Cuebiyar Jen
"Sisters, Brothers ... the day is upon us."
Jen stepped from the shadows, wearing that archaic purple-fringed shawl, behind those congregated in the Studio ... anyone affiliated with the Purple Ajah was there, anyone who meant anything to them. All were present.
"I knew that it would happen. I knew the day would come when we were finally cast off like so much dead weight, treated like so much garbage. You know as well as I that we have always been only tolerated in the Tower, and at the barest minimum. I'm telling you, that there is no reason for that ... that ... Hall ... to act as they have toward us. We are not some dog they can thwack with a rolled up newspaper each time we do something they don't like." She barely glanced at Haplo and then to his dog, which Nyna--now Sedai--was stroking affectionately, however absentmindedly. "We are Aes Sedai," Jen proclaimed, speaking the title proudly. "And Asha'man," she added at a sideways look from Davidson. "But truly, I cannot take this any longer. And I have made a decision."
She paused for effect. She always knew she was suited for Wisteria.
"We are to separate from the White Tower."
A few shocked gasps graced the silence that predominated in the Studio. They echoed, reverberated off the tall stained-glass windows that lined the acoustically designed hall. Jen strode between the mismatched couches and chairs that were now occupied, spreading her arms wide across the back of one kelly green couch where three novices, certain they would choose Purple, sat. "Don't worry ... you can return to the Tower if you want," she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Standing, she continued. "But I can allow no fence-sitters. Either you come with us, or you go with them. I will not accept anyone in the middle. If you wish to remain with that bloo..."--she caught herself quickly--"the White Tower, as it is, then you will leave us now!" The word escaped her lips forcefully, colored by so much anger penned up inside of her. "Go!" she shouted as novices and Accepted--even a few Aes Sedai--stood to leave and scattered about the Studio. "Out with you!" Tens of people left, clearly wishing no involvement with a group that would no longer be a part of their precious Tower.
Until, after the race to exit the dreaded Purple Annex was over ... and Jen looked to see who remained. Vree, Emily, and Patty--they and Jen had all been Novices together, in that hateful Tower ... Dieda and Lia; Haplo, Lia's Warder, with his dog so loved by Nyna, who also remained. Sisqi, Jeana, Laraina, Amanda (and Amanda), Kaitlyn, Kat, the Mistress of Kitchens ... a few of the braver Accepteds; Kelly, Mike, Kathe ... Lyanne, a novice, one who had been sitting on the green couch ... Daystar, one of the Warders ... Davidson, Jen's own Warder, who she knew would stay with her ... and Katassa, in her breeches, holding her stuffed purple dragon she called Colenath nonchalantly. An interesting group, but a group nonetheless. They had been at the core of the Purple. Always faithful to it--no matter it was the Ajah that was so often ridiculed because its purpose deemed "unimportant" by the White Tower. Its members knew that without art, so much would die. Tar Valon itself was a city of art, its buildings reaching for the sky, twining bridges and ancient spiraled domes standing still after thousands upon thousands of years. After so many turnings of the Wheel. Books lasted, stories lasted even when paper dissolved--and so many new stories had been written in the Ages past! The Tower plainly could not see that fiction had traveled well beyond Jain Farstrider and its like. Countless plays were produced, countless theaters erected to house performing companies. Music was reaching new heights in this day, in this era and Age, music that was so completely different from everything that had been before.
The Purples were radicals. The Tower didn't like that. The Tower didn't like change. They were stoic and steadfast in old ways that were becoming outdated. They would not progress. They could only dissolve.
"In this," Jen continued as if most of those who had once thought they were dedicated to their Ajah had not just left the building, "we are to form Ajahs of our own, to represent the various aspects of arts in today's world. These Ajahs will be of varying shades of purple ... to remind us that we are all still Purple, still bound together in our minds, hearts, and souls. We are all still Purple," she repeated, now each word emphasized individually. She could not put that through their heads enough.
"The Purple Tower," Katassa muttered absently.
Jen nodded. "The Purple Tower. Yes. That's good." She turned back to the group. The Purples. She paused--not for any dramatic effect this time, but because she truly wasn't sure how to say it. The phrases she'd planned to use seemed too ... nonchalant for this sort of thing. They were breaking away, not ... not planning a party. This would certainly have its repercussions, both good and bad, in each of its participants. In everyone ...
"I guess the best way for me to say this is just to say it." She sighed, the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"Indigo will represent writing. Lilac will represent fine arts. Mauve will represent dance. Musicians will belong to the Violet. Amethyst will represent the arts of photography, video, and movie making. Theatricians will be divided into Wisteria for the performers and Plum for the technicians. This group," she added, "is subdivided because they truly are two completely different worlds. Now," she continued, without stopping, "I'm well aware that writing can be subdivided into many groups, such as fiction versus non-fiction, and that fine arts can also be subdivided extensively. But at how many subdivisions would they end? I hope you see my point, there." She sighed again. It was all out. She was done here. She could go back to her room now and worry further ... or she could, she decided, she could stay here and help organize everything again ... Jen stayed put. Going back to her room was simply not an option.
"We'll have to begin construction," she began. "On new wings and studios and ... and ... and we'll have to find out which Ajah each of you want to be in, and elect Sitters, and Raise people ... " she looked worriedly at the Accepted and sighed again. The concerns were no different voiced than they were in her head. They were still there.
"Calm down, Mother," Kaitlyn said patiently.
Jen blinked. Mother?
