The Paper Menagerie (Attn: Elia)

[Nick]

The library of the Grey Tower was warm and cozy - a little too warm in Oen's opinion - and the perfect respite for weary residents, be they two hundred years in the shawl or three days in the black. Oen's tenure was the latter, and already one of the Browns had recognized him from the day before. No trick of saidar there; he'd probably made quite the spectacle of himself, staring at the vast collections like a child in a sweet shop. Like a dim-witted child, he had to admit, one that had probably never tasted a candy before. He'd been so overwhelmed in that initial tour of the library that he'd never made it around to actually picking up a book, let alone getting to read or even borrow one. So now the Brown thought him slow. Great first impression, Oen.

Taking only a brief pause in the atrium to orient himself and clear his head - so many books made it swim - Oen made his way to a wall of books penned by Asha'man. The subjects covered many facets of channeling, and Oen grabbed three that caught his eye. He flipped open the first, Threading the Five, and tried a paragraph.

You must have considerable strength in Spirit to Shield a man who is already holding saidin. It is recommended to practice Shielding regularly, especially weaving from rest, as discussed. In order to remain undetected as long as possible, you must not seize saidin until the moment you are ready to set your Shield in place. Your target may have objects of the Power or wards that will warn him of your approach or even if you are simply holding saidin. As with most battles, the element of surprise can mean the difference between success and defeat.

Oen was lost, but completely enthralled. Shielding? Spirit? Wards? Oen kept the book open as he hurriedly looked for an empty table. Only, there were none to be seen. Each seemed to have at least one person settled in for the hour, and most had more. Three tables had been pulled together to accommodate one Brown who seemed to be taking an inventory of some sort. She sat at the center table, white-gloved, pulled a book from a massive pile on her left, dusted it with a bit of cloth, scanned a few pages, scribbled a few short notes, and stacked it neatly in one of a handful of piles on her right. She gave it a light pat with her hand, as though it were a well-behaved pet deserving of praise. Oen wondered what she might be writing, but although there was some space of empty table at either end of her work area, he dared not disturb her or her severely ageless face.

Nearby, he noticed one table where a single novice sat with a single book. She was a pretty girl - very pretty in fact - and she seemed to be Oen's best chance at finding a chair for the little time he had left before his next lesson.

Smoothing his uniform, Oen stepped over to stand behind the chair diagonal from the novice. When she looked up he smiled politely, his angular cheeks slightly flushed in the warm library. He nodded his head a bit, but winced when one of the bells in his braids made a quiet chime. Fortunately no one seemed to pay it any mind. In a hushed voice, he said, "Good morning, Novice. Would you mind if I sat here?" He chose those words rather than asking if he could join her, so as not to presume. She was obviously studying something of her own, but maybe she wouldn't mind if he studied at the same table, separately.

[Craig]

Elia

Gentle fingers fretted at red hair, hurriedly undoing the careful work that had been an intricately woven braid not an hour past. Elia Darrow sat leaning over the table, attempting to pick her way through Studies and Essays on Objects of Power by Corianin Sedai. Apparently this Corianin Sedai had been a Dreamer, and had done some extensive studies on both Tel'aran'rhiod and various ter'angreal related to the World of Dreams. Elia's interest was driven by her roommate Sinead's dreams, and all of the fallout that had caused. Foolish boy. That thought was for her brother, the lumbering oaf that had got himself into a fight with a fellow Gaidin, and yet had somehow become the latest Master of Training.

The elder Shienaran worked carefully on some notes, transcribing portions of the original text relevant to another one of her interests, ter'angreal. In truth, there was little that Elia didn't consider one of her interests, if it had to do with saidar and the One Power. She had a lot of learning ahead of her - one year in white did not mean much - but there were things she had to reason out. One was her choice of Ajah. That could be years, maybe decades in the future, but it made some sense to explore what each Ajah did. For the Indigo Ajah, that was ter'angreal. Or, that was her understanding of it. She knew more about the other seven Ajahs. Well six, as the Red Ajah of the Grey Tower wasn't the same as the Red Ajah of the White Tower.

Sighing to herself, she pushed the book fractionally forward, and rested her elbows on the table. She was still playing with her hair. Upon realising that, she pushed the half-woven braid over her shoulder, strands of red fluttering down onto the table, or on her skirts or shoulder. She sniffed, but didn't do anything about it. Ravak would not be pleased that she had undone all of his work, especially when she had insisted on it and had travelled all the way to his office for it too. It was worth the effort, even with the strange looks she received. He was better at weaving braids than she was. It was a shame his hair wasn't quite long enough to work with...

She came out of her reverie as a black uniform stepped into view, outfitted by a lanky boy. He bobbed his head to the sounds of ringing, the copper bells standing out against his black hair. It was good to see another Borderlander, as it brought back fond memories of home. He seemed to wince at the noise, which lessened her smile marginally. Arafellin, but embarrassed by the bells? Something to consider later on.

When he spoke, it was in a soft tone in deference to the mediative quiet of the library. "Good morning novice. Would you mind if I sat here?" He had a hand on the back of a chair, set diagonally across from her own. The other hand held three books, far more than he could possibly work through in the remainder of the hour. Her smile broadened again, and she gestured to the seat directly opposite with a "Of course. Join me."

Elia waiting for him to get seated and settled, the books laid out before him, because engaging in any more conversation. She began with an outstretched arm, her sleeve pulling back to expose her wrist as she leaned across the table. "My name is Elia Darrow. It's a pleasure to meet another Borderlander. Arafel, right?" She gestured to his hair with her other hand. "The bells, and the accent." A giddiness had creeped into her voice, but she didn't restrain herself. "We're neighbours; I'm Shienaran if you hadn't already guessed. Don't have the nose for a Saldaean."

She settled back into her chair, pulling Studies and Essays towards her. Slippered feet rubbed against the floor as she thought through her initial appraisal. Friend or companion? The same question she always asked herself when meeting someone new. "So, do you come to the library a lot? Some people prefer their own rooms for studying, but that depends on their roommate. Mine likes to work across the floor. Makes clambering into bed a little tricky when you have to sidestep books and papers." She beamed, openly delighted. Smiling was infectious, and she wanted to see how this Arafellin looked with a grin on his face.

[Nick]

"Of course. Join me."

Oen glanced at the chair indicated, and promptly pulled it back enough for his narrow frame to slide in. He pointed his knees off to the left, ever conscious of his height and their proclivity to knock into things they ought not, such as the Novice's legs. He shook her hand firmly, but not aggressively. When she spoke, she had the friendliest tone, and her tone and familiarity instantly put him at ease. He was taught to sit upright in his chair, but he did lean in ever so to keep their conversation to a respectable level. "It is my honor, Elia Darrow," he said with a smile to meet hers. His own never widened enough to show his teeth, but it did soften the edges of his angular features. "Oen Harida, of Arafel," he nodded to her guess. "I might have thought you Kandori if you hadn't said otherwise." He grinned at that, "Thank you for saving me from that fate." He meant the fate of looking a fool, though the joke might be the fate of sitting with a Kandori - not that he had anything against them. He didn't even know any Kandori; at least not personally. The grin did reveal a row of mostly straight teeth, relatively white, with just one gap near the back on the bottom right row.

"So, do you come to the library a lot? Some people prefer their own rooms for studying, but that depends on their roommate. Mine likes to work across the floor. Makes clambering into bed a little tricky when you have to sidestep books and papers."

"I imagine it does." Her smile was in fact infectious, and Oen's widened comfortably, his pale blue eyes squinting a little with the effort. "I've only been here a few days. My roommate is a bit older, and an Aielman; I haven't gotten to know him too well yet. But, I find the Soldier Halls to be a bit ... distracting." There were just too many bodies going and coming in that building, and Oen had much on his mind.

Though, he realized, he wasn't likely to get much done about that with Elia here. And he was quite willing to accept that - Elia was a nice distraction of her own. "Have you been a Novice long, Elia? Are you enjoying the Grey Tower?" He casually closed his book beneath his hands, eyes on Elia. Her red hair was lovely, even with the haphazard braid. It would be nice to have a fellow borderlander on the books; especially one as lovely as Elia.

[Craig]

Elia

"My roommate is a bit older, and an Aielman," Elia knew exactly what it was like having to live with an Aiel. Well, an Aielwoman. There were a lot of differences between wetlanders and the Aiel. Maybe she didn't know exactly what it was like for Oen after all. "Have you been a novice long, Elia? Are you enjoying the Grey Tower?" He made it clear that he was interested in her, book closing without even looking at it.

"I've been here for a few months." She decided not to share the fact she'd been a novice for a year longer than that, at the White Tower. If he was interested in her, he would have to work for her secrets. "It's better than what I had anticipated. Hard work, of course. But I can understand why the Asha'man and Aes Sedai put us through such hard labour." None of them had earned the shawl or the cord without being instilled with the values of patience and discipline. "Oh, and my brother just so happens to be here as well. You probably haven't seen him, but he's the Master of Training. Probably literally haven't seen him; fancloaks are such a nuisance." She wrinkled her nose, now with a playful grin on her heart-shaped face. "Fortunately we get along." Elbowing the book in front of her aside, she leaned conspiratorially forward. "There are perks to having a Gaidin for a brother, trust me." Winking, she settled back in her chair.

"Oh, if you find the Soldiers' Halls too dull, we should meet up. I'm sure we can find somewhere in the Gardens that's quiet, away from the hubbub of milling novices and soldiers. Less distracting, wouldn't you say?" Now there was nothing but a flirtatious smile, and wide innocent-looking eyes. Her slippered feet stretched out tentatively beneath the table, and found empty air. A little wince of dissatisfaction was on her face for a second, then smoothed out again.

Elia wanted to lean back over towards Oen, to stare into those pale blue eyes and that young angular face, but that would have been too obvious. I'm not a Domani wench. No, she was much too dignified for that. She brushed off some of the hairs on her dress, as if Oen wasn't the only thing she was interested in at present. The silence only lingered for a couple of seconds. "I'm sorry, I have a tendency to talk a little too much. Please, tell me of yourself, Oen." Elbows back on the table, she folded one hand over the other. Placing her chin on them, she watched Oen intently.

[Nick]

"I've been here for a few months."

That made Oen feel a little better about his own standing; it was easy to forget there were others as new as himself, relatively speaking, when other boys were learning to Travel and to Heal and to Align the Matrix - whatever that bloody meant. Maybe Threading the Five would tell him; if he ever got back to it.

"It's better than what I had anticipated. Hard work, of course. But I can understand why the Asha'man and Aes Sedai put us through such hard labour."

Oen nodded, no stranger to hard work or rigorous routines. "I expected as much."

"Oh, and my brother just so happens to be here as well." Oen's head stopped mid-nod. Her brother? Here? Had he been watching them the whole time? Oen was about to take a look around the room when Elia continued. "... he's the Master of Training." Even better.Oen would have to watch himself around this one, and her master brother.

"Probably literally haven't seen him; fancloaks are such a nuisance." Oen snorted, but covered his mouth with one long-fingered hand, glancing about for any Browns storming over to box his ears, but there were none, so Oen went back to studying the girl across the table from him. She was funny, but still potentially dangerous. Oen needed to be allowed to train in the yards; he had no intention of angering the landlord. "There are perks to having a Gaidin for a brother, trust me." She winked, and Oen pursed his lips in a smile - perks like having her pursuers end up missing from roll call one morning?

Oen paused. "That's something." Her talk reminded him, "my brother is here as well." He grinned, "He must have met your brother by now. Daigo Harida - he is Ji'alantin, we arrived together." He felt a rush of relief and thanked the Light he'd not said anything unsavory about the master brother. Of course, he hadn't so much as spoken a single word with Daigo since arriving here, so no chance of hearing any complaints about Elia's brother. Still, he was glad to know how well connected this Novice was.

"I'm sure I'll meet your brother soon as well," Oen said, resting back against his chair, "I plan to take up the sword and unarmed combat." He shoved his sleeves back, up to his elbows, wishing he could open his shirt some. It really was warm, though maybe being in Elia's company had something to do with it.

For a moment, he thought he saw something in her eyes, something dangerous, but then she frowned and leaned forward to stare at him. Light, she was pretty. "I'm sorry, I have a tendency to talk a little too much. Please, tell me of yourself, Oen." She rested her chin on her hands, and he could almost imagine how hem at Bil's tavern back home. If only they could get their hands on some ale, to make complete the effect.

Oen smiled at the thought of asking her to dance, but said instead, "Not much to tell, really. I'm from Kiva, a very small town outside Shol Arbela. It's a logging town; most of my family are woodsmen. I would be as well..." If not for having the spark of the Dark One. "So, where in Shienar do you hail from?"

[Craig]

Elia

Oen had a brother? She wasn't sure what she could do with that nugget of information, but it may come in handy. If Ravak has a hand in Daigo's future... No, she wasn't sure what she could do with it yet. Some opportunity may present itself, though. "I plan to take up the sword and unarmed combat." Now that was interesting. Elia scooted forward a little bit on the padded seat. A channeller and a swordsman. Dedicated may have those little sword pins, but they so seldom had actual blades on their waists. And who wouldn't want to be good at both the Power and with weapons? Well, maybe herself for one, although she wasn't completely helpless without saidar.

"I may come to watch you train." There were always a gaggle of girls and women who went to watch the Gaidin train, and the Drin and Ji of course. She could join them without comment. Some were Aes Sedai looking for a Warder. Most were dreamy-eyed fools imagining themselves as full Sisters. There were also black-clad men too; Ji'dar and Gaidar were unique to the Grey Tower, as were female Warders, so she understood. A couple of years ago - how many years now? - she used to do much the same in Fal Dara. Standing on the edge of the training courts, watching Ravak train with the army. He had been a completely different man, a different soul. Since obtaining the fancloak, he had become distant. More distant, she thought with a wince. As if running away wasn't bad enough, brother.

She abruptly noticed he had asked a question. What else had he said? Peace. "Ah, I'm from Fal Dara." When Oen didn't stop her - she had to guess at his question - she continued. "It's up in the northern parts of Shienar, right by the Blightborder. Not that I've ever seen it." She took her hands away from under her chin, and hugged herself with a slight shudder. "It's a wretched thing. That and Trollocs and Fades. The whole city is lit day and night, for fear of a Fade lurking in shadows. And no-one can go around hooded for the same reason." In all honesty, she missed the brightness of Fal Dara. Not that she was scared of the dark by any means, but the glow of lantern light was reassuring at any hour.

"It's nothing pleasant to speak about. But you would know, Arafellin and all. At least I won't need to convince you that Trollocs are real." That had been a real annoyance with southerners. Trollocs and Fades and even the Forsaken were fairy tales for some of them. It was ridiculous how ignorant they were. It took no effort, but she returned back to a sweet smile and a joyful expression. He had dodged her first advance, maybe intentionally, maybe not. Should I go for a second? She reached over the table, turning the book in front of Oen to see the spine. "Threading the Five," she mused. "I'm guessing you're just learning about the intricacies of the Power now? It's a beautiful thing." Saidar hovered near, like sensing a friend's presence waiting over her shoulder. There was only a touch of regret that she was not allowed to embrace saidar whenever she liked, block or no. It filled her with such a rapturous warmth. Oh, but saidin. Oen would have to wrestle with the Power or some such. She didn't know exactly how it went with men, but it was a completely different experience from what she knew.

[Nick]

Oen was feeling pleased with the way their conversation was progressing. He was feeling accomplished. Back home, speaking with a girl like Elia would have been more difficult for him. She was so composed, so curious ... So pretty! Come to think of it, there weren't a lot of girls back home like Elia. Miniva was sharp as a blade, but not exactly pretty. Enrika was gorgeous, but about as sharp as a wooden spoon - though her splinters could cut pretty deep.

Elia was also not the first Novice Oen had met, nor the first with whom he'd carried a conversation. She was, however, the first that had truly captured his attention. He nodded encouragingly when she's mentioned the borderlands, became concerned when she spoke of Fal Dara, shadows, Fades and hoods. No southerner would ever truly understand the world; not in the same raw, unembellished way he and Elia knew it to be. Well, maybe his Aiel bunkmate saw it in a similar light, though that might be their only similarity.

"It is nice to find a fellow countrym-" he smiled awkwardly, "ah, fellow borderlander." He scratched at his scalp, this time ignoring the quiet jingle of his bells." He was so preoccupied by this girl, that when she reached across the table, his skin instantly pebbled, and he was legitimately surprised to find her soft hand turning over his book. Where had that come from? Threading the what?

Oh, right, channeling. "Ah, yes ..." Oen stalled, "It certainly is ... intricate. And powerful ..." Bloody stumps, what was he even saying? Were those even words falling out of his head? He had to force his eyes off her hand and quickly reached for her own book, to distract himself, and his suddenly uncomfortable seat. Their arms touched briefly, and he smiled as he held her book up to read the title. His lips moved slowly over the words, and his eyes again found hers as he ended on, "Objects of Power? Is that ... Is that like the Aes Sedais' ring? Or the Warders' cloak?" It was a shaky segue to a tamer subject, but anything to avoid the topic of channeling, something he hadn't managed to consciously do yet. He shouldn't be embarrassed, he knew, he had a block, but it did bring to mind the many other things he hadn't managed to do yet either. Hardly a confidence booster with a girl who had been here for months.

[Craig]

Elia

Elia noted with excitement the gentle brush of skin on skin as Oen stretched across to look at her own book. Are you making advances, my dear Arafellin? With the way he was mangling his words, Oen was either falling under Elia’s sway, or he had picked out some books to look studious and didn’t know the first about them. I can think of a few people like that...

Oen lifted the book in front of Elia, mouthed the title, then looked down at her with soft, cloud grey eyes. “Objects of Power?” Elia’s hope that Oen may share some interest in ter’angreal evaporated like mist in the Wastes as he stumbled on.

“No,” was her soft-spoken reply once he finished. “The Great Serpent ring that Aes Sedai and Accepted wear are not made from the Power, nor are the cloaks that Gaidin wear. You should think of it as a fancloak, rather than a Warder’s cloak. Warders can be channellers.” She couldn’t help but correct him, but in a kindly way. “No, these Objects of Power refer to ter’angreal. They are items made using the One Power for precise purposes. I assume you know about the Oath Rod?” She paused briefly for his reply. “Well, the Oath Rod is a ter’angreal. If someone is channelling into the Oath Rod, and then you swear, well, an oath, then that oath is binding. That is the precise purpose of the Oath Rod.” She pointed at the book before her with her index finger. “This book describes other ter’angreal. Mostly to do with Dreaming. I have an interest in ter’angreal, and you probably know the Indigo Ajah is all about ter’angreal? I’m seeing what I can learn before I attempt anything.” Malachite eyes started to blaze fervidly. “Imagine, being able to create a ter’angreal. Wouldn’t that be incredible?”

[Nick]

Oen could feel his face flushing with blood - did they really need such a fire in this room? Elia knew so much more than him about, well, everything, it seemed. He'd heard the word ter'angreal before, and had a vague idea of the mission of the Indigo Ajah, but, Light, he felt like he was learning to read all over again. He quickly abandoned that thought, however, as it was his mother who had been his teacher then, and he would really rather not form any comparisons between his mother and pretty, smart Elia.

He nodded feebly that he'd heard of the Oath Rod. And he had. Ameli Sedai had explained that much to him before he'd set out in earnest for the Grey Tower. She'd not explained the actual mechanics of it, though, only that it was used to give the Aes Sedai their three oaths. Perhaps he'd chosen the wrong books. These ter'angreal sounded fascinating, and Elia's building excitement only further interested him. "That would be incredible," he agreed with a smile, his hand pulling back from her book, but not before giving her hand a soft squeeze, "And I'm sure you're just the one to manage it."

Remembering where they were, Oen retrieved his hand and glanced over at the Brown at the trio of tables nearby. She looked up, and it felt as if she knew every thought in his brain, but especially the more carnal ones... He suddenly felt very thirsty, and a little queasy. He looked back to Elia, and raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever seen a ter'angreal in person? Or used one? I imagine those must be pretty securely kept away from Novices and Soldiers..."

[Craig]

Elia

Well. Elia felt a celebratory surge of exhilaration run through her. The Arafellin was coming undone, and she liked it. There may come a time later when nobles and rulers would bend under her words, but for now she was more than contented with a single black-haired soldier. Her feet once more sought out for Oen's legs, and once more found merely air. She was tempted to pout, entirely for his benefit, when he pulled back his hand, but her eyes followed his towards another nearby table. Caught up with Oen, she had completely put Sarla Sedai out of her mind. Fortunately the Brown was - or seemed - absent-minded, and she was doing that odd thing of treating the books before her like pets. Even if Sarla wasn't Aes Sedai, Elia would have allowed the Ghealdanin her oddities. A pleasant woman.

Elia turned back to Oen, but his eyes remained transfixed on Sarla for a moment longer. When his pale bluey eyes returned to rest on her, he looked uneasy, as if the Brown's presence was unsettling. He swallowed hard before speaking, the lump on his lithe throat jutting out prominently. "Have you even seen a ter'angreal in person? Or used one? I imagine those must be pretty securely kept away from novices and soldiers."

The red-haired novice nodded in agreement. "I think it's rare for any but an Indigo to possess a ter'angreal. Light no, I've never seen a ter'angreal. Apparently they can look like... almost anything." She moved the book on the table, the source of that knowledge. "Although..." and once more her voice was clandestine, "apparently my brother has one. But say nothing!" The last three words were very firmly stated. As tantalising as this conversation may be, and where it could lead, Elia's loyalties to Ravak would already remain, and always come first.

She pulled the frayed braid over her shoulder, fingers fidgeting over it. "So I may get the chance to use one. Or see one. He didn't exactly elaborate on what the ter'angreal is or does." Lips pursed for a second. What sort of ter'angreal would a Gaidin need at any rate? Nothing that required the use of the One Power, that much was a guarantee, or else he wouldn't know it was one. "But still. I would love to see all of the objects they have in the Tower. I wonder what they all might do."

All of this talk of ter'angreal may have been fascinating to Elia, but for Oen... "Do you want to go somewhere else?" She spared a glance in Sarla Sedai's direction. She may have been distracted, but Oen clearly had reservations with the Brown around. And Elia knew of a classroom that no-one ever used. "Or do you want to get to your reading?" She hoped he wouldn't, although she was taking this book with her if she could. There was a lot Elia thought she could learn from Corianin Sedai's book.