The Grey Tower

The Accepted had a rather strong grip on Tia's left arm as she guided the pair through various hallways within the Tower. The Accepted walked quickly, jerking Tia this way and that as they turned to the left or right. It was all Tia could do to not trip over her feet or spill the bucket of soapy water she carried in her other hand. "If you spill a drop, Novice, I will have you scrub halls all the way back to the kitchens."

Tia bit back the retort she wanted to give, as it was a smart remark that got her in this predicament in the first place. The young Tomason was not new to the concept of hierarchy, but she also was no fan of those who let power with position go to their head. When she bumped into the Accepted in the hallway, making the Accepted spill her beverage, Tia apologized. The apology was apparently not enough, and the Accepted saw fit to insult Tia's family.

Too proud and too stubborn to let such insults lie, Tia's come back isn't something that can be repeated in mixed company. The Accepted was on a bit of a power trip, but. . .Tia earned the punishment, and would swallow her pride that much, at least. She would not, though, tolerate insults to her family.

When the Accepted finally stopped and let go of Tia's arm with a push, she nodded down a dark hallway, "The floor of this hallway needs to be spotless. I expect it done within two hours. It better shine when I return." With that, the Accepted stormed off.

Looking down the long hallway, Tia groaned. It was a dark and very long hallway. How was she to see if it was actually spotless? Feeling she'd been set up to fail, Tia set down the bucket of soapy water. "At least I have an excuse to get my dress dirty," she mumbled to herself as she knelt down and started scrubbing.

Mirin was walking to the library for free study time as she saw Astoria stalking out of a side hallway. Mirin bit back a grimace. The other Accepted seemed a little... smug, even though there was a small wet stain dirtying her dress. Mirin rolled her eyes - anything that made Astoria happy couldn't be good. Over the years, the mutual dislike between the two women had gradually deepened to borderline hate. It didn't help that Mirin was stronger in the Power than Astoria, and thus was progressing through her lessons at a much faster rate - while Astoria was still slowly trudging along despite having gained the ring much earlier.

Astoria barely spared a glance for her short Cairhienin rival - instead, she went off to do...whatever she did in her spare time. Perhaps off to bumble a few more weaves, Mirin thought, spitefully. As soon as the other Accepted rounded the corner, Mirin peered curiously into the dark hall that her enemy had come from.

The hall was dark, and very long. It was rarely used, thus the darkness. To Mirin's surprise, she saw one of her students on her hands and knees, scrubbing at the floor.

She halted. "Tia? What happened?"

She listened to the story with growing ire. Never mind that Mirin herself would have probably done something similar if a silly little novice had bumped into her. In fact, Mirin would have thought the extra chore was for the novice's own good, and considered it lucky that the novice had accosted an Accepted instead of a full brother or sister, who would have imposed a much harsher punishment.

Mirin didn't think of that at all; instead, her expression grew cold and calculating. "That milk-faced chit," she muttered. She tilted her head to the side and regarded Tia with grey eyes that sparkled like broken ice. Mirin had been quite a prankster as a novice. Her playful - and slightly evil - tendencies hadn't faded after gaining the ring.

She pushed aside the thought of a revenge prank with regret. Oh, how she would have loved to see Astoria squirm! Still, it would be improper and completely irresponsible to scheme and plot with a novice.

"I have a few minutes of free time. Would you like some help?" she offered.

Tia's brows shot up when Accepted Mirin referred to the other Accepted as a milk faced chit. It was all she could do to stifle the giggle and turn it into a bit of a smirk. She began to wonder when those working to earn the Shawl learned to school their expressions and outward expression of their emotions. Part of her also wondered about the history between her instructor and the other Accepted. . .not that she would ask. . .it wouldn't seem proper.

The last thing Tia expected was an offer of help from another Accepted, and one who happened to be her teacher, at that. "I...uhh...," she stammered with her surprise, not certain how to respond. Pausing a moment to get her thoughts sorted, she finally replied, "I appreciate your offer to help, Accepted Mirin. Unfortunately, I must admit that I likely deserve the punishment the other Accepted delivered."

Looking down the dark hallway, the novice frowned, "I will admit I would rather the hallway not be quite so long, or quite so...dark." If she were an accepted, Tia might try channeling an orb of light, but she didn't need to add to her punishment.

Mirin's eyebrows shot up before she could school her expression to something neutral. This girl, unlike so many others, had actually accepted the punishment. She couldn't decide if she should be impressed by the girl's humility or astounded by her naïvety. Her lips twitched as though uncertain whether to smile or frown.

"I can't do anything about the length of the hall. But for the darkness..."

The Accepted embraced the Power and channeled, weaving Fire into a small, careful knot. The weave was simple, but Fire was far from her best element. In fact, she was downright miserable at it. Still, hours of patient practice paid off and the lanterns hanging from the wall flickered to life.

Mirin turned back to the novice.

"I commend you for not complaining about your punishment," she said. She made a mental note to inform Illyria Sedai about this event. Many girls came to the Tower with attitude problems and expected to be treated like princesses because they could channel. They were quickly disillusioned. But Tia had come in ready to work hard from day one and had accepted the difficulties of novice life with grace. Mirin felt a twinge of admiration. There were many stories about Tia's ancestors - some were nearly legendary - and it seemed that Tia had inherited the resilience, adaptability, and strength of her bloodline.

Yet how much of that came from the fact that the girl's great-great-grandmother, a woman who had seemed to come back from the dead, was the Amyrlin Seat? Or that her father, Gareth Tomosan, was one of the most skilled Healers of this Age? Mirin wondered if Tia knew that the adults around her watched her every move. Everyone expected great things from Tia. So far, the girl had seemed quite compliant with the plans set out for her - but how long would it take for her to rebel?

"Tia, I am curious about something. From what you know of the sisters and brothers of the Tower... what do you see for your future?" she asked.

The effort Tia put into her class with Mirin was starting to pay off, as she could see and sense the Accepted embracing Saidar. She could also see the thread of fire, and beamed when, just a moment later, the lanterns lit up. The long and ominously dark hallway was now just long She turned her beaming smile to Mirin, "Thank you, Accepted. This will make the task that much easier."

The Novice shrugged when her instructor commended her for not complaining. Tia was brought up to respect authority, and, perhaps more importantly, accept responsibility for one's actions. Her parents had a work ethic that they instilled on both of their children, encouraging them to work hard to reach their goals. Tia would not think to do anything but give her all with anything she put her mind to, and she certainly never expected special treatment because of who family was. Their achievements were their own, and it was up to her to become her own person with her own accomplishments.

Mirin's question about what Tia thought her future to be caught her off guard, though perhaps it shouldn't. Not all the Accepted seemed to take an interest in Tia's well being, but then why should they? She was just a novice, after all.

Furrowing her brows, Tia shrugged, "My future? To be honest, if you had asked me that question a few months ago, I would have told you my future was in the Warder Yards to follow in my Mother's footsteps." She made a quirky face and shrugged again, "The Wheel had other plans and now I wear this blast....I wear Novice White and follow in the footsteps of the channelers of my family. I do not think I have aspirations to be the Amyrlin Seat, but I do want to serve the Tower and become the best I can."

Tia placed the brush she'd been holding in the bucket before adding, "In other words, I do not know. The Wheel Weaves as the Wheel Will, or so we say. I have been thinking about the Ajahs, and I think I am interested in the Green because I wanted to be a Warder, and it is the battle Ajah, so there is a strong appeal there. Though, the Blue also appeals to me." She didn't mention that part of the reason those two Ajahs appealed was because of how much of a role model both Miahala Aes Sedai and Sadira Aes Sedai were to the young Tomason.

Green or Blue... To be honest, the thought of choosing an Ajah was never far from the Accepted's mind. The choice of Ajah would be one of the most important choices of her life. No one ever knew when she would be called to test for the shawl, and so she would still need to be ready to choose. Recently, Mirin had begun exploring the Blue Ajah and had discussed it with Nykkolaia Sedai. It had been a very interesting conversation.

And as for the Green, Mirin could never imagine herself in that Ajah. It was far too violent, bloody, and frightening. Since becoming Accepted, she had begun assisting the Healers in the infirmary. After seeing wounds, burns, and other terrible injuries, she knew that she would never volunteer to serve in battle.

Her forehead wrinkled as she raised her eyebrows. "Green? Aren't you afraid of getting hurt? Or dying?"

Tia tilted her head as her brows furrowed with the question. Setting the bucket down, she shook her head slowly, "To be honest? I don't think about it in such a way. I mean. . .if I hadn't the spark, I would be signing the roster for the Warder Yards soon. I see Gaidin and Gaidar putting their lives on the line just about every day for the good of the Tower." She wasn't one to mention her family every chance she got, as she didn't want it to be what those around her knew her for, though she couldn't always escape it. "I mean. . .I grew up hearing tales of the Tower, and of the Battle Ajah. . .of Warders putting their lives on the line to save their Wards, of Miahala Sedai and her Warder Master Ives fighting those who would seek to destroy the Tower, at the least, and mankind at the worst."

The Novice paused for a moment, moving an errant piece of hair from her eyes, "I know it may sound naive, but hearing such tales. . .it made me want to be a part of something bigger. I never wanted to just be a mother. I want to do something. . .make a difference in the world, and be a part of something." She felt a bit of heat on her cheeks, and she realized she was blushing, "I probably sound like a silly girl fantasizing about silly things."

Tia's parents didn't completely shelter her, though growing up in Duron, she led a simple life, and was sheltered from some of life's harsher realities. The stories of the Tower sparked her imagination, as did watching her mother with the bow and sword. Was she naive? Yes, in many ways, but she was still young enough that she saw the world through the eyes and idealism of a child. It wasn't something her parents discouraged, nor did they actively encourage it. She knew she was perhaps more fortunate than many, though she wasn't one to flaunt it.