Shalimar Shiawase
First Post
A Life Not Lived: A Trip Through the Arch
By Shalimar Shiawase
I am writing this journal to remind me of the difficulties I have already faced on my path, to remind me of the past to give strength to the future, to escape the horror.
I had been sent to Sheriam Sedai that morning for a prank I had pulled on Anja, she was one of the Accepted in charge of our classes. She was always mean to us, switching us and sending us to Sheriam’s study, for the smallest infractions. Its not the prank that maters though, the problem was that I was caught, and Sheriam Sedai, being Sheriam Sedai, learned of it and sent me to the scullery mistress because of it.
It was a free day for the novices, but I had to be inside cleaning dishes and scrubbing pots instead of being with Sirsei or Tasha outside in the glorious spring day. The mistress of the kitchens was a large ugly creature swathed in layers of fat, and she delighted in torturing those Accepted and Novices who were sent to her care. I think she envies us; to be surrounded by women who can use the power, and be unable to touch it must be horrible. I digress though, back to the story.
After crawling into bed, I fell asleep promptly, almost as soon as my head touched the pillow. I was having a nightmare of a sort, but the details fled my head when I awoke in a sweat. Standing in the open doorway was Sheriam Sedai, looking down on me with pity in her eyes. I admit to being scared I have never seen Sheriam pity anyone, and I wondered if this wasn’t it, the end of my time at the tower. I racked my sleep-fuddled brain for the reason, but coming up with nothing I shrugged.
“Dress daughter, the time is coming.” she said. I was utterly stupefied, what time? It didn’t take a second command to get me moving, I knew that a sister does not like to be kept waiting by even another sister, a mere novice, I dressed hurriedly in my gown of pure white.
Following Sheriam through the halls I knew so well, we quickly left the familiar passages and halls, and journeyed lower into the very bowels of the tower. She turned to face me as we approached the last door in an unfamiliar hallway.
“Child, now is the time, you are to pass through the arches tonight. You have the opportunity now to refuse, and no one will hold it against you. If you refuse now you will still be allowed two more chances to pass through the arch. On the third refusal you will be removed from the tower, and given silver to support yourself for a year. Decide now child.” She hesitated before continuing on, “even I could not go through the first time Shalimar, and there is no shame.”
“I am ready Sheriam Sedai, I am not afraid.” This was it, the first step to becoming a full sister; I had wanted this for so long, that the yes was out of my mouth before the significance of the answer dawned on me. I was sure I was ready; I knew this could not be that dangerous, or they would not let us go through with it. I was wrong, on both counts.
“Girl, even a full sister is afraid of these trials, I am not sure whether you are being brave or foolish, but in either case you are committed. After this point a refusal to go on will put you out of the Tower.” She sighed and opened the door onto a room I had never seen before but that would determine my future. Thinking on what Sheriam Sedai had said, I began to dread entering the room, but this was my wish as well. With the two conflicting emotions inside my breast I entered the room and was met by three ageless faces, the faces of women I looked up to, women I envied.
The first wore a yellow shawl, Delia Sedai, was very well respected among the Yellow Ajah, and she had taken a special interest in me, expecting that I would follow her choice of the yellow Ajah, as I was talented in healing, the sole purpose of the Yellow. I did not like to think what she would do when she learned I wanted to be a Green sister, a member of the Battle Ajah. I wanted to defend my home, and my people. It was more then a desire; it was my duty as a Sheinerian to defend the light against the shadow.
The second woman I knew as well, Anaiya Sedai, wore a shawl of Green. She knew exactly which Ajah I meant to choose, she was the Aes Sedai who taught me the differences between the seven Ajahs. She had known since that first day which I was going to choose, and she encouraged me when I asked about the Green Ajah, and what it meant.
The third woman I did not know at all, nor really wanted to meet her. She was stern faced with a bun of graying hair; she was wearing a Red shawl. The Red were the antithesis of the Green, no two Ajahs disliked each other more, or thought less of the other.
“Who comes before us?” The three women asked without looking at me, directing the question at Sheriam. She put a motherly hand on my shoulder, and gave it a quick squeeze before replying.
“One who would find acceptance.”
“Is she ready to be washed clean of what she was?” Asked Delia Sedai. Sheriam helped me remove my white Novice dress for the last time. When I stood naked before them, my dress folded neatly in the corner they continued, with my sense of unease rising.
“She stands ready to be washed clean of what she was.” Sheriam finally replied.
“Child, now you will hear what no woman hears until they stand in this chamber, listen and remember. This is a Ter’angreal,” she says pointing toward three twisted arches, “each time you step through you will be shown a version of how your life might be. Each time there will be a Silver Arch for you to return through, the way back will come but once, be steadfast.”
Delia Sedai indicated that I should enter the arch, “The way back will come but once, be steadfast.” By this time I was shaking, torn between fear and joy. Stepping into that first archway was the bravest thing I had ever done. I had never been more frightened of anything, not even of the Myrddraal that had almost killed me.
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I stepped through the ring, and into a corridor. The corridor was decorated quite lavishly in a very pleasing style; a crimson carpet ran its length and all the furnishings were of beautiful gold and silver, chairs, tables, tapestries that seemed woven of the precious metal. I do have good taste don‘t I?
It was then that I realized I wasn’t alone. “Sirsei, prepare my throne.” I said dismissing her as if she was nothing. I watched her crawl on her belly toward a large gilded door, feeling nothing at the servitude I was forcing on my closest friend. I recall thinking that she was taking too long, and needed a good whipping, to remind her she only lived to serve me.
Reflecting on her lack of subservience I entered my throne room to pronounce judgment. On a raised dais stood my throne; a beautiful thing carved of hard pine, inlaid with gold and gems, enough to purchase a kingdom the size of Andor. It was a wondrous thing, a lion of white taller then a man, with a beautifully carved dove perched on its shoulder. Again I felt nothing in connection with this beautiful throne. I was surrounded by luxury, wealth beyond my wildest dreams. Slaves crouched and cowered around me, not daring to look up at me for fear of my punishment.
I recognized some of them, Jain, who took it upon him to teach me to help others, here his tongue, were cut out, and his eyes were stitched shut. The stitches he taught me used to punish his insolence. Yuri his legs shattered for objecting when I scarred Tasha’s face for being more beautiful than I. I stood looking around at my handiwork, the pleasure I took in causing their pain. I was growing bored, torture seemed so easy, and not worth the trouble. I was mistress of all I saw, I could do anything, and I was bored.
On the inside I saw myself and was frightened. I knew I was horrible, but I couldn’t stop myself from hurting them. There was something about them it was wrong. I looked at Tasha, and I realized what it was, they were not resisting if they had it would have brought severe punishment, but even the way they held themselves it showed there was nothing there, their personality was gone.
The way back will come but once, be steadfast.
I wondered where that came from, it echoed in my head before fading away. I was quite amazed when the gilded doors to my throne room changed to a small silver arch. The only reason I ventured near it was curiosity. I was almost trapped forever in that place of horror; the only thing that saved me was curiosity. Sometimes I still wake in a sweat wondering what I would have done if I was trapped in such a place.
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I fell to my knees on the cool marble sweat drenching my body. Shivering I looked up at Sheriam Sedai, my eyes had to be as wide as saucers from the look she gave me. Slowly I got to my feet, trying not to think about what had happened.
“You have been washed clean of what you were,” intoned Delia Sedai. I looked at Sheriam Sedai and she smiled at me encouragingly.
“Was it real?” I asked quietly my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“No one knows child, no one knows,” she replied sedately, “will you continue?” I looked at her as if she was crazy. I could not imagine anyone voluntarily going through that light cursed arch once they had been through once. It was unbelievable that the sisters would expect me to go through again. They were all horrid women, worse then trollocs.
I seriously was considering refusing to continue, it was the easy choice. Only a fool, or a man knowingly walks into such pain, when they have the choice. But, if I refused I would never be a sister. Never. It would be unbearable, I had gone through so much already, and to give up now seemed to be giving up on myself. I said something that no sane person would ever say. “Yes”
“The way back will come but once, be steadfast,” intoned Anaiya Sedai as I entered the arch again.
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I looked at myself wondering where I was this time, wondering what would the torture be. I was wearing a sheer green gown that I had worn on the day I left my fathers keep to journey to Tar Valon. I was home, in my family’s fortress. I smiled for a moment glad to be home, but only for a moment. It was easy to notice the problem; the fortress was black with flame and smoke. Twisted copses lay about, clad both in black mail, and in the more familiar heavy mail her father’s warriors wore. I stumbled through the familiar passages, trying to find someone alive.
I searched for what seemed like hours before I came to my father’s throne room. The door hung ajar, and there were sounds of fighting coming from within. I ran into the room, to see my greatest fear.
There were only ten guardsmen standing with my father. All of their armor was dented and chipped showing wear that could only have come in fierce fighting. As I entered a pair of Myrddraal as deadly as they were graceful, swung there black blades at the Uncle Kirlin, slashing through his armor and into his side, leaving him laying in a pool of his own blood. My uncle, the one who carried me on the shoulder lay there dying, and my feet were frozen. I couldn’t move my feet, I was terrified, my entire life was ending, everyone I cared about, and I could do nothing. As I watched the Myrddraal and trollocs moved like a pack of wolves, circling darting in. Each time, another part of my heart died.
I reached frantically for the power as I was taught, but nothing was there. All of my training, and I could not weave the thinnest flow. I tried to create a wall of air between my father and the Trollocs, but nothing happened. My power failed, I had failed.
The way back will come but once, be steadfast.
I finally found my feet, and rushed to his side as he lay bleeding, with their swords still in him. He tried to warn me to leave, but I couldn’t leave him like this, not like this. He struggled to his feet still bleeding, and pushed me away from him and the trollocs. He pushed me through the arch as it was appearing behind me. The last I saw of him before I fell through the light was a Myrddraal separating his smiling face from his shoulders. He was proud that he had protected me one last time before he fell.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even prepared for the violent return, I let myself fall to the cool marble, relishing the pain. I lay there, unable to rise, sobbing violently, with my head in my hands, shaking.
“Its almost over child, just once more and it will all be over.” Sheriam rubbed my back comfortingly, lifting me to a crouch and hugging me against her.
“I failed him, I failed, I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t save him.” I said in a small tired voice, still sobbing.
“Child, what each woman faces is her own, you need not tell anyone what you faced.” Sheriam said gently, steadying me.
“You are washed clean of false pride.” Anaiya Sedai intoned solemnly.
“Will you continue?” I nodded numbly, moving woodenly towards the Ter’angreal that had so unnerved me. Before entering it, I heard the Red intone formally, the familiar phrase “The way back will come but once, be steadfast.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I entered a room, furnished quite comfortably with a well-stuffed couch, a cradle, and a man holding a baby. He looked down at the baby in his arms, and then at me with an expression of pure joy on his face. Rocking her slowly in his arms, he moved towards me and turned so that I could see the child’s face. Smiling he held her out to me. I wondered what would happen this time. She had eyes as blue as the sky, like her grandfather’s, and hair as dark as mine. She was a wondrous thing; she was a little life, dependent on me, trusting in me…. Loving me.
“What’s wrong Shalimar? Sharrel is certainly not a trolloc, and she does love it when her mother holds her.” Yuri said, gently passing the girl into my arms. Sharrel, my beautiful little girl, how I miss you I will never stop loving you. As I held you in wonder that first time, and rocked you like my father rocked me, you cooed, like a beautiful little dove, and with trembling fingers reached up and grabbed hold of my nose. Laughing I twirled you around till we fell on the couch together. Yuri sat on the couch and hugged us to him smiling with love at both of us. Smiling at me, and our Daughter. Our Daughter, I never realized how beautiful those words were till I held her in my arms.
I would do anything for her, even die I realized, even if Sheriam Sedai was right and she was not real, here she was real, and here I was surrounded by love. I was beginning to dread going back, I had everything I could ever want Yuri loved me, and a beautiful baby girl.
The way back will come but once, be steadfast.
I saw the arch form, and even as it was forming I started to cry. This might not be real, and I still had responsibilities to my friends, to my people. I couldn’t decide the desire to stay with my daughter warring with my sense of responsibility. In the end I remembered something my father said to me before I left. He said, “Duty is heavier then a mountain, and death lighter than a feather. We will always do our duty even when it hurts, to do less is to let the shadow win.” Crying I rose and handed Sharrel to Yuri. He had a look of astonishment, and hurt when I backed into the archway. His last words followed me into darkness, and follow me still. “We love you.”
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This time I was prepared and did not fall. I looked at Sheriam, hurt and angry. Angry at myself for leaving Sharrel and Yuri. Angry at Aes Sedai, for putting me through this. I have never been angrier or felt more alone, then I did at that moment.
“I hate Aes Sedai,” I growled my voice so deep and guttural that even I didn’t recognize it as mine. Looking up to glare at the Red sister, tears flowing down my face unabated, I noticed for the first time, we were not alone in the room. The room although larger then I first thought was filled with women, all wearing shawls. At the center of the room stood the Amyrlin Seat, resplendent in her multi color shawl.
She stood looking at me for a moment, then the corner of her mouth twisted upward, “Daughter, as far as I know, every woman to ever pass through that Ter’angreal has said the same thing, going back as far as I can remember,” continuing in a more formal manner, “You have been washed clean of all that you were, pure you are, you have been found worthy of acceptance. As one of the accepted daughter, it is your right to choose what to study, take care that you choose wisely, or the choice will be made for you.” She smiles at me trying to be reassuring. “Congratulations daughter, you have earned it.”
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Never have I felt such shame, or such pain, as I did that day. Even now as I write these words in remembrance of Sharral, my darling who will never be born I cry for what I have lost. I will not fail to become Aes Sedai, the price already was too much to pay. I would die before failing after losing what I have lost.
By Shalimar Shiawase
I am writing this journal to remind me of the difficulties I have already faced on my path, to remind me of the past to give strength to the future, to escape the horror.
I had been sent to Sheriam Sedai that morning for a prank I had pulled on Anja, she was one of the Accepted in charge of our classes. She was always mean to us, switching us and sending us to Sheriam’s study, for the smallest infractions. Its not the prank that maters though, the problem was that I was caught, and Sheriam Sedai, being Sheriam Sedai, learned of it and sent me to the scullery mistress because of it.
It was a free day for the novices, but I had to be inside cleaning dishes and scrubbing pots instead of being with Sirsei or Tasha outside in the glorious spring day. The mistress of the kitchens was a large ugly creature swathed in layers of fat, and she delighted in torturing those Accepted and Novices who were sent to her care. I think she envies us; to be surrounded by women who can use the power, and be unable to touch it must be horrible. I digress though, back to the story.
After crawling into bed, I fell asleep promptly, almost as soon as my head touched the pillow. I was having a nightmare of a sort, but the details fled my head when I awoke in a sweat. Standing in the open doorway was Sheriam Sedai, looking down on me with pity in her eyes. I admit to being scared I have never seen Sheriam pity anyone, and I wondered if this wasn’t it, the end of my time at the tower. I racked my sleep-fuddled brain for the reason, but coming up with nothing I shrugged.
“Dress daughter, the time is coming.” she said. I was utterly stupefied, what time? It didn’t take a second command to get me moving, I knew that a sister does not like to be kept waiting by even another sister, a mere novice, I dressed hurriedly in my gown of pure white.
Following Sheriam through the halls I knew so well, we quickly left the familiar passages and halls, and journeyed lower into the very bowels of the tower. She turned to face me as we approached the last door in an unfamiliar hallway.
“Child, now is the time, you are to pass through the arches tonight. You have the opportunity now to refuse, and no one will hold it against you. If you refuse now you will still be allowed two more chances to pass through the arch. On the third refusal you will be removed from the tower, and given silver to support yourself for a year. Decide now child.” She hesitated before continuing on, “even I could not go through the first time Shalimar, and there is no shame.”
“I am ready Sheriam Sedai, I am not afraid.” This was it, the first step to becoming a full sister; I had wanted this for so long, that the yes was out of my mouth before the significance of the answer dawned on me. I was sure I was ready; I knew this could not be that dangerous, or they would not let us go through with it. I was wrong, on both counts.
“Girl, even a full sister is afraid of these trials, I am not sure whether you are being brave or foolish, but in either case you are committed. After this point a refusal to go on will put you out of the Tower.” She sighed and opened the door onto a room I had never seen before but that would determine my future. Thinking on what Sheriam Sedai had said, I began to dread entering the room, but this was my wish as well. With the two conflicting emotions inside my breast I entered the room and was met by three ageless faces, the faces of women I looked up to, women I envied.
The first wore a yellow shawl, Delia Sedai, was very well respected among the Yellow Ajah, and she had taken a special interest in me, expecting that I would follow her choice of the yellow Ajah, as I was talented in healing, the sole purpose of the Yellow. I did not like to think what she would do when she learned I wanted to be a Green sister, a member of the Battle Ajah. I wanted to defend my home, and my people. It was more then a desire; it was my duty as a Sheinerian to defend the light against the shadow.
The second woman I knew as well, Anaiya Sedai, wore a shawl of Green. She knew exactly which Ajah I meant to choose, she was the Aes Sedai who taught me the differences between the seven Ajahs. She had known since that first day which I was going to choose, and she encouraged me when I asked about the Green Ajah, and what it meant.
The third woman I did not know at all, nor really wanted to meet her. She was stern faced with a bun of graying hair; she was wearing a Red shawl. The Red were the antithesis of the Green, no two Ajahs disliked each other more, or thought less of the other.
“Who comes before us?” The three women asked without looking at me, directing the question at Sheriam. She put a motherly hand on my shoulder, and gave it a quick squeeze before replying.
“One who would find acceptance.”
“Is she ready to be washed clean of what she was?” Asked Delia Sedai. Sheriam helped me remove my white Novice dress for the last time. When I stood naked before them, my dress folded neatly in the corner they continued, with my sense of unease rising.
“She stands ready to be washed clean of what she was.” Sheriam finally replied.
“Child, now you will hear what no woman hears until they stand in this chamber, listen and remember. This is a Ter’angreal,” she says pointing toward three twisted arches, “each time you step through you will be shown a version of how your life might be. Each time there will be a Silver Arch for you to return through, the way back will come but once, be steadfast.”
Delia Sedai indicated that I should enter the arch, “The way back will come but once, be steadfast.” By this time I was shaking, torn between fear and joy. Stepping into that first archway was the bravest thing I had ever done. I had never been more frightened of anything, not even of the Myrddraal that had almost killed me.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I stepped through the ring, and into a corridor. The corridor was decorated quite lavishly in a very pleasing style; a crimson carpet ran its length and all the furnishings were of beautiful gold and silver, chairs, tables, tapestries that seemed woven of the precious metal. I do have good taste don‘t I?
It was then that I realized I wasn’t alone. “Sirsei, prepare my throne.” I said dismissing her as if she was nothing. I watched her crawl on her belly toward a large gilded door, feeling nothing at the servitude I was forcing on my closest friend. I recall thinking that she was taking too long, and needed a good whipping, to remind her she only lived to serve me.
Reflecting on her lack of subservience I entered my throne room to pronounce judgment. On a raised dais stood my throne; a beautiful thing carved of hard pine, inlaid with gold and gems, enough to purchase a kingdom the size of Andor. It was a wondrous thing, a lion of white taller then a man, with a beautifully carved dove perched on its shoulder. Again I felt nothing in connection with this beautiful throne. I was surrounded by luxury, wealth beyond my wildest dreams. Slaves crouched and cowered around me, not daring to look up at me for fear of my punishment.
I recognized some of them, Jain, who took it upon him to teach me to help others, here his tongue, were cut out, and his eyes were stitched shut. The stitches he taught me used to punish his insolence. Yuri his legs shattered for objecting when I scarred Tasha’s face for being more beautiful than I. I stood looking around at my handiwork, the pleasure I took in causing their pain. I was growing bored, torture seemed so easy, and not worth the trouble. I was mistress of all I saw, I could do anything, and I was bored.
On the inside I saw myself and was frightened. I knew I was horrible, but I couldn’t stop myself from hurting them. There was something about them it was wrong. I looked at Tasha, and I realized what it was, they were not resisting if they had it would have brought severe punishment, but even the way they held themselves it showed there was nothing there, their personality was gone.
The way back will come but once, be steadfast.
I wondered where that came from, it echoed in my head before fading away. I was quite amazed when the gilded doors to my throne room changed to a small silver arch. The only reason I ventured near it was curiosity. I was almost trapped forever in that place of horror; the only thing that saved me was curiosity. Sometimes I still wake in a sweat wondering what I would have done if I was trapped in such a place.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I fell to my knees on the cool marble sweat drenching my body. Shivering I looked up at Sheriam Sedai, my eyes had to be as wide as saucers from the look she gave me. Slowly I got to my feet, trying not to think about what had happened.
“You have been washed clean of what you were,” intoned Delia Sedai. I looked at Sheriam Sedai and she smiled at me encouragingly.
“Was it real?” I asked quietly my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“No one knows child, no one knows,” she replied sedately, “will you continue?” I looked at her as if she was crazy. I could not imagine anyone voluntarily going through that light cursed arch once they had been through once. It was unbelievable that the sisters would expect me to go through again. They were all horrid women, worse then trollocs.
I seriously was considering refusing to continue, it was the easy choice. Only a fool, or a man knowingly walks into such pain, when they have the choice. But, if I refused I would never be a sister. Never. It would be unbearable, I had gone through so much already, and to give up now seemed to be giving up on myself. I said something that no sane person would ever say. “Yes”
“The way back will come but once, be steadfast,” intoned Anaiya Sedai as I entered the arch again.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I looked at myself wondering where I was this time, wondering what would the torture be. I was wearing a sheer green gown that I had worn on the day I left my fathers keep to journey to Tar Valon. I was home, in my family’s fortress. I smiled for a moment glad to be home, but only for a moment. It was easy to notice the problem; the fortress was black with flame and smoke. Twisted copses lay about, clad both in black mail, and in the more familiar heavy mail her father’s warriors wore. I stumbled through the familiar passages, trying to find someone alive.
I searched for what seemed like hours before I came to my father’s throne room. The door hung ajar, and there were sounds of fighting coming from within. I ran into the room, to see my greatest fear.
There were only ten guardsmen standing with my father. All of their armor was dented and chipped showing wear that could only have come in fierce fighting. As I entered a pair of Myrddraal as deadly as they were graceful, swung there black blades at the Uncle Kirlin, slashing through his armor and into his side, leaving him laying in a pool of his own blood. My uncle, the one who carried me on the shoulder lay there dying, and my feet were frozen. I couldn’t move my feet, I was terrified, my entire life was ending, everyone I cared about, and I could do nothing. As I watched the Myrddraal and trollocs moved like a pack of wolves, circling darting in. Each time, another part of my heart died.
I reached frantically for the power as I was taught, but nothing was there. All of my training, and I could not weave the thinnest flow. I tried to create a wall of air between my father and the Trollocs, but nothing happened. My power failed, I had failed.
The way back will come but once, be steadfast.
I finally found my feet, and rushed to his side as he lay bleeding, with their swords still in him. He tried to warn me to leave, but I couldn’t leave him like this, not like this. He struggled to his feet still bleeding, and pushed me away from him and the trollocs. He pushed me through the arch as it was appearing behind me. The last I saw of him before I fell through the light was a Myrddraal separating his smiling face from his shoulders. He was proud that he had protected me one last time before he fell.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even prepared for the violent return, I let myself fall to the cool marble, relishing the pain. I lay there, unable to rise, sobbing violently, with my head in my hands, shaking.
“Its almost over child, just once more and it will all be over.” Sheriam rubbed my back comfortingly, lifting me to a crouch and hugging me against her.
“I failed him, I failed, I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t save him.” I said in a small tired voice, still sobbing.
“Child, what each woman faces is her own, you need not tell anyone what you faced.” Sheriam said gently, steadying me.
“You are washed clean of false pride.” Anaiya Sedai intoned solemnly.
“Will you continue?” I nodded numbly, moving woodenly towards the Ter’angreal that had so unnerved me. Before entering it, I heard the Red intone formally, the familiar phrase “The way back will come but once, be steadfast.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I entered a room, furnished quite comfortably with a well-stuffed couch, a cradle, and a man holding a baby. He looked down at the baby in his arms, and then at me with an expression of pure joy on his face. Rocking her slowly in his arms, he moved towards me and turned so that I could see the child’s face. Smiling he held her out to me. I wondered what would happen this time. She had eyes as blue as the sky, like her grandfather’s, and hair as dark as mine. She was a wondrous thing; she was a little life, dependent on me, trusting in me…. Loving me.
“What’s wrong Shalimar? Sharrel is certainly not a trolloc, and she does love it when her mother holds her.” Yuri said, gently passing the girl into my arms. Sharrel, my beautiful little girl, how I miss you I will never stop loving you. As I held you in wonder that first time, and rocked you like my father rocked me, you cooed, like a beautiful little dove, and with trembling fingers reached up and grabbed hold of my nose. Laughing I twirled you around till we fell on the couch together. Yuri sat on the couch and hugged us to him smiling with love at both of us. Smiling at me, and our Daughter. Our Daughter, I never realized how beautiful those words were till I held her in my arms.
I would do anything for her, even die I realized, even if Sheriam Sedai was right and she was not real, here she was real, and here I was surrounded by love. I was beginning to dread going back, I had everything I could ever want Yuri loved me, and a beautiful baby girl.
The way back will come but once, be steadfast.
I saw the arch form, and even as it was forming I started to cry. This might not be real, and I still had responsibilities to my friends, to my people. I couldn’t decide the desire to stay with my daughter warring with my sense of responsibility. In the end I remembered something my father said to me before I left. He said, “Duty is heavier then a mountain, and death lighter than a feather. We will always do our duty even when it hurts, to do less is to let the shadow win.” Crying I rose and handed Sharrel to Yuri. He had a look of astonishment, and hurt when I backed into the archway. His last words followed me into darkness, and follow me still. “We love you.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This time I was prepared and did not fall. I looked at Sheriam, hurt and angry. Angry at myself for leaving Sharrel and Yuri. Angry at Aes Sedai, for putting me through this. I have never been angrier or felt more alone, then I did at that moment.
“I hate Aes Sedai,” I growled my voice so deep and guttural that even I didn’t recognize it as mine. Looking up to glare at the Red sister, tears flowing down my face unabated, I noticed for the first time, we were not alone in the room. The room although larger then I first thought was filled with women, all wearing shawls. At the center of the room stood the Amyrlin Seat, resplendent in her multi color shawl.
She stood looking at me for a moment, then the corner of her mouth twisted upward, “Daughter, as far as I know, every woman to ever pass through that Ter’angreal has said the same thing, going back as far as I can remember,” continuing in a more formal manner, “You have been washed clean of all that you were, pure you are, you have been found worthy of acceptance. As one of the accepted daughter, it is your right to choose what to study, take care that you choose wisely, or the choice will be made for you.” She smiles at me trying to be reassuring. “Congratulations daughter, you have earned it.”
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Never have I felt such shame, or such pain, as I did that day. Even now as I write these words in remembrance of Sharral, my darling who will never be born I cry for what I have lost. I will not fail to become Aes Sedai, the price already was too much to pay. I would die before failing after losing what I have lost.
plot device if nothing else.