The day's light seemed pale, with the sun caught behind thickets of grey clouds. The air held a chill, indicating that autumn was coming. As well tended as they were, some of the leaves in the Tower's gardens were already changing into oranges and yellows. The transformation still surprised Ravak, who in all of his years in Shienar, had never seen a tree colour. Everleafs were green all year round; the rest had bare branches, if the frost hadn't split them in half.
He tugged up the collar of his shirt, a dark green in a Kandori cut. A few years ago, the Gaidin wouldn't have cared if what sort of design his shirts were. A few years until the tutelage of Kaia Sedai had changed that. His trousers were a pale brown, and he looked quite unremarkable as he walked out of the Tower. Gone was the telltale Warder's cloak and his sword-breaker. He carried just his longsword and a small purse of coin, tucked behind his belt. Like this, he could go reasonably unrecognised by most of the people in Hama Valon, although anyone from the Tower had a fair shot of knowing him. He wasn't going for subterfuge, but he was looking to avoid the baggage that came with being the Master of Training.
Most of the bookstores were known to Rav, and most of those stores' owners knew the man in return. He spent the first half hour of his time peering amongst the shelves in a cramped attic, at Master Dorwell's 'selective' works. Most were texts on whose content the Brown Ajah would not be appreciative - points of views from some of the Grey Tower's former enemies. Pious titles marked out most of the ones by Whitecloaks. Rav had a couple of them, stashed away in his private study. They were terrible bores, but they did offer some insight into the minds of the men under the Dome of Truth in Amador. Today, nothing was of particular interest, so he left Master Dorwell's shop empty-handed.
The next place he stopped was Morgase's shop. The woman had never offered another name - no 'Mistress' anything for her. Morgase was nothing like her Andoran's namesake, nor did she sound Andoran. At a guess, Rav would have placed her to the north in Ghealdan, but he never thought to argue the point. That'd have just been rude. She did not have a hidden collection of books that he knew of, but he did come away with a work on weaponsmithing. The oddest things attracted Rav's interest, and this book jumped out at him. He slipped the book under his arm, and lightened his coin purse.
Coming back into the autumn air, the Shienaran began to debate his next destination. He started off to the right, roughly in the direction of at least another two bookshops, and a tavern he seldom stopped at, but was fond of nonetheless. It was when he came alongside The Rose and the Thorn that he caught a glimpse of white walking by the end of the street. There was nothing unusual about that, but something about the woman in the dress sparked his interest. He broadened his stride slightly, moving the book from his left arm to his right. The trained Gaidin in him was getting ready for a fight, even if there was nothing to indicate one was coming.
At the end of the road, Rav turned left, after the woman in white. She had vanished, but the next intersection wasn't far away. When he got to it, he found his quarry off to the right, peering into a storefront's window with an eager look. Ravak cursed his luck. With a sigh to himself, he walked over slowly, gearing himself up for... something. Conversations with the woman were always interesting.
"Avyra," he stated when he was a few paces off, his voice calm. She turned, and that was when Rav noticed. Gone was the wild novice who did as she wanted. Eight bands of colour encircled hem and wrists. Light, when did Mirin pull this one off? That went some way to explain why Avyra was in the city.
None of the surprise or curiosity showed on the Gaidin's face, but he did react. With a smile, he bowed slightly. "Congratulations, Accepted. It was about time."
He tugged up the collar of his shirt, a dark green in a Kandori cut. A few years ago, the Gaidin wouldn't have cared if what sort of design his shirts were. A few years until the tutelage of Kaia Sedai had changed that. His trousers were a pale brown, and he looked quite unremarkable as he walked out of the Tower. Gone was the telltale Warder's cloak and his sword-breaker. He carried just his longsword and a small purse of coin, tucked behind his belt. Like this, he could go reasonably unrecognised by most of the people in Hama Valon, although anyone from the Tower had a fair shot of knowing him. He wasn't going for subterfuge, but he was looking to avoid the baggage that came with being the Master of Training.
Most of the bookstores were known to Rav, and most of those stores' owners knew the man in return. He spent the first half hour of his time peering amongst the shelves in a cramped attic, at Master Dorwell's 'selective' works. Most were texts on whose content the Brown Ajah would not be appreciative - points of views from some of the Grey Tower's former enemies. Pious titles marked out most of the ones by Whitecloaks. Rav had a couple of them, stashed away in his private study. They were terrible bores, but they did offer some insight into the minds of the men under the Dome of Truth in Amador. Today, nothing was of particular interest, so he left Master Dorwell's shop empty-handed.
The next place he stopped was Morgase's shop. The woman had never offered another name - no 'Mistress' anything for her. Morgase was nothing like her Andoran's namesake, nor did she sound Andoran. At a guess, Rav would have placed her to the north in Ghealdan, but he never thought to argue the point. That'd have just been rude. She did not have a hidden collection of books that he knew of, but he did come away with a work on weaponsmithing. The oddest things attracted Rav's interest, and this book jumped out at him. He slipped the book under his arm, and lightened his coin purse.
Coming back into the autumn air, the Shienaran began to debate his next destination. He started off to the right, roughly in the direction of at least another two bookshops, and a tavern he seldom stopped at, but was fond of nonetheless. It was when he came alongside The Rose and the Thorn that he caught a glimpse of white walking by the end of the street. There was nothing unusual about that, but something about the woman in the dress sparked his interest. He broadened his stride slightly, moving the book from his left arm to his right. The trained Gaidin in him was getting ready for a fight, even if there was nothing to indicate one was coming.
At the end of the road, Rav turned left, after the woman in white. She had vanished, but the next intersection wasn't far away. When he got to it, he found his quarry off to the right, peering into a storefront's window with an eager look. Ravak cursed his luck. With a sigh to himself, he walked over slowly, gearing himself up for... something. Conversations with the woman were always interesting.
"Avyra," he stated when he was a few paces off, his voice calm. She turned, and that was when Rav noticed. Gone was the wild novice who did as she wanted. Eight bands of colour encircled hem and wrists. Light, when did Mirin pull this one off? That went some way to explain why Avyra was in the city.
None of the surprise or curiosity showed on the Gaidin's face, but he did react. With a smile, he bowed slightly. "Congratulations, Accepted. It was about time."
