Gonna Set Your Stole On Fire

[Neserin Odessa]

111 After the vote in the hall to improve relations between the towers...


Neserin was beyond furious, a white hot rage coursing through the fair haired sister as she stalked down the familiar halls of the white tower. She charged toward the red ajah quarters with a grace that had more in common with a well trained swordsman than a regal lady. Boots thumping against stone announcing her before she drew close. It was a warning the wise heeded moving out of her way quickly. The red sister looked the part of a marching soldier. As usual a sword was strapped to her side, the burgundy dress she wore might as well have been armor. It bore embellishments of leather and steel along the hems and cuffs. Ness certainly felt like she was going into a battle. The desire to hurt something was strong enough.

How could they have allowed this to happen? Those halfwits in the Hall were supposed to guide and protect, instead they had rolled over for that fool woman! Neserin snorted. Kateirne din Ziago...even thinking the name filled her with disgust. That petite menace would doom them all. She should have been brought to heel for even suggesting what she did between the towers! Instead the Hall had apparently had a collective fit and voted to allow this….this travesty! Meetings with the black tower?! Better relations?! It felt like a slap in the face.

Coming into the red quarters like a storm Neserin’s light braids swirled around her like gathering clouds. The large sitting area often held at least a few red sisters no matter the time, today was no different, even if the atmosphere was darker than usual. Even before Neserin had come charging in. She wasnt the only one upset by the days news.

Sharp blue eyes swept the room and Ness pinned a young red sisters with a glare. She normally liked Lilibett. Today however the woman liked nothing. No one. When she saw the younger Aes Sedai it only brought up a dozen other fresh faced women who had bled and died over the black tower. Sisters who had gone missing. Sisters who had fought and died to protect the shinning walls of Tar Valon. Neserin had been present during Lilibetts testing from Novice to Accepted. She’d taught the Andorand woman the weaves of their ajah until they were second nature. Consoled her when the first woman she’d found with the talent had burnt herself out as a foolish Accepted. Would she have to bury Lilibett as she had so many red sisters years ago? The thought made Neserin twist in a deeper scowl, her temper rolling through the room like thunder.

“Where is Mirin?” the question came out as a growled command, the few other sisters in the room did not speak. With the news of the Halls vote spreading through the tower like wildfire there was no doubt at what had sparked her fury. Only what would burn as a result. Figuratively of course. Probably. When no immediate answer came Ness stalked further into the room. Hergaze locked with each woman present before she spoke again “Where is that gutless old coward? Where is that traitor?“

If was perhaps unfair to put so much blame on one old red sitter. From what Neserin had heard no single voice would have tilted the odds in their favor. The Amiryln would have gotten her wish regardless. Still, the red sitter had been silent. She often was when it came to the black tower, to men who could channel, to the tragedy the white tower and the reds in particular had suffered. If Mirin had her way every last red sister would be out turning over rocks in every far flung village to find any and all with a spark-female or not. It galled Neserin. It had for years. She claimed to be moderate. Reasonable. But this...this was not reasonable! Not acceptable! Sisters like Mirin were how that tiny yellow twit had ended up with the stole. Not a green or a red as was obviously proper. Obviously NEEDED at such a point in time.

Turning on her heels Neserin took several steps across the room only to turn again. She was filled with too much energy too much temper to be still. Two of the other aes sedai in the room scattered, either to do her bidding or avoid the gathering storm. Two more sat watching, one nodding agreement even if she didn't speak. There were plenty of reds furious over the vote that had been cast. Particularly those old enough to remember the red death that had swept through the tower like a flood.

“This is unacceptable. Unforgivable. Intolerable. This can not stand!” Inviting those...those asha’men to Tar valon! In one vote the Hall had spit on the memory of dozens of sisters and doomed how many more….

[Alira Asuwan]

Alira Asuwanwas in her study when the Hall called its Sitting to vote on the proposal of hosting the delegation from the Black Tower. A somber, sparsely decorated space, the Highest of the Red Ajah did not spend her waking hours in comfort and excess. The desk was perhaps the most ostentatious, a sturdy and finely carved piece with dark wood and silver inlays playing up the legs and the desktop itself. She sat there now, eyes closed and head back in the hard chair she preferred. Though she appeared peaceful, almost placid, Alira's mind circled the situation with ceaseless, directionless energy. The Sitting would achieve the lesser consensus, though without the support of the Red Ajah. The Green was a bit of an open question, but in any case she was certain that Katreine din Ziago's plaything, Calina Taborwin, had secured the votes required before the Sitting commenced. There was nothing more to be done now. The White Tower would move towards normalization relations with the Black Tower once more.

Some in the Red would react with anger. Implacable rage wouldn't be out of the question either. Alira, by contrast, was calm and still, a lake frozen over for winter...though, like a lake, the surface was treacherous and her waters ran deep and cold. She had worked against this result for decades, determined to never let the White or Black Towers forget their places. The Black Tower, supposedly free from the taint that had one contaminated saidin was still a dire threat to the world, and though the White Tower was not in a position to destroy they had been in a position to contain it, after Rahlin's war. Softer hearts had prevailed, and now softer minds took yet another step to legitimizing the Asha'man. It was foolishness and idiocy, but there was no sense in letting rage overrule sense. This could be turned to her advantage. If Katreine din Ziago wished for closer ties with the Black Tower, so be it. Ties could be used to restrain just as easily.

Alira stood and moved to the door, and as always there was a faint whisper where words, or thoughts, or feelings should be. Their absence was a deafening and constant companion, and Alira paid it no mind. Instead, she strode out into the halls of the Tower. There was nothing Alira could do to change the course of the Tower now, but her Ajah needed tending, lest hotter tempers prevailed...or worse, the more moderate Sisters become willing to accept this turn of events. Neither would be acceptable, not so long as Alira stood as the Highest. The Red would have to walk a fine line, and Alira would see it done.

The halls were buzzing, though the whispered conversations often cut short as Alira passed, whether the participants were servants, Novices, Accepted, or Aes Sedai. To the rest of the Tower, Alira was one Red Sister among many, not even one who'd ever Sat in the Hall for her Ajah. Despite her lack of public standing, her frozen, expressionless features killed conversations as her icy blue eyes passed over the participants. Alira did not have the look associated with intimidation; she was of average height, her light blonde hair was pulled back and up, and her high-necked crimson and gold gown, while impressive, was not the stuff of conquerors or empresses, the small copper and gold dagger at her hip aside. That did not hinder her much.

The sitting room had already boiled over, with two Red Sisters nearly fleeing the room as Alira approached. A woman's voice, loud and angry, was audible through the nearly closed door.

“This is unacceptable. Unforgivable. Intolerable. This can not stand!”

Neserin Odessa. Alira recognized the voice and was not surprised. The woman burned still with anger for the mad M'Hael's war. (Another not-whisper, the faint wispy sense of empty air.) Alira thought it likely that the Kandori Sister, were it up to her, would have torn the Black Tower down brick by brick and left the Asha'man underneath the wreckage. It was a perspective Alira found understandable, if shortsighted. Pain manifested itself in many ways. There had been days, years ago, when Alira had felt like half of a person. Memories of that time were hazy and indistinct--or perhaps that was an accurate recollection of the dark years when the Black Tower had tipped its hand. In any case, that sense of loss had never truly vanished. Instead, it froze over into crystalline clarity, allowing Alira to do what must be done even if it hadn't made her whole.

She entered the room in the aftermath of Neserin's outburst, icy quiet to Neserin's roaring flame. Her face lacked expression, and her words were quiet and conversational.

"Neserin Sedai. Sit with me."

She looked over the Kandori's shoulders at the pair of Reds left in the sitting room, pinning them with her gaze.

"You may leave us."

She waited in silence as the pair rushed to obey, eyes back on Neserin and unwavering. She looked as if she meant to charge into battle at any moment, though that was how the woman always looked. Alira's lips no longer twitched when she saw the sword buckled at Neserin's hip over her dress. Alira needed this woman. Her rage and drive would serve the Red well, as long as Neserin's temper did not get the better of her.

[Neserin Odessa]

Neserin half turned, ready to snarl at the woman foolish enough to tread into her temper. She half hoped it was Mirin. Old cow. She’d give her a drubbing worthy of a novice who had decided she had nothing left to learn. It was not the sitter. Instead a more diminutive woman strode into the room. Although Neserin always thought only a fool would deem Alira less threatening due to her pretty features and small stature. Neserin had seen what she was capable of. Beyond that she the Highest. Among the reds it was a rank nearly equal to the Amirlyn herself. Or higher in some sisters estimation. Especially when the woman who wore the rainbow stole had betrayed them so!

So no, Neserin did not yell at the other woman as she strode into the room. A calm ice in sharp contrast to her own fire. The border born sister didn't apologize for her outburst but she worked to reign in her temper. Meeting Alira’s gaze as the other woman politely dismissed the remaining women in the room. Whatever their feelings on the vote or Neserins temper they did not need to be told twice. Or maybe they were glad for an excuse to flee. Neserin didnt spare them a glance as she stared right back at the Highest. Her feelings on the blacktower were no secret, nor should they be!

Sit. Talk.

For a moment the red sister remained standing, poised with the potential for violence. Not against Alira. Never against a sister. But maybe a piece of furniture that needed smashing. Or a light drubbing for the fools who had allowed this to happen. Something! Some action. She did NOT want to sit. She did not want to be told how this was acceptable. Or that her reaction was not warranted. A fiery temper and stubborn heart had been part of the reason the blonde haired woman had taken so long to achieve the stole. She was strong enough. Only there was too much pride. Too much defiance. Too much fight.

A long moment passed but finally Neserin did take a step toward one of the rooms chairs. Graceful and deadly but the violence that had been all but vibrating from her was sheathed as surely as her sword. She had learned her lessons. Mostly.

“Highest” the word came out sharp, but then even at the best of times there was often something abrupt and commanding in the reds voice. This was not the best of times. Still Neserin tried to ease her clenched fists. She liked Alira in her own way. The other woman was a legend among those in her ajah. Neserin had been a sister long enough to remember when the other red had lost her bond during the war. And when she’d helped rebuild their broken ajah from ashes after. That meant something. Even more than the stories. Yet Neserin was not the simpering sort and respect for the other woman would not mean she’d turn tail. Instead she sat and charged right in.

“That this was even a vote in the hall is a dishonor to every sister who gave her life to fight the black tower” Right to the point. She spat ‘black tower’ with the same disgust someone would say ‘dark friend’. They were not of course. They were a different sort of evil. No less deadly. No less in need of being put down. 

[Alira Asuwan]

Alira waited for Neserin to take the first step. She did not fear the Kandori. Alira feared very little, but she knew the other woman's character. It was not in her to lash out at her sisters...barring certain exceptions. Still, she wanted to press upon the woman that, yes, they would sit and talk, no matter what Nersein's temper demanded. Neserin had learned the lessons of her youth well, and despite her anger she regained control enough to begin toward the chairs. That done, Alira herself moved gracefully and sat, listening as Neserin spoke.

"That this was even a vote in the hall is a dishonor to every sister who gave her life to fight the Black Tower."

The venom in Neserin's words was palpable, and deep within Alira felt a stirring of heat. A faint impression of those that had been lost flickered through her mind, accompanied by a not-whisper. Once, Alira would have flinched; she remembered, that, vaguely. Now, she simply sat and studied the other woman, missing nothing. The silence stretched for a moment that some might have found uncomfortable.

"That this was a vote in the Hall dishonors no one, Neserin Sedai."

Alira's fingers played idly on the hilt of the dagger at her side, shifting her eyes to the door of the sitting room. She embraced saidar and put in place a ward, then returned her gaze to Neserin.

"Our Sisters are misguided. Our Amyrlin is unwise. But they honor our losses all the same, and think that this is a path to undoing some of the damage that war inflicted. They are wrong, of course."

She did not speak with heat, or anger, or loss, only cold certainty. Alira, as always, was certain.

"I understand your anger. That the depth of their mistake is not obvious is...unfortunate. The Black Tower remains as dangerous as it has ever been, as does saidin. Despite this mistake, the male half of the Source cannot go unchecked. I have no intention of allowing the White Tower to repeat its mistakes with the Asha'man."

She paused, considering her next words carefully.

"Within the next six months, Mirin Sedai will no longer be a Sitter for the Red Ajah. The Red, more than ever, will need to blaze a trail for the rest of the Tower, and I expect that you will do much to ensure that."

[Neserin Odessa]

That this was a vote in the hall dishonors no one…

Neserin tensed, poised to snarl something unflattering about that traitorous hall again. She wanted to MOVE. To shout! To storm and rage. As it was the red would likely end her day in the training yard, taking her fury out on training dummies or any cocky young trainees foolish enough to attempt a chat. The warders knew better than to engage when she was in such a vile temper. Alira’s words weren't doing anything to soothe. If anything they felt mocking. Yet Neserin kept her temper in check.

A few moments later the highested embraced saidar. Not unusual at all in the tower. It wasnt even that surprising that she wove a shield to hide their words. Neserin had given and received enough tongue lashings behind the veil of saidar. She was sure that's what it would be. A reprimand. A warning. No doubt all given in that icy calm fashion of Alira’s. Frankly Neserin had found that cool detachment more chilling than yelling. The Highest deserved respect because of her title...but the warrior also showed her the respect she was due because she was scary as the jack of shadows!

So the red sister sat, ready to endure her tongue lashing with a mix of stubbornness and anger. Resigned to take the verbal beating in silence but showing no sign of turning meek. The other reds words were what ultimately startled Neserin out of her temper. The borderlander shifting in her seat like a swordsman adjusting his stance for a different sort of assault then he’d planned. She still didn't agree with Alira. The other woman was giving the Hall too much credit. However it was...good...yes good to hear she was not swept up in this unification bullshit.

“Of course” the warrior snapped out a moment after Alira, agreeing in a tone didn't much sound like agreement at all. Of course they were wrong. Of course they were fools. Caught up in her own grief and fury over those long ago deaths Neserin couldn't pretend to understand where the Hall was coming from. It felt wrong. Down to her very bones. While so many had been quick to try and put the dark chapter behind them Neserin had never allowed herself to entirely move on-move past-the loved ones who had died. She would not forget them. She would mourn her sister forever. She deserved nothing less.

As the Highest continued to speak Neserin realized her own snap judgement had been wrong. It made sense that Alira understood. She had seen the corruption of saidin. She had seen what they could do unchecked. She knew the high cost paid by the women of the white tower when their so-called brothers fell out of line. Perhaps their feelings were not so distant after all. By the time the higheste paused Neserin found herself leaning forward. She’d never cared to amass power. At least not the political sort. That she enjoyed the frontlines more than tactics meetings had only made it even easier to leave the business of plotting and planning to others.

Still the words poured out of her before she could stop them. “Highest-Alira Sedai you must know I would do anything for our sisters, for the tower” when Neserin had been younger she’d been hungry for adventure. Glory even. All that had changed during the war. As if protecting other young red sisters, keeping the ajah safe could somehow undo the death of her own sister. Teshania’s name was still too painful to hear. Yet her sister had been dedicated to the red, meant for it since novicehood. Neserin had chosen red for her sister. She’d give her life to protect it, knowing Tesh would have done the same.

“What would you have me do?”

[Alira Asuwan]

Alira watched Neserin as she spoke, noting the anger draining out of the Kandori and replacing itself with interest. Neserin was a Red Sister loyal to the bone. She had seen the fallout of Rahlin's atrocities firsthand, knew the risks and the dangers the White Tower faced, and had survived in the years since by stoking her anger into a burning bright fire of rage. Alira admired Neserin's drive, though it made the other woman an easily predicted blunt instrument. Still, that was what the Red Ajah needed now.

“Highest-Alira Sedai you must know I would do anything for our sisters, for the tower.”

Alira inclined her head a fraction, waiting for the words.

“What would you have me do?”

Cold satisfaction and a not-whisper rose to meet them. Alira didn't smile; never that. Instead, she tapped one finger on the hilt of the dagger, nodding more overtly now.

"This will not be easy for you, I fear. You were born for battlefields, but other battles await you now. When Mirin steps down, you will be raised as the next Red Sitter, to carry your voice and passion into the Hall of the Tower."

Mirin's usefulness had come to an end now that din Ziago moved so openly to engage the Black. There was a time to make the Red seem amenable to reasonable compromise, but they had clearly passed the point where reason was a key. Passion would serve where reason had failed; factious chaos to disrupt proceedings and uncompromising stances to center discussion on where it needed to be for Alira to work. As for Mirin, well...Mirin would spend the next few years in a more appropriate setting--perhaps a nice farm with plenty of honest work could be found instead.

Alira focused her cold gaze on Neserin.

"I will not mislead you, Neserin Odessa. You will be my hunting hound in the Hall. You will drive them before us, harry them to exhaustion with your tenacity. You serve the Red Ajah, the White Tower, and the world in a new fashion, and I expect nothing less than your total commitment."

Alira settled back in the chair, then, her shoulder throbbing. She suddenly felt older than her years, and resisted the urge to close her eyes or otherwise reveal her discomfort. It was not regret that sapped her, of course. Alira no longer felt such things.

"Do you understand?"

[Neserin Odessa]

Meant for battlefields...it was a fairly kind way of putting it. As a child Neserin and her sister had spent most of their time traveling with their trader parents. They were often left to their own devices, able to run wild. Independence was encouraged. Boldness rewarded. Coming to live in the tower had been jarring. The sisters had found their wings clipped. It was hard on the both of them but far harder on Neserin, who rebelled on a bone deep level against so much the towers natural order. To make matters worse she’d been too honest, too obvious in her passions. If not for her sister...if she’d been a hair less talented… it was likely she’d have never made it to the shawl. Leaving in a fury or likely thrown out as hopeless. As it was it had taken a painful number of turns to beat some semblance of obedience into Neserin. Even now the red sister was more a warhose than a content farm mare.

Whatever she imagined Alira might ask of her… it wasnt what came out of the Highests mouth. For a moment surprise flashed across the sisters expression before again hardening, focused. “I am...honored. Thank you.” She was not fool enough to imagine herself as the most diplomatic of her ajah. Or the wisest. Or the most beloved. Oh Neserin could stoke tempers and rally sisters before a fight but she was not a player of the great game. She was more concerned about doing what was right instead of what was popular. Her words were direct and firey. No honey to hide the poison. Alira knew this.

Tilting her head to the side slightly the Aes Sedai studied the woman in front of her. There were those in the tower, in the red ajah itself, that dismissed Neserin as simple. Her quick fuse and affection for combat made it easy to dismiss her. She was no white or blue to spin intricate webs but there was a cleverness to the red. Fools after all did not long survive in war or life in the borderlands. It meant the woman had some idea of Alira’s intentions. Some of them. Only a total idiot would think they knew all of a sister's schemes.

She would be the cavalry, meant to drive the Halls outward unity apart. Or as Alira herself put it a hunting hound. Neither analogy bothered the red. It was a surprising assignment and not one Neserin would have necessarily chosen...but she never believed in asking others to do what you yourself were not. She had wanted someone to cry out against the injustice in the Hall. To fight for what the Red Ajah needed. While it wasnt the way Neserin had expected she was going to get her wish.

To serve the red ajah, the white tower, and to protect the world. It was Neserins drive. Alira had seen fit to direct her sword in a different direction but the red would not balk. Her full commitment? Ha! “You have it” Again no hesitation. Fearless and loyal to her ajah, to the White Tower, it was one of Neserins greatest weaknesses. She would certainly never expect a betrayal from within her own ajah, blind to many of its faults. Even the other ajahs often misguided and foolish… she largely chalked their antics up to ignorance than outright ill intent. With any luck her time in the Hall might even beat some sense into them. It made the red sister smile, a sharp tug at the corner of her lip.

“You want me to fracture them. Or at least focus their attention in a new direction, make them remember what they shouldn't have forgotten '' It wasnt a task that would earn her admirers...but fame wasnt Neserins goal. The more she thought about it… the task wasnt so terrible. She nodded. “I can do that. And I will take pleasure in seeing what our sisters are truly made of when their feet are held to the fire” Metaphorically of course! One of the reasons Neserin loved battle was it stripped away so many layers. You saw a person's true metal on the battlefield. How they fought, how they moved, it told you something about their character that could not be faked. She was no noble lady raised in palaces where fans spoke and every sentence was a map. She was a warrior.

“I will bring the battle to the Hall, rest assured”

[Alira Asuwan]

Alira watched Neserin's expression as the other woman flitted between surprise, determination, and satisfaction. Neserin Odessa would do her duty. Alira had never doubted it, and she took in the information with cold satisfaction mingled with resignation. This would burn Neserin's bridges to the other Ajahs, in some cases. The level of anger she would need to bring to the Hall would scandalize some, and her rhetoric would drive others away as well. It felt unfair to consign the younger woman to becoming a pariah among her 'respectable' sisters, but it had to be done and Alira would not balk at doing it. Besides, Neserin was no fool. She knew the risks, and likely would have taken them whether she Sat in the Hall or no.

"I am...honored. Thank you. You have it."

Alira nodded, watching the sharp grin that crossed Neserin's face with a blank, dispassionate expression. Neserin would enjoy parts of this assignment, perhaps too much. That was something Alira would need to keep an eye on; the younger Red knew little of restraint, which made her valuable, but there were times to speak softly. Neserin would not be able to do that, but she could be kept silent at such times. Another thing to remember.

"You want me to fracture them. Or at least focus their attention in a new direction, make them remember what they shouldn't have forgotten. I can do that. And I will take pleasure in seeing what our sisters are truly made of when their feet are held to the fire. I will bring the battle to the Hall, rest assured."

Alira felt a flicker of a long-unused impulse, the barest hint of an urge to smile that was not, in the end, reflected on her features. In this moment, satisfaction outweighed resignation. The Hall would underestimate this particular blunt instrument. Neserin was clever and driven, and even though politics was not her preferred battleground, Alira did not doubt that she would learn what she needed to survive. She could see more clearly than most Alira's purpose for her and accepted it with open arms. The stirring of air at her side that did not actually move did not disturb her as she stood.

"I knew you would, Neserin. The work we do is invaluable, the stakes higher than most are willing to imagine."

Alira's voice was quiet and still, the smile fading as her eyes sought the door. With a gesture, she unraveled the wards around the sitting room.

"We will speak again, soon. For the time being, you will temper your criticisms for Mirin Sedai. It is unbecoming of an Aes Sedai to attack a Sitter of her own Ajah, particularly where others might hear."

The rebuke was delivered in the same tone. It was true, though it was also for the benefit of anyone who might have attempted to listen in. Alira knew that paranoia was merely the beginning of adequate preparation. She nodded at Neserin, a calmly measured motion, ignoring the dull throb of her shoulder.

"Good day, Sister."