Shift 2: Saboteurs and Synergists

[Chris]

Jer Hallwell, Rogue Asha'man of the Yellow Ajah
Exciting times ahead. Scary, but exciting as well. Jer could hardly contain his excitement as he left the meeting he had just sat in.

The First Weaver, Maever, had worriedly advised that they would be needed to help support the other Ajahs in their efforts to liberate Tar Valon and remove a False Dragon. Some opted to go into the line of fire directly, but elsewhere there were mutterings about setting up a camp nearby, or throwing up some Gateways outside Tar Valon. Jer hadn't really listened - he was thinking about what he had to do now.

Namely, report back to Zeig Zaigar. The Grey Tower was going to attack, and he could be the first to let him know! That would get him in his good books again. Light, it might even get him to rejoin the Spices...

He didn't go directly to the Travelling grounds. No, instead the infiltrator went to the building that housed the trainees. He had some people to collect. Trainees that he knew would be interested in their cause. Or trainees that could be... persuaded.

Jer did not operate alone, but for the sake of this plot we will not name the other channellers he met outside the building. Other full ranked channellers, even a Warder or two, fully dressed and come from their own meetings with their Ajahs no doubt.

"Take the ones who have been marked," Jer said, "nobody who isn't on the list. Got it?" One stray Travelling gate stood open for everyone to leave through to get to Tar Valon's outskirts. A stray travelling gate that was tied off, and showed no signs of being closed any time soon. Jer set this up inside the main corridor where the Novices slept, right at the end. Out of the way from a casual passerby but close enough for them to do what needed to be done - but they didn't have much time.

So they moved quickly. Men, women, channellers and non-channellers, the rogues slipped into their rooms quietly and scooped them up. Some were in on the act and came along willingly, excited to serve the False Dragon. Others needed to be persuaded, by being knocked out or less elegantly dragged out.

Jer stood at the Gateway, making idle conversation with one of the Aes Sedai to provide some context for any trainees taking part. "Zeig Zaigar wants to educate as many trainees as possible to join the cause. Some of these people are powerful channellers from what I've been told - but I think he also wants some as collateral for when the Grey Tower retaliate. Some are staying in the Conversion building, apparently. I haven't even been in there before."

The idea here is that some trainees were taken away to serve in some capacity under the False Dragon. Or perhaps be used as collateral. Up to you. But the Gateway that leads to the outskirts of Tar Valon still stands, and it could be a while before the Aes Sedai or Asha'man realise what has happened. In the meantime, those who are looking for adventure may wish to try here first... Trainees can feel free to be part of the kidnapped, or they can be wannabe adventurers looking to rescue their friends. I leave this entirely in your hands. (they are also welcome to be scooped up by full-ranks on their Ajah missions!) I will update with story beats when certain conditions are met. Trainees who go this route are in more danger, but there is also more free reign on how they can take part. If they want to inadvertedly support with some of the activities suggested in Shift 1 then that is fine and dandy - I leave the "how" of it all in your creative hands. What, for example, is the "conversion building"?

[Ashfalcon]

Something was very wrong. Darthalien's door was open, and there were voices within. He paused outside, listening. Someone was channeling Saidin nearby; more than a single someone, now that he felt for it.

"...n't he here?" asked a man's voice, a gruff baritone.

"How in the Light should I know? Jer's going to be disappointed, though -- a passably strong Dedicated who spoke out -- in class, yet -- against the way this Tower is organized?" This second voice was a bit higher, a bit softer, and Tairen in its accent.

Yes, well, they're definitely looking for me, Darthalien thought. And they have some idea who I am. He was lucky he had trouble sleeping; luckier still that Forzen Asha'man was willing to tutor him in the evenings; and luckiest of all that he'd been thinking of how best to add the Power to his earliest training. You made the weave work earlier, he reminded himself. Do it again. He reached for Saidin as he eased silently back down the hall, shaped the weave carefully, and then drew it around him.

"Someone's channeling," said the softer voice.

"Everyone's channeling, idiot," said the gruff voice, and a man in a black coat with a Shienarian-style topknot stepped out of the door to Dar's room.

Blood and Ashes! Dar looked around, but couldn't see any cover; reflexively, he inverted the weave.

He almost lost control of the whole thing and left himself standing there exposed, but after a heart-stopping moment of terror the misdirection held. The unfamiliar Asha'man looked back -- White Ajah by the highlights on his outfit, so small wonder Dar didn't recognize him -- and scowled, but his eyes went right through Dar, who kept himself very still.

The man who came out behind him was smaller, Tairen, and a member of the Blue. He didn't even bother to look around. "Next candidate is this way. We need to keep moving." He was vaguely familiar, but not one that Dar knew by name.

"You don't need to tell me," said the gruff man. "I hate this place."

Dar waited for three full breaths, then stepped into his room. The two men had left the door open; he did as well. What would he need? Well, he wasn't in a position to fight -- not without knowing more about whatever betrayal was happening here. The Grey Tower would respond, but it might take time; and going for help risked losing track of those who were being taken. So... a small satchel, to hold his book of notes and the writing kit he used while traveling; a handful of extra knives in case he needed to throw these channelers off his scent; and then a bare moment...

A single page from his notebook, and some writing:

I returned to find two men in my room, looking for me. They said someone named Jer would be disappointed not to have me, because I disagreed with the Tower. I don't know how many they are taking, but I believe they are kidnapping learners, and I intend to follow. Look for game pieces like this one to mark my messages. He fished a playing-piece out of his desk -- a small stone tower, as it happened -- and set it atop the message.

The Gate was unmistakable, for all that Dar had done little of Traveling and had yet to try his strength at the weave. Two Channelers stood beside it, a man and a woman, chatting easily as they waited. Oh yes, they're definitely taking people away. He'd dropped the invisibility weave, more worried that someone would sense him channeling than that someone might stumble across him, and now he was glad he had. Still...

"Ah, Emric," said the woman beside the gate. "Good hunting?"

"Not as good as we'd hoped," said the gruff-voiced man. A Novice and two Accepted floated in the air behind him, held by woven threads of Air. He'd come in from a cross-passage, and his Tairen co-conspirator was nowhere to be seen.

This is a terrible idea, Darthalien decided, as he drew the invisibility-weave around himself again-- and then lost control of it. It took two more tries to make it come together, and by then Emric was turning towards the portal. He didn't dare try to invert the weave again, even if he could remember exactly what he'd done; instead, he watched as the Asha'man turned his back to Emric and his attention to the Aes Sedai. Dar slipped across the hall and placed himself at the end of Emric's prisoners, counting on the feel of the Asha'man's channeling and the Gate itself to hide his own.

He slipped to the side the moment he was through the gate, finding himself in an empty lot that had been turned over to collecting and sorting prisoners. He dropped his invisibility again and stepped around the back of the gate, using it for a moment of shelter. Infiltration was going to be tricky, if he could manage it at all; the weave of invisibility would work fine with ordinary guards or even female Channelers, but it would do nothing but act as a beacon for any male Channelers in sight. A bloody Warder's cloak would have been better!

Well, that wasn't an option for him. He was either going to have to figure out how to invert the weave reliably -- and, for that matter, create the weave reliably -- or else he was going to have do this the hard way. And with his very distinctive features, the hard way was going to be very hard indeed. I could let myself be taken prisoner, he considered, but he didn't like that option. It would likely mean surrendering his weapons and submitting to being constantly observed, not to mention the likelihood of his notebook and writing utensils being taken.

Well, then do what they don't expect. Even as a trainee Dagger, he'd been given some lessons on what to do if his Weaver was in danger and he wasn't in a position to fight for her. This wasn't quite the same, but the strategies were similar.

With that in mind, he strolled towards the low, half-shattered wall at the back of the lot, and slid over it into the shadows.

[Dan]

Sensations of fhreads of sparking sharpness cutting through layers of confused consciousness. There was no sense of time for the child, there was but the experience of the present. The sensations of the recent past felt merged with those of the present, and it was a disgustingly disorienting sensation for the mind of the diminutive pupil of the Grey Tower. That spark of pain, having been but for a brief moment, yet the memory of the pain could not be ignored, nor forgotten.

Pain was their experience. Where there had once been a noise, and an accompanying pressure that had followed not even a breath later. They could not move, they were not conscious enough to even dare the attempt. There was but darkness and light, both yet neither at once. They began to be cognisant of some unexplainable sensations, like being safely carried by a caring mother, one that lacked any sort of human warmth. It was a cold touch, and a deeply lonely sensation, floating in a sea of nothing, along others like them.

Like invisible hands, cold as winter, protective as a doting mother, threads of air gently held the child up, while a separate touch of nothing pushed them forward, guiding them all somewhere. A sort of sense of identity began to return to the child. They knew they were a she, and that she was in service of someone, or something important? The hem of the child's pure white dress dragged on the ground as the procession moved forward.

The effort in trying to recall anything was too much for the barely conscious girl, who visibly twitched for all to see, and slumped within her bounds of air, finding herself consumed by the sweet oblivion of sleep. There was but a sort of welcomed darkness, as she was being taken somewhere, fully against her will. The darkness did not spare her the fear, birthing nightmares deep within her young consciousness.

[Alianora]

Ekaitza Dolrin, Novice

Ekaitza yawned as she tugged down the skirt of the white novice dress she’d just put on. She frowned as she inspected the material, wanting to be sure the dress was clean before leaving the safety of her room. With her back to the door, the novice never saw it open, but had only the quiet creak of the hinge to alarm her. She attempted to turn around to see who was there at this early hour, but something grasped her legs just as she started to move. Something else bound her arms at her sides, covered her mouth, and when she looked down at herself, Ekaitza could just barely make out the thick threads of Air holding her arms in place. Sky blue eyes widened with surprise, and fear, as she was towed right out the door and into the hallway, hovering some distance above the floor.

She could not run, nor even call out, so Ekaitza forced herself to remain still and try to understand what was happening. Someone had tied her up and dragged her from her room…who, and why? Her immediate surroundings provided her with some answers; there were two Aes Sedai that she could see nearby, each of them holding another novice as tied with Air as she was. The small group moved at a quick pace through the novice halls, and while Ekaitza tried to pay attention to where she was going, the path the Aes Sedai chose was not familiar to her.

She understood why that was when the door one of the Aes Sedai opened was one that led outside, not far from something silver that seemed suspended in the middle of the air. Ekaitza had no idea what it was, other than some sort of construction of the One Power. Once the first Aes Sedai and novice pair stepped into it, the Tuatha’an novice realized that whatever it was, the silver thing was moving them somewhere else, away from the Grey Tower she, as a novice, was not supposed to leave.

I can’t just leave! Maris Sedai will be so angry!

The woman, who taught the first class Ekaitza had that morning, had no tolerance for lateness, certainly not complete absence from class, and Ekaitza feared that not even being forcibly taken from the Tower would be a good enough excuse for her teacher. Old instincts surged up that she’d struggled against her whole life, suggesting that she try to struggle, or kick, whatever it took to avoid her fate. Ekaitza, of course, did none of that, for those actions could harm the woman who held her. Instead, she simply let herself go limp, refusing to give in to the temptation to resist.

When she was tugged through the silvery light, she observed that they were somewhere on the outside of some sort of town. It was nowhere Ekaitza had ever seen before, and she had seen many places as a girl traveling with her people. The buildings seemed rundown, as if they were no longer cared for, but there were people walking the streets, none of whom seemed to find the sudden appearance of captive Grey Tower novices to be at all unusual. The town was large enough that though she tried, Ekaitza lost track of the twists and turns of the streets, and by the time they entered one of the buildings, she had no idea at all where they were.

The door they were all dragged through opened into a large, dark room that already contained four other novices slumped against the walls. Ekaitza was soon dropped near one of the others, and her hands were freed just long enough for the Aes Sedai to retie them in front of her. She and the others left the novices alone then, and Ekaitza studied her new surroundings. There was not much to see, other than a single candle flickering on a battered table and a few threadbare blankets scattered on the floor. There might have been more in the room, but the light of the candle could not reach all the corners of the space. The novice tried to shiver, though her tied hands and feet did not allow for much movement.

Where is this place? Why are we here? Will anyone come for us when they realize we’re gone?

[Alianora]

Liaran din Chelai Morning Star Ives, Aes Sedai

The sun had just barely risen over the Grey Tower, but Liaran was already awake and had been for some time. The section of the Blue Halls she walked through was more crowded than was usual at the early hour, as pairs and groups of Blue members prepared to remove a False Dragon from his seat in the ruins of Tar Valon. Liaran paid them all little attention, as long as they left enough room for her to get through. She wove around a few talking bunches of people, as intent on her own destination as those around her were on theirs. False Dragon or not, classes in the Grey Tower had to go on as usual, and Liaran intended to keep the day as normal as possible for the novices and Accepted she taught.

Once she finally made it out of the Ajah halls, she found herself with more room to move, arriving at her classroom with just a little time to spare. Positioning herself before the desk at the front of the room, Liaran awaited the solitary novice she taught during the first class of every morning. She did not wait long before she looked towards the door, frowning. Suki had not been late once in all the months Liaran had been teaching her. That was quite rare for a novice, but truthfully Liaran would not even have thought that the Seanchan woman understood the idea of being late.

She turned to the door, watching silently, trying to convince herself that there was a first time for everything, but it was not long before Liaran gave up trying and left the classroom behind her to go look for the novice. She checked first with the Mistress of Novices, hoping the problem might be nothing more than a schedule change she should have been told about, but learned there that Suki was in fact supposed to be with her for class.

Liaran was, in all honesty, getting a little concerned. Any other novice might have been late, tried to skip her classes, or even somehow overslept, but Liaran was not sure that Suki was capable of any of those. The former damane sometimes barely seemed to remember to breathe if someone didn’t grant her permission to do so. After getting directions to Suki’s room, the Aes Sedai headed there to look for the novice.

She hurried to reach it and flung the door open to reveal a tiny space that could not have hidden a novice from her searching eyes. Nobody was there, and nothing looked obviously out of place; two white dresses hung on their pegs, and an ink bottle, pen and notebooks she’d seen Suki bring to class were neatly arranged on a table. The only anomaly was the rumpled bed with sheets trailing on the floor, the pillow indented as if Suki had only recently been asleep there. Suki would never have left that bed unmade. Liaran would have known that without even needing to see the room, the Seanchan woman still flinched when Liaran did no more than calmly correct a mistake.

Liaran scowled, then closed the door quietly, more confused than she’d been in the classroom and truly concerned for the young woman. Where could she possibly be? She knows where she is expected, when to arrive…and if, somehow, she had decided not to attend class, someone would have found her by now. There were very few places a novice could go expecting to hide for any amount of time, even for those who might try. Turning away from Suki’s room, Liaran left the novice halls behind, searching her mind for somewhere else to look for a novice who had to be here somewhere.

“Liaran!”

The Blue sister jumped at the sound of her own name, then cursed herself for getting that caught up in her own thoughts. The voice belonged to an Asha’man called Otarin, Blue Ajah like herself, who sometimes taught classes with her. “Are you looking for one of your students?” he asked.

Liaran nodded. “She didn’t come to class, her schedule hasn’t changed, she isn’t in her room, and I can’t think of anywhere else she would have gone.”

The dark-haired Asha’man sighed and held something out for her to inspect. “I had a pair of Soldiers for my first class this morning and neither of them showed up, either,” he informed her. “I’ve been looking for them, saw an open door that shouldn’t have been, and, well….I think this note I found might explain where your novice and my Soldiers have gone.”

Liaran took the note from Otarin, and by the time she finished reading, she was as angry as she was concerned. Kidnapped? Tar Valon? What would a False Dragon gain from kidnapping barely trained children? She was certain she did not really want to know the answer to that question.

“We have to find them,” Liaran told him quietly, trying to keep her fear for the children of the Tower out of her voice.

Otarin simply nodded. “We do, and I’m going to start a search, but I think some of our leaders need to hear about this before I leave.”

Liaran had already started walking away, focused on what she had to do, but stopped when she realized she was still being addressed.

“You’re right, but I’m going to leave as soon as I find my Warder. I don’t think this should wait until a larger group is ready,” she responded quietly. “I’ll do whatever I can to help if I see you there.” Without taking any more time to await an answer, Liaran hurried away, using the bond in the back of her mind as a guide to lead her to Haeden’s side.

[Ashfalcon]

Darthalien was starting to get a feel for what was happening, and he didn't like it one bit. Midnight had come and gone, and Aes Sedai and Ashaman -- few enough that he was starting to get a feel for the names and faces of the traitors, but more than he might have wished -- were bringing a steady flow of learning ranks through the Gate: Novices and Accepted, Soldiers and Dedicated, and even some Drin and Ji. Maybe two in three were prisoners, either shielded or put to sleep and then prodded or carried along by weaves of air. Those were brought into a half-collapsed building that looked like it might once have been a barn. From there, they were loaded into carts and carried away.

The remaining third had apparently come willingly, and were being sorted into groups and put under the command of traitorous Aes Sedai or Asha'man. That betrayal filled Dar with a wave of murderous rage that surprised even him; a word from any of them could have prevented the taking of their fellow students. He forced the anger down, promising himself there would be time for justice later. Still, watching the gruff Asha'man Emric of the White assemble his own troop of a half-dozen Soldiers and Dedicated after intruding into Darthalien's room was almost more insult than he could take. It was only his deep-seated sense of self-preservation that prevented him from striking the man down.

Focus. A Gate could take one to impossibly distant lands, but in this case Darth didn't think they had come so far as that. The accents here were all familiar, and a quick bit of scouting had revealed that this was an island; it might well be Tar Valon, though for now that was just a guess. And he'd come to do what he could: scout, rescue, sabotage, and provide information for those would inevitably follow.

The Grey Tower would not abandon its students. They would come, possibly even tracking and recreating this gate -- he'd been told such things were possible. So, his second message would be here. He pulled the book from his satchel, and began writing.

The gate brought me here. There are somewhere between a dozen and two dozen traitors, Aes Sedai and Asha'man alike -- or at least channelers of Saidin or Saidiar. I don't yet know where we are, or why we were brought here, but some came voluntarily while most are prisoners. They were brought into the building on the far end of the lot, the one that looks like a barn. I assume they were then bound in some way, because afterwards they were loaded onto carts and taken towards what I think is the center of the island. I hope you have come after us. I hope this information will help. For now, I am still free and doing what I can.

He considered, but left the page unsigned. Then he tore it out of his notebook, laid it on the ground, and set a chunk of broken rock on top of it. Beside it, he set another game piece, this one an abstract carving of a horse's head. It was time to move. He didn't think he could rescue an entire wagon of prisoners, but he still needed to look more closely to figure out what he might be able to do.

[Bella]

Haeden Ives Gaidin was not hard to find.

For Liaran, his Aes Sedai and wife, he was never hard to find. The bond would lead her unerringly to where he was, ever ready for her appearance and need of him, since he took his job as both warder and husband with grave seriousness. (He took after his father very strongly in that.)

However, he was easy to find for a second reason.

He was already walking toward her, following the bond in her direction until they met in the middle.

"You were coming to find me," he said, not as a question, once they were in proper speaking distance. (Neither was the sort to shout without dire cause. It just wasn't in their comparatively similar nature.) "I suspect I know why. I train two soldiers in my morning sword class and neither are to be found anywhere."

[Ashfalcon]

The carts were not separated by which half of the One Power their occupants might wield. Young men and women were pressed onto the benches side by side, and from his vantage atop the chandlery Dar could see that they were conscious, but manacled -- and likely Shielded, to prevent escape.

Light preserve me, he thought to himself, and then swung down from the edge of the roof and kicked off.

He hit the seat hard enough to panic the pair of horses pulling it, one of which tried to rear while the other tried to bolt. The woman driving shrieked, but Darth didn't give her time to react; he had a dagger out and into her neck while the horses were still at odds. Taking the reins, he dropped onto the seat -- as much to keep his balance as to take control of the cart -- and pulled them back.

The horses hesitated, then settled. Darth didn't know much about animals, but both of these seemed old and tired. When he clicked his tongue and urged them to the left, they turned away from the center of the island and headed down along the side of the chandler's shop cooperatively enough. And thank the Light for that, he thought.

They were two streets over before one of the Accepted asked, "Dar? Are you rescuing us?"

He glanced back. "Camissa," he said, relieved. "I devoutly hope so."

OOC: Okay, so if Ekaitza and/or Senna want to quietly cause some chaos, they can be among the ones rescued here. Dar's plan is to get the cart out to the fringes of the island, dispose of the body, and then try to figure out how to unweave a bunch of tied-off shields. Presumably their absence will be noticed, and also there's going to be some squabbling over what to do next: hide, sabotage, try to escape the island, rescue more people, etc...

[Dan]

If someone were to ask her when the situation had changed for her, she would be hardpressed to give an answer. She had gone from one set of masters to another. From ageless faces, to that of an Accepted that she had briefly met in passing. It had gone from one face to another. It was all the same, like before. Before the Aes Sedai found her. This place, Hama Valon, was supposed to be the new beacon of hope in the world, was it not? But yet again, she had simply gone from one master, to the next, and to the next.

When this latest group had taken claim of her, she had not been the most cognizant of victims at the time, so she had not understood the difference. A large part of her mind was focused on pretending to be still unconscious. With all the great effort she could muster, her head still a little unsteady, she did not question things when the threads of air were suddenly gone, resorting in the Novice falling to her great displeasure. She did all she could to not open her eyes, nor react to the fall. She knew that the lie would protect her. The girl did succeed in keeping her eyes closed, perhaps a bit too tightly, but the way her body reacted on impact, and the weird breath and sound she let out, it was obvious to anyone but the girl that she was now conscious.

Memories of her past flooded her mind, where she found sadness and fear. There was a great deal of sadness, and a great deal of fear, but there was now the glow of something different within her mind. There was a hot shard of anger, a shard that was sharp and firm. A shard of anger, burning deep within her chest. That was new, the heat made her feel less of the victim, so in responce the child seized onto the burning hot shard of anger firmly in her heart.

It was not until she noticed the demeanor of her current master, that she began to understand that hope was not lost. There was hope, and it just made the fire in her grow hotter. It was hard for Senna to understand the crimes that she had just been a victim to, she had suffered similar things over the last few years. But with that anger in her heart and in her mind, she brushed the unknown aside, and focused on what she did know.

A thread of her more humble spirit was thankful that for yet another day, she was spared from the trolloc cookpot, and spared from the other… thing, with the eyeless. Tears streaked down her pale cheeks. The Novice's mismatched eyes popped wide open, anger burning deep in her expression. She sat up with some visible strain, yet the girl was visibly determined.

Senna's odd gaze settled on Dar. She recognized him. The Novice felt that perhaps, this man would save her from the trolloc pots. He just had that feel to him. He did just save her afterall, and yet by his behaviour, she couldn't perceive any ulterio motives from his deeds or words. He seemed to be simply doing what he felt was right thing to do. He saved her, and asked nothing in return.

"Maybe the Aes Sedai brought me here for a reason." Senna said in a forced, cold tone, far colder than a girl her age should naturally utter. She saw some broken wood on the ground, reached down picked the makeshift club. She slapped it in her palm for good measure. Yet despite her brave showing, the cold tone cracked, when she softly spoke to the man once she finally reached him; "Dar, you won't let me be put in the cookpots, will you?"

Novice or not, a child was a child. Yet this one was an angry one.

[Alianora]

Ekaitza, Novice

Ekaitza had no way of judging how long she spent captive in the room where she’d been brought. She watched the door, trying to gain some idea of what was happening, but all the Tuatha’an novice saw was a procession of people in and out of the space. Small groups of Novices, Accepted, Dedicated and Soldiers were dragged in and left there, while others were collected and escorted from the room. With nothing to do but think, Ekaitza wondered why some were being taken away, and others remained, and where those who left were going. She did not have long to wonder, as she was among the next to be approached by an Aes Sedai.

“Stand up, girl,” the Aes Sedai snapped as she grabbed Ekaitza by the arm and sliced through the weaves that bound her ankles. The young woman looked up as she attempted to stand, startled to realize that the voice belonged to one of her teachers. For a moment, Ekaitza dared to hope she might be freed from this place, but that hope soon faded as her teacher pulled on her arm, forcing Ekaitza to scramble towards the door. Jalinda Sedai had always been kind and patient during class, but there was none of that in the Aes Sedai now.

The novice blinked in the bright daylight as she was brought out the door, and was all but shoved into an empty cart, pulled by horses. Others soon joined her in the cart, both men in black and women in white, and once it was full, the cart rumbled away down the street. Ekaitza looked around her as they moved, considering whether it would be best to try to get out of the cart. She twisted around in her seat, watching the stones in the road pass by beneath her. It would be difficult to get to her feet with her hands tied, harder still to get herself over the edge, but Ekaitza thought she just might be able to make it…and that anything had to be better than sitting still, waiting for whatever those who held them had planned.

She had just grabbed hold of the side of the cart, attempting to find her balance so that she could stand, when the cart lurched beneath her. Tumbling back into her seat, Ekaitza turned to face the front of the cart to find the horses panicking and a strange, white haired man in the driver’s seat who certainly had not been there when they had left! She gasped in shock and horror when the man brought out something sharp, stabbing the woman who had been driving in the neck. She slumped to the side, very obviously dead, and Ekaitza quickly turned away from the awful sight.

Without hesitation, the Tuatha’an woman put her hand back on the side of the cart and pulled her feet up, trying again to stand up in the seat. Run…I have to run….how do I know he’s not planning to kill all of us? Unable to move quickly, Ekaitza was only able to get one foot under her before the Accepted sitting beside her scooted closer, shoving Ekaitza back down. “Sit down, child!” the woman hissed. “You’ll fall out if you keep doing that.” With the Accepted so near, Ekaitza knew she did not have the space to make another attempt at escape, a fact which was made even more clear when the other woman reached over to barely grasp the edge of Ekaitza’s sleeve.

“If we stay here, all of us, we might just be able to get out of this city,” the Accepted whispered into Ekaitza’s ear. The woman did not release her hold on Ekaitza’s sleeve, and the Tuatha’an novice realized that the Accepted had no intention of letting go of her. Nervously, she looked from the woman to the man who was driving, observing that they were now traveling away from the city, not proceeding farther into it as they had been at first.

Around her, the voices of some of the others rose, asking eagerly if they were to be rescued. Am I the only one who saw what he did? Or are these people all so violent that they do not care? Ekaitza tried to think, but simply could not understand how it was possible for anyone to be both capable of needlessly taking a life while also being willing to spare a cart of people from whatever awaited them. When they approached the edge of the city, Ekaitza’s blue eyes narrowed as she focused on the man who was driving, still trying to make sense of what she’d seen and heard. She almost wished the cart would never stop, but it did, and by that time, Ekaitza was trembling with fear.

The Accepted beside her finally let go of her sleeve, and Ekaitza took a deep breath to calm herself down. Whatever she did next, letting her fear control her was not going to do her any good. She still watched the strange man, not convinced he could be trusted. Part of her wanted to turn and run as soon as she got out of the cart, but she also wanted to understand, badly enough that she dared to speak to the man. Ekaitza knew very well that if he did mean them harm she would not be able to escape, but did not know how else to decide whether to remain with the group.

“Where are we?” she asked in a voice that was steady enough, though her hands still shook a little. “What are you planning to do with us?” She did not expect an answer if the man was as much a threat as she feared, but if he would not respond…then Ekaitza would know that she had to try to run, and if she could not get away, well, then she would die, staying true to the Way of the Leaf.