Ship of Fools (Saline's Oaths)

Burn her but it disorientated her. Never before had she encountered the chamber. Stone walls on four sides, polished until they gleamed with light. In the centre, an object, of such a perfect oval that she never could draw, so tall and narrow, its side panels rounded out as her eye traced its length. There was no support, just a ring standing upright, defying the natural laws. Whether the glow was lamplight or the domed ceiling she did not know, though she suspected it might have emanated from the object itself; the oval flickered in flashes too rapidly for the mind to register.

 

Never before had she laid eyes on the testing chamber, so why would she feel that she had indeed been here before? A familiar sensation thrilled through her, when she looked from one ageless woman, to another, then the next.  Seven, she counted as she took her gaze from them. Rubbing briskly at her arms, she missed the pleasures of being together, outside. Out there was a beauteous summer day with Rory. Here, rooted deep as old as only traditions could, was stone cold. Shivering, she felt the same cold her predecessors must have. Surrounded by Aes Sedai, and the dangers they prepared.

 

There would be danger. Darienna Sedai had told her it would be a path of danger, where too much knowledge always led to more danger. Saline nodded, knowing it was dangerous, as she pushed past the large shining doors. These lack iron straps, but Darienna Sedai had to direct flows of air and they opened, then with a hiss they slid back into place behind them.

 

As the doors closed she realised her feelings were, while uncanny, still natural. She had seen a device similar in purpose and function to this one, which used the One Power to test her a decade ago. In order to pass the Arches, a candidate faced her fears, and she had by passing through hers, proven enough worth to gain Acceptance. Many had faltered, and not survived. Two decades since she came, and two chances she was given to turn down the testing for Acceptance. She had ran away from that, as just as she had ran away from Rory, but in the end Saline confronted them both, and saw the truth. When she understood the truths, she came to love them for what they stirred in her… It was disconcerting, this test for the Oaths, to prove her worth as a contributing member of the Tower community. For two decades, The Tower had guided her along, yes, and the test to gain Acceptance would be most unforgiving.

 

Too late, there was no turning around, no practising her weaves; Saline was committed to them, and their high hopes. She had not been given a chance to refuse, and time had snuck upon her faster than an executioner’s axe. They asked her how she would depart. As if in a dream she found herself answering with words that came easier than they should. She did not falter. If she faltered she would stumble, and on account of one false note, one tiny stumble would be enough to send her outside. For a moment she wondered if that beauteous summer day would be so horrible, but realised without Rory, it would fade in warmth. In knowledge of herself, she wanted to be sharing her life with Rory, who deserved to be an Aes Sedai. If Saline was to wore the Shawl, she would be worthy of staying by Rory’s side, following her wherever life was most engaging.

 

Perhaps it was the wrong reason to want to be Aes Sedai, so she could be Rory’s companion. When Saline searched within herself she found no reason why she wanted to be an Aes Sedai. People needed help, yes, but so did the Sisters. Saline was no better than the people she professed to help, and did not suppose she wanted to be extraordinarily wise or powerful. She had not found a soldier, or scholar, or diplomat in her future, nor did she wish to spend the remainder of her natural life squabbling with the Hall, even if her peers deemed her selectable. The Tower had -- through inflicting discipline on her until she fizzed -- spent her ambitions, and she only wished to be left to her own devises, for her own purposes. It was selfish, and she kept the thought wrapped small as she bit her lip. She had never tried to emulate Aes Sedai calm, it was not her style; however, she did want to be stronger.

 

Soft, but she was getting ahead of herself. She stood, and contemplated as she replied: “To wear… the shawl.”

 

Soon, she would learn her worth. The Aes Sedai would try her, put her on trial. It was considered by many a glory to come so far, but she did not dwell in compliancy. When she departed, nothing would be as it was. Already she missed it, but knew whatever she gained in experience would change her, and if she came through it would not be the same world Saline had known. Faltering would mean refusal, but continuing could mean her life.

 

It seemed whenever she was close to being happy they would isolate her again, for testing. Saline knew it was not fair to think this of the Sisters, but she had to dab a sleeve furtively at her eyes under the cover of undressing, and slid her clothes over her dagger and pouch. Looking at them curled under her feet it occurred to her she would never have to wear whites again, if she survived. If she survived.

 

How depressing. The Light keep you whole and see you safe, Rory. She wished she would survive. Certainly if she did not pass, only the Light would see the other safe. Like she did when they asked for her reason to earn the shawl, she would not know. She only trusted in her abilities as she walked on in the light, utterly ignorant. Saline came wearing her perceptions and expectations, but she did not really know what was to occur. Paying careful attention to Darienna Sedai her instructions were simple enough, she was to remember a sign, one that was to appear on the ground.

 

Fire branded a six pointed star in front, and somebody, a Sister behind her had channeled, touching the back of Saline’s head with the weave. Once more, she would shiver, as she felt the weave settle on her. Squaring her shoulders she admitted it did not feel uncomfortable, only different.

 

"Remember what must be remembered." She was told not to falter as she neared the symbol, and to embrace the Source once the weaving required is known. She would not be able to leave the sign until her weave is completed in the given allowance of time.

 

"Remember what must be remembered." Again, she was to see the star. It would mark her path, again, she was to be steadfast, and weave without hesitation. A hundred times she would weave, and weave in order. “And in perfect composure.” What did that mean? The Sisters did not explain, but she suppose she would find out.

 

The women around her were occupied with the oval ring as it spun breathtakingly fast. Each Sister wove of all five elements, feeding the Ter’angreal as it revolved, until the opening changed white as snow, reminding Saline that she was clad in the Light. Luckily, the Sisters were not looking at her, though she felt self conscious without her dress. Rory would not have minded, she thought, and that gave her enough courage to take the first step. Once she took a step it was as if her feet took over. They carried her, neither hurrying nor lingering, but rather they moved forward in determination. She would not falter!

 

Striding through the whiteness she expected to be blinded as she had been when she stared into the testing chamber from the relative dimness of the passageway, but she was not. However, Saline did use a moment to re-orient herself, gathering her wits as she stood, back stiff to the opening, remembering what must be remembered. Atop a plateau she looked for the sign, but it did not show.

 

Then, the light caught her eye. A star hung from the sky, about six feet from the ledge. Saline could cry; she didn’t want to do it, but she had to. The first step was the hardest to take, and she could not help but to wonder whether there was a trick as she edged closer, her tummy a fluttering, heart thumping harder as she trained her eyes on the star and walked off the cliff. But she did not fall; instead she had been on a panel of Air, and it took her to the star. Saline didn’t falter as she completed her first weave, a bridge spanning six feet in the air.

 

“Please, dear,” said the Tinker, his mouth a bloody gash, “help me pour this oil on me; I want to be burnt to ashes, not a rotting corpse.” She knelt by his grave where they buried him, and despaired quietly. Thirty years since he died, and she would not suffer his death twice. Stepping away from his reanimated form, she checked herself from running it was almost a mercy to embrace the thorns that awaited her next weave.

 

As she climbed the hill she reached for a tree to steady her footing on the slope, when she was told to stop and froze. A voice told her to look at the gnarly tree she was about to touch and there, a little above it was a star branded unto its bark.

 

“I would not do that if I were you.” Velvet voice of a handsome man who knew his effects on women explained. “Under its bark the ants live in minute tunnels, and in exchange for the shelter they attack any who dare touch the surface. The tree finds it difficult to live without ants, you know. The locals here call it devil tree but their true name is known to only a few.” As he smirked at her nakedness she realised though her eyes had never beheld this man, she knew many of his kind, the charmers who became giddy on the fears of others. She had little patience for such men, and oddly enough, found no twinge that might signify her attraction to him.

 

“You are not me.” She retorted, and he smiled faintly as her hand grazed the bark.  Still touching the star, she realised he was not lying; ants swarmed in a fury, and stung her, but she held on to the star as she directed flows into the required weave, almost fainting as pain seared.

 

Her hand was on the block. No, a voice said, you need it for the weaves. Ah, right, the weaves.  Withdrawing her hands she laid her head on top of the block where the star was, and felt a stony resolve as she looked into their bemused faces. “No,” she told them gravely, “chop off my head if you have to, Sirs, but I must have my hands free.” And she wove her weave, ignoring the swing of the pendulum as it neared her neck, severing her skin.

 

She gaped, for the hand coming away from her neck was dry. Her fall should have broken something but all was in working order as she stretched idly. The field of honeysuckles she landed in was beginning to have their effect on her, reminding her of Rory’s perfume and lethargy set in as she fought. Do not sleep, she reminded as she ploughed through the flowers to her star. Sleep, and you will never wake.

 

Her eyes opened and found a room with a view. Outside were the loud clangs of fighting but battle held no interest for her.  Instead, she examined the closet’s workings more closely. It was shoddy, but for a star pierced intricately on it, like a tattoo. She was about to touch it when a bloodstained figure stumbled into her space, grasping her arm. Saline let the young woman take her arm; she knew the touch.

 

“Stay with me,” the other implored but she could not. She also could not stop her own body responding, drawing nearer despite the exquisite pain stabbing in her heart. It craved Rory’s warmth. For a moment she let the other pull her close, then she struggled.

 

Don’t be hurtful.

 

“You want me to do this, love” said Saline trying for gentleness but settling on insistence as she shook her arm free, and leapt for the star. As she did what was required of her, sending Earth and Fire to spin fireballs and molting lava she pushed away thoughts of delving and healing. The weaves would come in order, and should she step out of her designated course she would fail. The disappointment on Rory’s lovely face wounded deeply. Only cold, heartless creatures who would abandon their beloved prevailed.

 

The insufferable man was back again, and closing her eyes she wished for Rory fervently. There could not have been more contrast, she wanted Rory, and she was repulsed by him. Why then had she abandoned Rory, and why were her hands grappling forward, trying to secure a grasp as she tried to touch him, the man her guts loathed again and again? Perhaps because they remembered what must be remembered, and the star gleamed in his eyes. She tried to plunge her fingers into his sockets, but he danced away, out of her reach. Finally by embracing the Spring the way ‘Rome had taught her, she overcame the repellant dread in her stomach and instinctively kissed him, grabbing him as her threads slithered wildly, but she held him tight as she completed her weave.

 

And fell unto the hard chamber floor, where she knelt at Darienna Sedai’s feet. Curling her smashed body, which had been through considerable hard use, she caught her breath before brushing off the stinging slime on her split lip. Saline stood up, bleeding profusely over her hands. The Aes Sedai around her were smiling, all seven united in their pride at Saline’s passing.

 

"It is done."

 

Darienna Sedai clapped her hands together.

 

"Let no one ever speak of what has passed here. It is for us to share in silence with she who experienced it. It is done."

 

Darienna Sedai clapped her hands together, for a second time.

 

"You will spend tonight in prayer and contemplation of the burdens you will take up on the morrow, when you don the shawl of an Aes Sedai. It is done."

 

Darienna Sedai clapped her hands together, for the third time. And it was done.

 

~~~

A good fire never hurt anybody, and she needed warmth to-night. She had gone back to their room and upon finding no Rory; she knew where the Illianer had gone. Nonetheless she had taken a detour where the juniper tree grew, knowing no Rory would be napping under its branches. Then she had come here, instead of their room so that Rory might use it for her meditations later. Were there two testing chambers, and Rory’s lasted longer, or did her testing come the same day as Saline’s, only after? She suspected it was the latter, since there were not that many ter’angreal with the same functions in the world, much less the Tower.

 

Saline moved closer to the fire, her hands cool, as cool as the stone she kissed. Sitting alone she missed Rory already. They had known it was coming, of course, not this soon, but soon. Testing would come for both of them, and there was a good chance that neither of them would be alive after. In their rooms they had long nights of discussion, then silence as they sat together, guessing and second guessing the future. She had no doubts while being tested that Rory might not survive, but now that she had seen what distractions were in the ter’angreal world a voice in her head questioned. The thought daunted her, and she felt like it was cheating on Rory, and so she supplanted a loyal one instead. Rory would give it her best rumble, and that was that.

 

When Saline considered why she had survived the test she could not pinpoint a single thought that had ensured her passing; rather her success seemed to base itself around her knowledge of the Spring, which might have never happened if she was not friends with ‘Rome; her determination to return to Rory, to fulfill some thing of an obligation to the real world by running away; the fact that she was clad in Light helped to remind her how it was a test, and not real, and she was able to walk without faltering, with that logic in mind. Bundling memories of all that had happened to her this day, Saline drew from her experiences truths concerning her image. She was quite a selfish woman, and in order to survive, she had to be selfish to preserve. Why lie to herself that she’d rather fade in obscurity, when she yearned for the Aes Sedai position? I have come too far to refuse.  As she was taught, she used this knowledge to gain strength, and rejuvenated, was able to move on from her memories.

 

Straying hands felt the whites she wore now for comfort; in two decades’ time the cotton dress of an initiate was well broken in, while the sleekest silk felt too slim for nights. For the first time, she was to have complete say over her actions, and she was to know without anybody to tell her what she should do. Saline had earned this right through her passage, but she was still afraid. Sure, she had known what happened, but on the morrow she would be summoned to the chamber once more, and go in ignorance for come what may. She had a good idea where Rory wanted to go, but her heart was torn. There would be a falsity in her voice if she went there, so she would not, but it saddened her that there would be places Rory went that she could not follow, or knowledge she could not confide in Rory without violating the trust placed on her, a great trust that she would willingly bind herself to. She could only hope that the other would not be so foolish as to choose falsely, for Saline’s sake. Pushing her worries into a small bundle, she did what she had come here for.

 

Saline cooked.

 

~~~

"Who comes here?"

 

"’Tis… It is I, Saline." She patted the oily interior of her pouch as if the shortcake she baked doubled as a talisman warding misfortune. Smelling its delightful scent as her hand rubbed her nose, she felt reassured.

 

"For what reason do you come?"

Her voice did not waver again: "To swear the Three Oaths and thereby claim the shawl of an Aes Sedai."

 

"By what right do you claim this burden?"

 

"By right of having made the passage, submitting myself to the will of the White Tower."

 

"Then enter, if you dare, and bind yourself to the White Tower."

 

Saline eyed the Ter’angreal warily as she stepped into the chamber, wondering whether Rory was still alive. This time her escort stayed outside, and she pressed Darienna Sedai’s hands gently before picking up her skirts, and going forth to meet the Amyrlin, and the Keeper. Sisters from all the Ajahs were present, but she looked only at the Oath rod. Soon, she would grasp it in her hands, and hopefully not drop it.

 

"Under the Light and by my hope of Salvation and Rebirth, I vow that I will speak no word that is not true." The air pressed at her chest, constricting her words. Many times Rory had woken her during the night when she straddled her, and she was used to the pressure. Holding the rod firmly, she felt its pleasant coolness as she drew a deep breath.

 

"Under the Light and by my hope of Salvation and Rebirth, I vow that I will make no weapon for one man to kill another." The pressure was greater now, a form she had experienced during her testing, and she shivered as the Oath settled in.

 

"Under the Light and by my hope of Salvation and Rebirth, I vow that I will never use the One Power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme of defending my life, or that of my Warder, or another sister."  Saline’s eyes popped as the tightening became almost unbearable before it let off.

 

"It is half done, and the White Tower is graven on your bones." The silver rod was returned to the pillow once more as the Keeper whisked them both out of sight, and the Amyrlin extended a gracefully long arm toward Saline. "Rise now, Aes Sedai, and chose your Ajah. All will be done that may be done under the Light."

 

Saline bent her head and kissed the Amyrlin’s ring, as was expected of her. Up close, the Amyrlin seemed tired, her ageless face was stretched long and thin, and Saline felt a moment of sympathy as she dipped to the floor.

 

Rising from her curtsey, she knew the tears trickling down her cheeks were true as she hobbled on unsteady feet to the Ajah she always aspired, and upon seeing the confirmation in their eyes. “I come in ignorance.” She said, adding a small apology to Rory in her heart. Never before had Saline felt so small, nor falter so badly than the moment she had chosen them in petition. Against the passivity of her nature, she was to take the shawl from the woman’s proffered hands, and in the taking, clad in her humility -- she knew one simple fact. Her testing had only begun, to learn her worth within the Red Ajah. And oddly enough, she felt comforted by those forthcoming tests. They would keep her occupied, and she would learn until she built a life worthy of Rory Baker’s love. The Reds never said the mission would be easy but to keep moving anyway. And sometimes, sometimes the only thing to do was to accept with every given grace come what may.