With an expression of great tranquility and composure, Elia turned the square of crisp white paper over and over again between her fingers. There was a lot to learn from this one, simple object. Her eyes noted the slight crookedness to the fold, indicating that it was to be passed on without looking. The fact it was square meant that it should have been burnt after reading, but occasionally - very ocassionally - things slipped by the Asha'man she was charged to look over. The handwriting on the front was beautifully written. A woman's hand, someone with a goodly amount of education. Just six simple letters on the outside, and very little within.
Elia brought the letter to her nose. No scent of perfume, or of flowers. Whomever wrote these letters liked their flowers. A botanist, perhaps? There were a small clique of Aes Sedai and Asha'man who tended to the gardens. Some were even Plantweavers. She knew the names of each and every one of them - it wasn't just the Black Ajah that kept track of people. No talent known by anyone in the Tower wasn't also known to the Indigo Ajah, and by extension of her position, to Elia herself.
Elia let the letter go, dropping it to the low table in the middle of the room. With a slight effort, she sat up on the chaise longue and got to her feet. She didn't have the luxury to spend all afternoon looking at a letter in a vain effort to identify its sender. She would just have to be patient.
She crossed to the other table in the room, upon which sat her tea set. Channelling a small thread of Fire in the teapot quickly made steam spout forth. Placing one of the tea flowers into a cup, she poured the water carefully, and watched the beauty of the blossom unfolding as the water flavoured.
The bells across the Grey Tower rang out, indicating a change in activities. Elia knew it was now the second free hour for Accepted, and hopefully the servant she'd sent out would now be intercepting one Avyra Moeryr, newly raised to the ring. Whilst the majority of her time as of late concerned the Black Ajah, she still remained a sister of the Indigo, and had duties there to attend to as well. And who knows, maybe I can scoop her into two different Ajahs at once, if she seems suited.
A few minutes later, there was the expected timid knock on the door. Who knows what ran through the minds of Accepted when they were summoned to see a Sitter of the Hall. Elia had been petrified meeting the Keeper of the Chronicles once, not aided in the slightest by the presence of the Keeper of the Archives, Jaryd as it was then. She touched her neck in memory of that day. She had been so young and afraid, so unsure of herself. Elia Darrow the Accepted would have baulked at the woman she had become, but then even now, Elia Darrow the Aes Sedai wished that her life had turned out differently.
"Come in, Avyra," she called. A prior meeting with the girl had established a first name basis, once she would continue as long as the child remembered the correct respect. Elia had worked too long and too hard to let anyone forget exactly who she was, and how high she stood.
Elia brought the letter to her nose. No scent of perfume, or of flowers. Whomever wrote these letters liked their flowers. A botanist, perhaps? There were a small clique of Aes Sedai and Asha'man who tended to the gardens. Some were even Plantweavers. She knew the names of each and every one of them - it wasn't just the Black Ajah that kept track of people. No talent known by anyone in the Tower wasn't also known to the Indigo Ajah, and by extension of her position, to Elia herself.
Elia let the letter go, dropping it to the low table in the middle of the room. With a slight effort, she sat up on the chaise longue and got to her feet. She didn't have the luxury to spend all afternoon looking at a letter in a vain effort to identify its sender. She would just have to be patient.
She crossed to the other table in the room, upon which sat her tea set. Channelling a small thread of Fire in the teapot quickly made steam spout forth. Placing one of the tea flowers into a cup, she poured the water carefully, and watched the beauty of the blossom unfolding as the water flavoured.
The bells across the Grey Tower rang out, indicating a change in activities. Elia knew it was now the second free hour for Accepted, and hopefully the servant she'd sent out would now be intercepting one Avyra Moeryr, newly raised to the ring. Whilst the majority of her time as of late concerned the Black Ajah, she still remained a sister of the Indigo, and had duties there to attend to as well. And who knows, maybe I can scoop her into two different Ajahs at once, if she seems suited.
A few minutes later, there was the expected timid knock on the door. Who knows what ran through the minds of Accepted when they were summoned to see a Sitter of the Hall. Elia had been petrified meeting the Keeper of the Chronicles once, not aided in the slightest by the presence of the Keeper of the Archives, Jaryd as it was then. She touched her neck in memory of that day. She had been so young and afraid, so unsure of herself. Elia Darrow the Accepted would have baulked at the woman she had become, but then even now, Elia Darrow the Aes Sedai wished that her life had turned out differently.
"Come in, Avyra," she called. A prior meeting with the girl had established a first name basis, once she would continue as long as the child remembered the correct respect. Elia had worked too long and too hard to let anyone forget exactly who she was, and how high she stood.
