The Grey Tower

[subtitle]A Pale-haired Stranger[/subtitle]
The sun shone down on the Warder Yards and warmed Velvaen’s face. She slowed leaned over the sturdy fence, intrigued. A pair of Drin were sweat-soaked and bruised. They looked to be finishing a bout. Their dance-like movements were alluring in a way she found alienly beautiful, even if she couldn’t help wincing every time the wooden practice swords let out a loud crack as they met each other. How many of her people would never get to see such a performance? It’s for killing, she reminded herself. That’s all. She kept watching anyway.

One of the Drin seemed to gain the upper hand, pressing the other back, then forcing him out of the chalk sparring circle. He groaned, then both of the fledgling swordsmen walked to an onlooker. A Ji’val, by his uniform, and he appeared to be appraising their fight. He had a head of curly reddish-blond hair and a sun-dark face. And, Light, he was tall–taller than anyone she had ever met! Maybe this was one of the fabled Aiel Belfry had told her about back home. He did seem to have a rather impassive face…

I have another class soon, she told herself. I really should get going. But, curiosity overwhelming, Velvaen found herself slipping under the fence to approach the pale-haired stranger.

Terric stood with his arms folded as Telwin Fjord and Ronny Castil bashed at each other with practice swords. While not a swordsman himself, a fight was a fight, and Terric could tell them what they were doing right and wrong. Ronny Castil was proving to be a timid fighter, backpedaling constantly from the other man’s much more aggressive assaults. He was allowing Telwin Fjord to force him back out of the chalk ring. In essence, the Drin had been forced away from his Channeller. That would not do. The young man would have to learn to stand his ground. He thought back to the various confidence and aggression building exercises he had been put through on his way to becoming a Red Shield. All the students could benefit from a little Aiel training. They wouldn’t love him for it in the short term, but it would make them better Gaidin in the end.

The men finished their sparing bout and approached Terric for his assessment. Crossing his arms, he addressed both men, “Remember, your Aes Sedai, your Asha’man. They’re your concern. Not defeating mounds of enemies, not preserving your own life. Your honor is tied to their survival. You must be able to hold your ground no matter what is thrown at you. The two of you have both improved since I first met you, but no matter how much you improve, you will not be ready to become Gaidin, not even Ji’Val, if you don’t make certain changes in your own hearts.” Was he being too hard on the lads? They had been there to dig through the rubble of the Great Serpent. They had worked hard to save Novices and Soldiers. No, they had yet to gaze into the lion’s maw. They had done well in the past, but they still weren’t ready. Could any of his teachers have prepared him for the things he’d seen, though?

As he lectured, he tracked a Novice crossing the yards, with part of his attention. Without turning his head, he lifted his arm and pointed directly at her, “See her, one day she will depend on you in the Dance. If the two of you are too concerned with chasing glory or protecting your own skin, you are leaving her to die to an enemy spear.” Turning a much less stern expression on the newcomer, he gestured her over, “You’re new to the Tower are you not? Maybe it will do these two good to know what they are fighting for. What is it that you expect a Warder?” Terric felt at a little guilty for putting the young woman on the spot, he’d been at the Tower for many months before he’d given any thought towards what being a Gaidin truly meant, let alone the realities of the Bond.

Velvaen stopped her approach when the Ji’val pointed her out. He hadn’t even turned his head–he just seemed to know where to look. Is that the Aiel part of him showing, or the Warder? she thought interestedly. She had seen Gaidin alertness before–they seemed to be perpetually prepared to pull out their weapons and skewer anyone who looked sideways at their bondmate. But she had yet to meet someone whose vigilance was so… casual. What did that pointed finger mean? Then, to her relief, he gestured her over. She reached the trio just as he began speaking.

“You’re new to the Tower are you not? Maybe it will do these two good to know what they are fighting for. What is it that you expect a Warder?”

What did she expect from a Warder? Light–she had been in the Tower for scarcely a month, and she was already getting asked about her future Warder? In truth, Velvaen hadn’t much thought on it. Her attentions were pointedly directed toward training in the Power–when she wasn’t scrubbing floors or raking in the gardens. Did she even want a Warder? She considered his question for a moment, then replied in a tentative tone.

“Well, a Warder has to be strong–strong enough to defend their bondmate. They must also be comfortable with following their ward’s lead, but also know when to offer an opposing perspective,” she said, feeling her way through as she spoke. “The most important thing I would require from my Gaidin, though–” Her voice firmed conclusively. “–would be an unwavering loyalty.”