The Wheel of Time: The Throne of the Dragon [IC]

[Highland Sniper]

dead thread
The wheel weaves as the wheel wills.
as it turns Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend.
Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again,
In one Age, called the fourth age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past...

Jin walked on his way to Cairhen along the Alguenya road, rifle strap hanging on his shoulder and his bag on his back, the cool breeze ruffled his warm clothes.
he took a deep breath of this lovely fresh air as he walked. he should be reaching another town by nightfall, and it was gonna be great...

[P.K.]

Siofra ruffled her black hair with her fingers as she stared into the mirror, adjusting her new Shawl as she stared into her own golden eyes. Her thoughts went over the past few years and the hell she'd gone through to get here. But truth be told she wasn't sure if it was a worse kind of hell then before or just a different kind. And hell it had been. Training as a novice had been like being trained by her mother all over again which seamed to bring her rebellious side back out. it was still a thorn in her paw every time she thought about it, she didn't think it ever go away. But somehow, despite one attempt to leave under her belt and several times butting heads with the mistress she'd managed to become an accepted with Senay, she supposed she had her mother to thank for something after all, what a bitter thought.

And poor Senay, she took to every order like her life depended on it. But after piecing together what had happened to the poor women, She wasn't sure she could blame her. She had taken to the studies with much interest though, if hesitation as if she feared being reprimanded for learning it. The poor women didn't even know how to read when they met but ever since Siofra had taught her the basics she'd read every book she could get her trembling little hands on, it gotten her in trouble more then once as a accepted.

She'd been so sure Senay would go for brown due to her love for books, but she was surprised when she chose yellow. But now that she thought of it... she was so gentle that maybe it wasn't such a surprise. She glanced at her own green shawl and smiled faintly. Green had always been her favorite color but that wasn't the only reason that she'd chosen it. Being battle ready seemed the best path to go, the most free. And after the hell of being white clad she was ready to be free. She pushed herself up from her chair and exited her room. How spacious it was compared to her two previous quarters, it was still rather cramped for her but how nice it must be for Senay who always seemed so reluctant to enter into her own tiny room . Making her way down the hall she was determined to go into the city today, this dress simply would not do, long term anyway. britches were the way to go and she was determined to get some.

Her thoughts drifted to the future, now that she had completed this and was finely able to leave on a whim what would she do now? Anything, anything at all! the white tower was only a fraction of what was out there, maybe she wanted to see the ocean! or learn how to use one of those fire arms she'd heard about! She was free to go wherever she wanted, and hell if she was going to be held down again like she was here. But had it been worth it? Yes. Much had been taught to her at home, and through that she'd been able to survive here and move forward even if she wasn't potently a strong channeler like Senay. But she had learned how to channle wisely and according to the mistress that made all the difference.

She finely reached the lowest level of the tower, who thought of such a thing? So many steps, so little space! Maybe she was just a little stir crazy after living with the wolves for a little while and never being cramped to being stuffed into one small room after another she just needed to be out in the fresh air, for a while, maybe she wouldn't come back. What a wild thought. Maybe that was another good thing that the tower had given her, a firm grasp on her humanity, there were times she was sure she would have lost herself from the beast with in but something here had grounded her, maybe it was Senay or maybe it was something else.

The fresh air hit her making her stop in her tracks as she took in a long deep breath. Ventures into the city were one thing as an accepted but she longed for the open fields where no walls blocked her path. The air was fresh and full of different scents, alive and vibrant unlike the stale air in the tower. She closed her eyes as she stood at the edge of the courtyard taking it all in remembering the nights where she could dream of running. That was the funny thing about the dream world, while she'd learned much from the women here these past few years she'd also learned much from the wolves. Her dreams where real. She'd never told anyone about her dreams, about her past with a pack of wolves, about her sense of smell and taste. As much as she hated her parents, that look of dread in their eyes when they looked upon her in that moment made her silent. So she said nothing.

She opened her eyes, the wind brought her a new scent, perhaps not so new she'd caught it once before maybe twice in passing but she'd never found the owner or was never allowed to peruse it to find the owner, perhaps she'd caught glimpses of him? It was hard to say but it was a male scent. Today, she had no obligations, no chores, no study, no one to answer to. She could allow her curiosity to lead the way and answer to no one for it. She was once again free to do whatever she wanted. A mischievous grin spread across her face. She might be bound by three oaths but this violated none of them.

~~~

Senay looked at her red puffy eyes in the mirror, breathing slowly as she tried to collect herself, as a true Aies Sedai would. their distractions had truly fed off her fears but somehow, just somehow she'd managed to keep herself together. She'd spent her last night as an accepted crying, Siofra's comfort had been of great help. And today would be her first day as a full sister.

She adjusted her shawl around her small body, gazing at herself in the mirror pushing away the intrusive thoughts and habits that still tried to bind her to this day. Perhaps she'd never truly get ride of them. She brushed her hair aside before gently rubbing at her eyes once more. Finely she turned from the mirror and gazed at the room. Where as before she'd had such a small room and resembled the dark place from where she'd come this place was spacious and bright and much more comfortable.

A part of her still believed that this was to much, and she didn't deserve it. She took in a shaky breath and glanced at the door nervously. Should she go out? She knew that her friend might have already left the tower grounds, she'd been grumbling about getting britches ever since they had met, and swore up and down it was the first thing she was going to get once she was able. Now would be the day.

Trembling she got up, picking up not one but two books and holding them close, like they might just give her comfort as she quietly left her room and beginning to head down to the court yard below.

[Highland Sniper]

Jin was still walking along the road when the sound of horses and a wagon came up from behind and he hurried to the side of the road to let them pass.

The wagon got a short ways in front in front of him before stopping. A man with a straw hat popped his head around the wagon's cover, his bearded face seeming a slight grin.
"Where're you bound?" He asked.

"Carhian. But I was gonna stop by a small town on the way there." Jin said.

The man seemed to think for a bit.
"You know how to use that thing?" He asked, pointing at the gun.

"I made it." Was his reply.

"Then hop on." The man said. "I could use an extra hand."

This felt right enough, so Jin ran over and hopped on.
"Thanks." He said as he climbed into the seat and couldn't help but look in the back to see crates and barrels and sacks. "Business going well?"

"Well enough to make it worth while." He said, whipping the reigns to get the wagon going again. "Just need to be careful of bandits."

"Why don't you have a merchant's guard then?" Jin asked, taking his rifle from off his back.

"Do I look rich to you?" The man asked. "What do you think I'm making the run for?"

"Fair enough." He said as they rolled forward. "So, where are you headed, if I may ask?"

"Shienar. But I have to make a few stops along the way." He said. "They love their tabac, but they have more needs than to sooth their nerves. I'll be picking up more supplies in Carhian on the way."

"I might just come with you if we can stay a night or two in Carhian." Jin said. "You did say you needed an extra hand."

"Fair enough." He said. "But we leave when I say so. Your riding with me, and this is my wagon, and I won't put up with any foolishness."

"Hey, no problem." Jin said. And then a thought came to him. "Uh, you said you got some tabac, right? Where did you get it from?"

"Manetheren." The man said.

"Figures." Jin said. "We've been growing good tabac for generations."

"You sayin' that you hail from Manetheren?" The man asked.

"Yup. Some of the most rock stubborn people around." He said. "That's how we live. Stubborn and unyielding."

"So they say, so they say." The man said.

They rode in silence for a while, the man drove and Jin leaned back with the rifle in his lap. The cool breeze ruffling his hair.

"What did you say your name was?" The man finally asked.

"Jin." He said. "Jin Al'Vizear of the Two Rivers of Manetheren. What about you? What name do you go by?"

"John Gregory Hampton." He said, reaching to shake his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Jin took it. "Same to you." He said.

"Well. The questions begs to be asked." The man said. "But what brings you out here anyhow?"

"Living. I've always wanted to see the world and wander around." He said. "I've been a few places, just not everywhere just yet. I've had a few adventures in the while."

"S'that so." He said. "Ever had to use that thing?"

Jin snorted. "More than once. It's gotten me out of and into a few scrapes." He said. "Sadly, one doesn't do what 3 or 4 can. I've already been shot at more times than I care to count."

"So you think your an adventurer, eh?" The man asked.

"Might as well be with everything I've gone through." Jin said. "When are we teaching town anyhow?"

"We should be reaching the next town by noonday." He said. "So It'll be a while yet. So keep your eyes peeled."

"Alright." And from then on he kept a wary eye out for any trouble.

~~~

Fiava was walking back from the town with one of her warders when she saw Siofra as she seemed to be a woman on a mission.
“Hey, Siofra!” She called as she finally noticed the shawl. “Where you just raised? Oh, I missed it.”
She stepped closer so they didn’t have to call across the courtyard to chat.

Fiava as a nice enough woman who was raised to full sisterhood in the green ajah just after Siofra became a novice.
She was tall compared to Siofra, her face already seeming to have taken on that ageless look all Aies Seddai had, her long, light brown hair in a braid down her back almost reaching her waist, her soft green eyes almost looked red with the light hitting them as it was as she wore her lovely green dress.

Thailmon stood only right behind her, his dark hair cut short, his brown eyes almost looking like stone along the rest of his face that, despite it’s hard lines, seemed to be stuck in a half smile. His greatsword was strapped to his back while he wore his plain clothes.
But none of her other warders were there. It seemed that out of all the green sisters, Fiava was the one that gave her warders the most freedom.

[StormWolf]

The tower grounds, expansive and serene, always milled with spacious activity. Novices and Accepted milled about their daily tasks, and as always, the warders drilled. On this day, the latter was the cause of some commotion. A din arose with a crowd around one of the sand pits used for sparring, but not loud enough to drown the sound of the melee within.

Poised like a prowling lion, Cahallan stood in the center of the ring with his quarterstaff raised high in Arc of the Moon. Five other warders joined him in the circle, four of their number similarly armed, while the unfortunate fifth had just been disarmed.

"Blood and ashes, stop trying to hit him and hit him!" One of the veteran instructors barked, making a sharp shooing motion as if to brush them closer. The disarmed combatant was given another stave from the ring of onlookers. Joining the rest in the circle around Cahallan, they attacked.

The quarterstaves whistled as it tore through the air. Thwack-thwack-thwack...

A sound like howling wind and clapping thunder in the small space, cramped and sweltering. Cahallan could feel the force of parries and blows reverberate through the corded muscles of his arms, stinging in his calloused grip as he danced between his opponents. Winding, binding, striking. Inhuman senses and primal instinct gave Cahallan a definitive edge, but even so, he felt the sting of a blow sneak through his guard. Though mostly grazes, they bloomed in angry red welts on his bared torso. The coppery tang of blood burst on his tongue as he smashed his head into another combatant, laying them flat to be dragged away by the onlookers.

Gripped by focus, his eyes wide and intense - unblinking - the seconds dragged on to what felt like hours. Transitioning through his stances with the fluidity and efficiency only hard discipline can achieve, Cahallan pressed his advantage. One by one, the Cahallan put his opponents to the dirt with a decisive and merciless blow. The last among them, a young Andoran lad, was sent reeling by a blow to the face so hard, one of his boots careened off. No sooner as he hit the ground, he was on his way back up only to find Cahallan’s bloodied snarl as he lunged for the throat.

“That’s enough!” Barked a grizzled voice from outside the ring of sand. Cahallan obeyed in an instant, the tip of the quarterstaff halting just beneath the other gaidin’s chin.

“Are you boys broken?” That same voice asked from outside the ring, aged and gruff. A low chorus of pained grunts and moans.

“Hurts like the Pit, sir,” said the one at the end of Cahallan's quarterstaff.

“You’re fine, lads. Cahallan, clean up your mess.” Instructor Amrec waved his hand to them dismissively, and went about scattering the gaggle of on-lookers. Cahallan spied the flash of fleeting white dresses and a silvery chorus of giggles drift off as peeping Novices made themselves scarce. Cahallan rumbled a low chuckle and went about helping his partners up to their feet, clapping them on the back with the occasional exchange of soldier's banter. Most went their own ways, but the youngest among them lingered behind. Fion was his name, if Cahallan remembered correctly. Both were stripped to the waist, as was common during sparring drills, but the two combatants couldn’t be more different. Cahallan was already forged in battle, with the steely physique and scars to show for it. Fion was nearly eight years Cahallan’s junior and was built like a runner with not a scar in sight.

“Burn me, Cal. What side of whose bed did you wake up on?” Fion mused, playful accusation in his voice as he clapped the fine sand from his pants. Cahallan just quirked an eyebrow at first, regarding Fion with an even gaze, as if he was seriously considering the possibilities. He shrugged as he gathered up the discarded straining staves.

“Same as always, I suppose. Though...” he paused to fetch a boot out of a tiny little dune in the middle of the ring, passing it back to Fion. “You ever have those dreams that just, hrmm... put some extra spring in your step?” Cahallan took a deep breath, testing the air and sighing with the faintest curl of a smirk on his lips. It was Fion’s turn to mull.

“Yeah. You nearly knock my head clean to Tear when you're in a *good* mood?” Fion looked Cahallan in those haunting golden eyes of his and saw a hint of amusement. The Malkieri shrugged, which caused Fion to scoff and throw up his hands. “Blood and Ashes, you’re an odd one. Wait... There was a girl in this dream of yours, wasn’t there?” Cahallan’s demeanor remained unchanged but for that same twitch of an eyebrow.

"Ah-ah!" Fion wagged a finger under Cahallan's nose, "I knew this Borderlander stoicism was a front, you bleeding heart, you!" Cahallan swatted Fion's hand away and shared a chuckle with the younger warder, depositing the staves into a barrel and taking up his shirt from a stool to dab the sweat from his face, neck and chest before wiping the blood from his face.

"Well? Anyone in particular?" Fion thrust his chin to the Tower looming overhead like an ivory obelisk, glowing in the sun. Cahallan sniffed initially, his far-seeing eyes growing distant as he meandered into his memory of the Dreaming the night before. Running wild through the reflection of Tar Valon with another wolf, alternating roles as hunter and hunted, feeling the wind rush by his ears as surely as it did in the waking world.

"I'll let you know when I see her," Cahallan shrugged his massive shoulders. Fion groaned with a shake of his head.

"Oh please! Did you rip that out of a dreadful?"

"Yes, I have volumes of trashy Cairhien romance in Marcador's saddlebags," Cahallan replied flatly, pouring two tin cups of fresh water, passing one to Fion, who paused with the cup halfway to his lips.

"Really?"

"You're welcome to try and find out." Cahallan shrugged, casting his eyes about as the wind brought something to his nose. Even through the stink of the warder's muster yard and the tang of blood in his sinuses, he caught it.

"No, thank you. I like having all my fingers," Fion scoffed, downing his cup of water. After several long moments of silence, Fion cleared his throat and dipped his head to Cahallan. "I'm going to go see if I can't pass along the beating you gave me to someone else. Will I see you at mess?" Fion sounded hopeful. He was new to the warders, and despite having little formal training before attendance, was making great strides. Still, he reminded Cahallan of a lost puppy.

"The Wheel weaves..." Cahallan began, inspiring Fion to make himself scarce with a few mumbled blasphemies. Another low grunt of a laugh bubbled up from Cahallan's chest as he took another deep breath, easing the burn of exertion from his lungs and limbs and savoring the pleasant sigh of cool afternoon air on his skin. That scent he picked up before was still there, half-remembered, but still familiar.

[Breggo13]

Four Years Ago, Castle Stoirm Dóiteáin

Emer felt the sweat drip down the nape of her neck, a drop slowly making its way down her tunic to the thick breast band she was wearing, adding another minuscule amount of dampness that had accumulated enough to make the loose cotton shirt stick to her like a second skin. It wasn’t warm up in the Borderlands on any given day and although it was the middle of summer with the harvest season not too far off, the nearby mountains and the roughness of the land seemed reflected in the rather chill air, the sun seemingly glowing warmly in the sky just for show. The wind, a slight mountainous breeze, tugged on her sweaty tunic and damp hair, sending shivers down her body and covering her exposed skin with goosebumps. Wiping her forehead against her arm, Emer once again faced the dummy before her, glaring at its smooth face and began another pattern of blades.

“Father, please! Let me go with you!” The girl followed the tall, broad-shouldered man into his study, a few of the castle’s hounds following them with interest and in search of any free food. It was rare that Emer ended up in this part of the castle, preferring not to disturb the study while her father was away and much too sheepish to enter it when he was in residence, subconsciously associating the grand space with long, stern talks they have had while she was growing up, usually with her ending up grounded for some period of time. Those instances without being allowed to ride or climb or leave the castle’s internal walls were torturous and thus, Emer didn’t want to end up here. Today was different.

“You know the law and the rules of our people,” Lord Duneb’s voice was deep and melodic, resembling a rockslide in power and tambour. Striding over to his desk and sinking into a huge armchair made of dark oak with carvings of old, he smoothed out his left mustache with his thumb. “Women are not allowed into the Blight Lands.”

“I know that,” the exasperation in her voice was hard to hide. “I have heard the same lecture from you and Criedem and Nearl!”

“Not Uram?” Amusement appeared in her father’s dark eyes. Emer felt like screaming. How was it that out of everything she said, he picked up on the most irrelevant part? Did it matter if she listed all her brothers or omitted the one she felt most distant with?

“Uram too but I don’t listen to what he says,” the girl shrugged, irritated. “I know I can’t go into the Blight Lands with you but let me see you to the border.”

The grip of her practice daggers felt like it was coated in a thick layer of oil, the roughened leather handles no longer comfortable in her hands but moving and twisting as though they were a pair of large trout. Her hands cramped as she squeezed her fingers ever more tightly around the hilts, refusing to let the weapons do anything other than what she wanted even if it meant that the rough topper of the hilt dug painfully into the inside of her wrists, ensuring that there would be bruises tomorrow. Not like it mattered anyway – tomorrow, she would be sent off to Cairhien, exiled from her own home to live with her uncle until her father came home or, god forbid, she was married off to some pompous nobleman in the Westlands. The mere idea of marriage made the girl growl and attack the innocent dummy with renewed rigor, fueled by raw energy and anger.

“I think I spoiled you too much, letting you roam the Borderlands the way you do,” Duneb rubbed his temples with a sigh, closing his eyes and allowing thick eyebrows to come together so that it now appeared that a very fuzzy caterpillar climbed up onto his face. “Unmarried women are not allowed to accompany armies to the border, it is simply not allowed.”

“So what? Are you just going to keep me locked up here until I die a crone? Is this what you want?!” Emer’s hands transformed into tight fists, eyes burning with a glare. “I want to fight! I’m the best rider, better than Uram and I have been keeping my own against Nimao for months! Please, let me come.”

“Nimao is a good man and soldier but he is not what crosses the border from the Blight Lands. I will not put my men in danger by bringing you with us. You will be a distraction and a liability on the way there and will need an escort on the way back. I have no men to spare.”

“I am capable of getting home alone,” the girl responded boldly, ignoring the small echo of doubt in her mind. The hound trying to sniff her fist paused his efforts and looked up at the girl concerned, amber eyes confused. “Why do you not trust me?”

“My answer remains the same, pup. You will stay here,” Duneb looked into his daughter’s green eyes, looking tired. “For me, little one.”

“You can’t make me,” Emer jolted her chin up, nails digging into the soft skin of her palms. “I will ride after you and you can’t stop me.”

“Emer, please. Stop this nonsense,” Duneb tried to reason with the stubborn child but Emer stomped her foot, the hound scattering out of harm’s way.

“I want to come with you!”

“Be reasonable, pup. The Blight Lands are no matter for jest and I can’t spare men to protect you. I can’t lose you, little one. Should anything happen to me or your brothers, I want someone to carry on the family name. I want my grandchildren to one day grow up in these very walls, playing in the gardens like you kids did,” the man stood up, coming closer to the girl and gently taking her hands in his. Emer stared at her small palms in her father’s large almost bear-like ones, emotions battling within her. “Your place is to stay here and keep the homestead fire alive. To be the protector of the South. To be safe.”

“No,” Emer pulled her hands away, taking a step back. “No, I want to fight! You can’t seriously expect me to just sit at home, embroidering napkins and hoping you make it back!”

“No, I guess I cannot,” there was pain in her father’s eyes but Emer bit her lip in stubbornness, not about to back down now. Sighing and looking as though there was the weight of the world upon his shoulders, Lord Duneb turned his back to the girl clasping his hands behind him and looking out the window at the Mountains of Mist. “Perhaps you are yet too young and wild to stay home as I had hoped. After all, you are but a child at sixteen. If you cannot adhere to my wishes and my pleas, perhaps it is best you go somewhere you will be kept in line.”

“Father, what are you saying?” a cold chill gripped Emer’s heart, making it hard to breathe. The air within the study felt frigid, seemingly losing all its usual warmth and comfort even with the small fire blazing in the small fireplace. Sweat formed at the back of her neck, a sign of stress and discomfort but Emer tried to keep her voice calm and level as each heartbeat echoed in her ears like a sentencing bell.

“Your uncle, Lord Ardál, has been offering to host you so that you do not remain alone. I was hesitant to send you all the way to Cairhein, away from your homelands but now, I fear you have left me no choice Emer.”

“You cannot be serious about this,” Emer wasn’t sure if it was a plea or a threat but she suddenly felt very distant from her own body, as though she was watching the scene unfold in front of her as an observer. Badum-badum. Her heart measured the moments with the unstoppable beat of a snare drum before a hanging. Her throat tightened and her eyes seemed to glaze over. “You cannot be serious about sending me away.”

“Cairhein and your uncle’s influence will be good for you. Bring you some…much needed structure in your life. It is for the best – for all of us.” Duneb turned back to his daughter, his expression softening for a moment. “You may learn to enjoy your mother’s homeland.”

“Is this your final say, my lord?” Emer lowered her gaze, burning holes in the ground by her father’s feet. The man sighed.

“Yes. You are dismissed. I suggest you start packing – Nearl and his men will accompany you in three days time.”
Hissing in pain as the dagger’s hilt jabbed into her inner wrist with force, Emer stepped back from the mannequin, breathing hard as she circled it like a wolf stalking its prey. As her mind replayed that conversation again and again, she started to lose the focus that allowed her to make mistakes. A few were simple bumps into the mannequin, a couple more were maneuvers to avoid the swinging bags of sand but the last one finally got to her. Rotating her wrist as she changed her clammy grip on the hilt, Emer checked to see if there was any lasting damage aside from a throbbing bruise and an even more bruised ego. Panting and shaking her head to remove some extra sweat from her forehead, Emer rushed at the wooden dummy one last time, arm raised to strike it dead in the heart.

“What in the world are you doing?” a strong hand gripped her wrist, stopping her movement. Surprised and panting, strands of black hair plastered to her forehead, Emer raised her tiered eyes up to meet her brother’s questioning gaze. “Come on, pup, speak up.”

“None of your business, Nearl,” Emer growled but covered in sweat and panting like a dog after a hunt didn’t help her appear more fierce. Her brother shook his head, his dark hazel eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Now now, we both know that isn’t true. You have scared half the staff - the cook came running to me, claiming the young lady MagAoidh has gone mad,” The man chuckled as Emer’s eyes became confused, slowly letting go of her wrist. “She did ask if you wanted chicken noodle soup.”

“I,” the girl blinked, “I want to go with you.”

“You are, tomorrow,” Nearl grinned as the wind ruffled his black hair. Unlike his brothers and father, the youngest of the men decided to remain clean shaven and grow his hair out to be near his shoulders. His skin was tanned from countless days in the saddle and the unforgiving, cold Borderland sun. Six years older than Emer, he was the most live-loving soldier that ever lived, always willing to crack a joke or otherwise help the mood of those around him.

“I meant to the Blight Lands,” Emer huffed, sitting down on the ground and sticking her daggers into the ground beside her. “Or, at least, to stay here.”

“Oi, pup,” Nearl rolled his eyes, sitting down beside her and pulling out one of the weapons. “Cairhein is not as bad as you think it is. Mother was from there - she used to tell some pretty amazing stories of the festivals and celebrations that she attended. Frankly, it seemed that all Cairhein does is celebrate.”

“I want to fight,” Emer whispered, looking at the second weapon beside her. “I want to be a warrior.”

“You ought to have been born a boy,” Nearl teased, weighing the dagger in his grip and nodding with approval. “One day, maybe you will be. You do have that gift,” he tapped his nose with his free hand. Emer smiled weakly though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“The good it does me,” she grumbled, standing up shakily and pulling out her second dagger from the ground. “The scents of violence still make me quesy.”

“It makes you a good kid,” the man offered, standing up easily. “Sometimes, a battle is won without raising a sword. Sometimes,” Nearl tossed the dagger at the dummy, impaling the blade straight into the imaginary forehead, “you need to face danger head on. Either way, violence for the sake of violence is never the answer. You will figure out how to do what you want - one day. And for now, stop terrorizing the castle and go wash. You smell worse than a herd of wild horses.”

******

Four years ago, Caerleon Palace

“Oh, sacre bleu! Did anyone see you like this?!” Lord Ardál changed shades as frequently as a chameleon as he passed the cozy sitting room, his complexion changing from red to white and back. Nearl, leaning against one wall, grinned with amusement though made certain that his uncle didn’t see an outright chuckle. Emer stood in front of her new guardian, feeling as though she was a wild animal brought in to be groomed and paraded around. It wasn’t exactly fair to hate her uncle without getting to know him first however, it seemed both of them had very different expectations to reality. Lord Ardál seemed to have been under the impression that his only niece was more of a lady than a wild child and the letter that his brother-in-law had sent a few weeks ago was more of an exaggeration than a very blunt description of reality. “Not that there's anything wrong with you, my dear. You look so much like your mother, the same beauty but…” He paused, trying to find the right words to describe what he meant.

“I pictured you a bit taller,” Emer responded, furrowing her brows together and crossing her arms on her chest. Fate has had to be joking with her right about now - was she honestly to be stuck in a new country with a distant relative who couldn’t even get the time to know her while her brothers and father were off protecting the world? How was she to even attempt to tolerate that?!

“And her father’s sense of humour,” Ardál chuckled, finally taking a deep breathe and settling on a slightly flustered countenance. “I am so sorry dear - I really have allowed my expectations to get the best of me. I see so much of Ciara in you that I involuntarily expect you to behave like her.”

“Well, I am not my mother,” Emer refused to let her guard down that easily. Ardál nodded to himself before taking a small bell and ringing it. A few seconds later, a well-dressed servant poked his nose in, looking at the man expectantly.

“You called, master?”

“Yes, Ari. Bring us afternoon tea with camomile extract. Extra sandwiches too - I think there is much we would like to discuss and we will not get through it on an empty stomach,” Ardál lowered himself gracefully into a big armchair, nodding for his niece and nephew to find seats on the couches surrounding an elegant table with a lace tablecloth. Ari bowed and disappeared, quietly closing the door behind him. “Now, tell me everything.”

******

Half a year ago, Cairhein Palace, Midwinter

Tiavany sat at a table at the far end of the room. He seemed to be watching everything at once, his face seemed blank.
His black hair was long for a man and was tied back behind his head, his green eyes intent on the party as he swirled the drink in his cup. His clothes were of a clean cut, but a bit simple for an heir of the dragon’s throne.

Emer smiled, out of breathe, as another young man invited her to dance but presently declined, excusing herself to grab a drink of mulled wine. The Midwinter ball was a long affair, often lasting much longer than any of the Cairhein festivities which were, on their own, night long ordeals. Nodding to her uncle across the packed ballroom as he continued to chat with his friends and some newcomers, the young woman ended up by the far corner, leaning against the wall with a cup in hand and trying to regain her breathe. The tight bodice of her dress was fashionable alright but restrictive to say the least and, seeing as she refused to wear any kind of corset outside social functions, it felt rather strange.

“Of all the things,” Emer muttered, trying to figure out how to make the dress a smidge more comfortable, tugging on the fabric a few times before giving up with a huff, her eyes sweeping with boredom across the room until they met with a rather calculating green gaze not far from her.

“Quite the dance.” he said in a rather thoughtful tone without even looking at her. “How about you take a seat.” he gestured to the several empty chairs at the table before taking a sip of his muledwine and his gaze seemed to shift ever so slightly and his board face seemed to stretch into a faint smile as if he may have found something amusing. “The lords are at odds again.” he mused. “Seems like they can’t let the simplest thing go, especially in it doesn’t benefit them. They would rather someone not gain a benefit than gain one themselves it seems.” he sighed. “They need to learn to grow up. All this making allies seems to be for naught.”

“What do you mean?” Emer took a seat, ending up on the edge of the chair in part due to the skirts of her dress and in part due to her instincts telling her to tread with care. Something about this man made her uncomfortable and she couldn’t quite say what - perhaps the way he seemed to know more than he was willing to share.

“The great game is really interesting, but can be really tricky and dangerous.” he said as he looked into his wine. “The political maneuvering, the schemes and plots they make for their own gain or to take away a victory from another even if it doesn’t help them. All the shady talks and the deals they all know they won’t keep, all to keep the other from gaining power in hopes that they would get it themselves.” he took another sip of his drink before continuing. “They’ll just end up killing each other off before they can even reach the heights they wish. It’s all just a petty squabble that won’t ever end until they are all gone. Makes me wonder why they continue.” he gave a shrug and another sigh. “What they need is unity and stability, or all these backstabbing plots they make are gonna kill them.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about what is going on in Cairhein and yet,” Emer raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of seeing you at any of the other functions and festivities. Who are you, that you are so informed about the inner workings of a city you do not frequent?”

“Emer, there you are,” the girl wasn’t certain when her uncle had come to find her but Lord Ardál had that uncanny ability to have the worst timing ever. Sighing, the girl turned her pale green eyes up to look at her relative.

“I can’t exactly disappear in the middle of Winter like this, now can I uncle?”

“Lord Tiavany, I did not realize it was you,” the Cairhein noble almost immediately switched his attention from the girl to her companion, lowering his head in a courteous greeting. “I hope my niece didn’t interrupt your evening.” Emer gave her uncle a glare but three years of living in his household have finally taught her to keep her mouth shut - especially when the man was following the intricate and confusing rules of etiquette.

“Oh, she was no trouble at all.” Tiavany said and gestured to a chair. “have a seat. I’m sure that the other lords have had enough of each other as you have. It might do you well to take a short rest off your feet.” Tiavany took another sip of his mulled wine. “Emer, was it? I think your uncle here might like a glass of wine himself. I think he would be ever so pleased with you if you could get it for him.” his tone had a bit more pleased drip to it at this point.

Knowing when she was dismissed, Emer sighed and stood up to do as she was bid. Whoever this man was, he was someone her uncle held in high regard and with the look Lord Ardal was giving her, it was clear she was not wanted in the conversation that was about to unfold. Fetching a glass for her uncle and a jug of mulled wine for the pair, she placed everything on the table before the men before offering a curtsy and leaving them to their business. As the Midwinter festivities once again engulfed her in cheer and dancing, it wasn’t until the carriage ride home that Emer once again remembered the strange man at the ballroom.

“Uncle, who was that? That man....” Over the past few years, Emer started to look upon Ardál as a second father and, even though he tried to hide it, the older man enjoyed having his niece there, having no children or a wife of his own. Having spent most of his life focusing on bringing the Caerleon name back into the Golden book of nobility after it fell out of favor during his grandfather’s reign, Lord Ardál didn’t have time to marry or raise kids. His childhood love died while the couple was engaged and after that, business, politics and the game had consumed him. Had Emer not showed up nearly four years ago, Ardál would have accomplished his dreams and withered away without anything else to keep him going and while the young woman had added more than a handful of grey hairs and put him into a few awkward situations, he had enjoyed watching her grow up from the wild child that he first met to a forward, brave and roughly refined young woman she was now.

“Which one, Emer?” the Lord raised an eyebrow, shadows from the lanterns on the streets playing upon his features.

“Lord Tiavany,” Emer pulled at her fur monteau to cover the slightly exposed skin. When she was leaving the ballroom, she had debated the need to put it on but now, she was glad her uncle insisted on it. “He isn’t from here.”

“I always underestimate you child,” Ardál chuckled before taking a small pause. “Tiavany Al’Thor is one of the Dragon Throne heirs. He takes a great interest in politics and maintaining peace through win-win negotiations. He can be a powerful ally.”

“Or a dangerous foe?” Emer shuddered, thinking back to the confident, calculating gaze. Ardál sat in silence for a moment.

“Yes but I believe he comes as a friend. If he follows through on what he offered me, I think he will be a friend indeed.”

“Do you trust him?” the young woman asked, her eyes searching the older man’s face. Ardál shook his head.

“Of course not, don’t be daft. Trust can only be gained once actions follow words and with this one, only time will tell.”

******

Present Day, Caerleon Palace

“Good morning uncle,” Emer placed a gentle kiss on the man’s cheek before sitting down on the chair to his right. The small gazebo in the palace’s gardens was their favorite place to break fast when the weather permitted it. Hidden among roses and other exotic plants, it provided a quiet retreat and all the servants knew not to disturb their master or the young lady when they dined in the gardens. The breakfast room was a whole different matter and while in the winter, with the fire blazing, quite comfy, in the summer it meant that almost every meal would be interrupted by something urgent.

“Good morning Emer,” Ardál smiled as he cut a slice of beef with his small dagger and placed it on a slice of fresh baked bread. “Hope you slept well.”

“As the Wheel turns, uncle,” Emer grinned, nodding as a servant poured her chilled apple cider. Reaching for a steaming sweet roll, the young woman raised an eyebrow. “I see that you are in a rather swell mood.”

“Let’s just say an old friend, ah, delivered on his friendship,” the old noble chuckled before taking a bite of his makeshift sandwich. Shaking her head in amusement, Emer sneaked a small bit of her roll under the table to the lithe shepherd dog who snatched the treat before the master of the house noticed. “I hope you remember that we had been invited to Lord Huegh’s dinner tonight?”

“Must I go with you uncle?” Emer raised pleading eyes. “It is always a bore and all I do there is sit and look pretty and pretend I am the dumbest girl in the world.”

“Have you noticed that it is near you that he spills all his secrets?” Ardál raised an eyebrow. “People assume that those who stay silent are also blind and deaf.”

“His son keeps showing me interest and I am not sure how much longer I can keep my tongue behind my teeth,” Emer rebuffed, ripping off another piece of the roll and popping it into her mouth. Ardál made a face, knowing perfectly well what she was referring to. The young Hans was a stunning fellow if a bit dimwitted and unable to take subtle hints from young ladies especially when wine was involved. It was the rare days when he was both glad and a bit terrified that his niece wielded a dagger as well as a street thug.

“I’d rather you unsheathe your tongue than your dagger,” her uncle muttered under his breathe. “Regardless, rumour has it some special guests may be in attendance tonight and I need you there.”
“You know I hate it, right uncle?” Emer sighed in defeat. Ardál did know that - in fact, he had learned much about his ward. She was very good at needlework, for example, but lost interest rather quickly. The magnificent tapestry that she had made for him as a gift depicting her family’s portrait had taken her nearly three years. He did catch a glimpse of a smaller tapestry in the works in her rooms, an image of a Aiel with piercing golden eyes, hidden by a sandstorm. Although not about to approve the subject of her work, Ardál did notice that his niece’s skill improved tenfold since the beginning.

“I also know you are feeding the dog at the table again,” he pointedly moved the hound with his toe and the shepherd trotted out, looking apologetic. “Emer, how many times did I ask for you to not teach the dog bad manners?”

“I’m sorry,” the young woman didn’t show any remorse. “Can you pass the butter?”

Their morning meal continued in a similar fashion, discussing their plans and obligations, Emer begging to be allowed to join the other young nobles in their hunting party and Ardál bringing up the need to leave town for a couple weeks on a business trip. As the servants cleaned up the food, leaving behind only tea for the lady and a small jug of brandy for the Lord. Ardál poured himself a small glass and swirled the drink around, looking at his niece in thought as she poured tea from a porcelain teapot into an elegantly crafted cup, a gift from one of her current admirers. Ever since he met her, Lord Caerleon always knew that the girl would break hearts wherever she went - free spirited, curious with a good head and pretty too look at, she would always stand out among the other more refined and reserved ladies. However, he never thought that Emer would have very little interest in the suitors that tried to pursue her. For now, Ardál let the situation be, watching with a bemused gaze as men tried - and ultimately failed - to woo the young woman however, soon, it would be time to start looking for a match. In secret, he sent quite a few letters to his brother-in-law but there was no reply. It worried Ardál but he had decided not to mention it yet. There was still a chance the letters were looking for the intended receiver.

“Am I correct in assuming you do not want to accompany me to the Palace of Trade?” Ardál asked, waving for the servants to clean up the remainder of their morning ordeal. Taking a final sip and dabbing her lips with a handkerchief, Emer raised an eyebrow. “Right, I just wanted to confirm before I made the walk without you.”

“How very kind of you,” Emer shook her head. “I believe I will take my chances and go to the archery range.”

“Again Emer? When will it stop?” Ardál groaned, knowing perfectly well that his concerns would be disregarded. “At least take Rosin or Edward with you.”

“And be a laughing stock? Uncle, I will be fine. I always am.”

[Highland Sniper]

"So what time are we leaving?" Jin asked John as he climbed down.
They had just reached the last town and it was only past noon.

"Oh, meet back in about 2 hours. That should give us enough time to reach Carhien." The bearded man said.

"You got it." Jin said before he began walking around town. He wondered if anyone played at cards over in this area. He knew that the Tearian lords played cards, but not much for the rest of Tear.

He looked around and went to the closest inn. The Golden Cup.
He stepped in, very much looking like an outsider with his hair held out of his eyes with a bandanna and a rifle hanging from his shoulder.
He quickly found an empty table and took a seat and requested some soft ale when asked if he wanted anything.
He quickly pulled out his deck of cards and started shuffling.

"How much?" A man asked as he came up to the table.

"As much as you're willing to lose,my friend." Jin said. "Take a seat and I'll deal you in."

The man took a chair and sat down as Jin dealt out 4 cards. 2 for the man and 2 for himself.

They both put down some coins before looking at their cards.
A king and queen, it already looked like a good start.
But the other man gave a slight smile, and Jin knew that it was genuine as he kept his own blank.

Jin put in a few more coins and pulled another card. A jack, just his luck.
The other man put in a few coins of his own and Jin saw him grin. But it felt as if it wasn't a truthful grin, it probably wasn't going his way.

A few more coins and a draw gave Jin an ace. Surely this would get him a win. He eyes the other man before he tossed in more coins and took another card. His eyes seemed to say that it wasn't a good hand.

Jin smiled as he laid out his cards. For a moment, it seemed like all the man could do was stare.
And when he made no other moves but to lay down his own cards, Jin took the pot and put what he could into his coin purse.

"Is one game enough for you? Or would you like to go again?" Jin asked.

"Nope, I'm good." The man said as he got up and started to walk away.

"So much for a game of cards." Jin muttered as he put his cards away. He soon finished his ale and went to look around the small town. He had plenty of time before he had to leave.

[P.K.]

The mixture of scents was heavy on the wind, the faint iron tang of blood, the musty sweaty smell of men at work it must be coming from the warders corner of the tower grounds. It was funny how individuals had each their own scent, something that identified them from everyone else. And even so there were scents that stood out even among the strange uniqueness of other individuals.

Her name shouted out loud brought her from her wandering thoughts and stopped her wandering footsteps. She looked over her shoulder at the approaching pair. "Ah, Fiava. Thailmon." She greeted with her signature mischievous smile. "Well I suppose That's what you get for being away for more then a few days." she replied teasingly to the older women, though she wasn't that much older. The wind shifted directions, taking the scent she had been following with it making her sigh as the smell of the city wafted in, on the bright side Fiava smelled positively delicious. "You went by a bakery didn't you?" she couldn't but ask, the mouth watering smell of fresh bread.

"guilty." she said. "I don't think you know how I can get when I travel, do you?" "you could eat like a horse." Thailmon said with that half smile turning into something like a half grin. "well no one asked you." Fiava said, poking him playfully. "I see you went with green. I'd say it was a good choice. but how have you been? doing well?"
Fiava stepped closer to look her up and down and seemed to stare into her gold eyes, and not for the first time. she smiled after a moment of hard, concerned looks. "you seem fine enough."

She chuckled at the two, "well now I know." Siofra didn't move as the women moved closer, inspecting her. She was never sure how she felt about the women's pressing concern for her, but at least it seemed to be real concern for her. "Of coarse I'm fine." She insisted with something of a mock pout. "I'm not a child, and haven't been a child for some time." she said. "Honestly you needn't fret yourself so much, I can handle myself." She said confidently.

She gave a soft chuckle. "I thought so myself a few times myself until Thailmon saved my hide more than once." she said with a smile. "trust me, I felt invincible until I realized I would have been killed without Thailmon, Gerin and Ferbin." she laughed at her own memories of some of her travels.
"you needn't treat it so lightly." Thailmon said. "you know we would be heartbroke with you gone. why, we'd give up being Gaiden and drink ourselves to death."
"oh, don't be over dramatic." Fiava said. "but really, you should get going before all the good ones are gone."

She looked between the two a half smile playing on her lips. they had a good relationship indeed, she and her warders. She blinked though as Fiava addressed her once more. "Blood and Ashes what ever do you mean?" She asked bewildered. "I couldn't possibly." she said. "I'd only be slowed down by a voice of reason." she said her half smile widening. "After all there's so much to this world if I had to tote around my own personal protection Id never make it." she said chuckling. "No offense Thailmon, your good at what you do." She said.

Thailmon gave a small huff, but the half smile didn't leave his face as if he found her flare a little amusing. but as Fiava took it likely, she also had a few words.
"you don't know what you're passing up." she said with a knowing smile. "and a voice of reason might be what you need to keep you out of trouble."
"and alive" Thailmon put in. "but I know as well as any, an Aies Sedai worth anything can handle herself as good as the best warder. but an Aies Sedai needs a warder to watch her back." the way his face was set this time seemed to say he wasn't going to budge.
"trust me," Fiava said. "A warder is worth more than you understand." she gave another smile before saying. "I better see the others. they must be wandering what's going on in the world, some might be going stir crazy." she chuckled and started to walk into the tower with Thialmon at her heals.

Siofra listened to the women's words for a moment, looking between the two. She was silent for a long moment, quietly waving the two off as they entered into the tower. A voice of reason to keep her out of trouble, light knew she probably needed. Perhaps Thailmon was right. She needed someone to watch her back, like a pack of wolves, how she missed that to have someone who really cared about her well being and not just the usefulness of a tool. She set her sights in the direction of the warders training yard thoughtfully.

~~~~~

Senay exited the tower taking in one slow shaky breath after the other, sisters had greeted her quietly in passing and she'd managed one small nod after another, not all of the sisters were intimidating but every single one of them had some strange calm air around them that she could only hope to mimic. It was a Miracle at all that she'd made it into full sister hood and she had many sisters to thank for it, but most of all Siofra. Speaking of the golden eyed women Senay was afraid she'd already missed her.

Her steps had brought her outside of the tower, looking into the warders training yard. She paused briefly to listen to the audible sound of wood against wood, or body. She winces at the sounds but marveled at the raw strength. She'd lived at sea most of her life, large sweaty men were not new and they barely gave her a glance. A gaggle of novices whisked past her as the sparing ring began to disperse, eager to be away before they got into trouble.

Senay paused for a moment longer to watch the bare chested men go their separate ways. Most towered well over head and shoulders to the small women, she still felt like a child when in close proximity to anyone who dwarfed her so, which was only another reason to avoid people all together. She clutched her books close to her chest as she watched, noting the injuries to some, though not sever there was just the faintest urge to do something about it, but her courage lapsed quickly under her anxiety leaving her to turn quickly and make her way to the stables, if Siofra had not made her way into the city yet then she was certainly checking up on Rose gold. Besides it was a quite place that she could collect herself.

The sweet smell of fresh hay and the ever so quite nickers and whinnies were one of the most pleasant things she found here besides the quite library and the gardens. trailing her hand along the row of stalls she peered into each one in search of Soifra's mount.

With the opportunity to finally be by himself for a few moments, Cahallan sat in a trance-like meditation; eyes lidded and focusing on his breathing. His pulse pounded, causing every welt and bruise to throb as a sullen reminder that even with his years of training and experience, he still can learn. When his breathing had mellowed and the drumming of his heart had returned to something more lax, Cahallan rose and brushed the dirt from his breeches, draping his sodden shirt around his neck like a towel before heading to the stables. Marcador, being as he was, didn't tolerate stablehands, leaving Cahallan as his sole caretaker.

The stable doors groaned softly as Cahallan eased them open with a slight nudge of his shoulder. The pungent bouquet of scents hit Cahallan in the head like a hammer - hay, horse-sweat, refuse, and saddle leather. It wasn't unpleasant, just strong. Cahallan cleared his throat with a grunt, speaking as he closed the doors behind him.

"One of these days, you simply must stop mistreating the stable-boy," Cahallan said in a chiding tone. During this time, the stables were usually vacant, so he didn't feel the need to preface just who he was talking to.

Senay had found some ease in the quite though Siofra did not appear to be here which meant she had already headed off to the city on her own. Senay didn't feel like trying to traverse the streets on her own and having located Rose gold she decided she'd much rather spend a quite moment here instead. She carefully placed her books in a safe place just outside the stall and opened the door to step inside. Rose greeted her with a nicker and the immediate investigation of her new shawl before searching for a treat. Senay giggled softly at the mares prying nose gently pushing her away with a soft apologetic grunt. She hadn't thought to bring her anything, she silently promised to make it up to the mare. The groan of the stable doors alerted no one but the strong voice that followed made Senay pause.

Moving to the open stall door she peered around the door to the man who had entered. Even from a distance and in the dim light she could tell he was a Gaidin, Towering well over her stature. Certainly he couldn't be talking to her and she didn't have the intention of letting him know she was here. She gripped the door tightly to quietly close herself in with the waiting mare behind her, fully intending to sit and wait till Siofra found her.

Rose had other ideas, bless her free spirited playful nature. She was probably wry of being cooped up, ready for a good run as she nosed Senay's back eagerly, making her stumble into the open walk way and started out after her with a happy little whinny, her hoofs clipping the stone as she pranced a little while Senay tried to regain her footing.

Halfway down the straw-strewn corridor, Cahallan was shaking a finger at his own horse amid half-hearted chastisement. Marcador was grumbling back in his own way when the door to one of the stalls yawned open. Instinct flared in Cahallan as a body came stumbling out. He reached for a sword hilt that wasn't there, and cursed inwardly. As he took in the situation, he pressed his lips into a thin line and chastised himself.

Snatching out with a hand, quick as an adder's strike, he took the mousey woman by the arm. She was... not just petite. She was tiny! In trying to prevent her fall, Cahallan had all but hoisted her bodily off the ground. Marcador added his own whinny to the mare's, a pair of sardonic equine laughter. Cahallan shot a wolf-eyed glare at his own steed for a brief second before clearing his throat,

"A thousand pardons, Aes Sedai," Cahallan said lowly, setting the little woman down and smoothing the wrinkles in her sleeve with the back of his hand.

An addable gasp left her lips as her free hand clutched to Cahallan's arm as she hung in the air. If only for a moment. The world spun in a terrifying confusing circle for a moment before her feet were planted on the ground. She gripped at his arm for a moment longer to keep herself steady even as her hands began to tremble from the shock as she tried to wrap her mind around what just happened.

She quickly released his arm as he spoke, interlacing her fingers tightly together to try and still their trembling. Rose whinnied more softly stepping out to gently nose Senay's cheek as if Apologizing to the shaking women. the warm nose comforted her a little as she followed the arm up to the face far above her. She felt herself pale a little, intimidating was a word she used often for nearly everyone even when they meant to be friendly. She often asked herself what would Siofra do? but the answer was obvious, she'd never be intimidated and she's probably thank the man and strike up conversation. Nither of which she could do herself even if she wanted to. But something did make her pause.

Those golden eyes. They were so much like Siofra's though his seemed stronger, more intense like pure gold where as her friends was much warmer. Curious, and familier. It distracted her for only a moment before she realized that it be rude not to thank him for saving her from her tumble, even if the effect had been nearly the opposite effect. Unfortunately verbally was not an option for her, and she had no ink or paper however... there was something she had been experimenting with. She'd only shown it to Siofra so far as she didn't speak much with anyone else but she supposed now was as good a time as any.

Taking a small breath the small women began weaving small strands of fire and air together as she unclasped her hands. She found it easier to focus on the spelling if she put the words between her hands, and one by one rough glowing letters appeared between her palms spelling out her simple 'Thank you' Judging by the bruises on his body he had been in a sparing mach recently. They made her wince knowing how painful even bruises could be when the woven letters faded she quietly held out a shaking hand out to him.

Cahallan took her hand, mostly just pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, and shook softly. His hand was warm and calloused, his eyes penetrating and unblinking in their intensity. Though, Cahallan's head tilted faintly at use of a Weave for sign. Clearing his throat again, he released the little Sister's hand and tried another method. Working in fluid tandem, Cahallan's hands spoke in the regional hand-talk. He'd known his share of scarred veterans who had been made mute by their wounds, and picked the dialect up over several years. He spoke in tandem with his hand-sign, just in case.

"No thanks is necessary. I am Cahallan..." he paused, gesturing to the stallion in his stall. "and that is Marcador. He would be offended if I failed to introduce him. May I have your name, Sister?" Cahallan's hands ceased their flashing at the same time he ceased speaking, the subtlest curl at the corner of his mouth. The stallion, as if on queue, dipped his head as if in a bow. Cahallan spared a wry glance to Marcador. Of course he was behaving himself. There was a mare present. The warder shook his head briefly at his horse before turning his attention to the Aes Sedai.

Senay watched with fascination at the work of his hands, he spoke quickly enough that she could only match a few of the signs to the words that he spoke. She looked between him and the mount he introduced the faintest of smiles upon her shy lips as she once again laced her fingers together for a moment in contemplation. A language of hands how fascinating and the urge to learn was strong but her shyness was still yet to strong for her to ask. she parted her palms again weaving quietly. "They call me Senay." She then gestured to the horse shaking its head beside her, it only seemed fitting after all even though rose was not her mount. "And this is Rose gold, She belongs to a good friend."

Strangely enough some of her fear had gone away the moment he'd began signing to her, intrigued but still not less nervous as she shifted quietly and ran a small hand down the mares nose. She wove again. "Might you require healing? surly those bruises cannot be comfortable."

So, that answered one of Cahallan's questions. She didn't know hand-speak, or at least that certain denomination. Still, Cahallan's eyes swept across the ember scrawl between Senay's hands, the gold gleaming in the flickering light. He bowed his head politely, subtly aware the shared mannerisms between himself and Marcador in that moment.

"Charmed, Senay Sedai," he said, completing the exchange of introductions. Once again reading her message, he glanced down at himself. "Your kindness is appreciated, but no. They're not life threatening, and whatever does not kill you makes you stronger."

Senay was not certain she agreed but was not inclined to argue. Perhaps it hurt her more to see it then it was for him to feel it. The people here were strong willed and strong in mind and body and her's had been broken long ago. Even other sisters had comment on how hard it could be to heal from such training. records of the past when her masters... her people had tried to invade this land gave great details upon the Aes sedai that had been captured. Some fared better then others but Senay had known nothing till she washed up here.

"I envy your strength of will." She wove quietly. "The people of these lands are so unyielding its little wounder that the Seanchan had to fight for every inch they took and yet still left." Siofra had always told her to distance herself from her former life, They were no longer her people even if they were always a part of her history. She glanced into his golden eyes realizing after a moment that was perhaps the most she'd said to anyone at once other then Siofra. Even in single conversation she usually did not say much.

"When united? Without a doubt. That is not so much the case these days," Cahallan said solemnly, moving a slow hand to brush along the mare's neck.

"You remind me of her." She wove slowly. "You are both very kind but I imagine you both posses incredible strength of will, though perhaps she is more headstrong." She quirked the smallest smile. There was a familier air of wildness about them though Siofra's seemed to show though as Cahallan's was masked by discipline behind his golden eyes. She cocked her head up at him as she studied his golden eyes for a moment before she wove. "You even share her golden eyes."

Now, that was interesting. Cahallan quirked his head once again in that canine manner, his dark eyebrow arching.

"Of whom do you speak? Another Sister of the Tower?" There was an intense curiosity burning in Cahallan's chest at the prospect of another like him out there, let alone one is such immediate proximity.

Rose tossed her head, happily accepting the attention as the two spoke, Senay nodding quietly to his inquiry. "She is of the Green Ajah, Siofra Al'tare." She studied the mans gaze for a moment and cocked head, there were strange similarities between the two indeed like two of the same breed. As Siofra was not here she could only be in the city doing as she had threatened to do for years. "I was hopping to find her here, but I believe I missed her and she has ventured into the city." She weaved finely.

How long had they been speaking for? It was strange, but a sense of ease had washed over the atmosphere as they spoke. Her anxiety was not completely gone but it had become clear that Cahallan was easy to speak to. Was it because of these similarities?

"Interesting," he said thoughtfully, chewing on his lip in thought, but brought himself back to the conversation at hand. "Then I should not keep you if you have an appointment, Senay Sedai." Cahallan retained a sense of lax formality throughout his speech, offering his hand to help her into the saddle.

"If you are willing to wait a moment so I may make myself presentable, I could provide an escort." Going out into Tar Valon proper sounder infinitely preferable than drilling the green recruits through the forms.

Senay blinked with a little surprise. She had not intended to go out into the city but as he offered his hand and spoke of escorting her into the city she flushed faintly. She didn't feel like she could say no now even as the nervous gnawing in her stomach returned. Though perhaps it would not be so bad with a new... friend. Courage, Courage like a wolf she could hear Siofra saying. Senay took in a steadying breath before she took his offered hand and nodded in agreement.

Taking the minuscule Aes Sedai's hand, Cahallan lead her around to the mare's flank. With a grip that encircled Senay's midriff, he helped her up into the seat of the saddle with as little effort as he would shucking a bale of hay or sack of flour. Taking the mare's bridle, he lead her towards the door that fed into the muster yard.

"I will be with you in a moment. Do not wander off," he said with that barely distinguishable smirk, smoothing the mare's mane before going to fetch his own horse. And a top.

[StormWolf]

"What? This is precisely what we signed up for," Cahallan said to Marcador, who had been nickering contemptuously at the Malkieri when he returned to the stallion's stall. Cahallan ran his calloused hand down the horse's brow, velvety soft beneath his fingers.

"Yes, I am aware that I was something of a hypocrite, but we both know how you get around pretty ladies. Promise to behave?" Cahallan brushed along Marcador's neck and flank, then kitted him up with the same dark saddle they departed home with. Despite his lively nature, Marcador stood statue still as the saddle was secured in place, waiting until the straps and buckles were fastened before nipping at Cahallan's arm.

"Fine. I will be on my best behavior as well. Satisfied?" Cahallan sighed, then chuckled at the begrudging nod his horse gave in response. Throwing open one of the saddlebags, Cahallan rummaged for a fresh linen shirt and deep green dolman jacket with silver buttons and black braiding. Being in the latest military fashion, Cahallan didn't bother with all eighteen buttons lest he keep the lady waiting. Taking the belt and scabbard from where it hunt over Marcador's saddle horn, Cahallan belted on his weapon of station.

Clicking his tongue, Cahallan took Marcador's lead and brought him into the muster yard to join Senay. Stepping fluidly into the saddle, he gave the stallion one last pat on the neck, then nodded to the Aes Sedai.

"On your leave, Senay Sedai," he said with a nod, proper as ever.

Senay had been fiddling with Rose's reigns as her mind nervously took in what she was doing. It kind of had just happened really fast and unexpectedly and now here she was doing something entirely new with our Siofra's little push. She was struggling between her old anxiety and the new training she'd received here.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Rose pawed at the ground when the Gaidin and his steed emerged from the stables. Tossing her head and prancing lightly eager to be on the move. Siofra had taught her a little bit about riding and Rose was always so gentle and easy to handle so it was easy to still her as she watched Cahallan mount. When he was ready She nodded and took a moment to steady herself. She was a full sister now, shouldn't she be more confident? She gripped the reigns tightly and sent Rose into a gentle walk.

There was more then one tailors shop with in the city, Siofra had mentioned one she seemed to like particularly well so it seemed like the best idea to head for that one first. She was pretty sure she remembered where it was and so quietly steered Rose into the city and onto the streets of the shinning walled city. People bustles about here and there with their own tasks occasionally looking up at the duo passing by and careful to keep out of the way of the horses as they picked their way through the streets.

Fortunately the little shop wasn't clear across the city but it did require some travel before she would spotted the little sign that swung lightly to and fro.

While following the Aes Sedai's direction, letting her steer their little urban expedition through the boroughs of Tar Valon, Cahallan and Marcador kept nearly neck and neck with the smaller horse and rider. Iron shod hooves clipped sharp and heavy tones on the cobbles beneath, Cahallan astride with the casual demeanor of one raised in the saddle. Passers-by varied from commoners, merchants, and even the occasional noble. Each of them, even the guardsmen with their muskets or halberds, made way for the Aes Sedai and what they could only assume was her warder.

Cahallan had one hand at the reins with the other resting at his right hip, bracing his sword against the gradual sway of Marcador's swaggering trot.

Even after all this time it was odd to see people giving such respect to her, even if it might be grudgingly at times. Did she deserve it? she wasn't sure but one thing she was certain of now. No one deserved to be treated as she had. She pulled Rose to a stop in front of the little shop and peered through the window unsure if she'd see Siofra inside from this vantage point, or if her friend had changed her mind and gone else where. She was unsure if she should dismount and go inside to see or... what should she do? The feeling of uncertainty was great, and the eyes of the people around them made her nervous gripping the reigns tightly for a moment as she breathed slowly.

She let out a relived breath when she spotted the familier figure inside and her decision was made for her then. She looked Cahallan and gently gestured to the little shop to indicate her friend was inside. She turned Rose to approach closer to the shop before she prepared to dismount glancing down at the ground far below her and paused. She'd be less then graceful if she tried to dismount on her own with her stature and that would be very unbecoming Aes Sedai she realized with some discomfort as her only option then was to wait for aid.

Pulling Marcador up to a halt, Cahallan dismounted fluidly and hitched the reins at one of the lacquered iron posts stationed outside. He was about to head inside the tailors when he noticed Senay was still perched on her saddle.

Not wanting to seem demanding she waited quietly before motioning to Cahallan sheepishly for help. It was clear she didn't think she deserved such treatment but was willing ask, after all he had been very kind to her thus far she hopped he did not mind. Cahallan's mouth curled in that reserved, tight-lipped smile of his and eased her off the mare as gently as if he was handling a fine Andoran tea set. Once she was safely on the ground she once again wove a short thanks just for his eyes before she would turn to the shop door.

"Think nothing of it," Cahallan said in a low, rumbling whisper. "It looked like quite the drop for you." There was the slightest hint of sardonic humor in his voice, but his expression had resumed that implacable mask.

Siofra had been fortunate enough to find a pair of ready made breeches that fit almost perfectly with just a few minor adjustments. Of coarse she got a few funny and even judgmental looks but no one was about to tell an Aes Sedai her business, she supposed that was the greatest part of this position. everyone else minded their own business! They were a nice soft tan that went well her forest green blouse and new shawl. She'd wasted no time replacing her soft slippers with a pair of sturdy ridding boots and looked just about ready to ride off on a new adventure. She cocked her head back from her observations when she heard the door open, her golden eyes flickering to the door and a broad grin followed. "Senay! you came." She said approaching her friend in quick strides, her previous attire was hung over her arm, after all she wouldn't hear the end of it if she got rid of it.

But light was it so much nicer to be free in a pair of pants! The tiny yellow sister was drawn into a sudden embrace, but these things no longer surprised her. "A big step! I'm so proud of you! coming out here all on your own." Senay gently pushed away from her friends embrace putting up her hands the glowing letters appearing. "Actually..."

The Warder had slipped through the door in Senay's wake, making it through the threshold before the door had closed. Inside, the tailor's was a vibrant kaleidoscope of vibrant prismatic colors and the glitter of threaded gold and silver. A far-flung affair from the earth tones of the Gaidin, and the people inside surely took notice. Cahallan's riding boots were caked with mud and dirt, leaving a faint trail through the showroom as he closed the distance between him and Senay with the easy stride of a tiger. Seeing the ember-glow scrawl of Senay's speech, Cahallan drew himself to attention, gold glancing into gold.

"Gaidin Cahallan Besklavren, Aes Sedai," he said with full propriety, dipping in a subtle nod and bow. "It was not my intent to intrude, merely provide Senay Sedai an escort... and escape the drills for some fresh air."

The smell of moist earth and sweat wafted in from beyond the yellow sister, but what made Siofra truly straighten was the familier scent that accompanied it. A gold stare met her own making the women blink in surprise, taken back. The scent had always been catching, maybe even telling but she didn't actually think she'd see another set of golden eyes staring back at her that weren't her own.

During that electric pause, Cahallan's eyes briefly traversed Wolfsister from head to toe. Not a hungry glance, but one of silent appraisal. The warder took note of her bearing, build, and attire, compiling the visual information together and forming a mental summary. Vastly different than Senay, who was mousy and demure, Siofra was tall and well built with an air of confidence. A moment later, golden eyes met again and locked. There was a faint familiarity, there. He'd seen those eyes, but not in the human face before him.

Senay looked between the two at the stretch of silence that lasted only a moment before a mischievous smile quirked on Siofra's lips as she once again drew Senay into a tight hug. "You made a friend all on your own, that really is a big step for you." Her golden eyes glanced down into Senay's ocean blue pools, clearly quite proud of the younger women, making her flush but weather from the praise or embarrassment was difficult to say. Siofra once again straightened even with her playful smile an air of curiosity was strong about her as she looked Cahallan up and down. "The more company the merrier." She said brushing some of her short hair out of her eyes before crossing her arms. "Siofra Al'tare. It's a pleasure to meet you Gaidin Cahallan."

A Gaidin, and one like her no less. Fiava's words came back to her, as she'd been contemplating them on the way up here. This curiosity was many burning question. There were others like her, she'd known this but to think she'd meet another one.. well maybe she just never thought she'd get the chance. So many things she wanted to know but she kept her questions quite behind her smiling lips.

Dipping again in a modest bow, logging the name away. The surname nagged quietly in the back of his mind, some detail half-remembered from his schooling among Malkier's many towers as the scion of a noble house.

"The pleasure and the honor is mine, Siofra Sedai," he said, his hands clasped imperiously at the small of his back. There was another pause, the warder unsure how else to continue in such a public theater. "Do let me know when you are ready to depart, Aes Sedai. I am at your disposal."

Oh the formalities of public appearances, the song and dance of properness. "Well, Since your offering, I'm certainly finished here." She said before turning her golden eyes to Senay. "Is there anything in the city that you require?" She asked. Senay was silent for a moment as she mused before she finely shook her head. "No? well I'm sure Rose is eager for a good ride about the country." She turned her gaze back to the golden eyed wader before her. "I have no doubt your noble steed would enjoy it just as much. What say you?" she asked with a playful glint. "Care for some fresher air beyond the city walls?" She carefully folded her clothing in her arms as she moved for the door.

Cahallan took a moment to consider, his mouth working as if he was actually chewing on his words, and they were all gristle. Looking from the two Aes Sedai to the horses outside, Cahallan saw Marcador fussing with Rose Gold's reins. Gallant for a stinking animal, Cahallan thought. Though, he was certain the damned horse thought the same thing about him. Clearing his throat, he looked back to the Aes Sedai, ultimately following her as she made her way out the door.

"Ah," Cahallan grunted. The question was simple courtesy. "I would be remiss if I didn't, madame." The warder's lengthy stride covered the distance in space with ease. He flicked his finger at the velvety bulb of Marcador's nose.

"I cannot turn my back on you for a Light-Burned minute, can I?" Cahallan grumbled, taking the stallion's bridle and shoving the massive head of the creature away from the mare. Glancing down at Senay, that same glint of humor flickered behind his eyes,

"Do you require assistance again, Senay Sedai? With whom will you be riding?"

"Quite the charmer isn't he? Dose he take after his master or is it all his own?" Siofra with amusement asked as she opened up the saddle bag to carefully place her things inside, arranging it so Senay's books were easy accessible. Rose didn't seem at all bothered by the attention even nickered, perhaps in protest leaning her head around to bump the warder before Siofra reached over and gently tugged on her reigns. "Quite you spoiled thing." She chided the mare quietly. She was one to talk, she didn't suppose she could really tell her to behave herself like a lady when she herself was so reluctant to do so.

She took hold of the saddle and swung herself up and settled herself comfortably in and smiling down at her friend as Cahallan about whom she would ride with on the way out. The small women's face flushed again under the twin golden gazes. It was uncanny how similar they seemed right then. Senay quietly nodded in answer to his question to assistance before moving over to the mare, She felt most comfortable with Siofra. Sitting with Cahallan on top of Marcador would surly make her look like a child and what a sight that would be.

Once Senay was safely atop Rose behind the green sister Siofra turned Rose gold around, hooves clipping the cobble as as she made way for the nearest gate.

[Highland Sniper]

Theus was waiting for her by the entrance to the shooting range, leaning casually against the wall in the shadows and absently tossing a small dagger into the air, catching it by the hilt each time. Humming an old song under his breath, the blonde man appeared extremely relaxed although Emer knew better - the captain of her uncle’s guard was surveying the whole alleyway as well as ‘feeling’ what was happening around him. The easiness with which he flipped his dagger was a rouse, meant to throw those around him off balance and to show their true intentions if they were dumb enough. Sighing, the girl adjusted her cloak and dragged the quiver over to the man.

“Good practice?” Theus raised an eyebrow, continuing to toss his weapon, though his eyes were now focused on the young woman. Emer’s gaze followed the flying blade before she made a face and tossed him her practice weapons.

“Let’s just go home,” she growled, starting down the street, ignoring the chuckle that the captain allowed himself, hoisting the quiver onto his shoulder in a fluent motion. Striding down the street, he easily kept up with Emer, allowing her to fume in silence. It wasn’t that the practice was bad, necessarily but something was nagging in the back of her mind, something she couldn’t quite place and it affected her aim. She missed the target more often than she had in months and managed to snap her bowstring, needing to resort to her old backup. That meant that she would not be returning for some time before she found another caravan from Saldaea to acquire a new string. It was a silly superstition but she only wielded weapons from her home country.

Crossing one of the squares within Carhein, she stopped to look at her reflection in the fountain at the center of the open space, surrounded by small trees around the perimeter. Two angry green eyes stared back at her, flushed cheeks and furrowed brows, her braid no longer perfect and hanging off one shoulder. Growling, she splashed her reflection and turned away, crossing her arms.

By this point, Jin had just arrived in town as it was starting to get late.
He looked over when he heard the splash and saw the man flipping the knife.
"Everything ok?" He asked, gun still strapped to his shoulder.
He had just rounded the corner.
His starting to sport light stubble, his leather jacket still hung just past his knees and a red piece of cloth kept some of his relatively short hair out of his face.

Emer looked up, ready to yell at Theus and let go of her frustration but the eyes that now looked into hers were not the bright blue ones she knew so well. Storm grey eyes and reddish hair that fell over them even as it has held back by a rather dusty and used bandana. A rifle strapped over one shoulder and tanned skin signaling many days of travel. Frowning, she turned to look at Theus, standing a bit away and quietly observing, a sign that he didn’t see the youth as a threat. Her own actions made her huff in frustration - since when did she need the older man to decide whom she was to trust?!

“Quite, just an unfortunate start to the day,” Emer responded, sitting on the edge of the fountain and looking up at the young man, tilting her head. “The Wheel spins not in my favor today apparently.”

"I see. I can understand, I've had my share of rough times." Jin said with a slight smile. "I still have the scar from the last guy who tried to cut out my entrails for my coin purse.” He gave a small chuckle at the thought.

Jin tensed as in eerie feeling washed over him. A not good someone was watching them. He tried to keep his smile loose, but he knew that he had given a small, involuntary flinch.
He knew the feeling, and he wasn't going to let it slide. But who were they after?

Jin took a closer look at the man and the girl, taking in their clothes.
A noble's daughter and a guard if he ever saw one.
"Forgive me." He said. "If I may introduce myself. Im Jin Al'Vizear, at your service"

Emer started to undo her braid as he spoke, an amused smile playing on her lips. A traveler with a rare sense of humour. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Theus roll his eyes to the sky as the youth retold his story, making it known to her what exactly he thought of men who boasted useless tales. Ignoring the captain for the time being, the young noblewoman smiled as the young man introduced himself. Looking at him closely, she assumed he was close to her in age. Why was he on the road?

“A pleasure to meet you Jin,” standing up, Emer dusted off the skirts of her practice dress, a long tunic with slits that allowed her the freedom of movement most found in breeches. Body hugging breeches and tall boots complimented the outfit, daggers strapped to her belt. It had always been a compromise between her desire to dress as a warrior and her uncle’s wishes to see her as a proper young lady of noble blood. Over the years, this was the conclusion they came to.

“Likewise.” he said with a small nod. He cast a concerned glance over to the supposed guard, hoping he would catch the glance and understand that there was something off. “It’s a fine day, isn’t it? The weather has been nice for a while now.” he cast another worried glance at the guy.

The feeling of danger was getting to great for comfort, and he resisted the urge to put his hands as close to his rifle as possible and started thinking about what the next move might be. Being the guy with the gun, he would be more dangerous at range provided he could get off a shot. The bigger man seemed more intimidating, but only had a dagger, making Jin think he knew what he was doing. If this was a nobleman’s daughter, and if what he heard was true, she would be the end goal. He would just have to see what happened.

“Emer, we should go,” Theus came closer, shooting the youth a disinterested look. The young woman was about to snap but taking a closer look at her companion shrugged and smiled back at Jin.

“The weather has been good, especially considering Spring tends to be rather temperamental. I wish you luck, young traveler, wherever your journey takes you,” Taking one last look at the kid, Emer started down the path, the captain following her as he adjusted the quiver on his back, his senses on high alert. Something was happening in the city and the warrior outright didn’t like it.

Jin let out a sigh as his senses seemed to ease with their leaving. But he couldn't help feeling like he should help.

He looked around to see if he might find something out of place, or anyone still watching. Finding nothing, he figured whoever they were was good and had already left to follow the two.

He looked around to find an easy way onto the rooftops. Finding one, he quickly climbed up to catch a glimpse of something moving over the peak of another house. He perused it in that direction. Finding it to look like a dark blob with legs as the figure wore some sort of cloak. He continued to follow.

“Theus, you do realize I need no babysitter to walk around the city?” Emer raised an eyebrow as the pair continued on. The guard beside her nodded absently, his long stride covering ground with some purpose that made the girl frown. Something about the way the blonde man was looking around, seemingly looking for trouble, caused Emer to shake her head. “Really? You think someone will simply attack in broad daylight in this part of town?”


“There has been some unrest lately,” Theus shrugged but he slowed his pace to match hers. “I don’t want to be unprepared and see you hurt.”

“You act as though I am helpless,” Emer crossed her arms over her chest as a troubled silence fell between them. The girl found herself looking around as well, preparing just in case something happened. A few moments later, she scolded herself. Too much trouble for anyone in this part of town where each house had their own guards and would come to assist should a robbery or other issue were to break out. Sighing, she was about to mention this to Theus but thought better of it. Instead, she let her mind go back to archery practice and the stranger that they encountered on the square.

Jin was still in hot pursuit of the cloaked figure when he stopped just on the other side of the roof. Jin got low on his side to help prevent himself from being seen.
The cloaked figure seemed to be waiting for the pair to get close, they must have certainly passed them as they ran across the rooftops.
Jin waited as did the cloaked figure.

[Highland Sniper]

He couldn't figure what the figure was doing besides waiting. he was beginning to think he hadn't been spotted when his whole body started to buzz with danger.
so, wither he was about to do something stupid, or someone was about to kill him.
he grabbed his rifle, shifted his grip on it, and rolled to the side as he swung his rifle like a big club. he ended up catching a hooded man in the ribs as he was coming down with a knife.

the man doubled over with the possibly cracked ribs he had just reserved. he breathed heavily.
"alright. give me one good reason not to blow your brains out right now?" he asked.
"because I work for the dragon." was the response.

this sort of threw Jin off a little. he knew very little of that whole thing, but he did know that there was a few heirs to the throne of the dragon that were fighting over it.

"Which one?" he asked, pointing the gun to his head.

"the one who made that gun your using." he wheezed.

"thank you." he said. "but that's not good enough."

after saying this, he clubbed the guy in the head, knocking him out.
"you'll feel that in the morning."

he turned back to the other one. he was gone, he must have moved.