Ripple Three: A Shadow in a Black Robe
written by Jhedan Storm-foot (NPC), Neilan Davram, Antar al'Kadar and Amora en'Damier

Looking placidly over his shoulder, Jhedan Storm-foot threaded along the corridors of the drin'far'ji quarters.

Sometimes, he missed the life at sea. The great architectural masterworks on the mainland were nothing compared to the power and vastness of the Sea of Storms. After he had taken to shore, he had still kept as many of his old traditions as he could. He still wore five rings in each air, which defined him to be a Swordmaster ... if he had still been on the ships. He even wore yellow garments underneath his night-black robe. He had begun to wore them here in the Grey Tower mere weeks ago after his skills with the blade had been recognized.

His dark brown eyes found the door he sought, and he looked again over his shoulder with a dispassionate calm. Sure that none was close, he opened the door and stepped in. A quick look told him that he was alone with the Trainee ... like they had suspected. "By all means, drin'far'ji," he said when he saw the expression in Antar al'Kadar's eyes. "Do not rise to bow, jellyfish. And don't reach for your blade either, you know that any attempt to kill me would be futile."

Looking at the empty bed on the other side of the room, Jhedan shook his head with a smile. "Has it become lonely in here, shorebound? Don't be agitated, for a split sail is split."

OOC: These events occur between morning and noon the same day.

Neilan was hurrying through the halls towards his rooms when he caught sight of a sa'ji'alantin up ahead of him. He quickly slowed his pace to a walk, less he find himself doing penance.

He barely recognized the man, and he thought his name might be Jhedan. He had missed quite a bit when he had been kidnapped along with Novice Josaine and Talia Sedai. What a nightmare that had been! He still had a long bruise on the side of his head.

His stomache had not stopped turning since he had seen the young drin'far'ji hanging and swaying in the wind outside. It was sick.

The sa'ji'alantin turned suddenly and entered a room. Neilan frowned and stopped walking, recognizing the room as Antar's and the young drin who had died outside. Neilan swallowed hard and a very bad feeling began to rise in the pit of his stomache.

He shrunk back against the wall and hurried as quietly as he could towards the room and paused a few feet from the door. The words that floated out of the room made Neilan's blood freeze in his veins. His hand found the hilt of his sword, but he waited. He wanted to hear more . . .

Turning at the sound of the door, wishing to be alone, Antar goes to speak, then realises who it is. Hatred in its purest form seeps into his eyes and his hands grip the sheets of the bed, his fingernails stabbing into his palms so furiously that anyone else may have cried out. Through gritted teeth he tries not to shout, "I will never in my life bow to you." He shakes visibly, gripping even harder. "I vow i will kill you, Jhaeden." He spats out the mans name as if it was the lowest thing in the world, or the taste of something rotten.

A smile crept into Jhedan's gaunt features, making his face look like a skull. "Is that so?"

Rather lazily, the sa'ji'alantin folded his arms and studied the young man, the dark cavern of his eyes glinting with amusement. "I was going to ask something from you, but now you have changed the topic. I take it you hate me for the death of your bunkmate, then? How is that? For I certainly didn't kill him, nor did my comrades. Look into my eyes, you will see that I tell the truth. And if I did kill him, I would certainly not fear telling you about it. I'm no coward with my tongue, no jellyfish like you."

Running a hand over his chin and then over his bald head, he considered the resolve of the Trainee. "Though what you just said tells me that you must have teeth somewhere in all that soft goo that defines your character. Tell me, even though I didn't kill your dear friend, would you try to take my life anyway?" He paused then, his eyes narrowing to slits. His presence filled the room completely, more so than the fact of his body. "And if you would, how? From where I'm standing you have seven ways to die, and that without me drawing my sword."

His ivory-hilted, curved blade remained untouched by his side, he did not have to rest his hand on the pommel to make it seen.

'What?!?' says that little voice in his head. "You, you didnt kill him?" Antar's rage seems turned off. Now he seems a little unsure of himself. "Even if this was true there is more too this than what you are telling me..." He trails off, then says "And i do not fear you killing me now. You have no real reason too. Besides, it might look a little conspicuous, two drins dying that share the same room?"

Neilan suddenly let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding. Every muscle in his body seemed to quiver as he listened to the conversation between Antar and Jhedan. He licked his lips, his blue eyes darting furtively up and down the hallways.

Part of him wanted to take off running to find Caden Ives, while another part of him wanted to draw his sword and attack from behind. He would have the advantage - but was he ready to face a true battle with a sa'ji'alantin?

His palms became sweaty as he remembered the harsh punishment Ellisande Gaidar, the Mistress of Arms, had given him when he had attacked a fellow drin. It was forbidden to raise a weapon against your brother. But, was this so-called sa'ji'alantin trully a brother?

He said he wasn't responsible for the death of Antar's bunkmate. Yet, Antar seemed certain he would be killed by Jhedan.

He hesitated, one sweaty hand gripping his sword hilt.

"Maybe you are right," said Jhedan, amusement still glinting in his dark eyes, "then maybe you are not. Consider the fact that other jellyfishes have ventured into shallow waters, and before they knew it they were burnt by the sun. But some chose to be stranded on their own. Like your friend for example. The truth is that he took his own life."

He let the revelation linger.

""Seems you shorebound just cannot deal with pressure. You are all made of jelly. You just turn flat on your back when an adversity present itself. You are to be a Warder someday," he said while he took a step forward, looking down on the drin'far'ji with contempt, "I wonder if you will take your own life and be gone from all problems, like your friend. Or if you will deal with the pressure... Now, no more idle talk."

The mocking tone was gone then, and his voice lowered. Now it was the sa'ji'alantin speaking. "I have an assignment for you. Will you obey or need I beat you into submission? You know what always happen in the end. You will scream for mercy and you will obey. Need we go throught he procedure again?"

Antar glared sullenly. It could not be true, Luantar would never had done that unless he did something terrible, and even then it would be hard to believe. Turning to Jhedan, Antar gathered his hatred once more. "You may beat me this time, but i fear i will not submit." He says this coldly, impassively, and waits.

Neilan was still holding his breath as the threats flowed from Jhedan's mouth. The shock of what he was hearing had immobilized him. Antar's haughtly retort jolted Neilan back to life. Jhedan was really going to beat Antar.

His legs, somehow, sprang to life and he was sprinting down the halls. He had to find help. He had to get someone. Someone he could trust. Who could he trust now? Panic was filling his chest as he turned this way and that and before long he ran straight into . . .

With a sneer, Jhedan unfolded his arms produced his practice-blade. "You take too much pride in yourself, jellyfish." The fist strike snapped over Antar's left cheek and returned back over his knee. And then he blows rained, cross-crossing over limbs and back after the young man landed on the floor between the two bunk beds.

Not until a full minute of blows, he seized his labour and yanked back the drin'far'ji's head by the hair. "The way I understand it, you were close with Luantar. Did you tell the Officers anything about him and you being in liege with us? Did you tell them anything? Speak up or I'll continue."

Being dragged up, Antar held his swelling cheek. At the question he sneered, "They wouldnt do anything if told..." Then, he grins, "Youll have to do better than that," the smile becomes grim enough for an Aielmen about to dance the spears, and a dangerous light enters his eyes, and he starts to chuckel.

"There are no easy answers to these questions." The elder Aes Sedai replied. Yet the way this Ji'alantin had answered was without thought, depth, understanding, or wisdom. Amora Sedai turned from the Ji'alantin, leaving him on his own path forever. Her enturage: grey-haird Nalia and her son Grek in the en'Damier sapphire blue and silver livry, and the Brown Sister Zaria Sedai who wrote the eldest Aes Sedai's biography, formed a V behind Amora Sedai.

Amora en'Damier Sedai's quest for a new Warder, one to replace Saphire Sedai's late father, still bore no fruit. And yet Amora Sedai's dreams prophesized that the shadow of trouble was lurking in the Tower, again. Her Eyes and Ears reports were growing steadily worse. The Pattern did now allow enough time to wait, and yet, the last founder of the Tower believed that it would provide. Just as it had provided her a second chance.

In her shifted attention it seemed the ancient Aes Sedai had not carved a clear path along the Warder Yard, fore she felt the impact of another body against her. Through her black velvet hood Amora Sedai snapped her attention forward, and down. Her enturage now moved forward as if in protection of the Lady from this insult. They surrounded the individual like hawks wings sweeping forward, and Amora Sedai the head looking down upon a wayward rabbit.

Leanna's son . . Amora frowned in thought. . . son of the woman who had taken my husband and Warder. My daughter's half-brother. This is not mere chance. If she had not sensed that this was a critical turn of the Pattern she would have born down upon the young man who had made this rude presumption. Instead she paused and looked expectantly. She was shrouded in black velvet and surrounded by her followers.

An unspoken, "Yes?" resounded in the brief silence.

Looking up, Neilan nearly forgot why he had come running for help. It was Amora Sedai. He swallowed hard and backed up a few steps and bowed as low as he could manage. His heart was racing and his hands trembled. Of all the people to run into - Amora Sedai was probably the most frightening.

He knew little of the strife that had existed between her and his mother, but he knew enough to tread lightly. He remembered how upset Leanna had been when Amora Sedai had taught Kylara Dreaming. He did not know, however, that she had been married to his father first.

"A sa'ji'alantin is beating up a drin'far'ji!" he gasped, pointing back the way he had come. "He threatened to kill him!"

He cringed under the disapproving looks from the bodyguards that started to crowd him and he scooted back a little more. His hand was still gripping the hilt of his sword. "Jhedan sa'ji'alantin and Antar Drin'far'ji." he added as if that could help his case.

Amora Sedai raised the fingers of her right hand from her draping cloak. A hint of electric blue lining flashed in the afternoon light. "At ease, he is forgiven." She ordered softly. The others fell back, save for Zaria Sedai who glanced questioningly at the elder sister, as if asking, "Him??" Zaria knew as well as any sister or brother in the Tower that this was the Amyrlin Seat's son. All hesitated to bond him for fear of what the Amyrlin Seat would think. Whoever bonded him was expected to approach her first and would then be whispered about through the Halls for months. But the biographer also knew more of the history between the two women, and that gave her greater alarm. Amora cooly ignored her, fixing her gaze instead on the young man before her.

"Do not take me for a sister of the black shawl, Neilan Davram." Those were unlikely words from an Aes Sedai taught at the White Tower, a place where the Black Ajah was little more than an unspoken myth. But they were there as if speaking volumes of her awareness. The lack of rank in his address was also curious sign, as if they were famliar as family. "Fear not. Despite what your mother may have told you, I am not uncompassionate."

She raised her chin to the direction Neilan had run from. "Show me."

Neilan felt a wave of relief pass over himself as Amora Sedai seemed to believe him. "This way," he said, then added a belated, "Aes Sedai," as he suddenly remembered himself. Having someone in charge helped ease his tightened muscles.

He took off hurrying in the direction he had come, glancing back every few steps to see how quickly the Aes Sedai followed. He was ancy, anxious to catch Sa'ji'alantin Jhedan beating Drin'far'ji Antar. Another death in the halls would crush many of the Drin'far'ji.

"This way, we must hurry." Neilan said, urgently. It wasn't long before Antar's room came into view. Neilan stopped a few doors away, and pointed. "They are in there," he said softly.

He said that this Sa'ji'alantin would kill his comrad. Amora Sedai thought as they walked at a less than leisurely pace. If this "Sa'ji'alantin" was one from the dream, then there will be grave recompence. Amora Sedai would not tolerate it, not in her house, not again.

Nalia whispered in her ear words of counsil. Grek's hand slid subtly to the hilt of his sword. And Zaria took a breath. The V of Amora Sedai's followers then bore faces of steele watching all of the hidden corners.

"Behind us, Neilan." Amora Sedai ordered softly.

She hovered like the dark ghost of night, cold and cryptic. Her cloak billowed as if from a dream; brief flashes revealed the illuminous electric blue of her cause until she paused, then the shroud enclosed her once again. As the door opened the elder Aes Sedai's presence doubled. She turned her hooded gaze on the Sa'ji'alantin.

Yes. He was recognized for what he was. The boy's look called forth images of slick oily darkness that poisoned all it touched. There is no doubt now, not when prophecy is so clear. Yet she must protect the facad of unawareness . .

"Leave," the ground began to tremble with her voice, "NOW."

. . . whether she meant the room, or the Tower, was left to interpretation. But not to negotiation.

Jhedan grew quite ill-tempered when the Trainee opposed him, and the chuckle the boy begun was rendered quite short as he twacked his practice-blade over his insolent mouth.

With some effort, he calmed himself. No shorebound would make him loose his temper. Instead he used a different approach, and one he believed in.

"Consider, that you will be charged for betrayal either way, for we will name you if we are taken. I assure you that, for you won't be able to tell the truth when you claim you didn't know what has been stirring. The question they will ask; is why you did not go to the Officers to begin with ... and thus stalled our rising. I promise you, Antar al'Kadar, that you should be careful with the allegiances you make. You should know that the Yards won't be alike before the day is over. You'd be wise to follow the path I have provided for you. In the end, you will thank me," in his honesty, Jhedan framed quite a fatherly apperence ... despite his slight height. "On my word as your superior and on my honour as a swordsman, I promise you this."

He stood still, his soft words lingering in the small room. "I shouldn't need to do this to you, because I know that in your wisdom, you will find that I'm right. You know that you are not alone in serving us. And you know that we are a force to be reckoned with. We can alter the course of Tower history, together. And you will be there, and rewarded thus."

Taking one step forward, Jhedan held out his open hand to the drin'far'ji. "Know your fate, shorebound, for you have no other choice. Now take my hand and end this madness."

It was then the door opened behind him, and Jhedan spun to face Two women and one man on the threshold. And wasn't there a fourth behidn them? The one in the middle, he knew to be Amora Sedai. He was just to speak up when she got her word in between.

"Leave," the ground began to tremble with her voice, "NOW."

His mind was racing, had she been listening? NO, he would have heard that many lurking outside the door. Deciding his path, the Atha'an Miere sa'ji'alantin bowed in correctly shown respect to the Aes Sedai, "Yes, Aes Sedai." He took pride in the calmness he showed. When he straightened and made for the door, he spoke up in mid-stride. "I know this looks quite bad, but it is my obligation as his superior to discipline him when he has misbehaved, so please don't judge me too harshly," he said in a low voice, "I wish you all a pleasant day." A very pleasant one, indeed. He took in the faces of the newly arrived people, and found a drin'far'ji among them. His dark eyes did not catch any light when his gaze passed over him. But Neilan Davram ... the Amyrlin's son ... was widely known in the Yards, and not least by him and his two companions.

Yet as he rounded to the right in the corridor, he shot a look filled with meaning to Antar, just before his face disappeared out of the doorframe.

From the velvet hood that shrouded her face Amora Sedai observed the darkfriend's compliance. Her face was utterly trained to mask the feeling of nausea that came with seeing ones tainted such as him, yet she followed his figure for as long as her view would allow. Whether or not he suspected could not be determined, and in that there was grave danger. She stood in silence even as Nalia, closest to the door, remained peering down the hall. I will have to send an assassin after him before he sends one for me. She thought grimly, then turned her emerald eyes toward the room. And then, there are these boys . .

She gestured to Grek and Nalia with two slight ivory fingers. They bowed and took their place outside the closed door. Zaria remained by her side, clutching a notepad to her chest.

As the door closed Amora Sedai's posture reduced to its normal size. She drew back the hood of her cloak revealing true grey hair in wings of white above her ears against a head of raven black bound in gems. "Come Neilan," she gestured to the Drin'far'ji who must be Antar, "be with the one you have saved." In the pause she wove an intricate weave of spirit, fine as lace but hard as steel to guard the room against eavesdroppers.

"You are both in grave danger." Her voice spoke volumes in the too-small room. Yes, they all were in great danger. But none could know that. An alternate reason needed establishment for her intervention, and now for their close association with her. Amora Sedai did not adopt the youth haphazardly, everyone knew that . .

"I will take you under my wing as potential Warders. They will not approach you then."

. . but everyone did know that she was searching for a new Warder. What better reason for taking a personal interest in these two? Indeed, what better reason.

As Jhedan turned his back and left, Antar wiped his mouth, and his wrist came away with blood. 'You didnt win that one, Jhedan,' he thought grimly. Picking himself up off of the floor, Antar winced, though he tried to show it, before falling once more to the floor and gasping, holding his side. Apparently he had been hit so hard that a rib or two had broken. Gritting his blooded teeth through the pain, looking up through one eye, the other being swelled shut, Antar spoke, "That would be very much appreciated, Amora Sedai."

As Amora Sedai drew forward her hands rose from the depths of her cloak. Iridescent blue shimmered in the dim light framing a well-dressed Andorean figure. The finest azure silken lace flashed for an instant. She knelt and spoke matter-of-factly, not only to Antar, but to Neilan as well. "I may call upon you for a favor in the future." Of course, that did not include their reciprocal and temporary protection. She touched her palms to Antar's torso with the light grace of an artist. "That day may never come, but if it does, you will remember this." When she had finished speaking the Drin'far'ji was half-healed. She rose.

Amora Sedai did not heal others often; the last was over a decade ago. But it was necessary to preserve the boy's appearance until he could arrive at Beatrice Sedai's care, yet not so far as to weaken the elder Aes Sedai considerably. He would find himself able to walk, although not without pain.

Turning back to the door, Amora Sedai spoke softly in Zaria Sedai's ear. "See to it that they pack their necessities and report to Beatrice Sedai for healing and their new uniforms."

Neilan's jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes must have popped out of his head as Amora Sedai spoke on and on about protecting them, potential warders and favors. His blood nearly ran cold in his veins. What under the Light had he gotten himself tangled in?

He could still hear his mother's rising voice and flaming eyes when she found out the extensive training Kylara had received from Amora Sedai. He hadn't a clue as to why the subject of Amora Sedai was such a taboo, although he knew it was something pretty important in the past. Burn the Wheel for spinning him out so late!

The only connections he had made seemed to lay with his sister Kylara and Saphire Sedai. (Neilan knows nothing of his family - and thinks that Kylara and Saphire are just near-sisters the way Leanna is near-sisters with Miahala Sedai and Talia Sedai.)

He watched, unmoving, as Amora Sedai Healed Antar Drin'far'ji. He licked his lips, his mind sailing from the events that just happened to the events of the morning to Amora Sedai's offer. He was frightened, but should he accept such an offer?

He bowed low before speaking up. "Aes Sedai, my mother . . ." he started, but he trailed off as her eyes fell on him. He licked his lips and fumbled for what to say next. "It might be best if . . ." Neilan paused as a thought came to him suddenly. "It would be my honor to have your protection," he finished finally.

If Amora and Leanna had a past, whether it be good or bad - she would have the keys to Neilan's past and maybe, just maybe he could learn about it.

Amora Sedai's attention drew then from Zaria Sedai's plump round face to her late husband's son. She searched for signs of Jaisen in the boy but failed to find a hint in all of the black-haired Cairhien in him. Neilan chose then to stammer out a response. Amora watched the boy struggle for the words to refuse her generous offer; until, for an unknown reason, he changed his mind.

Interesting.

Thunder drummed above their heads. The ceiling creaked as if suddenly no longer strong enough to hold the Hall together. Now she was sure they must depart, the storm was coming.

"It will be a reciprocal relationship." Her melodious tone included both trainees. She gave a faint smile. "Come," she extended her ivory hand, "it is no longer safe here, for any of us."

As the younglings moved towards the door, Amora whispered in Nalia's ear. As her orders passed the elder Sedai drew her midnight hood to hide her face. Her trusted stewerdess curtsied and fled the hall ahead of them. Soon the assasin would be dispatched and the witness would fall silent.

Calm and assured ike conspirators in the night they fled the Warder Hall, even as the floors above them began to burn.


Now it begins.

Chapter Two: The Martyr's Letter
~Ripple One: All But Pride Mended
~Ripple Two: Serpent in Shawl
~Ripple Three: A Shadow in a Black Robe
~Ripple Four: Seekings
~Ripple Five: The Twin Archers
~Ripple Six: Aftermath
~The Final Ripple

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