The Grey Tower

The day's light seemed pale, with the sun caught behind thickets of grey clouds. The air held a chill, indicating that autumn was coming. As well tended as they were, some of the leaves in the Tower's gardens were already changing into oranges and yellows. The transformation still surprised Ravak, who in all of his years in Shienar, had never seen a tree colour. Everleafs were green all year round; the rest had bare branches, if the frost hadn't split them in half.

He tugged up the collar of his shirt, a dark green in a Kandori cut. A few years ago, the Gaidin wouldn't have cared if what sort of design his shirts were. A few years until the tutelage of Kaia Sedai had changed that. His trousers were a pale brown, and he looked quite unremarkable as he walked out of the Tower. Gone was the telltale Warder's cloak and his sword-breaker. He carried just his longsword and a small purse of coin, tucked behind his belt. Like this, he could go reasonably unrecognised by most of the people in Hama Valon, although anyone from the Tower had a fair shot of knowing him. He wasn't going for subterfuge, but he was looking to avoid the baggage that came with being the Master of Training.

Most of the bookstores were known to Rav, and most of those stores' owners knew the man in return. He spent the first half hour of his time peering amongst the shelves in a cramped attic, at Master Dorwell's 'selective' works. Most were texts on whose content the Brown Ajah would not be appreciative - points of views from some of the Grey Tower's former enemies. Pious titles marked out most of the ones by Whitecloaks. Rav had a couple of them, stashed away in his private study. They were terrible bores, but they did offer some insight into the minds of the men under the Dome of Truth in Amador. Today, nothing was of particular interest, so he left Master Dorwell's shop empty-handed.

The next place he stopped was Morgase's shop. The woman had never offered another name - no 'Mistress' anything for her. Morgase was nothing like her Andoran's namesake, nor did she sound Andoran. At a guess, Rav would have placed her to the north in Ghealdan, but he never thought to argue the point. That'd have just been rude. She did not have a hidden collection of books that he knew of, but he did come away with a work on weaponsmithing. The oddest things attracted Rav's interest, and this book jumped out at him. He slipped the book under his arm, and lightened his coin purse.

Coming back into the autumn air, the Shienaran began to debate his next destination. He started off to the right, roughly in the direction of at least another two bookshops, and a tavern he seldom stopped at, but was fond of nonetheless. It was when he came alongside The Rose and the Thorn that he caught a glimpse of white walking by the end of the street. There was nothing unusual about that, but something about the woman in the dress sparked his interest. He broadened his stride slightly, moving the book from his left arm to his right. The trained Gaidin in him was getting ready for a fight, even if there was nothing to indicate one was coming.

At the end of the road, Rav turned left, after the woman in white. She had vanished, but the next intersection wasn't far away. When he got to it, he found his quarry off to the right, peering into a storefront's window with an eager look. Ravak cursed his luck. With a sigh to himself, he walked over slowly, gearing himself up for... something. Conversations with the woman were always interesting.

"Avyra," he stated when he was a few paces off, his voice calm. She turned, and that was when Rav noticed. Gone was the wild novice who did as she wanted. Eight bands of colour encircled hem and wrists. Light, when did Mirin pull this one off? That went some way to explain why Avyra was in the city.

None of the surprise or curiosity showed on the Gaidin's face, but he did react. With a smile, he bowed slightly. "Congratulations, Accepted. It was about time."

Ravak really didn't know how to take that compliment, so he hid his confusion by working at the muscles in his hands. That gave him something to focus on other than Avyra, who's attention was divided between himself and a women's shoemaker's display. Rav didn't know what to make of the items in the window. He barely noticed women's shoes, hidden under their skirts as they so often were.

"Oh, nothing," he commented, adjusting his attention back to the Accepted. "I was just out looking for books and whatever else struck my fancy, when I saw a white dress. Had to make sure some novice wasn't getting ideas above her station." He grinned, only a touch mockingly. "But last I checked, Accepted have free reign of the city."

His awareness from the other side of the bond muted suddenly. Elia was far too frequently doing that.If you haven't need of me sister, release me. Something shone in Avyra's eyes, and Rav realised he was scowling slightly. He smoothed his face. "If you need to find something, I know the city well. I can't go losing another Accepted, or I won't hear the end of it," he jested.

"Are you showing some human emotion, Ravak Gaidin?"

Rav snorted at that, a grin crossing his face. "Did you think I was born a Gaidin, any more you were born Accepted? It's just a matter of training. I'm no less flesh and blood than you are."

He looked back at the storefront. He wasn't completely ignorant about fashion, but he still didn't quite get the why of fancy shoes. Most of that was because he never had the luxury of going for aesthetics over pragmatics when it came to footwear. The rest was because they were so invisible. Dresses he could get, but shoes?

"The last I checked, you can wear heels if you so desire, so long as they're white." Novice and Accepted dress code was all white. Even ribbons to tie back hair had to be white. If they could show a discipline in their appearance, discipline would follow else where. That was the logic as far as Rav knew.

"Now, if you're wanting a kesiera, I can help with that. Assuming the shop's still there." Once upon a time, Ravak had considered buying a kesiera for someone who was important at that stage in his life. He still wore Drin'far'ji greys at that point. What is it, six, seven years? Not a long time, when you thought about it, yet his days in grey seemed like another lifetime. "What were you thinking? A ruby? Moonstone? Sapphire?"

"Is it allowed? It's not white..." Well, that was a question. He couldn't think of any novice or Accepted that wore a kesiera off the top of his head. Maybe it wasn't allowed. Mirin was Cairhienin, and she forewent wearing one. Did it count as a personal effect or as jewellery? Rav had Arafellen Drin with bells in their hair; he wouldn't have tolerated anyone else attempting to pull that stunt.

"I don't see why not," Rav replied carefully. He would have erred on the side of 'personal effect'. The thought of Fiona with a kesiera brought another grin. That would never happen in this Age - if for no other reason than she was an Andoran noblewoman - but if she did ever ask he wouldn't argue. "But then, I am not Mirin Sedai." Mirin could probably be persuaded, especially with the way Avyra twisted the pattern. Ravak was convinced that Avyra Moeryr was ta'varen. Little else explained away the pattern of escapades and near-escapes that surrounded her. What were the chances of her literally falling into his arms when she dropped out from a tree? Even if he had been looking up at the time, it was still bloody lucky. Then there was everything else on top of that.

The way the Cairhienin smiled up at Rav caught him a little off-guard. She had her eyes wide open, so that he could judge what colour of stone she should wear. Even if the age difference between them wasn't that big, she reminded him of... well like a daughter looking up at her father. It was mostly the height thing - it definitely wasn't that Rav had a daughter, or any children. And she seemed to wait patiently for his word. It could have been endearing, maybe, but it was dangerous to think of Avyra that way. Not Avyra specifically, just...

He broke away from his inspection of her eyes. "I'm not sure," he said, a bit of a gruff grumble entering to his voice. "Maybe you'd do better inspecting yourself in a mirror and making the call for yourself. It is your money after all." He moved a couple of steps, ready to lead the way if she was so inclined.

"That can't be true." He knew, as soon as he had uttered those words, that it was the wrong thing to say. Denying the truth just made people feel worse. "Sorry, what I meant is I don't just tolerate you." There was something about the novice that got under your skin, and not in a bad way. It was just her ta'varen twisting of fate, he supposed, but whether that was the cause, Rav was glad to have someone to talk to. "You have at least one friend in the Tower." He stopped himself from ruffling her hair - where had that idea sprouted from? - which was all to the better.

He realised just a moment later that his feelings towards Avyra was down to their last, real conversation. It may have been one of the best rallying speeches he had managed whilst Master of Training. And not that he would take any of the credit publicly, but he felt pride at having helped Avyra get to Accepted. She was practically willing to throw in the towel when they met in the Library.

"But enough about me," Avyra concluded. "How have you been? I hope things are going better for you."

"Yes," he said with a nod. "I'm back in my office, which I'm very grateful to have. And... actually, that's sort of it." There was a note of sadness at that last, as Rav realised there wasn't actually much going on in his life. There was his work, and there was this thing between himself and Elia, and that was really it. He'd put a lot of the social aspects of life on hold whilst in training, but since his return to the Tower, it had been warfare or teaching or tending to Elia. When was the last time I even had tea with someone? He mostly lived in his offices, or trained in the Yards. When was I last in the Gardens? The trees would be colouring. Why hadn't he gone to look?

Rav rubbed the back of his neck with a calloused hand. "Evidently, I need to find something else to fill my time. Maybe I should get a keseira and find myself a new bondmate." His laugh was hollow.