Post by Lyraes Merrordren on Dec 5, 2021 23:11:06 GMT
A thick fog settled over Tar Valon, and the White Tower, even as the sun crept over the horizon. The tower, as ever, never stopped with the servants and guard working their rounds throughout the night, the novices performing their chores some even in the dead of night and the Warders were ever vigilant, even at rest they would protect their Aes Sedai. The trainees rose with the sun, at least they stepped onto the grounds with the sun, and their day began as it so often did. Drills. Combat training, wrestling, sword play, archery and just about every other school of warfare open to them. After all, they were training to protect the Towers most valuable assets even if most of them, historically, would not bond with an Aes Sedai. At least, not for years. The winds were changing though, more and more women took up the shall and thus more Aes Sedai needed Warders. Protectors.
Lyraes rose with his peers, he trained with them, he ate with them and whenever he had the time he chose to train with the older Warders, those with a bond. He planned for that day to be no different. He would push himself until his muscles burned and he could barely keep his eyes open, striving to challenge a master one day and earn the Heron mark. To earn the Heron mark and find an Aes Sedai who would weave the bond. An Aes Sedai who would understand his desire to root out even the most basic of evils, perhaps a Green. Come whatever may he was committed to the Heron mark and to the Tower, he hoped that he would never have to choose between the bond, the Heron mark or his home but he knew that he would choose to serve above all.
Trading blows with the other Warders in training for hours on end made his muscles ache and when they finally came to rest, nearly four hours after the day began, the fog had burned away beneath the piercing cool light. His muscles ached and sweat soaked his shirt as he perched upon a low wall with his father’s sword resting against his leg, running the sharpening stone over the edge with a rasp following every stroke. Honing the edge once more. He watched his peers doing the same, taking care of their weaponry, and the novices following one of the accepted through the grounds. Noting a few of the novices staring at the warders and the trainees, rather intently, even as one of the full sisters prowled past.
Life in Tar Valon would never be boring, let alone within the White Tower…
Lyraes rose with his peers, he trained with them, he ate with them and whenever he had the time he chose to train with the older Warders, those with a bond. He planned for that day to be no different. He would push himself until his muscles burned and he could barely keep his eyes open, striving to challenge a master one day and earn the Heron mark. To earn the Heron mark and find an Aes Sedai who would weave the bond. An Aes Sedai who would understand his desire to root out even the most basic of evils, perhaps a Green. Come whatever may he was committed to the Heron mark and to the Tower, he hoped that he would never have to choose between the bond, the Heron mark or his home but he knew that he would choose to serve above all.
Trading blows with the other Warders in training for hours on end made his muscles ache and when they finally came to rest, nearly four hours after the day began, the fog had burned away beneath the piercing cool light. His muscles ached and sweat soaked his shirt as he perched upon a low wall with his father’s sword resting against his leg, running the sharpening stone over the edge with a rasp following every stroke. Honing the edge once more. He watched his peers doing the same, taking care of their weaponry, and the novices following one of the accepted through the grounds. Noting a few of the novices staring at the warders and the trainees, rather intently, even as one of the full sisters prowled past.
Life in Tar Valon would never be boring, let alone within the White Tower…
