02-01-2024, 04:19 PM
[[Trista's posts written by her writer]]
Occasionally the White Tower's Gaidin would enjoy a drink at a nearby inn, and today was just such a day. They never drank enough to dull the senses, and had just left to return to their duties when the commotion drew them in. Braiden and Koir stood on the inside edge of the crowd, the younger nearly hiding his small smile while the larger, older Warder outright grinned. At this particular moment both of those smiles were threatening, but the people of Tar Valon were at least somewhat accustomed to the shadowed personalities of the Tower-trained, and were much more interested in the ruffian starting trouble.
The slender woman was Altaran, and though a child of nobility was not allowed near the Rahad she had visited the city proper often enough. Losing the Source had doused the fire that burned so hot in her countrymen, but she had felt it once, and understood his position. In the passing years her own fire had rekindled, but remained tempered by her assimilation into the culture of Tar Valon. Since she had found him first he was not in an much trouble as he might otherwise be, but she was not about to let him know. Not yet, anyway. Where would the fun in that be?
![[Image: kas.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/kas.jpg)
A woman. Creator help him, and an Altaran woman at that. It seemed Kaz could flee half way round the world, and still there was an Altaran woman at the end of it. Was he allowed no damned luck. Not even the smallest bit? (well, she did sound pretty, but that was really beside the point. Pretty women were the most dangerous anyhow, especially Altaran ones. And especially when they had you face down in the dirt).
"I wasn't aware the Tower was in the habit of turning people away. Even 'rif-raff'-" he tried to angle his head to glare at the city-man, but couldn't tilt his eyes far enough "- you know, with them being servants of all and everything." Kaz wriggled but it really did him little and less good. First accused of being a Seanchan spy, and now this? Light above but the Creator was having a marvellous joke at his expense. "I didn't mean any harm, I swear it. Just a duel to settle a disagreement. A matter of honour. He could've nominated another in his stead if he was that scared, you know that. What kind of man screams like that, anyway? Are you going to get off or what?"
"That," her weight, slight as it was, pressed down on him just a little heavier, "is not what I asked you." The pressure was not meant to cause him more pain, just threaten it. In her peripherals, Braiden could no longer contain his smile and had resorted to scratching at a beard he did not have to hide it. Koir chuckled from deep in his throat, the heavy sound drawing the eyes of onlookers. As his quiet but powerful laughter subsided he leaned over to Brai, mumbling "Aye, he screamed like a lass!" The words were just loud enough for the lordling to overhear, but as quickly as his gaze snapped to the tree of a Warder (whose words had renewed his own laughter) they jerked away. Koir was not the tallest of men, but he was wide as an ox with not an ounce of it fat. The nobleman had earned Kasimir's scorn, and was not about to risk the same with the big Gaidin.
Trista flowed upwards, grabbing the back of the boy's shirt with her free hand and pulling him to his feet as she did. "Luckily, I know exactly what you mean," she said, releasing his arm while simultaneously spinning him to face her. "And I can take you to see the Brown sister, Malaika," Trista did not know the names of all the sisters, but the few of Seanchan decent were easily recognizable. Especially considering the scarcity of most such sisters; though Malaika was rarely on the training fields, Trista had seen her in the Tower proper (especially the library) more than she had ever seen Kaiya's Aes Sedai, and years had passed since she'd seen Lianora Sedai.
"That is," she offered with a wry smile that did not touch her eyes, "unless you're still looking to duel?" Her expression and the flicker of steel suddenly protruding from her hand said that he would not be facing the nobleman, were that the case.
He didn't expect her to take kindly to his words and the pressure on his spine confirmed as much. Still, vagrant or no (and despite his urchin appearance, he was not a vagrant) his business was his own. Leave it to an Altaran woman to be so nosy, but she wasn't going to get anything else out of him. Just as well that she decided to release him, and while he would beat the lithe woman in a contest of strength, the speed with which he suddenly found himself on his feet and facing her was really quite admirable. A roguish smile tilted half his mouth; he was sure of himself even in the most precarious of situations (and this did not even come close to the fiasco of Arad Doman!), even if half of it was bluff. She had agreed to take him and that was good enough for him, even with the smarting of his back and arm where she had twisted it. He could care less that he had been beaten by a woman even in front of all the spectators - growing up in Ebou Dar with his mother and sisters did a great deal for humility. On that front at least.
His eyes darted about the strange gathering - a force of protective habit - before settling on the violet stare of the woman who'd pinned him, and he dusted down his front, realising perhaps for the first time the dire state of his clothes. To the offer of a duel, he shook his head. "Look at me, wasting away and not an hour's sleep in days. It really wouldn't be a fair match, and there's been no insult besides. Have to give these lot a show another time." He'd recovered enough by now to chance a wink, then he pressed his foot down on the hilt of his fallen dagger, flipped the blade up and as soon as that it had disappeared (though he didn't doubt he could have been stopped if the woman really had thought him a threat). "No harm done, eh?" he added for good measure, mocking a salute in the direction of the lordling, who took the opportunity to scuttle off - one does not argue with the law of the Tower, after all, and unbeknownst to Kasimir, these three cloaked warriors were as good as.
![[Image: tristaal.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/tristaal.jpg)
"Now what ever would you need a sister for?" The voice was soft in the way that velvet covering steel was soft; spoken from deep red lips leaned next to his ear. Tinted with a dark amusement, it carried the inflections of Altaran blood lust, and was clearly - and perhaps most importantly - feminine.
Occasionally the White Tower's Gaidin would enjoy a drink at a nearby inn, and today was just such a day. They never drank enough to dull the senses, and had just left to return to their duties when the commotion drew them in. Braiden and Koir stood on the inside edge of the crowd, the younger nearly hiding his small smile while the larger, older Warder outright grinned. At this particular moment both of those smiles were threatening, but the people of Tar Valon were at least somewhat accustomed to the shadowed personalities of the Tower-trained, and were much more interested in the ruffian starting trouble.
The slender woman was Altaran, and though a child of nobility was not allowed near the Rahad she had visited the city proper often enough. Losing the Source had doused the fire that burned so hot in her countrymen, but she had felt it once, and understood his position. In the passing years her own fire had rekindled, but remained tempered by her assimilation into the culture of Tar Valon. Since she had found him first he was not in an much trouble as he might otherwise be, but she was not about to let him know. Not yet, anyway. Where would the fun in that be?
Kasimir
A woman. Creator help him, and an Altaran woman at that. It seemed Kaz could flee half way round the world, and still there was an Altaran woman at the end of it. Was he allowed no damned luck. Not even the smallest bit? (well, she did sound pretty, but that was really beside the point. Pretty women were the most dangerous anyhow, especially Altaran ones. And especially when they had you face down in the dirt).
"I wasn't aware the Tower was in the habit of turning people away. Even 'rif-raff'-" he tried to angle his head to glare at the city-man, but couldn't tilt his eyes far enough "- you know, with them being servants of all and everything." Kaz wriggled but it really did him little and less good. First accused of being a Seanchan spy, and now this? Light above but the Creator was having a marvellous joke at his expense. "I didn't mean any harm, I swear it. Just a duel to settle a disagreement. A matter of honour. He could've nominated another in his stead if he was that scared, you know that. What kind of man screams like that, anyway? Are you going to get off or what?"
"That," her weight, slight as it was, pressed down on him just a little heavier, "is not what I asked you." The pressure was not meant to cause him more pain, just threaten it. In her peripherals, Braiden could no longer contain his smile and had resorted to scratching at a beard he did not have to hide it. Koir chuckled from deep in his throat, the heavy sound drawing the eyes of onlookers. As his quiet but powerful laughter subsided he leaned over to Brai, mumbling "Aye, he screamed like a lass!" The words were just loud enough for the lordling to overhear, but as quickly as his gaze snapped to the tree of a Warder (whose words had renewed his own laughter) they jerked away. Koir was not the tallest of men, but he was wide as an ox with not an ounce of it fat. The nobleman had earned Kasimir's scorn, and was not about to risk the same with the big Gaidin.
Trista flowed upwards, grabbing the back of the boy's shirt with her free hand and pulling him to his feet as she did. "Luckily, I know exactly what you mean," she said, releasing his arm while simultaneously spinning him to face her. "And I can take you to see the Brown sister, Malaika," Trista did not know the names of all the sisters, but the few of Seanchan decent were easily recognizable. Especially considering the scarcity of most such sisters; though Malaika was rarely on the training fields, Trista had seen her in the Tower proper (especially the library) more than she had ever seen Kaiya's Aes Sedai, and years had passed since she'd seen Lianora Sedai.
"That is," she offered with a wry smile that did not touch her eyes, "unless you're still looking to duel?" Her expression and the flicker of steel suddenly protruding from her hand said that he would not be facing the nobleman, were that the case.
Kasimir
He didn't expect her to take kindly to his words and the pressure on his spine confirmed as much. Still, vagrant or no (and despite his urchin appearance, he was not a vagrant) his business was his own. Leave it to an Altaran woman to be so nosy, but she wasn't going to get anything else out of him. Just as well that she decided to release him, and while he would beat the lithe woman in a contest of strength, the speed with which he suddenly found himself on his feet and facing her was really quite admirable. A roguish smile tilted half his mouth; he was sure of himself even in the most precarious of situations (and this did not even come close to the fiasco of Arad Doman!), even if half of it was bluff. She had agreed to take him and that was good enough for him, even with the smarting of his back and arm where she had twisted it. He could care less that he had been beaten by a woman even in front of all the spectators - growing up in Ebou Dar with his mother and sisters did a great deal for humility. On that front at least.
His eyes darted about the strange gathering - a force of protective habit - before settling on the violet stare of the woman who'd pinned him, and he dusted down his front, realising perhaps for the first time the dire state of his clothes. To the offer of a duel, he shook his head. "Look at me, wasting away and not an hour's sleep in days. It really wouldn't be a fair match, and there's been no insult besides. Have to give these lot a show another time." He'd recovered enough by now to chance a wink, then he pressed his foot down on the hilt of his fallen dagger, flipped the blade up and as soon as that it had disappeared (though he didn't doubt he could have been stopped if the woman really had thought him a threat). "No harm done, eh?" he added for good measure, mocking a salute in the direction of the lordling, who took the opportunity to scuttle off - one does not argue with the law of the Tower, after all, and unbeknownst to Kasimir, these three cloaked warriors were as good as.
![[Image: cherry-blosson.png]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/cherry-blosson.png)