Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

The offices of the M'hael, Amyrlin Seat, Master of Arms, Keeper and the MoNSTers
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Sunny
"Knife of Dreams"
Posts: 3757
Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
PC: Jaryd Kosari
SC: Dakson Torellion
TC: Finn
QC: Owen Andarin

Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

Post by Sunny » July 2nd, 2017, 7:39 am

Jaryd
As the last soldier finally crept out of his office, Jaryd sat up and stretched. Every vertebrae in his spine popped in rapid succession and he emitted a long sigh of satisfaction. Some days went faster than others, but to his chagrin that one had proven to be the opposite. One disciplinary case after another had crossed his desk, each testing his patience and temper and, in one case, his sense of honor. Hard to punish a man for doing what I have done myself, he thought as he remembered that particular incident.

The Altaran scrubbed spidery fingers through the mess of black curls atop his head, then pushed himself to his feet. He needed to organize the paperwork for that day, but that could be done later. Perhaps with a glass of wine at hand. Perhaps with company… that thought distracted him so thoroughly that he nearly ran into one of the marble pillars that supported the vaulted ceiling. Bemused by how easily his mind slipped away from responsibility to thoughts of fun and pleasure, Jaryd adjusted his course and made for the door.

As happened far too frequently, something happened before he got there...something he had not experienced since Katrie disappeared. A gong rattled through his thoughts and the Asha’man missed a step, fingers rising to his forehead. For a moment all he could see were the horrible scars that covered his hands, but for once his attention remained focused elsewhere.

Who in the bloody Light...or out of it...would try to Travel into my office? The list of potential candidates ran a little too long for Jaryd’s liking, even limited to male channelers. Whoever it was, if he were trying to get in it seemed likely he would try alternate avenues next. More amused than upset by the oddity, the Master of Soldiers departed his office.

The soldier who had been attending him looked up from his book. Derwin was impossibly young; most men developed the ability as adults, but the Saldaean soldier had sparked just shy of his fifteenth birthday. Light help him. “Go get your dinner,” Jaryd told the boy, then frowned. Menace radiated from the main stairwell, too strong to be ignored. “Take the back stairs. Someone’s coming up the front and it’s best you avoid him.”

“Yessir.” The young man paused. “If I may, how do you know that?”

He sounded so amazed that Jaryd actually laughed. “It comes with practice,” he said. “The more you channel, the more easily you will pick up the signs of trouble. I will schedule a time to discuss- later. Now scoot!” Derwin scooted, book clutched to his skinny chest.

Alone once more, the Asha'man turned toward the stairs. Anyone familiar with the Tower knew who the slender figure in red was; he felt no need to proclaim his presence or identity to whomever approached. Instead he rested lightly on his toes and waited, his body and saidin ready to lash out at the first sign of threat.

No attack came. In fact, as soon as Jaryd saw the figure bounding up the stairs, he released the One Power entirely. "Light in heaven, I haven’t seen you in years Landrin,” he commented, surprise coloring his voice. “Is there a particular reason you’re running about without a stitch of clothing?”
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

Marc
"New Spring"
Posts: 9
Joined: August 10th, 2014, 8:45 pm
PC: Landrin al'Kuninan
Location: Washington, DC

Re: Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

Post by Marc » July 2nd, 2017, 3:36 pm

Landrin saw no sign of destruction as he climbed the stairs. There was no sign of anything being out of place- the Tower was quiet and calm. Too calm, it seemed to Landrin. Maybe it was just this part of the Tower... or maybe its been longer than I thought. For the first time, his nakedness struck him. He wasn't a self conscious man, but he felt an odd urge to be clothed, now, that went beyond simple necessity. He felt... dirty, perhaps. Exposed. Vulnerable, even with Saidin raging inside him.

He topped the stairs leading to his office and turned to see a man in red standing in waiting at the mouth of the hall. That was odd- there was no Red Ajah, and most people in the Tower dressed in the colors of their Ajahs. Landrin himself would occasionally wear red as a secondary color, but this man's entire outfit was red, and he couldn't see the sword and dragon pins anywhere on it. He must be an Ash'aman, or... he didn't want to think about the alternative.

What was more the man was holding the source, a lot of it. Light, he was stronger than Landrin! There were few enough in the Tower with that kind of power, and Landrin knew them all. He didn't recognize this man. He was clearly Altaran, with very curly black hair and a pointed face. His face was young, but his eyes... his eyes were old. He also carried a knife at his belt. He was standing ready to strike, the power raging through him, staring right at Landrin. A lightning-fast look of sheer shock slipped across the man's face, and with that look the one power left him. That was a mistake, Landrin thought, beginning to weave a shield to block the other man from Saidin. But he stopped the weave immediately when the man spoke. He stopped because he knew the voice.

"Light in heaven, I haven’t seen you in years Landrin. Is there a particular reason you’re running about without a stitch of clothing?"

Landrin released the power, his surprise showing clearly on his face. It couldn't be... "J-Jaryd?" Landrin was, uncharacteristically, completely at a loss for words. He couldn't have been gone from the Tower for more than a few hours, yet here stood a man who he had raised through the Tower, who he had mentored and taught himself on many occasions.But it wasn't possible- that man was decades younger than this one. And he had very short hair, not a long curly mess. In fact, almost all of his features were different. What under the light happened to him? More, the man was a Dedicated, not an Ash'aman. Why was he not in uniform? Why was he questioning the Master of Soldiers like this?

Then the full impact of Jaryd's first statement hit him, like running into the wall. I haven't seen you in years, he had said. Years, plural. Oh light, how long have I been gone? Landrin had assumed it had been hours, maybe a few days or weeks, but years? No, the boy had to be mistaken, that was it. Landrin couldn't possibly have vanished from the Tower for that long. His rooms would have been repaired, he would have been able to travel into them, even if someone else had moved in and redecorated. Maybe this bubble of evil made him think it's been years, Landrin decided. Yes, that made the most sense, considering the situation.

But then he remembered more about Jaryd. The boy had a penchant for trouble- hardly a fortnight would go by when the boy wouldn't be in his office for some small offense. Landrin could never connect him with some of the bigger ones, although he often was certain Jaryd had some part. The boy was brilliant, talented, and loved playing jokes on people. There wasn't a hint of a smile on his face, though, and the surprise that had run across his face and hung in his voice was very real. Could that statement have just been a harmless joke? Landrin had seen him less than a week ago, could it be that someone had sent him to Landrin to discipline when the bubble burst? It would explain why he was channeling- if a bubble of evil had just burst, he would have been expecting any sort of attack, especially with someone storming up the stairs full of Saidin.

Finally feeling like he had a handle on the situation, Landrin collected himself at last, regaining his composure and getting control over his face again. A short moment had passed, Jaryd was looking quizzically at him."Is that any way to speak to the Master of Soldiers, Dedicated?" He said, putting that edge of command into his voice he was so practiced at. "We can talk about why you aren't in uniform later, but for now I need an update on what's going on here. Have you been near my office recently? How bad is the damage on that side of this hall?" As Landrin looked passed him, he couldn't see any damage. The hallway looked as it always had.

Landrin needed clothes. The man had even commented on that. Landrin would forgive him that, he supposed, although the manner in which he had spoken had been most unfit for a Dedicated talking to the Master of Soldiers. But he let that line of thought go, too. If the Jaryd had had anything like the experience Landrin had had with this bubble of evil, then he surely would have reason to be flustered. Landrin could forgive hastily spoken words under that kind of stress. There were far more pressing matters to attend to. Landrin needed to get clothes, and the only place that he could find them was his rooms. Landrin calmly strode forward. Three strides and he was passed Jaryd, saying "Come child, I believe I will need your help. You can wait in my office while I change."

Sunny
"Knife of Dreams"
Posts: 3757
Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
PC: Jaryd Kosari
SC: Dakson Torellion
TC: Finn
QC: Owen Andarin

Re: Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

Post by Sunny » July 8th, 2017, 4:17 am

Jaryd’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline when Landrin spoke, but he said nothing. Dedicated? There wasn’t a trace of humor on the other man’s face, and the Red found that concerning. While Landrin asked his questions the Altaran did some quick calculations in his head. Many years had slipped by unnoticed since he chose his Ajah and particularly so after his bond to Kaia snapped, but he thought it had been at least fifty since he was last in Landrin’s charge.

Could he have somehow fallen into Tel’aran’rhiod? A Portal World? Wherever he had been it seemed unwise to contradict his assumptions without first providing proof of the truth. After a moment of thought the Altaran turned on his heel and went to the door of his -their, he thought with grim amusement- study. “Landrin,” he said quietly as he fished the ‘key’ out of his pocket and pressed it against the expanse of plain wood, “I don’t understand what you have been through, but please believe I am sorry for what is about to happen.”

His Ward fell and Jaryd pushed the door open, gesturing Landrin into a space that decidedly did not belong to the Green. Cabinets lined one wall from floor to ceiling. Some of the doors had glass windows, revealing odd curios and piles of books and papers. His desk was a beautifully carved piece of blackwood art that had cost him a fortune and followed him across six administrative appointments; it faced the door from the center of the room, covered in papers and books. A chair for visitors faced the desk; against the wall behind it was a second table with three ladder-back chairs pushed beneath it. A collection of reading stands and a large globe stood about the room and a Taraboner carpet covered the marble floor nearly wall to wall. In the wall opposite where they stood were large windows draped with dark velvet that soared over a deep window seat piled with gold-embroidered pillows in various shades of red.

Jaryd had thrown every ounce of taste he possessed into designing that room and he loved it more than he cared to admit. At the same time...he watched his old mentor with concern. “I think we need to talk,” the Altaran said soberly, closing the door behind them.

“I am no longer Dedicated, Landrin,” he continued as he moved to one of the cabinets. He retrieved a gray silk dressing gown, which he handed to the Green with a nod of his head. Then the wiry man settled with his arms over his chest and his bottom against the edge of his desk. “Can you tell me how long it has been since you last saw me?”
---
OOC clarification: For the record, I retconned Jaryd’s appearance. It’s not that he looked one way to Landrin and now he looks different, it’s that I went back and rewrote all my stuff so he *always* looked this way. The only actual difference Landrin would notice is that as a soldier and Dedicated he cut his hair very short, and now it’s all curly and shiz. :P

This has exactly zero bearing on plot. XD
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

Marc
"New Spring"
Posts: 9
Joined: August 10th, 2014, 8:45 pm
PC: Landrin al'Kuninan
Location: Washington, DC

Re: Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

Post by Marc » July 10th, 2017, 11:40 pm

As he strode toward his office, Landrin heard Jaryd quickly catching up to him. He took a place by his side as they approached his office- a fact that Landrin noticed. He walked beside him as though they were equals, not teacher and pupil. He would need to deal with that.

He stopped in front of the door to his office... it wasn't the door. The door was different, now. Before he could reach for the handle, though, Jaryn brushed past him and spoke, taking a small wooden disk out of his pocket. “Landrin, I don’t understand what you have been through, but please believe I am sorry for what is about to happen." He pressed the disk into the door as he spoke, and it swung open. Landrin opened his mouth intending to demand that key be handed over to him, but the words caught in his throat as he saw the office and he gaped in shock.

The office, his office, was completely different than it had been hours ago. It was far more ornate than Landrin had kept it, and far more red. The desk was different, the chairs were different. There was a much larger carpet now, compared to the modest one Landrin had kept in the center of the room. Some of the doors even had windows in them, showing him that the rest of the apartments were not at all the same as he had left them. Light, whoever did this doesn't know me, he thought. But then another thought came into his head, one that he couldn't outright reject. This place is lived in, not reserved for you. Those books see regular use, someone routinely walks over the carpet, and there isn't any dust. The room was inhabited. It wasn't inhabited by Landrin.

He heard the door close behind him- he did not realize that he had waked into the room, and Jaryd's voice vaguely echoed in his shock. “I think we need to talk,” he said, his voice heavy and full of concern. "I am no longer Dedicated, Landrin." Landrin didn't really hear him. He handed Landrin a dressing gown and he took it automatically, not really thinking as he slid it on to cover himself. The full weight of what this meant was starting to hit Landrin. If someone else lived in this office, then it could only mean one thing. I am no longer Master of Soldiers, he thought, I must have been gone long enough that the had to replace me. Oh light, what have I done? How long has it been? He had spent the past three decades of his life collecting new blood for the Tower. He had searched the world over, trying his best to bring new channelers into the fight against the shadow. Because of the combined efforts of himself and Celene roughly two hundred new students had been found. Most were too weak to be raised to the Accepted or Dedicated, but perhaps slightly less than half would make it all the way to Aes Sedai or Ash'aman. He had dedicated his life to fighting the shadow slightly more indirectly. He had decided years ago that the best way to fight was to lead, to ensure that the forces of the Light had the numbers and power to stand against the Shadow alongside the Dragon Reborn when the time for the Last Battle came. He had done everything he could to deny the Black Tower more pupils, knowing in his heart that the upcoming battle could not be won with Aes Sedai and Ash'aman divided. They had to work together, men and women using the power to fight the Shadow. Without this position, though, his second best weapon against the Shadow had been ripped away from him. Every Master of Soldiers focused on different fields. Many simply focused on making sure classes in their particular talents were taught properly, and on trying to recruit for their Ajah. Well, Landrin had certainly one plenty of that... but he had focused primarily on recruitment. Normally that was left to others, but Landrin had been dogged in convincing Aes Sedai and Ash'aman to go into the world and find new blood for the Tower. He had begun to master the art of putting the idea into someone's head without them seeing him prompting them. He had established a large network of informants to pass him tips on where he may find new Channelers. He had acted on those leads almost every time. Who knew what had happened to those informants? How long had he been gone?

He had spent years bolstering the Tower. And now his life's work was likely finished. Before he had become the Master of Soldiers he had been lost and violent. He had spent much of his time roaming the blight, aimlessly killing Shadowspawn with the One Power and his sword. He had hated who he had become for years- he had no purpose in life and had felt that the war against the Shadow had been useless. It was Celene who had put his name forward to be Master of Soldiers, or so he thought. He had never been sure. But when the M'Hael had called him back to the Tower, it had been Celene who had told him how to handle his new title. She, who had told him that he must cease his foolish wanderings and focus on the war against the Shadow in a productive manner, not just aimless violence. Celene...

The impact of what Jaryd had said as he handed him the dressing gown struck him then. Jaryd was no longer Dedicated. The boy was stronger than Landrin, only one of a handful who were in the Tower. He was, had been close to raising. If he was now Ash'aman... he had unlocked this room. No, Jaryd couldn't be...

Jaryd was already speaking again, "Can you tell me how long it has been since you last saw me?"

Landrin tried to form the void, to calm himself and gain some perspective, but it would not come. It had been years since he had been unable to form the oneness. It was always his one comfort in times of nerd, the one thing that would allow him to clear his mind and think without the weight of his emotions. Saidin sat there, his power, the power that had kept him alive so many times and which would be his best weapon against the Shadow. His heart felt like a lead weight in his chest. My life's work, gone... Celene, gone... It was all too much to think about. He clung to Jaryd's question like a life raft, a reason to focus his thoughts. "It-," his voice broke and he took a deep, shaky breath, "I thought it was hours ago until I walked through that door just now. You were in class, I saw you on my way out after speaking with the Ash'aman teaching you." He said it automatically, his voice unsteady and full of fear and pain. The memory was recent. He was sure it was. It couldn't have been three hours past. How could he have been transported months into the future, let alone years? That memory was all he could find for the moment. Landrin, who normally had an incredibly sharp memory, who was normally so prepared with words, was left unable to speak, unable to find a foothold in his memories.

A thought came to him, a thought that chilled his bones even more and made his heard pound in his chest like a caged animal. "Where is Celene?" He asked, nearly a shout, his voice begging Jaryd to tell him anything about his love. "Have you seen her? Is she alive?" If it had been years since he had been in the Tower, then she could be anywhere. He hoped the that whatever had happened to him had severed their bond and left here here. Please, Light, tell me he knows something, anything... if I can't have my life's purpose back, at least let me have her.

Sunny
"Knife of Dreams"
Posts: 3757
Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
PC: Jaryd Kosari
SC: Dakson Torellion
TC: Finn
QC: Owen Andarin

Re: Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

Post by Sunny » July 29th, 2017, 6:46 am

Hours ago?

Jaryd’s eyes widened and his fingers rose to a faint line that slashed across his cheek from temple to lip. In the class Landrin spoke of the wound had still been puffy and pale. He had refused to tell the Master of Soldiers where he had acquired it, and thus he had been denied Healing as penance. That had been a bitter pill to swallow, but...who would believe a troublemaker’s claim of Darkfriends on Tower grounds?

He couldn’t recall seeing Landrin beyond that point, now he thought about it. Seth had summoned him to the Stair not long after and as the only member of the newly-formed and unpopular Red Ajah, and then as the youngest M’Hael in recorded history, Jaryd had had very little time to think about his old mentor. The Altaran scarred fingers drummed against his arms as he frowned in fierce concentration, but his thoughts were interrupted by Landrin’s demand for information.

“You cannot feel her?” he asked, surprised despite himself. He did not need words to see the answer. But no bond grief. How can that be? As always, such thoughts reminded Jaryd of his own loss. The Void slammed around him, creating an unpenetrable a barrier between his heart and the empty place in his soul where a bond should be. Re-animating his own grief would do nothing for the man who now faced him with terror in his eyes.

“I did not have much reason to spend time with Celene as Dedicated, and I haven’t seen her since I was raised,” he said after a moment. “I don't recall seeing her mentioned in my reports as Keeper or M’Hael, either, but that means very little. She was Aes Sedai and thus of primary concern to the Amyrlin.”

As he spoke, the Altaran glanced to the side. One slender hand flicking out to direct flows of Air and Spirit to one of his cabinets. After slicing the Ward around the doors he retrieved a decanter of deep amber liquor and two glasses, pulling them back toward him with a crook of his fingers. He poured both classes half full before handing one to the Green.

“Drink.” He said, suiting actions to words. Giving the Green alcohol was a gamble, but it seemed more likely to help the man than tea ever could. “You said it had been hours. Do you remember...going anywhere? Doing anything? Perhaps if we can retrace your path we can determine what happened.” To both of you.
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

Marc
"New Spring"
Posts: 9
Joined: August 10th, 2014, 8:45 pm
PC: Landrin al'Kuninan
Location: Washington, DC

Re: Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

Post by Marc » July 30th, 2017, 12:59 am

“I don't recall seeing her mentioned in my reports as Keeper or M’Hael, either, but that means very little. She was Aes Sedai and thus of primary concern to the Amyrlin.”

That was it, then. Celene was gone. If she had survived whatever had carried Landrin off, 40 years was far long enough for something to have happened to her. But then why did he not feel it? Where the bond had been, it wasn't torn away like Landrin had felt it described. It wasn't a gaping, severed hole. It was just gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. That had to mean that she hadn't died while the bond still existed, else it would have been flayed off of his mind. He would know if she was dead. But that meant that the only explanation was that she had voluntarily released the bond. To his knowledge, there was no other way for a bond to break. Could the bubble of evil have caused it to break, without it harming either of us in the process? Was that even possible? He would need to ask a Brown, they may know of such a thing. That was a matter for another time. Jaryd didn't know anything.

Landrin noticed, as Jaryd spoke, the clear change in the tone of his voice. When he had talked about Celene, his voice had gone cold and distant. Something had affected the man since last they had met. Well, it had been 40 years, maybe more. And Jaryd had been M'Hael? Landrin had catching up to do. So many things were going through his head at once that it was becoming hard to keep track of them all, and yet Landrin was surprised he was still so clear headed. Despite all of it, despite the desperate thoughts flying around in his mind, he didn't really feel anything. He almost felt like he had formed the oneness without thinking, as though he was floating in the void as thoughts flew through his mind, not affecting his emotions.

He felt Jaryd channel, saw the weaves that he flowed, and saw a bottle of what looked like wine float over to where they sat. Jaryd poured a more than generous amount into each glass, and indicated he should drink. Landrin took a sip and sighed- it was excellent, perhaps Altaran? Murandian? "You said it had been hours. Do you remember...going anywhere? Doing anything? Perhaps if we can retrace your path we can determine what happened."

Landrin stared at the man in a daze, took another sip, and said "This is good wine. I haven't had a wine this good in... well, I guess about 40 years now." The joke wasn't even that funny, but suddenly Landrin burst into hysterical, almost mad laughter. It came out of nowhere, but once he started he couldn't stop. All of this was completely ridiculous. He was sitting in his office, sitting across from a man who, hours ago, had been a Dedicated but was now Master of Soldiers. His love was gone, their bond vanished as if it had never been there. Jaryd was looking at him with an unreadable expression, probably thinking he was crazy, but he couldn't stop. He laughed until there were tears in his eyes.

When he finally regained a modicum of control over himself, he haltingly said "I... Not three hours ago now, I was sitting across a desk in this room disciplining Ladin Taermic. Then I was in Saldaea, near my childhood home." He paused for a moment, finally fully in control, and gathered his thoughts. As quickly as his mind had collapsed into mirth, it was back into emptiness without him ever trying to form the void. "I remember... in the last moments, the ground seemed to shake. I didn't think anything of it, small earthquakes are not uncommon with the influence the Shadow has on the pattern, and in the Tower... Then there was a flash of light, then I was naked, laying down, and in Saldaea. I figured it was a bubble of evil." He took another sip of wine, using it as an excuse to use his hands more than anything else, then said, "If Celene isn't back yet, Ladin must not be, either." That made logical sense, and at the moment Landrin's mind was entirely free of emotion. Landrin felt a crushing emptiness growing inside of him as he cast about in his mind, desperately searching for something to cling to.

"Jaryd, this office is my life's work. I was Master of Soldiers for... what, twenty years? What has happened these past... years?" He tripped over the last word. "How many Soldiers and Dedicated are in the Tower now? Who are Amyrlin and M'Hael? Who is Mistress of Novices? How many people do you have out searching for new channelers? Have the White or Black Towers moved against us? What is the Dragon Reborn doing? Where is he? Have any of the nations under him broken away?" The questions poured out of him as he lost control of his tongue again. He couldn't even bring himself to be frustrated at how hard it was to keep himself in control.

He drained his glass to stop himself from speaking more.

---

OOC: I am trying my best to make him sound totally incoherent right now, and to make him seem more than a little... crazy. He's pretty deep in shock. So if some of this post seems a little rambly, or sudden, or not my usual style, that's why. I want the whole thing to feel a little off.

Sunny
"Knife of Dreams"
Posts: 3757
Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
PC: Jaryd Kosari
SC: Dakson Torellion
TC: Finn
QC: Owen Andarin

Re: Trading Spaces (attn: Marc)

Post by Sunny » August 31st, 2017, 5:30 am

Landrin rambled, as well a man in shock might. Jaryd watched him carefully, saidin never far from his grasp. What the Green described did not sound like a Bubble of Evil, but there were precious few explanation for what had happened to him. Perhaps a ter’angreal. If that were the case, then perhaps Elia would know something to help the man now drinking wine like his life depended on it.

Perhaps it did.

The questions that came next were delivered so quickly that even Jaryd had trouble following them. Some made sense, especially for a man who thought only a few hours had passed. Others did not. The Dragon Reborn? Creator knew that was the last thing anyone needed to worry about! Jaryd drained his glass and poured another, then settled his full weight against the desk.

“Many things have happened,” he said carefully. “We are led by Feroce Liendin, Ninya Evoneigh, and Ravak Darrow. Since your disappearance I have served as M’Hael twice and Keeper once.” His lips twitched, "and I am currently the Master of Soldiers and Head of the Red Ajah. I am happy to answer your questions, should you have them.” Carra’s choice had certainly happened after the man’s disappearance.

“On a larger scale...Hama Valon has been rebuilt after the Seanchan nearly destroyed us. Our new city rivals Tar Valon for beauty, but I am not sure the war and deaths were worth it.” His voice was sober as he spoke of the Seanchan; when he spoke again, it was heavy with grief.

“And...I am surprised you were able to Travel here without mishap, Landrin. A ter’agreal was used to reduce this building to rubble a few years ago. Our children were in bed when it happened...we lost all but a handful.” He wet his lips. “We caught...one of the Black Ajah...but I still do not believe she is the one who committed the crime.” And Light, how that burned.

He drank again. “The White Tower has left us well enough alone. The Black...seems to be going through some internal strife. As for the Dragon Reborn,” he took a deep breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Landrin. The last thing the world needs right now is the bloody Dragon Reborn walking its surface.”
OOC: I am sooo sorry for the delay! Work got crazyface.
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

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