She watched him closely. Of all the Asha’man that Lythia knew over the years - and she knew many - there were only a handful whose volatile minds kept her on edge enough to really pay attention. She knew what battle and trauma did to men and women, so most mannerisms she could recognize. Once in a while there were men who were either unhinged to start with, that when adding in access to the One Power only made them volcanic, and then there were the few remaining channelers who were around since the days prior the cleansing. She had to suspect Jai to be one such channeler, although it would take a trek through Black Tower records to confirm the year of his initiation. Still, it didn’t take much digging to find out about his family’s house in Tar Valon. He wasn’t set up for success from the beginning.
Add in basically every story since then, plus the description from Ellomai about what happened in Tar Valon, the scene in Black Tower with the M’Hael and Lennox, and of course how Nythadri was entangled in all of it pulling her heart strings. Lythia remembered being as enamored with another rogue Asha’man, although that relationship didn’t work out between them. Added together, she knew Jai was one step from falling off a cliff of sanity. It was why he was so easy to manipulate.
So really, his gifts were just Lythia’s advantage.
She nodded once he put the pieces together.
“We can, I think, but we need some Sisters to understand Daryen’s perspective. You know he will never speak for himself in that regard. You know he can’t.”
She stood then, embracing Saidar and a gateway formed a few moments afterward. The opposite side was clearly that of the White Tower. No other place on the planet was made of such recognizable.
“You’ll need to answer a few questions from the Hall. Right now though, before they can hear another story that biases them against Daryen,” she urged him. "I'll stay with you as long as I can."
Daryen’s perspective wasn’t one Jai was able to talk about. The King of Arad Doman was a stranger most of the time, no matter how many naked hours they spent together. The guy pissed Jai off more than he admitted. Then the rest of the time, he tugged and Jai mindlessly followed out of sheer loyalty. He didn’t even understand his own reasons. A flash of blue eyes and whip of golden hair and Jai was ready to kneel with the rest of the country. And spending time on knees wasn’t exactly a foreign concept. But for different reasons. Blood and bloody ashes. He would probably always follow Daryen.
He couldn’t speak to what Daryen intended. Light, he couldn’t speak to Daryen at all except to the constant reassurance to trust him. Jai did. Probably. Yes, definitely. When the orders were called, Jai jumped, aimed and shot off whatever destruction was required. And had for the better part of a decade. But when Daryen played the game of politics and juggled the marionettes of thrones, Jai kept a wide berth. He hated nobles as much as he hated the Towers. Yet here he found himself neck-deep in both. He’d never be able to say what Daryen did or did not intend despite Lythia Sedai’s penetrating desires that he could.
“I can only say what I saw, Aes Sedai,” he said, voice flat as the Erinin.
He was increasingly more uncomfortable. Not that he was comfortable at any time today, and he was aware that Hassalam wandered just out of sight (something about that woman was bloody wrong). Now he thought about it, it gave him the kind of dark creepy vibes of nearby shadowspawn. She was ugly enough to count as one, but he was certain she was human. So what was it? He was probably being paranoid. No surprise. Light.
He understood the urgency. Jai wasn’t so thick-headed as to not get it. When a move was made, the entire game board changed in an instant. This treaty was a hell of a move. They’d all be cornered into check-mate position in another round or two. The treaty signed. The Seanchan gains power and presence. They infiltrate the culture and what was disturbing and distant in years past becomes normal and expected. Their economy was obviously vast. It flooded into a central currency commanded by the far-away Empress, yet their influence trickled through many nations. He’d bet his shirt that the Kojima's bank was already dealing with propositions to accept the foreign exchange of Seanchan assets. To date, the Tar Valon mark was the most powerful coin in the world, but Jai wagered that in a year, the Seanchan mark would outweigh even the Andoran crown.
Time was not on their side. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that this felt like betrayal. Daryen repeatedly asked for trust, but he’d shown little in return. It was hard to trust a guy that wined and dined the enemy under his roof.
They are your enemy, he’d pleaded months before. At an oceanside House following the bloodbath of that hunting debacle.
He felt the same plea in his gaze as sure as the light from her gateway shone in his eyes.
“You know he will never speak for himself in that regard. You know he can’t,” Lythia said.
His frown felt like it settled into his bones.
It wasn’t betrayal? It was speaking for him? Lythia might be right. Daryen couldn’t abscond to the White Tower to talk about how the Seanchan were using him. Why even bring Trista into the deal to start with? Other than as leash-candy for the High Lord? What term was demanded that made the Gaidar the cornerstone of a deal that rippled across empires? So many ghosts... It was Jai’s fires that burned damane houses with little girls trapped inside. On Daryen’s orders. On the Dragon’s orders. So many screams. So much terror. He’d rather have slit their throats as they slept. It would have been a cleaner death. Faster. Moments rather than minutes that stretched into mountains of time never ending.
He shivered. Biting back the bile in his throat and the chill still flushing his skin from Lythia’s channeling. He only knew one person in the world who could really have the answers. Yes. She would know what to do.
“If I could talk to Nythadri first,” he frowned, gaze flashing through the portal as she could just appear there. She didn’t. It made his heart sink a little. Even if it was foolishness. Jai never claimed to be anything otherwise.
He stepped away, shaking his head. Lythia would be disappointed. He got it, but he couldn’t do it. He had little left to lose after the last time, but what he had was precious. A bit of sanity, and Nythadri. If he could just talk to her first. See what she said was best. Light, if she said it, he’d walk into the Hall of the Tower and say the Seanchan blackmailed Daryen. He could invent some massive plot to hand-wave his reasons. He’d lie through his teeth if Nythadri said it the reason was for the best. Light knew he’d murdered enough people for the greater good. His soul was already stained. What was one more blot?
He shook his head.
“No. This isn’t right. I’m going to go, Lythia Sedai,” he said. He was sorry in a way. But that crowd was full of people. Any of them could speak to the proceedings from the ceremony. He couldn’t do it like this. he almost felt his hand brush the place at his hip where Asad’s sword once occupied. A lesson learned. With a decided nod, he turned. Only to encounter the sudden presence of a hideous face holding a devilish smile. He was startled. But only for a moment. Then he just blinked.
Over the effect of the gateway, he didn’t even feel the chill when Hassalam channeled. And after a moment, all the reasons seemed to just…
…disappear.
She really thought he was going to come to the right decision and simply stroll through her gateway in the end. She certainly coddled him gently enough. There was no threat here, only hope for redemption.
Instead, his heckles raised and Jai retreated. Lythia was actually not disappointed at all. This was an opportunity she was willing to take advantage of. She signaled Hessalam and almost instantly a bloom of silvery threads erupted a blossom around the Asha’man’s head like a halo before subsequently disappearing within. Lythia had considered linking with Hessalam in order to better feel the flows of what was now hidden, but then her decoy channeling wouldn’t have been possible and the Asha’man would have sensed what was coming. This was her first time witnessing compulsion, and there would be more opportunities to practice in the future. Lythia had no desire to inflict automated worship into anyone, though. Once she learned, it would only be used for strategy. Lythia was nothing if not strategic.
Hessalam spoke as she channeled. Her voice was serious now, although it was clear that she delighted in having so pretty a target under her control. “Speak your command and he will obey,” she explained. Jai just stood there, Lythia noted. Behind her, she allowed the gateway to wink away. It had only been to her quarters in the White Tower. There should nobody on the other side to view what occurred, and the next gateway would open to an entirely different place.
She studied his face as she spoke, curious to watch his reaction. “You want to go to the White Tower. That’s why you came to me, Jai. You want to help Daryen and there was no other way except to ask the White Tower to step in.” Lythia glanced at Hessalam as if seeking approval, but she promptly recognized the brief moment of inferiority, squared her shoulders and continued. “You came to me to help protect Daryen, Nythadri, and yourself. You want to talk to the Sitters. You’re going to tell them that Trista Gaidar was sold to appease the terms of the treaty,” she spoke firm and evenly. These were all facts she was certain Jai already considered, but something in his conscience prevented him from taking that final step. This was only a nudge. Lythia nodded.
“And you realize that the M’Hael and the Amyrlin conspired together to make this happen. While the Hall handles the Amyrlin, you will handle the M’Hael. You hate him anyway. He’s unfit to rule the Black Tower. A darkfriend and a tyrant. You’re going to assassinate the M’Hael before sunrise. You’re going to be calm and collected while you speak to the Sitters and Travel to the Black Tower.”
Those were a lot of instructions. She looked at Hessalam who was quite joyous in the moment of mastery over the beautiful Asha’man. Were they too much?
“Its best if they already want to follow your orders. The weave does less damage,” she explained.
Lythia crossed her arms. Hessalam vowed to do no harm to his delicate mind. The Dark One have mercy on her if she did otherwise. At least until he wasn't useful anymore. For now, his sheer proximity to powers in play made him an exquisite weapon at her disposal.
“There’s something else in there,” Hessalam turned her face as though peeking through the loot inside his head.
“Another compulsion?” Lythia asked, wishing she felt whatever it was for herself.
“Something like those silly bonds you children have created,” she stepped nearer Jai. His height towered over Hessalam’s stooped shoulders, and while the disfigured woman purred contentedly to be so near the object she desired earlier, Lythia wondered if Nythadri had already bonded him. That might complicate things, but if so, why was Jai asking to speak with her? Another Sister, then? But Hessalam said ‘something like’, which meant she didn’t recognize the exact weaving.
“Hessalam! Leave the man alone,” she seethed and waved the woman back. Darkness! What must she have been like before? Whatever she was, now, she was obedient. With a shrug, the blush of Saidar disappeared from the woman’s aura. When next Jai turned, the former Forsaken was gone from sight and Lythia was nodding as though agreeing to be the helpful ally that Jai sought all along.
The next time a gateway opened, it was Kekura who stepped into view on the other side, oblivious to the plotting moments before. Lythia stayed behind when the gate closed, confident that Kekura had the pliant prize she sought. And none would know any different.
She stayed with Hessalam while Kekura’s plan unfolded in the White Tower. She’d return the former Forsaken to another master in the morning, and Darkness knew she wasn’t leaving the woman to wander the night alone. There were more lessons to learn, for instance.
The whole time, though, Lythia was confident the world would be changed by morning.
Hessalam’s eyes bore fires into his. At first he cringed, and his heart flickered uneasy, but the longer he peered into them, her face seemed to shift. The folds of skin stretched and smoothed. Her hair darkened into nighttime ringlets. Her lips became plump and dewey. Blush gentle as flowers tinged the wings of her cheeks, but it was the eyes that dazzled the most. Twin spheres of diamond-hard ice that he thought he might sink into forever stared his reflection back at him.
She shimmered into a mirage of the woman that he wanted so badly to see, and now she stood before him like a wish came true. Recognition softened like a smile upon his expression, though his head was light as having drank a vat of the smoothest wine. Nythadri’s voice seethed whispers in his ear, and he nodded along. Of course he wanted to protect her. Himself and Daryen. Especially himself. Of course the best place to seek help was with the immaculate Sisters of the White Tower. Trista bartered like a good at market. An innocent girl placed on the scales against a pile of gold and ink.
It felt like floating in the ocean. Thoughts lifted and fell away like waves. Nythadri told him once that Saidar was falling without being caught. The longer it went, the less you cared in the bliss of the rush. He felt himself letting go, but he couldn’t look away from the mirage of Nythadri. It was bliss like her Saidar. Of course the Towers conspired. Enemies circling. Tyrants and darkfiends. Assassinate?
Her touch sparked. He wanted to kiss her. How long had it been since he’d lost himself in that free falling bliss. Hungry lips found his. He had to lean low. Hands pulled at his waist.
But then, like a dream, she faded.
He blinked. What was he saying? Was he talking out loud again? He couldn’t remember. A glimpse just out of sight. A shadow.
He turned to find the face of hope, and he remembered why he was there. He had to find help, and Lythia Sedai would save them.
He nodded and strode suredly through the gateway. On the other side, the familiar face of the one who found him at his brother’s grave waited. Recognition settled like a gentle rain. It had been raining the last time he saw Kekura.
He bowed, hand on the hilt of the sword, the other crossed closed-fisted over his heart. When he spoke, his voice was even and predictable. There was nothing out of sync. Little inflection. Valoni accent neutral as the moon. Steady as the rhythm of ocean waves unending. Sand smoothed to flatness by the wind.
“I am Jai Asad Kojima, a veteran Asha’man of the Black Tower, and I am here to tell you what has happened today in Bandar Eban and so seek your help,” he spoke to the Sea Folk sister formally, but he was aware of others watching. For now, they were paid little mind.