He was ready. Ginae’s words resonated in his mind as he turned around as smartly as he could, and made his way out. It had been midway through a spar with a friend that a younger youth had approached him, saying the Mistress of Trainees wanted him. Nerome had wondered, with some level of irritation what mess he could have possibly be pulled into this time, especially considering he himself had been under the impression that his reputation of late, was quite spotless. Truth was, he had laboured hard these past few weeks, spending most of his time practicing forms or greeting the occasional spar with another. All because of a promise made, that he promised to himself he would keep. All for the concluding aim of every Trainee: to join the Tower Guard, and someday, make it to Warder.

 

He was ready. Pride surged in Nerome, bringing with it steady satisfaction. It had been three years ago that he had ventured into the Yard, cocky and insignificant. Now, he was to be Raised and become, at the very least, a little less insignificant. And then, there was Rossa. An image floated into Nerome’s thoughts- a young woman of the banded dress, smiling at him as she made to say his name. Yes, there was her, his promised Aes Sedai. He missed talking to her- in the hope to further their studies and get promoted, the two had seen little of each other. He wondered how she was, the pang growing in nature as he continued to think about her. Was she Aes Sedai as yet? Eyes flickering around the various faces in the yard, he hoped Saline would venture to the yards for training soon. She was their means of communication of late, the carrier of hurried and cautiously written notes that Nerome was slowly growing fond of. He wished with some force that her next appearance would be soon, for he had important news to impart. Perhaps even have important news to receive? The prospect thrilled Nerome.

 

He was ready. Again her words echoed, along with the steady gaze and the satisfied nod that the Mistress of Trainees had been. Ginae had continued on to explain that he would have an oath ceremony soon, revealing in detail the requirements he needed to fulfill in order to be prepared for the coming day. It required no second thought for him to understand that these tasks were his priorities for now. So, after what felt like a long enough aimless walk while he pondered, Nerome left behind the want to celebrate and coursed his way back to the conversation he had come grinning broadly from. She had said that he would need a Tower Guard to represent him at the ceremony, one who would stand up for him when he was questioned. Quickly, Nerome began to list all the Tower guards he was acquainted with. Like the pages from a book, faces presented themselves to him, each growing more detailed as he considered the person in question. It took little mulling over though. With a laugh, Nerome began to look for his mentor.

 

He was ready. He wondered what she would say when he told her this, that he, the mentee who she had had to push the most was now on the verge of being Raised? Would she laugh and then tell him to go dream elsewhere? Or maybe she would, in that unusual manner of hers, take his word and nod. She would accept, of course? The doubt lingered in his mind as he made his way to his mentor’s usual haunt: the practice grounds. After all, he hadn’t seen her much in the past month- she still checked up on him of course, but Nerome’s main training required perseverance, rather than a teacher. The thought brought a sudden flash of anxiety into his veins, making him clench his fists as he often did at such times. Light, would she doubt the decision to raise him?

 

I am ready. He told himself once more, just as he spotted her in the distance. It seemed that she had just begun training, for she was running laps. This was welcome news- he had learnt over the years that his mentor preferred not to be interrupted midway, especially by rogue trainees, he thought with a grin. Standing straight, he was surprised by the sudden burst of pleasure that he felt. His mentor would be proud, he reckoned. Waiting as she finished another lap, and spotted him, Nerome began to smile. Rosheen was likely to call him a grinning halfwit when she approached him, but he reckoned she would be proud anyway.

 

 

~Nerome Seshir

 

Ever since she was young, Rosheen had found comfort in the steady sound of her own boots on the ground as she ran. The steady thump reminded her of a heartbeat, one so similar that if she focussed, she could almost see the person it belonged to. The face changed from time to time, matching her pace and her demeanour. It was almost better than the spring, this immersion in memories. She never felt the burn in her legs, or the ache in her sides. Numb to the world, and yet not.

 

Today she found herself looking at her fathers face. It had been over a year since she had last seen him. A year, and it might as well have been yesterday. He looked older than he had when she was just a little trainee, but the warm confidence in his eyes was always the same. Faith. Always filled with faith. There were only few faces in the world that offered her as much reassurance as this particular one. As she finished another lap, she could almost feel her father smile, and whisper the same words he had whispered years ago, when she left the caravan to become a warrior. “Go on, little girl. Go on and live your dream.”

 

“Forward the rainbow banner.” She whispered to herself, grinning widely. Mid-grin and mid-stride she noticed her eldest mentee on the other side of the path. He looked… odd. Grinning like an idiot, but she had gotten used to that expression on him by now. Still, there was more. An eagerness she recognised from when she had been so much younger, looking in the mirror and telling herself that she would be the greatest warrior the world had ever seen. She slowed her pace, ending up right in front of Nerome.

 

For a moment she merely stared at him. It was a trick she had learnt from Brand. If someone had something to tell you, or something to confess, the only thing you had to do was give them the time to do so. Nerome looked nervous, and Rosheen couldn’t help but wonder what he’d gotten himself into now. He had been focussed on his training a lot lately, but the boy had a history with mischief. She still remembered his first week at the yards, when she’d caught him loitering in Tar Valon, chatting up an Aes Sedai.

 

“Well?”

 

~Rosheen Tahn Sakhr

Grand master

Proud mentor to Nerome.

“Well?

 

When Rosheen Tahn Sakhr felt it necessary to give Nerome one of her stares, it was natural human tendency that caused him to set his shoulders as straight as possible, to make sure he didn’t blink while he returned her stare evenly. He did exactly so this time as well, but within a few moments of considering her impatient question, Nerome’s grin broke into a short laugh. She, like him, expected that he had come to notify her of yet another jinxed day of misdoing. A tempted second let him wonder idly what Rosheen would do to him if he told her he had been asked to leave the Yard, but the second after, he knew it would be better to keep his mouth tightly shut down about such possibilities. Foolish though it might seem to some, Nerome had come to believe a phrase his mother used quite repeatedly: Think of trouble, and it comes seeking you out in an instant.

 

Instead, he chose the relatively less harmful trail. Looking at the ground at first, as if embarrassed he spoke. “I was summoned by Ginae today…” he said with solemnly, letting his words trail as he willed her to jump to conclusions. It was sad in some ways, what people perceived him to be. At other times though, at times like this, the trashed reputation was well worth it. Shifting his focus from the dust laden ground to Rosheen, he stared right back at her as straight faced as possible. “I’m going to be promoted.” He stated it calmly, but as he continued on to explain the day’s events, the grin lurking beneath resurfaced. “She told me that I would need two to represent me before the Commander,” he continued less nervous- she didn’t seem to be taking the news the wrong way. “One an Aes Sedai- which Aes Sedai would represent me I’ve no idea, but the other as you know is a Tower Guard.” Focussing on her eyes, he paused to find her face had lost its apprehension from before. That was a good sign. “Basically I was wondering if you as my mentor would be willing to be there at my Tower Guard ceremony?” Again his heart felt a spark of uncertainty, but he silenced it by finishing with a question. “What do you think?”

 

~Nerome Seshir

Proud trouble maker and mentee to Rosheen Tahn Sakhar

 

As the worlds tumbled from Nerome’s mouth, Rosheen began to expect that her earlier suspicions were correct. The boy had done something to irk the mistress of trainees again, which probably meant that he’d be spending another month mucking out the stables. She almost rolled her eyes at the thought. Really, Ginae needed to lighten up. Couldn’t she see that Nerome was close now? Light, even she could see it. It was in the way he walked, the way he carried himself. Everything about his manner told the onlooker about a confidence that could only come from the ability to handle oneself. Though his short stature might deceive some, Rosheen knew that her mentee could defend himself and others well enough.

 

So close, and yet Ginae seemed determined… Why was he grinning? Without conscious thought Rosheen raised an eyebrow at her mentee, a sign that generally meant she was eager to hear more of his thoughts. So he had spoken to Ginae… Could it be that the Kandori warrior saw the same things in the young man in front of her that Rosheen saw?

 

A small smile curved her lips as Nerome rambled on about getting promoted and needing an Aes Sedai and a Tower Guard to represent him. Finally. Nerome had been a challenging mentee, requiring almost the same amount of attention as two of Lyv’s mentees at the same time. And yet he had always had the potential to become a Tower Guard. He was patient and dedicated, fast and flexible, and he had a decent head on his shoulders, which helped.

 

“Well” she said, still smiling. “Wel, well… At last, I’m no longer the only one to see your potential.” A brief grin flashed on her face, before her looks turned serious. “It is a great responsibility you’re about to accept, Nerome. One that you weren’t ready for a month ago. I believe that you are now, and that is why I’m delighted to be there for your ceremony. It would be fitting, right? That you should be accepted into the ranks of the Tower Guard by your harshest critic?” she winked and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

 

Her mentee had grown up a lot in the past few months. When had that happened? One moment he had still been a clumsy boy, filled with mischief and questionable intentions, and the next he was standing in front of her as a man. A man with a purpose. “You’ll do well enough.” She said, ruffling his hair. “And I’m sure you’ll find a proper Aes Sedai to sponsor you as well. Don’t be mistaken, they always know when one of us is about to get promoted. It’s like they can smell it on us.”

 

~Rosheen Tahn Sakhr

Grand master

 

Oh, he was relieved.

 

Well, maybe not relieved exactly, but Rosheen’s easy acceptance of his promotion, with a touch of humour and unhidden approval made him feel a lot more prepared. His once solemn gaze, was swept away by a grin as she ruffled his hair. He might be joining her ranks someday not so far, but Rosheen would always be his mentor at heart. “Thank you, that makes me feel a little better about approaching them, considering almost every one that I’ve met till now has a tendency to tie me up in bonds of Air and make me well…stay there. Wouldn’t that be taking advantage of the Power or something, anyway?” His eyes glimmered with humour for a few seconds, but a spur of the moment whim caused his face to adopt the earlier somberness once more.

 

“Rosheen, thanks. I don’t think there’s a single person in the Yard with a better mentor. The noble in me wants to bow, but I’ll stick with the thief and just keep beaming.”

 

There. He’d said his bit, and followed etiquette to it’s final steps. However, his was a message that came from his heart. He doubted any but Rosheen would’ve been able to handle him, the way he had been when he had first enrolled. He continued on to tell her that his ceremony would be held tomorrow, and once done, made to move away. As he turned, memories that had been itching to come by as they waited impatiently on the backburner, flashed and flickered one by one. This day would join them too.

 

~Nerome

Proud mentee to Rosheen

 

OOC: Go ahead and reply if you want Brenda, wasn't sure what else there was to it. :) Now to find Sirayn. Or well, wait until she returns from Euromeet. :D

Only once or twice since Seiaman’s death had she visited the Warders’ Yard. It held too many memories for her, not to mention too many murderous Tower Guards, and every time she ventured into the dusty yards she ended up having to defend herself in some way so she never went there if she could help it. Unfortunately being a mentor carried responsibilities along with the right to take all the credit for her mentee’s successes and therefore, despite her urgent dislike of the red cloak and everything it stood for, she had reluctantly abandoned her good hard work to go there.

 

She’d heard it was customary for people to watch the Tower Guards at their practice, perhaps they gained some pleasure from making fools of themselves gawping, but personally she found all the sweat and grunting and naked flesh repulsive. Sirayn spared them a passing glance of distaste as she made her way through sparring couples but nobody came near her so she left them well alone. Her target, a boy she had some passing acquaintance with, was one Nerome Seshir -- a young Cairhienin, unnaturally tall by the standards of their people, and not unskilled if she remembered her Basic Etiquette class correctly.

 

It was quite immaterial anyway. She did not know the boy well enough to judge him … but she trusted Rossa to choose her own Warder, if with nothing more important at the moment, and she’d heard the boy’s mentor thought high enough of him. And it did not do for young Aes Sedai barely into their shawl to get bonded without their mentor’s involvement at all.

 

She cut a sharp right, crossed behind two duellists and planted herself squarely in the boy’s path, fixing him with a stern stare. “Good day, young man, and wherever you’re going, shelve it.”

 

To say her entrance was a grand one, was putting it mildly. Quite akin to Dorian his friend, saying some years back after being beaten to fleshy pulp, that he was simply under the weather. Oh yes. The arrival of the Amyrlin Seat, swathed in all the daunting glory of the White Tower, made Nerome’s eyes desire popping out of his skull. True enough, he had marched to Rosheen with all the confidence that bore him a winner in life, and true again that he had matured, but this…this was delicate. Sirayn Simeone, Watcher of the Seals, Flame of Tar Valon, had appeared faster than the blink of an eye and was telling him to ‘shelve’ it.  Unexpected at the least, and so articulate too. “Certainly, Mother.” Bowing deeply, his mind raced to the possibilities that could’ve called him to her attention.

 

It was likely that it was a mere errand of course; her eyes must’ve pulled out his singularly assured stride, and found it fetching enough to be set chore to. The last time an Aes Sedai had come beckoning, it had taken all of Rosheen’s courtesy to have him walking away with only coloured cheeks, and very sore thoughts. That was not going to happen again, he decided firmly. Not only was the petite fellow Cairhienin beside him one of the most important women in the standing world, but she was Rossa’s mentor. His thoughts sharpened on that focal point, ignoring the dreamy, wondrous smiles that aimed to touch his lips, and zoomed onto the likelihood that the visit could be related to Rossa. That sobered him down quickly enough. Rising as smoothly as his lessons as a noble would enable him to, Nerome looked upon the sight that had shocked the living wits out of him with calm. “Of what service can I be to you, Mother?”

 

Of what service? Somebody had taught the young man never to end a sentence with a preposition! She rather liked the standard retort to that line as well, by some now-nameless humourist, but she did not make a practice of arguing with grammatical accuracy herself. “I intend to honour you with about two minutes of my time, young man, and should it have to become three minutes I will be most displeased.” Tapping one fingertip thoughtfully against her lips she circled the Seshir boy, looking him up and down, examining him from all angles. Too tall for a Cairhienin but too short for a Tower Guard, he was fair enough she supposed, but scarcely to her taste; perhaps her mentee had a particular liking for his colouring or some such or -- a disturbing thought -- Cairhienin in general.

 

“A little on the short side,” was her final verdict. She had almost thought better of that comment at the last moment but coming from her she hoped there was no way it could be interpreted as anything other than irony. “But I suppose you’ll do. I hear somebody decided you were ready for a red cloak, young man … and, by implication, ready for a certain young lady.” She had never wanted to bond Seiaman. Once they had bonded she had spent most waking moments figuring out how to get rid of the damn woman. Yet after so much time without it she craved that bond with a stupid intensity. She oughtn’t even to think of it; that time was over, it was never coming back, and little Rossa had to make her own mistakes. “Who have you asked to stand for you at your Tower Guard ceremony?”

 

Sirayn and Nerome

Life was ticking by with painful slowness. His skin prickled as she surveyed him, grey eyes taking in every little detail with thoroughness that made him want to run his fingers through ruthless black hair and settle it down, or perhaps wipe the sweat from his brow clean. On the other hand, the way the Amyrlin’s knowledge concerning him was speeding its way to him alarmingly fast. It wasn’t a surprise to him that she knew so much- as the Amyrlin Seat, he had no doubts in the depths that her power reached till, or the access this gave her. No, the real cause for his befuddlement had entirely to do with the popular dimension of why.

 

Why him, out of all the Trainees? Or did she keep a close eye on all of them? Reasons beyond the fact that the Trainees were far too large a number for anyone to keep watch on -excluding Ginae of course- made him realize this was impossible. If she really had been following his path as a Trainee with care, then she hadn’t mentioned all the follies he had made, his well deserved character that had been carved out in the earlier days of his life at the Tower. This seemed to be a more recent development…

 

Then he got it, minutes before she mentioned Rossa. She was here to judge him. He hid it carefully, the freshly dawned understanding, and stayed as straight as he could as she spoke. The Amyrlin had come to see if her mentee was really worth Rossa, worth the position of Warder to her. Without realizing it, he stood up a little straighter. One word of caution from the woman before him meant irrepairable damage would come swiftly. And that, due to a promise made with such fervour, was not in the picture.

 

However, puzzling out her grounds for company did not deter him for being blown away yet again as she questioned him about his ceremony. He blinked only once, and responded. “I have asked my Mentor Rosheen Tahn Sakhr to attend as the Tower Guard, Mother. As for the Aes Sedai, I’m still in the process of finding someone willing to attend.”

 

Should a straw poll ever be called Sirayn would be the first to confess that she no longer knew the first thing about bonding or other people in general. She preferred to keep her contact with them strictly limited to the occasional conversation, ideally comprised of orders from her side and obedience from theirs, which while entirely suitable for Aes Sedai life perhaps did not expose her to the broadest possible range of human relationships. So, although she was keen to satisfy herself that the Seshir boy would make a fitting Warder for her mentee, she actually didn’t have a clue how.

 

No doubt Rossa had a fuller appreciation of his character -- she just didn’t know if children so young had the capacity to make decisions like this. Her daughter had been so suicidally irresponsible that she winced to think of letting somebody else’s children loose on an unsuspecting world. She wasn’t ever going to know the boy, not like Rossa did, so she ought to just leave well enough alone … but she couldn’t quite convince herself. She bit her tongue on a barrage of questions: who was he, where was he from, how had he come here, what did he intend for her mentee, he had better promise that no harm would ever come to her …

 

Really the only way she could judge him was by the quality of people he surrounded himself with. Admittedly this was a meter which had failed spectacularly in the past; she needed only remember Aran and shudder inside. She hadn’t been particularly impressed with Rosheen Tahn Sahkr the first time they met -- being asked what had happened to her hand as if she were some sort of freak show for everyone to point and ask questions had deterred her no end -- and knowing the woman was a friend of Aran’s suggested to her that the Grand Master was a Darkfriend sympathiser of some sort. So being endorsed by the woman did not earn Nerome Seshir any points in her eyes.

 

None of this was reassuring her whatsoever. She looked the boy up and down coldly. “I hope you know that if anything happens to the young lady you will answer to me personally.”

 

At first he had felt all the expected offence that such a warning dealt out, but soon he relaxed his hackles and smiled. "And if you weren't the Amyrlin Seat, and Aes Sedai, I would offer you the same warning, Mother." As the words fell from his mouth he didn't feel the fear he had been prone to upon first understanding what Sirayn Simeone was doing beside him, and instead found himself sure footed. Looking back at her steadily, a thought struck him amidst the easy peace he had settled with. There were only two reasons that had brought them here- one was personal, a matter of care and concern for another person. The second was the binding every member of the Guard felt, in the same manner that every Aes Sedai did- the Tower. He winced mentally as he realized it, for it was not so many months ago surely, that he had sworn he was here primarily to learn and then...move on?

 

Just as he was about to comfort himself, perhaps a little soothing reflection on changing times, he noted hastily that Sirayn had resumed talking. Shifting his attention many miles back, he gaped just a little as he heard her finishing words.

 

The Amyrlin Seat, Watcher of the Seals, Flame of Tar Valon and some more equally mind boggling titles, had just volunteered herself to be the Aes Sedai at his ceremony. Clamping his mouth shut hard, he did the only thing people such as him could do. It was something an elder cousin had taught him, someone Selandre had hoped would polish Nerome's manners so well, that even at the greatest fear of stupidity, Nerome would do as hammered habit would make him.

 

A deep bow, and then a rise. "I am honoured, Mother."

 

Sirayn and Nerome

With a sigh Brand Ryota shrugged on a simple white shirt. Really, whoever said that it was proper to present yourself in full attire at a Tower Guard ceremony should be stabbed in the foot. If you asked Brand it was too hot for clothing in general, at the moment, let alone for the white shirt and the fancy red coat that named him Commander of the Guard. Of course it was proper in this particular occasion. How Nerome got the attention of the Amyrlin Seat was beyond Brand, but he supposed that it meant that he had to show up looking as shiny and respectable as possible. With another sigh he shrugged on the heavy coat. Such was life, when you were the Commander. Filled with responsibilities and trials, ceremonies and duties. Shirts and coats.

 

“Right then.” He muttered to himself, stepping out of his office and into the glaring sunlight. “Let’s make that boy into a Tower Guard.” The Glade of Remembrance was empty still, save for Rosheen Tahn Sakhr, who already stood on her side of the but stone slab. Brand nodded his head in greeting, taking his own place next to her, facing the place where Nerome would kneel soon enough. “so, you really think the boy is ready?” he asked the mohawked warrior at his side. “Took his sweet time, didn’t he?” He didn’t have to look at her to see she was rolling her eyes. “All is well though. I’d rather see you take your time with him than provide me with a useless Tower Guard.”

 

“Speaking of which…” he said, seeing a small figure walk up to where they were standing. “Now that would have been a useless Tower Guard. But I suppose she’ll do alright as Amyrlin. I mean, she’s no Lanfir Leah, but from what I’ve heard she’s a pretty decent strategist at least.” Getting nothing from Rosheen, he merely waited for her to step up to the Glade. “Good morning, Mother.” He said, bowing respectfully. Rosheen followed his example, and Sirayn… merely nodded slightly and stayed silent. “Well, aren’t we all cheerful today?” Brand muttered.

 

Fortunately the uncomfortable silence only lasted a few moments. Nerome had apparently been waiting around the corner, for he appeared moments after Sirayn took her place. “At least you’ve managed to beat some punctuality into his head.” Brand said. Rosheen shrugged again. “Let’s hope I managed to beat some common sense into it as well.” Brand smiled again. “Oh, I’m sure you have. He’ll do fine.” And that was about as big a compliment as Brand would ever make to any mentor or trainee. Rosheen nodded her head again, smiling slightly as she watched her trainee walking up the glade. Oh yes, Nerome Seshir would do fine.

 

~Brand Ryota

Commander of the Guard

 

Ooc: Feel free to npc Rosheen, Sirayn and Brand through the ceremony: http://www.aliciawilkerson.com/warders/?page_id=22

 

The Glade of Remembrance. Heard of, seen from afar, but a place he had never explored till now. Slanting rays of midday sun shone, beating down heavily on the slab only a few paces away, glinting off the stone onto faces surrounding so that their faces were canvases of interlacing light and shadow, watching him as he stepped closer. He had been awake well before dawn, stirred from sleep from impatience that he had known would be there in him even as he had let his mind rest the night before. As he had closed the buttons on the white shirt the odd thought that he would never wear this uniform again loomed, and he felt pride surge and then become something wholly else. Nerome Seshir as he had paced down the sun kissed avenues of Tar Valon, the outward edges of the Yard, of his room and the vastness of the Tower gateways, had let his mind roam with him. Now that he was here, the ability to reflect and ponder was left behind, tucked away in a loop that would not be uncovered soon. The Spring was with him, even though he didn’t require its uses, it added to the peace.

 

Now, he had focus. The faces that had been shimmers, an exploration of sunlight solidified into reality as he stepped closer. Rosheen, Brand Ryota and the Amyrlin made for odd company to say the least. He was almost relieved that this was a ceremony, and small talk and pleasantries were not something either Tower Guards or Sirayn Sedai deemed necessary. Expectancy was written over their faces in between the creases and ageless cheeks alike, and Nerome believed that each one of them was almost…greeting them, in their own half-smile manner. It was good to have Rosheen there, which Nerome had not anticipated. She, in her mohawked, silently instructing force was something entirely normal for Nerome, unlike the presence of Brand Ryota or Sirayn Simeone. Kneeling as he stepped into the circle, he embraced the warmth of the sun gratefully.

“I come here unarmed, offering to give myself to the defence

of those who serve all.”

 

He spoke clearly, letting his voice ring through, past the stone, into every nearby listener’s ears, onto the blades of grass that tickled his skin so much. He was aware, aware of the silence and the breathing of the three others. He knew it then; change had come to stay. Eyes fixed on a spot of light on the slab, he waited for the ceremony to continue.

 

“Who would speak for you?”

 

“I would speak for him, he is fit.” Rosheen, voice carrying out loudly as she stepped forward. This had played out several times in his mind, but reality somehow made it far richer. Reality, brought emotion.

“Who would trust you?”

 

“I would trust him.” The Cairhienin accent was all but gone from the Amyrlin Seat’s voice, and in one peculiar moment of wonder, Nerome questioned his future. Would he lose his clipped, nationality marking enunciation himself, as time rolled on?

“Who would accept you?”

 

“I would.”

“Who would witness your oath whose word is beyond question?”

“I will.”

 

“Do you understand that once pledged you are forever bound

to a rule of defence? Defence of all Aes Sedai, the defence of the

White Tower?”

“Yes.” A thousand times, yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. It echoed in his mind, but somehow it did not disturb.

“Do you understand that once pledged you are forever bound

to a rule of obedience? Obedience to your officers, obedience to all

Aes Sedai?” 

“Yes.”

 

“Do you understand that once pledged you are forever bound

to a rule of commitment? Commitment to serving faithfully, commitment

despite any adversity?”

 

The toughest question, the one he had feared the most. This oath held, it stated that he was to become tied. It stated that he could -not- run away, not again. Practicing words was something he could do. He was articulate, words did flow with him. Saying them now, stating them, confirming them. This was different. This would make the forked road, so very different.

 

A face appeared in the corner of his vision, but he knew if he turned, she would not be there. But it did what it needed to, and he felt his resolve fasten.

“Yes.”

“Then give your oath now.”

 

He did not breathe deeply, like he had foreseen. He spoke. Simply, clearly, without the thickening of his accent.

 

“I swear by the light and my hope of salvation and rebirth, as

a Tower Guard to defend the White Tower and all who call it home.”

“I swear by the light and my hope of salvation and rebirth, as a Tower

Guard to serve faithfully for as long as the White Tower requires me.”

“I swear by the light and my hope of salvation and rebirth, as a Tower

Guard to fight the shadow and uphold the light until my dying day.”

“We welcome you to the Tower Guard, you that were known

once as of.” He did not smile as the Amyrlin fastened the clasp but instead gave her a grave face that spoke of respect and honour. He did not smile as it felt down against his back. Celebrations would come, but later.

“We welcome you as of the Tower Guard, our brother in

arms. Rise and stand as one among many.” He did not fumble as feared when he rose. He did not smile when he accepted the dagger from Rosheen, but his eyes spoke as well as he needed them to.

“You came to us unarmed, and as our mark of trust we place this steel

in your hand. May you keep it as a symbol of the trust that has been

placed in you, and may it serve you well.”

 

The hand on his back confirmed it. He was not dreaming, for Ginae Auvriani had never told him of this part of the ceremony. Unless this meant that it wasn’t.

“Spare a moment for those who have come before you and to who you have

become, as shall those who follow you.”

 

It wasn’t. Nerome began to smile.

 

~Nerome Seshir

Tower Guard.