Sands of Memory (attn: Becks/Rhaile)

[Locke]

Terric

Disgruntled Terric carried a large stack of books back to the library. His collection of overdo books was getting excessive. There were simple forms to fill out to check a book out again, but sometimes life in the Warder Yards caused him to miss those deadlines. So here he was, carrying a stack of tomes on everything from Sea Folk legends to trade treaties in Arad Doman and considering how to return these books being caught and forfeiting several afternoons.

He put his stack of books down in a servant’s corridor near the library. He would need to scout before just walking into danger. He quickly strode into the library like he was on an important errand. A plan was forming in his head as he gave a quick bow and greeting to the brown haired Aes Sedai at the desk and kept moving. A quick circle of library lobby and he was able to find an empty library cart. He watched the Aes Sedai out of the corner of his eye, her nose was currently in a book. He would have to gamble on it staying that way if he was going to successfully get his books to the return chute without being seen.

As he pushed his cart back towards the entrance, planning to hide his books on the bottom rack, he did a visual sweep to make sure no more Brown Sisters were lurking. His scan passed over a tall, dirty blond woman in white. She was sitting at one of the study tables, hunched over a book. His eyes snapped back to her with a ghost of recognition. To his surprise a pair of hard green eyes fixed his grey. He did know this woman. He had been a much younger, dumber man back then, but unless he was mistaken that was Rhaile she was Nakai like him. Last time he’d seen her she was Far Dareis Mai with her hair as short as his.

Another pair of green eyes drifted up from memory unbidden. It was the night after a victorious raid, oosquai flowed liberally. In a foolhardy attempt to impress his spear brothers, a younger more foolhardy Terric agreed to play Maiden’s Kiss with a Maiden who’s favor wished to win as well as several of his spear sisters. He had found himself surrounded by Maidens, freshly honed spears pressed against his neck. Even to this day, he wasn’t sure if he regretted that night or enjoyed it. Unsure what to say or do, Terric broke eye contact and began pushing his cart towards the exit.

[Stasia]

Rhiale

The Library had become something of a sanctuary for Rhiale. Lorriane had once said that she was a Brown, which was an Ajah, which was some sort of a sept among the Aes Sedai. That was as far as the Wise One had understood it at that time, but now that she was here at Lorraine's Tower, among Lorraine's Clan, the concept had shifted into perspective. It was not a Sept at all, but a Society. And Lorriane's Society was devoted to learning, knowledge, and books; the Library had more books than Rhiale had ever seen in her entire life. Books were a rare treasure in the Three-fold Land, even rarer than water. And here they flowed as freely as the rain did from the sky.

She was not shamed by her barely proficient reading skills - in fact, it was the Accepted that rolled her eyes and scoffed that ought to have been shamed, but speaking or thinking of someone else's toh was shameful in itself. And so, Rhiale tolerated her less than charming benefactor. The Wise One's near-illiteracy did not render her obsolete: she was willing to learn, and that alone should have been enough to earn respect. And... It was not. Her pompous tutor started her with short novellas. They were trashy love stories filled with words that Rhiale didn't know how to pronounce, much less apply properly within the context, but it was a start. They were all confusing; Wetlanders had a strange concept of love and romance, and their culture was even more disorienting than the new words that popped up every few sentences.

Rhiale worked carefully, cross-referencing her crash-course in buxom Domani beauties, translucent silk, and face paint that somehow made eyes appear like pools with a gigantic, ancient dictionary. How eyes could be pools was beyond her. She'd never heard of black pools. And if the water was black, it was obviously stagnant - why would anyone want to wade into its depths? But one definition often lead to two or three more; every word ever written was defined with more words. And after she had reached the true meaning of something, it only served to confuse the story further. Rhiale huffed beneath her breath. All she wanted was to be able to understand the books - the real books - and she was stuck reading about a woman's neck that was as graceful, stretched like a swan. Her dictionary informed her that a swan was a white water-bird with a very long neck. Why didn't the author merely say that she had a very long neck? And hadn't the author stated that the buxom, dazzling Domani woman had coppery skin?

This is a waste of my time.

She slammed the contradictory romance shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. It would be more difficult to try and approach a true textbook, but at least it would not feel like digging holes for Chiari as an apprentice. Rhiale looked up momentarily and scanned the Library, wondering where to start. The shelves did not seem to be very organized and there was simply too much to know. Surely, there was a more academic explanation of Domani and their swan necks and eye-pools somewhere, and perhaps that version would make sense - her gaze and her contemplation stopped stopped in its tracks when she was met with a startling, familiar sight; an Aethan Dor was crouched behind a cart stacked high with books. He wore the uniforms of the Warder trainees, just as she wore the novice uniform, but there was no denying it: it was him.

"I see you, Terric," she said loudly, a smirk gracing her features; the irony did not escape her. It was both a greeting and an admonishment. He had always thought that he was better at hiding than he was. "It seems that we've both found more water and shade than we bargained for."

[Locke]

Terric

He turned to continue on his way when he heard the greeting, "I see you, Terric. It seems that we've both found more water and shade than we bargained for."

Terric stopped in his tracks, Of all the, bloody— “I see you too, Rhiale,” he responded keeping his voice pitched low. “I’d love to stay and catch up, but I have an errand,” he said, gesturing to his cart. Why did she have to choose now to talk to him? Light! Why was she even at the Tower? In a Novice dress? Any other time, he would have stopped to enjoy the spectacle, but he had a stack of overdo books stashed in a servants’ corridor. He began pushing his cart again, looking over his shoulder for the Brown librarian. She hadn’t looked up from her book but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t soon.

[Stasia]

Rhiale

Rhiale struggled to keep from laughing aloud; she settled for choking on her mirth and hid her smile behind her hand. She had not seen Terric in years but it did not seem like much had changed since they had both been where they truly belonged. He was crouched behind a book-cart, as if there was any hope at all that he could hide his massive frame behind it. For as bright as he was, he had always had too little foresight. Surely, the Browns were not that oblivious. Rhiale surreptitiously glanced at the Librarian on duty. For now, she was reading, but it would not be long before she noted that something was awry. Namely, that a mountain of a Warder trainee was attempting to walk off with an empty cart.

“I see you too, Rhiale,” Terric whispered fiercely, and he looked as if he wanted to chuck a book at her head. “I’d love to stay and catch up, but I have an errand." He tried to wheel his cart away without a further word, which only made Rhiale laugh harder: He's always been the type to run!. Rhiale let him wander a few steps, lulled him into a false sense of security, and pondered what to do with him. They had fought together, once. He was a bit of a fool, but a likable one - it did not seem like the Tower had warped him into one of the insufferable, puffed up types either. And though she loathed to admit it, it was good to see a piece of home.

It would be a pity waste such an opportunity. Rhiale stood quietly from her chair, near silent as she crept up behind his book-cart, and made no attempt to hide herself as she walked along side him.

"Where are you taking the Aes Sedai's cart, Terric? Surely, those are not meant to leave the Library." She tsked, and amusement clearly shone through her fraudulent admonishment. Privately, she wondered how long it had been since she had shown amusement; nothing had made her feel very pleased since she had arrived at Lorraine's Tower. She did not think of how much she missed the Three-fold Land or her near-sisters. She did not have any way of communicating with anyone that had remained where they belonged - unfortunately for Terric, he was all that there was. "They will make you scrub their dishes if you aren't careful." Rhiale couldn't keep a straight face after that - the Tower's idea of a penance was hardly a punishment. No, the only thing that made life here so difficult was that she could not channel. Saidar called to her constantly, but on her honor, she had not drawn on the Source without permission or supervision - even thinking of it was enough to make her chest ache with longing. If it was not for her toh, she could be home, she could be who she truly was, and she could channel without some snot-nosed Accepted watching her as if she had no idea what she was doing.

"How have you been adjusting to all of the weather, Terric?" Rhiale continued lightly, pushing her bitterness out of her mind - she'd pay that toh this evening - "I, personally, think that it's very soggy and cold. All of the time. I'm shocked that I haven't grown gills."

[Locke]

Terric

Terric glanced around for the Brown sister. He looked way quickly, she was looking up from her book. He turned to Rhiale, “I crossed Snow in Cairhien, it was one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had. If you want to talk, walk with me.” He set off at a purposeful clip, Rhiale following with an amused expression. Once they exited the Library and rounded the corner, Terric stopped. “You always did have the worst timing, Rhiale,” he said and began counting doors up the hall. There the third door, he set off towards it with his cart. Time was ticking, and sun baked Rhiale had done her best to waylay him. Truth be told, he was glad to see her. There were far worse people to randomly run into. This meeting could have happened at a better time.

He opened the door down to the servants’ corridor, surprising a young servant girl examining his stack of books in curiosity. She let out a squeak when she saw him dropping “Theories of the Wheel: Philosophical and Theological Implications of the Wheel of Time”. He shot her a sharp glance and said in a low but firm tone, “Not a word.” She scooted of frightened of the big Drin, and he preceded to load the books on to the bottom shelf of the cart. He took the copy of “Crime by the Numbers: A Statistical Analysis of Violent Crime in Illian, Tear, Caemlyn, and Cairhien” and placed it back on the floor. He would accept a penance to hold on to that book. He turned to see Rhiale watching him. That white dress would really take some getting used to. Then something hit him, something he hadn’t thought to address while she was delaying his escape from the library. “Rhiale, since when could you channel?”

[Stasia]

Rhiale

Rhiale stared at Terric disapprovingly as the liveried servant picked up her skirts and literally ran; she had done nothing to deserve his intimidation tactics. Her gaze was flat, and the mirth had left her eyes. By the time he turned back to face her, he was staring at what might as well have been a disdainful Aes Sedai. No, she reminded herself firmly, A disdainful Wise One. He stacked books quickly and quietly, and then asked something that she had not even thought of -

"Rhiale, since when could you channel?” Ah. That. Suddenly, her white slippers were the most interesting thing in the world. The last time they had met, she had been Far Dareis Mai, with spears and a blonde warrior's tail. She could not exactly tell him the full truth of the situation without betraying things that were secret to Wise Ones - anyone that could channel or could learn to channel became a Wise One against their will. But very few people knew that Wise Ones could touch the Source. Even among those in the Three-fold Land, it was a closely guarded secret. She could not exactly lie to him, though... She made a small, noncommittal noise.

"I cannot comment on that, Terric," she said finally. That alone was far more than she should have said, but there was no escaping the obvious. "But I do not have the Spark, like some of the women here do. I merely have the ability to learn." There, that would help a little - deflect it from what needed to be kept secret and speak about things that she could speak of. "My first-sister was an Aes Sedai," she said simply, "One that was found nearly dead in a sand dune. She was of the Brown Ajah, and wanted to study the Aiel. I could have killed her, but... I did not." Memories flooded back, almost clearer than the dim room that they occupied. The sun scorching the earth, Lorriane laughing aloud as she took lessons on ji'e'toh, and became a Wise One with her.

"I am here because I owe her a great deal," she said quietly, skirting around her toh. "How did you come to be here, so far from home?"

[Locke]

Terric

Terric listened to her explanation. Apparently her first-sister had been Aes Sedai. Obviously they had gone to the Wise Ones to make the ceremony official. There was more to the story than she was telling. He didn’t have to be Aethan Dor to see that she was deliberately not telling him the whole story. He decided not to press. It was probably Wise One’s business. He quirked an eyebrow at her comment about potentially killing an Aes Sedai. Everybody knew they had served the Aes Sedai and failed them. No one knew how they had served or how they had failed, but they had a toh that could not be met by one man. Terric assumed the Aiel had been Gaidin of sorts during the Age of Legends, fighting against hordes of trollocs and spitting in Sight Blinder’s eye. Rhiale concluded her story with a wistful look.

Then the inevitable question came, "How did you come to be here, so far from home?"

He mulled the answer over. What was the best way to explain his toh to a Wise One. He feared he would already have to crawl to Zail or Murine and beg to be allowed to wear white. He sighed, and began pushing his cart back to towards the library. “An Illianner merchant named Lorek Gand came to trade with our Sept. Nearly a year and a half ago now,” he added surprised so much time had passed. “He cheated and stole from several of our people but he had fled before the fraud was caught. I was sent to the Wetlands, along with several other Aethan Dor. We all had different paths to follow; mine lead me towards Baerlon where I ran afoul of the law. Apparently there are lands where you can’t hunt. Only Wetlander lords can hunt on them.” He let out a breath, pushing down lingering resentment. “I was thrown in a cell because I killed a few birds for my own survival. I didn’t touch their flocks, I didn’t break into their houses or stores? I killed two wild animals.” The story would have been a wonderful joke if the Wetlander guardsmen hadn’t proven to be so dishonorable. These men were supposed to protect and defend their people. He thought he should have had a kinship with them, but instead they stole from him. “I attempted to pay for the birds but the leader of Wetlander guards took the necklace for himself. He ordered his men to take me. This wasn’t a battle that needed fighting. I’m not Shae’en M’taal. On the bright side, I goaded a squad of guards into beating me while I was still manacled.” He stifled a laughed at the memory, “The silly Wetlanders were so afraid of me, they didn’t know what to do. And I was the one in chains.” He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “When they were carting me to Hama Valon, one guard tried to wake me up with the butt of his spear. I grabbed it and let go when he tried to yank it free. He fell in a puddle getting his fancy uniform dirty.”

They rounded the corner, reentering the library and Terric did his best to look casual, as casual as a pair of Aiel pushing a cart through a library could look. He hoped she would be more interested in his travels to the Tower than his reasons for staying. He stood by them and believed they were the right reasons, but he was not ready to defend that claim to a Wise One. His toh was his own concern.

[Stasia]

Rhiale

While there was no doubt that Terric was a full-grown man in his own right, there were parts of him that had never progressed past childhood. Unlike many of the warriors Rhiale knew and had fought alongside with, Terric had always been light-hearted; even when faced with the prospect of capture by Wetlander noblemen, he’d managed to make a joke out of it. The Wise One regarded his trainee greys with a discerning gaze: he had clearly joined the Tower, and was not here to ask someone to weave him a Gateway home. That was… Curious.

The Grey Tower was a melting-pot of culture and people, but of all the nations, it seemed to Rhiale that the Aiel were the smallest among their number. There were a few Aielman that had donned the blacks of the channelers, and that was not entirely shocking; any men that could channel in the Three Fold-Land was sent to Shayol Ghul, to face attempt to defeat the Dark One, and with the Taint cleansed, those who were not the Dragon Reborn had to find somewhere to go after their failure. But an Aiel in drin’far’ji grey? Rhiale met his gaze for a moment, wonder swirling in the back of her mind, but decided to leave that conversation for a later day. He had been unwilling to explain that, and though she had told him a little more about how she had donned their novice whites, she was not slighted by the uneven ground.

The Terric she remembered was a good man – an occasionally stupid one, but an honorable one. He would not withhold information to manipulate or harm anyone, unlike so many of the people that lived here. It was as if all the water in the lands really did make their brains soggy. She huffed softly, as though she was laughing at Terric’s story. It seemed that the only way to produce a decent human being was to raise them in a desert.

They returned to the Library with a cart that was now full of books – thankfully for the pair of them, the Brown that they had left was still busy reading and note-taking, despite the occasional squeaky wheel. She winced along with him each time the cart creaked, and0 padded quietly alongside him as they ventured through the shelves. Her eyes widened as he took more books, and she had to disguise her laughter as a cough.

“You have to return the books you’ve taken,” Rhiale murmured, making sure that her voice would not carry to anyone that had no business hearing her, “They have a cataloging system that notes who took what and when. If you just stick the books back on the shelf, they’ll never know you’ve brought them back, and the penance will only increase.” She had done plenty of marking and unmarking for the Browns. Novices that behaved got to choose some of their chores, and Rhiale liked working in the Library. It would have been a more enjoyable task if she had a higher reading comprehension, but she was slowly working her way through that – she could not help but feel envious of the gigantic tomes that Terric deftly peeled off the shelves, without even a hint of intimidation.

“Terric, when did you ever have time to learn to read this well? The Far Dareis Mai never had this much time for pleasure-reading.” She smirked, biting down on her lip to keep from laughing at the cloud of emotion that passed over his features. It had been far too long since she had gotten to goad him. It was good fortune that they had arrived at the same suffocating Tower: as much as Rhiale loathed to admit it, this toh was more difficult to fulfill than she had anticipated that it would be. She could take hardship. Boredom and isolation were different creatures, more temperamental, more difficult to bend to her will. Was it a lapse of her honor to enjoy Terric’s company? She was here to honor Lorraine and her life as an Aes Sedai. Well… Lorraine mentioned having friends. She said that that was what made the novice white bearable. Perhaps this is part of that experience. Still, the pleasant emotion nagged at her.

Fulfilling obligation was not meant to be enjoyable.

[Locke]

Terric

They had backed the cart between two aisles in the fiction section, away from any watching Aes Sedai. He began digging through his stack of books for a book that went on the near buy shelves. He had done his best to learn the filing system when he had first arrived, but he had never been in a place with enough books to need such a system. He checked the spine of the book he held, it was a mystery novel by Galdin Nurrel. According to the filing system, it would go in the next aisle. Rhiale stopped him and explained that the Aes Sedai catalogued each book and that if he snuck the books back onto the shelves they wouldn’t have any record the books were returned. Back to his original plan then. Dump the books down the return chute and hope nobody noticed.

He slipped the book back onto his cart and began making his way towards the desk. Voice pitched low, Rhiale asked him an unexpected question, “Terric, when did you ever have time to learn to read this well? The Far Dareis Mai never had this much time for pleasure-reading.”

He paused a moment, fighting with his instincts. Oh, to the Pit of Doom with it, he thought and opened his mouth. “You see, that’s the difference between Far Dareis Mai and Aethan Dor. Far Dareis Mai are too busy talking.” He wiggled his fingers in an imitation of Hand Talk, “Even when it’s silent.” In the past, comments like that had gotten him stabbed so he added something to soften the insult. “In all honesty, thank you for the advice about the books. Maybe, they weren’t totally insane to make you a Wise One.” He probably could have done without the last comment, but that had always been the nature of their relationship. Always quick with a barb but careful not to cross any lines, she had always been willing to offer aid or honest counsel. Life had forced them along different paths and he regretted not valuing their friendship as much back then. Maybe the Pattern did have an objective. If not, Terric would accept this gift of an unexpected friend

[Stasia]

Rhiale

Rhiale bit her tongue and narrowly avoided rolling her eyes at Terric; surely, for all his reading, he was capable of simple mathematics. He knew that she wore the whites of a novice and that she had left the Maidens suddenly - she could not explain to him outright that she had been made a Wise One because she could channel, but it should have been obvious to him. She huffed, helping him drop his heavy tomes down the chute, and she hoped that he took it as indignation instead of disbelief. He was never very good at social cues, she mused, Not even when they shone brighter than the sun.

It was for the best that he did not make the connection between her dress and her occupation. It was a closely guarded secret and if he was too dense to make the leap for himself, she was more than content to let him live in blissful ignorance. After the eight and final book was replaced, which was so large that it might as well have been a dictionary, Rhiale smirked in his direction.

"I suppose you could say that it was wise of them." If she could not be honest, she could be insufferable. "My hand-talk has nothing to do with my near-illiteracy," she said tartly, "And you avoided my question. When did you find the time to learn to read like this? Surely, the Warders do not give you very much time either, unless they're as soft as everyone else is."