If she failed now, she would simply be an old spy mistress cast out into the world by the Tower. It was either succeed here, or relegate herself to a life of faded joys, her failure overshadowing everything else. She was worthy. “For what would you be found worthy?” “To wear the shawl.” Gera knew that hers would bear a blue fringe. At the word, Gera began disrobing, as she knew she must. Let the sisters in the room see her over-round flesh. She had lived her years. “Therefore I will instruct you. You will see this sign upon the ground.” Talina spoke, even as Gera stripped. She channeled, and a silver, six pointed star appeared in the air. As Gera nodded, she felt another woman channeling behind her, and a weave of spirit settled into the back of her head. It felt much like Healing. “Remember what must be remembered.” “When you see that sign, you will go to it immediately, at a steady pace, neither hurrying nor hanging back, and only then may you embrace the Power. The weaving required must begin immediately, and you may not leave that sign until it is completed.” “Remember what must be remembered.” That voice coming from behind was a minor irritation, but Gera ignored the irritation and focused on the instructions. “When the weave is complete, you will see that sign again, marking the way you must go, again at a steady pace, without hesitation.” “Remember what must be remembered.” “One hundred times will you weave, in the order you have been given and in perfect composure.” “Remember what must be remembered.” Gera felt those words had been etched onto each inch of her skull. She would not forget, the instructions or the words. Moving without signal, the seven sisters walked to the ter’angreal and knelt at its base. The pattern they wove of the power was incredible, and Gera felt a small bit of joy at the skill they obviously had. A task well performed was always a joyful thing. As the Power flowed into the ter’angreal, it began to rotate, slowly, colors flashing across the opening... faster and faster it moved, until suddenly the opening went solid white. That was her cue. Gathering her dignity, despite her nudity, Gera entered the ring. She was standing before the Amyrlin Seat, wearing her banded dress, all around Sitters glared. For some reason, they were deadly angry at her, and nothing she could do would change that. A quiet voice spoke behind her ear, “Remember...” Scanning the room, Gera found the six pointed star and walked toward it. A part of her heard the Sitters anger rising, but the more dominant part simply kept walking to the star. When she arrived, she began the appropriate weave. When it was finished, a blue coin appeared in the air where she had been weaving. Suddenly the Sitters stopped speaking, and Gera turned to walk toward the shining star. When her foot touched it, she found herself wading through hip-deep mud. She had never been in such a place, but she knew she hated it. There was a six pointed star to her left, so she walked toward it. With each step, she felt new disgusting things touch her, crawl on her, or attach themselves to her body. At the star, which was carved into a tree trunk, Gera wove the mandatory weave... and when it snapped into existence, she sighed. Had she made a mistake, she would have received a painful shock, which would only be made worse by the mud surrounding her. The next star was higher up in the tree, so she hoisted herself out of the mud and climbed for it. As her hand touched it, she found herself covered in mud in the middle of a ballroom. All around her were her friends, allies, and enemies. They were all dressed for a standard Cairhienin ball, but there she was wearing nothing but a thick layer of mud. In the center of the room, tiles described the six pointed star. Gathering her courage and the shreds of her dignity, Gera walked to the center of the room, ignoring the stares and snickers of the crowd. No one said anything to her directly, but she burned with the shame of walking in front of their stares. As she neared the star, their snickers and stares erupted into full laughter, and Gera’s shame burned brighter on her cheeks. She kept walking though, slowly and evenly. At the star, she wove, holding back tears. It went on. Each circumstance was worse than the last. There were some with physical pain, but Gera ignored those easily, so they stopped coming. It was as if someone noticed that the shameful scenarios caused her the most distress. In fact, during the 76th weave, she found herself in a bawdy dance hall, surrounded by girls and women wearing dresses so revealing that their cleavage ended a hand above where the slit in the skirts started. With each new scene, Gera forgot the details of why she was there and how, but a part of her remembered the shame. The weight of the shame kept growing. With each scene, her blush deepened, and it became harder to keep her composure. Shame was growing close to breaking her. The calm she wore on her face was a thin, brittle shell, but she still looked calm. She wasn’t sure why, but every part of her being was focused on maintaining her calm expression and steady pace. The shame and pain from each of the previous tortuous scenes had her wanting to weep, but she refused. She would not give up. The 84th weave came and went, with stinging nettles lashed across her back. The 96th involved walking through her son’s bedroom... while he bled to death. As soon as she reached the star and began that weave, she wove what little healing she was able to... but it was not enough. 97, 98, and 99 passed with simply variations on embarrassing situations in front of large crowds. Apparently, seeing her son die in front of her was enough to inure her to the shame. Weave number 100 created a fountain of sparks while Gera pulled a carriage by her own strength. Having a driver whipping her on added insult to injury... and yet more injury on top of the insult. Somehow, she managed to walk forward at a steady pace, despite pulling the carriage behind her. Gera suspected it might have been sheer willpower at that point. Once she finished the final weave and stepped onto the final six pointed star, the world around her vanished in a blinding light and she was back in the bowels of the Tower, surrounded by the seven Aes Sedai and Talina Sedai. The memories of the 100 different scenes suddenly crashed down on her, and Gera burst into tears. She cried in a way she hadn’t since she was a child. The Aes Sedai clustered around her, hugging and offering her their sympathy. One Healed her, without asking, but Gera was grateful anyway. Though physical pain was not their favorite in her tests, they still had used it. With a clap, Talina called the sisters back to attention. “Sisters, do you agree that Gera Mondwin, Accepted of the White Tower, has passed her test to prove her worthiness to wear our shawl and call us sisters?” Each of the women nodded, some more quickly than others, until the last held still. She was the Red sister, a bitter old thing, if Gera guessed properly. The Cairhienin woman knew she had blushed and that she’d nearly been broken, but she’d kept the appearance of calmness throughout the test. And the appearance was all that mattered, at least that is what they were taught. You could be a quivering wreck inside, so long as you kept your face neutral and your pace steady. An Aes Sedai must always be poised and ready to handle whatever situation came before her. It was much like playing Daes Dae’mar... just you were always surrounded by enemies and could never relax. It would be a hard life... but it would be hers. She had earned it. She had worked hard for years and passed this horrid test. It was a formality, waiting for the Red’s vote. The others had all agreed, but still every vote must be counted. Finally, she nodded, and Gera knew she would be Aes Sedai. The rest of the evening was a blur. Talina lead her back to her rooms, where a meal waited for her, and she was instructed to pray and meditate on her new life. After eating the meal, Gera decided to meditate by closing her eyes and laying down peacefully. Hours later, a knock interrupted her meditations, and she climbed off her bed. Outside her door was a group of Sisters, the Green, Blue, Yellow and Grey from the previous night’s testing. Silently, they formed a ring around Gera, and then all five began walking. The path was the same as it was the night before, but the room was markedly more full this morning. Inside were the Sitters of all seven Ajahs, the Keeper, and the most powerful woman in the world... the Amyrlin Seat. Despite having stood in front of her for judgment in both her tests, Gera had never actually met the woman. Today, the Amyrlin would welcome her home as one of her Aes Sedai. Passing through the ring, Gera moved to the Keeper and the Amyrlin. Words were spoken, but she didn’t remember them. Then it was time to take the oaths. Taking up the rod, held on a pillow by the Keeper, Gera channeled Spirit into the appropriate end. “Under the Light and by my hope of rebirth and salvation, I Gera Mondwin swear to speak no word that is not true. Under the Light and by my hope of rebirth and salvation, I Gera Mondwin swear to make no weapon by which one man may kill another. Under the Light and by my hope of rebirth and salvation, I Gera Mondwin swear never to use the One Power as a weapon, except against Darkfriends or Shadowspawn, or in the last defense of my life, the life of another sister, or the life of my warder.” With each clause, each phrase, Gera felt an invisible layer of power tighten down on her. She was truly bound now. After she set the Oath Rod down on its pillow, the Amyrlin and Keeper left, quietly. Looking at the groups of Sitters, Gera sighed. Now, to make another life changing decision. Really, there was only one choice for her. None of the others fit her properly, though the Grey and Red came close. She would be a Blue. As soon as the other Sitters recognized her intent, they dispersed, leaving Gera alone with the Blue Sitters, and one other sister. Gera recognized her as a rather recently raised woman. Smiling, Gera knelt in front of the women. “I seek to join the Blue Ajah. May I be admitted?”
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