Fanfic:Her Rightful Place

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Her Rightful Place
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Opening

For some odd reason, Elia Darrow's lips curled up in delight. With each step up towards the pinnacle of the Grey Tower was confirmation of a belief she had long held. I am to become an Aes Sedai. Doubt didn't even flitter through the beautiful Shienaran's mind, the pride in her heart quelling any such notions of foolishness. Oh, she knew there was a test to come, but she had survived the Arches. That seemed so long ago now, those Arches, that twisted ter'angreal and its horrid visions. Yet her experiences in that device had transformed her into the confident and even bold woman she was now. Malachite orbs focused on the Blue sister ahead of her, another confident and bold woman. Mirin Sedai had guided her towards a path she hadn't known existed until recently. And soon I can follow that path under my own authority.

A pair of doors admitted entrance into a domed chamber of considerable size. The light in the room was dazzlingly bright, and Elia had to narrow her sight to allow her vision to adjust. As she had someone expected, there were eight woman in the room, one of each Ajah. And a ter'angreal. Of course, no-one had informed her of what was in the room, but she had made assumptions. Assumptions that had proven themselves true. She glanced at the still faces of the Aes Sedai with a neutral expression of her own. Some of them recognised, the Keeper of the Chronicles for one, Zae Sedai for another. She let nothing show on that heart-shaped face of hers. Certainly not her eagerness.

"Attend." Mirin's voice reminded the Accepted of her own mother's voice, a commanding resonant tone that brooked little argument. Elia couldn't help the twitch of her lips, knowing soon that she would be Mirin's peer, and not just her favourite student. The Cairheinin's grey eyes turned towards her now. "You came here in ignorance. How would you depart?"

"In knowledge of myself," Elia replied in a voice that mimicked touches of the clipped Cairhienin accent. She knew hubris was getting the better of her, but she couldn't hold it back. Not when I am so close.

If the Mistress of Novices had any reaction to her student's tone, there was no visible reaction. "For what reason have you been summoned here?"

"To be tried."

"For what reason should you be tried?"

The well-rehearsed words came out smoothly. "So that I may learn whether I am worthy."

"For what would you be found worthy?"

"To wear the shawl." That was the end of what Elia Darrow knew. The words had been spoken; the rest was an unknown between herself and her shawl.

The Yellow Step

Thunder rumbled in the dark clouds overhead, and the wind howled as if it was another weapon of the Shadow moving against the world. There was a rotten, sickening stench in the air, that everyone now identified with the Blight. It had been advancing towards this outpost for some months now, for reasons that no-one had determined. But as the sickness and corruption had marched forth, so to did the Trollocs. Dozens of archers were set along the top of the barricade of this outpost, one of a few Grey Tower bastions that watched this part of the Blightborder. Below them were more soldiers, and more channellers from the Tower, but this section was her own. Some ways away was a fellow Yellow, clutching at her shawl. Why the sister had thought to bring it was a foolish thing to worry about at this moment.

Somewhere, out of sight, a horn bellowed. That call was answered by others, and the Shienaran tensed. She recognised the sound. Another attack. She had known it was coming, of course, otherwise she wouldn't be subjecting herself to this nasty weather. Her gaze took in the Shienaran soldiers and the Tower guards, who were so intermingled now it was hard to tell one apart from the other. The topknots were the real giveaway, of course.

Time moved at an crawl. Elia knew by now that the waiting was one of the worse things. Waiting made people wary. Their attention would drift, and even a moment's inattention could mean missing a single arrow in the dark. It was hard to tell how many had died due to the waiting, but there had to be one or two each assault. Standing away from the edge as she was, Elia had no notion of how imminent the attack was. She watched the skies for any sign of Draghkar, saidar enhancing her chances of catching one of the fell beasts against the grey skies.

"Archers, ready!" The commander, or sergeant or whatever, atop the outpost was a fellow Shienaran, although he was from Camron Caan, not Fal Dara. Men raised their bows, arrows in hand. Apparently it didn't do to hold an arrow knocked until close to the time of firing. There was a lot about warfare she didn't understand, which was just as well. Although she was wearing a green woolen dress, she was no Green. They could do all of that fighting, she would do the fixing.

Thunder crashed overhead at much the same time the leader shouted something else, all but a faint sound making it to the Aes Sedai. But then arrows were knocked and being let loose, quickly followed by another volley. She glanced to her fellow Yellow, wondering how she felt in these moments. The moments before they were needed.

As if thought summoned it, black arrows rose over the edge of the barricades, some sailing blissfully overhead, some thunking off the masonry, but a couple-. Elia was already moving to where a man had fallen, one of the Grey Tower guardsmen. An arrow had gone straight into his shoulder, the force of it causing him to stumble back. She wasn't there in time to catch him, although in all of the armour and equipment that may have been a struggle to begin with.

"I have you," she announced as she kneeled over him. "My name is Elia Sedai. What is yours?" Speaking helped to keep them conscious, sometimes. Other times, it was a useful distraction. With a quick twist of Air and Fire, the Aes Sedai snapped the arrow in twain, so that only a half foot of the half protruded from the man's body.

"Ravak, Aes Sedai." He spoke through gritted teeth, the pain evident on his face.

Elia smiled in spite of the situation. "A fine name, Ravak. My brother's name." She rolled him over onto his side, to see how far the arrow had penetrated. It was far enough that pulled it out through the back was an option - that was much better than having to extract an arrow head from inside a person. "Now Ravak, I need to know what your injuries are before-"

"A bloody arrow!" Ravak cried out, the pain getting through any sense of propriety, "A bloody arrow's in me!"

She took his outburst for assent. "Then I am going to Heal you."A well-practice weave of Air and Spirit and Water came together around the man's forehead. This was Delving, not Healing. Whilst the physical injury was self-evident, the depths to which that arrowhead's corruption may have run was the real question. Ravak would not be the first person injured this day, and she couldn't afford to use any more of the Power on Healing than was absolutely needed. Maybe in an ideal world, with an angreal or sa'angreal she could afford to be more flippant, but this was far from an ideal world. The silver filigrees of Spirit that returned from the weave told her what she needed to know; the wound was quite clean, and the corruption had barely touched him. She rubbed her delicate fingers together, trying to memorise the sensation of her dry skin. This is about to get bloody.

Elia offered a smile to the man, although it didn't touch her eyes. "This is going to hurt." She pulled the rest of the arrow out to the sounds of his screams and the sudden rush of blood. Within an instant she began to weave all five elements of the One Power. She was not a powerful channeller by any reckoning, but she knew how to Heal. That was one of her gifts.

The weave came together like it had countless times before, as she settled it into the man's arm. He shuddered, goosebumps prickling across every patch of his skin. Bone and muscle and flesh knitted together, until there was nothing but blood marking where the injury had been. When the shuddering stopped, Ravak grasped at his shoulder in wonder. "Th- thank you, Aes Sedai." She smiled at him, and closed her eyes briefly to settle her mind before the next patient.

Opening her eyes, Elia saw the seven steps ahead of her. The yellow torches to either side winked out, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. There was a feeling of satisfaction, of course, but she was also glad to be away from the Blight, even if she had seen or heard nothing of it aside from a few arrows. She smoothed her hands over her hips, looking to regain her composure. Having some understanding of what the yellow step had tested her against, she stared at the green step for a moment, her mind attempting to work out the possibilities. With a deep but silent exhalation, she moved forward.

The Green Step

Fists balled up in anger, Elia Darrow watched the riders approach. She muttered the dreaded words to herself in a voice of quiet rage. "Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow never to use the One Power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn, in the last defense of my own life, that of my Warder, or that of another Brother or Sister of the Grey Tower." Well, she stood there Warder-less, and brother-less and sister-less. All that lay behind her was a small country estate, Sheldyn. It was happenstance that she was in the area at the time, coming to see Lord Traemane. Now she was caught between his estate and a fearsome group of bandits that had been looting nearby villages and farmsteads. Evidently, they had mustered the gall to strike out against the local lord as well, now.

The Three Oaths bound her tight, feeling like a gauzing that enveloped her entire body. Oh, she had attempted to stretch the limits of the Oaths. There was plenty of flexibility in the first Oath. That saying about not hearing what you think from an Aes Sedai was true. The second Oath really didn't bother her. The tower blacksmiths forged fine enough weapons as it stood. But the third Oath, oh, that did grate on her just then.

Still, there were exceptions. Elia had never been a powerful channeller, although she wasn't so weak to be laughed at either. She could make Air do almost anything, which would be useful in this instance. Stepping back under the awning of the estate, she wove a wall of Air around the main building. If she had an angreal then maybe she could do more. But just by herself, there was a limitation to her abilities. It still took almost everything she had to make the wall tall enough and large enough. It would still be a few minutes before the bandits were close enough to run into it, and it was not a weapon - they would simply be rebuffed. The Green sister simply hoped it gave them enough time for the local militias to arrive. She tied off the weave, unsure of how long it would take to dissipate. Long enough. Light, make it long enough. She sunk backwards into a chair under the awning, watching the dust being kicked up under the horses' hooves. If the wall didn't hold, she could defend herself, but that was all. If they had any smarts, maybe they could sidestep her and bind her with her own Oaths into inaction. She stifled a yawn, but a second followed in quick succession. What she wouldn't have given to have a Warder right about now.

Elia woke up with a start, just to realise she was no longer on some Andorman's estate, but on a step of flashing emerald. She expected herself to yawn again, but instead she stood, wondering what would have happened. She bit down on her lower lip. Fighting the Shadow is one thing, but how can I act against people who aren't Darkfriends. A vexing issue. She gathered her courage. I don't have to go Green. I still have to pass these... six steps? Both of them had involved violence. Was that what the next step entailed too? There was only one way to find out.

The Blue Step

The glass of wine sat untouched in front of the Blue sister, although she had got through the meal easily enough. Not for the first time, she was glad that she was new to the shawl, her features still young and beautiful rather than ageless and beautiful. In clothing more in keeping with her childhood than her sisterhood, Elia watched one of the serving girls in the tavern. The description she had been given from the Mistress of Novices had been very accurate, although at this distance, the Shienaran could feel the spark in the girl. She had to have ran away very early into her training, for her not to have recognised Elia in return.

The plain grey woollen dress was suitable for anyone on the road to Camelyn, but the subtle amounts of jewelry Elia had applied made her out to be a merchant of some worth. She couldn't go completely without the luxuries afford to her by her station as an Aes Sedai, so a wealthy merchant it was. That guaranteed good rooms and good meals.

Elia beckoned the girl over, and she moved along dutifully. Maybe she had been a novice for some time after all. When she was close enough to talk, Elia beckoned her again to sit. "Please, join me." She slid a silver coin across the table in invitation. The straw-haired girl smiled, a touch sullied by mild concern, but she took the coin and a seat. Elia offered her own winning smile. "I do not wish to alarm you, child-" the girl tensed instantly at that "-but your absence had been noted."

The girl pushed back against this table, about to stand, when Elia placed a hand over the girl's. The hand which bore her Great Serpent ring. "Please, I am here to talk with you. If I wanted you back in the Tower this instant, I could have bundled you off in a parcel of Air. Instead, I am talking." Elia released her hold on the girl's hand, settling it back onto her lap. The runaway novice pulled her chair back towards the table.

"You're not taking me back to the Tower, to Mirin Sedai?" Her eyes were wide, fear caught up in that swirl of glassy blue.

"That is not quite what I said, child. I am not going to bundle you back to the Tower. I would quite like it if you did accompany me back to the Tower, and I can assure you a lesser punishment, maybe no punishment at all, if you come willing. However," and this was the heart of the matter, "I want to know why you ran away."

The girl's expression had changed from relieved to fearful into nervousness, all in the space of those sentences. Elia wondered if she had been like that at one point, then cast the notion out of her mind. What mattered was understanding the novice's concerns, and seeing what the best path for her truly was. Clearly, she had wanted to get away from the Grey Tower firmly enough that not only had she attempted to escape, but had succeeded. That took a great deal of courage, or a great deal of fear.

"It was my pa, Aes Sedai." Her voice was soft, and already seemed on the point of breaking. "He has taken ill."

Elia offered a tender smile. "You came back to look after him?" The girl nodded, tears already forming in her pale eyes. "Don't cry child. Here." Elia produced a kerchief, and handed it to the girl. "So you returned here to, what? To support the family by earning coin? Or did you think you could Heal him, or use the Power in some other way?"

The kerchief may have helped with the tears, but not with the voice that was now breaking. "Ta- to Heal him, Aes Sedai. I th-thought I could help make him. Make him." She descended into soft sobbing, her head bowed down. Elia glanced briefly around the room, to see if anyone had noticed, then wrapped an arm over the girl's shoulders. The Shienaran made soft cooing noises to try to settle the novice's mood.

"You acted with your heart, my dear. I cannot fault you on that." She smoothed out the girl's hair, being as motherly as the twenty-five year old knew how to be. "Come, come dear. Do settle yourself." Elia continued to cradle and nurse the girl for a few minutes, until the tears abated, the raw emotions having worked their way out. Those blue eyes were framed in red now.

"Child, I shall come to your home with you, when you are finished here. I have some talent with Healing, and I shall see what I can do for your father, and anyone else who is sick in your family." The girl's face lit up somewhat, although it was still all too red and puffy from the tears. "However, once I have done what I can, you shall have to accompany me back to the Tower." The girl's head dipped, but Elia placed a finger underneath, raising her chin. "It is for your own good, my dear. You have a gift, and in time, you will be able to help more people than just your father. But you need training and guidance." Elia smiled. "You shall not be punished, there is no need to fear about that. And we do not have to leave for a few days left. You can have some more time with your family." That seemed as just a thing as the Shienaran could manage. The girl did need training, but it would be callous to ignore the feelings of such a young child.

The tavern faded, giving way to the domed chamber of light. The blue flames died out, as the green and yellow flames had before it. Three down, five to go. Without hesitation, her slippered feet moved up into the purple step.

The Indigo Step

The Indigo sister moved warily across the farmyard, her green eyes watching the barking dogs somewhat fearfully. They were huge creatures, barking loudly and snapping their jaws. If they weren't tethered, she was certain they'd be on her in an instant. She pulled the travelling cloak around her tightly, using it as much to shield her from the dust that spun around her feet as to cover her beautiful sky blue dress up. Aside from the barking, nothing else stirred as she neared the farmstead's door. She knocked twice, then waiting patiently, the barking subsiding before the door opened. A woman, probably in her mid forties, opened the door. She was shorter than the Shienaran, and looked weather-worn and weary. As well she should, under the circumstances. "My name is Elia Darrow. I believe you have need of my assistance." The Amadician nodded slowly, glancing at the taller woman's hands. With a smile, Elia revealed the Great Serpent ring that she wore on her left ring finger. That was a dangerous thing to have in this part of the world, but it brought some comfort to the woman's face. That made it worth it.

Stepping inside, Elia relieved herself of the dust cloak, brushing some of the worst patches of brown dust from her dress. Even with the marks, she was far more beautiful and turned out than anyone she had encountered for miles. Amadicia was not an inviting place in general. But for channellers, it was infinitely truer. The Aes Sedai followed the woman up some steps to an upstairs bedroom. Underneath the covers was a girl, probably not much older than twelve or thirteen. She looked pale, and sweat beaded her forehead. There was a wash basin and cloth nearby. Without pause, Elia took up the cloth, drained it of water, then placed it over the child's head. "How long as she been like this?"

"Four days now," the girl's mother replied, worry straining her proud voice. "She wasn't like this when I sent off the missive." Elia nodded, but her focus was all on the little girl. She could remember being this age too, and in much the same circumstances. Her brother had come down with a fever that miraculously broke. Then she had come down with something not too dissimilar: cold sweats and paleness, a general weakness and lack of appetite. Touching the Source for the first time had that effect.

Three threads of Air, Spirit and Water came together, as Elia Delved the girl. That told her almost everything she already knew, but with one insightful difference. "Please, don't worry yourself. I know it does not look good, but she will be fine in a day or so." The Shienaran bit down on her lower lip. "It would have been more fortunate if she had still be well. As it is," she turned her attention to the mother, "I cannot depart before the fever breaks, nor can I risk her discovery by going and returning."

The mother knew what was being asked before it had been, nodding empathetically. "Of course. There is another room, you can sleep in there." Worry then returned stronger than ever. "But what then?"

"I would take her to the Grey Tower. You know she cannot stay here, not with the Whitecloaks. It is safer with me, in Hama Valon, where she can learn about her abilities safely." The woman nodded alongside, but still seemed distraught. "You can accompany us, if you desire. There is nothing I can do for you or your farm, if you remain. But your daughter, she will be safe and well looked after."

The Shienaran's words and her warmth seemed to help the woman, but to what degree, she would never know. The Accepted was on the steps again as the indigo flames died. Elia remembered the original reason she had been called to that farm, the odd occurrences and the strange dreams. Did that child exist in the real world, or were these all fictions like the Three Arches had been? Was the girl a Dreamer? I shall never know, if I don't continue. Her brow furrowed, unsure if she wanted to know how real these other worlds were. Brown lay next. Elia breathed out slowly, then moved forwards.

The Brown Step

Sabine pulled three sheets of parchment together, the Saldaean's cursive script all over them, and settle back to read. Elia looked at her fellow Brown with interest, wondering what discovery her sister was attempting to make. They were in the Library, apparently trying to work out something about Portal Stones, but the black-haired woman kept getting distracted for the task at hand.

"What is it?" Elia asked, a bit curtly. Sabine ni Hayadan t'Masin had a very high opinion of herself, more so than even the average Aes Sedai, and Elia's patience had worn thin over these last few days.

"A book is referenced here," she said, speaking into her notes. "The Passages of the Pattern."

"And?" Sabine liked it when her musings were correctly interpreted as orders, but Elia was no mewling Accepted. It also gave her a thrill to challenge the woman. The Saldaean, for some unfathomable reason, liked the subtleties of Daes Dae'mar. The Shienaran's bluntness annoyed her to no end.

Sabine lowered the papers, giving the woman opposite a cold look. "Can you find this book for me?" Elia didn't stir, instead waiting for the penny to drop. "Please, Elia Sedai." Elia nodded, a grin coming on her face as soon as the wall of papers hid Sabine from her. The woman was a newly-raised sister, no touch of the ageless quality that Elia had on her own face, yet she treated everyone like she was the Amyrlin Seat, or as good as. Peace, Elia would have indulged in some Accepted's prank if it knocked Sabine down a peg or two.

The Brown sister made her way to the front of the Library, where a fellow Brown was cataloguing some new acquisitions. Elia smiled at Sarla. The two of them got along almost as well as Elia and Sabine did not. "Sarla?" The Ghealdan turned, her blue eyes taking a moment to find the source of the noise.

"Mm? Oh, Elia. How are your studies with Sabine Sedai going? Well, I hope?"

Elia smiled. Sarla was sweet, but not all that observant. "As well as can be expected," came the non-reply. "Have you heard of The Passages of the Pattern? It has something to do with mirror worlds or Portal Stones, I assume."

"Passages of the Pattern? Mm, it does not ring any bells, but then I'm not an Arafellin." The two women chuckled softly. "Mm, let me think a moment. Can you help with these, whilst I look?" Elia nodded, and took up Sarla's task of cataloguing, whilst the other woman vanished into the bookshelves.

After what had to be half an hour, Sarla returned empty-handed. "If there is a Pattern of the Ages, I cannot find it."

Elia look soured. "The Passage of the-. Wait, what was it? The Passage of the Pattern? I was looking for the Passage of the Pattern, not the Pattern of the Ages."

"Oh, mm, I see." Sarla's eyes took on a glassy look as she thought. Elia had to remind herself that Sarla was sweet, even as frustration at the woman built in her. "Let me look again."

Elia placed her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders. "No Sarla, you have done quite enough. I think I shall have a look now. Maybe I'll have a bit more luck." And I can at least recall the title correctly. She sniffed, just quietly enough that the Ghealdan didn't notice. "I appreciate that you tried to help."

Frustration and Library and Sarla faded, and the beautiful Accepted was back on the steps. The brown flames winked out of existence. Three more. She moved onwards and upwards.

The Grey Step

Elia pinched the bridge of her nose, vexation clear on her face. The letter before her was brief and to the point, and that irked her so. Someone was clearly looking to pass off this foolish affair onto her, but now she had no room for recourse, other than to solve the dilemma. Delicate fingers crumpled up the note, but she left the ball of paper on her desk. There should need to be a response to this.

Moving through the corridors of the Grey Tower in a radiant purple dress, Elia Darrow slowed as she approached her quarry. The two guest chambers lay within the Grey Ajah's section of the Tower, the doors set opposite one another. A man stood outside each, staring daggers at their opposite, although thank the Light neither of the men appeared armed. So caught up in their silent war that neither of them seemed to notice her until she was between them. "I am looking for Lord Paitr." Her voice was a near fasmilie of a Murandian lady's accent. It could ease things if they thought they were dealing with a fellow countryman. The guard to the left opened the door, then returned to the arduous task of glaring.

Lord Paitr didn't quite manage a pleased smile upon the sight of the Aes Sedai, but he did at least rise and offer a bow. "My lady Aes Sedai." His voice was rich and warm, the sounds of someone who talked their way in and out of everything.

"Lord Paitr. I am Elia Sedai of the Grey Ajah." He was no doubt aware of her reason for being here now, if he hadn't before. "I understand you are dissatisfied with these rooms."

"I am not best pleased that I have been quartered opposite that man!" The inviting tone was gone as he made his little outburst. Apparently Lord Paitr did not think Lord Wyrrn worthy of his title, or even a name. He softened his voice as he carried on. "The reason I am here at the Grey Tower, Elia Sedai, is to settle the ongoing claims of land between our two-"

Elia held up a hand, forcing him to stop. "You don't have to make your petition known to me, Lord Paitr. I am here simply to handle this matter of your guest quarters, nothing more." She smiled, but no warmth touched her malachite eyes. Instead, she looked around the room. It was suitably opulent for a Murandian lord, possibly even a touch too opulent for the wealth and status he was accustomed to. "If these quarters are not to your liking, I can arrange to have you moved elsewhere." Intentionally, she avoided looking at him. "Admittedly, these are quite the quarters. I have seen worse in my time." No need to mention that I am not speaking about the Tower's guest quarters. "And I'm sure Lord Wyrrn would appreciate these quarters over the one he is in now." Some trifling victory of the ego, that he has bested Lord Paitr, no doubt. "Yes, I can definitely have you placed somewhere else. Maybe with the Red Ajah." That last was possibly pushing the point a little too much, but everyone was wary of the Reds. That didn't seem to change, regardless if one was speaking of the White Tower or the Grey Tower.

"My lady Sedai, I meant nothing by my comment." Paitr's voice may have been honeyed, but the lie seemed quite obvious to the sister. "These quarters are quite suitable, of course. I was being... discourteous. I meant nothing of it."

Elia smoothed the smile from her face, simply nodding at his words. "Of course." She would have entertained him with honeyed words of her own, if the Three Oaths didn't restrict her from lying. "I shall leave you to it. Good day, Lord Paitr." She glided from the room without a glance back, satisfied that half of her troubles were so easily deal with. Back in the corridor, she simply nodded to the other guard, and he opened the door into Lord Wyrrn's apartments.

She was barely through the door when a rumbling sound emanated from the odious man reclining a couch that was made for three, but could only support a slender form aside from himself. Rotund would have been a kind description of Lord Wyrrn. "This is plainly unacceptable, Aes Sedai. Un-ac-cept-able!" He made a deep harumphing noise as he gestured sharply for her to close the door. With all of the grace she could muster, she closed the door soundlessly.

"What is unacceptable, Lord Wyrrn?" Elia glided into the apartment, standing close enough to the man that he had to raise his many-chinned neck up to look at her.

"I will not be garrisoned opposite such a loathsome fellow as that-" he spat, actually spat! - "Lord Piatr. The Light burn him, he is a stain on everything I stand for."

The Shienaran raised an eyebrow. "You stand?" That was a tart insult, she realised a bit too late. "I mean, what is it that you stand for?"

"What do you think," he harrumphed. When she didn't reply, he grumbled. "He is a foul beast. My family has been defending that piece of dirt for generations, and now he comes to claim it as his own!"

Elia shook her head slightly. "I am not here about your petition, Lord Wyrrn. I am-"

"Then fetch me someone useful," he bellowed. It was clearly loud enough that his voice would have travelled into the corridor, if not through to Lord Paitr's apartments as well. With an effort, Elia smoothed out her features. Some people did not want to be amenable.

Saidar flowed through her, around her, the sweetness of the female half of the Power clearly reminding her who was in charge here. A silver lattice work appeared in the air close to the man, invisible to his eyes, but all so exquisitely beautiful to hers. Pinpricks of Spirit dug into Lord Wyrrn's mind. "Stand." The Murandian teetered back and forth, working up enough momentum in order to stand. When he did stand, it was with a clear effort on his part. "Your apartments, how are they?" Spirit worked into the parts of the brain Elia knew produced truth. "Are you satisfied?"

"Hmm, quite satisfied." Like a manikin, he stood there awaiting her next command.

"And this disagreement between yourself and Lord Paitr. Who does the land actually belong to, in your honest opinion?" More Spirit struck out. If they had both mustered the courage to come to the Grey Tower, to have their disagreement heard by Aes Sedai, that had to be a serious issue indeed. More complex Compulsion was required for an honest answer.

"The lands are mine." There was no fervor in his voice, for once. It sounded quite honest.

"Sit." It took little effort for Lord Wyrrn to return to his previous state. "If there is no issue with your room, you will not waste any more of my sisters' or brothers' time. You shall wait until your appointed meeting to resolve this conflict of interest. Am I clear?" This time he only needed a little prodding to get the desired result. "Good."

The apartments vanished, replaced by the polished silver step under her feet. Warily, she paused, waiting to sense someone embracing saidar to shield her, to haul her away and place her in front of the Hall. Peace, using Compulsion! Here of all places, at all times! She smoothed her skirts, hands trembling, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. She swallowed, hard.

There were two more steps. Just two more. Two small steps, and she would be a sister of the Grey Tower. She closed her eyes and stepped forwards.

The White Step

Ravak paced back and forth along the bedroom floor, his boots intentionally scuffing against the stone floor. He looked drawn and sullen, which was too common an occurrence as of late. He was in pain, she knew, through the beatings he received during training. Although it was a pain of the heart that truly wounded him. Duty was everything to a man. Duty is heavier than a mountain, the saying went. It was as true to her little brother as it was true to any Shienaran soldier. And more than anything, her soft brother wanted to be a soldier.

"Shh," Elia chided in a loud whisper, "I can't hear with you stomping about." He sighed, loudly, then fell back onto his bed. Rolling her eyes, she tried to focus on what her parents were saying on the other side of the door. It was all muffled, but she heard the difference in tone between her mother and her father, and the forcefulness her mother was driving her point home.

"I should go." That came from Ravak, after a few minutes. Elia stepped away from the door to round on him.

"You've said that before. Where would you go? And with what money?" You haven't enough silver for more than a few nights at an inn, and where would a few days take you?"

Ravak's scowl deepened. "I'm no use here. Not to the army. Not to Mother and Father with their quarreling."

"And what about me? What am I to do with you gone?" She sighed, frustrated at him. Did he think nothing about anyone else?

"Come with me." Elia blinked, and he repeated himself. "Come away with me, sis."

Come away with you? She had never considered that. Ravak had to go because, according to him, he wasn't going to make it as a soldier in Fal Dara. Not with the way they were training him. But he had a good heart, a heart of gold no less. If he said he wanted to go away, to train elsewhere, then to return to serve. Well, he meant it. Honesty was as much a part of Ravak as his duty was.

Her voice was soft and tender. "We'll get half as far on the silver. I... I can't see how we would make it to the next city." But she didn't have a good reason to go herself. Why would she leave this life? It was her home and her family. All of her friends. And the boys. Well, maybe there were boys everywhere in the world, but the rest?

But then Ravak would be gone. He was both friend and family. Did that mean more than everyone and everything else combined? Would the void her little, wool-headed brother left make up for everything she had kept by staying, or was it the opposite way around?

"Please don't make me choose. Please don't go! Stay! Just stay here with me." She hadn't realised she was crossing the room under she'd gathered both of his hands in hers. "Please, just stay. Stay." She closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest. "Please."

Hands gripped bundles of white skirts as she opened her eyes once again. The white flames vanished, for a wonder. How I can make a choice between my heart and my head. That was cruel, making her relive that moment from her past. He hadn't stayed, of course. But then, neither had she. Would things have been different, if they had left together? That sounded very much like the sort of musings a White would consider, or a Brown. Well, a White she was not. She couldn't quell her emotions over the coldness of logic; it simply wasn't her.

It isn't me. One step remained. Blood red. Elia remembered her experiences with Kaia Sedai and Ravak, at the docks. That had not gone well... or had it? I am not a Red either. She knew that to be true, the step didn't have to show her anything. It's just one more step. Just one more. Slippered feet moved up the stairs for the last time.

The Red Step

The heat of the Three-fold Land beat down on her, making her skin slick with sweat, her hair matted between her scalp and the cadin'sor. She could have kept the sweat off her skin, but she did not want to. She wanted this experience to be as horrid as possible, so she could ensure that what needed doing would get done.

An Accepted, some woman by the name of Malia, had received news of her family's death last month. Elia didn't know from first-hand accounts, but the woman had got the notion in her head that the Aiel were involved. That was perfectly possible, given her family's proximity to the Dragon Wall, but it wasn't proof. Still, Malia was strong enough with the Power that she could wreak some havoc before she found a spear through her gut. If it was simply a case of seeing the Accepted getting dealt with, the Aiel would be a sufficient tool. But this was about the premise of using the Power as a weapon. The Aiel weren't Shadowspawn, and they hadn't threatened the girl directly, so there was no justification for these actions. Not in the eyes of the Red Ajah, at least.

As night came on, so too did the cold. The extremes between the heat of the midday sun and the frozen chill of evening was more than enough to stop most wetlanders from traversing the Waste, as if the threat of the Aiel wasn't enough. Yet, compared to the cold in Shienar, the night air was positively refreshing. This was what allowed the Red sister to make up ground on the runaway, whilst led her to a fire burning in the midst of nowhere.

Even with the cover of night, the light from the moon and the stars gave a vigilant eye a chance to notice other travellers. But Malia was not so vigilant, nor even awake when Elia got close to the fire light. The woman lay in the sand beside the fire. She looked ill, probably dehydrated. She also wasn't wearing appropriate garb for the Three-fold Land, nor had Elia's knowledge that she'd gleaned off her old Aiel roommate.

Elia paused on the outside of the camp, considering her options. There was no evidence that Malia had carried out her intentions against the Aiel, but then there was no evidence that she hadn't either. On whom did the burden of truth lie? This deep into the Waste, there was only one actionable sentence she could pass. Elia didn't have the resources to keep the both of them alive, nor the time. And she couldn't shield her the entire time on the long walk back. The plan had been to apprehend Malia before she got this deep into the Waste. Now, Elia was the judge, jury and executioner.

Malia jumped awake as a shield of Spirit bisected her connection with the Source, her eyes going wide and fearful as she looked around in horror. Elia crouched as Maidens of the Spear did, opposite the Accepted, hands resting on her knees. "Good morning."

The Accepted scrambled up onto hands and knees, then to her feet. She had a knife in her hands suddenly, a flash of steel in the fire light. With a billowing yell of fury, Malia leaped at her, one hand going for her throat, the dagger aimed at her heart.

Oddly, there was no fear as the Accepted charged. Weaves of Air bundled around the woman, hoisting her backwards into the air, until she was hovering a good seven feet off the ground. Elia rose, removing the shoufa around her head, and pulling up the sleeves. Malia caught a glint of gold on Elia's hand, the Great Serpent ring.

"So," Elia said coldly, "you would just lash out without thought at any Aiel who came close."

"You shielded me!" Malia screamed. "You're still shielding me! Let me go!"

Elia tilted her head to the side in consideration. "I may have shielded you, but you didn't even wait to see whom by. You didn't say a word. And what if you had succeeded? What would your toh be if you had murdered a sister of the Grey Tower?"

Malia stopped trying to shake free of her invisible bonds as that realisation dawned on her. She had attempted to kill an Aes Sedai. Incredulity crossed over her visage. "No, no no. I didn't mean it. I swear, I didn't-"

The Shienaran's response cut through the air like a knife. "I think you did, child. I think you did. And if I hadn't shielded you, you could have succeeded." Elia brought the woman closer to the fire. "If I hadn't shielded you, you could have killed me. I can feel it, your strength in the Power. You would have overwhelmed me with brute force alone. I wonder how many Aiel you could have killed, given half a chance?" The Accepted's face was pale now. She swung her head from side to side as tears ran down her cheeks. "Maybe a score, or two score? What if you had happened upon a small holding? You should have razed it with Fire, or levelled it with Earth. Maybe drawn all of the water out from their well and watched them die of dehydration? And what of the women, and the children, and the blacksmiths? Do they deserve to die too. You could have been the scourge of the Aiel, until they gathered the spears against you. How much Aiel blood would have been on your hands before that moment? How much!?" Elia ended her tirade with a yell, her voice hoarse.

Slowly, she settled back on her knees, placing the shoufa back around her head.

Ending

The heat abated, replaced by the cool, still air of the ter'angreal. Elia's heart sunk. Had she failed? That final trip was for the Red Ajah, and she had chosen a path that was decidedly not Red. Or had she? Either way, that person had scared her. She didn't want that sort of power, or responsibility. No, I Heal people. I don't kill them. That isn't who I am.

The ter'angreal vanished into a white light, and Elia stumbled forward for a few steps before the domed chamber reappeared. The Mistress of Novices stood in the centre of a semicircle of Aes Sedai, the shawls marking out one from each Ajah. "It is done," Mirin intoned, her hands coming together sharply. There was something of pride in her eyes. I have passed. Glee filled Elia, but Mirin was not yet done. "Let no one ever speak of what has passed here. It is for us to share in silence with she who has experienced it. It is done." She clapped again. "It is done!" She clapped a third, final time.

"Who comes here?" That voice came from none of the women present, but from somewhere behind the assembled sisters.

"Elia Darrow."

Still the voice remained unseen. "For what reason do you come?"

"To swear the Three Oaths, and thereby claim the shawl of an Aes Sedai." Glee sparked throughout the Shienaran again. I have done it!

"By what right do you claim this burden?" Elia caught the accent with a sudden realisation. The Amyrlin. It made so much sense.

"By right of having made the passage, submitting myself to the will of the Grey Tower." And I have so much to offer the Tower.

"Then enter if you dare, and bind yourself to the Grey Tower." The Aes Sedai parted, and Miahala Sedai, the Amyrlin Seat, stood as resplendent and regal as ever. Elia approached the Amyrlin at a steady pace, carefully not to let the emotions boiling inside her overflow. Elia glanced at the other figure beside the Amyrlin; Kaia. The Keeper of the Chronicles held a velvet cushion in her hands, a rod upon it. Elia didn't need saidar to recognise the object. It could only be one thing.

Elia dropped to one knee in front of the Amyrlin Seat, who took the Oath Rod in hand. The Accepted spread out her hands, palms upturned, and the Oath Rod was placed within them. A nimbus of glorious light surrounded the Amyrlin, as Spirit was woven into the ter'angreal. "Repeat after me. Under the Light, by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I swear to speak no word that is untrue."

Elia focused on the ter'angreal, breathing deeply before answering. "Under the Light, by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I swear to speak no word that is untrue." Once the words were out, there was a pause. She had expected something to change, or to feel some change to come over her. It was a bit harrowing how there was no indication that she was now sealed to the first Oath.

Miahala continued. "Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow to make no weapon with which one man may kill another." Elia repeated the words precisely, and again paused, waiting for... something. The Amyrlin Seat then spoke the third and final Oath.

Elia repeated it. "Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow never to use the One Power as a weapon, except against Shadowspawn, in the last defense of my own life, that of my Warder, or that of another brother or sister of the Grey Tower." Elia then looked up into the Amyrlin Seat's blue-green eyes, expectant.

"It is done. The Oaths are graven on your bones. You are bound to the Grey Tower." The Amyrlin took the Oath Rod out from Elia's hands, replacing it on the cushion Kaia Sedai held. Then she took the new sister's hands, removing the Great Serpent ring from her left hand, and placing it on her right. For a moment, the ring - the ter'angreal really - seemed glassy and transparent, but then it was solid gold again. "Rise now, Aes Sedai. Choose your Ajah and take your place among us."

As per protocol, Elia kissed the Amyrlin Seat's ring, then rose smoothly to her feet. Eight sisters waited on her to make her decision, a wrapped bundle in each of their hands. Even with the experience of the ceremony behind her, nothing had affected her decision. Confidently, she crossed over to the Indigo sister, and took her rightful place amongst the channellers of the Grey Tower.