Firstborn Rights

The World outside the Grey Tower is a vast place.
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Craig
Librarian
Posts: 2613
Joined: November 20th, 2015, 10:29 am
PC: Ravak t'Sha'hal Darrow
SC: Elia Darrow
TC: Zarayne
QC: Farah Kattan
Location: Scotland

Firstborn Rights

Post by Craig » September 7th, 2017, 12:26 pm

<< May I Present...Ravhala
<< Her Mother's Daughter Zarayne
The Farm lived up to its namesake. From the way it had been described, Zarayne had thought it a euphemism for some dungeon faraway from the ears of Hama Valon. Instead it was a sizable piece of land in the middle of nowhere, with fields bearing grains or livestock. There was a stable for horses that had aged past their usefulness as steeds of war, and pens for pigs and cows and sheep. There was also a shed converted into sleeping quarters. No-one had any privacy, but that bothered her peers more than it affected Zarayne herself.

The hardest part about the farm wasn't the labour from before sunrise until after sunset, although it did rival the most grueling days as a novice. It wasn't the smell neither, although that did grow on you until you mostly didn't notice it. No, the worst thing was the lack of channelling. No-one at the Farm channelled, including the Aes Sedai and Asha'man that tended to it. Cuts and scrapes were left untreated, and even more serious injuries were tended to by herbs and tinctures rather than the One Power. One boy of fifteen or sixteen had hobbled for his first two weeks on a sprained ankle. Zarayne thought she could had mended it, or at least eased the soldier's suffering, but it was forbidden. The siren song of saidar was always there, calling to her. It was that ongoing tease that brought her low. Aching muscles she'd become accustomed to, but the temptation of saidar, just to hold onto it, that dragged her mind over the coals each and every moment.

"Zarayne?" The Accepted looked up from the field she was seeding, one hand plunged into the bag strapped to her waist, the other resting on the hoe. The pole doubled as a walking stick although its aid was mostly a placebo against the aches in her knees and ankles. What she saw - who she saw - surprised her. At the edge of the field stood her father, hands poised on the two swords on his belt. "Can we talk?"

"No," Zarayne replied, making a gesture with the top of the hoe. The question was a "can", and she could not. She was less than halfway through this row, and the entire field had to be seeded. "I'm busy." If she was delayed, not that she was allowed to be, that just meant working through supper and into the hours of darkness.

"Zarayne," her father called back, "it's fine, we can talk for a moment." He emphasised the words, indicating that someone had given him the authority to disturb her.

"Then I don't want to," she bluntly replied. Taking a grip of some seeds, Zarayne resumed her task, turning her back to the ginger-haired Gaidin. She had absolutely no interest in speaking with the man, no matter what his rank or relation to her was. On the later front, he'd made his position perfectly clear.

"Zarayne," the Master of Arms called yet again. "Come here."

She practically threw the hoe down, then unbuckled the bag of seeds. Carefully she placed them within the furrow, making sure the bag would not tip over if left unattended for a few minutes. Then she turned towards her father, and marched towards him whilst staring at the ground. When his feet came into view she tilted her head back and glared down at him. "If you wanted to talk, don't say 'can we'."

"You're annoyed," he commented. Well observed, she thought wryly. At the moment, spending some quality time with the Mistress of Novices' cane seemed like a treat against dealing with Ravak Darrow. Not because he was angry or upset, just simply because of who he was, and what he'd done.

"Why're you annoyed?" he asked. Zarayne had no verbal reply for him. She just stood before him, peering down at him. She hoped it was a murderous glare. She wanted her father to know just how much she loathed him in this moment.

"The silent treatment, eh?" Ravak continued. He nodded to himself, as if this scenario was playing out just as he'd anticipated. "Fine, well," he sighed, "I'll just keep talking then. Why did you run away?" Zarayne felt a hollow churning in her stomach as she considered enacting violence against the man. He deserved at least a strike across the face for his insolence just then.

Instead of striking him, the Aielwoman just glared. For his part, Ravak just scratched at his beard after a few silent moments. He smiled briefly before speaking in a mild tone. "I dunno if you know this, but your sister Kai--

"She's not my sister," Zarayne spat. Actual spit flew unintentionally from her mouth to land of her father's face. He blinked when it happened, then brought up a gloved hand to wipe the spittle off.

"Half-sister then," he said tersely. "Can I say that?" He waited for an answer but none were forthcoming. "Well, Kaira, she also ran away. Vanished for a year or so. Had me on tenterhooks the whole time. I thought I lost her for good. When you did the same thing, I thought I may lose you too."

"Well I'm here," Zarayne replied coolly. She had her mother's mastery of fire and ice.

"Yes, I know." Ravak sighed. As he dragged a hand down over his face, he looked weary. Not that Zarayne cared. She had likely been up before him, and would still be up after he got settled into his cosy bed. Still, good to know that he wasn't indefatigable. Eventually he got the courage to speak again. "Why did you run away?" he asked quietly.

"What did my mother do wrong?" she asked just as quietly.

"What?"

"What did my mother do wrong?" she repeated as emotion jumped into her voice. "You loved her, did you not? Why did you just leave her?"

He rose a hand in defense. "It wasn't by choice. I had no other option but to leave."

"I know." It was Zarayne's turn to sigh. As much as she wanted to hurt him, that statement was a fact. Had he remained in the Three-fold Land after trespassing in Rhuidean then this conversation couldn't have taken place. Fortunately she did have something else prepared. "But you could have been faithful to her nonetheless."

"Faithful?" His face was a momentary picture of confusion. Then it transformed into a sympathetic smile. It was condescending. "Zarayne, I didn't think I'd see your mother again."

She was under no doubt that Ravak was thinking about the wrong act of transgression against Sinead. Zarayne set him straight. "I'm not talking about Kaira Darrow; I'm talking about Miahala Darrow."

"Mia?" Confusion again. "You ran away because of Mia?"

"I ran away because you wed Miahala Sedai," she replied sharply. "You knew my mother was alive, but you chose to start a new family instead!"

"I'm not starting a new family--"

She cut him off viciously. "She's with child! Or do you think I'm dumb and expendable?"

"Expendable? I never--"

She'd had quite enough.

That siren song grew loud as Zarayne opened herself up to the miraculous touch of the True Source. The One Power flowed into and around her like she was standing neck-deep in a lake of light. Bliss touched every ounce of her being, filling her with a sensation of weightless. Then the initial rush passed and the Accepted knew what to do.

Focusing on the ground before her, she poured the light of saidar into the cracked soil. For a moment nothing happened, but then Zarayne seized control of her might. The land churned and cracked, bulging up from below in certain places whilst crumbling away in others. Her father began to hop around like he was on a ship in a storm, but the intensity only rose as Zarayne focused more and more upon her weave.

"I am your daughter, Ravak Darrow," she cried over the tremors, "but you treat me like a fly in your porridge! I will not be cast aside so easily." Veins of red flashed between the cracks in the ground as she poured Fire into the mix. "Go back to your Tower, back to your other family! Hide in the bosom of your wife for all I care! But remember, I am your daughter, and you owe me. For nineteen years you owe me!"

The ground seemed to pulse and throb at her whim. Ravak was struggling to keep his footing before the world seemed to run white. Threads of Spirit spun around her, eventually placing a wall between herself and the One Power. Everything dulled, including her anger. As the shield closed around her, Zarayne slowly sunk to her knees.

Footsteps approached, but from her limited field of vision looking down at the ground, Zarayne could only see the one pair of boots. The shadow around it grew bigger as her father crouched down to speak to her. "Zarayne," he said patiently, "I love you. But you are right, I do owe you. I'm sorry."
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Craig's Tracker ❖ Librarian
Elan wrote:Of course, the problems with observing a chain of command arise when the one in command decides to do something unspeakably idiotic, like taking off on his own for no discernible reason in the middle of enemy territory.

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