For all of Avrya's earlier irreverence, the girls worked quickly and silently now; the drin'far'ji's soiled clothing only made matters worse, but it allowed Illyria more time to attempt to compose a letter to her successor. She had a great deal of respect for Mirin; she had taken up the job and made a much better disciplinarian than she ever had. Illyria wanted to be a mother more than a force of nature, and she had never been as intimidating, controlled, or as genuinely well-suited for the position as Mirin was. It was for the better that Illyria had been out of office before Avrya arrived, and she knew it - she was no match for a child that did not seem to have any interest in learning, succeeding, or improving.
If Illyria were still the Mistress of Novices, she would have trained Avrya in the One Power at breakneck speed and sent the girl on her way with her year's worth of silver and never doubted her judgement. It was clear that one trouble-maker was a bad influence for anyone else that she came into contact with: the drin'far'ji would have likely never done this if she had not run into Avrya. But... Mirin retained her. There was no denying that the girl had potential and that it would be a substantial loss to the Tower let her loose in the world, or to direct her to the Kin, and Mirin had a spine of iron. Clearly, she had hope.
If only the child found motivation...
Illyria's letter for Ravak was already finished and folded. She very nearly smiled at the thought of the slight girl having to deliver that - the trip to his office in itself was plenty punishment. Avrya's letter only had a succinct introduction, and had stopped mid-sentence in a moment of rage. "It is my suggestion that -" What could Illyria suggest that Mirin had not already thought of? It seemed impetuous now, suggesting anything to the Mistress of Novices. Perhaps it was best left in her hands. A switching? Sat in isolation for months on end? Extra chores? The Aes Sedai surreptitiously glanced at the girls; Avrya looked quite at home, scrubbing the floors. Extra chores would likely only increase her disdain and her staggering ingratitude.
Perhaps... Perhaps that is the issue.
She wrote quickly now, driven by inspiration. Her quill scratched furiously against the parchment, and despite slightly messier handwriting, she was satisfied with her letter once she had finished it. After the ink had dried, she folded it carefully. Illyria sat in silence while the girls finished their work. The drin'far'ji had to take another trip to find another bucket of hot water, but in about a half-hour, the classroom had been set right. Illyria handled the shattered inkpots herself - there was no sense in letting either of the girls cut themselves on broken glass, especially not when she didn't have the Talent to Heal them.
"Come here," she said quietly, her rage from earlier now nearly dissipated. The girls approached quickly, and she handed both of them their letters. "Avrya, yours goes to the Mistress of Novices; Muireen, yours goes to the Master of Training. You will deliver them yourselves. I trust that they will dispense appropriate punishments." Illyria regarded them with a blank, tired expression. "Replace your supplies and deliver these immediately." The pair left in silence. The drin'far'ji's shoulders were slumped and her eyes were downcast; Illyria did not envy her task, but she had earned it. Avrya... What would happen with the novice was yet to be seen. Illyria turned to wipe away her illustrations on the chalkboard, and sighed as she was met with the sight of the a'dam. She scrubbed it away as quickly as she could and tried not to think about the fact that she would have to repeat the same lecture on the morrow. If she had any choice in the matter, she would never think of Seanchan again.
If Illyria were still the Mistress of Novices, she would have trained Avrya in the One Power at breakneck speed and sent the girl on her way with her year's worth of silver and never doubted her judgement. It was clear that one trouble-maker was a bad influence for anyone else that she came into contact with: the drin'far'ji would have likely never done this if she had not run into Avrya. But... Mirin retained her. There was no denying that the girl had potential and that it would be a substantial loss to the Tower let her loose in the world, or to direct her to the Kin, and Mirin had a spine of iron. Clearly, she had hope.
If only the child found motivation...
Illyria's letter for Ravak was already finished and folded. She very nearly smiled at the thought of the slight girl having to deliver that - the trip to his office in itself was plenty punishment. Avrya's letter only had a succinct introduction, and had stopped mid-sentence in a moment of rage. "It is my suggestion that -" What could Illyria suggest that Mirin had not already thought of? It seemed impetuous now, suggesting anything to the Mistress of Novices. Perhaps it was best left in her hands. A switching? Sat in isolation for months on end? Extra chores? The Aes Sedai surreptitiously glanced at the girls; Avrya looked quite at home, scrubbing the floors. Extra chores would likely only increase her disdain and her staggering ingratitude.
Perhaps... Perhaps that is the issue.
She wrote quickly now, driven by inspiration. Her quill scratched furiously against the parchment, and despite slightly messier handwriting, she was satisfied with her letter once she had finished it. After the ink had dried, she folded it carefully. Illyria sat in silence while the girls finished their work. The drin'far'ji had to take another trip to find another bucket of hot water, but in about a half-hour, the classroom had been set right. Illyria handled the shattered inkpots herself - there was no sense in letting either of the girls cut themselves on broken glass, especially not when she didn't have the Talent to Heal them.
"Come here," she said quietly, her rage from earlier now nearly dissipated. The girls approached quickly, and she handed both of them their letters. "Avrya, yours goes to the Mistress of Novices; Muireen, yours goes to the Master of Training. You will deliver them yourselves. I trust that they will dispense appropriate punishments." Illyria regarded them with a blank, tired expression. "Replace your supplies and deliver these immediately." The pair left in silence. The drin'far'ji's shoulders were slumped and her eyes were downcast; Illyria did not envy her task, but she had earned it. Avrya... What would happen with the novice was yet to be seen. Illyria turned to wipe away her illustrations on the chalkboard, and sighed as she was met with the sight of the a'dam. She scrubbed it away as quickly as she could and tried not to think about the fact that she would have to repeat the same lecture on the morrow. If she had any choice in the matter, she would never think of Seanchan again.
| The letters Muireen and Avrya are carrying: Ravak Gaidin, This afternoon, your trainee Muireen, in the company of Avyra Moeryr, dropped a box of insects in my classroom in the middle of a lecture. As you can imagine, the results were disruptive. Not only was my entire afternoon wasted, all twenty of my students had their afternoons wasted as well. I made her clean up after herself, as it seemed unfair to ask the Tower servants to do so. I hope that this was not overstepping my bounds, and I trust that you will supply her with an appropriate penance. In the Light, Illyria Malkom Sedai Mirin Sedai, I met Avrya Moeryr this afternoon; I wish that I could say that it was under pleasant circumstances. She conscripted a drin'fa'ji and dropped a box full of insects in my classroom in the middle of my lecture on damane. I have been pranked, and even pranked once or twice in my days in white, but I have never been met with a child as contemptuous, ungrateful, or oblivious as Avrya. It is my suggestion that she serves a penance of community service, and that she is met with a strong dose of reality. Perhaps that will help to open her eyes. However, I leave this matter in your capable hands, and defer to your judgement. In the Light, Illyria Malkom Sedai |
