A Rare Visit (Attn: Roan)

[Jack]

Jerid Walker Asha'man Heads turned and Gaidin and Gaidar stopped briefly as they saw the Asha'man walk down the corridors of the Warder Hall. He paid them no heed beyond a courteous nod of respect as he moved toward his intended goal.

Rare was it these days to see the First Seeker in the Warder Yards. In days long past, he was a staple, a regular site who paid visit to the Masters of Arms and Gaidar Captains, or even just watching from the catwalks above as trainees drilled and Gaidin and Gaidar led.

Since his return, Jerid Walker spent less time in the Yards, perhaps even less than among his own Ajah or others for that matter. Recent events, including the loss of his daughter Bryn, only drove him further afield.

If it was any one decision, it was that he had relegated the Yards as something left best to his wife and Warder Lysira Walker Gaidar. If something of utmost importance arose, he would trust in her judgment to inform or advise him, beyond what his eyes and ears would deliver.

Today was different. The First Seeker walked the halls in formal Asha'man black, the cord of his Ajah over his right shoulder, the sword and Dragon pins attached to his coat lapel. A long knife was at his side, a weapon nearly as deadly as the jade ring angreal he wore on the hand opposite the simple wedding band. In one arm he carried a bundle wrapped in simple silk.

His gold-flecked forest green eyes studied the area about him, noting the Warders who deferred to his path. For some reason they knew where he headed, as if they had foresight he already possessed. Jerid never dismissed the Yards of breeding observant people — aside from a few exceptions — and in this case they were right in his destination.

Up the stairs he walked toward the offices held by the general of the Yards. Jerid had known a few people who occupied those suites. He had been bonded to one once, long ago. Corsedai Tiamicova was a fearsome woman who wasn't afraid to take advantage of Altaran customs with the knife.

Granted, his relationship with this current Mistress of Arms was less … intense and nowhere near as close as Corsedai's, but he accorded her the same great deal of respect. Some of it had to do with her lineage and relationship to the current Amyrlin Seat, some due to her training under Lord Caden Ives, a past Master of Arms, and some due to her choice of a bondmate, one of the finest Healers in the Tower. Most of his respect was due to the simple fact that she was more than capable of leading these Yards, and the respect and friendship his wife showed her.

When he reached his destination, he knocked on the door. When an aide answered, Jerid said simply, “Please inform the Mistress of Arms that Jerid Walker Asha'man would seek a meeting with her.”

[Roan]

Riahana Ferria

“Mistress, while I respect your authority with regards to the Yards, I must object and protest. I will gladly tell you what others will not. . .your leniency will get you, and the rest of those in the Yards in trouble. First you allow that so-called Gaidin to retain his Fancloak after using such force as to kill a man he was trying to subdue, then you force the Master of Training to take in a known and convicted criminal as one of the Drin’far’ji, and that very same Master of Training abandoned his post for nigh on a year, only to get his wrist slapped?!” the man standing in front of her desk finished his diatribe by placing his hands on her desk and leaning towards her.

Riahana sat at her desk, hands clasped before her on its clean surface, as she listened to the man while he listed her apparent failures as Mistress of Arms. The man in question wore the garb of an Asha’man, with a green cord of his Ajah over his right shoulder. He was not unknown to Ria, as she’d met him when she was but a Drin’ while visiting her Memma, and the then Master of Arms for dinner. At the time, the Asha’man was the Warder-Channeler Representative. It gave Ria some perspective as to why he was lecturing her now.

Riahana listened intently, and waited until the man finished before addressing his concerns. She was careful not to give any hint of her emotions away in either tone or expression. “Asha’man Do’ani, I appreciate that you are familiar with the Warder Yards and what goes into running them. . .”

He cut her off, “I more than understand, Child, I know! I know what makes the Yards tick! Your great grandfather-in-law is likely turning in his grave with how you are handling things. You make a mockery of the Yards! If we lose a channeler, I assure you, the responsibility will lie at your feet!”

Ria arched a brow and tilted her head ever so slightly, “Are you finished, Asha’man Do’ani?”

The man scowled at Ria, but grudgingly nodded. The Gaidar let go a steadying breath, the only hint that she was exacerbated by the current situation, “As I was saying, I appreciate you are . . .intimately familiar with the Yards, but I do believe you have overstepped your bounds. Do you think the current Captain General would take kindly to me if I were to berate the Ajah head of mis-handling affairs I only know about through rumor and hearsay? I think not.

“You do not know the context of any situation, nor do you know the parties in question. If I though for one instant that any of the three you mentioned were not worthy of a second chance, then one would not have been put before them. It is up to each of them to make the most of the opportunity given them. If you have something constructive to contribute to the Yards, I would hear it, but otherwise, I would bid you good day,” Ria said with finality.

The Asha’man was about to protest when there was a knock at the door. Ria’s eyes didn’t leave him, though he looked over his shoulder as a Ji’ answered and spoke to someone on the other side softly. He looked back to her, “I am not finished, child!”

The aide approached her desk, “Mistress, Jerid Walker Asha’man is here to see you.”

Ria offered her aide a small smile, “Please see our Green Brother out, Ji’alantin, and see the First Seeker in.”

Asha’man Do’ani growled, “I said I was not finished!”

With a tired sigh, Ria locked her icy gaze on him, “You may not be finished, but our business is. If you wish to file a formal complaint to the M’hael and Amyrlin Seat, then please by all means, but I have other business to attend to.”

The glare the Green Asha’man gave her could have started a fire, but he gave one more growl as he turned on his heel and exited her office, not even sparing a glance at Jerid as he departed.

For her part, Ria looked to the entrance to her office as Jerid stepped in, “Asha’man and First Seeker. . .what brings you to the Yards?”

[Jack]

Jerid calmly stepped aside as a fuming Green Asha’man stomped out of the room as if he had been shot from an Illuminator's firework. From the way things looked, whatever argument he had had with the Mistress of Arms, he had surely been on the losing side.

His eyes landed on the Green for a moment, recalling the Asha’man as one named Do’nai, and a man who held a place in the Yards. If Jerid was correct, that was no longer the case.

“Asha’man Do’nai,” the First Seeker said by way of a one-sided greeting before he stepped into the office at the behest of the Ji’dar.

He nodded politely and closed the door behind as he was greeted by the Mistress of Arms. His gold-green eyes could see fading signs of ... was it exasperation? In days past, that would not have been a welcome sight on a Warder officer.

Jerid nodded his head in respectful greeting. “Mistress Riahana Gaidar, I actually came to visit you, before I steal my wife away for a meal if her duties permit it,” the First Seeker said. Eyeing the door, he added with a faint smile, “It seems, though, I might have come in time to bid farewell to someone was not quite so ... amenable to leaving, yes?”

His eyes scanned the room briefly as if admiring the decor before they landed on the Gaidar fully. The gold-green gaze summer the Gaidar up in an instant and for a brief fraction he saw a bit of Lord Caden Ives in her bearing.

“I wanted to extend my thanks for speaking with my son,” he said simply. “I only wish he would take the whole advice you offered to him, but some of it did sink in given that he’s now bonded.”

He wasn’t sure how much Riahana knew of her great-grandmother’s visit to Saldaea, and Jerid had chosen to ... omit the entire thing to the Hall out of respect to Miahala. If the Amyrlin Seat wished to speak about it with anyone in the Hall of Sitters, then that was her business, not anyone else’s. The last Sitter that tried prying information from the First Seeker found himself escorted out after exactly half an hour of silence.

“There are some traits that could stand to be excised from him, but I’ll leave that to his Aes Sedai and the Yards,” Jerid said. The Asha’man didn’t sound disappointed over his son’s past attitude, but it was obvious in the words themselves.

He hefted the slender bundle he carried, placing it on Riahana’s desk. “He did let go of one thing he’s been holding on to, however, and gave it to me to do as I wished.”

Unwrapped, it revealed a broadsword in a leather scabbard with a fine hilt and a sapphire pommel gripped in falcon’s talons. Unsheathed, it was some of the finest forged steel. And a heron engraved into the steel.

“The sword of the Ashe family of Tar Valon,” he said simply. “The last man to wield it was Caleb Ashe, the man who raised my twin sons Sojin and Solin, and he was a captain of Tar Valon’s Tower Guard and later weapons master to House Majere, my sons’ mother’s family. He was the last blademaster to wield it apparently.”

He tilted his head. “I give it in trust to the Warder Yards because the Ashe line is no more, and I will not send it back to Tar Valon,” he said. “Find it a worthy new home.”

Jerid weighed Riahana’s expression as he finished. A moment passed before he asked, “How is your Ward and husband Gareth Asha’man? And your daughter? She is Accepted now isn’t she, if I understand correctly.”

[Roan]

Riahana Ferria

Riahana listened as Jerid spoke of Sojin. She’d heard that her Memma and the Gaidin had bonded, and despite the conversation she’d had with Sojin, Ria wasn’t entirely sure what she thought of the bonding. The Gaidar was protective of her kin, even if one of said kin happened to be one of the oldest, and most powerful Aes Sedai in the Tower. Sojin was a capable warrior, of that there was no doubt, but he was also (in Ria’s humble opinion) a stubborn arse of a man.

Had the Mistress of Arms actually gotten through to him? Given Sojin’s demeanor? Not bloody likely. Perhaps these were the traits Jerid referred to when he said it was up to Miahala and the Yards to excise them. Oh if it were so simple. . .

The Gaidar’s attention went to the bundle as Jerid revealed the heron engraved broadsword. It was a beautiful piece of weaponry, and she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship. Tearing her steely gaze from the sword, Ria looked to Jerid, “To deliver a Heron sword to the Warder Yards in trust is not something done lightly, Asha’man.”

Ria waved a hand along the length of the sword, “The blade is a masterpiece in and of itself. We can, of course, give it a home, as you say, though currently there are few who would have the skills fitting such a weapon. I will see that it is given a place of honor until such time as we have someone worthy to wield it...someone worthy to follow Blademaster Ashe.”

Jerid Walker was not known for idle chatter, thus the questions regarding Gareth and Tia were a bit surprising to the Warder. The familiar bundle in the back of her mind that was Gareth seemed to hum to Ria, and hadn’t stopped humming since their impromptu evening out the night before last. Letting her neutral facade fade, Ria rewarded the First Seeker a warm smile, “Gareth is well, and perhaps spends as much time in the Infirmary as I seem to spend in the Yards, though we seem to be thriving despite our schedules.

“As for Tia. . .she is indeed Accepted now, and from what I’ve heard, she has quite the knack for Cloud Dancing. I believe she has it in her mind to follow in her Great Memma’s footsteps and join the ranks of the Green when she attains the Shawl, though I suspect the very first thing she will do is trade in the dresses for trousers,” Ria couldn’t help the pride she felt as a mother. “Even after all these years in the learning ranks, she still complain about the dress,” she added with a soft laugh.

Tilting her head ever so slightly, Ria regarded the man standing before her. She knew his wife much more than she knew him, and counted Lysira as one of her most trusted friends. Ria hadn’t gotten many chances to speak with Jerid, so knew very little of him. She pushed herself up from the desk and motioned towards her private study off of her ‘official’ office. “Care to join me next door for a drink?” She didn’t need to be so formal all the time, right?

[Jack]

Jerid cocked his head briefly as Riahana described the immense value the blade held, as well as the importance of gifting to the Yards rather than an individual.

His gold-green eyes flashed with that understanding. In his long life, he'd met many people in life who'd borne the mark, among them Caden Ives, and his wife Lysira, who was perhaps the best archer in the Yards. The heron mark was not to be taken lightly or adopted until properly acknowledged.

Jerid's questions regarding the Mistress of Arms's family were another matter entirely. He didn't normally socialize outside a small group. And that group continued to shrink day by day.

No, the questions he asked Riahana were to ascertain the well-being those close to the people he cared for deeply. Riahana's daughter was Miahala's great-great-granddaughter and would hope to see her do well. Gareth, by extension, had Healed him on more than one occasion and was perhaps the most skilled of Aden Cole Asha'man's aides.

Jerid saw it as a duty to make sure that those who were connected to his life in some way were … well and happy.

He'd made it a practice when he left the Tower a decade ago for the Caralain with Liana en'Damier's family and left them with gifts each attuned to their own particular interests and skills.

The First Seeker almost smiled at the mention of Tia's discomfort with the Accepted gown. Almost. His own daughter, Bryn Walker, had a very similar experience with the Novice gown.

“Aye, my own daughter had similar feelings about the Novice gown, mostly about how ill-fitting it was,” he said simply. But then Bryn was gone now, killed by a group of Black Ajah who did not live very long to re-think their mistake. Lysira and Jerid had seen to that.

He cocked his head again when Riahana invited him to share a drink. Part of him knew the information he desired was already garnered by this brief conversation with the Gaidar. He could leave without entangling himself too much in their lives.

Besides, people in most circles steered clear of the First Seeker outside of official business. The stories that swirled around him built up a reputation that became nightmare stories Seanchan told to their children and made some question whether he was a soldier of the Light or an agent of the Shadow.

Sometimes that was perhaps the best solution, to keep people in the dark.

But what is the fun of living if you can't socialize just a little, a thought echoed from the depths.

He politely inclined his head in acceptance. “I would like that, Gaidar, and will accept your gracious invitation,” he said simply, following her lead.

[Roan]

Riahana Ferria

Riahana’s private study was her inner sanctum, in a way. She could escape there if too many petitioners tried to interfere with the work she had to get done on a regular basis. Truth be told, it wasn’t often she had petitioners at her door. Most would go to the Tower to call on the Amyrlin Seat or M’hael over the Mistress of Arms, and Ria was not complaining.

The study did offer Ria a place to step away and gain perspective, if she needed it. She was known for having a cool head even during the height of battle. Sometimes, towards the end of her day, she’d retire to the study for a drink while she finished the last of her paperwork. Today, she had no paperwork, but she did have an unexpected visitor.

In the study, there was a weapon rack over the fireplace. Ria drew the sword from its scabbard and placed it on the rack, while resting the scabbard just below it on the mantle. She looked over her shoulder to the First Seeker, “Perhaps until someone worthy of the Heron comes along, the sword can rest there.”

Ria moved to the desk in the corner of the study, and opened one of the bottom drawers, where she pulled out two small glasses, and a bottle. Above the desk was a weapons rack similar to the one that sat over the fireplace. It held a Heron sword as well. . .the sword that belonged to the leader of the small group of Children who intended on killing her and her small group. She hadn’t realized he was a blademaster when she killed him. It wasn’t until the Tristan saw the blade that anyone realized the Mistress of Arms had defeated a Blademaster, thus earning the right to bare the mark and title herself.

Motioning to the two seats by the fireplace, Ria handed one of the glasses to Jarid, “I was sorry to hear about your daughter, First Seeker. I. . .there are no words adequate enough to offer comfort that would not sound trite.” She took the seat to the left of the fireplace and sat down, “I would rather spare you dribble and perhaps speak of more pleasant things. . .more pleasant times.”

[Jack]

Jerid took the time to examine the study's décor, a task that took but a glance. It was very much like his own study in his own apartments, much different from that he kept as First Seeker.

He nodded admirably at the way it was laid out. “Reminds me of my study, when I was Master of Soldiers,” he murmured.

There was a time Jerid both remembered fondly and was thankful to be removed from. He might be best remembered as the Master of Soldiers who took an active interest and handed down creative punishments. A Dedicated Deek was ordered to wear a dress for a bit to ensure his punishment fit the crime.

He didn't miss the time it took away, or the threats he was forced to put his Soldiers and Dedicated into at the time. Because of him, and because of the White Tower kidnapping channelers and an Amyrlin Seat once upon a time, Jerid had ordered one of his own Dedicated, initially trained at the Black Tower, to prep those very Soldiers and Dedicated with knowledge best left unknown.

Because of him, there was a small cadre of men risen to the cord who were … forever altered by those lessons. He thanked the Light very few strayed from their respective roles in loyalty to the Grey Tower.

Jerid turned his eyes to Riahana, when she mentioned Bryn's death.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement and murmured, “Pray that your children outlive you, Gaidar, and that your husband see them live to a healthy old age, or in your daughter's case, that she outlive him.”

A channeler's life was as much a gift as it was a curse. At 150 years old, Jerid still appeared as if he were in his mid-thirties. He didn't know how long he would live. He'd met Aiel Wise Ones who were so much older than either he or Miahala, older than Amora en'Damier. Older in years, yes, but showed no signs of stopping.

Because of that, he would see Sojin pass, and Cade, and the children of his daughter Angel, those who still yet lived. Even Lysira eventually would pass before him, all through the ages until Death finally claimed one its favorite sons.

He took the glass Riahana offered him and murmured, “Perhaps for now, we can drop the formalities, and chat as fellow soldiers might. Please call me Jerid, Gaidar, even if you must follow on with the honorific of Asha'man.”

Jerid took a seat, his gold-flecked green eyes dancing. Jerid was unlike most other Asha'man, inside or out of his Ajah, in that he wasn't tied to rank. Yes, he would discipline the lower ranks accordingly by sending them to their respective heads, but he also offered some leeway. And the Aes Sedai and Asha'man who did trust him knew better than to think the position mattered above all else.

No matter what role or office he assumed, he made it bend to his wishes, instead of letting it consume him and defined who he was.

So he preferred the simple company of soldiers talking to one another.

“You and Gareth must be proud of your children, enough to bring back here,” Jerid murmured. “Tell me about them. I understand that my son and yours are forging shared fondness over books.”

Cade lived and breathed the Library, and books in general. It was only fitting he would find a kindred spirit in a person who shared the same passion.

[Roan]

That Asha’man and Aes Sedai lived much longer lives than their Warders was never lost on Riahana. There were days when part of her wished it was not so, but she knew she would return to the Pattern long before Gareth. There were times she found herself wondering what went through his mind, as surely it was something he’d thought of too, though they’d never really discussed it together.

The pair preferred less morose subjects, as did most people. Ria shook herself from these random thoughts as she realized Jerid had asked her to tell him about her children. A mother’s pride welled up within her as she took a slow sip of her drink. “Einion has always been fond of books,” she answered. “When we were in Duron, we had a standing request for merchants and Tinkers as they came through. . .bring as many books as they could store. It never seemed to matter how many they brought, he always finished them long before they came back through.”

Ria laughed softly at the memory, and the others that followed, “When we first arrived at the Tower, Gareth and I thought we’d lose him to the library. Some days, it seems we do, but I am glad he’s found a friend in Cade. Einion misses his sister. Despite their very different interests, they spent a lot of time together until Tia joined the learning ranks.

“She has more time for him now that she’s Accepted, but not as much as I think either of them would like. Cade has provided Einion another outlet, and their shared interest helps, though I would not be surprised if the Browsn who run the library put both of them to work if they are nto careful,” Ria said the last with a smirk.

After another sip, the proud mother spoke of her daughter, “Tia seems to be doing well. What I’ve been told is she is on her way to being a powerful cloud dancer. . .she might not have the strength her Great Memma has, but she will be a force to be reckoned with. She’s made no secret that she aspires to the Green. I suspect that is as much because of her Great Memma as anything.”

Looking to the crystal glass Ria wondered what Tia would be like once she was raised to the Shawl. She was such a gentle spirit in many ways. . .seeing her as a Green was sometimes difficult, but then as Tia’s Mother, Ria wanted to protect her from such things. As a Sha’hal, Tia would do as she pleased, stubborn as her mother and Great Memma, alike. Casting a glance back to Jerid, Ria asked, “And tell me of Cade? I haven’t had a chance to visit with Lysira in some time, so I haven’t heard how he’s fared upon returning to the Tower.”

[Jack]

Jerid tilted his head briefly as he listened to Riahana recount the stories of her children. There had been a time when the Indigo knew of every child in the Tower, and who was descended from whom.

But then times changed. It seemed with a sweep of an invisible hand, the tables turned. There was a Red Ajah in the Tower now, something he only just grew accustomed to privately and publicly. No en'Damiers ruled in any seat in the Tower now, and friends and familiar faces were all but gone, with perhaps the exception of Miahala and Lysira, and even Gareth and Riahana, and his son Sojin.

This Tower belonged to a younger generation, perhaps for the better.

The Indigo smiled as Riahana recounted Einion's love for books and the apparent joy the lad took in reading books. It showed great potential, and he was reminded that a sharp mind needed books like a blade needed a whetstone. Intelligence was a gift, but it needed to be honed or it would be wasted, or worse, like a great swordsman who took to years of sedentary lifestyle, those muscles might succumb to atrophy.

His smiled turned bittersweet of course when Ria mentioned the close connection Einion shared with her sister. They were twins, much like his first two children. It was only natural to share such a connectivity. Even Sojin and his twin brother Solin, while not so close anymore, perhaps shared a similar connection.

But it also made his heart sing to hear that Cade provided Einion with some companionship.

Of Tia, Jerid tilted his head. It often surprised him how many with the Talent for Cloud Dancing chose to take the Green. He knew of a few who didn't, including one Blue who became in his mind the embodiment of a singular form of justice.

“It's good that Tia might find an Ajah she fits in with,” Jerid mused briefly, sipping his drink. His gold-green eyes danced briefly, a “but” on his lips. “She would also be wise to explore the other Ajahs as well, because the life of a Green can be a lonely one sometimes, and not so glamorized as one might think. I'd encourage her to look at the Blue Ajah at the very least, but it's her decision and not my place.”

If there was a certain air of authority on the subject, Jerid knew it well. If paths went differently, Jerid would have selected the Green Ajah instead of the Indigo, given his … history as a channeler and a thief turned soldier.

The question came then of Cade, and Jerid sipped his drink carefully, pondering the answer he would give. Honesty, in the end, was the best trait.

“Cade fares well,” Jerid murmured. “Though in truth, I am only just reconnecting with my son after twenty-three years apart.”

It was no secret — at least for those who were present then — that Jerid and Lysria's marriage had been rocky in the end. He had a second love in a White Aes Sedai, who had died by an unknown member of the Black Ajah, and then the Portal Stone that merged one conscious with another and nearly snapped his mind … and snapped the bond he shared with Lysira.

And then she left and he was fool enough not to pursue. With one exception, he did not bond another Warder for nearly twelve years before he bonded Serina Calin, someone who was stubbornly attached to him and drove home the need for a Warder. She died five years ago when they were hunting down Dreadlords.

Then came a blessing he didn't think possible, something that rekindled his faith in the Creator and the Pattern. Lysira and Cade re-entered his life. But in all the time in between Jerid had missed out on watching his son grow into the man he was today.

“He loves the Library, loves philosophy, and I do think if he were ever tested and showed the ability to channel, he would be torn between the White and the Brown,” Jerid murmured. “But he also takes the death of his sister with some hardness, despite not knowing her for very long.”

He smiled briefly and murmured, “I do think his connection with Einion might help, but both Lysira and I watch him more closely than ever before. After Bryn's death, and apparently the Black Ajah's interest in Cade, we thought it best to place a guard on him at all times. Sojin did that for the longest time, but he is bonded, and now that task is performed by Sebrina Calin Gaidar when she is free.”

Jerid sipped his drink and added, “Lysira and I had discussed that we should encourage Cade to explore areas outside the Library, perhaps even a trip to Walker Manor. My grandson, the High Seat, wed into a Seanchan noble family, and now there is thriving colony there, more open than their kin to the south. That family released all damane they had enslaved. I would like for my son to at least experience a side of the Seanchan culture that I never had the fortune to know.”

His smile faded and he looked at Riahana with a level, honest expression. “Other than my first two children, I never got to know most of my children. I did not know about Sojin and Solin until years after they were born and by then Caleb Ashe was raising them as his own foster children. I was fool enough to not to pursue Lysira and Cade when they left, and never knew the joys of watching him grow up. Bryn popped into my life like a fiery storm so full of hope and joy.”

Again he smiled, this time bittersweetly. “She and Cade were the encouragement I needed. That day she died, Lysira and I were to meet her in the Gardens, and I would step down as First Seeker to become more involved with my children. They are the best of us, our children.”

Most Asha'man and Aes Sedai sought some sort of higher role, it seemed, or if they attained it, did not wish to give it up. Jerid was a rarity. He served reluctantly in many roles over his life as an Asha'man, and rejoiced when he decided to finally step down. Should the day ever come when the Hall took leave of its senses and tapped him as M'Hael, he would run. That torment was for better men than he.

His gold-green eyes danced as he looked at Riahana and asked, “Are you and Gareth settling back into the Tower? I can imagine life would be quite interesting when you are Mistress of Arms and your husband one of the Tower's most skilled Healers.”

[Roan]

Lysira had initially been a mentor to Riahana when she was but a Drin’ in the yards. It was Lysira that showed Ria the artistry of archery, helping Ria become an expert with the weapon. It was Lysira who helped shape her and show her the path to becoming a Warder. . .though whether the diminutive Gaidar knew how much influence she’d had, Ria couldn’t say.

After gaining the Fancloak, the two women settled into an easy friendship, though their paths took both of them away from the Tower not long after Miahala’s passing. For Ria, those days seemed so long ago. She and Gareth had only just bonded, and the young Warder found she needed a change of scenery that took her and Gareth from the Tower for nearly twenty years.

It had been some time now since they’d returned, and hadn’t taken Ria long at all to fall back into the training habits she had before her departure. Her dedication found her in the Gaidar Captain’s role for a short time before being promoted to Mistress of Arms, following in the footsteps of Caden Ives.

These thoughts and more went through her mind as she considered the Indigo’s question. “We are as settled as we can be, to be honest. We work hard to maintain a balance in our duties to the Tower, our family and each other. Overall, we have had the luxury to find that balance. I admit it is. . .odd being the older generation, if you will. While I can’t hope to boast the years you, or Memma might, compared to most in the Yards, I am ancient. I find I do not always understand our Learning Ranks, or what motivates them.”

The Mistress of Arms took another sip of her drink, then gave a small, soft laugh, “Though, perhaps that is not entirely true. As with all learning ranks, there are those who have their sights set on earning the Heron mark. Despite earning the right to bare it myself, it was not something I had ever set out to do.” A contemplative look came over the woman sat opposite the First Seeker, “I doubt any who’ve said they will one day own a heron marked blade understand what it means to reach such an achievement. For them, it is something to boast about, but to me. . .

“To me, it is the mark of Death. Not of the wielder, usually, but of those they might face. We who are soldiers might forget that we face fellow soldiers on the field of battle. Each side believes they are right, and they are the good in the world, and those they fight are evil. Few foe I have faced would ever tell me they represent all that is wrong and evil in the world. Certainly, the man I beat to gain the Heron on my blade thought he was just and right in his fight.

“I think those in the Yards who have yet to face battle do not fully realize what they are training to do. . .training to become. I’m not sure I realized when I was their age. So many boast of their skill with blade, quarterstaff, unarmed, or what have you, but so many have yet to take a life. So few have faced actual combat. The reality of who we are stands in stark contrast to what our imaginations might lead us to believe.”

She snorted, “Listen to an old woman wax poetic about a path she does not regret. I grow contemplative, I suppose.”