Fiona Trakand
Thud.
Fiona unlaced her other boot and threw it, too, at the door, delighting in the obnoxiously loud noise it made. Then her hands scrambled for more objects, tossing them one by one. It turned into target practice in her mind, a mindless effort to get each object to hit a specific knot near the top of the door. Eventually everything she owned save for her bow and quiver had accumulated in a chaotic mess at the foot of the door that led out of the room she had shared with Sabine the night before. Left with nothing to distract her she sat still, struggling to come to terms with what had happened earlier that day.
She and Sabine had each come to Hama Valon with their own purpose. The Saldaean to seek for the Horn of Valere and Fiona with the secret dream of becoming Aes Sedai. They had each, in their own ironic way, been denied their dream. Sabine now wore white, and Fiona... the Andora threw herself back on her bed, staring up with blind eyes. She could not channel. The Mistress of Novices had been kind enough to humor her request for testing, but nothing could change the "no" that came from the Aes Sedai's mouth.
I will never be anything more than a pawn in the Great Game, she thought caustically. I may as well go home and marry Arlen Taravin before it is too late. Despite herself, she felt hot tears roll down her face and into her hair, her chest heaving as she struggled to control the sobs of frustration and disappointment that tore at her frame. She could not channel. She had lost her friend. Her friend had lost her freedom! Thanks to the Creator's odd sense of humor, every effort either of them had made until that point had been for naught.
No.
She stared at the ceiling through a blurry veil of tears, but inside her mind, an odd bubble of calm began to grow. No. There were other ways to make a difference. One had been offered to her mere hours before. The Grey Tower accepts women in our Yards, Mirin Sedai had said at the end of their interview, her eyes drifting to Fiona's bow. It is not the same as being able to channel, but our Gaidin do great things in their own right. Something to consider, child. The blonde girl had been too upset to give it much thought at the time, but now....
Pushing herself off the bed, Fiona walked to the corner and picked up her bow. It was simple, stout yew, and shorter than the average longbow to accommodate her height. Its shortened length also made it more difficult to string and draw, and most who saw her believed her incapable of doing either. Now she pulled the string from her pocket, and looped it over the top of the bow, pushing it past the knock, then flipped the wood, hooking the other loop over the nock at the bottom. She stepped between string and wood, braced the wood against her opposite leg, and bent it down until she could pull the top loop up to the nock. She turned to face the door, pulling the string back to her ear with the smooth economy of movement that only came with practice. I am stronger than I look.
Strong enough to be a Warder?
She paused, bow still pulled to her ear. She imagined her goals as the knot on the door, and her resolve as the bow that would drive the arrow of her existence into its center. Could she do it? I have never failed to reach a goal before. Thoughtfully, she hooked the wood around her leg and pulled the string free once more. She busied herself cleaning the mess she had made, then went down to the common room for her meal.
---
The Andoran took Sabine's possessions to the Grey Tower first. Mirin Sedai assured her that once the Saldaean had been raised they would be returned to her and with that Fiona had to be content. She shook her head and departed, asking the young man in gray at the massive front door where she might find the Master of Training. He bowed and pointed north. "He'll be near the Weaponry Hall unless I miss my guess," he said. "He has red hair- difficult to miss." She curtsied her thanks then lifted her chin, pushed her shoulders back, and set off down the indicated path.
Soon enough a large building separate from the Tower loomed before her. She glanced at it uncertainly, then asked a woman -also in gray- where she might find the weaponry hall. The woman had dark hair and a pleasant face; she waved for Fiona to follow her and set off. The Trakand hesitated a moment, then did as indicated, struggling to quell the sudden lurch in her stomach. That feeling only grew worse when they rounded the corner of the building and Fiona saw the clear signs of an explosion spread in every direction out from a ruined wall. A man in dark gray with blazing red hair stood near the hole holding something white that squirmed eagerly. As she watched, he bent and let it go, and it took off running. A puppy?
Her escort pointed, but Fiona didn't need the direction. "Thank you," she said breathlessly, then made her way toward the man. Ravak Darrow, she thought Mirin Sedai had said. The Master of Training. As she approached, the bundle of white fur he had been holding barreled toward her, tongue hanging out and tail waving. A puppy indeed. It ran circles around her, then rammed against the front of her skirts, yipping eagerly. Oddly comforted, the tiny woman squatted and greeted the tiny animal, tugging and pushing at it in the way dogs liked to play.
When she looked up, the man in gray stood on the opposite side of the fence, staring down at her with flat gray eyes. "If you're looking to petition the Aes Sedai, you may wish to try there," he said, waving toward the Tower. "Same goes if you're looking to become a novice. Or are you simply lost?" He whistled, and the puppy immediately disengaged from Fiona's hands, going to sit quietly at his feet.
"I am not lost," she said carefully, brushing her hands over her skirts to rid them of dog fur. "And I can't channel." Her lips twitched down. "I was actually looking for you.....Ravak Gaidin, right?" He nodded impatiently, but at least he looked at her again. "My name is Fiona.....Fiona Trakand." She suddenly felt extremely self conscious, and looked down, smoothing her skirts.
"What do you need, Lady Trakand?"
"I am not a lady!" She snapped, her voice rising in annoyance and her blue eyes flashing as she looked back up at him. A moment later she added in some consternation, "Very well. I am a Trakand, I suppose I am a lady. I don't want to be anymore." This is not going well. She gathered herself and stood, curtsying smoothly.
"I came to ask to join your training program," she said. "I wasn't told very much about how it works here, but I am good with a bow, and I learn fast and work hard at whatever I set my mind to. I know I am small, but...if you give me a chance I will not disappoint."