The Grey Tower

Once again, Kiellan had been late. He still had a hard time getting used to the strict punctuality of the Grey Tower. He had been living there for a few months now, but it was hard to undo years and years of upbringing. Back home, he rarely had appointments, and if he did, nobody cared if someone was five minutes late. The people of the Grey Tower, however, acted as if tardiness was a crime of the worst kind, deserving of capital punishment. Very occasionally, he had been able to talk his way out of punishment, but usually, he spent his free hours scraping pots or emptying chamber pots.

The Accepted who had taught today's class had been particularly angry. She had sent him straight to the Master of Soldiers for penance. And now, after having to sit through Soti Asha'man's lecture on how intolerable his behavior was, he was finally on his way back to the Soldier quarters. Soti's words still rang through his head. It is never acceptable to be late, but here, in the Grey Tower, it is of he utmost importance. We are soldiers of the Light, boy, and in the fight against the Shadow, nothing but the utmost focus will be sufficient. After that, the Master of Soldiers had decided he could spend the half hour after his lessons helping in the kitchen for the rest of the week. Kiellan cringed again at the thought. He hated working in the kitchen, where he would have to clean up other people's mess and try to get the most disgusting things imaginable scraped off the pans.

Lost in this train of thought, he turned a corner, only to find someone else attempting the same. As he crashed into the other person, his book that he had been carrying for his reading class fell out of his hands. Feeling annoyed, he picked up his book, planning to continue his walk, until he realized who the other was. He had seen this man before, with his olive skin and dark hair. He had come to the Grey Tower not too long ago, and Kiellan was still not sure if he was a petitioner who had been permitted to stay for a while, or something else. He didn't recognize him as a resident of the Tower, that at least was certain. But more importantly, at least to Kiellan, was the fact that he was unmistakably Altaran. In his curiosity, Kiellan always asked visitors for news of the outside world, but it had been a long time since he had heard anything about his homeland. This man must know something.

"Excuse me, sir. If I may be so direct, can I ask you a strange question? I have noticed you are a new arrival here, and it has been long since I have heard news of Altara. Do you by any chance know anything?"

Jaryd had been home for a few days now, and he had started to get comfortable with Tower life again. On this particular day he wore dark gray breeches, a white shirt, and a deep red silk vest, with front panels that fell nearly to his knees. He had shaved his face, but left his hair in its cap of curls; he had grown accustomed to it that way. He opted to leave his belt knife in his quarters, and instead carried a book on the laws and culture of Tar Valon under one arm. He had set out earlier in search of a place to read, but had instead found himself distracted by the long galleries that filled the levels below the Ajah quarters and led to the various classrooms. He sat for a time on a bench across from a massive painting of what he thought might be the fall of Manetheren, but soon his feet began to itch, and he set off again.

Although he heard footprints approaching from around the corner, his thoughts were busy and he misjudged the distance; as he emerged, a figure collided with him and bounced back, dropping his book. The boy had dark hair and dark eyes, and his skin was maybe a shade lighter than Jaryd's own. Despite his strict black soldier's attire, the person who scrambled for the fallen tome could not have seemed more Altaran if he tried. He had crossed paths with the Master of Soldiers shortly after his arrival, and after some small talk the other man had told him of a tall soldier who shared some of Jaryd's heritage. This boy certainly had to be the one.

The soldier's scowl faded as soon as he took in Jaryd's appearance. Something resembling hope crossed his face, and the Red took a breath to keep his own expressive features still. "Excuse me, sir. If I may be so direct, can I ask you a strange question? I have noticed you are a new arrival here, and it has been long since I have heard news of Altara. Do you by any chance know anything?"

Jaryd stayed silent for a moment, thinking. "Kiellan, isn't it?" he said finally. His new companion nodded, confirming what Jaryd had already suspected. "My name is Jaryd, it's good to meet you." He smiled, though he had to tilt his head up to make direct eye contact with the much taller man.

"It's not such a strange thing to ask about your home, you know. I remember the feeling all too well- locked away, separate, worried about my family and friends, yet unable to help them even if something were to happen...I digress. To answer your question: as far as I am aware, Ebou Dar is much like it has always been. The biggest news in the Rahad is that the Dancing Badger burned down a few months ago, and when the owner rebuilt he decided to call it the Lucky Mark...he's a strange fellow with a strange sense of humor. Those flying creatures the Seanchan use for scouting have been spotted nearby, but that's not unusual and they haven't made a move."

He tucked his book further under his arm, and cocked his head to the side. "Tell me a little about yourself and your home," he said invitingly, "perhaps we share some common acquaintances." Most were likely a generation apart, but still- he would recognize some names instantly.

Kiellan was surprised that the man knew his name. He had no clue who the person facing him was, and Kiellan couldn't imagine anything he had done that could make him well-known. Maybe the Master of Soldiers had named him as one of the more disobedient Soldiers, but that was hardly something this man would be interested in. Even though he wasn't exactly new to the Tower anymore, he still didn't think many people knew who he was, especially people who had only been in the Tower for days, like this man.

He was pleased, more than he had thought he would be, at the man's politeness. It was an unwritten rule in Altara to treat everyone who hadn't wronged you politely, and the fact that this man did just that almost made him feel home for a second. He hadn't heard the name before, Jaryd, but while it was difficult to judge the man's face, he had to be at least a decade older than Kiellan, and even than, the Rahad was still quite a large place. Nevertheless, it was riveting to hear someone speak of home.

Kiellan closed his eyes as the man spoke, trying to paint a picture in his head of the story. He knew the Dancing Badger, it was one of the bigger inns in the Rahad. Its owner, while indeed a strange man with a strange sense of humor, was usually kinder to Kiellan than most, and he had occasionally spent his afternoons there, talking to the travelers who didn't have enough money to buy a room in the main part of Ebou Dar. It was in that inn that he had played his first game of Snakes and Foxes, when he was still a little boy. A Taraboner merchant had brought it with him to sell, but had been unable to do so thus far, and had spent an evening teaching the game to Kiellan. The little boy had tried again and again to win the game, but he had failed everytime. It had been years before someone had told him that the game was meant to be impossible to win. Kiellan smiled at the memory, his eyes still closed, trying to lose himself in the memories for just a moment.

The mention of the Seanchans scared him for a second, until he remembered that the animals the man -Jaryd, Kiellan reminded himself- had been less and less unheard of even before he left. He had heard someone call them raken, and while they looked fearsome, apparently they were supposed to be just scouts. If those were still deployed, it meant the Seanchans still weren't ready to march on Ebou Dar. That was good.

He smiled thankfully at Jaryd. "Apparently, you know my name," he answered. "You may know my mother, however. Shannah Lomore. She was a healer, the best in the Rahad." He beamed with pride as he said it. His mother had been respected for her crafts, which were put to the test often in an area as violent as the Rahad. "My father is Jonna Lomore, nothing more than a thief. We live near the river, just on the right when you cross the bridge from Ebou Dar. I used to go to the main part of the city all the time. It was much more beautiful than the Rahad, and it smelled magnificent. Although," he added with a smile, "now that I've lived here for a while, that might be only when you compare it to the Rahad."

He realized once more how much he had missed home, and how good it felt to simply talk about it, especially to someone who also knew it. "So, I take it you are from the Rahad as well?" Kiellan knew it was probably a stupid question, but he couldn't stop looking at the beautiful red silk vest the man was wearing, and it was hard to imagine someone dressed so perfectly could come from such a destitute place.

Shannah Lomore had become the best healer in the Rahad? He knew that name, but in his memory Shannah was a young woman with a brood of small children, who provided warm food on a cold night and spent a bit of time with a red-belted Wise Woman. Of course, knowing what he knew now, Jaryd supposed that both Wise Woman and Shannah could probably channel, and Kiellan was quite lucky that his family had not been ripped apart at a much younger age.

He laughed at Kiellan’s comment about Ebou Dar proper smelling better- it had indeed! When Kiellan asked where he was from, Jaryd grinned, his dark eye twinkling in most un-Asha’man like amusement. “Yes, I am from the Rahad,” he admitted, his vocal tone dropping and gaining the rough edge it had had in his youth. “And I remember your mother. I may even remember you- she had a number of children, if I recall correctly…unfortunately, I was a young man, and intent on things I saw as more glorious than the care and keeping of children.” His tone was humorous, not dismissive- he knew how hard it was to care for children.

He remembered abruptly that this young man did not know his name, and shook his head at himself. “My name is Jaryd,” he said finally. “My mother and father were Remen and Eilana Kosari. My father was a woodworker, but after I left, they kept to themselves a lot more.” He sighed…his father was getting old. “I left the Rahad when I was eighteen, and I think at least another twenty years have passed since then…I admit I lost track, somewhere around the time I earned the sword pin.”

Niceties aside and discomforted by thoughts of his parents’ age, he asked “How has the Grey Tower been treating you, Kiellan?”

Kiellan felt an unexpectedly strong rush of joy at the man's confirmation of his place of birth. After such a long time of seeing nothing but strange people from different places, it was extremely good to see someone from home, even if this man hadn't lived there for a long time. Kiellan loved to learn about all the different cultures that seemed to come together like a crossroads of nations, but even that knowledge didn't satisfy his yearning to see his family, his home. Perhaps talking about it would, even for a little bit.

The feeling of joy only grew when the man mentioned his mother. Even though she had never been an easy woman, and had only been hardened by the challenge of raising six children in a violent area like the Rahad, she had still cared for him, and she had been the only reason he had survived his youth. She had certainly been a lot more helpful than his deadbeat father, and he loved her more than anything. Having someone here who knew her, or even just met her a couple times, excited him to no end. He laughed, partly at the man's joke, but mostly out of pure joy.

He thought he recognized the names of this man's parents. He didn't think they still worked, however. He remembered Eilana Kosari, an older woman with gray hair who had been frequenting his mother's shop more and more often, for various small illnesses and other problems that came with growing old. He wouldn't bother the man -Jaryd- with that, however. Kiellan smiled again. "Thank you, mister Kosari. One can grow lonely after several years at the Tower. I cannot express my gratitude enough for lifting that weight off my heart."

He weighed Jaryd's question in his head. It was harder than it seemed to answer what ,at first, seemed like such an easy question. "It has been... good, I suppose. Thank you for asking. I've never been apart from my family before, though. I haven't seen them in eighteen months, and that's hard. I miss home, I feel lonely sometimes. But I love the vast array of knowledge that is present here, the different people and the amazing library. If it hadn't been for the overabundance of rules, this place would probably be my perfect home." It was true, he thought. He did like it here, even if he was lonely sometimes. But he was surprised at himself, sharing so much with this man he had met only moments ago. Clearly, the sight of someone from home and the news had made him emotional.

Jaryd's nodded acknowledgement as the soldier spoke to him. He and this boy had a lot more than their home city in common. Not that it surprised him: Ebou Dar, and the Rahad in particular, bred a certain kind of human. May he have a calmer life than I, he thought, bemused. Kiellan stopped talking with a surprised look on his face, clearly realizing how much he had just revealed about himself, and Jaryd gave him an understanding look.

"If you don't mind, I would like to share something about my past," he said finally. Kiellan nodded, puzzled, and Jaryd took another moment to collect his thoughts.

"I was no carefree boy before I came here," he said finally. "I lead a gang in the Rahad, so I was used to running my own life in whatever way I saw fit. In addition, I spent some time in the Black Tower because of an- incident." His eyes were distant. "The code of conduct there is irrational and brutal, and impossible to live by. They beat me with their fists and also with saidin, locked me up, starved me. I ran away, finally, despite knowing the penalty if caught was death." His tone was musing, lost in the past.

"I came to the Grey Tower looking for freedom from the guilt and anger I felt about the One Power, and answers to my questions. It took years to finally find what I was looking for, and in the mean time the rules were stifling! They represented everything I hated about myself, and kept me from doing the things I enjoyed- and I developed quite an attitude as I fought against them."

He seemed to return to the present then, his broad grin splitting his face in half. "I tell you all this, because I can tell you these many years later that being an Asha'man is absolutely worth every second of restriction I endured while I was trained. Ironically enough, my turning point came when I fell in love with justice and the laws of the Westlands. Once I started those studies, I began to understand why the Tower has the rules it does.

"Maybe your studies won't go that route, but I can promise you that if you are able to both maintain your identity and follow the code with respect, you will come out of this experience a better man than you ever could have been on your own. I would strongly caution against demonstrating your individuality by throwing novices into the fountain, however. I might have personal experience there." He winked.

He paused, thoughtful. "What are you interested in? Has there been any mention of what your Talents may be?"

Kiellan was surprised at how comfortable this man seemed with him, and how interested the other man seemed to be in him. It was a rather unfamiliar feeling. Back home in the Rahad, nobody except for maybe his mother and brother had ever cared about what he did, as long as it didn't directly concern them or had the possibility of harming them. As different as the Grey Tower was, this seemed to be one thing the two places had in common. The Aes Sedai and Asha'man gave him more attention than most of the people in the Rahad, but that was mostly about some small rule he had apparently broken, and never about a personal interest in him as a human being. Except for Valadin, perhaps. Still, as weird as it felt, it was also nice that this man -Jaryd- seemed to care.

He was surprised to learn that this kind looking man had once lead a gang in the Rahad. Gangs were probably bad everywhere, but even in a violence-infested place like the Rahad, the gangs had had a bad reputation. Still, as surprising as it was, Kiellan couldn't bring himself to judge Jaryd for it. He knew his life hadn't been especially hard for someone from the Rahad, with the respect people had for his mother, but even than, the constant struggle for survival was never easy. For someone who didn't have the same security that his mother had been able to give him, he could see the allure of the gangs. Nobody would dare touch one of them, out of fear for revenge, except for other gangs. They provided safety, food and companionship. And to have his experience in the Black Tower on top of that... Kiellan couldn't bring himself to feel anything but sympathy.

Kiellan smiled as Jaryd talked about the suffocating rules. With that, he could certainly sympathize. The words of support were comforting, although Kiellan still didn't understand why the other man spoke them. He hoped that one day, he would find something, some study or cause, that would make this all worth it. That being Asha'man was as good as everyone said it was, as good as this man said it was. And he would do it with dignity, remaining true to himself.

He laughed at the other man's joke, and thought hard about the question. "I'm not sure yet where my interests lie. I would like to learn something about these laws, I think. As you know, the Rahad doesn't have a whole lot of them, but the concept seems fascinating. I like history, too. I think some of the Browns expect me to join their Ajah, but I have no idea yet. Valadin, one of the Dedicated here, has been training me in Battle Weaves. I seem to be okay with them. As for the rest... I guess it has yet to show itself. But as I said, I love how much knowledge has been gathered here, and I don't think I will get bored here soon." Kiellan hesitated. He knew he would probably be in trouble, but he decided to ask the question anyway. "Excuse me, master Kosari, I don't mean to offend you. But your words seem to suggest you are an Asha'man. Yet, I don't believe I have ever seen you around here. Why is that?"

Jaryd smiled grimly at the mention of Battle Weaves. Male channelers seemed well fit for such a pursuit, but even after years of training, the memory of his time in the Black Tower made the idea of using the One Power as a weapon unsavory to him. At least Kiellan didn't seem deadset on becoming a battle machine as the Black Tower had wanted Jaryd to be.

"Excuse me, master Kosari, I don't mean to offend you. But your words seem to suggest you are an Asha'man. Yet, I don't believe I have ever seen you around here. Why is that?" Jaryd blinked, taken off guard. It had not surprised him when few of the learning ranks recognized his face, but most had at least recognized his name once he shared it. Perhaps he simply hasn't reached the part of his curriculum that covers Tower history, he mused.

"I am currently the only Asha'man in the Red Ajah," he said calmly, shifting the book of law beneath his arm. "I took a hiatus from the Tower right after I resigned from my previous position," he continued, carefully glossing over which position that had been. "I had urgent business that I needed to attend to, and that kept me away for about a year. Long enough, it seems, for most of the learning ranks to forget I existed." His eyes crinkled in self-deprecating humor. "Now that I am back, I hope to rectify that. The Master of Soldiers mentioned you were also of the Rahad a few days ago, but I had not had a moment to seek you out. As it happens, chance favored us both!" He grinned as he indicated the book Kiellan carried, remembering their collision only a few minutes before.

"The Red Ajah quarters are quite a distance from here, but if I am in the Tower, you are welcome to seek me out," he said, "whether to talk of my Ajah, or law and history, or channeling, or just to share memories of the place we both called home."

---

OOC: I'm sorry for the lame post. I don't want to leave you hanging when life goes nuts. If you want to get a six post thread out of this, I can respond to your next post on Monday, and then you can take your time with your final post.

The Asha'man seemed surprised that Kiellan hadn't recognized him. Puzzled, he searched his mind for the name Kosari. He was certain that he had heard the name before, but he had assumed that that was because they had both come from the Rahad. He hadn't been taught a lot about the history of the Grey Tower, just enough to know that it was much younger than the White. He knew the names of the current M'hael and Amyrlin Seat, of course, as well as the Keepers and the Master of Soldiers and Mistress of Novices, but even that had taken him some time. As much as he loved the learning and education, remembering names had never been a strong point.

"I apologize, Asha'man," he said, forcing himself to take on a more respectful tone. More than a few visits to the Master of Soldiers' office had taught him that nothing but the utmost respect satisfied the Asha'man and Aes Sedai, and even the Accepted and Dedicated. While politeness came easy to him as an Altaran, respect was a different matter altogether. He was used to only showing it to those who had proven themselves worthy of his respect. After his first few months in this place, however, he had noticed how good he had become at faking it. And as informal as this conversation had been this far, he was still careful.

He smiled at the man's kind words, but another thing Jaryd had said had peeked his interest. He hadn't been in the Grey Tower long enough to really start considering what Ajah he would join, he hadn't even been raised, but, he suspected like all Novices and Soldiers, he had been thinking about it. Some of them spoke to him more than others, and while he didn't think it would be for him, the Red had made him curious. "Again begging your pardon, Asha'man, but you said you were of the Red Ajah? Could you perhaps tell me a bit more about that? I ask simply out of curiosity. It's rather young, isn't it? Why did you choose that particular Ajah?" Kiellan turned a little red. He had always been forward, but usually not with Asha'man; he had learned to be careful around them. Hopefully the man wouldn't mind. There was just something about him that made Kiellan feel like he was home again.


OOC: Sorry, it took me a while as well I'll finish the thread up after your next post, but thanks for writing with me!

Jaryd hid a smile as he watched confusion and then sudden recognition flit across Kiellan’s face, ending in the much taller man apologizing in the most muted tone the Red had yet to hear. The soldier’s energy didn’t stay away long, however; a moment later, he was peppering Jaryd with questions about the Red Ajah.

Such inquiries required consideration. Jaryd tapped his lips thoughtfully, contemplating the best way to answer. He had not yet had much chance to explain his choice to others whose own decisions might be impacted by his words. What could he say? “Yes, at the Grey Tower the Red Ajah is quite young,” he said finally, buying himself a few more moments to think of how to answer the other question. “Carra Sedai was the first to declare herself Red here.”

The conversation he had had with her in the Library a few days after had been what cemented his choice, though perhaps she had not realized it then. “As for why I joined the Ajah….there are many ways I could answer that question, and I hope that once you are Dedicated you are still interested enough to ask me about it again.” He smiled. “There are facets to my decision that you will not entirely understand until then. For now, however…”

He carefully placed his book on the ground, then straightened and held his hands out with palms facing, though a little separated. “In this hand,” he waved his left, “Is the Light, the Creator, and everything we know as good. “In the other is the Shadow, the Dark One, and everything we know as evil.” He moved his right hand to press against the left very hard so that his fingers were pushed backward at a slant. “The Dark One strives to overcome the Light at every opportunity, to tip the scale in its favor. He and his followers are malicious, malevolent, and sneaky in every imaginable way, and the Light has to fight hard to maintain their footing in their endless war. It does not typically take aggressive action, but rather weaves aids into the Pattern- ta'veren, the Heroes of the Horn, that sort of thing- that help keep the Shadow in check in a natural manner."

He looked down at his hands, and wiggled his left forefinger. “This is the Red Ajah as I see it,” he said, and pushed the finger hard against his right hand, forcing it back so the rest of the left fingers could straighten. “We are one of the Light's weapons, in a way. The Red Ajah at the White Tower was created to keep unstable male channelers from destroying the world as we know it. As you and I know, saidin is no longer tainted, and therefore that version of the Red serves no purpose. However, the world does still need people willing to do what it takes to prevent those who would abuse the power they do have –be it channeling, political, knowledge, or physical- from doing so, in order to maintain the balance between the Light and Shadow. I joined the Red Ajah because I believe nothing can be more important than that on what I can only assume is the eve of Tarmon Gai’don.”

He let his hands drop, a flow of Air returning his book to his arm. “Did that answer your question?” He asked.


OOC: Since we’re going to do adagger training, maybe we can wrap it up, and if you want to learn more about Red we can do an actual Ajah exploration now he’s Dedicated?