Fire and Ice

[Eshara Aravell]

Eshara nodded and ran her eyes over the scene playing out below. The trollocs scattered, while the armies of Alirycas harried and pursued them with the aid of the women on the walls, weaves of fire being crafted - with skill and speed, if not strength - setting the last of the stragglers aflame as they fled up the nearest hill and out of sight. There were several wounded from what she could see, though - thankfully - few dead. Certainly Varisa would be able to handle everything from here - two centuries of experience had hardened the woman enough. Eshara had always done her best to keep a few of her descendants here during the days of the Last Battle, and none of those who had survived the chaos of those end days had been more experienced than Varisa. Though unassuming, she had saved Eshara’s life several times at Merrilor’s Field as House Aravell fought beneath the banner of the three fishes.

“As you wish, Elaira Sedai. At my quarters, perhaps?” Eshara murmured, beckoning discreetly to Varisa. At the subtle signal from Eshara, Varisa came gliding over, serene as any Aes Sedai as she curtsied to Elaira Sedai and paid her respects, spreading her brown skirts wide.

“Varisa, I need you to assume the Shield.” Eshara gestured towards the female dreadlord. Nodding in understanding, Varisa took control of the link, while Eshara turned and beckoned towards Elaira Sedai. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Varisa beckon at one of the other groups, assuming control of their circle as well, while releasing Eshara from its grasp. Conscious that Elaira Sedai no longer held saidar, Eshara released the Source as well with an inward sigh of regret, the bright colours of the world now muted in contrast. The shield on the dreadlord flickered, but remained in place as the control was transferred over to Varisa. Three women holding the shield - even as weak as they were - would be more than enough, and Eshara herself could have done no better. Nodding in acknowledgement, she turned back to Elaira Sedai, and froze in midstep.

A dark man in a black coat, the sword and the dragon pins both on his collar, came striding up towards them. His face was smooth and young, but his eyes burned with a dark and unquenchable anger, and Eshara could not help but think to better days when he smiled easily.

Sometimes, she wondered how he had fallen so far, yet risen so high.

Terron opened his mouth to speak, but Eshara did not give him a chance. “I see that you enjoy your stay here at Alirycas. It has been long since I have seen you, greatson.”

[Terron Aravell]

But not long enough. Terron finished inwardly, his eyes dark, as it always was when he returned back to the city that he had once called home. Given a choice, Terron would not have returned specifically to Alirycas, but for some reason the Captain-General hd been particularly insistent. The city’s reputation as one of the prime locations where the Shadow would strike hardest had grown over the years, and certainly they knew Terron had links to Alirycas. The name of Aravell had become well known in both Towers since the days of the Last Battle, and in the hundred years since Tarmon Gai’don they had sent sons and daughters to be trained as both Aes Sedai and Asha’man. They were not influential like the Aybaras, the Mandragorans, the Trakands, the Cauthons or the Damodreds, but the House of Aravell did have a reputation for producing numerous channellers.

And so, bearing the name of Aravell and the title of Captain of the Earth, Terron had been assigned to Alirycas for a short duration to further establish relations between the Black Tower and Alirycas. It was a fruitless exercise, or so Terron had protested, for Alirycas had sent several sons to become Asha’man since the days of the Last Battle, but the Captain-General had overridden his protestations and saddled him with a Soldier to attend to during his time here so that he could gain experience. And so during the raid, Terron had let the Soldier gain a first-hand experience of battle without wishing to intervene and reveal himself yet. The training in the Black Tower itself was hard, but Terron had not been prepared for war when the Blight had first appeared and the Shadow reared its ugly head. He had been as unprepared as the newest Soldier on his first day on the battlefield, and it was better that Cirus gain that experience while he could still be protected, rather than alone as Terron had been.

Terron had barely survived, that first battle, alone facing two dreadlords. Cirus should count himself lucky that he had help from not only the Kin, but Eshara herself and another Aes Sedai to boot.

“Matriarch of Aravell.” Terron intoned emotionlessly despite the storm of anger in his eyes at being forced back to Alirycas. “Aes Sedai. The Light’s greetings to you upon this day.” He gestured towards the male Dreadlord, who was being led hand and foot from the wall. “I am Terron, Captain of the Earth Legion and the Black Tower’s temporary representative to Alirycas during this time. The Black Tower claims custody over the male Dreadlord.” At the corner of his eye, Terron saw Eshara’s lips tighten slightly at the omission of his House name, a sore point for both of them.

[Cirus]

Cirus was shocked to hear the request that he join the Aes Sedai and the matriarch elsewhere. He would have thought himself not important enough to merit more than a passing comment from a full sister. Even if it was the one who had saved his life years ago, he could not imagine him being important enough to sit in on any kind of meeting that would be between the head of a house and an Aes Sedai. He said nothing, waiting only to see what the other woman would have to say. After all, it was not his place to question his elders or to interject when they were having a discussion.

The conversation seemed to shift quickly at the arrival of the full brother of the Black Tower. Cirus didn’t know exactly what it was going on but he could feel the air change as the man walked over. It was not the sort of welcome feeling he would have expected based on how the older woman addressed the Captain, on the contrary it made Cirus shiver briefly, despite the exertion he’d experienced mere moments before from the assault on the walls. The tone the captain used reminded him far too much of how his own mother used to speak to him, cold and angry. Like he had been an unwanted intruder rather than family.

He did his best to pay attention to anything other than the encounter here before him, which meant he ended up looking out over the wall to the remnants of the raid. The corpses of the fallen shadow spawn were already being piled up, presumably to be burned in massive bonfires, or perhaps to be reclaimed by the blight itself. He wasn’t sure which was a worse sight to behold, the carnage of the battle below him or the fight for supremacy happening behind him.

[Elaira Taravin]

Her grin turned into a bright, sunny smile as Lady Aravell agreed to her request. Perhaps she could do this, after all? She still didn't completely feel as though she'd caught the woman on equal footing, but hearing herself addressed as "Elaira Sedai" was a strange and wonderful feeling. Elaira watched curiously as Lady Aravell beckoned another woman, Varisa, over to help maintain the woman's shield. There was a passing resemblance, there...family, perhaps? Elaira resisted the opportunity to dig open her satchel and pour through her notes, though her gloved hand did tighten over it perceptibly. Instead, still smiling, Elaira watched as a small circle took over the woman dreadlord's shield. The abrupt change in Lady Aravell's demeanor froze the smile on her face far deeper than the Saldaean winter ever could, and Elaira haltingly turned to face the same direction, half certain she should be reaching for saidar.

A man had arrived; not a man, another Asha'man. A full member of the Black Tower, in truth, based on the pins, and a darkly dangerous one at that. Young-seeming in the way that most Asha'man had, tall, lean and with a warrior's stride, nothing unnerved Elaira more than the burning rage in his eyes. Elaira took a step back, forcing herself to lower the hand still at her chest and shot a questioning glance to Cirus. The young Soldier seemed keen to ignore the encounter unfolding before them.

“I see that you enjoy your stay here at Alirycas. It has been long since I have seen you, greatson.”

Elaira's eyes widened and half-turned her head to look at Lady Aravell. The woman was a stone, for all her posture or expression gave away. Her greatson was so much more expressive. Despite the emotionless, nearly, bored cast to his words the man radiated anger. Elaira summoned enough of bearing to incline her head when his attention shifted, briefly, toward her. Perhaps Cirus had the right idea? She had no desire to be involved in a family squabble...though the next words from this 'Terron' dropped her jaw.

"The Black Tower claims custody over the male Dreadlord.”

But...I captured him. And we still need to question him, and he should be going back to the White Tower to be gentled.... This was a major accomplishment for her!  She doubted anyone in the Tower was expecting her to return with a dreadlord, especially on her own.  Elaira clasped her hands together by force of habit, trying to muster something, anything. But how was she supposed to argue against that?

"That dreadlord was taken by.... I mean. We captured him. I was thinking he might be turned over to the White Tower for questioning...."

Elaira cringed at her voice; she didn't sound like much of an Aes Sedai. It was a halting, uncertain thing, starting off too quiet before jumping up, too loud, and finally finishing barely audible. She had heard nobles in Caemlyn sound more decisive. Innkeepers too. All manner of men and women, great and small. All that effort wasted. She suddenly wished that Adela was there, or Ishara. Neither would back down from this challenge, but Elaira couldn't muster up the strength for another battle, today.

[Terron Aravell]

Terron blinked slowly, surprised at the audacity of the Aes Sedai - Red Ajah, based on her clothing - and then his eyes hardened in augers as he drew himself up to his full height. “The Black Tower respects the words of the White Tower, as twin pillars standing against the Shadow. Yet,” his eyes burned right into the Aes Sedai of the White Tower. “Yet, the Black Tower holds the final claim on male channellers since the days of the Last Battle. We are not back to the days before the cleansing of saidin where the taint of the Dark One rested heavily upon men. Does the White Tower still seek to control the men of the Black Tower instead of holding each as equals?” He stared at the Red Sister for a moment, making his point clearly heard. Though his words were soft, they fell like stones upon the heads of the Aes Sedai. Gone were the days when men who could channel were hunted like wild and dangerous animals and cut off from the Source. Men and women now held equal footing in this world, a pity that the Aes Sedai still tried to claim hold upon that which they did not understand.

“You go too far,” Eshara replied, and if there had been any warmth in her voice before, there was none now that Terron could hear. “You have …”

“I am the Captain of the Earth Legion.” Terron said coldly, cutting his greatmother off. “You may or may not agree with what I say now, but this is the pact between the Two Towers since the days of the Last Battle.” He turned his attention back to Elaira. “I give you permission to question him while he remains in Alirycas. You may even accompany me back to the Black Tower with him, if you wish to pander about that the White Tower captured him. But the final jurisdiction of male channellers now lies with the Black Tower.” And without further room for argument, Terron turned his back on both his greatmother and the Red Sister, and strode off in the direction of the battlefield. Without breaking stride, he turned to look at Cirus. “You did passably well, Soldier. But in future you will need to show more initiative on the field against the Shadow. Report to me once your are done.” He glanced at both Eshara and the Aes Sedai, the former of whom had a face as stony as his. Turning his back upon the two of them, Terron made a beeline for the gates.

He supposed that, since he sat out for most of the battle, he would participate in the Healing, would Varisa and the others deign to have his help, of course.

[exeunt Terron]

[Eshara Aravell]

If Eshara’s gaze were anything more than intangible, Terron would have burned up on the spot as he disappeared through the gates towards the battlefield, and she wondered how he had managed to rise as high as he had in the Black Tower where there were others more diplomatically suited to the role of Captain of the Earth. Sana’s letters back had mentioned his strength, more importantly his Talents, and most importantly his experience in the field against shadowspawn, but still Eshara could not see why anyone would have chosen Terron over another - it wasn’t as though he had the political connections to make up for his surge in abrasiveness, though maybe that had come later after he had been promoted.

She bowed towards the Red Sister in apology. “Forgive my greatson’s impertinence, Elaira Sedai. I do not know myself where he learned such bad manners - certainly not under my watch. Some things age well, like wine. Others, however, deteriorate with time.” Her lips tightened slightly as he disappeared through the gate, the normal soldiers about him giving him a wide berth. They knew better than to question the presence of an Asha’man, and Eshara would not gainsay him at this particular moment, or the entire town could go up in flames. She would be sure to send a message to Avion in the Black Tower, however. Such arrogance and rudeness towards an Aes Sedai could not be tolerated, not from anyone.

“But let us put him out of our minds for this moment.” Eshara continued, beckoning towards Elaira, the frostiness in the atmosphere around her thawing slowly. “Come, I would offer you the hospitality of our people, such as there is to give so far north. Alirycas is far indeed from the main roads, and things would not come here easily had we not had enough women to Travel.” She glanced at Cirus. “You may accompany us if you wish as Elaira Sedai requests, but I know my greatson enough to know that when he says ‘once you are done’, he means, as soon as you finish up what you are doing. It would not be well if you were to be punished because you do not understand him well enough.”

Some people evidently thought the world revolved around them. Yes, a message to the Black Tower was most definitely in order.

[Cirus]

Cirus might have been looking over the battlefield, but he was listening intently to the conversation behind him. The tone in the captain's voice made him nervous, it was hard and carried authority, but there was something else there, something that reminded Cirus to much of his younger self. He knew just how quickly a conversation that seemed civil could turn into a shouting match with sharp objects being thrown. He could only hope that it wouldn’t come to that here, there was too much at stake for the public to see the towers fielding, and on top of that, Cirus wasn’t sure he could support the captain in a fight here. The man was practically asking for a reprimand if he had spoken to any representative at the Black Tower that way.

Cirus tried to calm himself down, going back to the flame in the void that had served him in keepign his own frustration under wraps so well. He quickly summoned the flame to the void, and along with it the siren call of Saidin. It was hard to believe he’d ever had trouble just feeling that true power there, and he was grateful that he could find the power without the frustration or anger that he’d needed when he first had started channeling almost 3 years ago. He found a small comfort, even if the world seemed to become clearer as he focused, now at least his emotions were removed from the equation, or so he hoped.

As the man left Cirus managed a slight nod in thanks for his recognition, rare indeed from the captain of the earth legion. His nod was done more out of habit than anything indicating thanks or genuine gratitude. The Captain’s comments had left a stinging taste in Cirus mouth, one all to reminiscent of the one he got when he felt the dedicated were being particularly cruel to the new soldiers, or when he saw some of the older, married asha’man yelling at their children. He was certain the captain wasn’t trying to be a bully, or at least that’s what Cirus kept trying to tell himself, as rough as the Captain was, he was a man who had earned his place through fire and grit. Yet at his core Cirus knew the way the man had acted was wrong, and it ate at him from the inside that all his training only told him to keep his mouth shut and let the captain say his piece.

A stone nearby Cirus suddenly cracked, something that shook him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d instinctively been reaching out to the one power. A throwback to his wilder days when he would reach out with fire to cause damage to something. He let go of the power he held, supressing a desire to blush in shame before the two women here. Both had kept their cool, even if Elaira Sedai was calm and collected, despite being not much older than he was, at least in the standards of channelers.

“You may accompany us if you wish as Elaira Sedai requests, but I know my greatson enough to know that when he says ‘once you are done’, he means, as soon as you finish up what you are doing. It would not be well if you were to be punished because you do not understand him well enough.”

The womans words certainly sounded calm enough, as if she were merely addressing him as if he were not part of the same group as the man who had just told them off. He took a deep breath, the cold Saldean air against his lungs felt good after the chaos of the raid, and the far more intense standoff that had just occured. He took another one just to keep himself from snapping at either of them, neither had done wrong to him, neither had treated him with anything but respect.

“I appreciate your concern Lady Aravell, but he did say I should also show more initiative. Besides, it would not do for one so low as me to turn down the request of an Aes Sedai.”

A dangerous play, but a risk worth taking if it meant he did not have to be near the captain for an hour or two. By then Cirus own rage would have calmed down and he wouldn’t be the subject of a beating or reprimand when they returned to Caralain.

[Elaira Taravin]

Elaira lowered her hands to her skirts, fidgeting with them under Terron's glare.  She eventually looked away, thoroughly overruled.  She wasn't trying to control men!  She'd just wanted to handle things properly.  All the old tales of Reds as hunters of men, disliked and distrusted, felt so alien to Elaira and how she viewed herself.  The chance that anyone could look at her and see someone like that felt fundamentally wrong.  The lecture went on, along with a condescending offer to journey to the Black Tower with him.  Not even the slightest chance under the Light.  By the time Terron had turned to Cirus, Elaira's courage had rallied.  Tightening her grip on her skirts, she resolved to stare him in the eye.

"I..."

She didn't get a chance to reply.  By the time she looked up, Terron was striding away, back to her.  She sighed loudly, the sharp intake of breath she'd drew to fight back suddenly wasted.  She knew, of course, that the Black Tower likely could claim the dreadlord, but she had been the one to capture him!  Terron hadn't even been on the wall, so far as she'd seen.  And now he was just walking away, declaring victory?  Well.  That was thoroughly demoralizing. Elaira turned, a faint blush coloring her face and neck.  Lady Aravell was speaking, and Elaira hurriedly reconstructed her objectives.  She was more pleasant than her greatson, surely, but just as intimidating.  The look in her eye could crack rocks, One Power or not, and Elaira hurriedly adopted what she hoped was a disarming smile, slightly offset by the still present flush.  Recover your footing.  Remember your training.  Elaira took another deep breath, trying to find her center.

The offer to leave the wall was a welcome one.  The wind continued to bite, and Elaira realized with a start she'd never replaced her hood after the battle.  It was too late for that now, so Elaira merely nodded her thanks.  The invitation extended to Cirus was a welcome surprise; she'd thought for sure that Terron's behavior or presence would disqualify the Soldier, but Lady Aravell seemed willing to let such things slide.  A faint smile crossed her face, but it was wiped out quickly when she turned to look at Cirus.  He was holding the power, though he let it go hastily and Elaira raised an eyebrow slightly.  Control was a hard thing, and harder for wilders she'd heard.  Still, she was surprised to see it had slipped after Terron's lecture.  Perhaps she wasn't the only person intimidated by him?  Though Cirus admitted no such thing by choosing to come with them, of course.  It brought a smile to Elaira's face anyway.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Aravell.  I've been traveling for some time now, and I must confess I'm not quite used to spring in the Borderlands."

She was thankful that her voice sounded remarkably more controlled than it had earlier.  That was a relief. 

"As we walk, perhaps you could share a bit about Alirycas?  I hope to learn more about your beautiful city...I confess I've never had the opportunity to visit its like."

She could do this.  She was Aes Sedai.

[Eshara Aravell]

“You flatter me, Elaira Sedai.” Eshara said with a slight smile as they moved towards the center of the town. “But Alirycas is built more to withstand the harshness of winter rather than relieve the glories of past ages. Certainly it cannot compare to the glory of the Shining Walls or the rebuilt Caemlyn, and without the advent of Travelling our people would long since have been lost to the snows, for winter is harsh here, as I am sure you know.” She glanced at Elaira, noting the way her cloak was hanging loosely about her despite the cold winter air. Eshara knew that the Aes Sedai had a trick to ignore either both heat or cold, but as the centuries went by and she had the opportunity to observe the Aes Sedai while at the White Tower as she brought descendants to the Tower, had led to the conclusion that it had nothing to do with the One Power.

It was an interesting problem, one that Eshara fell back towards when she found that she had nothing to do and plenty of time to spare, something that was becoming more and more scarce nowadays.

“Have you been to the Borderlands before?” Eshara continued, as the men and women about their way along the street curtseyed to Eshara and moved on, not staying long enough to see the Great Serpent Ring on Elaira’s finger, to her amusement. The streets were wide and the homes, though relatively plain and simple, were tasteful. Alirycas did not strive for beauty or resplendent grandeur, but rather elegance and subtlety. It was much like watching the story of a play unfold before one’s very eyes. A curl here in the architecture, a bird over on the next column, all linked together with wind and sky. Simple and less time-consuming than the grand structures of Caemlyn or Tar Valon or even the rebuilt Maradon, but pleasing to the eye nonetheless.

Twenty years of pure rebuilding after the Last Battle had certainly helped Alirycas thrive, the seat of power of House Aravell, now a Major noble line of Saldaea after the Last Battle. Rebuilding it had fallen upon those eager to rebuild their homes in designs far greater than the rudimentary village that Alirycas had been before Tarmon Gai’don. The fifty years after had been bountiful, even with the harshness of winter, staved off now by the open workings of Eshara and the Kin with her that warmed the air and lighted the fields even in the depths of winter to feed a growing population. The valleys to the south of Alirycas, the plains just beneath the Mountains of Dhoom, bloomed with life unchecked and unknown since the days before the Trollocs Wars.

Even now, when the Bore had been reopened and the Blight unleashed, the combined efforts of Aes Sedai, Asha’man and Kin had managed to keep the ripple effects from spreading too far, too fast. But as the years went by and the Blight moved south, Eshara estimated that in a few hundred years the taint would be at Alirycas’ doorstep.

Hopefully Wards would be enough to keep it off then.

They strode through the gates to the House of Aravell into a small, but flourishing courtyard, where spring was in full bloom as it was dormant elsewhere. Elaira would be able to see the weaves of Air, Fire and Water, though faint, but woven skilfully to keep a measure of heat during the winter that allowed the garden to thrive and the waters to run. In some ways, the weaves tied off about the garden were the ones maintained about the growing fields in miniature, a testament to the source of Alirycas’ greatest strength in their battle against the Shadow. Eshara turned to Elaira and smiled slightly. “It certainly cannot compare to the gardens of Tar Valon, but I do like some green even during the depths of winter.”

[Cirus]

Cirus followed the two women at a respectful pace, close enough to hear what they were talking about if they didn’t speak in whispers, but far enough back so as not to be stepping on anyones heels. He had seen some full Asha’man move through streets in a similar manner and did his best to mimic their movements, keeping his eyes open for everything while trying to stay tuned into the conversation ahead of him. The discipline of the Black Tower helped him to at least look the part and he soon found himself in lock step at roughly three paces behind the two women as they carried on their conversation. Close enough that the circle they formed with their presence encapsulated him without causing a break in the traffic that was flowing throughout the city.

While they talked his own eyes took in the streets of Alirycas. They were much like the streets of Caralain, or even Caemlyn in his youth. Many families were returning to their business as if little had just happened The air was certainly colder than anything he remembered further south, but it didn’t seem to bother the people walking through the streets. The children still played in the streets, and the men and women all walked about their business as if it were a warm spring day. He supposed that living with it as often as they did made them more used to it than he ever could hope to be without the concentration technique.

His wonder at the city may have been decently hidden, but when they entered what he assumed was the mansion of the nobles he could not hide his sheer awe. His act of playing some sort of guard was lost as they entered through a beautiful gate into a courtyard that looked like it was pulled straight The gardens were still actually in bloom, and the biting cold that bit against his lungs on the walls was replaced with a cool breeze that was more like an early spring wind. The water, rather than being frozen in place as it was on the street, was flowing freely. He could only assume this was the work of Saidar, and he could only marvel at the works that were around the mansion.

[Elaira Taravin]

Elaira was a blaze of color as the trio walked through the snowy streets of Alirycas. Her golden hair and red cloak stood contrasted sharply with the snow and mud of the city streets. The trio made their way slowly toward the center of town, Elaira and Lady Aravell side by side with Cirus several steps behind. Elaira listened to the matriarch of House Aravell with ill-disguised curiosity.  The overwhelming presence of Terron was fading from her mind, and even Lady Aravell's imposing presence had faded somewhat.  Alirycas was fascinating; not the most beautiful city, true.  Elaira had spent her life in Ogier-wrought cities, true marvels of the world, in Caemlyn and Tar Valon.  By contrast, Alirycas's structures felt mundane.  Still, to Elaira it felt marvelously novel.  Wrapped in snow it truly felt like an outpost at the end of the world.  She fought the urge to draw out her notebook, to scribble notes or designs.  It was a habit she'd picked up upon taking her studies more seriously; it channeled her thoughts and provided a useful reference.  More than one Sister had told informed Elaira it wasn't proper behavior when interacting with others.  It hardly gave them the correct impression of Aes Sedai detachment.

Instead, she walked beside Lady Aravell, matching her pace, gloved hands clasped before her demurely.  She let the older woman talk, nodding appropriately.  The winter chill had faded away as she'd regained her composure.  Elaira's fur-lined red clock was loose about her, flapping behind her in the breeze.  For the moment, it was more ornamental than practica.  Another confrontation with Terron might jeopardize that along with her composure.

“Have you been to the Borderlands before?”

Elaira blinked thrice in succession, realizing she was being asked a direct question.  It came almost as a surprise, though Elaira was adept at concealing that distraction from others by this point.

"I have not had the pleasure, Lady Aravell, until recently.  I've not traveled much until quite recently."

That would be a confirmation of things Lady Aravell already guessed, Elaira suspected.  The Aes Sedai was young and inexperienced, and quite nearly admitted as much.  That was fine, so far as Elaira was concerned; she didn't think she could bully this woman into anything, or even trick her with any success.  Eshara Aravell had all the steel of an Amyrlin Seat, even if Elaira was stronger in the Power.  Elaira wanted to talk, and honesty seemed the weapon.

And there was the matter of Cirus to think about.  The boy--the young man--wasn't just 'trailing after them.'  He was maintaining a professional and respectful distance, carrying himself like a soldier.  Every time she glanced back (and the glances were frequent) he was surveying the area.  He reminded her of a Warder.  Oh, how far he's come!  Her heart soared, her mind could scarcely connect the two images of Cirus that were so at odds with one another.  One part of her saw a rags-clad urchin.  Another saw a black-coated Soldier, strong and in control of himself.  He'd found a place, and control, after all. 

The House of Aravell proved to be more of a challenge.  The courtyard was a beautiful impossibility, brought together by silken strands of saidar.  Mouth open slightly in wonder, Elaira moved to one and examined it closely.  One gloved hand reached up, almost cupping the weave.

"It is wonderful, Lady Aravell!"  Elaira kept the squeal of excitement from her voice, mostly.  She could see how it worked, how the weave kept the warmth of spring in the courtyard year round.  Was it known at the Tower?  Perhaps, but they'd never seen fit to teach her.  Could it be used elsewhere?  To tend fields, or fend off the cold?  This was why Elaira had sought the Kin out.  They had different priorities, different skills, ones that the White Tower could use if it simply listened.

After another moment of examination, Elaira stepped back and straightened up, still smiling.  She turned to Cirus, if anything her smile broadening. "We are both a long way from home aren't we, Soldier Cirus?"

Her smile faded slowly, unfortunate thoughts becoming more prominent.  She was on the right track, but it was time to focus.

"This is marvelous, Lady Aravell.  Truly.  And I'm glad that Alirycas stands against the Shadow, the rest of the Westlands rely, as always, upon the stalwart hearts of the Borderlands.  Please, if you could tell me...do these raids happen often?  With channelers fighting for the Shadow?  I...had not heard that things were quite so serious, further south."

[Eshara Aravell]

The looks of wonder on Elaira and Cirus’ faces as they entered the garden made Eshara smile, even for just a moment. The weaves weren’t really taught in the White Tower, but centuries of practice and eventual experimentation on what Eshara had learned allowed her a few tips and tricks. The weave might or might not have been known in the White Tower - her descendants who were Aes Sedai certainly had seen the weaves before, but she did not know if they had shown it to their Sisters. She gazed about with some degree of pride as the flows. Though Eshara could have strengthened them, it was never wise to throw about the One Power with too much strength - often, subtlety was key. Too much Fire would have set the air alight, for example, and a touch of Water was always needed to keep humidity at acceptable levels. The right combination had been found through years of trial and error, and while the White Tower once frowned upon such experimentation within their jurisdiction, since the days of the Last Battle much had changed.

Her greatdaughter Sretia was one such example, an Aes Sedai of the White Ajah who specialised in the experimentations of the weaving of the One Power, especially of those relating to weather.

However, as Elaira Sedai turned back to more serious matters, Eshara’s amusement faded, and her face became solemn. “Not here, Elaira Sedai.” She replied shortly, picking up the pace as she led them through the courtyard into the manor itself, where the air was cooler in the absence of the weaves. The servants curtsied as she swept through, and she beckoned one of them forward. “Please prepare the guest quarters for Elaira Sedai, here.” She looked at Cirus. “I assume that my greatson has arranged for accommodation elsewhere for you.” If Terron had not, then she would arrange it herself, but if her greatson had been here for a few days prior, Cirus would have had accommodation. Though come to think, it was strange that word of his arrival had not reached her ears. She shrugged inwardly - there was time to ponder that riddle later. Of more import was the question that Elaira Sedai had asked of her, but that was a matter for behind closed doors.

The rooms that Eshara led both Elaira and Cirus to was, as with the rest of the village, elegant and tasteful in design, if slightly more elaborate than those her people were used to. She waved a hand at the fireplace as she carried the tea-set over from a nearby stand. “If you would, soldier? Practice is always good.” She paused for a moment. “Might I ask for the courtesy of your name as well? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch it earlier.”

As Cirus tended to the fireplace, Eshara steeped the tea in the pot and heated it with a few strands of fire. Once the tea had boiled, she wove strands of Air and served for both Elaira and Cirus, before pouring a cup for herself and settling down into the chair and releasing the Source. Eshara sat staring at the fireplace for a moment, sipping the tea, before responding.

“Dreadlords have always fought for the Shadow.” Eshara said quietly. “It was so in the days of the Last Battle, but only then. But now they must do so openly, because otherwise the raids wouldn’t be of much use at all. A channeller such as yourself is worth several fists of trollocs, if the walls are high enough. And since the Blight has reawoken both the Earth Legion and the Green Ajah have been very active along the Blightborder. I believe that there aren’t enough trollocs at the moment to keep the raids going, and so those Dreadlords who have sworn to the shadow likely are forced to fight alongside the frontlines to maintain pressure on the Blightborder.” She laughed humourlessly, a slightly bitter sound. “You saw for yourself, Elaira Sedai. On the wall, do you think that, without any Dreadlords, the raid would have stood any chance against our walls with the channellers that we have here in Alirycas? What more along the other Border cities, where there are Aes Sedai and Asha’man stationed to watch? The Shadow knows this, and so they have no choice but to reveal their hands. Where they find these Dreadlords from, I have no idea, but find them they do.”

[Cirus]

"We are both a long way from home aren't we, Soldier Cirus?"

It was certainly true, the city of Alirycas was a long way from either of their homes, though Cirus couldn’t help but think about just how far they had both come since they had last met. The woman he’d met in the streets of Caemlyn had certainly been a kind soul, gentle enough to bring comfort to a street urchin who was terrified of his own shadow at that point in his life. Yet the woman who stood before him now was still very different, she still seemed to hold that kindness yet she had found a calm and forcefulness that reminded him of the other woman who had saved him. Even if her actions were not as direct as the daughter-heir had been, she had far more courage than Cirus would have given her credit for upon their first meeting, especially in dragging a dreadlord across the field of battle.

“We certainly are, Elaira Sedai.”

Her smile was contagious, and Cirus tried to suppress a smile of his own, to no avail. It was hard not to smile at his good fortune. Set on an assignment to a man who rode his charges harder than most in the Black Tower would see fit, to a location where he would barely be of any use and told to ‘learn through experience,’ he had thought that he would have hated every minute of his time upon the border. Instead, he’d had the good fortune to run into one of the people who had saved his life three years ago, and to accompany her as a guest, it was more than he would have dreamed possible at the black tower.

“Not here, Elaira Sedai.”

The tone snapped Cirus out of his memories and dragged him coldly back to the present. He continued to follow the two women as they made their way through the estate, only this time his wonder was replaced by a sense of urgency and mild dread. He knew that they were as safe as they could get in the city this far into the heart of it, hidden behind the walls of the city and in the heart of the leaders' palace. Despite all of that, his earliest training and deepest memories coalesced to form the wariness that he found himself carrying more and more when he was outside of Caralain.

He followed Elaira Sedai and Lady Aravell at the same three paces he used in the city, watching the servants as they went about their business, he found no reason to be suspicious of any of them but still found his eyes watching each of them until he moved beyond them. The servants, for their part, didn’t seem to notice or care that he was present. He was just another guest of house Aravell, of no great importance and certainly not worth a second glance. Indeed, the Lady Aravell was the only one other than Elaira Sedai who seemed to take note of his presence.

“I have a place to sleep Lady Aravell, thank you for your concern.”

Cirus took a spot in a back corner of the room that the Lady Aravell led them to, scanning the room as he did so. It was more elegant than what he would have expected from the borderlands, and far more elegant than anything he had seen at the barracks in the Black Tower. He imagined it must be used often for meetings as there was a kettle already set and a fireplace that had a stack of wood right next to it.

“If you would, soldier? Practice is always good.” Before Cirus could finish nodding he’d already reached out to embrace Saidin. It was easier the calm of the room to focus his energy to fight and control the raging inferno that was the male half of the one power. He reached out and lifted two good sized logs from the pile and put them in the fireplace, placing them as he’d been taught at the Black Tower to allow the air to flow around them and create more heat.

“Might I ask for the courtesy of your name as well? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch it earlier.”

“Cirus, milady.”

Once Cirus had set the logs to his own liking he placed several weaves of fire across them. The logs started to split with the heat almost immediately, and soon after the logs were ablaze with the heat from the weaves he had placed. Once he was done he released the torrent of power that was the male half of the True Source and stood silently in the corner until needed. His excuse for following had been to show initiative and he was sent here to learn. He would observe as best he could for now, and do whatever he could to be of use to the two women.

[Elaira Taravin]

She was reluctant to leave the gorgeous garden courtyard behind.  The spidersilk-thin webs of saidar and the life they'd harbored even through Saldaea's winter were a beauty she'd not soon forget.   But Lady Aravell was already moving, so Elaira fell into step beside her.  She was surprised when one of the servants was given an order to prepare a guest space, but only for a moment.  It was a simple courtesy, but the years spent in the Tower and then the weeks in Saldaean inns had left her somewhat detached from proper courtesy.  To cover up the lapse, she fixed the servant with a smile and a grateful nod before turning to Eshara Aravell herself.

"I thank you for the hospitality, Lady Aravell."

Spending some time as a guest of Lady Aravell, who was almost certainly a member of the Kin, would undoubtedly be eye-opening.  It would certainly better than trying to find yet another inn, this time within Alirycas itself.  The assumption that Cirus would have his accommodations seen to already was a reminder that her preparations were...lacking, to put it nicely  In my defense, the raid started before I had a chance to explore much of the city on my own.  She continued to follow her host, this time into a neatly appointed sitting room.  It wouldn't have been much out of place in House Taravin, a subtle contrast from Alirycas's more martial exterior.  That was an interesting thought.

She watched Cirus with interest as the Soldier brought the room's fireplace to life.  She could feel him embrace saidin, the stormy male half of the One Power.  She couldn't see it, as she did with women. It was a sense of awareness and unease.  Nor could she see the weaves of saidin he spun, igniting the logs with Fire, she presumed.  The halves of the source were as different as night and day, and for a moment Elaira wondered if the weave he used for the fire was different from her own.  Her Talent, the ability to sense when men were using *saidin*, wasn't common.  She also hadn't put it to much use; discovered during her Accepted years while chasing Cirus himself, the opportunities to take advantage of it were few and far between.

Elaira smiled at the Soldier as he took up a spot in the back of the room.  He had grown so much, it was hard to get over it!  She removed her cloak and folded it, keeping the fur-trimmed garment in her lap as she settled into a chair opposite the Aravell matriarch.  The dress beneath her cloak was also in shades of red, albeit a darker shade and with gold embroidery in places.  It had been one of her first purchases before leaving Tar Valon, with a precise fit and durability to go with it.  It was one of her favorites, and with its divided skirts a practical one as well.  Eshara Aravell's weaves were visible to her, delicate and precise strands of Air to serve tea.  Elaira nodded gratefully and took a sip of it, savoring the warmth.  It banished any lingering chill from their time on the wall.

But there were more serious matters than sitting before a warm fire and drinking tea.  Elaira lowered her cup and leaned forward, listening intently as Lady Aravell spoke.  It was true.  The Border was better defended now than at any time in history, so far as Elaira could tell.  The Greens had certainly assisted with that, as well as their Asha'man counterparts.  The raid outside might have been dispersed with the power of Alirycas's channelers alone were it not for the dreadlords mixed with the Shadow's forces.

Elaira settled back and turned her gaze to the fire, thinking.

"The Shadow has never lacked for men and women eager to fall to its temptation."  Her voice was somber, the childish innocence and glee that so often characterized her muted if not invisible entirely.  "Is it truly that desperate, though?  Would not these channelers serve better south of the Borderlands instead of leading futile raids against keeps ready and prepared for them?" She did not have a mind for tactics, but all of this seemed so...wasteful.  What did the Shadow hope to achieve today?  She shook her head, hair rustling against the chair.

"They brought a male channeler too.  Alirycas seems well defended against any women; if I might speak openly, your Kin seem very well equipped to handle them.  Do you have men who can channel as well?  We were lucky that Soldier Cirus was here to spot the dreadlord."  She tried not to think about Terron.

[Eshara Aravell]

“They probably want to hide behind the Trollocs for them to serve as cannon fodder.” Eshara snorted. “Trollocs can’t pass through Gateways, and all the Ways have been reclaimed and are well guarded, and have been so since the Shadow reawakened.” She smiled crookedly. “Darkfriends want the promise of eternal life and rule over all the known world. I can’t imagine any of them sticking their neck out while they are severely outnumbered and risking death for it. But the raids against the Borderlands continue as they always have, as they did during the days before the Last Battle, and if the Shadow has dreadlords, they can press us harder. I mean, there will only be so many Aes Sedai and Asha’man that can be spared to be stationed along the Blightborder. Typically we still do drive them off when they appear, but it usually takes longer and more casualties from the common troops. We were lucky today.”

She glanced at Elaira’s Great Serpent Ring as if for emphasis, and thereafter at Cirus.

Elaira Sedai’s comment about the Kin in Alirycas gave Eshara pause, somewhat, reminding her of the times after the Last Battle when the status of all channellers outside the bounds of the White Tower were uncertain. Eshara herself had been an issue of discussion, though it had not truly been made public, for though she was of a strength to become Aes Sedai, and a very strong one at that, she did not wish to return to life as an Accepted, nor to become Aes Sedai. She had married, had become involved in her House for more than a hundred years, had had children. The life of an Aes Sedai and the politics it entailed appealed to her even less than it had when she had first discovered she could channel at the age of sixteen. But the arms and the reach of the White Tower were long, and they did not want to let a woman of Eshara’s capabilities go unchecked if they could help it. But no more could they force her to take the testing, for she had already taken it and failed.

And so a compromised had been reached. Eshara and those of her descendants in Alirycas who remained, either too weak to reach the Shawl or had been put out for other reasons, would all enter their names as part of the Kin. And thus they would remain tied to the White Tower. But another problem had resurfaced, for the Kin were tied to Andor, stationed in Caemlyn. The very nature of the Kin before the Last Battle had meant that the Kin had no allegiance to any save their own, and those like Eshara who had dedicated their lives to a place other than Andor resisted tying themselves to Caemlyn and the Lion Throne due to possible conflicts of interest. Saldaea and Andor were tied together by blood ever since the days of the Last Battle, the alliance between the two was strong. But channellers lived very very long lives, and alliances shifted and changed in the generations that passed those like Eshara in a blink of an eye, or less.

The Kin too had to evolve and change, to accommodate those who had interests and ties to certain nations beyond Andor. And so the Kin themselves decided, that those who had ties to any nation would be allowed to keep those ties, but they would not engage in national politics, and they would not take sides in any conflict except where the entirety of the Dragon Pact was committed. Eshara herself had come dangerously close at times to breaking those rules as the Matriarch of a great Saldaean House, but ultimately she never had any direct say in any decisions made by the Saldaean nobility, except where she had nudged the High Seat of House Aravell one way or another. But it was known in Alirycas that when Eshara spoke, House Aravell listened. Yet, was that influence part of political persuasion? Or was it simply respect to someone who had lived for more than three hundred years?

None of the other “Kin” who lived in Alirycas with her were in danger of treading that line, for none of them had Eshara’s influence, nor were they almost singlehandedly responsible for the generations of female channellers and even Aes Sedai that could ultimately trace their ancestry back to Eshara, now more than ever.

“The men of my progeny who can channel usually are snapped up as Asha’man - they have no lower limit on the requirement for … strength. Forgive me for speaking so bluntly.” Eshara’s mouth twisted slightly out of habit and reflex. Speaking of the strength of someone in the Power so directly was still a hard matter for her - the White Tower had been very clear on the taboo about speaking of one’s strength in the Power during Eshara’s time. “So it is often that they may not return for more than short stretches at a time, because their duties to the Black Tower call them elsewhere. In contrast, there are several among the women who cannot pass the test for Aes Sedai, and so they often return here, free of obligations, allowing them to more than make up for the lack after years of experience. There is also usually a full Asha’man or two stationed here in Alirycas, but I did not expect the identity of the one that we currently have.” Eshara finished, her voice slightly dry near the end.

“Still, we do know how to defend against male channellers, if they do not take us by surprise.” Eshara continued. “We learned it out of necessity when the Blight reawakened.”