Sitting on the ground infront of Rory who was already seated, Lillian crossed her legs and rested her hands on her thighs as she considered the student before her, and why she was here.  Rory had proven difficult with other teachers, stubbornly refusing to learn what they offered to teach her.  She suspected that they'd approached Rory the wrong way, but everyone did have their individual teaching style.  There were others that would perform better under them than they did with Lillian no doubt.

 

But this was Rory, and Lillian was fairly certain that she could get through to the girl.  She resented being treated like an ignorant child, yet she was ignorant which then exacerbated the problem.  Pushing and forcing would do little with her except encourage her to dig her heels in, guiding her and showing her what she could do, and then giving her reasons for her to do it that she cared about, it did more than encourage her to do it, it encouraged her to apply herself more overall.  You could lead a horse to water but you couldn't make them drink.

 

"Well Rory, I'll be honest.  You've managed to successfully frustrate your previous teachers to the point that your mentor has asked me to help you with this part of your education.  Since your lack of progress has little to do with your ability and much more to do with your willingness to apply yourself, I'm curious as to why you have chosen not to study."

 

Pausing for a moment, Lillian added.  "So, I'd like you to tell me why.  Because when we first spoke, I thought we had covered how serious it was that you do learn.  That your freedom, the safety of those around you and, indeed, your own life were dependent on you learning how to embrace saidar.  Is there something more important than these reasons that has convinced you to stop?"

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Accepted of the White Tower

Rory had been experiencing a difficult time of it. From her last conversation with Accepted Lillian she had taken away a forbidding sense of gravity and resolve to do what was necessary. Saidar confused her more than ever, and certainly not for lack of trying. She had been to the classes, she had listened to the instructions but nothing stuck. In one ear, out the other and she could not remember more than basic rudimentary points.

 

Then they had try to make her embrace the power, she got that—in theory. One of many faceless Aes Sedai stood at the head of classroom, making her close her eyes and imagine something to do with roses that had her blushing furiously. The fact that she was the only student in the room blushing made it get all the worse until she looked much the rose herself.

 

She had failed. Once, twice, three times—more and more. The Aes Sedai teaching her had quickly presumed she was being stubborn, and she had been too ignoble to refute it. From there she was passed from instructor to instructor with no more luck or progress than the first; all of them damning her for some kind of miscreant. She hated those women.

 

She was trying, trying her very best to open herself to this stupid source of this stupid power that all these bitches in their stupid tower found so very important. Without quite understanding why she told all this to Lillian, almost word for stupid word.

 

"Alright."  Holding up a hand when the explanation began sliding from her problem to how much she hated her teachers, Rory was polite enough to pause and allow Lillian to speak.  "So, the problem isn't the willingness then.  Well, we must then examine what is going on and determine where the hurdle is.  Once we've found that, we can then figure out how you can overcome it and we can go from there.  I want you to try and embrace the source, explaining to me everything you do as you go."

 

Rory made a face but closed her eyes anyway. Even the thought of that silly rose made her uncomfortable. Think about a rose, just one silly little rose. Clear your mind. Think about a rose. Stupid rose. One my one she attempted to eliminate the thoughts from her mind, and one by one they vanished, until indeed nothing but a solitary rose. 

 

Rory was doing her best to call speak at the same time but did find it terribly distracting. She felt like an executioner reading the names of the damned as the guillotine fell.

“My home.

“My mother.

“My father.

“My life.”

 

She had attempted to derail one of her previous teachers by listing off absurdly dramatic items, such as; “Scuffles my old three legged dog, who do be missing me terribly no doubt,” and “My sick grandmother who do be needing me to take care of her.” It hadn’t worked, and she saw no reason to repeat it.

 

Rory cursed—loudly—only just realising she had let her thoughts stray. Bah, who cares about you anyway, stupid rose? Wait. No. come back!  It was at that point that the rose in her mind had chosen to grow the hind legs of a horse and gallivant wildly around her head. She informed it sternly that it needed to stand still so that she could focus upon it. It chose not to listen.

 

"Alright, stop and open your eyes."  Now Lillian was beginning to understand what the problem was, it made senses all things considered.  The question was how to fix it, perhaps the right example would help.  Her training at the yards would come in handy in this respect, or at least for this particular trick.  "Stand up for a moment, I'm going to demonstrate why you're having trouble."

 

Standing herself even as Rory did, Lillian smiled.  "Alright, you look like you're strong enough to lift me with your arms.  I'm going to demonstrate what you're doing when you try and reach saidar.  Just wrap your arms around me and lift me off the ground."  Flexing her arms, her legs, every single muscle she could possibly clench, she waited for Rory to do so.

 

She do be out of her mind! Rory grinned stupidly as she thought of a rather handy quip about “the hands on approach.” It would keep for a more suitable time, as if Lillian’s unusual method of teaching could actually teach her something, she didn’t want to antagonise until later… much latter.

 

Rather timidly she placed her arms around Lillian’s middle, expecting to be taken away in irons at any moment, or at worst blown into pieces. Hopefully no other Aes Sedai might be watching the strange turn of events. Wincing in preparation for any reconciliatory action on the part of anyone, unfounded or not, she lifted Lillian off the ground and then hastily placed her back down again.

 

"Very good."  Grinning, Lillian shook herself loose, allowing herself to relax again as she lifted up her hand and crooked a finger at Rory.  No doubt the girl would be thinking she was out of her mind, but her point would be proven quickly enough.  "Now I want you to try that again."

 

Ludicrous, out of her mind; insane! Was once not enough? Feeling just as uncomfortable as she did the first time, Rory attempted to lift her a second time. Lillian didn’t budge. Well. That was interesting. Rory tried again, and then a third time, failing both. It was possible that Lillian had used the power somehow, wasn’t it? This was very strange for Rory who had moments before felt the slight woman lift within her grasp.

 

She abandoned the game and indeed stood puffing and almost pouting over what had just inexplicably happened.

 

Lillian smiled as she gestured for Rory to sit back down even as she did so herself.  "The first time, when you lifted me I was tensed up.  I was pushing against you, resisting, and that gave you something to pull and thats why you were able to lift me.  The second time I didn't resist at all, I gave you no force to pull against which would give you the leverage necessary to lift me.  Its an important thing to keep in mind when it comes to saidar."

 

"Saidar can only be embraced when you don't try to exert force in any way.  Its already within you, waiting to come out.  All you have to do is open the door for it.  You can't chase it, can't try and pull it out, none of that works.  We tap our powers, we do not grasp them.  The problem is that when you start to get it right, you either sense you're succeeding or panicking and then you try and go for it.  At that point, you cannot tap the power anymore than you could lift me just then.  Do you see what I'm driving at?"

 

Rory sat in her customary “thinking” pose and wrapped her mind around Lillian’s words as she herself had Lillian’s middle. It made sense to her, almost, but what if saidar had simply decided not to make itself available for her use, it was possible. How, too, could she draw upon the source if neither she nor the source made an effort to involve themselves with the other?

 

“I do be thinking I understand, or will if given time. It do be an unnatural way of thinking for me.”

 

Nodding, Lillian spoke on.  "It will take time, it takes many people time.  When I first came to the Tower and wore Novice Whites, it took me a couple of months to find the source.  The thing to remember is that source isn't some seperate entity, it is a part of you, you are it.  You don't need to grasp your arm to move it, your arm is a part of you and saidar is much the same way.  Once you can accept it as part of you, then it will come."

 

"Now, we won't continue any further today.  You have other classes you have to attend to and you'll need your energy for those.  From now on, we shall have one hour a day together out here where you will try and embrace the source.  I'll be here for you to ask questions, to help you where I can."  Smiling, Lillian got to her feet as she gestured for Rory to do the same only to frown when something occured to her.  "And don't try and reach the source without me.  If you push yourself too hard then some very bad things can happen, and I won't be there to heal you.  Alright?  Good, we will continue tomorrow."

Rory had ignored Lillian’s command that night and had indeed sought for the source. She had failed. Failed as she had every other attempt since that day, in the presence of Lillian, Saline, and even alone. When other novices grasped the source for the first time she watched their joy from afar, and whey they had created candle-flame sized fire she had envied, for she had not joined them, could not join them.

 

At first it did not seem so bad, she did not really wish to do it anyway; it was but a necessary requirement in her pursuit of home and happiness. What did it matter to her how long it took, if she was forced to submit to the tower’s channelling or not. Soon she had told herself, soon I’ll be home with my father eating, drinking and being very merry. This perspective did not last long.

 

That she was last in her classes did not bother her and that she had not yet grasped the source. But when newer novices, newer initiates to the tower began to surpass her, that rankled. As time wore on her own inability to make a connection soured her mood. The thing she had never wished to do, but would for the sake of necessity, became an obsession.

 

She searched for answers wherever she could find them, books, other novices, accepted, and occasionally Aes Sedai themselves. It was an obsession borne of desperation to prove to all of her detractors that had what it took, that she was not a lost cause. And even though her theoretical knowledge of the source grew daily, often in those moments when she should have been resting, she had still be unable to reach saidar.

 

She heard them with their whispers behind her back, how she was a disgrace; that she would never earn the shawl, that she would never touch the source. One of the things she specifically did not want to do was become an Aes Sedai, but the insults cut her anyway.  Lillian, Saline, and others remained patient, despite herself losing all of it.

 

On her rare free days when she was not looking for answers she was often making trouble in the city proper. Scuffles, scraps and all out physical combat, her inadequacies had slowly begun to eat away at her happiness until her disruptive behaviours had ceased inclusions of humour.

 

And still she maintained her silent vigil, searching for an answer to her plight. She lacked sleep, stopped eating; lost weight and condition until she was little more than a shell of ambition. She refused to give up. They would not let her leave until she succeeded, or until she proved beyond all doubt that it would never be, and she could not stand the ridicule any longer.

 

Now she sat once more upon the grass, opposite Lillian, despairing. They had tried three times already that day, Lillian as always remaining composed—patient—even sympathetic. Rory grinding her teeth, silently despising the knowledge she had been given of what skills she might possess, what abilities she could have—could have if she wasn’t so useless!

 

She knew it by rote now. Eyes closed. Imagine a rose. Remove all distractions. The rose is yours. Imagine the rose being touched by sunlight—opening: nothing.

 

Eyes closed. Remove all distractions. The rose is yours. Imagine the rose being touched by sunlight—opening. Nothing.

 

Eyes closed. The rose is yours. Sunlight. Rose opening—nothing.

 

Eyes closed. The Rose is yours. Sunlight: nothing.

 

Eyes closed. The Rose is yours.

 

Eyes closed. The Rose is yours.

 

Eyes closed. The Rose is yours ....

 

Rory screamed. Not just one of frustration, but of deep and total outrage, railing against the futility, the impossibility of the task at hand. She could not do it. She never would, all those late nights, all those hours of study and for what? What? Failure! Failure, failure, failure! She cursed violently, kicked the ground, tore grass and threw it. All impotent reflections of her barred desires, all as useful as attempting to open to the source.

 

She spoke, not to anyone in particular, but to anything within range of hearing; said things she would not have said at any other time or in the presence good company; she had forgotten Lillian was even there. Her voice was tight, and her emotions threatened to force tears, but she would not cry. It wasn’t worth crying. None of this was worth crying over, she simply had to hold onto the thought that she did not want to be where she was, and that failure was acceptable. Indeed, preferable!

 

“I no do be caring any more. You can keep your stupid tower, I give up!”

 

And it happened.

 

Her total acceptance of his inability, her complete surrender to the forces around her, unlocked a window through which she caught a glimpse of something more: something powerful. Without warning it swept across the horizons of her comprehension, through the window of her mind, and set her soul ablaze.

 

The instant was beyond description, when the tender veil of her perception was lifted from her eyes and she felt the world around her for the first time, felt a frightening yet natural oneness. And the pleasure ... her mind reeled, even as her physical body yearned for more.

 

And then, as quickly as it came, it was gone and Rory slumped to her knees. She stared at the ground panting for breath, unbound tears falling unashamedly among the grass. She could not suppress the melody of joy her heart was playing, and somewhere inside her she hated them for that.

 

 

Rory had been a particular test of patience for Lillian, though the thought wasn't quite what it sounded like.  Rory was trying, but trying so hard that she was unable to surrender like she was meant to.  As the weeks turned to months, Rory was becoming obsessive and there was only one way for that to lead, which was why Rory had been left in her charge despite the lack of progress.  Rory's problem was akin to that of a block, with that right pressures it would break down and Rory would be able to move forward, all it would take was time and direction, nothing could rush it.

 

No, it was a test of patience specifically because Lillian had to let it run its course, despite what it was doing to Rory.  Lillian had noticed how it was bearing on Rory, how it was slowly driving her insane to be unable to claim what she felt she should be able to have.  The depression that was tormenting Rory, the loss of weight, all of it hurt Lillian because she knew that she needed to do something, yet she knew that there was nothing she could do without making it worse for Rory, disrupting the path that Rory was being guided upon.

 

It was the moment where the months of work culminated in that one perfect second, a brief glimpse of Rory's ability winking in and out of existence.  Yet that one second, that one moment, it would have a profound impact on the rest of Rory's life and Lillian knew it.  The milestone that proved to Rory that she was capable, and furthermore what she was capable of embracing.  One perfect moment that would help shape the rest of her life, and make all the terrible months worthwhile.

 

Cheering, Lillian scrabbled across the grass quickly and pulled Rory into her embrace even as Rory wept.  All the strain, stress, anger, hopelessness, all of it was being released in this one moment as Rory realised exactly what the purpose of all of this was, what could be hers, what was her.  Crooning softly, telling Rory that everything would be alright, Lillian did the best she could to help Rory find herself again as Rory would never be the same again.....

 

 

It was some months later, but as Rory sat down opposite her, Lillian smiled as she greeted her student.  Rory had progressed in leaps and bounds, she still struggled at times to reach the source, but she could do it now most of the time in the very first go.  The pushing and pulling exercises had helped with that control, or so Lillian had found, and Rory was well onto her way to recovering her confidence and was smiling where there had once only been anger and frustration.

 

"Today, we are going to learn how to weave threads, it is with these that we manipulate the world around us.  Everything from creating water out of air to causing a thunderstorm, all of it is dependent on the correct handling of the different threads that one may perceive."

 

Frowning, Lillian added.  "But before we continue, let me make something very clear because this is one of the most important rules you will ever learn about saidar.  Never, ever EVER pick apart a weave.  Anything you ever weave, any threads you ever use, you never pick them apart.  Doing that is catastrophic, not only would you kill yourself, but if you were to do it here you would kill me as well, and anyone else in the vicinity.  The threads we use make up the pattern, trying to pick apart the pattern causes a backlash that is fatal.  Just, never, ever, do it."

 

"I know I'm belabouring the point, but trust me, its a bad idea.  Now I want you to embrace the source and to watch."  Nodding as she saw that Rory had done so and was holding the power steadily, she embraced the power herself and brought five threads into being before her.  Each one she pointed to in turn, their colours would make them distinct to Rory.  "Air, Earth, Fire, Spirit and Water, these five elements are what compose the pattern around us.  Women are as a general rule stronger in Air and Water, men favour Earth and Fire, Spirit is balanced between both genders."

 

"Now, I am going to run through a series of weaves, I want you to pay attention to each one of them.  Over the weeks and months, we are going to study these weaves until you can do them in the blink of an eye.  Not only are they useful in themselves, but every single one of them also serves as basic components for much more complicated weaves that you will learn later in your Novitiate as well as your time as an Accepted."

 

Taking a handkerchief from one of her sleeves, she first made water pour from thin air onto the handkerchief.  Squeezing the handkerchief, it was still wet but by thickening the strands of water, they flowed free of the handkerchief and made it dry.  Pulling a clod of earth from the ground, she held it in her hand and shaped by bonding the threads of earth within it into one solid mass.  Using a thread of air to lift it, she then used a thread of fire to light it, and letting it burn for a moment snuffed it with air.  Lastly, she took air and fire as she tossed the earth away and formed a sphere of light that burned between them, radiating little heat but it was bright nevertheless.

 

Dropping the final weave, Lillian smiled at Rory who was looking at her with a certain measure of incredulity.  Not so much because Lillian had done those things, Rory had enjoyed months to become used to the women around her using the power.  More that she was going to learn all of that, but like Lillian had said, it would take time.  "We begin today, choose a weave to work on and when we finish that, we shall move onto the next one."  Lillian tucked her handkerchief into her sleeve as she waited for Rory to begin.  Whatever Rory needed help with, Lillian would assist her however possible over the days and weeks.

 

 

Lillian Tremina

Accepted of the White Tower

Success was elusive. Progress ran in inches for one who measured in miles and even the milestone of finally being able to touch the source could not fully banish mild disappointment, but Rory had tried hard nonetheless. She vowed to master the basic weaves even if it took a lifetime, and at that point she was confident it would, but she never lost her smile again, for she knew she would succeed.

 

Saidar came easier, but giving herself completely was difficult for such a stoic, headstrong woman as Rory, and the best she achieved was a considered two or three tries to success ratio. This was less than ideal, but she did not care. Not one whit. She was touching the source and she was learning and by The Creator’s woolly beard she’d not let something as inconveniencing as that slow her down.

 

With Lillian’s help she slowly began to understand. Seeing the weaves as a textured double vision at first had been disorientating, and this was before even considering the potential for complicated patterns and designs. No, simply holding two visions, one slightly overlapping the other was enough to make her dizzy and give her a headache, which it had done, frequently.

 

Mental fatigue was another serious hurdle, she could manage maybe five minutes at the start before the fingers of her mind went rubbery and she could not manipulate the bands of elemental essence. Lillian had warned her about trying to wield Saidar, as though she were capable of wielding anything more eldritch than a painted shoe, and that it could be lethal not only for Rory, but Lillian herself and anyone else near by. 

 

Rory believe Lillian when the Accepted spoke of generic affinities for men and women channellers, but had personally found no difference, each element was just as difficult to utilise as the next, which meant quite a lot, and she did not think that any one “colour” would become easier for her than any other, she was open to the possibility though, a bit of ease would have been nice.

 

There were frequent times when Rory, not the most patient of souls, became frustrated and on the verge of a raging outburst, those were break times, when Lillian would distract her, or lead her away from the topic of saidar until she had cooled down long enough to try again. Concentration was difficult, and it was a tenuous thing, easily corrupted.

 

As with all progress it built up momentum until one day, many months later, she managed to grit her teeth and bear exhaustion all the way through a single thread. Perhaps not much to any accepted, Aes Sedai, and even some of the more gifted Novices (of which there seem to be a great many) but to Rory she had just one some magnificent prize and with each minor achievement her face would light up with a smile as warm as the sun.

 

She missed her parents terribly, but Lillian had put a stop to that by arranging to have letters delivered back and forth, and while she would occasionally cry to herself in the quiet night she was still very happy. The tower did not seem nearly so frightening as it first had, but she had not forgotten what she considered ill-treatment at the hands of the Aes Sedai, and continued to make life difficult wherever possible.

 

Then there came the question of free days. At first Rory had spent those rare occasions at any of the local taverns dancing and making merry, but as the desire to succeed imbedded itself deeper and deeper into her head, she found that all she truly longed to do on her free days was sleep a very long time and have a very hot bath.

 

And just like that many more months had passed and she had found the endurance to weave all four threads in a series. It had been such a silent improvement that she had barely even registered. She had a headache—so what—she needed a nap—so what—she had succeeded—yes! Her path was simple, she would collect more and more weaves, and then she would unleash retribution upon the tower and all its occupants … very, very annoying and possibly itchy, retribution.