An Unlikely Lesson [Attn Wila]

[Bridget]

Rhyka had never been asked to visit an Aes Sedai’s quarters for a lesson before; Lydie Sedai, as her mentor and confidant, hardly counted. Private lessons were for Accepted, not novices, no matter how close Rhyka privately believed herself to be to the latter. She had been in novice whites for five years now, and under Lydie Sedai’s capable tutelage had become a deft hand with saidar, although not even Lydie had been able to fit her personality to the mold of a proper novice. In the past year alone, Rhyka had had more than her fair share of unpleasant visits to the Mistress of Novices’ office. Aes Sedai called her intractable and surly. Rhyka preferred to think of herself as spirited.

She knocked at Wilhelmaena Sedai’s door briskly. She had never met this particular Aes Sedai, and had never thought she would meet her until Accepted had knocked imperiously at her own door that very morning. Wilhelmaena Sedai was a Sitter for the White, and assuredly had better things to do than tutor slightly wayward novices. Moreover, Rhyka didn’t have the slightest inkling on what sort of private lesson she was walking into. Logic and philosophy, perhaps? Neither were Rhyka’s best subjects, which had been something of a disappointment to Lydie Sedai.

It was, all in all, more than a minor inconvenience. She had planned on visiting the library in her few spare hours and return to her studies on law and legality in Murandy. Rhyka had started off studying Andor when she had first began to take charge of her own studies, and now considered herself something of an expert. If she was to navigate the world and extract her revenge on those men that would hurt and humiliate, it would do her good to know the law. Her lips stretched involuntarily into a smile at the thought of it.

“Wilhelmaena Sedai?” She called, rapping her knuckles on the door once more. It felt as if she had been standing in this hallway for an eternity, and she had received more cool glances from White sisters than she could stand.

[Stasia]

Wilhelmaena did not appreciate playing nursery maid to novices.

She drummed her nails on the dark surface of her desk, lips pursed in irritation. She had done her part, hadn't she? And Lydie knew fully that she hated dealing with children, and yet, she saw fit to send one of her simpering pets along to for a lesson. Not that Rhykana would learn anything of any real use today - it was the same tactic that had been used time and time again. Set a child between the White wolf and the Yellow doe, and she would choose the doe every time - not realizing that she would prey no matter what she did. Lydie said that Rhykana had promise. She said that about all of the novices - and they were all disappointing.

Few are strong enough for the cause.

Martyn hadn't been. But she had spent so long lying to him now that guilt and shame did not bother to make appearances anymore; she shared her bond, her travels, and occasionally her bed with him, but she did not share all of her secrets. He knew that and he had known that she would not be fully forthcoming when she offered her bond. He accepted that and he accepted her. Occasionally, in the early days of their bond, she wondered why. Now he had shared her mind for so long that seeking the answer to that question had lost its appeal.

Numbers had yet to fail her. Stacks of parchment with calculations and postulates scribbled across them were in neat stacks, titled in precise handwriting. Everything had a place - including her. Her fingers drummed a little more quickly. The child ought to be here by now. According to the time piece on her wall, she was six minutes behind. Her brow creased into a small scowl. Not enough to twist her features unpleasantly, but enough to express displeasure. The Great Game had to be played carefully, particularly when dealing with those who were not versed in the rules.

There was a knock, and a quiet voice. "Wilhelmaena Sedai?" She stood, not bothering to vocally acknowledge the child, smoothed out her black skirts and pulled the bodice straight so that thin strips of Osiellin colors graced her hips with dignity. Her purpose was to strike fear into this girl's heart and she had honed it into a well practiced art.

She opened her door with a harsh jerk, and met the sweet-faced babe with an expression of cold dissatisfaction. "You're late, child."

[Bridget]

A year ago, Rhyka would have stepped back and cowered into a curtsy at such a greeting. As it was, Lydie and the Grey Tower had done much to steel her nerves. “Wilhelmaena Sedai.” She murmured, sweeping into her most graceful curtsy just on principal. The Aes Sedai seemed rigid and strict, from the tight braid sweeping her black hair away from her face to her Cairhien gown. Rhyka noted her dress with surprise; most noblewomen turned Aes Sedai put such things aside at the Grey Tower. From her lessons about Cairhien, she was able to read the strips of color well enough to know that the Aes Sedai must belong to a fairly powerful noble House. But why did that matter, if she was Aes Sedai? Rhyka could not help but wonder if Wilhelmaena Sedai was trying to impress someone. Surely it was not for her. Rhyka could not help the amusement at the thought. She was a lowly novice, no matter that Lydie Sedai told her that it would not be long now until her test for Accepted.

Rhyka could not suppress the frown at Wilhelmaena Sedai’s admonishment. She had had hardly any time to get here from her last class. Either the White Sister did not know and did not care, or she had arranged it so Rhyka would be late. From what Rhyka had heard of the White Ajah, it was likely the former. “I apologize, Aes Sedai.” She told Wilhelmaena, looking the other woman in the eye as she did so. The other woman was shorter than she was, and Rhyka had to look down to do so.

She stood in the hallway, in front of the prickly Aes Sedai, and did her best not to simmer with anger. The woman did not impress her. Why had the woman requested her to come? For a lesson of some sort, or just for a scolding? Aes Sedai and Asha’men seemed to operate on rules that she could not understand. No one ever spoke plainly, and Rhyka was as likely to misunderstand as understand. She appreciated Lydie Sedai’s frankness, and could not help but wish that other Aes Sedai and Asha’men could be as direct.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Wilhelmaena Sedai?” She asked, trying to hurry it along. If the Aes Sedai didn’t want to teach her, she would much rather go to the library to teach herself than suffer through this nonsense. Half the time, Aes Sedai seemed as pigheaded as little girls. “The Accepted told me that I was to visit your quarters for a lesson.” Perhaps a little prompting could get this mysterious lesson started.

[Stasia]

“Is there anything that I can do for you, Wilhelmaena Sedai?” The child simpered, her eyes heavy-lidded with ill-concealed irritation. Rhykana Meran had a very long way to go before she was anywhere near material for dedication to the cause. Easily manipulated? Perhaps. Would she expose her entire Heart in the process of whatever Lydarian compelled her to achieve? Definitely. This was a waste of her time. “The Accepted told me that I was to visit your quarters for a lesson.” Wilhelmaena simmered, her icy gaze turned upwards to the child, cold fury emphasized by pursed lips. How she hated playing nursemaid to babes. Surely, the Great Lord would return her soul before Lydarian quit taking twisted enjoyment in sending children to her for a harrowing afternoon.

“I assumed that you might be able to assist me, child. Lydarian Sedai spoke so highly of you – but given your disposition and blatant immaturity, perhaps she was wrong to. Shame.” The word were sharp and cruel, and she could see the babe’s eyes widen at the insult. She did not take pleasure in the reaction; it was not even a small victory in comparison to what she could be conquering. The novice was a menace, nothing more than a pesky gnat buzzing about her head that was falling swiftly into Lydarian’s honey trap. It would only take a little push, in the proper direction. If the usual route did not work, there were plenty of other means of inspiring fear.

“How can you ever expect to become Aes Sedai if do not respect the title?” The question was a near hiss, silky and dangerous. She laughed softly as the child’s expression blossomed into indignation. Perhaps to someone who had not spent their childhood learning the nuances of reading faces, Rhykana would have appeared to be mildly perturbed, but everything about her screamed of rage. “You have been here a half decade. Those who have their shawls have devoted their lifetimes and then some. You cannot only submit to those that you like, dear girl. Who do you think petitions the Mistress of Novices for your candidacy for the ring? Not Lydarian alone.”

Wilhelmaena let the child chew on that, for a long moment, and she watched carefully for that key moment for her defenses to fall; one step past angry, one step before anger returned, in that happy medium of self-doubt.

“You may try again, child,” she said softly, her voice not dripping with sympathy nor compassion like Lydarian’s, but lined with expectation and demand. She was not suggesting that Rhykana had a choice in the matter.

[Bridget]

Rhyka’s eyes widened for a moment before she regained her composure. This woman… did not act as an Aes Sedai should. The fact that she was a Sitter was incomprehensible. Wilhelmaena Sedai was visibly angry. She was cold and intimidating and menacing, but Rhyka felt as if she could taste the woman’s anger on her tongue. How had she ever passed the test for the shawl? Her earlier irritation faded, replaced with curiosity and rage. Who was this Aes Sedai, to mock her so? It was Wilhelmaena Sedai who had been wretched! She was a noble born sow, just like Elysianne.

And she spoke of Lydie Sedai.

In that moment, Rhyka had to choke back her laugh. Lydie Sedai. Her mentor must have been the one to arrange this meeting; there was no other reason for a belligerent White Sitter like Wilhelmaena to take an interest in her. Which meant… Wilhelmaena was a sister of the Black Ajah.

Rhyka looked at her with new eyes, weathering the storm of the White’s temper. Her words were a torrent of hate. How can you ever expect to become Aes Sedai? The words were cuts, flaying at the pride and self-esteem that she had slowly, lovingly, build for herself. You cannot submit to those that you lie, dear girl. This woman was Black Ajah, would one day be more than her sister, and she had already found Rhyka lacking.

Fury and bitterness rose like a tide within her. She had submitted to the very letter of what was expected of her. She had given this awful woman exactly the respect and obeisance she deserved for her title. What Wilhelmaena asked for was more than that. What she asked for was obsequiousness. Rhyka was many things, but she was no longer a servant. Only her strength of will kept her from curling her hands into fists.

She pictured the flame in her mind and snatched for the cool reason of the void. It came to her like a balm; a beautiful emptiness that even Wilhelmaena could not spoil. With it, her reason returned. Her tension faded from her, leaving her body loose, hunched in the same servile pose she had worn for years before she had shaken it off like so many rags. Clear-headed and calm, Rhyka could understand this. This was a test. Lydie had set Wilhelmaena on her like a rabid dog, and the only thing to do was to survive. It was suddenly easy to swallow her pride, to dip into a deep curtsy like the lowest of serving maids.

“My sincerest apologies, Wilhelmaena Sedai.” Her voice wobbled just as much as it should, and no more. “What would you like me to do for you?”

[Stasia]

Wilhelmaena Osiellin A Fresh Perspective
Events did not unfold in their usual manner. Wilhelmaena had expected to send the child running back to Lydarian with her tail tucked between her legs and tears streaming down her face. But Rhykana Meran surprised her. A sudden calm came over her features; it was not even a calm what she could unravel, Sun Palace trained and born with Daes Dae'mar for swaddling. Wilhelmaena disliked that she could not discern the truth, but she liked the turn that Rhykana had taken even more.

Perhaps Lydarian is not so blind after all.

The novice curtsied so deeply she threatened to topple over, her voice quivered with what should have been renewed respect - if Wilhelmaena had not known better, she would have believed that it was. She could not quite curse herself for heavy-handedness; she had only the past to rely upon, and could not spin foretellings nor had precognitive dreams to help her adjust her path. But she did have a sharp enough mind to allow for spinning a better set web; Rhykana's would be less sticky than the average and twice as convoluted. She plotted silently, kept her features schooled, sharp and expressionless, and merely watched as Rhykana apologized.

"We will be studying arithmetic today. Not the silly sort you see in your classrooms, but the useful kind." Novices knew addition, subtraction, multiplication and addition. Accepted then learned simplistic algebra, and compulsory Tower training stopped there. It could not even be considered a full foundation, but she did not care enough to press the Mistress of Novices. It was not her responsibility to make sure that children didn't get themselves slaughtered because they neglected to use their brains in the heat of the moment; in fact, the notion was more amusing than anything else.

She swung her door open a little wider to allow Rhykana entrance, and then shut it behind them with a soft click. Her parlor was cream-based and white wicker furniture; not the same shades of icy white that her shawl was embroidered with, and less constraining. She could not think in an ivory room. Any solid wood furniture was stained mahogany - not quite black, either, but warm and reddish. There was such a thing as being too obvious, after all.

"Have a seat, child," she said coolly, gesturing to a long desk that had been situated towards the corner. There would be enough space between it and the wall for one of them to sit, and enough surface area for them to work. She gathered parchment, quills, and colored ink to keep things organized - red for definition work, blue for equations, emerald for example problems, and black for practice work - and neatly placed the supplies before Rhykana.

"Now then, Rhykana,"she said flatly, "Tell me what you know of mathematics."

This would not be an easy task. She would still need to frighten the child, but not so overtly; what Rhykana had responded best to before was a threat to her agency. She would first have to make her feel useful and then remind her that she was nothing. Wilhelmaena folded her hands on the desk, and watched Rhykana carefully as the girl fumbled through basics. She did not like that Lydarian had succeeded in finding someone who had more than bread for brains. True, the novice had a world of knowledge to gain, but... She had the prickly sensation that she was staring her replacement in the face.

She still had not yet decided what she was going to do about it.

[Bridget]

Rhyka kept her eyes fixed on Wilhelmaena’s chin; it was more familiarity than a servant might attempt, but not so much that the rabid White sitter would attack her for her discourtesy. The woman’s expression did not change, but Rhyka sensed a sudden shift in her mood away from fierce fury. Certainly the contents of her words changed, if perhaps not for the better. Mathematics? What did she know of mathematics?

The void slid away from her as confusion took root. It was all she could do not to gasp as the clarity of the void left her reeling in her own emotions; anger and disbelief and uncertainty. She held onto her composure by the slimmest of margins as the Aes Sedai held open her door. Rhyka squeezed past her through the tiny crevice of space, careful not to brush up against the woman’s Cairhienen finery.

She stepped to the side of the door without any thought, as a servant might have done. Rhyka almost frowned; she had not thought a quick pretense would settle her back into her past habits so quickly. She was not a servant, would never be a servant again. It took a moment, her narrowed eyes watching Wilhelmaena’s movements all the while, for her stomach to settle. Rhyka did not move an inch until the Aes Sedai directed her towards the chair, and even then she moved with the hunched shoulders and downcast eyes of a lowly scullery maid. Wilhelmaena’s anger may have passed, but Rhyka suspected it had only left for the time being. Her earlier show of respect had gotten her through the door, and Rhyka was suddenly loath to abandon the pretext.

Setted, Rhyka took the time to scan the room while the White Aes Sedai gathered paper and ink. The room was not what she might have expected- it was muted and beautiful, nothing at all like the harsh edges of Wilhelmaena’s personality. The very atmosphere put her at rest, at least until Wilhelmaena deposited a sheaf of paper and a veritable rainbow of ink before her. What sort of mathematics did Wilhelmaena expect her to know?

“I have a strong grasp of arithmetic, Wilhelmaena Sedai.” Rhyka responded promptly, her eyes downcast and posture impeccable as she perched at the edge of her seat. The necessity of the charade was grating at her; she was a novice, only a small step away from an Accepted, and she would be Aes Sedai. To play act as a servant set her teeth on edge. “I have a basic understanding of algebra. I completed a class on algebra taught by Edriene Sedai last year.” Edriene had been a White as well; Rhyka had not noticed the connection between the White Ajah and mathematics until now.

Her words slow as she thought back to that class, Rhyka outlined what she knew; variables and formulas and geometry. Her memories were dim, for she had been far more interested in her channeling classes. Rhyka was regretting that now, her posture wilting under Wilhelmaena’s harsh gaze.

[Stasia]

Wilhelmaena Osiellin [OOC: This is going to be rusty and horrible because I haven’t written in two weeks, but it’s words on a page, right? Also - in case your brain is as fried as mine, x= 28. <3]

“I see.” Wilhelmaena’s tone was flat; her disapproval was palpable. She had not expected anything better, however. “Edriene Sedai would have made sure that you had a firm grasp on her content. Tell me, what was your final grade…?” Rhykana’s reply was met with a noncommittal noise. Not contemptuous nor thrilled, it was a mere acknowledgement of the truth. She did not study as hard as she could have, but few initiates did. Everyone seemed to think that math wasn’t necessary. Wilhelmaena was mildly impressed that a novice had the foresight to take algebra, but in all likelihood, the girl had only done it to get it out of the way.

One took the The Impact of Trade on Ancient War early to get it out of the way. Rhykana’s disregard for the subject at hand was more than enough to outweigh the fact that she had managed to take it before her Arches.

“Tell me, did you merely memorize these things, or do you understand them?” Wilhelmaena watched her young pupil with a fierce, cold gaze. She had very little patience for those who wasted the opportunity the Tower provided for an equal footing, no matter which background one had in life. All Aes Sedai had sat in classrooms, but not all of them were educated.

Her lips pinched into a thin line of dissatisfaction at the child’s answer.

“Understanding mathematics is more than being able to demonstrate your knowledge come test-time. It is the ability to apply what you have learned beyond parchment. Mathematics is logic. Any phenomenon in the natural world can be described, explained, and predicted with the correct equation. Mathematics are the laws that govern the Pattern and the Lace of Ages, child. It is more than a silly entity in the sky spinning a silly Wheel in his spare time.

“We’ll start small. If I went into Hama Valon and spent 42 silvers on a new dress, and that was 14 silvers less than twice what I spent on new slippers, how much did my slippers cost?”

That was the first of many application problems for the afternoon. It was a simple review of what she should have already known, but it was easy to see that Rhykana had not kept up her studies after being let off of Edriene’s apron strings. Nevertheless, Wilhelmaena was pleased to see that her pupil was willing to work, and did not shirk off responsibility like so many other novices.

“You’ve done well enough,” she said dryly, sometime after the tenth (and most “difficult” equation) “But it will be a very long time before your grasp is adequate. But are you willing to work harder? Do you understand my meaning when I say that knowledge is power? And most importantly: are you worth my time, Rhykana Meran?”

Lydarian wanted to uproot her, did she? Replace her with some pretty Andoran plaything? Two could play at that game; in all likelihood, Lydarian had offered her something fleeting. Love, Adoration, a pretty new weave… Nothing as eternal as knowledge. And to her shock, Wilhelmaena was interested in… retaining the child. It was beyond rare that Lydarian managed to find a girl that was worth speaking to. That she found one that her voice in the Hall also endorsed? It had not ever happened before. She might even come to like the child, soon as she learned to keep her surly attitude under control.

[Bridget]

If there was one thing about Wilhelmaena that Rhyka could respect, it was her all consuming love for mathematics. The woman showed it in her ire, her disappointment that Rhyka lacked that logical something that Wila had in spades. But the understanding did not make the experience any easier.

It was torture to hold her body in the servile hunch of a servant that she had abandoned years ago, at the beginning of her tenure as a novice. It was an exercise of self-will to prevent her body from vibrating with the tension of her own rage, to make the desperate bid for the void again and again, as Wilhelmaena dragged her away from calm time after time with harsh words and stares and sniffs.

And problems. Each new piece of mathematics moved further and further away from what she remembered, from what Edriene had ever taught. Rhyka was left grasping at straws, dragging bits of half remembered lectures from the very back of her memory, to make increasingly off-centered intellectual stabs at each new problem. And with each failure, Wilhelmaena’s disappointment became more and more palpable, like steam rising from a boiling kettle. Rhyka burned with resentment. The White Sitter knew very well what she could be expected to know; she knew that her problems were well passed the boundary of the class she had taken. Her knuckles were white from the grip around her pen. It was a wonder that her face was not white with rage.

Well enough? Well enough? The words sent her spinning. She had solved problems of which she had never seen the like before. She had bloody well solved them. Well enough? Only the knowledge, already dim and faint in her mind, that this was a test, only a test, kept her from snapping. The flame and void was far beyond her reach now.

“Am I worth your time?” She parroted, her anger reaching a crescendo she had not known she was capable of. Rhyka trembled with it, her eyes narrowing. Who was this woman, this noble cow, to ask such things from her? She would be worth ten of this woman, by the time she was Aes Sedai.

You will curtsey to me. Rhyka thought fiercely at the stupid sow, her gaze boring into the White Sitter’s face. You will treat me with respect bordering on servitude. You will follow my every command. I will be Aes Sedai, and I will master you!

The rage drove her thoughts from her mind, shuttering her logic and sense in white-hot anger. “And what is your time worth, Wilhelmaena?” She asked, contemptuous. “What power do you have? You are nothing more than Lydie’s little bitch.” Rhyka reached forward, grasping Wilhelmaena’s chin in a flash. “You question my adequacy? You, a Sitter of the White, who scrapes and bows to the likes of Lydie?” She tossed Wilhelmaena’s face aside, disgusted. “I do not need to be adequate to you.”

[Stasia]

Wilhelmaena Osiellin, PSC Wilhelmaena smiled. The expression was fleeting - and her gaze remained hard.

Lydarian really has chosen well... The child looked fit to burst with rage; whatever semblance of control she had earlier had vanished like morning dew under a summer sun. "Am I worth your time? And what is your time worth, Wilhelmaena? What power do you have? You are nothing more than Lydie's. Little. Bitch." The girl let her quill clatter to the table and her hand snaked forward, where it eventually pulled at her chin - hard. Wilhelmaena kept from flinching, but only barely. Though everything in her screamed to slap away the novice's hand and then strike her skull against the wall, she could not help but be... Impressed. Rhykana would be difficult to control. But she would be an asset, as long as she could keep out from underneath the Mistress of Novice's nose.

She admired her strength. It felt vile to admit it, and though she could keep secrets better than most, she could not lie to herself.

"You question my adequacy? You, a Sitter of the White, who scrapes and bows to the likes of Lydie?" The child finally relented, and released her chin; Wilhelmaena did not give her the statisfaction of rubbing at it, even though it still stung. "I do not need to be adequate to you."

"Perhaps not," the Aes Sedai conceded, calmly staring the girl down, "But talking like that is a very easy way to get yourself killed. You think Lydarian Sedai would offer you protection? You think that you could protect yourself? You dabble in oceans as if they were little more than puddles - and that, Novice Meran, is a very easy way to find yourself on someone's else's hook, rather than doing the fishing yourself." Why I don't kill you now is beyond me... But you have impressed me. Push too far, though, and Rhyana would be a much less impressive pile of flesh for a Trolloc cookpot.

"Your spirit is strong - I don't wish to break you. But I will have little pity for you if your tongue digs a grave too deep for the Pattern to find you again. I offer my guidance; take it or leave it."