The Grey Tower

Malcym Ashe and Jerid Asha'man Few eyes saw the pair — a calm, youthful-looking Asha’man and a slightly disheveled drin — as they moved through seldom-used corridors and paths in the Yards. They moved without suspicion in the world.

The Asha’man, a legend in the Tower long since faded in the memory of most, knew most of the Tower grounds better than most living. It was these routes he took more out of precaution than anything else, given the incident that had occurred just a few hours past.

Word was still limited, though it was sure to spread because tongues wagged and gums flapped.

Malcym Ashe’s only concern at the moment was why they were going to the Warder Yards, instead of the Master of Soldiers’ office. Given recent events and the discovery of his ability to channel — and most surprisingly by Mal himself — it made little sense they were still in the Yarder Wards, especially after the Asha’man had made a semi-big deal of taking him to the Master of Soldiers in front of eight prisoners and a dozen Tower Guard.

But Mal’s mind still reeled over the entire event ...

... and all he could see was through a blur, a mean drin advancing on the Novice he had been having a picnic with, so close within reach ... and then the earth singing to him, a storm of ice and fire ... and the earth shaking beneath his knees.

Mal also remembered throwing his sword at the first man advancing, ready to throw a knife in their direction ... her direction ... and the sheer fury as he drove a club down on the man who had so closely harmed the Novice ...

... in those moments, he’d forgotten he was a drin and was instead a soldier. Worse, the monster he had become after ...

“Malcym, are you listening?” the Asha’man’s voice cut through his thoughts and he numbly shook his head.

The Asha’man shot him a sidelong glance, probably the Indigo’s version of a sigh.

“Apologies, Asha’man, I was just thinking ...”

“I don’t care what you’re thinking, drin’far’ji,” the Asha’man said simply. “Set it aside and act as you’ve been trained, a Warder-in-Training of these Yards. One who defended a Novice. Burn that thought into your mind and use it like armor, because you will need it.”

Mal blinked. “But the Master of Training ... “

“... is not who we are going to see.”

Before Mal could ask for classification, he found himself staring at a very familiar door. One he had been taught to remember when he became a Ji’val and eventually Gaidin.

The Gaidin Captain’s offices lay beyond. And the Gaidin Captain was the effective commander of all unbonded Warders.

The Asha’man opened the door and beckoned Mal to follow ... and he soon found himself in an antechamber, with the Indigo speaking to another trainee, apparently an aide or assistant to the Gaidin Captain.

... and the trainee was off in a heartbeat.

“Now we wait ...” was all the Asha’man said.

---

The trainee rather burst into the room, bowed quickly and then blurted out the information ...

“A Jerid Walker Asha’man is here, Gaidin. He’s here with a drin, Malcym Ashe ... the Asha’man informed me that he wanted to speak of an incident that occurred a few hours ago in the Gardens,” the trainee said. After a brief moment’s pause ... “Apparently eight drin are arrested, two of which are severely injured. Another two are dead, killed by the drin while defending a Novice. And that said drin channeled to such effect in his words ‘flatten their flaming arses ...’”

The trainee hesitated before adding, “He also alluded he’d owe you a favor if you did see him.”

It had been a small few months since Natlya had taken on the...dubious honor of being the Gaidin Captain. She still wasn't sure what she thought of it, but like everything else, she did it to the best of her ability. The time spent in an office was both blessing and curse, depending on the moment you asked and the task she had before her.

Now, though, was a bit of excitement as a cloud of rushed words came through the door and all but slapped her.

Nat felt she got the important points, however. "I see," she said slowly, churning it all over in her mind. "See them in." She watched him scurry off, wondering what was going to come through the door next.

In the brief few minutes that Malcym and the Asha’man were alone, the latter looked calmly at the young soldier.
Malcym could feel the weight of that man’s gaze threaten to pull down his shoulders. Those gold-green eyes were like needles, piercing the soul as they sought the drin’s weakness. The only problem was the Asha’man likely already knew it.

“You’ll show respect to this one, Drin,” the Asha’man said, his gaze returning to the door. “One snippet of your usual ‘charm’ and this one probably isn’t afraid to be creative.”

Mal opened his mouth before clamping it shut. He realized both his own ... aptitude for acting out against authority and ... well, he couldn’t really predict what this new Gaidin Captain would do.

The drin was about to say something when the trainee returned to the antechamber, notifying the pair that the Gaidin Captain would see them.
--
Entrance into the Gaidin Captain's office was different for both men. For Mal, it was new, for he'd never seen them. For the Asha'man, it was an echo of the past, from days both pleasant and bittersweet.

Two pairs of eyes fell on the red-haired Gaidin Captain in front of them. Mal immediately bowed while the Asha'man looked around.

Jerid's gold-green eyes returned to the Gaidin and smiled faintly, nodding in respect. The plump teenager he and Lysira had brought to the Tower so long ago along with another had grown up gracefully, so far removed from the young thief that had entered the Yards.
"Gaidin Captain," Mal heard the Asha'man say. "My condolences, Gaidin, though from what I understand, one well deserved."

As Mal straightened, he saw the Asha'man's gesture toward him. "Young Master Ashe, this is Gaidin Natlya Cade, Gaidin Captain of the Warder Yards," the Asha'man said. "Gaidin Captain, Drin Malcym Ashe, soon to be Soldier Malcym Ashe."
Mal was about to speak but the Asha'man was quicker.

"I fear our young Master Ashe is in a bit of a pickle, Gaidin, as it seems two other drin are dead after he killed them while defending a young Novice whilst on a picnic. Eight more are in custody, two of which are being treated while in irons because this drin gave them a beating. Arrested of course with justification as it's odd that a pack of trainees would attack others without sinister motive. I only thought it appropriate to inform you prior to bringing the lad to the Master of Soldiers, since apparently, he channeled in defense of the Novice."

Mal bit his lip as the Asha'man continues. "The Novice is safe, of course, but the drin believes that a Ji is behind it ... "

"I don't believe it. She is," Mal said, interrupting the Asha'man. His silver-blue eyes went to Gaidin Captain. "Short of it is, this Novice and I pranked a Ji for an incident she caused in a stable, she retaliated with another prank and whilst on this picnic to discuss our future options, men attacked. Men who trailed on the Ji's hope for influence ..."

"Malcym," the Asha'man warned, albeit with little force behind it. Mal did not catch the subtle look the Asha'man cast at the Gaidin Captain, as if to say she was free to deal with attitude as was necessary.

Mal continued. "When one of your attackers mentions 'the Great Lord of the Dark', you know that their mistress is a Darkfriend. So I say slip a knife in her ribs and be done with it."

Seeing the Asha'man's face certainly pulled forth a great deal of memories, but the ones of her resentment of him--long and intense as it had once been--were gone. Now, there were echoes of gratitude that he had brought her to this life. When all was said and done, through all the pain and trials, she was glad she was here.

Morgan's memories were bittersweet now, but more of their joys together than the sorrows of her loss.

The reflection, however, did not last long. Soon there was quite a story, along with noteworthy interjections and no small amount of self-confidence from the youngest of the group, but still, having been that mouthy young one at one point, she was inclined to at least give him the benefit of the doubt (for the moment) and hear him out.

"You actually heard the name stated?" Nat asked simply, straight to the point.