Naridin’s ‘laziness’ had gotten him unwanted penances since he was a little boy, and that didn’t change at all at the Tower. He had missed a class—again—and he had neglected an entire afternoon of chores. And that was all because he had gotten too engrossed in a book about the Athan Miere. One might think people grow out of that, but not Naridin. Oh no, not the lazy Aiel who had nothing to do but sleep and read most of the time. In Naridin’s mind, he was slapping his forehead and shaking his head in dismay, muttering, “What a bother.”

The Aiel soldier let out a sigh, slouching more than usual as he made his way to the Master of Soldier’s study. It was not the first time he had to go there, but this was the first time he was going there for a punishment. Marik Gaidin did not appreciate students missing his Weaponry classes. Naridin, though, was used to being punished anyway. He did not need to brace himself; Edeleas Asha’man did not seem too different from his father when it came to sternness, and Naridin was so used to his father that it became a periodical practice, getting ready for a punishment. But that did not mean he liked breaking rules. He perfectly knew how wrong it was to forget chores and miss classes—but not so much with the classes. He merely hated those classes and the forgetting was a blunder—his fault entirely. He would simply have to face the consequences, as he always had before.

As always, Naridin immediately turned the doorknob without knocking. He still hadn’t gotten used to that wetlander custom. However, he managed to remember and halt before the door was opened, leaving a very narrow slit that hardly showed anything in the room. Leaving his hand on the doorknob, he lifted his other and knocked twice before thoroughly opening the door. Now what did I forget? Ah, I was supposed to wait for an answer. Naridin let his head and torso through the door first as he glanced around the room, then walked in with an immediate salute. At least he hadn’t forgotten that part.

Luteriel was cackling like the madman that he was as the full circle of Dreadlords retreated respectfully from the chamber of the Great Lord in Shayol Ghul. Clad in black they were, these One Power altered channelers, their black hoods pulled up to hide their faces completely. The Great Lord did not exactly say it, but Edeleas caught the message perfectly, thanks to his rich background of the Game of Houses. The Great Lord was going to name his new Chosen soon. The other Dreads around him were practically brimming with smugness. Others were already bristling with hostility that a competition always came up with. Himself...Edeleas only felt cold sweat around his body when he finally understood what the Great Lord was saying. If he became Chosen, if ever, would he still be able to go back into the Light?

"The Shadow will dawn over soon." Melise was saying. The other Dreads nodded grimly at this, their pointed hoods bobbing up and down. Did the other Chosen know what the Great Lord was planning to do with them, Edeleas wondered. But he had no plans of staying. Quickly he slashed open his gateway, and across it loomed his office in Tar Valon. He stepped through and shut it behind him without so much as a second glance at the grim assembly he'd left behind.

His senses went haywire the moment his gateway shut. Turning with a snarl, Edeleas' eyes flashed as he saw the slit on his door. Someone huge was lurking behind it. His heart calmed down. No use losing your head. He reminded himself harshly. He stripped off his hood and kicked it underneath his desk. "Enter!" He said sharply. This boy was going to have... Edeleas blinked as Naridin made his way inside. "What do you want?" He snapped.

Naridin had noticed his mentor kick something under the desk and his curiosity got the better of him. His gaze flitted over the desk for a moment as he tilted his head in wonder, but he quickly transferred his gaze on the Master of Soldiers when the man snapped, “What do you want?” The statement came so suddenly and…angrily?...that Naridin blinked. Edeleas usually spoke coldly and maintained a stare that made most soldiers quail, but it was clear that the Asha’man was not in a good mood today. Perhaps another soldier had just left and given him a headache or some of the more brazen Accepted—he had seen how the girls’ glances and giggles made his mentor rub his temples. Naridin could continue to wonder what it might be, but he wasn’t there to ask.

“I come for punishment, Sir,” he answered politely. No need to raise the man’s temper from how it already was. The Light knew Edeleas needed a break from all the temple rubbing or he would pop a vein. And Naridin had come giving a problem, too. “Marik Gaidin sent me here for missing his classes.”

The Aiel remained standing in front of the Master of Soldier’s desk, awaiting whatever punishment the Asha’man had in store. He did not expect a light punishment—this was his mentor Edeleas al’Kuar Asha’man, after all—but he hoped the man’s temper would not make it worse than what he was expecting. And Naridin was already expecting the worse he scenario he could imagine.

“I come for punishment, Sir,” Naridin answered. Edeleas' frown got uglier by the second. “Marik Gaidin sent me here for missing his classes.”

Another one? Shadow take him, Edeleas had had enough on his mind without all of these boys adding to his trouble! He felt the annoyance well up within him, well up so much that he just wanted to hit something randomly and break it into millions of tiny pieces, whatever it was. But he had to calm down. His glare got sharper as he looked at Naridin's eyes, straight into them, but he did not say anything. Missing classes....every boy in the Black Tower neglected their classes, but that was not going to justify it. Classes were important if ever they wanted to gain the Sword Pin and the Dragon Pin, there was no other way around that. Even the most talented had to go through classes. Edeleas had gone through the classes, the same as every single one of his brothers did the same. Naridin was lazy, but he had potential. The laziness was something they needed to fix.

"I am not happy about that, Naridin." Edeleas said, bowing for a moment. When he looked up his expression had softened. He steepled his fingers together and glanced at Naridin from head to toe. "I suppose you might want to know this, but you are one of the more talented boys I keep at the moment. You have potential, I give you that, but your laziness is something you need to fix, or I won't give you a Dragon Pin even if all of your hair had gone white with waiting."

Slowly, like the ebbing of the Sharan tides, Edeleas' anger and annoyance slipped away. In another time he would have happily screamed his lungs out at the man and whipped his back raw with slashes of Air and Fire. But not today. Shai'tan knew he needed his own breaks.

"This is your punishment. I want you to fetch ten bottles of oosquai from the Kitchens and come back here, do you understand?"

He believed his mentor. But the encouragement...praise...whatever it was, it failed to impress him. Like Edeleas said, what was talent without eagerness? His father would tell him--exhasperatedly--that he had talent, but even if he could have been a warrior at the age of 15, he never got admitted into a warrior society. He didn't seem to care about his talents. What was he going to do with it? Such a way of urging did not get to him.

The threat of not being raised was effective, though. Who'd want to spend years training, in battle and the One Power, without ascending at all? He'd do the same thing year after year, 'till he bored himself to death. Not a very pleasing thought. Naridin was already thinking of a way to get through sword training (perish the thought!) when Edeleas spoke again.

"This is your punishment. I want you to fetch ten bottles of oosquai from the Kitchens and come back here, do you understand?"

Oosquai? In the kitchens? Naridin gaped. He spent years in the Black Tower, not knowing there was his favorite drink, conveniently stored in the kitchens. In the kitchens! How did the Asha'man even get their hands on the stuff? Did it really matter? Naridin mentally shook himself and nodded. As soon as he was out of the room, he dashed for the kitchens. He was grinning like an idiot on his way there, that some stared. Oosquai in the kitchens! Light, that felt good, repeating in his mind.

The head cook was there, and a few novices. Naridin wove through the busy people 'till he came to the cellar door. The cook, a rather wide woman with food stains on her apron, blocked his way, an inquiring brow rising higher than Naridin thought possible.

"And where do you think yer going?" she asked in a shril voice--suprising, for someone her size.

"I was instructed to get oosquai. By Edeleas al'Kuar Asha'man." he answered immediately, practically hopping from one foot to another in excitement.

Her face softened, and then she muttered. "Very well. The man had better come over later to confirm that, or I'll have your head." And then she wobbled off.

After a few minutes of squinting through the dark and dust, he was back to Edeleas' study, a crate of ten bottles of oosquai in his hands. He couldn't knock, so he opened the door.

"I have them, sir."