Marisa's Arches



*Swish, swish, swish, swish...* Marisa's eyelids drooped, her face haggard and pale with the weariness that three days without sleep often brought. *Stay awake. You can't fall asleep here, not standing up, certainly not holding a broom.* The little nagging voice had been growing louder and louder as she made her slow way down the hall, dragging her broom over floors that had been meticulously picked over many a time by novices without much to do. The Aes Sedai in the Tower were few these days, and those who were there were mostly tied up in their own affairs. The surplus of novices made it so that the Tower was immaculately maintained on any given day. It was all busywork, of course, but Marisa recognized it for its purpose: to build concentration, to build obedience, to build that elusive thing the Aes Sedai called character. And to build arm muscles, it seemed. Seven months of dragging a broom about, wrestling with cook pots, and scrubbing floors had kept the novice in fighting condition, even better than the Seanchan had kept her. Seven months of lessons had taught her more about the Power than four years with the invaders had; now she knew at least more than battle weaves. She still didn't remember most of what had happened in those years, and even less of before them. She stared down at the broom with distaste, glaring back at the expanse of clean floor behind her. *Waste of time...maybe I'll go and catch a nap somewhere secluded. Chances are, they won't even notice.* Light...only four months ago she never would have expected a thought like that to cross her mind. Another indication of how much she'd changed. She leaned her broom against the wall and peered around for any witnesses. "Marisa." The girl went rigid, a shrill indrawn gasp hissing in through her teeth, her shoulders tensing as if expecting a sudden blow. After the moment of sheer panic passed, some part of her mind cursed the MoN's ability to approach so quietly. "Ah...yes, Liranan Sedai, I'm almost finished," she murmured quickly, grabbing the broom again with hands that still trembled a bit at any confrontation with authority. *Good...you're caught now, see what disobedience gets you?* The voice sounded like Elrith. It made Marisa shiver. The Mistress of Novices cast a glance up the hall, then nodded. "You've done enough for now. Right now you must come with me." The imperative tone in her voice made Marisa glance up in surprise, and what she saw on the woman's face made dismay sink a heavy stone into her gut. A determined, sharp gaze stared back down at her...a stare that meant something. The novice's voice, almost shrill and taut with something resembling panic, exploded from her. "Liranan Sedai, I wasn't really going to go and take a nap, I was just resting for a moment. I promise I was. I'll finish the floor now. I'm sorry I paused...but I'm so tired, and I haven't been sleeping, and--and I just thought I might pause for a moment. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again, I promise." She knew she was babbling, but could do little to stop it. In her mind she could see the willow switch Liranan Sedai was rumored to keep in her office. Certainly the bite of that switch would be nothing compared to what the Seanchan had done to her--they had rarely left her able to walk when they punished her--but she couldn't stand the shame, the self-hatred, the helpless anger that struck her when she was being punished in any way. Her hands were shaking again. She wished they'd stop. "No, child, you misunderstand me." The Aes Sedai's voice was gentle but firm; she'd long since become accustomed to Marisa's complete terror when she thought she was in trouble and had learned how to deal with such panic. "You've been summoned. The Arches wait for no one. Now, please...come with me." She turned and walked away, her skirts swishing on the clean floor. Marisa had no choice but to follow her, staring in shock, unable to reply or even form a coherent thought through the sudden rush of terror...
~~~~~~~~~~

*Oh, Light, I'm not ready...I know I'm not...Creator help me, I know I can't do this...* Marisa's thoughts swirled in circles as she silently followed the Mistress of the Novices down a seldom-used hallway, the only sounds the clicking of Liranan Sedai's shoes on the slate floor. The girl had to struggle to keep up, and yet, she was shocked she could move at all. *Seven months? I've heard of people being novices for decades. I can't be ready. Not when I'm still so afraid...* But, of course, that had been a different time then. Back then, when the Dragon Reborn was just another legend and the hand of the Dark One had not pressed so heavily upon the world, the Aes Sedai had possessed plenty of time to train their novices and Accepted at their leisure. This was a time of war, a time of urgency when Tarmon Gai'don could happen any day. But still...no, she couldn't be ready. Not now. Liranan Sedai paused only once, to take a flaming torch from a bracket in the wall. She beckoned to Marisa, indicating a stone stairway descending into darkness. The middle of each step was gently worn away, the shoes of a thousand years of novices doing the work of eternity. Marisa wondered how much terror these steps had witnessed, and what else they had seen. Indistinct beyond the warm circle of the torch's light, they glimmered like hundreds of winking eyes. Too many secrets. Marisa wished she had never heard any of them. She watched numbly as a door opened before them, and followed the MoN into the cavernous room beyond. The huge ter'angreal, three tall silver rings joined at the ends, sat flickering gently in the room's center. They exuded an unbelievable sense of menace. The Aes Sedai sitting before each one stared intently into the light, as if trying to glean what waited for the quivering novice within. Without preamble, Liranan Sedai spoke. "Marisa, I know you are frightened. I know you believe you can't do this...but be strong. You do not have to go now if you think you aren't ready. Novices are given three chances at this. You may refuse twice to enter but at the third refusal you will be sent away from the Tower forever." Marisa shuddered at the thought...where would she go if she had to leave here? "Will you go on?" *Oh, Light...* "Yes." It came out as barely a whisper, but it was audible. Thoughts of Elrith, of the Aiel, of revenge swirled through her mind. She knew she had to do this. The Aes Sedai nodded slightly. "Good. Now...I will tell you two things no woman hears until she stands where you do. Once you begin you must go on to the end. Refuse at any point and you will put out of the Tower just as if you had refused to begin for the third time. Second. To seek, to strive, is to know danger. Some women have entered and never come out. When the ter'angreal was allowed to grow quiet, they - were - not - there. And they were never seen again. If you will survive, you must be steadfast. Falter, fail and..." "I will not fail," Marisa whispered, only half to herself. Mechanically, she went through the motions of what she had been taught. She pulled her dress over her head and left it folded neatly on the floor, shivering as the air touched her bare skin. "Whom do you bring with you, Sister?" "One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance, Sister," Liranan replied. "Is she ready?" "She is ready to leave behind what she was, and, passing through her fears, gain Acceptance." "Does she know her fears?" "She has never faced them, but now is willing." "Then let her face her fears." Marisa was suddenly acutely aware of how alone she was in that room full of people, and how much she wanted to run and never return. *Light, make me strong...please...* "The first time," Liranan Sedai said, "is for what was. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast." Marisa closed her eyes and let the light engulf her as she stepped forward.

~~~~~~~~~~
"Kneel, girl." It was a pleasant voice, more sisterly than motherly; the woman who spoke was young. The hand extended toward her was smooth-skinned and soft, pale except for a few freckles scattered across the creamy, slender fingers. It was amazing, how many insignificant details became so important at times like these. She could see everything with the perfect clarity of a person experiencing near-fatal sensory overload. Only her hearing was not so acute, but that was understandable. It was surprising anyone could hear anything over her screams. She kept her eyes fixed on that delicate band that encircled the woman's pale wrist, on the silvery length of chain that hung from it. That chain...no, that *leash*...jerked back and forth as the convulsions ripped through Marisa Edavar's body. She had long since stopped trying to claw the attached collar from around her neck. Her fingers were bleeding too badly and kept slipping. So she concentrated on keeping herself upright as she clung desperately to the ruined side of her father's carriage, and on staring at that hand. It was so smooth and kind-looking, but of course, so was this woman's smile. This woman who called her "pet", and "girl", and who had only ten minutes ago murdered Marisa's father before her eyes. "Eventually, you will learn to obey. Others will not be as merciful as I am being now. Listen...I am called Elrith. What is your name?" The woman's soft, slurring voice burned into her consciousness, and the fourteen-year-old Saldaean girl had just enough energy to snarl at her tormentor and spit at her. "Take this thing off of me!" she gasped, her words broken by uncontrollable shudders, but her fury still evident. "If you won't tell me your name, then I will give you a new one." The woman made this sound as if this were the most reasonable conclusion in the world. "You will be called Celie from now on. You will be my personal damane, I think. You've got pretty hair." That hand, that damnable hand, reached out and actually stroked Marisa's tossing, thrashing head, as if she were a lapdog. "Now...I have told you to kneel. You can make this easier." The pain vanished as quickly as it had come, and drained, the girl flopped to the ground. Her bleeding hands wandered up one more time to clutch at the collar that fit snugly around her throat, then went limp. Gasping for breath seemed the most important thing in the world. When she could breathe again, she sobbed. *Oh, please...help me, somebody...show me the way out of this...* A phantom voice spoke in her tortured mind. *The way will come but once. Be steadfast.* The sul'dam Elrith's hand descended again, to wipe away a streak of dark hair that was clinging to Marisa--no, Celie's sweat-soaked cheek. "Now, Celie, you'll be good. Won't you?" *The way will come but once.* And the damane lifted her blurry eyes to see the streets of Tanchico swimming before her, and the woman the center of all consciousness, and a silvery arch that glimmered just beyond the sul'dam's lightning-paneled skirts. *Be steadfast.* She pushed herself up to her hands and knees, steeling herself against the uncontrollable shudders that ripped through her body. Her hair hung in tangles around her face. She could hear herself whispering things, inanities, a litany that seemed to make no sense at all. The sul'dam watched her silently, letting the silvery chain of the leash swing slightly...just to remind her. "Marisa...name is not Celie, it's Marisa...not a damane...not your pet...Marisa...burn you, not Celie...be steadfast..." It seemed to her now that she could see the future of her life with this woman and her barbaric people, long months of breaking and long years of building up, the battles in which she had to kill people she'd once considered her own countrymen, the ever-growing feeling that the Seanchan were right, that she was only fit to serve, sub-human and meant to be leashed. And the Arch...it waited, just beyond reach... Marisa began to crawl forward. Immediately the pain came again, invisible fire suffusing every cell, forcing a hoarse cry out of her. "You kneel there, Celie, I told you. Don't move." Still the damane forced herself forward, dragging herself by her fingernails. The agony intensified, but all she could see was that inviting white light on her face. *Be steadfast. Be steadfast. Be steadfast.* She reached the Arch just as her heart began to weaken under the strain of the blinding pain, and as she pushed forward she heard a shrill cry-- "Celie! Please!" She turned around to see Elrith, her dress torn and the collar around her own pale neck, fall clutching an Aiel spear. The horrible weapon protruded from her torso, in the middle of a spreading red bloom. The damane screamed in horror and agony as she saw her sul'dam fall dead. "Nooooooooo!" She forced herself to her feet, trying to run to the fallen Seanchan's aid, but an Aiel woman loomed up like death itself before her and shoved her backwards. The damane fell into spinning white light...
~~~~~~~~~~

And Marisa tumbled, sprawling, onto the cold stone floor. Its roughness scraped her bare shoulder blades as she lay there, staring up at the cavernous ceiling. Tears trickled slowly down her face. "Oh, Elrith...I loved you...I hated you..." she whispered, sobbing silently as the Aes Sedai watched her. Slowly, she stood up again, and bowed her head like a penitent. Liranan Sedai gently poured a stream of water over her head, cleansing the sweat and tears from her skin, and Marisa lifted her face to catch the flow. Yes, she remembered it now. She remembered it all. "You are washed clean of what sin you may have done, and of those done against you. You are washed clean of what crimes you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us washed clean and pure, in heart and soul." For the first time in almost five long years, Marisa believed something that an Aes Sedai had said. Opening her eyes, she stared at the second Arch before her.

A thin stream of water traced its way down Marisa's spine as she stood in the center of the room, staring at the second arch before her. Nearby, Liranan Sedai watched her closely, seeming ready to speak at any sign of hesitation. The shivering novice simply stood, and watched the flickering white light. "You must go through to the end, Marisa," the Aes Sedai murmured softly, her voice gentle. "Once you've begun, you can't go back." "I know." She lifted her head, which was still whirling with the memories and emotions the first Arch had dredged up. *Marisa Edavar...daughter of a Saldaean noble...yes, he took me up to Tarabon the summer they invaded...and after they attacked, they rounded all of us up and tested us...and I passed, or failed. Light, I didn't even remember about Father...* She had a feeling she'd have to grieve for him soon, but not now. Now... "Marisa?" "I'm ready." "The second time is for what is. Be steadfast." Marisa stepped forward, and into the arch.


~~~~~~~~~~

She was greeted by the sound of cheerful voices. Marisa Edavar looked down at herself in shock for a moment; the feeling of sudden disorientation had shaken her severely. She took a moment to get her bearings. Her fingers brushed at her white skirts. Yes...there was the familiarity. Another day as a novice. A broom stood nearby, leaning against the wall. What had been happening? She thought hard, squinting her eyes. Ah, yes...she had been planning to go and take a nap somewhere, and then Liranan Sedai had-- No, Liranan Sedai wasn't here. *Oh...what was I thinking?* She took up her broom and began to sweep again. After a while, an Aes Sedai came walking briskly down the hall, chatting with a few Accepted. Marisa paused, smiled, and dropped a curtsy. This was one of the women who had been teaching her. However, the Aes Sedai passed by without looking at her and continued down the hall. The novice blinked in confusion, staring after the group of people. "Mena Sedai?" she called. No reaction. Slightly bewildered, Marisa shrugged, slightly rebuffed by the woman's snub. She put her attention back into sweeping, making sure the hall was nice and spotless. Then she went to return the broom to the storage closet. As she passed the kitchen, she called a shy greeting to the Mistress of the Kitchens. The woman, engrossed in watching several sweating novices scrub out a pot, did not reply either. Marisa called louder, to no avail. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion...was her voice really that quiet? With a wormy twinge of unease, she continued on her chores. The Tower seemed unusually unreceptive today. She waved, smiling, to people she knew, only to have them meet her gaze with blank indifference. Marisa's heart began to beat a little harder. "Arcena...Arcena, congratulations on being Raised," she called to a girl in a banded dress. The Accepted shouldered past her, bumping her to the side. It was almost as if...almost as if they didn't see her at all. *As if I were invisible.* Marisa's steps quickened as her pulse did the same. She didn't want to run--it was as if the rising panic would break if she did--but she hurried, calling out to people as she met them in the halls. "Jannlin Sedai, excuse me...can I...Annakin Sedai? Ah--" she gasped as a Warder shoved directly through the space where she was walking, knocking her to the floor. She landed painfully on her leg, scraping her elbows on the floor when they hit. A giggling young novice trod on Marisa's ankle as she passed, tripped, and went on without looking back. Marisa stumbled to her feet, fleeing out of the steady stream of people that passed. She pressed herself back against the wall, staring at the scores of unseeing faces that passed her. Her lips were trembling uncontrollably, and so were her hands. "Kia'en Sedai, look at me! I'm right here--look at me!" she demanded desperately as the woman paused to speak to someone. She clutched at the Aes Sedai's sleeve, pulling desperately on it, not caring if her actions would get her in trouble. The woman absentmindedly brushed her hand away, then passed blithely by. That was the final blow. Marisa sat down on the floor as if all her strength had left her at once, and the tears in her eyes spilled over. She began to cry like a little child, sitting in the middle of the hallway, her sobs loud enough that nobody could ignore them...and yet, they did. "Why won't anyone look at me?!" she wailed through her tears. "Please, just someone look at me!" *Alone...utterly alone in a crowd of thousands...she could touch them, she could speak to them, but to them she was nothing...* Desperate now, Marisa shoved herself to her feet and ran, weeping hysterically, down a hall multiplied into a prismatic array by her tear-filled eyes. She collided with both walls and people along her way, their force knocking her around like a rubber ball, but she barely noticed, even when the force of the collisions knocked her sprawling. Her knees, nose, and arms were bloodied by the time she reached the novice quarters, and the sobs had twisted her face into a contorted, red mask. *Alone. Alone. Alone.* The horrible word sounded again and again in her head like a death knell. *Light help me, don't let it be this way!* She burst into the room she had lived in for the past seven months, gasping for breath and almost doubled over. The door rebounded into the thin wall, but the girl sitting on the bed--her bed--didn't even notice. She was paging through a book borrowed from the library, her long red hair spread across the pillow. "Who are you? Tell me who you are and why you're in my room!" But even as she demanded the answer, she knew. She had been replaced. She no longer existed in this world...but she was here anyway. A knock at the door whirled her around to see the smiling face of the Mistress of Novices looking right at her. "Liranan Sedai, tell me I'm here, please tell me you see me!" she babbled, clutching at the front of the woman's dress. "Novice Claudia, I have a chore for you," the Aes Sedai said placidly. "Come with me." She stepped back, out of Marisa's grasp. The novice obediently stood and followed. "Liranan Sedai, don't do this! Nobody will look at me or talk to me, and I need someone around me! I'm so scared...please don't turn away! Don't leave me here alone, please! PLEASE!" the dark-haired girl howled. The Mistress of the Novices' retreating back was her only answer. Marisa flung herself out into the hall again, fell to her knees in the middle, and her head jerked upward. She screamed at the ceiling, an anguished, ragged wail that nobody heard. Scream after scream ripped from her lungs, until her voice broke and hissed into silence. Even then her soul still cried out just as loudly. More weary than she had ever been, she leaned forward, letting her forehead rest on the cool stone. *Alone. You're utterly, absolutely alone here...* She got up again, stumbling like a sleepwalker, only one thought left in her shock-blasted mind by now. A balcony that overlooked the Tower courtyard, a high balcony with a low railing. *What does it matter? I'm not here anyway. I'm not anywhere.* She walked with a purpose now. A final purpose. The late afternoon sun shone hot on her slumped shoulders as she emerged onto the balcony. She trudged over to the edge and slowly climbed over the side. Her soft shoes crunched on the chipped marble flakes that had fallen on the narrow ledge. Marisa wrapped both hands around the balustrade and leaned forward...farther...farther... *The way will come back but once. Be steadfast.* She closed her eyes and ignored the voice. "This is the way," she murmured. "This is the only way now." White light, different from the sun, glimmered before her. She opened her eyes to stare down into oblivion...and saw a bright silver arch hanging suspended in the air just before her, a few feet away. *The way will come but once. Be steadfast.* *Light...how can I make it? What if I fall?* Another voice spoke, this one darker and softer. *What do you care if you don't make it? You wanted to fall. You still want to. So do it.* Marisa stared at the arch...the way out. The true way out. It would require a jump, just as her other end had...but this time there was hope that something would catch her. A leap of faith. But first...could she do it? "I want to live," she whispered fiercely, and jumped. 

~~~~~~~~~~
She walked out of the arch, eyes closed tightly, fists clenched at her sides. There was complete silence in the testing room, except for the humming of the Arches. She stood still in front of the ter'angreal, perfectly still, waiting for someone to approach her. Nobody did. Her heart withered and died in her. *Still alone...it never changes...* Then... "You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us, washed clean in heart and soul." Marisa wept quietly as the water poured over her head, wept with thanks and gratitude to the Light.
~~~~~~~~~~

"The third time is for what will be," Liranan Sedai said quietly, gazing at Marisa in the flickering light of the Arch. "The way will come back but once. Be steadfast." Bright light. The world spun, and resolved itself into a woman's face. She was an old woman, her skin brown and deeply creased, her pure white hair hanging straight down her back, held out of her face by a folded scarf. Eyes as bright and blue as hidden desert lakes peered out from the weathered face, keen and alert despite the woman's obvious age. She stood up straight, staring into Marisa's face, giving no indication that she had even considered flinching away from the knife at her throat. "I've waited for this moment for years," Marisa said quietly, her voice a hiss. Her striking hand trembled, pushing the blade against the woman's wrinkled neck. She had to fight not to sob as she stood there, her dream of revenge standing almost-fulfilled before her, her life's obsession at hand. Terrible visions ran through her head...of the battle, of Elrith screaming in terror and pain as the Aiel began to torture her and as she made the realization that very few Seanchan ever had...that the sul'dam were as susceptible to the leash as their damane were...and of the spear going through her midsection, killing her within seconds. This was the woman. This was the one who had taken the two of them prisoner, who had removed the collar from Marisa's neck, who had pushed the terrified sul'dam into the circle of Wise Ones and given the order to put the a'dam around her throat instead. "You killed my sul'dam. It was your fault...and now I am going to kill you." "If you feel you must, then do it," the ancient Aiel woman said softly. "I am old, and have served my purpose. You have me at your mercy. If you think I have wronged you, take your revenge." "I remember what you did to me then...I fought all of you, I tried to kill you, and you held me down over the side of the wagon and beat me. You tried to make me use the One Power...to *train* me to use it, like all of you filthy marath'damane, and when I didn't you sold me to strangers! You're the reason I'm like this...the reason I've lost all I love, all I care about..." The Aiel woman watched her silently. "You loved your captors?" she said softly. "You loved those who took away your freedom? I tried to break the hold they had on you. I tried to teach you the ways of a Wise One, and when you acted like a child, I treated you as such. It was only when I realized I could not train you the way you should be that I sent you to the White Tower. And you're different now...stronger, I can see it in your own eyes. They've done good for you there." The words battered against Marisa's wall of fury, crumbling it, filling her with fatal doubt. "Shut up!" she snarled, lifting up a hand to strike the bound woman-- And blinked with shock at the silver bracelet encircling her wrist, leading to a collar. A tall, blond-haired girl knelt on the ground, hands folded at her waist, eyes downcast, her form swathed in the dark gray dress of a damane. Slowly, and just slightly, she lifted her meek face to look at Marisa. "Elrith!" Marisa whispered, stunned. "Forgive me, sul'dam..." the Seanchan woman murmured, closing her eyes tightly. "I've wronged you. I deserve to be punished." Marisa stared down at her former captor, feeling the heft of the silver a'dam in her hands, feeling the tiny pocket of emotions that resonated from the girl's mind. It was fear, mostly...pure terror. And suddenly, she realized that she enjoyed the feeling of that terror...loved it. "Yes," she breathed, and jerked the a'dam closer, forcing Elrith to crawl to her feet. "Yes, you do." The Seanchan knelt there, trembling. "It is the job of a damane to protect her sul'dam, not hurt her...and if she fails, it is her own fault, and she must be punished. Do you remember telling me that, Elrith? Do you remember telling me that, and then sending me the feeling of hot coals burning my fingers, for hours, until I was screaming and begging you to stop? Do you remember making me eat dinner like that, and making me spend a whole night with that feeling in my hands? Maybe I will do that to you now...or make you feel what I felt in those months when you taught me my new name, or give all of those four years to you at once. What should I do? Tell me!" Elrith gave a barely audible sob, covering her face with her hands. Nearby, the Aiel woman's piercing eyes scrutinized her. *Yes...revenge...all of them. This is what I want. First them, and then all of the Seanchan...all of the Aes Sedai...everyone who's hurt me...it's all right here...* She embraced saidar, enough to kill. *The way will come but once...be steadfast...* The words seared their way into her brain, killing all other thought...and then she saw it. The silver arch, shimmering just beyond Elrith, beckoning to her. She stared at it...and screamed. "No!! No, this is what I want! You can't take this away from me!" The arch rippled slightly, as if taunting her with its disappearance. "Please, sul'dam...I've hurt you...I deserve it..." "Yes...this is what you want, so do it. Live in the world you created." Haunted by the Aiel woman's eyes, Marisa stared at the two of them before her, waiting for her justice, for her fury. In Elrith, she saw the terrible, debilitating fear she'd felt when faced with this same ordeal...and in the woman, she saw a quiet strength that filled her with shame. A sob rose in her throat as she saw all she hated about herself personified in these two. As the arch shimmered again, Marisa tore the sul'dam's bracelet from her wrist and turned away, banishing the two from her view forever.

~~~~~~~~~~


She stumbled through the arch and back into the room of testing, tears streaming down her face, but her head held high for the first time in four years. The chalice splashed cool water down over her shoulders. "You are washed clean of Marisa Edavar of Saldaea. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to this world. You are Marisa Edavar, Accepted of the Tower of Chasaline. You are tied to us now."

 


~~~~~~~~~~


Mail the Author

More Arches

Back to the Library

Back to the Tower

This page was created by Liranan Sedai, Mistress of Novices.
Send questions and updates to the Chasaline Webmistresses.
Last updated on 10 January 2001 by Miyahd Sedai, Mistress of Novices.

1