01-13-2018, 09:17 PM
The hall was large. Lythia thought back to a time when this very chamber held an impressive procession. She had stood at the front that day, peering out at the faces adoring her beloved warder. The bond beamed when he addressed them for the first time marked in his new station. So much pride, but dampened by a weighty sense of duty. That duty weighed on him in his last days, and Lythia's love began to swirl with worry. She should have stayed closer, she thought not for the last time. She should have expected assassins and not trusted so much to the institution of his office to protect him, but one gray man slipped through the cracks, and the greatest M'Hael of their time died before she could get to him.
She glanced as Blakeahle lightly grazed her forearm with his hand. He looked almost as solemn as she felt, but his dignity contained the emotion from showing beyond what she knew the bond to reveal. So well timed, it was almost as if he knew what she'd been thinking. She did not often turn so melancholy when in the Black Tower, but perhaps current atmosphere was clouding her usual energy.
Rather than the front, Lythia chose to remain away from the center of attention despite the invitation to join higher groups. She cast Blakeahle a silent confirmation of her status then returned to watching. The initial surprise of seeing Lennox here had long worn off by now. As had her initial need to embrace Saidar to hear the conversation passing between the Dragon's chosen and so misguided young Asha'man forced to face him. She stifled a grimace when the boy pushed to his feet once more. He got up again? How many times is that?
There was a small bubble around Lythia where men respectfully gave her some space, but an Asha'man's yell standing within reach shook her eardrums with its volume. She could not grimace, for that would show weakness, nor could she glare, for that would show womanly mercy. Lythia was neither of those things in the Black Tower. Here she was as much a warrior as she was a figure. Instead, the Asha'man seemed too distracted by the show up front to pay her much attention.
She could see why. She'd not lied to Nythadri. If anything, she underdescribed the crucible that was this place. It had to be, and perhaps the White Tower could take a few lessons from them, but Lythia did not revel like those around her as to what was happening. Lennox may be innocent of his crimes against the Light, but he clearly remembered a few disturbing things, and Lythia was not particularly enjoying watching them manifest.
Neither did she move to stop it. She reflected over the conversation she'd had not an hour ago with the man lazing about the seat her warder previously harbored. He was a good man, and worthy of selection, but he was unyielding in his decision concerning young Jai. He does look young. She thought, not for the first time, with flicker of softening across her eyes revealing her thoughts. Nobody noticed the moment, except perhaps Blakeahle, but all he did was glance at their surroundings briefly before settling back into watching Jai's beating. Not -young- perhaps, she remembered how he had knelt at first, almost historically, But something. He was growing tired, she could tell even without embracing Saidar to more clearly see. Such persistance. Does he truly not understand? Or is it all ego?
She adjusted the cloak about her shoulders to fall a bit more smoothly across her gown. She didn't intend on staying the night, much to the insistance of the M'Hael earlier, so she had decided to keep the pale charcoal about her rather than give it to a servant that would require fetching later. It was thin, and plain but for the silver clasp on the front and lovely against the green wool beneath. Green and black, with touches of navy. She always chose her attire specifically when coming here: down to the dagger on her belt. Her image needed to be upheld constantly. Showing up in one fluffy ballgown could undermine so much. She wanted to be seen as the General she was, not as a prize to chase.
She played a difficult hand attempting to sway the M'Hael from his course. Andoran politics were her particular field, after all. Assurances that the White Tower would not allow their brother's reputation to be tarnished so easily had not convinced him. Nor had her personal assurance that things would be set right. In fact, to Lythia's surprise, the M'Hael agreed with her. However this punishment was not entirely about Jai. It was to set an example, and the poor man was going to have to deal with it.
She exhaled, and for a moment felt empty without the bond that once held her in its arms, until she came to stand nearer Blake. Then someone gasped. Murmurs began to rise up around them. Lythia looked about her. The men were looking around while the expressions of others had fallen as though facing a threat. She knew that look, and immediately turned her attentions back to Jai. He'd risen to his feet yet again. How is he standing?! He looked terrible. She could already see nasty discoloration and angry swelling marking his otherwise impressive body - scar included. She'd have to be blind to miss that. A battle wound, most assuredly, taken when a Healer was nearby for otherwise no mortal man should have survived a slash so massive. It was thin and extensive. Taken from a sword, most surely, unless it were an odd sliver of Air. From a massive arcing reach. A Fade, perhaps. As those channeling against him, he bore the same, focused, defensive expression she'd come to recognize instantly. "He's channeling."
She spoke softly for Blake's benefit, unheard by the sudden upswing in yells and grotesque comments around them. Blake nodded as though he'd guessed as much and Lythia continued to watch in awe.
She had no idea how the duel went, but a swing to Lennox revealed he did not seem concerned. He'd crossed his arms and looked back and forth as though guiding something she could not sense. Jai's channeling didn't last long, however, and Lythia had to force herself to not turn away when he was thrown across his arm. Although several of the men around her winced and cursed on his behalf. Arms weren't made to land like that, and she didn't have to be a Yellow to understand the reason he laid so still for so long afterward.
In fact, so unmoving and unresponsive was the man that Lythia was starting to grow concerned. She didn't truly believe they'd kill him, but accidents frequently happened when Saidin was involved. Then she, like everyone else, was inevitably drawn to the slow rise of the M'Hael. His descent was unhurried but his stride was purposeful. What are you going to do..? She squinted thoughtfully. Jai seemed to rouse, but she could hear his groan from all the way back here.
Her eyes trailed him. He took a sword into his hands, unsheathed it glinted heroically in the light, and Jai somehow stumbled to his feet again. Lythia was too wrapped up in anticipation to ponder the enormity of that feat. She embraced Saidar to hear, but only to the ire of a few faces around her. They were just as curious as she was, and thankfully all had fallen quiet. She had to channel to hear, but whatever was being said, she was not about to miss it. "Malkieri?"
she whispered as though translating for Blakeahle, but honestly, she was that surprised that the exasperation slipped out. Why does he have a... oh no...Kojima? Are they Malkieri? She'd never wondered to ask as his was a distinctly borderland name, and she vaguely assumed it was Shienaran when the name went across her desk. At least that explained by her Green Sister in Caemlyn was so intrigued by the feverish young man slaving over royal archives.
An acheful sound cried out, then her breath caught. Jai sank to his knees and Lythia blinked in surprise. "What in the light?"
She and Blake exchanged the same look, and remained where they were as people filed away.
She waited there as long she dared. It would be a poor choice to be seen mothering over a punished Asha'man, even if she never went near him. Lythia Sedai was known to be one of the Black Tower. Not the typical, weak, tenderhearted woman attempting to change the things she didnt like. She was strong as the foundations of this building, but she at least could leave knowing the boy would recover - and with something positive to share with Nythadri should it come up again. There were Healers coming for Jai already. Although with the way he sank as though unconcerned with the shiveringly disturbing about of bone puncturing out from his arm and the corpse-like, mournful regard of the puddle of steel before him, she wasn't so sure.
She pulled her hood up over her braid and they headed for the Traveling courts.