As it always was with such things, it all happened very fast.
They were pressed in on all sides by Trollocs, fighting with sword and saidar. The Gaidin called the move to break free, and so they did, rushing their horses headlong back towards the fort. Yet it was always the little things. Always the small things. In this instance, it was an arrow and a single slice across her. The arrowhead severed fabric and bit into her skin.
It shouldn't have been a big deal, but that one cut leeched poison into her blood. It took hold fast, too. It seemed only the space of a few heartbeats before it was all she could do to cling to Seren's neck.
See me home, she thought to him as she weaved in and out of the world around her. At some points, it was clear as crystal and at other times it was dim and hazy, while others times still it was nothing but the cold and the blackness. She was aware of the horse's hooves thundering beneath her. Somehow, she had a sense of the fortress as they entered.
Clear, and dim, and black. Black, and dim, and clear. It waved before her like a nauseating mirage, figures nothing but shadows with strange halos of light. Ghosts of the dead seemed to taunt her, or did they sing to her? As she fell from the saddle, she couldn't tell anymore. She knew she did not hit the ground, but was sure of little else.
A woman was speaking, but her words were part of the burning tapestry being woven around the Amyrlin Seat of the Grey Tower. She tried to claw her way to better consciousness, wanting to know what was going on around her. Thump. Thump. Thump. Everything was fire on her skin. She wrestled a breath into her lungs and forced her eyes open.
Sojin was looking down at her. Were there...tears? Or was it the shimmering haze covering her eyes? She couldn't tell. He touched her face as she began to shiver. Death comes again. Was I brought back only to die here? The thought echoed in her mind like a bell. Thump. Thump. Thump.
...this, but I love you Mi...
Her spirit reeled from the poison coursing through her. Had she understood him correctly?
...carefully, you must bond m...y strength so tha...ight be anchored to this worl...live, burn you, and that's a flaming or...
Somehow, saidar still lingered at the tips of her fingers. Live. He wanted her to live. Her spirit was failing, and she knew it. There was an awareness that there was more to this, there should be more to this, but the word "live" echoed in her skull. Thump. Thump. Thump. A moment. A split second. A heart beat.
Threads of Spirit danced around her. With the last feeling of strength she could summon, the One Power coalesced into a weave she had used only four times in over a hundred and fifty years. Ryne... Darien... Toseth... Caden...
Sojin.
The bonding weave settled upon him, and she gasped for the return of a sensation it had been so long since she felt, that she never had imagined to feel again, as it mixed with the ill corrupting her and she drew on him to remember who she was, and where she was, and that she needed to live.
Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
Sojin held his breath in the few seconds between his last words and what occurred next. He did not know whether Miahala had heard him or if she was slipping further and further from this world.
Light pray that I was not too late …
That thought ended with the beginning of a deep sensation that assaulted his body and coursed through his veins. The world suddenly erupted in a ball of emotions and a heightened sense of awareness.
There were two sets of people in his head: himself and Miahala. And all too soon after that, he felt that tiny knot of emotions fighting between life and death. He also felt … a foreign source attempt to root itself in and hallow her out, as if leaching her soul bit by bit.
Not this day, not this Aes Sedai. Not if he had anything to say about it.
“I will come as you say come and go as you say go,” he whispered, repeating the old oath spoken in Tar Valon. “I will draw as you say draw and sheathe as you say sheathe. I will serve you as Warder until you release me or death take me."
He caressed her hair, all too aware now that he was tiring. True to his word, he acted as an anchor, providing strength for his Aes Sedai.
“Until death takes me, not you, Miahala,” he murmured. “So do as you've always done and fight.”
The world began to blur and he could feel the onset of unconsciousness, but one hand reached for his sword hilt at the sound of footsteps.
A iron grip stopped him and he looked up to see a pair of gold-green eyes stare back at him.
“A circle … get Geoffrey, Aeryn, Zae, Cassie … we do not have long.”
- - -
Jerid Walker The small but powerful circle of Aes Sedai and Asha'man had spent what felt like hours surrounding the Amyrlin Seat during a Healing session in her quarters at the hold. While he had initiated the circle, the Indigo Asha'man had immediately relinquished control to Aeryn Sedai, a Yellow and one of the Tower's more gifted Healers.
Most of his mind during the Healing session had focused on just that, providing Aeryn with the strength he had left. The Yellow had insisted on returning Amyrlin Seat back to the Grey Tower and the Infirmary — a feat easily done by way of Traveling — but Jerid had forbid it. The older Asha'man would not risk moving her too far, even if it were through a gateway.
Especially not after what had just occurred between her and his son, who had been transferred to an adjacent room.
Only twice in Jerid Walker's long life had he been part of a Healing this intense. One person had died despite the exceptional skill of the Healers, and the second nearly died as well. The weapons forged in Thakan'dar were worse than most poisons that man or nature could produce, nearly as deadly as the ritual to turn a channeler to the Shadow.
That had been hours ago, and Jerid sat watch over an all-but-nude Amyrlin Seat, after Aeryn had insisted on treating the now healed arrow graze with conventional methods just to bolster her strength.
She rested, if any rest could be garnered following her ordeal, covered by a number of blankets. Jerid's mind raced over the events of the last day. His hand gripped the staff of cinnabar-colored wood in one hand, an item of extraordinary strength created long ago by Liam Dakred Asha'man. The ter'angreal was a powerful one he kept locked away in the Sixth Vaults, for it bore all the traits of a powerful Earthsinger.
The Trollocs had not been able to withstand its might combined with the strength of more than a dozen of the Tower's powerful channelers. Aes Sedai and Asha'man from the Blue, Green, Yellow, Indigo and Red Ajahs had answered his call within an hour of receiving the note from the Caralain.
He smiled. Balen, for whatever rift had widened between them, had made sure to send the letter before he left Walker Manor with four hundred soldiers for this tiny outpost. Most of the channelers now rested, and those that had recovered quickly were helping to shore up the damage done to the outpost in previous assaults.
He felt along the bond, knowing that Lysira was outside Miahala's quarters, standing guard. Sojin rested still in an adjacent room, overseen now by Aeryn to ensure he was not taxed too much.
He looked at the sleeping Green and he found himself at a crossroads. He had found himself in a similar predicament nearly thirty years ago, with another Green of similar temperament but very different merits and his own son. He had been a different man then, more understanding of certain things.
Now, this was different. Now he had to weigh a decision made by the Amyrlin Seat, and do so either as an Ajah Head or as a friend.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Jerid saw Miahala stir. He saw those blue-green eyes open and he waited for them to adjust.
“He is resting in another room, Mother,” Jerid said quietly, not moving from his seat. He calmly placed the staff against the wall next to him and threaded his hands together. “The Trollocs have been destroyed and there are no signs of another horde. The Fades that were driving this particular force are but piles of ash.”
He leaned forward, his eyes not on the Aes Sedai, but staring ahead at the door. “You will need time to recover fully, Mother,” he said emotionlessly. “Enough that you will be at least a day here, by Aeryn Sedai's order. I doubt even the M'Hael could counter that ruling.”
His gaze landed on Miahala then and it was hard. The eyes behind the youthful face betrayed his age, and not for the first time in 150 years, he was forced to consider his actions.
Saidin flooded him like fire and ice, and he seized the storm to weave a Ward surrounding the room keep sound contained without a gesture. He had long overcome the need for such things to guide his weaves.
“I have half a mind to bring you back shielded and place you before the Hall of Sitters to judge your sanity, Miahala Ives; Light, but shielded and in irons,” he said sharply. “And for once, I would be forced to call for that vote.”
Then he stood, still holding the Source. Even with an angreal, Jerid on a normal day could not match Miahala. She was one of the most powerful channelers in the Tower's history. As far as experience as battle-hardened channelers went, she could still burn him to a crisp despite both their considerable skill.
On this one occasion, however, Jerid had the advantage: He had not been at death's door, and he was angry.
“I only ever knew one other person at your level who acted in such a way as you did,” he said. “Lucan was a bright man who had one failing: he was overconfident in his ability and he thought himself untouchable. His corpse said otherwise the day it was found. I thought you had more sense than that.”
Light pray that I was not too late …
That thought ended with the beginning of a deep sensation that assaulted his body and coursed through his veins. The world suddenly erupted in a ball of emotions and a heightened sense of awareness.
There were two sets of people in his head: himself and Miahala. And all too soon after that, he felt that tiny knot of emotions fighting between life and death. He also felt … a foreign source attempt to root itself in and hallow her out, as if leaching her soul bit by bit.
Not this day, not this Aes Sedai. Not if he had anything to say about it.
“I will come as you say come and go as you say go,” he whispered, repeating the old oath spoken in Tar Valon. “I will draw as you say draw and sheathe as you say sheathe. I will serve you as Warder until you release me or death take me."
He caressed her hair, all too aware now that he was tiring. True to his word, he acted as an anchor, providing strength for his Aes Sedai.
“Until death takes me, not you, Miahala,” he murmured. “So do as you've always done and fight.”
The world began to blur and he could feel the onset of unconsciousness, but one hand reached for his sword hilt at the sound of footsteps.
A iron grip stopped him and he looked up to see a pair of gold-green eyes stare back at him.
“A circle … get Geoffrey, Aeryn, Zae, Cassie … we do not have long.”
- - -
Jerid Walker The small but powerful circle of Aes Sedai and Asha'man had spent what felt like hours surrounding the Amyrlin Seat during a Healing session in her quarters at the hold. While he had initiated the circle, the Indigo Asha'man had immediately relinquished control to Aeryn Sedai, a Yellow and one of the Tower's more gifted Healers.
Most of his mind during the Healing session had focused on just that, providing Aeryn with the strength he had left. The Yellow had insisted on returning Amyrlin Seat back to the Grey Tower and the Infirmary — a feat easily done by way of Traveling — but Jerid had forbid it. The older Asha'man would not risk moving her too far, even if it were through a gateway.
Especially not after what had just occurred between her and his son, who had been transferred to an adjacent room.
Only twice in Jerid Walker's long life had he been part of a Healing this intense. One person had died despite the exceptional skill of the Healers, and the second nearly died as well. The weapons forged in Thakan'dar were worse than most poisons that man or nature could produce, nearly as deadly as the ritual to turn a channeler to the Shadow.
That had been hours ago, and Jerid sat watch over an all-but-nude Amyrlin Seat, after Aeryn had insisted on treating the now healed arrow graze with conventional methods just to bolster her strength.
She rested, if any rest could be garnered following her ordeal, covered by a number of blankets. Jerid's mind raced over the events of the last day. His hand gripped the staff of cinnabar-colored wood in one hand, an item of extraordinary strength created long ago by Liam Dakred Asha'man. The ter'angreal was a powerful one he kept locked away in the Sixth Vaults, for it bore all the traits of a powerful Earthsinger.
The Trollocs had not been able to withstand its might combined with the strength of more than a dozen of the Tower's powerful channelers. Aes Sedai and Asha'man from the Blue, Green, Yellow, Indigo and Red Ajahs had answered his call within an hour of receiving the note from the Caralain.
He smiled. Balen, for whatever rift had widened between them, had made sure to send the letter before he left Walker Manor with four hundred soldiers for this tiny outpost. Most of the channelers now rested, and those that had recovered quickly were helping to shore up the damage done to the outpost in previous assaults.
He felt along the bond, knowing that Lysira was outside Miahala's quarters, standing guard. Sojin rested still in an adjacent room, overseen now by Aeryn to ensure he was not taxed too much.
He looked at the sleeping Green and he found himself at a crossroads. He had found himself in a similar predicament nearly thirty years ago, with another Green of similar temperament but very different merits and his own son. He had been a different man then, more understanding of certain things.
Now, this was different. Now he had to weigh a decision made by the Amyrlin Seat, and do so either as an Ajah Head or as a friend.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Jerid saw Miahala stir. He saw those blue-green eyes open and he waited for them to adjust.
“He is resting in another room, Mother,” Jerid said quietly, not moving from his seat. He calmly placed the staff against the wall next to him and threaded his hands together. “The Trollocs have been destroyed and there are no signs of another horde. The Fades that were driving this particular force are but piles of ash.”
He leaned forward, his eyes not on the Aes Sedai, but staring ahead at the door. “You will need time to recover fully, Mother,” he said emotionlessly. “Enough that you will be at least a day here, by Aeryn Sedai's order. I doubt even the M'Hael could counter that ruling.”
His gaze landed on Miahala then and it was hard. The eyes behind the youthful face betrayed his age, and not for the first time in 150 years, he was forced to consider his actions.
Saidin flooded him like fire and ice, and he seized the storm to weave a Ward surrounding the room keep sound contained without a gesture. He had long overcome the need for such things to guide his weaves.
“I have half a mind to bring you back shielded and place you before the Hall of Sitters to judge your sanity, Miahala Ives; Light, but shielded and in irons,” he said sharply. “And for once, I would be forced to call for that vote.”
Then he stood, still holding the Source. Even with an angreal, Jerid on a normal day could not match Miahala. She was one of the most powerful channelers in the Tower's history. As far as experience as battle-hardened channelers went, she could still burn him to a crisp despite both their considerable skill.
On this one occasion, however, Jerid had the advantage: He had not been at death's door, and he was angry.
“I only ever knew one other person at your level who acted in such a way as you did,” he said. “Lucan was a bright man who had one failing: he was overconfident in his ability and he thought himself untouchable. His corpse said otherwise the day it was found. I thought you had more sense than that.”
Jerid Walker Asha'man
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
-
Bella
- Female Channeller Representative
- Posts: 5616
- Joined: April 14th, 2015, 11:28 pm
- PC: Miahala Darrow Sedai
- SC: Lysira Viathene Gaidin
- TC: Gareth Tomosan Asha'man
- QC: Natlya Cade Gaidin
- QC: Andraste Alhandra Sedai
- Location: New England
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
Mia had hoped, obviously to no avail, to have been spared this particular trial for a little while longer. She gave her old friend the courtesy of impassive listening. At one point, she made to sit up. A glance under the blankets revealed the efforts of her caretakers with her dirty clothing and she sighed in annoyance. Light, but was she tired...yet no fatigue could mute her stubbornness. Or her pride.
Or the bittersweet feeling in her chest when she felt that beautiful knot in her mind. When we go home, I'll have to let him go... She recalled the words she thought she'd heard, but he didn't want to be a warder, or at the Tower. He had saved her life, but she would not hold him against his will.
Yet the thought tore her apart inside, and that melancholy washed away her pride and stubbornness; her righteous indignation with the Indigo; even that little inner voice of derision.
"This was not intended, my friend," she whispered, staring at the wall behind which Sojin lay. "I just wanted to see my family. But it is not in me to forsake those in need, Jerid. It is not how I am built. I justify myself to no one." Her voice grew at first hard and then softened again, though her eyes never moved. "But I explain myself to you." He need not speak of Lucan; she knew what that man was, and had been there for his fall. "The Tower would survive my death, but I did not come here to seek it. I came to seek my life... And I found it, for a time."
And now, she'd have to let it go. "Do as you must. You always have. But I will return without further issue and resume the stole without further need to reaffirm my life." I won't find it again.
Or the bittersweet feeling in her chest when she felt that beautiful knot in her mind. When we go home, I'll have to let him go... She recalled the words she thought she'd heard, but he didn't want to be a warder, or at the Tower. He had saved her life, but she would not hold him against his will.
Yet the thought tore her apart inside, and that melancholy washed away her pride and stubbornness; her righteous indignation with the Indigo; even that little inner voice of derision.
"This was not intended, my friend," she whispered, staring at the wall behind which Sojin lay. "I just wanted to see my family. But it is not in me to forsake those in need, Jerid. It is not how I am built. I justify myself to no one." Her voice grew at first hard and then softened again, though her eyes never moved. "But I explain myself to you." He need not speak of Lucan; she knew what that man was, and had been there for his fall. "The Tower would survive my death, but I did not come here to seek it. I came to seek my life... And I found it, for a time."
And now, she'd have to let it go. "Do as you must. You always have. But I will return without further issue and resume the stole without further need to reaffirm my life." I won't find it again.
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
There were few things that could sway Jerid Walker from his course once his mind was made up. Not even Amora could do that … but her granddaughter could.
After all, it had been Liana, along with Lembirt and Caithlin, who had persuaded him to bond a Warder before he returned to the Caralain more than a decade ago.
Miahala … she was perhaps one of the other things that could sway him. Perhaps it was a shared camaraderie among fellow soldiers, or a shared suffering among those who lost so much to the Shadow.
“Burn you, Ives,” he muttered, suddenly disarmed.
His eyes fell landed on the blanketed Amyrlin Seat and he moved forward, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“You might have come to seek your life, old friend,” he murmured. “But your actions nearly caused your death. The Tower can afford to lose an Amyrlin Seat, but it cannot afford to lose you.”
“Destruction of a Waygate entrance this close to the Blightborder is an admirable think, Miahala, but you should have known to send for reinforcements before riding out to certain danger,” he said. “What if there had been a trap and you were captured, and taken before a circle to be turned?”
His eyes hardened briefly at that particular scenario. He had been forced to decide once whether to rescue a Green Sitter from a similar fate or bring the ruined building she had been held prisoner for the ritual down around everyone's ears.
His eyes flickered toward Sojin's room. It was because of his son that he had chosen the former, and with the support of several channelers.
“After all, you were not alone when the final blow was dealt to the Fiery Serpent before you and Caden Ives vanished into the night all those years ago,” Jerid added, a small, bittersweet smile flirting across his face. “It is perhaps good that you were not alone this time around, or I would bring you back in irons.”
Jerid gestured toward the other room. “As far as what you face now, I would tell you it will be an … interesting road ahead, but we both know neither of us needs to be told that,” he murmured.
He stood and added, “As for going back to the Tower, you will do precisely that, after you've seen to your business here in Saldaea, and I trust you and your Warder to return to the Grey Tower within a week from the day you leave this outpost,” he murmured. “As for this place … the new members of my House's family are leaving a contingent of 50 soldiers here with a raken until supplies from Maradon reach here.”
Jerid was less than thrilled with the idea of having a small force of Seanchan anywhere in the Westlands, let alone at the Blightborder, but they had proven loyal to House Walker so far and he could not so easily dismiss the good they did here over the past few days.
He looked back to Mia, as if daring her to defy the terms.
After all, it had been Liana, along with Lembirt and Caithlin, who had persuaded him to bond a Warder before he returned to the Caralain more than a decade ago.
Miahala … she was perhaps one of the other things that could sway him. Perhaps it was a shared camaraderie among fellow soldiers, or a shared suffering among those who lost so much to the Shadow.
“Burn you, Ives,” he muttered, suddenly disarmed.
His eyes fell landed on the blanketed Amyrlin Seat and he moved forward, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“You might have come to seek your life, old friend,” he murmured. “But your actions nearly caused your death. The Tower can afford to lose an Amyrlin Seat, but it cannot afford to lose you.”
“Destruction of a Waygate entrance this close to the Blightborder is an admirable think, Miahala, but you should have known to send for reinforcements before riding out to certain danger,” he said. “What if there had been a trap and you were captured, and taken before a circle to be turned?”
His eyes hardened briefly at that particular scenario. He had been forced to decide once whether to rescue a Green Sitter from a similar fate or bring the ruined building she had been held prisoner for the ritual down around everyone's ears.
His eyes flickered toward Sojin's room. It was because of his son that he had chosen the former, and with the support of several channelers.
“After all, you were not alone when the final blow was dealt to the Fiery Serpent before you and Caden Ives vanished into the night all those years ago,” Jerid added, a small, bittersweet smile flirting across his face. “It is perhaps good that you were not alone this time around, or I would bring you back in irons.”
Jerid gestured toward the other room. “As far as what you face now, I would tell you it will be an … interesting road ahead, but we both know neither of us needs to be told that,” he murmured.
He stood and added, “As for going back to the Tower, you will do precisely that, after you've seen to your business here in Saldaea, and I trust you and your Warder to return to the Grey Tower within a week from the day you leave this outpost,” he murmured. “As for this place … the new members of my House's family are leaving a contingent of 50 soldiers here with a raken until supplies from Maradon reach here.”
Jerid was less than thrilled with the idea of having a small force of Seanchan anywhere in the Westlands, let alone at the Blightborder, but they had proven loyal to House Walker so far and he could not so easily dismiss the good they did here over the past few days.
He looked back to Mia, as if daring her to defy the terms.
Jerid Walker Asha'man
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
-
Bella
- Female Channeller Representative
- Posts: 5616
- Joined: April 14th, 2015, 11:28 pm
- PC: Miahala Darrow Sedai
- SC: Lysira Viathene Gaidin
- TC: Gareth Tomosan Asha'man
- QC: Natlya Cade Gaidin
- QC: Andraste Alhandra Sedai
- Location: New England
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
Her blue-green eyes finally returned to him then with unveiled, but equally unspoken, surprise. She had expected him to declare her return as soon as she was cleared to walk, and she had been prepared to do so. She was not sure she wished to visit her family now, broken as she felt. Was not now the perfect time to force herself back into place, when she had not the spirit with which to resist her obligation?
The Tower could survive her loss, they both knew that. It had done so once before and would again. She would not endure forever, then again...maybe she would, at that.
He was not wrong, but she wasn't going to say that...
"As you wish, my friend," was what she said instead. She had fought all she could for now--against trollocs, against poison, against herself--and she could fight no more. Not for the time being, at least, and not against her friend. "I am...sorry. And I thank you, truly." Her intent gaze, though wearied, was settled entirely on him now.
The Tower could survive her loss, they both knew that. It had done so once before and would again. She would not endure forever, then again...maybe she would, at that.
He was not wrong, but she wasn't going to say that...
"As you wish, my friend," was what she said instead. She had fought all she could for now--against trollocs, against poison, against herself--and she could fight no more. Not for the time being, at least, and not against her friend. "I am...sorry. And I thank you, truly." Her intent gaze, though wearied, was settled entirely on him now.
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
Jerid moved forward and kissed the Green on her forehead in brotherly affection.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, dear friend,” he murmured before turning. Part of him still wanted to cajole her back to the Grey Tower and watch over her like a hawk, but he knew better.
A caged lioness could a danger to herself and well … those who imprisoned it. Best to let her roam as she would.
“Miahala, one week, and you'll take your Warder with you,” he said. It was much a condition as a request. “If you return before then, then I'll do my best to ensure the Hall does not disturb you unless it's absolutely necessary.”
The Indigo released saidin, and with it the Ward against sound around the room.
“He'll make a fine Warder if you wish it,” Jerid murmured before leaving the room.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, dear friend,” he murmured before turning. Part of him still wanted to cajole her back to the Grey Tower and watch over her like a hawk, but he knew better.
A caged lioness could a danger to herself and well … those who imprisoned it. Best to let her roam as she would.
“Miahala, one week, and you'll take your Warder with you,” he said. It was much a condition as a request. “If you return before then, then I'll do my best to ensure the Hall does not disturb you unless it's absolutely necessary.”
The Indigo released saidin, and with it the Ward against sound around the room.
“He'll make a fine Warder if you wish it,” Jerid murmured before leaving the room.
Jerid Walker Asha'man
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
-
Bella
- Female Channeller Representative
- Posts: 5616
- Joined: April 14th, 2015, 11:28 pm
- PC: Miahala Darrow Sedai
- SC: Lysira Viathene Gaidin
- TC: Gareth Tomosan Asha'man
- QC: Natlya Cade Gaidin
- QC: Andraste Alhandra Sedai
- Location: New England
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
Mia had wished, almost desperately, for a few minutes alone again with Sojin, but that was not to be. All were too concerned with her health and so she was never not hovered over. She saw him, but never in a moment where she could actually speak to him. It was aggravating, and just postponed what she knew was coming.
Almost the instant that she was cleared to depart, she gathered her warder--for the moment--and did so. She nearly flew out of the fort, not even checking if he was behind her. Then again, she had the tether of Spirit between them so she did not need to look.
She chose to not return to her family, but had a messenger from the fort dispatched with a letter. She would come back at another time and avoid all incoming missives... Jerid had granted her one week before he unleashed chaos without her return, but she wanted the ride back; she wanted some time...
Just a few moments more. The eight colors bleeding down her stole loomed before her, but she could hold onto this for just a little bit longer.
They simply rode for a time, putting distance between them and the fort; them and the site of troubles. It had been late in the day, so they stopped to make camp for the night not very long after departure. Even with the break in between, the setting up of their camp returned to the rote as it had been on the way up.
Mia sat before the shallow pit and its pile of wood, she channeled a thin thread of fire and lit it. Staring into the flames, she felt...anxious, which was a feeling she had not felt in a long time. She'd barely felt nerves facing an entire camp of Trollocs in that valley below them, near death didn't make her anxious, but this did.
Like a teenager who couldn't keep themselves together, she decided to dive in. "Sojin," she began, staring into the flames. "Now that we finally have a few minutes alone... I..." By the Light, woman! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!
Mia took in a deep breath and looked up at the darkening sky. Turning to him, she smiled faintly. "I'm most grateful that you saved me, and gave me that anchor until help could arrive. I can't express the totality of my gratitude. But I know that you don't want the life of a warder, and don't even want a life in the Tower. You told me as much. You want to leave."
Her best attempts to veil her inward emotions from the bond cracked now, allowing chaos and sorrow free. "I will not hold you against your will," she continued, softly. "At your word, I will release the bond." Thump. Thump. Thump.
Almost the instant that she was cleared to depart, she gathered her warder--for the moment--and did so. She nearly flew out of the fort, not even checking if he was behind her. Then again, she had the tether of Spirit between them so she did not need to look.
She chose to not return to her family, but had a messenger from the fort dispatched with a letter. She would come back at another time and avoid all incoming missives... Jerid had granted her one week before he unleashed chaos without her return, but she wanted the ride back; she wanted some time...
Just a few moments more. The eight colors bleeding down her stole loomed before her, but she could hold onto this for just a little bit longer.
They simply rode for a time, putting distance between them and the fort; them and the site of troubles. It had been late in the day, so they stopped to make camp for the night not very long after departure. Even with the break in between, the setting up of their camp returned to the rote as it had been on the way up.
Mia sat before the shallow pit and its pile of wood, she channeled a thin thread of fire and lit it. Staring into the flames, she felt...anxious, which was a feeling she had not felt in a long time. She'd barely felt nerves facing an entire camp of Trollocs in that valley below them, near death didn't make her anxious, but this did.
Like a teenager who couldn't keep themselves together, she decided to dive in. "Sojin," she began, staring into the flames. "Now that we finally have a few minutes alone... I..." By the Light, woman! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!
Mia took in a deep breath and looked up at the darkening sky. Turning to him, she smiled faintly. "I'm most grateful that you saved me, and gave me that anchor until help could arrive. I can't express the totality of my gratitude. But I know that you don't want the life of a warder, and don't even want a life in the Tower. You told me as much. You want to leave."
Her best attempts to veil her inward emotions from the bond cracked now, allowing chaos and sorrow free. "I will not hold you against your will," she continued, softly. "At your word, I will release the bond." Thump. Thump. Thump.
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
Sojin's recovery was a little more prolonged than that of Miahala Sedai's, mostly because he had become a source for which she could stabilize herself during those crucial moments in the keep's courtyard.
As it stood, the silver-haired Gaidin had awaken in a start not two hours after Jerid Walker and most of his contingent left for the Grey Tower. Only the Yellow Aeryn Sedai remained, and she hovered over both him and the Amyrlin Seat for what seemed like an eternity.
What little time he did get to see Miahala was not time spent alone. And it was driving him insane, but whether it was the bond of emotions and awareness that was the Green Aes Sedai or his own … annoyance with his father for the words his father had apparently spoken to Miahala Sedai while he was unconscious.
Aeryn Sedai might have been loyal to the First Seeker, but she apparently held to a code of ethics that one did not keep such things from a Warder, especially one bonded to the Amyrlin Seat.
Despite the initial weariness, recovery came quick — quicker than normal thanks to the Warder Bond. While it was an advantageous benefit, the true value of the bond was sensing Miahala, namely her anxiousness to leave.
So it was that when Miahala announced her intention to ride out for the Grey Tower — apparently the long way around the First Seeker's deadline — he was already preparing Tsyn to ride out and ensuring everything was prepared for his Aes Sedai to do the same.
Balen Asha'man was there only briefly to send them off, with a nod to the silver-haired Gaidin and a bow to the Amyrlin Seat. In passing, the Grey Asha'man passed him a slender wrapped bundle and a letter, mentioned that he would be returning to the Caralain soon with the Seanchan and Caralain soldiers and kindly asked Sojin to pass on his best wishes to the Gaidin's younger half-brother.
The entire ride was quiet and somber, and Sojin could feel Miahala struggle with containing her emotions. He wanted to console or consult with her, but he also sensed a desire to move farther from the outpost.
So, the Gaidin respected her silent wishes, and from beneath his wide-brimmed hat, studied the folded and sealed letter. It was from his father, as obvious by the seal bearing three foxes, Jerid Asha'man's personal signet. He cracked the seal, read its contents and swore silently. He dared not unwrap the bundle while he rode for fear that he would fall off in a bout of anger lest he be surprised.
The brief time since then gave him time to reflect. His mind was given to the Void while he did so, and the events of the last few days sank in. The years as a soldier, as a calvary captain, as High Seat of House Walker — they never held a weight so heavy as that of a bonded Warder. Yes, the others held grave responsibilities, but being a Warder was something … more, something that even after years of training still required the right … instinct.
Be a Warder, Sojin Majere, a thought echoed. It was one part Balen Ashe Asha'man, one part a younger version the man who came to the Yards — with a Whitecloak arrow in his side while covering the escape of a young noblewoman slated for the Novice White.
His sapphire eyes shifted toward the Aes Sedai and he tilted his head. Oh, how times changed and people developed and shifted.
Camp was set up not too long after they left, and Sojin went about ensuring the meal was cooked, the horses looked after, the firewood gathered.
And suddenly the flood of emotions seemed to assail him in such a fashion that nearly reached for his nearby sword as if ready to defend the Aes Sedai from an unperceived assault.
Instead, he calmly placed the bundle he had received from Balen Asha'man down and looked quietly at Miahala. Whatever calm facade remained around the Aes Sedai seemed to splinter, and the world of emotions flowing across the bond made him … he couldn't put a word to what he felt.
Nor could he begin to find the words to immediately respond as he set aside the package he held.
So instead, he repositioned himself and planted his rear right next to Miahala on the bundle of wood. The silver-haired Gaidin grasped the Aes Sedai's hand and murmured, “Nor can I ever begin to express the relief that you are alive, Aes Sedai.”
His sapphire eyes danced as he came to a revelation. Here he was now at a crossroads: Flee as usual, or stay his ground. He had a thousand different voices tell him which both the most and least mistake: the Mistress of Arms during their tense conversations several weeks past, Balen's very blunt advice, even the gentle persuasions of his half-sister in a dream.
And the part of him he thought lost that Miahala had brought to the surface during their time together on the road. And that was why he had wanted to run: why take another chance at something good and risk the sharp pain that might come.
“Leaving … running … was the desire that came from the fact there was something I did want,” Sojin said simply. “And then you were dying … and I felt as if part of a whole were crumbling.”
Silence. And then the words came freely.
“Miahala Ives Aes Sedai, the life I want is at your side, as your friend and as your Warder, if you so will it,” Sojin said. “By Light and Grace, I freely consent my service to you, from here and through shadow and fire, until the Final Battle and after into the Fourth Age if it is willed.”
He nipped her lips playfully and added, “In other words, my Aes Sedai, I fear you may be stuck with me a good long while.”
As it stood, the silver-haired Gaidin had awaken in a start not two hours after Jerid Walker and most of his contingent left for the Grey Tower. Only the Yellow Aeryn Sedai remained, and she hovered over both him and the Amyrlin Seat for what seemed like an eternity.
What little time he did get to see Miahala was not time spent alone. And it was driving him insane, but whether it was the bond of emotions and awareness that was the Green Aes Sedai or his own … annoyance with his father for the words his father had apparently spoken to Miahala Sedai while he was unconscious.
Aeryn Sedai might have been loyal to the First Seeker, but she apparently held to a code of ethics that one did not keep such things from a Warder, especially one bonded to the Amyrlin Seat.
Despite the initial weariness, recovery came quick — quicker than normal thanks to the Warder Bond. While it was an advantageous benefit, the true value of the bond was sensing Miahala, namely her anxiousness to leave.
So it was that when Miahala announced her intention to ride out for the Grey Tower — apparently the long way around the First Seeker's deadline — he was already preparing Tsyn to ride out and ensuring everything was prepared for his Aes Sedai to do the same.
Balen Asha'man was there only briefly to send them off, with a nod to the silver-haired Gaidin and a bow to the Amyrlin Seat. In passing, the Grey Asha'man passed him a slender wrapped bundle and a letter, mentioned that he would be returning to the Caralain soon with the Seanchan and Caralain soldiers and kindly asked Sojin to pass on his best wishes to the Gaidin's younger half-brother.
The entire ride was quiet and somber, and Sojin could feel Miahala struggle with containing her emotions. He wanted to console or consult with her, but he also sensed a desire to move farther from the outpost.
So, the Gaidin respected her silent wishes, and from beneath his wide-brimmed hat, studied the folded and sealed letter. It was from his father, as obvious by the seal bearing three foxes, Jerid Asha'man's personal signet. He cracked the seal, read its contents and swore silently. He dared not unwrap the bundle while he rode for fear that he would fall off in a bout of anger lest he be surprised.
The brief time since then gave him time to reflect. His mind was given to the Void while he did so, and the events of the last few days sank in. The years as a soldier, as a calvary captain, as High Seat of House Walker — they never held a weight so heavy as that of a bonded Warder. Yes, the others held grave responsibilities, but being a Warder was something … more, something that even after years of training still required the right … instinct.
Be a Warder, Sojin Majere, a thought echoed. It was one part Balen Ashe Asha'man, one part a younger version the man who came to the Yards — with a Whitecloak arrow in his side while covering the escape of a young noblewoman slated for the Novice White.
His sapphire eyes shifted toward the Aes Sedai and he tilted his head. Oh, how times changed and people developed and shifted.
Camp was set up not too long after they left, and Sojin went about ensuring the meal was cooked, the horses looked after, the firewood gathered.
And suddenly the flood of emotions seemed to assail him in such a fashion that nearly reached for his nearby sword as if ready to defend the Aes Sedai from an unperceived assault.
Instead, he calmly placed the bundle he had received from Balen Asha'man down and looked quietly at Miahala. Whatever calm facade remained around the Aes Sedai seemed to splinter, and the world of emotions flowing across the bond made him … he couldn't put a word to what he felt.
Nor could he begin to find the words to immediately respond as he set aside the package he held.
So instead, he repositioned himself and planted his rear right next to Miahala on the bundle of wood. The silver-haired Gaidin grasped the Aes Sedai's hand and murmured, “Nor can I ever begin to express the relief that you are alive, Aes Sedai.”
His sapphire eyes danced as he came to a revelation. Here he was now at a crossroads: Flee as usual, or stay his ground. He had a thousand different voices tell him which both the most and least mistake: the Mistress of Arms during their tense conversations several weeks past, Balen's very blunt advice, even the gentle persuasions of his half-sister in a dream.
And the part of him he thought lost that Miahala had brought to the surface during their time together on the road. And that was why he had wanted to run: why take another chance at something good and risk the sharp pain that might come.
“Leaving … running … was the desire that came from the fact there was something I did want,” Sojin said simply. “And then you were dying … and I felt as if part of a whole were crumbling.”
Silence. And then the words came freely.
“Miahala Ives Aes Sedai, the life I want is at your side, as your friend and as your Warder, if you so will it,” Sojin said. “By Light and Grace, I freely consent my service to you, from here and through shadow and fire, until the Final Battle and after into the Fourth Age if it is willed.”
He nipped her lips playfully and added, “In other words, my Aes Sedai, I fear you may be stuck with me a good long while.”
Jerid Walker Asha'man
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
-
Bella
- Female Channeller Representative
- Posts: 5616
- Joined: April 14th, 2015, 11:28 pm
- PC: Miahala Darrow Sedai
- SC: Lysira Viathene Gaidin
- TC: Gareth Tomosan Asha'man
- QC: Natlya Cade Gaidin
- QC: Andraste Alhandra Sedai
- Location: New England
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
With her words spoken, Mia all but held her breath as she steeled herself for the hard truth of matters. She let her fractured focus glide over everything else--the flickering firelight as it danced in her peripheral vision, the faint breeze that blew across her face and dragged the scent of home with it, the warmth of their bodies as they sat so close.
This was one of those moments she knew she would always remember, despite a deep desire to not remember it. Don't leave me. A new little voice rose in her mind. She was not sure she liked it, it sounded weak, but it existed none the less.
Please, don't leave me.
Miahala did not want to feel alone again; did not want to be again alone. The moments would stretch out like the beats of a song she could not dance to, and did not even want to listen to. That was not something she looked forward to. Serving the Tower, she knew it was her best mission in life, but if she was going to have a life, she wanted to live.
He took her hand as the long moment shattered. As he was about to speak. His hand was warm, or else hers was cold. She listened to his words as they unfurled, and as one by one they dropped upon her, the melancholy receded. Her breath caught in her throat even as her heart thudded. He wasn't taking her offer to release the bond.
Sojin Majere had chosen to remain with her, and suddenly the song changed. Saldea began singing again, and it was a song she wished to dance to. She tore off the veils she had been trying to layer over the bond in her mind, and let him feel her completely. In all her innate passion, her torrential emotions so carefully walled off from the world behind her porcelain veneer, her love. All bared before him.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him as if it might well be the last moment of this age.
This was one of those moments she knew she would always remember, despite a deep desire to not remember it. Don't leave me. A new little voice rose in her mind. She was not sure she liked it, it sounded weak, but it existed none the less.
Please, don't leave me.
Miahala did not want to feel alone again; did not want to be again alone. The moments would stretch out like the beats of a song she could not dance to, and did not even want to listen to. That was not something she looked forward to. Serving the Tower, she knew it was her best mission in life, but if she was going to have a life, she wanted to live.
He took her hand as the long moment shattered. As he was about to speak. His hand was warm, or else hers was cold. She listened to his words as they unfurled, and as one by one they dropped upon her, the melancholy receded. Her breath caught in her throat even as her heart thudded. He wasn't taking her offer to release the bond.
Sojin Majere had chosen to remain with her, and suddenly the song changed. Saldea began singing again, and it was a song she wished to dance to. She tore off the veils she had been trying to layer over the bond in her mind, and let him feel her completely. In all her innate passion, her torrential emotions so carefully walled off from the world behind her porcelain veneer, her love. All bared before him.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him as if it might well be the last moment of this age.
Re: Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold [Attn: Sojin Majere Gaidin]
If words could describe the immense wave of emotions flooding through the bond from Miahala, Sojin couldn't find them. Perhaps it was best not to know, or it would seem less … significant.
All he knew was that it was music in his ears. If the land could sing, it was one of joy and love and the passion that drove its success for a thousand years and more.
Warmth. Love. Joy. A desire for wholeness. It all flooded from Miahala and into him. And those were feelings very much reciprocated.
What was life if it was spent alone, but a mere string of days that melded together in some semblance coherent thought. That was not living, merely existing.
The kiss Miahala planted on his lips multiplied the emotions he felt and drove home the point of a solitary life a thousandfold. If he was to live and die, it would be in this woman's service and in her heart if she would have him.
Sojin wrapped his arms around Miahala's frame and drew her close, to such a point that they fell off the woodpile and onto the earthen floor below. He didn't care. He only wanted her.
~ ~ ~
The fire was low, but still provided enough light for Sojin to see by as he looked at Miahala, almost asleep in his arms. Their clothes were scattered all about, and they were currently covered only with a blanket that was handily nearby.
Now he sat, arms wrapped around her. He kissed her shoulder before his eyes went straying across the camp. His sapphire gaze landed on the bundle on the ground near where he had first sat. After a few, long thoughtful moments, he reluctantly pulled himself from Miahala, wrapped the blanket around her, grabbed his cloak and promptly sat down to unwrap the bundle Balen had given him before they departed.
Recalling his father's letter, he almost dumped the bloody thing in the fire. But curiosity got the better of him, and he unwrapped it. The contents were a letter, apparently written some time ago, and a scabbarded jian sword, its hilt of wrapped antler with a fox's head for a pommel.
The letter was sealed with only simple wax marker that bore only three letters “BRW.”
Curious still, Sojin broke the seal and opened the letter. And he swore in surprise, an oath so vile that he swore the night birds flew then and there because of it.
He smiled then as his eyes scanned the contents.
Dearest brother,
Despite our short time knowing each other, I feel compelled to write based on what our Lord father, Jerid Walker Asha'man, told me of ya.
He cautioned that while ya were a good man, with perhaps the best of him in ya, that I should limit contact. He said that yer path was a divided one, torn between past and future, and that ya would need to find yer way.
While I love our father with all my heart, he is wrong. Balen Asha'man told me of yer story after much insistence. He told me how ya loved and lost your wife and son, the path ya chose in coming to the Yards, even the bond ya shared with Saphire en'Damier Aes Sedai, and the shared suffering with the loss of unborn children.
Both Father and Balen said that you blame yerself and think yerself unworthy of being a Warder.
How can this be when I saw with my own eyes as ya ran through the gateway and into the Blight to stand side by side with Miahala Sedai, of the stories that followed where you functioned without misstep as a team? Or the stories of when Jocelyn the idiot (yes, I know his real name, but it does not bear merit) attempted to kill Miahala Sedai at the Black Ajah's request in the Gardens?
And I remember even as before we met, how ya stood up to our Lord father and told him to make peace with the Seanchan. Balen Asha'man said ya surrendered the sabre that yer Aes Sedai Saphire en'Damier long ago bequeathed to you to your father as a message that things need to change.
I would say these things to you in person, but ya are away, at House Walker in the Caralain, dealing with Seanchan, nobles and all sorts of flaming headaches.
Perhaps this is why I can say that I saw ya, once, when I was still a girl of fifteen and hunting for the Horn. Or pretended to be one, at least. Ya were were a dashing captain of the Band of the Red Hand, in Baerlon, just having to remove a bunch of so-called Dragonsworn. Ya were a young woman's dream of a good man, so stunning and bearing a heron-marked sword that you appeared never to use, all in favor of a sabre.
It makes me proud that yer my brother, the way ya acted: At once both a leader and man who engaged his soldiers and the townfolk like he was one of them. Ya seem … so much less inclined to do that now, as if yer looking for a place and don't know where to fit.
It was mentioned that heron sword of yers might be a tangible link between what was expected of ya and the person ya truly are: someone who runs toward something, not away from it.
Enclosed is something I requested of Balen Asha'man, since he's a fine smith and all. Do me a favor and set aside that heron-marked blade of yers, since ya seem to keep it as a form of penance.
Take this up as a new beginning.
With love of your sister,
Bryn Riverstone Walker
PS: And do yerself a favor and become a Warder again. Perhaps Miahala Sedai … because well, yeah … you know.
Sojin smiled, one that was bittersweet. Most dismissed his sister as flighty, impulsive, and worse. Despite the short time and sometimes conflicting emotions she stirred, Sojin knew better. She might have those flaws, but she was intelligent, sharp as a needle and bore more common sense than most he knew.
And her letter hit the mark in so many ways.
Setting the letter aside, he picked the blade up and after a moment drew it. Steel slid effortlessly from the scabbard. The sword was slender and long, meant for calvary and single combat both. Fine writing in the Old Tongue was etched into the blade on both sides.
One side translated: Seek your own path; the other: Grace and memory, Light and the future.
From behind him, Sojin could hear and feel Miahala stir. He smiled softly and murmured, “You clever girl.”
All he knew was that it was music in his ears. If the land could sing, it was one of joy and love and the passion that drove its success for a thousand years and more.
Warmth. Love. Joy. A desire for wholeness. It all flooded from Miahala and into him. And those were feelings very much reciprocated.
What was life if it was spent alone, but a mere string of days that melded together in some semblance coherent thought. That was not living, merely existing.
The kiss Miahala planted on his lips multiplied the emotions he felt and drove home the point of a solitary life a thousandfold. If he was to live and die, it would be in this woman's service and in her heart if she would have him.
Sojin wrapped his arms around Miahala's frame and drew her close, to such a point that they fell off the woodpile and onto the earthen floor below. He didn't care. He only wanted her.
~ ~ ~
The fire was low, but still provided enough light for Sojin to see by as he looked at Miahala, almost asleep in his arms. Their clothes were scattered all about, and they were currently covered only with a blanket that was handily nearby.
Now he sat, arms wrapped around her. He kissed her shoulder before his eyes went straying across the camp. His sapphire gaze landed on the bundle on the ground near where he had first sat. After a few, long thoughtful moments, he reluctantly pulled himself from Miahala, wrapped the blanket around her, grabbed his cloak and promptly sat down to unwrap the bundle Balen had given him before they departed.
Recalling his father's letter, he almost dumped the bloody thing in the fire. But curiosity got the better of him, and he unwrapped it. The contents were a letter, apparently written some time ago, and a scabbarded jian sword, its hilt of wrapped antler with a fox's head for a pommel.
The letter was sealed with only simple wax marker that bore only three letters “BRW.”
Curious still, Sojin broke the seal and opened the letter. And he swore in surprise, an oath so vile that he swore the night birds flew then and there because of it.
He smiled then as his eyes scanned the contents.
Dearest brother,
Despite our short time knowing each other, I feel compelled to write based on what our Lord father, Jerid Walker Asha'man, told me of ya.
He cautioned that while ya were a good man, with perhaps the best of him in ya, that I should limit contact. He said that yer path was a divided one, torn between past and future, and that ya would need to find yer way.
While I love our father with all my heart, he is wrong. Balen Asha'man told me of yer story after much insistence. He told me how ya loved and lost your wife and son, the path ya chose in coming to the Yards, even the bond ya shared with Saphire en'Damier Aes Sedai, and the shared suffering with the loss of unborn children.
Both Father and Balen said that you blame yerself and think yerself unworthy of being a Warder.
How can this be when I saw with my own eyes as ya ran through the gateway and into the Blight to stand side by side with Miahala Sedai, of the stories that followed where you functioned without misstep as a team? Or the stories of when Jocelyn the idiot (yes, I know his real name, but it does not bear merit) attempted to kill Miahala Sedai at the Black Ajah's request in the Gardens?
And I remember even as before we met, how ya stood up to our Lord father and told him to make peace with the Seanchan. Balen Asha'man said ya surrendered the sabre that yer Aes Sedai Saphire en'Damier long ago bequeathed to you to your father as a message that things need to change.
I would say these things to you in person, but ya are away, at House Walker in the Caralain, dealing with Seanchan, nobles and all sorts of flaming headaches.
Perhaps this is why I can say that I saw ya, once, when I was still a girl of fifteen and hunting for the Horn. Or pretended to be one, at least. Ya were were a dashing captain of the Band of the Red Hand, in Baerlon, just having to remove a bunch of so-called Dragonsworn. Ya were a young woman's dream of a good man, so stunning and bearing a heron-marked sword that you appeared never to use, all in favor of a sabre.
It makes me proud that yer my brother, the way ya acted: At once both a leader and man who engaged his soldiers and the townfolk like he was one of them. Ya seem … so much less inclined to do that now, as if yer looking for a place and don't know where to fit.
It was mentioned that heron sword of yers might be a tangible link between what was expected of ya and the person ya truly are: someone who runs toward something, not away from it.
Enclosed is something I requested of Balen Asha'man, since he's a fine smith and all. Do me a favor and set aside that heron-marked blade of yers, since ya seem to keep it as a form of penance.
Take this up as a new beginning.
With love of your sister,
Bryn Riverstone Walker
PS: And do yerself a favor and become a Warder again. Perhaps Miahala Sedai … because well, yeah … you know.
Sojin smiled, one that was bittersweet. Most dismissed his sister as flighty, impulsive, and worse. Despite the short time and sometimes conflicting emotions she stirred, Sojin knew better. She might have those flaws, but she was intelligent, sharp as a needle and bore more common sense than most he knew.
And her letter hit the mark in so many ways.
Setting the letter aside, he picked the blade up and after a moment drew it. Steel slid effortlessly from the scabbard. The sword was slender and long, meant for calvary and single combat both. Fine writing in the Old Tongue was etched into the blade on both sides.
One side translated: Seek your own path; the other: Grace and memory, Light and the future.
From behind him, Sojin could hear and feel Miahala stir. He smiled softly and murmured, “You clever girl.”
Jerid Walker Asha'man
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
"We all suffer. It's how we move past it that defines us."
meble kuchenne na wymiar cennik
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