Elaryl M’Kasa

Biography — Writing History

Written By: Becky
Created: May 2010

Curriculum Vitae

  • Gender: F
  • Hometown: Tar Valon
  • Rank: Daishar’Tar
  • Weaponry Focus: Double swords/archery

Physical Description

Elaryl is slightly above average height for a woman, a few inches under six feet, and slender, though after almost six years of training to be Gaidar she has the lean, muscular look of a professional soldier. Long, straight, brown hair hangs to her mid-back, and is usually tied back or braided down her back. Blue eyes look out from under lashes which she generally considers to be unimpressive.

Biography

The wagon lay, splintered and broken, in the middle of the road, its wares laying scattered around it, the moonlight reflecting off the numerous daggers and swords flung on the ground. Elaryl pushed a tree branch aside and looked around carefully. Seeing no one, she stepped out onto the road and around the wagon, swallowing her fears of what she would see. The ground beneath her feet told a tale in its ruts and scuffles, the churned mud and broken footprints—and the four bodies dressed in black. She could follow the fight from the ground as if she had been there herself- but she hadn’t. Stop it. That’s not important right now. Find him first. Then hate yourself. There– a heap lying by the rear wheel. Light, no- She ran towards what had once been her father. His deep brown hair– the same brown as hers– threaded with grey, was matted, thick with blood. His blue eyes, which had once shone with kindness and merriment, were now lifeless, glazed in death. She stepped away and backed up, shaking. Her mind refused to accept it as her stomach rebelled- she stepped behind a bush nearby, emptying the contents of her stomach. Her father’s stomach was a mass of blood and gore– she was almost thankful they had slit his throat as well. At least he had died quickly, instead of lying there for hours, or days, in agony from a gut wound.

She crouched behind the bush, an ache in the back of her throat from holding her tears back. She didn’t want to cry- crying was weak, and she didn’t want to add to her existing weakness. Why did I listen? Why didn’t I refuse to do what he told me? He could have– There was movement to her right, the leaves whispering eerily as two men came out of the trees on the side of the road she had come from. One was tall, and solid, as if his ancestors were oak trees; the other was just as tall, but his ancestors were willows. Their faces covered, and they hadn’t seen her yet. She stayed crouched behind the bush. They were arguing about something, both facing away from her. They were very close, only on the opposite side of the road, but she listened closely and could just make out what they were saying. She heard Oak first.

“I say we keep looking. There was another one, we all saw her.”

“Her?”

Oak’s laugh was low and disturbing. “Oh yes. It was definitely a her. Not dressed as a woman, but definitely a her.”

“Who cares? This bastard killed Ahri and the others already,” Willow spit towards her father and El had to keep the rage from taking her then and there. “Take what you can carry, the Light-forsaken horse is gone and we can’t take the whole wagon, and let’s get out of here before someone comes along.”

“No one will be coming along,” Oak persisted. “It’s too late, and this road isn’t important enough to have many night time travelers. It’s people like us that keep them off. Say she gets away and tells someone, and then someone does come along, before we leave? I say we keep looking, and prevent that from happening.” His tone suggested another motive for finding her.

“Shut your mouth and start collecting. We all– ” Clearly there was no “we” left, just Willow. “I know why you want to find the ‘her’ so bad, and it’s not to protect us. We have no time for that. Get going. You can have any girl you want after we get back and sell these.” Willow shoved Oak and he grudgingly complied, muttering as he started picking her father’s weapons up.

These men had killed her father, and would do that and worse if they found her. She could feel the rage and the pain welling up inside her, but she directed it as her father had taught her. Moving silently, she reached out with her arm and grasped the sword laying in the road a few feet away from her. She hefted it silently. It was too heavy for her, but it was something. It would do. She summoned the rage felt a few moments ago, but kept control on it, not letting it consume her and let her make fatal mistake. She closed off every part of her body to it except for her swordarm, and crept up behind the two men. The sword became an extension of her arm, and the two thieves, arms laden with weapons that were now no use, never expected her.

Later that night, she rode into Tar Valon, making for her home. She had found the wagon horse and her own mare, Nari, and had hitched them to the wagon again. In the wagon was her father, surrounded by the weapons he made and took such pride in. She put the horses in the stable, put the wagon away, and took her father in. How am I going to tell Mama?…

The night her father died, Elaryl made up her mind. As soon as her mother settled things and they could sell the shop, the weapons, and their old house, Elaryl would go to the Tower to become Gaidar. Her father had been teaching her swordplay and archery for five years, and she thought she was ready. At sixteen, in one night, her life had changed considerably, and it seemed the right time. After she turned seventeen, she left her mother and her old life, and walked into the Tower.

Six Years Later.

 

She had been a mid-level Trainee for far too long, and it was beginning to rankle.

 

She would not, could not, admit to herself that Craig’s disappearance had had anything to do with her failure to advance. It was ridiculous. It was her own fault, as well, for turning down his marriage proposal. She knew what it had taken for him to do that. And besides, she was not the sort of woman to allow a man, or lack of a man, to interfere with her life. A few months after his disappearance she resigned herself to the fact that he obviously considered her dead to him, and had renewed her training with as much dedication as she had always shown. She had gone dancing, and met other men, and made friends; and then Kelindia Sedai had summoned her to a meeting.

She couldn’t think why; she wasn’t full rank yet, and so was only slightly useful, and she certainly didn’t think she had done anything wrong. Without telling her anything of much use, the Blue Sister told Elaryl that Craig, who worked for her in a some sort of Eyes and Ears network, had designated her as some kind of Second—whatever Craig was doing now that he’d disappeared from her life, apparently she hadn’t completely disappeared from his. If he was to die during his work, she would be responsible for recovering his effects, finding any notes or records he had kept, and conveying the information to Kelindia Sedai.

She sat in the Aes Sedai’s office, silently, and thought. For any other person, the wait would have been far too long—but Kelindia Sedai sat without a word, waiting with no change in that inscrutable mask. Elaryl did not want this “honor,” not one whit—what right had he to ask her to be involved in his life again? The last she knew, he hated her. Why would he even want her for this duty? Finally she shifted, fidgeting her shoulders slightly, inhaling.

“Yes, Kelindia Sedai… I will do this duty for the Tower.” She tried to keep her voice neutral, but she could tell that there was the slightest emphasis on the “Tower.” For the Tower, not him, and however unwillingly, she told herself. The Aes Sedai appraised her knowingly.

“Thank you for your service, Trainee.” She rearranged her shawl deliberately. “It is hard to love a man who will be Gaidin, child.” Elaryl stared for a moment, swallowing. She hadn’t been sure how much Craig had told this woman about her—and she still didn’t know if he had told her anything. She was an Aes Sedai—he may not have had to speak of Elaryl at all. She had steadfastly tried to stay as neutral as possible about Craig and she, and their history, not knowing if the Aes Sedai would approve. Apparently she was not too concerned. Finally Elaryl nodded.

“Yes. Yes it is. Especially this one,” she added wearily, shaking her head. She saw the tiniest smile flash across Kelindia Sedai’s face before it disappeared—but it stayed in her eyes as she dismissed Elaryl.

“Nevertheless, he has determined that you are the only person he trusts enough to nominate for this duty. You may go, child. You will hear from us again.”

Of course this position, as it were, brought things she had forced down in herself back up, and she had to deal with them all over again. Her renewed vigor for training had waned again. She wasted bowstrings by neglecting the care of her bow, left the Grounds early—she had practiced her archery for less than an hour today—skipped sparring dates, slept late… she was honestly surprised that she was still here. The Head of Gaidin had to notice, eventually—she had to do something before he did.

She shook her head fiercely and unstrung her bow violently, tossing the discarded bowstring into a nearby tree, watching the end circle round and round as it hung there. Let someone wonder how that got there. She was out of sorts, and was tired of being out of sorts. She wouldn’t stand for it any longer. Light blind him and his missions and needs and memories.

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Writing History

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