Eleonora Valentin stumbled through the door into a cold, fog-shrouded valley spotted with huts. The sounds of hammering echoed around the bleak slopes, punctuated by screams. Now and then, an misshapen figure would emerge from a hut to drag in one of the many weeping prisoners lining the valley. The forbidding black mountain that dominated the skyline was more than enough to name these dread slopes. Thakan'dar. Eleonora wondered briefly what she was doing here, but the sight of a glowing silver six-pointed star on the ground some distance away reminded her. She had to go there and create a particular weave with the One Power. The hundredth. The last one, and then all this would finally be over. Not that she could recall what 'all this' actually was.
Taking a step forward, she winced as pain shot up her leg, causing her to glance down in surprise. She was naked again, but that didn't bother her any more than it had for the first weave. She was no prudish Almoren to be scandalised by the merest flash of bare skin. What bothered here were the numerous cuts and bruises covering her body. Far more than she remembered receiving. A few cuts were still bleeding, but not enough to be worried about. Focusing her mind to ignore the pain, Eleonora walked steadily up the slope to the star, not looking at the prisoners she passed. There was nothing she could do for them before she reached her destination.
Halfway to the star, a Myrddraal emerged bearing a black sword from one of the huts as she approached, a sick smile on it's lips as it seemed to leer at her without eyes. Eleonora shivered despite her concentration at the memory the Lurk evoked. It was so clear it might have happened just moments ago, but she knew it had been the twenty-fifth weave when she had been a Myrddraal's plaything. She remembered three days of torments, although she deduced from the subsequent seventy-four weaves that she had to have been strung up for just a few moments. Just long enough to form the required weave, then sever her bonds with Fire before destroying her tormentor with … something. Although she couldn't remember learning all the weaves she had used since stepping onto that first star, she was certain nobody had taught her that bar of white-hot light that had made the Lurk fade into a cloud of glowing motes. Was it balefire? She vaguely remembered reading that balefire erased its victim's actions in the past, and the Myrddraal had casually crushed her ankles just before she'd freed herself. They certainly weren't broken now, or she wouldn't be able to walk.
"The victory of the Light is all." The whispered phrase had offered scant solace since the fall of her nation's capital, but the Myrddraal before her froze and stepped hastily back into the shadows, bringing a smile to Eleonora's lips. Even after twenty years, Aridhol's battle cry frightened the Shadowspawn. Striding forwards as much as her lacerated feet would allow her, Eleonora closed the distance between her and the glowing star.
About fifty paces from her goal, one of the prisoners called her name. Glancing across, Eleonora recognised her younger brother. With a start, she realised that every prisoner she passed was a member of her family. Sisters, brothers, cousins. Some of them had been killed in the wars, she knew, but they were still here on these slopes. Suddenly her nudity became uncomfortable in a way it had never been before. The boy whose shout had attracted her attention cried out to her as he was pulled into one a hut by one of the shadow-forgers. From her studies, Eleonora knew what was going to happen to him. She wanted to help, but couldn't channel until she reached the star, and by the time she reached it, Alladan would be dead unless she ran. But she couldn't run, even if her wounded feet would let her.
As she came to this realisation, more of her family called out to her for help. Eleonora tried to put their cries out of her mind. There were more important things at stake than a few people, even if they were family. Five paces from the star, she saw a young girl dragged into a hut. Somebody she remembered not from her past life, but from a vision. A future she had seen while testing for Accepted. A daughter she wouldn't have, but would never forget. She lengthened her strides slightly to step onto the star just as the door closed. Beginning the required weave, she immediately split her flows and wove Air and Fire to break open the hut Regan had been taken into. A scream from within told her she was too late. Or was she? As the hundredth weave was completed, sending a shower of shining flecks about her, she tried to transform the flows she held into balefire, as much as she remembered the weave. What struck the forger as it pulled the jet black sword from Regan's lifeless body was certainly not the hoped for bar of light, but it sufficed to avenge the poor girl. With regret, she looked around, drawing Power to strike all the other huts with lightning. Before she could begin weaving, however, she saw the star-shaped cave entrance in the mountainside. She stood frozen for some moments, torn between revenge and duty. Duty won out. She released saidar and walked steadily into the darkness of Shayol Ghul…
…and blinked furiously as dazzling lights blinded her. Memories flooded back. Every weave, every injury, although all of it still overshadowed by the three days she hadn't actually experienced. As her vision slowly cleared, she heard the Mistress of Novices.
"It is done," she said, clapping her hands. "Let no one ever speak of what has passed here. It is for us to share in silence with she who experienced it. It is done." Again she clapped her hands loudly. "Eleonora Valentin, you will spend tonight in prayer and contemplation of the burdens you will take up on the morrow, when you don the shawl of an Aes Sedai. It is done." For a third time, she clapped her hands together, before turning to leave the round chamber. The remaining seven women walked up to her. The Yellow sister offered Healing, and Eleonora nodded, shivering as the flows passed through her body. Her thoughts still on the memories of the test, she picked up her banded dress and made her way back to her room, heedless of whoever might see her in the still-busy halls of the Tower.
When the sisters came to escort her back to the Testing Chamber, Eleonora had packed away her belongings. Most of them would remain in the room for the next woman to be occupy it, but the two feastday dresses were her own property, along with the box of trinkets that had adorned her desk. She had spent the night considering the choice she was expected to make this morning, and had reached the same conclusion as she had every time she had thought about it since earning her ring.
At this hour there were still a few servants hurrying about the Tower. In more peaceful times, there would be enough servants to have completed their chores by this time, but the long wars has taken their toll on the Tower as much as the rest of the Ten Nations. Running what she planned to say through her mind as she followed her escort, she barely noticed where she was until the Amyrlin's voice broke her thoughts.
"Who comes here?"
"Eleonora Valentin," she replied clearly.
"For what reason have you come?"
"To swear the Three Oaths and thereby claim the shawl of an Aes Sedai." The ritual words came automatically to her.
"By what right do you claim this burden?"
"By right of having made the passage, submitting myself to the will of the White Tower."
"Then enter, if you dare, and bind yourself to the White Tower."
Eleonora walked into the chamber, passing through the oval ter'angreal with a slight shiver at the memory of what she had suffered within it. Kneeling before the Amyrlin Seat, she glanced surreptitiously around the chamber. Normally, the walls would be lined with all the Sitters, but many were absent, fighting alongside various armies, and only a few had bothered to appoint deputies. The seven women bearing shawls standing before the Hall brought a smile to Eleonora's lips. It seemed there was truth to the rumour that each new sister was welcomed to her Ajah by the woman who had directly preceded her.
The young sisters clad in just their coloured shawls were a welcome sight to their friend. All eight had been recruited at the same time, all born with the spark, and had become firm friends before they ever reached Tar Valon. They had studied together, and been raised Accepted within weeks of one another, despite their differences in ideology. Their Ajahs had been determined early, except for Eleonora, and as a result, many in the Tower had come to refer to the group as the Rainbow. Eleonora had even heard the Mistress of the Novices use the term, usually in exasperation at having to chastise them all at once. She was glad they were here. They would understand her choice, even if nobody else did.
Kneeling before the Amyrlin, she raised her hands out before her, palms upright. The Amyrlin placed the Oath Rod on them, and channelled a thin flow of Spirit into one end. Gripping the rod, Eleonora recited the Three Oaths, each one feeling to her like an invisible garment two sizes too small pressing on her skin.
"It is half done, and the White Tower is graven in your bones," the Amyrlin intoned. "Rise now, Aes Sedai, and choose your Ajah, and all will be done that may be done under the Light."
Eleonora stood, and turned slowly, looking at each of her friends, nodding to them as she did so; Carrigana in blue, Sulair in green, Shelaris in brown, Morian in red, Talorn in yellow, Diale in white, Pendra in grey. They nodded back with smiles, knowing what she was about to say. Having turned full circle, Eleonora looked the Amyrlin directly in the eye.
"I choose no Ajah," she announced loudly. A few of the Sitters muttered to each other, and the Amyrlin raise an eyebrow as Eleonora continued. "People change over even a normal lifespan. I have no wish to shackle myself to a single viewpoint at the expense of others simply because my past experiences lead me to feel a particular way on one specific day."
"You must choose an Ajah," the Keeper protested, "otherwise you are not Aes Sedai."
"Then I'll not be Aes Sedai," Eleonora countered. "Which means I don't need these." Channelling Air, she picked up the Oath Rod from the cushion held by the Keeper and gripped it tightly, directing a flow of Spirit into the numbers at its end. "I forswear the Three Oaths I just made." Instantly her body was wracked by more pain than she had ever felt in her life, even in the memories of her Testing, and she collapsed to the floor, the Oath Rod falling from her nerveless fingers.
Talorn took a half step toward the screaming woman, but a hiss from Morian halted her. The red-shawled Aemon's Fielder was Eleonora's closest friend among the Rainbow, and knew full well how the Aridhol woman would react to any interference. The other women stared in stunned silence until Eleonora stopped writhing in agony.
"That's impossible," exclaimed the sole Red Sitter. "She can't do that, can she?"
"I think … I just did," replied Eleonora weakly. "My name … is Barashelle Morellan." Her statement produced gasps of astonishment, as much for her audacity as for the lie. The name's true owner in her seven-striped shawl had more control, a slight smile flickering across her lips.
"How did you know the Oath Rod could do that?" demanded the Keeper angrily.
"Didn't," Eleonora said, her voice growing stronger. "It just seemed logical." The two White sisters behind Diale nodded approvingly as Eleonora staggered upright. Facing the Amyrlin, she channelled Air and picked up the Oath Rod from where it had rolled when she dropped it.
"Mother, I'd like to thank you and the White Tower for teaching me who I am, and who I might be." She channelled a small platform of Air before her and placed the Rod carefully on it, before removing her great Serpent Ring. "But I'm afraid I no longer belong here." Reluctantly, she placed her ring on the platform beside the Oath Rod, tying off the weaves so that it would remain in place, before releasing the Source. "If I ever did." With that, she turned and walked toward the door. The seven sisters who had escorted her were still standing outside the door, forming a barrier.
"Let her pass." At the Amyrlin's command, the escort separated before Eleonora. With no clear idea of what to do now, she returned to her room and began to unpack one of her feastday dresses. Although too ornate for day-to-day wear, it was the only thing she had to wear, and she was not about to walk through Tar Valon clad in the Light. As she was fastening the final button, she heard a knock on the door. She opened it to see the tall stone-faced Warder who usually accompanied the Amyrlin when she left her rooms.
"The Amyrlin wishes to see you immediately, Aes Sedai," he stated.
Eleonora hesitated. She didn't consider herself Aes Sedai, or even an initiate of the tower any more, yet even a king must obey a summons from the Amyrlin Seat. She picked up the bundle that comprised all her worldly possessions and gestured Anselan to escort her without bothering to correct him. She hoped the audience would be short, then she could simply leave the Tower afterwards.
To her surprise, the Warder led her back down to the Testing Chamber where Barashelle stood alone, still wearing nothing but her shawl, beside the platform of Air. The Oath Rod had been removed, but Eleonora's ring remained. As Anselan walked to his customary position behind the Amyrlin's right shoulder, Eleonora curtseyed awkwardly, still hurting from the taking and removal of the Oaths.
"As you have summoned me, Mother, so have I come."
"Rise, daughter, and look at me."
As Eleonora straightened up, the Amyrlin picked up the ring from the platform and held it out to her. "You forgot this, daughter. You earned it, as I earned mine."
"Thank you, Mother," Eleonora said hesitantly, taking the ring, but not putting it on. "If that's all you wanted…"
"It is not," Barashelle interrupted. "This belongs to you as well." She held out a hand to Anselan, who gave her a folded piece of paper, and passed it to Eleonora. Opening it, she was astonished to see it was a letter-of-rights to the value of one thousand crowns gold. "You will receive the same from the Tower every year on this date, or have it deposited as you desire if you are not here. We can't have Aes Sedai looking like paupers, after all."
"But I'm not Aes Sedai," protested Eleonora.
"It's not the Oaths than make an Aes Sedai, nor is it choosing an Ajah, no matter how much the Sitters would like it to be. I've looked into this before, believe me. I had more reason than most." She glanced briefly back at Anselan with a wry smile. "You passed the Testing. That is all that is required by Tower Law. You are Aes Sedai, daughter. Never let anybody tell you different."
"But the Hall…"
"I'll worry about the Hall, but you may find it best to leave the Tower for a time. When you return, you'll have rooms set aside for you in the Library. I know that traditionally those rooms are Brown territory, but the Library is open to all initiates of the Tower, and I suspect you will find little welcome in the Ajah quarters after today."
"Thank you Mother." Eleonora looked down at the Great Serpent ring in her hand, and slowly put it on the third finger of her right hand.
"I understand your friends are waiting for you in the Entrance Hall. I'm sure they'd be pleased to hear of your new situation."
"I'm sure they would," Eleonora replied. "By your leave, Mother, may I depart this place."
"You have my leave to go, daughter." As Eleonora reached the door, the Amyrlin spoke again.
"Should you decide to wear the shawl you have earned, be careful what colours you wear. Some sisters might take it the wrong way."
"They can think what they want, Mother. I'll wear the Rainbow proudly."