Ripple Four: A New Council Forms
written by Caden Ives, Saphire en'Damier and Sigmund von'Danzig

OOC: These events take place about a month later.

Forever sentenced to wear his Shadow-branded features, the Gaidin Captain was not in a very good mood. The Yellow Ajah had told him that the Healing that Beatrise had failed to accomplish had made it impossible to restore his face. His body thought that he was fully restored as he were, and when they tried to Heal him, it did not think anything was wrong. He had been furious, but he had not placed the blame on them. Instead he had expressed his anger in the Training Yard, putting his body through a long torture of swordwileding and unarmed techniques.

The chamber of the Executive Council was restored after the assassination attempt, and Caden Ives entered it with his head held high, eyes straight forward. The summons had arrived an hour earlier to his chambers.

Inside, he found Sigmund von Danzig waiting together with Saphire Sedai. Sigmund had been elected to Master of Arms the preceding week, and had taken on the responsibilities Ellisande Gaidar had left behind when she stepped down. Under protest, Caden had agreed to carry out the duties of the Gaidin Captain until a replacement was found. He now hoped that they had found someone, and that he could finally move on with his life. But when he saw what was lying on the round table in the middle of the room, he knew that the Master of Arms had a different opinion.

It was the Rod of Dicipline.

Caden stared long at the staff before he finally looked p to meet Sigmund's eyes. He now understood why he had been summoned, and he his initial feeling was disappointment. Before he had been burned, he had returned from a mountain farm with a letter from the Shadereaver... an exiled Blademaster and Warder... and after reading it Sigmund had tested him and decided that the herons would be engraved upon his sabre. This had taken place only a week ago, and a it had been a public event. And now this, he thought dispassionately, Have they not understood that I don't stand on ceremony anymore? He had not held any speech after the event, and withdrawn to his study so that they would not have to meet his horrifying glare. The pain was gone, but his face looked just as demonic as when he had returned from the Claw Stone.

Although he wanted no more responsibility or publicity, he was ready to hear the wishes of the remaining Executive Council. A one word question rasped from his throat, a question that contained all needed to be said. "Why?"

Saphire met Caden Ives with calm, level, eyes as soon as he entered the room. She had dressed up for the day, a smart forrest green velvet lined dress. One hand was folded over the other across the newly refirnished Executive Council table. It was still uncertain whether she faced death by stilling in the months to come, but she felt obliged to serve at least one last task for the good. The well-earned promotion of Caden Ives, their once star pupil. Frankly, she had been dissapointed in his attitude following the day they marched on the Claw Stone. Had he not been proud? Defending the Tower with minimaly trained recruits, earning the heron mark on his sword, and surviving two burnings?

He simply rasped, "Why?" The infamous Rod of Dicipline lay across the table before the Master of Training's seat. And Saphire was the first to answer.

Her face set into an eiry reflection of her mother when she prophecised with serenity and calm. For a moment, one could have mistaken her for a younger version of Amora en'Damier.

"Because it could be no one else."

And then Saphire's face broken into a self-mocking grin. The question had been so obvious, it deserved such an uncharacteristic answer.

"You should know, Caden, more than anyone else." The Representative began, cocking her head curiously. "Who led half-taught trainees in the caverns of the lower Tower to risk their lives in the name of what we hold sacred? Who cut the shadowspawn off from invading the Tower from the inside, aware and circumventing the underground connection between the New and Old Tower? Who almost died, twice, defending the Grey Tower in the name of all that is good? You." Saphire stated as if the answer were as obvious as the nose on his face. "The Trainees, they trust you. You know how to lead them, how to teach them, how to keep them alive and motated, how to turn them into something more than what they are. No wonder so many of them are ready for raising. There is no one better suited for suceeding Sigmund."

It was the first time she and Sigmund had agreed on anything in a long, long, long time. Surely they could not be mistaken.

Sigmund sat back in his Master of Arms chair. It was unfortunate that Ellisande had to take leave of her post during the epic battle with the Shadow, but thus it had to be. Just as Sigmund had to be promoted to preserve the leadership of the Yards, so someone else had to be promoted to Master of Training.

That someone stood before him now. Instead of being greatful, he merely questioned why. Sigmund smirked.

"Take up the Rod of Discipline for a moment," he said, gesturing. "Hold it in your hand. Do that, and then tell me that you would not be the ideal person to discipline the Trainees, to make sure they obey Tower Law and follow the Light. I know you, Caden. I know you will be vigilant."

Frozen in silence, Caden watched the thing on the table for harrowingly long seconds after Sigmund had finished speaking. Though he did not want to do what was required of him he could not disobey the word of the Master of Arms. I am not worthy, he thought as he began to walk towards the table. He stole a quick glance towards Saphire, remembering her words. ...No matter what everyone think I have accomplished. Thoughts of the peril he and his companions had faced washed over his mind like acid... denying him to see the good in putting something in order after causing the damage himself. "I have no honour anymore," he rasped as he came to stand by the table, eyes still cast on the staff, "no matter what the two of you try to make of me. I let Shadow enter our midst, and nearly killed us all in doing so. Without me, the Dawn of Blood had not been able to accomplish what he did. I let him in. He served right under my nose."

His hand did not go for the staff yet, but instead he looked up into Sigmund's eyes. "Before Drelle Tai'shar slew him, he told me that I was only a means to an end. That statement still lingers in my mind. To what end did he mean? He had already failed... his planning had seemingly been for naught, so why did he say such a thing? He had the power to see what needed to be done in accomplishing goals... through Reversed Prophecy. I know little of such things, but that was what he called it.

"This haunts me. Could I be fulfilling the steps to the Shadow's victory with the actions I take? Every time I make a decision, I wonder if Edon Santagar foresaw it. And now, this is your problem as well. Can you risk bestowing this honour and faith upon me?"

Looking back to the Rod of Dicipline his right hand picked it up. He held it firmly in his grip and pressed it to his heart. Inside, he let out a long sigh... trying to acknowledge the fact that he had little choice. The Pattern had more in store for him, and he would not be let off the hook to lead the life of a common deformed man. Solace was still beyond his grasp. Respite was unattainable. His need for solitary rest denied. Yet what pained him the most was the fact that he saw Sigmund's point. "Consciously, I will never let history repeat itself. My condition for accepting this is the following: I ask of you to have allowance to reap what I have sown. By my sabre and my hope for salvation, I will hunt the ones that remain down and make them bathe in their own blood. That way, I can still defy the evil that might still wait beyond the horizon. If I stay, if I train and harden the youths that will make our future, I will also do what I can to keep the future safe. I will cleanse the taint form the Yards if it might even be the last thing I ever do."

The new Master of Arms listened to Caden's condition with an amused smile. I had expected as much. "Master of Training Caden Ives, I accept your condition. Hunt down your prey, and make them pay for what they have done here." Lord Sigmund gestured, and his servant Wilhelm brought three glasses of wine. Offering one to Saphire and one to Caden, he said, "I would not have it any other way. To Caden Ives!" he finished, lifting his glass in a toast.

"Good luck."

Epilogue: Beneath the Surface
~Ripple One: The Grand Hall
~Ripple Two: The Infirmiry
~Ripple Three: The Final Truth
~Ripple Four: A New Council Forms
~Ripple Five: The Ball of Raisings

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