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The Breaking of the Wheel


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[this is an open RP, though we request if you wish to join, read all that has been posted before, so you know all and can respect the story before you post.]



The world has broken, what was, is no more, what will be has begun to form. Kingdoms rise and fall by the breeze of change, wars rage, wars cease, peace reigns among the lands. It’s been an age since shadowspawn have roamed the lands, an age since the turmoil of the Breaking. 


Land lush with life, seas and streams teaming with fish, ships and trade, farms expand as do cities. With growth comes friction, friction mediated by the Aes Sedai. The Tower brimming with life, lectures and duty. Ajah’s busily about their business, advisors to the newly governing as well as the old, to titan’s of merchants, and helping hand to villages small and large alike. New life brought new studies, the settling of the Breaking brought new prophecies. While all knew an end would come, the Wheel would turn and bring his age to an end as it had before, it surely would not come any time soon. A dragon must be reborn, wars must rage. So much needed to be before it needed to end. 


The Wheel did turn. 


Things did change. 


Gales upturned lakes, drought seared lowlands, trees warped their fruit, sheep turned on their herders, mountains fell, men disappeared from their labor, women wandered from their homes. Legends from yester-year stepped down to touch earth, to fight with men against a re-spawning of the shadow. Aes Sedai were stretched thin, spreading far and wide to settle the turmoil, to fix the strangeness that touched the earth, to search out answers for its cause. But weaves warped, stretched...broke. The One Power’s flow slowed and sped without warning. Saidar and Saidin yearned to be used, but their use rent men and women asunder at a whim. 


A circle was formed to steady the flow. To right the Power. To seek out Angreal, Ter’angreal and Sa’angreal, to find the means to channel reliably once more. They sought, and they found, though they forgot to seek the cause, the Source of the problem. An ignorance that could cost them greatly.

The Wheel wove and unwove, the Wheel was breaking. 




Wind whipped the burning sands of the Waste, stinging exposed skin, though somehow cooling what was covered. A prickly breeze, a welcome relief. Covering the expanses of dry desolate desert was not easy, it was particularly more difficult when tread alone. Dry heat threatened to bake body and soul should thirst not overcome it first. 


Conservation was key, water was gold. So as the lone figure crested the edge of The Spine to stare down at the lush greens of the world beyond the Waste, relief, disbelief and an urgency to rush down to the nearest river flooded her. But long ago she’d learned patience, the value of it, the protection it provided. So, tightening her black veil, tugging the brown fringed shawl over to better cover her face, Norela Paim headed down. 


With spear and water her only possessions, and no Aiel at her back, it was a bit of a relief to descend into Cairhien. The trip had often been more lonely than she had first anticipated, certainly she’d found a home among a few Septs, had learn much. Much more than she could have cared to setting out if truth be told. But time passes, the Wheel turns and it was time. No, it was more than time, it was a necessity to return. The Sisters had to know, it had to be fixed.


More agile than she had been going in all those years ago, not to mention perhaps a stone or five lighter, Norela deftly descended from The Spine. For all her patience, the lessons taught in the Waste, she couldn’t help heading directly for the first bit of running water she could see however.

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With a huff Dynovie slipped the book to its shelf. Nothing. She had been scouring the Royal Library of Cairhein for weeks and for what? Nothing. No information whatsoever to give light to the cause nor the solution to her problem. 


She tidied her brown shawl before again, for the hundredth time or so, looking for another title that might work. Of course, she was not so naive nor so lazy to depend only on books as her sources. But those dusty old tomes and parchments in the old tongues are harder to decipher, and easier to misinterpret. For something as as important as this, the surer the source, the better.


Clutching the gleaming grey stone between her breasts, she sighed. She was lucky to have one with her at all. It was no secret that many would prefer a Green or Yellow to to hold an angreal, considering what they did with the Power,  than a bookish Brown who was more likely to sequester herself in a library all day. Yet her mission, self-appointed though it may be, necessitated this to be used. Many of her peers were now scattered, looking for more and more angreal, sa'angreal, and ter'angreal, simply because they need them. More and more people died unable to control saidar, more and more Novices unable to get raised, and more and more knowledge got buried into the darkness with no one able to unearth it. 


And yet somehow, Dynovie knew, looking for more was not enough. There was a time when saidar and saidin were to be used as freely as air to breathe, when the Source was not spared even when doing the most menial of tasks, as one living in the river bank unsparingly used water. Then what changed? No matter what, she meant to know. 


With new resolution, Dynovie scanned the next shelf. Nothing comes from nothing, she whispered to herself. I just need to know where this one comes from.

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the distinctive crack, grind and eventual slam of the tall old wooden doors to the library echoed through the elongated hall, reverberating its way through aisle and bookcases alike. a noise that normally would have been relegated to the background, especially for a seasoned library dweller as the Brown ajah were. normally. if it were not for the strength and speed of the slam. its very noise denoted hurried panic. 


a note that proved true with the oncoming sound of searching footsteps. steps pausing at each intersection of bookcases, just long enough to note the absence of their target before moving on. "Dynovie sedai!" came the familiar voice of a servant that had been attending Dynovie during her stay. whispered, yet desperate, it was clear the woman was doing her level best to maintain a level of decorum in her search for the Brown Sister. "Dynovie sedai!" Marla breathed in utter relief once she spilled into the aisle that held the Aes Sedai.  out of breath the thin woman attempted not to double over to catch it, which merely resulted in gasped and broken sentences. "there have been reports....reports from the farms....." straightening up Marla looked to the ceiling to get a lungful of air, "an Aiel woman's been spotted in and along the river. she seems to be alone but an AIEL!" the woman's hurried panic began to renew itself even at the thought of it, though she shook her head at herself, needing to get to the main point of her rush, knowing that Dynovie should know, would know what to do. 

"the farms are fearing she's a scout, that more await beyond the Spine." Marla quickly explained, "but it's that....it's that she....they say she uses a brown fringed Shawl to cover her head. a Shawl, Dynovie Sedai."







the rivers water was Creator sent. pure and simple. Norela moved slowly along it these two days she'd been on this side of the Spine. she just couldn't allow herself to drift out of sight of such lovely water, such long missed water.  so sweet and cool and wet. wading into it that first day, feeling her clothing cling to her, the push of the rivers flow, the faint slip of the rocks beneath its surface. 


she laughed. 


she had to laugh. she hadn't thought she'd ever feel it again. she had begun to think it a mirage of memory.  and here it was, here she was. 


leaving sight of the river, just wasn't something Norela could bring herself to do just yet. oh she'd seen the farmers, the occasional person spotting her, her spear, her clothes, only to run off in shock. let them. they'll do as they will either way, Norela would just pull the Shawl further over her head, hunker down and go about her business. which today consisted of cleaning up her small camp, putting out her fire and wandering out into the water of the river. 


there was a large boulder that broke the waters surface about a third of the way into the river, it had called to her the previous evening, it's why she set up camp not far away. 


wading out Norela climbed atop it, folded her legs, rested her spear across her lap, covered her head, and closed her eyes. the sound of the river rush cleansed buzzing thoughts. she needed that. needed to clear her head, to refocus, it was the only way to know the path forward, the path beyond the river. 

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"Dynovie Sedai!"


Dynovie raised her eyebrows at the call, her gaze not leaving her book. "What is it?" she replied without looking up at the Maria girl. Or was it Malia? 


"An Aiel woman's been spotted in and along the river. she seems to be alone but an AIEL!"


That's not her business, really. Any Blue would handle the political side better, and if any battle was involved, perhaps the Green. But Dynovie had no interest dealing with any Aiel at the moment. Especially with more important issue at hand. 


She was about to send the girl away when she heard her continue. 


"They say she uses a brown fringed Shawl to cover her head. a Shawl, Dynovie Sedai."


Finally Dynovie looked up. Now, a Sister, an Aiel Sister, and a Brown at that, promised something important. 


"Alone, you said?" she asked, although not waiting for confirmation. She knew what she heard the first time anyway. 


Of course she had heard of an Aiel Brown Sister who left for the Waste years ago. She wasn't privy to any information about it, since most missions and tasks were handled confidentially, even secretively. But Norela Sedai was a known name, and her being back probably meant something important. 


"Get me a horse, girl," Dynovie said after contemplating, closing her book, "and someone to point me where she was seen." Norela might or might not have anything useful for her research, but she might get news, and perhaps aid. After all, two heads are better than one. 

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"right along the river." old man Jophrie removed his hat, holding it against his chest as he looked up at Dynovie atop the horse Marla had provided her.  a man in his middle years, though one who had looked years older even since he was a boy, was well known in the square and among the shops as the man who knew everything about the farms outside of the city. owning a farm himself, Jophrie Maines felt it his obligation to help his neighbors to the best of his ability, be it offering tips on crops, what merchants to deal with, or how to patch or build their barns, the man was beloved. 


and easy to talk to. which he dearly loved nearly more than his morning tea. 


knowing the people that surrounded him felt comfortable enough to talk freely with him was a point of pride, not to mention conveniently feeding his appetite for gossip. an appetite and service he seamlessly stretched into the city whenever he visited for pleasure or business. so it had to be the Wheels Weaving that brought him into Cairhein that day. that brought him in to cross paths with Marla's husband and directly into helping Dynovie in her needs in locating the Aiel. 


"she hasn't left the shores no more than ten yards since she arrived." he went on, "we've all been keeping an eye on that Aiel, on her and the Spine. I must say it does me a might good that you're looking into this now Aes Sedai, having an Aiel, even just one, lurking about our river has set all the farmers on edge. we don't like it, don't like what it could mean. but we're not dim witted enough to approach the woman. she's armed...she's Aiel."  he shook his head at the situation. "i can tell you right exactly where she is, there's a large willow that dips a bit into the edge of the river about half a mile north of Dorthrops farm. she's been right there, camping for the past day and a half. was there this very morning."  

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