The Grey Tower

As always Tel’aran’rhiod was mysterious in its workings.

The hour, where he had been, or even what he had doing had faded from mind once he entered the Dream world. For most it was place of secrecy, but in the recent years it had one of discovery. Where waking world restrained one’s potential the Dream encouraged, driving one to achieve their imagination’s desire.

Of course, nothing came without a cost.

Knowing this Valadin had returned. No sooner had he arrived did he find himself unexpectedly in the Tower Gardens. As always the ethereal light of the Dream touched the flowers making them glow softly and the prickling sensation of being watched by unseen eyes did not bother…as much.

Did I choose to come here? The question seemed to answer itself when a familiar voice drew his attention. “Accepted Liri,” Val greeted with a smile and a polite bow.

His garments shifted with the lay of his thoughts and soon he donned the proper blacks of an Asha’man in training. The Sword pin pinned to the lapels of his coat shone with an impossible shine as he straightened.

“No need for an apology. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” he continued. Here in the Dream world his tongue wasn’t as rough. Here, he could speak was finely as any noble-born though he doubted Lirievin would give much towards such things. In fact he doubted the young woman knew what he sounded like in the waking world. They’d never met there after all.

Touching a Blue Goatsflower bloom brought back a dream he’d encountered. A young Novice imagining what her Bel Tine would have been like had her ability to learn to channel not been discovered. In that dream he’d taken the form of a lad the girl had been pining after in her youth. Looking back now it seemed a bit tactless to invade such a private fantasy.

“You have questions?” Val asked without looking up from the flower. He and Liri were different. The boundary of student and mentor no longer applied; they stood as equals now.

It took effort not to recall what took place between them last time they’d met in the Dream. The dancing girl, beaming in her beautiful dress. The tormented grimace of the young woman who had suffered at the hands of a madman. The determined Accepted who refused a chance at vengeance. These things played through Val’s mind though his control here in the Dream kept them from bubbling to the surface.

Outwardly he appeared to study Liri with the sheepish grin he’d always greeted her with while waiting to aid where he could.