Name:: Rahien Ayendes
Age:: 21 upon arrival in the Tower, currently 22
Gender:: Female
Nationality:: Saldean
Social class:: Scholar

One Power scores

Current strength: 33
Base strength: 33
Age when started to channel: 21
Current Age: 22 (but no full year has passed since starting to channel so no extra point awarded on base strength yet)

Flow Affinity
Water: 9
Air:7
Earth:4
Fire:2
Spirit:7

Appearance before Healing::

Appearance after Healing::

Build :: Short and slender, yet plenty of curves in all the right places. At first glance she gives a fragile and vulnerable impression to those that miss the strength that lies in her eyes.
Eye colour:: Intens green, almost catlike.

Personality:
Upon arrival in the Tower, Rahien is very frightened and still very uncomfortable with her appearance. It is very dificult for her to swallow her pride again and again and her reaction could range from extremely shy and embarassed to very angry and gruff to hide her embarassement. She will most likely endeavour to keep people at a distance, making herself cold and un-approachable, when really she is just a very lonely person, but it will take someone with a lot of patience and perseverance to break through the wall around her.

Special traits and Talents:
Rahien has no Talents, but the trauma she has taken to her head causes her to "see" things from the past. Sometimes she will have moments where the veil between what was and what is, is lifted and she catches a glimpse of how things used to be. For now, these experiences are unsettling and scary, as she has not come to understand their meaning and is afraid she is just losing her mind.
(This was discussed and admin approved before posting it in my bio)


History and background::
The early years::
Rahien was the only daughter of Darane Ayendes, a minor noble woman from Saldea. She never knew her father, past the fact that he had not been Saldean, a fact that was easy to see for anyone that lay eyes on Rahien. Her mother was an avid scholar and craved knowledge the way other people crave wealth or fame. From as early as she could remember, Rahien travelled the world with her mother, always in search of books that had not been explored yet and artefacts that might yield some new knowledge if studied by Darane personally.
Whenever Rahien would enquire about her father, her mother would give her a hurt look that said “Am I not enough for you?” and Rahien learned soon enough that it was no use trying to pry any information from her. She learned to read and write as soon as her mother thought she could get away with teaching her and Rahien spend many a day in some stuffy library in some distant corner of the world, copying manuscripts and ancient texts. Her mother was particularly interested in anything that dated back to the Age of Legends and would travel miles just on a scrap of hearsay or indication that some information might be found. Rahien grew up with as much freedom as she could possible want, as her mother was generally not around or too absorbed in some book or other to pay much attention to her daughter, past her daily lessons. Rahien had a carefree childhood and when she grew older, she started to find distraction in spending her mother’s money on expensive gowns and the latest hairdo’s. Rahien liked what she saw in the mirror and would spend hours in front of it, trying on this dress or that and practising batting her long dark lashes just so. Her mother was oblivious to the fact that her daughter was blossoming into a beautiful young woman even if the men around them were not. Rahien suddenly found she was getting more attention than she had ever had in her life and she loved every second of it. Starved for her mother’s affection, she found an adequate substitute in these flirtations. She gradually changed from a bright and spirited child into a vain and petulant young woman, who loved her own image more than anything. If her mother noticed, she never said anything, though the gap between them grew wider and wider as Rahien grew older. If she wasn’t busy priming and preening, Rahien loved to practice the old art of the Language and combat of the Fans, something that had come back into fashion amongst the jet set of the Saldean court. Young girls battling each other with fans for the amusement of the nobles was a popular sport and Rahien loved the chance of showing of her skill and her beauty.

The turning point::
Then one day her mother got wind of some artefact that was rumoured to be located somewhere in the Aiel waste and Rahien’s young life fell to pieces around her. She begged and pleaded with her mother to leave her behind in Saldea, she was old enough to look after herself after all, but Darane would have none of it. Spending nearly their whole fortune, she got together a small caravan and bundled Rahien up with a few meagre belongings for a long trip into the desert. Rahien hated every second of it and if relations had been tense with her mother before, they became almost hostile now. The horse and wagon handlers had little patience with a petulant debutante whose main concern was getting her hair messed up and they treated her with contempt. After weeks of travel and various bad experiences with a score of so called “guides” they finally reached an Aiel settlement and Rahien was introduced to the Aiel for the first time in her life.

If she had felt the contempt of the wagon and horse handlers, it was nothing compared to cold fury she was met by from the Aiel. She learned quickly that these people lived by a strict code of honour that made even the harsh Saldean culture seem weak and feeble. Time and time again was she shamed and made to realise how childish her behaviour was and she quickly learned that her charm and beauty meant nothing to these people. Status or wealth meant nothing without having earned a measure of respect for personal accomplishments. For the first time in her life, Rahien was made to yield to discipline and revelled in it. It became her personal challenge do anything to gain respect in the eyes of these people that she admired so greatly, but no matter how hard she tried, they were, at best, amused at her efforts. It did not matter that she could outride any in the camp, for Aiel did not ride horses and attributed no honour to being able to do so. In her own country she was among the best in fan-combat, but here she was barely more than a child playing with knives. Even young children among the Aiel easily beat her and put her to shame time and time again if she dared issue a challenge. Rather than being put off, Rahien resolved to beat the Aiel at their own game and sought ever more outrageous ways of showing that she was not a soft Wetlander. Over the course of months, her mother had managed to win the trust of the clan they were staying with and her suspicions were confirmed when she was told of the location of the artefact inside Rhuidean. The knowledge of this prized treasure so close at hand with her not being allowed to enter Rhuidean, slowly drove Darane mad until one day she broke under the pressure and broke her oath to never reveal the location or enter Rhuidean and snuck in under the cover of the night. When her treason was discovered, a search party was sent out and Rahien refused to stay back. She understood the implications of her mother’s actions and she was filled with fear for her. The wise one’s wrath was a terrible thing to behold as they decided her mother would be buried into a cave alive until she took what she had learned with her into her grave. The sentence was carried out swiftly but at the last moment Rahien could not bear to see her mother killed this way and threw herself into the avalanche of rocks brought down by the Wise One’s channelling. Most of her bones, as well as her face were crushed as the rocks came tumbling down and during the brief moment of excruciating pain right before unconsciousness took her, Rahien saw a multitude of worlds and images flash before her mind’s eye.

“Her breathing is much better these last few days. I think she might actually pull through.” There was a brief snort before the first voice continued in a defiant tone: “I told you she was stronger than most Wetlanders.” There was another snort and a second voice retorted: “She is alive by the grace of our Healing and nothing else. Don’t make me think you have gone soft yourself, Terana.” Rahien felt herself slip back into oblivion and struggled to focus on the voices. Every fibre in her body seemed to scream out in agony and Rahien moaned softly, tears leaking down her cheeks. “Ha! Look! She is waking up, did I not tell you?” There was triumph in the voice, a sympathy Rahien found hard to share. The pain in her body just made her want to die, but the blessed unconsciousness she had been fighting against just seconds before, seemed to elude her now. Rough hands wiped the hair from her face, before continuing to wipe her face with a cool cloth with surprising gentleness. “Open your eyes child and have some of this water. You must drink.” Rahien felt like even breathing was more of a struggle than she had ever had to do for anything and when she did finally manage to open her eyes, her breath came in laboured gasps. She somehow managed to gulp down a few sips of water through lips that were cracked with dehydration and that felt somehow alien to her. Soon after she felt herself slip back in that blackness that had been her home for so long it seemed. “It seems you were right after all, Terana, but I doubt she will be thankful to be alive.” Rahien struggled to make sense of the words, but unconsciousness was drawing her back in with the lure of a lover’s warm embrace. “Time will tell. But at least now she can choose her own honour.” “Pah! Wetlanders have no honour!”

During the next weeks of slow recovery, Rahien found herself torn between wanting to die and the urge to live more often than she could remember.
But then came the day that she was actually able to sit up without passing from the pain and she nearly cried with relief. She looked up at the grim faces she had come to know even better since she had been confined to the small tent and managed a weak grin.
The smile was not returned and Rahien noticed the Wise One’s exchanged a few looks before one of them stepped forward and cleared her throat.

“Now that you are strong enough, we have gathered here to present you with a choice.” Rahien blinked, trying to clear the fogginess in her mind. “I still say we should have left her buried under those rocks to suffer the same fate as her mother.” The angry mutter came from Tamenda, a fierce black-haired beauty and even though she fell silent under Badora’s hard look, she met Rahien’s eyes with defiance. “We know Wetlanders know nothing of ji’e’toh, nor would you ever be able to comprehend its true meaning, but you must know enough to know that your mother has committed a grave dishonour, one that is passed down over generations until the toh has been met.” Badora’s cool blue eyes fixed her until she was sure the impact of the words had sunk in. Rahien blinked back tears, her mother’s death still fresh like a raw wound. Even though she had been among the Aiel long enough to know they would rather die than loose honour in such a way, they had not known her mother like she did. Rahien understood how much the knowledge had meant to her. It had meant enough to her to be prepared to die for it. Her chin lifted slightly in silent defiance. She was prepared to carry the price of her mother’s choice and cleanse their families honour, even though she was under no obligation to do so. She had been far from the perfect daughter and if she could atone for that in some small way by clearing her mother’s debt, than she would gladly do so. “What choice do you offer me?” Rahien was surprised at the roughness of her voice, it sounded almost alien to her ears. She gingerly touched her throat, unnerved by how strange it felt to her touch.

“We offer you the chance to clear your families toh, even though you are not one of us.” From Badora’s tone of voice, it was clear she was of the opinion that a great honour was being bestowed upon Rahien. “You can refuse and leave our lands immediately and you and yours will forever be banned from any Aiel lands, upon penalty of death, even though you will be free to go and return to your own lands.” Rahien nodded, waiting silently for the other option. Something in their eyes made her think she would not like the second option one bit even though their expressions were as unreadable as stone. Salandra, the youngest of the Wise Ones stepped forward then and handed her a mirror. Rahien accepted it with apprehension and held it face down in her lap as she scanned their faces for some clue of what was going on. For weeks she had been asking for a mirror, her eyes wanting to see the things her fingers felt for herself, but she had been refused over and over again. They were obviously waiting for her to look and so she took a deep breath and raised the mirror to her face. Whatever she had been preparing herself for, it was nothing like what she saw. For a brief moment her mind refused to accept the face that stared back from the glass as her own, but then reality came crushing down as the rocks had crashed down on her body. There was nothing in her face she recognised, apart from her eyes. The rest of her face looked like some sculptor had taken a piece of clay and had beaten the crap out of it before kneading it back in a vague semblance of a human face and sticking it back on her body. The full impact of the punishment that had lain upon her dawned in the back of Rahien’s mind then. “Most of us voted to let you die, but others thought you should not be let off so easily.” Rahien traced her face with trembling fingers, unknown bumps and bruises passing under her fingers. “Instead we decided to let you live and heal you, but only enough so your body would keep going.” Tears streamed down her face and Rahien felt like howling. They knew her so well, knew how high the price of her pride and vanity was. She had prepared herself for a physical challenge, but to be faced with something so cruel and devastating was almost beyond what she could bear. Did they have no compassion at all? She had just lost everything, lost the only family she had ever known without the luxury of being able to grief or mourn over her and now they expected her to return to Saldea looking like this? She would be the laughing stock of everyone! Or even worse: They would receive her with pity! Rahien silently shook her head. It was too much. They could not expect her to give up that last shred of dignity she had left. She looked up at them with a pleading look. Some of them looked away in disgust and Rahien then realised they fully expected her to fail the challenge. Her jaw clenched as anger welled up inside of her. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her beg to be restored to what she had once been. “What are your conditions?” Rahien felt a small pang of satisfaction at the merest flicker of surprise that passed among them then. “You will return to your people as soon as you are fit to travel. We will weave a web over you, so you cannot be healed without being killed in the process, in case you were of a mind to deceive us and find a Channeler.” The thought had not crossed her mind, but if she had any hopes in that regard, they were now truly shattered. “Furthermore, you will travel to Tar Valon and enter in the service of the Aes Sedai.” Rahien felt the blood drain from her face. Her mother had tried to gain access to the fabled library of the White Tower on numerous occasions and had failed every time. “And if they do not accept me?” Rahien could not fathom why they would.

A secret smile passed over Badora’s face for a split second. “Oh they will accept you alright, have no worry”, she said wryly. At a look from Badora, they all made ready to leave her then. “You have until the morrow to accept our terms or leave.” Rahien sat in silence, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she had done so many times before in the past. “Wait.” Her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, but the Wise Ones turned and waited expectantly. “I accept your terms.” Rahien hung her head in defeat. She had nothing else to live for; she might as well give some purpose to her life or ask them to kill her. She could not stop looking at this face of horror that stared back at her from the mirror as the tears ran freely over her cheeks. They had done something to her to make her loose all her hair as well, her naked skull looking like a badly bruised egg. “Will my hair grow back?” She hardly needed to hear the response to know it would not. “No. Not while our weave holds.” From the smug look on Tamenda’s face, she was sure it would not fade unless they wanted it. “And when will I have cleared my mother’s debt?” Badora halted with the flap of the tent in her hand, half turning to look over her shoulder. She gazed into Rahien’s eyes for the longest time and then said: “Only you can determine the depth of your honour and what it will take to meet your toh.” Rahien had the feeling then that if she returned before any of them considered her debt repaid, she would not have another chance to do so.

As soon as she was well enough to travel, the Wise Ones put her on a horse and sent her to Tar Valon, carrying a letter for the Amyrlin. Unknown to Rahien, the letter contains a warning against the protective weave that has been put on her to prevent her being Healed (something which will mean she will have to Heal of her own power if she ever takes injury while in the Tower). The letter also contains a nicely setup sheme by the Wise Ones to force the Amyrlin's hand in accepting Rahien as a novice in place of one of their own, thus releasing them from the obligation to send one of their own to be Tower trained.

And thus the story begins…..

Approved, I like it. :)

Awesome!! :D approved.