The Grey Tower

With an expression of great tranquility and composure, Elia turned the square of crisp white paper over and over again between her fingers. There was a lot to learn from this one, simple object. Her eyes noted the slight crookedness to the fold, indicating that it was to be passed on without looking. The fact it was square meant that it should have been burnt after reading, but occasionally - very ocassionally - things slipped by the Asha'man she was charged to look over. The handwriting on the front was beautifully written. A woman's hand, someone with a goodly amount of education. Just six simple letters on the outside, and very little within.

Elia brought the letter to her nose. No scent of perfume, or of flowers. Whomever wrote these letters liked their flowers. A botanist, perhaps? There were a small clique of Aes Sedai and Asha'man who tended to the gardens. Some were even Plantweavers. She knew the names of each and every one of them - it wasn't just the Black Ajah that kept track of people. No talent known by anyone in the Tower wasn't also known to the Indigo Ajah, and by extension of her position, to Elia herself.

Elia let the letter go, dropping it to the low table in the middle of the room. With a slight effort, she sat up on the chaise longue and got to her feet. She didn't have the luxury to spend all afternoon looking at a letter in a vain effort to identify its sender. She would just have to be patient.

She crossed to the other table in the room, upon which sat her tea set. Channelling a small thread of Fire in the teapot quickly made steam spout forth. Placing one of the tea flowers into a cup, she poured the water carefully, and watched the beauty of the blossom unfolding as the water flavoured.

The bells across the Grey Tower rang out, indicating a change in activities. Elia knew it was now the second free hour for Accepted, and hopefully the servant she'd sent out would now be intercepting one Avyra Moeryr, newly raised to the ring. Whilst the majority of her time as of late concerned the Black Ajah, she still remained a sister of the Indigo, and had duties there to attend to as well. And who knows, maybe I can scoop her into two different Ajahs at once, if she seems suited.

A few minutes later, there was the expected timid knock on the door. Who knows what ran through the minds of Accepted when they were summoned to see a Sitter of the Hall. Elia had been petrified meeting the Keeper of the Chronicles once, not aided in the slightest by the presence of the Keeper of the Archives, Jaryd as it was then. She touched her neck in memory of that day. She had been so young and afraid, so unsure of herself. Elia Darrow the Accepted would have baulked at the woman she had become, but then even now, Elia Darrow the Aes Sedai wished that her life had turned out differently.

"Come in, Avyra," she called. A prior meeting with the girl had established a first name basis, once she would continue as long as the child remembered the correct respect. Elia had worked too long and too hard to let anyone forget exactly who she was, and how high she stood.

Elia sat on the chair furthest from the door, which also happened to be the only chair that faced the door. Avyra nodded respectfully, but it wasn't the curtsey she expected of an Accepted. A nod was fine from other sisters, perhaps.

"Would you like some tea?" Elia made the merest indication with her hand towards the tea set, which sat about as far away in the room as one could get. Her own cup and saucer were balanced delicately on her lap, the pale flowery design contrasting violently with the crimson Taraboner dress she'd caught herself wearing a fair amount recently. "There is honey and cream, if that's how you take it."

Elia inspected the young woman behind the ageless face of an Aes Sedai. She was Cairhienin, which unfavourably made her think of Mirin, but beyond the similar height there was little resemblance between the two. Wavey brown hair fell about the Accepted's shoulders, framing a face that wasn't quite pretty, but had the grace of youth. Green eyes shone out from that young face, with a fire that reminded Elia of her old roommate when she was a novice. It wasn't too much of a mental challenge to see the tempestuous girl that her brother had described before her.

The Shienaran smiled warmly once Avyra had decided on her tea. "Take a chair." Purposefully, Elia adjusted her accent to include just a touch of Cairhien. Only enough to make her sound faintly colloquial, to ease some of the tension from their conversation. "I had heard that you recently had earned your ring. My congratulations, Avyra. It is not an easy path you have embarked on, but you have succeeded in one of its greatest challenges." Elia paused to sip on her tea, giving the praise time to have its effect. "So now you wear the dress of an Accepted, one step closer to the shawl." The Aes Sedai's eyes twinkled in amusement - there was a very long road ahead to reach the shawl, even if Accepted did tend to act like near-Aes Sedai around the novices and soldiers. "Have you given any thought as to which Ajah you may consider joining, when the question is asked of you?"

The Aes Sedai slowly sipped on her tea to let the other woman speak out her thoughts. It was a pleasant experience, hearing someone with a Cairhienin tongue speaking politely to her, with due deference. Elia's heart-shaped face relaxed into an expression of friendliness.

"I can see you with the shawl of the Green Ajah on your shoulders, if everything my brother says is true. You seem to have the burning heart of a warrior within you, by all accounts. You've been keeping the Mistress of Novices very busy with your 'enthusiasm'." The Shienaran smiled broadly, teeth flashing in amusement. "I wonder, does this thought have anything to do with those strapping young men in the Yards, or the women perhaps?" She grinned again, but hid it this time with her teacup. When she lowered it again to her saucer, she waved a hand dismissively. "Don't trouble yourself with worry, I can see the appeal of it. They make temptation easy to consider."

She raised a hand to her face, pinching her lower lip between thumb and forefinger. "Keeping your options open is a prudent idea. It is, as you say, a life-binding decision. Your choice will be your Ajah until your thread ends in this turning of the Wheel, and nothing can break that." Goose pimples rose over her forearms.

"Once you are an Aes Sedai, you can travel freely from the Tower. Maybe with your coterie of Warders?" Again a grin, bemusement lining the Aes Sedai's words. "All of the Ajahs have need of people to venture forth from the Tower. For our part in the Indigo Ajah, we seek out the mysteries of the world where it concerns the One Power, or any of the gifts the Creator has blessed us." Elia placed teacup and saucer on the corner of the low table, and rose from her chair. Without a word or explanation, she glided towards the door into her bedchamber, and disappeared inside for a few moments. When she returned, she held something strange in her hands. Returning to her seat, she placed the object on the table between them. It was a narrow cylinder, about the length of a large man's hand, and made from clear-coloured crystal. There appeared to be a yellow liquid suspended inside it, eddies showing a slow swirling of the fluid inside.

"This is a part of what we do. It is a ter'angreal that we recovered from the Three-fold Land, or the Aiel Waste as you probably call it. We search and seek out objects of the Power, to study them, and to ensure that no-one uses them unwisely. Some of them can be very dangerous, which is the reason we seldom let anyone but a full brother or sister of the Tower study them." She sat forward, taking in the ter'angreal. "The liquid inside changes colours for reasons we have yet to determine. We also don't know what the different colours represent. But it was forged with the One Power, for a purpose."

It was a fascinating object just to look it for a time. There was always a beauty to ter'angreal, something to do with how the One Power transmuted the base material into something otherworldly. Yet this piece was a step above. Such a trouble I haven't divined its reason for being yet. Her lips pursed together slightly in frustration.

Elia pulled her eyes away from the object with some reluctance. "We have those who seek out ter'angreal and angreal and the rare sa'angreal within the Ajah. We have others who spend their time studying these wonderful lost treasures. And yet others seek to create new ter'angreal. Tell me Avyra, how do ter'angreal interest you? Is this something you have considered pursuing?"

Elia resisted the urge to sigh, but it was a struggle. The woman babbled with a mindless tongue as if she was a newly taken in novice. Using a ter'angreal as a decoration, fah! Had she not just said it that ter'angreal were dangerous, that they required an Aes Sedai or Asha'man to study them? She wants to put it on a shelf as some pretty bauble to gawk at.

"You cannot afford to be distracted," the Shienaran Sitter put in coolly. Distractions could be harmless, trivial endeavours, but not where Avyra Moeryr was concerned. She likely thought her little romp through Hama Valon in the middle of a siege was a mere distraction. The Light only knew what would have happened to them if she hadn't set out for the city herself. Mirin dead, alongside a handful more trainees. Maybe their carcasses should have been added to the pile of the dead.

She remained outwardly composed, regardless of what thoughts she had within. "Now think a moment. Do you think I would put something dangerous before you?" She shook her head in disappointment. "Focus. I want you to tell me what you can about this ter'angreal." Elia opened herself up to the Source, and the Accepted would have seen the nimbus of light illuminating her. The Sitter gave a patient nod - permission to similarly embrace saidar. If anything went wrong, she could place a shield between Avyra and the One Power.

She didn't sigh, but she also didn't hold back an irritated tsking sound and a clicking of her tongue. The woman thought this was some sort of grandiose spectacle for her amusement alone. The Light knows what discipline is being handed out these days. Mirin was clearly far too busy making political manoeuvrings to pay close attention to her public role. This sort of hubris and cheeky playful retorts were unbecoming of an Accepted of the Grey Tower, and if the Mistress of Novices couldn't discipline her students, Elia Darrow would. The punishment for this would come later of course, although she was already thinking about her bar of soap and washbasin in her bedroom. The woman would learn civility, or she would become intimately familiar with the taste of juniper and rosemary.

Elia drew herself up so she was straight backed. Her glare matched the tone of his voice: pure frost. If words held power, Avyra would have been frozen to the spot. "I ask the questions. You do not. Now try, child. Give me something other than your most obvious observations."

She was hardly being too firm with the woman. Newer novices got led about like a cow in market, but Accepted were expected to mentor and teach. How can she teach when she can't think for herself? It's not like every new novice to the Tower was exactly the same - the woman would have to adapt to the situations presented to her. Elia had already crossed the obvious threshold for Avyra by allowing the Accepted to embrace saidar. There was no need to hold the One Power if examination of the ter'angreal didn't require the Power.