Players: Jaice, Raemira (also playing pcs and npcs within the Arches), Micana, Lanta, Analee.

Background: After the harrowing experience in which her block was broken, Jaice found herself in the infirmary and there she stayed for several days. It has been weeks since then, and Jaice's preoccupation with moving -forward- in her studies has taken over her thoughts, so much so that she almost doesn't notice the Mistress of Novices one day as she passes her in the hallway...

Setting: Tower Office Wing: White Tower, Tar Valon

Jaice's soft steps take her down the stairs, and toward the Learning Centre. Her skirts swish lightly around her legs as she moves, and so intent is she on her thoughts that she almost doesn't notice Lanta until she feels the hot pricks of her stare on the back of her neck. Pausing, she blinks and looks up, curtsying. "Oh, my pardon Aes Sedai." Compared to weeks past, she definitely seems more healthy, more herself.

Lanta's gaze never wavers. "You will come with me, Novice. The Wheel waits on no woman."

Jaice merely stares back, quite oblivious as to what might have caused such treatment. Surely not the exploding ship thing again...? Pursing her lips against the bewilderment that threatens to appear on her face, she nods slightly. "Of course, Aes Sedai."

[The two make their way into the bowels of the Tower, deep in the basement.]

You enter through a hidden passage, entering a strange chamber.

[Testing Chamber: White Tower, Tar Valon
The room appears to be rather closed off from the rest of the world, yet no dust appears to settle on the cold stone walls and floors, as if it's being kept clean each day, no matter the consequence. There is a serviceable table that sits not five paces away from the door. Within the middle of the room lie three strange arching shapes, which look like doorways, in a sense, perhaps making this room that which Novices are raised as Accepted. Several utensils for the ritual appear to lay on the table, waiting to be used.]

Lanta's steps click across the floor, Jaice behind her.

Raemira stands behind the podium, which houses three chalices made of silver, a towel and a neatly wrapped piece of cloth.

Jaice slips in after Atalanta Sedai, her normally impassive expression somewhat strained by the way she keeps her lips tightly pressed together.

Lanta looks at Jaice now. The light reflecting off her glasses makes it seem as if she hardly has eyes at all..."You are about to be given the opportunity to take the test to be raised to Accepted. Before you do, you must look inside your heart to see if you are truly ready. You may refuse now, without shame. What say you?"

A hint, a shadow, of remorse appears to line Raemira's features briefly, although very carefully does she push it back away, so as not to startle the younger girl too much.

Jaice's pale blue eyes seem to drift toward the silvery arches at Lanta's question, and a stubborn set comes to her jaw. She somehow can't keep her hands from grasping the sides of her skirts, though. "I... I am ready."

Lanta says calmly, "Are you certain? Tis no shame to refuse. You may do so now,and twice more. Only on the third refusal will you be put out of the Tower. Do you still wish to continue?"

Raemira continues to watch, attempting to form her expression into a more... stoic masterpiece. Unfortunately she is unable to master keeping that sympathetic look from her eyes each time she looks between the novice to the arches. Her own experience, trials and tribulations resurfacing each time. She calmly sets her jaw making certain to firm her expression a bit more.

Jaice's chin raises a notch, her brows knitting determinedly. "I must do it. After all this time here... " She shakes her head, again eyeing the arches. "I am sure. I will not fail."

Analee sits silently, watching Jaice, her face perfectly expressionless. Her hands she folds into her lap neatly, simply waiting.

Lanta inclines her head. "Then I will tell you two things that no woman hears before she stands where you stand now. The first is this. Once you begin, you must go on to the finish. Refuse to go on at any point, and you will be put out of the Tower just as surely as if you'd refused for your third time. The second: to seek, to strive, is to know danger. You will know danger here. If you would survive, you must be steadfast. Falter, fail, and..." Atalanta's words trail off in a meaningful way.

Micana quietly moves in and takes her place at the intersection of two of the arches of the ter'angreal.

Raemira continues to watch quietly and calmly, having mastered to remove all emotion from her features, or almost all. Once again does she give Jaice that semi-sympathetic glance.

Jaice merely arches a brow at that, needing no further explanation. As if anyone would. She nods then, the long narrow braids that trail down her back swaying with the movement. "Understood." One tattooed hand reaches to brush a trickle of sweat from her neck.

Lanta says impassively, "You have one last chance to refuse... Many cannot do it, their first time through."

"If anything would make a woman refuse," Jaice comments wryly, "It is being asked so much. I am ready, Aes Sedai. As ready now as... as I will be able to be." Her casual words are obviously lighter than she feels, if her clenched hands are any sign.

Lanta nods. "Then remove your clothing."

The young Atha'an Miere doesn't pause, merely undoing her dress with deceptively calm fingers. She steps out of it with one fluid motion, revealing a tattoo on the small of her back as well as those on her hands. Thus unencumbered, she straightens and turns to face the Mistress of Novices again.

Micana lowers herself gracefully to sit on a pile of pillows before her station. Her skirts spread about her like petals of a full-blown flower surrounding the center. Only the gentle whisper of fabric settling into place may be heard. Her eyes and features are formally expressionless. She seems to concentrate on the intersection of the arches to the exclusion of everything else.

Raemira crosses her arms slightly before her, remaining silent. Her eyes roam over Jaice as she waits for the girl to comply to the order, then looks to Lanta quietly as if making certain she's ready for the rest of the ceremony.

Lanta nods slightly.

"Whom do you bring with you," Raemira starts speaking, in a deep, monotone voice, "Daughter?"

"One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance," Atalanta replies, her own monotone ringing back towards Raemira.

"Is she ready?" Raemira responds in question, her eyes seemingly searching the novice, soon to be accepted, very carefully, perhaps for signs of possible weaknesses.

Jaice stands stone-still beside Atalanta, her head held high in an attempt to gather her courage. Her duty. Her people. She cannot fail now. Her pale blue eyes watch the Amyrlin silently, her words ringing in her ears.

Analee sits perfectly still, staring at an intersection of arches, her face expressionless. Still, she listens closely, her only motion in breathing.

"She is ready to leave behind what she was, and, passing through her fears," Atalanta returns, "gain Acceptance."

Raemira appears doubtful for a brief moment, then speaks in her monotone voice, "Does she know her fears?"

Lanta says, "She has not faced her fears, but now is willing."

Raemira inclines her head, with a note of finality to it, "Then." She begins as her eyes roam over Jaice once more, "Let her face her fears."

Lanta guides Jaice towards the first arch. "The first time is for what was. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast." She squeezes Jaice's arm once...then steps back.

Jaice stares through the arch Lanta leads her to, seeing only the floor on the other side. A quick glance to the Aes Sedai standing near her only solidifies her resolve, and taking one deep breath, she takes a single step... through.

You enter Arch One.

As you step through the arches, reminders of the past are gone, present vanished, future uncertain. Everything that you've experienced since coming to the Tower, and before seems but a fantasy that soon vanishes from your mind, as myth fades to legend. You find yourself on the WindSerpent, as you were all those years ago, in the midst of that storm that brought about your ability to channel, only this time something is different, but you cannot put your finger on it. People are running about the ship, trying to batten down the hatches, lower the sails and make sure the Serpent will stay afloat. You do what you can, though everything appears to be hopeless, she'll sink no matter what, at least those are the fleeting thoughts within your mind. Wind and rain batters down at you, hard and stinging. Waves splash against the side of the Serpent, telling of impending doom. Up ahead are rocks looking before the ship, unseen by those eyes that are not paying attention at the helm of the Serpent.

Wind whips Jaice's long black braids across her face, the familiar feel of oiled breeches pressed against her legs by the fierce winds. This is the worst storm she'd ever encountered... nothing has ever taken the 'Serpent this way! Grasping the rail in one hand, she forces her way to the bowsprit where several other sailors are trying to control the sails, to reef them in. Quick, lithe steps send her over a sailsheet that whips and snakes around the deck, her breathing fast and ragged. Grasping a handful of sailcloth, she manages to get one sail down at least, and sneaks a glance back at the helm... where the Windfinder, Annet stands. How'd the storm sneak up so fast with her on board?

Winds continue to blow about, tossing the Serpent as if it were but a toy upon the water. Rain and hail pour down from above, making work hard to render, slowing down progress. Those rocks still appear to loom forward, much to the surprise of several of your fellow Atha'an Miere. They continue to work, slipping and sliding along the deck to get to one sail or another to pull it down. Lightning strikes from behind, hitting the main sail, setting it on fire.

 Steadfast
   Steadfast
     Steadfast
       Steadfast
 Once
   The way back
     comes but once.
            Once. 

 Thoughts not of Jaice's own making tiptoe through her mind.

Something... There must be something more she can do! Jaice's eyes widen as she spots the rocks looming ahead, and a terrifying thought enters her mind, one she's never had before even during that last storm -- they're going to die. Wait, this -is- that storm. What under the Light is she thinking? Jaice wavers on her feet a moment, shaking her head to clear it, then hurriedly scrambles back to the Sailmistress. "Rocks!" She hollers, at the top of her lungs. "We'll be smashed!" Not that the WindSerpent could be steered anyway, in a storm such as this one. Her feet are almost swept from beneath her with an incoming wave that washes from the weather side, and a hand grasps her before she's swept over. Kieffe. Her friend. Seeing her face, need fills her, and without knowing, just as she did to start this storm, she grasps hold of the Power.

That hand continues to pull you up, settling you in place. More waves appear to tumble and turn about the Serpent, and many of the efficient crew are stumbling over their own feet to get matters straightened out. One or two turn toward the main mast with buckets of water and attempt to put out the flames of the fire, somehow missing being put out by the salty seawater of the waves. The Sailmistress is trying to do all that she can with steering, although the task appears to be more than useless. A little progress is made, though not much at all. A large crash booms against the side of the boat. Was that a wave? With a lurching it turns to it's side, as if it were abroad something..... Rocks? A sandbar? Not likely the sandbar, but the rocks..... if the hull is damaged.....

 Amid the pounding rain a silvery arch flickers in the periphery of vision, 
light glinting on the rising arc. It stands near the rail, unnoticed by 
those working so intently. 

         Be steadfast
         the way back comes but once.

A shudder runs through the deck and up Jaice's spine as the hull lurches, and unconsciously a weave begins to form roughly before her, stirred by her thoughts of holes in the hull. But wait -- what was that? The arc distracts her, glinting so alluringly, seeming untouched by the falling of the hail and rain, unmoved by the dangerous tilting of the deck. She stands, stone still, staring at it, ignorant of the crewmates running about her, ignorant of Annet's futile efforts at controlling this storm that she so unwittingly -- and unknowingly -- caused. There. Escape. No! "An Atha'an Miere does not leave her crew," she mutters, blinking her eyes against the rain that runs down her face. "She does not leave her crew!" Stirred again by unintelligible words Kieffe is screaming in her ear, she nods blindly and struggles again at the problem at hand. Her voice raises against the storm, tearing her throat raw. "We have to check the hull! We're lost if there's holes!" Again, that weave, unconscious. A patch.

Reports come from below. The hull was definitely damaged, but something is somehow keeping water from entering inside. Rocks still protrude within the ship, leaving it slightly stranded. There still is a problem with the water crashing against the rocks and precariously moving the ship back and forth in the process. It's as if the waves wish to swallow the ship whole for some unforeseen crime committed against the sea. Rain and hail still pelts along the deck, though the crew members have a bit more footing to go on while they are 'landsacked'. A few go below to see if they can attempt to assess the full likely hood of the damage, unaware that Jaice is the one causing the water from filling it up and overtaking the cargo, if not their own lives. Lightning strikes again at the ship, this time hitting the shipsprit, catching it on fire as it did the main sail before.

Jaice herself isn't aware she's what's keeping the boat afloat, just as she wasn't aware that day long ago... what? Confusion ripples through her mind for the most fleeting of moments. She already -saved- the ship. But that's not possible, she's here, amongst her crewmates, friends she's known her whole life. Darkly tanned bare backs scurry about the ship's decks, difficult to make out in the blinding rain that falls from above; rain, it's not hard to notice, that somehow fails to put out the fire aboard the ship. Jaice steers herself in the direction of the fire, not quite knowing what she'll do when she gets there.

 The silver arch flashes in a startling reflection of the lightning. 
It seems to hum in a low tone that is more felt than heard. 
Crewmen rush by unseeing of the silver beside them. 

         The way back comes but once
         Be Steadfast.

Without any warning one of the masts falls onto the ship, already showing signs that the bloody thing is not holding up to the storm as most would like. Several are trapped beneath the weight of the posts, many of them your friends, others people you've lived with most of your life, crew and family. Those that are free, and nearby, struggle to get the others out from underneath, some of them with crushed bones, others unscathed. The fire continues to roar at the front of the boat, growing larger, despite the attempts of those trying to put it out.

"No!" Jaice's path to the most damaged areas of the ship is stopped by the fall of the mast; the crack of splintering wood, the thud of people being thrown to the deck all seem painfully over-loud and over-exaggerated to her ears. The Arch flickers ever so brightly behind her, defying her efforts to ignore its presence and save her people. Already something feels like it's draining on her, like she's spent more strength than she remembers spending by merely yanking down sails and avoiding flaming masts.

It wasn't like this!

Where'd that thought come from?

A sickening lurch, and the huge Atha'an Miere Raker, the fastest of its fleet, makes a horrible, eerily loud screech as the rocks twist in its belly. Gradually the ship is forced over by the waves, reluctantly spilling its crew into the water, those that haven't anchored themselves somewhere. Lost... lost! Jaice's desperate eyes seek out her closest friends, Kieffe, Bohan... and sightless eyes stare back at her from beneath the flaming mast. Choking back a strangled sob, she manages to force her way along the overturned hull, and throws herself through the arch.

Jaice tumbles out of the first arch, her hair wet and slicked to her bare back. Tears stream down her face, and she seems surprised to find solid floor under her feet. "But... Light! I left them! I left them!"

As soon as Jaice comes through the arch, she is doused with water. The Amyrlin intones, "You are washed clean" A slight pause as emerald eyes gaze over the novice, "of what sin you may have done, and of those done against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us washed clean and pure, in heart and soul."

Jaice's arms shake uncontrollably, and she clasps them about herself as she's doused with water, Raemira's words not much of a comfort with that last image of her crewmate's stares still seared into her mind. "I left them," she moans silently to herself, "Light, oh Light, I left them and they died..." Two more. That was only one. Two more. Strength, Jaice.

Lanta steps forward to guide the girl to the second arch. She places her hands on the novice's shoulders, completely lacking in any sort of compassion, and steers her firmly toward the second arch. "The second time is for what is. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast."

Jaice draws a shuddering breath, looking at the arch before her with something akin to dread. Whatever happens now, it can't be worse. It can't. Closing her eyes, she steps through.

You enter Arch Two.

Everything that happened within the first arch is but a distant memory, faded to the deepest recesses of your mind. The Tower, as you know it, no longer exists, however it does..... You find yourself standing within the courtyard of the Tower, dressed in slacks and a button down shirt. This does not seem to fit, a thought that flits through your mind.... yet, it does.... You take a peek at your hands, as if to check something, and find nothing.... then another thought occurs to you. The test... I failed the test.... A deep disappointment seems to devour you. You take one last look at the Tower then head toward the docks, where you know a ship is waiting for you, a ship of your former peers, but do you want to go? Uncertain. You pass through the streets, looking up and down the various rows, heading toward the docks, looking over the various people, stalls, vendors and whatnot, a feeling of kinship passing over you. Shorebound they are, different from you they are, yet.... somehow... they feel like home, family. You get to the docks, and before you looms the ship, and on the plank is the Sail Mistress. She raises a hand in greeting, "Hail, sister to the sea." She speaks outloud you approach close enough.

Jaice has a hard time hiding the shame from her expression as she approaches the ship at the docks, looking like an errant child forced to tell her parents she's done wrong. The worst has happened; all this time ashore, all this time away from her people, and it's been for nothing. She's failed them. How can she go back now? A sick feeling settles in the pit of her stomach. It is only with a great effort that she manages to look up at the woman who greets her. "Hail, Sailmistress. May wind fill your sails, and may bountiful trade fill your holds." A traditional greeting, for a people she no longer really feels as her own. Not since the day she broke her block, anyway. Ships never really were the same to her since the nightmares.

The sailmistress appears to give Jaice a rather odd look, seemingly detecting something wrong from the get go, "Is everything all right child?" She asks, genuine worry within her voice. It could be that she does not yet know this stranger for one of the shore bound Tower folk, then again she could. Who knows what might be going through her mind? Carefully does she make her way down the planks, though a hand moves out to stay her trip downward. One easily recognized as the windfinder looks down, with something of contempt within her eyes, at Jaice. The Sailmistress frowns, turning her eyes back to the girl she was about to go speak with, then shakes her head, "That I cannot believe." She speaks firmly, as if something the windfinder spoke was untrue.

 The way back
 The way back
         Once
         Once
         Once
   The way back comes but once.
           Steadfast
         Steadfast
     Steadfast
   Be Steadfast
 Words skitter in memory, faint whispers in Jaice's mind.

Jaice frowns, shaking her head as though to clear it. She expected her world to come crashing down around her should she have failed -- she -did- fail, she should get used to that thought! -- but she did not expect madness too. Ah, there. No more stray thoughts. Her eyes glimpse the oh-so-familiar tattoos on her hands, lines of clan and family, and these she stuffs in her pockets before returning her attention to the Sailmistress. "Can't believe what?"

The SailMistress raises a brow faintly at the girl before her, "What Liseline was saying just now, child. That you are not an Atha'an Miere." A long pause ensues, "There are all of the marks resembling your heritage and you've that look about you." She gives off a faint, warm, motherly smile.

Liseline just appears to be smirking, or sneering, "I tell you Samilia, she is not one of us. Look at out she walks and daydreams as she does so. One of our kind would not do that and...." She pauses, eyes narrowing, "She can channel. She's one of the Tower bred." She lowers her voice at the last, as if not to bring any unwanted attention to herself.

Jaice's own pale blue gaze narrows on Liseline, her fists planted stubbornly on her hips. Now that her lineage is questioned, there's no thought as to what her options are; she sets about defending herself. "I -am- Atha'an Miere. I was crew aboard the Raker WindSerpent. It is true I can channel... Mersine, my WindMistress, sent me to do my duty here."

Liseline gives off a smug expression, "See Samilia. She speaks it herself. She is Tower bred. Shorebound now. She is no longer one of us." Several of the crew members that were curiously studying Jaice for a few moments suddenly turn around, putting their backs to her. Tower spies, it could be, sent to trick them into taking one of them aboard.

Samilia seems to stop, carefully taking in Jaice for a few moments, "If I did not know that name myself, I might think she were trying to get to you herself, Liseline, but I think the girl is telling the truth." She crosses her arms before her, voice ever so gentle, "Tell me.... what is your name?"

At that particular moment, Maeve, your very dear friend, comes down upon the docks, "There you are." Quietly does she speak, her eyes peering out defiantly. "I've been looking all over for you as soon as I heard word." Disappointment flows through her voice, "Weren't you even going to at least tell me you were leaving?" Accusation is even present within her voice, so few friends does she have within the Tower, so many things piling up on you at once....

 With a subtle 'hummmm' rises a shimmering silvery structure which 
certainly is foreign to this place yet seems somehow to 'belong' 
Silver glints along the curving surface which beckons by its very presence. 

         The way back comes but once. 
         Be steadfast.

Jaice's jaw drops at the sight of so many Atha'an Miere turning their backs to her, and she shuts it with an audible click, using every ounce of willpower to erase the hurt from her expression. Mustn't let Liseline see. "I am Jaice din Coris Swift Sea, Sailmistress," she says. "I have--" Her words are cut off as Maeve approaches, and she spins to face the angry Saldean. "Maeve! I'm -- I'm sorry. I was going to tell you..." Her voice becomes torn, her gaze dropping, looking anywhere but at her friend. "I couldn't face you... after that."

"That's still no reason to just run off Jaice..." A slight pause to let the steam simmer a bit, or to make the other girl feel more uncomfortable, "I thought we were friends...." Were? Past tense? Reddish hair flutters within the wind, marring the vision of Maeve's features faintly.

"A ploy, Samilia." Liseline speaks, "See how she tries to get her shorebound friend closer to our ships? She is another. No doubt Aes Sedai herself from the ring she wears upon her finger." An observation she makes about Jaice's friend. "They are trying to take our potential windfinders from us, so that we cannot travel the seas safely." So much contempt within one person, with no reason know as to why.

Samilia carefully nods to Liseline's words, never having been one to just idly listen to ramble, but knowing enough that she should at least appease her crew's windfinder with some sort of acknowledgement or not have winds for a month. "Very well Liseline. I hear your words." Liseline nods very slightly to that one triumph, her lips now pressed together thinly. Samilia continues to watch, more departed this time than anything else, perhaps trying to assess the situation herself. "And of what ship did you come from?" She inquires, as if trying to authenticate the story.

 The humming strengthens and wanes as the silver of a shimmering 
arch is seen to the side, fading and regaining solidity in time to the 
humming. 
  
         The way back
         Comes but once.
         Be Steadfast.

Jaice spins to pin Liseline with an angry stare. "How could I not spend almost four years in the Tower and not make some friends among shorebound! And how could any Sea Folk turn against her people! I am not what you say!" It takes her another moment to contain herself, closing her eyes against the flurry of emotions that engulfs her. The mere fact that she lost her temper -- something she's never been known to do -- shows just how shattered she is right now. Her voice starts again, in low, even, monotones. "The WindSerpent, Sailmistress. He is -- or was -- one of the faster Rakers. I do not believe he is in service any longer. Tiere was his Sailmistress."

Light, let this not be happening to me.

Another slow, considering breath, and Jaice gathers herself to face Maeve again, her blue eyes showing a hint of sadness, of regret. "Maeve, you know I count no other friendship above yours. You have to know it." Please? Light, let her know it! "They cast me out as soon as I failed. I couldn't stay there any longer, after that. Please understand."

Jaice remains oblivious to the arch, spying it and then shaking it off. It calls to her, but how can she heed it when everyone here has abandoned her? She looks at Maeve with pleading eyes, her back to the Raker.

Maeve stands there watching Jaice dealing with everything at once, her own eyes narrowed in a calculating glance. "Then I am coming with you." She speaks rather decisively, moving closer to the Raker which Jaice is closest to. "And you won't stop me." She speaks to Liseline, her manner suggesting she'll use any means possible to continue onwards.

Liseline merely snorts, "Are you going to let a shorebound tell you who will board your ship now Samilia?" Her eyes seem to challenge Maeve back, as if letting this... channeler know that the decision is not hers to make.

Samilia eyes Maeve, "No one boards my ship girl, without my permission, and that includes your friend as well. I was not certain before...." She speaks out, about to say a few dreaded words, "But I am now. Neither of you are welcome here. Leave before we make you leave."

Astonished is simply too mild a word to describe Jaice's expression. She simply -stares- at Maeve, unblinking. "Come -with- me? You would leave the Tower?" As those words touch her ears though, the words of rejection, her breath catches in her throat. One step, then another, takes her closer to the Sea Folk vessel. "Sailmistress, surely you are not serious. Maeve is shorebound, and does not know Atha'an Miere ways of passage. Surely... you are not serious?" She swallows, making a last-ditch effort to convince Samilia. "You would not deny the ocean to one of your own?"

 The humming of the arch seems demanding of attention as it fades 
and regains strength, though not so much as before. Each returning 
of the glimmer and humm is fainter than before. 
         Once
         Once
         The way back
         comes but 
             once  once    o n c e...
   Be Steadfast.

"To one of our own, we will not. To a shorebound, and one that can channel, indeed." Samilia speaks her decision final, and her words settling in.

Jaice doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't even breathe, so stunned is she by the cruel words. All colour drains from her face, her shoulders slumped, her hands limp at her sides. It's as though Samilia had just snapped her fingers and drained the life from the girl, and any sign of the bright spark that so often danced in her eyes fades away. The silvery Arch glints and glimmers at the periphery of her vision, seeming important, somehow. But then, the idea that anything seems important in this world seems absurd to Jaice. She simply watches the Atha'an Miere, their backs turned to her, as though watching her life flitter though her fingers.

Nothing matters.

Maeve's words sound at her ear, but she can no longer hear them.

Nothing matters.

The Arch.

The Arch matters. Be steadfast. Steadf...

Lifting dull eyes, Jaice begins a slow, dragging walk toward the silvery glint. She doesn't look back as she steps through it; she doesn't even look where she's going.

You leave the Arch Two.

Jaice steps back into the room from the second arch, seeming remarkably calm; until it becomes apparent to those present that it isn't calm that surrounds this girl, it's despair. Dull eyes lift to regard the walls of the room in faint surprise, as though she'd forgotten they'd ever existed.

The second chalice of ward is dumped on Jaice as she exits the second arch, "You are washed clean of false pride." Intones the Amyrlin, her voice a steady beat, never losing it's richness, "You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul."

Lanta moves to stand in front of the third arch, waiting without any show of impatience. After a moment she takes hold of the novice's arm when the girl nears her, and directs her to the third arch. "The third time is for what will be. The way out will come but once. Be steadfast."

Jaice allows herself to be led to the third arch, but pauses upon entering it. Life shows again in those pale blue eyes, but this time it's fear. "I... I didn't think it could get worse, but it did," she murmurs.

Raemira silently watches Jaice as she moves through. One of the other Aes Sedai milling about the room hushes the girl, the rest looking on her with concern.

The second arch. If she doesn't do this... Jaice steels herself, completely ignorant of the trails of tears that streak their way down her cheeks, and steps... through.

You enter Arch Three.

The past and present seem to fade from memory, your future looming before you. A thought, a shred of what remains of your former life seems to try to push itself forward, only to be pushed back in a fleeting moment. You find yourself dressed in your favourite outfit, one of your fingers donning the Great Serpent. This could only mean one thing, you are Aes Sedai now. You take a few moments to look about. Alone you are, within a compound of sorts. Others mill about you, here and there, though they seem nervous, afraid. Coerel Gaidin, the Amyrlin's Gaidin, comes over to you, a concerned look on his features, "Raemira told me to give you this." A piece of parchment holds these words: Be wary. Danger lurks nearby, even those that are most trusted might no longer be so. The Black Ajah is aiding the False Dragon.... False Dragon? You look up and around you as that thought occurs to you, then your mission comes to mind. You were sent with several others to find out who this.... 'Dragon' was, and his purpose for showing himself, other than the usual world domination.

Jaice takes a moment to orient herself, having trouble with errant thoughts. Aes Sedai? The dress seems strange on her somehow, just -wrong- for the most fleeting of moments, but then the thought is gone. Things are fine. Aes Sedai is as it should be. But this.... she glances around, pale eyes taking in the manner of those about her. That is not how it should be at all. Surely this 'Dragon' matter must be solved quickly. She nods at Coerel after reading the message, giving him a pale smile. "Thank you, Gaidin. You can be sure to tell her... that I will proceed with utmost caution." Fancy Jaice saying something like -that-.

Coerel nods his head in compliance, tired wrinkles besetting themselves about what appears once to be youthful features. Time is taking it's toll on the Amyrlin's Gaidin. "I will let Raemira know, Jaice Sedai." Oh so formal he is, although he always was. He moves back into the encampment, perhaps to write a letter to the Tower stating those very words spoken.

From a few paces away, Kiely Sedai stands, talking quietly with Miselle. They appear to have their heads together, yet... something seems wrong. This flickers through your mind.... These two have been known to be mortal enemies within the Tower halls, bitter rivals even through the time they've received their shawls, yet... when they believe no one is looking... they are like the closest of friends.

 Back
     Back
         Back
 The way back
   Comes but
     once
     once
     once.
   Be Steadfast.
 Fragments of memories not Jaice's own tickle and play in the back of her 
mind.

Kiely leans in close to Miselle, no one ever comes to this side of the camp, ".... .... they suspect .... is ..... on." She peers up for a moment, just missing Jaice as she continues to murmur to Miselle, "The .... Dragon .... waiting .... .... to .... him .... .... camp .... ..... We cannot .... him .... become .... powerful." She pauses once more, her eyes narrowing tightly and her fists clenching at her sides, "I do not care if he thinks...." She speaks outloud, then drops her voice once more, "If .... .... he .... be .... .... Dragon."

Miselle seems to give off one of those famous female sniffs, "I doubt he's much more than a lap dog." Her eyes glint slightly within the sunlight. "Pilana has no uses for someone..." She cuts off her words quietly, pretending to snub Kiely as another walks by. After making certain they are 'alone' she continues, "Pilana has no uses for someone who believes he will be more powerful than herself."

Jaice arches a brow. This could prove interesting. The two haven't noticed her yet... surely they will if she moves about. So she stands unmoving, barely breathing as she listens in.

Kiely nods wisely, smoothing over her skirts, "Do you suppose we can get away to talk with him?" She watches Miselle quietly, as if deferring things to her. Miselle seems to consider the words, "He will not like it, but I think it is time for him to know who is directing his movements." She nods to herself, a slight smile coming to the Green sister's lips, "High time he remembers who he.... is working for. He seems to think he is in all this for himself." She snorts slightly, "He will soon find out he has someone else's interests working for him."

 Slowly something starts to flicker a few paces away. 
Silver glints in and out of vision as if there and yet not there 
before it solidifies into a silver arch. An almost imperceptible 
hum fills the mind and words echo in memory. 

 The way back
     Comes but once.
         Be steadfast.

Jaice ignores the arch, pushing errant memories out of her brain. There's more important things at stake here.

Kiely nods, then rises from her seated spot. Carefully she looks about before making her way first toward the remote outskirts of the encampment. Miselle does the same thing, looking over her shoulder once or twice more before seeming secure in her movements, scowling expression on her features as she watches Kiely, as if she is quite certain the girl does not belong on this mission. Little do others know their differences bring them closer together.... After what seems to be ages in walking, with, light be blessed, enough cover for you to walk unnoticed, you reach another encampment. This one is primarily of men, it seems.

"It's about bloody time you came here." A man exclaims, very demanding. "I've been waiting most of the flaming day for you. Where have you been?" You might get the impression he would call her some derogatory name if he could get away with it.

Miselle just tsks, shaking her head from side to side, "Now now..." She speaks softly, "Is it not enough we've brought you a pet?" She flips a hand toward the indicated spot, showing just -who- that pet is. "Isn't she enough to keep you quiet for just a few days more? With a few more Myrdraal....." She smiles thinly, "And friends, we can turn her with us." That pet is.... none other than Maeve.

Jaice has found herself a nice shrub to hide behind, within perfect view of the encampment but sufficiently far away that no one is able to hear her gasp at the sight of her old friend. Beyond that though, she keeps silent; now is not the time to act, Jaice. Find out more. Wait until they're alone. Trouble is, Jaice has never been keen on patience. She watches the group with narrow slits for eyes, an intent frown on her face.

The man seems to settle slightly as his eyes fall on Maeve. It's almost as if he is contemplating, "That one?" He snorts derisively, after that moment of silence, "She's more trouble than she's bloody worth, always yapping her mouth off as if..." He gives a slight shrug, his eyes turning to Miselle meaningfully, "You can have her." He grins slightly, "I don't have any need for her." A slight pause, "Of course, I can always give her to someone else." There is a lewd way about his comment, as if she were a possession to be shared with anyone he wished.

This time it is Kiely's turn to sniff, "Oh do grow u-" Her words catch at his last comment, her face paling slightly, "You wouldn't dare." Challenge meets challenge as he stares Kiely down. She seems to gulp and take a step back.

Miselle, however, is not affected. She calmly smoothes over her skirts, "The Great Lord would not be happy if one of his new allies was to be soiled." She tries to carefully word her remark so as not to offend the man, "Anyway, Daniel, we are not here about her, but you and your purpose. When we first approached you..." Maeve is forgotten for the moment, or is she? The one called Daniel.... his name coming to you, moves his eyes toward her very carefully as if formulating his own plans for the woman, none all too pleasant from the looks upon his features.

From behind the bushes at the edge of the camp, Jaice studies Maeve intently, trying to determine if she's hurt and how she's bound. She opens herself up to the Source, but doesn't touch it just yet; merely a preparation.

Miselle looks up at something and glances about the bushes. Kiely gives her a questioning look, but settles after a slight shrug of the shoulders. In the background, a young man exits one of the tents. Jaice may recognize him as one of those very lovely young gentlemen she's been seen talking to very frequently lately over the past year or so, one she's trusted enough to talk to about many things.... one a girl in love might pour her heart out to. He goes over to Maeve, smirking at her a moment, and checks her bonds, moving her about in a rough manner, "Now you behave girl. I don't want to be getting any more bites from you like last time." So that's where he got his injury, those fleeting thoughts come back to you. He had mentioned a dog had bit him. What a thing for him to call Maeve, indeed!

Miselle casts a cursory glance in the young man's direction before turning her eyes back to Daniel, "We recruited you because your tasks seemed very promising." She continues, or attempts to with all of the distractions, "Now... if you do not stick to those promising tasks, the Great Lord will not be very pleased." Her eyes seem to flare slightly, showing she will not be pleased as well, not that Daniel seems to care either way, "Understood?"

"Yeah, sure." Daniel shrugs his shoulders, "I'll do what I said I'd do. First I want to have my fun. It's not every day a man gets asked to bring down the Tower, ya know."

 The silver arch fades to become near transparent as the hum 
that accompanies it diminishes. Small surges return the arch 
to near substantiality as the weakening hum returns in a lesser level. 

     once
     The way baaaacccckkkk
     comes but oncccceeee
     be steadfast.

At first glance Maeve seems fine, if a little worse for wear. Her arms have quite a few bruises from what you can see of them though. As if she's been pushed into walking or moving or being picked up roughly.

First shock, and then anger flares in Jaice's eyes as she stares at Jaret, for a few moments just simply not believing she sees him there. He said he was a Taraboner Noble! He told her about his family! His goals! Light blind him, she had actually -fallen- for the bloody Light-blasted man and... and... now he does -this-?

She had been an idiot of the highest calibre.

The arch attracts Jaice's attention for a moment, but anger boils hot along her veins, fuelling her to action. She barely even notices that down below in the camp, Mr. Perfect has now started talking about -her-. Drawing on minuscule amounts of the Power, hopefully not enough to be detected, she begins weaving a few shields in preparation; so that when she needs them, she can simply insert more power into the flows and have them ready. Peering through the bushes again, she updates herself on the situation. If she can make them look elsewhere... _Blast that man, I'll skin him for a coat!_

Jaret seems to grin slightly after something else he says, then glances to Miselle and Kiely, "Hey, do you think you can get that fool of an Aes Sedai. Jaice, for me?" He pauses, glancing to Daniel for conformation in going on, "Might be nice to have a pet of my own." He cocks a lopsided grin on his features, showing how not perfect Mr. Perfect really is. "Maybe I can get her to talk about something other than that flamin' tower of hers." He casts a glance at the other two, "Or at least we can get her to 'help' us out."

Miselle sniffs, "Not hardly, she's a whelp, and hardly fit for the shawl that sits on her shoulders"

Jaret quirks a brow, "Aw, come on now. So what if she is mouthy and opinionated. I can deal with that once she learns her... place." That grin appears on his features once more. It's almost as if he and Daniel were related in some way... perhaps they are.... in more ways than one. "Come on Dani, don't do anything for them until I get 'er."

Daniel seems to be sitting there, as if he is actually considering the prospect, "My baby brother wants his own pet." He crosses his arms, watching the others.

Jaice's eyes widen at /this/ new bit of news. And the flaming fregging bleeding False Dragon's brother, too! Suddenly she feels the taste of blood in her mouth and realizes she'd been biting her lip hard enough to break through the skin, and hadn't even noticed.

_Remind me again why I decided not to Bond yet._
_Oh... right. I was thinking of bonding -him-._
_Let's just not think about that._

Peering through the bushes, Jaice studies the two Aes Sedai in the camp. Good. They aren't holding the Source... so maybe, just maybe, this'll work. Very carefully, she sends a pre-woven illusion toward the far end of the camp nearest the forest, that of a rustling of bushes and the light sound of a horse nickering where there ought not to be any horses.

"This is ridiculous." Kiely bursts out. "You cannot expect us to hand over every light drenched Aes Sedai that flirts in your flamin' direction." Her eyes narrow, "I could care less if she is a mere babe herself." It seems these two, Miselle and Kiely, had never approved of Jaice's raising. "Miselle, tell them." She demands.

"If Jaice is what he wants, I suppose we can get her for him." Miselle speaks contemplatively, "I think she suspects something anyway. Light knows she has the Amyrlin's ear." A slight plan seems to be formulating in her mind, "With the right training.... She might work out even better than Maeve did." Oh the plans she has for Jaice! Or so seems the look on her features.

Jaret scrunches his nose, "Now look you here." He wags his finger at Miselle, despite the fact she can channel, "She's mine. Go find yourself another Aes Sedai that knows the Amyrlin we-" He stops his words and glances to the bushes, "What do you suppose that could be?" The others stop speaking with him. Daniel murmurs, "Stay here Jaret."

Jaret looks as if he's about to complain before the Aes Sedai with Daniel shoot him a 'look'. He nods dumbly, but keeps his back to Jaice, still standing next to Maeve as the others go to check things out.

 Once
     once
 once
     once
 steadfast
     steadfast
         steadfast
 back, the way back.

 The Arch shimmers and fades, the hum growing softer and softer.

Maeve just seems to stare at you dumbly for a few moments, uncertainty washing over her features. It's almost as if she does not understand the words. She shies away from Jaice as if she were just bitten, not a way for her to react. It seems whatever was done to her, someone had been messing with her mind, no longer the carefree person she used to be. It's almost as if she no longer knows Jaice.

The young Aes Sedai -- once Atha'an Miere -- stares at Maeve as though mentally willing her to miraculously become herself again and run for her life. But no, Maeve still acts like a timid rabbit, far beyond any helping Jaice could give right now. Shouts are heard about the camp and people are getting dangerously close... not to mention Daniel and the two Black Ajah, who are running quickly toward them.

In the background behind Jaice, the Arch flickers, goes out, reappears again. Echos of fragments of words reverberate through her mind, unintelligible. The arch fades into the background once more, disappearing altogether, and finally weakly shimmers into existence one last time.

One quick glance gives Jaice a survey of the situation; Maeve hasn't a chance without her here. And probably even with. But the Arch... the Arch. Reluctantly, regretfully, Jaice leans forward, giving her timid, ghost-like friend of fifteen years a light kiss on the crown of her head. "I'm sorry Maeve," she whispers hoarsely. "Oh Light, I'm so sorry!" Then just before the whole camp seems to converge on them, she dives through the fading arch.

You leave Arch Three.

Jaice comes stumbling out of the last arch, tears streaking her face. Her voice is torn and ragged, and she barely seems aware of her surroundings, whatever it is she's moaning about seeming unintelligible for now.

As soon as you come out of the last arch, the Amyrlin is ready and waiting with a the last silver chalice of water. "You are washed clean of Jaice din Coris Swift Sea from the Atha'an Miere." A long pause as Raemira lets this information settle in. "You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world." A intake of breath before continuing, "You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul." The Amyrlin studies Jaice for several moments before speaking the last bit, carefully, "You are Jaice din Coris Swift Sea, Accepted of the White Tower. You are sealed to us now, Daughter." Notice she said Daughter, not child, nor novice. There is a hint of finality to Raemira's words, as if you really are sealed to the Tower now. She leans forward and kisses you on each cheek gently.

One of the Aes Sedai stands ready with a towel to wrap around you as others come forward to greet you in much the same manner as the Amyrlin, a light kiss on each side of the cheek, before they all file out. Then the one left behind to aid carefully hands you a white dress with a colored band along the hem.

Jaice seems dull to all these words, merely shaking her head in confusion. "I-- I left her. He-- him! He betrayed me!" Desperate eyes look up at Raemira, unmindful of the dress placed in her limp hands. "Was it real?"

Raemira speaks quietly as the others press forward with their greeting, "It is custom at the Tower that you do not speak about what happened in the arches. I trust you will keep with that custom." It is not really a request, but more of an order. "You will have the next two days free of chores and classes, to recuperate, then the next two weeks will you meet with the hardest training you've had within your life. If you thought your Novice years will bad, you will find them a vacation to those of your Accepted years." She pauses then continues, "You may not teach until you've had your spirit class, and been observed by an Aes Sedai for the first time." She then pauses once more, watching quietly as she speaks the words upon the new Accepted, perhaps too much for her to absorb at the moment. Raemira pulls something out of a tiny pouch at her waist. Her eyes narrow slightly, as if considering something, though she murmurs, "Hold out your left hand please." She waits for the simple action.

Jaice swallows as she's told all this new information; Light knows if she actually heard it or not. But at least, she heard that final command, and she holds out her hand silently.

A golden ring, carved with the image of the Great Serpent is produced and placed upon Jaice's ring finger on her left hand, "On this finger, and this hand alone may you wear this ring. Once you are raised to the shawl, may you wear it where you wish, but not until them" Raemira's voice holds a warning note, what is done to those that claim to be Aes Sedai, quite evident to those through the Tower. Her eyes even harden slightly. "After you are settled you are to report to Atalanta Sedai's office to talk over your new classes."

Jaice nods silently, her eyes hooded again. "Yes, Mother." Her words sound dull and tired, her mind obviously on what she experienced. She's probably using all her stubborn strength to keep herself from breaking down right here.

Raemira inclines her head slightly, "You are dismissed child." Back down from Daughter to child once more.

Thank you, Mother." Jaice shuffles toward the door, and slips outside.