Cass

... ~●~ The early afternoon sun shone bright over the Queen's Stand. Echoes of lively music, the buzz of conversations and the joyous squeals of children combined on the breeze to fill every corner of the yard with an air of vibrant energy. Children dashed between tables their, faces smeared with the sweetness of honey cakes and sticky fruit. Adults danced around the maypole or toasted the day, the Light and each other with tankards of apple ale and hearty cheers. The wind wove through the celebration, tugging loose strands of hair, greenery and the free tails of maypole ribbons alike, setting all of them fluttering in the sunlight. As it ruffled the leaves of the trees that bordered the green, Joem and Amelie shared a smile across the yard, moving through the throng separately with trays of ale and platters of roasted meats, their faces glowing with the joy of the day. Moving on, the wind swirled through the stable yard, gently teasing the manes and tails of the white-and-chestnut cart-horses therein. The four-socked mare snorted, shaking her head as the breeze tickled her ears, and the other horse flicked her tail lazily, but did not stop her grazing for a second. Onward the wind moved, away from the yards and into the apple orchard beyond. The leaves rustled in response to its touch, a soothing murmur that blended with the distant notes of music and cheer from the village. The branches of the apple trees swayed gently, setting the fruit swinging in return. Pressing forward, the breeze carried the scent of apples past the orchard’s edge and the property boundary, into the denser woods beyond. Here the trees grew taller, their trunks thicker and their branches more gnarled. Sunlight struggled to break through the canopy and branches, and the shadows spread deeper. The air was thick in the Summer heat despite the remnants of breeze. By now the sound of the wind was barely a whisper, the echoes of music and laughter were long gone. A mass of thick, thorny bushes sprawled among the trees, wild and tangled, an almost impenetrable barrier of twisted branches and razor-sharp thorns. A final breath of wind stirred the bushes with just enough force to reveal a glimpse of stone hidden beyond. And then the wind was no more. Behind the thorns and twisted branches stood an immense stone wall, ancient and intricately carved with patterns of leaves and vines that seemed to shift and move in the dim light all by themselves. Each leaf and tendril was so finely detailed that they appeared almost alive - as if they had grown from the stone itself. The center of the wall was more beautifully carved than the rest. With the passing of the wind, a single leaf, as agelessly delicate and perfect as all the rest, seemed to wake. And then, without a sound, the avendesora leaf shifted downwards in position. And stopped. The stone wall, once solid and unyielding, began to shift. With a deep, grinding groan, it split down the middle and swung open. Between the parted stone, an almost dully reflective surface shimmered, followed by a void so dark that it seemed to swallow the light itself. Once, long ago, such entrances to the Ways had shone like mirrors, reflecting the sun and sky with a brilliance that rivaled the brightest day. But in this time, in this place, only darkness remained within. And from that darkness, the Shadow spilled out into the world. ● The air was tainted thick with the stench of decay and rot and a sense of something foul and menacing as the first creature emerged from the Waygate. Pale and eyeless, the myrddraal slipped out of the ways and into the waiting shadows of the wood with lightening speed and predatory grace. Its black cloak hung motionless over black armour, despite the speed of movement. It waited for just a moment, its head shifting this way and that, its long fingers twitching in anticipation. Behind it came the Trollocs—a flood of monstrous forms that surged from the darkness like a tide of nightmares, their thick hides impervious to the sharp barbs that greeted them at the exit. Bestial faces twisted into snarls, crude weapons slashing and tearing at everything in their path. Soft earth shifted beneath their weight as they raced through the dark forest, and into the orchard ahead. ● Be steadfast - Be steadfast - Be steadfast. The rhythm of the bay's galloping hooves pounded the packed earth of the road, each strike matching that of the words echoing in Calia's mind. The horse ran with her neck outstretched and hooves thundering, flicking dirt and small road debris backwards in their wake, flecks of foam forming around the bit in her mouth. The Aes Sedai kept the reins loose and kept her own eyes forward, back long and elbows tucked close to her knees as the wind bullied her face and whipped her hair and clothes about her almost viciously. Her focus remained unyielding—straight ahead, toward the looming dread she couldn’t yet see in any detail but could feel - again - in the very marrow of her bones. Elessar and Stormbreaker flew by her side, the sound of their passage a heavier, yet just as steady drumbeat backing up her own. Be steadfast - Be steadfast -Be steadfast. Then - a thunderous CRACK! and a resounding ROAR! split the sky ahead! A thick, black plume of smoke poured into the sky from the edge of Four Kings. Calia's heart lurched, cold dread mingling with the fire in her veins. She knew, with a sickening certainty, the source of that explosion—the brewery. Her father's biggest non-family station of pride and joy, built to such precision, to his own design, mostly by his own hands. The brewery. Just a stone's throw or a trolloc's dash away from the yard where the entire village had been at play. The urgency in her chest grew into a fierce, burning ache, urging her onward. She rode with purpose, her thoughts honed to a single, desperate point. Be steadfast! ● Bark and branches shattered into splinters. Apples, ripe and ready for harvest, flew from their peaceful boughs, red and green skins splitting from the forces that assailed them. Sweet flesh was crushed to pulp beneath hooves and clawed feet as bestial howls and cheers filled the air. Juice seeped into the mud and dirt. A cruel smile twisted the thin lips of the Myrddraal so that it's stained and jagged teeth were entirely prominent. With a slow, deliberate motion, it raised one skeletal hand and pointed forward, urging all the linked Shadow Brothers on. In the orchard, the last of the apples fell as the screams of terror began, and bright red skins split open as they hit the ground. ● Her heart pounded in her chest, a relentless throb that matched the ache in her legs from gripping the horse’s sides. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, for relief, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—stop. Elessar and Stormbreaker remained by her side, the bond humming with the force of protection. Calia clung to the mantra that had driven her this far. -Be steadfast- And forced her breath to come in controlled, deliberate patterns, forced herself to calm and focus her mind. The world was a blur around her—trees, fields, the sky—nothing but streaks of color as she rode hard. But the dark sense of the horrors and shadowspawn ahead remained. Until, quite suddenly, it was - mostly - gone. She choked the sharp intake of air that interrupted the concentrated rhythm and drew another, more controlled breath in its place. It made very little sense that such a large presence would just ... vanish after reaching Four Kings, and she knew better than to fully relax at the change. The vanishing did not guarantee the end of the terror. And she - needed to be there. Needed to face her fears head-on, and do what she was trained and determined to do - prepare for all of the battles that lay ahead. Be steadfast. She glanced at Elessar by her side. And they galloped on. ● FINALLY, just ahead was the last twist in the road - the stretch where it would open up beside the Luin boundary - the point where, one way or another, the nightmare would become more clear. Calia coughed, her lungs spasming and eyes streaming at the assault of smoke and ash billowing in their direction. Still, she did not slow. Instead, she took a calculated risk, embraced the source and wove nets of Air and Spirit as fast as she could for herself, Elessar and the horses, tying them off around each of their heads in the hopes that they would help. Almost as one, the Aes Sedai and Warder wheeled their galloping mounts around the corner. The - her - their- orchards - were entirely on fire! She blocked the images from her mind. The horse yards were on fire! 'Socksie' and her cart-mate raced the flames amidst a rain of ash - eyes rolling, manes and tails flying, embers flashing in their faces and across their hides and making them rear, buck and wheel in sheer panic. She hardened her heart. Leant forward as Stormbreaker and the bay's hooves pounded the road, swirls of barely-settled ash lifting in their wake. Light, help us! - it was more of an exclamation than a prayer. They rounded the corner at full gallop. To find that the brewery, once a proud centerpiece of the Queen's Stand, was now a collapsed and smoldering pile of ruin. Beyond the broken brewery, the inn was also on fire and beyond the point of no return. Flames licked voraciously up the walls, and black smoke bellowed from the roof. Oh, Light. Be steadfast. Be steadfast. Be steadfast! They reached the gate and Calia flung herself from the saddle, embracing the source and storming down the path. She knew what to expect. Knew what she was likely to see. But still it did not make it any easier to face. She refused to falter in her strides. Please, please don't let it be real - don't let it be too late! This time it was a prayer. Her heart shattered as she entered the yard, her prayer unanswered. They were face with the old nightmare. As real and as familiar as it had ever been - in every single detail. Only this time, Calia knew, there would be no 'way back' appearing in the midst of the horror. No way to simply leave everything behind and return to Tower life. This was the what shall come to pass. The sounds of the merry-making, the laughter, and the music that had filled this place such a short time before were replaced by the roar of the flames and the cries of the dying. Bodies lay scattered across the green - the same green where children had danced and played only hours earlier. The lower half of the maypole lay broken on the ground, the upper half skewered half a dozen bodies, bloodied and broken. The Sunday ribbons, originally so vibrant and full of life, were now charred and torn, the remains of them fluttering weakly under the weight of gore and oppressive heat. Not even the slightest whiff of sweet apple on the Summer breeze remained. There was only smoke, and ash. As she had known it would be. And there. On the edge of the 'green' that had never existed: It was not her Da, face-down in the grass with that once-sandy-blonde hair sticking in every which way without the control of it's usual cap. It was not her Da, trampled, with a makeshift spear sticking up from his back. And it was not her Ma, face down several paces away from his body, her arms extended at an unnatural angle. And, by extension, it was also not their child, not her littlest sister Thayet, lifeless between them. But it was somebody else's child. And it was Joem. And it was Amelie. Tears rolled down Calia's face. Too late. Too late. Too late. A shrill scream from somewhere closer to the center of town cut through the crack of flames. Be steadfast. Calia stood, grateful for the strength of Elessar nearby. She caught his gaze and embraced the Source again, this time not caring who or what might sense it and respond. She knew what was to come. And she knew that afterwards, she would not stay. Could not stay. Because other duties called, and the awful truth was this place was no longer her priority, no longer home. But this time, she thought, I will not leave before resolution. Before revenge. She drew deep, and marched towards the scream. ● The sun had disappeared below the horizon, leaving everything in darkness by the time Calia and Elessar were alone on the road again. Exhausted in more ways than one, Calia pushed the fragmented images of the afternoon's and evening's events out of her mind, focusing only on getting to the next place of rest, as she knew they must. Myrddraal and a handful of trollocs; a flash of light, imploding into a thin vertical slice of twisted air that disappeared leaving only woven residue she could not comprehend - faces of Four Kings villagers in various stages of fear, shock, anger and disbelief, and - in the case of a few of the previous night's customers, shocked recognition and a myriad of other emotions as she and Elessar arrived, as she fought, healed, departed. Socksie and her cart-mate, terrified, consoled. The sounds of four sets of hoofbeats plodding together on the road as they left everything behind. Flashes of memory chased her, but that was all there was for now - flashes. Memories with holes. Later, she knew, the nightmares would probably come. And she would let them. Such was the life of an Aes Sedai. But somehow, though there was less light in the world for now and forever more, and there was fresh pain - not everything in her nightmares had come to pass - the Shadows had not taken everything this time - and she had not left until it was right. And, as weary as they were, there was still the sounds of two sets of hoofbeats now, still side-by-side, still steadfast. She held onto that thought until they stopped and she dropped, beyond exhausted, from the saddle, to stand, weakly, by her bay's drooping head. She felt Elessar start in her direction, and then she let go, and everything turned to black. ~~~●~~ ~

~ ~ ● ~ ~ Calia crouched at the base of the Great Green Apple tree, setting the last of the honour rocks back into place beside the others. Her fingertips brushed lightly over the dents and knocks in the bark of the tree, lingered a moment longer over each of the names carved into the otherwise smooth, time-worn stones. …Kaylan Morin…Joesh Luin…Shem Luin…Aaran Metsar… Each name was carved deep into her heart as well as the stones. Sometimes the weight of the memories there left her bruised and battered, scarred like the bark of the tree. Still, every tap of stone to tree impacted and encouraged new and stronger growth on behalf of those named. And, as each of them had done for themselves in life, so Calia continued the tradition with every visit. ~ ~ ● ~ ~ Today though, even after she had lifted and replaced the older stones, Calia had smiled a little brighter as she crouched at the base of the tree, watching Elessar Telcontar Gaidin add his name and strength to the tree and the stones, her heart and mind full with the experiences and conversations they had shared so far. He, of all people, understood. This was what they fought for, after all - for trees like this one, like those by the fence where they had bonded. For the orchards, pastures, field, forests and rivers - for all of the connections to Life and the Light that nurtured it. Calia's gaze skipped from the rocks. It followed along the deep, strong roots of the tree, to the branches reaching outwards and towards the light and to the bright green fruit growing on every bough - and then to the gaidin who stood respectfully by her side. "The weight of those stones and memories, the bruises to heart and tree - so much more than that remains," Calia thought. Knowing they would leave Four Kings later that day, and brimming with gratitude for the tangible connections of past, present and future Life before her, Calia opened herself to Saidar. With graceful movements, she wove threads of Water from the air and warmed them with gentle wisps of Fire and Spirit. She let her weave flow from her hands to the soft earth around the tree's roots. Then, thanking Light, she released her hold on the Source. Heart more full than heavy, she stepped from the shade of the tree into the early Sunday morning light, heading out of the orchard with Elessar by her side. ~ ~ ● ~ ~ The sun had almost reached its zenith, and was casting a golden Summer warmth over the bustling yard of the Queen's Stand. Calia, dressed for riding Southward in a long-sleeved green shirt and matching, wide, flowing pants woven from cotton and the slightest hint of silk, stood at the edge of the yard, watching as the Sunday festivities unfolded. Already, there was a lively gathering of villagers and visitors in the section of the yard surrounding the alehouse and adjoining the orchard that served as the Sunday 'green'. They gathered in hues of Green and Yellow and Sunday best, their laughter and voices rising with the background music of the minstrels. Strands of green foliage continued to flutter in the rafters of the inn and the alehouse, and the tails of brightly coloured ribbons twirled around the maypole, swirling in the lightest wind. It was a sight that could have done any small town in Andor proud - and Cal couldn't help but smile at that thought. The town had never had a village green when she was a child - and it still didn't, not truly. But Joem and Amelie had managed to transform this section of yard into a welcoming, vibrant centre of festivity. More than once she caught herself marveling that this was Four Kings. When the sun finally reached its full height of the Day, Calia cheered along with the chorus of music and laughter that swelled around her. As the trio of minstrels launched into a lively tune even more vibrant than those of the night before, children of all ages squealed with joy and rushed toward the maypole, their excitement palpable. Calia's grin widened. Now, she knew, the Sunday celebrations would truly begin. And now, she thought, catching Elessar's eye and nodding decidedly, it was high time for the two of them to leave. Duty called. The Wheel waited for no woman, and neither would the Shadow. Calia turned a slow circle, her eyes lingering on every detail in the yard - the fluttering ribbons, the sunlight shining over the orchard, the alehouse brewery and the inn, the scent of apples in the air - committing the scene to memory. The Warder and Aes Sedai made their way across the yard together, raising their arms in unison and nodding farewell to Joem and Amelie as they passed. Details of their earlier goodbyes danced through Calia's mind. "Thank you," Amelie had said simply, curtsying deeper than was necessary with an air of absolute sincerity. Then, reaching into her apron pocket, she had withdrawn a letter and added, quietly, "Please. Could you give this to Thayetta, with our love?" Her blue eyes had shimmered with unshed tears as she lifted her gaze to search that of the Aes Sedai's, but she offered the letter to Calia with a server's steady hand and a quiet strength in her posture. Joem had stood beside her with similar quiet strength, his hand resting on her shoulder in silent support. Calia had accepted the letter with a nod, tucking it carefully into her sadlebags, securing it with care. She hadn't promised she could deliver it quickly, only that she would certainly try. "You have our thanks, Great-Aunt Calia Sedai," Joem had said, bowing his head and his familiar-yet-too-young-face respectfully, his voice steady, "For everything - And you too, Warder Elessar. May the Light Shine on you both." Now, Catching Amelie's eye as they departed, Calia patted her saddlebag meaningfully and inclined her head, smiling one more time at the woman who had worked so many marvels with this inn. ~ ~ ● ~ ~ As difficult as it always was to leave, when the Sedai and Warder reached the stable-yards, Calia couldn't help but laugh. Four horses, not two, stood whickering eagerly at the gate, ears pricked forward, and prancing, ready for a ride. Her bay mare stood alongside Elessar’s Stormbreaker, and beside them, the two large chestnut cart-horses with their beautiful, flaxen manes. One of them, with four white stockings, and an unusual white marking on her rump, so closely mimicked the old rag-doll of Thayet's that Calia had secretly given her the same name the moment they'd met. "We can't take you all, I'm afraid!" she called, much to the big horses' apparent dismay. "But, I do have something else you lot will enjoy!" she patted the bag of green apples tucked into her saddlebags and the horses perked back up, flicking their ears and huffing in anticipation of the tasty consolation. Calia laughed again as she handed out the treats, each horse eagerly taking their share. 'Socksie' nudged at her pockets, searching for more apples, before Calia was even done saddling her bay. “None there, big girl,” Calia murmured. The big horse gave a big huff right up in her face in response. Cal huffed back and pressed her cheek into the horse's neck, enjoying the gentle connection and the reminder of the simple pleasures that made Life so precious. Finally, everything was prepared and there were no more spare apples to be divvied out. With a last goodbye to the cart-horses, a lingering glance at the inn, the orchard and the gathering of people, Calia drew a deep breath, mounted her bay mare and turned onto the road. Such was the life of an Aes Sedai. ~ ~ ● ~ ~ She and Elessar set off, riding side by side down the southern road as they left Four Kings and their new memories behind. As they rode, the sounds of Sunday merry-making followed them on the wind, and Calia couldn’t help but smile, savoring the sounds as much as the sight of every row of apple trees beyond the boundary fence. Calia and Elessar rode in companionable silence for some time, each lost in their own thoughts. Though a part of Calia's mind remained alert, and wary of what might lie ahead, she found that her heart was, perhaps surprisingly, at peace. The visit to Four Kings had been good, for more reasons than one. And much less painful than the last. The road stretched out before them, still uncommonly peaceful and quiet under the midday sun. Calia smiled, grateful to have her gaidin by her side, letting the gentle sway of her mare’s gait and the warmth of the sun on her back lull her into a sense of tranquility. She breathed deep, wishing she could still smell the apples on the wind. And then, she sat, bolt upright in her saddle, shocked to the core by a SUDDEN sense of SHADOW S-H-A-T-T-E-R-I-N-G her peace. Eyes wide with realisation and horror, she looked to her gaidin for the briefest of seconds, knowing he would feel it too. > ! > ! > !! SHADOWSPAWN !!< ! < ! < ! The sense she felt did not let her know what type, or the numbers the feeling underscored, only that there were MANY, and that they were some distance behind. Calia glanced back, her heart frozen in her chest, knowing the basic truth of the nightmare even before she turned. And sure enough, the scene behind her was just as her heart had known it would be. Black smoke rose in an impossibly thick column, darkening the sky and choking out the Light over Four Kings. Everything below that was on FiRe. Without a word, Calia whirled her mare around and kicked her into the hardest gallop of each of their lives, racing back down the road the way they had come. The only thought in her head was NO! Screaming silently alongside a desperate, wordless prayer to whatever Light remained that she was wrong, that she had not seen all this before. That they were not destined to be too late, and that this was not going to be the same as the nightmare scenes she had endured in her Arches. In her test for the Shawl. And in a century of heart-breaking, reoccurring dreams. ~ ~ ● ~ ~ | | | |||||| | || || || ||| ||| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | The DAY spread softly across the world at first , but then the shroud of darkness slipped back over the Westlands, racing against the Sun - Just, perhaps- as the Creator had always intended, until the Shadows suddenly, somehow all now ||||||||||||||||||||||| | | | || |||| | || ||| || | || | | | | | | | ** appeared ** ||||||||||||||| | | |||| | |||| | ||| | || | | | | | | | | ** ( making the light left seem) small **

" OF LIFE . . ." ●● ● - ● - ● ●● | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | || | | | | | | | | | | | | | The day spread softly across the world at first , then the shroud of darkness slipped back, over the Westlands, racing against the Sun - Just, perhaps - as the Creator had always intended until the Shadows suddenly, somehow all now * appeared * |||||| |||||||||||||||| |||||||| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ||||| | | ● small ● | | | |||||| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ● - \ \/- ● -\/ / - ● Sunday shone over Four Kings, the growing daylight sweeping its way down the Caemlyn Road and along dusty side-streets, filling the ruts and rocky pot-holes with a soft golden glow, highlighting the quiet splendor of the feast-day morning. A gentle breeze lifted and drifted lazily around the town, wending over the mostly empty stables, horse-lots and plots of bare earth where merchants usually parked their wagons wheel to wheel. Traditionally, this was the only day of the year that the crossroads of Four Kings were ever so quiet and tranquil; the only time merchants and handlers rested and locals found respite from the endless clamour of shouts, calls, curses and work tied to the wagon trains passing to and from Caemlyn or Lugard and the westward mining towns in the Mountains of the Mist. Locals, and visitors who had stopped and stayed on in celebration, all made the most of the expected morning rest, sleeping off the night's ale and other blissful Summer indulgences in preparation for the day's festivities still to come. Not a single shout from a travelling wagoneer, nor a clanging hammer from a blacksmith could be heard. Occasionally the wind blew a low, wheezy moan or high breathy whistles through the narrow alleyways and tight gaps between buildings. Otherwise, as befitting the morning, the air moved as sleepily and quietly as everyone else, travelling in near silence over the various closed shutters and weathered, whitewashed boards of all the careworn wooden houses lining the street. On the far edge of the town however, the breeze licked its way over the fresh paint of the inn, alehouse and brewery of the Queen's Stand, playing easily across the yard between the buildings and dancing through the apple orchard as if it was the first of the many visitors expected there for Sun-day celebrations. At the whimsy of this gentle guest, strands of green foliage and other Summer decorations fluttered in the rafters of the buildings and tails of coloured ribbons twirled and drifted softly around the waiting maypole. Tiny wisps of wind and ash floated upwards from the cool remains of the evening's bonfire, intermittently adding a light and smoky twist to the otherwise fresh, apple-scented breeze... ~ ~.●.~ ~ The sweet aromas of apple orchard and brewery drifting through the room was as simultaneously arousing and comforting to her senses as it had ever been. And, yes - Sunday eve was supposed to be the time for being wide awake, for jumping over bonfires, dancing under stars and flirting - or more with potential lovers; for celebrating the spirit of Summer and the strength of love and Light - this she knew. Yes - Daylight was pressing against the back of the short curtains drawn across the upper-story shutters with increasing intensity, yet that in itself was easy enough to ignore - the glow permeating into the room remained pleasingly soft, and gentle. The pillows under her head were plump and kept their shape despite the weight that pressed upon them. The bed beneath had ample space, and then some. The bedsheets were almost impossibly luxurious against her skin. And yes - Sunday morn was supposed to be for rest. ...Yes! Theoretically, Calia knew this too. Much, much better than to be not sleeping, and focusing on other things, and a torrent of mixed emotions and thoughts, as she currently was. ~ ● ~:~ ● ~ Calia Sedai - once one of three young girls who had shared this very room in early childhood - was still not sleeping another wink, and it was not for a lack of trying. In blatant betrayal of her best intentions, her blue eyes kept flickering wide open. Her mind played along, dismissing the chance for more sleep and focusing instead on memory after memory after memory as she stared at the ceiling, or gazed around in the soft light and semi-dark of the once entirely familiar room... ~●~ There - the corner where she had often sat huddled with Kaylan: each braiding the other's long, long hair and pinching spots of colour into each other's cheeks, preparing for so many busy - and profitable - nights waiting on the tables. ~●~ Here, that line on the wall - the join of those two particular vertical wooden boards running down to what had been the almost-center of where their bed had been: the mark which Josiane had furiously declared a solid boundary 'to the exclusion of absolutely all other sibling belongings and/or bodies' for an entire, completely ridiculous, week! ~●~ The day Thayet had decided she was old enough, at eighteen months, to join Calia and Josiane in their room... The way she had climbed up onto the shared bed in a tangle of slipping blankets and a ScRaMbLe of scrawny limbs and sandy-blonde hair, one tiny fist clutching her rag-doll horse 'Socksie' tight. Her pale little Luin face shining full of pride before she turned and scampered over the then-mussed bedsheets to sit, absolutely stubbornly, against the far wall - refusing to be returned to her own cot in their parents' room down the hall ...Ever... The way, on that first day, she'd eventually fallen sound asleep, right there against the wall, her tiny thumb half-slipping from her peacefully slack, rosebud mouth, Socksie tight under her arm. The way she had cuddled into Calia every night thereafter, until the day Cal had left to follow Kaylan to the Tower. - ~ ● ~ - With that, Cal gripped the edge of the bedcovers and 'tssk'd with a slight shake of her head to prevent the rise of memories that would otherwise, like the Wheel of Time, roll inevitably on from there. Revisiting any of those difficult memories - the decades and decades of Luin family life that she'd sacrificed by choice; the tears and fights related to her decision; the too-rapid aging and passing of her sisters and parents; absolute absences in so many moments that mattered, from both sides; leaving her family, and this room, behind again and again - was beyond pointless. Such was the life of an Aes Sedai. Particularly a Sister of the Green, determined to make her choices and service count. And her choices were already made from the moment she'd passed the Arches and Aes Sedai tests, donning her ring and shawl, and understanding so deeply the magnitude of consequences linked with not actively fighting back, of letting the Shadow rest. Without further pause, she stood - and purposely exited the near-forgotten comfort of what was, once, hers. -●- She crossed the pre-packed room to the not-so-little, two-piece wooden wash-stand, tucked neatly into the far front corner. Catching sight of the mischievous contraption, she grinned just that little bit wider. The more intricate carvings couldn't be seen in the construction until one had a close up view, of course. But even at a distance, the two halves of the apple-shaped 'fruit bowl' (more practically speaking, the hinged and lidded water basin) were perfectly clear, balancing at what seemed a strange angle atop the upright 'water log' (realistically, the basin's stand). The latter stood about a span tall, appearing for all the world just like the bottom of a solid tree, right down to the various markings of bark cleverly disguising hidden hinges and the handles of the three separate sets of shelves in the 'trunk' - and the way it was, quite definitely, 'rooted' through the floor. ~ ● ~ Light knew where and how long the twins had hewn, hacked and sculpted this ... thing... in secret. Or how their fifteen-year-old selves had managed to install it, carved roots and all, into the floor of the girls' room - and the roof of the room below - without some sort of catastrophe! But... there it was... And there were Shem and Joesh, falling over themselves with laughter at their parents' attempt at seriously stern faces, and at Josiane's sharp recoil and squeal of shock as she reached for the sideways, stem-and-leaf shaped 'lid handle' of the hinged, apple-shaped bowl... - ~ ● ~ - The thing really was both a ridiculous monstrosity, and a beautiful work of art, Cal thought. Her gaze and fingers brushed quickly over the cool, polished wood and the most random, lifelike carvings on the basin lid - an assortment of tiny, puckered 'bug stings'; the spider and strings of web spread across the leaf part of the handle that had made Josi jump. And of course, the 'stem' - which on closer inspection was, very unmistakably the top half of an unreasonably large, half-emerged codling worm - complete with lifelike, ravenous pincers at the end of its overly lifelike, ugly head. Unceremoniously, Cal grabbed the absurd stick-bug, and swung the top half of the apple open over the hinge, thinking that perhaps the boys had missed twin callings as master carvers when they followed herself and Kaylan to Tar Valon, and into the life of Warders and Aes Sedai... She bent her head, cupping her hands - and splashed a shock of cold water onto her face. ...Or, perhaps - as the 'boys' had never missed a chance to tease her - perhaps such thoughts just proved she was getting old and emotionally senile, despite her 'ageless' 'Aes Sedai skin'. Grinning at the thought, she pulled a silly face at her reflection in the looking glass above the basin and thanked the Light that brothers and Warders existed to keep Aes Sedai so .. sane and humble? Yes, the life of an Aes Sedai was hard. And yes, she would leave her once-home here, again, today - knowing her duty was to that Aes Sedai life, and presently, to hunting down the Seal in the South before the growing Shadow. That could not, however, be all there was to life these days, however. Despite the dire situations they were facing, Cal had found that since her bonding with Elessar, she had actually been feeling much more 'free' to remember and reconnect with the good times in life. And she was genuinely happy in his company. Yes difficult as Aes Sedai life could be, it was becoming increasingly clear to her once more now that she was bonded to her gaidin, that continuing to allow at least a small level of connection with humanity where possible was actually, in some ways, was absolutely still beneficial. Beneficial, yes. Worth it? That remained to be seen. But she was starting, again, to believe so. Last night's 'pitching in' had been another example of this re-learning, for her. Despite the lack of sleep and the long hours of 'work' she had thoroughly enjoyed pitching in and helping Amelie with the busy night. Even Elessar's startled response to her cheeky wink would have been enough to make her night. It had certainly been a far cry from the pressure and satisfaction of beating back a hoard of myrddraal and beastly trollocs, darkfriends and/or other shadowspawn - but it really had been good to get her hands 'dirty', and to 'bounce back' a moment to her younger, more carefree days. When she didn't know that the Dark One was, very, very surely, bit-by-bit actively breaking out of his bonds and threatening to bring the Last Battle upon them at any moment. ● She shook her head again to clear it. In any case. This trip 'home' had done her wonders - Even with the lack of sleep, she felt re-energised and ready to continue the journey South. In fact, she was already packed. And she would not be alone, tracking and fighting whatever Shadows they found in the South. As the buzz of the bond reminded her constantly, Elessar would be by her side. So. They would be leaving in the next few hours, just after breaking bread 'early' with the Luins, and giving thanks to the midday sun. Cal was glad that this trip had landed on this 'longest' day, making it at least slightly easier to juggle the need for rest and connection, and the need for speed in getting to the South. No. She was most definitely not about to wallow around on a Sunday. Age was just a number, and Sundays were made for better kinds of loopy than that! There was enough time left still to enjoy these once-familiar and much-changed surrounds, to honour the lighter side of Life before Elessar and herself marched on against the gathering dark. There was day and Light enough left in this world today for it to make a difference -. And Calia Sedai, now re-bonded, this time to a Gaidin who understood both sides of the battles she frequently fought; once one of five kids who had lived at this inn in the years gone by, intended to refresh the roots closest to her heart, and to make the most of it all! .\ ● ~ ● ~ ~ ● ~ ~● ~ ● /. ''| /< > '/< ~ ~ ~ ' ●====● ~ ~ ~ Cal had grinned, a flush of elation and well-being flooding her, and probably the bond, when she'd realised she really would tell Elessar as much as he wanted to know about this place and her memories in it - without hesitation, when she'd invited him to accompany her through the orchard. It wasn't just that, knowing his interest in stories, history and the poetic aspects of life, the Sedai hoped her gaidin warrior-poet would appreciate the things she could share with him here. It was that, as when she'd first felt that deeper sense and connection with this man through the bond - the oneness of their their determination, drive and sense of duty and respect for life - her heart had swelled, yet again, at this newest example of how this 'new' bond actually, truly, really 'felt right' in her heart. And for a while now, she had been feeling quite 'settled' in the bond, despite herself, and very happy to share! Besides Kaylan, who'd been born next door and practically grew up with Calia and her family at the inn, Aaran had been the only 'non-Luin' person she had ever felt close enough to to even consider having them know the stories of her home, the inn, these trees and this orchard. For such a long time, the only thing that the rest of her life had seemed any good for was her strength in the One Power, and her ability to fight the Shadow. That, at least, she had never let slide. But, After Aaran had passed, Cal had been so sure she would never invite anyone into these grounds, never share those close-to-heart stories again. Yet, here she was. And here was Elessar. And inviting him here had been easy; especially with the feast-day tied in - it really was the perfect day to honour their bond, along with the strength of Summer, and the Light that each of them had chosen to serve. Yes, it felt easy, and very much like the right thing to do. Even before she'd extended the invitation for the walk through the orchard with a smile, her mind had immediately skipped ahead to the happy, driven drum of her heart - and to the two most 'special trees'' , and before she even knew it, without even the slightest of hesitation, she'd specifically invited him to visit the two of those also. 7/<> ~~~ ● ~~~ For Calia, there was nothing quite like this end of the apple orchard. It had been planted on the far Southern edge of Four Kings, running almost all the way to the present-day boundary line of the large Luin property, far before her time. She was glad to have found a moment to walk once again under the ancient branches here, to simply enjoy the peaceful moments of the morning there, listening to the leaves rustling in the breeze and taking in the the sweet, tart, earthy smells of soil and ripening apples. Not for the first time, Calia thanked the Light beyond measure that she had been fortunate enough to be born into this property in Four Kings, and not one of the much, much, much smaller plots of 'land' that crowded at the crossroads, with absolutely nowhere else to escape to but the chaos of the dusty streets. From her infancy to her early teen years, this particular stretch, with the oldest groves apple groves on the property, had always been her personal refuge, and her favourite place in all of Four Kings. The trees closer to the inn had been here only since the the Luin family built the inn, and even that was some good number of generations before Calia ever came along. But these trees? Cal looked up at the lighter and lighter sky through the gently flittering leaves. She breathed in the scents again and smiled. These trees, were different. Cal had relished telling Elessar during their wanderings together, that these beauties were definitely far, far older than she was. And that to her, they had always been as full of delicious adventures and memories as they had been of apples! As beautiful and as close to the Shining City of Caemlyn as it was, and given the stone remnants her family had found in various fields over the years. Cal and the girls had always rather liked imagining that Ogier might have had a hand in the building of this place. She'd never found the time to investigate or ask someone in the know for 'real' truth however. Regardless whether or not the ancient Atlantin had been involved in tending the trees, this place always was, and always would be almost magical to her, and her favourite place in all of Four Kings. How could it not be? Even as a child, it was the place in Four Kings that, no matter what else had happened in her life, no matter how ridiculous the town got, or who she'd found herself at odds with, had always been there, with wide open boughs, to help her center herself in the moments she was not battling, and to bring her inner peace. Not to mention that so, so many 'core' moments from hers and her siblings' infancy (puns intended) and early childhoods had happened here.. [Who ever would have guessed at that age that the twins lied, and that the BIGGEST secret to becoming the fastest runner in the world actually had nothing at all to do with being sure to eat as many apples as possible in their entirety - dirt, skins, cores, stems/sticks/leaves, worms and all? (Especially the worms, if one should one be lucky enough to find any!) ? She never had flown like the wind. But she had blown many, many chunks of partly digested apple into it as a result. How many belly aches had she suffered through and from before her parents caught them out? ] And there were many moments from later years also, when symbols and initials for secret pacts and hearts' desires were carved through the bark - as much as they wormed their way through her young, hormonal heart. [Light knew that in most cases, many of those secret markings that had been made into various trunks and branches had lasted far longer there than in her recollections of their location and meaning!] But still, there were some strong exceptions to the forgotten carvings, and many memories that soothed her heart rather than made her feel sick in the belly. for those reasons and a thousand more, she loved this place, and always would, no matter how long she lived. <>\'''' <>/.< ~ ~ ●======● ~ ~ The last time she had visited the orchard had been decades ago. She savoured and tried to treasure every minute. Touching a trunk here or there, trying to keep her feelings as light and bright as the Summers day that rose around them. Cal made sure to treasure every minute she ever got to spend in, under or close to these trees and branches. And, she had found she was easily enjoying her time there with Elessar too. The first of the two 'specials' she'd promised him was the 'Family Tree' - the largest and oldest of the Big Reds, where the name and/or hand of every child and life partner of a Luins in the area had been making its mark, recorded in living history, as it were - even generations and generations before her own. It was obvious to see the length of the history there - the tree must've been well over 200, maybe 300 or even more, years old. Many, many generations of names had been marked into the wood of the trunk, or cut into stones the size of closed fists and piled and gathered around the trunk instead. Cal had been brought here often, from a young age to learn the family history and traditions as well as the science and 'poetry' behind it all: Firstly, how this tree had probably originally been chosen because of its size, and colour of the fruit - Red for love. Red for Family - and because, after all, reds, like love, tended to make the sweetest fruit as they grew. How 'stress' applied to the tree's trunk and sometimes branches, usually improved the growth of fruit and the strength of fruit bearing trees themselves. How the marked stones were sometimes used as a handy alternative to beat at trunks and encourage a flourish of growth. Sometimes the stones were even used by loved ones long after the original owners were gone, honouring the memories and the sense that, even departed, love, and memories of love could still be kept somehow relevant to the sweetness of the present, and bear fruit in times to come. Tradition had it right, she had learned - as long as one took care not to cut all the way down to the heart of the tree, and to not allow infection to set in through contamination, the tree would survive. And, in fact, the trees that withstood the frequent beatings without succumbing to either of the above tended to bear the most - and the largest and the sweetest fruit as they aged. She smiled at that thought as she always did, thinking yet again that much the same could be said of certain people she knew, her 'new' gaidin included! <>\'''' <>/.< ~ ~ ●= =● ~ ~ Finally, they reached the rows with the best of the Green apple varieties! Cal stopped, with a wide smile, when she found the particular tree she had been looking for. This was the one she had felt so entirely compelled to share with Elessar, as soon as she'd known she would be bringing him 'home' to Four Kings. For an apple tree, it was still particularly broad, and tall, and strong. And it's branches still seemed to produce enough fruit to fill a large amount of barrels. She wondered out loud, not for the first time, if her immediate family members might have often 'stressed' this tree in the long absences of those who had actually carved their names upon it, in the not-so-silent hopes that helping this tree grow strong through stretches of stress would also, somehow, help the others while they were away, doing their best to survive stress and beatings of their own. Calia looked upon it with a sort of proud little smile. Kaylan and herself had searched every row of trees in the hopes of finding one that the thought would grow just like this. She had not seen it for over two decades - but it was still beautiful, thriving, smelt delightful, and was perfect for its purpose. For a moment, she simply looked, remembering. And then, unable to wait any longer, she plucked a rather large apple from a low hanging bough, checked it for bug marks and admired the bright, ripe green skin that covered most of the fruit, as well as the 'Light-kissed' brighter patches that tended to form along the top - or anywhere else the balance of Sun and Shadow played out in favour of the Light. Just the way she liked it. She shared her joy and these finds with Elessar, pointing out the colours and the reasons for her - and Kaylan's choice - was there any other colour that would have been so suitable for two Accepteds, both aspiring to serve the Light as Sisters of the Green Ajah? Of course Cal thought, it helped that, at least in her mind, the strong, crisp texture and flavours of Green apples tended to match her view of The Greens also - much more than any red or yellow varieties she'd ever tried. And these ones were no exception - in fact, she was quite certain they were the very best she'd ever found! Laughing about this, and insisting that she was eager to hear his thoughts, Cal offered the now polished, shiny green apple out to Elessar so her Green gaidin could take a bite and see for himself - or to take his own selection from any he fancied on the tree. And then ... ~:~ "I'm not usually one to stand on ceremony," she began with a smile. "And, I haven't done this for decades... But... " Calia fished deep into a concealed side-pocket on her pants and retrieved a small wooden box. Inside was a small, robust rock chisel - at least as old as herself and always many-many times more sharp. With Joem's permission, she had sought this out and borrowed it from the mantle almost as soon as she'd arrived, this moment in mind. She held it out, offering that to her stoic Green Warder as well. And then she followed through with the smooth rock she'd also been carrying all this time. "But, since it is Sunday, and you are here... " "Would you, Elessar Gaidin, do this family the honour of adding your name, and at some of your strength, to this tree?" She found herself studying his face intently, wondering what was going through his mind. The bond only told a holder and the bonded so much. Like whether the other was still awake or still asleep in the early morning after a night of being awake; or if they were already up and training with the wind in the leaves and morning Sun, or, like she had been today, walking about the yards of the inn, alehouse, brewery and orchard in with the soft breeze and early morning light. She might not have been able to read his thoughts, exactly, but she did know she was glad she had bonded this particular man, this particular Warder of hers who had, it seemed, a penchant for serving Light and Life with the Greens for all the best reasons, and that, despite the risks that had been raised by setting herself in, she felt stronger, and safer with him by her side. She was glad, and proud, to have him serving the Light by her side. And she was actually glad to finally, after so, so long, trust another gaidin like this - and to know that was the case, no matter what lay ahead. And she was glad, that on this Sunday, there was such an appropriate way to honour the Light in her life, and the enduring strength represented by the one-ness and the bond they shared, and she was glad to invite him to have his name etched, forever more on her most enduring, favourite 'Green' - where it could stand, proud through beatings and storms, growing stronger with the Light, adding a certain, punchy sweetness to life, representing their shared choices and purpose, their strength and resolutions. Their 'one-ness'. Alongside her own name and those of her brothers', Kaylan's and Aaran's - The names of her chosen, those very, very few in her Ajah who had ever made the cut this close to the core of her heart. Elessar's name, she knew, belonged there too. In some ways, she trusted Elessar more with the bond than any other Warder she had ever had. Her brothers and Aaran included. And, as she offered her gaidin the necessary tools to accomplish the task she was glad, to know that was the case, and glad to offer him the space. <>\'''' <>/.< ~ ~ ●======● ~ ~

"And HURRAH -!" several voices shouted in unison as the gleeman finished his tale of Maragaine's stand. "- HURRAH FOR ANDOR AND FOR THE LIGHT!" thundered back every Andoran in the common room, raising clenched fists to the sky and banging tankards on the table. Calia's voice was just one of the many loud and proud among them. "Here! Careful, lass -!" the man at her elbow leaned away, shooting her a horrified look as she shouted and shifted her full tray of apple-ales into one hand, pumping the other towards the sky along with the rest of the room. "- You'll be spilling the drinks..." he finished, eyes widening in surprise as she managed to keep a deft grip beneath the tray, balancing it with apparent ease despite the awkward angle and the exuberant action. Calia let her laughter join the chorus of cheers that followed the Andoran chant and then turned her blue eyes to the man in question. "And cheat my good lord of the cost of a full mug?" she grinned mischievously, swinging a drink from the tray and slipping it into place in front of him without spilling a drop, "Not I!" "Well then!" the merchant looked her up and down, rubbing his beard and noting her hand on her hip with a chuckle. "True enough that there's no such thing as cheatin' on a Sun-day!" he said, sliding a silver coin in her direction and taking the mug with a smile. Calia's free hand captured the coin and dropped it into the front pocket of her apron as easily as if she really had continued serving at the Queen's Stand all these long years. "Not on my watch, at least!" she quipped, melting back into the throng with an answering smile as soon as he began to grin. Amelie and Joem had forewarned that it would be a busy, and likely understaffed night. And they had certainly not been wrong. The buzz of energy filling the common room was everything Calia remembered it to be on nights such as this, right down to the sound of clinking mugs, hearty laughter and the accompanying bright notes of the gleeman's flute - and more. She wove her way through the clusters of customers serving food and drinks in turn, moving from table to table with purposeful steps that seemed almost choreographed into a dance. If she had surprised herself with just how easily she'd slipped back into the role of lively serving girl, she didn't let it show in the slightest on her face. She moved from table to table, her tray full of frothy mugs of ale or steaming plates of food, her steps light and deliberate, avoiding stumbling patrons with ease. And when she passed Elessar, it made her chuckle inside to give him a cheeky wink, like she'd seen so many a serving girl do before her, in every inn they'd frequented thus far. ● As the night wore on and the apple-ale flowed freely, the patrons of the Queen's Stand grew more joyful and boisterous, more prepared to take advantage of the holiday than perhaps they had originally feared with all the world's strangest and stranger goings on. Calia stepped outside towards the alehouse and garden to find the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced apple ale and the sounds of raucous laughter, music, dancing and the clinking of tankards. A trio of minstrels played a lively tune near the bonfire, their melodies coaxing feet to tap and bodies to dance. In the alehouse, as in the Common-Room, the wooden roof-beams were strung with garlands and other greenery, in tribute to the power of the Light and the sun. The bonfire burned bright and fierce near the center of the yard, flames dancing ever-higher into the night sky as it defied the darkness and kept watch for the Light. Children darted here and there between adults, their laughter ringing out as they played game after game in the firelight, the sounds of mirth mixing with the crackling of the fire and hum of conversations. Townsfolk and travelling merchants mingled on the lawn, sharing stories and toasting the shortest night of the year. Night deepened and yet the bonfire's glow seemed to grow, pulsing with the rhythm of the music, challenging the shadows and casting light into their world. "Oi, Lass!" a burly merchant with a twinkle in his eye and a flush of deep red rose across his cheeks called to Calia as she passed, "Put those trays down! A pretty thing like you should be dancing around the fire and under the stars on a night like this!" "Leaving you lot to pour your own drinks?" Calia quipped with a grin as she set a plate of food in front of him. "I think not - someone has to make sure everyone here gets just what they deserve!" The other patrons at the table guffawed at the rebuff, one of them taking the opportunity and liberty to reach out and hook his arm around Calia's waist. "What if I deserve a dance?" he slurred. Cal tilted her head mischievously and twirled as if dancing dramatically on stage, the movement unraveling her self and skirts from his reach. "Well, if that was the case, I'd think you'd have to promise not to let my friend Elessar, over there", she followed the sense of the bond, nodding her head in the direction of her watching Warder, "catch you trying to whisk me away!" she grinned as the man blanched at the mere sight of her gaidin, and she sent her merriment and mirth at his expression along the bond for Elessar's enjoyment. ● Light began to break across the sky in the East. Calia smiled, feeling tired but strangely fulfilled and invigorated by the full night's service. She wondered what Elessar had made of the evening, and of Sun-day eve in this small town. She caught Joem and Amelie's eye as they poured last drinks for customers and prepared to coordinate the setup of festivities for the day ahead. As dawn crept across the lawns, they smiled at her timidly, thankfully, and returned to their work. Calia smiled back with genuine pleasure. It gave her a certain thrill to see her grand-nephew and his wife begin to carry on the traditions they had expanded in the family yard and home for her favourite holdiay. Truth be told, though Calia had passed many Sun-days, in many countries, over many years, she had never really quite figured out which part of the holiday she she preferred - the all-night reveling that defied the darkness until dawn, the peace and rest that followed as Light brightened and blessed the day with the coming of the Sun, or the way that entire towns simply celebrated the strength and joy in Light and made the most of every moment of the longest day of the year from it's zenith hour until sunset. Bit by bit, daytime slowly took hold of the world and the flames of the bonfire dwindled. Calia found Elessar at her side, and together they took a moment to Thank the Light for everything that existed, as tradition detailed, before the bonfire was extinguished. As Cal turned her face to the breaking dawn and softly-spreading warmth of the Light of the sun along with the rest of those gathered, she breathed in the crisp early morning air and smiled at her Warder and the descendants of her sister. Her heart swelled with gratitude for this place, these people, and what seemed to be the simple, enduring joy of Sunday Eve and the true heart of the Light in her old home town, despite the dusty and dour exterior the place showed to the world. Now, Cal knew, everyone would rest. And in a few hours, when the Sun climbed to its' highest point, each of them would return to honour the turning of the Wheel, and to bask in the strength of the Light once more. ●