The first time is for what was. The way back will come but once, Be Steadfast.

------------

She is in a sea of faces.

They smile at her as she passes, their agreement simple. She does what she should and they love her. Blindly, implicitly, beyond hope. Her heart feels light, almost empty. It is as though she doesn’t know that she has nothing to care for, just that there is nothing there.

She is in the market. Hardly a bustling place, in her tiny Amadician town. The spring wind flits through her hair, ruffles her skirt, and she makes her way through the people.

Something catches her eye and confusion mars her pretty face. They are walking towards her, faces set in stone hard frowns and she does not know why.

“Mayrian.” They come to a stop in front of her, it is the mayor who speaks. His voice is not unkind, but she does not feel any warmth. “We need to talk to you. About the incident last week, in the square.”

A swallow and her knees feel weak. She does not know what happened, she wants to shout at them. She does not does not does not! But still they stare and still they ask and still her fingers clutch at her basket.

Across the crowd, a boy is staring at her, but she does not notice.

“Come with us, down to Master Kragan’s.”

The jail? No. This can’t be right. There are Children in the village, she had seen them. And the Children always stayed with Master Kragan! She had never felt fear of them before, but now her heart is beating quickly and she wants to run away.

Know your place. The words scream in her head and she wants them to stop and suddenly she remembers.

Be Steadfast.

The Mayor looks at her, imploringly. He loves her, they all do. They love her and they want her to do as they wish. Her heart tugs and she sees their faces in her mind, their screams as she ran, as she disappointed them. She could make it better now, could do as they wished... She did not know what The Children would do with her, but surely it couldn’t be worse than The Tower...

The Tower. Tar Valon. Novice Dresses and chores. Toby’s laughter and the smell of a boy and her hands tighten against the basket in her arms. The Tower. The Tower. The Tower.

What is there for her? This test, this trial they are putting her through, it can only be the beginning. It is so hard, so trying, so difficult and she looks to the faces of the village men and longs for the ease of Whitecloak intervention.

The Arch is beautiful, distant, almost within reach if she runs...

Be Steadfast.

Be Steadfast.

Be Steadfast.

Her fingers hurt from gripping the basket and the Mayor is looking at her sideways.

“Mayrian, please come with us.”

His hand grasps her elbow and it burns.

Be Steadfast.

She wants to go with him. Wants to make things better and go back to pleasing everyone. It was easier, so much easier... no pain, no escape, they loved her.

She swallows, he is tugging her now, gently, but with purpose.

“Mayrian, come on.”

The Tower calls to her from beyond the Arch and her heart is breaking as she runs.

Running. Running. Running. And then she is absolved.

------------

You are washed clean of what Sin you may have done, and those done against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and those committed against you. You come to use washed clean and pure, in heart and soul.

The second time is for what is. The way back will come but once, Be Steadfast.

------------

It stretches out before her and she is stunned.

The White Tower, its beautiful column in the distance, glittering in the sunlight. Idyllic, staring down at them with unrealistic beauty yet somehow her breath catches. A shudder, and Toby grips her hand.

"We should go back."

She says nothing, just stares straight ahead. The sky is blue, cloudless, and The White Tower looms before them. The wind catches her novice dress lightly, breezing around her ankles and she tightens her grip.

"You're hurting my hand." Toby says softly, making no move to extract it.

"I'm sorry." Her voice sounds foreign to her ears. Fainter somehow, as if she is hearing it whispered from far away.

"We can't just run away, Mayrian." Toby's tone is pleading in a calm way, as things always were with her. Calm and patient, eager and knowing. As if she were just a little more aware than those around her. She is not condescending, nor is she annoyed. She merely knows how things are, knows how things must be. "They will be looking for us. We've strayed too far."

Awareness flits through her then, memory and comprehension. They had not meant to go so far, had not meant to flirt with freedom. They stood there now, though, the edge so close. It would be so easy to turn, to run, to escape to another life. The Tower looms behind and she turns her head, staring out past the river, towards the world.

Toby's hand in her own, tugging her gently towards The Tower and all she wants to do is run.

Her duty, her future... she is there for a reason, she has a purpose. Her throat tightens and she looks to Toby with tears in her eyes.

"I'm scared."

"I know." Still calm. Always calm. Ever calm.

"Things there are so hard."

"You are strong."

"I don't feel like this is my place."

"It is. You are here as I am here, we will return together."

Toby tugs on her hand and they start to walk. Towards the Tower, towards their home. One of them is humming softly and all she knows is it is not her. Toby talks, thoughtless babble about their classes, their friends, words to fill the space, words to ease their minds.

A calling, and she cannot help herself. A fleeting glance gone wrong and her eyes are trained on the arch. This is not such a challenge.

“I need to go.”

Toby frowns, gripping tight to her hand. “Mayrian, you can’t.” Now she speaks with more resolve, calmness fading. “I won’t let your fear overtake you. You are stronger than this.”

She twists her hand, but Toby’s grip is strong. “I need to go, Toby.”

“No! You can’t let them win, you can’t abandon your place.”

She tears at the fingers, now circling her forearm. The pressure, the pull, taking her towards Tar Valon.

“Toby let me go.” The arch is there, in her vision, she can make it if she runs.

“May, you can’t do this! Think about what it will mean! Do you want to spend your life hiding? Do you want to know you gave up?”

“I’m not giving up.” A murmur, untruth. Her hands shake and it should be so easy to brush off Toby’s grasp but something stalls her.

“You are! It won’t be any easier to run, you can’t abandon the Tower.”

The Tower. The Tower. The Tower. The Arches. The Testing.

She shakes her arm free and runs.

“Mayrian, don’t do this!”

Freedom. Freedom. Freedom. And she breaks free.

------------

You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean , in heart and soul.

The third time is for what will be. The way back will come but once. Be Steadfast.

------------

When she opens her eyes, it is the middle of the night. Surrounded by darkness, surrounded by cold, she pulls the blankets tighter around her. She thinks she may have dreamt of The Tower, and the presence of absence in her chest is crushing her.

Years have passed since her disgrace, years since saidar has fallen out of her grasp, and still she wakes in the middle of cold nights, reaching desperately for The Source.

She tries to press the thoughts away, closing her eyes as tightly as she can, but all she can see in front of her eyes is The Tower.

Her husband lies beside her, feels her distress. A good man, a kind man, to have taken in a broken wanderer and shown her patience. He rests his hand on her shoulder, gently urging her to turn into his arms, soothing her.

The sobs come out and she presses her face against his chest, shaking.

“It has been a while since you’ve woken like this.” He is lying to her, searching for hope that someday things will be better.

She smiles weakly, rubbing the tears from her eyes and putting her best face forward. For his sake.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, May. You never need to apologize for hurting.”

He is so god to her... She swallows, sitting up in bed and pulling the blanket around her waist. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever feel better.”

He joins her, an arm around her shoulders. “I have faith that you will.” His tone is calming and he places his hand on her stomach, so slightly swollen. “Our child will help, you are going to be such a wonderful mother.”

She swallows again and everything falls to confusion. He is right, she supposes. They had tried for so long to have a child, but she had still been much too damaged. Surely it must be a sign? The Creator giving her purpose once more? Her hand joins his on her stomach and she closes her eyes, picturing their future.

She can see it. So close, yet so impossible to consider. A happy family, something she has never been a part of, but she could throw her whole self into... Her hands shake a little, and she feels how close she is to salvation, to resolution.

And then she remembers.

Be Steadfast.

No! The tears start again, and she does not know if she can overcome them. He is holding her again, whispering comfort, but all she can feel is terror. She wants to stay, wants to continue in this place where she has found the hope of happiness in the future. Back there, back at The Tower, there is no certainty. No ideals, no illusions of a happy future, however fleeting. Here she knows, she knows her pain, she knows her expectations, knows her place.

She cannot please the Aes Sedai, cannot see herself in a shawl. She sees no rings, no oaths, no place and no power... She cannot imagine her future there, and here she can. He is holding her and they will have a family and she knows what to do here, knows what is expected of her.

Be Steadfast.

She sees them all behind her eyelids, Toby and Noj and Daynir and Kieran Sedai and Ralyse Sedai and Ameline and more and more faces, more people waiting for her. Their expectations are not finite, she does not know how to please them all, if she even can. Toby with her simple smiles and Noj with his awkward confusion... Ameline’s eyes that day in the Inn, Daynir’s arm in hers and the Aes Sedai, staring with their unfathomable expectations and eyes she cannot comprehend.

Be Steadfast.

She forces her eyes open to tear the images away and The Arch is right there, in their bedroom. Her husband is holding her and she wants to desperately to bury her face in his chest and cry until it disappears.

No. No no no no.

“May, its okay. It will all be okay. We will make it okay.” He means it to be soothing but something inside her breaks. No, this is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She cannot feel saidar and her body aches for it, longs to be put back together again. His hands hold her, soothing her, anchoring her to this world, this existence.

Hands. Always hands. Always holding her, holding her in place, holding her back. Decisions taken from her by the hands of others and suddenly her decision is clear.

She screams and his hands release her. The Tower. The Tower. The Tower. A mantra through her tears and she stumbles, running as fast as she can and unable to see a thing.

She cannot do it, cannot be a slave to their hands. She cannot be held back.

Pulling. Pulling. Pulling. She pulls away.

------------

You are washed clean of Mayrian Hood, of Amadicia. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are Mayrian Hood, Accepted of the White Tower.

You are sealed to us now.

And Mayrian cries.