Fanfic:Reunion (Amora and Daivon)
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A cold, misty wind blew across a form on the craggy shoreline. A man clung desperately to a bastion of rock as he laid face first in the ankle-deep tidewaters. Brine filled his nostrils. His lungs burned. A deep, wrenching cough took over him, and the man convulsed with seawater. Labored breaths escaped his bleeding, cracked lips. Hadn't he been here before? Hadn't he felt the icy grasp of death by sea long ago? Was this a half-forgotten dream? He strained to lift his body enough to throw his weight over onto his back. He ought to be dead. Had he drifted in those currents face down, instead of on his backside, or had he been vomited from the sea unconscious instead of dimly aware, he would have been unable to clear his lungs. Yet by the Light, or the Dark One's luck, he hadn't drowned. Slowly - regrettably - he opened his eyes.
Daivon Sydias Caspian contorted his upper body to the side and gazed over the pre-dawn shoreline on Windbiter's Finger. He counted the waves as they lapped over his body. The chill they brought him was the only incentive to keep his mind even partially focused. As the tide ebbed and flowed, its gentle rhythm massaged his aching flanks. Syd slowly became aware of bruises and aching muscles up and down his ribs. That gentle caress beckoned to him, singing softly of letting go. Just close your eyes. End it. It's over. He ran a hand through his long, wet hair and found watered-down blood streaking his fingers - and then he began to remember.
Years ago, before he made his journey to the Grey Tower, he had awakened here along the same shoreline. That was the beginning of the current chapter in his life. How he had gotten there both then and now were likely similar. He seized saidin and allowed it to fill him as he searched for a clue to illuminate his sudden predicament.
Off in the distance, he could see - or was it feel? - the remnants of a Traveling gateway. It had opened above the sea, the edges not touching or cutting through anything but air. A male had weaved it, but who? Sydias lacked the ability to weave it. Had he been followed?
A bitter chill overcame him. Syd's finely tailored, formal cloak now hung in tattered strips about his shoulders. The watter pulled at the rags. The white kirtle he had on - why had he worn it? When did he acquire it? - now it was dingy and grey. Breathing too deeply made him gag; the fish-smell of the sea clung to him so closely he knew days of bathing wouldn't free him the stench. He could even feel sand lodged in places he wish he couldn't, and it chafed. Badly. Nausea struck, and he crumpled over. With supreme force of will he forgot he had, he refused to vomit and calmed himself. Sydias grabbed at his swimming head and made to crawl further inland. His waterlogged shoes weighed him down, and he lazily fought to kick them off before collapsing once more.
He'd done this before. And like waves, memories began to flood him. He had received a letter from Nathaniel Thornwald...
Twenty-five Years Ago...
Sydias scribbled away in the offices of the First Reasoner. He had finished reviewing a report from one of his personal eyes and ears network. He withdrew a sheet of hot-pressed parchment and a fresh quill. With a quick dip he took note to debrief the informant when the knock came to his door. In brisk succession he glanced up, scowled, covered his work, warded the room, and then wove saidin to allow for his voice to echo through the study and into the antechamber beyond. "Who comes to call?"
"Lord Daivon, it's Grant Parish. I have mail for you, sir."
The Saldaean shook his head. "I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment, Master Parish. Would it be slid under my door?"
"As you wish, Lord Caspian."
An envelope flew beneath the great stone slab. Syd decided to let it lay there a few hours and return to his work. When he had finished with his last few reports, he made his way over to the nearly-forgotten mail.
He broke the seal and unfolded the note; waiting for him inside was a moment of déjà vu. Somehow he felt as though he had been here and read a missive just like this - and then it all returned to him. He had never received a missive via Grant Parish, but there had been a boy who brought him one from the same man. Only it had never really happened. Sydias remembered a possible future from a parallel world he'd visited during his Test in the Three Arches. Nathaniel Thornwald had sent a letter threatening to kill Syd's sister, Noa. Now, here, in this layer of the Pattern, Daivon Sydias Caspian discovered something even more shocking:
Daivon Sydias Caspian Asha'man - The First Reasoner of the Grey Tower.
I write this letter in good faith. I believe I have found something that you seek. The answers will never come from The Turmool, but rather from you... but I did find Master A. If you want more information, you know how to reach me. From the Hall of the Logic Ajah on the tenth day of Adar, one day following the Feast of Nemen.
Walk in the Light, Brother; may the Creator shelter you.
Your Brother in Reasoning,
Nathaniel Thornwald.
Three months after the receipt of the letter...
Sydias sat alone in his offices. He had brooded for days over the decision he did not want to make but needed to. Months ago he'd made his mind, and nothing would have been able to stop him. Papers were sent to those concerned; words were spoken in private and in confidence. The most important words had been carefully scrawled onto parchment and sent to Saphire en'Damier Sedai-
Saphire, my only friend amongst the Green:
I must leave the Tower for a time. I've contacted Mother and Father as well as the other Sitters of my own Ajah, but I felt that you deserved a special missive. After all, I owe you my life. My adventures in the Tower are far from over, but I received a summons that I cannot ignore. Maybe I'm a Light-blinded fool, but I have to find out if this intelligence I received pans out.
I'm seeking retribution for a great wrong done upon my family years ago before I came here. I'm not sure how much you know. Your own mother seems to have her fingers in the pies of every living creature in this world, so if you need to ask her, I would not object.
I am aware that being reborn into this Tower upon finishing my Arches and climbing the Stair should mean I will not follow these fancies, but all of that changed again when my sister arrived in Novice white. She has since gained Acceptance, and she will be in even more danger now. I leave my home to secure her place here. I hope that you understand, and I hope that, even though she aspires to the Blue, you might be able to help her understand why I left. You know me better than any here since Sofina Tamaala Sedai died during the Siege. Light, how I wish she could be here now. I could use her strength...but I digress. Light shelter you, and may I see you again before the final battle.
Daivon Sydias Caspian
First Reasoner of the Grey Tower
With all informed who needed to be, he sat in his chair, fidgeting uncontrollably. He was not acting like an Asha'man , and even less as one who belonged to the White Ajah, but rather as a newly enlisted Soldier wetting his bed-sheets. He no longer had a place here among those he had grown to call friends. Now, he awaited a knock on his door. Tonight was supposed to be the night...
THUD THUD THUD
Speak of the Dark One, and he shall come a-calling. Sydias stood up and made his way to the door himself. Under other circumstances, he would have had a secretary at the door to let others in - that, or he'd call out to have the person enter. Tonight was different. This person demanded the dignity and respect that he himself deserved.
As he opened the door, a woman in a white shawl entered the room. "Good evening, Gertrude Sedai. Thank you for coming. I trust your journey here was not too rough?"
"I'm uncertain why a man of your stature would not be capable of offering a Gatekeeper to open a Gateway."
Sydias kept a civil tongue, something he only occasionally managed to do well. "A man of my stature could have provided one, certainly. However, I think under the circumstances you would agree that this conversation demanded absolute secrecy." It also gave Syd time to wrap up loose ends. He took her coat and hung it, then offered her a seat.
"So why did the illustrious First Reasoner summon me here in secrecy?"
"I need you here."
"I was doing important work that you yourself assigned."
"Not just at the Tower. Here. Behind this desk."
"You are stepping down?"
"For a time. As such, I made all of the necessary arrangements. Should it become permanent, you have my blessing as well as Mother's and Father's. The rest of the Ajah will soon follow, I should think."
Now
Daivon Sydias Caspian lurched upright, but the effort to stand nearly cost him precious moments of consciousness. He crashed upon his knees with a splash. He would have to pull himself to dry land. Foggy breath escaped his mouth, betraying his core temperature. Syd counted his blessings that his blood still pumped warmth in his veins.
Dragging himself out of the high-tide barrier proved more than difficult, but he managed the climb before buckling under the effort. He lapsed to the sparse grass and grainy coast, dry sand mixing with the seaweed in his hair and layering his sopping garments. Soon he slipped into unconsciousness on this, the rockiest shore of the Shadow Coast.
Syd found himself back at the Grey Tower, but he knew instantly that this couldn't be real. The dim glow of a non-existing light shone from everywhere and nowhere; the utter emptiness save for the occasional person who accidentally flickered in and out of the reality gave it all away... Sydias had found his way to Tel'aran'rhiod - the World of Dreams.
As he stumbled through the streets of Hama Valon, the place he once called home, he took notice of some changes. But I've been gone mere months! Light, but there is no way that the city has changed this much! He rounded another corner, knowing he had no business coming back here just yet, but some feeling lodged deep inside urged him not leave. He couldn't place it, but he knew if he only crossed one more courtyard, rounded another juncture, and hung to the left side, he'd find what he was meant to this night. Every trip into the World of Dreams had a purpose so long as you were aware you were there and not just skimming in and out like a rock thrown over the water's surface.
He ducked into a side alley - the one closest to the Band of Brothers Inn - and he found a puddle upon the ground. His own aged reflection startled him. The Three Oaths had a funny way of slowing age, but one who knew what to look for could always see the difference that a handful of years could add. His hair was as unkempt - dirtied with sand and seaweed and still slick with salt-water - so it was in the waking world. His head ached, and he felt the dream world spinning around his ears. He couldn't focus his control on changing his appearance here in the Dream, which summoned the nausea, so he conceded to it instead.
His hair did nothing to betray his age. What took Syd's breath away was recognizing his own eyes; it felt like only days ago he had seen a deep sapphire-blue hue in a mirror he used for trimming his goatee. Here, his eyes were a softer blue, nearing grey. The facial hair also changed - where once raven-black to match his head, now grey threaded through, adding a salt-and-peppered look to his face. How long has it been? How much have I lost this time?
He spent so long gazing at his likeness that he didn't notice the other presence now in this alley...
"You do be late, dearest. Very late. I did wait for you many these days past." it was the voice of a gregarious woman, and she was irritated with him. Yet as she drew in to the light her expression shifted from annoyance to grave concern. She was plump, boisterous, and more expressive than an Aes Sedai by rights ought to be. Her long umber hair was braided over one shoulder of a long-sleeved gown of grape slashed with white. She had a curious air about her, as if used to dreaming and tinkering, but her brows furrowed with concern. "Fortune prick me, what did happen to you?!"
Sydias's entire world crumbled around him. He felt as if his eyes must have popped out of his head. "Sofina Sedai? Light sear my eyes, but you are dead!" But something told him that was wrong almost as soon as he had said the words. It wasn't a lie, just a temporary loss of a memory. "No, not dead. Not really. How...?" He clutched at his head with both hands Whole sections of his past were gone, and he wasn't sure how many he had lost. "I do not know what happened. I woke up like this." A rush of vertigo nearly sent him to the ground again, but he clung at the nearest thing for stability - Sofina's left shoulder. He steadied himself, realized what he had done, and quickly apologized like an untoward Soldier due penance. But she held it there with one warm hand.
With the other, she ran her fingers through his stringy mop of hair in a most familiar fashion. He sensed her channeling, but not the effect. When she untangled her hands, they were red with his blood. She frowned and her hand was clean again. "You do have a larger hole in your head than normal; did the wool tumble out?" she mused with familiar humor, a slight reprieve from her anxiety, "Would you be accepting Healing, my dear?" her soft hazel eyes welcomed him into them, as if she didn't seem to expect him to deny her.
Again, she surprised Sydias. She's calling me my dear now? What all have I missed? He nodded, submitting to Sofina and her Healing Talent.
He welcomed the shorter woman's touch; this time cradling his head in both her hands. He was plunged back into the frigid sea as waves of ice rippled through him, leaving him shivering. But then it was over and he could feel the warmth in his fingertips again. One of her hands steadied him by the shoulder and the other clasped the back of his head, as if checking that he was whole again. "I am no so skilled with Healing as some do be, but I think the hole do be patched. You should be seeing the First Weaver though, this do no be the first time your head did suffer a blow..." she trailed off with her thoughts, "...where are you? And why did you leave me waiting with no word?!"
"Sofina Sedai... is there some place safe we can talk? I - I am afraid to talk here. There are always so many in this city - even in this version of our world." He felt much better, but so very tired. He knew that after being Healed, he ought to rest in and gain the full effects of her Healing, but now was neither the time nor place. He still wasn't entirely sure of himself, but he felt completely out of character in his current state of appearance. Especially before her. He held an image in his mind as he turned toward the puddle once more -
- And saw a much better dressed version of himself staring back from the pool of water. He'd settled on an all-black standard Soldier attire, yet he had added both pins upon his collar to mark his true rank. He also donned a white cord upon his lapel for his Ajah and a white sash running from right shoulder to left hip. Upon it, a few pins of service he had earned in his time at the Grey Tower. Sure, it was proud and decedent, but he felt a need to look prim and proper for his first visit to the Tower in several mo- no. Years. He didn't know how, but he realized he'd been absent several years.
Once, when he had been a mere Soldier in the Seanchan Siege, he and Sofina had been sent to scout the enemy in Tel'aran'rhiod. He'd been lost and in danger, and she had pulled him by the ear - literally - to safety and out of the line of fire. This time she clasped his hand. He only just realized she'd created her own Indigo fringed shawl to drape around her shoulders to match his formality when they flickered.
Need.
The light came from unearthly orbs that hovered above torches in place of fire. They dotted the unfinished walls of the familiar black stone of the Mountains of Mist. There were no windows, not even a door, save for one hinted at by a seam in the wall. Only that wall was smoothed and layered in bricks by mortar, it seemed much like the barricade that enclosed the Tower Grounds. By deduction, he knew this meant they were below and on the other side of it nestled in the mountain. The air was moist and cold and smelled of mildew. Very little changed in the room: a stool that could swivel in the center, curtains, pillows, a few unlit braziers; but more often than not it all was rotted and rusted away. At times there were stasis boxes, but they went too with time. Was this a storeroom? The lush fabric suggested otherwise, and so did a triangular artifact seated on a side table. It played music, soft and sultry and rhythmic. Then it too was absent, though the music lingered like an unearthly echo of a carefree time past.
Sydias stood still where he had arrived after flickering. He took in the surroundings, and certain aspects of the room and its many uses dawned on him. He prepared to say something about it, but his mentor beat him to it.
She recognized it for what it was, which was apparently more than rumor. "No one has used the sa'sara room for a hundred years, few even remember it or bother themselves to read the diagrams. They all use the Loft now." Sofina Sedai paused to take in the room, and all that had crumbled or disappeared was righted again. It was as warm and luxurious now as any Domani temptress' bedchamber. And steady. When had Sofina learned to do that? The Seanchan tents they'd scouted in the Siege had rapidly changed around them despite their best efforts. "She who would remember must no care to even think about it, and so almost no one would think to look here." Sofina realized. "Yet I heard - no sound does escape these walls. We can talk." she finished, seating herself on a stasis box, that shockingly, didn't vanish under her like all the others had. Sofina's presence was more consistent than Sydias ever remembered in Tel'aran'rhiod; he'd even dare to say she was radiant. Without doubt, it was the Dream where she thrived.
Light, did my personal feelings for this woman work against her Need? What are we doi- - oh. He blushed as he thought of the things this room was made for and what thoughts had run through his head about Sofina. He had always admired her, but he had never made an attempt to make those affectionate feelings known back then. Not that he could; Sofina had been Aes Sedai before he'd ever come to the Tower and taken the black. Now...he still had so many questions, and the puzzlement must have been written across his face.
Patiently, and not without affection, she explained: "Do try to remember this time, dear. 'Sofina Tamaala Sedai' was dead to the Tower, but no in flesh; I was exiled after the Siege, for a reason I can no say." she held up a hand, though Syd never moved to question. "I would tell you anything else, dearest, but on this do no press me." and then she let her hands fold into her lap. "I did return from 'death' ten years after the Siege, seven years after you left the Tower. I was allowed to find you in your dreams then..." she smiled as if remembering something pleasant. "...and we did meet in Tel'aran'rhiod these past fifteen years since." The next part seemed less practiced, more as if she were sharing recent events. "After my return, my waking body did live in Whitebridge under the en'Damier House where I enjoyed working with Sister Liana and Brothers Aric and Lembirt. Now, we and many others have gone home. The dowager Amyrlin, the Matriarch, does say the Wheel do be weaving us together one final time: for Tarmon Gaidon."
Something in Sofina's explanation caught Sydias off guard. "Amora Sedai is no longer the Amyrlin Seat? She left the Tower?" Only then did it dawn on him: and we have been meeting in Tel'aran'rhiod these past fifteen years since... "Light! I've lost so much!"
"Yes." her brow creased, "The Ninth Amyrlin Seat, Amora en'Damier Sedai, stepped down no long after Lord Sigmund von Danzig Gaidin, Master of Spies, rode into the Blight. She did remain seated for two years in his absence, but could no bear it any longer, and retired to her first seat of power. That was thirteen years ago." she tiled her head, "What do you last remember, Sydias?" Sofina seemed to be holding herself in check, as if unsure whether the endearments she had, and would have used with him, were still welcome. "...I have missed you." she confessed after some deliberation.
Sydias took a deep breath. Apparently, he had missed much and more. He wanted so desperately to recall those last fifteen years. Had there been confessions? Had she returned his affections? Her last statement made his hopes - and his fears - official. "Sofina, I missed you too. Granted, I woke up and thought you dead. But I spent every day after the Siege regretting that I did not get to spend more time with you. Not only were you a wonderful teacher, but I had hoped that one day you'd become a great friend. And I hope that I am not stepping over my boundaries here, but I had secretly always found you attractive."
Sofina had been holding her breath and released it now. She smiled a little, and glanced away to the safety of an orb-light. Yet a blush warmed her complexion and she remained silent.
He paused a moment before he continued. "I do believe I owe you an answer though. I am not entirely sure what I last remember. Things are already coming together in fragments. I remember leaving the Grey Tower and setting off toward Arad Doman, the last known location of one of my fellow White Brothers. I had made it to an Inn there...the name is escaping me at the moment." he paused again. "The Fishmudder? The Muddy Silverpike? Fish and mud were a theme, I think." He blushed again, this time by the uncertainty of his own memory. "I remembered three months past taking my leave of the Grey Tower...except I have pieces that don't fit that timeline. Like somehow, even after thinking you were dead, part of me knew that you had lived!"
He approached her. "Do you mind if I sit down here beside you?" He gestured to a portion of her own seat that lay bare, and he took her hands in his. It felt family, and he visibly shivered with excitement. That earned him her warm smile. "How many years have I lost, in all?"
Sofina had visibly relaxed and shifted on the box to sit half-astride and face him. "Twenty-five in all, I do think, save the fleeting memories you do be remembering." she said softly, careful that he might ease into this. Sofina was loath to push him into feel as affectionate with her as she felt with him, or to expect anything at all, but every sign of his recovery comforted her that, one day, they might one day be as close as they had been. "I remember when I did first appear in your dream, dearest. You did think you imagined me, and I was swept into your fantasy..." her flush spread. "You did flatter me..."
Now it was time for Sydias' blush to deepen. His face nearly matched some of the carpeted area in the room. He felt so old in his own flesh when he realized how much time he had lost. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms, to kiss her passionately, but he was unsure how she would take it. Would she think he was only acting out of stress and a need for relief? Would she think he'd be trying to appease her? Or satisfy his guilt for not remembering their time together? Blood and ashes, I don't care! He pulled her face gently to his and allowed their bodies to intertwine into a deep kiss. When he pulled away, he smiled abashedly. And his lovely sighed.
He hated spoiling the moment, but if there was ever a hope of seeing her again, with his own true eyes, he had to tell her before something separated them again. She was his life-line. His one chance. "I'm on Windbiter's Finger. I nearly drowned, and I felt traces of a Gateway woven by a male channeler. What was my last correspondence with you?"
Sofina absently ran her fingers through his hair as she spoke; it soothed him. "You did tell me of a year in the Arad Doman before traveling to Saldaea to finish business with Houses Caspian and Nyskovos. Then you did reside in Ghealdan for five years in the chaos, sifting through rumors. We met in the Dream again, I did have last word from you out of the Tumool and the Waste, but you did no tell me your destination." Maybe it had been to protect her. Sydias had to admit, he'd never clearly stated his intentions when he had his mind set on walking into danger. "You did worry over Nathaniel Thornwald's allegiance, but I do no know more of him." Clearly she hadn't expected him to forget so much; indeed. He had promised to meet her in Tel'aran'rhiod in the ally outside the Band of Brothers three nights past, and when he hadn't come at the agreed time, she'd worried they would never meet again. She'd nursed her hope, and told him so now. "I did no see you waking all these years, yet almost every night we did meet in the Dream. That was, until you did leave on this, your last journey." Her hand stopped and grasped the fabric of his suit in fists as if unsure he'd vanish again. Yet even the wool seemed more real where she touched it. "I kept my promise. I did no seek you out in the waking world. No did I write. No one does know for sure whether you still breathe, but me; no, no even her."
Noa! What happened to his sister? Or was there some other woman that Sofina referred to? Saphire? Visela? Amora? Light! She could mean anybody!
Sofina's visage flickered. She released him and glanced up, and away. "She do be waking me..."
There was so much more that Sydias wanted to talk about, but she was already growing less substantial in his arms, fading away like an apparition. "I understand. Please, find me. I... I love you. I think I always have."
But she was gone before the words left his lips. He could still taste her on his, so he knew she had been real. Watching her fade like that reminded him of how she had disappeared so many years ago from his life - and now apparently I have returned the favor. Light, but where did I go? Why did I leave her worried so? He was so busy fretting over having hurt her that he nearly missed something. She flickered out of the Dream as he confessed his feelings. Did she hear? Were those feelings returned? Would she box his ears for waiting too long to tell her? And suddenly, Sydias felt a cold splash. He was beckoned back to reality as well...
Sydias awoke once more by the sea. He still wore the tattered remains, drenched in icy water; sand still filled places it ought never fill. His skull felt mended and whole again in thanks to her touch, but he desperately hoped that Sofina had heard his final words to her. Either way, the Grey Tower was a long way off, and he had miles to go before he could sleep - and miles to go before he could sleep.
