The Grey Tower

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll meet plenty of potential Warders, in time,” Jaren agreed lightly. For one, he was planning on learning weapon skills himself, sooner or later, so he was guaranteed to run into some of them in the training grounds in the daytime as well. “And I don’t know about better impression. Should I respect someone who came here to seek fame and fortune as a Warder, over one who came here to find a means to help his family?” A rhetorical question. And whether a person sought fame, fortune or simply a purpose — or something else entirely — they all learnt things in the Tower, grew and likely changed a little whether they wanted to or not. One’s purpose for coming to the Tower was hardly the most important factor to judge them on.

Jaren sighed and, with some reluctance, sat up again; he didn’t think he’d actually fall asleep mid conversation, but his eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and he preferred not to take the chance. Not even to see how Johan would react. “I’m going to have to brush this coat before showing up to class in the morning, aren’t I…” he muttered, a little ruefully. “Speaking of which, we should probably try to get some sleep before dawn.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Johan again. “Or at least I should; I wouldn’t presume to speak for you.”

When it came to Warders, respect had very little to do with it. Johan knew that if he was a channeler he’d rather rely on the Warder who wanted to be here than the one who’d only come to help his family, but then, he reminded himself, he was never going to get that far. There was never going to be a day where a channeler thought of him as potential Warder, because he wasn’t going to let it happen. But still, he had to disagree with Jared. The better impression would always be made by the one who was happy about being here. No one wanted to see reluctance, did they? But Johan knew a rhetorical question when he heard one, and so he said nothing.

Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, quickly buttoning up his shirt and reaching for his shoes. He gathered up his belongings in his arms. He didn’t think that he would sleep, not with the nightmares, but he knew that he couldn’t stay out here all night. Someone would eventually catch him.

He ran a hand through his own hair and then bowed and smiled. “I think sleep is probably a good idea. It was nice meeting you.”

Jaren stood up as well, trying to dust off his trousers. There were downsides to the unrelieved black of the Asha’man uniform, as much as he appreciated the aesthetic. He returned Johan’s smile warmly, though. “It was nice to meet you, too,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll see you around the training grounds.” That was a little redundant, probably; they did have classes, too, and the Tower wasn’t that big in the end, but he blamed the late hour.

He gave a cheery wave and started back towards the Tower and the Soldiers’ quarters. Now all he had to do was not get caught… and hope Marten was sound asleep.