Dusk fell on Tar Valon as Braden Vitan gathered up his belongings from his room in the siswai barracks and prepared to move into the manshima barracks across the practice field with his peers. He sat on the bed he had slept in for nearly four years, staring at the wall, remembering his journey from that day to this.

He remembered that his parents, Marcus and Lucia, had not wanted him to go. Not just to Tar Valon, where his Aunt Senara, his father's much beloved younger sister, had disappeared nearly a decade ago, though there was that too. They didn't want him to leave home. He had wondered at the time whether it was just that he was the oldest of their children, first born of five healthy and large boys, and they weren't ready to let him go.

He had embraced them both before leaving and given his second oldest in age brother, Roryan, the first throwing dagger he had ever made on their father's forge. He had saddled Roman, his faithful and ever patient steed, and galloped away to his destiny, alone, and exhilerated. He had known for years that he was not meant to be a farmer or a blacksmith, although his father was arguably the best of both categories in most of Andor.

He had met Lydia, a sassy and smart young Accepted on his first day in town. She had proved to be the most demanding and most infuriating female the then seventeen year old Braden had ever come into contact with. Of course that also meant that they became close friends in the years to come, and Lydia, now an Aes Sedai with the yellow ajah, known for her healing skill, would always be, somehow, his favorite Aes Sedai.

Once, midway through his first year, Braden had been in the stables, caring for Roman, when a small group of well dressed young ladies showed up in the barn at the behest of their instructor, Nefertariamun Sedai, ostensibly to teach them to behave with decorum and dignity no matter what the task, to behave like Aes Sedai.

It probably wasn't a good idea to taunt them, but he couldn't help it. The girls were silent as they went about their duties, hoping, perhaps, to remain unnoticed by the handsome warder trainee in the corner, feeding a tall black horse. As the seconds stretched into minutes, and the girls must have been reasonably sure they were safe from harassment, a strong male voice range out among the rafters. "Oh, beautiful ladies of Tar Valon, mucking the stables with pretty clothes on, oh ladies of the tower, ladies of power, ladies who really, really, really, need a shower."

He had always received compliments at home from family and friends alike for his singing voice, but he knew there was to be no compliments from this crowd. Some hissing, some stomping their feet, or clikcing their tongues against their teeth, but no cheering, no laughing, no happy sounds at all. It was in the middle of the second verse, having something to do with grace and composure while walking in horse dung, that the first piece hit the back of his shirt.

He chuckled, continuing to sing the praises of the graceful ladies who needed a shower and some manners, and then screaming at the doorway followed by another round of not quite dry offal landed on his left shoulder, slipping somewhat beneath the neck of his shirt, and sliding thickly down the front of his shirt. The scream came from Alexandra, also then an Accepted, as one of the novices had missed him altogether and hit the front of her red domani dress. She looked furious, and so did the other girls. Lydia looked at him with a mixture of fury and amusement, neither sure as they regarded each other, which would win out.

After his shower, he faced his punishment for "inciting a riot in the barn, harassing the novices, causing the stables to become so dirty and foul that no one could stand to set foot inside, and many other things" Mistress Hashan and Nefertariamun Sedai had jointly come up with regarding his less than stellar behavior that afternoon.

Three months of stable duty, every horse that belonged to an Aes Sedai, bonded warder, Accepted, or Ashanderei, would be cared for personally, by Braden Vitan, foolish siswai, since he obviously had too much spare time, and so obviously needed something to do. Those three months were pretty lonely for him, because, as it turned out, that song heard round the tower had made him the most hated warder trainee in recent history, and he became the focus of glares and snide remarks for the entire term of his penance.

Lydia stuck by him though, a true friend, even though she too gave him a tongue lashing for his "amazing stupidity". Around the time that Lydia was about to be raised to the shawl, and Braden spent much time wondering what that would do to their friendship, he met Krion, a warder trainee of the second rank, and in the quiet borderlander, Braden found the brother of his heart. First brought together by a reluctant visit to the infirmary, they werre surprised to find the other's passion for the bow. Where Krion was cautious and took only calculated risks, Braden was like a big excited puppy, throwing himself wholeheartedly into every task with youthful abandon.

He had almost lost that precious friendship nearly a month before, sticking his nose where it didnt belong. A man ought not try to direct the love life of his friend, another man, or a woman. His matchmaking efforts proved to be disastrous, and he had learned some things were more important than being right. Some things were more precious, more worthwhile than trying to teach someone else a lesson. He was lucky Krion was still talking to him after that episode, and he vowed not to interfere in the man's affairs again.

Four years at the tower and it took nearly losing his best friend to teach him not to be so impulsive. He should have learned that at home. There were times when he himself wondered whether he would ever be bonded or whether his early-made reputation for mischief had tainted his worth as a protector was tainted in the eyes of those whom he would guard against all harm be it human or shadow, or animal.

The consequences of his actions weighed heavily on his heart, especially today. Against all odds, at least in Braden's own point of view, he had been raised to the second level ranking of a Manshima. He wasn't sure yet whether he felt he deserved the honor, or not, but Krion would surely tell him to use his current feelings as a catalyst not to do foolish things in the future, now he had responsibilities, heavier responsibilities than as a foolish, wet behind the ears rookie trainee.

The concept of responsibilities brought him around to the person that was most affected by his promotion today. Silvana Al'Cair. Krion's baby sister. Braden and she had been seeing each other on and off for awhile, but neither knew where the relationship was going. In a way, that was Braden's own fault. He knew, if she didn't, that once he was raised to the next level, if he wanted to keep her in his life, he would have to swear to her, on his honor, never to be bonded to an Aes Sedai, be borrwed help only.

He groaned, laying on the bed, flat on his back, his hands up over his face, covering the ceiling, and keeping him from seeing too deeply into the future. He decidedly did not want to think about the future. He had come to the Tower to become a warder, that meant that an Aes Sedai, a powerful motivated woman would create a bond with him that would be there all their lives long, that would drive them to protect each other, sometimes such a bond became as close as, if not closer than, marriage.

He understood Silvana's fear to get to close to a man bonded in such a way, thus he was torn. He loved her, really loved her for herself, and part of him, the part of him that saw how his parents were still going strong after almost twenty five years of marriage, wanted that kind of love, that kind of mutual strength and support that Marcus and Lucia Vitan shared.

The other part of him, the part that loved to be at the archery range with Krion, pretending to take out trollocs and all other manner of shadowspawn, making the one world safer for commoner and Aes sedai alike, wanted more than anything in the world to be the protector, the bonded warder to fight evil in all its many forms.

He sighed loudly, sitting up on his elbows and coming out of his reverie. That is not a decision that I need to make today, he thought to himself. He stood up and walked to the basin in the corner, poured a bucket of cool water into the sink and rinsed his face and hands. It was time to take his place among his peer, he had earned that much, and tomorrow would take care of itself.

With his backpack and his quiver slung over his shoulder, Braden looked back one last time at the room, and then turned around, walking across the practice field, feeling the light breeze ruffle his dark brown hair, Braden Vitan approached the Manshima Barracks, and the next stage of his life.