<A short depiction of a key moment in her early life.>
Young Yve has had an easy enough life so far, her family have never been poor, they've always lived well and neither parent has been taken from her by illness or conflict.
She has recently discovered her talent after reflexively using it to save a boy from falling in front of a wagon. It happened in a busy street, and they think noone really noticed, but her aunt saw the flash of the power and realised Yve was the source.
One evening, nearly 2 months later, Yve stands at home, in front of a mirror.
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Yve stood on her toe tips, stared into the mirror and squinted her eyes, searching her reflection for any changes.
Her brow wrinkled a little in concentration and a tiny thread of power wrought light apeared in her hand, air from around her and a little fire borrowed from the candle. She held it upto look at, and returned her attention to the mirror.
The girl reflected in the mirror stared back with her soft brown eyes. Unruly, dark brown hair tried to escape from the rough leather band loosely holding it up in a bun at the back of her head. At 11, she had to stretch upwards to see herself in the polished metal of their simple mirror.
She stood there for a time, light in hand, staring at her reflection expectantly.
Her mother spoke from the next room, "You're doing it again, aren't you?"
The light blinked out and Yve quickly replied, "No, mother, I'm just tying back my hair."
"Don't lie to me, sweetie, I can see that light even if no how you do it." She said as she rounded the doorframe.
Only somewhat round and sporting the same brown eyes as her daughter, Yve's mother was the picturebook example of the comfortably well off merchant, wife and mother. Her neatly tied back, black hair sat under a small, light scarf, and her jewelrey was simple, but well made. Her dark green dress was likewise unostentatious and practical yet clearly of quality material and making.
Yve had been told, quite recently, about how she got her name. She had known she was named after an ancestor but not exactly why.
There had been a viewing, it was called, a kind of vision of a possible future. The midwife, her aunt Kel, had had a viewing, about her and *her*, they think. It was brief but clear; a girl looked into a mirror, power in hand, while in the mirror, a young woman different yet the same matched her pose, but then passes a small leatherbound book through the glass, the girl takes the book and leaves. Kel was convinced that woman was their common ancestor, passing on her hopes in the form of her journal to her new self respun, or at the very least her spiritual heir. And hence the child was given her name.
"I've told you before, it's no so direct. Kel, doesn't usually see... things... literally. She do rarely "see" anything at all for most." Her dialect was atypical of a local, she'd married a foreigner, and was well travelled. She'd also found her travels that people took her more seriously if she tried to hide her Illianer speech and so had trained herself out of it, mostly.
"You mean I really won't see her?" Yve seemed deflated as she said this. "Not ever?"
"The Wheel Weaves as it wills, so who can say for certain, but likely no." With this she put an arm around her daughter and pulled her close. "I'm sure she be watching over you though." She sighed, "But it IS time you learned to control... that." She waved her other hand around theatrically.
"I can control it very well!" Yve said defiantly, snapping her fingers and summoning back her little weave of air and fire.
"Stop that!" Her mother pulled Yve's arm down, breaking her concentration. "Light save us. I'm pretty sure the first thing people learn about the power is that it's not a thing to toy with or take lightly." She sighed slightly. "And besides, you may not always be somewhere as safe as where we are now. A frivolous thing like that could get you in a lot of trouble in some places."
"I'm sorry, mum." Yve looked decidedly crestfallen.
"It's only been a little over a month, and you can already do that whenever you want?"
A quick grin lit up Yve's face, her mother seemed just a little bit impressed, "The air bit is easy, but the fire bit I need to, like, borrow from something."
Looking down at her child, Yve's mother smiled slighty but quickly her expression turned serious.
"I suppose I need to tell you this." She looked her child directly in the eye, "Before I go on, this doesn't mean we're cross with you or that you've done anything wrong."
Yve looked worried.
"Since the thing with the boy and the cart your father and I have been working on finding some help for you." She paused and closed her eyes for a moment before continuing, "We're sending you somewhere, to learn about your gift, to get the kind of help that I just can't give."
"The Tower?" Yve asked hopefully.
A thing her mother and Aunt continued to disagree on was what the viewing meant. Her Aunt considered it to be simply a passing of a family gift and a suggestion of a new life with new opportunities opening before her, and her mother thought the diary passing was a clear warning, to be careful and especially to avoid getting caught up in any "Tower nonsense" and to find her own way. Yve of course, sided with her Aunt any time the subject came up in her presence, as she was convinced it meant she could, would and should go to the White Tower one day.
"We wouldn't do that to you, sweetpea. You think it's what you want, but we've both read the diary. Seen what it was like to live there."
"It didn't seem so bad to me." Her eyes widened, "There were battles, grand occasions, brave warders, that blue Sedai that was her friend and tutor, and the giant library... and saidar, saidar everywhere... they know EVERYTHING about it!"
"But there was conflict in the Tower, unkind people, politics and factions, being trapped in a place far from home, with people who seem mostly interested in their own business." She grimaced a little, "You're too young to really understand how hard she found it, and why she ultimately left."
Her family had always tried to keep any emergences of the power amongst them quiet, even in safer times. Their ancestor, the first Yve, had eloped from the Tower with a guard, 2 centuries before, and being wary of revealing themselves had become a kind of family tradition, one maintained even as the power diminished in the bloodline, and fear of association with the original Yve's crime or "being taken to the Tower" subsided.
The exception to this was with the local healers and wisdoms, themselves often wilder channelers trying to remain inconspicuous. Many in her family had chosen to be midwives and herbalists and so they had stong links amongst them.
It was to them that her mother would turn.
"We're sending you to Andor. It's not the Tower, but you will be near one other marvel of the age of legends, the bridge over the river Arinelle at Whitebridge."
"Do I have to?" Yve immediately replied, she cared not for bridges and buildings.
"Yes, yes you do. Noone we know here can teach you what you need, they think you're going to be strong in the Power. There is a wisdom that will take you as a kind of apprentice, though you're a little young."
Her eyes glistened a little as she looked down at her child, she squeezed Yve's hand in hers. "She's been a friend of the family for many years and she'll take good care of you, and she has the power, just like you, and she'll show you how to use it safely. You can come home to visit sometimes, and your father thinks we can have Derq run the shop for a week or so and we can both visit you there too. I'll write to you every week."
Yve didn't look convinced, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"I'll come with you to Whitebridge, where we're meeting her, though she lives a few miles from there. This is important, or we wouldn't be doing it. It'll be your own adventure," She smiled, "Maybe it's time to start keeping a diary of your own."
With this Yve smiled a little, maybe this WOULD be ok.
A Viewing to the Past
Re: A Viewing to the Past
Great job Yve!