"I am glad that you did," Nynaeve said. "It showed me something." "It did?"
Nynaeve nodded, back against the wall, holding the blanket in place and closing her eyes. "I realized that if I had to choose between becoming an Aes Sedai and going with Lan, I'd choose Lan. What people call me doesn't change anything inside of me. Lan, however ... he is more than a title. I can still channel I can still be me if I never become Aes Sedai. But I would never be myself again if I abandoned him. The world changed when I married him."
She felt . . . freed, somehow, realizing it and saying it.
"Pray the others don't realize that," Egwene said. "It would not be good for them to determine that you would place anything before the White Tower."
"I wonder if," Nynaeve said, "we sometimes put the White Tower as an institution before the people we serve. I wonder if we let it become a goal in itself, instead of a means to help us achieve greater goals."
"Devotion is important, Nynaeve. The White Tower protects and guides the world."
"And yet, so many of us do it without families," Nynaeve said. "Without love, without passion beyond our own particular interests. So even while we try to guide the world, we separate ourselves from it. We risk arrogance, Egwene. We always assume we know best, but risk making ourselves unable to fathom the people we claim to serve."
Egwene seemed troubled. "Don't voice those ideas too much, at least not today. They're already frustrated enough with you. But this testing was
brutal, Nynaeve. I'm sorry. I couldn't be seen favoring you, but perhaps I should have put a stop to it. You did what you weren't supposed to, and that drove the others to be increasingly severe. They saw that sick children hurt you, so they put more and more of them into the test. Many seemed to consider your victories a personal affront, a contest of wills. That drove them to be harsh. Cruel, even."
"I survived," Nynaeve said, eyes closed. "And I learned a great deal. About me. And about us."
She wanted to be Aes Sedai, fully and truly embraced. She wanted it badly. But in the end, if these people chose to refuse her their approval, she knew she could continue on and do what she needed to do anyway.
Eventually, the Sitters trailed by Rosil walked up. Nynaeve hauled herself to her feet to be respectful.
"We must discuss the forbidden weave you used," Saerin said, stern.
"It is the only way I know to destroy Darkhounds," Nynaeve said. "It
was needed."
"You do not have the right to decide that," Saerin said. "What you did destabilized the ter'angreal. You could have destroyed it, killing yourself and perhaps us. We want you to swear that you will never use that weave again."
"I won't do that," Nynaeve said tiredly.
"And if it means the difference between gaining the shawl or losing it forever?"
"Giving an oath like that would be foolish," Nynaeve said. "I could find myself in a situation where people would die if I didn't use it. Light! I'll be fighting in the Last Battle alongside Rand. What if I were to get to Shayol Ghul and discover that, without balefire, I could not help the Dragon stop the Dark One? Would you have me choose between a foolish oath and the fate of the world?"
"You think you're going to Shayol Ghul?" Rubinde asked, incredulous.
"I'm going to be there," Nynaeve said softly. "It is not a question. Rand has asked it of me, though I would have gone if he hadn't."
They shared a look, seeming troubled.
"If you're going to raise me," Nynaeve said, "then you'll just have to trust my judgment on balefire. If you don't trust me to know when to use a very dangerous weave and when not to, then I'd rather you not raise me."
"I would be careful," Egwene said to the women. "Refusing the shawl to the woman who helped cleanse the taint from saidin the woman who defeated Moghedien herself in battle, the woman married to the King of Malkier would set a very dangerous precedent."
Saerin looked at the others. Three nods. Yukiri, Seaine and surprisingly Romanda. Three shakes of the head. Rubinde, Barasine, Lelaine. That left only Saerin. The deciding vote.
The Brown turned back to her. "Nynaeve al 'Meara, I declare that you have passed this test. Narrowly."
To the side, Egwene let out a soft almost inaudible sigh of relief. Nynaeve realized she'd been holding her own breath.
"It is done!" Rosil said, clapping her hands together. "Let no one ever speak of what has passed here. It is for us to share in silence with she who experienced it. It is done."
The women nodded in agreement, even those who had voted against Nynaeve. Nobody would know that Nynaeve had nearly failed. They had probably confronted her about the balefire directly rather than seeking formal punishment because of the tradition of not speaking of what happened in the ter'angreal.
Rosil clapped again. "Nynaeve al'Meara, you will spend the night in prayer and contemplation of the burdens you will take up on the morrow, when you don the shawl of an Aes Sedai. It is done." She clapped a third and final time.