Fanfic:Dedicated Strength Comes at a Cost
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Summons
Phineas Rubinia stood among the forge workers. His black cloak hung on a peg out of the way of the sparks that would spray as he struck hot iron and steel with his hammer. The blacksmith's apron offered the only protection from those small bits of flame, and Phin had long become accustomed to the feel of the little speck as they hit his flesh. They hardly ever left a burn, and what they did leave was negligible. His muscles rippled as he struck the piece of steel that would become a knife for the kitchens. As a Soldier, they would not let him forge any kind of weapon, so the closest he came to doing so was a knife for the kitchens. Still, he couldn't complain. He enjoyed working among the Grey Tower blacksmiths. They were an earthy lot, and they treated him as any other man once he removed his black coat. In this place, all were equal. Saidin only existed when other channelers were present, which was not the case today.
There was laughter among the men as they joked about life, and Phin only idly paid attention to their jests. He lost himself in the work, allowing himself to become one with his workstation. The Master of Soldiers strode into the forges, cutting off the laughter. Phineas didn't notice, however, until the man was practically standing on top of him. "Phineas Rubinia, you are summoned," he intoned in his formal voice. "The hour waits for no man. Come." Phineas looked up, eyes wide with surprise. Could this really be what he thought it was? He didn't even think to take off his apron, instead just grabbing his coat and following the Asha'man. He had grown a lot since coming to the Grey Tower, both in the Power and as a person. Surely, he wasn't ready for this test, though. Right? Light, he was still so young. There was still so much he needed to learn. Behave like an Asha'man, he told himself, and he assumed the Void out of habit. In the time since his break in the Forges, he'd found the Void to be a great way to organize his thoughts. It allowed him to think without emotion clouding his judgment, which in turn allowed him to reign in his feelings.
The two men walked through the Grey Tower, descending deep into the foundations of the building. The Master of Soldiers led Phineas into what had to be the lowest basement, a place Phineas had never been before. He took in every crevice of the pale rock which made up the walls. Eerie shadows traveled down the hall as they moved to the only lit door, which the Master of Soldiers opened with the Power. Phineas entered the room first and caught sight of the room for his testing. Three silver arches, a ter'angreal if he didn't miss his guess, stood in the room, drawing the eye. Three Asha'man sat near the ter'angreal, working the flows to power the device. All in all, eight Asha'man stood in the room, and Phineas did not recognize any by name. He thought he'd seen a few when they'd allowed him to study in the Vaults, but he couldn't be sure.
The Master of Soldiers turned to Phineas and faced him with the weight of his office. "NO man hears these words until he stands where you stand now, Soldier," began the man. "Once you begin, you must continue until it is ended." Phineas nodded at the words. He knew his part in this ceremony, and for now it was that he remain silent. "If you refuse at any time between entering the first Arch and leaving the third, you will be put out of the Tower as though you had approached the Room of the Arches three times and each time refused." The Master of Soliders paused as if to give Phineas time to speak, but the Soldier uttered no words.
"To seek, to strive, is to know danger," continued the Asha'man. "Some men have entered the Arches and never come out." Phineas thought the Master of Soldiers looked at him with compassion before continuing. "Even when the ter'angreal was quietened, they did not reappear," he explained. "Not then, and never since. To survive, you must remain resolute. Falter once, and you will fail and . . . " The silent reality of what might happen to Phineas hung palpably in the air. He steadied his face against the possibility of death. He was not the sniveling young boy he had been when he came here. He had been broken and forged anew, becoming cuendillar in the process.
"This is your last chance," said the Master of Soldiers. "You may refuse now, and it shall be counted as the first attempt."
Refuse now, Phineas, and you fail your new resolve, Phin told himself.
"If you choose to go on," continued the Asha'man, "then there will be no turning back until you either return from the third Arch, or remain lost in the Arches for the rest of the Ages." The briefest of pauses passed, so small it might not have been a pause at all. Yet, Phineas interpreted it as a challenge to his strength. "It is no shame to refuse, many Asha'man could not face the Arches the first time," admitted the Master of Soldiers. "Choose, Soldier. Accept, or refuse."
"I accept," came Phineas's emotionless response, wrapped up in the Void as he was. He released the Void, letting the anxiety and fear hit him. He wanted to savor the memory of this moment, and that included feeling the negative emotions as well as the joy and excitement he felt about the testing.
"Then, ready yourself for the Arches," was the man's reply. Phin looked around before realizing that he must be naked to enter the arches. Throwing his black coat on the ground, he kicked off his boots before undoing his apron. Exposing his muscled chest, he undid the laces on his trousers, removing them and undergarments in a few quick gestures. One of the Asha'man took his clothing, and Phineas felt the eyes of the others on him, getting his blood pumping. He looked the Master of Soldiers in the eye, however, not letting his obviously embarrassing situation affect his decorum in the face of the test.
Phineas moved with the Master of Soldiers to one of the Asha'man in the room, who called out, "Whom do you bring before the Arches?"
"I bring one who comes as a candidate for Dedication," replied the Master of Soldiers as Phineas stood, silently wishing his body would calm down and his face would lose the flush it had found in this situation.
"Is he ready?"
"He is ready to leave behind what he was and, passing through his fears, gain Dedication."
"Does he know his fears?"
"He has never faced them, but is willing."
"Then let him face what he fears." The Asha'man moved aside, and the way into the first arch was open.
"The first time is for what was," explained the Master of Soldiers. "Be steadfast. The way back comes but once." Nodding, Phineas gave the Master of Soldiers a nervous smile before confidently striding into the First Arch. His mind raced trying to guess what might happen, but he did not land on anything definitively before a light flashed. The Asha'man in the room saw the light flash, and the Soldier disappeared into the light. A few chuckled inwardly because of his reaction to being naked among so many man, but the three channeling into the ter'angreal didn't even bat an eye.
The First Arch
The heat of summer was heavy on Phineas's small town. It was the town that had become his home since his being apprenticed at the age of 8. Now, nearly 20 years old, he had watched the entire community change as grandparents passed on and children were born. Master Forbes had finally declared that he was ready to begin journeying with his skill. Phineas had made it. He would become a blacksmith in some other small town, and he would find himself a place in the hearts of that community. He would finally be accepted among others.
The news had been enough to send Phineas out to the local tavern, which was one town over, to get a couple of drinks and enjoy some music. The Tardy Wench had a boisterous name, but the proprietor kept a clean common room—from the state of the tables and floors to the songs sung from its stage. Phineas enjoyed a couple of pints of ale before deciding to return to the bed he would soon be leaving in the room he had occupied with the other apprentice Cymon for over a decade. The sun was nearly fully set by the time Phineas returned to his home, happy with the realization that he would be leaving soon. His horizons were bright.
He found Cymon in their room, waiting for him. He was clothed only in his small clothes, waiting for his lover to return so that he might congratulate Phineas for their both being allowed to journey. They would leave together, obviously, and enjoy each other's company in that time. Perhaps, they would even open up a forge together in a bigger town. They could travel to Four Kings or Whitebridge. Surely, in cities that large, there would be work enough for two blacksmiths among those who were already there. With thoughts of a future together, Phineas melted into Cymon, and the two spent the night in each other's arms—celebrating that they would finally be allowed to pursue lives of their own.
When the sun finally rose, the two men were sprawled together in bed, naked. Phineas opened his eyes groggily to see his Master's face looming over them. The shade of red displayed on that face was so deep that Phineas knew immediately they were in trouble. He shook Cymon awake yelling at him that they needed to flee. He grabbed the clothes he had worn the day before and awkwardly, hurriedly began putting them on as his former mentor yelled obscenities and curses upon his head. He ran so quickly that he didn't see if Cymon had made it out with him. Surely, the other man had escaped. Kemryn Forbes had been too focused on Phineas to do much with Cymon, or so Phineas thought.
It wasn't until he heard the angry mob while he was hiding in the woods that Phineas realized Cymon had not gotten away. They dragged the naked form of Phineas's friend and lover through the village square where a large oak had grown for generations. Phineas had played under the boughs of that tree many times, enjoying the shade as he began a friendship with Cymon. The two had been rivals at one point, but eventually they became heart friends, which developed into something more. And they had been happy. Phineas couldn't help himself but walk towards the mob. He could hear Cymon screaming in terror as they strung up rope through the branches that had once protected the pair of them. Phineas stood, dumbstruck, at the sight. That was until he met Cymon's eyes over the tops of the crowd. Instantly, sobs began to rack the blonde-haired blacksmith as he saw the pleading in his lover's eyes.
A light to the right of Phineas drew his attention for a moment. An archway had appeared in the side of the thatcher's house. Part of Phineas's mind rebelled against the doorway because he knew it shouldn't be there. Looking around, he saw a wood axe standing outside the mayor's house—a pile of wood stacked neatly beside the house showed exactly why it was out. Even in the summer, the mayor's wife loved to cook in her wood-burning oven. Phineas looked from Cymon's face as the noose was fit over his head, to the glowing doorway, to the axe. He could take up arms and try to save his lover. They would most likely both die. But could he abandon Cymon to this fate and just walk away?
The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.
The voice spoke in Phineas's head, and he knew not why it was. Still, he looked again at the arch. He knew that he must walk through it, leaving Cymon to his fate. Giving one more look to the axe, Phineas felt the tears and snot streaming down his face as he wept bitterly while walking. He stepped into the doorway, trying to turn to look at Cymon one last time, but light flashed and stole that sight from him.
Intermission
And, immediately, Phineas was back in the chamber under the Grey Tower. The Asha'man were waiting for him. He was naked again, but the tears were still streaming down his face. His previous embarrassment was no more, and he looked into the eyes of the Master of Soldiers, willing his pain to make it clear to the man what he had experienced.
One of the Asha'man poured a chalice of water over Phineas's head before proclaiming, "You are washed clean of what sin you may have done, and of those against you." Phineas shivered. He couldn't have left Cymon to that fate. He knew Cymon was happily living a lie among the people he had just seen kill him, but that didn't eliminate the raw emotions he felt at watching the man hanging from a tree. They had been happy; the ter'angreal had reminded him of that. That happiness was gone. The Cymon whom Phin had loved had effectively been murdered by their community. "You come to us washed clean and pure, in heart and soul."
"The second time is for what is," explained the Master of Soldiers. "The way back will come but once. Be steadfast." Phineas realized that he was only a few steps from the second arch. He would survive this. He would be stronger for it. Wiping his face clean of tears and mucus, he steeled himself, becoming more erect in stature and removing all emotion from his face. Phineas Rubinia stepped purposefully towards the second arch, and this time the flash of light did not catch him by surprise. Instead, he considered it the forging fire that would strengthen him.
The Second Arch
The Vault was a familiar sight for Dedicated Phineas. His aspiring to the Indigo Ajah allowed him certain freedom within the various items of Power that were stored there. His sword pin gleamed brightly on his collar. He kept it polished like new, a remnant of the fervor with which he received his pin. He was progressing in his studies, and part of that was teaching classes to other learning-ranked members of the Tower. Today was one such class, albeit an informal one. He had only one student in today's lesson, a Soldier named Galval Trakoihan. Phineas had developed a close relationship with Galval ever since the Dedicated had taught the Soldier's class on Saidin basics. They were similar in style of channeling, and they had the same strengths with the elements. Both were naturally gifted with Earth and Fire and found weaving with Air and Spirit difficult to manipulate. The line between teacher and student faded a bit whenever they were alone together, but Phineas was sure not to let the line between Dedicated and Soldier fade completely. He longed for the day when Galval would receive his pin. This would free them up to engage in a deeper relationship.
The current lesson involved studying some of the unknown ter'angreal that were stored in the Vault. They were handling a metamorphosing dog figurine that currently had no known use. Phineas had needed to get special permission from the Master of Soldiers and the Indigo Ajah to allow Galval to study ter'angreal with him. The deciding factor had been the young man's latent ability to read ter'angreal. Such talents were rare, but they needed to be developed. The Indigo Ajah also studied such Talents, and so Phineas had been tasked with documenting every lesson. He had created a ter'angreal for the task. It sat idly on the table, a small pen moving fluidly across parchment as it recorded every word. Phineas only had to ask questions and have the Soldier respond for it to entire into the official record of the lesson.
"What do you feel when you touch this ter'angreal, Soldier," Phineas said with his words, but his tone was much more carressing. With the ter'angreal in play, they had to be more formal with their language. Body language, however, was free to be as informal as they wished. Phineas was close to Galval, looking over his shoulder with his chest pressed upon the Soldier's back. He had almost whispered the words into the Soldier's ears, but the ter'angreal wouldn't have picked up the question. Thus, in this position, he could encourage Galval in a way that he might not want the Master of Soldiers nor the Indigos to read.
Galval picked up the ter'angreal at the question, running his fingers over the figurine as he studied it. While being handled, the dog figurine morphed into a cat, then a bird, and back to a dog while also changing from grey to green to black and back again. When Galval seized saidin, the changes happened more erratically and more frequently. Perhaps, he shouldn't have begun channeling. Phineas was supposed to be the one to actually test the ter'angreal per the Soldier's recommendation, but what harm could come from the lesson? The Soldier had been right every time thus far. "I think," Galval said, "A thread of Spirit placed just so there at the dog's chest." He indicated with his finger. "With Fire and Air placed here on the head and here on the tail, respectively." The detail in the description was necessary for the transcript. Phineas gestured for him to continue with his channeling.
"Let me see how that works," Phin said for the transcript while Galval touched thread-thin weaves to the places he had suggested. He watched the ter'angreal pull more of the power from the Soldier, activating. However, from the look on Galval's face, something was wrong. In a rush, even more power was drained from him. Then, with a flash of light, Phineas was on the ground. He looked up from where he lay, head ringing from what he thought must have been an explosion. Shaking his head clear, he looked around for Galval. He found the man seated on the other side of the Vaults. There was blood running down his face from where he must have hit his head, and it fell down his face into his eyes. However, Galval didn't appear to care. He instead sat with his hands out in front of him. The dog figurine lay broken and discarded in front of him, but his eyes rested not on it. Nor did they see much of anything.
"Galval," Phin said with a croak. He coughed his throat clear and repeated, "Galval, what's wrong?" Getting onto his hands and knees, Phin crawled over to the other man. Every inch of Phineas ached from the effort, but he needed to look over the Soldier. After all, he was the responsible one as the Dedicated. Of course, if he had said that aloud, Galval would have laughed in his face. However, inquiries would be made, and Phineas would have to report the incident to both the Indigos and the Master of Soldiers. He would probably lose his access to the Vaults after this. If not, he'd be given an Asha'man minder for his studies, which would make matters worse. No Asha'man liked to have to babysit a Dedicated. Soldiers were expected to need minding. Dedicated, however, were expected to know better.
"I can't feel the Source, Phineas," yelled the Soldier. Phin realized that he had let himself get carried off into thought, but the words of his friend hit him, draining all color from his face. With the screaming came the man's tears, flowing freely. "I can't feel it," he repeated to himself in a low whisper as he began to rock back and forth. His arms wrapped around his chest as if he was trying physically to hold himself together. It was obvious that he had shattered mentally and emotionally. Phineas sat back on his heels and moved to reach out towards the man. He could comfort him. Perhaps, the Yellows could do something. This was not the end.
Those words were ready on his lips when a new light appeared in the room. A doorway that had not been present was now there, and Phineas looked at it in confusion. The way back will come. Be steadfast. echoed in his head, nearly drowned out by the wails of a man who had lost everything. Taking his hand back, Phineas rocked back on his heels and stood up. Every inch of him ached from the movement, but he knew he must go forward. Galval looked up as he was walking towards the door and started screaming at him, "Where are you going? You can't abandon me! This is your fault, Phineas. I will die because of you…" Those last words came as Phineas stepped into the doorway, face steeled against the words. In a flash, Phineas was consumed by the light.
Intermission
Phineas stepped back into the testing chamber with his face staring coldly ahead of him. Looking into his eyes, however, would show the pain and anguish hidden there. Memory of the test came to him and with it came a loathing for the men who were putting him through this. He wanted to be one of these monsters, to put other men through this same test. The idea revolted him, and yet he still felt the desire to finish. He would not give up. He would be strong.
Cold water flowed over him a second time as a different voice entoned the ritual words: "You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul."
The Master of Soldiers approached Phineas once again. He was smiling gently, which felt like an odd response to the look of hatred Phineas knew was on his face. "There is but one left, child," explained the Master of Soldiers. "Come back to us." Phineas bared his teeth in what he thought might be mistaken as a smile. It was definitely more of a sneer. "The third time is for what will be." Phineas mentally acknowledged the logic in the progression, and part of him idly speculated what made this ter'angreal so detailed in the hallucinations it planted in the user's mind. That part of him, the part that wanted to learn, beat against the hate until it was no more. DId he hate the men for what they were doing to him? Yes, but he would endure it and afflict the same test on others if it meant he could learn more, could study more.
"The way back will come but once. Be steadfast."
There was a different determination in Phineas's step this time. He was determined to make it through not because he must be strong. No, his strength would come regardless of his conviction. Phineas, instead, was determined not to let them beat him. He would not let these men ruin his plans; this ter'angreal would not defeat him. And so, with that last thought of victory, Phineas stepped into his final archway—the light flashing around him.
The Third Arch
The grey skies overhead foreshadowed of the impending storm facing the world. There was not a patch of sunlight in the sky. There hadn't been for years, causing the land to become barren. Most attributed this to the Dark One. Phineas Rubinia, Asha'man of the Indigo Ajah, was inclined to agree with them. The second War of the Shadow had raged for almost as long as the clouds had covered the sun. Without the Ogier, Plant-weaving channelers, and sun-replicating ter'angreal, humanity would have perished long ago. With the clouds had come a resurgence in Dreadlords, some of whom Phineas knew personally. The Black Ajah—which had once been viciously denied by any in the three towers—had shown its ugly face. Phineas watched as some who he had known since his days as a Soldier revealed their true allegiance to the Shadow. Hope had almost been lost that day, but the Grey Tower had rallied faster than the White or the Black. All three physical towers were no more, having been destroyed by the forces of the Shadow after the first year of the War.
Thus, Phineas and an Indigo Sister worked together, hidden in a cave in a remote island off the coast of Mayene. They had been in seclusion for almost a year now, working frantically to create any ter'angreal, angreal, or sa'angreal that they could. Maimed or dying channelers would come to them, sacrificing their abilities to make new angreal and sa'angreal. Likewise, some of the Indigo would come when they called to lend their strength at creating the latest weapon. Of course, with Qamir Doon fighting for the Shadow, no weapon remained solely among the forces of the Light for long. Phineas knew Qamir when she was Aes Sedaii, had thought he had. They had risen together in the Indigo. And, yet, now she fought for the Shadow. Whatever he made, she could copy. What she made, he copied in like turn. Weapons of mass destruction came faster and hotter every new day, and Phineas was glad that they had had the presence of mind to bring an Oath Rod with them to their island. Otherwise, he would've been hamstrung by the Three Oaths he'd sworn upon receiving his dragon pin and cord.
"Asha'man Rubinia," called his Indigo Sister.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Vileth?" he replied with a tone that reflected the frequency with which he had made this comment."You can call me, Phineas." The only response he got was the flat-eyed stare of an Aes Sedai. While those looks did not bother him as they once had, he sighed in resignation before moving over to join Vileth. "What is it, Vileth Sedai," he said just as formally as she had called him over. Six months together in this cave, even longer spent in the Tower as members of the same Ajah, and she still saw the need for formality.
"Do you think this design would work?" she asked, gesturing at the paper before her.
"You wish to make Balefire!?" he exclaimed, looking over the plans. They were sound, perhaps too sound. The rod she proposed making would allow any channeler to produce balefire. "Light, Vileth, the use of that weave has been forbidden since the First War. To make such a thing would be to violate all that the Grey Tower once stood for, to violate custom stronger than law!" He was passionate about the response, and he barely noticed that Vileth was shifting uncomfortably. When he did notice, however, he was surprised. It was not like his Sister to show so much agitation. Realization dawned on him, and he spoke coldly, "Tell me you haven't…"
In response, the woman only moved to the corner of her desk and reached up underneath the table. She produced a small black wand and walked over to him with it. Phineas looked from the papers on the desk to the rod. He backed slowly away from Vileth and the accursed thing. "We must dispose of that," he urged her. "If that fell into the wrong hands, the entire Pattern could be destroyed. Don't you see that is what he wants?" It was as he was looking into her eyes, pleading with her, that he realized something was wrong. The Vileth he knew from years of working together was no longer there behind the eyes. Instantly, he reached out for Saidin, but he found himself blocked. That was when he heard the footsteps behind him.
Turning he saw her, Qamir, standing with a coterie of henchmen. She stood tall in her black garments, her face an imperious picture of triumph. "We have you now, Phineas," she said like a queen pronouncing sentence. "You will serve the Dark Lord now," she continued. "You may choose to serve him of your own accord, but one way or another you WILL serve." Those last words were daggers, piercing his heart. Light, what could he do? Inwardly, he frantically thought about what to do—how to escape. He had a ter'angreal in his pocket, one made for such an eventuality. It could be triggered without Saidin, and it would kill him. Better to die than to be taken alive.
"You were so Talented, Qamir," he replied. "You did not need the Shadow to make you great. You stood in the glory of your own accomplishments." He moved around as he talked, making it easier to scan the room with his peripheral vision. His eyes never left Qamir's however. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see a doorway. No one else seemed to notice that it was there, but the light coming from it called to him.
The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.
He turned to Vileth. She had the balefire rod pointed at him, delight in her eyes. "You should do as she says," was her only advice, and he shivered at the rod pointed at him and the look in her eyes that said she would do it. He knew he could not make it to the doorway. He reached for the ter'angreal instead, and that was when his thoughts changed. He turned to face Qamir Doon, and he felt this overwhelming desire to do as she said. Part of his brain screamed that this was wrong, but the majority of him did not care.
"You will not reach for the ter'angreal in your coat pocket," she said calmly, and he nodded in agreement. "You will do as I tell you and come willingly to serve the Dark Lord." Thirteen fades stepped out from the shadows, and thirteen female Dreadlords stood beside them. "Vileth, put that thing down before you kill us all," Qamir added with Phineas firmly in her grasp, and the other Black Sister acquiesced. That voice in Phineas's head, however, took the moment to scream loudly.
You must run. She is Compelling you. Fight her, burn you, and run for the doorway.
The warring instructions in him caused some confusion, and Phineas felt his muscles try to step towards the door. He fell as a result, the pain jarring his mind and clearing it for a brief second. That was all the time he needed, however, to realize the situation. In a flash, he pushed himself off the floor and jumped through the doorway. He felt that desire to serve Qamir vanish as his head crossed the threshold. "Burn you, Phin…" was the last thing he heard, words screamed by Qamir, as he made his way through the flashing light.
Dedicated and Sealed
The momentum of his leap carried Phineas through the final archway. He collided with the Master of Soldiers who was standing in front of the arch, waiting for Phineas's return. The two men looked each other in the eye, and Phineas had to restrain himself from punching the man. The memory of three different scenarios, ones in which he had to face some of the most difficult situations he could hardly imagine. Instead, Phineas rolled away from the Master of Soldiers before taking a proffered hand to help him rise. He noticed that the Master of Soldiers was also being helped to his feet.
When he was standing, Phineas realized that the M'Hael was now in the room. He had not been present earlier, as far as Phineas could tell, but the dark eyes of Jaryd Kosari appeared to know everything that had occurred in this room since the beginning of his test. Suddenly, Phineas realized that it was actually over. He had finished his test, and he had passed. The M'Hael's words rang out in the chamber as he poured the last chalice over Phineas. "You are washed clean of who you were," entoned the man. "You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are now a Dedicated of the Grey Tower." The last little bit dribbled out of the chalice—the last drop falling upon his head as the M'Hael added, "You are sealed to us, now."
Phineas was a sea of conflicting emotions. The hatred, anger, and sadness from his testing was still there. However, he also felt joy at finishing his ceremony, pride in having survived the test, and relieved that it was finally over. The peace he made with the test while he was in the middle of it seemed like a flimsy thing. But it had gotten him to continue through the examination. He would need to find someway to cope with this event. A silver pin was pressed into Phineas's hands, startling him back to the present.
The M'Hael leaned in and kissed Phin's cheek as he said, "Welcome, Son. Welcome." Phineas looked around, the other Asha'man weren't smiling, but he thought he sensed satisfaction among them. His clothing was returned to him, without his blacksmith's apron. He figured his shift in the Forges would be over, now. He also realized that he would no longer need supervision to channel while working at the Forge either. He was Dedicated, which meant new privileges. His thoughts turned to another Dedicated he'd met in the Gardens. Could they become more than mere acquaintances now? Elia had been raised to the Shawl, so they wouldn't interact until he received his second pin, at least not as friends. She would undoubtedly teach some of his classes because she was a member of the Indigo as he aspired to be.
He thought all of this as he dressed. The Asha'man had already left as he did so, leaving the Master of Soldiers behind to lead him away. So many things had changed in this moment, least of all his feelings towards the Tower. He was committed to the Grey Tower, but perhaps not everything need continue as it had for the last few centuries. Or maybe, the experiences forged the links by which the Tower was united. He would have to look at it from all sides, like the blacksmith's puzzles he loved to pull apart. Only then would he see how it all worked.
