Condemned and a Strange Homecoming

Sephirael, the quiet, enigmatic Red, who has risked damnation, dared all, to stand and deliver that eye-opening speech, powerful in its simple sincerity. Accept the Black Tower as it was. Find some other way to gentling. Suggestions rising to heretical proportions. Dallah realized that Sephirael's whole heart was behind her words, revealing and yet at the same time, stifling some personal pain.

The Head had almost forgotten Laurya's rude departure when the doors slammed dramatically open. The said Sister stalked into the room with an air of gloating triumph, as she stopped right in front of her and demanded, "Answer now. No hedging; acknowledge or deny my allegations plainly, so that we know you speak truly. Have you at any time knowingly linked with a male channeller?"

In reflexive action, Dallah embraced the source. Almost instantly, the glow of saidar also surrounded most of the women in the room.
Simultaneously, the parlour burst into an uproar, much like an Illuminator's fire crackers being set off in a small box. Yavanne shouted, "What length of insolence will you resort to?"
Idinya interjected, "How dare you accuse our Head - your Head - of such... such...?"
Zarlash's voice sliced through all like a cleaver, someone who was used to commanding and being instantly obeyed, "Laurya, please take your seat. We have matters that need discussing, and without your acting a child."

Laurya bristled and was about to retort when Zarlash, swatting her disturbance like one would as a fly, centering on Dallah, and interrogated, "Dallah, does she speak the truth?"

Silence.
The drop of a pin could have equated to booming thunder.
Dallah noticed that many still held onto the source, as did she herself. She was Aes Sedai. She could not lie. She believed that without even trying, she could have easily manipulated her words to evade the question. But in her heart of hearts, she was tired keeping it secret. Almost with relief, she desired most of all to bring it to the light, expose it to the world, come what may.

She glanced up at the merciless gaze of her Sitter, then looked at everyone else. The answer was for them.
She uttered one word.

***

The crickets outside played their humming tune in the still air of night. Dallah was in her office, penning ideas as to the policy changes she would like to introduce to the Ajah, checking the Red written constitution every now and then, whilst also drawing up meeting schedules for the next few weeks.

Earlier in the afternoon, after her confession, Zarlash, Laurya and some other seniors (less than what she would have expected), had left in shock. Those who stayed presumably were willing to hear what she had to say. She remembered the scene distinctly. It was not one without emotion.
Sephirael looked at her with different eyes.
Yavanne watched her as if she was a completely different person, though one she would follow even into the Blight.
Michelle applauded her move.
Dallah had basically praised them all for not living in a box and for their open-mindedness. She had dismissed them so they could think about their own motives and ideas.If only saidin can be cleansed!, came a frustrated thought, Male channelers are a danger. But how to contain that threat? What procedure should we adopt that allows them to live with dignity as men?As the oil lamp burnt lower, Dallah channelled to renew the fire. At the same time, her office door swung quickly open, divulging a tall, hooded, voluptuously figured woman.

At this time of night and without knocking?? Something only Zarlash could do. But this was a stranger... although a flash of familiarity tickled the back of Dallah's mind.
Before she could open her mouth of her own volition, it fell into a gape when the figure unhooded herself.

Daelin Tieranatsu, the former Head of the Red Ajah, once one of the most powerful women in the White Tower, not far below the Amyrlin Seat, the esteemed and beloved mentor of Dallah. A tsunamic rush of emotions hit her so hard, she felt winded.
Joy that she was back - she wanted to run up to embrace and kiss her.
Bewilderment, confusion - which were what held her back. Why? Why did she leave her so suddenly before? Why, when she needed her, did she just disappear? Why now did she come back?

"Hello, Dallah. Surprised?" came Daelin's first words.
Again another interruption. With a blur of motion, Laurya was in her office, catching Daelin in a huge bear-hug that would have suffocated any lesser woman.
"Sister," Daelin said steadily, extricating herself from Laurya's arms. "Remember that you wear the shawl now, and must act according to your station. Uncontrolled displays of affection are hardly called for at this time."

Then, she sat down and folded her hands with the calm equanimity that Dallah had always admired, waiting. She suddenly remembered her manners. She walked to a side-table, pouring a cup of tea which had become luke-warm by now. Channeling a little, she warmed it up, before handing it to her former superior.
"I am exceedingly happy that you are back, Daelin," the carefulness of her words belying the genuine warmth in her eyes.

Making sure that Daelin was comfortable, she seated herself, before addressing the other Red Sister, "Laurya, I'm sure the matter you wish to discuss with me can wait until tomorrow. Daelin and I have much to talk about."
Laurya turned to look at Daelin, wanting very much to stay. Again, the older, more experienced Sister had only to give her a look, before Laurya capitulated. Shooting Dallah a silent challenge to watch out for tomorrow, she quietly left the room.

Silence reigned as the remaining two Sisters stared at each other.

Laurya flew from the room as Daelin quietly sipped her tea. Dallah finally sat down, her composure back after what was surely a great surprise.
"Dallah," Daelin began quietly. "I'm sure you all have been wondering where I disappeared to all those years ago. The truth be told, I have been travelling, in hopes of finding an answer to a question I have had for many years." She leaned forward, slightly hesitant as to how to reveal her knowledge to the Red Sitter. So she switched tactics.
"I have been hearing of the-- animosity within the Red Ajah. Disturbing news, especially in the light of our general persecution and dislike by the rest of the world. We surely don't need disagreements within our own."
Dallah nodded quickly, then looked almost as if she was opening her mouth to protest that it wasn't her fault. But Daelin went on before she could say anything else.
"It's because of this that I have decided to return, although my research is not yet complete. But I have found something that could change the world."
The other Sister raised her eyebrows in anticipation. Daelin knew that Dallah would hear her out on this, as ludicrous as it seemed. Dallah had the same goals as she, although Daelin never advertised it. She could not risk opposing factions within the Ajah!
"In my studies, I came across an old manual written by a Jurale Sedai of the Brown Ajah. I have never heard of a Jurane Sedai in all my years here, so I did some research on her. Apparently, she studied objects of the Power, namely angreal, sa'angreal, and ter'angreal. She died of unknown causes quite a few years before any of the present Sisters were even born.
"Needless to say, the manual she had written was of little importance to anyone, and so ended up quite decrepit in one of the libraries of a lesser Cairhenin lord. I managed to locate it out of sheer luck, and what I found in it is quite extraordinary."
From within the folds of her cloak, Daelin produced an old, leather bound book that was nearly worn through the binding. The pages were yellowed, many edges torn away. A strong smell of mold eminated from it, but Daelin handled it as if it was made of the most precious jewels. Carefully, she opened it to a page near the end, the lettering nearly faded to nothing, and handed it to Dallah.

'... made of weathered stone, a flower of innumerable petals, seemingly aged, yet perfect in its clarity. Even with struck, no cracks or tensions appear. Judging from size, the wieght should be that of a nugget of gold, yet it feels no more than a feather in my hands. It is to my best belief and knowledge that it was created by the two opposing, yet attractive forces, as I cannot sense the inner core without a disruption. There is a resonation that is reminiscent of ter'angreals used by the Yellows to heal mental disorders, the same faint hint of Spirit, although so small that had it not been for my previous experience, I would not have detected it at all. Yet this is not the same as those previously mentioned, for the core that rejects my weaves speaks of something unknown. Saidar should not reject itself! Thus, dare I hope to believe that this could have been created by the combination of powers? And to what purpose? What is so difficult to heal that it requires the two? Or perhaps it is my mere imagination that draws me to this incredible conclusion...'

Here the page ended, torn away. The subsequent pages offered no more clues, most of the lettering either faded or smeared by dampness.
Daelin looked at Dallah's astonished face, eyes glittering. There was a moment of breathless silent.
"You see," Daelin said, as she carefully closed the book and tucked it back into her cloak, "Jurale never wrote what she thought... but are you thinking what she is?"
Daelin's excitement grew. She could harldy contain herself.
"Imagine, Dallah, if it were true. A ter'angreal... that could possibly Heal the Taint?"

Excitement was contagious. Caught in a fever of warring disbelief and wonder, Dallah reached forward to grasp the book, her eyes flying over the words Daelin had just read aloud.
"So there is hope," she said out loud.
"Yes," Daelin affirmed animatedly, as spirited as a young girl who had just discovered something new, "The White Tower will be changed forever... no, our Ajah will be transformed!"

Dallah then frowned, "But Jurale only wrote an account, we don't know where to find it. It could be anywhere!"
Her heart sank within her. She did not wish to go on another wild goose chase like the last Angreal Chase. Where so much was lost - her best friend, one time room-mate, Jarvaran and her Warder Tobias; and where so much was gained, her lost love, Al lex, destined to become mad in time. Unless the terangreal could heal him, could cleanse saidin.

Michelle's words echoed in her mind, "You aren't the Creator, Dallah, no-one can cleanse saidin."
But this could not be mere coincidence when she had first thought of cleansing saidin a day ago, and then Daelin suddenly appearing with this book. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.

"Indeed it does," Daelin agreed. Dallah started, unaware that she had just spoken aloud. She shook her head slowly as if she was under a ton of ocean. Slowly, she reached out to touch Daelin's arm. The fact of her solidity made her take a sharp breath.

With a blur of motion, she was up from her chair and had approached the window - her back facing her former Head.
Daelin was back. It was real. It could not be denied.
If only she had returned the day after Dallah had become the Highest of her Ajah. She would have tripped over herself to give the status of Head back to Daelin again. It was an honour she had not been ready for.
But she had embraced it, or the position had embraced her. And she could not let it go now. And that was the problem here. If Daelin had come back, did she wish to resume her role? Was it Dallah's place to stand in her way?

"Is there another purpose to your return, Daelin?" Dallah was surprised how smoothly, how nonchalantly that was voiced. The question hung in the trembling air.

Daelin raised her eyebrow slightly as a trembling Dallah asked her question. Was the younger woman afraid of her? Daelin certainly hoped not. Authority had its perks, but people loathed what they feared, and being loathed had become tiresome. No, there had been a reason why she chose Dallah to be her successor, even though Dallah had been young an inexperienced at the time. She couldn't forget the fallacies of her own leadership... 13 Red Sisters dead because of her own poor judgement. She could not forget that anguish.
"No," she said tiredly. "There isn't. The White Tower isn't for me. My life's work belongs to what I have just shown you, and if it became known then I could be even more persecuted. I have returned because I couldn't keep that to myself, as dire as the consequences may be."
There was an unspoken thought between them. Consequences, such as Zarlash and her faction, waiting for any weakness. Just as she had chosen Dallah, she had not chosen Zarlash. The woman was greedy and power hungry, and no doubt angry at her Head. And that anger would be redirected to Daelin herself soon enough. But she would deal with it... only another obstacle in pursuit of her heart's work. On the outside, Daelin was as calloused as a Red Sister could be, showing no mercy at the Gentlings she had overseen. But inside, her heart belonged to the dedication of Healing.
She turned to face Dallah, shoulders heavy with duty. "I leave it up to you, Sister, to choose whether or not to reveal this to the other Reds. I am prepared to accept either way."
She rose and bowed to her Head. Silently, she left, back to the apartments that were hers, to sort the thoughts that ran through her head.