The Grey Tower

Drin'far'ji Ravak Darrow considered his time at the Grey Tower, his stay here having now lasted eleven months. The boy that had arrived in western Andor had been trained, beaten, educated, stressed, challenged and disciplined in a multitude of measures. He had learned a lot in the forms of the sword, in how to wield a quarterstaff, and even how to defend himself unarmed. He'd also schooled himself in non-martial pursuits, now more informed about Artur Hawkwing's reign that he had intended. Nonetheless, the Sheinaran had never learnt much about the limitations of the human body, and he had willfully ignored the Infirmary after his first visit. His body was a tapestry of reds and yellows and purples. He had hid the worst of that with his uniform, fortunate to have largely avoided any bruises to his face or hands. Until today.

Once more, Rav had tried to conceal his injuries from others. He was wearing the standard light grey uniform of the Drin'far'ji, although it had a bedraggled look, like he had put it on using one hand instead of two. That was actually the truth of the matter. His left hand had swollen, a dark mark forming over the knuckles. He had broken bones before, and the pain that radiated from his arm told him that he'd damaged himself here as well.

He stepped through a doorway into a large room. The walls were lined with beds, mostly occupied with men and women of all ranks. Various people also sat in chairs, clearly waiting to be seen by one of the healers. Novices and Soldiers moved about on errands, fetching and sterilsing bandages. Accepted and Dedicated watched over the work of full Brothers and Sisters, or gathered herbs to make salves and unguents. Ravak took a seat amongst the broken, adding to their numbers, and waited for his opportunity to be seen.

Since her first trip to the Infirmary all those months ago, Betrys had settled into a routine of tending to her other classes, working on her herb-lore and embracing the opportunity to spend the remainder of her time assisting others with the efforts towards Healing.

While not a full sister or member of the Yellow Ajah, there remained much that could be accomplished with simple knowledge and a gentle but firm hand towards the tending of others who were hurting "Ravak Darrow is it nae?" she questioned lightly, rather surprised to see him here while she was working. It had been a rather significant amount of time since they'd been in each others company but she had always been rather good at recalling the faces of the people who she met.

Especially in the Grey Tower, there were times when she made mistakes - but that was true of most folks and it was hardly a surprise she would shared in that number "...yer been falling about the place?" it was designed to tease him but her eyes were perfectly adept at picking out the details which suggested he was genuinely in need.

"We're ready now fer yer...by we, I mean me. Coming?" she asked, and turned to one side, gently suggesting he rise and follow her to a small room off the side. It was more of an alcove really but it would give them the privacy to talk about his needs and allow her to perform an examination should that be necessary without worrying about flashing his parts all about the room.

Ravak nodded at Betrys' first question, and grinned at the second. The Shienaran was always glad to find himself in the company of those with a sense of humour; the Training Yards were notably humourless, most of the time. He rose from the chair with discomfort, but kept the pain from his face.

He accidentally mimicked her accent with the first word, then shifted back into his own cadence. "Aye, fell on my training sword a few times." He glanced at his hand, and it had indeed been a training sword that had caused it, just not his own. If it wasn't a sword, it had been a quarterstaff or a fist that'd made all of these injuries. He wondered if he would get to Ji'alantin without having a single spar in which he didn't get hit.

Rav was a little surprised that Betrys led him off into a private room, not thinking he merited such attention, but he accepted in silence. He glanced at the bed and the chair beside, and took a seat on the edge of the matress. I'm the sick one, I guess. She stood close by, already peering down at his mishapen and discoloured hand. "I reckon I've broken it," he stated in response to her look.

With his good hand, the right, he stated to awkwardly unbutton his tunic. There were possibly other broken bones, the pain in his hand mostly concealing his other hurts. Rav thought a look crossed her face has he started to unclothe, probably mild surprise at the extent of his injuries. At least, that's what he thought he saw. His body was a mess of contusions and marks, largely untreated from successive months of fighting. With a struggle, and a lot of pain as he pulled the sleeve off his left arm, he sat there bare from the waist up. "I probably should have heeded your advice more often, and come to see about all of this sooner." He produced a good-natured grin, but in truth, he was feeling a little bit harebrained about not having done something earlier.

Betrys knew that her accent much like her particular style of her braid marked her own and apart from the rest of the Accepted and in general from the other female channelers. While she didn't give much thought about it, Betrys had realized it made it easier to pick her out in terms of a description "Ya fell on it? Surely nae...here I thought yer were a skilled warrior?" she wasn't all that worried about teasing him, their last conversation had suggested that he could handle it.

After all, they'd covered several different and delicate topics which made it fairly certain that he could hold his own, even in a situation like this "Aye, tis broken and in at least two places" she confirmed, taking the hand and carefully, slowly running her other hand over the surface of the hand as she caressed the shape of it "Now yer going tae be telling what else yer hiding, hmm? Less yer are seriously telling me that ya be one of the few who ain't about tae lie to be all bold-faced" Betrys looked him steadily in the eye, not quite smiling but her experience clearly gave the edge that understood some men - especially those who wanted to train to the role of a potential Warder - tended to be daft about giving the full details in relation to their hurts.

"I'll need tae set and bind these...yer going tae need the hand - can yer rest it at all?" Betrys asked. The use of Weaves intended for Healing were not meant to be done casually or without some careful consideration of the facts of the individual.

Betrys took a deep breath and waited.

"So why did ya need nae come an call on the Healers sooner?" she asked, deciding to ask that question as well and see if he'd answer it.

Ravak tried to relax the contorted mess of a hand as best as he could. It was a knot of pain, raw and sensitive. That pain masked Betrys' tender touch as she examined it. "Aye, 'tis broken, and in at least two places." A slight look of surprise crossed his face; he had expected more bones to be broken, based on the scale of the agony firing down his forearm. "Now yer going tae be telling what else yer hiding, hmm?" Yes, I guess this had to be faced. Betrys was giving the red-haired Shienaran a resolved look. He wilted somewhat under that appraising stare.

"You can see the bruises," Ravak replied in a flat tone. He wasn't proud of them. He wasn't going to strut around like a peacock, flashing purples and yellows as evidence of his perseverance and willpower. Nor was he planning to run to the Infirmary every time he got skelped by a wooden sword. "I'm afraid that you're going to have to tell me if anything else is broken," he replied honestly.

Rav wilted again with the dark-haired Accepted's next question. "So why did ya nae come an' call on the Healers sooner?" Rising heat brightened already red cheeks. He wanted to reply with honour, but that would besmirch the purity and meaning of those words. He assumed the actual answer, that the pain was a constant reminder that he had a long way yet to develop into the fighter he needed to be, would just earn him a scornful look. A short moment of silence passed, before he thought of a more suitable answer.

"I really don't wish to trouble anyone over minor cuts and scrapes." That may sound bull-headed, but that earned the sort of disdain he could handle. "In truth, I don't know what sort of injuries merit the attention of the Infirmary. I'm not wasting your time, am I?" Somehow he doubted it. His hand needed to be set, otherwise he really would have to work on sword techniques with his right hand.

Betrys hadn't spent a lot of time extolling her work in learning to use saidar to effect Healing but she had started to show improvements - at least her teachers seemed to be impressed with her willingness and determination. She knew she wasn't always the most capable or natural student but that didn't prevent Betrys from being tenacious when she truly set her mind to achieving something "Aye, I can see them, dinnae mean I dislike hearing ya speak about it" she pointed out warmly "Best to be sure of these things and yer telling will reveal more than my poking and prodding and be a dammed sight less painful" Betrys explained and again smiled at him.

While she might not be among the more powerful of channelers, there were very few who could match her compassion and generosity of spirit "I could give ya a sight long lecture on the effects of an infection on the body - it isnae pretty and yer a daft bizzum nae tae come sooner. We are here to help" she insisted and tutted under her breath.

She continued to hold his hand, gently pressing her fingers into the skin before she slowly released a gently flow purely of a Spirit Weave to connect along and examine the damage that he had inflicted on himself as a result of his efforts in training. Betrys knew that there could be a degree of hurt being done during such things but parts of it seemed a touch excessive.

Ravak shifted aching muscles, and twisted his torso slightly to probe for other pains. There was a bar of discomfort along his upper back, where a quarterstaff had impacted, but he didn't sense the acute pain that indicated serious damage. His shoulders had taken quite a lot of punishment, with a large purple mark along his left collar bone from where a practice sword had landed, and a red welt along the top of his right shoulder from a baton. Rav gingerly felt along the collar bone with his good hand, and grimaced as he touched the bruise. "I think it's quite likely I've broken something here too," he indicated with a sheepish grin.

The rest of his body felt fine, but only by comparison. If he had broken anything obvious before now, it wouldn't have taken this long to attend the Infirmary. And even now, despite Betrys' gentle chastisement, he still wasn't convinced if he'd return unless another serious injury forced him to do so. He glanced up into grey eyes, and felt his hubris fall away a little. Maybe he could spare a little bit more time on getting mended, and a little bit less time getting hurt.

Ravak sniffed, and instantly regretted it. The unmistakeable smell of violence was strong here, which was no surprise. He himself contributed to that, fresh from sparring as he was. He rubbed at his nose in an effort to suppress any more air getting in, but that bitter aftertaste was already on his tongue.

Hands ringed by the colourful bands of an Accepted's dress examined the broken bones. Even through the pain, he felt a tingle in his hand that had nothing to do with her touch. He frowned half in curiosity, half from the rank scent in the air that only he could detect. He opened his mouth to ask if she was doing anything with the One Power, and closed it realising how silly a question that may have sounded. He moved onto a different line of thought instead. There was something about their last conversation that he wanted to ask about.

"You mentioned, before that is, that you hadn't travelled far before coming to the Tower. Do you plan on returning home when you get an opportunity?"

"There are breaks there, yes..." she agreed.

Betrys was aware that she probably sounded a trifle more distant that she would normally be the case. Of course, that was due to the fact that part of her attention was gathered up in connecting to her patient as she allowed her initial Delve into his body and allowed her to understand what was needed for his care "Ya one fer getting hurt when yer training but yer shouldnae be ignoring it like yer been doing" she added, not at all interested in hearing any sort of argument about the matter.

She really didn't want to see him hurt as a result of him not tending to an injury that later ended up causing further problems as he struggled to adapt to the change in his physical condition "I...I've nae thought bout it; once I wanted only to go home but I'm coming tae understand that I canna really go back. I'm a different lass than the one who were packed off" would he understand? Did it matter? Betrys had been pained by the leaving and since the Arches and the challenges therein she had come to realize that any sort of positive homecoming was going to end up being impossible given all the changes that she had done through since.

"I suspect it may be fer the best tae leave them be. I'm nae sure when..." she stopped "Enough of me, what of yerself? Side from battering yer poor self bout the place, hmm? Are ya settling in?" she asked and moved to wash her hands in a small bowl which lay at one side "Also, two ways tae do this, one with the Power and the other wiv bandages and tonics, latter means bedrest fer a time..." Betrys explained and waited for his reply.

If there was one thing Rav was learning about Betrys, it was that she wasn't one to brook much argument. Mentally he relented, and would force himself to come to the Infirmary more often. He certainly wouldn't mind falling asleep without having to adjust his position several times just to get mildly comfy.

What she said about her own thoughts on homecoming echoed his own too closely. He had intended, instead of wanted, to return home. But aside from that, he also understood that he had a duty to the Tower as much as to Shienar, and he would have to meet each obligation without spurning the other. He glanced at his ring and shorn finger, thinking about home. Duty is heavier...

"Yes, I think I've settled in as well as could be expected." Honestly, he didn't know what the average expectations were for a Drin, or for an Accepted. "Chores, classes and training keep me busy, but I find time to go to the Gardens and the Tower Library. Sometimes I think I would have made a fine Brown, if I had the spark." He grinned at that last.

Rav had managed to avoid having the One Power used on him up to this point, but having an option between bedrest or not, he already knew his answer. "Healing," he replied with emphasis. "I'd rather not be cooped up if it can be avoided."

Betrys allowed her lips to twitch but that was all she allowed as a reaction to his answer. It was something she could relate towards, the dreaming of another life or another option that could have been possible. Everyone had those kinds of dreams "Really? A Brown?" well she wasn't teasing to overly that didn't mean that she couldn't have some fun with him.

It would probably help in making sure that he didn't allow the distraction of his pain to affect their conversation - there was after all no reason why this should be an uncomfortable experience, or at least no more than actually necessary "...I still hae trouble imagining making a choice about which Ajah I should be in..." Betrys allowed the Delving touch of the Weave she had already created to reform and connect to her patient, before one more allowing herself to see and grasp the various strands of colored light "Just relax, this willnae hurt" she assured him softly.

At least it had never happened when she'd done it before "Let me know if you feel anything uncomfortable" she added, after all she was new to all of this. Betrys laid the Weaving web over his body and fed the energy into it so as to allow her to connect and allow the Healing to take place properly. It would deal with the main breaks, including the hairline fractures that had arrived from the continuing strain that he'd been putting on himself "Yer needing tae be careful..." she blinked over her eyes briefly and shook her head slightly.