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The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose at the source of the river Erinin, on the slopes of Dragonmount. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the Wheel of Time. And it is the beginning of all.
The wind was blowing southward. It stirred the surface of the river where it merged with the Antaeo, ruffling the hair of the peasants and fishermen, who barely thought about the ancient and terrible history of the mountain to the north, and only occasionally remembered the glittering city to the south. The wind swayed the ferry, which carried a diverse mix of people, rich and poor, dressed in silk and embroidered dresses or simple linen shirts, but all with the same goal in mind.
The wind blew on, and ran along the intricate carvings of the bridges that the Ogier-masters had created in the time of yore – the bridges of Tar Valon. The wind messed the hair and blew the cloaks of the people in the crowded, winding streets of the city, gliding between the majestic, snow-white buildings. It swayed the flowers of the magnificent gardens, blooming despite the increasingly dry weather, and filled the air with sweet scents.
The wind swept up, supporting the wings of dozens of pigeons, which carried secrets from all over the world to the White Tower, and dozens more, which spread orders and instructions that could influence the fate of kings. The wind swirled, trying to embrace the tower and crashing against its wide, snow-white walls.
Sliding among the intricate carvings and stucco, the wind reached the windows of the Mistress of Novices's study, slipping inside and stirring the heavy curtains… And subsided when Sheriam Bayanar closed the window tightly.
The Mistress of Novices walked over to her chair, straightening her fiery red hair, which had been ruffled by the draft. Once she sat and smoothed out her unadorned navy blue skirt, she looked up calmly at the nervous novice.
Elayne Trakand tried her best not to crumple the white fabric of her dress in her hands and to look straight ahead, but it was not easy. As the heir to the Lion Throne, she had learned to control herself and to always look dignified. However, in the White Tower, her position in Andor was important, but it did not protect her from punishment. This was something the Daughter-Heir was not accustomed to.
"I left the Tower without permission," Elayne's voice was steady as she looked into the emerald eyes of the Mistress of Novices, but it was a struggle. "I have broken the rules, and I am grateful that I have not been exiled and that I have been allowed to remain a novice. I humbly ask that you punish me according to the rules and instructions of the Seat of the Amyrlin, Sheriam Sedai."
Elayne dipped into a graceful curtsy. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and her heart was racing. She was doing what she had to do, for Rand's sake and for the sake of the world! But the Daughter-Heir longed to wield the One Power and become a true Aes Sedai, not just a brief apprenticeship like all the rulers of Andor before her. To achieve this, she had to accept her punishment. A cowardly part of Elayne's soul whispered that the Tower could not refuse an Accepted with her potential, that she would not be expelled under any circumstances, but she refused to listen to these thoughts. Whether it was true or not, as long as she was a student, her stubbornness would only be a hindrance. Perhaps the Aes Sedai would not expel a promising Accepted, but there was no reason why she should not be sent to scrub cauldrons instead of being taught until she was ready to bend.
Sheriam's lips parted slightly. It was not a smile, but it was enough to intensify Elayne's anger.
"It's good that you understand why you're here, Elayne. But do you know why Novices are not allowed to leave the Tower without permission?" As was often the case, the Mistress of Novices spoke as if she were reciting a lecture. "Your gift has already awakened, and you are capable of channeling, and unlike some wilder in a remote village, you have even mastered some basic techniques and weaves. However, you are still far from controlling the saidar. Even women who are not chosen by the White Tower would not be released into the world until they have been disciplined. You could have scooped up more of the One Power than you can hold, created a weave the effect of which you don't fully understand, and as a result killed or stilled yourself, and at the same time caused the Light knows what kind of destruction.
“Yes, Sheriam Sedai. I'm sorry," Elayne said, trying not to sound annoyed. She was confident in her control of saidar. In the short time she had spent in the Tower, she had learned more than any other Novice in the same amount of time, with the exception of Nynaeve and Egwene!
"Besides, the Aes Sedai have always been allies of Andor, and it would be unfortunate not only for your mother, but for the White Tower, if the Daughter-Heir perished through her own foolishness," Elayne was certain that Shieriam was deliberately trying to provoke her. But she would not allow it.
"You are right, Sheriam Sedai. I acted impulsively," Elayne said coldly, staring straight ahead.
It was impossible to tell whether the Mistress of Novices was pleased or irritated by her composure. With the blank expression that all Aes Sedai possessed, she smoothed her skirt again and patted her plump lap.
"In that case, let's proceed with your punishment without further ado. As you've admitted, Elayne, this is a serious offense, and the Amyrlin Seat has told me not to feel sorry for you, so we're here for the long haul. "
Elayne gulped nervously. She really hoped that she did not blush or turn pale, but the girl's heart was beating desperately, and her buttocks were squeezing in fright. But the Daughter-Heir of Andor did not stoop to beg for clemency. On almost wooden legs, she walked over to Sheriam 's chair, which armrests seemed to have been specially shortened for such occasions, and lay across the Mistress’ lap.
Elayne's gaze was fixed on the fluffy carpet with the White Flame of Tar Valon woven into it. Her thick red-gold curls fell down, obscuring everything but that fragment of the pattern from her view. She could only feel Sheriam's hand nonchalantly lifting the hem of her snow-white Novice's dress (as she hadn’t time to get one for Accepted yet) to mid-back, followed by the silk chemise. Elayne blushed profusely as she felt the air touch her rounded buttocks. She clenched her thighs tightly, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.
Of course, as a child, old Lini, who had nursed both her mother and grandmother, had spanked Elayne on the buttocks more than once. But now she was much older, she was mastering the One Power, and she had fought the Black Sister and the Seanchan! She was not a little girl who needed to be spanked on her bare bottom!
But apparently, the White Tower and Sheriam Bayanar personally thought otherwise. After a brief pause, Elayne felt a resounding slap on both of her buttocks. She managed to suppress a painful gasp and didn't even flinch, but the Mistress of Novices didn't give her time to recover. More slaps rained down on her ass at a rapid pace, landing on both sides, sending a wave of heat through her skin. Elaine alternated between tensing and relaxing her thighs and buttocks, breathing heavily and curling her toes in her elegant shoes. The slaps weren't really painful, but they were impossible to ignore, and the skin under the Mistress’ hand was burning more and more intensely, as if the Daughter-Heir was standing with her back to a hot fireplace.
At last the slapping stopped. Elayne took a breath, relaxing involuntarily and sagging slightly in Sheriam's lap. But the sound of the latter opening and closing a drawer in her desk let the girl know that her punishment was far from over. This was not the first time Elayne had been in the Mistress of the Novices' office, and she had heard from other students that it contained an arsenal of tools to instill obedience in the heads—or rather, the behinds—of prospective Aes Sedai. The Daughter-Heir bit her lip, wondering what Sheriam had chosen for her. She would never admit it, but at that moment, Elayne was really scared.
The answer came almost immediately in the form of a much more resonant and heavy slap than before. An oval imprint of pain flashed across Elayne's skin, and she realized that the Mistress had taken up a massive polished wood hairbrush. This time, the girl couldn't hold back a staccato moan. The brush was certainly better than a cane or a huge paddle that could cover her entire ass, but the spanking was no longer just hot, but also quite painful!
Sheriam didn't hit her as often now, but it didn't make it any easier. The sound of each slap echoed through the study, gradually fading into the carpets, curtains, and intricate carvings on the expensive furniture, and the pain spread throughout Elayne's body. She couldn't help but flinch every time the brush landed on her bottom, and soon she began to buck like a wild horse. The Daughter-Heir bit her lip angrily and clenched her fingers until they turned white, trying to endure the punishment in silence, but her strained breaths sounded more like muffled moans.
The flames of Tar Valon swaying in front of Elayne's eyes in time with the slaps began to blur, and she realized that she was on the verge of tears. This angered her greatly, but she couldn't focus on her anger, as her bottom exploded in pain every few moments, and both of her buttocks were already burning as if she had sat down in the fireplace. Before she realized it, short cries began to escape from her swollen lips, followed by louder and louder moans.
The girl knew that the Mistress of Novices’ office was surrounded by a minor Weave, that prevented all sound from getting out. What happened inside was no secret, but the Novices were allowed some privacy. Still, Elayne wanted to check if anyone could hear the shameful cries, even though she knew that embracing the saidar would earn her an even harsher beating.
Soon the moans turned into sobs, and Elayne realized that tears were streaming down her face. They ran down her nose or temples and fell one by one onto the carpet, soaking into the White Flame, just as the tears of many dozens of novices had done before her. The Daughter-Heir's graceful, long legs flailed desperately in the air, but Sheriam only pressed harder on her lower back, keeping her in place, and continued to spank her already throbbing ass.
“Please, Sheriam Sedai!! Have mercy!! I'm sorry that I ran away!! Please, no more!!” Elayne hated every word coming out of her mouth, but she couldn't stop. It's very difficult to feel like an almost full-fledged Aes Sedai when you're swinging your legs in the air, sobbing with your bare bottom all red. The Daughter-Heir felt just like she had when she was over old Lini's lap, refusing to admit she had done something wrong at first, but the nanny was usually right. Elayne didn't want to think that might be the case now, but her confidence was fading with each new slap.
Sheriam began to mark lower, delivering the brush over the delicate fold of flesh connecting the girl's buttocks and the upper part of her sturdy thighs. Elayne's crying and pleading had turned into uncontrollable sobs and wailing. The tears had already significantly soaked the carpet, and if the flames were real, they would have extinguished them. The new slaps meant that Elayne would have to stand or fidget awkwardly in the classrooms and dining hall in the near future, but she didn't care right now. Pain and shame overwhelmed the Daughter-Heir, and she could only sob uncontrollably, just as she had done more than a decade ago when she had been found playing with a dagger stolen from a guard.
The sobbing and sniffling novice didn't even notice that the blows had stopped falling on her swollen, burning bottom. Elayne realized that she was catching her breath, and she hoped that the punishment was over. It was a good thing, because she probably couldn't take another slap.
Once again, Sheriam proved the novice wrong. Elayne's buttocks were suddenly assaulted by the brush again, but this time it landed with its stiff bristles facing forward! It felt as if dozens of thin needles were piercing her inflamed and burning skin. The Daughter-Heir let out a shriek and arched her back, as during the Healing. Before she could even take a breath, the bristles of the brush bit into her buttocks again. And again! And once more!
Sheriam gave her only half a dozen of those slaps, but to Elayne the end of her punishment seemed endless. If it hadn't been for the enchantment on the room, her screams would have been heard five floors up and down. When the Mistress of the Novices stopped, the Daughter-Heir slumped in her lap, sobbing loudly and sniffling like a child. Her bottom was crimson from top to bottom, and dotted with small red dots.
Sheriam gave the girl some time to cry, then gently lifted her from her knees and held her close. The Mistress of the Novices was stern, but she also made sure that the girls who had been torn from their homes did not become desperate in the White Tower. Elayne clung to her gratefully, sobbing into the Aes Sedai's shoulder.
The Mistress of the Novices washed the girl's face with a simple weave of Water and Air and helped her to her feet. The hem of her dress slid down, although it seemed to Elayne that her flaming ass should show through the white fabric.
"I—I'm sorry that I... left the Tower... w-without asking..." she mumbled, looking at the floor, and this time the guilt and sincere remorse could be heard much more clearly in the novice's voice.
"I suppose we can forget about that," Sheriam said with a soft smile. "Of course, that doesn't mean you can forget about working in the kitchen."
"Yes, Sheriam Sedai," Elayne bowed and left the room. After making sure that there was no one in the hallway, the heir-apparent jumped up and down on her toes, hissing and rubbing her bottom through the fabric. Perhaps she wasn't ready to make all the decisions on her own... Perhaps she wasn't quite an Aes Sedai yet.