Fanfic:Scars on the Soul - Aikaterine's Raising
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Katrie's step was light as she hurried away from the secret study room that only she and Rav knew about. Well, maybe that was stretching it... it wasn't really secret as it was unused. And that suited her just fine. She hadn't wanted to leave, but the omnipresent chiming of bells signaled a fresh round of classes and chores to which neither of them could afford to be late to.
Her lips twitched uncontrollably upwards every now and again, and she was sure that if she allowed her mouth to move, she'd be grinning from ear to ear. She was almost to the Kitchens when a familiar figure stepped out and barred the way forward.
“Mirin Sedai,” Katrie tried not to seem overly familiar with her mentor, keenly aware of the way her pristine Novice whites stood out next to the blue-fringed shawl. That effectively ended any urge she had to smile. She knows about me and Rav! came the panicked thought, but the pretty Cairhienin managed to keep her face clear – best to find out what the Mistress of Novices wanted before volunteering any incriminating information. Especially about herself.
“Aikaterine Riatin,” Mirin began, her tone as solemn as the Novice had ever heard. Light, she knows! She's going to skewe – “It is time.”
Almond shaped dark eyes blinked. Time? Time for what? Penance? She repeated several selective words out loud. “Time for what?”
“Attend, child,” was all Mirin would say. Katrie tried not to bristle at the 'child' but failed. The Aes Sedai began walking, fully expecting the taller Cairhienin to follow by the purposeful way she glanced back at the baffled Novice.
Not knowing what else to do, Katrie obeyed. The familiar halls and corridors soon turned into ones she had never seen before, the gradual awareness coming to her that they were steadily moving downwards. This was definitely not the way to the Mistress of Novices' office. Where were they going? She should pay more attention... maybe she'd stumble across another place that she and Rav could meet and talk. She began peering closely at her surroundings.
It wasn't until she stood in front of two giant doors, one of which Mirin easily opened, that it dawned on the Novice what was happening. She wasn't ready... was she?! Her mind scrambled to put together the years. Five. She had been here five years. But she was a weak channeler – didn't that mean she had longer to go? Butterflies swarmed to life in the pit of her stomach and she honestly couldn't tell if it was excitement she felt, or the urge to throw up. Suddenly, desperately, she wanted to be back in the study room with Rav but the Blue gestured for Katrie to enter first and she could again do nothing but obey.
The domed chamber easily dwarfed the largest room of her papa's estate, but what drew her attention was the strange formation of silver arches, three in total, that seemed to twist her eye. The arches dominated the center of the chamber. The testing ter'angreal. She felt cold. If Mirin noticed the shiver, the Aes Sedai said nothing. Katrie quailed inwardly at the weight of expressionless grey eyes as they fixed on her.
“I will tell you two things which no woman hears until they stand where you do now.” There were other Aes Sedai here in the room, Katrie realized belatedly, her heart beginning to pound. Three of them sat at the base of each Arch. “Once you begin, you must go on till the end. Refuse at any time thereafter and you will be put out of the Tower.”
The desire to flee made her legs twitch, but somehow, she stayed where she stood as if rooted to the spot. The space between the silvery archways... glowed with gentle white light.
“Second. To seek, to strive, is to know danger. Some women have entered, and never come out again. Even when the ter’angreal was allowed to grow quiet, they were not there. And they were never seen again. If you will survive, you must be steadfast. Falter, fail, and...”
Katrie thought she saw a hint of something pass in Mirin's eyes as the Mistress of Novices allowed her voice to trail off. Katrie didn't know when her insides had become as water, only that she was staring at her mentor with a mixture of trepidation and determination written across her face. The pretty Cairhienin was ashen beneath the coppery hue of her skin even as her hands clenched into fists.
They were not there. And they were never seen again.
Light, what if...? She closed her eyes. But... but her mama had passed. Aunt Jae had passed. Even Jaryd had passed. Mirin had passed as well, that proof evident right in front of the Novice. She pushed past the dread in her heart. She would pass. She had to! Katrie jumped as Mirin spoke again.
“This is your last chance. Refuse now and it only counts as the first. You may still try twice more. If you accept now, there is no turning back. It is no shame to refuse. Many Aes Sedai could not face the Arches the first time. Choose.”
Many Aes Sedai. Just how many exactly, Katrie wondered in an oddly detached way. Before she could change her mind and give in to the mindless terror that bubbled just beneath the surface of her thoughts, she grimaced faintly. It took three tries before her mouth would form the words she wanted to say.
“I accept.” It was barely a whisper.
It was probably her imagination, but she thought she saw the faintest hint of pride pass over Mirin's face. “Then ready yourself,” was all the Mistress of Novices said.
Katrie stood still for a moment before realizing she was meant to disrobe. Her nose wrinkled a little but soon her clothing was folded into a neat pile at her feet. She was suddenly glad that she had left Rav's key in her room. She would have to remember to go and get it later. Her thoughts were oddly fuzzy and disconnected. She stepped forward, Mirin next to her.
“Whom do you bring with you, Sister?” Katrie didn't recognize the Aes Sedai that spoke, but the gravity of the other woman's words made her tremble.
“One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance, Sister,” Mirin replied, just as formally.
“Is she ready?”
“She is ready to leave behind what she was, and passing through her fears, gain Acceptance.” My fears...
“Does she know her fears?”
“She has never faced them, but now is willing.”
“Then let her face what she fears.” That was said with nerve-wracking finality.
“The first time is for what was.” The Mistress of Novices intoned. Then Mirin gave Katrie an awkward look, one the Novice recognized as her mentor's attempt to be comforting. Katrie took a shaky breath and nodded once in grateful acknowledgment. “The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”
Katrie squared her shoulders and stepped into the silvery light.
Her attack had started some time before dawn.
Aikaterine found that fitting, seeing that Cairhien had once been called Al'cair'rahienallen, the Hill of the Golden Dawn. Once, Cairhien had been the capital city, the crowning jewel, of mighty Almoren, a sovereignty that rivaled that of any of the Ten Nations. Now... Her lip curled. Now, it was nothing.
She stood proud and unbowed between the elaborate effigies and tombs of her forebears, a far cry from the young frightened creature she had been when the rabble of her family had forced her to leave. Fifteen long years had passed. Her face remained unlined and unspoiled despite the hardships she had endured. She was clad in simple riding attire, the plain homespun of her narrow skirt unadorned and divided. Soon though. Soon. She would reclaim most of what had been taken from her.
Almond shaped eyes were unfocused as Aikaterine turned slowly to take in the enormity of the family mausoleum situated beneath her ancestral home. Others insisted it be called a crypt. She smiled slightly. What did it matter, in the end? It was a building used to keep the dead. Pretty words didn’t change that, even if an inordinate amount of effort had gone into making the area pretty. She couldn't hear what was happening beyond the mausoleum, the thick stone serving as a perfect insulator against the battle waging outside. She didn't remember it looking so... lonely. Reverently, she let her fingertips trace over the cold unmoving faces of her mama and papa, the smooth white marble failing to capture the true breadth of her Domani mama’s beauty.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to return,” she whispered down to them. From the way her voice bounced and echoed off marble, metal, and rock, she may as well have shouted it. The sheer vastness of space distorted her words and Aikaterine felt... guilty, somehow... for interrupting the heavy, cloying silence. She continued speaking though; how else were her parents to know of all that she had done?
“I did it. They couldn’t stop me. I’ll make them pay. I’ll make you both proud.” Unbidden, tears sprang to life in her eyes, Aikaterine surprised that she still had any left to shed. “It's not an army you'd approve of, Papa, but they're banner worthy all the same.” Cutthroats, bandits, disillusioned soldiers, commoners from the Foregate itself, merchants and farmers fallen upon ill fortune... sellswords, they were all hers. They were loyal. Her cheeks soon grew wet and she lost herself as she leaned in heavily against the rounded pedestal engraved with her mama and papa's names.
Be steadfast.
Time passed, Aikaterine kept company by memory and conscience. Fifteen years of coercing, seducing, bribing... murdering... whatever it took. Funny how murdering often went hand in hand with seducing. Men in particular, seemed to think that scantily clad meant less dangerous. She slept soundly, when she felt safe enough to sleep. There were moments of weakness, like this one, but those were easy to deal with. Most of the time, she felt cold and detached... numb. It served her well.
She wasn't surprised when the heavy doors finally opened with the sound of muted thunder, her expectant look rewarded with the sight of Belira. The woman had been a favourite of her mama's.
“It's finished, girl.”
Also the only one Aikaterine let get away with calling her a mere 'girl'. She pushed herself upright, her stomach alight with the tingling excitement of anticipation. “How many?”
“Not as many dead as Marrick predicted.” Belira was wizened and grey, her face reminding Aikaterine of a wrinkled dried apple, but her nursemaid's gaze was still sharp and somehow, despite everything, this tiny little wrinkled woman could still put the fear of the Creator into Aikaterine with a mere look. “But there's more than enough to pay for services rendered. Some of the boys are tallying it all up now.”
“Good. I won't have my people going hungry. They've served well. As for my family... how interesting that most of them surrendered.” The Cairhienin woman threw back her head and laughed, the stone walls amplifying and warping the musical sound. “Take me to them.”
Be steadfast.
“They're being rounded up in the courtyard.” Belira's smile was as mirthless and cold as Aikaterine felt. She had waited fifteen years for this day, longed for it with a fervor that bordered on insanity, but still. She didn't rush the other woman, instead looping her arm with that of her nursemaid's as they made their way forward at a stately pace.
She knew the way. Very little had changed, in the décor, in the layout... in the faces of those defeated that watched her impassively from the rooms they had been herded into. Most of those were servants. Some were not. In their faces, there was fear, and as they watched her, the fear was something that outweighed their disdain and contempt. She felt the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Yes, she rather liked their fear.
She took a quick detour to wash her hands and her face, changing out of her riding clothes and into something much more suitable. Aikaterine wasn't as small or as short as her high-bred cousins, but Belira managed to find a dress that would serve, the long train on a proper Cairhienin noblewoman turning into a fitted hem for Aikaterine. Whomever this had belonged to was plumper than she was, but a belt of spun gold cloth solved the issue of a billowing waistline. Several minutes of searching also produced a necklace of perfect rubies, each stone glistening like blood. Aikaterine found the association powerful, clasping it around her throat with her own two hands.
By the time she reached the outer courtyard, Aikaterine was wearing a full fledged smile that complimented her borrowed attire, her lowered brows giving off the impression of a wolf. Those that shared direct ties to her were huddled together, the towering sculptures of hair and ringlets as ridiculous as the half-shaved powdered foreheads. Sweat speckled skin caught the light from the rising sun. It was barely morning. Did her relatives sleep with their finery and such on?
She circled around them, her steps even and measured. She glanced into each one of their faces, taking note of who glanced away. Aikaterine caught sight of her papa's eldest sister, and her smile turned cruel. The milk-faced harpy who had delighted in tormenting her when she had been a child sadly didn't smile back. Her aunt's favourite pet name for her had been 'half-breed' as if she wasn't even fully human – merely a mongrel to be tolerated. The old hag certainly didn't look smug or superior now. No, the woman looked haggard and frail. That was satisfying in a way that she couldn't explain. She nodded to Belira and they left the courtyard.
“What would you have us do, girl?”
“Kill anyone that says they'll join us today.” Aikaterine's voice was as without emotion as it was without inflection. “They'll be spies, most likely, or traitors that have come up with some way to undermine us, or eliminate me. Or both.”
“Poison, like usual, I take it?”
Belira knew her so well. As the other woman should. Her nursemaid had finished raising her in her mama's stead. “Yes. Broken men and women are far more loyal and useful.” The predatory smile was back on her face. “As for my dear, loving aunt” - Light but she couldn't help but bask in how utterly perfect this all was - “find someone who will cut out her tongue.”
Belira didn't so much as bat an eye. “And then?”
Aikaterine shrugged. “Feed it to her for all I care.”
“Lord Fenton, Creator shelter your lord father in the palm of his hand, would be proud of you.”
The Cairhienin felt a swell of pride, dark eyes thawing slightly. “I hope so. I am finally High Seat of House Riatin –” The way back will come but once. Aikaterine faltered, shaking her head abruptly. Where had that come from? “– like Papa could have been, if he'd lived. The Sun Throne is within grasp, Belira! After all this time!”
Be steadfast.
She frowned as a silver archway appeared behind her smiling nursemaid, dark eyes staring at the unwelcome sight. This... her heartbeat was loud in her ears, rapid and deafening. Whatever veneer it was that kept her from truly feeling anything, froze, encasing her in ice as it pushed away whatever semblance of emotion she had left. Aikaterine felt nothing as she should, only able to acknowledge the biting certainty that she couldn't stay. Another part of her railed against that knowledge. No! This was her victory! She ground her teeth together, her thoughts straying to the Sun Throne. She was close... so very close!
She couldn't stay.
Why?
Be steadfast.
She couldn't stay.
“Forgive me Belira... Papa...” she whispered. She stepped past her nursemaid and into the silvery light.
Disgust roiled in her gut, but it failed to touch her, just as the sensation of ice cold water being poured over her head was unable to shock her away from the pervading numbness that enfolded her. Katrie stared straight ahead, her mind unable to grasp what had just happened.
“You are washed clean of what sin you may have done, and of those against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us washed clean and pure, in heart and soul.”
The pretty Cairhienin would never be clean again. That had been her. That monster in the first arch had been her. She had said all those horrible things; she could remember all the people she had hurt, all the terrible things she had done... she could remember how it made her feel – and it had made her feel good; she had ordered someone's tongue cut out. She squeezed her eyes shut as the icy water burned behind her eyes.
Creator shelter her, she found herself echoing Belira's prayer... there were still two more Arches. But she couldn't stop now. She had to continue on.
And Light save her, but she felt nothing, still curiously numb. Katrie did not resist as Mirin lead her forward.
“The second time is for what is. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”
“Kill him.”
That was spoken so conversationally that Aikaterine wasn't sure she had heard Caelan correctly. “What?” she asked him, a furrow appearing between her brows as she placed the quill that she had been writing with, down. She ignored the drop of ink that dripped down from the sharpened tip, splattering against the vellum.
“I said, 'kill him'.” Her bondmate repeated himself, the words drawled out as he moved his mouth with comic exaggeration. He found her question amusing, the emotion flashing behind her eyes. Caelan closed the book he had been pretending to read, tossing it on to the bed he was lounging on. The long look he gave her was both seductive and nonchalant.
“But...” her voice trailed off and she found that she couldn't make herself say the words. She sighed as she looked down at the ruined line of her otherwise impeccable diagram. “Now look at what you made me do,” she complained with no real heat. Aikaterine made a face and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper to start over again.
Even if her hesitation hadn't shown on her face, her Warder could no doubt feel it flow between them. The man was on his feet and not so much moving towards her as he stalked forward to her. He moved with the same deadly grace that all Gaidin did. His teeth were white and perfect as he smiled at her. Actually, there wasn't an inch of him that wasn't perfect and Aikaterine felt as if she was in a unique position to know; there had been many opportunities to indulge in his perfection. And – if Caelan had anything to say about it – there would be many more. The man was nigh insatiable and proud of it.
“You'll feel better once he's dead.” He let the tip of his finger trace the outline of her lips, every inch the charming – albeit disowned – Tairen lordling.
Aikaterine did not smile back, her look searching. “Do we have permission to kill him?”
Caelan pulled her to her feet. He placed his hands on her hips and laughed, resting his forehead against hers. He was taller than she was, something that he used often to his advantage. “You know we don't need permission for that.”
“I...” she shrugged herself free, glancing away uneasily. “I don't know...”
The look in his hazel eyes grew hard, and his grip tightened possessively. “If you won't, then I will. And I won't make it quick.”
She frowned. “You're jealous.”
“Indeed.” He didn't even bother denying it, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. “I've shared your affection for far too long.” The lines of his face hardened further. “I feel like I should warn you as well, that your hesitation will be seen as weakness.”
Aikaterine opened her mouth, but closed it again at Caelan's knowing look. But she was weak. That was the problem. “He... was my friend.”
“You, my Aes Sedai, are too soft-hearted by far.” A flash of another smile that failed to hide his resentment. “Luckily, you have me. He may have been your friend, but you can bet that the second he finds out that you have sworn yourself to the Great Lord, your vaunted friendship will be a thing of the past. And he will be obligated to kill you. Don't think that he won't. Which is why we - you - need to kill him first. He isn't one of us. Too honourable for that by far. He will never be one of us.”
“I know.” She sighed. Aikaterine knew he was right; of course he was right. But knowing that did nothing to soothe the strange ache in her chest. Caelan's jealousy was like a blistering storm, and she felt it like a squall that raged within the confines her skull.
“It should be done soon, my Aes Sedai,” was all Caelan said, his hands rubbing up her arms before twining together with hers. “But for now, something more pleasant...” The heat in her mind changed, smoldering rather than all consuming. He stepped backwards, tugging her along with him as he guided her back towards the bed. “Very pleasant things, my little Blue.”
Be steadfast.
Her chest spasmed painfully as she forced herself to look up into his eyes. She couldn't think his name, couldn't, or she would be undone. They had met in this very room dozens... no hundreds.. of times. What was she doing? What had she done? Caelan was nearby and she knew that he meant what he had said – if she couldn't do this simple thing then he would. And her Warder would make him suffer.
But her friend was not a fool. He never had been. She could see it in the way he watched her, grief and anger warring together on his face. There were many more emotions... so many more, but she didn't have the presence of mind to name them all. He knew... Great Lord... Light... she didn't even know who to pray to anymore... Someone preserve her, he knew her secret. The slump of his shoulders was almost as difficult to endure as the betrayal that shone out from his eyes. Aikaterine felt herself falter, the knife slipping from suddenly limp hands. It clattered nosily to the floor.
“I can't...” she whispered, shaking her head. She looked around the private study room in dismay, her throat constricting at all of the good memories she had of this place. And she had come here of all places to try and carry out the deed, knowing he would come. She had soiled the memory of this place. She had ruined everything. What had she done? “I can't do it...”
“Katrie...” The way he said her name made her shiver, tears blurring her vision.
“I'm such a fool.” She wiped at her cheeks, unable to express the depth of her stupidity. “I'm sorry.”
“It's not too late.”
She was trembling. “Yes it is.” Caelan was close. Still, she had to do something, warn her friend somehow. He deserved so much more than this, but it was all she could give. “You have to go... get far away... he's going to kill you.”
Her friend never had the chance to answer as the door to the private study room rocked open. Hazel eyes were crazed and Aikaterine sucked in a breath, pulling in the meager amount of saidar that she could hold. It was ironic, really. That very same weakness was what had driven her to swear to the Great Lord in the first place, her Talents for Reading Residues and Stretching Shields earning her far more prominence among the Black than she would have otherwise attained. She hadn't ever understood the cost...
Stupid, stupid girl.
Be steadfast.
The Oaths she had taken prevented her from harming Caelan, but she could tie him up in Air, long enough for her friend to escape. Her bondmate's rage was a fiery knife, his insane jealousy lancing through her like a red hot poker, but Aikaterine did her best to ignore it. Just as she began to weave, a silver archway appeared next to her, so close that she could reach out and touch it. The soft light beckoned to her, even as she gritted her teeth and stared at it. What should she do?
The way back will come but once.
Caelan sensed that something was different, his eyes boring into her. She took a step towards it, indecision paralyzing her. She couldn't just leave... but she had to... She had to go. But she had to save her friend from Caelan. Her gaze went from her friend, to her bondmate, to the arch. Her hesitation was as good as another betrayal, and Caelan's overt disappointment cut deeper than anything she had been prepared for. She dissolved the bond, her vision blurring as warmth trickled down her face, and it took her a moment to realize they were tears. Her mind reeled at the sudden emptiness.
The archway flickered, the soft light pale and pure.
Be steadfast.
“I'm sorry...” she choked out to, not knowing who it was exactly that she was addressing. “I'm so sorry!” she cried as she threw herself through the arch, the sudden sound of desks and tables being toppled over following her through.
Her legs gave out, Katrie sinking to the ground in a heap. The second chalice was upended over her head, the chill water washing away the evidence of hot, sticky tears.
“You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul.”
It hurt to think of who her friend was... Light, she knew... but the shame made it impossible for her to so much as breath his name. She could still see the way blue-grey eyes stared at her in hurt disbelief, accusatory, wild... Betrayed. Katrie ached from head to toe, inside and out. And Caelan... she couldn't even begin to process what that was all about. She had been Black Ajah. Black Ajah!! Her stomach heaved violently, forcing her down onto her hands and knees.
You betrayed both him and Caelan. She heard that spoken in her papa's voice. As well as his patronizing admonishment. Stupid, stupid girl.
She retched again. Nothing came out, thankfully, but she wiped her mouth roughly with the back of her hand all the same. She was shaking, she noted absently, trying to stand on her own. She couldn't. But the Mistress of Novices was there and Katrie leaned on Mirin gratefully for a moment as her mentor helped her to her feet, steadying her.
“There is but one left Aikaterine.” A small grimace that was meant to be a comforting smile. “The third time is for what will be. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”
It was quiet this time of night, the view of Tar Valon from her high window never ceasing to amaze her. The city shone beneath the moonlight, pale and ethereal. Dark eyes drank in the sight, a feeling of peace settling over her. It wouldn't last long, but she would take whatever she could. Her little sigh didn't go unnoticed, the only other occupant of the room glancing over with shrewd emerald green eyes that missed nothing.
“You're troubled.” The velvet contralto rolled over her, and Aikaterine couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of envy.
She shook herself free from the silly adolescent jealousy. “I am, Mother.” The double meaning was not lost on either of them, a private joke shared between actual mother and daughter.
“Daughter.” Kaia Ariasca Riatin, Amyrlin Seat and Flame of Tar Valon smiled in return, the ageless face indulging in an unguarded moment as she regarded her daughter and the Keeper of the Chronicles fondly. How such an arrangement had passed in the Hall was a miracle. The pretty Cairhienin resisted the urge to squirm beneath her mama's steady gaze, a palpable weight dragging down her shoulders. Light, what she would give to be able to emulate that! And then the coppery Domani beauty softened, the petite woman shedding the seven striped stole. Suddenly, perfect stone became a perfect human, her mama gliding over to sit down next to her. “Talk to me, Reen.”
Aikaterine wasn't so quick to discard the mark of her office, long fingers toying with the ends of the narrow Red stole. “I...” she began hesitantly, glancing uncertainly over at her mama. “I just...” She blew out a breath. “I'm being silly.”
“Reen.”
“No, Mama, it's basically nothing –”
“Katrie.” That was said gently, her mama freely using the nickname that Papa absolutely did not approve of.
“Papa hated that nickname,” she said quietly.
Her mama merely snorted, the sound so un-Aes Sedai-like that it made Aikaterine laugh. “He has no say in your life anymore, my darling girl.”
The fingers playing with the narrow red stole stilled and the tall Cairhienin folded her hands into her lap instead. “Sometimes I feel...” She rolled her shoulders back, her look managing to somehow be apologetic even as it skirted the borders of defiant. “You cast a very, very large shadow, Mama.”
The petite Domani said nothing, her face inscrutable.
“And sometimes I feel like there is nothing I can do that will...” Aikaterine's voice grew thin, her throat closing. “That will let me escape it.”
“Always tied to my apron strings, as it were.” Her mama finished softly for her, the perfect curve and angles of the ageless face falling a little.
The Cairhienin kicked herself mentally, hard. She really was a stupid, stupid girl. She hadn't meant to hurt her mama's feelings. “Yes. No! I'm sorry Mama, I shouldn't –”
Her mama ran reverent fingers down the partial length of the narrow red stole looped around Aikaterine's neck. “Don't apologize.” The Cairhienin sat up a little straighter at the command. “This,” a pointed tug on the red ends of cloth, “you earned on your own. I had nothing to do with it. If anything, I would have done my best to keep you away from the position.” Her Domani mama smiled crookedly at the surprised look that came to Aikaterine's face. “You are my only child. How could I bear to put you into such a position of danger and intrigue because of an association to me?”
“You... didn't want me as your Keeper?” the younger Aes Sedai couldn't help but ask incredulously.
“As your mama, no,” came the truthful answer. The shrug that came was pained. “As an Aes Sedai and Amyrlin, yes.” The petite Domani smiled then, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind the delicate shell of Aikaterine's ear, a gesture that was as familiar and as comforting as breathing. “So you see? Despite my best efforts, you rose to your place as Keeper on your own merits.”
That made her feel a little better. No, that was a lie – that made her feel infinitely better. “How did you try to keep me from the position?”
Her mama chuckled. “Nothing terrible or illegal, if that's what you're worried about. I made sure my intentions were known on the matter.” The way that it was said made Aikaterine realized that her mama had very well considered outright sabotage, along with the consequences and ramifications that came along with it. If anyone could have found a way to skirt around the Three Oaths, it was her mama.
“I can do this, Mama.” That was said with absolute certainty.
“I know you can.” Pride swelled in the velvet contralto voice. “You have grown into an exceptional woman and an equally exceptional Aes Sedai.”
Aikaterine felt as if she would burst. This... all she had ever wanted was to be close to her mama, to know that she hadn't been a failure... a disappointment... to know that she was good enough for somebody.
“Now no more of this uncertainty,” her mama said firmly, pulling Aikaterine into a fierce hug. Her mama's small frame belied the strength she had, the taller Aes Sedai unable to do anything in return but hold onto the petite woman. She was enveloped in a cloud of familiar scent that was uniquely her mama, the delicate smell of pretty flowers that somehow clung to each strand of raven hair. She relaxed into it, content and peaceful, turning her face to the side so that she could rest her cheek against the curve of the small shoulder.
From the corner of her eyes, shimmering into existence in the empty space next to her, a silver archway appeared.
The way back comes but once.
No...
Be steadfast.
No!
Be steadfast.
Please, no...
The light that suffused the archway pulsed gently, insistently, Aikaterine thought, as her heart broke into a million little shattered pieces.
Her nostrils flared, her arms tightening around her mama. She couldn't breathe, the anguish in her chest curdling her blood as it slowly spread outward. “This is all I ever wanted,” she whispered, staring blankly into the pure white light. Resting against her mama's shoulder, her face contorted and it was all she could do not to scream.
The way back comes but once.
She sat for a few moments longer, the archway flickering out briefly in a taunting heartbeat before blazing back to life. She had to go through. But she didn't want to go through. She had to.
“I love you, Mama.” That hurt more than anything to say.
“I love you, Katrie.” That hurt more than anything to hear.
With strength born of self-loathing, the tall Cairhienin pushed away, and simply let herself fall sideways off the chair and into the light that she wished would burn her to unfeeling ash.
Katrie didn't remember hitting the floor. She was on her side, curled into a ball, weeping and utterly inconsolable. Pain scalded every fiber of her being, grinding and crushing her heart down into raw pulp. A glimpse of what might have been. A glimpse of what could never be. A glimpse of something she would never have. She could still smell flowers.
She couldn't say how much time passed before she was gently rolled on to her back, steady arms helping her to her knees. Dark eyes stared ahead, dull and flat. She blinked as water once again poured over her face, soaking her hair.
“You are washed clean of Aikaterine Riatin from Cairhien. 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 Aikaterine Riatin, Accepted of the White Tower. You are sealed to us now.”
Katrie blinked as her name was spoken several times. She roused herself enough to recognize that it was the Amyrlin Seat, Miahala Sedai, that towered above her. The pretty Cairhienin kept her lips clamped together. Water was not going to wash anything clean, neither her heart or her soul. But Katrie found that she didn't have the energy to speak. The ritual continued on to its conclusion.
A ring of gold in the shape of a serpent biting its own tail appeared between the Amyrlin's fingers, Katrie suddenly feeling as if she was burning from the inside out as she caught sight of it. The metal was warm as the band slid home onto the third finger of her left hand. She didn't remember lifting it. It fit perfectly.
Katrie felt herself being gently drawn up by the Amyrlin herself. She wobbled unsteadily on her feet, the hand that bore the Great Serpent ring clenching slowly. A soft kiss landed on her cheek. “Welcome, Daughter. Welcome.”
