The Grey Tower

Saffiah was having absolutely none of Illyria’s avoidance. The Indigo smiled with clear misery, she fiddled with her hands and blushed a bit, she continued to nag Saffiah about the state of her rooms, even though the Green had been living out of a bloody tent for the last decade and couldn’t give a ...

The relief that Saffiah felt upon airing her failures to Silas was substantial, but not nearly enough to soothe her wounded pride. What she would pay to be able to see inside his head- his reaction was restrained in the usual Asha’man way. The scolding, too, was restrained; while his words were firm ...

The Aes Sedai had dreaded, above all else, reporting her complete failure to her higher-ups. Her time away from the Tower had been all for naught, and each time one of her fellows inquired about how she had been spending her time, she was forced to admit that the grand Darkfriend conspiracy she had ...

The person who answered the door was much the same as he was so long ago. The bags that hung under Silas’ eyes had probably never left him, and he was wearing the same rumpled coat that he had worn every time Saffiah had seen him. It was a bit shocking that Illyria hadn’t held the man down and taken ...

When Saffiah had found herself back in the Tower after nearly a decade spent in the Waste, she had expected some changes. A few departures, a few arrivals, raisings, a few more additions to the expansive library, perhaps, but not for her one-time best friend to be pregnant and married. And for the ...

The two had always had a sort of understanding about how the other dealt with emotional distress. Illyria would mull it over for days and let it brew and try to understand it, but Saffiah made a habit of immediately depositing all feelings in a waste bin and never discussing them again. And though ...

Illyria, though visibly jarred by Saffiah’s bluntness, entered with a slight but welcoming smile. Years in the Tower often meant years of only hearing words with two meanings and thinly veiled jabs. It was the way of an Aes Sedai to disguise curtness with flowers and bows, something Saffiah had no ...

In spite of herself, Saffiah found herself rubbing her forefinger and thumb against each other in quick succession, her callouses numb to touch. She looked down at her hands, at the peeling, sunburned skin and plentiful freckles, and tore them apart. It was absolutely ridiculous that she was nervous ...

The room was a bit smaller than Saffiah had remembered, but perhaps it was because it was a far cry from the vast desert she had grown so accustomed to. She had the sense that the space was not her own- she had forgotten its peculiarities, which floorboards creaked when stepped on and which window ...

Thanks for the welcome, everyone! It's great to be back