It's gonna get a little Wilder (attn: Jack/Cassie)

[Locke]

Alric Aurella

Alone in his secret garden alcove, floating in the Void, Saidin rushed into him, around him, through him. Alric felt energized, like he was standing on a roof top during a storm. The one thing that made him feel more alive was a life or death struggle. He knelt, bared steel laying across his lap, leather wrapped hilt gripped in his right hand. Through Saidin enhanced senses, he could feel the leather pressing into his palms, leaving marks, as he gripped the weapon with the same intensity with which he clung to the Power. As long as he was still Blocked, this sword represented his only fragile connection to the True Source.

Taking a deep breath, and feeling the fire with in grow and shrink in tandem, he began to weave. Threads of Air and Fire came together to make a simple ball of fire. It hung before him a steadily glowing golden white sphere. This was rather easy for him, Air and Fire came rather naturally to him. Neither Rodric nor Katrie thought they were his two strongest, however. Focusing, he wove again. A second ball sprung into existence. A deep blue this time. In a burst of confidence, he brought a third ball, green, into existence next to the first two. They were losing their steady glows and beginning to dance and flicker. He adjusted his focus and they began to stabilize. So, he added a fourth ball to the mix. The fuchsia flame could old only be considered a ball by the most charitable definitions. It danced and flickered and occasionally almost faded from existence. He found himself straining to keep the first three intact. He held them for a count of sixty and released them.

Standing, he walked over to the large oak tree where he’d left his belongings. On top of his neatly folded coat was a notebook. He picked it up and took note of his progress. With a smile, he added new points to his graphs. It was okay that he hadn’t been able to hold the fourth ball very long. When he’d started this, he’d barely been able to hold two for any period of time. Looking at one of his graphs, he thought back to an earlier test. Using a focusing trick, he’d managed to devise from Paks teaching him to juggle, he could hold up to eight balls, but not very stable, or for very long. In the long run, this method was better. It was strenuous, but there were consistent results. Not unlike lifting weights. A little consistency and a little effort, and that weight that you struggled under feels light as a feather. Alric settled down again with his sword across his lap again to channel. This time he’d push for five.

[Jack]

Cassie Majere, the sneaky Novice Cassie Majere frowned as she attempted to seek saidar. Her amethyst eyes were shut as she pictured the calm ocean and clear sky she had pictured in her attempt to remain calm.

In the wake of what had happened all too recently in her mind, the Novice found herself more and more intent on keeping in control of her own emotions, even if things around her seemed to erupt in chaos. The faint scar on her waist, which had already begun to heal from the destruction of the Novice Hall before a Healer could get to her, was a sharp reminder she could remain in control.

After all, when one is impaled by a piece of thick wood and then orders the man who rescued her to cauterize her wound. In that brief time she had been able to channel without succumbing to strong emotions. She thought her block had been broken, that the initial lessons she had with Mirin Sedai months before the attack had helped pave the path toward that goal. But then other things had occurred and she suddenly found herself back at square one.

She saw the fierce, beautiful Gaidin look at her across the bed, strands of red hair strewn across her face as beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. Cassie smiled as she lounged in the other woman’s arms, perhaps for the first time in months fully at ease. The Gaidin’s full lips curved into a bittersweet smile ... and then she spoke ...

The memory shattered Cassandrya’s calm and she very nearly swore. Her eyes opened and she found herself in the quiet corner of the Garden she stole away to during her rare free hours. She was due to return to her studies in an hour, and she knew that whomever would have the pleasure to break her today would likely pass her off to another instructor tomorrow.

She refused to seek out the current Mistress of Novices, and Illyria Sedai was busy. Her uncle and his Aes Sedai were off in another one of their journeys, so she couldn’t implore the former Amyrlin Seat to help her without telling her the reason for the continued block.

... “I’m leaving the Tower and returning to Camden Corelle ... for good ...”

Afterwards, she had wept and her roommate Ellessya had been there to offer a shoulder to cry upon. And then the emotions welled up and so suddenly she channeled. The halls had shook as the weaves of Air began to shake the flaming building. Nyoma Sedai, the Yellow tasked with her wellbeing following an incident so many months ago, and Healed her in the aftermath of the destruction, had her shielded for three days.

And those emotions threatened to well up again, and she sensed the seductive glow of saidne on the edge of reality. She wanted to drink it in, to just drown herself in it. And she nearly did when she clamped down and asserted control. A calm ocean, a calm sky.

The glow vanished and she swore in frustration before picking herself up. She reached for a bow and quiver near her, intending on going to the Warder Yards for at least some practice. She was dressed for the occasion after all. She’d received a blessing from Nyoma Sedai to at least spend an hour or two every few days because it helped her relax. Better one who improved her archery than one who might potentially suffer from post traumatic symptoms?

She wore simple hunters clothes that hugged her slender yet curvy frame in just the right way. While she might have been a Novice, she didn’t exactly waste her time hunched over books all day. What chores she did, she made sure were active. The Tar Valon noblewoman had been active in her father’s home, always hunting or practicing with her father’s now-deceased hunts master and head of household.

She took the extended, scenic route to the Warder Yards, on a path that she did not take all that often. Sometimes Cassie liked to be surprised, and if she could run into a beautiful, easy mark that she could spend the night with, so much the better, just to help the Novice forget about her.

No such luck this day, though some movement caught her eye. Carefully, the Novice sneaked into a nearby clearing, only to see a Soldier settle down with a naked sword across his lap.

Cassie recognized the dark-skinned face immediately and couldn’t help but blush slightly at the circumstances behind which she knew it. Certainly because she had seen a fair bit more, but also because he had slapped the poor man the day of the horrible incident simply out of concern he might do something stupid if he slipped into the past.

And oh Light, the tirade she went off when so many people questioned her actions, and the words she used toward the Soldier. A fine specimen. Even if he had been injured.

Her lips curved in a slight, mischievous smile when she remembered she was wearing cloth shoes this particular day. Always used to sneaking up on prey during the hunt near Tar Valon, she did exactly the same thing this day. When she was within several inches, she leaned down, her amethyst eyes bright, and she murmured, “Your face looks funny when you do that. Is it because you have to wear clothes?”

[Locke]

Alric, the Soldier Who Doesn't have an Interesting Caption Today

Instead of weaving as soon as he took hold of the Power, he knelt reveling in the sensation. Opportunities to channel were so infrequent that he often found himself riding the high from Saidin as opposed to actually weaving. Senses magnified by the Power, he could distinguish the subtle shifts in the light as the wind blew through the trees. Alric smelled traces of a woman’s soap. There was another change in the lighting and he felt a prickle on his neck.

Alric’s back stiffened a voice murmured in his hear, “Your face looks funny when you do that. Is it because you have to wear clothes?” He was up on one knee, pivoting to face the voice when he found himself nose to nose with red haired, Cassie Majere. The pummel of his sword stopped an inch from her chest and Alrc let himself relax. Face morphing from a stone mask to something more welcoming, he settled back into a sitting position. He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed with himself for letting her sneak up on him, or impressed that she’d managed the feat.

“Oh hello, Cassie. You’re not hear to slap me again?” he wryly teased. “Either way, the presence or absence of clothes is irrelevant." He began to weave again, this time starting with a small amethyst ball of fire. He paused and looked up at Cassie. “Are you going to sit down or do you enjoy forcing men to crane their necks at you?”

[Jack]

Cassie Majere, Always Feisty, Sometimes Sassy Cassie never flinched as she saw the Soldier spring into action. She had to admit that he was fast ... but she’d seen men move in such a way that could tear the poor Mayener to shreds.

But she admired more his restraint when the pommel stopped short of her chest. Her lips only curved in a deeper grin as she murmured, “Men, all speed, and never any ambition to finish a woman off.”

Cassie knew all too well how to play with the heartstrings, and it was precisely why she didn’t do it. She also knew how to tease men and women alike with double entendres.

She looked down at the Soldier as he mentioned her slapping him again. Of course that had been a very different circumstance, and the Mayener looked like he was about to lose control. Cassie knew a thing or two about losing control, much to grumblings and startled reaction of the Novice Hall when she began channeling flows of Air that shook the building at its core. Mirin Sedai, her grandfather and Nyoma Sedai had stopped her actions, but not before she wanted to end it herself.

And even when the former Mistress of Novices sought to break her block -- with no promise that it work -- Cassie withdrew further into her own control. Hence, slapping poor Alric.

“The lack of clothes is never irrelevant, my dear Alric,” she said with a sense of amusement. “And why shouldn’t men be forced to look up at women? Men in Cairhien, Illian, Tear and Amadicia have all been forcing women to do the same exact same thing for thousands of years.”

Her amethyst eyes did glitter in appreciation, however, when she saw the color of the flame. Truth be told, she liked this Soldier, perhaps more than most men she met. Her brothers, her father and her uncle were probably the exception. With the exception of Coren her twin, the other three, her brother Jalen, her father and her uncle Sojin were still filled with the ego of men, but put that aside. All were soldiers, one was a Warder, a second a Tar Valon Tower Guard captain and the third a Warder-in-training for the White Tower.

So she took pity on him and sat down next to him, her bow and quiver at her side and her amethyst eyes studying Mayener. “So are you intending to set the place on fire with purple flames or are you just carrying a flame for me,” she teased. “Because I will tell you right now, Soldier Alric, I’m not that kind of lady ... well, except with other ladies. Or men who throw food in the name of defending women's honor.”

Her smile never failed to be half-wicked. Everyone who wasn’t buried under a rock knew Cassandrya Majere’s reputation for not shying away from flirting with other women. Or actively pursuing them for that matter. But she did lie just a bit. It was rare that a man caught her attention, but it did happen.

“Besides ... aren’t you supposed to be doing this channeling business with someone like a Dedicated or Asha’man, or does Jhanic Asha’man make exceptions for the great and should-be-but-isn’t-naked Alric?”

[Locke]

Alric, who tries not to carry flames.[subtitle]There's a chance that they'll light his alcohol on fire[/subtitle]

“Spend a few years living in an army camp and you’ll begin to become desensitized to nudity. It’s all quite pedestrian actually. There’s a reason Domani dresses cover a lot, but somehow reveal even more.” Still unsure what sort of emotion the woman wanted from him, he kept to wry amusement. Maybe, if the Void didn’t provide such an emotional buffer, he’d have a better understanding.

“As for the nations you mentioned, I’ve been to Tear and Cairhien. Fought for the latter in a war against the former. They are both abjectly terrible. Amedicia, from what I’ve heard is filled with unnecessarily moralistic types. I can’t vouch for the Illianers, but they make good beer and know what proper seafood is. Conversely, woman tend to have places of power in Mayene, the Borderlands, Altara, Andor, Arad Doman, and in your native Tar Valon. We could all be in Far Madding. Nobody is happy there, trust me I went there on leave once.”

“Now, if you mean ‘craning their necks’ in a more literal sense, and I’m the one looking too hard at cultural norms, then that seems to be the way the wheel weaves us. In the grand scheme of things, I’m not particularly tall.”

Alric began weaving again and a second sphere snapped into existence, this one glowing a steady green. “I thought I’d seen you somewhere else,” Alric said in dawning recognition. “You’re that girl from the food fight incident. The one they call the ‘Tar Valon degenerate’. There are worse thing to be known as such as ‘the Tar Valon girl who’s a poor tipper’ or ‘the Tar Valon girl who requests songs from the gleeman but can’t even hum a few bars.” Neither rolls off the tongue as well, but you get my point, it’s not a sin in my book, nor is it anybody’s business.”

A third orb sprung to life, this one blue. It seemed to shimmer and flicker a bit. He was already dividing his attention too much to talk to Cassie. The main purpose of this exercise was to learn to channel with his attention split, so he continued talking, “Asha’man Jhanic doesn’t make exceptions for me, that’s why I’m tucked away in my apparently not so secret study spot.” The flood gates had probably opened when he’d begun to bring Afanen back to this clearing for their lessons. Truthfully, Alric was the type to become rather obsessive when there was something he needed to learn. It had happened in the past especially after that “victorious” fight with the blademaster. The man as dead, but it still hadn’t solely been Alric’s victory and had done his best to squeeze in some training every day for the past half-decade. On the same vein, since he and Rodric had gotten to the root of his block, he’d been requesting weapons from the armory and stealing moments alone to train with the Power.

With a deep breath, he reasserted his will over the first three orbs and channeled a fourth into being. The yellow orb floated next to its siblings glowing evenly under Alric’s firm gaze. “If you aren’t opposed to a little rule breaking, you’re welcome to practice too. From what I’ve seen of you, admittedly not as much as you’ve seen of me, I don’t think you’re opposed to rule breaking.”

[Jack]

Cassie couldn’t help but smile at Alric’s words and the list of nations he’d visited. For a Mayener soldier, he was well traveled. And of course, she was a little envious of the fact that one could become desensitized to nudity.

There were times when she wondered whether Coren and she had been adopted from Aiel by their father, because she was much more passionate than and less flippant about social norms and Coren was ... well, at least flaming brilliant when it came to turning everything upside down when he pointed out the flaws in most logical arguments.

But alas, his brother’s silver hair matched their father’s, and Cassie often took on her mother’s strict sense of Cairhienin propriety, and she secretly was beginning to thank the Cairhienin noblewoman’s lessons imparted on her daughter.

Now, looking at Alric, she had to admire the man’s knowledge of the different cultures. But at the same time, she didn’t want to stroke his ego.

“Are you insulting Cairhien, my dear Alric,” she asked in a mockingly serious tone. “Because my mother is the daughter of the High Seat of House Tamodred, defender of the Light and servant of the True Dragon Reborn.” She’d only met her grandfather’s family a few times, and from all she’d seen of the Topless Towers, and then of her own mother’s family, she was glad the latter lived near the edge of the nation, because they were less ... scheming.

She patted the soldier’s knee, as if to say she took no offense. “Absolutely horrible in terms of how they rule, how they act and scheme, and how the Whitecloaks subjecigate everyone.” She said the latter with some pang of unavoidable regret. Most did not know the fact she had killed one to save Coren’s life, or the results of its aftermath.

What surprised her, however, was that Alric actually recalled who she was based on the very brief encounter in the lower ranks’ mess. And she was particularly ... grateful he didn’t push the boundaries of inquiring more about the name so many Novices here used to try and insult her. She preferred certain types of company, and in Tar Valon, it was much more acceptable.

And perhaps for the first time in a few weeks, she genuinely laughed at the alternatives to what people could call her. It naturally surprised her, and she almost blushed, ironically over a thing so very trivial compared to actions she was known for among the learning ranks.

It almost made her forget the events of the last few months ... or the last few weeks. The Gaidin with the sun-gold hair, dressed up in ringlets, looked back from atop her horse ... her emerald eyes almost sorrowful ... and found empty spot. Cassie stood atop the battlements, hidden behind the small caravan bound for Camden Corelle, the latest to depart, perhaps the last. She couldn’t bear such proximity.

Her amethyst eyes snapped back into the present as she watched Alric channel yet another ball of fire into being. It was as if he was trying to create the whole range of Ajahs, and for some reason she envied him. At least, to her knowledge, he could channel without being subject to relinquishing control over her emotions.

“I would love to, Soldier Alric,” she murmured, “but I fear any progress I make is best made under heavy Wards and only when, as someone once put it, something’s beneath my skirts. I cannot channel unless I surrender to my emotions. And the former Mistress of Novices said I would need to control such behavior lest I face the option of forkroot to keep me under control.”

Mirin Sedai was no longer Mistress of Novices, and for as much contempt she had now for the woman she had admired so much, she still missed the woman. She’d gone the length to help her when it was simple to hand her off as someone else’s problem. Elia Sedai was ... somewhat different and Cassie found herself not wanting to trust any Mistress of Novice after the truth of Mirin came out.

She looked at Alric and then the naked sword across his lap. Curious, she thought, as she looked at the weapon. She remembered rumors about a Mayener who came to the Tower with reputation as a blademaster. Curious, and as fast as she was, gripped the sword hilt and pulled it away from the Soldier. “Where’s the heron,” she asked, studying the rather unimpressive blade. “My uncle surrendered two to the Mistress of Arms, one of them one he claimed from a Whitecloak.”

[Locke]

Alric "Don't Touch My Sword" Aurella

He hadn’t realized, but he’d relaxed his grip on the weapon. In a brash gesture, Cassie reached out and attempted to pull the weapon away from him. Saidin fled and the orbs of fire winked out as his grip faltered. He tightened his grip, never fully relinquishing control over the weapon, but she had was already turning the weapon and examining it. Running on instincts, Alric was preparing to fend off a follow up attack and almost missed her quip. She was curious about herons? It wasn’t an attack then, she was just impulsive. And maybe an idiot. He gave here one of his auguring glares that had made recruits and veterans squirm. As he wrenched the weapon free, he said, “Never, grab for somebody’s weapon,” in a voice that brooked no argument. He was almost as mad at her for grabbing at his weapon as he was at himself for letting her. He held her gaze for a moment, brown eyes on amethyst before releasing her.

Alric scooted himself over slightly, he felt as if an unspoken trust had been violated. This little clearing had become his sanctum. He’d let her into his personal space while he carried a sword, and she grabbed for it. It didn’t matter if she just was curious, there were some things you just didn’t do. He would have been well within his rights to wrestle her down or strike her. His stomach sank as he truly realized what she’d asked. She’d asked about his heron mark. If that quartermaster was spreading rumors, he’d have a word with the man. That wasn’t his secret to tell. His grip tightened on the leather wrapped hilt. “Why are you looking for herons?” He was forcing a more casual tone, but his words still had a bite to them. “This is just one of the Tower’s blades anyway.” The two blades he’d brought with him to the Tower were secure in a storeroom. He wanted to storm off or send her on her way. It was all rather disappointing, though; he had been beginning to enjoy their conversation. “You could have just asked to see the weapon.”

[Jack]

Cassie "Hands On" Majere Cassie should have known better. She’d grown up around soldiers most of her life. Her brother was a promising swordsman, no thanks to the Warder Yards of Tar Valon. Her father was even better, though neither came close to the skill her uncle Sojin demonstrated.

But then, neither of them ever reacted when she inspected their weapons, mostly to check out to craftsmanship. Cassie knew she would never be able to handle a sword. The bow was her preferred weapon of choice, and the knife a preferred close-quarters took up until last year.

So when Alric reacted with the stern measures, she tilted her head in confusion, and then saw the flash of irritation to ... it wasn’t bitterness, but something close to it.

Her amethyst eyes sparked, and for one brief second, gold flecks danced in them. She tilted her head briefly, and muttered in a very sarcastic, teasing manner, “Men ... always either complaining that women aren’t grabbing for their weapon, or complaining it’s improper.”

When the Soldier scooted away slightly, the red-haired Novice closed the distance, not intent on giving up so easily.

“Aye, I could have asked, and you might have said no,” she said matter-of-factly. “Better to ask forgiveness than permission on certain things.”

She tapped his nose playfully with a finger and added, “Besides, that expression of being all serious is too flaming cute.” Her amethyst eyes danced like purple fire. “And as for the heron mark, a few of the lower ranks were babbling about one of the Soldiers being a blademaster. You know how to handle that sword well enough, but not near where I’ve seen to earn a heron mark. As I said, my uncle gave up two heron marked swords to Riahana Gaidin ... and the last one he earned, I think, but thinks himself unworthy ... false humility doesn’t suit him well.”

She smiled. “But you’re trying to downplay those rumors because you’re genuine, or so it seems.” She tapped his nose again playfully and murmured, “Most find that type of honesty, however covert, appealing and sincere.”

And then her mind suddenly flashed over one detail she had overlooked upon grasping Alric’s sword. She blushed unexpectedly as she said, “You cannot channel without a weapon, can you? Light, I am such a bloody fool.” It might be one thing to remove a soldier’s weapon, but when one was channeling and it acted a conduit to overcome a block ... that was dangerous, or so she assumed. “I am sorry, Alric, I didn’t realize.”

[Locke]

Alric "Needs a Drink" Aurella

Alirc was sure he’d shown his old cat more respect than this woman showed him. He considered biting her finger if she poked him again, but decided against it. She was treating him like a house cat already. Then something hit him. Something that both explained her actions but made him want to groan harder. She was a noblewoman, she said she was the daughter of Cairhienen house. Part of him wondered if they were loyal to Damodred or Riatin. No, that life was long gone.

In a surprising bout of self-awareness, Cassie blushed. She’d finally caught on. Yes it was already a breach of protocol to grab at somebody’s weapon, especially somebody who has no reason to trust you. With the added fact that he couldn’t channel without the weapon, he was left with a sudden difficult to explain feeling of powerlessness and vulnerability. With a sigh, Alric drove his sword into the ground in front of him, tip first and released the Void. “So you’ve caught on. It wasn’t ever a secret, but yes I’m a wilder like you. Asha’man Rodric thinks I may have been channeling since I was in the army. I think he might be right. Apparently I’ve been channeling for a decade without knowing. I guess it’s not surprising, having such an ingrained Block.”


As for these rumors, about him being a blademaster. She didn’t need to know the whole truth. He hadn’t told Affie or Paks the whole story, and he considered both of them friends. He did need to put the rumors to rest though, just to avoid incidents like this. This also explained the parade of fools challenging him in the training yards. The light blinded idiots didn’t seem to realize they couldn’t win a heron blade with a practice bout. Alric looked down at the woman, who still seemed to be scooting closer, and said, “I’m not a blademaster, by the way.” It was true, he wasn’t. He knew he hadn’t answered any questions about the actual heron marked blade, but he was sure he knew how the conversation would go and he’d had that same conversation plenty of times with his men. He’d let them win the argument back then, and carried the bloody thing until the end of the war for morale reasons. Things were different now.

“I accept your apology, but sometimes it is better to ask permission first. For example, I wouldn’t grab at your quiver, or bow, without asking first. If you said no, I’d just live with it.” He groaned internally again, this conversation was already devolving into a storm of innuendos.

[Jack]

Cassie “The Problem Solver” Majere (aka “She Who Pounces”)

Cassie tilted her head, watching as the Soldier got all worked up in a slight huff. Well, perhaps worked up for him. From what she had seen of Alric, he was rather restrained and calm most of the time.

Whereas emotions were a bad thing for her most days, the young Majere considered unhealthy for others to go without at least some release or ranting. And she noted even as he plunged the sword into the ground that he couldn’t channel without it.

She didn’t bat an eyebrow when Alric mentioned he wasn’t a blademaster. “You daft goose, of course I knew that,” she said simply. “You probably channeled whomever thought it was a smart idea to poke you full of holes, and you ended up with some blade you’d rather tossed into a river, or stuck up some Trolloc’s rear.”

Her lips did curve into a smile when he spoke his last words.

“Alric Aurella, I’m not that kind of woman,” she said in mock mortification. Her lips curved in a coy smile. “At least not until you buy her a drink or three, ensure she heard a good story and did something incredibly stupid.”

Even as she spoke, however, her mind was forming a plan unrelated to the current line of discussion, but rather the immediate past one. She’d always been the impulsive one in the family, and her twin brother her only voice of reason. After all, when she was a little girl, and their older brother Jalen taunted them so, she’d taken it upon herself to stuff his boots with goat manure and then ambush him and proceed to wail on him. Mother hadn’t been pleased, but her lord father was torn between discipling a little girl and being proud she had taken on her older brother.

Without Coren to keep her in check, Cassie had only gotten worse. And it didn’t help that her increased control over her emotions caused her to form faster connections.

And so her mind drifted back to the Gaidin with the sun-gold hair and the announcement she was leaving for good. While it was depressing, the Novice found herself more angry than sad. Angry that the woman she felt something for had run rather than face her over emotions they both shared, angry that she had waited until after so much built up tension had exploded in passion.

Saidar flooded her like river, and she drank in as much as she could without being drowned. Everything seemed so much more vibrant, so much more clear. Even the fibers of her clothes, the softness of the grass, the colors of the tree leaves around her.

The threads of Air spun quite suddenly and Cassie looked at Alric with a wicked smile. The flows snapped into two directions, one that flung the embedded sword from its standing spot across the clearing, and the second that just swept the legs from beneath the Soldier and pretty much kept him in place, from arms to legs.

And she pounced, straddling Alric and looking down him with serious smile. “You are a flaming fool, my dear Soldier Alric,” she murmured. “The block is in your head, and that is the real weapon you should be relying on, not some flaming silly sword to help you channel.”

Her amethyst eyes locked on to those gorgeous baby browns and they danced with all the sincerity of troublemaker wanting to do some good. “You have a choice, Alric Aurella, find a way out of this predicament, because I can hold you here all day, or surrender and admit that you were defeated by two people ... some Tar Valon noblewoman and your own mind.”

She spoke much like her Cahirhienin mother now, her voice distinct, crisp, and almost musical. She betrayed only what she told, even though deep down she knew her embrace of saidar was hanging by a fingernail. She did the only thing to ensure she could keep her hold on the One Power to keep the Soldier her captive. She leaned down and kissed him passionately. The simple act alone created a new high of emotion that she latched onto and when she broke the kiss, she whispered breathlessly, “It’s your move, Soldier Alric. Don’t disappoint a simple-minded Tar Valoner Novice.”