The thick white woolens were not doing their job. Even buried deep beneath her heaviest blanket, Lilliah could feel her toes ache with the cold however she tucked them beneath herself. Nights in Tar Valon were growing colder and darker with each passing week and it would be a long time before bare feet could touch the stony tile floors without icicles racing through the whole body. Unfortunately those cold nights were the only time novices had to their own freedoms. Most of the girls would already be dreaming deeply though it was not yet and hour past Last, a wise choice looking ahead to the burdens of the next day. Not that tomorrow would be any more arduous than today, days were mostly the same for the Tower's lowest rank, but a sharp wit was necessary for study and most easily maintained by a solid night's sleep.

Lilliah instead took the advantage of an extra hour of solitude to pour over a new favorite from the library. As much as she balked at the endless mornings and afternoons choking on the dust of tomes that looked as if they had not been touched since the founding of the Tower, being assigned there gave her the chance to gain a favorable ear in a Brown sister or two. She was thirsty for books that told of empires and nations whether mighty or weak. Most people thought that the largest wealth of knowledge could be learned from emulating those who had succeeded before, but in her studies the diligent novice had seen far more value in the understanding and avoidance of the mistakes of the failures. Of course, the White Tower was closemouthed on the matter of any negative occurrences among Aes Sedai. This restriction made it difficult at best for the young woman to access any information regarding the mistakes of her predecessors. So, the quiet young girl made a study of those she could and avoided seeking out what her betters had hidden. She was not Aes Sedai yet, no, a long way off to be sure, but that she would be one day was a fact she was confident she had the right of. Until then she studied as she could how to use the One Power and how to use the power that came along with the title and shawl.

The book open on her lap, nestled in the folds of tan wool that engulfed the tall slim girl. The leather-bound text was Edolien Sarfan's, [b] Animosities and Atrocities of the Southern Countries[/b]. A weighty topic at best, dating to a time before Illian and Tear were named such and even the countries before them were newly founded. But it illustrated the maneuverings and conspiracies that resulted from the ancient disputes between the two lands as well as the men and women who had made it so. Yes, weighty for a novice to be sure, but Lilliah could not put it or any other like it down until she had absorbed every nuance of history from it. There were roughly fifty pages of this one to go before she would return it to the shelves. That would not happen tonight though. Tonight she was distracted and found herself gazing blankly at the glazed pitcher and basin on the table next to the door.

Aimless thoughts wandered through her mind from the slightly stunned realization that the thick porcelain objects actually matched to whether there would be sticky buns with breakfast in the morning. [i]Just one sticky bun would no be much, would it?[/I]she wondered as she pinched at her hip with a frown. A silly thought that, and she could remember a time when she had scorned the pastries as frivolous indulgences. Sassa had shown her differently. Her fiercest and truest friend in the Tower, though she had not always seen her so, Sassa had a liking for sweets that had largely contributed to her round figure, a feature the jolly girl was quick to laugh about and even claim she prized. The two girls spent many nights both laughing and weeping since Lilliah had arrived almost four years ago, the chubby Cairheinin had already been a novice three years by then though they were of an age. [i]Four years in white,[/i] she mused, reflecting on the day they had taken her beautifully embroidered silks and replaced them with the only color she had worn since.

Before coming to the Tower Lilliah had led a more than privileged life. She never lacked for comfort and ease and while she would no longer trade this path for any other there were things she missed from day to day; her plush feather bed and brocaded slippers. Riding Chestnut all day with her cousins in the country and long lazy afternoons wading in the open bay. But more than the warm nights of Illian, more than the freedom of the palace, more than the countless servants waiting to do her bidding, more than all that Lilliah missed silk.

~*~*~*~

[i] "Lilliah do put on your dress. They will have already moved into the Grand Hall and you two must go before I." Her voice was that of sorrowful music the kind a harpist could not hope to duplicate had he strings of gold and a case of ivory. Nothing sounded sweeter, nothing sounded more grim. Though she longed to stay just moments more and watch how the maids heat irons that would make the beautiful young woman's dark hair curl, tiny Lilliah stood on her toes to plant a kiss on a soft olive cheek before running from this room to the next. The raven haired girl had been quiet most of the evening and gave off an air of bleakness that made the child heed her with alacrity.

Marea was already dressed and walked the length of the room and back again as Lilliah stood watching from the open doorway. Two maids kept pace and tried to ready their lady as her silvery slippers scuffed a path in the scroll-worked carpeting and her hands batted away their efforts. One caught sight of the little one in the entrance and broke off toward the wardrobe coming back with a dress of blue, bright enough to rival the clear summer sky; hem and scooped collar bordered in small creamy pearls. Lilliah squealed in delight and reached out to stroke the soft silk, brand new for this evening's name day celebration. She let the bony woman help her into the garment and, careful not to trip over the long folds, made her way to the stand mirror. The girl of just nine years beamed at her reflection and the glow the bright silk leant to her darkly tanned skin. Deft fingers caught her wavy, honey hued locks into a net, pearled to match the dress precisely. She felt a queen.

A sob penetrated the quiet business of the dressing room, followed by the sharp slamming of the door Lilliah had passed through just minutes before. Marea halted in her circuit and looked with deadened eyes at the heavy maple barrier that muffled the sound of pained whimpering. The young Lilliah searched the faces of the women in the room for an explanation that she was lacking. An air of heavy sadness and anticipation hung in the room. Servants still primped their charges at the same hurried pace but there was a resigned mournfulness in their movements. The quiet child knew that something had happened, something was wrong, and no one was going to tell her.

Soon the door opened again. The alluring young woman emerged, composed and poised if noticeably devoid of cheer. Crystals glittered, nestling in the spirals of her tresses and the emeralds that circled her slender neck complimented the silk of her gown, so dark a green it could be said to be black. She did not speak. No one spoke. They all walked to the soft swishing cadence of silk and at the top of the stairs Lilliah felt Marea link arms with her before they descended to the trumpeting of their titles into the waiting sea of nobility. She curtsied and smiled as she was moved through the crowd by the ebb and flow of mingling adults. Trumpets pealed again and flourishes of a lone drum punctuated their cries.

"Announcing her honored presence, the Lady Devonny Del'Darwae."

The music rose and a somber Devonny glided down the stairwell. Her cheeks had lost their color, her hands held tightly to her skirts as she lifted them over her toes and though her eyes showed none of the puffiness of her earlier tears they glistened on the brink of a new flood. Lilliah longed to go to her, to hold her hand and speak words of comfort such as a child had but the young woman was swallowed by the masses. The small girl could see the forced smiles and nods of the older. An incline of the head and offering of a hand to be kissed but not a spoken word as if parting her lips would loose the torrents of grief she held back.

There was another in the room whose lips were sealed as tightly. Lithe and muscular the young Lord of House Marcanos leaned against a pillar his arms folded across his chest. He looked a feral dog backed into a corner a like to snap his jaws around the first to speak to him. Lilliah all but ran the gauntlet of the hall to his side slowing as she approached. She had no fear of him who was like a brother to her and she leaned insistently on his elbow until he dropped a hand for her to take. The child had no need to follow his mournful gaze to know that it swept the room, trailing after black-green skirts. Always before he was quick with a smile and a pat on the head for the little one who tagged along after her cousins, now he emanated anguish and anger and hopelessness. After a time Ilan's grip tightened around hers and she did look up. He held Devonny's eyes and looked ready to cut his way clear to her scooping her up to ride into the sinset of a gleeman's tale. Lilliah knew he would have but for Devonny's hand, raised to stay him. Heartbreak etched lines in both young faces. The dark haired girl turned her back and Ilan slumped back against the column. Lilliah held to his hand all the more fiercely. They did not speak. Not to each other. Not to the young woman they both loved. Not ever again.[/i]

~*~*~*~

Abruptly her door crashed open with a resounding thud against the wall and a nasty draft blustered in through the gaping entrance to the hall. Just as suddenly a bundle of white scurried in and flipped off her hood appearing as if Lilliah's earlier thoughts had beckoned her. "The way Astra Sedai frowned when she gave it to me I did not think it could wait until morning!" Sassa chimed in a voice that was laughably dulcet for such a plump lamb of a girl and in her present state she closely resembled a sheep at that; nose and cheeks pink from the cold and looking ever more round for her layers of white, even the ringlets that fell about her shoulders minded her quite opposite friend of the wooly farm animal. The Illianer did not realize that she had leapt from her bed until she felt herself slumping back down onto it. She stared at the other girl with a look of puzzlement, trying to make ups and downs of what Sassa had babbled. "Lumpy, do close the door before I do catch my death. You will yet be my cause of death will you no?" Despite the harsh words she meant them affectionately even the pet name she had adopted for the girl. "Sit and speak straight before I go mad from your prattling."

The short round girl shed her cloak and kicked off her slippers before hopping into the space on the bed Lilliah had made for her. Then the Cairheinin novice arranged her skirts over her folded knees before pulling the blanket up to her chin and beginning with a deep breath. "I was shelving in the library today, after lunch while you were in Anatomy of Shadow Spawn, and Astra Sedai was asking for you. I said I would find you for her but she just gave me a letter to bring to you. Well, Ardine said you were most like lolling in the training yard oogling you-know-who so I went and told her to stuff a prickle bear under her skirt and that Accepted who gave you the jar of blackberry jam last Bel Tine, the one who speaks like you, she heard me and told me off to scrub the lavatory on the first floor until I remembered how one initiate should speak to another. That Ardine needs to be brought down a peg or two, you and Ilyana should arrange something. In any case I only just finished and I know it is past Last but as I said Astra Sedai did not seem pleased with whatever is in the letter and I thought you should have it tonight."

Lilliah sat staring. Sassa liked to talk more than she did and would do so for hours if you let her. The slim girl placed one hand on the chubby knee next to her as the curly haired novice ran out of breath and the other hand on her head running through the tirade again to fetch out the important details. "The letter, Lumpy, where do it be?" For a moment a confused expression crossed the girl's face then with a jolt she sat up straight and reached behind her back to retrieve the parchment that had been slid behind her thick white belt. Thick fingers held it gently as if it would crumble in a harder grasp, as if it had not just spent the better part of the afternoon being strapped to the small of her back.

The thick creamy paper was indeed a bit rumpled but not beyond telling it was of the highest quality. There was a seal, broken neatly, of a gull on a cresting wave and scrawling lines addressed to the Lady Devonny Del'Darwae care of the White Tower. The sight of the name was disturbing, more so than the broken seal, novices were not privileged the luxury of complete privacy and indeed this letter was not hers. The fact that it was in the care of the Tower gave any sister the right to open it, unless of course Devonny were Aes Sedai herself. Even then it was not certain that only her eyes would see it. Lilliah tucked away those subtle facts and nuances into her memory for later. The letter consumed her now. With numb fingers she pushed back the fold and read with growing sadness in her eyes.

To the Lady Devonny of House Del'Darwae in Illian and initiate of the With Tower,

< >< >It is with utmost regret and sorrow I write to you of the death of your father the Late Lord Deagan High Seat of Del'Darwae. With this most regrettable news I also send the summons that you return to Illian to claim your place as heir and High Seat to the House. Matters are dire and your urgent return is necessary to ensure the well being and safety of the House. Words cannot express my most heartfelt condolences and wishes for your safe homecoming.

Regretfully,
Armen Panolos
First Steward of House Del'Darwae

Numbness took hold of the young girl and the letter fell as a feather to rest on the blanket. Lilliah stared absently. Her uncle was dead, and with it a sharp reminder that his daughter was not to be found. Devonny, his heir, either perished here never again to be spoken of in these halls or was closeted by the Tower in much the same mystery. Four years of brush-offs and warning glances told her that she was walking blindfolded across thin ice and no one would pull her from the frigid waters if she should plunge, tripped by her unrelenting inquiries. Her sweet cousin was not listed with the runaways or the casualties of training. The only scrap Lilliah had found in her searching was an older Accepted who recognized the accent and remembered a tall girl with dark wavy hair who spoke as the curious novice did. But even she was vague and cautious with her answers never confirming a name to her memories. And still it was as if the novice Devonny had never arrived in the Tower.

Lilliah sat numb, no actions to take to sooth her loss, no one to question for the answers she sought since the day her name was written in the novice book. The letter had come to her hands because Astra had felt she should be told of the passing of the good man who had raised her in privilege and comfort, but she saw the possibility that there was more than kindness to the sister's action. The letter summoned a woman whose presence the White Tower did not acknowledge or openly deny. Perhaps this tragedy would bring about the miraculous appearance of a girl the Tower could use as a link to the nobles of Illian. Perhaps Devonny was gone never to return and they would use Lilliah in her place. Perhaps the overwrought and over-ambitious novice was jumping at shadows and grasping to hopes. The letter had cut her raw and frazzled her wits beyond usefulness for the rest of the night and longer. A muted sound reached her ears, a buzz that grew to resemble speech and she lifted her heavy head on a neck that seemed to creak with the effort.

"Best if you cry now and get it done, Twig, you will sleep then." Sassa held the letter again in her hand, she had read the terrible news it carried; the girls had no secrets between them. The gentle words moved into her and she nodded, but the tears only began to flow in rivulets down her cheeks when Sassa places a soft hand on her cheek. Lilliah collapsed against her friend and lay sobbing four years of tears into thick white skirts. She sobbed away all the memories of all day rides into the country with her cousins and a stern Lord that admonished them not to wander so close to the river bank. She wept for every name day the gruff man made sure she had presents of silk and perfumes and a ball with her friends. For the hours the girls spent carefully dressing her and laughing at her side. Tears that fell from her chin for the love of a man that had lost two daughters and gave the child he had raised as one to a future of her choice though it sent her down the same dangerous path. Lilliah cried herself dry to Sassa's humming of a soft Cairheinin lullaby and felt through the weight of her sorrow a glimmer of resolve. [i]Tomorrow[/I] she thought and no more than that. She knew that the next morning would be the first of many on the path that had become blindlingly clear to her.

Find answers, find Devonny.