02-03-2023, 09:32 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-18-2023, 12:11 PM by Natalie Grey.)
The last time she’d sat at this desk, it had been to write Jai about his brother. Nythadri was quick about the task of composing a note, but her thoughts pulled in a direction she could ill afford to distract herself with. She imagined the sultry heat of evening in Bandar Eban; the shadows and splashes of coloured lights on the walls, the lingering scent of spices. Jai was probably half-way drunk somewhere in the city by now, grappling with what he believed Daryen had done. At the hunt he’d been vehemently against the treaty. She understood why, just as she also knew he would reconcile. But light she wished she was there to soothe the knots from his thoughts.
This time Nythadri made sure Elly actually read what she had written. A little doubt gnawed as she folded the paper and handed it over. She was unaccustomed to the weight of anxiety. Was it a mistake to send the gaidar? Nothing could stop the Wheel in motion, and perhaps it was better to be away sooner rather than later; pick through the debris of consequence later. Everything felt balanced so precariously, each choice barring the way of another. But Elly felt strong as a mountain in response, and the simplicity of her resolve calmed her a little. She plucked the note from Nythadri’s fingers with a sharp grin and a short bow.
The green’s halls were still unusually quiet when they returned to them, the sound of their steps echoing a hollow pattern against the stones. Only a few servants fluttered to their duties, lighting the evening lamps and securing the heavy drapes. They walked together for a time. Soon Elly’s route must diverge for the kitchens, where she said she’d last seen Elsae – hopeful she could catch the Accepted before she returned to her room, else disappeared to more mischievous endeavours. For now Nythadri was quiet in her thoughts, unusually content in the rhythm found between them. At least until she felt a preemptive shift in the warder beside her, and her attention focused to discover the man crossing their path with a devil’s grin for the intrusion.
“Good evening, gleeman.” Elly’s greeting was warm, and more familiar than Nythadri might have expected. Zahir responded with the flourish of a bow, not quite as lavish or lengthy as the one before, and the warder’s gaze followed him tip to toe with a small smirk as the patched cloak fluttered around his ankles. Upon the brief, surprised query of Nythadri’s attention to their acquaintance, there was a flash of something uncertain in the bond. But by Nythadri’s reckoning they were so far past the point of necessary discretion it was quite laughable. This morning’s carefully laid plans were little more than ash now. No one was likely to wonder at how their connection came to pass, or if they did, the curiosity would soon pale beneath the night’s likely conclusions.
It seemed Zahir had been lingering, most likely with a purpose that earned him a cool look from Nythadri for his persistence. For light’s sake, she had already dismissed him once. Maylis had put foolish notions in his head.
“You said you did not need escorting, Aes Sedai, but I did wonder if you might do me the favour instead?”
“Then you are to be disappointed in your wondering.”
Elly snickered surprised laughter for her dry response. The woman scratched her neck and shrugged at him, though her interest was still sultry. The corners of her smile were decidedly sly. “Apologies, then. It seems my Aes Sedai has spoken.”
Zahir’s eyes flickered between them with some quiet interest. It sparked something in his gaze, but he only laughed, and pressed a hand to his chest. “Wounded,” he declared, but easily gestured a sweep of his arm like permission for their leavetaking was granted. Nythadri’s look was little more than flat. The repartee of crossed words might usually have enticed a distraction, but tonight she did not have time for it.
“Enjoy the city, Zahir.”
Nythadri felt him watching still as they left. Eleanore turned a glanced back over her shoulder. “That man is delicious,” she laughed. Not quite out of earshot. Nythadri wondered if she’d winked. Light-forsaken woman.
[[Nythadri continues in The Point of No Return]]
![[Image: elly-av.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/elly-av.jpg)
Elly watched the gaggle of white-clad girls puff like little cotton clouds around her, all yawning and tired and dropping clumsy curtsies. She chuckled a little, since she imagined their days had been soft compared to her own at that age. “I’m looking for Accepted Elsae,” she said, to which one squeaked that the woman had been returning to her room in the Accepted Tower when they parted. Elly ruffled the girl’s hair despite herself; she was small and cute as a button. The trio shuffled off, giggling and bemoaning their soap-wrinkled hands and sore feet in equal measure.
She found the Accepted in question in one of the shadowed hallways, eyes tight to the rafters like she expected some mischief from above. Elly glanced up too, passing curious, but it seemed the same as any other ceiling she had paced underneath this evening.
“Hello?” The voice called out, nightblind. Elsae rubbed her arms, but a brilliant smile replaced uncertainly the moment she pieced Elly’s shape in the flickering light. The trust displayed was immense. She couldn’t hazard Elsae’s age (best not to do that with channeling women anyway) but she looked young. How the dreadlord could possibly have ascertained the things about this woman as he had, Elly could neither understand or explain. The Shadow would snap this one up in hungry jaws, and still be starving after.
Whatever the light-forsaken man wanted with her, though, Elly didn’t intend to allow it.
“Eleanore Gaidar.” She introduced herself with a short, formal bow, fist on heart. Elly nursed that small glow of pride carefully, still convinced the flame would be snuffed at a moment’s notice. For a moment her attention lingered on Nythadri, but she was only a closed ball of quiet and focus. “And you must be Accepted Elsae.” She held out the letter and watched as it was read under little bubbles of power-light. No apparent thought preceded an answer. Enthusiasm fountained like she’d offered tea and cake at a fancy place in the city, not a night-time flight on such a dire evening as this. But it was better Elsae wasn’t afraid. Though too much exuberance might make keeping an eye on her as easy as herding cats. Fortunately she looked as weary as the novices from her own day’s work.
“Sure,” Elly laughed at her notion of fun. “This way then.”
This time Nythadri made sure Elly actually read what she had written. A little doubt gnawed as she folded the paper and handed it over. She was unaccustomed to the weight of anxiety. Was it a mistake to send the gaidar? Nothing could stop the Wheel in motion, and perhaps it was better to be away sooner rather than later; pick through the debris of consequence later. Everything felt balanced so precariously, each choice barring the way of another. But Elly felt strong as a mountain in response, and the simplicity of her resolve calmed her a little. She plucked the note from Nythadri’s fingers with a sharp grin and a short bow.
The green’s halls were still unusually quiet when they returned to them, the sound of their steps echoing a hollow pattern against the stones. Only a few servants fluttered to their duties, lighting the evening lamps and securing the heavy drapes. They walked together for a time. Soon Elly’s route must diverge for the kitchens, where she said she’d last seen Elsae – hopeful she could catch the Accepted before she returned to her room, else disappeared to more mischievous endeavours. For now Nythadri was quiet in her thoughts, unusually content in the rhythm found between them. At least until she felt a preemptive shift in the warder beside her, and her attention focused to discover the man crossing their path with a devil’s grin for the intrusion.
“Good evening, gleeman.” Elly’s greeting was warm, and more familiar than Nythadri might have expected. Zahir responded with the flourish of a bow, not quite as lavish or lengthy as the one before, and the warder’s gaze followed him tip to toe with a small smirk as the patched cloak fluttered around his ankles. Upon the brief, surprised query of Nythadri’s attention to their acquaintance, there was a flash of something uncertain in the bond. But by Nythadri’s reckoning they were so far past the point of necessary discretion it was quite laughable. This morning’s carefully laid plans were little more than ash now. No one was likely to wonder at how their connection came to pass, or if they did, the curiosity would soon pale beneath the night’s likely conclusions.
It seemed Zahir had been lingering, most likely with a purpose that earned him a cool look from Nythadri for his persistence. For light’s sake, she had already dismissed him once. Maylis had put foolish notions in his head.
“You said you did not need escorting, Aes Sedai, but I did wonder if you might do me the favour instead?”
“Then you are to be disappointed in your wondering.”
Elly snickered surprised laughter for her dry response. The woman scratched her neck and shrugged at him, though her interest was still sultry. The corners of her smile were decidedly sly. “Apologies, then. It seems my Aes Sedai has spoken.”
Zahir’s eyes flickered between them with some quiet interest. It sparked something in his gaze, but he only laughed, and pressed a hand to his chest. “Wounded,” he declared, but easily gestured a sweep of his arm like permission for their leavetaking was granted. Nythadri’s look was little more than flat. The repartee of crossed words might usually have enticed a distraction, but tonight she did not have time for it.
“Enjoy the city, Zahir.”
Nythadri felt him watching still as they left. Eleanore turned a glanced back over her shoulder. “That man is delicious,” she laughed. Not quite out of earshot. Nythadri wondered if she’d winked. Light-forsaken woman.
[[Nythadri continues in The Point of No Return]]
Eleanore
Elly watched the gaggle of white-clad girls puff like little cotton clouds around her, all yawning and tired and dropping clumsy curtsies. She chuckled a little, since she imagined their days had been soft compared to her own at that age. “I’m looking for Accepted Elsae,” she said, to which one squeaked that the woman had been returning to her room in the Accepted Tower when they parted. Elly ruffled the girl’s hair despite herself; she was small and cute as a button. The trio shuffled off, giggling and bemoaning their soap-wrinkled hands and sore feet in equal measure.
She found the Accepted in question in one of the shadowed hallways, eyes tight to the rafters like she expected some mischief from above. Elly glanced up too, passing curious, but it seemed the same as any other ceiling she had paced underneath this evening.
“Hello?” The voice called out, nightblind. Elsae rubbed her arms, but a brilliant smile replaced uncertainly the moment she pieced Elly’s shape in the flickering light. The trust displayed was immense. She couldn’t hazard Elsae’s age (best not to do that with channeling women anyway) but she looked young. How the dreadlord could possibly have ascertained the things about this woman as he had, Elly could neither understand or explain. The Shadow would snap this one up in hungry jaws, and still be starving after.
Whatever the light-forsaken man wanted with her, though, Elly didn’t intend to allow it.
“Eleanore Gaidar.” She introduced herself with a short, formal bow, fist on heart. Elly nursed that small glow of pride carefully, still convinced the flame would be snuffed at a moment’s notice. For a moment her attention lingered on Nythadri, but she was only a closed ball of quiet and focus. “And you must be Accepted Elsae.” She held out the letter and watched as it was read under little bubbles of power-light. No apparent thought preceded an answer. Enthusiasm fountained like she’d offered tea and cake at a fancy place in the city, not a night-time flight on such a dire evening as this. But it was better Elsae wasn’t afraid. Though too much exuberance might make keeping an eye on her as easy as herding cats. Fortunately she looked as weary as the novices from her own day’s work.
“Sure,” Elly laughed at her notion of fun. “This way then.”