08/16/2000


Entrance Hall, White Tower, Tar Valon

The floor forms a beautiful mosaic of color as the seven colors of the
seven Ajahs are employed in tiny tile work to form the flame of Tar Valon
in all of its glory. Though it appears white from a distance, one needs
only bend down to see the fine artistry that went into employing those
colors in just the right way to create such an illusion. Seven that make
one, a fine metaphor for the Aes Sedai, and the first thing a petitioner
would see.

Women wearing great serpent rings, their faces young whatever their real
age, stride through the area, sidestepping petitioners, white-clad novices,
and striped Accepted, for the most part calm and aloof. Novices run
through, to grab petitioners or on their way to lessons, either one, wheras
the Accepted comport themselves with better decorum. Usually, these days,
it is tattered refugees, in grimy clothing, that finds itself huddling
within these fine white walls. As often as not, they cannot be helped,
whatever titles or sad stories they brought with them when they came.

More often than not the denizens of the Tower look straight over the heads
of these pathetic souls, staring straight south. As though they could see
the enemy over the horizon straight through the perfect white Ogier
stonework, and somehow eliminate it with a gaze, a glare, a frown. As if
some answer to the growing corner they find themselves backed in will
present itself from beneath the tangled hair of one of the refugees. Heads
tilt upwards with determination and perhaps a hint of anger, then, and
often times will disappear in a swirl of cloak and hemline.


Kaomi glides into view. She nods to Neelkan as she passes but seems aimed
in the direction of the infirmary, smoothing her stole down as she goes.

Neelkan is standing outside the Infirmary, glaring at the floor and
growling obsenities. He doesn't seem to be in a very good mood, and is he a
little flushed? He doesn't notice the Amyrlin right away because of
whatever has gotten him into this mood.

Kaomi taps him on the shoulder. "Is there a problem, Neelkan?" Obviously
there is, but the quickest way to learn about it is to ask.

Jumping at the voice nearby, Neelkan glances up and glares for a second
until he sees who the intruder in his mental cursing was. Kaomi. His glare
fades, but he still looks flustered and a little flushed, "I.. uh.. I'm
a'right. Just..uh.. the.. uh.. male channeler 'n all..." Lie. Lie. Lie. And
he's a horrible liar.

Kaomi 's ebony eyebrows furrow into a frown. "What male channeler n' all?"
Does he mean Tetrarch? No, nobody would refer to Tetrarch as merely 'the
male channeler.' She rubs her eyes, beginning to wonder what she missed
when she drifted off in her office.

She doesn't know yet? Well... Neelkan doesn't really want to be the one to
tell her, so he shifts around slightly, a new reason to be flustered. "Um..
well.. ya see.." Well, he can talk about this, and maybe she won't ask
what's really bothering him, right? "There was an attack out in the
Courtyard. A guy stepped outta 'is thing with a small group of Trollocs 'n
a Fade. 'ey were all taken care of though, 'n the man was taken 'way by a
bunch of.. Reds?" Yeah. Reds. Oh how fun it is to be a Trainee and have to
tell these sorts of things to the Amyrlin...

Stepped through this thing...Kaomi's hard gaze pierces him. It is taken
care of now. Fine. She intends to find out how he got here. "Alright. Now.
That is not what is really bothering you. I will not delve into your
personal life, however."

"Um.. 'n I thank ya f'r 'at, Kaomi." Neelkan actually looks sheepish at the
look he's getting. Though it's good she doesn't want to delve. He's having
a hard enough time admiting what's bothering him to himself. He certainly
doesn't want, or even think he'll be able to, explain it to anyone else.
And stepped through this thing. That's the only way he knows how to explain
the gateway that appeared. He really doesn't know all that much about
channeling still.