OOC: these are my arches!!

IC:A rap on the door startled her. Sitting with Ranine cross legged on her bed, they were sharing lunch and talking about classes and old scarps they got into. They were older now but not yet been tested for acceptance. This was on there minds of late because a few of the girls they were close in age and time in the tower had been tested. With whispers and sick stomachs it was told that one of there number had been lost in the arches. With a shudder they spoke of it now and the fact that Zeveria had heard others saying they they would be next in line. Zeveria put it off as foolish gossiping. Ranine did not know what to think.

Getting up to answer the knock Zeveria brushed her dress and walked over to the door. Wondering who it could be she opened the door and dropped a curtsies in surprise.

 

“would you come in Farazyne Sedai?” she invited

 

Behind her she heard a muffled curse and her friend jumping off of the bed to give the same courtesy.

 

The with raised eyebrow for Ranine’s curse the MON shook her head, she directed her steely eyes back to Zeveria..

 

“Not today child. You are being summoned to present yourself to be tested for acceptance. Follow me.”

 

With that the MON turned on her heel and started to walk down the hall. With a look of nervousness shot over her shoulder to Ranine, she ran to catch up and then fell in behind her escort. Walking just a step behind, Zeveria kept pace with the woman. Farazyne knew the way and did not stop or falter in her step. Zeveria could feel her palms getting sweaty. She did not feel ready for this, she knew she did not have to right now, but could she bare it to say so? She did not like having marks against her, she did not like feeling as if she did not do her best. She had to do this now or never!

 

Arriving at the huge door into the chamber holding the ter’angreal for the testing of novices worthiness to stay in the tower, they entered. The doors opened surprisingly, without much effort. Looking around the room, she took note of her surroundings. With three sisters sitting around it the Ter’angreal shone with a silvery bright light that was uncomfortable to look at. It had images that came into focus and faded away as quickly as they came. Pictures of the past with people dressed in ages old fashions and into the future with large metal contraptions that held people and went at great speeds. It was all dizzying, Zeveria closed her eyes and opened them again, the images were gone. The fire on the hurth cast the shadows dancing. It made the sister standing by a little table look like a strange creature.

 

“child there is something I need to tell you know before you go any further…There are two things that no woman hears until she enters this room. Once you begin, you must continue to the end. Refuse to go on, no matter your potential and you will be very kindly put out of the Tower with enough silver to support you a year, and you will never be allowed back. Second. To seek, to strive, is to know danger. You will know danger here. Some women have entered, and never come out. When the ter'angreal was allowed to grow quiet, they - were - not - there. And they were never seen again. If you will survive, you must be steadfast. Faltering leads to a failure” with an understanding look the MON then asked “do you wish to proceed?”

 

Looking at the tripod of stone circles, she sisters with brown, green and grey shawls on. Zeveria knew she had to go through with it. Straightening her back she answered,

 

“though I must confess I feel very nervous, I will proceed.”

 

OOC: thanks for your help. please respond anyway you like. i hope i did not NPC you to much.

OOC: No worries at all, thanks for being patient in waiting!

 

The corridors in the novice quarters were a sudden flurry of activity, girls clad in white dipping hasty curtseys, deep and respectful, as the soft tingling of bells indicated the Mistress of Novices' presence. Many eyed one another discreetly, wondering if perhaps someone had been caught out on a prank and were to be punished, or maybe one of them were to be honoured; called to be tested.

 

Faerzyne Grigory barely cast a sideways glance, giving the impression that she was not paying any heed to the girls she passed, yet were one to neglect bowing their knees in respect she would have reprimanded her in the blink of an eye. Perhaps make an example of her for the rest. It had been some time since she had had the pleasure of birching one of the chits, a public one would prove most amusing. The thought caused Faerzyne to smile inwardly, though her ageless features never changed from their serene mask. As she walked by she willed one of them to give her an excuse to punish them, but alas today was not her lucky day.

 

Upon reaching the right door, Faerzyne paused, a thread of air used to knock the door, rather than reducing herself to knocking on the door of these children. It was not a misbehaving novice that brought her to these halls, but indeed one she believed was ready to prove herself worthy of acceptance. Zeveria had been in her office many a time over the years, but of late the general consensus was that she was ready. Today would tell.

 

“Would you come in Farazyne Sedai?” Faerzyne raised a brow. Invited in to the dank squallor of a novice dorm? She did not think so, whatever the circumstance. “Not today child. You are being summoned to present yourself to be tested for acceptance. Follow me.” Faerzyne's tone was formal, and she turned on her heel, knowing Zeveria would obey the command without the need for Faerzyne to turn and check.

 

Their steps led them deep into the bowels of the Tower, a familiar path for the Gray sister, and what must seem like an eternal journey for the novice. The room Faerzyne led Zeveria to already held several sisters, ready to activate the ter'angreal that took up most of the space. Turning to the nervous looking girl, Faerzyne spoke, the words long ago committed to memory.

 

“Child there is something I need to tell you know before you go any further…There are two things that no woman hears until she enters this room. Once you begin, you must continue to the end. Refuse to go on, no matter your potential and you will be very kindly put out of the Tower with enough silver to support you a year, and you will never be allowed back. Second. To seek, to strive, is to know danger. You will know danger here. Some women have entered, and never come out. When the ter'angreal was allowed to grow quiet, they - were - not - there. And they were never seen again. If you will survive, you must be steadfast. Faltering leads to a failure." She paused, studying the girl. “This is your last chance, child. You may turn back now, and you will have only mark against you. Twice more will you be allowed to come here, and only at the third refusal will you be put out of the Tower. It is no shame to refuse. Many cannot do it their first time here. Now you may speak.”

 

“Though I must confess I feel very nervous, I will proceed.” In all her years as Mistress of Novices, Faerzyne had never seen a girl in Zeveria's position that was not at least a little nervous. Very well, the child would be tested. The sister beside the table spoke for the first time, and Faerzyne turned towards her, playing her part in the traditional ceremony.

 

“Whom do you bring with you, Sister?”

 

“One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance, Sister.”

 

“Is she ready?”

 

“She is ready to leave behind what she was, and, passing through her fears, gain Acceptance.”

 

“Does she know her fears?”

 

“She has never faced them, but now is willing.”

 

“Then let her face what she fears.”

 

Turning, Faerzyne spoke softly to Zeveria. "Undress, child." She waited silently as she did so, no emotion crossing her regal features. Once the novice was naked as the day she was born, Faerzyne guided her to the first arch with a gentle hand.

 

“The first time is for what was. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”

 

~Farzyne Grigory, MoN

Edited for spelling and grammer :P

 

 

IC:

For what was…be steadfast……

 

Blinking and looking around, Zeveria was confused. Where was she? Why did she remember being called Zeveria? Her name was A’isha. Looking around, she had no recollection of her surroundings. She was wearing a blue dress of light cotton with lace around the cuffs and hem; it was an old style from Andor. That’s odd, why would she think it’s old, her mother just made it for her. Touching her head she felt a bonnet of the same blue material as her dress. Feeling her bonnets ties against her cheeks, she tied them under her chin. Picking up her wicker basket, she left the thatch roofed house. Stepping out in the street the light hit her eyes and she blinked. This place was not familiar to her; it was a small town, thatch houses all around in tidy rows. Their were many children running around and calling to her. Waving to them she tried to get her sense of direction. Going by instinct she turned left and found herself in the town market. Arriving there reminded her that her mother wanted some vegetables bought for their dinner that night. Picking out the best carrots, onions, beets and others on the list she found in her pocket, she was about to by the items when she herds a familiar voice.

 

“A’isha, A’isha”

 

Turning to face the voice, she looked into the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen. Then she saw the rest of him, same height as her own 5’7, and about the same age as her. He was beautiful! With knees suddenly going weak she steadied herself.

 

“HI Briar! What is going on?”

 

“Me and some others are planning a picnic for this afternoon, do you want to come?”

 

Did she want to come? Of course, nothing would keep her from going. Blushing she told him she would meet them at the place appointed for the picnic. Walking home was like flying; she was so excited and could not stop feeling flushed. In fact she felt a bit dizzy. When she arrived home she saw her mother and gave her the basket of vegetables that she had bought. Wanting to ask about the picnic, A’isha opened her mouth and was not able to speak. Trying again, it felt like her tongue was three time its normal size, she sat down. Light, she felt dizzy!!! Then all that she could see was blackness.

 

“The fever is strong, we don’t know when…” A’isha herd someone speaking as she opened her eyes. Fever? What happened? Looking around she saw her mother and a doctor. They were standing by the fireplace on the other side of the room. Their backs were to her as they spoke in hushed tones. She was in her own bed and in a night shirt; she did not know what happened or why she was in bed, something about a fever? Maybe she had been sick. How long had she been here? In the corner of her eye she saw a glowing light, turning her head she saw a glowing arch. BE STEADFAST!

 

It all came tumbling in to her mind….the tower, the test, the warning that Farzyne had given her. She had to hurry. Getting sitting up slowly, she pulled the covers off and then bolted for the glowing figure in the air.

 

“A’isha! Come back, your sick.”

 

She kept running and as she was about to step through she felt a tug on her clothing and stumbled.

 

Light enveloped her.

 

-----------------------------------------------------

 

Almost falling on her knees, Zeveria steadied herself. Mind whirling…she felt a hand on her arm. Looking into the face of Farzyne she sighed. Standing straight she felt water drip on her head and down her back. She did not even hear the ceremonial words as she thought about her experience.

 

Was that really my great grandmother?[/i]

IC: Washed in bath of light Veria stepped into the next arch.

 

------------------------------------

 

Fog surrounded her. She could not see to step forward. She felt cool, the air did not stir. Putting her hands out in front of her she dared to step. Her foot fell firmly to the ground. Becoming aware of the ground beneath her she felt tile, the small kind that were used to make intricate patterns. Taking another step, she felt her foot land on the tiles again. Making her way slowly she made it to a door. Feeling around on the wood of the door she found the knob and turned it.

 

A flood of water knocked the breath out of her. She fell and was washed along the waters path. Veria's body was battered against walls and furniture that she could not see. Panic started to build within her as she had not control over what was happening to her. Hitting her head on a sharp edge she cried out in agony. Veria realized that all her fighting was making things worse. Floating along the tide of water she let herself be washed along, no longer struggling. At some point Veria noticed she was able to make out the forms of objects. The fog was dissipating or she was moving into an area where the fog did not reside.

 

For how long she was pushed along she did not know. Veria watched as tapestries flapped in the water hanging on as if their lives depended on it. She saw books and clothing in the water with her. She was in a tower of some sort. In what land she could not tell. Finally the water abated and she was able to stand. With the water streaming past her ankles Veria leaned against the wall. Her clothes felt heavy and threatened to pull her down. Looking at the tiles and on the floor and her general surroundings she put together where she was. She was in Tar Valon, in the White Tower! What was she doing here and why did she recognise the fact that that was she was. Then a thought thundered in her head...

 

"The way back will come but once. Be steadfast"

 

This thought forced its way into her thoughts and made her knees shake. Memories flooded her mind. Classes she had attended, punishments reviewed and friends made.

 

"The way back will come but once. Be steadfast"

 

She was in the arches!! She needed to move fast. Searching with her eyes, Veria looked to see if she could find the arch within her sight. She had no such luck. Her legs being a bit steadier she walked to different rooms and looked inside each. Not finding what she sought she walked faster. Her clothes still dripped with water. Trying to wring out what water she could, Veria continued on.

 

Turning down a staircase she heard a commotion at the bottom of the stairs. a Woman’s voice screamed and then went silent. Chills ran up Veria's spine and she ran down the stairs, embracing the source. Not knowing what she would do with her limited ability she kept on. What she saw at the end of the stairs was haunting. A woman lay there in a pool of blood. Her throat had been cut. Stepping away from the corpse she surveyed the area. There was no sign of who had done this. Moving slowly so as not to attract attention she turned to go up the stairs. Quick as a flash she ran up the stairs.

 

When she reached top she ran down the hall and prayed to the light that the arch would appear soon. Slowing down for breath she saw another turn ahead. Stopping at the corner she looked around it cautiously. With out warning, Veria felt something cold and hard softly run up her back. Whipping around, she saw a tall man. He was ugly with pock marks on his face and stringy hair. His eyes where black and dead looking. He looked at her and grinned, showing his rotten teeth. As he spoke, he twirled his knife in his hand.

 

"Thought you could get away? Unfortunately for you, you were wrong."

 

A look of rage contorted his face and in a split second he was lunging at her. Without thought Zeveria threw up her hands to defend herself. Feeling a rush of wind surround her, Veria herd a thud and a curse. Opening her eyes, she saw the man splayed out on the floor a few feet away. Then a golden glow appeared down the hallway. She had to go past the man who was trying to kill her.

 

Hoping instinct would help her; Zeveria dropped her hands and concentrated. Imagining in her mind a net of air she wove the pattern and strengthen it with earth threads. She threw it at the man and in lay over him. The pocked faced man's curses became louder as he struggled with her net. Running past him without any further thought, she headed to the arch. Not letting her eyes waiver from the golden glow she ran. After a minute she noticed she was not getting any closer. It was farther down the hall than she thought.

 

Thump! Thump!

 

Footfalls where coming from down the hall in front of her. A woman in black pants and over coat turned the corner and spotted her. A snarl replaced the smile that was there only seconds before.

 

"Carl you piece of cat dirt!" she exclaimed. She turned her attention to Veria and looked at her. "Well you sure are a sneaky one aren’t you? I think your the last one, so don't struggle and it will be painless." With that the woman slid out two knifes that where hidden in her sleeves. Running at Veria, the woman jumped. She grabbed her and pulled her to the ground. Rolling around on the ground Veria did not give in easily. She was not trained in physical fighting or any fighting for that matter. She was the weaker one and was loosing fast. The woman cut her in several places and Veria was bleeding down her arms and face.

 

Suddenly the woman stopped and went heavy. Veria had just gained a bit of an advantage and was on top of the woman. During the struggle her attacker had lost one of her knifes and the two of them were fighting over the last one. In a turn of events Veria flipped the woman and the knife they were struggling over went home. Climbing off her attacker Veria could not breathe. Looking down on her, Veria could see knife in the woman's heart.

 

Breathing heavily, Veria looked down the hall. The glow was starting to shimmer and fade. Frantic, she ran as hard and fast as she could. Jumping through, she lost contact with the power and was washed in a bath of light.

Shaking and completely unnerved by her last arch...Veria fell to her knees as she came out of the light. Sobbing she did not feel the cleansing water of the words that were spoken by the sister performing the ceremony? Hands pulled her to unsteady feet and moved her along to the next arch.

 

"You are doing fine. The next is for what will be. Be steadfast" spoke the MoN quietly

 

Nodding her head, Veria said nothing. She looked at the arch and took a deep breath. What was before her she did not know...so far she could not have foretold anything that had happened within that silvery glow. Stepping forward she put her right foot first and went threw.

 

_________________________________________

 

Battle raged all around her. Totally disorientated Veria almost slipped of her galloping horse. Holding on tightly she followed the person in front of her. In her head she could feel a presence. It was new and it took Veria a moment to realise she could sense the man she was following. He was tired but alert, stressed and he had a cut on his arm. His name came to her as they slowed and came to a stop...Mikhal...that was it.

 

"I think we lost them." said Mikhal

 

"Where are we?" asked Veria

 

"In the North of Kandor...fighting trollocs hordes. They have been an infestation for the past year...you do not remember?"

 

It then all came to her...the wars and the death. The situation was a nightmare. She had been here 10 months with her warder. They had been near death a few times but had pulled through. Denniem Sedai, a green and advisor to the kandori king, teased that Veria should have been Green.

 

More memories flooded her mind as she sat a little slumped in her saddle. She remembered finding clues to her families past. The secret that her mother alluded to. Veria had made very little head way in regards to this "secret"...in all her studies she found nothing but dead ends. The "secret" involved her great grandmother Handrealla's disappearance may years ago. Her father never forgave his grandmother for deserting the family. Veria found that this was why Veria's family moved to Amadacia. The question was what had the falling out been about. Veria had spoken to her father about 20 years ago before he had died and he would not talk to her about it...he barely tolerated her presence. It was quite the puzzle. The only thing that she found that was useful was an old portrait of her ancestor. From the picture Veria could see where she got a lot of her looks from...her grandmother had red tresses and the piercing grey eyes that were a family trait. There was a feeling that Veria got from the picture that had always made her wonder. There was a look of cruelty to the woman...something in her expression and squint of her eyes.

 

Feeling a tug on her neck Veria was brought out of her memory. Gripping her neck Veria took her hand away to find blood on her hand. Mikhal instantly grabbed the bridal to Veria's horse, Helmswheel, and ran. He jumped onto his horse and set on a gallop. Veria looked back and saw that a heard of trollocs had rushed upon them and were now chasing them. Mikhal gestured for Veria to move up beside him...once she was closer to him he spoke...

 

"We can not out run them...We have to fight."

 

"This is rolling country...get us to a height and we will be in a position to do some damage!" Veria said with a grin

 

"As you wish!" Mikhal responded with an eager look.

 

A few minutes later they crested a hill and placed themselves... Looking in the direction they had just come. The hoard stopped at the bottom of the hill and Veria could hear the roaring and shouting from the stomach turning sight before her. Embracing the source Veria started to hurl fireballs down on to the horribly frightening crowd.

 

Veria felt a distant feeling of channelling. It was coming from within the group. Dreadlords...

 

A fireball whizzed passed Mikhals head and he had to dive to the ground to dodge it. It left black scorch mark behind them. Focusing, Veria sent a hail storm of fireballs and then worked on lighting. She took out a good number of the trollocs, but not the one that was channelling.

 

Suddenly the remaining hoard charged up the hill. Mikhal drew his sword and readied himself. Redoubling her efforts Veria took out about 50 more before they surrounded them. They faced about 35 trollocs and the dread lord. Mikhal kept the trollocs back but it was a battle between Veria and the channeler. Veria could see the weaves so she knew it was a woman. The channeler threw severing sharp threads of air at Veria. Veria blocked it each time. Veria tried to knock the woman out of her saddle with clubs of air. That was not working...finally Veria wove water and earth into the ground beneath the channelling woman. The ground shot up like a water spout. Horse and rider toppled over and landed on the ground. In a split second, Veria had the woman shielded and tied up in flows of air.

 

A most intense feeling of pain and sorrow took Veria. She wanted to retch. It was then that she felt the hollow space in her mind that held Mikhal. Turning she saw her warder on the ground and about to be disembowelled by a couple of trollocs. Losing her sense of reason, Veria tied off the flows holding the channeler and let loose fireballs and razor sharp flows of air. When the last Trolloc was finally dead....Veria fell to her knees and was close to faint. A slivery glow shone through her fingers as they held her head.

 

'Be steadfast'

 

She was startled by the voice that just sounded so clearly in her mind. It must be madness, she was under extreme stress and it was starting to crack her mind. Shaking her head to clear it of the voice she stood and approached the female channeler and for the first time got a good look at her. Veria's heart started to pump and jump into her throat...

 

The woman before her was a perfect image of her Great grandmother. The red hair and cruel grey eyes were right in front of her. Her knees where about to give when she once again saw the glow...it was in the shape of an arch...

 

‘The way will come but once.’

 

Then is come to her...the realization made her knees buckle and she fell to her knees. She could feel the cold rocky ground under her knees and the rocks that embedded in her flesh. The pain was not noticed. Her mind whirled and spun. Her whole reality was skewed.

 

“You...” Veria started as she pointed to the woman laying on the ground “is your name Handrealla?”

 

The woman looked shocked and tears fell down her face.

 

“IS YOUR NAME HANDREALLA!” Screamed Veria

 

The woman’s eyes looked like they would fall out of her head. She finally nodded her head yes. Veria was incensed. She jumped up and stepped closer t the woman. She was tempted to kill the woman. she was torn...her blood... a darkfriend...a dreadlord...a channeler dedicated to the evil one. It was a dishonour to her family. She now was sure that she knew why her father would not talk about his grandmother. This woman sickened her.

 

The warm glow came again but no voice this time. She could see the silver arch and moved to go for it. She had to make up her mind...what was her true reality. Was this madness or was she being tested for her acceptance. Walking over to the arch she heard voices from the other side.

 

‘She has been to long...’

‘Hold a bit longer...’

‘We can not hold much longer...’

 

This was it...she needed to go for the arch. She needed to get back. Looking back at her great grandmother, she felt revulsion like never before.

 

She stepped through the silver glow and was swallowed by the light.

 

___________________________

 

Coming out of the embrace of light Veria shuddered as the event of her last arch replayed in her mind. The water being poured over Veria was unregistered. Only when a steely voice spoke was she brought back to the moment. She knelt to the Ammy and lowered her head; two more chalices were poured over her. The words lost to her.

 

“You are sealed to us now, Daughter.” The mother pulled her up and kissed her cheek. A ring was placed upon her finger and the Amy turned away and left the room with her escort of sisters. They looked like a rainbow flowing out of the door.

 

That was the end? That was it? Veria looked around and realised she was still naked. The MoN came over with a long towel and Veria dried herself. She was given a dress with a banded hem and cuffs. Veria dressed numbly and did not look at anyone. Walking to her room escorted by the MoN she did not think...she did not want to think.

 

Entering her room she saw that her candles where burning. She closed the door and fell on her bed. She lay there for awhile still and unthinking and unfeeling. She did not know when the tears came but they did not stop until she fell asleep sometime as the sun came up.

 

OOC: *wipes thew sweat off her brow* FFEww, i never thought i would get this done. :) :D I hope this arch made sense...i am very tired right now.