The Grey Tower

Olin walked through the grounds of the Grey Tower, his mind awhirl with everything the Master of Soldiers had just told him. He had entered his name in the roll of students, and was now committed to learning as much as he could about the One Power.

Who would have thought I would be able to learn to wield the One Power, a chance to eventually become an Ashaman, Olin thought in wonder. Everywhere he looked there were people rushing about on Grey Tower business. Young women in pure white dresses travelled from chores to classes, while some in dresses banded in colors taught in the square. He saw a few men in fancloaks, their shimmering colors bringing to life the legends and stories he had heard by the fireplace on the ranch.

He had been told the first day was his to get accustomed to the Tower, and so he had found his room and then decided to enjoy the sunshine and nice weather. In his wandering he had seen the Warder's and their students drilling upon the sands. But he now found himself a bench and was idly picking at the embroidery on his nice new coat, the black fabric much nicer than anything he had worn around the animals he had tended before.

He had wandered the library, and was amazed by the wealth and prestige present in the Grey Tower. There had been books and treatises on almost every subject imaginable, and he looked forward to getting more chances to learn. But for now he was sitting and watching the flow of people, letting the newest step he was on sink in.

Kaira staggered under the weight of the box. Jars of colored ink clattered against each other. Oh sure she could attempt to use the Power, but given her level of experience she'd more likely lose ahold of saidar and drop everything and then where would she be? Besides, novices were forbidden to channel without supervision.

The box had arrived earlier this morning. She was looking forward to her free time when she would be able to dabble with the colors. But first, she had to get it to her room! She walked across the Tower grounds. Then she decided to cut through the gardens on her way to the novice quarters. Just as she was getting a grip on the box, her foot suddenly hit a stone.

She tripped. Colored ink splattered everywhere. Luckily, most of the jars remained intact, rolling away unharmed across the stone garden path, but a few smashed apart. Her dress was covered in spreading splotches of red and blue.

And so was the unfortunate soldier who had been sitting on a nearby bench.

Olin had been lost in thought, so he hadn’t seen the novice struggling with the box until it was just too late.

A life spent on the saddle and on the rolling foothills of Ghealdan looking after cattle had made Olin practiced at keeping a look out of the corner of his eye. One never knew when a calf would stray, or a cow would decide that the water was too good to wait for better footing. And so he was just rising to help her with the box, his rump having barely lifted the bench when he saw the cascade of colors spill from the tinking glass containers.

As Olin tried in vain to wipe of the blobs of red and blue that had covered his arms and pants in a freckling of rainbow brightness, he realized that he was literally rubbing the color into the fabric of his clothing. Thank the Light I hadn’t been wearing my jacket, Olin thought to himself as he spied the Soldier’s jacket sitting far enough away it had survived unscathed.

With little to do but let the color dry, and probably a good burning of his rough travellers clothes, Olin knelt down into an easy crouch and began to grab pieces of the glass jars out of the spreading pool of colors. As he did so he allowed the woman a moment to compose herself, he knew his sister would have had his hide for tanning leather if he had ever pointed out a flaw in her dresses. So he assumed the same would be true of a women who was made to wear a dress that was so shockingly white.

“Well that isn’t so bad, I don’t know if these were for painting or cloth, but it seems like you only lost a couple red and a blue. If there was a way to get this off the grass, it’s actually making a nice color,” Olin said with genuine friendliness as he pointed to the swirls of purple.

This close to her, he could see her pale skin, and was surprised to see that she was probably close to his own age, maybe a few summers less. He could see that she was clearly flushed, probably from having had to wrestle the box across the Garden from wherever she had come from, he idly thought as he wrapped the glass shards in one of his handkerchiefs.

Kaira climbed to her feet, muttering curses under her breath at the Light-forsaken rock. And when she saw the spilled colors, her face fell. Colored ink was expensive. She wouldn't be able to get another shipment for another three months!

Then a friendly voice spoke and Kaira startled as she realized that a young man was crouched by her, carefully picking up the shards of the broken jars. He, too, had splotches of color on his clothing. Her face burned with the blush that she knew was there. Oh, Light! Dirtying her own clothes was a horror enough. She had to get this poor young man caught up in this mess too? He was tall and well-built, with a rugged brown mop of hair. Kaira straightened the box and began to arrange the jars within and checking for cracks.

"They're for painting," she said. "Clothing dyes are far more acrid and would burn your skin. Only a couple broke? Thank the Light. It seems that I will have to do without red and blue."

Then she peered again at the soldier and noted the size of his arms. She pursed her lips in thought, and then smiled sheepishly.

"Could you help me carry this up to my room? I'd really rather not risk spilling more. I haven't seen you around before. Are you new? I'm Kaira Darrow."

She held out her hand to shake.

Olin was glad when the young woman beside him seemed to settle and collect herself. He figured no one who wore Grey Tower garb would be given to hysterics, but he remembered his sister often resorting to tears or foot stamping.

"They're for painting," she explained as she let him know that the mess would have been greater with dyes for clothes.

"Well no harm done then, I was still in my travel clothes and after as long as I spent riding, they were pretty much ready for burning," Olin said with a shrug as he gestured at the rough cloth tunic and pants he wore.

"Nice to meet you Kaira Darrow. My name is Olin, Olin Trakon," Olin said with a pause as she shook his hand and asked for help.

He deftly grabbed the box, lifting it a bit more gingerly now that he had seen how fragile the jars could be. Luckily the box wasn't heavy, and with a few shifts he was able to settle the weight comfortably.

"I'm actually just arrived here, my family had land in Ghealdan but I've arrived to train and see how much I can be taught. I have to admit the Tower is nothing like I had imagined on my ride here, it's something you have to see to believe," Olin said as he followed Kaira down the pathways, his eyes watching the ground for rough stones that could trip him up.

"How about you Kaira? Are you new as well?" Olin asked conversationally.

Kaira led him along the garden path and laughed at his question.

“New? Haha! No, Olin. I was born here. I know all the secret passageways that the servants use. All the best ways to sneak into the kitchens for a snack. And lots of other hidden nooks and crannies, too.”

Then she realized what that sounded like and flushed bright red. Not that she would mind finding her way into corners to sneak a kiss or two, but she didn’t want him to think that she was that sort of girl! Light, that would be quite inappropriate. Although she had certainly already made quite a colorful first impression. She tried to brush off her embarassment and instead tossed him a sly glance.

“What did you think the Tower would be like?” she teased. “A gleaming building of gold? Festivals with illuminators and desserts all day? Oh, you lived in the countryside. Mm, yes. Life in the city is quite different, isn’t it? There is so much to do! And the shops here sell absolutely everything. I would find it quite difficult to keep up my painting without supplies from the city. It’s expensive, but worth it!”

Olin followed beside the Novice Kaira, allowing her to lead him along the paths as he still knew relatively few areas of the Grey Tower. Still the walk was pleasant, the box was a relatively easy load to handle and it was probably the first time he had been escorted by a woman without his Mother or Sister hovering around.

A quick sidelong glance or two had him noticing her fair skin, the curls of hair about her neck and the confidence with which she walked through the Garden

When she spoke of knowing all the nooks and crannies, he coughed for a moment, thinking that she had somehow been reading his glances but as he looked away he realized she had quieted down as well. Thank the Light she didn’t read into that the wrong way. I would quite enjoy a moonlight walk or two, especially with a woman like this, but the Ashaman seemed pretty clear on the rules, thought Olin with a grin. At least with the box it wouldn’t be misconstrued.

“If you ever find yourself in the foothills of Ghealdan, I could show you the same kinds of things. Dells and gullies where you can hide from parents who have chores on their minds, or sandbars where the sun warms the mountain streams enough for a good summer swim. Even how to snitch a pie or two, although sneaking them from the Kitchens here seems like more of a quest to me,” said Olin with a grin as he relaxed and kept the conversation going.

Having a sister and a close knit family, he didn’t miss the teasing in her voice, or the glint of it in her eyes as she asked him about the Grey Tower. So pausing in his stride for effect, he made a show of checking his jacket and hat for straw, “Well now I reckon I was just amazed at how anyone could stack more than two hovels together in a row without their cousins,” Olin joked with a gleeman’s parody of a farmer or bumpkin.

“To be honest though, I can’t wait to get a chance to explore the city. That is definitely one disadvantage of the countryside. There isn’t much choice when it comes to the luxuries. I have heard once we receive our first pin we are able to venture out, so I may have to steal a recommendation or two for gifts to send home, and the best stores to explore,” said Olin as he remember a request his sister had pleaded for as he left. He knew she would be the envy of the summer balls if he could grab some unknown dress maker or such.

“If its not prying, what do your parents do for the Grey Tower?” Olin asked gently, he was curious as to how a family would work in a setting such as the Grey Tower, with the duties and demands required.