Elia inspected her reflection in one of the classroom windows, tucking back an errant tuft of hair behind her ear. The fine web of gold thread placed moonstones in amongst her fiery locks, which complimented the eggshell coloured dress she had chosen for today. Silk gathered in a draped neckline, low enough to reveal a silver necklace also with moonstones, but not so low to give men -- or women -- ideas.
Turning away from the view over the southern side of Hama Valon, Elia stepped back to her desk. It was a magnificent piece of mahogany, dark unlike the spindly golden wood of the chairs. She plunked herself down on the red fabric, grateful they had finally been re-upholstered. She hated lavender.
Her bondmate's nearing presence bought her back around to the business soon at hand. All of Mirin's notes and files had been lost with the destruction of the Novices' Quarters, leaving the Indigo Aes Sedai the 'honour' of piecing together all of the information from scraps. Some facts had risen beyond mere note keeping, though.
The door opened expectantly, with Weland holding the door whilst an Accepted entered the former classroom. With a brief nod, the door closed behind the woman -- this was not a conversation for servants.
"Come in, Avyra." She beckoned to one of the two chairs on the opposite side of her desk. "Please, take a seat. Would you like a honeycake?" Half a plate of the sweet pastries remained on one side of her desk.
Avyra Moeryr wasn't one of the oldest Accepted, but her tenure had been prolonged. Different women progressed at different rates, but that forward momentum had slowed to a crawl in the last few months. Possibly longer, Elia mused. The bright-eyed, tempestuous Cairhienin that her brother had described did not seem to resemble the brunette approaching her now.
Elia's lips pursed together. "I think it's time we had a talk, Avyra." The Aes Sedai sounded like a mother giving her daughter bad news. "I know these last few months have been trying. Everyone has suffered from... from the attack." From Mirin's betrayal. Her tone become softer. "There is a time to grieve, but there is also a time that we need to build ourselves back up and move on with our lives. We, you and I, have long natural lives ahead of us, and they cannot be lived in the past."
Elia straightened in her chair, and offered a commiserative smile. "Now, it's for this reason I sent for you today. Your pace of progress has slowed significantly, and that extends back before the attack on the Novices' Quarters. My brother described you as a natural Aes Sedai to me in the past, but at this pace, you may never obtain the shawl." A concerned frown marred her face. "That's not what I want for you, but... but I also don't wish to keep you here against your will." The Shienaran slid a piece of thick vellum to the centre of the desk. A wax seal adorned with the Flame of Hama Valon was already affixed at the bottom. "This is a Letter of Release. You are at a place now where you are safe to leave the Tower, to live out your life as a woman if it is what you so desire. There is no benefit to you or to the Grey Tower by forcing you to stay, if you have no compulsion to remain with us. If I sign this," she tapped the scroll, "then you can set off within the hour. But if you want to remain, you need to explain to me what has changed with you. Where did the defiant, confident girl go?"
Turning away from the view over the southern side of Hama Valon, Elia stepped back to her desk. It was a magnificent piece of mahogany, dark unlike the spindly golden wood of the chairs. She plunked herself down on the red fabric, grateful they had finally been re-upholstered. She hated lavender.
Her bondmate's nearing presence bought her back around to the business soon at hand. All of Mirin's notes and files had been lost with the destruction of the Novices' Quarters, leaving the Indigo Aes Sedai the 'honour' of piecing together all of the information from scraps. Some facts had risen beyond mere note keeping, though.
The door opened expectantly, with Weland holding the door whilst an Accepted entered the former classroom. With a brief nod, the door closed behind the woman -- this was not a conversation for servants.
"Come in, Avyra." She beckoned to one of the two chairs on the opposite side of her desk. "Please, take a seat. Would you like a honeycake?" Half a plate of the sweet pastries remained on one side of her desk.
Avyra Moeryr wasn't one of the oldest Accepted, but her tenure had been prolonged. Different women progressed at different rates, but that forward momentum had slowed to a crawl in the last few months. Possibly longer, Elia mused. The bright-eyed, tempestuous Cairhienin that her brother had described did not seem to resemble the brunette approaching her now.
Elia's lips pursed together. "I think it's time we had a talk, Avyra." The Aes Sedai sounded like a mother giving her daughter bad news. "I know these last few months have been trying. Everyone has suffered from... from the attack." From Mirin's betrayal. Her tone become softer. "There is a time to grieve, but there is also a time that we need to build ourselves back up and move on with our lives. We, you and I, have long natural lives ahead of us, and they cannot be lived in the past."
Elia straightened in her chair, and offered a commiserative smile. "Now, it's for this reason I sent for you today. Your pace of progress has slowed significantly, and that extends back before the attack on the Novices' Quarters. My brother described you as a natural Aes Sedai to me in the past, but at this pace, you may never obtain the shawl." A concerned frown marred her face. "That's not what I want for you, but... but I also don't wish to keep you here against your will." The Shienaran slid a piece of thick vellum to the centre of the desk. A wax seal adorned with the Flame of Hama Valon was already affixed at the bottom. "This is a Letter of Release. You are at a place now where you are safe to leave the Tower, to live out your life as a woman if it is what you so desire. There is no benefit to you or to the Grey Tower by forcing you to stay, if you have no compulsion to remain with us. If I sign this," she tapped the scroll, "then you can set off within the hour. But if you want to remain, you need to explain to me what has changed with you. Where did the defiant, confident girl go?"