Post by Rymara Orelaev on Jan 3, 2022 21:43:54 GMT
Returning to Tar Valon, and the White Tower, was an ordeal unto itself even in the wake of excursions into the Blight. Each step took Rymara and her warder closer to the home which had been forced upon her and further from where she wanted to be, each step represented yet more distance between her and Manetheren or between her and the people of the Borderlands who so evidently needed aid. Despite it Rymara Sedai knew that she needed to return, that Tar Valon had resources she simply could not match alone. She knew that her sisters could provide her with information, that the Gaidin could offer Bas training that no other force in the Westlands could match, perhaps even discipline to temper the fury within and perhaps most important of all Tar Valon could offer the respite. Her quarters within the White Tower had stood empty, even after taking her oaths and so it was time for her to make them her own. Even when they crossed the bridges Tar Valon still felt foreign to her, as home-like as the roads upon which she travelled. The days slipped by as they rested in the city for Rymara, she took meetings with her sisters particularly those of the Green and Blue Ajahs and she rested. Soon she would have to face the politics of the White Tower, the vying for favour between the Ajahs and even between individual Sisters but for now she would help the people. For a week she went out, at dawn and dusk, to offer aid to the sick or comfort to the dying.
The effective use of every moment was key, time would not wait for her nor would the ailments of the people.
Even when Bas forced her to rest she made use of the hours, she poured over tome after tome highlighting discrepancies or reviewing shipments coming in and out of the city. She twisted the numbers over and over in her mind, checking and double checking every single calculation in an effort to streamline the supply lines thus bringing prices down which would inevitably improve availability. She reviewed measures to help the poor, to ensure that if prices fell jobs would remain sustainable and she studied every resource available to her from every land because even the finest details might be important. When she was not studying or aiding the people she turned her attention to her network, spending hours and hours in steam rooms or bath houses. Talking, listening.
She shook her thoughts away, letting them drift like steam billowing from the rocks at the heart of the room as she tried to scrub the filth of years on the road. Even after ten baths, hours in steam rooms she still felt the filth of her travels and no matter how much she scrubbed her skin or rubbed oils into her hair she could not shake it. Perhaps it was the Blight, that dark and corrupted place seemed to follow her everywhere. Even her dreams. She watched as a few sisters trickled into the steam room, some kept their towels close covering everything and others, like Rymara, felt no need to be so modest. The only ones who might disturb them without being summoned were the Gaidin after all, so why not enjoy the cleansing steam in earnest. She offered them all a pleasant smile and a civil nod as she picked her way across the room, opening the door quietly and slipping into the cool air beyond. She crossed the hall and slipped into another chamber, a long room tiled in white and gold stretching out into the open air beyond. The air filled with the soft trickle of water as it wound down through the troughs and down the stones into a deep pool, steam lingering like a shimmering veil over the surface. Rymara could see three Gaidin and their Green sister close to the source and at the far end, out in the cool air of the city near a harpist, she could see two sisters of her own Ajah. Descending into the pool Rymara smiled, almost feeling completely relaxed as the waters covered her.
She could feel Baz, just at the edge of her mind. An unfamiliar sensation but one she had come to appreciate on their travels, like the familiar weight of the stone which rested upon the pale flesh of her forehead as she sank into the water, closing her eyes. Sighing. Relaxing and letting the world fall away.
The effective use of every moment was key, time would not wait for her nor would the ailments of the people.
Even when Bas forced her to rest she made use of the hours, she poured over tome after tome highlighting discrepancies or reviewing shipments coming in and out of the city. She twisted the numbers over and over in her mind, checking and double checking every single calculation in an effort to streamline the supply lines thus bringing prices down which would inevitably improve availability. She reviewed measures to help the poor, to ensure that if prices fell jobs would remain sustainable and she studied every resource available to her from every land because even the finest details might be important. When she was not studying or aiding the people she turned her attention to her network, spending hours and hours in steam rooms or bath houses. Talking, listening.
She shook her thoughts away, letting them drift like steam billowing from the rocks at the heart of the room as she tried to scrub the filth of years on the road. Even after ten baths, hours in steam rooms she still felt the filth of her travels and no matter how much she scrubbed her skin or rubbed oils into her hair she could not shake it. Perhaps it was the Blight, that dark and corrupted place seemed to follow her everywhere. Even her dreams. She watched as a few sisters trickled into the steam room, some kept their towels close covering everything and others, like Rymara, felt no need to be so modest. The only ones who might disturb them without being summoned were the Gaidin after all, so why not enjoy the cleansing steam in earnest. She offered them all a pleasant smile and a civil nod as she picked her way across the room, opening the door quietly and slipping into the cool air beyond. She crossed the hall and slipped into another chamber, a long room tiled in white and gold stretching out into the open air beyond. The air filled with the soft trickle of water as it wound down through the troughs and down the stones into a deep pool, steam lingering like a shimmering veil over the surface. Rymara could see three Gaidin and their Green sister close to the source and at the far end, out in the cool air of the city near a harpist, she could see two sisters of her own Ajah. Descending into the pool Rymara smiled, almost feeling completely relaxed as the waters covered her.
She could feel Baz, just at the edge of her mind. An unfamiliar sensation but one she had come to appreciate on their travels, like the familiar weight of the stone which rested upon the pale flesh of her forehead as she sank into the water, closing her eyes. Sighing. Relaxing and letting the world fall away.
