The barrack was full of sleeping bodies, echoing with the sound of slow breathing. Pahdua’s bootstrings disturbed the silence as the Sei’Tar pulled each through the appropriate opening, their steel tips dragging across the floor. Still, she was almost silent – though not Gaidar yet, Pahdua was well on her way. She was confident that soon, she would be able to track through woods and city alike without making a sound. That fancloth would be hers. She had no other options.

She jogged out of her barrack while all of her roommates were still abed. Dawn was hardly a dream on the horizon; the sky had not even begun to lighten. But it was the perfect time to exercise. The yards were not at all crowded, and it would be another few hours before Pahdua saw more than a few other determined souls. By that point in time, she would have already finished stretching and running – she would already have progressed to whichever weapon she was practicing that day. She settled down to her stretches, though they were difficult, given the amount of clothing she was wearing. It was winter, and though she would soon be sweating, without these layers, she would run the risk of sickness. That, Pahdua could not afford.

An hour and several laps around the Tower proper later, Pahdua was ready to begin training. She procured an old bastard sword from the Armory and began with a few basic forms, such as Heron Wading in the Rushes and Lion on the Hill. Soon she was progressing to complex maneuvers, flowing from form to form effortlessly – almost. She moved from Lion on the Hill into Arc of the Moon, which flowed into Tower of Morning. Ending with her sword pointed downward on her right, Pahdua took a few moments to breathe. She stretched the kinks out of her muscles and headed to the mess for some breakfast.

It was still quiet. Most trainees, like Pahdua, chose to go through their morning exercise routine before they ate. That said, most trainees did not awake as early as Pahdua, so they were still in the yards. Only a few Gaidin and Sei’Tar like herself were in the mess hall, most of them occupied not in conversation, but in shoveling as much food into themselves in as short a time as possible.

It was another day. Another monotonous bloody day.

Shortly thereafter, she returned to the sword. Pahdua Unfolded the Fan and then forced herself into its counter, Stones Falling Down the Mountain. She moved into basic two and then spun in the circle that was Soft Rain at Sunset. She ducked in its counter, the River Undercuts the Bank. The Sei’Tar repositioned her hands from reverse grip to normal and finished – just as she had began – in basic two guard.

“Good show,” said a woman’s voice to her right. Pahdua hadn’t even noticed that anyone was watching. Unlike the men, Pahdua wasn’t accustomed to an audience. The female Greens were always coming down to watch the men sweat, but there weren’t enough male Aes Sedai to do the same for the few female trainees. That said, the Sei’Tar had never found it necessary to keep an eye on her surroundings while she was training. But apparently she had been wrong, for women could watch women just as easily as women could watch men.

The thought brought shivers down Pahdua’s spine, even as she wrinkled her nose in distaste. It had been almost a year since Gillian…but a year was not enough to pale the memories in Pahdua’s mind. Light, five years would not be enough to erase the memory of the woman’s words, of her deadly fall to the ground from the center of the Rough. And nothing could ever rid Pahdua of the gift with which she had been cursed – the same gift that was twisting both stomach and nose as she struggled to calm her overactive senses. For that was all it was – the Sniffing got her nothing, not here. It was a secret she kept well guarded – she didn’t want to turn into one of those cases the Yellows kept closeted in the Infirmary – for her own safety. She didn’t want to find Darkfriends. She didn’t want anything to do with them. She wanted to become a Gaidar; she wanted to bond. Maybe then, she could put her curse to use. But for now…

She cast a wary eye on the woman who was watching her. The same dark scent that Pahdua smelled daily emanated strongly from this one, though it said little about her character. Pahdua had learned that Gaidin smelled of violence strongly, as was only proper – they engaged in fighting, whether mock or real, day after day, so it was only natural that some residual scent of those interactions should stick to their clothing. This woman’s scent was particularly strong, but that could just be because she had just returned from battle or just been in a fight. Neither seemed likely, given the child at her side, but…still. Pahdua was not one to jump to conclusions, not since this gift had developed. She didn’t want to get killed, after all.

She bowed her head in acknowledgment, wondering who this woman was to take an interest in her. She was obviously not Aes Sedai – she looked young, but not in the ageless, unsettling way that female channelers did. She was slender and lithe, very much in shape, with loose brown curls that went just below her shoulder. Her boy had similar curls, though darker and much shorter. He had his thumb in his mouth, which the Gaidar nonchalantly pulled from him the moment she noticed where the digit had wandered. Pahdua couldn’t help but smile.

“Would you like a partner?” the woman offered, a small smile gracing her lips. Most people looked happier, friendlier when they smiled – this one looked almost…feral.

But still, it was an offer Pahdua could not refuse. She had become too introverted lately, to the point that unless she forced herself to seek out a sparring partner, she usually went without. No amount of practicing forms by oneself could hone one into the weapon that the Kandori longed to be. And so, with a grin that was much more friendly than the one the Gaidar had issued, Pahdua nodded and slipped once more into basic two. She was in for a hard fight, no doubt, but surely she had enough experience that she could at least challenge a Gaidar?

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