Ceralyn A'Delin

From Grey Tower Library
Jump to: navigation, search
Ceralyn A'Delin
Created by Ceralyn A'Delin (player)
Full name Ceralyn Havana A'Delin
Gender Female
Occupation Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah
Affiliation The Grey Tower
Nationality Tairen

Ceralyn Havana A'Delin is a Tairen Green Oathsworn Aes Sedai of the Grey Tower.


Ceralyn has long, reddish brown hair that reaches her waist and brown eyes. She stands about 5'5 and at sixteen is nearly done growing. Most days she can be found wearing a simple dress with her hair in a braid. She doesn't pay very much attention to her physical appearance since few people outside her family ever see her.

She is something of a recluse, preferring to stay indoors and help around the household. Those who love Ceralyn would say that she is one of the nicest people they know, but she appears cold to people who don't know her well. The truth of the matter is that Ceralyn is shy and takes a long time to trust anyone new. She has a difficult time talking to people when she first meets them, and especially dislikes men her age. Nobody can explain this, least of all Ceralyn herself, but she just does not relate well to men unless they are significantly older or younger than she is. She has a compliant nature and will obey anyone set in authority over her without questioning, driven by fear of punishment.


A light breeze sprang up from the Erinin, rippling the three crescent moons slanting across a field half red, half gold. There was something comforting in that banner, an assurance that the Stone still held, that life went on, even in the midst of such turmoil. Ceralyn wrenched her slender bamboo staff out of the mud, thinking wryfully that just about the only thing around her that hadn't changed was the mud, and that was the one thing she would not have missed.

She breathed deeply, inhaling the mingled smells of smoked meats, dried vegetables, shoe leather, straw and manure that permeated the streets of the Maule. It was a smell unlike any she had ever smelt, and though she hadn't been far outside of the city, travelers seemed just as equally repulsed and enchanted. Too late, she remembered her mother's admonition to always be alert in the market. Clipped carelessly by the edge of an ox-cart, Ceralyn scrambled up from the mud and gathered the bundles now scattered across the ground, holding her wide-brimmed hat with one slender hand, just beginning to form calluses from her return to work in the Stone. After a useless attempt at clearing the mud from her dark, ankle-length skirt and pale apron, she turned down the nearest street, breathing a sigh of relief at seeing cobblestone roads signaling the familiar path to the Stone of Tear. Even this simple excursion was proving too much for her health, weakened by six weeks quarantined in the lower recesses of the Palace.

The trip back from the market took a bit longer than Ceralyn had expected, and the sun was already high in the sky as she slipped in the small wooden door to the Palace kitchens. The smells in the room were much the same as those she had just left (though lacking the distinct stench of manure), meats roasting and vegetables simmering, signaling the imminent approach of the midday meal. Muaghde, the plump cook's assistant, who was always moving, but never working, scurried over, grabbing bundles and thrusting them at a small mousy girl meekly following behind her, all the while scolding Ceralyn for her late return. Her defensive protests overridden by a sharp slap on her backside, Ceralyn dashed for the stairs, cursing Muaghde the entire way for her treatment. She was not a child any longer, but Muaghde treated fourteen year olds the same as a child of seven years. Her resentment faded with the sting on her backside as she made her way to the cool marble halls of the Stone, curtsying for the nobles she encountered, though they never glanced at her.

Lost in her thoughts, Ceralyn reached the High Lady Agraria's quarters in no time. Demurely, as she had been taught, she opened the doors and immediately curtsied, her eyes cast down at the carpeted floors. Rising, she found, as she had expected, the quarters empty, save for her own mother. One must always curtsy upon entering, her mother had told her, for if even once you do not, and a noble should be there, you could very well lose your position. Ceralyn's family could not afford for her parents, her older sister Mieryam or Ceralyn herself to be replaced. There was a new baby on the way.

"You're late," her mother said flatly, not even turning from the rugs she was beating to look at her daughter. Ceralyn sighed inwardly. It was no use telling her mother reasons for her lateness- the attempt to explain would only infuriate her further. "You must learn to perform your duties more promptly. In a few days, you and Mieryam will have to attend to Lady Agraria on your own, and the lack of my presence must not be noticed. Do you understand me, daughter?"

Ceralyn murmured a meek, "Yes, mother," and immediately began fluffing the layered silks and embroidered pillows covering the massive bed. It was best not to aggravate her mother further- the coming child had made her even more irritable than before, sometimes almost unbearably irritable. She opened the double doors to the dressing room and made her way to the large glass windows, hoping the light breeze coming off the Erinin would wash away the smells of perfume and powder which still lingered.

Lady Agraria was in the hunt for a new husband, since hers had died mysteriously the previous year, leaving her nearly penniless. Ceralyn hadn't mourned his death, particularly since the man had roaming hands, which landed all too often on Ceralyn. Her mother had been callous, telling her to deal with it for the time being, despite the fact that twelve-year old Ceralyn had come home each night with tears streaming down her face. The memories were all too vivid in her mind, and each night she prayed that the flighty Lady Agraria would come home with a gentleman quite unlike her former husband. Although, with the way the woman was behaving, it didn't seem likely. Ceralyn would have found the entire situation rather comical, in a pathetic way, if only the manhunt didn't mean so much extra work for her, her mother and her sister.

She moved over towards the dressing table, rag in hand, to polish the gilded oval mirror that hung on the wall like a priceless tapestry, full of its own self-importance. She started as a rough hand grabbed her wrist and spun her around, clasping another callused hand against her mouth. Ceralyn tried in vain to scream, but even if she had been able to, her mother wouldn't have heard her. Tears welled up in her chocolate eyes, but she shoved them down forcefully and straightened up firmly. She would not let them see her fear.

"Yes, that's her, I can sense it." The voice, the honeyed voice of a female, came from behind the hulking man holding Ceralyn. She twisted to see over his shoulder, just as the woman moved into her sight. She was tall and slender, cloaked in thin deep red silk that clung with every motion. On her hand glinted a gold ring, and as the woman approached, Ceralyn could make out a serpent eating its own tail. That ring fascinated her and she forgot to struggle for her freedom. The woman snapped two fingers and the man released his grip on Ceralyn. With the return of her freedom, Ceralyn regained her senses and dashed for the doors to the bedroom, to her mother, to safety. A sharp peal of laughter stopped her short; she couldn't move. The Aes Sedai, as Ceralyn now knew her to be, glided forward, still laughing.

"She shall dash from Destiny,
But the glowing Fire within
Shall bring to Heights of Glory
On the Seat shall she sit
Bending wills to Tower Majesty…"

"Such a primitive Foretelling Marieta had- so simple to understand, so unlike the Foretellings of the past, where dozens of Aes Sedai studied the records for months, cross-referencing with old prophecies and ancient documents before there was even a hint of what the Foretelling might mean. I wonder why I even keep her. But then, the Foretelling is a Talent I never had, and even this simple one gives me a chance to wreak havoc." She laughed. "Poor Marieta Sedai. Trying so desperately to hid the Foretelling, to protect you, but she never could control it. So simple-minded, protecting a young girl of perhaps fifteen-years from me! And they say you have the potential to accomplish things unseen since the Age of Legends. But then, you aren't all that strong, now are you? It would almost be worth it to let you go, to see what happens, how you overcome the obstacles Marieta sees in your path, how you do what she says you will, especially when you are of middling strength, even by the standards of today. Of course, by the standards of the Age of Legends, you probably wouldn't have even attained the shawl, though one can never be certain. There were some who probably should have been kept…"

Ceralyn listened to the woman with half an ear, confused and uncertain as to what the woman was talking about, but focused on escaping from her grasp. Something was preventing her from moving, and if she could only get it to relax its grip, perhaps she could make it to the doors before the woman did. Then again, she was still weak from her illness, and the woman was a witch with the ability to channel. Ceralyn groaned. She didn't have a chance with those odds.

"…years. She didn't say she wanted you now, just to make sure that Marieta's Foretelling didn't come true. It's understandable, her not wanting you to accomplish it when she has worked so hard to prevent that for eternity. But of course, she did kill my son the last time I captured someone she wanted me to only keep an eye on, so perhaps I should be cautious. I shan't kill you now, at any rate. Moghedian always hated people who acted rashly." The woman nodded firmly to herself. "I will return. You are to tell no one of my visit, and you are not to say anything about me or my return. You will be my… pet project, one might say. I shall keep an eye on you, and one day, I shall return for you." With that, the woman and the man vanished into thin air.

Ceralyn collapsed on the floor with a huge sigh of relief as the bonds holding her disappeared. A deep sense of fear infused her body, even as she puzzled the actions of the woman. She had obviously been sent by some woman named Moghedian to make sure what a Mareita Sedai had said about her didn't come true. But her orders didn't seem clear. Had she been supposed to take Ceralyn with her or just warn her? Why had she left her with the promise to watch her and return for her? What was Ceralyn supposed to do that this woman didn't want her to do? Why was she supposed to prevent Ceralyn from doing whatever that was? Ceralyn sat on the floor, weeping, as sunlight faded to twilight and darkness fell.

Dark gray storm clouds covered the sky in thick layers, threatening to mix pelting rain with the tears streaming down Ceralyn's face. The regal horses pawed restlessly at the ground, eager to move on, but the Aes Sedai was clearly not ready to leave, and firmly silenced the animals with a glance. Ceralyn was absolutely terrified of the woman, being as she was Aes Sedai, but the look on Mieryam's face frightened her even more. It was a look of utter disgust that sent a terror filled chill down Ceralyn's spine ever time she caught her sister's glare. Her heart felt as though it was torn in two. She knew how her sister felt. She had treated Delilah the same way when the Aes Sedai had taken her away, but she never thought it might be her sitting in the coach, waiting. Aes Sedai were witches, the Dark One's soul on earth, and Mieryam believed that just as firmly as Ceralyn herself had believed it. Until they told her she would become one of them.

Ceralyn's mother emerged from the palace, still in the uniform of a High Lady's attendant, the very same dress Ceralyn had been wearing just a moment ago. Now it lay in shreds on the paved stones of the courtyard, the dark fabric tainted by her evil. She stepped over it delicately and stood alongside Mieryam, holding baby Estande, watching Ceralyn with a look of disdain that Ceralyn had only ever seen on a queen. Ceralyn whimpered slightly, sinking back into the welcome confines of the carriage, and curled in a corner. The door opened and the Aes Sedai climbed in. She was tall, willowy and blond, with the air of a woman who was in charge and knew it. She smiled warmly at Ceralyn, but the icy cold look Ceralyn gave her in return was a clear message of division. She spoke a few words to the driver, and the slow rumble of the coach began to fill Ceralyn's ears, drowning all but the sounds of her tears as she left the only home she had ever known.

Only two years before, fourteen-year-old Ceralyn had been confronted with her very first channeler, a woman who looked very much like the Aes Sedai before her. It had been a terrifying encounter, and one she had kept in the inner depths of her heart, sharing with no one. She couldn't trust the willowy blond dressed elegantly in silks and seated in the rickety carriage as though it were a royal throne. She couldn't trust any Aes Sedai, but especially not one who bore such similarity to the one who had promised to return for her when the time was right. How could she know this was not the woman who had spoken of killing her? She had begged her mother not to send her away with this woman, but she had been scorned, as was any girl who was discovered to have the ability to channel. Ceralyn sank into the cushions of the coach as the memories of that day, the day the Aes Sedai had come to Tear, flooded her head.

Hour after hour passed, days melting into one another with the incessant rain pelting the nation. The countryside of Tear flew by on either side of the carriage, darkness covering the open fields where Ceralyn had once ridden her horse, trampling the grass beneath his hooves as her hair whipped around her face with a vengeance. The tears, which had not ceased to fall since their journey had begun, hit the fabric of the seats with the same loud drumming as the rain outside the coach. The Aes Sedai wisely did not speak, instead reading thick, leather-bound books she had apparently acquired on her journey to Tear. That, Ceralyn had discovered, had been her real purpose- to find valuable books, not girls who could channel. Ceralyn's discovery had been an accident, a welcome one, according to the Aes Sedai, who had told her parents that they were always on the search for girls with the ability, but an unwelcome one for Ceralyn. Now she had no home, no family, and no friends. Nothing but the clothes on her back. The tears flowed freely, staining the pale yellow dress with darker splotches as the landscape flew past them.

The journey seemed to go on for months, but Ceralyn didn't bother to ask where they were going. They weren't going home, and that was all that mattered to her. The world, which had once seemed a wide-open possibility to her, now was a prison, a wall separating her from everything she had ever known. Would she ever be home again? The tears no longer came, but the ache in her heart grew ever more poignant with every mile of road the carriage rumbled over.

As the coach jerked to a sudden halt for the first time in days, Ceralyn rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, yawning widely. The horses neighed as the Aes Sedai climbed out to speak to a man, of whom Ceralyn could see no more than broad shoulders through the window of the carriage. Something about the way he stood, confident and deadly in every motion, frightened Ceralyn, and she wondered how the woman could even bear to speak to him. Then again, she was a witch, and she was probably accustomed to dealing with things others would shy away at.

The Aes Sedai, who Ceralyn had discovered was named Setae, motioned for Ceralyn to join her, and as she got out of the carriage, Ceralyn was awestruck by the massive fortress in front of her. Stone walls rose from wrought gates and cylindrical towers where the occasional glimpse of a man watching over the surrounding countryside could be seen. Through the open gate behind the man, Ceralyn could see young men and women, dressed in plain black coats and white dresses, scurrying behind women with shawls, and in the far corner, men in breeches sparring with swords. Setae spoke, drawing Ceralyn's attention away from the fascinating scene.

"Ceralyn, this is my Warder, Daemon." Ceralyn curtsied instinctively; her eyes, which were supposed to be cast downward, were instead sizing up the man, larger than life. She had heard so many stories about these men, who devoted their lives to defending the witches, clothed in shifting cloaks which made them nearly invisible, but she had never expected to see one. To her surprise, he looked just like a man, though a bit larger and more wary than most. She murmured a polite greeting to him as she rose, but he had already disappeared.

Setae Sedai took Ceralyn's wrist and led her into the depths of the fortress as the carriage rumbled away, taking with it the last remnants of Ceralyn's former life.

Career History

  • Novice
  • Accepted
  • Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah
  • Amyrlin Seat