My name is Alexabeth Elmaena bel'Nethrine. I am 21 years old, and I have
been a novice for 6 years. I was born in Arad Doman, yet I was raised in
the Two Rivers; Emond's Field, to be exact. My mother "trained" me, you
might say, in the ways of the Domani, but having been a simple country
girl, I did not practice these...well..."skills" very often. And as I was
forced to grow up too quickly, I have yet to find the need for any of it.
When I was 12, my father died. How or by what force, we have still yet to
discover. Torbin Camrilis, a friend of the family, found him out by the
Waterwood one afternoon. There was no wound, no traces of poison, not even
any other footprints, except his own, and those belonging to Torbin. My
mother immediately began to accuse Torbin. Her reasoning was that there
was no other that could have done such. The how and why aspects escaped
her notice. Many tried to point out that it could have been natural
causes. Some even went as far as to say that even had it been Torbin,
there would have been some kind of marking, some kind of wound. She became
so consumed it drove her mad. Literally. She died not long after.
So consumed was she that she seemed to forget she had a daughter who still
depended on
her. Instead she began to unconsciously depend on me. She would never
notice when I walked into her room, while she lay weeping in her bed, and
set food beside her. She didn't notice my comings or goings, but the food
was always gone when I would come back. She never noticed every morning
when I would set out clothing for her to put on, or when I would draw her
bath. I never complained. I've always hated when others are angry,
especially when that anger is directed toward me, and I was sure she would
become upset if I shook her world anymore. But, Light, did I want to
complain! When she died, I almost didn't miss her. I did miss her though.
I just missed the "her" she once had been. Not the "her" that left me in
this cruel world all alone. For three days, I was left alone in the house,
still doing all of the chores, cooking my own meals. It took the neighbors
three days to remember that the bel'Nethrine's had had a daughter.
The Camrilis family took me in. The first thing out of Torbin's mouth as I
walked in carrying a few belongings was some kind of gibberish about how
sorry he was and how he swore that he hadn't killed my father, and for the
first time since my father's death, I wept. I wept since I had not had the
time for it before. I wept until I felt as though my eyes could never shed
moisture again. Then I wept some more. I've not since. Ever.
After the day I moved in with the Camrilises I spent almost all of my time
away from people. I would eat my meals in the room they had given me, and
if I wasn't inside eating, or doing chores, I would be outside; usually
around the Waterwood. I felt closer to my parents there, as though they
were with me. Sometimes, I actually believed they were. I would sit on
the bank, trailing my hands through the water, and suddenly, I would see
them! They would be standing together floating above the water. They
never looked like ghosts or apparitions; they looked like they were really
there. The oddest thing was, whatever I imagined them saying, they would
say. Not as though I was imagining it, but as though they were standing in
front of me actually speaking these things.
The first time this happened, I became desperately ill that night.
Mistress Camrilis had been afraid I was going to die. I had been too!
Maybe, I thought, my parents had been telling me I was to join them! "Oh
Light!" they informed me I would call out, "Don't let me die yet!" The
Light was merciful. As quickly as it came, it was gone, not too far into
the next day. No one had any idea what had caused it. No one did, except
crazy Mistress Magnagan.
Mistress Magnagan had not lived in Emond's Field long, and she had some
rather.strange ideas about things. When she first showed up, she never
stopped crying! I could hear her each night, and she had lived three doors
down. She became frailer as the days past, and everyone thought she seemed
to have lost her will to live. Until she wed a local man. The two of them
were very secretive, and her new husband was very protective of her. She
would often sit outside their house and she would tell us stories. Stories
of Kings and Queens and Aes Sedai. Those had always been my favorite. She
told those stories like no one else. Aes Sedai, I remember her saying,
were wise, and strong. The whole purpose of them was to keep the world
safe. She told stories of bravery and courage and every one of them ended
with so-and-so Sedai saving the world. None of her other listeners
believed a word of it, but I soaked it up like life-breath itself.
After I became ill, she pulled me aside, and told me something I almost
couldn't believe, and something she had a very hard time saying. She had
been an Aes Sedai! She had been stilled testing a ter'angrel back in the
Tower. The pain of her fellow Sister's rejection and the loss of saidar
had been the reason for her incessant tears when she had first come here.
Then she told me the most shocking news of all; I could channel! My
sickness had been due to my first use of the One Power. She then asked me
several questions, many of which I didn't understand at the time.
Questions like, if I was a wilder - and I must be, she said - then what was
my block? And what had I done, when I had channeled? I didn't know how to
answer either of those at first, but I do now.
My block is as such; I have to be touching water. Whether trailing my hand
through it, as I had done at the Waterwood, or standing ankle deep in it,
it didn't matter, so long as I was touching water. I've also found that it
doesn't matter whether salt or pure, new or used, (as repulsive as that may
seem) clean or tainted, just so long as it was water. As for what I had
done, I had conjured up my parents' forms and voices! Magnagan said she
had never heard of the like before, but she could not deny the fact. As
difficult as it was for her to handle, she was the one who first instructed
me. Although she could never again touch saidar, she led me through the
steps of sensing and surrendering, though most times, she stopped every few
minutes to shed tears for her own loss.
Later, Mistress Magnagan told the Camrilises everything, even her own dark
secret. So, two weeks after my 15th birthday, I was shipped off to Tar
Valon. I had wanted Mistress Magnagan to accompany me, but she claimed
that the sight of the beautiful White Tower would bring back too many
memories. Instead, Cosaal, the Camrilises 20-year-old son herded me there,
as though I was one of his goats. He hardly spoke to me the whole way. As
soon as we arrived, he left. He never bothered to make sure I was settled,
never even said good-bye. He just handed me my things, looked me up and
down once, and disappeared back into the crowded streets. I've never
missed the life I left behind.
As a novice, it took only one trip to the Mistress of Novices for me to
decide I never wanted to go again, and I didn't. Unlike most novices, the
pain and agony of things we were put though did not phase me. I'd gone
through worse. Maybe not physically worse, but emotional was more
tormenting anyway. I'm not one to pull pranks, and I've never found the
sight of a bucket of water falling over someone's head funny. Where is the
humor in this? Because of my "will for perfection" as some called it, I've
not made many friends among the other novices. They seem to believe that
I'm trying to show some sort of superiority. A superiority I don't believe
I have. I just strive to do well.
I've found that I have a slightly above average skill with healing, for
which I've had hints from Yellow Sisters that I should follow that study,
but my goal is to become a Green. The Green Ajah is not my goal because of
their usual love for men, although, I do find that interesting. The real
reason is that I seek to fight in Tarmon Gai'don. We will be needed help
if we are to destroy the Dark One, and I consider myself a strong person.
Strong physically, as well as strong in spirit. I do not have the stomach
for death, but I'm not exactly weak-stomached. If I am forced to accept
it, then I will accept it, and soak it in as I must.
I've so far only found a weakness in sensing the power in others. I can
feel that it's there, but unless I concentrate very hard, I can't tell how
strong they are. I also have a weakness with earth, like most woman, but
my skill with fire, water, and spirit, I have been informed, is quite
remarkable. These are the main parts of my Conjuring. One of the only
friends I made tried to teach me how to listen in on conversations, but I
didn't see the use for that. My block was easily over-come though, since I
hadn't been a Wilder for long. All they had to do was make me close my
eyes and have me touch a bit of spiced wine, instead of water. I hadn't
been sure what they were doing at first, but it worked. After I opened my
eyes, I was still able to channel, and I have been without touching water
since then.
I have often thought about having a Warder. As I have become very fond of
the out-of-doors, I will be wanting to journey. Also, I am planning on
fighting in Tarmon Gai'don. Thus I will need someone to watch my back.
The idea of marrying my Warder does not really appeal to me. Of course I
don't know who he will be, so I can't say for sure, now can I? Since I
have been paying attention to my studies so I can become Accepted and Aes
Sedai as soon as physically possible, I don't take the time, as some girls,
to gawk at the Warders-in-training (although, that's not to say I wouldn't
like to sometimes).
I have had a difficult life, to say the least, but I'd say I've fared
rather well. I have slightly surprised myself with the vigor I have put
into this goal. Especially considering that, before I found out about my
ability to channel, I had wanted to become famous as a traveling singer. I
actually consider my life to being better than some. Although I have had
hardships, it has only made me stronger. Some say it has made me stone,
but my outward personality is not carried through to what you see if you
look deeper.
been a novice for 6 years. I was born in Arad Doman, yet I was raised in
the Two Rivers; Emond's Field, to be exact. My mother "trained" me, you
might say, in the ways of the Domani, but having been a simple country
girl, I did not practice these...well..."skills" very often. And as I was
forced to grow up too quickly, I have yet to find the need for any of it.
When I was 12, my father died. How or by what force, we have still yet to
discover. Torbin Camrilis, a friend of the family, found him out by the
Waterwood one afternoon. There was no wound, no traces of poison, not even
any other footprints, except his own, and those belonging to Torbin. My
mother immediately began to accuse Torbin. Her reasoning was that there
was no other that could have done such. The how and why aspects escaped
her notice. Many tried to point out that it could have been natural
causes. Some even went as far as to say that even had it been Torbin,
there would have been some kind of marking, some kind of wound. She became
so consumed it drove her mad. Literally. She died not long after.
So consumed was she that she seemed to forget she had a daughter who still
depended on
her. Instead she began to unconsciously depend on me. She would never
notice when I walked into her room, while she lay weeping in her bed, and
set food beside her. She didn't notice my comings or goings, but the food
was always gone when I would come back. She never noticed every morning
when I would set out clothing for her to put on, or when I would draw her
bath. I never complained. I've always hated when others are angry,
especially when that anger is directed toward me, and I was sure she would
become upset if I shook her world anymore. But, Light, did I want to
complain! When she died, I almost didn't miss her. I did miss her though.
I just missed the "her" she once had been. Not the "her" that left me in
this cruel world all alone. For three days, I was left alone in the house,
still doing all of the chores, cooking my own meals. It took the neighbors
three days to remember that the bel'Nethrine's had had a daughter.
The Camrilis family took me in. The first thing out of Torbin's mouth as I
walked in carrying a few belongings was some kind of gibberish about how
sorry he was and how he swore that he hadn't killed my father, and for the
first time since my father's death, I wept. I wept since I had not had the
time for it before. I wept until I felt as though my eyes could never shed
moisture again. Then I wept some more. I've not since. Ever.
After the day I moved in with the Camrilises I spent almost all of my time
away from people. I would eat my meals in the room they had given me, and
if I wasn't inside eating, or doing chores, I would be outside; usually
around the Waterwood. I felt closer to my parents there, as though they
were with me. Sometimes, I actually believed they were. I would sit on
the bank, trailing my hands through the water, and suddenly, I would see
them! They would be standing together floating above the water. They
never looked like ghosts or apparitions; they looked like they were really
there. The oddest thing was, whatever I imagined them saying, they would
say. Not as though I was imagining it, but as though they were standing in
front of me actually speaking these things.
The first time this happened, I became desperately ill that night.
Mistress Camrilis had been afraid I was going to die. I had been too!
Maybe, I thought, my parents had been telling me I was to join them! "Oh
Light!" they informed me I would call out, "Don't let me die yet!" The
Light was merciful. As quickly as it came, it was gone, not too far into
the next day. No one had any idea what had caused it. No one did, except
crazy Mistress Magnagan.
Mistress Magnagan had not lived in Emond's Field long, and she had some
rather.strange ideas about things. When she first showed up, she never
stopped crying! I could hear her each night, and she had lived three doors
down. She became frailer as the days past, and everyone thought she seemed
to have lost her will to live. Until she wed a local man. The two of them
were very secretive, and her new husband was very protective of her. She
would often sit outside their house and she would tell us stories. Stories
of Kings and Queens and Aes Sedai. Those had always been my favorite. She
told those stories like no one else. Aes Sedai, I remember her saying,
were wise, and strong. The whole purpose of them was to keep the world
safe. She told stories of bravery and courage and every one of them ended
with so-and-so Sedai saving the world. None of her other listeners
believed a word of it, but I soaked it up like life-breath itself.
After I became ill, she pulled me aside, and told me something I almost
couldn't believe, and something she had a very hard time saying. She had
been an Aes Sedai! She had been stilled testing a ter'angrel back in the
Tower. The pain of her fellow Sister's rejection and the loss of saidar
had been the reason for her incessant tears when she had first come here.
Then she told me the most shocking news of all; I could channel! My
sickness had been due to my first use of the One Power. She then asked me
several questions, many of which I didn't understand at the time.
Questions like, if I was a wilder - and I must be, she said - then what was
my block? And what had I done, when I had channeled? I didn't know how to
answer either of those at first, but I do now.
My block is as such; I have to be touching water. Whether trailing my hand
through it, as I had done at the Waterwood, or standing ankle deep in it,
it didn't matter, so long as I was touching water. I've also found that it
doesn't matter whether salt or pure, new or used, (as repulsive as that may
seem) clean or tainted, just so long as it was water. As for what I had
done, I had conjured up my parents' forms and voices! Magnagan said she
had never heard of the like before, but she could not deny the fact. As
difficult as it was for her to handle, she was the one who first instructed
me. Although she could never again touch saidar, she led me through the
steps of sensing and surrendering, though most times, she stopped every few
minutes to shed tears for her own loss.
Later, Mistress Magnagan told the Camrilises everything, even her own dark
secret. So, two weeks after my 15th birthday, I was shipped off to Tar
Valon. I had wanted Mistress Magnagan to accompany me, but she claimed
that the sight of the beautiful White Tower would bring back too many
memories. Instead, Cosaal, the Camrilises 20-year-old son herded me there,
as though I was one of his goats. He hardly spoke to me the whole way. As
soon as we arrived, he left. He never bothered to make sure I was settled,
never even said good-bye. He just handed me my things, looked me up and
down once, and disappeared back into the crowded streets. I've never
missed the life I left behind.
As a novice, it took only one trip to the Mistress of Novices for me to
decide I never wanted to go again, and I didn't. Unlike most novices, the
pain and agony of things we were put though did not phase me. I'd gone
through worse. Maybe not physically worse, but emotional was more
tormenting anyway. I'm not one to pull pranks, and I've never found the
sight of a bucket of water falling over someone's head funny. Where is the
humor in this? Because of my "will for perfection" as some called it, I've
not made many friends among the other novices. They seem to believe that
I'm trying to show some sort of superiority. A superiority I don't believe
I have. I just strive to do well.
I've found that I have a slightly above average skill with healing, for
which I've had hints from Yellow Sisters that I should follow that study,
but my goal is to become a Green. The Green Ajah is not my goal because of
their usual love for men, although, I do find that interesting. The real
reason is that I seek to fight in Tarmon Gai'don. We will be needed help
if we are to destroy the Dark One, and I consider myself a strong person.
Strong physically, as well as strong in spirit. I do not have the stomach
for death, but I'm not exactly weak-stomached. If I am forced to accept
it, then I will accept it, and soak it in as I must.
I've so far only found a weakness in sensing the power in others. I can
feel that it's there, but unless I concentrate very hard, I can't tell how
strong they are. I also have a weakness with earth, like most woman, but
my skill with fire, water, and spirit, I have been informed, is quite
remarkable. These are the main parts of my Conjuring. One of the only
friends I made tried to teach me how to listen in on conversations, but I
didn't see the use for that. My block was easily over-come though, since I
hadn't been a Wilder for long. All they had to do was make me close my
eyes and have me touch a bit of spiced wine, instead of water. I hadn't
been sure what they were doing at first, but it worked. After I opened my
eyes, I was still able to channel, and I have been without touching water
since then.
I have often thought about having a Warder. As I have become very fond of
the out-of-doors, I will be wanting to journey. Also, I am planning on
fighting in Tarmon Gai'don. Thus I will need someone to watch my back.
The idea of marrying my Warder does not really appeal to me. Of course I
don't know who he will be, so I can't say for sure, now can I? Since I
have been paying attention to my studies so I can become Accepted and Aes
Sedai as soon as physically possible, I don't take the time, as some girls,
to gawk at the Warders-in-training (although, that's not to say I wouldn't
like to sometimes).
I have had a difficult life, to say the least, but I'd say I've fared
rather well. I have slightly surprised myself with the vigor I have put
into this goal. Especially considering that, before I found out about my
ability to channel, I had wanted to become famous as a traveling singer. I
actually consider my life to being better than some. Although I have had
hardships, it has only made me stronger. Some say it has made me stone,
but my outward personality is not carried through to what you see if you
look deeper.