Counting the Dead [Attn: Anyone]

[Bella]

This tree was older than she was, and that was no small thing.

Miahala Sedai had walked this world longer than the lives of some men and their sons combined. She had traced numerous generations of her family, even birthing some of the Tower’s own generations.

But the dead… The dead left behind by a life that long were many.

The tree she now stood beside had been the one she met Darien beneath, and she had visited it often when she needed quiet or solace. That it still stood and still looked healthy pleased her immensely. Few things pleased her now, since...coming back to life.

Why do I live? It was a question that she had asked herself more times than she could count since crawling home to Saldea from the Blight. She asked it again every time she moved her body and felt scars stretch or arch.

Of those from within these walls alone, she had outlived both children and husbands.

Her oldest born, Ryne Machera II Gaidin… Gone. Her daughter Sadira, of the Blue, still lived but her warder, Scerai, had been like a son to Mia and was now gone. The twins, dead and buried out in the world beyond Hama Valon.

Ryne Machera, gone. Darien Jolstraer, gone. Caden Ives…

“Caden,” Mia said, her voice thick and tight with emotion as she closed her eyes and pressed her head against the rough bark of the tree. “We were to be together… I was not supposed to be here without you.” And yet, she was.

Why do I live?

She knew that Haeden lived, and was a Gaidin, like his father before him. She had not seen him since her return, however, because he was out of the Tower and in the world, but she was sure she would see him soon. She had not told him yet of her return to the living, because she didn’t know how. It was not something that should be put in a letter, after all.

Now was the time for her to return to the living and to the world. She had come back to the Tower and that was a start, but what did she do now? Resurrection apparently does little to give purpose in life beyond...life.

Lost in her own thoughts, it took her longer than it may have otherwise to realize there was someone behind her. A small twig snapped and she turned her ageless, porcelain face to the source of the noise...

[[OOC: This is open to anyone who might be in the gardens and would chance upon her. If no one replies, well, then that poor squirrel who stepped on the branch is in for a heck of a shock... ]]

[Stasia]

Illyria Malkom There are Neither Beginnings, Nor Ends

Illyria could only stare in shock.

She stood, wreathed in power grace, every bit as real as she had been the afternoon that she had received a distraught Accepted into her office. The marble bust that stood in the Green Halls did not do her justice; though it captured the stark,curving lines of her cheekbones and strong jaw, and its eyes were slanted and defiant… It did not capture her aura.

She had not seen hide nor hair of Miahala Ives since shortly after ascending the Great Stair. She had learned shortly after taking over Laela’s position that Aes Sedai petitioned for initiates before they could be summoned for raising - she would have been shocked if Miahala’s name had not been on that list. It could not have been a fortnight after they had met that she had been summoned, and before that? She had done her best to keep her head down and keep to herself. It was no longer a surprise that it had taken her over a decade to be called.

She watched carefully, ignoring the guilt that plagued her. When they had first met, Miahala had family and status. Now that they met again… It seemed that the tables had turned. There were few people left that would remember her. Those that did would know that she had no first-kin to speak of. Caden had vanished not long after her: the Mistress of Novices knew better than to assume that he was merely skulking off in the Westlands without his Ward.

No. If she was here, and he was not busy beating the Warder trainees to pulps, he could only be dead.

She considered her own circumstances and how vastly they had changed. She’d filtered from Ajah Head, to Keeper, to Mistress of Novices, found a Warder-Husband that now led Miahala’s Ajah, was near ready to give birth to her first child, and had a ward of sorts beside - she had made something of herself. Just like Miahala had promised.

She remembered when Amora and her family had returned. It had been an unsettling, rickety time. Serving under a once-Brown as an Amyrlin was far easier than serving the once-Blue; one was happy to shatter dishes in satisfaction and was perfectly frank. With Amora, she had struggled to find sure-footing. Carra was like her, in that way - but lack of experience and a change of her own position made it easier for Illyria to manage… But seeing Miahala again was not like this. It was like seeing a piece of home. Saffiah had thrown herself to the wind decades ago. Illyria could not rightly say where she and that drunken Gaidin had wound up. Seeing that the woman that had presided as Captain-General during Saffiah’s time as a Green had returned to the Tower felt as though a piece of the lanky Kandori had come home, too. Illyria smiled softly.

She approached the woman cautiously. While she did not look as though she had deliberately isolated herself, she had not brought company, either. And just who would she have brought? There would be few faces for her to recognize.

She did not quite wince as a fallen branch cracked beneath her shoe. She’d never trained in stealth, and could not blame her feet, as she could no longer see them, but Miahala turned sharply. She half smiled at the woman who had once been her mentor, half grimaced at her own misstep, and tried to carefully pick a path closer to the Green. She waddled, heavy with pregnancy, in spite of her best effort.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you, sister,” she said fondly, smiling up at the walking legend. “But I wanted to welcome you home myself.”

OOC: *squeals and tackles* Glad to see you writing!! Had to snag this one. <3

[Bella]

The woman spoke with familiarity, and Mia did feel a spark of recognition as she looked into her face. But with the decades passing, and the way her mind had been muddled in the past months... Well, it took effort. But eventually, she remembered everything and everyone.

With movements that were always precise and deliberate, Mia turned the rest of her body to face her fellow Aes Sedai. Mia managed a small but sincere smile, even if the expression looked like it should be cracking the alabaster of her skin.

"Please do not apologize, sister," Mia said, inclining her head in a show of respectful acknowledgement although her blue-green eyes remain fixed on the gaze of the other. "The gardens have ever been for all." She paused. "I thank you for your welcome. It is...good to be home, although it seems like much has changed."

[[OOC: I'm glad that you did! <3 ]]

[Stasia]

Illyria Malkom And Not All Change is Good...
Miahala smiled sadly; it was a smile that Illyria was well-acquainted with, and was an expression that belonged to a heavy heart that had found reason to press forward in spite of difficulty. In the Borderlands, it was said that death was lighter than a feather and that duty was heavier than a mountain. Miahala Ives looked as if she had the entire Spine of the World perched upon her shoulders. Illyria could not offer much more than hot tea and a listening ear. This was the sort of fracture then reform that one had to guide themselves through.

“Please do not apologize, sister,” the Green said, and dipped her head respectfully,“The Gardens have ever been for all.” She paused, and the silent felt heavy beneath Miahala’s azurite gaze. Illyria watched carefully, relying on tell-tale signs to guide her - Miahala had always been an intense woman. She was a force of nature. Always have been, always will be, Illyria told herself. It seemed as though she was immortal.

“I thank you for your welcome,” she said finally, still watching her fiercely. “It is… Good to be home, although it seems like much has changed.”

Illyria laughed ruefully beneath her breath. So much had changed since she had left, it was nothing short of a miracle that she could still find her way about the Tower. Next thing anyone knew, Carra and Jaryd would want to renovate the place to keep it modern! Her scorn, usually disguised and dismantled with reason - she was not herself, heavily pregnant, and was being too harsh - they were young - they didn’t truly know better, did they? - what did it matter, as long as they were not overrun by Darkfriends or White Cloaks? - felt freer with someone that she had known before them. Before the Red Ajah.

“Much has changed,” she affirmed, “It feels as though my head is spinning. Sooner or later, it will fall free from my shoulders.” She glanced behind her warily. This corner of the Gardens were empty, but one could never be too cautious. “Set a Ward for privacy, would you? Saidar rarely obeys in this condition.” She gestured vaguely down to her abdomen, and Miahala seemed to understand.

“We have a Red Ajah,” she said quietly, in the vacuum of safety. “Both the Amyrlin and the M’Hael were raised from it not a full month after it was established, and now it stands empty. They claim it is an Ajah dedicated to justice… Then security… Then maintaining balance. I can’t make sense of it. And not long after that, a Red sister from the White Tower arrives, Stilled and exiled, seeking Healing!

“I oversaw Carraidhin’s training myself. She… She’s slippery as any Cairhien. Perhaps more so. North is no longer distinguishable from South,” she said in a quiet, grave voice. “And Tarmon Gai’don will be on our doorstep before we know it. The Hall of Sitters stands nearly empty, so many have vanished. You are not the first to return, Miahala, but only a handful have come home and so many have left… I fear for the future,” she admitted finally. “We are fractured, directionless, and it feels as though the Tower has become a hen-house that a fox has found easy entrance to.” She raked her fingers through her hair, exasperation plain on her features.

“We have children at our helm, and will run aground if things remain the way they are.” Shame and frustration heated her cheeks. She not had spoken so obtusely in her memory of her time as Aes Sedai. “I apologize,” she said quickly. “But… There has been no one to speak with,” she admitted reluctantly, “Not in years. Either it is not safe to speak, or those who who have ears and eyes refuse to hear or see." Her own husband had been a strong advocate for the Red Ajah when Carra had first been raised to it; a Foretelling that there would be disaster if they did not make one was enough to convince most. But most forgot that Foretellings were often vague and all too easy to misinterpret.

"It will take more than the Light’s blessing to see this to a good ending. It would take ta’veren.”

[Bella]

Illyria's request for such a measure of privacy did surprise the returned Green a little, but not enough to be effected or let it show. (How little was let show from all that was felt...) Fortunately, and perhaps her only bit of fortune in this debacle of life and death, Mia had not lost her ability to reach Saidar, nor had she forgotten how to weave it. Without a twitch or even the most minor changes in her statue like form to show she was doing anything, she embraced the rushing waters of power and tugged together the threads to weave their privacy.

The news to be born when the privacy was set, however, was quite shocking. To someone who had been a part of the Tower so long as Miahala had been--since before the Breaking so many decades ago--the words Red Ajah were enough to send a chill along the spine. Especially to a Green, at that. She knew the Red here was not, it could not, be like the White Tower but it's presence was still...disconcerting.

"I had heard something of it when I came back," Mia said, her words impassive but seemingly chosen with care, "but thought I must have understood wrong. Apparently, I did not." Turning her head, like a bird of prey sitting on a branch, her eyes examined the corners of this place she had spent so much of her life in--the gardens, and the tower without. "You are an Aes Sedai and should not apologize for speaking. It seems you are right to have some concern. But...this place is a power of its own, and it always has been. It has survived long, through many hardships. Even outright ruination. It always has returned."

Her eyes returned to Illyria. "The Tower will always rebuild and regain its strength. It has ever had the Light's Blessing, even in its darkest hours." That faint smile curved the very corners of her mouth and eyes as she gestured at the woman before her. Too many years as a leader could not stop her from being so, even if only in offering wisdom or encouragement. "Our children here bring it strength and growth."

[Stasia]

Illyria Malkom Older and Wiser Miahala tried to be reassuring, though she did not quite manage to convince Illyria that she was unconcerned. She spoke circumspectly, as if she had not set a Ward for silence only moments before. Her calm, serene sentences had hopeful content, if not a hopeful tone. The Mistress of Novices held her tongue respectfully; if Miahala Ives Sedai thought that all would be well, then all would be well. She nearly laughed at the thought of the Pattern daring to defy the woman.

“Growth and strength,” she repeated slowly and quietly, as if she were testing the words for the first time. How Miahala remained unconcerned was beyond her - but it was not a shock that the woman had unattainable wisdom. Illyria would not have attempted to guess her age, but she would have said that it was at least twice her own. “Light willing,” she said, unable to exclude that fundamental and dependent clause. Miahala smiled softly. It was a smile that Illyria was well-acquainted with. It was reassuring and warm: it did not have to split her face in two in order to convey meaning.

“If you are not concerned, then I have no reason to be either.” She tried to say the words as if she meant them. They were truthful, but they did not yet resonate with her. She supposed that it would take more time, and that she would need to see more success and less fumbling from the Amyrlin and M’Hael before she could trust that their decisions would not end in disaster. How the Hall had elected two children… It was not her place to voice concerns, despite her dearest wishes. Carra could at least aspire to wisdom, and she kept cold and clammy enough to be fearsome: her word would be law. Jayrd? Illyria felt as though she could drag the lad by his ear, if she bothered to try. He had not yet even had the time to let agelessness settle on the lopsided grin that never seemed to leave his face. She was stunned someone had not tried to slap it off.

“How are things away from the Tower?” she asked solemnly, redirecting the conversation smoothly. “I left for a short time on an errand, but..." she shook her head slightly, trying to shake memories of Amador. This was not the time. “My eyes and ears say that things are… For now? Stable. We’ve not yet been broiled by the Dragon.” She tried to smile, but it was weak. Despite the decades she’d now spent as Aes Sedai, she could never become fully adjusted to the idea of the end of the world. Courage was supposedly impossible without fear. She would have preferred a smaller portion of fear on her plate.

It would have been much easier to keep her head down and try to pretend that time was limitless, despite the subtle signs that this was not the case. "Hopefully, there is still sand in our dwindling hourglass?"

[Bella]

Miahala was still as a statue as she listened to the other woman speak, and her sharp eyes and ears missed little but the rest of her let on to nothing that she noticed. However, when the question was asked, a wry smile curved the corners of her mouth. "Honestly," she began, which was rather funny since she could not, strictly, lie anyways, "you would likely know more than I.

"I only returned to...the world a few months ago, and I have been with my family in that time." She did not admit to the level of her hermitude during that time, as she wrestled with the mere fact of her living existence again and the large black hole in her memory as to how it happened. "But so far as I was able to tell on my journey back to the Tower, the world seems...stable, yes."

She paused, eyes drifting to the side for a moment of thought before she said, "In fact, it does not seem to have changed as much as I would have expected in all this time. I suppose lives continue as they always will until they have no choice but to divert."

[Stasia]

Illyria Malkom "It seems as though we're tucked away from the world," she mused. They were certainly less obvious than the Shining Walls of Tar Valon; the Grey Tower seemed more like a mountain fortress than a true city. News didn't travel slowly, per say, as several Aes Sedai and Asha'man kept their contacts, Illyria included, but it did seem... Distant. As if they were concerns that existed in a different world.

"Until we have no choice but to divert," she agreed quietly, looking at Miahala carefully. She'd been with family? Hadn't all her family perished? Illyria had been barely raised Aes Sedai at the time, but she distinctly remembered that there had been a great deal of death. Caden had been one of the few to scrape out alive, and everyone knew that as soon as Miahala's body was in Saldaean earth that the Master of Arms would find a good death in the Blight.

But here, she lived, with only a small scar across her cheek to show for it - at least, that was all that was visible. Illyria was not so naive as to believe that Miahala was otherwise unscathed.

"Do you have quarters, Miahala? Any sisters or brothers that you know?" True - they knew each other, but the Indigo hoped that the Green had earthly tethers aside from the woman that she would only remember as a weepy Accepted.

[OOC: Caught a sinus infection. It rocks. This doesn't have much substance, but hopefully it'll be enough to work with for now. <3]

[Bella]

"Yes, I do," Mia said with a faint smile and bow of her head. "They assigned me quarters once again within the Halls of the Green." Which was where she belonged. It was always where she belonged. The quarters were different, of course, since she did not hold the ranks that she once did, but since she didn't have the husband or young son she once did either, it suited. She was fortunate that someone had, for some reason, put her things in storage instead of destroying them. Now she had them back.

They had asked if she wanted Caden's as well, but she couldn't (yet) bear the physical reminders all around her.

The other part of the question deepened her smile a little. "Yes, I am not alone here, over all." She hesitated, contemplating how much she wanted to reveal. "My daughter, Sadira, is an Aes Sedai of the blue. And my son Haeden is a Gaidin. There are both out of the Tower now, though. I hope they'll return soon. And there are a few familiar faces." Another pause. "I thank you for your concern."

((OOC: Oh noes! That's no fun at all. Feel better! Funny, I think you may have posted this right when I sent you a PM? ))

[Stasia]

Illyria Malkom "I am glad to hear that."

Though hospitality was unlikely to be turned down - it was always better to be home, especially when surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces. And it was even better to hear that she was not as alone as Illyria had thought; she had a few surviving children, out in the world. Surely, they would come running when they heard that their mother had somehow sprung back to life - whatever their business was.

"I thank you for your concerns." Miahala seemed to still hold something back, quiet and distant as always - ancient and untouchable. Illyria was not one to pry, and she preferred organic friendships to flimsy political ones - How many Aes Sedai truly have friends, though? - so she was happy to leave the Green to her memories and her peace.

It had been years since there had been someone that she knew from her days of training in the Tower. It was nearly like having a little slice of home - strange to think that she'd ever want to return to whites, but things had been simpler then. She'd had friends, then. Her Warder-Husband was the only relationship that had remained intact from that time, and while she appreciated his presence more than anything, there was always the lingering sensation of loneliness.

She hoped that Miahala would find more pieces of home soon.

She dipped her head reverently. "It is what sisters are for, Miahala." She brushed the Green's arm with a gentle touch, perhaps a little informal, but not forceful. "Don't hesitiate to come to me if I can be of any assistance. I'm afraid my leisure time is dwindling; I'll be lucky if a novice hasn't lit someone on fire by the time I reach my office." A dry, humorless smile graced her features - Miahala would remember her days in white as keenly as Illyria remembered hers. "The Tower is stronger with your return, Miahala, and we are grateful for it." She gave her arm a final, affectionate squeeze before setting off back towards her office, feeling more confident in the Tower's - and the world's - future.

Ten years dead, and still as good a leader as the day I met her.