02-14-2018, 09:29 PM
Having word spread among the Accepted ahead of time, Lythia found herself taking corridors she'd not seen in years. Many years. The farther she diverted from the main hallways traversing the first floor of the Tower the farther back in time Lythia felt she went. She didn't glide, not like the floating visions of noble beauties poufed and coiled for court. Yet compared to the gangly, awkward pale version of herself Lythia was at sixteen, she was the Aes Sedai of her dreams. Good-fitting soft wools, gleaming waves of hair streaming down her back, sturdy boots. Lythia would change nothing to her appearance riding to battle as she would attending a summons to the Amyrlin Seat. Although, she would trade the small knife at her belt for her shawl for Mother; and perhaps secure her hair for war.
There was a time early in her years in the Shawl, when the color of rainbow hems still swirled her daily thoughts, that Lythia scoffed at the idea of a Sister too busy to pass her valuable knowledge onto the Accepted. The kiss of death. Long years later, the start of her path in the Shawl was a point far out of sight.
By the time she crossed into the common court within the Accepted tower she was greeted by almost as many gawks as she was curtsies. She'd not taught novices since before she'd bonded Blake, a man who'd shared her duty to the Light for over ten years. She'd taught aspirants to the Green here and there, however. But those impactful lessons were short and swift. Addressing as many eager faces as which turned to her now...? Well, she nodded her acknowledgement of a few greetings before simply taking her place in the center of them all when the white dresses parted.
A quiet descended as Lythia Sedai began to provide some answers. "I will not soften the blow. We all know the Last Battle comes."
Her hands clasped lightly before her, she raised her voice without the use of the Power, even as she scanned unfamiliar faces peering down from the levels of galleries extended upward. However she was curious to know the reception of her forceful proclamation of the obvious. One of the few aspirants declaring allegiance to the Green Ajah that she actually recognized nodded in agreement, but for every nod, she saw frowns and in one case, a girl actually shook her head sadly and looked at her feet.
"As Accepted you have some freedom to direct your own studies. But what can you do to prepare for the Last Battle? Really do? This is the White Tower, and you women striving to be Aes Sedai, not the Borderlands and you plate and mail infantry. Every Ajah will have its role,"
she spoke as a true believer of that statement, moreso than the confidence of the Three Oaths gave her speech, but a passion glinted, like a shot in the dark, across her eyes and Lythia raised her voice proudly, "but I am a Green. If you wish to prepare in the way I will lead you to prepare, submit your name."
Without taking questions and without providing further details, she scanned the responses - the gaped mouths, the confused expressions, the rise of whispers winging about - then, pleased, Lythia departed. She was a busy woman, after all, and as such arranged for another Ajah-Sister, Delanna, delegated to take her place.
It was the stout, but surprisingly soft spoken Cairhienin Delanna that explained to the many questions that this was not an aspirancy but an opportunity for some extreme-sort of lessons. She would not entertain the idea of giving details except that once begun, and short of life-threatening injury, loss of limb, or burning out, the Accepted must see her commitment through to the end.
The "Games" as Delanna called them with a haunted sort of smirk, would begin immediately.
There was a time early in her years in the Shawl, when the color of rainbow hems still swirled her daily thoughts, that Lythia scoffed at the idea of a Sister too busy to pass her valuable knowledge onto the Accepted. The kiss of death. Long years later, the start of her path in the Shawl was a point far out of sight.
By the time she crossed into the common court within the Accepted tower she was greeted by almost as many gawks as she was curtsies. She'd not taught novices since before she'd bonded Blake, a man who'd shared her duty to the Light for over ten years. She'd taught aspirants to the Green here and there, however. But those impactful lessons were short and swift. Addressing as many eager faces as which turned to her now...? Well, she nodded her acknowledgement of a few greetings before simply taking her place in the center of them all when the white dresses parted.
A quiet descended as Lythia Sedai began to provide some answers. "I will not soften the blow. We all know the Last Battle comes."
Her hands clasped lightly before her, she raised her voice without the use of the Power, even as she scanned unfamiliar faces peering down from the levels of galleries extended upward. However she was curious to know the reception of her forceful proclamation of the obvious. One of the few aspirants declaring allegiance to the Green Ajah that she actually recognized nodded in agreement, but for every nod, she saw frowns and in one case, a girl actually shook her head sadly and looked at her feet.
"As Accepted you have some freedom to direct your own studies. But what can you do to prepare for the Last Battle? Really do? This is the White Tower, and you women striving to be Aes Sedai, not the Borderlands and you plate and mail infantry. Every Ajah will have its role,"
she spoke as a true believer of that statement, moreso than the confidence of the Three Oaths gave her speech, but a passion glinted, like a shot in the dark, across her eyes and Lythia raised her voice proudly, "but I am a Green. If you wish to prepare in the way I will lead you to prepare, submit your name."
Without taking questions and without providing further details, she scanned the responses - the gaped mouths, the confused expressions, the rise of whispers winging about - then, pleased, Lythia departed. She was a busy woman, after all, and as such arranged for another Ajah-Sister, Delanna, delegated to take her place.
It was the stout, but surprisingly soft spoken Cairhienin Delanna that explained to the many questions that this was not an aspirancy but an opportunity for some extreme-sort of lessons. She would not entertain the idea of giving details except that once begun, and short of life-threatening injury, loss of limb, or burning out, the Accepted must see her commitment through to the end.
The "Games" as Delanna called them with a haunted sort of smirk, would begin immediately.