In his years since coming to the Tower, Alric had done an admirable job of keeping the aimless morass that had consumed him in the years before at bay. Sometimes, however, he could feel it creeping back. He spent his days learning and training. For what though? Was he a soldier? Would he lead troops into battle? If so against whom? Still the siren song of scholarship called to him. He tried not to dwell on his past choices, but he did sometimes wonder who he might have been had he stayed in Mayene. An up and coming scholar hoping to leave his mark most likely. There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t still be that man, was there? It would be a stable life away from the split second life or death decisions of the battlefield. No more long marches and life on the road with new lands ahead. The futures of hundreds wouldn’t rest on his judgement. He could say goodbye to the the pain and drudgery. He would also be saying goodbye to the excitement and comradery. And the sense of purpose….
No, scholarship had it’s own rewards. It had it’s own purpose. He needed to prove it to himself. It had been a scant week since he’d battled his way across the rooftops and through the alleys of Hama Valon. Despite his injuries and the death and destruction, Alric had enjoyed fighting with his sword and the Power. He had felt more alive than almost any other time. The other times were less distinct. Bursts of inspiration, flashes of insight.
Striding purposefully, through the Indigo quarters, Alric searched out that second, more elusive high. The crumpled flyer in his hand was a few months old, but hopefully they still needed warm bodies. After getting turned about and finally asking for directions he found himself in front of a large wooden door. He knocked. Hopefully Elia Sedai still needed ter’angreal testers.
No, scholarship had it’s own rewards. It had it’s own purpose. He needed to prove it to himself. It had been a scant week since he’d battled his way across the rooftops and through the alleys of Hama Valon. Despite his injuries and the death and destruction, Alric had enjoyed fighting with his sword and the Power. He had felt more alive than almost any other time. The other times were less distinct. Bursts of inspiration, flashes of insight.
Striding purposefully, through the Indigo quarters, Alric searched out that second, more elusive high. The crumpled flyer in his hand was a few months old, but hopefully they still needed warm bodies. After getting turned about and finally asking for directions he found himself in front of a large wooden door. He knocked. Hopefully Elia Sedai still needed ter’angreal testers.