Netland Towers Library: Cracks

Cracks
by Madienne Serafina

All it took was one table, two chairs, one leather-bound copy of some ancient text. Two Accepted.

Madienne sat facing Fahima, the offending book nestled between them. It was rare for the Cairhienin to dislike anybody so much as she disliked Fahima. But there she was, acting as petty a a young child because she needed the book for her report, and Fahima wanted it to... Light, she didn't know. There was no pictures of dashing Warders in a book about Murandian Law. Madienne kept her frown in check as she moved the book back in front of her, giving the taller Accepted a level look. She had no hopes for any Ajah with any passion for reading. The fool wanted to be a Green. She wanted ten Warders. She wanted to dance about the Blight making a difference and making the Tower proud . As it was, the woman was making the place cringe at the moment. Noble-borns like her always disliked manual labour, and that was what she had received at Tarwin's Gap. Oh, how Madienne had laughed! She had learned to Heal, and Delve, and take care of people in the Infirmary whilst the chit was cleaning a Green's clothes.

You are foolish. Fahima's words were quiet, but they cut the air neatly like a power-forged weapon would. Sitting here, with your books.

Madienne did not answer. Not straight away. She was hard to rile, slow to anger, nearly impossible to wear out with idiocy. She resumed her studies with her usual complacent attitude.

Did you not hear me? Fahima's slender hand tugged the book back. Madienne looked up, tucking her stray hair behind her ear. You are wasting your time.

Then I shall waste it elsewhere. Madienne replied, getting to her feet. Enjoy your reading. She could read something else, it didn't matter to her. Not really.

***

Back again? Do you not have somewhere better to be? Fahima's contemptuous smirk followed Madienne as she fetched the book, and sat back down. Honestly. When the Fades attack, where will you be? Here with your scrawny head buried in a book.

***

Fahima had the book out for her, this time. I know you love your reading. You are a wet rag like that.

***

Will you ever finish that book? You read so slowly. So, so slowly.

What's your words-per-minute? Madienne glared at the addle-brained idiot. Of course, she gaped in return like the goldfish she really was. What's your favourite book? What's your problem? How in the Light did you get through your arches? Were you too swill-brained to realise they were your fears, and carried on in your usual sniping way? I thought you Domani were supposed to be less talk and more touch.

Nobody insulted her reading speed.

Madienne always regretted her outbursts of temper. It happened so rarely that when it did she took herself by surprise. Defiance gave her ways to justify herself. Fahima was a stuck-up, conceited bastard child. Fahima had plagued her for weeks in the Library, and she had been nothing but polite. There was always somebody out to get her, be it an Aes Sedai or another Accepted. Or even a Novice, when they dared. No, not even the Novices cared to show respect for her. She was too kind like that. She let people do what they liked in her lessons, they said. She didn't mind if they didn't do their reading, others said. She didn't know how to smile, they all said.

Right then that would appear true. Madienne ran her index finger along the shelf of books she was observing, grimacing at the dust. This part of the Library was rarely used, but even so. Dust. Someone would have to find a Novice to sort it. She returned to her browsing, forgetting the dust. These books were in one of the private chambers, one of the only ones open to Accepted. As far as she was aware, she was alone in there, with a table to herself looking out at the setting sun.

She was not alone. A shield, when she was distracted. A bit of tussling. A friend there to witness Fahima's attack on Madienne, cruel weaves of ice and vindictive weaves of fire. They hurt more than the slaps, or the scratches. Such misuse of the Power! All she could do was curl into the end of the aisle, against the stone wall, waiting for her to finish and leave her alone. That was when the books flew, and the feet kicked. Tears to dissuade the attacker went unnoticed, or perhaps they only encouraged her. It felt too long after the first strike when Fahima smirked Let us go, Daigin. Leave the mouse to her scraps. The shield was left to unravel in moments. The Accepted was left to choke on her misery.

***

A new dress to replace the burnt one, stuffed in the back of her cupboard. A moment of experimenting with the scissors, and the singed hair was gone with hardly any difference. The black eye, and the bruises, they remained. Was it a fall into a corner? An accident in a lesson? Falling down some stairs would do. She was not bound by the oaths, but pride did restrain her from seeking Healing.

She was fooling nobody. They knew. They knew, and whether they agreed or not, they judged her. Madienne, the quiet one, who let herself get beaten up. A pushover. How much harder it was to make a class listen, when they only saw the black eye.

Why should we listen? You can't tell us what to do.

I am an Accepted! You should respect your seniors! She thought. But where were the words? Where were they? They were choked in her throat, bringing tears to her eyes. The indignant Novices saw the reddening face, the flustered wiping of eyes. The same indignant Novices grew red, too, with laughter.

***

Eating was the worst. The snickers, the hushed whispers, Madienne could usually ignore them. But it was as if Fahima had cracked open her reserve, her inner calm, and made everything more personal. She could hardly get a bite to eat without glowing crimson. Soon she gave up bothering to eat, dipping into the Serafina funds to get food from Tar Valon when she could. She was busy, but it was better than nothing when she went. She learned to ignore the hunger, and kept herself in her room with her reading.

But it was not enough.

This is nonsense. Ralyse Sedai ripped her report in front of her, and left her to pick up the pieces.

Your Novices are not learning anything. I have reassigned them. The Mistress of Novices intoned.

Your personal studying is shallow at best. You know as much as the average Novice on the nuances of Saidar and Saidin. The White judged, her voice steady.

The Inn was safe. She was in public, and she helped Noj to read. But did he know, as well? Madienne was afraid to find out. Soon she avoided the Inn as well. No need for both Towers to mock her failings.

What would Ameline do? The Saldaean challenged anything thrown at her, and prospered because of it. She took problems on the chin and dealt with them. Madienne avoided her, too, ashamed of herself for being more complacent, more of a disgrace in a banded dress.

Had things continued that way, depression would have evolved from a settling of dust to a moth-eaten coat buttoned from neck to knees. But even Madienne, in a tinted blue haze, knew she had to take control. She was practical, if not aggressive. A Yellow would not understand. The Mistress of Novices was enough of a failure as it was. Light, she was alone in this. Even Sephann would not understand, with her cool logic. Madienne knew she had to rely on her instincts, and hope for the best. Something she could not be helped with.

She had not seen Fahima directly since the incident some months before, the bruises long faded. There was but one left. This one, she needed the offending article for the antidote. Her confidence, her self esteem. Madienne just wanted to be Madienne again, and she thought of how to do it. It was a strange departure from reason and always doing right by people, but this wound needed maggots to heal it and they were in plentiful sadistic supply. No longer dormant, they burst from their pocket with vigour.

I was never very good at standing up for myself. Madienne mused, not reading the book in front of her. Her dark eyes rolled to her window, to the cloudy sky. They hung heavy; she could relate to them all too well. Sara was not as bad, but I still ended up being bossed around. What had changed at the White Tower? I have. I can sort this. She clutched at the infestation.

***

With renewed determination, Madienne picked her shuffling feet up. Fahima was around. Her lurking was so blatant, it was any wonder she did not just stand in front of her and wave whilst holding the power. She took a thrill from seeing her down. Perhaps it was her renewed refusal to yield which had her back to her usual ways. Fahima was a fan of pranks. Ice down the back of her dress during dinner, a subtle leg stuck out in the Library, that sort of thing. The rumours, too. Rumours spread like fire over dry grass in midsummer. Was it true that Madienne hated men? Was it true she was attracted to That Green With The Baby? The White she spent so much time with? Ameline?

Words. Useless words, dissolving before they could hurt her. Most of them, anyway.

I heard she doesn't like small spaces.

***

Fahima.

The taller girl turned to face her. Beautiful, she was, with an enjoyable bosom and seductive lips. Out watching the Warders, she was, as were many of the giddy Green aspirants. Kaese proved to be quite popular, though they rarely knew his name. Madienne never divulged that information, either. It was for her alone.

What do you want, child? Fahima asked.

I would like a moment of your time, if you would walk with me.

A look to her friends, then a smirk and a shrug. Fine.

Madienne set off at a steady pace, towards the kitchens. It was the early evening, and the Novices were busy scrubbing in the kitchens.

What is it? I have things to do.

As do I Madienne murmured, her expression neutral.

They entered the kitchens. Madienne led Fahima to one of the large sinks, filled to the brim with what was once clean water for rinsing dishes. Now it was cold, and greasy. The adrenalin, the revenge and the downright satisfaction made slamming her insufferable head under the water much easier.

Dragging her out by her hair after counting to ten, Madienne had a shield around her, and her arms and legs strapped together with flows of Air.

You disgusting goat-kissing pile of dung! I'm going to-

Don't make me gag your mouth. Madienne cut through Fahima, and the silent kitchen. Novices looked on, but mercifully the Mistress of the Kitchens was absent. Madienne gagged her anyway. Now tell me. Another dunk in the water. What is your words-per-minute? Indignant shakes of her head. I said, what is your reading speed, you stupid girl. Next question. A dunk in the water. Your favourite book! What's that? You can't read? Light, how silly of me to not realise. Fahima's glowering only spurred her on. She didn't dunk her back in the water. Instead she let go, and Fahima could stand there or fall over. Her choice.

When the Fades do attack Madienne said slowly. Where will you be? The gag of Air she dissolved, but Fahima did not speak. For once. You will be gawking at the Warders. Or you will be out the Tower, having failed in your test for the Shawl. If you were to be tested tomorrow, you would probably forget the first weave as soon as a man with pretty eyes walked past.

Fahima opened her mouth; Madienne held up a finger. She let the Air around her limbs loose, but she kept the shield tied. Leave.

***

A small office in the Library held a particular Brown. Madienne sought her out, the dirty water hardly dry on her dress when she knocked on the door. She entered promptly, spreading her skirts into a curtsy. Ralyse Sedai. I am here for my deserved punishment. The Brown did not look surprised, she was too controlled for that. But there had been no summons, not from her. It came from the dirty water. Madienne's reflection had danced and rippled, gleeful at her potential for evil.