Illyria Malkom
"Illyria," Carraidhin said coolly, utterly expressionless and indecipherable, and the Mistress of Novices returned her stare levelly. Not many Aes Sedai had the right to address her so aloofly; not many sisters could wield as much of the Power as she could unaided, but the Indigo supposed that Carra was not at fault for what she could not possibly know. "I suppose we have known each other long enough," she continued, "You may call me Carra if you wish. I had hoped for some sleep before more conversation but if we must, I have some tea stashed away to help use through a conversation."
"We'll take tea in my office," she said, thinking that her parlor would not be the best place for conversation, "Do you have a favorite brew?" Carraid-... Carra might have done the unthinkable, but she still was Aes Sedai. And Aes Sedai were entitled to something more luxurious than the bitter black tea that the Novices drank. Carra gave her answer in that same measured tone, and Illyria nodded. That could certainly be arranged. She smiled thinly, meticulous in her effort to not betray her unease, and led the taller woman in silence.
They reached her office, and the simple Ward she had placed upon her door was sliced cleanly; though the Yellows warned that pregnancy would deter her ability to embrace and weave, it had yet to interfere. Candles sparked to life as the door swung open, casting long shadows in the sparsely furnished office, and held the door open for a moment, letting Carra pass, and then locked it behind her. She followed the newest sister quickly, letting her take a seat in the chair opposite of the desk, and took the tea set from where it rested on a deep shelf. Saidar filled the teapot, materializing into water, and was boiling only a moment later. Illyria turned back to the shelf, where little vials of loose leaf sat, labeled with her careful hand: the bitter brew was for novices, but every variety of tea from the Westlands was here to bribe the new arrivals with a taste of home.
She found the tea Carra had requested, and dumped its contents into the teapot. “Strong or weak brew, sister?” Carra answered tersely, and Illyria tipped the vial accordingly. It would need to steep for a good ten minutes. Until it was ready, she could begin with the basics. She took her seat fluidly, and folded her hands on the cold surface of her desk.
“What I am about to tell you is a collection of knowledge that is not shared with anyone that has not proved themselves worthy of the shawl. It is not to be shared, nor hinted at to anyone who has not ascended the Great Stair. First, as you have observed tonight, tradition is rarely broken, and there is always punishment for it. In fact, by all accounts, I should have left you to flounder. Tower tradition is as strong as law. There is more that bind Aes Sedai of all Ajahs than just the Three Oaths.”
“But before we begin, I can offer you a little Healing. I know how uncomfortable the Oath Rod leaves one. Would you like for me to ease it?” Carra was silent, staring coldly for a long minute, but Illyria did not relent. She returned her stare blankly, waiting for an answer.
“Yes,” Carra said flatly, and Illyria was silent. The necessary weave was constructed and then laid on her forehead. She seemed to be relieved as the Healing settled, but it was only for a fraction of an instant that her composure slipped; Illyria could not be sure that she had seen it at all.
“First: We are ranked by strength with the One Power. Should you wish to build your Ajah at all, and not be tossed from the Hall of Sitters, or sent to me for penance, you will submit to those who are stronger than you. Those who are weaker are required to submit to you. I doubt you will remember Rane,” Illyria mused, “Or that you let her know that she needed to stand up for herself after you served us tea, but that was an example of Tower hierarchy in action; she’s weaker than I, and so, she must serve. Depending upon the gap of strength between you and the sister in question, the greater or lesser the gap in rank is. Someone who is barely strong enough to be Aes Sedai, for example, would have to outright follow your orders. Someone who is only slightly weaker than you, however, would only have to politely listen to your suggestion, and could ignore it if she wished.”
The tea still steeped, and scent that rose with the steam was taunting, but she left it be for now: it wouldn’t taste any better than dishwater at this point. She waited silently for Carra to digest the first part of the lecture, outlining the rest of what was sure to be a lengthy evening in a linear fashion. Her first few years as Aes Sedai would be more difficult than her years as Accepted had ever been, especially considering that she did not have an Ajah to support her. Illyria was no substitution for a welcoming faction, but she felt bound to do what she could to make sure that Carra at least had a chance of swimming and would not sink outright.
