Black Spiders Weave Silver Webs [Attn: Craig]

[Jenny]

As a Blue sister of middling rank, Mirin's quarters consisted of a spacious bedchamber, a large sitting room, a dressing room, and a study. An outsider would describe her rooms as stately or handsome. Dark blue walls and lined with polished mahogany trim, complete with matching furniture. It did not look very lived-in; Mirin did not spend much time within her quarters.

But recently, these rooms were being used more often. Particularly the sitting room, because the Blue sister had finally decided to take on her first private student. And so, in one of the two plush chairs sat Accepted Elia. In the other, sat a young man, an outsider of the Tower.

Mirin paced the room with a file folder in her hands. The glow of saidar shone brightly around her. Wrapped in the warmth of saidar, she could see the minute changes in the man's expression, smell the nervous sweat on his palms, and hear the soft footsteps of her sisters in the hall. And she could sense the calm confidence exuding from Elia. The child would be called to the Great Stair soon, she thought.

She motioned with the folder. "Henrick, these papers will guarantee your freedom. You have my word as an Aes Sedai of the Grey Tower. But first, I will be using the One Power on you as I explained before. Do you agree?"

Henrick nodded stiffly. His dark eyes darted back and forth as though searching for escape. Mirin had found him sitting in a jail in Hama Valon, convicted of the murder of a girl. Was he actually a murderer? Mirin did not know and did not care. Such was the way of the world. If you had the power, then you could do as you wished. If not...

"Very good," she said. "This is Elia. She is an Accepted and will be learning today. Now, close your eyes, Henrick."

She waited until the man's eyes were closed tightly before weaving a ward of silence around him. She found that speaking of the details of Compulsion frightened her subjects, and it would be better if he did not hear these instructions.

"Let us continue on from our last lesson, Elia. Did you find time to practice? Never mind, we shall see. As I've said before, there are three levels to Compulsion: One, control of action. Two, control of memory. And three, control of motivation. Each step is a little more difficult than the previous. Today, I would like you to start with the control of action. We will work our way up. First, get him to talk. Second, make him do something that he would not like to do. I suggest using a candle, or perhaps the fireplace. We can simply Heal him before we proceed."

Mirin lifted the ward of silence, and then rewove it so that it covered the room. No one would be able to hear if he screamed. A cruel smile touched her lips. "Ready, Elia? Begin."

[Craig]

Elia ♫

Elia watched the man, Henrick, closely. She understood why he was here, and it thrilled her. Oh, she kept her excitement buried inside however. Maybe a little more easily hidden since her encounter with Dedicated Murdock. But still, he was here because of her. Because of what she could do. Those malachite gemstones took on a hard look. He would remember little, nothing to incriminate herself or her teacher.

That gaze softened as it moved to her teacher, the Mistress of Novices. That also made her brim with glee. Elia Darrow had risen up from amongst a sea of white, and had been chosen by the Blue sister. Mirin Sedai was one of the most powerful people at the Tower, maybe the third most important sister after the Amyrlin Seat and the Keeper of the Chronicles. And I was found worthy of her private tutelage! Elia had been in the apartments of a number of sisters before, but Mirin's always struck her as the most important and the most elusive.

The beautiful Accepted watched as Mirin Sedai reentered the room, a folder in hand, the aura of saidar around her. When the man was warded, Mirin turned her attention to Elia. "Today, I would like you to start with the control of action. We will work our way up. First, get him to talk." She heard the rest, but that was what she had to focus on first. "Ready Elia? Begin."

At this moment, just at the start of these private lessons, she went through the simple novice's trick of imagining herself as a flower bud. She was always a golden rose, radiant and beautiful in the life-affirming warmth of saidar. A smile covered her face - Elia found herself at peace showing emotions around Mirin Sedai - as she spun out the first parts of this weave of Spirit. Silver light shone as she made a lattice of saidar, turning it around on itself until it formed a whip-like shape. It was all a case of subtlety with how she used it from here on out.

Elia licked her lips a little nervously. "Henrick, is it?" Henrick stared back, his dark brown eyes wide. He was frightened, as well he should be in the private chambers of an Aes Sedai of the Grey Tower. Idly, Elia wondered how he had gotten here without mention. A worry for later. "My name is Elia." She maybe didn't need to have a rapport with the man, but it could help. "Do you have a last name, Henrick?"

His eyes glanced between the two women, uncertainly. For a moment, she got the impression he was looking for a way out, or possibly considering how to handle the two channellers. Elia's lips quirked in a grin. Mirin Sedai did not have a Warder, but the concept of running away past two trained channellers, into a Tower full of Aes Sedai and Asha'man and Gaidar: he didn't have a chance. But you're still looking for a way out. "Why do you want to escape, Henrick?" This time she used the Power, a pinprick of Spirit working its way out from her weave into his head. He garbled something unintelligible, as if resisting his own tongue. She struck out at him again. "Why do you want to escape?"

"I killed a girl." He spluttered it out like it was being forced out of him. That it had been was no excuse for the spittle that went flying. Elia brushed the saliva from her cheek, returning such a harsh glare that Henrick swallowed hard.

"Less phlegm, this time." The Shienaran wasn't even aware of how hard her voice had become. "You killed a girl. How old was she?" Henrick's eyes widened, and he shook his head in protest. It was amusing, watching the man squirm so. Amusing because it was pointless.

Elia paused on the point of using Spirit on him again. Compulsion had its drawbacks, especially repeated use. Mirin Sedai's warnings had been well understood, more so after Murdock's spree of madness. The Accepted rose, rubbing at the arm that had been so badly Rended, and moved over to a table. She picked up the candle holder, lit the wick with a brief spark of Fire, and brought it back over to Henrick. "Hold this," she commanded. The man took the candle holder in one hand, eyes still scanning for a way out.

Elia settled back in the comfy chair, a smirk forming on her face, but her voice was all so sweet. "Now Henrick, this arrangement is very simple. You can answer my questions, and the questions of this Aes Sedai, or..." She glanced at the small flame at the tip of the candlestick. He too looked at it, then sought a place to put it down. Spirit struck out. "No." Her voice was like iron. "You shall hold it there in your right hand, and you will place your left hand above it. Yes, yes, just there. Perfect." The murderer's palm would only get uncomfortably hot at that height, but as Mirin had foretold, he would likely need Healing at this end of this endeavour. "Now, where was I? Ah yes, the girl. How old was she?"

[Jenny]

Mirin's eyes glittered as she expertly examined Elia's weaves. Compulsion was as much an art as a science, and rarely did two weaves work the exact same way. Insignificant details, she thought. Elia's weaves were effective enough - what the Accepted did with them was just as important. She nodded approvingly as Elia used the candle to further manipulate the man. Clever, to include a psychological element in her efforts to elicit information.

"Sixteen," Henrick gasped. "She was sixteen." His eyes now remained focused on the candle. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. Mirin sensed that, deep down, he knew that he shouldn't desire this, yet the Compulsion twisted something within him to want to keep his hand above the flame. She could see the sick sense of fascination in his expression as he watched his own hand burning.

"And why did you murder her?" asked Mirin.

"It was an accident. I was planning to run away from my apprenticeship. She wanted me to stay and threatened to tell my master. I became angry... and I hit her, just wanted to scare her a bit... I didn't mean to kill her!"

Now that the man had confessed to the murder, Mirin suddenly felt a rising sense of scorn. She fought against the feelings, breathing deeply until she regained her calm. She was not a Red, eager for revenge. No, she had colder dreams to pursue.

"Excellent work, Elia," she said. "Let us move on to the second step: memory. Please proceed."

[Craig]

Elia

Elia felt a touch of bile rise in her chest; the man's reason for his crime was repulsive. You murdered a girl, because you wanted to run from your duty. As a Shienaran, that stung. The man was a base rogue, not worthy of the attentions of an Aes Sedai and an Accepted. Not unless they were going to fix him. If anything, that made Elia actually feel nauseous. She may have already fixed someone in that way, and if so she never wanted to do it again. Without realising, she was rubbing at her previously Rended arm again.

Memory. She had wiped memories before, albeit not with as fine a control as she could play around with emotions. The whip of saidar vanished, to be replaced by a new one, the structure different in a way hard to place into words. It was not a lattice of Spirit she had used, but a coiling structure with prickly outcroppings. Barbed was maybe the term. It didn't look as elegant a design, and it was a blunter tool, at least in her hands.

She removed the candle from Hendick's grasp, realising a little too late to undo that particular Compulsion. Then she worked Spirit, lashing out at him as if the barbed whip was a viper striking out. A blunter tool, but then, who would believe some criminal about being treated to an audience with the Mistress of Novices. No-one with half a brain. She stuck at the parts of his mind that controlled recent events. She had less experience with this, but the man should have a fuzzy recollection about the last few hours. He wouldn't come out of this surprised to be in the room, but he couldn't have recalled the events that preceded this moment.

The glazed look at had covered Hendick's face the moment she started faded. He blinked uncertainly. Elia channelled the briefest amount of Air to snuff out the candle, then rested the holder on the arm of the chair carefully. The Shienaran forced her face to appear warm and friendly. "Fal Dara," she said, as if answering a question, "by the Blightborder." Best to distract the man before he thought too much about his present situation. Elia glanced back at Mirin, looking for a sign of approval from the Blue sister.

[Jenny]

A furrow formed between Mirin's brow. Her head tilted to the side.

"Not bad. But crude. That leaves him with little recollection of our conversation, but he may find the fuzziness of his memory strange and begin to put two and two together. You can do better."

She wove Spirit, Air, and Water together to probe the man's mind, and then with Spirit she wove the reverse of Elia's weave. Two strands here. Twist here. A loop, and another twist. A knot. There. Elia's weave disappeared. Suddenly, Henrick leapt up and ran for the door. Flows of Air wrapped around his arms and legs and lifted him from the ground. Mirin grunted a little with the effort - lifting a man was no easy task - and brought him back to the chair.

"Sit," she said, gently. Henrick screamed.

"You witch!"

Mirin sighed, and then stuffed his mouth with Air.

"Observe." She drew deeply on saidar, loving the feeling of joy and life as the Power flowed through her. Silver threads of Spirit came spinning out from that well of Power. Water and Air, as well, twined themselves throughout the weave.

"Detail," she continued. "Compulsion is all in the details. Henrick, what has happened in the last few minutes?" As soon as she removed the gag of Air, he spat at her. The spittle landed on her finely woven carpet.

"Witch!"

She strode up to him and slapped him violently across the cheek. Then she jerked his head up by his hair. "You will not speak to me that way. Remember, Henrick, you are walking on the edge between life and death. These papers could easily end up in the fire. This is your final warning. Resist again and... " She smiled maliciously and Henrick's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"Do you understand me, Henrick?"

He struggled for a few moments and then abruptly broke down sobbing.

"I'll take that for a yes. So. What do you think has happened in the last few minutes?"

Henrick muttered something unintelligible.

"Really? That's not what I remember," said Mirin. She prodded him with her weave as she spoke. "You were having a very pleasant conversation with the Accepted Elia. She asked about your family and your work. And your lover. You wept as you spoke of your lover. Then the conversation steered toward recent local politics and... oh, you asked where Elia was from. Remember, Henrick?"

She swung the weave forward, wrapping the man's head in those strands of silver. Henrick shivered. His tears stopped, and he blinked blearily at Elia. Mirin released the bindings of Air and watched him carefully for signs that he would flee.

"I... yes, I remember. Missus Elia, is it? And you are from Fal Dara. A beautiful, strong city. It has been a very pleasant conversation," he said. He touched his cheeks, and his fingers came away wet. "I was crying? I... why... oh I see. I told you about my dear Berowyn. My poor dear Berowyn. I was the one who found her dead. Did I tell you that? My sincere apologies, Aes Sedai. My emotions don't seem... what I mean, Aes Sedai, is that it has been a very difficult time for me recently. Very difficult, indeed."

Mirin nodded sympathetically. "Yes, Henrick, it certainly has," she said. The kindness in her voice seemed strange given the coldness of her eyes. "I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I would love to continue visiting with you but unfortunately our time is at an end. Here, let me give you your papers. Please enjoy your travels."

-----

After the man left, Mirin stepped carefully over the dried spittle on her carpet. She would call a servant later, to clean that out. She settled down in the chair that Henrick had left.

"Well, Elia? Thoughts?"

[Craig]

Elia

It was quite the rush of adrenaline, watching the Blue sister haul the man across the room with Air, then striking and handling the man in a such a physical display of power. Elia felt the buzz as if she was the one handling the man, toying with him really. The smile that appeared on her face was elated, and her respect for Mirin grew even more than seemed possible. It was admiration, pure and simple.

When the Mistress of Novices bought the man back to reality, Elia saw just how adept Mirin was at controlling a situation. There was a mother's sympathy in those grey eyes, and her clipped accent held a sense of shared grief. Did she learn all of this in the cradle in Cairhein, or had this come after she was raised to the shawl? Elia hoped it were the latter, so that she too could direct people as masterfully as Mirin did.

Arranging her dress carefully, the Cairhienin sat opposite the beautiful Accepted. "Well Elia, thoughts?"

Elia mind drew back to the admonishment made. She brought her hands together in the centre of her lap, very much the picture of a dutiful pupil. "I have some ways to go before I can affect memory with the same level of control as you can, Mirin Sedai. I should like to practice that, if there is another opportunity. A man such as Henrick in this situation may not be believed, but if I was working on a more important person, or one with a more astute head on their shoulders... Well, I see the need for improvement."

The Shienaran glanced around the room, biting down on her lower lip as she gathered her thoughts. "You were able to undo my weave on him, Mirin Sedai, and immediately he acted as if he had never been affected. But how long does it take for a weave to dissipate naturally? I wouldn't wish for anyone to detect my handiwork, not even long after the fact."

[Jenny]

Elia's questions were not simple, and Mirin took her time answering them.

"When Compulsion is used for simple instruction and recent memory - the first two levels - it fades very quickly," she explained. "Within an hour or two, and certainly within a day. This is because the weave is not necessary to constantly monitor and modify behavior. As soon as the mind accepts its new reality and shifts those thoughts into long term memory, it continues on as normal. But when we move on to manipulating core motivation and personality, the weaves remain behind. They are usually made to influence the person - forever.

"Like other weaves, Compulsion can last indefinitely when tied off. And here lies a problem. Anyone with moderate skill in Delving will be able to detect those weaves. This is one of the reasons why we have not used heavy Compulsion. The other reason is that it replaces the person's personality, leaving them a mere shell of themselves. If the Compulsion is stripped away, the person will be unable to function. He or she will die. The damage is irreversible."

Her thoughts flew to the first person whom she had seen with heavy Compulsion placed on his mind.

"I tried it once," she said, quietly. "Only once. I removed heavy Compulsion from a boy who had been brought to the Tower infirmary many years ago. I was an Accepted, then. The boy died within the hour.

"I think of it as a reminder that there must be others who know the weave. I do not know who, or why, they do what they do, but I have seen their victims." Her thin lips curved unpleasantly and her eyes glittered with unconcealed worry.

"Be careful, Elia."

((OOC: I searched the internet and read the sections regarding Compulsion in the books. Those sources don't delve into much detail, so I made stuff up. Yay creativity!))

[Craig]

Elia

Hearing that she had not been the only one to mishandle her ability brought some slight amount of relief to Elia's heart, although the warning that had come along with it. I have to be more careful in future. That meant two things. The first was that her little experiment with Murdock had to remain a one-off. In that meeting, she had been far too brazen. She needed to use a softer hand in the future. The second point was that she needed to be wary. She had been, she thought, making sure never to use Compulsion anywhere near a woman, channeller or not. Elia had only used it in Murdock's room, and in the Warder Halls, behind closed doors. And with Mirin's answers, all evidence of her work would be gone by now.

"Thank you, Mirin Sedai. I think I understand a little better of the dangers, now." The Accepted was full of appreciation, although a dark cloud did settle over her mood. "Wait, you said... Others know the weave? But you don't know who?" Now that was a danger, and not just because someone could ferret out her own gift. Compulsion was forbidden, and anyone who used it without Mirin's awareness... "We're not, I mean, you're not suggesting there are-" She swallowed hard. "Darkfriends? Dreadlords, even?"

OOC: I figured there was another post in this.

[Jenny]

Mirin grimaced. She did not like it when her students asked about the presence of the Shadow in the Tower. Her own innocence had been ripped from her too soon. She preferred to maintain the façade that the Tower was a bastion of Light. And she thought that her students had rather enough to worry about without the threat of evil distracting them from their studies. But Elia was close to being raised to the Shawl. The Accepted would learn the truth of the matter before too long.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps the White Tower has sent spies. Or there are other sisters or brothers of the Tower who have discovered it and have fewer scruples about using it. Unpleasant talk, child. Not important for our lesson. I simply wanted to make sure you were aware that if you ever meet someone under a high level of Compulsion, there is nothing that can Heal them. It is better to place them out of their misery."

The Blue sister sighed and rubbed her temple. "Anything else, Elia? Now I feel an inexplicable urge to wash my mouth out with soap. Heavy Compulsion is a wicked thing."

[Craig]

Elia

Spies. Yes, Elia knew that the White Tower had spies, from when she followed the Keeper of the Chronicles out into Hama Valon. They did little to quell her concern. Although, if Compulsion was widespread or widely-used, someone would have caught onto it by now. Just be careful and frugal. That was the path forward, if she didn't want to give up on using Compulsion entirely.

The Accepted saw Mirin's tiredness, and at the suggestion of ending things, she jumped up to her feet. "No, nothing else, Mirin Sedai. Thank you." She bobbed a curtsy. "I will be wary, more so than I have already been. Thank you again."

The tired smile that lit up Mirin's face was the signal to leave, and Elia went to retrieve her bundle of papers from near the door. They were a wild assortment of notes he had taken throughout her time at the Tower, and served as a reason and explanation as to why she was seeing the Mistress of Novices in her private quarters. Closing the door softly behind her, Elia made the now familiar journey back to her quarters into the Indigo Ajah's section of the Tower, amongst the other Accepted and Dedicated.

OOC: Done! Thank you Jenny!