The Grey Tower

"It can be a tricky thing, recalling what it was like to be dead," Jerid said with some humor as he led Miahala from the Green Ajah Hall and toward the Indigo where his apartments were. "Especially when it's right at the moment it occurs."

The Indigo could know all too well that nothing went as planned when battle occurred. He recalled the Seanchan having breached the walls of the Caralain, recalled refuges escaping through a Gateway.

His hands had been on the Portal Stone surrounded by his manor and then ...

Best not to dwell on the more horrible memories.

Navigating the twists and turns of the Tower came naturally to Jerid. He had raised children here so many decades ago. Later, he would raise grandchildren.

He would have raised a son here too had things not turned upside down.

It wasn't too long before the two channelers made their way to Jerid's apartments. All the while, he observed Miahala. Never had he recalled the woman so withdrawn from the world, but rather strove to react to it when danger presented itself.

The scar across her cheek was perhaps an indicator of deeper ones.

He had his own scars from the battles he had fought, so he understood the desire not to speak on it.

The door opened to a modest common room, with sparse furnishing. They had been the apartments assigned to him in the past, as a Third Sitter. He hadn't required much in those days. And it had been left much as it had been when Jerid had departed for the Caralain to take a more active role in his own House.

A few wooden panels decorated the walls, all of them elegantly carved scenes, all done by Jerid in days now gone past. One was the Battle of the Lights, when the Children of the Light had marched on the Grey Tower under the charm of a Dreadlord. The other carvings held similar scenes of different battles.

Jerid waved Miahala in and toward a modestly overstuffed chair. Taking hold of saidin, Jerid wove flows of Fire, igniting the various candles and lanterns placed around the room.

"Lean back on your knife and let your tongue go free," the Indigo said as he opened a cupboard to remove a clay jug and two wooden cups.

The oosqui that he poured was strong and could have felled a horse if applied in the proper amount. He normally didn't indulge, but this occasion warranted it.

Setting the jug down on a table, the Indigo handed a cup to the Green and murmured. "To life after well, something else."

As she walked into Jerid's apartment, she took a quick survey of the sitting room. She noted the carvings, and the Battle of Lights--all that led to it and all that followed--was hard to forget. She didn't spend much time examining things, since she felt it rude and this was a time for companionship. So not being rude was a point to her. She smiled faintly, politely, as she moved to the seat he gestured to.

Let your tongue go free. It was a salutation that amused her, since she could remember a very few times in the past decades that she had truly done such a thing. Not even in the presence of her children, since she felt that it was a mother's duty to not put her own burdens on her children so she watched herself even then. Only with Caden.

With a quiet 'thank you,' she took the cup he handed to her and the small smile remained. "To life," she toasted simply. "And to living it."

Jerid nodded at Miahala's toast, raising his glass in acknowledgement.

“To a life well lived,” Jerid murmured, sipping from the cup. Fifty years ago he might have choked on the strong liquor but in recent years he had acquired a taste for the Aiel drink. It was hard to come by, but then he had known a Goshien spearman quite well.

Still, it packed quite a kick that would put a Two Rivers mule to shame.

“I understand Durrent has returned to these halls,” he mused after a second sip. “I have to say, as his Keeper, I almost felt compelled to chain him to the desk when he was M'Hael because of his little 'excursions' outside the Tower.”

Then again, in the years before and after he had a Warder, he had been guilty of such things himself. A flattened building in a shady part of Hama Valon was proof of that.

Jerid tilted his head and smiled as he looked at Miahala.

“In some respects those were simpler days, and in others, more difficult,” he murmured. “At least some children get to grow up.”

Looking at his friend, he tried to adjust the topic.

“What are your plans now that you're back here, home and among the young?” he asked.

The drink was powerful, and it had been a long time since her throat had tasted oosqui, but her body seemed to remember it well enough to not embarrass her with an overt reaction. She almost rather liked its power, since strength in things had always been something she sought out and admired.

"I don't know about you, brother, but my days were never simple," she replied, her eyes glinting with humor. "I don't know that I would wish them so, either, past or present or future. What is a life worth living and how is it lived well if it is not awash with complexities and challenges? Being dead was simple, and thus did not suit me." It felt good to have someone with whom her wry wit could properly assert itself, since she would not show this side to just anyone.

Her lips curved in a small smile again as she took another sip. "Yes, I have heard the same, and I hope to soon be able to see him again. In this Tower of the young, I am eager to reacquaint with old friends." She paused thoughtfully. "As such, you may well be the only one who I will admit this to, but I honestly don't know. I'm sure I will soon return to my work and calling as a Green, help the Tower and head out into the world to battle the darkness. Yet I am also troubled by the mystery of my life, and find myself..." She sought the word.

Memories rushed through her again, as she tried to form a word to properly convey her issue. Mia sighed. "I spent so long with someone by my side in that mission. I'm not entirely sure of how to go about it alone again." An errant strand of hair, auburn mixed with tendrils of grey, slipped forward and she tucked it behind her ear. "But I will manage. I always have." Another sip. "And you, my friend. What are your plans, then?"