It's almost like you're flying and you're too far gone to stop. You just rip and even as you're saying it you're protesting about the action. - Accepted Saline

Twas not easy being jealous of somebody dead. With her Tinker a few feet under the wrong side of the grass for the last decade, Saline Wastrel wanted to bite. It could have been the overcast, grey streaked sky that arched, silver fell in loose wisps of rain, fat droplets glistened where they splattered, beating the drum of the shed. Here she landed in this insignificent shack, frowning at the hay. In her Novice days, the isabella straw they brought for the other Taraboner's catapult building sessions smelt sweet, or perhaps it had been the smile on Syara's visage, beckoning to her, distracting her. A better scent, a time gone. Yes it could have been that the rain leaking in, wetting the hay, she supposed as she huddled, but she knew it was not. Nay, the elements did not annoyed her so much as she was simply angry, upset even, and very unhappy from this realisation. In this manner, harsh words was exchanged with the intent to wound. Having done the injury to some innocent, she felt no better than she was. Worse, the regret, call it remorse, call it conscience if one would ever admit to its power. For the past few days she ripped into her soul, observing it as an intruder. Its tongue worried constantly at the Accepted. Tell me about the feeling. Persistantly eroding her reserve, the desperate shield put up by the wrathful Accepted, and the dam innundated its system... She even mourned that as well.

 

Everytime she thought about it, heart hardened to that of a beast, jabbing talons to tear her up inside. It was an act performed by you. Saline approached the situation with her normal levity. That was to say, she cried a little. Perhaps a while longer. Pity swelled her heart, bringing on more droplets from her ducts. Then the tears stopped their adulation.

 

Drying her tears carefully that no treks was visible, she patted her handkerchief as she walked back to the Tower. The rain matted the curls flat like strings of honey mashed with scones. Her steps retraced the path to the Novice Quarters. She took them her feelings on a rampage, knocking on a random door. Grimly, dripping with the wet, she said.

 

"Come with me, lass. There's something I need help with."

Salandrian had finally managed to find a spare moment to herself in her room. The bloody Aes Sedai are always running me around, making me do one thing or another for them! Light, when will it stop? She threw herself on her bed and closed her eyes, covering them with her arm. Taking deep breaths, she slowly relaxed, breathing out her stress, breathing in calm.

 

She fell into a half-sleep, dreaming of a mop and soap bucket chasing her down the corridor, when suddenly she heard a sharp knock on her door. She rubbed her eyes as she groggily stood up and opened the door. Salandrian jumped back as a dripping wet Accepted stood there and said: "Come with me, lass. There's something I need help with."

 

Salandrian nodded, retrieved her cloak and followed the Accepted, who had already walked to the end of the corridor.

 

"What are we doing, Accepted?"

Rossa could picture it now. Accepted chopping vegetables to practice their Air weaves, Fire weaves used to heat the kettles… Oh yes, this was proving to be most useful.

- Accepted Rossa, on the Blue Ajah soup kitchen.

 

Dreams had a clever manner of becoming true. Born to create, dare to serve... To have the project in Estel Sedai's name was bold, incredibly so. Its maker stayed cool (though not for long, for great things were to follow) in the hemmed dress of an Accepted. In distributing to the poor, not charity (most folks would not accept charity but when they are useful) but a trade of needs, her friend had become almost regal; that inscrutable she was earning a great deal of respect from the Accepted as well as the Sisters - and rightfully so. It seemed to Saline that her friend might have had a clearer idea of what was Aes Sedai than most shawls did. "Go to the Mistress of the Kitchens girl, ask for the scraps alloted to Rossa's Blue Ajah project. She'll know what you are talking about. When you have procured the leftovers, you will meet me in front of the south novice entrance to the library."

 

While the girl scurried to her errand, Saline lingered in the library. Aha, exhaling in relief she tumbled upon the neat stacks of recipes Rossa had left her. Most of the material was researched already, selected for their affordibility, and she settled to peruse, pausing to cross out the expenditure on the Tower budget where olives were concerned. Mayene oils were out of the question. Quite.

 

Ducking her head, she stepped out the Novice doors and found the girl waiting. Peering into the basket of vegetables and some condiments the Novice strained to lift, she felt pleased as the amount exceeded expectations. It would suffice; a full meal to satisfy the body.

 

"Yes, well done." Gruffly, she commended walking toward the hall where the exit was, "what is your name, girl?"

 

The oiled cloak was a good notion, one she had not thought of and was in no mood to concede to this woeful oversight. Instead, out of the warmth of the Tower, she brought with the Novice rain and words that danced between them, unacknowledged. Realising she did not like the feel of the hemmed skirts sopping against her skin, making her curves defined, more prominant in the cold, Saline tutted in frustration. It was too conspicuous, and she would rather shirk from it.

"Go to the Mistress of the Kitchens girl, ask for the scraps alloted to Rossa's Blue Ajah project. She'll know what you are talking about. When you have procured the leftovers, you will meet me in front of the south novice entrance to the library."

 

Salandrian nodded her head and briskly walked to the kitchens, brooding over the unfairness of it all. Why did she have to get up and help with this bloody Accepted's project?! Shouldn't the Accepted be doing this? Grumbling to herself, she hardly realized that she had reached the kitchens. After talkin to the Mistress of the Kitchens, she was given a very full basket of vegetables and condiments.

 

Salandrian returned where the Accepted had been waiting and moved to give the basket to her, but the Accepted turned and walked toward the exit.

 

"Yes, well done. What is your name, girl?"

 

"I am...Salandrian...Faerhind," she puffed between breaths. "From... Ebou Dar... Who... are you? Phew!" She leaned against a column for a brief rest. What was she, a mule?

The Novice had to catch her breath, so she halted too. "I am Saline, an Accepted here." Past noble names were not important, and she doubt she would be rewarded for having one. She twisted her ring, and sighed. She did not know how to get close to people. Realising brandishing the Great Serpant was hardly the way in winning the girl over, and the Light forbid she become another Gaiya, she sought to be better composed as she spoke.

 

"This is a soup kitchen set up a group of us are doing with permission from Estel Sedai. In a while, we will start to build the fire. Have you any experience with stacking firewood, or do you need a refresher?"

 

"The thickest goes on the bottom where the duration would be longest," she said, handing the Novice some oak logs which she strained under, "the more slender cut pines go on top to catch the flint. Never use green willows, as they tend to smoke." She cracked a smile at that.

 

They stopped as she channelled. A simple fire thread. "The fans should not be full blown at first, half would do as the fire was vulnerable to the wind. The challenge is therefore to keep the fire going. Keep fanning." She instructed as she dragged over a chair for the Novice. "Be vigilant, Salandrian Faerhind of Ebou Dar."

 

Ebou Dar... A strange faraway land she never glimpsed. The Tower was her home for more than a decade now, and from a good place inside she hoped that the Novice would find it so as well.

Finally, the Accepted told Salandrian what they were doing! Knowing that it was a soup kitchen to help the poor gave her a reason to work harder. The way things had been progressing seemed like one of the story books that she had read in Ebou Dar.

 

"Have you any experience with stacking firewood, or do you need a refresher?" Salandrian nodded, then was surprised when the Accepted Saline continued with her explination.

 

"The thickest goes on the bottom where the duration would be longest," she said, handing Salandrian some oak logs which she could barely hold up, "The more slender cut pines go on top to catch the flint. Never use green willows, as they tend to smoke."

 

Salandrian put the wood in the order that Saline had just redundantly told her. She watched in amazement as the Accepted wove the smallest bit of Fire into the wood and it caught on fire. As Saline was explaining how to tend the fire, Salandrian did her best to control her frustration at being told something she already knew how to do. But she knew snapping at an Accepted was not going to put her anywhere except in the Mistress of Novices office.

 

"Be vigilant, Salandrian Faerhind of Ebou Dar." Saline seemed to be warning her of something, but Salandrian couldn't understand what. She shrugged in acceptance, then leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and gently fanned the fire until the logs caught flame.

 

"If you don't mind my asking, Accepted, which Ajah are you aspiring to? I really have no idea which I would choose." Salandrian looked over her shoulder at Saline, hoping that she was not being to personal.

It amused her (to no avail) that the girl from Ebou Dar would be thinking about aspirations now. There was plenty of time to plan for the future; Saline did not think about the Red Ajah until in her sixth year in the Tower, if that. She could not help but to chuckle at the hopeful Novices. Ambition would lead them far. It reminded her of a cautionary tale she had read about once which stuck of wisdom, as it simply stated: be careful what you think, for your thoughts shape your life. Perhaps the girl had the right of it after all, as a woman without good judgment and a sense of drive would turn out fairly useless in the practical world. "Lass," she pondered for a moment then started afresh, "Salandrian, tell me - how are you finding your days here? Which ajah is your Mentor of? What do you like to do?"

 

The sun slanted in reminding her of the time, and she was glad they did not have to harvest the organic scraps from the farm that supplied the Tower kitchens. They could unwind and converse in the cottage, a place she would learn about service and commitment, from the closed circuit of the self to reach out to the sphere of sensuous awareness, and much, much more wisdom. There was no deflecting, never would be as she couldn't escape from herself, but to to confront her experiences would share some knowledge, perhaps, with the others.

 

Saline smiled at the Novice. "My Mentor was Perine Sedai of the Red Ajah. She influenced my decision on what I aspired to. I felt her thinking made sense to be, and want to make the world a better place."

 

She wanted to know, Saline assured herself.

Salandrian was surprised to learn that Saline was aspiring to the Red Ajah. From what she had heard of the novice gossip, Reds were the worst of the Ajahs. They hated men, were esoteric and sultry, haughty and angry. But Saline seemed like none of these. Hmmm... Salandrian mused for a while, then suddenly realized that she had been asked a question.

 

"Oh... sorry Accepted!" Salandrian blushed then under her breath reminded herself of the questions. "I do like it here, though there seem to be some girls who don't understand anything. And I feel very looked down upon, at least by most Aes Sedai. Though my mentor is kind. Her name is Eqwina Sedai, and she's from the Yellow Ajah." She contorted her face, hoping somehow she could remember the last question. "Oh! And what do I like to do?!" Salandrian grimmaced as she realized she had nearly yelled. "Well, I like learning. Hm. And solving problems. I also like helping people, though I feel that I've never really had a chance to."

Laughing she was glad that the Novice started talking. It was refreshing not to have to deal with a difficult girl, like some others she left unnamed. “No worries,” she said “you remind me of one of my roommates. She is a Yellow aspirant, and often helps the Novices out, as well as the Aes Sedai rolling bandages in the infirmary. Perhaps we’ll stop by there to say hello, another day.” Though the girl looked nothing like Rosetta physically, the resemblance in their speech succeeded in lending a powerful impression on Saline. She remembered Accepted Eqwina when she was in her second year as a Novice, another Yellow aspirant. There were some tales about Eqwina, Throm and another trainee – Nevin, she thought his name was -- though she had more issues about Throm since he upset poor Zayna in Elyssa Sedai’s basic etiquette class…

 

Pulling herself away from the memories that threatened to overwhelm Saline felt more composed, even somewhat cheerful as she assumed a bright litany. “Chop the carrots with strands of Air. I presume Eqwina Sedai has already introduced you to Saidar; don’t worry about control yet, as I gave you permission I am your supervisor. Normally, the Power isn’t permitted to perform chores, but” thinking about their weeding in the garden for Vera Sedai, “much can be explained away by opportunities for more practice, so we both benefit from this exercise.” She had considered doing this by hand, but Saidar would be faster, and less risky to the fingers. The girl might have wanted to heal, but probably not desirous of being on the receiving end of the process. Despite that a good Accepted takes the chop for what happens, she did not feel not dealing with an injury here. Not now; not ever.

 

She instructed the girl to slice evenly, beaming deliberately, smouldering in the heat of her determination.

Any feeling of apprihension had left Salandrian. She was feeling comfortable talking to Saline and was happy that her superior was not treating her like a child. “No worries,” Saline said “You remind me of one of my roommates. She is a Yellow aspirant, and often helps the Novices out, as well as the Aes Sedai rolling bandages in the infirmary. Perhaps we’ll stop by there to say hello, another day.” It would be good, Salandrian thought, to visit an Accepted aspirant of every Ajah to know what it's like.

 

Suddenly getting back to reality, Saline instructed Salandrian: “Chop the carrots with strands of Air. I presume Eqwina Sedai has already introduced you to saidar; don’t worry about control yet, as I gave you permission I am your supervisor. Normally, the Power isn’t permitted to perform chores, but much can be explained away by opportunities for more practice, so we both benefit from this exercise.” Salandrian bit her lip and took a deep breath. She had been taught how to use saidar but did not feel confident in her ability. But hearing that it was just practice made her feel slightly less nervous. Smiling at her, Saline intructed her to slice evenly with Air.

 

Closing her eyes, she thought of her flower, a lilac, and imagined it opening. She held on to it for a few seconds and managed to chop the end of a carrot off before she had to let go. Salandrian took a deep breath and began again, this time, trying to imagine the river. She found that she could hold this a little better, and after a few tries, she had managed to slice a whole carrot, if somewhat unevenly. She ground her teeth at herself, frusturated that it had taken her so long to preform this simple task. But she continued, after looking at Saline, who was watching her. To Salandrian it seemed like days before she had finished slicing the carrots.

Enough carrots were chopped for the first batch. It had taken longer time than she had wagered but she was impressed with the finesse of the work. At first Salandrian seemed dubious but as she wielded the flows longer she grew less hesitant, and things proceeded a long faster. While the Novice bent a fair head over her carrots, Saline kept an eye on the fire as she stoked it. She had procured a curvacious pot likely to feed half a dozen, which had its good and bad points, the good being that they did not have to cook as many times, the bad being if they messed up a part of it, the entire stew was ruined for a serving, and wouldn't it be such a pitiful waste due to incompetence? Brushing the pile of carrots aside she was determined not to be incompetent as she laid a hand on the girl's shoulder, and steered her to where the pot was. It squatted, dusty and needing a hard scrubbing. Leaving the girl sanding away (and she might as well get use to it in the kitchen later on, good practice if you asked Saline) the Accepted swept to where the chickens were and despaired. She had laid weaves on them after the painstaking plucking. The keeping had kept, though when she first learned it in Intermediate she would have been bemused if she knew the application for it now, and she removed the weave with a few practiced motions, as did the freeze so that the meat would unthaw in the moist humidity that near sufficated her this morning. No, it was not the beraggled fowls that gave her worries, for she genuinely despaired that they were in good condition, prime even. She was anxious that the next few steps would be done precisely so to produce the delicious brew that would rival the skilled, and experienced cooks in the kitchens, and there in quick succession she marinated the chicken with spices, then hacked them into succulent bite sizes, and was still peeling the taters when the novice returned the pot. Just in time to help Saline finish up the last of the roots.

 

After a demonstration with boiling the water, she stepped down from her post next to the pot, letting the Novice stir counterclosewise with Air, which bubbled and moved the soup like a mini-whirlpool as she frantically checked the recipes for any missing steps, such as a few sprigs of this or that. She eased the chickens in. The potatoes went after that, as they took longest to cook, and would thicken the soup. Sniffing, she was too hassled to be fair when judging whether it smelt good.

As Salandrian finished chopping the carrots, Saline walked away and got a dusty old cauldron. After bringing Salandrian to it, she gently explained to her how to wash it. She did this without complaining, as she was used to washing pot's dirtier and greasier than this in her aunt's inn in Ebou Dar. This was an old dish though, and was still somewhat rusty, which made the rinsing process a bit more troublesome.

 

Saline brought over chicken, and added it to the pot, along with the carrots and potatoes. Managing to use saidar better, Salandrian used Air to stir the stew. And though Saline appeared almost frantic about the smell, Salandrian thought it smelled wonderful.

 

"When will people begin to arrive?" Salandrian's question had been stewing for some time. "Oh, and you mentioned another Accepted earlier. Will she be joining us?"

A golden simmer was the product of an afternoon's work. The other had been a great help in reassuring Saline and removing the doubts which overtook her every fives minutes or so. "No, no," She put out the ladle and the kettle. "Accepted Rossa will not be along until later in the evening."

 

She stopped the oil from congealing by laying a weave on it to alternately heat the whenever it cooled to a set temperature. Turning to the Novice she finally stopped frowning. Reaching into her pocket she gave Salandrian a sweet, smiling all the while.

 

Smiling seemed daring but she felt adventurous enough to venture one: "You may go now, Salandrian. Thank you for your help, and rest well. You have channelled to-day on top of your classes, and I am sure you must be exhausted. Because of this soup a great deal of people will be fed to-night." She paused then added. "I hope to see you again."

"You may go now, Salandrian. Thank you for your help, and rest well." Salandrian smiled at her hopefully new friend. "You have channelled to-day on top of your classes, and I am sure you must be exhausted. Because of this soup a great deal of people will be fed to-night." She felt a slight warming in her heart at that. "I hope to see you again."

 

"Accepted Saline, I have a feeling that our paths will cross soon. Thank you for treating me kindly, and for helping me think more deeply about my Ajah." She bowed her head and walked away, smiling. Whatever the other girls had had as chores, this hadn't seemed horrible in the least.

 

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OoC: THANK YOU Lih-Lyh