The First Age
Toss of a coin - Printable Version

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Toss of a coin - Leon Corlinson - 02-25-2023

[Image: Screen-Shot-2019-02-06-at-4.45.55-PM-850x560.jpg]

Lennox Orander

A cacophony of sounds and smells filtered into the room through the window and floor boards. The soft murmurings of the patrons below, the footsteps of the inn’s staff as they paced through the hallway outside his rooms going about their business, as well as the sounds of the city traffic coming through the open window melded with the smell of fat and meat being cooked in preparation for the evening meal. The busy main street of Cairhien never seemed to change.

Tendrils of Spirit snaked their way through the building, providing the man with the count of people currently under his feet in the main room of the Inn. The inn was called Happy Mourners Arms, but he knew it as his old home. His parents had long since left this Turning, and when he and his estranged brother had not been able to take it over, it was soon taken over by another family for a scant cost despite the prime location of the building itself. Before loosening his grip on Saidin the man wove a web of Air and Water to cleanse his body of dirt and sweat from his travels before clothing himself in well-worn tunic of white, a vest of sea colored blue, and dark colored pants.

Bare feet padded softly on the old wood floor to his bed where he sat down. He took out a small steel mirror from his bags and began to set his hair in order. Gone were the long locks of sun-streaked blonde hair as it was cut to a length just below his ears. Chestnut brown eyes, once dim and sunken, were now clear and healthy. A beard now covered some of the scars he’d earned during the Last Battle. Though it was disheveled from not being brushed regularly, it would still be passable at most dinner tables.

Though she would have me clean shaven most likely.

He cocked a small lopsided grin before returning it to his bag. He spotted a piece of a gold chain, a small gift from a little exotic starfish whom he checked in on from time to time, watching over the child in place of her father who gifted him with lessons which continued to shape his path more and more as the years passed. He set it aside, continuing to reach for what he was after, a worn silver mark from the island of Tar Valon. He spent a few moments spinning it in his hand as it invoked a wave of memories and emotions.

He allowed them to float within his thoughts, reliving his days as a young boy with Drekar constantly chasing him and his talented brother, Kentrillo, finding his bondmate and the joy, love, and pain that their relationship held. To his disastrous pursuit of strength and power that was not ordained to be his during this Turning that destroyed the very world he wanted to protect.

When he had his fill, he quickly summoned the Void and sent the surge into it. Shifting his focus onto the small round table and chair in the corner of his room, he looked onto the long black coat draped neatly over the chair as a gold pin on the collar captured his attention. It was a stark contrast to the rich blue leather that wrapped the sword’s handle that laid nearby on the table. 

The color was the same as the shawl from his memory.

He stretched his arm over to the pillow on the bed gathering a small bundle of flowers and pocket-worn drawing. On the yellowed parchment was the image of a woman with her blonde hair pinned up with a regal look. His mind pictured the pearls that she loved to adorn her hair with. Back then he would wonder why she spent so much time at her desk fiddling with them. He still didn’t have an answer to it, but he didn’t mind it. He was just glad she did, even if he did not understand that at the time. Light, I miss you.

Setting the picture back down near the pillow he looked again to the coin and back to his coat. A question about what he should do that had been plaguing him for a time now once again came to his mind. Since the Amyrlin Seat announced its acceptance of male Aes Sedai and the change that it would bring.

Lennox held a small bundle of lavender and lilacs, carefully preserved with a small knotted weave to keep their enchanting but subdued scent, to his nose as he took in a small breath.

“What should I do now, Cor?”

Soon a soft clink sound seemed to fill his room when he flicked the Tar Valon mark into the air before holding out his hand to catch it.

Heads or tails.