A Cool Wind Blows [Attn: Garrett]

[Yuoaman]

Caedal

"I wouldn't go so far as to call me a lordling, Lady Velvaen," said Caedal as he searched his mind for any knowledge of the novice's homeland—betraying the barest of smiles. "Being of a House in Cairhien doesn't necessarily mean one is of the House, if you catch my meaning," he added quietly. His thoughts flashed back to his uncle and his study, with the beautiful map he suddenly realized why Velvaen's homeland sounded familiar.

"Tremalking? That is astounding, Lady Velvaen, I didn't even know that your home was populated," said Caedal, wonderment in his eyes. "Though that simply shows the gaps in my own education," he added quickly, hoping not to offend the young woman. For the briefest of moments, he considered bombarding the novice with questions on this exotic land before he recalled in a flash her final words. "Seanchan-" Caedal swallowed, taking a moment to consider his words carefully.

"Was it... bad?" he eventually asked—sincere, if awkward.

[Garrett]

Velvaen

“Yes. And no, I suppose.” Velvaen replied tiredly. “Our beliefs prohibit violence, so they met no resistance. They arrived, and they ruled.” As she gazed out at the thriving city of Hama Valon, Velvaen felt a longing for her little village back home–where her only worry was in the next piece of porcelain. “I don’t know much about them, to tell the truth. I don’t know how they rule, or any of their customs. But I do know that we were better off on our own.” Icy fire was in her eyes as she turned back to the Cairhienin. “They’ll erase us, Caedal. The Amayar will just be more subjects to the Seanchan Empress–we’ll disappear. That’s why I came to the Tower. My people need someone to free them, and it looks like I’m all they’ve got.”

Shaking her head as if to clear it, she gave a small smile. “Sorry, that’s rather dark of me, I suppose.” Leaning back against the windowsill, she cocked her head quizzically at the soldier. “Tell me about yourself. Why are you here?”

[Yuoaman]

[OOC: Apologies for the wait, I've been dealing with a sudden nasty cold the last few days—I'll try to be quicker with these posts moving forward!]
Caedal

After hearing Velvaen's story Caedal felt positively sheepish. This must be what drives her so, he thought as he considered the differences between their situations in the moments it took to begin a reply to her question. "I suppose I am here to escape," he said carefully, "though my uncle—the Lord Tarondred himself—was the one who carted me off to the Grey Tower he isn't what's keeping me here." Caedal paused to take a breath before continuing, "I can only guess at my uncle's reasons for agreeing to send me here I think it most likely that he believes that having an Asha'man of his House will add to his own prestige." With a wry smile, he added, "And I suppose it's just one less mouth to feed."

Caedal flexed his ruined hand as he searched for more words. "Whether my enrollment here has any positive effect on my uncle's position back in Cairhien matters little to me, it's the chance to finally make something of myself that I chose to go along with this. Back in Cairhien I was doomed to be a tool for my House one way or another." He cast his gaze out the window behind Velvaen, overlooking the city of Hama Valon, "I may still find myself a tool here in the Grey Tower, but at least my path isn't laid out plainly before me..." Caedal forced himself to focus his eyes back on the novice in front of him and added quietly, "If that makes any sense, Lady Velvaen."

[Garrett]

OOC: No problem, happens to the best of us! No need to rush. Velvaen

Trying to picture living under someone else’s thumb, Velvaen replied slowly. “So… you came for yourself and for your house? But, doesn’t it scare you–not having a direction?” She’d always known what she’d wanted to do–she loved her pottery, and had planned to become a master of the craft. The thought of being unstable, of drifting on the wind, was frightening… but, also, slightly invigorating. Corlien was the one who wanted to do that, not me.

Raising an eyebrow at Caedal, her tone became slightly admonishing. “And we’re students, not tools. Yes, we have to follow directions and do as we’re told, but the Asha’man and Aes Sedai have our best interests in mind.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Unlike your uncle. He sounds like a positively rotten man. Where I’m from, family doesn’t abandon its own.” Her last words registered, and brought up memories of own sisterly desertion. Turning back to the window to hide her sickly expression, she felt emptiness well up. A fine twin, I am…

“Uh… how are you finding it here? When we’re not doing chores, I mean.” Thinking back to what he had said, she frowned, irked. “And don’t call me ‘Lady.’ Unless you’d prefer I called you ‘Lord Caedal,’ that is?”

[Yuoaman]

Caedal

Caedal grimaced, "Indeed, I wouldn't care for that, La-" he caught himself on the title and made a face. "Apologies," he said, "it's a reflex I will have to work on breaking. As for your question... Velvaen, sometimes I feel that there I do nothing but chores. What little free time I do find for myself I mostly find myself preparing for my classes." Caedal caught the barest hint of a question in the novices eyes before quickly adding, "Classes that are generally going quite well. The more mundane classes cover similar material to what I studied back in Cairhien so I have little difficulty keeping up; it's the classes dealing with the One Power that give me the most...difficulty."

Acrid water in my throat, hands forcing my mouth closed, unbelievable pressure from all sides crushing me making me burn inside and out, light fad—

Caedal caught himself in this trance and forced himself back to the present, dragging himself out of his memories of saidin. He focused his eyes on Velvaen's and realized that his brow had grown damp with a cold sweat. Did she notice? Caedal's mind worked furiously, on the verge of panic, but Caedal was able to master his emotions and avoid making a fool of himself. "Well, I'm sure things will work themselves out," he finally said, feigning nonchalance poorly. Ready to redirect the conversation he added, "And how about you, Velvaen? How are you finding your classes?"

[Garrett]

Velvaen

“Quite well, mostly. Back home, we don’t talk about wars. Or politics. Or history… aside from our own, anyway.” Velvaen took on a sad, somewhat distant look. “There’s so much we never knew… learning about all this is so interesting, and important!—it would’ve made glad to have left, really. Under different circumstances.”

Shaking her head as if to clear it, she gave Caedal a slight smile. “About the chores, I couldn’t agree more. Sometimes I think the sisters would dismiss the Tower Servants just to give us a few extra.” Then she frowned concernedly. “And channeling classes are giving you trouble, too?” Velvaen failed to stop a grimace from spreading across her face. “I know what that’s like.” A shiver shot up her spine as she tried to ignore the moaning wind outside–so much like a different, more sinister gale. “Most of the time I can’t even touch Saidar, and when I do, channeling anything other than Earth is just—she couldn’t keep the frustration from her voice—just, impossible!” Realizing she was nearly shouting, Velvaen blinked and smoothed her dress, blushing slightly. "But... we'll get it eventually," she finished sheepishly.

[Yuoaman]

Caedal

Caedal blinked in surprise at the heat in Velvaen's voice. It was refreshing in a way, to hear someone vent like that. In Cairhien such displays were considered to be a sign of weakness or baseness, and he had learned quickly to avoid them himself. And she struggles like I do, he marveled, feeling almost like a burden had been lightened now that he knew another who carried it.

"I too—" Caedal searched for the right words, "face that challenge." He paused a moment, steeling himself, before continuing, "Seizing saidin—Light, even feeling it's very presence!—comes to me only with great difficulty, and when it does happen it causes me..." Veins coursing, seething with heat; chest heaving as it fills with smoke and— "...discomfort," he finished dully.

Suddenly cognizant of the fact that he had shared more with this strange young woman than he had with anyone in many years Caedal's face grew hot in embarrassment. His legs itched with the urge to bolt but he resisted—determined not to make an even greater fool of himself. If such is even possible. An intense gust of wind blew through the open window and Caedal's eyes widened as he noticed the sun outside—much lower in the sky than it had been when last he checked, he had completely lost track of time talking to Velvaen.

Caedal spun on his heel to face the novice directly and bowed deeply—if not so deep as on their initial encounter—taking care to avoid putting his left hand on display. "I have very much enjoyed speaking with you, Lad-" Caedal smiled slightly as he caught himself, "Velvaen." He lifted his head before continuing, "But I have a class beginning shortly and I assume you have more pressing matters than speaking with the likes of me. Though," he paused a moment to consider his words, "I would consider it a pleasure to speak again, if it please you..."

[Garrett]

Velvaen

Velvaen turned with Caedal to look at the plummeting sun. Light, it is late! She’d been lucky enough to dodge punishment once today, and she certainly didn’t want to test how long that luck would hold out. Shooting a worried glace back down the hallway, she turned back to the soldier. A small smile spread across her face as she spoke. “That it would, Caedal.” She couldn’t resist a little emphasis for lack of title. “And…” She unconsciously bit her lower lip, and when she continued, hesitation tinged her voice. “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind teaching me a bit of your Cairhienin etiquette sometime? Growing up on a farm isn’t great for that sort of thing.” Muttering to herself, she added “That curtsy with the books wasn’t too far from my usual, actually…”

As she turned to go, she paused. Swiveling back to Caedal, she gripped his forearm with a small, reassuring smile. “We will get this. Teaching channeling is what the Grey Tower is for—if anyone can help us, they can.” Then she spun and began making her way back up the staircase, pace quickening with each step she climbed, hoping Alarielle Sedai wasn't a stickler for tardiness, wondering if her last comment had been more for herself than for the soldier.