He's Back [attn: Ravak/Craig]

[Jiggity]

Avram

Strange things happen near the Blight... Avram had gone out with his patrol from Kandor as usual. No one had heard from him since. Years had passed, and he'd been assumed dead, like so many others that had gone into the Blight. Then he staggered back into the Citadel, looking as if hard months, but only months, had passed. His eyes were wild, covered in scars and wounds, hair unkempt. Each hand was missing a finger. He was immediately taken back to the Tower for healing and rest, away from the Blight.

Avram stirred, then his eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright, his hands flexing as he looked around wildly. He was already in the void. Restless sleepers rustled their sheets and murmured. Someone's shoes scuffed on the floor in the darkness. Fresh flowers filled the air with a scent he almost didn't recognize. The faint hint of blood was there and familiar, but it had been cleaned recently and even the last hint was fading.

His daggers were gone, but his clothes were next to the bed and he scrabbled for the wrist knives, strapping them on and testing them, before relaxing slightly back into the pillows. He was in the infirmary at the Tower. It was definitely different, but that wasn't too surprising since he had left it still mostly in ruins.

[Craig]

Ravak

He closed the door behind him, and with that action, prayed that everything would wondrously work itself out. He pressed his back against the door and tilted his head until his crown rested against the wood. Blood and bloody ashes. It was a strong curse, but it was internally delivered without any gusto.

Peeling himself away from Elia's doorway, Ravak Darrow only took a few steps before coming to another pause. His sister had a private room, both in deference to her injuries and her station. The ward beside it was filled with lower ranks and lesser injuries, all mostly asleep at this late hour. But there was one figure that moved and it drew the Gaidin Captain in. He crossed the chamber soundlessly in his soft boots, his approach partially concealed by his fancloak.

Rav stepped up to the foot of one bed and took its occupant in over one long glance. The face was at once familiar yet foreign. It was an expression he knew well, and from the reports he'd seen in the past, Ravak understood completely how they had come about. The Blight had that effect on people.

"It's good to see you again." Delivered in a tone of warmth, this was not likely to be the same Ravak Gaidin that Avram recalled from his days in the Training Yards. But then things had changed for him too, just in an upwards direction. Ravak pointed at the Ji'val's weapons. "You won't need those in here." Even though there were two weapons strapped to his own waist, there was no note of irony in the Shienaran's voice. He grabbed a chair and sat down beside Avram's bed. "How are you doing, lad?"

[Jiggity]

Avram

Ravak Gaidin had changed. He looked older now, much more so than Avram had expected. He still didn't seem to make any sort of noise when he moved and the combination of the fancloak and the dark gave Avram little enough warning that the blades flicked out reflexively before he recognized the man. It was the voice that had really changed though. Avram remembered a man who was, at least with learning ranks, standoffish, almost cold. Muireen had told him some stories that suggested otherwise, and the information he had gathered concurred, but Avram had never really heard softness or warmth in his voice.

Avram raised an eyebrow at the idea that he wouldn't need weapons here, and glanced at the ones hanging from the gaidin's belt. He allowed the blades to retract though, still feeling comfort in their weight and tightness on his wrists. "It's good to see you Ravak Gaidin." His voice was rough and came out oddly, almost a hint of a snarl underneath it. "I'm not going to say I'm doing well, or I wouldn't be here." He looked at his hands, the missing ring finger one hand and pinky on the other, the tracework of scars that had healed before he received the ministrations of the Tower Healers. "I'm doing better than I expected though."

Expectations were a fickle thing though. Avram reached back into his memories, he found more than a few gaps. "How long was I out for? I don't seem to remember all that much, and my sense of time is iffy in the best of places, let alone the Blight and... wherever else I was."

[Craig]

Ravak

Ravak scratched at his shaggy beard as he did the maths. "A while. Almost eight years, if you were asking how long you've been away. But if you mean how long you've been unconscious just now..." He just shrugged in response. "You'll need to ask one of the healers when they come by. I was only passing through to see my sister."

The brawny Gaidin leaned back into the chair, crossing his hands over his lap. "You look older, Avram." It was a reflection, not an insult. "And you've been to the Blight. That's... that can do things to a person. The Light knows I've seen some horrors there myself. Not somewhere I'd have eagerly sent someone like you, all things considered." It was so long ago, Rav couldn't even remember the conditions that led up to Avram's disappearance.

"What do you remember? You've got scars that weren't there previously, and well..." Ravak raised his right hand and wiggled his half-lengthed finger. "...I thought I had it bad," he grinned. "Where have you been?"

[Jiggity]

Avram

"Eight years." It came out flat. Avram didn't remember time well, but he remembered months. Definitely not years. "I would not have guessed that."

"I remember Kandor. The Citadel let me train with them some, and I rode some patrols with them. I remember going to respond to a raid and pursuing the Trollocs. The Blight was closer than we thought and we were in the worst of it before we realized." They had come to the realization slowly, warmer air and the stench eventually worming their way through the concentration on their prey.

He paused. "The band we were chasing found another. Most of us died." The last he half snarled out. The pain had been pushed back, but the anger had been stoked. He had done a lot with that group. He hadn't quite fit in with the native borderlanders, but they'd gone through a lot. And now they were dead. All of them.

"It gets... fuzzy after that. I remember Trollocs. Lots of trollocs. People sworn to the shadow. I think some were channelers. I remember running and hiding and killing and hurting and killing and hiding." His voice rose into a snarl before he stopped himself and visibly forced himself to recover his composure. It was harder than it should be, here in the Void.

"And then I was at the Citadel, and it was the wrong season and they brought me back. I... " He trailed off for a second. "It feels like forever, but the last I remember of this place was fire and chaos and destruction. It's so... peaceful now."

[Craig]

Ravak

Mention of the Blight drew as much reaction from Rav as the revelation that the sky was blue would have. The same for the Trollocs, even if a Ji'val should not have been exposed so early to the full horrors of the Blight. But Darkfriends? That was another matter, and it made the Gaidin Captain lean a touch forwards. He was immediately back on alert, acting as if he were the only Light-sworn individual for miles around. His hands slipped apart and moved towards the hilt of his blades.

In the Shienaran's understanding, people became Darkfriends for a number of reasons. Some swore themselves openly to the Dark One in some vain hope for glory or reward. Others found the Shadow some natural progression in their path within illicit professions, as if their brand of evil had anything to do with the machinations of the Shadow. Then there were others, those who had been turned. Rav knew it was possible to make a Darkfriend, regardless to their actual morals. It was a thing of near-myth, and maybe even something lost to the Age of Legends, but it had been real once.

When the Gaidin Captain next spoke, it was done so carefully. His voice was very painfully level, which only highlighted how little emotion he was placing in his words. "You have a talent, surviving amongst Shadowspawn and Darkfriends for so long. I'd love to know how you did it." His fingers brushed the hilts of his swords, and the part of his mind that was Miahala seemed on alert. He knew it was likely a reflection of his own thoughts, but at least he had someone guarding his back.

[Jiggity]

Avram

“I would too Ravak Gaidin.” Avram’s voice was flat, making it hard to tell if he meant it to be humorous. “I remember taking these,” he touched the gauntlets with the wrist blades “from a body. I remember killing with my hands and with a knife and with a trolloc’s sword.” Anger threatened the void again before he forced it back down. “And now I’m back. Most of me.” He half smiled as he glanced at his hands.

Blood sprayed from his finger. It was hot in his face, spattering in the face of the trolloc who had just swung wildly at him. Avram gritted his teeth and drove the blade under the hand into the monster’s throat. It dropped with a gurgle and Avram stumbled back, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming. He awkwardly cut a strip of cloth from his cloak and wrapped it tightly around the stump that was left.

Avram started back into the present. The void comforted him. In its depths he managed to look up at his training master. “What have I missed? You said it’s been eight years. When I left, the tower was in ruins. It looks like it’s been going really well since then. And you’re still around, so I can’t imagine anything has gone too wrong.” Ravak would die before he let bad things happen to the Warder Yards especially. And the way the last threat had gone, he would definitely have had a chance to do so.

[Craig]

Ravak

The Gaidin Captain found that an unsatisfactory answer. Naturally he had to consider if the person before him was still Avram. Sadly his sister hadn't found a Darkfriend detector amongst all of her ter'angreal, so digging towards the truth would not be easy. He'd been fooled by a Darkfriend in the past. Ravak had little intention of being fooled again.

Rav relaxed, which was to say that he leant back in the chair. His fingers still caressed the hilts of his blades. Answering the Ji'val's questions may get him towards the truth. The writer checked Ravak's tracker, just to confirm the timeline of events. "You've missed a fair bit. The Tower was in ruins when you left?" He scratched at his beard. Coincidence that Avram vanished at the same time the Black Ajah attacked the Tower? Except they had found the culprit...

"Well, the Novices' and Soldiers' Quarters have been rebuilt since that attack. The Black Ajah was responsible." The Gaidin watched for every reaction to that revelation. "The attacker was one of our own. Suffice to say, we are a lot more watchful for Darkfriends in our midsts now." Avram could learn later for himself that Mirin Sedai was the culprit. And that she's the mother of my daughter. It wasn't Rav who was on trial after all. "More recently we were attacked again. I'm not even sure by what. The Shadow stirs and we stand vigilant."

What was he doing? Was he being threatening, or warning, or just stating the facts? You don't threaten or warn Darkfriends; you kill them. But they were hardly at that juncture yet. Coincidences did happen. Avram vanished at the same time as the attack, but Mirin was the sole instigator. And he had reappeared just after this latest attack, but... but it was too obvious a ploy, surely? When the Shadow opted for being blatant, they used Trollocs. Darkfriends were sneaky bastards.

Ravak sighed. More questions, no answers. Well, he could provide answers. "Yeah, I'm still around. Hard to leave when everyone you know lives here."

[Jiggity]

Avram

"The Black Ajah. I suppose that was to be expected." Avram's voice came out flat. "Who else would have done it so subtly without doing something immediately after?" It was his inability to respond to that disaster that had driven him to the Citadel, trying to find a different way to be a Gaidin, or even just Ji'val. He was definitely different now. But a third attack? His mind was already turning over possibilities. "No matter how many holes are closed, the Shadow finds a way in through the cracks." he murmured, still thinking. "The Seanchan? But they were fought off before. They didn't get their name by not learning from their mistakes. If they attacked again it would have been more deadly not less. Nations would have sent armies. I can't think of any individual nobles with an axe to grind who would be use direct force by themselves. A coalition maybe? Possible. But who would they have used? Shelve it. Other enemies. Children of the Light? No channelers, but that might almost be an asset. Need more information."

He blinked. "I'm sorry Ravak Gaidin, my thoughts got away with me. Perhpas I'm not as awake as I thought." Certainly awake enough to stab someone, but he had fallen back into strategy so easily. It had been so soothing to look at a problem more immediate than his own survival. It had been a while. He certainly had never let himself think out loud like that before. He also hadn't felt anything close to safe in a long time though.

"I think I more meant that I can't find myself believing that anything truly awful would happen to the Tower, except over your dead body."

Bodies lay piled on the dirt, waiting to be put in a cookpot. Trolloc voices spoke, arguing over which to use first. Some had wanted live meat. Avram shuddered inside, but mastered his body and sat still. They could see him, but none believed that any intruder could be in camp. Humans only looked different to Trollocs if they were told to look hard. He might as well have been another body to them.

Avram jerked back to reality. "Sorry. Did you say something?" He looked at his hands, finding a sheen of sweat.

[Craig]

[font=Bubblegum+Sans name=Bubblegum Sans] Ravak [/font]

Ravak had said something, but only in the confines of his own mind. He wasn't becoming paranoid, but his wariness was being tested for sure. On the battlefield, it was easy to pick out your enemy. And in the city, well, once knives and swords were drawn, the questions stopped. But in the confines of the Infirmary, there were only questions. And Rav didn't have answers.

He didn't like not knowing.

Scratching at his beard, Rav opted to handle things as best as he could, which meant he was quickly going to defer to someone with an understanding of these matters. There was just one little thing to sort out first.

"I think you ought to hand me your weapons Avram, with the state you're in." He made it sound like a suggestion, but he also held up an open palm for the Drin to deposit the weapons into.