Hide in Plain Sight [attn: Avyra]

[Sunny]

Jaryd Kosari

In place of his physical caretaker, Jaryd now had a new presence in his head, a constant reminder that the choice to live had been taken from him. Zeen did not hesitate to use the bond to enforce what he believed to be acceptable behavior. If not for the guilt and true caring that the Altaran felt every time Spirit touched the bridge between them he might have hated the big Green. As it was, anger still bubbled up, and he avoided his friend as much as Zeen would allow. Someday, perhaps, he would be willing to talk about it...but not then.

Thus it was that six months after the death of his love and bondmate and his summary removal from the Triumvirate, Jaryd Kosari found himself pulling the scraps of his life back together. When he began to unpack his possessions he found piles of his journals, carefully wrapped and apparently untouched. Only a fool would believe that prying eyes had not glanced through those pages, but the information within was protected by a cypher that would have taken more than a few hurried minutes to untangle.

Those books held decades of research, a combination of his own studies, Kaia’s, and even some he had gleaned from what Carra had left behind when she disappeared. Dates. Events. Names. Locations. Vague descriptions…all of it carefully organized for ease of reference. One set of journals contained information about possible Shadowsworn activity, and another set contained information about channelers, both Tower and non-Tower. A third set, triple-ciphered and carefully hidden inside false covers, held information about both.

The information was not complete; in his foolish display of temper before his captivity he had destroyed a great deal of his work. However, it was a start; something to focus on so he did not fall down the hole that had once been Kaia. He began to add current events to what he knew, and gradually a pattern began to develop. The center of this particular net was in Cairhien. Again? He felt sick, but...the Red Ajah had a duty, and it was long past time for him to shoulder the burden once more.

Two days before the Feast of Lights, Jaryd sent a servant to fetch Avyra Moeryr to his quarters. When she arrived, he gestured for her to take a seat in one of the arm chairs near his window, then settled in the other just across from her. “Thank you for coming, Avyra,” he said. They exchanged small pleasantries as they settled, but he could nearly taste her curiosity. “I am sure you want to know why I brought you here," he said finally as he pulled the tea tray over to settle on the table between them with a flow of Air. "I need someone small, outspoken, and familiar with Cairhien, who could pose as my….little sister, in a manner of speaking...and assist me in a Red Ajah investigation.”

He poured her a cup of tea, and handed it to her with spidery, scar-laced fingers. “What we will do will be unpleasant at times and may be frightening, but I give you my word you will be safe from harm, and your assistance would be invaluable. Are you interested?”

[Avyra]

Avyra

She honestly didn't know why she was here. Called to the former M'hael's office for unknown matters, another man who had been a suspected Darkfriend on that sheet of paper with Mirin Sedai. Avyra almost said no, but she figured that making that choice would have been a mistake. She knocked and entered, curtsying as she did so, trying to keep from shaking. Avyra had never, ever, spoken to Asha'man Jaryd before. In fact, this was her first time meeting him. He was thin, with dark curly hair and dead eyes. Avyra didn't like the look of this man. He motioned for her to sit. She did so without question. "Thank you for coming, Avyra.” A silence fell. She didn't know if she was allowed to speak. "I am sure you want to know why I brought you here," he finally spoke to break the silence, drawing a tea tray over with a skillful flow of Air. "I need someone small, outspoken, and familiar with Cairhien, who could pose as my….little sister, in a manner of speaking...and assist me in a Red Ajah investigation.” As he spoke, he poured her a cup of tea, passing it over with long, skeletal fingers. An investigation? She raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak. Why did he think she would be useful? Surely there was someone more qualified. “What we will do will be unpleasant at times and may be frightening, but I give you my word you will be safe from harm, and your assistance would be invaluable. Are you interested?” Was she interested? She really didn't want to go anywhere with this man. In fact, she wanted out of his creepy office. But something about his offer... "I am," she said. "Regardless of the danger. I would not turn down an opportunity to prove myself worthy, Asha'man Jaryd." She paused, trying to read his expression. "But I would like to know what it is we are to do before making up my mind. What kind of investigation, and how can I possibly be of any help?" She hoped she hadn't overstepped some kind of unsaid boundary.

[Sunny]

Jaryd

Jaryd watched as Avyra thought about what he had said. She did not drink her tea, and her eyes stayed focused on him. Green eyes. Not quite the same as Kaia’s, and yet something of the same fierceness shone there….and fear. She was afraid of him. Long lashes dropped to block her from his sight, the Void snapping around him as he fought to control another outpouring of grief. He felt a surge of frustrated concern over the bond and then Zeen vanished. Jaryd took a breath and looked at his new companion once more.

The Accepted spoke then, bringing him back to the present. Her questions did not surprise him, but the odd note of uncertainty in her voice before she fell silent did. How can I possibly be of any help, she had said, as if used to being delegated to uselessness. That concern seemed at odds with what information he had gathered on her in preceding weeks, and he filed it away for later consideration.

For the moment the Red had more pressing concerns. He set his teacup on the tray untouched and rose to go to the desk that sat in one corner. It faced the wall so he did not have to contemplate the emptiness of a room more than large enough for two while he worked. Almost he got sucked into the blackness of that memory. Almost. He curled his hand into a fist, fingernails biting hard into his palm, and snatched a document from the collection that covered the dark wood surface. Then he rejoined the Accepted.

“We will be hunting a Dreadlord,” he said as he found his seat again. She set her cup down sharply and stared at him, and he made a quick gesture with his fingers. “We will not be fighting the Dreadlord, Avyra. All we will be doing is information gathering. I’ve finally identified the next step in my search, and it’s in Cairhien. I can’t do it alone, however- that is where you come in.” She made a disbelieving noise, and he sighed, looking down at the paper. Kaia’s writing covered half the page, some words blurred by dried tears. His own scrawl covered the rest.

“Channelers who have sworn their service to the Dark One are hard to track down,” he told her quietly. “They swear oaths to protect his interests...and they have their own ambitions and plans to care for as well. They often hide in plain sight, and frequently pose as a figure that their surrounding community loves and trusts.” Abruptly he realized he spoke not to another Red, nor even to an Aes Sedai, but to one of the Accepted. A girl who could not possibly be older than twenty five, who had good reason to have nightmares for years given what he had just told her. How often did an Asha’man just up and admit that Dreadlords existed? Never. Even the Red Ajah cited less extreme reasons for their existence when asked. “I apologize,” he said quietly. “I do not mean to frighten you.” His fingers tightened on the paper.

“I need to go to Cairhien and pose as a refugee in the Foregate to pursue the lead I found,” he told her. “While I am there, I will need an assistant who can help me maintain that cover. I need someone who is familiar with Cairhien. Someone who fits in in ways that I certainly would not,” he gestured to his dark skin and curls with a slight smile. “Someone who can listen to rumors and put together clues from what she hears, who can garner sympathy in one breath and start a distracting argument or fight with the next. Someone who, if the situation indicated necessity, could crawl through a window and open a door for me.”

He smoothed the paper over his knee. “Are you still interested? I understand if you are not. That is quite a lot to swallow at once.”

[Avyra]

Avyra watched and listened, gauging his reaction. He didn't seem offended by her words but he wasn't fully nuetral. Did she see a glimmer of sadness in those dark eyes? She didn't push it. Jaryd put his cup down, moving off to one wall, picking off some paper on the desk. She watched, but his back was to her, and she couldn't see or read him. But, shortly, he made his way back, setting down the paperwork on the desk before her before taking a seat again. “We will be hunting a Dreadlord." She snapped her cup down, luckily no where near strong enough to break it. His tone was almost dismissive, as though he just suggested that they were about to have a picnic. “We will not be fighting the Dreadlord, Avyra." She didn't see how that made it better. "All we will be doing is information gathering. I’ve finally identified the next step in my search, and it’s in Cairhien. I can’t do it alone, however- that is where you come in.” She still didn't see how. She huffed softly, but didn't reply yet. “Channelers who have sworn their service to the Dark One are hard to track down,” he told her quietly. “They swear oaths to protect his interests...and they have their own ambitions and plans to care for as well. They often hide in plain sight, and frequently pose as a figure that their surrounding community loves and trusts.” She felt her stomach clench. Mirin Sedai. She had probably murdered Seonin. Her expression was wideyed. “I apologize,” he said quietly, as though realizing his mistake. “I do not mean to frighten you.” That was too late. “I need to go to Cairhien and pose as a refugee in the Foregate to pursue the lead I found. While I am there, I will need an assistant who can help me maintain that cover. I need someone who is familiar with Cairhien. Someone who fits in in ways that I certainly would not." Yeah, he obviously wasn't Cairhienin. She didn't want to know how this whole little sister thing was going to work. “Someone who can listen to rumors and put together clues from what she hears, who can garner sympathy in one breath and start a distracting argument or fight with the next. Someone who, if the situation indicated necessity, could crawl through a window and open a door for me.” Avyra considered this for a moment. "And that's me? You think that's me?" She smoothed out her skirts. "I don't see how." She paused. "I'm honored, but surely there are better Accepted to use. You'll find that I'm not much of anything, Asha'man Jaryd." But she wanted to help. She wanted to be important. She knew this offer was an amazing one; one she would likely never get again. Maybe he thought she'd make a good Red? That was doubtful. "I'm sorry. I want to help, but I don't think I'd be good at what you're asking. I didn't grow up in Cairhienin nobility; I have never been to a large Cairhienin city, even. I probably know just as much as you. I can't crawl through windows and do all that. I'd ruin the mission." That was the truth.

[Sunny]

Jaryd arched an expressive eyebrow, flat dark eyes intent on the woman who sat before him. He had done his research before asking for her, of course, and thus her reaction did not entirely surprise him. Talented, yet convinced of her own lack of ability, one of her instructors had told him. Utterly obsessed with height as a measurement of worth, another had said. Smart, they had all told him. And if that wasn’t enough, she had passed the Three Arches.

The Altaran struggled daily with irrational grief and rage, but even shrouded in mourning he could not understand how anyone could cling so stubbornly to untruths. Thus his response, when it came, was perhaps not as sympathetic as it might have been. “If you wish to persist in believing you are ‘nothing’, then you are welcome to do so, but you will keep those thoughts to yourself. I have neither the time nor the patience to tell you what many others have already tried to convey.” His fingers flickered dismissively. “You have the power to do anything you wish if you allow yourself to do so, child, and you have the One Power to assist you, which is far more than most of the world can claim.”

His head tilted to the side and he gave her an intent look. “What's important is that I picked you to assist me, and assist me you shall.”

His eyes fell to the paper in his hand and he scanned it quickly before speaking again. “The Tower laundry has instructions to provide you with clothing for our journey. Collect the bag from them this evening, and be sure to get plenty of rest. They will have given you a simple country dress- wear that, and meet me at the Channeling Yard at first light tomorrow. I will explain more once we are on our way.”

[Avyra]

He gave her a long look, and Avyra held her breath. She could have just ruined the entire mission. She was replaceable. “If you wish to persist in believing you are ‘nothing’, then you are welcome to do so, but you will keep those thoughts to yourself. I have neither the time nor the patience to tell you what many others have already tried to convey." What many others? “You have the power to do anything you wish if you allow yourself to do so, child, and you have the One Power to assist you, which is far more than most of the world can claim.” She really didn't want to have this talk. “What's important is that I picked you to assist me, and assist me you shall.” Avyra looked up, eyes brightening again. She still had that youthful glow in them, even through her outward sorrow and self pity. “The Tower laundry has instructions to provide you with clothing for our journey. Collect the bag from them this evening, and be sure to get plenty of rest. They will have given you a simple country dress- wear that, and meet me at the Channeling Yard at first light tomorrow. I will explain more once we are on our way.” --- Once again she was faced with the sorrow of not having a dress that fit. It was too long for her, the shoulders a bit too big, the dress itself too baggy. She looked at herself in the mirror with a sigh. Couldn't she have anything? She turned the ring at her finger, swallowing slightly. She didn't know if she'd ever be back. Although Jaryd had promised her safety, Avyra had no idea if he would hold up his end. What if she got in a situation where he couldn't save her? She hadn't even told Terric. Avyra's small heart broke. Terric. She knew she loved him, but did he love her? Would he care if she died? Surely he did. She could still remember their kiss. She had been told not to bring Dun. That was irritating. Meaning they'd be walking. And in her dress, that was incredibly annoying. Jaryd stood already by the Chenneling Yard, and she made her way to him, her legs not moving as fast as she wanted them to. "Hello, Asha'man Jaryd. Where will we go from here?"

[Sunny]

Jaryd sat on a rock in the practice yards, flipping a narrow dagger in the air. He wore a decidedly dingy shirt with tattered sleeves, breeches that seemed to have more patches and tears than actual cloth, and a heavy woolen cloak. His boots were scruffy and tied together with twine. His hair, normally a halo of perfect curls around his olive-toned face, had been matted into indecipherable snarls, and a dark bruise marred his left cheek. In short, the man who had once been the M’Hael now resembled nothing so much as a feckless hoodlum.

“Ah, Avyra,” he said, as the Accepted approached him. She wore similarly disreputable apparel, but her skirts and cloak dragged on the ground and she looked distinctly annoyed as she yanked them around to make way for her feet. “That won’t do,” he commented, looking at the fabric thoughtfully. “I thought I’d given the servants better instructions, my apologies.” A moment later he crouched in front of her, his finger touching the rough wool about half a hand above the ground. “With your permission, I can fix this,” he said, looking up at her.

She shrugged, which he took as acceptance. A moment later, a circular net of Air and Spirit settled around her, delicate flows weaving in and out of the fabric, over and over, until abruptly they pulled outward and a solid half a foot of fabric fell away, leaving a perfectly even, neatly-sliced edge that fell just far enough to cover her ankles while leaving her feet free to move.

He pushed himself upright and answered her question as if nothing had happened at all. “We’re going to Cairhien, of course,” he said simply, as a slash of light rotated open before them. The field in front of them was blanketed in snow. “Of course it’s bloody snowing,” Jaryd snapped, and released the flows. A moment later a new slash appeared, this one opening only a few feet from a road. The snow had been trampled by people, horses, and carts there, but thankfully no other travelers were in sight. It was risky indeed to Travel to a road, but even more risky to leave a path to an obvious gateway. He gestured for the Accepted to walk through, then let the door snap shut.

“You will need to hide your ring, forget my title, and pretend that the One Power scares the living daylights out of you,” he told his companion in a low voice as they walked up the road. “While we are here, my name is Adwal and I’m a street thug with a penchant for bragging,” he told his companion. “You were freezing and starving on the side of the road when I found you and took you under my wing. Make up any stories you like about me, but do try to avoid getting me arrested unless I specifically ask for it.” His teeth flashed in an amused smile, but his companion did not seem to share his humor. He shrugged, slender fingers splaying.

“You will need a name as well. Just let me know what to use before we get to the city. And...” He paused, pulling his cloak closer around him, "if you have questions, don't hesitate to ask. I may not be able to answer all, but I will do my best."

OOC: General gist of this plot is that Jaryd suspects this one particular minor Lord is actually a Dreadlord, and he’s willing to do practically anything to either confirm or disprove his theory. You are welcome to do...pretty much anything you want? Also, they're going to be in Cairhien for the Feast of Lights which is...uh....quite a spectacle. <_<

He will absolutely teach Avyra how to climb walls, pick locks, and do other morally questionable things if you are interested in writing it out. *lol* I don’t know how long you want this thread to be, but I can spin it out forever if you want. Jaryd’s happy to be out of the Tower!

[Avyra]

He frowned, and she felt her stomach drop. What had she done? He bent over, taking the hem of her skirt in his hand. “That won’t do. I thought I’d given the servants better instructions, my apologies.” He paused and looked up at her. “With your permission, I can fix this." There was no fixing it, but whatever. She shrugged. It wasn't the length that bothered her. She knew she would never look pretty, regardless if it fit or not. He began to weave, and soon the dress was hemmed right for her legs. She looked down, shame coming into her reddening face. She wasn't worth the effort. “We’re going to Cairhien, of course." A gateway opened, and she squeaked with shock, looking through it. “Of course it’s bloody snowing." He wasn't pleased, and she shivered. No cold. Please. He motioned for her to step onto the path and after some hesitation she did, and the gateway snapped shut. It was like being thrown into a freezing bath after a very hot day. Except it didn't feel good. The wind sliced her like a knife, and she breathed in through her nose, holding her breath as she felt her entire body begin to quake. “You will need to hide your ring, forget my title, and pretend that the One Power scares the living daylights out of you." She nodded. “While we are here, my name is Adwal and I’m a street thug with a penchant for bragging. You were freezing and starving on the side of the road when I found you and took you under my wing. Make up any stories you like about me, but do try to avoid getting me arrested unless I specifically ask for it.” She just nodded again, rubbing her arms. Despite her coat, she still felt the wind go right through her. “You will need a name as well. Just let me know what to use before we get to the city. And... if you have questions, don't hesitate to ask. I may not be able to answer all, but I will do my best." "I... call me Kyella. Its the name of my bird." She shivered again, feeling her teeth chatter. "I just. I don't even know what I don't know. I'm nervous. I don't know why I'm here. Why you picked me of all the Accepted. And its cold. Will we be staying inside?" She hoped so, otherwise this man was going to have her clinging to him all night for warmth. As they walked, she just felt worse and worse. It was so cold, and she didn't appreciate walking at all. At least her companion wasn't over a foot taller and could easily match her stride. She didn't have to run.

[Sunny]

"Adwal"

Jaryd had expected the cold and snow to dampen his spirit, but somehow he had been unprepared for the effect the nation itself would have. The last time he had been to Cairhien, he had fought a Dreadlord with Durent. Last time he had been there, he had spent three days in the Foregate before paying a visit to House Riatin to keep his promise to a young woman with brown eyes. The last time I was here was the first time I saw- Memory overwhelmed him and he could not have spoken to save his life.

He didn’t know if Avyra saw his tears or heard his ragged gasps for breath as he fought to control his grief and anger. In truth, the Red didn’t care. If he got them both to the city without tearing the road apart and throwing himself to the merciful depths of earth and fire, that would be victory enough. As it happened, the cold touch of Zeen’s Compulsion did its duty despite his best efforts, and he stumbled forward in bleary emptiness.

Hours of miserable walking later they arrived in the Foregate unscathed save for the biting cold that numbed their faces and hands.

He saw Avyra glancing around hopefully, and shook his head. “Ain’t got the coin to be wastin on a room,” he commented. He had not had much chance to befriend Betrys, but the Yellow’s brogue had stuck with him through the years. Knowing it came in handy occasionally. “At lees ye ain’t blue-faced an' puffy on t'side t’road, Kyella. I coulda left ya, but I dint. Shut yer bloody month, ye might choke on a fly iffen they ain’t all froze yet.” The young woman’s green eyes flashed with annoyance and for a moment Jaryd could barely breathe. She looked nothing like Kaia, and yet- Light, get a hold of yourself.

The Asha’man took his companion by the shoulder and hustled her roughly through the twisting streets of the Foregate, twisting and turning past knots of other travelers, drifts of dirty snow, and thick patches of ice. A sharp left took them into an alley where overhanging thatch kept the ground clear of snow. They made faster progress then, and he led her deep within the warren of ramshackle buildings. Finally they found themselves in a corner between several buildings that had seen better days. “This will do,” he muttered, looking around. .

“Do for what?”

“For sleeping,” he said simply. “It’s late, and that walk was brutal.” He shoved debris out of the way with his foot, then sat with his back to the wall, gesturing for her to join him. “There’s a meat pie and some cheese in your bag,” he said. “Maybe an apple. Eat- we’ll have to scrounge tomorrow, no point in having an empty stomach now.”

The Accepted’s teeth noticeably chattered as she settled. Jaryd sat in silence as she ate, weighing his options. Finally her discomfort drilled through other concerns and he wove thin flows of Fire, spreading them through the ground beneath her and surrounding her in warmth. The small gesture was as much an apology as he could give her for what he had already, and would continue to, put her through.

“Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to climb walls,” he said before she could comment on what he had done. He pulled a heel of bread out of his shirt sleeve and began to gnaw on it. “And maybe how to cut purse strings. Have you ever thought of being a pickpocket?”

[Avyra]

Avyra felt a chill. That was where they would be sleeping. Not even a rusty inn with one bed and floorboards as stable as the ground in an earthquake. No. It was in the corner of an alley, the ground covered in filth. She was beginning to wish she hadn't agreed to this mission. She shook, settling down, trying to get as comfortable as one could while in such a filth filled area. Jaryd spoke about food, some meat pies and cheese, maybe an apple, and she felt her heart sink further. She wouldn't be able to eat either of those things. She did, however, feel the ground grow warmer. She looked over at him but said nothing, but felt her heart swell back up. Maybe there was hope for her. Avyra dug into her bag and passed him the meat pie, saving the cheese just in case and taking small bites of the apple that was luckily in there. Jaryd said nothing about the exchange. “Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to climb walls." He pulled out some bread. “And maybe how to cut purse strings. Have you ever thought of being a pickpocket?” She eyed the bread hungrily. "No," she answered briefly, then returned to nibble. "Kyella, you must be hungry." "I can't eat the meat pie. I'll get sick. Meat makes me sick." She didn't hear him reply, but he held his bread for her, taking the meat pie for himself. She smiled and tore into it. "Thank you." Still cold, she paused, then looked at him before moving over to his side, wiggling her way under his arm and resting her head on his chest with a shiver. "I'm scared," she whispered softly.