Bringing the heavy pair of scissors she used to trim her roses to bear, Janine examined the plant before her.  Already, dark blossoms were opening to the sun overhead, a testament to her patient pruning.  Some in the Tower found Janine's taste for black roses a bit too... disconcerting.  Janine's only retort was to give the most vocal bouquets of the roses for their namedays or whatever occasion she could think of at the time.  And it was more than they deserved.

 

Even after fifty-four years wearing the shawl, Janine could not stand to set foot in the Tower more than necessary, though she remained close for reasons far beyond her.  As a matter of fact, a messenger from the Tower could reach her in seven days of riding... if they could find the way to her, that was.  Janine's 'studies' kept her far enough away from any village that any mistakes she made would not cause anybody any difficulties; when one worked with the weather, anything could happen.

 

Janine's choice to leave the Tower had largely been based on irritation.  She was tired of being ordered around by women who were, with very few exceptions, weaker than her.  It was arrogance, she knew, but it did not trouble her.  After all, what could they do about it?  She was of the Green Ajah, the Battle Ajah; why should she not be arrogant?  It was a weapon in and of itself, she felt.

 

But roses?  Roses never complained, never voiced their unwanted opinions.  As difficult as roses could be, they never came close to comparing to an Aes Sedai in difficulty.  All they needed was sunlight, water, and the occasional trimming, and they would grow to their full potential for their mistress.  It was the only planning that Janine enjoyed, as a matter of fact.

 

Embracing saidar, Janine spun a simple weave of Air and Water over her extensive garden, then watched her handiwork.  The weave was simple, yes, but the strength of the weave was enough to accelerate what would normally take a half hour.  Ten minutes later, she felt the first drops of rain against her cheek.  Smiling, she turned her ageless face to the heavens as more heavy drops of rain fell.  Soon, the whole of the garden was engulfed in a slow heavy rain.  Working with rain could be difficult.  Too much to the weave, and you'd get a deluge that lasted mere seconds, or you'd get a slow drizzle that never ended.  It had taken many months of trial and error for Janine to get this weave exactly right; she could predict the rain's beginning and end within seconds.  There was probably nobody else in the Tower who could do that.

 

During her training with the Green Ajah's battle weaves, Janine had discovered a certain affinity for things like the lightning weave.  Oddly, it seemed to come easily to her.  This, when coupled with something that had happened bare months later, had sent her to the Tower Library in search of answers.  One of the Greens had been teaching Janine how to construct a wall of mist to help cover one's escape.  Janine's attempt to recreate what the woman had done, though, had resulted in a stiflingly heavy fog that had engulfed nearly half of Tar Valon for nearly three hours before anyone had managed to clear it away.  It was at her instructor's behest that Janine looked into the possible explanations.  It was there that she'd discovered the phrase "cloud dancing", a Talent that had to do with the ability to manipulate the weather.  Since testing the limits of the Talent within the walls of Tar Valon would have been ill-advised at best, Janine had established herself far enough from the Tower that she would not disturb it as she worked to discover more of what she could do with the Talent, yet still close enough to do research, should she need to do so.

 

Already, she had learned things that she felt that others in the Tower could not do.  It was amazing just how many nasty weaves one could work with in conjunction to the weather; in her mind, Janine felt that fighting her would be akin to standing on a tall hill with a sword pointed to the heavens in the middle of a thunderstorm.  They'd both probably end for the same reason.

 

As her weave faded, Janine stood dripping in the returning sunlight, dress soaked all the way through, hair hanging bedraggled over her shoulders.  What was it that people did not like about rain?  Smiling quietly to herself, Janine returned to her books.  There was always more to learn, if one was going to turn the fury of the heavens against the Dark One's minions in the end.

It was amazing just what was hidden in the White Tower's library regarding weather.  Janine would inevitably spend days digging through dusty tomes and ancient scrolls, picking out various passages and pages for copying later.  After all, the novices and wayward Accepted needed something to do with their afternoons, too.  These researches often proved disheartening, as Janine would often run across items of interest regarding the manipulation of weather.  This would lead to hours of experimenting in her wilderness retreat, and then disappointment when later research would reveal the necessity of ter'angreal or a circle of both men and women.

 

However, for every ten, twenty, or one hundred failures and dead ends, there would be one success.  A new, easier weave to bring about rainfall had finally yielded itself to her ten years ago, as well as new ways to channel clouds into being, bring about droughts, and make snow in summer.  Of course, there were other things to research, though she hardly told the Tower everything. 

 

For instance, out of a perverse curiosity, Janine found her tracking the forbidden weave balefire through the library, only to quit after a couple months of searching.  Although the results of the weave proved tempting for one who was preparing herself to fight the Dark One and his ilk, the consequences were just too much.  It was probable that reality still had not completely healed itself of the near-apocalyptic damage wrought by the use of balefire, and Janine found herself following Tower law of her own accord.  Balefire could stay buried.

 

But this... this was too intriguing to leave alone.

 

Janine had been in the White Tower for nearly a week, which was a record for her.  She had come in search of more information about the controlling of storms, but had quickly settled on something far more... deadly.  Running a hand over her hair, pushing it out of the way, Janine glanced again at the illustration she'd discovered.  It was a woman, hair standing on end, hurling lightning at an eagle-faced Trolloc.  The text itself spoke of an even more intriguing weave, one that could strike several foes in succession.  However, the book itself was not complete, and the next fifty pages were lost to time.  However, Janine had several leads.  One of them would no doubt turn up something...