Fanfic:Caden Gaidin
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The summon came without warning. It arrived in the form of a knock at the door of Caden Ives' quarters. He was alone, dressed in his shirtsleeves, taking notes from a large volume of warfare history which rested upon his desk. His pen stopped in mid-word and he slowly looked towards the wooden frame, his green eyes narrowing. Who..? he asked himself tiredly as he soon rose form his chair, putting the pen down in the ink bottle. The Sa'ji'alantin picked up his long sabre and strode to the door, opening it while taking the precautions to be able to set his blade free unhindered.
He found himself facing a stony-faced Gaidin. He had sent he man many times, yet the name escaped his mind. A note was given to him without a word, and he unfolded it to read;
Your presence is required at the south edge of the Training Yard. Please be prompt.
It was unsigned, he noticed, yet stamped with the seal of the Mistress of Arms. Caden was very much so, prompt, after years of training in the Yards, he had matured beyond the dalliances of younger trainees. When the Gaidin left, again uttering no words, Caden made no delay in dressing himself in a deep grey coat and a black cloak, sweeping it back over his shoulders. After adding the black sash with avendesora patterns he had won on an auction held there in the Grey tower, he made sure Zi'lin - the long sabre given to him with the dying breath of his foster father - rested firmly by his side. Adding a sheathed, waved dagger behind his back, he was ready and left his quarters without lingering longer than to brush of some mud from his boots and lock the door.
He moved briskly to the appointed spot, and at the back of his mind, a question started to form. Is this, he wondered, what he thought it was? The mysterious raising test? He brushed the question aside. He was probably being called to supervise a Drin'far'ji lesson, he assured himself, or to escort some petitioner into the village. But there was the matter of the seal...
He was met at the Training Yard by yet another of the Gaidin, Urikanu shin Larithan. Caden's blonde hair danced in the wind, stirring before his vision, and he racked it back from his forehead. "Well met, Urikanu Gaidin. What do you have in store for me?" he said in a low voice, bowing. The other man held that wolf quality, the look of a man so confident that he had no need to convince anyone how dangerous he was, which made the fact even more evident. Of lately, Caden ha begun to suspect that he held the same quality. The difference was that while Urikanu stood a few feet taller than him, the Gaidin made the impression of a giant wolf.
The man didn't greet him at all with pleasantries. In fact, he brushed aside his greeting as well as his bow. "Follow me."
He proceeded to lead the way towards the Channeling Yard, of all places. It was an unlikely place for any Warder-in-Training to venture. This is most definitely out of the ordinary, he thought and strode behind the big frame of the Warder, who's behavior also could be frowned upon. Though Caden Ives remained silent and followed, unhesitant.
Within moments, he found himself being herded unceremoniously into the Channeling Yard. He noticed briefly the silent Aes Sedai, a dark-haired beauty of the Indigo Ajah, a look of concentration painted on her serene face. In a flash of silver light, a portal opened before him, and he was quite instantly pushed through the Gateway with a none-too-gentle tap from Urikanu.
The Gateway snapped shut behind immediately.
He found himself in a small antechamber, studying the sparse stone walls. It was quiet. The climate had changed palpably; it was colder here. The room appeared empty at first until he noticed the single table pushed up against the wall. While walking there, realization began to sink in. This was it. Finally, his time had come. His scaled steel amour and his worn shoulderpads, which he was sure he had left in his quarters just some short time ago, and even his gauntlets were all laid out before him on the table. Mechanically, he began to prepare himself, putting on the armor and the gauntlets, adding the shoulderpads and re-arming himself with the weapons he had studied for so many years when he was done with the leather straps and adjustment of his black wool cloak.
And then he waited.
The wooden door behind him opened some time later and he was quickly ushered out into a courtyard by armed men. He recognized, then, that this was the Citadel, the Grey Tower's outpost in the Borderlands. He had spent time training there before, and he recognized the solid fortress. He found that he had left a small room that was directly adjacent to the main courtyard.
Five figures were gathered in the courtyard before him. Four of the assembled figures he recognized immediately. It was the Warder Council, known to the entire Yard. The Mistress of Arms, the Master of Training, the Gaidin Captain, and the Warder-Channeler Representative stood at attention before the heavily fortified gates of the Citadel. A woman he recognized as Mahewa Sedai of the White Ajah stood slightly to one side.
Caden remained still and eyed the scene, his black cloak flapping in the wind. He forced the cold out of his mind, refused to feel it. The cold of the Borderlands was the kind which crept into your clothes and dulled your mind. He had been in the north before, and was familiar with the climate and atmosphere. He looked to the faces around him, recognizing many from the ranks above his own. Given eye-contact with Mahewa Sedai, he moved to offer her a well-mannered bow.
"Who comes before the Warder Council?" the Gaidin Captain intoned quite suddenly.
Caden's eyes shifted to the speaker, and he recognized that some answer is expected of him. Finding his place, he unsheathed his long sabre and knelt, grounding the tip of the blade. He lowered his head in respect and spoke, his voice clear and high. "I, Caden Ives," he voiced to the four standing before him, "Sa'ji'alantin of the Grey Tower, come before the Council." There was a natural script to this ceremony, one he respected and begun to follow.
The three Warders nodded, and at last, the Master of Training stepped forward. Caden has worked with him and under him for the entirety of his training at the Tower. Sigmund Gaidin seemed to symbolize his time in the training ranks, and it appeared appropriate that he supplied his final test.
Caden was certain, now, that this is precisely that: a final task.
"You have trained in our ranks and have been deemed worthy of a final assignment," said the Master of Training. "Sa'ji'alantin," he continued, "you are called to prove yourself worthy of the fancloak in the wilds of the Blightborder. You have three chances to approach this task. If you choose to step down today, you may come before us twice more. Once you agree to continue your test, however, you may not turn back without immediate failure. Once you accept your test, you must complete the test or you will be put out of the Tower permanently. Do you wish to continue?"
This question, he knew, had been put to every Gaidin who came before Caden and would face each that followed in his footsteps. He had been waiting for a long time till this day. In his early thirties now, Caden was one of the older to take this final test. His training had been prolonged due to different foreign assignments, and he had been running behind with his mandatory tasks for some time. Also, due to his skills with the sword, he had been assigned to train Drin'far'ji as well as Ji'alantin on several occasions. To add, the Privy Council and the Mentor Program also required time, time which should have been spent in theory lessons and refining skills. Now, he was ready. And he intended to move on.
"I do," he said firmly, yet placidly raised his eyes to meet Sigmund's.
The courtyard was bathed in a solemn hush. And the Master of Training spoke again. "You are called to protect this Aes Sedai, the symbol of your desired duty. Return with some token of your struggle; do not return to this fortress until you can bring some proof of your protection before the Council," he says simply. "If you return without such proof, or if you fail in your protection of this Aes Sedai-if she falls under your defense-you will be put out of the Tower permanently."
Never, Caden thought, nodding once in discernment, his eyes never faltering in the direction of Mahewa Sedai.
"Light guide your sword, and may your test be one of enduring strength."
His departure came quickly. He was provided with his mount, Riddle, and as soon as he and the Aes Sedai passed beyond the battlements of the Citadel, the thick oaken doors swung shut.
The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor man perfected without trials.
Those words echoed in Caden's mind now, two days after leaving the Citadel, as he and the Aes Sedai rode north, traveling among the hills which led towards the Mountains of Dhoom. It was his foster father whom had told him that, the hour before standing before the other High Lords and Ladies in the Stone. He had been accused of making a treaty with Ilian concerning trade of weapons. Things had not looked promising, and Lord Varcan had prepared to use his men to seize persons of importance to the most influential nobles in case things turned sour. The old man had been a fine tactician. Where lay his own strategy, he wondered, as he now faced an unknown outcome of this trial.
"What is it?" said Mahewa calmly. The sun was well on its way down to the horizon and her ageless face was only partly lit. Her blonde hair and light-green riding dress were covered by her grey rich wool cloak, yet her blue eyes were sharp as awls as they fixed on him. You could not fail to see them despite the darkness inside her hood. The gray, overcast sky had just let go of its rain, and the downpour turned the ground muddy and sleek. The Borderland chill had abandoned them soon after crossing the Border, after they passed the signal towers, and Caden's gauntlets leaked warm rain water as he held the reins. It was unnatural how hot and moist the air was, yet he knew that they now traveled the first fringes of the Blight. They would reach the towers of Malkier by dusk.
Yet he doubted they would reach that far.
Caden's eyes were narrowed to slits. He was not mistaken. "Something foul stirs," he murmured in a low voice, scanning the dark hills which surrounded them. "I reckon we need to gain higher ground, Aes Sedai, if we don't intend to be surprised." That was the longest sentence he had given her, since they first spoke after the ceremony. She had given commands, and Caden had obeyed. There was no reason for her, or him, to exchange pleasantries. They both aimed to fulfill the need presented, and to survive the Bight. And they were both professionals.
Receiving a nod from Mahewa, her eyes not giving away her thoughts, he added, "Stay below me, and I will be our eye." He eased Zi'lin in its scabbard and ascended the hill before them, spurring Riddle. In the falling rain, the rapid hoof beats sounded hollow and wet. The Aes Sedai climbed behind him, her brown gelding following to be reined in a few spans below. He was taking the role a Warder would, and she held no objections to it. At least she was letting him handle these aspects of the journey. He doubted all Aes Sedai would let a Trainee direct actions, even though this was a trial to earn the fancloak.
Almost reaching the hilltop, Caden dismounted in a fluid movement and advanced in a crouching position, hands on the sword hilt and eyes searching the landscape. He didn't have to reach the very top, since he saw quite well in all directions and his dark cloak provided good camouflage against the dark hill, not as well as a fancloak would but good enough. At first, he saw nothing. The rotten landscape was still and silent, if you neglected the rain. No shadows moved other than small trees stirring in the wind.
Then he saw something. A glimmer in the last rays of the sun. Steel at distance.
When he had seen the source he moved silently back from whence he came, and remounted, Riddle seemed to know what his report would reveal beforehand, and Caden stroked his mane reassuringly. "Trollocs. Fifteen of them," his jaw was clenched in determination when he spoke in a hoarse whisper. "They follow us now at small distance, covered by the rain. I saw no Halfman among them. They probably aim to strike when we set camp, when our mounts are hobbled."
Mahewa took the news without altering her Aes Sedai fa??ade, and Caden continued. "I suggest an ambush from this hill. You will have an elevated point of view from the hilltop after we come over it, striking down at them, and I will have the slope on my side."
Looking like a queen at court instead of a woman shadowed by trollocs in a stormy part of the Blight, Mahewa nodded to Caden's suggestion. "So be it. Do not fail me, Caden Ives, or I will make you regret it."
At first the rain filled the pause. "I will regret it either way if I fail, Aes Sedai," he said, his tone neither cold nor insubordinate, and spurred Riddle to encircle the hill, leading the way in the decaying, wet underbrush.
Then they waited, Caden crouching behind the hilltop to see the followers cross the distance to them. He and Mahewa were silent now, intent not to loose the element of surprise. Caden's heart beat a little quicker, yet controlled the fear he felt creeping along his spine. He kept it back, but didn't suppress it fully. Courage is fear when it has said its prayers. he thought, mouthing the Saniral family motto without giving voice to it. Mahewa was as still as a statue, the White Ajah channeler's eyes placid, features set like chiseled ice. There was no way telling what went on behind the big, blue eyes.
The moment came, and Caden spun back to remount Riddle, nodding once to the Aes Sedai. As soon as his other foot settled in the other stirrup, he spurred the grey stallion fiercely and came over the hilltop in a gallop, drawing his long sabre in deliberate motion. The Aes Sedai was right behind him and reined in with her side towards the slope. The hoof beats thundered in Caden's ears.
A motion rippled though the Shadow's creatures. Confusion and some understanding came. Inhuman shouts were heard and steel flashed in the setting sunlight. The warm rain made the grotesque beaks and muzzles glisten. As Caden descended against them, a ball of fire hissed past him and struck two trollocs, making them fall and scream in pain as the fire ate them. When half of them had realized what had happened, Caden came down upon them like an eagle at a pack of rodents.
Afterwards he could not tell how the fight had developed, all he knew was that he was alive, and the trollocs were either torched or cut. The slope entailed a massacre, with limbs and bowels spread in patterns around Caden. Sometime during the fight, he must have been dismounted, as Riddle stood with the Aes Sedai's gelding a bit off. He was clenching the hilt of Zi'lin so hard that his bloodstained gauntlets shook when he looked at them. His breathing came in hard ragged breaths and he blinked away tightened features and warm rainwater. At some places, the decayed grass was still burning, the rain hissing as it made the flames diminish. Stepping lightly over an impaled torso, Mahewa Sedai approached him. He straightened his back, tension leaving his shoulders. Glimpses of hat had happened came back to him, flooded over his mind quite suddenly. "Are you well, Aes Sedai?" he managed.
Nodding, Mahewa looked strained, worn. "Yes," she said, brushing back blonde hair from her eyes. "I have you to thank for that, Sa'ji'alantin. You did well." She eyed him with a hard gaze, reaching out to his arm. "You are hurt."
Looking down at his left arm, Caden saw a wide gash splitting the steel scales of his armored forearm. Blood dripped to the ground, mixing with the rain.
That was odd, he couldn't feel anything. Then he remembered that he had suffered a blow after he had been pulled down from his mount. All he felt was a throbbing sensation, yet he suspected that the pain would come when the adrenaline thinned in his veins. "Do not bother, I will tend to it. You are too fatigued to Heal..."
Before he could say another word, the world was fire and ice, and he convulsed, falling down on one knee. As quickly as the sensation had come, it was gone again and he drew breath again. As he was about to talk, brow lowered, she got a word in between. "Only I judge my capability, Trainee. And your wounds are my concern." He voice was strained, and she swayed a little, her blonde hair cascading in the wind. "On your feet, we need to be away before the rest of their tribe looks for them. The Bhan'sheen tribe likes to... play with their food, before they feast."
"Yes, Aes Sedai," said Caden and ground his teeth at the effort of rising, supporting himself on his long sabre. As he quickly set about to collect the proof needed, he added, "You are a hard woman. I would trust you with my life at any given battle."
Stopping in her tracks, Mahewa half-turned and gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Caden. And since you have done well this evening, I suppose I could trust my life to you sometime again." As she said that., remembrance of running after a beaked trolloc washed over Caden, and impaling him through his neck before reaching Mahewa while she was distracted. Things had turned to his favor that day, he concluded with a ragged breath, unclenching a cramped up hand.
When he was done, Caden cleaned his blade before riding hard towards south, escaping the dangerous nighttime of the Blight together with his charge.
The stalwart shadow of the Citadel rose up against the bleak horizon before Caden and Mahewa. He urged his horse onward, spurring the mount forward and glanced yet again to the Aes Sedai at his side. It was with the last of his strength that he forged towards the fortress in the distance. Completion, success: two lovely words indeed.
The test-his final test-was finished.
Caden's approach was noted and measured carefully, and with immaculate timing, the heavy gate to the Citadel creaked open. Again, once inside the quiet and functional courtyard, he was faced by the Warder Council. "Dismount, Sa'ji'alantin." The Master of Training had stepped forward.
Caden complied, bone-weary and still bloodstained.
"Do you come bearing proof of your success?"
Pulling a sack from his saddle, Caden opened it and poured out its contents, fifteen hands hit stone, giving wet sounds like fish falling upon a ship's deck. The Master of Training nodded and fell back. His proof was collected, and he was neatly led away by a silent servant, clothed in the livery of the Tower. The Council remained, alone, in the courtyard, studing and deliberating over his evidence. Mahewa remained as well.
He was taken first to a small, bright room, clean and warm. There was a large bath, the hot water sent wisps of steam towards the high ceiling. Having shed his armor and his weaponry, and finished the bath, he was presented with a white tunic, a red robe, and a black doublet. The small sign of the Grey Tower was embroidered on each. And finally, he was led once again to the courtyard.
The Gaidin and Gaidar of the Citadel had assembled themselves in a wide semicircle. At the center, however, stood the Mistress of Arms. She had taken the place where the Master of Training once stood.
"Come forward," she said, and Caden complied, striding to them. "Kneel." Not revealing how jaded he was, Caden clenched his jaw and knelt, lowering his head. This was the moment he had been waiting for for all these years, and now it was here.
"Do you come before your assembled brothers and sisters with a noble and just heart, wishing to join us as a Gaidin of the Tower?"
"I do," he said, in a hoarse, firm voice.
"Do you promise to uphold the Light in all you do, to live a life of duty, truth, and goodness?"
"I do," he repeated, keeping his gaze lowered, unmoving.
"Do you swear to serve and guard the Grey Tower faithfully?"
"I do," he said again, following the ritual.
"And finally, do you vow to devote your life to this cause, to swear yourself to the Light, the Tower, and the pursuit of justice?"
"Under the Light, and by my hope of salvation," he said, finally. "I do."
The Mistress of Arms was then handed his long sabre, and, took it in both hands, she paused for a moment. "May the Light bless this blade and its bearer, and may the Light illumine the path of this warrior." And then she handed Caden his blade. Accepting it with both hands, Caden had never thought the blade had been heavier. Maybe, it was the notion of the duty he was now sworn to, which played with his mind.
"Rise." Ellisande was handed another bundle, then, this one from the Warder-Channeler Representative, Saphire. He recognized this second gift immediately; the fluid fabric looked weightless, reflecting a myriad of color and shadow. The Mistress of Arms unfurled the fancloth cloak, a mirror image of the one she and the other Warders all wore.
"I grant you the title Gaidin; you are a Brother of Battle, and a Warder under the banner of the Grey Tower." With great gravity, then, she draped the cloak over Caden's wide shoulders and hooked the clasp at his neck. "Welcome." And for a moment, the stony faces of the surrounding Warders relaxed.
The Warder-Channeler Representative stepped forward, her Aes Sedai shawl at her shoulders. "By the power vested me by the Amyrlin Seat and M'Hael of the Grey Tower, I acknowledge and witness the raising of this Gaidin of the Grey Tower. You are entrusted to protect one Aes Sedai or Asha'man of your choosing to fulfill your destiny."
Tired, though triumphant, Gaidin Caden Ives closed his eyes. The mountain is conquered... I pray it wasn't for naught.
