The Grey Tower

She can’t eat meat. How had his Eyes and Ears failed to carry that big of information? Avyra herself seemed less than concerned by his failure, but Red fumed at his shortcomings. What else had gone unnoticed by his network? How much had he let slip while he battled himself? Cursing silently, Jaryd handed his bread to the tiny Accepted, suddenly glad that he had taken a larger piece than he normally would have. She ate as if famished -as surely she was- while Jaryd picked at the pie, still contemplating what he needed to do to re-establish his Eyes and Ears.

Once finished, there was a moment of silence, and then abruptly he found himself holding a tiny, shivering bundle of wet wool and pale skin, Avyra’s head resting on his chest and her hands balled up between them. “I’m scared,” she said simply. Jaryd stared down at his companion in utter shock, any vestige of Asha’man dignity gone. Light, she was terrified, shaking like a newborn fawn.

“I am sorry,” he managed to get out through the fog that had overtaken his mind. “I’m so sorry.” It took some time, but eventually the Altaran was able to move. He lifted the girl bodily with another mumbled apology, then settled her in his lap to curl against him. Then he tugged his cloak off to wrap it around her shoulders as well. She started to protest, but he put a finger to her lips. “I am fine,” he lied, shifting his shoulders against the wall to find a more comfortable spot.

“I told you too much about our errand,” he continued in a remorseful tone. “That is a heavy burden for one without the training to carry it. I know it is small comfort, but...please believe that you are safe. If I get even the slightest hint that that is not so, we will leave immediately.”

“Even if your work isn’t done?”

“Even if my work isn’t done. Do you truly believe I value my curiosity over your life?” He sighed softly at the silence that greeted his question. “Sleep, Kyella. Tomorrow is another day.” Avyra slept as ordered, but she flinched and shrugged often, pushing at him then clinging to him by turns as she struggled with whatever monsters plagued her dreams. Jaryd did his best to comfort and sooth; eventually the Cairhienin woman fell into a deeper slumber.

Through the longest, coldest, darkest night of the year, Jaryd sat in silence and clung to the Void. It allowed him to ignore the cold, the discomfort of sitting in the dirt, and the confused maelstrom of fear, regret, shock, and guilt that had joined his grief and rage.

When his companion stirred the next morning, Jaryd opened his eyes and yawned as if he, too, had slept. Thanks to his bond, he hadn’t needed to. They disentangled and he pushed himself to his feet, gravely putting his cloak around his shoulders. “We will get food, I will listen to the local gossip for a bit, and then it’s wall climbing time,” he said with a half-smile. “Watch how I talk to the street vendors- they’ll try to cheat you if you seem uncertain.”

Then he led her out of the alley and back into the bustling, muddy, and malodorous reality of the Foregate.

The Accepted clung to Jaryd’s arm, her fingers digging into muscle like cold spikes. There had clearly been some misinformation or misunderstandings in his network, Jaryd decided as he and the younger woman emerged into one of the marginally broader “main” streets of the Foregate. Then again, there is a significant difference between a classroom and knowingly stepping into a Dreadlord’s lair, he reminded himself. His time in black felt very far away indeed.

Eventually he found a ramshackle hut from which the tantalizing scent of breakfast foods wafted. He looked down at his companion and found her gaze was fixed on the sky, eyes so wide that white showed all around. The Asha’man glanced up and saw a brief shadow flit by before the milling mass around them surged and yanked Avyra away from him.

He soon understood why his contacts had directed him to the tiny Cairhienin woman. He watched her exchange silently, right up to the point where she leveled the man who had knocked her over with as good a punch as any Gaidin could have delivered. Then, cool as pie, she informed him that the man now curled on the ground had denied her a glimpse of a falcon. That’s what it took to release that fire? “How very unseemly of him,” he commented. His tone was flat and dry, but to his surprise real mirth bubbled within, and she smiled when their eyes met. When was the last time that had happened?

Feeling oddly unsettled, yet strangely warm, Jaryd led them away before Avyra’s victim could call the guard.

It did not take long to find another place to get food, though unfortunately not hot. He told the young woman manning the cart about the troubles he and Kyella had run into on the road, spinning a story that had her wide-eyed with concern. To his delight, when he asked for an apple to share with his “sister,” she gave him two and a small loaf of bread. Unfortunately she knew nothing that could assist him in his real reason for coming to the city; he took his leave soon after.

Avyra’s eyes never left the sky. Hiding a smile, Jaryd led her back into the alleys, gaze scanning the walls for a likely spot. “Here,” he said finally, gesturing to a ramshackle stone and wood building perhaps four spans tall. “Someone who can climb trees as admirably as you seems likely to have a knack for climbing walls, as well.”

“What?”

He grinned as he took her pack from her and slung it over his own shoulder. “I remember plucking novice Avyra out of a tree,” he said, amusement rippling through his voice. “Climbing buildings isn’t all that different. I chose this spot because there’s a clear path up. See?” He pointed out likely handholds and places to put her feet. “We don’t necessarily need to be on the roof right now, but it’s a good skill to have.”

“While you’re practicing, why don’t you tell me why I didn’t know you could knock a grown man out cold? That was a fantastic punch.”

The Asha’man took care to watch every move Avyra made as she scaled the wall. She took to it naturally, to his combined amusement and relief. The equivalence he had drawn between trees and walls was not entirely truthful, but it had clearly given his companion the confidence she needed to succeed. She showed no fear about dropping to the ground, either.

His eyebrows went up at her abbreviated explanation of her skill. I had some friends. The past tense rang clear despite her obvious reticence, and Jaryd frowned. He had heard she liked to fight, of course, but his network had brought him no news of any kind of altercation among the learning ranks. Then again, they had not brought him entirely accurate information on Avyra herself. When he got back to the Tower, he would be having a word with his contacts for sure.

“It’s true, friendship can be complicated,” he commented as he watched her ascend once more, “and losing a friend or a lover is extremely painful.” He leaned against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets. “But the worth of what they taught us is not diminished by their loss, and the memories we had with them can be honored even when it hurts.” He fell quiet for a moment.

“If you ever do want to talk about it, I am willing to listen,” the Red said finally, as Avyra dropped to the ground once more. “Perhaps not all is as bad as you think.”

The young woman had so many faces. Recalcitrant. Ecstatic. Angry. Frightened. Lonely. And now...heart-broken. Over Terric, of all people! The Asha’man pulled the small piece of bread from his sleeve and nibbled on it as he listened to Avyra speak, his thoughts busy. Perhaps the legendary animosity between Cairhien and the Waste could have played a role, but that seemed unlikely, given Terric’s demeanor as a Gaidin.

“It is heartbreaking that you had to experience that,” Jaryd said quietly, his free hand dropping to wrap his thumb through the loop on Watari’s hilt. “And I am sorry for the loss of your friends. The explosion," he could not blame it on Mirin, not after the look he had seen in the woman's eyes, "took many from us who did not deserve to die.” He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I believe that heartbreak and loneliness cut deeper than any steel blade, but leave no trace by which another might recognize the wound. They are easily overlooked, yet they require time and care to heal the same as any other damage we endure throughout our lives.” The aching emptiness where Kaia should have been throbbed in response to his words, and he closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe evenly.

When he spoke again, his voice was steady. “As for your love- I do not personally know Terric, but I know of him. He does not seem the type to toy with a girl’s heart. I would hazard a guess that he ended things after he gained his cloak, yes?” Avyra had dropped to the ground again; she nodded without speaking, and he nodded in response.

“There is an immeasurable gap between Ji’val and Gaidin- perhaps more even than that between Accepted and Aes Sedai. When the Gaidin gain their cloak, they swear oaths and take the safety of the entire Tower in their hands. If they accept a bond, then they must place the health and sanity of another human being over their own for the rest of their lives- and hold true to their Oaths to the Tower as well. It is what their order exists to do- an honor they train for many years to accept. As such, keeping those oaths must be their ultimate priority.” He took a bite of bread.

“For Terric, it is even more important. Consider for a moment the phrase ji’e’toh. If you were involved with Terric, you’ve probably heard it before, yes? It is the name of the code that defines and governs every Aielman’s life, including his. It means 'Honor and Obligation' in the Old Tongue. He would starve himself to death while facing a mountain of baked goods rather than break that code. Once he swore his Oath to the Tower, his culture demanded he give it his all. It is very likely he had no grasp of what it would entail before then- and as soon as he knew, he made sure to give you the freedom you need to enjoy your life.”

Jaryd took two steps and slipped his fingers beneath Avyra’s chin. He tilted her face up to meet his gaze, dark eyes sober. “You deserve love and friendship as much as any other person in this world,” he said gently. “Do not let another person’s choices make or destroy you.”

Sad green eyes.

Jaryd stared down at Avyra, eyes wide and breath caught in his throat. He stood not in an alleyway, but rather in his old study, and Kaia stood across from him. The Altaran could hear the hurt in her voice, see it in her eyes, feel it to his very bones through their bond. He had made her feel that way. He had. And then he was kneeling in the M’Hael’s antechamber, wailing as he clutched his lover to his chest.

“I’ll be fine,” she said calmly. He blinked, disoriented. “I just need time.” Yes...time. Time so he could find a Healer. Where was Murdock? If he had time- no. This isn’t right.

Jaryd shook himself, the images dragging at him like brambles as he fought back to the surface. He looked down at a woman who had beautiful green eyes, but was not Kaia. She was young and pale. Avyra. Avyra, who was young, and sad, and frightened, and needed guidance rather than the madness of grief. He could give her that. He had to- he’d been the one who brought her out of the Tower, after all.

The Red smiled; when he did, it felt as if he hadn’t moved in a thousand years. “Whatever the reason for his choices, what I said is still true: do not let them destroy you. You deserve love and joy, and I promise you will receive both.” He stepped away and glanced around the alleyway.

“Distraction will help,” he said. “You scaled that wall beautifully- I can’t wait to see how you do with bigger ones.” His smile was genuine now, and his tone approving. “However, it’s time to get down to my business. I need to listen to rumors and gossip, and follow the leads I find. Stay within earshot, please, but you are free to do as you wish.” He hesitated a moment, then added, "The Festival of Lights can be rather shocking in this city and it only gets worse as the day goes on. Right now it shouldn't be too bad, but later on....brace yourself."