It had been nearing noon, and the day had been growing warmer. Even though Vanion was blindfolded, he could judge the hours by how the heat of the sun touched him. He found it amazing the things you learned when you took away sight. But that had been some time ago now, and all he knew was that he was indoors somewhere at the moment.

 

The blindfold, a simple black scarf given to Vanion by his mentor, Orion, was part of his training. He had brought this on himself, wanting to learn how to defend himself while not being able to see. It had been difficult at first, the lack of sight, but Vanion was becoming more and more adept at finding his way. He had begun to form a mental map of the Warder Yards and the Trainee Barracks that was fairly accurate, and he was much better at avoiding obstacles in his path. An adaptation he was rather forced to make, as some of the other trainee's had thought it would be funny to throw things in his path to trip him.

 

Today though, Vanion had wandered outside of that mental map he had taken such care to create. Orion wouldnt have a mental map to work with when going somewhere new, so why should I? , thought Vanion.

In reality, Vanion had actually been hopelessly lost for the better part of an hour, and still had not the slightest clue of where he was. It was only foolish pride that kept him from removing the blindfold, but having only been alive for sixteen years, his pride meant a lot to him.

 

All he knew was that he was still somewhere on Tower grounds. Stopping, Vanion tried to trace his steps in his mind, how far he had come, which turns he'd taken, and how they lay in relation to his mental map.

 

Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning and he sighed deeply, shaking his head at himself. With a rougish half smile, he started to chuckle, "A right fine situation I have myself in now", he said to himself, "lost and blindfolded somewhere in the White Tower."

 

And somewhere dangerously close to the Novice areas. But with no real idea of which way to go, he just continued foreward, a slight smile on his face as he casually swung his sheathed sword just infront of himself to avoid walking into something. And all the while, he couldnt help but thinking to himself, the Mistress of Trainee's is going to kill me... One wrong turn and I'm a dead man...

 

Vanion

 

Bright sunlight spilled through the window and fell in tawny tones across her desk. It painted pretty patterns on the polished wood, lent a welcome warmth as well to these cool quarters, but the pages in her grasp were so sheer a white that the sunshine set them to blazing; for the hundredth time she narrowed her eyes, adjusted the book a fraction so that the reflection did not actually blind her, and addressed herself once more to her writing. Part of her figured it was useless, the sun would continue tracking across her desk remorselessly until her patience finally snapped and she went elsewhere, but it seemed rather absurd to break her concentration because it was such a fine day outside, and besides … Aes Sedai were supposed to be the world’s only hope of salvation: they did not give up working because it was sunny.

 

A satisfying advantage of her rank lay scattered across her desk in half a hundred loose papers. All the Green Ajah’s eyes and ears reported to her in the end, if examined first by somebody of dubious intent … and there was one position she meant to do away with if she could … and while many told only tales taller than she was others contained treasure. Fires still burned in the smoking shambles which had once been Chachin. Folk massed to the Dragon’s Amnesty where those black coated fools had set up a staging post in Tear. Some far darker forces were at work in the world. Rumours. She counted her own network as substantial, but getting information from her own sources was one matter, and possibly equally as amusing as having other people offer it from their own spies; a thousand subtly different stories pieced together some clearer pictures of what was actually happening.

 

Nevertheless, it grated a bit that she could no longer ascertain the truth for herself. She trusted her own observation and judgement far better than that of all those unknown sources, each with their own agendas, half barely literate and the other half schemers as much as she, but if she left Tar Valon for even a month she would undoubtedly return to find a modernist Ajah Head in her place. Disorder raged up and down the land, great events fell out every hour that she remained locked in this ivory tower, and she could not stir so much as a step to answer them. Half of her rather wished for matters to fall out as they had done some eighty years ago so she and the entire Green Ajah could go to war in a grand campaign. Yet she knew her history well, knew what had happened to that other Captain General, and Sirayn did not intend to suffer the same fate.

 

Burn it: to investigate these latest reports from Tear properly she needed to get her hands on some rather more recent works on Tairen history than currently lined her shelves. One would think that folk so superior could manage their own affairs efficiently, but apparently that required a modicum more intelligence than they possessed, at least according to her few brave sources in that Aes Sedai-hating land. Books it was. At this hour the Tower Library would be quiet and cool, and if she happened to drop by the sunny gardens for an hour to catch up on the requisite information, it was scarcely out of her way.

 

All this contributed to a considerable amount of irritation when, crossing by the novice quarters, she found herself briefly menaced by what appeared to be a safely sheathed sword. Memories told her sharply about being at the point of a blade; she stamped out her wretched, instinctive response to perceived threat, trapped the sheathed blade lightly in her hand, and pushed it down to point at the floor. Sirayn surveyed this makeshift cane and rather makeshift blind man much with the air of one surrounded by fools; an ire only compounded by the knowledge that her perfectly calculated look of disgust was being wasted upon its sightless wielder. “You appear to be wandering blindfolded in the corridors.†Chilly tones conveyed her judgement on that pursuit. “I will give you the benefit of the doubt, assume that you have at least a spark of intelligence, and permit you to explain why before I banish you out into the city.â€

As Vanion walked through the corridors, he heard the whisper of feet. Light steps. A woman's steps... And Vanion knew that he was in all likelihood a dead man, just as he'd thought. Just walk right on by... Oh, Light, just let her keep walking, he thought to himself. But the Light appeared not to have heard his plea, as the footsteps stopped directly infront of him.

 

A hand grabbed onto the sheath of his sword and pushed the point to the floor, and then he heard the cold tones of the woman who had taken hold of the sheath of his sword...

 

"You appear to be wandering blindfolded in the corridors. I will give you the benefit of the doubt, assume that you have at least a spark of intelligence, and permit you to explain why before I banish you into the city."

 

As soon as she started speaking, Vanion knew the woman was Aes Sedai and that he was on very thin ice. Trying to think quickly, he decided it best to simply tell her the truth, and fast, before she grew impatient with him.

 

Bowing gracefully, he smiled at the woman nervously and said, "My apologies, Aes Sedai. Embarassing as it is to admit... I am actually a little lost. My name is Vanion al'Makor, and Im a Trainee. The blindfold was the idea of my mentor, Orion, who is blind. Its part of my training, ma'am, honestly it is. Its to learn to fight without sight. I was instructed to go about my day to day activities while wearing this, so as to help accustom me to being blind."

 

Reaching up with his free hand, Vanion pulled the blindfold off, squinting slightly as his eyes adjusted to the light. Looking at the woman who was still holding onto the sheath of his sword, he saw he was indeed correct in his assumption. And her ageless face seemed rather put out with him at the moment. Looking her straight in the eyes with his own amber colored eyes, he thought it best to try and difuse the situation.

 

Once more making his best leg, Vanion motioned to his sword and smiled, "Honestly Aes Sedai, there is no danger. You may release my sword. I came here because I wanted to become a Warder one day. My father once told me that a man is only as strong as the cause he is fighting for, and what better cause could there be than defending an Aes Sedai?"

The air sat still and stifled in the absence of wind causing the yard to feel like an oven in his present state. He crossed along the baked dirt pathway; dry, moisture hungry cracks spidery along its surface. The blazing sun a distant beacon of brilliant torture mocked him in his journey. Keeping his gaze down; eyes red tinged and glassed from the glaring reflection of unnaturally white stone. His late night adventure having kept him up longer then he cared to admit. Corin was rapidly beginning to understand that with Carhiens there was no simple parties or gatherings.

 

All he wanted was to find Sirayn Sedai, give her his report and get some sleep; a sigh escaped him at the knowledge sleep would still be a distant stranger, the slip alone indicating how tired he truly was. Before his head would find the soft comforting embrace of a pillow thick with down feathers he would need to check on his mentees and ensure that they were still well in hand and deep in their studies and practices. A dull throb at his temples only seemed to accentuate the burning sensation of his eyes; pin pricks sharp and deep behind their lids.

 

Stepping through the passage into the tower itself allowed some of the tension knotting his shoulders to release as the cool dim corridor embraced him in it’s serenity. One of the very few times he relished the idea of being within it’s stonewalls. Pieces, like random shards from a shattered pane of glass, snippets of conservations and events. Identities and places that offered no clue to a whole picture in his mind danced about taunting him as he made his way through the varying corridors; boots ringing softly off the hard surface. There was little doubt in his mind; to Sirayn these would mean something, purpose where none thought one would exist. She had great history and interests in their procession and affairs; something he lacked greatly which would allow shape and a key to their assembly. Even knowing that outright would not stop his mind running them over from every angle. Like a jeweler examining the facets of a fine diamond she had trained him to observe, record, and find a way to assemble what should not be.

 

He rubbed absently at his left temple as a group of Novices scurried by, no doubt on a task or errand of one kind or another. To look at the yard and the tower as an outside observer one could draw many parallels in their views and desires when looking at the novices and trainees both held close. A study he had begun shortly after his raising. He had brought many of these snippets and seemingly trivial words to her over the years; some he had begun to understand if only the tip of the larger iceberg below the surface. But it was a start, besides which, there was other items of interest to him that he did not always offer up to her; knowledge was worth more then any gold in the game they played.

 

Turning down another connecting corridor on his way to the stairwell that would carry him to her quarters his ears caught a faint and familiar tone lightly reverberated off emotionless walls that held more answers to secrets then one could imagine. The edged words filtered from a passageway that would take him toward the Novice quarters if memory served him correctly. This was a place in the tower even the guards themselves where greatly unwelcome unless directed and usually under the watchful shadow of an Aes Sedai. Surely in assumed protection of an Aes Sedai and their precious children a strong argument could be made, even preparing his mental argument he slipped softly down it’s length. A young man’s voice caring long the hallway brought a smile to his face as he spotted the pair; a delicate feminine right hand wrapped firmly around the sheath of a sword. No indication played on her face as to whether she believed the young trainee who held the swords hilt but he would have been beside himself with shock had she. Displayed indications gave way too much in Daes Dae’mar in which he was her pupil.

 

“I do not believe even Orion will find much weight in that reason,†the boy’s attention turning rapidly in his direction; Sirayns a slower more controlled movement offering nothings in it’s presentation. Corin dropped smoothly in to a bow; it’s depth fitting her position to almost an exacted inch. “Good afternoon Sirayn Sedai, I trust this young traineeâ€, his eyes flicked harshly to the boy as he emphasized his meager title. “Is not bothering you too greatly.†Eyes once more taking her in; studying her eyes quickly in an attempt to gauge her mood. The look did not last long; he preferred not to raise her ire toward him but with all the time they had spent together he had begun to read some level of emotion in her eyes. Outwardly he stood at ease facing the two; but his mind already laid three options before him on the boy’s demise and his left hand was set to draw a dagger if needed. Not everything seemed as simple as it once had to him; not even in the Tower would he take a chance with a stranger around Sirayn; the warm smile still resting on his face.

 

 

Corin Danveer

Tower Guard

A smooth bow, an ounce of trepidation, satisfied her somewhat; courtesy went some way toward correcting the impression left by his rather strange behaviour and, besides, she liked to see people gain the proper respect and fear due to those of her rank. He was handsome enough if one liked one’s men tall and dark, she supposed, or indeed if one liked men at all … not something she was accustomed to even in passing these past decades. Tilting her head back a fraction, a deliberate gesture signalling that the height difference did not intimidate her, Sirayn surveyed her prey: a cool grey gaze searching his fair countenance for any secrets she might puzzle out. He did not display any of the tell tale signs of lying, but it was always safer to assume that everyone was lying, and that he was simply a better player than his seeming honesty indicated.

 

Lost indeed. If she had been a trainee wanting to creep into the novice quarters where she was definitely not permitted for purposes of diversion she might have done it precisely this way banking that nobody would bother to contact her mentor to double check. It seemed dangerous to presume that this child … this Vanion al’Makor, possessed only a half of her intelligence, so most like the same idea had occurred to him. Did she believe that a mentor’s strange ways took precedence over the supposed charms of a hundred empty headed children? Not in the least. “Orion Manteir, is it?†One dark brow lifted, as her tone shaded subtly toward disdain; she remembered that name well, remembered the man himself at that. A jab was on her tongue before she could still it. “I suppose there are only so many blind men named Orion in the yards. Is he still incapable of keeping his dubious romances behind closed doors?â€

 

As soon as she had spoken the words Sirayn regretted it beneath her iron calm. Shallow though the blind man might well be, seeking to cover up his woes with some headstrong woman or other, it was not her place to dent his authority from the cold ivory walls of her citadel. Diligently she removed any scorn from her tone, moderated remembered wrath, though it still stung her that an Aes Sedai who ought to know better should be carrying on in public in such a matter; as though she had no care for the blue shawl she disgraced! Few measured up to her standards these days. Probably a sign of getting cranky in her advancing years. His next words caused a slight darkening frown as she considered it: could it be that she was being mocked? The likelihood of anyone actually believing in the Tower’s integrity seemed slender. Casually she let the sheathed sword slip from her grasp. “Dispense with the platitudes, boy. I am too old to hear it.â€

 

Movement and words startled her. Slender shoulders tensed a fraction beneath the cool white cloth of her gown; swiftly she controlled the urge to prepare her defences, a hand she no longer had wanting to stray to daggers she no longer wore, and that familiar voice she recognised instantly so that by the time she had turned smoothly toward him her features were set in icy composure. Corin Danveer … young, brilliant and deeply devious. In observation and command of subtlety he rivalled many of those Aes Sedai newly raised to the shawl; his courage under fire she did not doubt for an instant. It troubled her constantly that she had no idea what he was planning and where his intentions lay. All those tremendously useful skills might as well be on the other side of the world for all she could trust their wielder … and while she might be able to send him to Cairhienin gatherings without compunction, having faith that his report would be as always outstanding, she did not trust him any further.

 

His friendly smile puzzled her momentarily. It looked to an outsider as though he was simply pleased to see her although she knew perfectly well that that was unlikely to be the case. Nor was it prudent to show any undue feeling out here in public with so many whispers to carry such a sign onward. So he had returned safely from last night’s little revel; she knew his fair features as well as her own by now, read into them small signs of tiredness, undoubtedly from the night’s hard tension. One did not enter lightly the den of scheming Cairhienin whom she named her family … particularly at the request of an Aes Sedai who knew much and shared nothing. Had she ever shared with him the results she gained from his activities? On the one hand it seemed only fair given the frequent risks, political and personal, which he ran in order to gather intelligence and, on the other, it would be an improbable risk to take. Light only knew what he would do with such information.

 

“Are you lost as well, Master Danveer?†As always she presented an unfathomable calm forged over centuries, displaying not the slightest trace of feeling. It was quite intimidating to those unaccustomed to Aes Sedai … or so she had been told once upon a time. Not that it did not advance her cause to daunt those lesser standing than herself of course. “I had thought that this corridor lay too far inside the Tower to be frequented by strays and blind men … but one learns something new every day. If either of you should require an Aes Sedai to direct you back to your own territory I should be pleased to do so and remove any, shall we say, distraction from our novices. After all they have their own studies to attend to. Much like certain members of the Warders’ Yard.†But not Corin Danveer. No, she had other plans for him and had done since their first meeting.