A World of Trouble (Attn: Andy)

[Craig]

Zarayne

Zarayne kept her eyes shut and her breathing regular as she listened to the sounds of her roommate moving about. She was acutely aware of the time, and how long Affie was taking to get ready, but there was nothing to be done about it. She just waited for the "Ok, going now" and the slam of their door before moving.

It had been like this for days now, waiting for Affie to slip away before getting out of bed. Maybe the Altaran thought Zarayne was simply being modest, embarrassed to get dressed before her. That would have been funny, if not for the true cause.

Now up, she gingerly slipped a fresh white dress over her head. Twinges of fire-hot agony shot up from her shoulders to the ends of her fingernails, drawing out painful hisses and gasps as she pulled her hand through the other end, then forced the rest of the dress down around her shift. She turned to consider herself in the mirror. The novice's dress completely concealed the bruises that covered her upper arms. There was still a red patch on her cheek, but it looked more like a rash than the result of a cane hitting her.

Zarayne had run afoul of an Accepted called Belaida.

It was that fact which sent her off not towards the dining halls for breakfast, but towards the Warder Yards.

Water splashed around her slippered feet as she marched northwards. It had been raining overnight, and there hadn't been enough time for it to evaporate. Zarayne didn't care how sodden her feet were getting, just so long as she could dodge a few hours of classes. Not at all honourable, and not at all clever, but she needed time away from the Tower. Novices and Accepted often grouped together to gawk at the Gaidin, and she hoped she would simply be mistaken for one of those gawkers for a while.

Her slippers were soaked right through by the time she made it to the yards, and brown splash marks covered the lower half of her skirts. She found a bench near to one of the fenced-off enclosures and plonked herself down, staring out at the field of men and women training without much interest. She was the only novice or Accepted there at this hour, and stood out like a sore thumb with her height and flame-red hair, but she didn't care. She left her mind to wander, and hopes no-one would find her to mete out her punishment any time soon.

[Andy]

Physical training was fast becoming the bane of Alrim’s life. This was despite the fact that it was one of the few things he genuinely enjoyed about life at the Grey Tower. The thrill, the high after and the fact that he was quite good at it had nothing to do with it of course. Still, the body had its limits and they were pushed every day by a succession of Gaidin intent on breaking each of them in turn. Some had done so already, Alrim had refused to and so far was managing to stay ahead of expectations for once. On this morning he was part of a group on ten altogether, running circuits of the Yard again and again, and again. Thy did this every week or so just to see where everyone was in their development. He had managed to hear that by overhearing a Gaidin who might have been wrong but it was plausible. It was the last test before they would be afforded some small period of grace and collapsing to the ground with ragged breaths. So far they had navigated nets, hurdles, walls and more. They had been in and out of the Yards too which was unusual but inventive in extending the course somewhat. Now they were running laps until only one was left to stumble on, a neat way of seeing whom was at peak condition and a way for others to measure themselves against the so-called elite and hate them for it. Competition through adversity…bloody….masterminds even his thoughts were ragged now. It was a time when smarts trumped eagerness and he bowed out gracefully in the last three despite the fact he could have continued. Better to be near the top and have less resentment and more rest time. He made his way into the seating area, the honest stench of a hard morning’s labour lending him a sense of achievement. It was usually quiet at this time in the morning, not yet late enough for anyone to have much free time and out of the way enough that his fellow Drin opted not to push their legs to get to. He was not alone this time though, a white dressed Novice by the look and someone who looked uncomfortable to be there by her posture. Never one to miss the opportunity to spend time with a lass he made his way stolidly, if slightly unsteadily, towards her as he wiped his brow with his forearm and through his hair, a small pang of annoyance mixed with shame as he felt the short, roughly cropped hair. A lesson he would soon not forget but also rail against for a long time to come. Outlook didn’t change overnight but discipline to avoid punishment was something easier to gain strides in - though he was still far from perfect. He had been largely left alone though since his visit from the Gaidin Captain, at least for negative reasons. He dismissed that for now as he slumped down on a bench next to the lass and leaned back to feel the cool wood upon his back, yet to seriously feel the sun’s warmth it was a boon indeed. “Going to be another long day I think,” he sighed, “bit early to see the likes of Novice though. Don’t usually come ‘round to goggle till later. Been here less’n a month and even I know that” he smiled tiredly. He looked at her and close up say she was a prodigious height, taller than he and her skin was a tone he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Might have been the freckles he conceded. Flame red hair though, that tugged at the memory of something he had heard but would not come through fully. He shrugged to himself, he was rarely in the know and he liked it that way. Less complications. “Still,” he continued, “nothing wrong with taking some time off, can’t say anything there I’m the Yard slacker according to some. Lasses be coming in here daily, don’t concern me what they do with their time. Alrim Farshera” he offered up by way of greeting. “Waiting for someone or just getting away from it?” he asked

[Craig]

Zarayne

Zarayne's attention was immediately drawn to the Drin who approached her. He looked familiar, like one of the children she grew up with, but that couldn't have been the case. His accent sounded all wrong, and he had strange ornamentations in his hair. Whenever his head moved, she thought she could hear music. That was certainly not a Shienaran tradition.

"I'm not here to goggle," she stated a touch briskly. Zarayne had a low opinion of those novices that daydreamed about their futures. "Only full sisters are allowed to bond, and the turnover of available Gaidin is quite high. Choosing a Warder at this juncture just seems unwise."

In spite of that, she took the time to look Alrim over from tip to toe. It was readily apparent he was new to the Yards; true muscles had yet to strain against the fit of his uniform. There was also the way he held himself, which spoke of a lackadaisical attitude, and his words confirmed it. The Yard slacker. He wasn't making much of an argument in favour of choosing him as a future Warder.

Then again, she wasn't making much of an argument today about being a hard-working Aes Sedai.

Zarayne looked Alrim straight in the eye. She had to project confidence, even when she didn't feel it, according to Belaida. "I see you, Alrim Farshera. My name is Zarayne. And I'm..." Her nose scrunched up as she sought for an evasion. "Getting away from it," she finished, using his words.

She pressed the sides of her slippers together, which had the unwelcoming effect of squeezing muddy water over her ankles. The feel of the squelching caused her to make a face.

"Sorry. I haven't been here long either, just a few months. But I'm surprised the teachers aren't rounding on you harder. They don't appreciate it when novices slack off." The irony of what she was saying was not lost on Zarayne. "But maybe it is easier in the Yards, I don't know. Can you tell me?" She could probably learn all of this from another source, but this moment happened to be opportune.

[Andy]

There was something odd with the way she spoke and her mannerisms, the way she held herself, that was unlike the majority of the snowdrops that came to visit the yard. He had to admit she was right about the turnover too, he knew the figures and rumour spread like wildfire amongst the Drin and Ji about the claws that came out when possession was contested. For all the talk of freedom of choice for Gaidin a decent Warder was a decent Warder and they were rarities, gold in a world of coppers. He shook his head slightly at that thought, it was hardly motivation to get back on the straight and narrow and forge himself into something better. Leave those thoughts for later, maybe stow some herbs and twine for the inevitable wounds to come he told himself cheerily. “I…see you Zarayne,” he responded slowly, it was a greeting he had never heard before, like a hunter respecting their prey enough to let them know the game was afoot, “and I can understand that. Sometimes it’s the only option” he nodded and cast his glance out at the Yard before them, those for whom the exercise had been too much were starting to gather now, slowly but surely. He noted the way her face contorted at the shifting of her feet, saw that her feet were dam and the fabric was muddy, hard to avoid these days. Winter was still warmer than Arafel though so h felt quite warm himself. He dreaded summer. A few glances were sent their way, they too saw the oddity given the time but were more intent upon food, water and what little sleep they might get before dressing to face the gruelling day of a Drin. Alrim was too alive for all that and he’d eat on the run like h always did, always had done. As for getting properly dressed, well his uniform was folded and ready to slip into. Logan raised his had from the group below and Alrim waved him away to let him know he should just get on with his side. He’d have enough time he reckoned and so turned his attention back to the woman nearby. “I’ll catch up with him later,” he stated simply, “sorry about that, the only friend I have here. Poor thing can’t run after a toddler and he eats for three people, let him get breakfast” he grinned. “As for being hard,” he snorted then as the memory of the infamous Arafellin scissors flashed briefly in his mind’s eye, “they can be quite inventive. Threats have been made, reasonable threats mind. Were going to cut off my bells they said but I’d say they’re seeing how I improve and just piling chores and tasks on my shoulders” he said in a wry tone. “As for right now, well…it’s breakfast and wash then to class. So long as I’m there on time an empty belly is my choice,” he reflected upon that and knew it to be implicit negative re-enforcement but he was not wholly reformed just yet, getting there, “after that its more classes, chores, getting hit around the Yard a bit with practise weapons, or fists. Then it’s lunch and…well you get the idea,” he winced involuntarily at the thought of the rest of the day, “I think they get their iron in us and just hammer away until it either breaks or turns into a weapon, I guess they care and want the latter but they can’t accept just anybody and there’s always being a Tower Guard, as they are fond of reminding us. Least we get to sleep at the end of the day” he shrugged. There was no use thinking about it really, ultimately he would be successful or he wouldn’t. He could train, strive and all the rest but he might still fail so he tried not to think about it. Instead he did what he could for others, when he could, and muddled through as best as possible. He eyed Zarayne, sure there was some judgement there - everyone seemed to in the Grey Tower - but he didn’t voice that thought. He still thought there was a slight stiffness about the way she was resting, as if she were in pain but then he had heard that Novices got caned and worse so he knew better than to ask. It did raise some sympathy in him though and his tone softened and grew slightly more serious. “I can run fast so I‘ll catch up, besides you were by yourself, never polite to let a lass be alone and not see if they‘re alright. It’s the only free time I’ll get today anyway, might as well use it wisely,” he cocked his head to the side slightly, “if you like I can even bring you some of the food if you‘re staying here a while, I never eat it all,“ he offered before moving onto his own curiosity, “What do Novices get up to if you don‘t mind me asking? I should imagine being able to channel lets you get things done easier right? Imagine you get lots of free time the way things get done, no?”

[Craig]

Zarayne

The world that Alrim described seemed familiar. They both had classes; they both did chores; and they both got beaten. In Alrim's case, that was a part of his training; Zarayne was less convinced of the merit of her own punishments. She cast a glance to the men and women in the Yard, briefly wishing she was one of them instead of stuck in her own predicament.

She looked back at Alrim, to his hair. She didn't understand why cutting out his bells was a 'reasonable threat', or even an unreasonable one. They weren't anything she'd really seen before. She chalked them down to another wetlander oddity, yet she wasn't going to dismiss his interest in them. "Are they important, the bells? Do they designate your rank or role within your... house?" Houses, she recalled, were the wetlander equivalent of clans. "I haven't seen anyone else from your house here." Or heard them. That did seem strange. Gaidin were, according to her father, trained for stealth amongst other things. Surely the bells work against that? Or maybe they were more important beyond the consideration of subtlety.

Zarayne wasn't sure what to say about that last. Why was he spending time with someone he didn't know, instead of doing something worthwhile? And what was 'a lass'? From the tone, she couldn't tell if that was a wetlander insult or something else entirely. She considered his offer of food, cognisant of the hole in her middle. "I could eat."

"Being a novice is..." She spread her hands. "It sounds much the same as being a Drin. We have classes on geography and history, maths and language, philosophy, the nature of the world, the One Power, the Shadow." She shook her head, leading to her pulling hair away from her face. "Then there's the chores. Father said novices and soldiers and Drin all share the same chores." She had mostly worked with other novices, but she had scrubbed pots with soldiers in the past. "And lastly there are the one-on-one sessions with Aes Sedai or Accepted, but they are few and far between." She hunched at that last statement in a subconscious attempt to make herself smaller. Pain radiated out from the bruises on her arms, making her grimace.

After the pain vanished, Zarayne straightened. "We aren't allowed to channel without an Accepted or Aes Sedai present, and then only when we're given permission. The rest of the time, it feels like we have to deny the sun." Her fingers stretched out, making the motions needed to summon a ball of light, but saidar sat in the distance with its ever-present temptation. She frowned, and directed that gaze at the Warder Hall. "I wish I didn't have to be here."

[Andy]

“No, not rank,” he chuckled, “I’d be worried if I ranked in Arafel. It’s a tradition, personal. It’s difficult to describe. They’re part of me, like a sword and a Blademaster. It’d be like cutting off my heritage” he failed in telling the whole of it, it was just ingrained. Never explained, just implicitly assumed. He shrugged at it, might as well have asked a Whitecloak to never wear his cloak. “No house either, not seen anyone from my town and family are…well I won’t be seeing them for a while at least. Common as muck anyway” He listened then, it was always good to hear how others lived he had found, or how they thought. Before it was out of the possibility for exploitation, amusement or otherwise. Now it was because it was demanded of him that he do so to protect others. He was not sure whether it was a major consideration that sometimes the mind needed as much as the body but he was a decent heart, for all his faults. He’d listen to anybody, especially if they were interesting. Or fun. Or attractive. There was a list somewhere in his head. Despite her words he wasn’t sure their life was at all the same, he had never really appreciated books but he thought he’d choose them over getting hit with wood for the hundredth time. If anything it seemed that he was being trained to be a shield and she was being trained to be the power. Scratching his cheek thoughtfully he wondered if that was how Warders were seen by their respective bondmate, a shield tog et hammers whilst they did…whatever they did. Maybe I’ve just been to the wrong classes he conceded. The grimace made him frown at the same time as her words about the One Power and the gesture she made with her hand puzzled him. Maybe you had to be able to channel to understand? Still, she was in pain and if it were bad enough that a simple movement could bring that face it was worse than he had suffered so far, and he got hit with wood! He leant forwards and shifted to get a better look at how she was sitting. Straight as a board, she had hunched before. Pressure pain? Is that normal for a Novice? “I don’t get any book classes but I get enough weapons and running to do me in before the Last Battle comes that’s for sure,” he said slowly, eyeing her still, “pain would be the number one thing I get so far. Seems much the same for you, I get punished often” he stated tentatively, he wasn’t sure if it was private or not but whatever it was it seemed harsh. He resolved to do something decent for her, she wasn’t out this early to gawk and she said she was getting away from whatever it was . That coupled with the grimaces of pain seemed to paint an ugly picture and he disliked ugly pictures. He stood up and stretched himself out to loosen his muscles. “Can’t speak for not wanting to be here, I feel the same but have little choice. The choice I can make, though, is to be nice. Wait here, be back quick, honest” he smiled and set off at a dead run. His quarters were close and given that he didn’t care for modesty he was already shirtless before the door was opened. He threw his sweat stained uniform to the bed, he would deal with it later. Rummaging in the chest at the bottom of his bed he pulled out new clothing and half-hopping, half-wriggling pulled them on. He snatched a pot too and pocketed it - salve. It had helped him but he didn’t really need it. It was a painful reminder anyway. That done he rebounded off the door as he exited and ran to get the food. “Hey Alrim,” Logan greeted him as he came alongside him and saw the plate the man had saved him, “sweet talking today are you?” “I never do such things, you know that” he took up the plate, it had cheese and cold meats and buttered bread as far as he could see, he didn’t look too closely as he was in a rush. “Just remember to get there on time you idiot!” Alrim crammed a bit of bread into his mouth and bowed as he left. He ate it long the way, something to fill the void until lunch, he had never been a big breakfast man at any rate. He arrived back with Zarayne and true to his word not long had passed. He was a little rumpled as he presented the plate to her but that was easily fixed in a handful of moments. “Future Gaidin to future Aes Sedai, food for the mighty” he slumped down next to her and breathed in deeply, endurance was one thing but dead runs were always tiring. “If I might ask, as someone asked me, if you don’t want to be here why are you here? Especially if it is painful” he asked when he had gotten his breath back.

[Craig]

Zarayne

The comment from Alrim about being in pain made Zarayne tense reflexively, which only served to remind her how bad her beatings from Accepted Belaida had been. Wincing again, she dropped any pretence of being fine, but she still kept her mouth shut on the subject. It was a private punishment, which meant it was between her and Belaida. I just have to learn to do better.

When her companion set off towards the Warder Yards, Zee let a quiet moan out as she adjusted her position on the bench. There seemed no way to please or appease Belaida. The Accepted seemed to strike at her even when things were going well. But they are looking for perfection, not 'going well'. But if her mother had survived to become an Accepted of the Grey Tower, she had to have the staying power to do the same. And it's far too early to give up now.

Zarayne ignored the training going on in the yards and focused on the Warder Hall. She wondered what Alrim was doing in his bid to 'be nice'. She also wondered what her father was doing, or if he was even in the Warder Hall at this moment. Not that it mattered just now. She wasn't allowed to see him whenever she wanted, and saying she was meant to be in class at this moment, she doubted he would approve of her transgression.

The novice was staring at the Hall for a long time before she realised that Alrim was returning, and with a plate of food in hand. A smile blossomed across her face at the gesture. "Thank you," she said happily, taking the plate from his grasp. Cheese was laid on thickly atop the bread, and she started munching down on it as Alrim replenished his lungs.

She chewed down her mouthful of food before replying. "Mother sent me to the Tower, but I'm not too sure why." Raising a foot, she dug her big toe down into the ground in frustration. "I know she had a prophecy about the Tower, but that was supposed to be about her, not me. And my father's here. Maybe that was part of it."

[Andy]

“Don’t mention it,” he replied as he tore off a few morsels of bread from what was left in his free hand. It was richer than what he had pilfered before turning up at the doors of the Tower, that was one of the best parts about being where he was. The food was dense, plentiful and of good quality. He bit into the crust some more to feel that delightful crunch mixed with the salty smoothness of the yellow gold smeared atop. Truth be told he only needed a little of a morning but he tried to enjoy to all the same. As he chewed he took the pot of salve, half-empty though it was now, and placed it neatly upon the bench next to her. It was a family concoction from a mother who disliked what he had become but still loved, he thought, and knew her son like only on who had carried him ever could. He said nothing, simply left it there and if she didn’t take it when they parted company there it would remain. He had no use for it anymore, he was getting decent enough at most things to not need it too often. Someone should get a use out of it before it wastes and she looks like she’s been beaten twice over he told himself. She had dropped the mask now, that was a good sign. It did mean that her features were marred with intermittent shows of pain which annoyed him. Despite all things he believed in fairness. It was the main reason he had never fought against the punishments he had accrued, he knew they were just. He saw no justice in mere pain. Perhaps he didn’t understand, or perhaps there was a true reason for it. Still, he didn’t like it. “Prophecy? Father?” he asked, his curiosity captured, “who is your father? As to prophecy…hard it’s a tricky beast. Might be by being about her it’s about her children?” he wondered aloud before shrugging. The future was a closed book to him, something he had a vague idea about what he wanted but dwelt little on. He found that it only served to highlight how little he had in the present. Besides which he wasn’t a smart and tutored noble, his stock was common and prone to wild rumour and gossip. He had learnt to take such uttering with scepticism. “There’s a library might help? Did she not say anything to you before she sent you? Do anything?” he asked. He found it strange, even his father had said goodbye, though mostly to affirm the situation. “Don’t know much about those sort of things, never been very smart. It’s why I always end in trouble” he grinned.

[Craig]

Zarayne

In retrospect, the Aielwoman probably shouldn't have mentioned the vision her mother had seen, nor called it a prophecy. Alas, the words couldn't be taken back now. The best way to move past the topic was to address it quickly. "I don't think there are any books here that can help. It was something she saw when she was young, which should have related to her, but it involved coming to the Grey Tower. And I'm her only child," Zarayne corrected. "I have no first sisters."

Zarayne looked back at the Warder Hall when she continued. "My father is Ravak Darrow, the Gaidin Captain. We only just met, so I can't say I am familiar with him, but he seems to mean well." The joy of their first proper meeting had been tinged with the upset it had caused Kaira Darrow. That was an outstanding problem she still sought to rectify.

She finished off the rest of the bread and cheese in her hand, which helped to fill the hole in her middle. Staring at Alrim through long lashes, she added "you may not be smart, but you are kind Alrim. That means a lot."

[Andy]

First sisters? That’s s strange way of putting things? he told himself, chewing slowly and wondering. She dealt with the topic brusquely, almost dismissively but not quite. It was as if she addressed it and then shifted away from it purposefully. Perhaps she didn’t want to talk about it, perhaps it was one of those things that were uncomfortable, private. Yet then why bring it up? He didn’t know, he never claimed to understand women let alone those who were clearly from elsewhere. The height, the speech, the mannerisms - she was foreign to him. That made her interesting. “First sisters? You mean siblings?” he asked, “never heard it called that before. But then never been outside Arafel before. Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?” It was the next bit that made hi wish, however briefly, that he hadn’t eaten anything himself. Just as he was about to swallow the name was mentioned and what might have normally been a sigh of surprise was morphed into a half-cough, half-choking sound as crumbs tried to go down the wrong passage. He managed to swallow and cough through the worst of it but his throat would be raw for a while he knew. He was talking to Ravak’s daughter! He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, bells jingling slightly. “Yes,” he got out once recovered, “yes he does mean well. I have talked to him before, once. He…offered me guidance. He seems a good man, if…sad. I don’t know him well enough. Perhaps one day. Have to make the rank first” he shrugged. Still, he knew her father now and that presented an opportunity. Not for himself, he was not that bad a person. For her, though, he could use that for her benefit. It was clear she was getting roughly treated. He suspected beyond the norm from the fact that most Novices, even punished ones, could move properly. Still, he was not sure he should get involved. It just annoyed him, watching her. She said he was kind, the look deep and thoughtful, and it brought a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. He was not used to compliments at all. “Uh, thank you, how much?” he said with a joking tone, “I, uh, do what I can. Wish more people noticed. Don’t think they value it as much as a strong sword arm. If there‘s anything else I can do for you just ask” he finished. “Are they…not kind to you then? Not even the other Novices or Accepted?” He rubbed his left shoulder with his right palm, kneading the tired muscle there, he still had not forgotten the crack of the lathe from his last sparring session, he was far from perfect and did they let him know it. He winced slightly before letting his hand fall back and rubbing his palms together. He grinned at her then, wondering if it was worth taking the whole morning off with her. She was better to look at than the grizzled fighters and less inclined to thump him than his fellow Drin as far as she had shown already. “How long are you taking the day off for? Because I know somewhere you could spend the whole day and not be found. Used it once or twice. It’s in the Gardens, a little nook surrounded by leaves and trees. Not sure anyone knows about it, or if they do never seen them there” he offered, a small gesture but everyone needed somewhere. Besides which grass and earth are softer than wood and stone he told himself. He wasn’t averse to sharing things, h was often greedy and drank and ate more than his fill but he wasn’t selfish. The two looked the same at times but there were big differences from where he was standing.