Aftermath

Sometimes, Aleatha wished her position didn't require so much of her time. She loved her work, and there was nothing she'd rather do than help her novices and Accepted.  Still, it'd be good to help out in the Infirmary once more, or spend some time with her Bonded, Edwyn. Not that he was any less busy than she was. Or to walk in the Gardens.

She looked through a window and saw a soft drizzle was falling from lead-grey clouds outside. It was only early afternoon but it looked as if darkness may fall in any minute. She hoped winter would come soon; she preferred snow to rain.

Normally, Aleatha had a Novice or Accepted to get her lunch, but she felt like a walk and her schedule allowed her to leave her office for a few minutes. So, the stately White walked down the Halls of her Ajah with a tray of food and a pot of steaming tea, determined to have lunch in the office that was still hers even though she could now more often be found in the office of the Mistress of Novices.

The halls were grand; they amazed her still after all those years. Novices were constantly busy cleaning the spotless white marble floors and Aleatha had to admit they were doing well.

Except for one girl. If her eyes didn't betray her, that was a girl in a nightshift sleeping on one of the cold benches. And if her eyes didn't betray her...

Catieri. Aleatha wondered if they had let her out of the Infirmary or if she had taken her own way out... And she wondered if the danger was still there.

The White embraced saidar and shielded herself against the One Power, a strong shield that could only be broken by a channeler stronger than she was - and few were.

She put the tray down on the next bench and gently touched the girl's cheek. "Wake up, Catieri," she said, whispering in the Accepted's ear. "Wake up!"

Catieri stirred, her mind working uneasily, struggling from the depths of sleep. Trying to warn her. Still more than half asleep, Cat embraced the Source and began to weave her Storm. The graceful curves and jagged points of Spirit twisted around her in a protective halo, like some dark, sleepy angel. She lay still, feeling the cold of the stone around her.

Something was touching her face. No, someone. Someone speaking softly, so softly, the warm breath stirring the strand of hair that had escaped the loose knot at her nape. Wake up, Catieri, it said. Wake up!

She blinked the sleep away from her eyes and looked up. Silver hair and sad grey eyes looked back at her. She smiled a little, remembering her escape from the "private room" in the Infirmary, glad it was Aleatha Sedai who had found her, and not Liseitha or Rolanda. The woman's hand still rested lightly on Catieri's cheek.

"I shielded her, Aes Sedai," she whispered. "I shielded her and left."

As soon as Catieri stirred the glow of saidar appeared around her and threads started forming, a web as delicate as Aleatha had ever seen, even in Healing.

As gently as she could, she wove a shield of Spirit and cut Catieri off from the source.

"I shielded her and left," the girl whispered. Aleatha nodded. There was no need to ask Catieri who 'her' was, undoubtedly it was the Yellow that had been on duty when Cat had left.

Aleatha helped the girl sit up. "Do you know you were about to use your weave again, Catieri? That's why I shielded you. If you assure me you can control it, I will take it away. I want to talk to you, Catieri. Tell me, can you control it?"

Aleatha's steady silver eyes looked at the Accepted questioningly.

That gave Catieri pause. Could she control it? She wasn't sure. But the shield...she mustn't be shielded. And perhaps if she really concentrated on it, as she had studied the first shield, perhaps she could control it. Even learn to use it intentionally.

"I...I think so, Aes Sedai," she murmured, staring bemused at Aleatha's eyes. Such a strange colour, and so sad. Almost as sad as her own. Or, as sad as her own had been before Leha Sedai had Healed her. Now, she wasn't sure, but she thought a haunted, frightened look hung about her eyes. It was wrapped around her soul, whether it showed through her eyes or no. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

She asked only for confirmation, of course. She knew. Her weave was the only thing anyone not Black Ajah ever wanted to ask her about. She pictured the weave now, so beautiful, like twisting rose vines, studded with thorns, wrapping itself around her, extending to caress those around her. Aleatha was right, of course; she needed to be able to control it. To put it to use.

Hesitantly, she let go of the shield between Catieri and the source. "I hope you're sure, Catieri." Taking the girl's hand, she helped her up and guided her towards her office. They arrived and Aleatha noticed once again Catieri was dressed in nothing but a stained nightgown.

The White closed the door behind the Accepted and moved towards a large cupboard, opening one of its carved doors. She took out a clean light grey dress, simple and useful.

Pointing at a second door, she spoke to Catieri. "You can clean yourself up and change over there, Catieri. While you're at it, I want you to think about your definition of good and evil, and your way of deciding if something is good or not."

Her face showed a hint of compassion. "I do not approve of the way the Yellows dealt with your problem, but I am only one woman. I will try, however, to help you my own way."

Channeling a gust of Air, she opened the door to her second room for the Accepted.

Catieri watched the graceful movements of her benefactress as she moved about the room, wondering what sort of definition she wanted. The Light is good and the Shadow is bad, she thought, or something more substantial? She doubted, for some reason, that the Aes Sedai would be satisfied with anything so simplistic. She went obediently through the door Aleatha Sedai opened, shutting it softly behind her. She stood before the washstand, washing herself absently, not really seeing anything around her.

Well, then, how do I define good and evil? It was not a question Catieri had ever asked herself, even though she recognized the depth of the evil Rolanda and Liseitha had drawn her into. Evil, of course, stemmed from the Shadow, and yet there was evil in the world that was not of the Shadow. Shadar Logoth was a stunning example, yet even that city had turned on itself while looking for a way to fight the Shadow. All evil, then, must have some root in the Shadow, and the Shadow must have some small claim on the hearts of all men.

And what, then, was good? The Light was good, but what was the Light? It sprang from the Creator, but the Creator was a distant and uninvolved entity, the opposite of the Dark One in every way. Were things good beyond the Light, or did the Light have a hand in all good things, just as the Shadow was behind all evil? The Light was a more vague thing even than the Creator, and was likely more a term to describe all things good than to designate that which came from the Creator. Did not everything come from the Creator? Even the Shadow, and the Dark One? The Light, then, was not the counterpart of the Shadow, being all things that stemmed from the Creator as the Shadow was all the dominion of the Dark One, but was all things good, all things that fought the Shadow.

But could good things exist which did not fight the Shadow? Were there lonely islands of passive goodness in the sea of Shadow-hearted men? Those who would bend in the wind and not let the storm break them? It might be so, but Catieri did not know. She drew the worn grey dress over her head, and then stood staring into the small looking glass.

"And which am I?" she asked herself before she went back into Aleatha's front room. "One who would break?"

Or one already broken.