Kavrii (kav-ree) was the young woman's name. And the Aes Sedai had sent for her from one of the southlands of RhyDin.
She was heard to have been able to do especially great work with fabrics known, and unknown. Wool, leather, silk, satin, velvet and even some that Valucia had never heard of. It was not a very spectacular thing for a woman to have a dress made. But it certainly was when there were special properties needed for the hiding of items. And the word "fancloth" had been mentioned by the young woman in the letter the Aes Sedai had received from Kavrii.
Normally, it was only used for a Warder's cloak. She intended to have a dress made. And a travelling cloak for herself made of that fancloth, made by none but the White Tower and by means of a very special way. Valucia intended a lengthy discussion with the girl before measurement would even be made for either. To even come by the smallest bit of fancloth was a question -- all by itself.
Valucia turned her horse and followed the path that lead her over the expanse of stone that bridged the gap between the north and south of RhyDin. She was headed to hamlet of Isaprel where silver-sailed ships came to port, where merfolk were plentiful, and where this presumably special young woman lived.
Spring brought on the rains with little or no warning. Valucia pulled the cowl of her older, black and silver traveling cloak made of treated wool that with trimmings of leather that kept the rains from soaking in and ran down the material of it and off to the ground below.
The horse's hooves sunk into the mud, squishing with each step into the muck and pulling of it right out. The weather did not completely impeded them but it did insist upon a slower way as they travel from the well-known city of RhyDin to Isaprel. She hadn't the power like some within the realm to simply disappear from one spot and reappear in another. In fact, she preferred this mode of transportation over that in the instant it was ever given any thought. Travelling, riding upon horseback was enjoyable and not minded at all. It afforded her the touch of rain and wind as well as the sun upon her face and hands.
At that time, the wind had picked up. And as enjoyable as it might have been, this particular moment was rougher with her than the last, spattering the rain drops against her ageless features. Slightest of frowns, the small-statured woman with the long-trailing black hair bent her head down enough to put the cowl more over her face, neck and those dark tresses of hers.
It was two days travel on horseback from the great city to reach the hamlet of Isaprel. is Half of the first day was spent in heavy rains that grew lighter, slowly, as each hour passed until night fell and Valucia stopped at a home several leagues beyond where many buried their dead at RhyDin's cemetery.
The elder man was surprised to find anyone travelling in that weather, even more so to find a lovely woman travelling by herself. His back was crooked and arched, making her think of him as a sort of hunchback. She did not pity him or mourn him but found herself accepting him for exactly what she saw of him: another creature within the many realms of RhyDin. His eyes were so black that she could not see the difference from his pupils and irises. His face was a leathered, dark-dark tan with deep wrinkles carved into his forehead, at the corners of his eyes, and about his mouth. Though his hands were think and gnarled and walked about the little three-room home of his, he moved without any appearance of suffrage.
"I am Valucia--"
"Know what ye are, Valucia Sedai. Know what ye are." A gnarled finger pointed to the ring on the woman's finger of a snake eating its own tail. That alone wouldn't have marked her for what she was or where she was from and he laughed as a fine, left brow of hers arched slowly. "And saw the shawl there..." Pointing to the pack she had brought inside the home with her of its many and very particular colors. Then lastly to her ageless visage that no matter how ancient some in the lands got, few had the flawless, porcelain appearance of a woman that did not age beyond her twenties. Even that wasn't enough to describe the face of an Aes Sedai. Something faintly indescribably, but known the moment those familiar with knew as soon as they saw one of these women.
"Then you have me at a disadvantage..." Her words trailed and awaited him patiently to say more.
The seemingly very old man chuckled and nodded. He was enjoying the moment. Aes Sedai were not surprised often and he had successful done this. It was cherished and he would remember it for as long as he could!
"Aye...aye, Valucia Sedai. But here ye be..." A large cloth was thrust out towards her. "For the rain." Gnarled hand waved at her. She might have had a good travelling cloak on but her hands, face and hair were still seen to be wet.
She was heard to have been able to do especially great work with fabrics known, and unknown. Wool, leather, silk, satin, velvet and even some that Valucia had never heard of. It was not a very spectacular thing for a woman to have a dress made. But it certainly was when there were special properties needed for the hiding of items. And the word "fancloth" had been mentioned by the young woman in the letter the Aes Sedai had received from Kavrii.
Normally, it was only used for a Warder's cloak. She intended to have a dress made. And a travelling cloak for herself made of that fancloth, made by none but the White Tower and by means of a very special way. Valucia intended a lengthy discussion with the girl before measurement would even be made for either. To even come by the smallest bit of fancloth was a question -- all by itself.
Valucia turned her horse and followed the path that lead her over the expanse of stone that bridged the gap between the north and south of RhyDin. She was headed to hamlet of Isaprel where silver-sailed ships came to port, where merfolk were plentiful, and where this presumably special young woman lived.
Spring brought on the rains with little or no warning. Valucia pulled the cowl of her older, black and silver traveling cloak made of treated wool that with trimmings of leather that kept the rains from soaking in and ran down the material of it and off to the ground below.
The horse's hooves sunk into the mud, squishing with each step into the muck and pulling of it right out. The weather did not completely impeded them but it did insist upon a slower way as they travel from the well-known city of RhyDin to Isaprel. She hadn't the power like some within the realm to simply disappear from one spot and reappear in another. In fact, she preferred this mode of transportation over that in the instant it was ever given any thought. Travelling, riding upon horseback was enjoyable and not minded at all. It afforded her the touch of rain and wind as well as the sun upon her face and hands.
At that time, the wind had picked up. And as enjoyable as it might have been, this particular moment was rougher with her than the last, spattering the rain drops against her ageless features. Slightest of frowns, the small-statured woman with the long-trailing black hair bent her head down enough to put the cowl more over her face, neck and those dark tresses of hers.
It was two days travel on horseback from the great city to reach the hamlet of Isaprel. is Half of the first day was spent in heavy rains that grew lighter, slowly, as each hour passed until night fell and Valucia stopped at a home several leagues beyond where many buried their dead at RhyDin's cemetery.
The elder man was surprised to find anyone travelling in that weather, even more so to find a lovely woman travelling by herself. His back was crooked and arched, making her think of him as a sort of hunchback. She did not pity him or mourn him but found herself accepting him for exactly what she saw of him: another creature within the many realms of RhyDin. His eyes were so black that she could not see the difference from his pupils and irises. His face was a leathered, dark-dark tan with deep wrinkles carved into his forehead, at the corners of his eyes, and about his mouth. Though his hands were think and gnarled and walked about the little three-room home of his, he moved without any appearance of suffrage.
"I am Valucia--"
"Know what ye are, Valucia Sedai. Know what ye are." A gnarled finger pointed to the ring on the woman's finger of a snake eating its own tail. That alone wouldn't have marked her for what she was or where she was from and he laughed as a fine, left brow of hers arched slowly. "And saw the shawl there..." Pointing to the pack she had brought inside the home with her of its many and very particular colors. Then lastly to her ageless visage that no matter how ancient some in the lands got, few had the flawless, porcelain appearance of a woman that did not age beyond her twenties. Even that wasn't enough to describe the face of an Aes Sedai. Something faintly indescribably, but known the moment those familiar with knew as soon as they saw one of these women.
"Then you have me at a disadvantage..." Her words trailed and awaited him patiently to say more.
The seemingly very old man chuckled and nodded. He was enjoying the moment. Aes Sedai were not surprised often and he had successful done this. It was cherished and he would remember it for as long as he could!
"Aye...aye, Valucia Sedai. But here ye be..." A large cloth was thrust out towards her. "For the rain." Gnarled hand waved at her. She might have had a good travelling cloak on but her hands, face and hair were still seen to be wet.