OOC – this is a solo RP I shall be continuing as Rossa discovers more about her Talent.

 

~Rossa~

 

Myriad thoughts had ruled while she had tried to concentrate during her lessons that day. A new aspect of Tower life was beginning to dawn on Rossa. She was surrounded by it every day, but it was not until the loneliness of her room accompanied her at night that it really began to affect her. She would not age in the same way as the rest of the world. Rossa belonged to a society whose members would see generations of their families die before they did themselves, still retaining the bloom of youth on their faces until the very end. On considering that further during the day, Rossa had amended it. There was no age to their serene visages.

 

As ageless as the lace itself…

 

And then easing her tired body into bed, still thinking of these dread conclusions and seemingly doomed to live a lonely life deprived of love, Rossa could see how an Aes Sedai relied on her sisters and her warder if she chose to take one, or more. It was not something Rossa could reconcile herself to, not yet. She had lost one family to the all-consuming flames in her past and had already grown accustomed to the fact that she could not have normal relationships because of the age differences, not to mention the effect it would have on the reputation of the White Tower. And yet hearing the talk of it raised once more had brought a new aspect to the numb feeling she usually covered with Daes Dae’mar. Despair.

 

The need for revenge she had nurtured; trying to find traces of who had been responsible for her family’s demise had all resulted in dead ends or it lead to places she could not follow. Yet. When she gained the shawl her name would gain prestige again, and House Venye would rise triumphantly once more, but until then she was merely Rossa Venye, Accepted of the White Tower and therefore it might have been as easy to touch the moon. She did what she could to become the best Aes Sedai. It was a definite change from the girl she had been when she had arrived. Today was a throwback, nothing more. She settled her head on her pillow, exhausted beyond belief in body and mind.

 

Tumultuous thoughts that grew more restive in the darkness, until sleep had claimed her. Yet her mind kept working, kept on disseminating her feelings to manifest their form in her dreams. While her body rested, her mind roamed, seeing faces she knew in different situations that were most unnatural. Nerome, nervous of something and blushing all of a sudden, that face was the clearest. All of the others were fleeting glimpses of other novices, accepted and Aes Sedai she knew and interacted with, until a part of her memory further back took over, and she started seeing her sisters and then her parents.

 

Rossa opened her eyes cautiously, wondering where she was and being more than a little surprised to find herself in her old bed in Altara. This didn’t seem like her old recurring nightmare of burning death – it was far more immediate, far more real. Rossa looked down to see she wore the silk shift she had used to wear, and her hair hung loose around her shoulders. There was not a sign of the Great Serpent ring, so deeply was she dreaming. Looking around the dim night-shadows, Rossa whispered to herself, hoping to wake up and see the walls of her room in the accepted quarters. She would do anything to end this dream. The next thing would be her mother walking in and telling her to be quiet!

 

Bare feet padded around her room, inquisitive fingers touching objects she remembered from her childhood. Shadows and memory gave them a tortured aspect, as though at any minute they would flicker into flame and burn before her eyes. Her breath caught for a moment as she saw her reflection in her mirror; hairbrush and comb all she had had time to take before leaving sat on the dark wood of the dresser. She wasn’t a little girl in her dream, she was herself. The silk shift changed somehow to the banded dress she wore as an accepted before changing back to the night-dress. What was going on?

 

Flicker

 

She was on the landing, looking down the grand staircase into the hallway where a woman’s soft steps across marble floor, extinguishing a candle before withdrawing. Rossa descended, seized by a surety of mind that someone she knew was nearby. Onwards, into the darkness…

 

“Hello?”

 

Was that a swish of skirts turning to face her direction that Rossa thought she heard? It made her step quicken towards the source of the noise, one hand extended to try and attract the dream-shade’s attention. Mother would not be pleased if she saw her daughter in such a revealing item of clothing, walking through the halls of the house. Her appearance changed again to one of the demure blue dresses she had worn when she had been growing up and being presented at the Court of the Tarasin Palace, in Ebou Dar itself. The fabric felt so real it had to have been real. So, the logical part of Rossa asked, where was she? She continued forward into one of the large drawing rooms and stopped suddenly when she saw the figure she had been following sat calmly in a chair looking at her.

 

“Azzurra!”

 

Rossa flew across the room, so happy to see that her sister was still alive and apparently well, if slightly older. Rossa could see a little ways up her sister’s left sleeve and saw the horrific burn marks painting her like some macabre watercolour. It made her gasp involuntarily, but happiness over seeing her sister Azzurra again far outweighed the shock. “What happened? Mother? Father? Are they here too?”

 

Her heart broke anew as her sister explained what had happened. They had not known where Rossa was, and once their mother had found one of her daughters dead in her bed, she had given up her life searching for their children until the blaze overcame them. They had not known about the youngest, Azzurra, who had managed to hide and protect herself in a bathtub, and Rossa, who had stumbled blindly out of the front door believing everybody dead.

 

Light, now she knew she was dreaming! For the first time, Rossa’s gaze flickered to the walls and the furniture, and saw the ruination. Blackened walls and charred timbers lay everywhere, and the stench of ash and soot and death almost overpowering. This was the truth of House Venye, fallen in name and luck, and almost gone beyond all recognition. She could see the similarity with herself and it chilled her to the bone. Was this a dream or a nightmare? She was so confused! Her sister saw the expression on her face, added to the confusion by telling her something.

 

“You shouldn’t be here. I’m always here for you, but you shouldn’t be here.”

 

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

 

Her sister merely repeated what she had told her, gesturing around her and as she did, the room changed back from burnt wood to sumptuous wall hangings and velvets. Rossa did not know which was real. She backed away, wanting to check the walls to make sure of their real texture. The world spun overhead and Rossa threw out an arm to try and catch hold of the chair, only to have it grab burnt wood. She cried out in pain as splinters drove themselves in, and landed heavily on her rump looking up at the figure of Azzurra. She must have moved quickly, for she was holding her hand out right over Rossa to help her up. Impossibly quick… Snatching her hand away barely conscious of the bleeding palm, Rossa stood and studied the room again, noticing how it had changed back to the ruins she had thought it would be. Not even a single attempt at rebuilding had been made, as there was no one left to fund it.

 

Mind recoiling in confusion, Rossa turned and ran uncharacteristically back out into the porch, wanting to see for herself this impossible landscape she was somehow immersed in. Her sister would always be there for her. What good was reality when her family was here? If she could get back, Rossa vowed she would. Poised with one foot on the doorstep, a voice whirled from behind her.

 

“You would leave me, sister?”

 

It was enough to make Rossa pause in her tracks. A sense of duty washed over her as she recalled the banded dress long enough for her appearance to flicker back, the Great Serpent ring appearing on her finger slightly stained with the blood from her hand. “I’ve just found you, I would not leave you, sister.”

 

“So my older sister is an initiate of the White Tower. Mother will be pleased.”

 

“Mother?”

 

“I don’t want you to go, Rossa.”

 

“I’ll come back when I can.”

 

“I’ve been so lonely…”

 

“I’m always here for you.”

 

“No! You rarely think of us, of me, at all now.”

 

“I promise I’ll come back to you!”

 

“Remember your promise to your family, Rossa…”

 

The figure of her sister raced towards her, and Rossa did not know what to do. She stepped backwards, her hand catching painfully on the doorframe. Fleeing, Rossa ran until exhaustion claimed her again, running unthinkingly through an unfamiliar countryside strangely empty of life. It should be nighttime, shouldn’t it? Rational thoughts were not happening right now. She tripped, and closed her eyes bracing herself for the fall.

 

Her eyes flipped open in her bed in the accepted quarters, sunlight flying over her face. It had only seemed like a matter of minutes she had been home, yet it was definitely morning. The one thing Rossa knew was that she wanted to find out more about her dreams, on the quiet if she could for now, and go back to try and find out what her sister had meant. Or if she was going mad.

~Rossa~

 

It was some time before she could move. Her head pounded with a wave of nausea and a weak feeling in her arms made her think it would not be a good idea to get out of bed just yet. She lay there, thinking about the dream she had had the night just gone and it surprised her to feel pain in places other than her head. Her hand was stinging painfully and felt warm, and her heel was tender and felt red raw. What had happened to cause such pain? When her head stopped spinning, Rossa lifted her hand up to her eyes and saw a little gash in it, and bits of splintered wood stared back at her. She knew then that when she examined her heel, if her head would allow such a movement, there would be a scrape there too.

 

Have I been sleepwalking?

 

Her memory linked back to the dream, and the moment her sister had flown at her, causing Rossa to step backwards and catch the doorframe, and where she had nearly tumbled over where her heel had caught the step. The house had flickered between rubble and how she remembered it before the fire, but if she had splinters in her palm then it must mean… Her eyes closed, seeking the memory of the moment that charred timbers had replaced the stately ceiling beams. What was going on? Obviously, there was something happening here that she did not realise, or she would not have a scraped heel and a bloody hand. Rossa held her head gingerly with the uninjured hand and let the other one fall back to her blankets. The bell had rung; announcing the call to the dining hall, and the inevitable rush of white-clad bodies making their way to grab some hasty food before their lessons began. The mere thought of food was enough to make Rossa roll onto her side and retch over the side of her bed. Whatever was wrong with her, she was not getting out of bed until she felt better.

 

If someone came to find her though, they would see her splintered palm and they would wonder where she had been. What excuse could she give to explain away such a visible injury? She could hardly wear gloves all day. Wiping her mouth feebly, Rossa put the sickness down to a bug or sleeping too heavily, and rolled back onto her back to study the ceiling for a little longer. Someone would be coming to make sure she was awake soon.

 

Dark thoughts came into her mind as she considered the subjects of some of her other nights’ dreams. Large boats landing at some unknown shore, strange things happening in twisted landscapes and a large ruined city she felt she should know. All dismissed at the time as nightmares, or things fetched from an overactive imagination from books she had read for her studies of history. If the room stopped spinning for long enough, Rossa would try and get out of bed to talk about this with someone. No, better yet, she’d visit the library and look for books on it. Books were, at least, relatively unconcerned over whether a person’s night of sleep was disrupted, or believing they were seeing things.

 

She could meet her sister again though. Perhaps Azzurra would have more information about the place she lived in. Maybe it even meant that her sister was alive and well, trying to rebuild House Venye somewhere in Ebou Dar. Her head was swimming again, and the knock on the door was not welcome but there was nothing she could do about it. Rossa rose slowly and opened the door, and forced herself to begin her day.