Elia
There was a strong temptation, especially after that little spat, to make Fiona swear an Oath to keep silent in her presence. Trying to explain to me what I have? I've seen more than your pretty little brain could appreciate. Elia resisted that urge, taking the Oath Rod back from the petulant Green. "Don't ever presume to tell me what to do, child."
Ter'angreal in hand, Elia walked uneasily to the other side of the room. She turned the slender white rod in her hands, one pale as snow, the other blackened and withered. The Light and the Shadow. The Oath Rod had ensured the allegiances of both sides since before the Grey Tower had existed. Hers had not been a willing choice when she swore to wait for the Dark One's return, but once sworn, that had been it.
Taking a seat in the couch at the far end of the room, Elia scoffed. She'd had access to the Oath Rod for years. If it was really just a matter of availability, she would have forsworn the Oaths long ago. She was an unwilling pawn in all of this, albeit a powerful pawn. If it was just a case of channelling and saying a few words...
She turned the ter'angreal over in her hands. Since swearing on it, Elia had always wanted to be free. In the beginning, she begrudgingly accepted her fate. She was evil, so she set out to maim and destroy and kill. It had taken a toll on her soul. She soon lost belief in ever returning to the naïve Accepted she'd once been. The only way through the darkness was to embrace it. Soon her former mentor was dead to her schemes, then the previous Supreme Leader was brought low through her direct intervention. Power placed a balm over the corruption of her spirit.
Power. Green eyes looked at the desk at the far end of the room. She was the most powerful woman in the Grey Tower, and competed with queens and panarchs and high ladies. The number of people who could assume to be her equal would fit inside this office with room to spare.
Looking down towards her lap, the tear in her dress drew her eye. The First Blade wants what I have. Elia didn't know if that meant the Amyrlin Seat or being Supreme Leader, but the message was clear. Whoever the First Blade was, he wasn't interested in her as a person. Coercion or Compulsion or just normal manipulation could have brought her to heel. No, he wanted her position for himself, or for one of his lackeys. Picturing Audreyn or Joane as the Amyrlin would have been laughable yesterday, but they both had the same powerful benefactor. Ambition explained why they were willing to kill her in the middle of the day. Ambition would ensure that they would try their hand at it again.
Placing the Oath Rod on her lap, Elia slid her Great Serpent ring off her finger and placed it on the couch beside her. She took hold of the Oath Rod again, gripping it tightly in her left hand.
"Dax, Fiona. Oh sorry, Dax, release her." She had completely blanked the waves of dread and panic that nestled in the back of her head, assuming them to be her own. Apologies would need to come later, however. She quickly had both of their attentions, and she raised her hand for both of them to see the Oath Rod.
"I'm ready to forswear all of the oaths that bind me." The thought filled her with some of Dax's shared dread. Elia had borne witness to countless Darkfriends forswearing their Oaths. For those that had only been Oathsworn for a few hours, the discomfort of removing their Oaths was soon forgotten. Others, who had walked in the Light for years, had screamed until their throats were raw and their stomachs were empty. After twenty-five years, Elia knew she was going to lean more towards the latter camp than the former.