A Bond of Faith (attn. Calia Sedai)

[Cass]

The beard. The bushy brows and bright, merry eyes. The sand-coloured hair peeking out from under his hat.

 

Joem, Cal reminded herself, forcefully, even as her heart jumped at the sight of him and her breath caught in her throat - again. 

 

She'd calculated the logic then and there, at the market in Caemlyn: seeing that distinctive cart with ale barrels on the back just so - wall to wall and rim to rim, lashed together and tied around the rails the exact way her father had always insisted. The wisps of sand-coloured hair peeking out from under the bottom of a well-worn hat. The man's face as he turned his head to check the large, stately black carriage thundering his way. 

 

And she'd replayed the glimpse of that face over and over in her mind many times since the market, knowing it was not the face she'd almost thought she'd seen, despite the shock of his distinctive features.

 

And yet, even prepared - knowing it was not her Da, she was still a little shocked - the resemblance was ... uncanny. At least, this time, the pang of loss and yearning that followed the shock was a little less.

 

"Joem," she smiled brightly at him as he took in the sight of herself and her Warder at the door.

 

His eyebrows rose in quick recognition.

 

"Great-Grand-Aunt Calia-Sedai?" he said the words with the same awe-struck arrangement of syllables he'd applied to her when he was barely five years old, making Cal smile even wider. His voice was a rumble of deep bass now, as her father's and her brothers' voices had been. Had it really been that close to thirty years since she'd seen him last? Since her littlest sister Thayet had passed?

 

The sound of footsteps passing in the corridor behind Joem stopped abruptly at his words. In the same instant, a look of - concern? - washed over his face. 

 

* * *

 

The footsteps rushed in their direction, a dramatic drumming on the wooden floor. Cal took a step back even as Elessar stepped forward, bringing the two of them into a balanced line.

 

A woman appeared at Joem's side, clutching his arm as if for support even as she attempted a curtsy with skirts that were not yet settled. Her blue eyes scanned past the Warder and Sedai, and then her gaze returned, full of trepidation, to meet Calia's own, before glancing back at Joem.

 

"Thayett?" she asked him earnestly.

 

"No, love." Joem patted her hand and looked back to Calia. The woman took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Joem did the same.

 

"Please, Aunt Calia-Sedai," Joem opened the door all the way, "Come in - and be welcome. You're just in time for a pre-service munch." He extended a hand towards Elessar. 

 

"And you too, Warder - Welcome and happy Sun-day Eve!"

 

* * *

 

Sun-day! She'd always loved that celebration. And the night before, even if the shortest night of the year had always been one of the busiest at the inn. Or perhaps because it had always been busy at the inn!

 

Alone in her room after their early supper, Calia smiled and swept her hair back into a no-fuss bun and wrapped it with a scarf. Memories of her childhood Sun-days and the easy afternoon with Joem and his wife Amelie snuck amongst the angst of her and Elessar's mission and the possibility of betrayal within the Tower, and reminded her of the Light in the world.

 

She'd learned much that afternoon about the goings-on in Four Kings since her last visit. And the cause of Joem and Amelie's concern at her arrival - which had turned out to be the biggest surprise yet - she had a great-great-grandniece who could channel! And the girl - Thayetta - the couple's only child - had been sent to the Tower for training just this year.

 

Calia shook her head again in wonder. She'd been shown a portrait of Thayetta - who indeed looked a lot like she imagined Thayet would have at the age of fourteen...

 

Cal couldn't say how close the resemblance actually was with much certainty though - much knowledge of her sister's lives had been lost to her, swapped for years and years of learning just what it meant to be, and how to become, a 'servant of all' in the Tower. 

 

As she'd told Elessar quietly after they'd retreated to their rooms, in her memories, Thay's actual image jumped straight from a sobbing ten-year old on the day she had left for Tar Valon to a competent young assistant inn-keeper surprised by the arrival of her long-lost siblings on the eve of her twentieth name day. And Calia's time in training had been relatively short! But as much as she loved and had missed her little sisters terribly, especially on name-days and when their giggles and chattering, or light snores were absent in quiet moments before sleep, by the year Thayet had been turning fourteen, almost-Accepted Calia had already suffered enough switching, chores and shame to last an entire Aes Sedai lifetime. And she knew very well that there was never an acceptable excuse or lack of punishment for a Novice caught leaving (or even caught talking about leaving) the Tower grounds. Not even for a quick trip to the City itself. Not even to celebrate sibling name days with them, as dictated by tradition... 

 

"Even that was enough for a lesson very well learnt!" she'd recounted. "Certainly enough that any thoughts of visiting home before being raised were completely and utterly whipped right out of existence from there on in!"

 

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as her hands recalled the repetitive sting of soapy scrubbing-water in split knuckles and her buttocks recalled the white-hot pain of swift switchings across unhealed welts. 

 

"But still," her voice became a quietly mischievous murmur, and disappeared into the lingering smile. 

 

She had been of a mind to leave the stories and explanations there for the time being, but catching Elessar's expression at her unexpected smile had made the beginning of her grin an even wider mixture of defiance and sheepishness.

 

A similar grin crept over her face again as she continued getting ready, enjoying the newest link to that old, cherished memory. She didn't know if Elessar would ever question such a mix of her feelings aloud, but she'd been happy to elaborate in any case - clearly Elessar was getting under her thick Aes Sedai skin if she was willing to simply let him in on one of her most tight-lipped secrets!

 

"So, I may have learned better than to try and ever visit my family or sisters here before being properly raised," she'd said.

 

"And Light, I'd never, ever tell the Mistress of Novices this, but I might never have completely regretted the reason I knew that so well - regardless of the punishments she piled on me! I swear, sneaking into the city to find an inn with Kaylan and the twins on our first free day after their arrival will be worth it until the day I die!"

 

Even now, standing alone in her old bedroom, thinking of the many moments lost and the many years that had passed, she cherished those borrowed-with-interest hours of freedom that had been stolen and spent so joyously as a wayward Novice in the heart of the old White Flame.  

 

And now there was a new Novice in the family. A fire had kindled in Calia's heart at the sight of the portrait and the stories Joem and Amelie had told them of Thayetta. Despite her habit of maintaining appropriate Aes Sedai distance from kin and emotions for the last three decades, and despite not knowing the girl, nor exactly how similar the features of her younger great-great-grandmother were to the face in the picture.

 

"Here," Calia had thought, was yet another reason why Elessar and herself had to succeed on their mission, and another reason why another vileness could not be allowed...

 

Tonight though, she'd decided to serve the Light a little differently and to focus on another job whilst Elessar hopefully relaxed and enjoyed the night's entertainment - simply because she could. 

 

She would serve, as always.

 

But for at least some of the night, she'd be helping out more as a serving-woman again than an Aes Sedai and servant-of-all. Amelie had been half bemused-half horrified at the idea, but Calia had refused all alternative suggestions. Truth be told, she was looking forward to the distraction of the long-ago-familiar change. She grinned again, checking her reflection quickly in the looking glass she passed out into the hall to wait for her bonded.

 

She looked appreciatively at the tidy hall as she quietly closed her door and set her wards. The family had done well with the inn and the stipends she sent them via select eyes and ears since Thayet's death. And in turn, Joem and Amelie had done the same, it seemed. With quietly-bubbling happiness, Calia had noted that of all the establishments in the town, this one still remained the cleanest both inside and out.

 

To boot, the orchard-garden was still bearing a good amount of fruit, and there was even an entirely separate alehouse off to the side of the yard. And despite the lack of patronage at the hour Calia and Elessar had arrived, sounds of chatter now buzzed up the stairs from the common room and cheers and clinking tankards seemed determined to crowd their way through the shuttered window. She knew just by the cadence and volume of voices that the Queen would stand full tonight. Obviously, even despite the twist of Shadows stirring in the world at present, patrons were still eager to celebrate the longest day of the year. It was enough to keep anyone hopeful, and any family member proud. 

 

And, Cal found, she she was hopeful, and proud, despite the time that had passed and the distance that existed between her old life and the one she had chosen to lead. And she was glad to be sharing these new-old experiences with Elessar, linked as they were. She hoped he would enjoy himself during their stay. And in the same instant, she realised that, as stoic and as used to Aes Sedai life as she had become with age, and as much as she had never thought she would bring another Warder into this house, or her heart, it was ... a welcome comfort... to still find oneself connected in the spaces where connections belonged, but had become stretched thin, and thinner still, by time. 

 

She hadn't been in the hall for but a second before her gaidin exited the room adjacent to hers. She smiled warmly at him.

 

"Nice of you to join me, Warder-mine!" her grin was teasing as she turned with him towards the stairs.

 

They walked as one though, the sincerity of her words flooding through the bond with feelings of gratitude and the hope for Life!

Edited June 8 by Cass

[Elessar]

  .. In Honour of Maragaine ..

►▼◄

 

Lightning flashed across the heavens

 

and thunder crashed

 

shaking the world in its inner folds, as powerful, valiant horses, bred for battle, bore Oceans of Green Ajah Sisters to War!

 

Their green cloaks streamed behind them like raised banners, and a hundred Warders or more rode at their side - t h u n d e r i n g - across the barren lands of the Blight!

 

Before them awaited a Battlefield of Death, but they rode on proudly, strongly, unyieldingly, with Passion, Life, Strength and Hope, the vanguard of the main White Tower Forces; their Battle Ajah banners held high, ready to fight for the Light and vanquish the Shadow in this long prophesized Last Battle!

 

!Tarmon Gai'don!

 

●

 

Opposing forces of Dreadlords, Darkhounds, Myrddraal, Trollocs and Darkfriend soldiers in uncountable numbers met them head on, like an avalanche of Darkness; and the Power unleashed as swords clashed with swords, axes struck axes, and lightning fires of the One Power crashed in the skies above as the thunder kept roaring made the earth tremble in its heart.

 

This was what they had trained for.. what they had lived for.. what the Battle Ajah, of all the various Ajahs of the White Tower, had always stood in readiness for.. and for Calia Aes Sedai and Elessar Gaidin, storming forwards in the endless Sea of Green, this was the moment they had been waiting for!

 

Elessar’s blade was raised high as he screamed proud and fierce battle cries of Kandor, his nation of origin, and Calia’s eyes sparkled like sapphires as never before, her whole face elated and so filled with determination and steely purpose that it almost shone!

 

 

They rode to Destiny.

 

Finally, the time had come!

 

Finally!!

 

 

●

 

Galloping into the Horde of the Shadow, the Kandori Warder’s sword sliced into a Trolloc as he passed and almost removed its arm. His black warhorse Stormbreaker, trained for battle, stormed into the melee and trampled a Darkfriend in the passing as Elessar’s blade struck out at more foes, left and right. Balls of fire streamed across the skies, Dreadlords hurling them at the Aes Sedai who deflected them using various combat weaves, and who retaliated with deadly lightning bolts that struck down amid the Forces of the Shadow.

 

Several Trollocs exploded before him, blood and guts and body parts raining down on him as he rushed by, his sword moving in another arc to behead a brute of a Darkfriend who tried to thrust his sword into his horses’ side. The evil minion managed to duck just in time, the Warder’s sword cutting the air above him, but then he was destroyed by a Green Sister’s deadly combat weave of Saidar.

 

A little further ahead a Trolloc with its animal snout suddenly stepped into the horses’ path and swung its huge battle-axe in an arc and smashed in the face of an oncoming Warder, but was then engulfed in flames from a furious, screaming Aes Sedai who threw lightning bolts at the Trolloc until it was utterly destroyed. The Aes Sedai, a tall, regal woman with flowing hair the colour of flame, threw herself into a cluster of nearby Shadowspawn, leaving Death in her wake.

 

Across the Battlefield there was Death and Screams

 

Flames ablaze!

 

Also Sisters of the White Tower and Warders were slain, mostly by Dreadlord attacks but also by Myrddraal and Trollocs, sometimes also by Darkhounds, when they were simply overwhelmed by numbers.

 

 

Blood filled the barren slopes of the Blight.

 

A Sea of Blood.

 

An Ocean of Death.

 

 

●

 

 

Calia, in the middle of the Chaos, hurled Flames of Saidar at an oncoming Myrddraal and it’s black flowing cloak came afire with deadly shrieks. She deflected weaves hurled at her by Dreadlords some way off, shielding herself and her Warder, and used all her learned combat weaves to fight the Shadow.

 

Another Green Sister, a blonde-haired Andoran woman with piercing eyes and a short temper, threw a fireball towards a cluster of Trollocs and Myrddraal and saw to her great satisfaction that they screamed and howled in death though it would take long for the Fade to die completely. Her three Borderlander Warders, tall and strong men, raised their fists high in the air, crying out in elation and celebration of their Aes Sedai’s successful strike, then swung their swords at the attacking Trollocs.

 

Elessar hacked off the head of an oncoming Darkfriend soldier, gave a fierce eagle-snouted Trolloc a mortal wound, and battled a mounted Myrddraal hard, finally defeating the Halfman. The stink of blood and death filled his nostrils but he remained as calm as possible within the Flame and the Void as he battled his enemies. Only his wide eyes showed the thrill of battle that he felt. Calia fought hard and strongly by his side, her valiant mare keeping up with his warhorse, throwing fireballs and other deadly combat weaves at the Shadowspawn and obstacles in their path.

 

With several scores of forceful Green Aes Sedai, they stormed into the heart of the enemy forces!

 

●

 

Elessar, his side now bloodied but not lethally, fought the Shadowspawn from atop his warhorse as time lost meaning, his sword rising and falling endlessly with deadly precision.

 

But the path of Death swerved away from his bondholder then and..

 

 

Suddenly

 

 

.. out of the corner of his eye, Elessar saw - almost as if in slow motion, time slowing down - Calia scream and fall out of her saddle some way off to his side!

 

It happened so quickly that he barely had time to react - was it a lethal blow or weave aimed at her? - as he shouted in her direction and then turned Stormbreaker sharply toward her. A few moments later - but it felt like an eternity - he was beside her, dismounting hurriedly and throwing himself to the ground beside her.

 

The battle crashed on around them, the skies filled with fire and lightning, the battlefield filled with screams and horror, but for Elessar it was as if the whole world was gone.

 

All that was left was Calia. She was all that mattered to him right then.

 

●

 

Shouting worriedly to her if she was all right, looking for any signs of injury though she lay on her side and it was difficult for him to tell, feeling her pain through the bond, he took her in his arms and cradled her to his chest. She looked paralyzed, her body limp, her pulse slowing.. and she only stared up into his dark eyes, a solitary tear running down her cheek..

 

..then another tear.. her eyes sad.. oh so sad..

 

Oh Calia! Elessar thought, his soul dying.

 

His heart bled tears.

 

He held her close, only now seeing the hole in her chest, as the light of life left his dear Aes Sedai.

 

The bond snapped.

 

In the Storm of Death around him, her Warder was alone, drifting like a leaf.

 

●

 

Touching his dead bondholder’s cheeks caringly, he kissed her forehead and closed her unseeing eyes.

 

Forgive me, my bonded.

 

Forgive me, Calia.

 

 

Then

 

 

.. the Blood rage took him.

 

His dark eyes going black,

 

Elessar of Kandor was Death! incarnate as he stormed into the Shadowspawn like a ferocious Whirlwind, no care left in the world for his own safety

 

only intending to take as many of them as possible - I will kill them all!! - with him into the Beyond!..

 

●

 

The blonde-haired, green-eyed woman looked down at the corpse and a small smile came upon her lips.

 

“Lady Carahna”, she whispered deviously as a cold northern wind made the banners on top of the castle walls ripple, “I guess you should not have taken my advice, after all.”

 

The Noble Lady’s face was twisted in death, one eye missing and her jaw crushed by a Trolloc’s hammer. Her long dark hair was cluttered by blood, her dress was torn and her legs bloodied. There was nothing noble about her now. Taking the fight to the Shadow army had been a huge mistake, of course, just as Sirih had planned. The five hundred men the Noble Lady had sent to attack the oncoming force had been slaughtered. Myrddraal, Trollocs and Darkfriends had waited in the night and had ambushed the castle soldiers. The remaining three hundred soldiers protecting the castle and town had had no chance. Lady Carahna had fought valiantly, a warrior woman to the core, but had not been able to dispatch of two Trollocs coming at her from opposing sides. Her death meant the remaining five dozen valiant castle soldiers lost all hope but they fought to the last man, Borderlander-proud as they were.

 

Afterwards, all that remained was blood and death.

 

The Trollocs feasted on the dead bodies, their huge cook pots brimming with spices and liquids and meat and the smell wafted across the castle grounds like an echo of death. Sirih turned away from the Trollocs, disgusted by the eating frenzy, and walked toward the Myrddraal in charge. The Fade was wearing black armour with overlapping scales and a black cloak which did not stir in the wind. It was muscular with lank black hair and waxy-white skin. The eyeless face turned toward the approaching woman and she felt its condescending look. She could not quite rid herself of the fear she always felt when in the presence of these Halfmen, but she kept up the pretence.

 

●

 

“I did as I was ordered”, she said curtly, looking at a space just to the left of the Fade’s face. “I have served the Great Lord well.”

 

The Myrddraal remained silent as it watched her closely. These Darkfriends were useful after a fashion, it thought, but the Great Lord should be careful since these.. humans could not always be trusted or counted upon. This female had performed well, however.

 

“The Great Lord is pleased”, the Fade hissed between jagged teeth before waving her away.

 

She was just as glad to get away from this Halfman Battle Commander and return to her own room in the castle. This part of the building had not been much damaged by the fighting and as she closed the door behind her she shut out the sound of feasting Trollocs and post-battle celebrations. Removing her cloak, she sat down in one of the chairs and poured herself a drink of red wine. The vintage was not the best but it would do.

 

Sipping from her glass, her mind went back to that time five years earlier when she had pledged her soul to the Great Lord of the Dark. She had felt the Shadow spreading in the Borderlands, a power that one would not be able to withstand, and she wanted to be on the winning side for once. Good, Evil - it meant little to her. What mattered was survival. And so she had become the first member of this Kandori Darkfriend-cell.

 

“Here’s to you, Lady Carahna!”, she said loudly, raising her glass in salute. Sirih’s eyes sparkled like glistening emeralds.

 

●

 

Darkness filled the sky above Falme.

 

They had been playing cards all evening and he kept losing. He had lost more than he could afford and he knew his wife would berate him for it. Damn! He had never been a master card player but this evening he had lost much more than usual.

 

He just could not understand it. How could all his luck have run out?

 

His older mate, Feran, had done much better. He had only lost 80% of his money. Sighing heavily, Erath looked at the last coins on the table before him and decided to go all in. The other players, seeing his look, grinned, recognizing it, looking forward to getting the last of his money, but he tried to ignore them.

 

His three queens had to be the winning hand!

 

●

 

Smoke filled the private chamber but he ignored that too. His mate loved his cigars and they were used to the partial haze, or at least so they pretended.

 

Studying his cards closely, he made up his mind. Just as he was about to make his bet..

 

 

Something

 

 

made him stop..

 

A moment of utter silence..

 

 

but then the table in front of them seemed to tremble slightly..

 

 

Gazing at it closely, Erath thought for a moment that it had just been his imagination. But then it happened a second time. And a third! And this time the beer glasses started rattling. Staring at the other men seated around the card table, he saw their eyes widen too in surprise.

 

The glass before him started moving on its own. A few inches, a few more. He stared, spellbound.

 

But when the cards started dancing on the table, following the rhythm of the men’s heartbeats, his jaw dropped to the floor! The Black Queen of Spades danced opposite the Red Queen of Hearts, bouncing on the table for several long moments.

 

And when the Black Queen suddenly changed direction, pointing straight at him, he gasped but could do nothing more as the card flew straight at his throat, severing the common carotid artery or jugular vein, killing him where he sat.

 

His blood flowed onto the black card in streams of red, painting the Black Queen in crimson.                                                                                                                                                                                          

●

 

It was early evening, twilight having come and gone, as Nadhene Carahnas, the Watcher of the Seals, The Flame of Tar Valon, the Amyrlin Seat leafed through the ancient texts, written by White Tower historians in Ages past, and tried to gain courage.

 

She was a short woman, 5 ft 3 inches tall but what she lacked in height she more than made up in forcefulness. Arad Domani, she had short brown hair, piercing brown eyes and high cheekbones. One hundred twenty years old, she wore her ageless features with pride and had been Amyrlin now for fifteen years. Raised from the Gray Ajah, she had managed to control the Hall of the Tower to such an extent that Sitters had spoken behind her back of an Amyrlin of steel and tact, partly in admiration, partly in frustration. She had long been aware of these whispers but they had only pleased her. If she managed to run the White Tower through strength of character combined with some cunning, then that would do.

 

Some of the Ajahs had been against her becoming Amyrlin from the start though; the Red, not surprising, since they most often only supported their own candidates, the White, more surprising, since they rarely bothered that much with Tower politics, focusing on logic and common sense, besides study, as they usually did. The Yellow and Brown had been neutral on the matter. The greatest support she had gotten from her own Ajah, the Gray, the Green and the Blue. It had been enough to tip the scale and she had prevailed.

 

And so she was the Amyrlin, the supposedly strongest Aes Sedai in character and judgment, strong in the One Power and wise in its usage, she was their Mother and the one everyone looked to for strength, wisdom and guidance.

 

And yet, at the moment she felt like a ship adrift on the ocean, uncertain of herself and of her choices and decisions.

 

●

 

She could not appear weak though; that could be the death knell for her time as Amyrlin. The Hall would act if they felt the Leader of the Aes Sedai was too weak or unsuited to the position. Their scheming would increase and they would move to remove her as Amyrlin. And that would certainly not do. So, she had to give the impression that she was strong, certain and forceful. But deep inside she had doubts and wondered if her latest decisions had been the best.

 

She was alone in her personal chamber, seated in a high-backed chair by her work table which was lit by two candle lights, one on each side of the old parchments. The stole striped with all seven Ajah colours that she wore as a symbol of her station felt heavier than usual. She had been absent-minded all day and had retired to her chamber early, after saying goodnight to her Keeper and friend, Tarah. There were so many things on her mind and she felt inadequate to the task.

 

Were those who criticized me for lack of judgment right? She wondered, running over in her mind the latest proposals she had given to the Hall. Am I overreaching as some of the Sitters believe?

 

Her latest proposal had indeed been bold. But what other choice did they have, in truth?

 

She needed the courage and wisdom of former Amyrlins and other Aes Sedai who in the past had faced great challenges with dignity, strength and power. And so, she had spent the last few evenings delving into old histories, trying to get inspiration, clarity and some wisdom.

 

If I am wrong, she thought sternly, brushing her hand through her hair, it could be the death of us all!

 

●

 

Qariahna stared out the window of her room on the third floor of the Ocean Mistress inn in Mayene. It was one of the largest inns in the city, clean and stylish. It was one of the most expensive too, but cost was not on the Chosen’s mind.

 

It was late afternoon and intermittent clouds littered the sapphire-blue sky above. She ran a hand through her long dark hair and enjoyed its softness. It was always that way after a long, hot bath. She could still smell the herbs that had been in the water, that lovely scent of Solariah, the flower of spring.

 

And that always made her think of home.

 

V’saine.

 

And the magnificent flower gardens of R’hien’kahrt, close to the Collam Daan, the great university of silver and blue domes that no other had ever bested. A huge elaborate garden with beautiful sections of trees and flowers of all colours; from Orange to Purple; from Maroon to Teal; from Yellow to Green. And everything in between.

 

In a myriad of exquisite combinations and scents, placed in elevations and axis in a way which sometimes defied gravity and people’s senses, in a kaleidoscope of colour and breathtaking beauty.

 

People had come from all over the world to experience these famous, stunning flower gardens, enhanced by the One Power.

 

The memory made Qariahna smile, but her smile was as always tinged with regret. For her home that was gone for all time. For the world that had irrevocably changed.

 

Not for the first time she thought this Age was a pale shadow of what had once been.

 

●

 

Brushing those thoughts away, she focused on what she could see in the distance. She glimpsed several ships at anchor at the docks and what looked like a Seafolk Raker, long and sleek, heading into the Sea of Storms. There were a couple fishing boats coming in with their cargo and people running to and fro on the docks.

 

In the nearest streets she saw vendors hawking their wares and people rushing to buy. Carriages drawn by horses disappeared in the distance, probably Noblemen out on errands. And people of all kinds - local or foreign, rich or poor, adults and children - went about their own business. It was a typical late afternoon in this city-state of Mayene.

 

The Chosen stood there thoughtful for a long while, also considering her missions here in Mayene and what she had accomplished, before finally returning to the old wood desk at the other side of the room.

 

Seating herself in the comfortable low-backed chair, she dipped her pen in ink and continued writing the letter she had begun earlier in the day.

 

 

It was addressed to:

 

Ledosian Anarigo, High Lord of Tear

 

It began:

 

Thank you indeed for your invitation, Lord Anarigo. It is most gracious. I am sure we will find something we have in common. These are exciting times..

 

●

 

When she was finished writing some time later, she put the pen away and opened the hidden drawer underneath the table. Removing a small leather pouch, she opened it and stared greedily at the object within. It was a small marble white figure of a woman wearing a sword and a crown. Touching it tenderly, she tried to keep her elation at bay. This was the main reason she had come to Mayene.

 

To acquire the Thalion, this ancient Angreal long thought lost.

 

It was unique in that it could be used by both men and women who can channel. Such objects of power that could be used by both had been rare even back in the Age of Legends. They were almost unheard of in this time and Age.

 

When she had heard whispers from her personal Eyes and Ears in the South that an object sounding very much like it had been discovered, by chance, in a sealed iron box in a hidden, secret vault in a Mayene Nobleman’s private library, she had decided right away that she had to have it in her possession. It was far too valuable to fall into the.. wrong hands. And so necessary steps had been taken.. and the object acquired.

 

And now it is mine. The thought made Qariahna’s pulse rise and her near-black eyes sparkle with glee.

 

●

 

Calia and Elessar were welcomed by a merry-eyed bearded man with bushy eyebrows. Sand-coloured hair was peeking out from under his hat and he looked surprised to see them but not unfriendly. He greeted Calia in a familiar way, giving Elessar the impression that they had met before. His bondholder smiled brightly at the man and it pleased the Gaidin that what could have become a very awkward situation had been avoided.

 

The sudden sound of footsteps passing in the corridor behind the man stopped abruptly at his words. In the same instant, a look that Elessar read as slight worry washed over his face. The footsteps rushed in their direction, a dramatic drumming on the wooden floor. Calia took a step back even as Elessar stepped forward, bringing the two of them into a balanced line.

 

A woman appeared at the man’s side, clutching his arm as if for support even as she attempted a curtsy with skirts that were not yet settled. Her blue eyes scanned past the Warder and Sedai, and then her gaze returned, full of trepidation, to meet Calia's own, before glancing back at the man beside her, at Joem.

 

Words and glances were exchanged, of which Elessar understood little, though he sensed from Calia’s posture that she understood. They were welcomed inside, the man extending a hand towards the Gaidin.

 

"And you too, Warder”, he said, a rumble of deep bass in his voice, “- Welcome and happy Sun-day."

 

●

 

Elessar was pleased that Calia seemed to take it all in her stride.

 

Meeting her relatives who she might not have seen in years. And replacing potential awkwardness with warm smiles. Something had passed between them - a name had been mentioned - but once inside everyone seemed friendly and at ease. He wondered how long it had been since Calia had met these relatives but it was her story to tell. Again, the age perspective between the Aes Sedai of more than a hundred years and these people was.. daunting. Or perhaps it was just so in his mind.

 

They had an early supper, one which Elessar enjoyed a lot - and which he praised, making Amelie smile with barely hidden pride - and afterwards he spent some time alone in the guest room, understanding that Calia would appreciate some time on her own with her relatives. He thought he could feel her gladness through the bond, smiles for being back in the place where she grew up, and that made him smile too. He thought she deserved some smiles and happiness in these dire times. To live! Once again, the thought struck him that it was indeed for such moments they were fighting!

 

They retreated to their rooms but first Calia spoke to him some more about her past and her little sisters. Elessar listened carefully and did not interrupt her as she talked. He appreciated her honesty when she talked of her time as an Accepted and then visiting her sister many years later. Leaving the White Tower without permission before being Raised had serious consequences and there would be serious lessons learned.

 

When he was alone, Elessar thought about what she had said and then spent some time sharpening his sword, an activity which also gave him time to think about their journey this far and what lay ahead. Ebou Dar lay countless miles to the south and there was no certainty that it would be their end destination. They would travel as far as needed to complete their mission.

 

●

 

Later he felt Calia approaching, the bond telling him she was only seconds away, and so he put aside the short story he had been reading (an amusing humorous piece called “Is Lugard really as shifty as people say?”) and exited the room adjacent to hers. She smiled warmly at him and he smiled back at her.

 

"Nice of you to join me, Warder-mine!" her grin was teasing as she turned with him towards the stairs. Inside though, they were one, and the sincerity of her words flooded through the bond with feelings of gratitude and the hope for Life!

 

It made his smile widen - and he felt the Oneness between them.

 

That special connection.

 

A Passion and Gratitude for Life indeed!

 

“I would have it no other way, my bonded Aes Sedai”, he replied with a grin and a wink as they descended the stairs. Their unity flowed through the bond with sincere feelings of Life!

 

●

 

Entertainment at Joem and Amelie’s inn included a gleeman in the Common Room telling stories and playing his flute. Wearing a cloak made of many colourful patches as was tradition in his trade, he was Andoran by his looks, a fair complexion, blue eyes and blond hair, a tall man who smiled a lot and who truly enjoyed entertaining. After some jaunty tunes he started singing and telling stories. The inn’s guests showed their appreciation by banging on tables and cheering the gleeman on. Some of the local patrons who wished for an even more lively atmosphere were in the alehouse next door, a separate building that Calia had told Elessar about, but the Common Room was almost packed too which showed the popularity and sincerity of Joem and Amelie’s hospitality.

 

Several of the gleeman’s stories were appreciated (stories of princes running away with blacksmith’s daughters and being hunted by her angry brothers or one-legged prostitutes having it on with one-armed dwarfs bringing much laughter) but the one that was most special, the one that captivated them all the most, was the one about Maragaine, the legendary Queen of Andor.

 

Elessar smiled inside, knowing how appropriate it was for the gleeman to sing of Maragaine in this place. Here in Four Kings where she had battled hard for Andor.

 

●

 

The Warder knew quite a bit about her from history books. She was said to have been the fifth Queen of Andor, succeeding Queen Termylle in FY 1054. There was some uncertainty as to whether Maragaine was Termylle's daughter, though several historians suspected as much, but she was without doubt a descendant of Queen Ishara Casalain, the founder of the kingdom of Andor.

 

In FY 1063, during the War of the Hundred Years, Andor faced the gravest threat to its survival since its founding when Four rival Kings, envious of the growing power of Andor, united their armies and invaded the kingdom from the west, marching on Caemlyn.

 

The battle that ensued was to be known as “The Battle of Four Kings”. Queen Maragaine bravely led the Andoran army into battle, meeting them some distance west of the River Cary. In a furious battle, in which Queen Maragaine is often depicted personally leading a charge, the Andorans broke the invading force and routed it, securing the future survival of the kingdom. The Andoran town of Four Kings later grew up on the site of the battle, thereof its name.

 

The gleeman’s voice rose in pitch as he sang the name of the Queen, drawing in all the inn’s captivated guests there in the Common Room.

 

 

A name that would not be forgotten in Andor. A name remembered in honour and pride.

 

The Nemesis of Four Kings. The Queen who Conquered for Andor.

 

Maragaine

 

●

 

►▼◄

 

Queen Maragaine: The Battle of Four Kings

 

Four Kings with armies fought

To vanquish the Andoran foe

Numbers would count, they thought

But resistance was strong, even so

 

Envy of Andor’s might

United the armies in steel

Certain of victory bright

Attacking with force and zeal

 

The White Lion banner held High

With screams of Andor! Around

Forward! Our Queen! The Cry

Echoed on the Battleground

 

Sword at the ready, they Charged

Maragaine leading the Way

Bloodied death they Discharged

Strategy giving them Sway

 

Her blonde hair streamed in the Wind

Her passionate face glowing Strong

A storm unleashed and Twinned

By soldiers’ courage, for Long

 

To me! She cried in Force

Fighting for her kingdom with Strength

Behind her the army, on Course

Pride in their eyes, at Length

 

Like a Warrior Queen of Old

Maragaine’s eyes Blazed

Brave as few and Bold

She destroyed the threat they Faced

 

 Forward the White Lion! For Andor!

Were the battle cries of Might

At Four Kings so says the Lore

Maragaine conquered in Light!

 

►▲◄

 

▀▄

[Cass]

"And HURRAH -!" several voices shouted in unison as the gleeman finished his tale of Maragaine's stand.

 

"- HURRAH FOR ANDOR AND FOR THE LIGHT!" thundered back every Andoran in the common room, raising clenched fists to the sky and banging tankards on the table. Calia's voice was just one of the many loud and proud among them.

 

"Here! Careful, lass -!" the man at her elbow leaned away, shooting her a horrified look as she shouted and shifted her full tray of apple-ales into one hand, pumping the other towards the sky along with the rest of the room. 

 

"- You'll be spilling the drinks..." he finished, eyes widening in surprise as she managed to keep a deft grip beneath the tray, balancing it with apparent ease despite the awkward angle and the exuberant action. Calia let her laughter join the chorus of cheers that followed the Andoran chant and then turned her blue eyes to the man in question.

 

"And cheat my good lord of the cost of a full mug?" she grinned mischievously, swinging a drink from the tray and slipping it into place in front of him without spilling a drop, "Not I!" 

 

"Well then!" the merchant looked her up and down, rubbing his beard and noting her hand on her hip with a chuckle. "True enough that there's no such thing as cheatin' on a  Sun-day!" he said, sliding a silver coin in her direction and taking the mug with a smile.

 

Calia's free hand captured the coin and dropped it into the front pocket of her apron as easily as if she really had continued serving at the Queen's Stand all these long years. "Not on my watch, at least!" she quipped, melting back into the throng with an answering smile as soon as he began to grin. 

Amelie and Joem had forewarned that it would be a busy, and likely understaffed night. And they had certainly not been wrong. The buzz of energy filling the common room was everything Calia remembered it to be on nights such as this, right down to the sound of clinking mugs, hearty laughter and the accompanying bright notes of the gleeman's flute - and more. She wove her way through the clusters of customers serving food and drinks in turn, moving from table to table with purposeful steps that seemed almost choreographed into a dance. If she had surprised herself with just how easily she'd slipped back into the role of lively serving girl, she didn't let it show in the slightest on her face.

 

She moved from table to table, her tray full of frothy mugs of ale or steaming plates of food, her steps light and deliberate, avoiding stumbling patrons with ease. And when she passed Elessar, it made her chuckle inside to give him a cheeky wink, like she'd seen so many a serving girl do before her, in every inn they'd frequented thus far. 

 

●

 

As the night wore on and the apple-ale flowed freely, the patrons of the Queen's Stand grew more joyful and boisterous, more prepared to take advantage of the holiday than perhaps they had originally feared with all the world's strangest and stranger goings on.

 

Calia stepped outside towards the alehouse and garden to find the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced apple ale and the sounds of raucous laughter, music, dancing and the clinking of tankards. A trio of minstrels played a lively tune near the bonfire, their melodies coaxing feet to tap and bodies to dance. In the alehouse, as in the Common-Room, the wooden roof-beams were strung with garlands and other greenery, in tribute to the power of the Light and the sun. 

 

The bonfire burned bright and fierce near the center of the yard, flames dancing ever-higher into the night sky as it defied the darkness and kept watch for the Light. Children darted here and there between adults, their laughter ringing out as they played game after game in the firelight, the sounds of mirth mixing with the crackling of the fire and hum of conversations. Townsfolk and travelling merchants mingled on the lawn, sharing stories and toasting the shortest night of the year. Night deepened and yet the bonfire's glow seemed to grow, pulsing with the rhythm of the music, challenging the shadows and casting light into their world.

 

"Oi, Lass!" a burly merchant with a twinkle in his eye and a flush of deep red rose across his cheeks called to Calia as she passed, "Put those trays down! A pretty thing like you should be dancing around the fire and under the stars on a night like this!"

 

"Leaving you lot to pour your own drinks?" Calia quipped with a grin as she set a plate of food in front of him. "I think not - someone has to make sure everyone here gets just what they deserve!" 

 

The other patrons at the table guffawed at the rebuff, one of them taking the opportunity and liberty to reach out and hook his arm around Calia's waist.

 

"What if I deserve a dance?" he slurred.

 

Cal tilted her head mischievously and twirled as if dancing dramatically on stage, the movement unraveling her self and skirts from his reach. "Well, if that was the case, I'd think you'd have to promise not to let my friend Elessar, over there", she followed the sense of the bond, nodding her head in the direction of her watching Warder, "catch you trying to whisk me away!" she grinned as the man blanched at the mere sight of her gaidin, and she sent her merriment and mirth at his expression along the bond for Elessar's enjoyment.

 

●

 

Light began to break across the sky in the East.

 

Calia smiled, feeling tired but strangely fulfilled and invigorated by the full night's service. She wondered what Elessar had made of the evening, and of Sun-day eve in this small town. She caught Joem and Amelie's eye as they poured last drinks for customers and prepared to coordinate the setup of festivities for the day ahead. As dawn crept across the lawns, they smiled at her timidly, thankfully, and returned to their work. Calia smiled back with genuine pleasure. It gave her a certain thrill to see her grand-nephew and his wife begin to carry on the traditions they had expanded in the family yard and home for her favourite holdiay.

 

Truth be told, though Calia had passed many Sun-days, in many countries, over many years, she had never really quite figured out which part of the holiday she she preferred - the all-night reveling that defied the darkness until dawn, the peace and rest that followed as Light brightened and blessed the day with the coming of the Sun, or the way that entire towns simply celebrated the strength and joy in Light and made the most of every moment of the longest day of the year from it's zenith hour until sunset.

 

Bit by bit, daytime slowly took hold of the world and the flames of the bonfire dwindled. Calia found Elessar at her side, and together they took a moment to Thank the Light for everything that existed, as tradition detailed, before the bonfire was extinguished. As Cal turned her face to the breaking dawn and softly-spreading warmth of the Light of the sun along with the rest of those gathered, she breathed in the crisp early morning air and smiled at her Warder and the descendants of her sister. Her heart swelled with gratitude for this place, these people, and what seemed to be the simple, enduring joy of Sunday Eve and the true heart of the Light in her old home town, despite the dusty and dour exterior the place showed to the world.

Now, Cal knew, everyone would rest. And in a few hours, when the Sun climbed to its' highest point, each of them would return to honour the turning of the Wheel, and to bask in the strength of the Light once more.

 

●

Edited July 8 by Cass

[Elessar]

    .. A Question of Light ..

►▼◄

 

The hundred feet wide gateway opened right there in the air before the Fortress of Light in Amador,

 

stunning a company of armed Whitecloaks that was ready to depart on a mission

 

and thirty brown-cloaked, fierce-eyed female channelers of the Ayyad stormed through!, weaving Saidar as they threw fireballs and deadly lightning-nets at the defenders and the fortress, stronghold of the Children of the Light!

 

Fervent spiteful shouts of “Witches!” came from several places in the enfolding chaos before the walls and soldiers wearing the white cloaks and iconic shining helmets of their order drew shiny swords and tried to defend against this powerful surprise attack.

 

●

 

The tall and slim dark-skinned leader of the Ayyad, the Amo’hra, her face tattooed in the tradition of the famed Sharan channelers but with the added unique personal triangle-tattoo upon her forehead signifying her high station, threw thunderbolts at the castle walls while also keeping an eye on how things were proceeding along the long line of female channelers. She smiled inside, as always glorying in the feel of Saidar running through her, and as always regretting that she needed to mask some of her power when among these Ayyad Sisters. Khraa’malia she was thought to be and it suited the Shadow’s purposes that she remain so for the time being. It did not matter. What mattered was to carry out the orders she had been given.

 

Bolts of lightning!

 

struck the fortress several times - again and again!

 

leaving destruction in their wake.

 

Watchtowers toppled, explosions abounded and screams and shouts were heard everywhere amidst the dust and the blood.

 

The Amo’hra  erected a protective shield around herself using the One Power and arrows that flew at her hit the invisible shield and dropped aimlessly to the ground.

 

One of the Captains of the Whitecloaks, a tall caped man swinging a shining sword, changed tactics at one point and directed a counter-attack at her, understanding that she was the person commanding the invading force, pointing at her - the tall, slim dark-skinned woman dressed in brown who led the attack - but the mounted Whitecloaks fell before her, their horses dying from deadly weaves and lethal nets cutting their legs from under them.

 

The Children that remained standing cursed the witches, regrouped, made a few weak attempts at attack that went nowhere, and then commands were shouted all along their diminishing line to retreat. They did so in small groups into the fortress. Shields and helmets and white cloaks were turned blood red and dirty, pale smudged faces filled with anger and reluctant defeat stared hard at the hated witches at they shut the main gate behind them.

 

Holding up her arms with finality, her voice of command boosted by the One Power and carrying to all the women along the line, the Amo’hra stopped their advance and the women channelers from Shara came to a halt where they stood, many panting from the exertion, but still holding onto Saidar.

 

There was a deathly silence before the main gate of the fortress.

 

The Chosen Silvahria, in the guise of the Amo’hra, leader of the Sharan Ayyad, grinned broadly, her white teeth shining.

 

The Fortress of Light, stronghold of the Children of the Light, was theirs for the taking.

 

●

 

The Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light, Lord Enthar Mehrin, stared hatefully at the woman before him. The Tar Valon witch! She was a tall and slim woman dressed in brown, of very dark complexion with short curly hair and fierce brown eyes. For a second he wondered where she was from, she had a very exotic foreign look, but he did not really care.

 

He was bound to a chair in his personal chamber by invisible bonds and gagged the same way, unable to move a muscle. He despised the fact that the Fortress of Light had been overrun so easily by these evil Aes Sedai, for they could not be anything else! He had always said to anyone who would listen that one day the evil witches would attack them here in Amador. That they had apparently popped out of thin air right before their gates spoke of powerful witchcraft and now they were going to kill him, he felt sure of it. Their so-called three oaths were meaningless, pure lies of deception, just as he had always known. His only regret was that he would be unable to take some of them down with him.

 

The Amo’hra stared with some amusement at this captured commander of these Children of the Light as they called themselves. His white cloak was full of blood from the..sessions she had had with him.. and his conical helmet lay discarded in a corner of the room. His grey hair was bloodied, his face was swollen and blood also ran into his grey-black beard. There were cuts on his cheeks and on his forehead. He gave her a baleful stare.

 

She lifted the gag of Air from him for a moment to let him speak, but kept all the other invisible bonds in place. He spat at her and cursed her for a witch.

 

“The Council of the Anointed will have you whipped for your evil deeds!” He sneered.

 

She chuckled in response which only seemed to make him angrier.

 

“Do your best, witch - you vile Aes Sedai!”, he said scornfully as his eyes took on the fanatic light and inner fire of his kind. “The White Tower will learn nothing more from me!”

 

“I am no Aes Sedai!” the Chosen in the guise of the Amo’hra spat back, her mouth twisted sourly. “You are a fool if you think so.”

 

●

 

Turning away from the Lord Commander, she picked up a knife from the Whitecloak’s writing table and tested its sharpness. It drew a little blood which made her smile. Sharp indeed. Turning back to face the bound prisoner, she went over in her mind how she had deceived her Ayyad Sisters that this attack was necessary for their cause. She had planted a seed in their minds some weeks before that outlanders had dangerous plans to make war on Shara and they, the Ayyad, needed to quench those plans at the root. The invading army, she had told them, would be a military force called the Children of the Light, fanatics that believed so strongly in their Cause that they would be willing to do anything to accomplish their goals. They hated Darkfriends, followers of the Shadow, and had been indoctrinated to believe that Shara was filled with Darkfriends and forces that would bow to the Dark One. They were a threat that needed to be removed before they moved against Shara.

 

Even in her own mind it sounded a bit far-fetched, but she had gradually convinced several of the more gullible of the Ayyad women of this threat, they had then worked on some of the rest, and finally they had all agreed that action had to be taken. And so here they were, the fortress in their possession, the Whitecloak leader their prisoner. It had taken longer than she had thought to take over the fortress, the soldiers within had fought vehemently and had been in larger numbers than expected, but finally they had given up and the remaining several dozen Children had been taken prisoner, seven of the Ayyad Sisters dead. The remaining twenty-three channelers were proud though of what they had achieved, and the dark-skinned women walking around the fortress smiled to one another, pleased at this victory.

 

But it was just a victory, the battle had not been won. There were several more companies of Whitecloaks out in the land, so the Lord Commander had finally admitted under pain, and the Amo’hra knew it would be difficult to hold this fortress over time. Allies of the Whitecloaks may come to their rescue, not the least military forces of Amadicia but perhaps also other.. mightier friends. The main thing though, for Silvahria and the Shadow, was to lessen the threat of this force of Lightfools in the coming Last Battle, to weaken the forces of Light, and so this mission had served its purpose. They had killed many, many soldiers and several of the leaders of the Children and now it remained to be seen what she was going to do about its Lord Commander. She was tempted to slit his throat and be done with it, or she could of course give him a much more torturous death, but something told her that he would let slip more secrets if she were a little more patient.

 

Walking up to him she stared deep into his eyes, the knife in her hand pointing at his face. “Now then, my dear stubborn Lord Commander”, Silvahria whispered, her voice filled with resentment, as her knife cut into his chin. “Will you answer my second question, or shall I remove your.. say.. left eye..”, her face became sadistic, “and then make you.. eat it?”

 

●

 

“Hey, handsome.”

 

The woman had long blonde hair, an oval face that would have been beautiful if not for some freckles and a not straight nose. It was still pretty and her blue eyes were filled with mischief. There was rose-bloom in her cheeks and she eyed Elessar up and down, clearly liking what she saw.

 

“Wanna fool around a little?” she added, her voice sensuous and inviting.

 

The Warder studied the woman in some detail, noting her tight blue dress (a little too tight and a little too short) and her ample attributes barely hidden by her blouse. His grin was disarming as he said, “Well, in that case, you must not let that serving girl over there”, he nodded his head in the direction of Calia who at that moment was between customers, watching him, “catch you trying to whisk me away.” His grin broadened. “She has been eying me all night and given me suggestive looks.” The woman stared at Calia, weighed her in her mind, and decided to go after an easier - if not better - catch. Elessar chuckled inside and wondered with some amusement if Calia had caught anything of the conversation. He was sure she would have been amused.

 

Earlier there had been a moment when he had seen a somewhat drunk customer grab Calia around the waist. He had watched carefully, ready to intervene, if necessary, but had seen his bondholder twist elegantly out of his reach. She had exchanged some words with the man and had then nodded toward Elessar. The man had looked at the Warder and had blanched, at least that was what it looked like to the Gaidin, and the accompanying feelings of merriment and mirth that came through the bond from Calia made him guess she had said something that was amusing but perhaps not so amusing to the man. He grinned inside, enjoying the playful side to his Aes Sedai.

 

As for Calia’s serving girl role this evening.. it was something he had never expected to experience. Not with any bondholder really. Serving at tables, especially with somewhat drunk and sometimes grabby, rowdy and impolite customers, was as far from something he could imagine a Sister of the White Tower doing. Kings and Queens bowed to Aes Sedai. And here Calia was running around serving drinks and meals as if she had never done anything else. His first thought was that it was scandalous (which it, of course, was if one knew her station in life) and very unfitting.. his second thought was that he had to put a stop to this nonsense.. his third thought was, she will do this over my dead body.. He would simply not let his Aes Sedai demean herself in this way. Seeing her eagerness though when she told him what she intended to do, the glint of playfulness in her sparkling blue eyes, her smile and glow in her face and pleasure at being ‘home’ and among these people, added to a certain Green Sister stubbornness to her jaw, he put aside all his concerns and nodded with a smile. He would not be the one to spoil her evening.

 

He had enjoyed the poem about Maragaine and the joyous applause from the inn’s customers had made him smile widely. He had joined in, understanding the pride these people felt for their homeland and the heroic Queen of the past. He had watched Calia’s skill with trays and glasses with impressed eyes. She had told him some of her past but it must have been many decades since she last performed such duties. Clearly, she had forgotten nothing as she almost danced around the room, swiftly and deftly in every way. Through the evening he kept an eye on her and on the other customers present. She had told him that Four Kings was known for being a place where behaviour, especially toward women, was often very rude though Joem and Amelie, according to Calia, had done much to enforce and grow a reputation for a more ‘well-mannered’ location and establishment. Looking around the Warder saw what she had meant. On the whole, this place was decently orderly. And the place was buzzing with energy, right down to the sound of clinking mugs, hearty laughter and the accompanying bright notes of the gleeman's flute - and more. 

 

●

 

Mid-way through the evening, as he was enjoying the local apple-ale by the bar desk, Calia suddenly swung by his side and gave him a cheeky wink in the passing, like so many serving girls had given him before, and Elessar almost choked on his ale.

 

It pleased the Gaidin to see people enjoying themselves, living a little even in these strange times. Most were unaware of the coming storm and the Shadow Rising around the world and in a way the Warder was glad to let them lead their lives without that added burden. Soon everyone everywhere would have to pitch in if the Darkness was to be stopped, but for now these locals and families in Four Kings could enjoy nights such as this.

 

Outside in the garden,

 

the bonfire burned bright and fierce near the centre of the yard, flames dancing ever-higher into the night sky as it defied the Darkness and kept watch for the Light. Children darted here and there between adults, their laughter ringing out as they played game after game in the firelight, the sounds of mirth mixing with the crackling of the fire and hum of conversations. Townsfolk and travelling merchants mingled on the lawn, sharing stories and toasting the shortest night of the year. Night deepened and yet the bonfire's glow seemed to grow, pulsing with the rhythm of the music, challenging the Shadows and casting Light into their world.

 

This was a celebration of the Longest Day of the year and Elessar knew it was celebrated in many places around the world, especially in smaller towns and villages. It had seldom been celebrated in his home in Kandor, initially for fear of not being vigilant if Shadowspawn decided to raid the place, later it had become tradition to keep any celebrations to a minimum. Life was harsh in the Borderlands and priorities were different.

 

People need some joy in their lives though, Elessar thought as he watched these people enjoying the night. This is what we are fighting for.

 

As dawn broke, Elessar joined Calia by the dying bonfire. They stood together and took a moment to Thank the Light for all life and everything that existed, as tradition detailed, before the bonfire died out. All gathered turned their faces to the breaking dawn, the sun beginning its rise in the horizon, Calia shared a smile - of life, of joy - with Elessar and the others. In her radiant face, a feeling that echoed through the bond, he saw the gratitude she felt for this place and these people, for her home town and this celebration of life. This place would, despite a seeming dusty and dour exterior, always have a special place in her heart.

 

Now it was time to rest, each person filled with the Light, Wonder and Opportunities of a New Day in the Turning of the Wheel.

 

●

 

“Astrophysics is the science that employs the methods and principles of physics and chemistry in the study of astronomical objects and phenomena”, the lecturer tells the class of motivated students.

 

Four-dimensional prisms float high above their heads in colours of blue and white as chemical formulas interchange in an endless line of proton symbiotic revelance.

 

Aran Dheran has been the primary lecturer in this field of scientific research for a decade or more at the Scientific Prime University (SPU) in Emar Dal and his research has been lauded by everyone in the field.

 

“This science”, he continues, his voice loud so it carries to the back of the auditorium“seeks to ascertain the nature of the heavenly bodies, rather than their positions or motions in space–what they are, rather than where they are. We study the Sun (solar physics), other stars, galaxies, extrasolar planets, and the interstellar medium. We also study the quantum space between the realms of matter and anti-matter, where space ends and dark space begins. Emissions from these objects are examined across all parts of the electromagnetic spectrum, and the properties examined include luminosity, density, temperature, spectral velocity, perusion and chemical composition.”

 

“Because astrophysics is a very broad subject,” he concludes, “astrophysicists apply concepts and methods from many disciplines of physics, including classical mechanics, electromagnetism, statistical mechanics, thermodynamics, quantum mechanics, relativity, subpermanent thasing, thermosynthesis, nuclear and particle physics, and atomic and molecular physics.”

 

His distinct voice echoed in her mind through the centuries, a lecturing voice which made you listen attentively to every word. She had listened with fascination, already interested in astronomy and physics, and had studied hard those six long years at university and had become a famed astrophysicist, one of the few top-field women in this field of science.

 

Oh, what wonders we researched! Oh, what discoveries we made and advances that have been lost in time!

 

She remembered the space stations she had lived on; she remembered the journeys to far away stars she had made, making use of the quantum discoveries of inter-space tunnels that revolutionized space travel. She remembered it all and it made her both sad and angry that it had all been lost in the thousands of years between that time of wonder and excellence and this time of.. mediocrity.

 

●

 

Gazing up at the ceiling in her room at the inn in Mayene, Qariahna, once a renowned astrophysicist in the Age of Legends, reminisced and tried to ignore the regrets that also were a part of her. Her eyes, pools of darkness, tightened when she thought of the betrayal of her colleagues who had informed on her when she had pushed the limits on human capability for space travel. To advance, risk needed to be taken and there would have to be some sacrifices made. The leaders of the Institute, fools the lot of them, had disagreed and had warned her about ethics and misconduct but she had not listened, continuing her scientific research. Using the One Power to modify atom-splits to prolong the vital secondary particle divide, she had advanced quantum physics, producing discoveries that she was certain would never be made if one did not accept some loss of life in the process.

 

In the end her superiors contacted the Aes Sedai leadership and through sources she learned that she was to be arrested and tried. Having no choice but to escape, wanting to confront her accusers but knowing it would be in vain, she joined a few likeminded scholars at the Institute and departed quickly, hiding in Shadows for a few weeks. Hearing about discontent elsewhere, and that some rebels were assembling further north, she headed that way and her journey did not end before bowing before the Great Lord of the Dark in Shayol Ghul.

 

Anger and spite had filled her soul in the past weeks, a fury at fools who thought they knew better, at the arrogance they showed when it came to new ideas and to pushing boundaries, and so bending knee to this new power, a power which embraced her talent and her person and what she could achieve, was very satisfactory. Here she would be accepted. Here she would be admired, not scorned. Here she would have power and be able to use it properly.

 

And so the woman and astrophysicist once called Caitriona Sandher Neidhar, who was to be better known as Qariahna, became one of those Chosen to Rule the World Forever.

 

●

 

The Banners of Illian, Twelve Golden Bees on a Field of Green, atop the Palace called the Great Hall of the Council danced in the strong wind coming in from the Sea of Storms.

 

The men streaming out of the council chamber ignored the beautiful blonde-haired woman standing by the door. They had learned the wisdom in not running their eyes lustfully over her sensual body. She grinned mischievously as they passed her by, knowing exactly what they all wanted to do with her. In truth she would not have minded a little.. fun.. but he would not approve. Certainly not. Finally, Lord Sandhar approached her and there was desire in his blue eyes. He wore his dark coat with golden fringes, it was his favourite she knew, and he grinned when he saw her.

 

“Erihna, my darling” he said, taking her hand in his and giving it a gallant kiss. “Have you seduced many young men today?” It was a private joke between them, both knowing she would enjoy mightily seducing lots of young, virile men. “Only a handful today, my Lord” she replied seductively, her green eyes twinkling, drowning in his warm embrace.

 

They shared a hot, inviting kiss on the mouth but then the Lord pulled away. “Erihna, I have some matters to take care of.” He smiled his special smile, the one that always made her go weak at the knees. “But I will see you later, my darling.” Her face glowed in return and she threw him a kiss as she moved away, elegance in motion.

 

Staring at her back, he wished he could go with her and enjoy her.. charms.. but he had another matter he needed to take care of.

 

●

 

Heading down the corridor he turned a corner and walked up to a door. He knocked and waited for it to open. Lord Charon opened the door. There was a sour look on his face but Lord Sandhar was let into his private chamber. It was a matter of etiquette and since Sandhar had asked for a private meeting, Charon had to oblige.

 

He was one of the few Councillors who did not think as highly of Sandhar as many of the others seemed to do. They had fallen under the Lord’s spell, Charon thought to himself. It was something he would never do. He was several years the other Lord’s senior, in his late forties, and his brown hair had grey at its edges. He was also overweight by a fair amount and did not in any way resemble the charming and handsome Lord Sandhar. This added to his irritation.

 

“Lord Sandhar”, he said drily. A slight bow of the head as to an equal.

 

“Lord Charon”, Sandhar replied in the same manner, giving the same slight bow.

 

“Your proposal to move a good part of our armed forces into our border-region in the north was rather .. rash”, Charon said carefully, beginning the conversation. He was going to say foolish, but decided to be a little more tactful. “We ought to have considered the matter further before the motion was passed.”

 

“You think so, Lord Charon?” Sandhar replied with a slight edge to his voice, not liking the man. “Is it not prudent to guard our northern borders when we hear tales of troubles and unrest? The north has been neglected for too long, I believe, and it was time to do something about it.” Sandhar said smoothly.

 

“Troubles and unrest .. , my Lord Sandhar.” Lord Charon said. “That is just rumours .... just rumours ... and we need to be alert should those fools in Tear suddenly decide to war upon us again. You never know with them.”

 

Lord Charon held the neighbouring nation of Tear in as low esteem as most Illianers, and should Illian ever be thrown into a war it would be with Tear, he felt certain of that.

 

●

 

“My Lord Charon”, Sandhar said patiently in reply, “Tear is no threat to us.” He could see from the other man’s return-stare that he did not believe him. It did not matter. “And should Tear at some point in the future become a nuisance,” Sandhar added for the lord’s benefit, “we have enough of our armed forces down here south so we can deal with it. The majority of the councillors agree with my assessment of the situation”.

 

In a somewhat smug voice he added, “Only you and Lords Buran and Keyer were in fact against the motion.”

 

The other man’s lips tightened. Most of the other councillors thought he was a weakling, he knew, but he still had some fight left in him. “Yes, this time we lost. This time.”

 

With those final words and casting the other man a challenging stare, he made it clear their conversation was over.

 

Lord Sandhar nodded. “I understand my hope to get you to join our side was in vain. Have a nice evening.” He gave the other man a slight bow before passing him and leaving the room.

 

As the door closed, Lord Charon went and sat in his high-backed chair. There was something about that Lord Sandhar that put his teeth on edge. He was a sly one, that one, that was for sure, politically very able, but Charon - who came from one of the oldest families in Illian and who had been a councillor for many years - felt in his bones that there was more to it than that. He bears watching, he thought grimly as he poured himself a glass of red wine from a decanter and took a big swallow.

 

Back in his personal chamber, Lord Sandhar walked onto the balcony and stared out onto the twilight of the city. He had not really expected Lord Charon to change his mind, he knew that the other man despised him. It had been politics at play. That he was shown to reach out to his opponents would be smiled upon in the council. Appearance was everything.

 

However, the more he thought about it in the following days, the more he wondered if the older Illianer Lord ought, perhaps, to meet with an unfortunate accident. The ocean currents of the Sea of Storms were particularly dangerous this time of year.

 

●

 

Smashing his knife into the younger man’s throat, blood flowing in rivers down the man’s white shirt, the rough-looking thief with several scars on his face shoved the body out of the way as he continued walking down the dark alley, past the shabby Rogue Hustler inn, the knife back in its sheath at his side.

 

No one seemed to have heard the death scream but then again he did not expect anyone to. Death and murder were a part of Lugard life. It had always been so. Heading down one street and then up another, the thief saw another member of the local Thieves Guild up ahead and gave a small hand signal as he passed him. The job had been done. That was all there was to it.

 

He had been a thief all his life, at least as long as he could remember. His mother had died when he was just five years old, his father having left by then. His aunt had thrown him into the street, unable to take care of another child (she had three herself), and if a kind older man had not taken him in, he would have perished in the Lugard slum. This man it turned out was a thief and he taught the young lad how to pick-pocket from an early age. Soon the boy gained skill and as he grew, he became quite proficient. In his mid-teens he joined the Thieves Guild, first as an errand boy, later as a full member.

 

In the years since he had become one of the Guild’s most experienced and deadly members. It was not for nothing that they had begun to call him Lethal Jim. He was indeed lethal as many people had learned in the years gone by. A killer. An Enforcer. And he took much pride in his craft.

 

It was who he was. It was his life.

 

●

 

Amaranth stared into the abyss between the three standing stones and his violet eyes sparkled with excitement. A keen observer might also have noted the slight twitch to his mouth which indicated that he was not entirely confident. He was all alone though in the stone chamber, only the few flickering lights at intervals along the stone walls keeping him company.

 

Finally, he straightened and took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, his hands holding onto the sides of his silk coat, he filled himself with the True Power, drawing as much as he could handle, glorying as always in the incredible thrill that enveloped him. A red gleam appeared in his eyes for a moment, the burning fire of the True Power shining, but then it was gone leaving a momentary residue, and darkness seemed instead to reflect from within,

 

It is time.

 

Raising his arms, the First among the Chosen spoke commands not uttered in the Stone of Tear for millennia.

 

ER’ANYA I SILEY’HNA VIRUBHEL!

 

Lowering his arms slowly, he waited. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then the standing stones began to glow with an inner fire, stronger and stronger, their inner light soon so strong that Amaranth had to lower his eyes. A buzzing sound then came from the abyss, the darkness between the standing stones, and the Chosen took a step back. Gazing hard at the point between the stones, several powerful weaves at his fingertips, he held his breath as something rose from its dark depths.

 

It was a spectre, a hollow figure all skeletal and cowled in black. Shadows of claws crept out of darkened sleeves and where eyes should have been there were empty sockets with a yellow gleam as if from eyes long lost. The figure appeared to study the mortal before it and pointed toward him. Not many things had ever frightened the Chosen, but this.. being.. made him decidedly..wary.

 

The lights on the stone walls dimmed suddenly and darkness enveloped the chamber. Even so, Amaranth could easily see the spectre, a shadow within shadows. The being seemed to suck in its breath and an icy wind swept over the Chosen. Then came a hoarse whisper, as if a voice coming from a grave,

 

“What is the key, mortal?”

 

●

 

Please, Great Lord, Amaranth thought, focusing on the spectre while holding hard onto the True Power. Aid your loyal servant.

 

VANI’DHEN, RENIE’YSA. SAAL!

 

His powerful words of power, aided by his Master, reverberated in the dark chamber and the lights within the standing stones now beat in response to his command.

 

Raising his arms again, the Chosen channeled, white symbols appearing in the air, cris-crossing triangles that glowed and inter-connected. The spectre seemed to hesitate, its empty eye sockets seeming to search for something.. and as the triangles of deadly light moved toward it, it took a wary step back. Then, as one of the triangles disentangled itself from the rest and sped toward the spectre, the being gave a bone-chilling shriek as Amaranth’s ancient weaves of Banishment caught it in their grip, crushing inwards. Pouring all his might into those weaves, feeling the strain but not letting go, he watched with satisfaction (and, though he would not have admitted it to anyone, some relief) as the spectre became smaller and smaller, becoming a hollow shadow that swirled like dust before the Chosen’s violet eyes. Finally, with a last shriek, the spectre and Guardian of the Dharan was gone and all that was left was silence.

 

Amaranth breathed more easily now. What he had done had never been attempted as far as he knew. That he had succeeded pleased him mightily. The spectre was not dead, the dead could not die, but it had been Banished for the time being and would not bother him anymore. It guarded an entrance that was not meant to be used, a path for what lay ahead.

 

●

 

A dark smile came upon his lips as he closed his eyes once again. Small flames of the True Power danced in the palms of his hands as he gazed at the tall standing stones which stopped glowing, their inner light retreating inside the monuments.

 

Speaking new commands in the Old Tongue

 

ARA’HL! SUDI’TJELMA!

 

the dancing flames increased in brightness, and a prism of Air surrounded him, making the runes running down his coat sleeves glow. Opening his eyes, he spoke a single word and was now in the darkness between the three standing stones, his cloak merging with the blackness of the abyss.

 

The violet of his eyes drowned for a moment in blood-red as he swam in the glory of the ocean of the True Power.

 

Amaranth, the Chosen then clapped once - and was gone.

 

●

 

The Amyrlin closed the book on the table before her and wondered for the hundredth time what she was missing. Somewhere in these many Tower books was the answer she was seeking. She was confident of it! But so far, the answer had eluded her.

 

Running a hand through her newly-washed hair, her mind turned to the other matter at hand. One of the Sitters for the Green had approached her earlier that day, advising that she put aside this plan she had devised and which a majority, a slim majority but majority still, of the Hall had approved. But the Amyrlin would not do so. She knew that plan had its risks but the world was heading toward a precipice, that she felt in her bones, and this action dangerous as it was, was necessary. The Green Sitter had departed without saying another word, her Aes Sedai-face smooth, but her blue eyes burning with fire.

 

I have no other choice. Do I? It was the question she had asked herself ever since the decision had been made and she still saw no alternative.

 

The many-coloured stole about her shoulders felt heavy this evening too. A long strip of silk about a hand wide, it was the symbolic regalia worn over her dress as Amyrlin, leader of the Aes Sedai. She was the embodiment of Aes Sedai and all they stood for. Have former Amyrlins doubted themselves too? She was certain of it, it was human after all to sometimes be uncertain because of difficult choices, hard choices, even if no Amyrlin would ever admit it or if so to very, very few confidants. I must be strong. For myself but most of all for my Daughters. It was how she thought of her Aes Sedai. She was their Mother, after all.

 

Nadhene rose from her chair and started pacing. It was something she had been known for doing ever since she took on the mantle of Amyrlin. This evening was important and she had to work hard to keep the butterflies silent in her stomach.

 

●

 

When, sometime later, suddenly there was a knock on the door to her chamber, she stopped her pacing and stared silently toward the door. Breathing slowly, taking hold of her emotions, she made sure her face was smooth and calm. Then she bade the person enter.

 

Tarah Sanighar, the Keeper of the Chronicles and second in command of the Aes Sedai, stepped into the room and gave a small curtsy to the Amyrlin. She was a short woman, brown of hair and eyes, but staunch and utterly loyal. Nadhene gave her a small smile before her face becoming Amyrlin-serious again.

 

“Mother”, the Keeper began. Her voice sounded slightly uncertain to the Amyrlin’s ears but then again that was not surprising in this instance. “There is an.. envoy from the.. Black Tower to see you.”

 

The Amylin Seat nodded silently, quenching the rising butterflies in her stomach.

 

This was the moment of truth.

 

The man who entered was in his mid-twenties. Dark hair, dark eyes, he looked pretty ordinary but his eyes were piercing and his face shone with confidence. He wore a black coat with a Gold-and-red-Dragon pinned on the right collar.

 

She stared for a long moment at the pin, thoughts of dread but also hope streaming through her mind, then caught herself, drew herself up in Aes Sedai pride, and shifted her eyes to his face.

 

She knew what he was and what he represented.

 

An Asha’man.

[Cass]

" OF LIFE .  .  ."

 

 

 

_{●●  ●  - ● - ●  ●●}

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The day  spread  softly across  the  world at  first , then  the shroud of darkness slipped back, over the Westlands, racing against the Sun - Just, perhaps - as the  Creator had always intended until   the  Shadows  suddenly,  somehow all  now    * appeared * ||||||

||||||||||||||||  |||||||| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ||||| | | ^●  small _^● | | | |||||| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 

 

●   - \ \/-  ●  -\/ / -  ●  

 

 

Sunday shone over Four Kings, the growing daylight sweeping its way down the Caemlyn Road and along dusty side-streets, filling the ruts and rocky pot-holes with a soft golden glow, highlighting the quiet splendor of the feast-day morning. A gentle breeze lifted and drifted lazily around the town, wending over the mostly empty stables, horse-lots and plots of bare earth where merchants usually parked their wagons wheel to wheel.

 

Traditionally, this was the only day of the year that the crossroads of Four Kings were ever so quiet and tranquil; the only time merchants and handlers rested and locals found respite from the endless clamour of  shouts, calls, curses and work tied to the wagon trains passing to and from Caemlyn or Lugard and the westward mining towns in the Mountains of the Mist. Locals, and visitors who had stopped and stayed on in celebration, all made the most of the expected morning rest, sleeping off the night's ale and other blissful Summer indulgences in preparation for the day's festivities still to come.  Not a single shout from a travelling wagoneer, nor a clanging hammer from a blacksmith could be heard.

 

Occasionally the wind blew a low, wheezy moan or high breathy whistles through the narrow alleyways and tight gaps between buildings. Otherwise, as befitting the morning, the air moved as sleepily and quietly as everyone else, travelling in near silence over the various closed shutters and weathered, whitewashed boards of all the careworn wooden houses lining the street.

 

On the far edge of the town however, the breeze licked its way over the fresh paint of the inn, alehouse and brewery of the Queen's Stand, playing easily across the yard between the buildings and dancing through the apple orchard as if it was the first of the many visitors expected there for Sun-day celebrations. At the whimsy of this gentle guest, strands of green foliage and other Summer decorations fluttered in the rafters of the buildings and tails of coloured ribbons twirled and drifted softly around the waiting maypole. Tiny wisps of wind and ash floated upwards from the cool remains of the evening's bonfire, intermittently adding a light and smoky twist to the otherwise fresh, apple-scented breeze... 

 

 

^{_~   ~_.●.~   _~}

 

The sweet aromas of apple orchard and brewery drifting through the room was as simultaneously arousing and comforting to her senses as it had ever been. 

 

And, yes -

 

Sunday eve was supposed to be the time for being wide awake, for jumping over bonfires, dancing under stars and flirting - or more with potential lovers; for celebrating the spirit of Summer and the strength of love and Light - this she knew.

 

Yes -

 

Daylight was pressing against the back of the short curtains drawn across the upper-story shutters with increasing intensity, yet that in itself was easy enough to ignore - the glow permeating into the room remained pleasingly soft, and gentle. The pillows under her head were plump and kept their shape despite the weight that pressed upon them. The bed beneath had ample space, and then some. The bedsheets were almost impossibly luxurious against her skin.

 

And yes - 

 

Sunday morn was supposed to be for rest.

 

...Yes!

 

Theoretically, Calia knew this too. 

 

Much, much better than to be not sleeping, and focusing on other things, and a torrent of mixed emotions and thoughts, as she currently was.

 

^_~       ●      ~:~     ●      _~

 

Calia Sedai - once one of three young girls who had shared this very room in early childhood - was still not sleeping another wink, and it was not for a lack of trying.

 

In blatant betrayal of her best intentions, her blue eyes kept flickering wide open. Her mind played along, dismissing the chance for more sleep and focusing instead on memory after memory after memory as she stared at the ceiling, or gazed around in the soft light and semi-dark of the once entirely familiar room...

 ~●~  

 

There - the corner where she had often sat huddled with Kaylan:

each braiding the other's long, long hair and pinching spots of colour

into each other's cheeks, preparing for so many busy - and profitable

- nights waiting on the tables.

~●~
 

Here, that line on the wall - the join of those two particular vertical wooden boards

running down to what had been the almost-center of where their bed had been:

the mark which Josiane had furiously declared a solid boundary

'to the exclusion of absolutely all other sibling belongings and/or bodies'

for an entire, completely ridiculous, week!

 

~●~

The day Thayet had decided she was old enough,  at eighteen months, to join Calia and Josiane in their room... The way she had climbed up onto the shared bed in a tangle of slipping blankets and a ScRaMbLe of scrawny limbs and sandy-blonde hair, one tiny fist clutching her rag-doll horse 'Socksie' tight.

Her pale little Luin face shining full of pride before she turned and scampered over the then-mussed bedsheets to sit, absolutely stubbornly, against the far wall - refusing to be returned to her own cot in their parents' room down the hall ...Ever... 

The way, on that first day, she'd eventually fallen sound asleep, right there against the wall, her tiny thumb half-slipping from her peacefully slack, rosebud mouth, Socksie tight under her arm. The way she had cuddled into Calia every night thereafter, until the day Cal had left to follow Kaylan to the Tower.

 

- ~  ● ~ -  

 

With that, Cal gripped the edge of the bedcovers and 'tssk'd with a slight shake of her head to prevent the rise of memories that would otherwise, like the Wheel of Time, roll inevitably on from there.

 

Revisiting any of those difficult memories - the decades and decades of Luin family life that she'd sacrificed by choice; the tears and fights related to her decision; the too-rapid aging and passing of her sisters and parents; absolute absences in so many moments that mattered, from both sides; leaving her family, and this room, behind again and again - was beyond pointless. Such was the life of an Aes Sedai. Particularly a Sister of the Green, determined to make her choices and service count.

 

And her choices were already made from the moment she'd passed the Arches and Aes Sedai tests, donning her ring and shawl, and understanding so deeply the magnitude of consequences linked with not actively fighting back, of letting the Shadow rest. 

 

Without further pause, she stood - and purposely exited the near-forgotten comfort of what was, once, hers.

 

-●-

 

She crossed the pre-packed room to the not-so-little, two-piece wooden wash-stand, tucked neatly into the far front corner. Catching sight of the mischievous contraption, she grinned just that little bit wider. The more intricate carvings couldn't be seen in the construction until one had a close up view, of course. But even at a distance, the two halves of the apple-shaped 'fruit bowl' (more practically speaking, the hinged and lidded water basin) were perfectly clear, balancing at what seemed a strange angle atop the upright 'water log' (realistically, the basin's stand). The latter stood about a span tall, appearing for all the world just like the bottom of a solid tree, right down to the various markings of bark cleverly disguising hidden hinges and the handles of the three separate sets of shelves in the 'trunk' - and the way it was, quite definitely, 'rooted' through the floor.

~ ● ~

 Light knew where and how long the twins had hewn, hacked and

sculpted this ... thing... in secret. Or how their fifteen-year-old selves had managed

to install it, carved roots and all, into the floor of the girls' room - and the roof of the room below - without some sort of catastrophe!

 

But... there it was...

 

And there were Shem and Joesh, falling over themselves with laughter at their parents' attempt at seriously stern faces, and at Josiane's sharp recoil and squeal of shock as she reached for the sideways, stem-and-leaf shaped 'lid handle' of the hinged, apple-shaped bowl...

 

- ~  ● ~ - 

The thing really was both a ridiculous monstrosity, and a beautiful work of art, Cal thought.

 

Her gaze and fingers brushed quickly over the cool, polished wood and the most random, lifelike carvings on the basin lid - an assortment of tiny, puckered 'bug stings'; the spider and strings of web spread across the leaf part of the handle that had made Josi jump. And of course, the 'stem' - which on closer inspection was, very unmistakably the top half of an unreasonably large, half-emerged codling worm - complete with lifelike, ravenous pincers at the end of its overly lifelike, ugly head. Unceremoniously, Cal grabbed the absurd stick-bug, and swung the top half of the apple open over the hinge, thinking that perhaps the boys had missed twin callings as master carvers when they followed herself and Kaylan to Tar Valon, and into the life of Warders and Aes Sedai...

 

She bent her head, cupping her hands - and splashed a shock of cold water onto her face.

 

...Or, perhaps - as the 'boys' had never missed a chance to tease her - perhaps such thoughts just proved she was getting old and emotionally senile, despite her 'ageless' 'Aes Sedai skin'. 

 

Grinning at the thought, she pulled a silly face at her reflection in the looking glass above the basin and thanked the Light that brothers and Warders existed to keep Aes Sedai so .. sane and humble?

 

Yes, the life of an Aes Sedai was hard. And yes, she would leave her once-home here, again, today - knowing her duty was to that Aes Sedai life, and presently, to hunting down the Seal in the South before the growing Shadow.

 

That could not, however, be all there was to life these days, however. Despite the dire situations they were facing, Cal had found that since her bonding with Elessar, she had actually been feeling much more 'free' to remember and reconnect with the good times in life. And she was genuinely happy in his company. Yes difficult as Aes Sedai life could be, it was becoming increasingly clear to her once more now that she was bonded to her gaidin, that continuing to allow at least a small level of connection with humanity where possible was actually, in some ways, was absolutely still beneficial.

 

Beneficial, yes.

Worth it? That remained to be seen. But she was starting, again, to believe so.

 

Last night's 'pitching in' had been another example of this re-learning, for her. Despite the lack of sleep and the long hours of 'work' she had thoroughly enjoyed pitching in and helping Amelie with the busy night. Even Elessar's startled response to her cheeky wink would have been enough to make her night. It had certainly been a far cry from the pressure and satisfaction of beating back a hoard of myrddraal and beastly trollocs, darkfriends and/or other shadowspawn - but it really had been good to get her hands 'dirty', and to 'bounce back' a moment to her younger, more carefree days.

 

When she didn't know that the Dark One was, very, very surely, bit-by-bit actively breaking out of his bonds and threatening to bring the Last Battle upon them at any moment.

^●   

She shook her head again to clear it.

 

In any case. This trip 'home' had done her wonders - Even with the lack of sleep, she felt re-energised and ready to continue the journey South. In fact, she was already packed. And she would not be alone, tracking and fighting whatever Shadows they found in the South. As the buzz of the bond reminded her constantly, Elessar would be by her side.

 

So.

 

They would be leaving in the next few hours, just after breaking bread 'early' with the Luins, and giving thanks to the midday sun. Cal was glad that this trip had landed on this 'longest' day, making it at least slightly easier to juggle the need for rest and connection, and the need for speed in getting to the South. 

 

No.

 

She was most definitely not about to wallow around on a Sunday.

Age was just a number, and Sundays were made for better kinds of loopy than that! There was enough time left still to enjoy these once-familiar and much-changed surrounds, to honour the lighter side of Life before Elessar and herself marched on against the gathering dark.

 

There was day and Light enough left in this world today for it to make a difference -. And Calia Sedai, now re-bonded, this time to a Gaidin who understood both sides of the battles she frequently fought; once one of five kids who had lived at this inn in the years gone by, intended to refresh the roots closest to her heart, and to make the most of it all! 

 

 

 _.\ ●  ~ ● ~ ~   ^●   ~ ~● ~  _● /.

 

           

    ^{_{''|  /< >                '/<}}

 _{~ ^{~    ~}     '  ●}=₌₌=_● ~  _{^{~  ~}} 

  

Cal had grinned, a flush of elation and well-being flooding her, and probably the bond, when she'd realised she really would tell Elessar as much as he wanted to know about this place and her memories in it - without hesitation, when she'd invited him to accompany her through the orchard.

 

It wasn't just that, knowing his interest in stories, history and the poetic aspects of life, the Sedai hoped her gaidin warrior-poet would appreciate the things she could share with him here. It was that, as when she'd first felt that deeper sense and connection with this man through the bond - the oneness of their their determination, drive and sense of duty and respect for life -  her heart had swelled, yet again, at this newest example of how this 'new' bond actually, truly, really 'felt right' in her heart. And for a while now, she had been feeling quite 'settled' in the bond, despite herself, and very happy to share! 

 

Besides Kaylan, who'd been born next door and practically grew up with Calia and her family at the inn,  Aaran had been the only 'non-Luin' person she had ever felt close enough to to even consider having them know the stories of her home, the inn, these trees and this orchard. For such a long time, the only thing that the rest of her life had seemed any good for was her strength in the One Power, and her ability to fight the Shadow. That, at least, she had never let slide. But, After Aaran had passed, Cal had been so sure she would never invite anyone into these grounds, never share those close-to-heart stories again. Yet, here she was. And here was Elessar.

 

And inviting him here had been easy; especially with the feast-day tied in - it really was the perfect day to honour their bond, along with the strength of Summer, and the Light that each of them had chosen to serve. Yes, it felt easy, and very much like the right thing to do. 

 

Even before she'd extended the invitation for the walk through the orchard with a smile, her mind had immediately skipped ahead to the happy, driven drum of her heart - and to the two most 'special trees'' , and before she even knew it, without even the slightest of hesitation, she'd specifically invited him to visit the two of those also. 

                 

           ^7/<>

~_{^~~       ●}   ~^_~~

 

For Calia, there was nothing quite like this end of the apple orchard. It had been planted on the far Southern edge of Four Kings, running almost all the way to the present-day boundary line of the large Luin property, far before her time. She was glad to have found a moment to walk once again under the ancient branches here, to simply enjoy the peaceful moments of the morning there, listening to the leaves rustling in the breeze and taking in the the sweet, tart, earthy smells of soil and ripening apples. Not for the first time, Calia thanked the Light beyond measure that she had been fortunate enough to be born into this property in Four Kings, and not one of the much, much, much smaller plots of 'land' that crowded at the crossroads, with absolutely nowhere else to escape to but the chaos of the dusty streets. From her infancy to her early teen years, this particular stretch, with the oldest groves apple groves on the property, had always been her personal refuge, and her favourite place in all of Four Kings. The trees closer to the inn had been here only since the the Luin family built the inn, and even that was some good number of generations before Calia ever came along.

But these trees? Cal looked up at the lighter and lighter sky through the gently flittering leaves. She breathed in the scents again and smiled. These trees, were different.

 

Cal had relished telling Elessar during their wanderings together, that these beauties were definitely far, far older than she was. And that to her, they had always been as full of delicious adventures and memories as they had been of  apples! As beautiful and as close to the Shining City of Caemlyn as it was, and given the stone remnants her family had found in various fields over the years. Cal and the girls had always rather liked imagining that Ogier might have had a hand in the building of this place. She'd never found the time to investigate or ask someone in the know for 'real' truth however. Regardless whether or not the ancient Atlantin had been involved in tending the trees, this place always was, and always would be almost magical to her, and her favourite place in all of Four Kings. How could it not be? Even as a child, it was the place in Four Kings that, no matter what else had happened in her life, no matter how ridiculous the town got, or who she'd found herself at odds with, had always been there, with wide open boughs, to help her center herself in the moments she was not battling, and to bring her inner peace.  Not to mention that so, so many 'core' moments from hers and her siblings' infancy (puns intended) and early childhoods had happened here..

 

[Who ever  would have guessed at that age that the twins lied, and that the BIGGEST secret to becoming the fastest runner in the world actually had nothing at all to do with being sure to eat as many apples as possible in their entirety - dirt, skins, cores, stems/sticks/leaves, worms and all? (Especially the worms, if one should one be lucky enough to find any!) ? She never had flown like the wind. But she had blown many, many chunks of partly digested apple into it as a result. How many belly aches had she suffered through and from before her parents caught them out? ]

 

And there were many moments from later years also, when symbols and initials for secret pacts and hearts' desires  were carved through the bark - as much as they wormed their way through her young, hormonal heart. 

 

[Light knew that in most cases, many of those secret markings that had been made into various trunks and branches had lasted far longer there than in her recollections of their location and meaning!]

 

But still, there were some strong exceptions to the forgotten carvings, and many memories that soothed her heart rather than made her feel sick in the belly. for those reasons and a thousand more, she loved this place, and always would, no matter how long she lived.

                                               

 

                   _{<>\''''                   <>/.<}               

^{~  ~ ●=₌₌₌₌=● ~ ~}

 

The last time she had visited the orchard had been decades ago. She savoured and tried to treasure every minute. Touching a trunk here or there, trying to keep her feelings as light and bright as the Summers day that rose around them. Cal made sure to treasure every minute she ever got to spend in, under or close to these trees and branches. And, she had found she was easily enjoying her time there with Elessar too. 

 

The first of the two 'specials' she'd promised him was the 'Family Tree' - the largest and oldest of the Big Reds, where the name and/or hand of every child and life partner of a Luins in the area had been making its mark, recorded in living history, as it were - even generations and generations before her own. It was obvious to see the length of the history there - the tree must've been well over 200, maybe 300 or even more, years old.  Many, many generations of names had been marked into the wood of the trunk, or cut into stones the size of closed fists and piled and gathered around the trunk instead.

 

Cal had been brought here often, from a young age to learn the family history and traditions as well as the science and 'poetry' behind it all: 

 

Firstly, how this tree had probably originally been chosen because of its size, and colour of the fruit - Red for love. Red for Family - and because, after all, reds, like love, tended to make the sweetest fruit as they grew. How 'stress' applied to the tree's trunk and sometimes branches, usually improved the growth of fruit and the strength of fruit bearing trees themselves. How the marked stones were sometimes used as a handy alternative to beat at trunks and encourage a flourish of growth.  Sometimes the stones were even used by loved ones long after the original owners were gone, honouring the memories and the sense that, even departed, love, and memories of love could still be kept somehow relevant to the sweetness of the  present, and bear fruit in times to come.

 

Tradition had it right, she had learned - as long as one took care not to cut all the way down to the heart of the tree, and to not allow infection to set in through contamination, the tree would survive. And, in fact, the trees that withstood the frequent beatings without succumbing to either of the above tended to bear the most - and the largest and the sweetest fruit as they aged. She smiled at that thought as she always did, thinking yet again that much the same could be said of certain people she knew, her 'new' gaidin included!

 

              _{<>\''''                    <>/.<}               

^{~  ~ ●=           =● ~  ~} 

 

Finally, they reached the rows with the best of the Green apple varieties!

 

Cal stopped, with a wide smile, when she found the particular tree she had been looking for.

 

This was the one she had felt so entirely compelled to share with Elessar, as soon as she'd known she would be bringing him 'home' to Four Kings.

 

For an apple tree, it was still particularly broad, and tall, and strong. And it's branches still seemed to produce enough fruit to fill a large amount of barrels. She wondered out loud, not for the first time, if her immediate family members might have often 'stressed' this tree in the long absences of those who had actually carved their names upon it, in the not-so-silent hopes that helping this tree grow strong through stretches of stress would also, somehow, help the others while they were away, doing their best to survive stress and beatings of their own.

 

Calia looked upon it with a sort of proud little smile. 

 

Kaylan and herself had searched every row of trees in the hopes of finding one that the thought would grow just like this. She had not seen it for over two decades - but it was still beautiful, thriving, smelt delightful, and was perfect for its purpose.  

 

For a moment, she simply looked, remembering.

 

And then, unable to wait any longer,  she plucked a rather large apple from a low hanging bough, checked it for bug marks and admired the bright, ripe green skin that covered most of the fruit, as well as the  'Light-kissed' brighter patches that tended to form along the top - or anywhere else the balance of Sun and Shadow played out in favour of the Light. Just the way she liked it. 

 

She shared her joy and these finds with Elessar, pointing out the colours and the reasons for her - and Kaylan's choice - was there any other colour that would have been so suitable for two Accepteds, both aspiring to serve the Light as Sisters of the Green Ajah?

 

Of course Cal thought, it helped that, at least in her mind, the strong, crisp texture and flavours of Green apples tended to match her view of The Greens also - much more than any red or yellow varieties she'd ever tried. And these ones were no exception - in fact, she was quite certain they were the very best she'd ever found! Laughing about this, and insisting that she was eager to hear his thoughts, Cal offered the now polished, shiny green apple out to Elessar so her Green gaidin could take a bite and see for himself - or to take his own selection from any he fancied on the tree.   

 

And then ... 

 

 ~:~

"I'm not usually one to stand on ceremony," she began with a smile.

 

"And, I haven't done this for decades... But... " 

 

Calia fished deep into a concealed side-pocket on her pants and retrieved a small wooden box.

Inside was a small, robust rock chisel - at least as old as herself and always many-many times more sharp. With Joem's permission, she had sought this out and borrowed it from the mantle almost as soon as she'd arrived, this moment in mind.

 

She held it out, offering that to her stoic Green Warder as well.

 

And then she followed through with the smooth rock she'd also been carrying all this time. 

 

 

"But, since it is Sunday, and you are here...  " 

 

"Would you, Elessar Gaidin, do this family the honour

of adding your name, and at some of your strength, to this tree?"

 

She found herself studying his face intently, wondering what was going through his mind. The bond only told a holder and the bonded so much. Like whether the other was still awake or still asleep in the early morning after a night of being awake; or if they were already up and training with the wind in the leaves and morning Sun, or, like she had been today, walking about the yards of the inn, alehouse, brewery and orchard in with the soft breeze and early morning light.

 

She might not have been able to read his thoughts, exactly, but she did know she was glad she had bonded this particular man, this particular Warder of hers who had, it seemed, a penchant for serving Light and Life with the Greens for all the best reasons, and that, despite the risks that had been raised by setting herself in, she felt stronger, and safer with him by her side. 

 

She was glad, and proud, to have him serving the Light by her side.

And she was actually glad to finally, after so, so long, trust another gaidin like this - and to know that was the case, no matter what lay ahead.

And she was glad, that on this Sunday, there was such an appropriate way to honour the Light in her life, and the enduring strength represented by the one-ness and the bond they shared, and she was glad to invite him to have his name etched, forever more on her most enduring, favourite 'Green' - where it could stand, proud through beatings and storms, growing stronger with the Light, adding a certain, punchy sweetness to life, representing their shared choices and purpose, their strength and resolutions. Their 'one-ness'.

 

Alongside her own name and those of her brothers', Kaylan's and Aaran's - The names of her chosen, those very, very few in her Ajah who had ever made the cut this close to the core of her heart.

 

Elessar's name, she knew, belonged there too. 

 

In some ways, she trusted Elessar more with the bond than any other Warder she had ever had.

Her brothers and Aaran included. 

 

And, as she offered her gaidin the necessary tools to accomplish the task she was glad, to know that was the case, and glad to offer him the space.

 

             _{<>\''''                    <>/.<}               

^{~  ~ ●=₌₌₌₌=● ~  ~}

 

 

Edited 23 hours ago by Cass