A Bond of Faith (attn. Calia Sedai)

[Elessar]

.. Caught in a Net ..

►▼◄

 

It all happened so quickly.

 

Elessar’s shoulder slammed into the young man’s neck and the man crashed to the ground like a felled tree.

 

●

 

Out of the corner of his eye the Warder sensed the Aes Sedai act as well and of a sudden the near-darkness was emblazoned in light. As he turned to gaze in Calia’s direction for a swift moment he glimpsed what looked like an orb shining bright above. It made it easier for him to take in the scene. Two other young men stood in mid-stride unable to move and Elessar understood that they were caught in the grips of the One Power. He had seen Saidar used in combat and these young men were going nowhere.

 

Shifting his gaze back to the man on the ground before him he was surprised to see the man attempting to get to his feet. The Warder had expected him to be out cold. Perhaps the few ales he had drunk that evening had influenced his aim somewhat. His dark eyes tightening, he grabbed the young man’s arm and pulled him not too gently to his feet. Studying the man more closely he saw that he was in his early twenties with short dark hair, a broken nose and a long scar running down the left side of his face. He scowled at the Gaidin but Elessar could see that the man was less confident than he appeared. He was held in the iron grip of the Warder’s arm but when he glimpsed his two mates seemingly caught in mid-stride off to the side his eyes widened and there was panic in his gaze now. Seeing the look Elessar grinned darkly.

 

●

 

The two men caught in Calia’s net of Air carried daggers which were now exposed, Elessar could see. She spoke in a calm and level voice, her face smooth, eyes like deep ice.

 

"Release those knives, please boys. Now." 

 

They complied, their eyes staring wildly about, the daggers falling to the cobblestones below. Elessar bent and carefully touched the hilt of each blade in case the daggers were poisoned. He shook his head so Calia would understand that these blades were not poisoned. Perhaps they were not assassins after all.

 

“So, boys.” Elessar said coldly, holding one of the daggers in his hand. He pointed it at the two men held by Calia. “You made a big mistake tonight.”

 

His dark eyes were pools of ice as he studied the two young men. They were about the same age as the first guy but these had the look of Andor about them, light-blond hair and a fair complexion. They looked pretty similar in many ways and Elessar guessed they were brothers.

 

“What major fools you were.” Elessar said with scorn. It was deliberate, meant to intimidate the young men further. “Young you are. But most definitely old enough to know better.”

 

●

 

He exchanged a quick glance with Calia and then roughly pushed the young man he had been holding to the ground. When he tried to regain his feet one look at Elessar’s hard face made him reconsider.

 

“Now then”, the Warder said with some finality, “Calia Aes Sedai has some questions for you all. Your answers will determine what happens to you.”

 

“I advise you to be truthful.” He added. His eyes hardened further. “And respectful. Any disrespect shown this Sister of the White Tower and I will crush your knee caps”, he lied.

 

From the wary looks they gave him they believed him though. The ability to lie was an important weapon in a Warder’s arsenal. A weapon often utilized with benefit when with an Aes Sedai who could, of course, not lie due to the Three Oaths (though Aes Sedai were very good at speaking around the truth; when he had said as much to Leandreen many years before, the Green Sister had given him a not very amused look which in turn had made him very amused).

 

These could be local thugs attempting to mug an innocent couple in a Tar Valon side street, or something more sinister could be going on. One could never know the attackers’ intentions or allegiance to the Light or otherwise. He was certain Calia would be thinking the same thing. Any Green Sister who had fought the Shadow would. Depending on their answers, they would be brought to the White Tower or the watch-house of the City Guard.

 

They will count themselves lucky if it is the latter.

 

●

 

He stood silently as Calia began to question them, taking note of her questioning technique and her poise. It was clear to him that she had done this before. Many times. He also kept a watchful eye on the shadows, in case any ‘friends’ of these young men were about.

 

One could never be too careful.

 

▀▄

[Cass]

No doubt about it, Cal noted to herself. Elessar had practiced moves and cold control, an ability to present a hard, unyielding front and talk smoothly of crushing knee-caps whilst still keeping a wider, watchful eye; and he demonstrated that absolutely unique combination of simultaneously protecting an Aes Sedai from danger and respectfully deferring to her decisions when a situation was more under control without even the smallest hitch.

 

Unless he was the Shadow's best actor, the man was Gaidin. And a competent one at that. Even unbound, the trouble-maker at his feet was going nowhere. 

 

"The Warder gives you good advice," Calia warned all of the young men, lowering her hood and exposing a face and tone as impassive as only decades as an Aes Sedai could wring. 

 

As she spoke, Cal bolstered and tied off the orb of light.  She shortened the wall of Air between the two men, drawing them closer together, and trimmed the rest of the threads around them into a neat and compact block. Carefully, ever so carefully, she secured the weave around each man's chest just a little bit tighter. 

 

Better. 

 

She suspected Elessar would take the acknowledgement she spoke for exactly what it was - despite the fact her gaze was now firmly fixed on the three young men, and them alone, without even the slightest hint of the satisfaction she actually felt as a result of the solidified understanding.

 

She eyed each of the men in turn. Slowly. With a stare as sharp, direct, cold and impenetrable as possible. She left the man at Elessar's feet until last. 

 

"It is curious that you scowl again," she noted blandly, turning her attention back again to the two wider-eyed and Power-held boys in front of her. 

 

"You," Cal locked eyes with the youth closest to her and took a step forward, gesturing the dagger lying near her feet, "You would stab an Aes Sedai with a knife?" His gaze flickered wildly from her outstretched hand to the knife and then towards the third the man on the ground before darting back up to hers. Without breaking stride or stare, she crooked her fingers and drew the dagger upward from the cobblestones with a fist of Air.

 

"N-no, Aes Sedai!, no!" Again - a flick of his gaze in the direction of the man at Elessar's feet. The boy's voice was on the edge of panic.

 

"You then?" she snapped her stare and accusatory question towards the other in her net. He swallowed hard, looked wide-eyed and rapidly and emphatically shook his head to either side as much as the weave around him would allow.

 

Cal amplified her voice, matter-of-factly, raising the blade as high as their brows and looking sharply from one to the other, "Yet, here we are. And here is a knife." The weapon dropped neatly from the air into her waiting hand. She held it steady.

 

"And there," she tilted her head towards the knife Elessar still had, "is another."

 

The boys paled. 

 

Eyes narrowed, Cal began rapid-firing questions at the two in her best no-nonsense-teacher-of-the-Tower tone. Quickly enough, they spilled names and hometowns she placed little stock in along with believable ages and confirmation that they were brothers from Andor. The two were decidedly not strangers to Tar Valon, Cal decided, and both of them were reasonably aware of how much trouble they were in for being caught as perpetrators of crime in this city, even in these more secluded streets. Neither of them had ever sat in the Chair of Remorse. This she believed at least. Both of their eyes had widened even further at the mentioning of the Chair, but nothing more than that; and try as she might she just couldn't stretch her imagination far enough to cast either of them as the sort that would react as they had, or risk a second session if they had.

 

The third man, however, scowled throughout her questioning, answering apparently both more smoothly and more begrudgingly than the other two boys. His misshapen nose and the scar on his face probably told more truth about his rough life than his words, Cal knew. Most telling of all for her though, was his initial panic at recognising her channeling for what it was, mirrored later at the mention of the Chair, and all of the barely-contained surliness-bordering-contempt in between. 

 

All three of them swore, trembling to various degrees of believability, that they had never intended to try and actually harm Elessar or herself or any other passer-by, and that they were working alone, just trying to 'earn' a few coins for a meal and a bed for the night. 

 

Cal didn't bother mentioning that none of them looked particularly destitute or in dire need of a meal. Even before the last of her questions, she had weighed the facts of the situation and shared the briefest warning glance with the Gaidin so he might be prepared before the announcement of her decision and ready for any reaction from the men.

 

There were countless paths, some more innocent than others, that might have led these men to tonight's activities and the stories they now told. Regardless, the street was no place for sifting truth. They would be going to the Tower. At the very least, all three of these youths were guilty of intended violence and strongarming innocents in the streets of Tar Valon. That alone was not something she would excuse, nor something that could go without punishment here. The City was kept as safe and ordered as it was because there were always harsh consequences for crime. Lessons needed to be learned in order for behaviour to be changed. Lenience could lead to ruin. 

It was also entirely possible that the third man, especially, could represent a deeper level of trouble, at the very least for the other two. There was something about him and the way they glanced his way before speaking, something else about the way he appeared to both fear her use of the Power and scorn at her questioning with false bravado.

 

At least with Shadowspawn, you always know...

 

The wind whipped and whistled down the alley-way, stirring up the corner of cloak and reminding her that whether the boys in front of her were common crooks with a sad back-story, terrible plan and the lack of sense to stay away from Tar Valon, or one or more Darkfriends with connections to a more sinister plot - the Tower and tailored experiences in the Chair of Remorse - not this street in the wind - was ultimately where they would be shown the consequences of their actions and the best place for risks and stories to be straightened out.

 

She drew more of the Power as a precaution against any trouble, ready to fight or bind the men as required, and her voice cut through the wind with finality when she spoke.

 

"And yet, here we are, and here are the knives you rushed at us with - knives of a cut for thieves, strongarms and criminals more than for gentle every-day use. In an ambush. In the streets of Tar Valon. Crime can't and won't be tolerated here and you all have things to learn. Let's get you all to the Tower!"

[Elessar]

.. From Darkness into Light ..

►▼◄

 

The eight cloaked figures seated in a circle in the cold, damp and semi-dark cellar at the outskirts of the City waited in expectant silence.

 

Their hoods covered their faces and their cloaks were black as night, mirroring the darkness outside in Tar Valon. Candle lights along the walls partially lit the otherwise dark cellar room and they intermittently made it seem as if Shadows were dancing on the walls.

 

The silence deepened, only broken by rapid, shallow breaths from one of the cloaked figures, until a door was opened along one of the stone walls, a door barely visible to those inside, and a Shadow slowly entered the cellar. This figure, tall and imposing, also was covered in a black hooded cloak. His cloak had a thread of silver running down the sides and he carried himself with authority. The man studied the assembled group from within the hood covering his face, his eyes tightening hard, lips pursed, and then walked to stand before the circle of eight. He looked at each person in turn, knowing who they all were even if he could not now see all their faces. Several stared downwards instead of meeting his intense gaze.

 

Then he straightened and a harsh smile came upon his lips. In his hand was a blood-dripping knife, a dagger 10 inches long with a heavily decorated handle and mysterious inscriptions on the blade, and he raised it high for all to see.

 

“This is the prize of treachery.” Drops of blood fell to the floor before him, minuscule pools of ominous dark red. “Treachery and betrayal.”

 

●

 

His dark penetrating voice had a perilous quality and a certain sharpness which affected them all. From a hidden pocket in his cloak he carefully removed another item. The assembled figures could see what it was. Wrapped in a small piece of paper towel was a severed finger with a man’s emerald ring still fastened. The green was now covered with blood, its spark drowned in a sea of blood-red castigation.

 

“Has anyone else here betrayed the Great Lord of the Dark?”

 

His question was only met by silence. Almost everyone looked downwards now, trying to avoid the man’s accusatory gaze. No one would admit openly to betraying the Great Lord, the man by some known as Samos knew. He studied each man in turn, hoping against hope that one of them would break, but no one did. Pity, he thought to himself.

 

He enjoyed torturing others, he had always gotten delightful pleasure by inflicting pain, which was the main reason he had turned to the Shadow in the first place. And killing traitors, he enjoyed that more than anything. Well, he would get his chance soon. There were always some members of their circles who betrayed their new oaths. Far too many people were weak in this world. Far too few could be trusted.

 

Samos sat down at the head of the circle and gave them each a final cold penetrating stare. He placed his hands on the table in their midst, almost as if in prayer, and waited. The candle light in the middle of the table burned as if with an inner fire, the flame golden and intense. Samos stared into its fiery depths for long moments before finally removing his gaze. He nodded to himself.

 

Placing the severed blood-dripping finger on the table before him he used the sharp dagger-knife to smoothly cut it into eight small pieces, removing the ring. He then placed the small finger-bits on a small plate which he brought from a cupboard in the corner and told the assembled figures to take one piece each.

 

The ring he kept for himself.

 

●

 

Elessar nodded respectfully to the Captain of Warders and sat down opposite him.

 

They were seated in the Captain’s Office in the Warder Barracks and it was midmorning. Elessar knew the Captain well. He was another Gaidin in his 40s of much experience and a very competent Warder in his own right. A Saldaean, he was dark-skinned with brown oval eyes and a prominent nose. He was fit as a 30-year old and always full of jokes. A fellow Borderlander, Elessar had always liked him. He did not know the reason why the Captain had taken on administrative duties in the past few years but he was doing a damn good job in the role, the Kandori Gaidin thought, balancing authority and pragmatism, and they had spoken on many an occasion in the time since Elessar had returned to Tar Valon with his Bond released.

 

“So Elessar”, the Captain began, leaning back in his chair, a broad and knowing grin on his face. “Are you dying of restlessness?”

 

Elessar grinned back, rolling his eyes. “You know me, Captain. I am bored as hell here.”

 

They shared a chuckle, the Captain knowing very well how much Elessar wanted to be on the road.

 

The mission he had been on in the western region a while back had done him a ton of good, the Captain knew, and he would love to be out in the world again. Well, thought the Captain with a hidden smile, now he would get his chance.

 

“As chance has it”, the Captain began, “I can remedy that boredom. You have been requested.”

 

●

 

“Requested?” Elessar asked curiously, raising his eyebrow.

 

It was unusual for anyone to request his services. Hardly anyone in the Tower knew him except his former Bondholders and he doubted any of them would ask for him. Not that they had parted on bad terms or anything, just that they had all moved on and would not look to him for help.

 

“By whom”? He added, going through in his head who it could be. “And for what?”

 

“There is a lady at the White Harbour inn, a woman of some.. influence”, the Captain replied in a very serious tone of voice, “who says you owe her sexual favours. On the honour of the White Tower, she said.”

 

Elessar’s mouth opened and then closed and opened again, his eyes widening before finally seeing the lop-sided grin gradually broadening the Captain’s face. Elessar cursed, tried to kick the Captain’s chair in retaliation, and then joined in the laughter.

 

“Seriously though”, Elessar added once their mirth had ended, “who did request?”

 

“The White Tower, of course. Who did you expect, the Whitecloaks?” The Captain grinned anew knowing well what Elessar thought of the Children of the Light.

 

Elessar’s grin turned into a scowl thinking about that militant order. “I might do well as a Questioner, I have been told on occasion”, the Kandori Gaidin replied wryly with some irony. His grin grew dangerous. “I know quite a few Whitecloaks I would like to put to the Question.”

 

The Captain of the Warders nodded soberly.

 

●

 

Having received his orders, Elessar was ready to leave. He still wondered though if he had been “requested” because of his experience or if there was some other reason behind. He asked the Captain if he knew anything else.

 

The Captain met his gaze squarely. “All I was told was that you will accompany a party of Aes Sedai on a mission heading off into the Borderlands. Some of your Brothers will also go.”

 

Elessar nodded. So he was going, and so were some other Warders too. He was glad to get out of the Tower and out on the road again. That was what mattered.

 

●

 

Giving the Captain a final smile and a respectful bow, he left the Captain’s Office and headed back to his own room in the Warder Barracks.

 

As he walked along the corridors he thought about what he had been told and wondered if perhaps Aleorah Sedai would be part of this group from the White Tower. They had been on a successful mission together a while back but he had not seen her since.

 

It also made him think of where the Tower party was heading. It was a while also since he had been in the Borderlands. The rumours of increased Trolloc raids and Shadowspawn there must be true, he thought as he came up to his quarters. Entering his room, he lay down on the bed and his thoughts ran to his homeland Kandor and to Shadowspawn raids when he was young.

 

He had been told to be ready for travel the following day and that evening he packed his belongings, cleaned and sharpened his sword, and made sure his valiant black stallion, Stormbreaker, was ready for saddling in the morning.

 

●

 

As he lay in bed that night before sleep, a full moon shining its silver light through his window, he thought back on the past weeks. Most of the time had been spent doing compulsory watch duty in the Tower, daily physical training with sword forms, and running various errands. He had tried to ignore the urge to go on the road again when he had seen Brothers leave on missions with Aes Sedai and to curb his restlessness, but he had only been partially successful. Every time he had to spend much time in the Tower it was the same and he suspected it would always be so.

 

Some Warders managed to stay focused and motivated in the Tower as Tower Guards. Elessar was not one of them. Perhaps it was his many years as a Bonded Warder, perhaps it was many years on the road on missions. For whatever reason, that was the Warder life he yearned for and where he felt he could -and would- contribute the most.

 

Since he found it somewhat unlikely that he would be lucky enough to be Bonded again, he would find joy and motivation in being on missions for the Tower and serving the Light. He looked forward to leaving the next day and the thought of it lit up his face.

 

Staring at the window which was by now painted in half-light by the moon made him suddenly think of an unusual occurrence a couple weeks before. He had met an Aes Sedai at the White Flame inn here in Tar Valon and the two of them had subsequently been attacked by a trio of thugs on the way to the White Tower. Who would have thought it, a Warder and an Aes Sedai assailed in the streets of the city!? Elessar still could hardly believe it. He recalled in detail what had happened.

 

●

 

Taking his mind back to that late evening, it was almost as if he were back in time..

 

After Elessar had warned the thugs, he had watched as Calia Aes Sedai had questioned them. She had done so with eminent skill and poise, her face Aes Sedai calm and smooth. She had told them to heed his advice to be truthful and respectful in their answers and Elessar had contentedly taken the acknowledgement for what it was, a sign of understanding and respect. She had confronted each of the thugs confidently and with assurity, making them consider the great foolishness of what they had done. Her questioning had worked and her use of the One Power had added to the weight of her authority. The thugs had stared wide-eyed at her and had clearly been frightened, even the one laying at Elessar’s feet who scowled a lot but who they suspected hid his fear behind his scowls. The thugs had spilled names and hometowns (probably lies) and two of them had confirmed they were brothers (probably true). The two had not ever sat in the Chair of Remorse, at least they had seemed honestly surprised, Elessar thought, when she had mentioned it, while the one at his feet (dubious character) was quite another matter.

 

All three had sworn, shakily (some more believable than others), that they had never had any intention to actually harm her or him or anyone in fact, that they were working alone and had just tried to get some coin for a meal and a bed for the night. Elessar had not believed it for a moment and exchanging a quick gaze with Calia had told him that neither did she. Her specific glance had also made him understand that these thugs would be brought to the Tower. They had committed a crime, intended violence and strongarming innocents in the streets of Tar Valon, and that required punishment. The City was kept safe and ordered because such crimes would always have dire consequences. The third man was an uncertainty, Elessar remember thinking, perhaps there was more to him than just being a street thug.. who knew what people had connections to Darkfriends.. the Tower was the right place to discover his true “story”.

 

●

 

He remembered Calia’s final words to the thugs before they had brought them back to the Tower.

 

“Crime can't and won't be tolerated here and you all have things to learn. Let's get you all to the Tower!"

 

Bound, the thugs had been taken through the streets and up to the Tower grounds. By then they had lost any will to resist (not that they could have done much in any case) and were brought sullenly into the Tower itself and taken by a couple of Red Sisters, not too gently, down to the Tower dungeon.

 

Calia had thanked Elessar for his assistance and he in turn had replied that he had only done his duty. They had parted then, the Warder giving the Aes Sedai a Warder’s bow of respect, and she had given a slight nod back as she had walked away. They had not spoken since, he had in fact not seen her at all.

 

●

 

Thinking back on it all now it almost seemed surreal.

 

But he had to admit that he had been impressed by the way she had handled the thugs, her cool calm confidence, her clearly long experience and proficiency, her delicate balance between harsh interrogation and gentle questioning, and the way she carried herself with dignity and strength.

 

His first impression of her had been right. In this woman there was a passion for life mingled with steel to survive war.

 

 She is a true Battle Ajah Sister, he thought with a knowing smile as he closed his eyes. I bet whoever is her Warder is a lucky guy!

 

▀▄

 

[Cass]

"...Saldaea," The Captain-General spoke the final word of Calia's report and recommendations in the same instant she did.  

 

Cal inclined her head to acknowledge the perspicacity, along with the truth and weight of shared information. It had taken a further, in-person meeting with Fenn to decipher the exact details of the note he had passed her at the White Flame, and then another week for a second contact to arrive from the same general direction and corroborate his stories. Evidently though, hers had not been the only ears attuned to the growing whispers.

 

The press of the Captain-General's normally rosy mouth into a pale line  confirmed it, as far as Cal was concerned. It was time to move, and Saldaea would be the target. Surely there was no denying action now -  signs of darkness were definitely spreading at an unusual rate along the edges of the Borderlands; the Blight was stirring once again, and it was past time for the Tower to have coordinated an appropriate response. 

 

"Ah-!", the Captain-General held up a finger - a smooth and practised measure of admonishment and caution to patience.

 

Cal pressed her mouth closed accordingly.

 

"- leave it with me, Calia." 

 

"Of course," Cal smiled at her colleague of many battles and many years, and pressed her mouth carefully shut again. For an instant.

 

"I know, I know - you're packed and ready to go." An entire cautionary hand lifted above the table-top to head off the unspoken words this time, waving Cal completely out of the room for good measure. In response, Cal nodded and rose promptly from her seat. The Captain General fixed her with an eagle-like stare, knowing her all too well. 

 

She was two steps from the door before the expected order came.

 

"Go and get some sleep."

 

Calia turned, smiling over her shoulder with absolutely no pretence of intended innocence or immediate compliance with that order, and slipped out of the room, softly closing the door.

 

* * *

 

"I recommend him," Calia affirmed several days later when the official orders had come through and discussions concerning companions had begun, "Elessar is my pick."

 

"Sister, he isn't exactly the youngest resource in the Tower, and neither are you..."

 

"- the mention of which, I can only assume, you are bringing up to highlight the wealth of knowledge and experience we could each bring to a vast number of situations throughout a journey such as this one." Calia cut the younger Sedai off smoothly, somewhat surprised that anyone would question her recommendation. Cal had been watching the man in question for weeks now, and was more than confident enough in her decision.

 

The Captain General hid a smile behind her hand. "Elessar comes," she confirmed, having been privy to all of Calia's positive observations and thoughts on Elessar's capacity and ability to perform appropriately for this since the two of them had first met.

 

"I'll inform the Captain of the Warders."

 

* *  *
 

The blood was warm. It seeped from the meat crushed between his teeth. It ran in messy rivulets around his tusks and down his leathery muzzle. Garg grunted and grinned at the still-jerking body held in his fist. Human bellies were so soft. He wanted more. Now. Like the Eyeless and the hoard of brothers around him, he didn't wait.

 

* *  *

Dawn seeped through the gaps at the edges of her curtains. Slowly, slowly, the day of departure finally arrived. Slithers of light stretched across the tidy room, highlighting the empty and neatly made bed, the inside of the tightly shut door.

 

Calia strode down the hallway, her hair smoothed back from her face in tiny braids collected in a no-nonsense bun at the back of her head, her green silk riding skirts swishing determinedly with every step.

 

She reached the stables and saddled the mare that had been allocated to her for the journey. Checking her packed belongings a final time and finding nothing amiss, she mounted up and headed to the meeting point just as the sun burst forth from the horizon. Light streamed across her path, minimising shadows and chasing away the dark. She smiled, eyes bright.

 

This, Calia thought.

 

This chasing shadows was exactly what she was made for, and it was high time again for her to put her skills and strength to best use!

[Elessar]

 .. Beginning a Journey in Twilight ..

►▼◄

 

The Myrddraal, wearing his black armour with overlapping scales and a black cloak which did not stir in the wind, drove the fist of Trollocs across the Borderland fields in the night and they struck hard at any farm they came across.

 

At his side was a black-bladed sword made at Thakan'dar, on the slopes of Shayol Ghul, and he wielded the deadly blade with great skill. Even a slight scratch from his blade was usually fatal and none had so far survived the encounter.

 

..Forged as it is driven through the living human heart of the sacrifice, dipped in the black river at Thakan'dar, the edge of the black blade consumes the corruption, the darkness, becoming one with it..

 

The echoes in his mind were almost whispers.. and he gloried in their bloodstained truth.

 

 ●

 

Blood ran warm as the Trollocs feasted on human flesh, ripping arms and legs off their victims, ignorant of the screams of horror and pain. Each time the Fade only let them feast for so long before moving onwards. He had his orders and they were to assemble further south in Saldaea in less than a week.

 

With his lank black hair and waxy-white skin he could almost have been taken for a human from afar but up close one could not make the mistake. He was eyeless but could see with perfect clarity and his jagged teeth widened in an evil grin as he looked down upon the horrified face of a young Saldaean mother whose left arm had been ripped off at the shoulder. She was too scared even to scream now, the excruciating pain making her go into shock, blood flowing in rivers down her ravaged body, and soon the light of the world left her dark brown eyes.

 

The Myrddraal crushed her skull in insane delight.

 

 ●

 

It was finally the day of departure.

 

Elessar strode down the hallway carrying his belongings for this journey. He wore his colour-shifting Warder cloak made of fancloth and his travelling boots. His dark hair was brushed back from his forehead and his dark eyes were piercing as he passed several Warder trainees on his way to the stables. His mind was already on the journey ahead and on what awaited them in the Borderlands so he barely acknowledged their respectful nods.

 

It was shortly after dawn and the sun was slowly rising on the horizon. Glancing up at the sky as he reached the stables he noted there were intermittent clouds in the light blue canopy above, also a soft breeze coming out of the west, but all in all it seemed a good day for riding. They wanted to cover as much ground as possible that day, he had been told by the senior Gaidin in the travelling party, Sinahr Gaidin, and it sounded wise; one could never tell when the weather would change. Stepping up to Stormbreaker, his valiant black stallion, he saw that he had been brushed clean. The horse neighed appreciatively when he saw the Warder, recognizing a faithful companion of many years, and Elessar gave the mount a kind pat on the back as well as an apple. The horse had been saddled as ordered and all the Gaidin had to do was fasten the saddle bags to its sides before leading the horse out of the stable and along the path to where he was to meet up with the others.

 

 ●

 

When he arrived at the Tower gates he saw that most of the others were already there. Several Aes Sedai had already mounted up and Elessar gave them a quick glance to see if he recognized anyone. He still did not know which Sisters were coming on this journey though he expected the Captain-General of the Greens to be among them. The Head of the Battle Ajah would not miss this opportunity to lash out against the Shadow. One of the Sisters he saw was Blue Ajah by the shawl she wore but also her blue riding dress but she did not look familiar. Two others were Green but also unfamiliar. He recognized the Captain-General who sat atop a brown mare; he had seen her a couple times when visiting the Captain of the Warders. She would no doubt be the leader of this Tower party.

 

Off to the right he saw several other Warders, Sinahr Gaidin among them. He gave the Brother Gaidin a respectful nod and received one in return. Another Sedai was arriving just as Elessar mounted up. She wore green silk riding skirts and seemed a bit familiar from a distance but just then Sinahr came up to him and asked if he was ready and so his attention shifted. Sinahr told him the Tower party would consist of six Aes Sedai and eight Warders, fourteen members in all, and that the Gaidin would spread out around the Sisters; two in front, two at the back and two on each side. He would ride at the front and Elessar at the back. He wanted someone with long experience having their backs in case of any unforeseen danger, he said. Elessar nodded, seeing the wisdom in that.

 

As Sinahr walked off to mount up Elessar’s gaze returned to where he had seen the Green Sister before but now she was gone, probably up front mingling with other Aes Sedai. Shrugging, he focused on the group getting ready around him. Saddles were checked and double checked, provisions put in place. Another Gaidin soon joined him, someone Elessar had seen around the Warder’s Yard but never spoken to, to stand at the back of the party.

 

Soon they were ready to depart.

 

 ●

 

The party of Aes Sedai and Warders rode slowly across the long and majestic bridge connecting the island of Tar Valon to the mainland. Travellers on foot, local villagers and foreigners from far off lands alike, moved aside to let them pass. A little village boy, perhaps six or seven of age, with short Andoran blond hair, blue eyes and a fair complexion, gazed with awe at the fearsome-looking Warders and the regal-looking Aes Sedai as they passed him. He stared after them long after they were gone, dreaming of one day becoming an honoured Warder.

 

Once they were on the mainland they followed the main road northwards. The sun steadily climbed in the sky as the hours passed. They held a good pace - not too fast, not too slow - with the Warders in front making sure the road ahead was free of obstacles. This was not a heavily travelled road, though some locals and travellers used it to get to the villages of Arvend and Karein further along. And then there were those few going further northwards. The Aes Sedai rode mostly in silence but now and again they exchanged a few words. He could see the Captain-General near the front, eyes always on what lay ahead. From where he rode at the back he could still not determine who all the Sisters were and he wondered at the Green Sister who had seemed a little familiar from the quick glance he had gotten. When they made a stop a little later he would get his chance to study the Sisters a little more closely.

 

 ●

 

It was past midday, the sun almost directly above in the sky, when they made their first stop. Dismounting a little away from the road in a woodland area Elessar tethered his mount to a tree and went to stand beside Sinahr. They spoke a while about the journey ahead and then the Kandori Gaidin turned his attention to the other members of the Tower party. The Captain-General was busy talking with some of her Green Sisters while her two Warders were sharing a flask of water. Next to them stood the Green Sister who had ridden beside the Captain-General. Her face was turned the other way and so Elessar was unable to see who it was. There was something though.. something a bit familiar..

 

And then she turned around.. and it was Calia Sedai.

 

He hid his smile. It was good to have someone he knew on this journey. Not that he really knew this Green Sister, but the almost surreal episode with the thugs in Tar Valon had stayed in his mind and she had impressed him with her handling of the situation. Her Warder was probably one of the unfamiliar Gaidin in this travelling party, he surmised. She noticed his gaze and returned his respectful nod. He saw that her hair was smoothed back from her face in tiny braids collected in a no-nonsense bun at the back of her head. Her face was Aes Sedai-smooth but he thought he detected the hint of a smile before she turned away again. The small smile, it turned out, mirrored his.

 

A true Battle Ajah Sister, just like we want for a mission like this.

 

 ●

 

Elessar checked that the saddle bags were still safely fastened to Stormbreaker’s sides, then mounted up anew. Soon they were all back on the road heading north. At intervals Elessar rode a little back down the road, as a precaution; not that they expected any trouble from brigands this far south, but better safe than sorry as had been imprinted on him by his Warder teachers many years before.

 

The weather stayed decent for most of that day but as day turned into evening, twilight encompassing the region, and they made a stop at a small village several hours north of Karein, clouds were thickening in the sky. Poorer travelling weather awaited them in the coming days.

 

 ●

 

He did not speak with Calia until the following day. They were leaving early and he had just seen to his horse when she approached him. There was rain in the air and having journeyed in this kind of weather before Elessar knew what to expect. He turned away from Stormbreaker and watched her come to a stop before him.

 

“Elessar”, she said with a polite nod. Again there was the hint of a small smile on her lips.

 

“Calia Aes Sedai”, he replied, giving her a respectful Warder’s bow. His small smile echoed hers. “It seems we are joined again. The thugs this time around though will be of a different, more dangerous kind.” His eyes tightened thinking about the Shadow.

 

“Yes, they will.” Calia replied. There was an expectant glint in her eyes. “I am glad you joined us on this mission to the Borderlands. The Shadow is Rising.”

 

She held his gaze knowingly for a long moment, then gave him another polite nod and walked away before he could respond.

 

He watched her walk away, thinking again about how they had handled the Tar Valon-thugs together. They had worked well as a team. Pushing the thought from his mind, he checked his saddle bags again and climbed upon his warhorse. Hands on the reins he guided the horse along the path that led to the others. Nodding to Sinahr and some of the other Gaidin, he saw that almost everyone was ready to depart. Calia was speaking with the Captain-General near the front while some of the Warders were bringing in new provisions, and then finally they too mounted up and the party set off. Elessar brought up the rear as usual with his comrade Kerin Gaidin, a middle-aged guy from Cairhien who was kindly disposed but who spoke little during the journey. Calia rode beside the Captain-General as usual and as the rain became heavier the party picked up speed. They wanted to reach their next destination before it became dark.

 

 ●

 

They arrived in the village of Stelton, wet and tired, just after sunset. The village only consisted of a main road, a dozen thatched houses on either side, a blacksmith, a couple of local shops and an inn. It had been a long day’s ride in poor weather, a northern wind making the journey through the rain even more miserable, and they were not displeased to have concluded this part of the journey north. One of their Warders had ridden ahead to ensure they got enough rooms at the inn for the fourteen members of the group and when they dismounted outside the Red Fox inn the innkeeper stood outside to welcome them. He was a big man with a broad smile (which appeared genuine), arms the size of logs, and wearing a white apron. He studied the Aes Sedai and Warders with the knowing look of one who had seen groups from the White Tower before and promptly had their horses brought to the stables behind the building and the group settled into rooms. Each Sister had her own room while the Warders shared a room two and two.

 

The Sedais and Warders met up in the Common Room a little later to share a warm meal. Afterwards they would enjoy the evening’s entertainment. According to the innkeeper a gleeman would perform later in the evening. Elessar, always ready for a gleeman’s performance, looked forward to it. Calia sat with the other Aes Sedai and did not speak to Elessar neither during the meal, nor afterwards. He understood this, respecting her privacy, and did not wish to intrude, neither on her nor on her Warder.

 

 ●

 

He shared a table with two of the other Warders, one from Andor and one from Arad Doman. They were younger than him, which was no surprise since he was far from a spring chicken, but each had some experience from missions which was valuable on this journey. They chit-chatted about some of the adventures they had been on and also spoke of what might await them up in the Borderlands. It was the kind of mix of serious talk and light banter that often took place between Warders who lived on the edge of battle so to say. Elessar did not speak much, his thoughts elsewhere. He was thinking on the missions he had shared with his former Bondholders. As often was the case, his thoughts went to Leandreen. His first Bondholder. The Green Aes Sedai he had been unable to save. Pushing down the guilt that always followed those thoughts, he whispered his apology to her in his mind, the apology that was never enough. Forgive me.

 

Half-way through the evening the gleeman arrived. The man - who seemed to be in his late thirties with long brown hair, green eyes, a cheerful smile and the look of a scholar - wore a cloak of many colourful patches and surely had talent, though he was far less experienced than some gleemen Elessar had seen on his many travels up through the years. The Warder’s opinion of the man improved, however, when the gleeman began to sing. He had a mesmerising voice that caught you and held you in its grip. The locals applauded merrily when he was finished and some yelled for a story. The cry was picked up.

 

“We want a story!” They cried out.

“Giv’ us a good one!”

“One about heroes of the past!”

 

The gleeman grinned to himself, knowing exactly the kind of story that would please this crowd. A heroic story of Aes Sedai battle-legend Rashima Kerenmosa. He had noted there were Aes Sedai and Warders present, surely some of them Green, and he was confident they would enjoy the poem and song.

 

 ●

 

“Let me tell the story of Rashima Kerenmosa”, he said in a loud voice followed by a theatrical bow, and several of those present cheered at this announcement. They had heard this story before and enjoyed it.

 

Elessar cheered inside, having enjoyed every performance of this historic poem over the years, and he was pretty certain the Green Sisters present, Calia among them, would not be displeased either seeing as Rashima, as he knew from his former Green Bondholders, was the epitome of what it meant to be a Green Sister.

 

Everyone sat captivated as the gleeman’s voice rose in tribute to the ‘Soldier Amyrlin’.

 

A Moment in History..

 

Carried on the Winds of Time..

 

 ●

 

►▼◄

 

Honour to the ‘Soldier Amyrlin’

 

Brave Rashima Kerenmosa! Valiant Sister of the Green

The Flame of Tar Valon, boldest Leader ever Seen

A Sister of Battle, she the Shadow fought with Might

In the Trolloc Wars she battled, gave her Life for the Light

 

A General, a Politician - her Talents were There

She handled situations with Tact and with Care

But as a Military Leader she was Respected by All

She led the Ten Nations through Fire and Gall

 

When Aridhol fell and Manetheren as Well.

Rashima restored morale in the Compact, they Tell

She led the defence of Tar Valon with Strength

When Trollocs attacked the Sedai city at Length

 

Victories followed at Kaisin Pass and Larapelle

The Sorelle Step, Tel Norwin where many soldiers Fell

In the middle of Battle, the Amyrlin fought Strong

To vanquish the Shadow, the Evil, the Wrong

 

The Battle of Maighande was the Beginning of the End

For brave Rashima, though they Conquered, my Friend

The back of the invasion they Broke, the Shadow’s Plan

At Maighande, where ‘the Victory of humankind’ Began

 

Rashima died a hero, with her five Warders Near

Valiant as few! Battle Sister, Honour Clear.

‘Round their bodies a wall of Trolloc corpses’ Stain

With many dead Fades and nine Dreadlords Slain

 

Brave Rashima Kerenmosa! Valiant Sister of the Light

The ‘Soldier Amyrlin’, a Star shining Bright

A Sister of Battle, she’ll be Remembered by All

In the Turning of the Wheel, until Darkness’ Fall

 

►▲◄

 

     ▀▄

[Cass]

Calia smiled, keeping the steely grimness in her heart from the features of her face.

 

Until Darkness' Fall, indeed -

 

She clapped along with the other diners as the gleeman took his bow. 

 

 - regardless of the number of lives overshadowed and extinguished in the efforts.

 

Plural, she highlighted, according to habit. The 'Last Battle', can only be so after all of the efforts that come before it; the ultimate result will be determined by the outcome of each and every thread woven to that point. 

 

She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin subconsciously. Even after all these years, the determination and resolve manifested by that mantra was particularly difficult to diffuse or disguise. 

 

And Light knows the signs are pointing to another, darker uprising of the Shadow - hence us all being here after all!

 

The last thought was enough to remind her she wasn't simply at the Red Fox for the entertainment and pleasures that followed a hearty meal. With a polite nod for the Captain General and another for the Sisters and Gaidin at the table, Cal stood smoothly and prepared to depart, sensibly, for bed. In doing so, she took a moment to survey the members of their present party, spread in small groups around the room. Some, like Lissinda and her longest-serving Warder Malik, along with the Green and Blue Saldaeans Emine and Neve, she knew well, having worked and travelled with each of them many times over. Some, like the Captain-General's youngest Warder Taysun, and Sinahr, Kerin, Mikael and Elessar Gaidin she knew at least by name and sight from various interactions. The remaining Warders and two younger Greens, taught and raised in years she had been away from the Tower, were essentially unknown to her - but had been well spoken for, and had appeared to carry themselves well enough thus far. Each one, Cal noted as she scanned the room, was currently immersed in the Lighter side of life despite the tedium of travel through poor weather that had dominated the day. 

 

A spread of genuine warmth and gratitude infused the flame of resolution at the core of her being.

She knew - she knew - the Shadow was rising again, even as they all sat here listening to heroic songs of the past. And she knew the Wheel would weave as the Wheel willed this time around - as it ever had.

Yet, watching the Tower company, the gleeman and the crowd, she also knew, without a single doubt, that her Sisters, the Gaidin and countless others including herself would continue to fight for the Light and yet another Shadow's fall - shaping threads through hearts and minds and, when necessary, battle after battle after battle until the very last.

 

***

Garg growled. He grunted. He shuffled, stamping his hoofs in growing agitation. The entire fraction of the fist of shadow-brothers that had been sent further South pressed in around him. Terror at the suddenly rising, fast flowing water in their path was unanimous amongst the group, as was the burning torment of the link that bound them all to the eyeless brother who commanded them ever forward. He growled again, his tail whipping side to side in irritation. This was beyond impossible and beyond understanding, and it made his vision mist with red and black. He screamed - the roar of his fury framed by tusks that were still bloody from the most recent feast of human flesh, the frustration and fear in his voice warring with the mad desire to follow orders, follow orders, follow orders and hunt, hunt, hunt, feed and torture and kill, kill, kill some more. He was hungry and he wanted more, now! The brothers with him echoed the cry, stamping and shaking fists and weapons at the ground water and at the sky, all of them waiting, waiting, waiting in agony for it all to just go away. 

 

The Myddraal lifted his head from the throat of his intended victim long enough to hiss through sharpened teeth. As long as none of them died, the wait would fuel his inferior siblings in a forward surge when the water reduced, this he knew. Ceaselessly he fed that thought at them, daggers of commands and images of future flesh and rewards burning across the link even as he turned his attention back to the torture at hand. Patience, brothers! It will not be too much longer now! 

 

He smiled, and the girl clutched in front of him finally screamed.

 

***

 

Soft, grey dawn was slowly pressing its way into the small room via the widely-flung Eastern window. Cal pinned the last of her newly-oiled-and-weatherproofed braids into her bun, took a final critical look at her reflection and then turned her attentions from the looking glass to the barely-visible clouds and sky beyond. 

 

As expected, she surmised. 

 

The rain may have ceased for now, but even in the early, barely-there light, the blanket of cloud above was undeniably absolute - a heavy grey haze that promised a day full of drizzle with the potential for further downpour. She crossed to the window for a closer look at the immediate surrounds and was pleased to note that she was not the only member of the party awake at this hour. Down below, amongst a scattering of puddles, shrouded in morning mist, were movements that belied a Warder working expertly through a series of sword forms. For several moments the mist, muffled steps and lack of light made the anonymous Gaidin a ghost of every Warder she had ever truly loved to watch. As routine and dawn progressed however, mists and ghosts receded to reveal Elessar, clearly dedicated to duty and very much alive, with elements of movement that were uniquely his own. After a few more moments of critical observation, Cal smiled in appreciation and withdrew to re-shutter the window. 

 

From there she swiftly donned her cloak and boots, gathered her pack and departed the room to seek  breakfast en route to the stables. Her hopes were high that the others would be of a like mind in thinking an early start would be ideal in translating to an early arrival at their next destination, and helping them avoid at least an hour or two of rain. She was not disappointed, yet despite the promising start, that entire day and the next ended up passing slowly in bleary blurs of muddy, puddle-pocked roads and washed-out landscapes continuously obscured by rain or mist, or otherwise almost entirely leached of colour in the ever-present greyness conjured by the blanket of clouds. On both accounts the party was unsurprisingly early to bed and early to rise.

 

The following morning Cal awoke even earlier than usual, dawn breaking sharply into her room from across a crisp blue sky. When she arrived in the Common room, the Captain-General and her Warders were already seated at a large table with half-empty plates and Emine, Neve, Sinahr and Mikael were each moving to join them. The others all straggled in one by one ahead of schedule. Everyone appeared  well-rested and clearly enthused by the change in weather. The mood remained jovial throughout the breaking of their fast, saddling of horses, the move to mounting up and the entirety of the day. She managed a brief chat with Elessar, lost count of the times Mikael made her laugh with his antics, and was grateful for the way the weather allowed her conversation and catch up with Neve and Emine - it turned out much had changed and much had stayed the same since she had seen each of them last. The inn they found that evening was more subdued than the Red Fox had been, but nevertheless offered their company and the local crowd an entertainment of sorts - albeit a rather worn-looking gleeman whose tales were simply spoken stories of horror and doom that he swore were true. 

 

The next day dawned as blue and clear as the one before, and with a similarly jovial mood to the last, despite the gloom and doom spouted by the gleeman the night before. Mounted and waiting for the others, Calia found herself smiling at the positive start, doubly so because of the dry road which stretched before them with a distinctly noticeable absence of hoof-sucking mud. 

 

By all rights, that dry road should have made relaxing through the ride easier than each of the last few days. But much to the amusement of the others, especially Neve and Emine, Calia's bay mare was uncharacteristically skittish to the point that she could focus on little else. Cal found herself necessarily on guard in response, both to the horse and the surrounds, ceaselessly scanning the road in all directions. For the most part, it remained empty of both game and other travellers, hazards and anything else she could assume would cause the horse to react. That in itself was both a blessing and a potential concern, but Cal resolved that there was no reason to panic herself just yet. When they stopped and hobbled the horses for lunch, she took her time examining the beast for signs of physical irritation or injury. Other than flaring nostrils and frequent shivers of her hide, the bay was, at least as far as outward appearance could tell, in perfect health. 

 

Removing her lunch of travel-cake and an apple from the saddlebags at hand, Calia eventually returned to the group and sat herself down on the grass in the free space beside Elessar. Not one to beat about the bush after due diligence, she cleared her throat and spoke her mind aloud for everyone to hear.

 

"Something is wrong," she announced. "And it's not the horse."

 

"The road and surrounds are too quiet for a day such as this. At the very least, I think we all need to be more focused and on guard."

[Elessar]

 .. Reflections in Shadow ..

►▼◄

 

His name was Ibram Taghere and he was Commander of the Banikkan Legion.

 

This legion was one of the oldest in Saldaea and prided itself on being its best. It was situated in the north-western part of the nation close to the Banikkan mountain range. It had had its share of Shadowspawn raids through the years and had never been overrun. Ibram Taghere took much pride in that fact and had sworn on his ancestor’s grave that the Shadow would never conquer this part of Saldaea while he was alive.

 

A man of fifty two years, he looked every part the Saldaean. His skin was dark, his eyes brown and his nose bold. There was grey in his hair but he was remarkably fit for his age. Quick in his step and strident in his commands he was someone all the Legion soldiers respected and admired. He had been their Commander for over fifteen years and had no intention to retire any time soon. Except some local magistrates who thought he spoke up a little too often in regional affairs no one had anything negative to say about him. He was an all around hero for people in this part of Saldaea.

 

Walking the perimeter outside the Legion’s military headquarters this late evening, his mind was on the parade they were going to have the next day. The Legion was to be honoured and a high-ranking general was coming from the capital Maradon to attend the ceremony. Taghere - very proud of the honour that was being bestowed upon them - wanted everything to be perfect and kept going over in his mind all the little details that needed to be sorted. A guard saluted him as he passed and then he went up the stairs to his personal quarters on the second floor of the building. Passing through his living room he went out on the balcony and stared silently into the night, his hands on the rails. It was all quiet and still and he stood there for long moments, feeling the slight evening breeze on his face, as slivers of light from the near full moon high above cut through the darkness.

 

He smiled, feeling very much alive.

 

 ●

 

Suddenly he sensed some vibrations in the air.

 

He turned his head and stared around, his eyes questioning, but before he was able to make sense of what it could be, he heard a sound which penetrated his whole being. It was a song unlike any he had ever heard, a seductive melody that caught him in its grip and did not let go. He did  not know it but he was slowly being lulled into a hypnotized daze and he hardly noticed the Draghkar which landed beside him on the balcony.

 

The Shadowspawn resembled an ordinary man except for its unnaturally large eyes, pale skin, gaunt cheeks and a pair of leathery wings. It was slender and tall with very thin, frail arms and hands tipped with sharp talons. Its dark hair was shoulder length and pulled back. Its misshapen mouth had blood red lips containing sharp pointed teeth and now its crooning voice was creeping into the Legion Commander’s soul, slowly sucking it out of the man in what almost appeared as a “kiss”, a “token of affection”, leaving an empty husk. Having devoured the soul, the Draghkar drained the life out of the Commander who sank to the balcony floor dead long before he reached it, his eyes watery and horror-stricken.

 

Mission completed, the Draghkar stared coldly, unemotionally for a long moment at the dead body before it, then it unfolded its wings and flew away into the dark night.

 

The Myrddraal who had sent it would soon know.

 

 ●

 

It was soft grey dawn and clouds blanketed the horizon. Behind the Red Fox inn, amongst a scattering of puddles and shrouded in morning mist, a lone figure prepared to start his early morning training session.

 

The Warder removed his shirt, placing it on a wooden bench off to the side, and then attained guard stance, enveloping himself in the Flame and the Void, that state of mind taught many Warders to reach total calmness within and without.

 

I am one with the sword..

 

 ●

 

Unfolding the Fan, the opening move, which flowed into Low Wind Rising, a diagonal slash which began low and rose cleanly, followed by The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain, a vertical slash starting high and which in this case altered course in mid-swing, paired with Tower of Morning, a vertical slash but this time beginning low and ending high.

In the Void Elessar felt complete calmness and clarity, a participant in a never-ending dance of motion.

 

Attack. Block. Move. Swing. Deflect. Attack. Deflect. Counterblow.

 

Pearls of sweat gradually beaded on his bare chest, arms and forehead as he moved efficiently through the forms, his focus all on his imagined opponent before him.

 

The Falling Leaf and then straight into The River Undercuts the Bank and then smoothly into several other sword forms. Having obtained high skill with the sword Elessar had over time combined forms and even made new ones that were uniquely his own and that fitted his fighting style and he made use of all his skills and improvisations as he flowed through the sword forms.

 

For quite some time he moved from one form into the next, his breath gradually becoming heavier with the exertion, until at last he ended the session with Folding the Fan, sheathing his blade. The sword was smoothly swung around from guard stance and sheathed, all in one motion.

 

He picked up a towel he had brought from his room and brushed off some sweat from his face, arms and torso. The mist had almost cleared and there was no one about though he thought he had sensed a pair of eyes on him earlier; perhaps the stable boy had watched him from afar. He was well pleased with the practice session and felt the better for it. It was not always practical to train during missions like this one but he would take whatever opportunity he got. He walked back into the inn and up to his room and washed himself before dressing and heading down to the Common Room for breakfast with the others.

 

 ●

 

He was pleased to see the others were up early as well and so they would be able to leave early and thereby manage to travel some miles before the rain caught up with them. He had seen the sky that morning and knew that rain would be upon them by midday at least. They did get some hours of travelling before the rain but most of that day and the next one were filled with heavy going in pouring rain and on muddy roads with mist and bleak landscapes. Making camp the party from Tar Valon was unsurprisingly early to bed and early to rise. They reached another inn further north the following day and all appreciated sleeping out of the rain for a change.

 

That morning Elessar woke well-rested to the sight of a crisp blue sky which pleased him. He considered having another training session but changed his mind. With this positive change in weather he presumed (correctly as it turned out) that everyone wanted to leave soon after breakfast and so packed all his belongings and was ready to leave as soon as breakfast in the Common Room was over.

 

Saddling Stormbreaker, Elessar mounted up and took his place at the back of the party. Some of the Aes Sedai were talking at the front and the Captain-General of the Greens looked as committed as ever to this mission as she waved them onwards. Calia turned her head slightly to exchange a word with another Sister but soon faced forwards again. Not for the first time Elessar wondered which of the Warders present was hers. Not that it really mattered, he was just curious. He had not asked around, not wanting to intrude. But he was still curious..

 

The journey continued, across woodland country and in hilly terrain. Elessar kept riding back the road at intervals to ensure there were no surprises, knowing this would be more and more important the further north they came. They would soon be entering what was known to be ‘brigand country’ where lawless men lived by their own rules, robbing and pillaging wherever they could, and so it would be prudent to be vigilant and to take no chances.

 

 ●

 

Stopping to rest the horses later that day, under a canopy of blue skies with intermittent clouds, an opportunity for a brief chat with Calia arose. She was seated on the ground near her horse, her back against a boulder, writing something in what appeared to be a small journal. They were on a hillside amongst large rocks and boulders in somewhat desolate terrain. Elessar gave Stormbreaker a friendly pat on the back, an apple to chew on, and then walked over to Calia.

 

“Please do not let me disturb you, Aes Sedai”, Elessar said formally as he came to stand before her. Some of his former Bondholders had also brought travelling journals to write in on journeys. There was a slight smile on his face as she met his eyes. “But I was wondering if you have travelled these parts before?”

 

She indicated that he could sit and he sat down beside her. If truth be told, he just wanted to talk to her again. Sinahr was often busy talking with the Captain-General and he had few to talk to. He enjoyed the few times they could chat. They talked a little and then he left her to her own devices, returning to take care of his warhorse.

 

 ●

 

That evening they came to another inn. It was more subdued than the Red Fox inn had been, more isolated and with fewer guests, but even so it offered the company shelter and even some entertainment in the form of a gleeman though this one was worn-looking and as gloomy as the tales he told. His performance did not inspire anyone but it was better than having no entertainment at all, as some of the locals freely admitted afterwards.

 

The next day had blue clear skies and promised to be a good day for travelling. The mood in the Common Room was jovial and after breakfast the party went on the road again. It was pleasant to ride on dry ground once again, without the mud which also made it harder for the horses, and Elessar’s mood lightened as the hours passed. They stopped for a rest in early afternoon but soon were off again.

 

The weather was still calm and sunny and should make for a relaxing ride but something was nagging at the back of Elessar’s mind. He stopped, to ride back down the road a few times, but never saw anything or anyone. His gaze swept to the terrain through which they were travelling time and again but he did not spot anything out of the usual. At one point he caught Calia turning in her saddle as if scanning the surroundings too and he wondered if she also had the sense that something was.. wrong. Exchanging a glance with the Gaidin riding beside him the other shrug his shoulders and so Elessar ignored it and let the feeling pass.

 

When next they stopped, Elessar noted that Calia examined her horse as if for signs of physical injury. She stood some distance away but he recognized what she was doing. He too had checked on Stormbreaker at times when the stallion had become skittish or unruly because of a problem with a hoof or some other irritation. It was important to ensure one’s mount was fine considering the long journey they still had ahead of them. He considered asking her if she needed some help but then she seemed satisfied with what she had found and patted her horse on the back before removing something from her saddlebags. She returned to where most of the others now were seated and sat down on the grass in the free space beside Elessar. He gave her a slight smile and took another bite from the dried beef he had brought along from the inn.

 

 ●

 

Soon after Calia cleared her throat and spoke. Her voice carried to everyone present.

 

"Something is wrong," she announced. "And it's not the horse." She continued. "The road and surrounds are too quiet for a day such as this. At the very least, I think we all need to be more focused and on guard."

 

Her words were met with silence. Then Elessar spoke up.

 

“I think you are right, Calia Sedai”. Elessar’s darker voice carried to everyone as well. “I too have sensed something.. off.” His face was serious. He looked at the members of the party in turn. “I have seen no danger anywhere, not either when I have backtracked, but it is too quiet in these surrounds.”

 

“We are entering brigand country now”, he added pointedly, “and must be alert.. and as we know, there is danger in Shadows..”

 

Several Warders nodded knowingly and a few of the Aes Sedai likewise. Others gave him square looks  but said nothing. He thought he saw a slight smile of satisfaction on Calia’s lips beside him but when they exchanged a quick glance a little later her face was Aes Sedai smooth again though there was a glint in her sapphire-blue eyes.

 

 ●

 

“Brigands!”

 

Elessar’s dark and powerful voice carried strongly to everyone in the party ahead as he came riding towards them from behind. He had backtracked and had discovered the brigands slyly trying to come upon them unawares. They were some distance behind him on the road but the heavy sound of horses’ hooves could be heard.

 

“They are at least thirty in number!”, Elessar shouted from horseback as he closed on the group from Tar Valon.

 

“Make ready!”

 

The other Warders heard his command and drew their swords. The more experienced had come upon brigands before and knew that that sort readily attacked anyone anywhere. Possibly they did not know there were Aes Sedai in this party of travellers. Possibly they knew and did not care. Whatever was the case, this was a threat that need be dealt with.

 

Elessar came to an abrupt halt before the group and turned Stormbreaker to face the threat.

 

He held his blade in his hand and his eyes tightened dangerously.

 

It was late afternoon and the skies were azure-blue. Soon though the sun would run red with blood.

 

 ●

 

He sat silently in the Darkness, contemplating his next move.

 

Touching the sleeve of his dark cloak, he ran his fingers over the thread of silver running down the sides of the expensive cloth. The cloak had been tailor made and constructed of the finest material. Only the best was good enough for Samos. Grinning to himself, he removed the emerald ring from his right ring finger and felt its smooth circular surface.

 

Esthadion, you deserved the traitor’s death. You betrayed the Great Lord. You forsook your Oath!

 

He remembered with delight making sure Esthadion took a very long time to die. The horrifying screams the man had made when Samos had plucked out his eyeballs with a blunt knife had made him feel rapture. The Great Lord would be pleased. Caressing the emerald ring lovingly, enjoying its touch and the huge pleasure it gave him to know it had been the traitor’s prized possession, he placed it back on his right ring finger and sighed contentedly.

 

He was seated in a small secret chamber beneath his house. It had been constructed years earlier, the door to the chamber almost invisible from above, and was dark and damp but he did not mind. He enjoyed the darkness and the solitude and down here he had total privacy. It made it easier for him to think. And to plan. Those others were fools. Cowards. Pretending to be hard, pretending to be ruthless, but they were soft inside. Even so, they were needed for the work ahead and so Samos tolerated them. They had each received a task to carry out in the city. Each needed to be successful, or they would pay the price.

 

No one shall endanger this mission!

 

●

 

Standing up at last, he walked over to a small table in the corner and lit a candle light. Its burning flame mirrored the intensity in his soul. On the table lay a large book. Its light-brown leather binding was very old, the spine worn and the lettering on the front almost faded. By the light coming from the candle it was just possible to discern the book title:

 

“Reflections in Shadow”

 

Opening the forbidden book ever so carefully, touching its pages with reverence, he leafed through several chapters until he found the one he was looking for. The page was yellow because of its old age but the passages, symbols and inscriptions were still readable.

 

In the middle of the page, written in a woman’s beautiful flowing script, was a prophecy.

 

Samos had gone over it a dozen or more times since he had found this very rare - and dangerous to keep - book in a secret compartment in an old oak desk in a hidden private library in the city of Cairhien many years before, but he still had not been able to decipher all its meaning. There were hidden truths and clues therein, he felt sure - signs and portents - and he needed to understand their meaning.

 

There was glory and power in understanding.

 

Glory for the Shadow - and Glory for him.

 

I need to know!

 

Samos’ eyes glowed intensely with eagerness and burning anticipation in the semi-darkness as he read the prophecy another time.

 

 ●

 

In the Twilight of Time, He shall Rise again

To Turn the Key Forever locked

Lost in Shadows!

 

The Light that is Not burns

The Wind trembles with cries

The Mirror within breaks!

 

He shall Take our souls

He shall revel in our blood

Oh Deliverance, Great Lord!

 

Trample the Stone to dust

Let the Screams begin

Beg for your Salvation!

 

 

From

The Prophecies of the Shadow

381 NE, the 3^rd Age

Author unknown

 

    ▀▄

[Cass]

Smothering a cry of alarm, Saldaean Soldier Asan Kamil Kamadi darted across the last five paces of the Commander's living room and sank suddenly to his knees at the threshold to the balcony. He dropped his hand from the hilt of the unsheathed knife at his hip and unconsciously balled it into a fist so tight the skin over his dark knuckles blanched.

 

Eyes wide in horror, he stared, frozen and unable to do anything else. Soft grey dawn filtered through the balcony's stone balusters - gently seeping lines of light stretching feebly towards the unmoving, crumpled figure on the landing, fighting the greying shadows every inch of the way.

 

The kneeling soldier squeezed his eyes shut against the sight before him, as if not seeing now could erase the horror of ever having witnessed the uniform in front of him so dishevelled and the body within it so pale and uncharacteristically, deathly still. He tried to centre himself, for once finding it near impossible, despite the years of training and tips he had curated under the guidance of this very man who was now a shell.

 

He drew deep, unsteady breath. Childhood heroes were never meant to die like this - not without steel in their hands, not with streams of light struggling to cut through simple shadows. When Asan opened his eyes, it was to a greyness darker than that which had existed before. There was absolutely no doubting that the morning light had utterly failed to defy the blanket of cloud on the horizon. And there was also no doubt that Ibram Taghere, Commander of the Banikkan Legion, Hero of Saldaea, was very, very much dead.

 

 

***

 

"Brigands!"

 

Calia wheeled her horse around towards Elessar's cry in time to see Stormbreaker charging back to the group as if he'd just outrun a hoard of trollocs.

 

" - at least thirty in number! Make ready!"

 

In practiced manoeuvres, the Warders drew swords and fanned out into protective positions around the group, sunlight shifting over the fabric of their cloaks in ways that made them difficult for the eyes to see. The area they were in today was much the same as yesterday, Cal noted for the millionth time that day - desolate and dotted with boulders and only the occasional small stand of trees. The fancloaks reflected these features almost perfectly - the moving Warders were little more than hazy shapes preceded by sharp and gleaming blades of steel now.

 

Saidar bloomed around Calia and every other Sister present, the sudden shimmer highlighting their forms for one another against the azure blue sky. She breathed slow and deep, inspired by the intensified brilliance of the day, the smell of sunshine on the road and larger rocks, the small amounts of moisture still in the air and ground below their feet.

 

With a nod at Elessar for his warning, Cal cast a grinning smile at him and drew deep enough from the Source that every single one of her Sisters turned their head her way in curiosity. Recalling the conversation she'd had against the boulders with Elessar the day before, Cal grinned wryly. Yes, she had travelled these parts many, many times, and yes, she believed the problem of brigands was getting worse, but surely still nothing they wouldn't be able to handle...

 

She chuckled softly to herself as the youngest Greens continued to stare in confusion at the circlet she was weaving and stretching ever-outward with thin tangles of Spirit and Air and Fire. She supposed it did look unconventional, drawing so much of the Power to craft such tiny threads, especially in a moment where there was no immediate need or allowance in the Oaths for weapons. But she wasn't crazy, yet. Raising an eyebrow at them along with her arms, Cal lifted the weave overhead and continued spinning the circle around and out, as though she was stretching dough at superspeed. In the next instant, four such bands were stretching outward from the centre of the group at a shocking speed - Lissinda, Emine and Neve had apparently recognised her boundary circlet weave and agreed this was another perfect excuse to put it to good use.

 

Cal's eyes sparkled as she and the others settled the 'defensive' boundary circles into position and tied them off. The threat of thirty brigands against their party of fourteen might not yet equate with a situation that required or allowed weapons a 'last extreme defence' of their lives, but a risk definitely existed and could not be entirely ignored. If these defensive perimeters exploded fireworks along with the Saidar wherever they were touched, it was to signal the distance and location of potential attacks from any direction -   a perfect warning signal for those in their party not linked to the One Power, really. 

 

The boundary crossing would be but a fraction of the fight, if it came to it, she knew. She scanned the area around them, weighing up the areas of access and egress, the spots away from the roadside where water still pooled, the areas of dry underbrush and twigs that might catch easily alight. 

 

Suddenly, there was a heated buzz in her boundary ward, followed immediately by the  sounds of chaos down the road. Fire, Air and Spirit tangles exploded upwards with several enormous BANG-BANG-BANG-BANGs, men yelled - some in surprise and some in pain;  horses screamed and shied dramatically, thundering into the area out of control. 

 

Calia watched Elessar lift his sword to the ready, sparks of light bouncing out from the polished blade, gleaming in the sun, and Stormbreaker, beneath her new friend, looking like every bunched up muscle of his black was beyond ready to spring forward on command. Her own Bay was twitching, ears pricked resolutely forward, towards the direction Elessar had come from. Cal noted the body-language, and wondered if that truly meant no threats currently existed behind.

 

Whether they had figured it for an Aes Sedai-related warning system, or something else, the Brigands kept coming towards their group with their wild charge through the perimeters that had been set. Elessar's warning had been correct in count too, it seemed - a quick sweep of the oncoming figures showed their party was well and truly outnumbered by 3-4. Cal gritted her teeth together and set her lips into a thin line, wondering why humans would turn on one another the way these ones intended to do to them.

 

And suddenly, a surprisingly tall man on a dappled grey stallion made an aggressive beeline for Elessar, sword raised, mouth opened in a yell. Behind him charged three others at a similar pace.

 

Blue eyes fixed on the scene, Calia drew the Source into herself and felt the familiar sharpening of senses and bliss of  being connected with the Saidar, and well and truly alive. She was not alone in her readiness and related bliss - the tug of the One Power flowed through and around every able member of their group. This stampede of brigands was definitely an act of aggression and attack. Like the thugs in Tar Valon, these Brigands were not exactly Shadowspawn, but they were a threat to the ways of Light and Good, and the party from Tar Valon would stand united against them.

 

To that effect, Cal quickly wove a wide Blue thread of Water with one hand and an incredibly viscous cloud of Air, Water and Spirit in the other. She sent both of these to the ground immediately in  between Elessar and the oncoming bandits, drawing as much Water as she could into the space, weaving it into the soil in the little time they had, and thickening the air above the boggy marsh that slowly spread through the affected ground. Again more defense than attack mechanism, Calia knew, but she also knew the weavings would serve a useful purpose, and still help to significantly slow the oncoming horses and would-be-bandits down...

 

***

 

The pace the split-fist was retaining was much improved, though progress seemed slow at this part in their trek, and Garg could not figure out why. He trotted on with heavy steps and foul, heavy breaths alongside his brothers, each and every one of them all snuffing and puffling this way and that, chasing signs of the living, blood, flesh.

 

The chant of the Myddraal continued to drive them forward, ever present in their minds. Faster, Faster, Faster brothers! It yelled. A feast awaits!

[Elessar]

  .. A Darkness in Several Colours ..

►▼◄

 

Shining silver eyes broke the unending darkness of the forest.

 

Nothing moved in the shadows, it was as if the forest was waiting.

 

A deadly predator in the night, it stared coldly through the trees at the meadow in the distance. Its heart beat like a deep drum pounding, the thrill of the chase flowing through its veins. Saliva dripped from its mouth, corrosive and deadly, and its razor-sharp teeth were wet with delicious blood.

 

The rest of the pack waited behind, ten in all, shadows darker than night, their breaths so shallow almost not to be heard. It felt the call of the one who had sent it on this hunt, like a receding echo in its mind. It thirsted for more blood.

 

For the kill.

 

For fulfillment.

 

 ●

 

Moving silently through the brush, it then suddenly picked up pace and the thrill that overwhelmed it as it felt all its Brothers following in its wake, shadows among shadows, almost drowned out the images in its mind, the images of the Aes Sedai it had been sent to kill.

 

The huge beasts of night rushed into the meadow, many the size of small horses, some even a bit larger, black furs glistening with dew from late evening rain, muzzles red and dripping. Large paws made no mark on the soft ground of the grass but left prints on the patches of intermittent stone at meadow’s end, the whiff of burned sulfur and something stagnant left in their wake, as the pack surged relentlessly forward in the night.

 

The silver eyes of the Darkhounds were almost feverish with delight.

 

Blood awaited.

 

The Dark Hunt had begun.

 

 ●

 

Fanning out into protective positions around the group, the Warders drew their swords and stood ready.

 

Their colour-shifting cloaks made of fancloth mimicked the surroundings and made them harder to see, the sunlight almost running through the fabric in thin streams of air. They were in a desolate region dotted with boulders and with intermittent stands of trees. It was not the best of places to make one’s stand but certainly not the worst either. They could see some distance both ahead and behind. One of the Gaidin rode up the road a ways to make sure the attack was not coming from both sides while the other Warders faced the attackers.

 

Elessar waited patiently atop his black warhorse, his blade drawn and gleaming with sharp steel, as the brigands stormed towards them. Part of him was tempted to attack the first riders, to break the onslaught, but he had a responsibility to safeguard the Aes Sedai together with the other Gaidin and so he waited, spearheading the formation at the back.

 

Stormbreaker, an experienced warhorse of many years, felt the impending thrill of the fight from his rider and shuffled his feet, mirroring the excitement of the Gaidin. Elessar spoke soothing words to his mount while his dark eyes watched the oncoming horde. He knew the Aes Sedai were preparing in their own way behind him but his focus was only ahead. In the Flame and the Void he was calm and immersed, one with his blade and with his surroundings. He did not have the strength of a Bondholder to draw from, an ache he was unable to completely ignore, but he was a highly skilled and battle-hardened Warder of many years and few were those who would get past him.

 

 ●

 

Something made him partly turn in his saddle, perhaps it was instinct, perhaps something else, and he saw Calia give him a nod for his warning and a grinning smile. He gave an almost imperceptible nod back before facing the onrushing brigands again. He could not say how but he somehow knew they could count on Calia to fight hard and very proficiently. He did not know why that thought entered his mind - of course they could count on her, and on all the other Sisters! - but the thought brought a dark smile to his very serious face.

 

Suddenly sounds of chaos broke the silence! It came from further down the road between the party from Tar Valon and the brigands.

 

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG

 

Elessar quickly understood the Aes Sedai had created some kind of defensive wards which had now been broken. His former Bondholders had used wards also though they had never told him the specifics. Men yelled in surprise and pain and there could be heard the sound of screaming horses. The Warder could imagine the chaos as horses shied dramatically from their path, thundering into the surrounds out of control. Elessar grinned with approval and lifted his sword once again, sparks of light bouncing out from the polished blade, gleaming in the brilliance of the sun. Stormbreaker, ears pricked resolutely forward, stood ready to spring onward on command.

 

The brigands, the ones who had not been thrown or flustered, came rushing forward in a wild charge. Elessar could see them clearly now. His count had been accurate and the group still counted many times their number. The Warder’s eyes narrowed. It would be a tough fight but these highwaymen and outlaws would still find it hard to overcome Warders and Aes Sedai.

 

 ●

 

Suddenly the front leader of the brigands, a huge man atop a dappled grey stallion, headed straight for Elessar, his blade held high, yelling loudly. Three others charged close behind him, screaming just as wildly. They were twenty or so paces away when suddenly the ground between the Warder and the brigands moved.. or so it seemed to Elessar.. it lost all solidity, the soil becoming a wet and boggy marsh which stopped the onrushing horses in their tracks. Their horses sank into the mire, some throwing their riders, and struggled to move.. The lead horse almost stumbled and the ones some way behind him shied away, trying to get to more solid ground.

 

Elessar made use of the surprise!

 

He drove Stormbreaker forward, using the drier patches on the side, and crashed into the grey stallion, his warhorse well accustomed to this war-maneuver, making the huge brigand leader lose his footing and fall off his horse. Elessar swung his blade at the closest rider, who was panicking from this shocking development - there were channelers in this travelling party! -  and felt his sword bite into the other man’s shoulder. Behind him another Warder fought one of the other brigands but Elessar turned his horse to look for the leader. The man truly was massive, almost seven feet tall with arms the size of small tree-trunks. He had long blond hair, a broken nose and a scarred face. He rose to his feet, picked up his sword, and stared balefully at the Warder, his mouth twisted in an ugly smile. Elessar gave him a deadly grin - and charged at him!

 

The huge man just managed to avoid the clean strike at his head and threw several curses Elessar’s way as the Warder turned his horse around. Shouts and screams were all around but the Warder ignored it all as he focused on the brigand leader. This band of outlaws would not be stopped in any other way than force and he would protect the Aes Sedai party with his life. Another brigand horse with a screaming rider flew by, heading for the Aes Sedai. Elessar kept his focus on the leader who dared him to get off his horse and fight him man to man. It was becoming more difficult to maneuver Stormbreaker on the dry patches and so Elessar of Kandor accepted the challenge.

 

 ●

 

Jumping off his warhorse, sword in hand, getting the mount safely out of the way, he stepped up to the armed brigand leader and stopped a few feet away. Elessar was not a small man by any account but he had to look up at the grinning face of the leader. The man spat and then laughed viciously at the Warder. Elessar just stared coldly back at him. He knew from experience that speed was the key to overcome a larger and physically stronger opponent. A larger man may have the added strength but he would usually be slower in his movements. Speed is the key. Elessar waited and waited.. and then.. the huge brute attacked. His swings were heavy and strong but the highly skilled Warder parried easily.

 

The brigand leader attacked fiercely a second time, pushing against Elessar’s left side, but the Gaidin deflected this move also, blocking aptly. They circled each other while chaos continued around and then Elessar attacked with several complex sword forms, his footwork quick, landing a blow against the brute’s shoulder. He grunted and swore and Elessar took advantage of the big man being slightly off balance. Spinning around him and twisting his sword nearest the hilt, the Warder moved inside his guard and landed a vicious cut on the man’s right thigh. Blood streamed from the wound and the brute cried out, throwing himself at Elessar in an all out attack. The experienced Warder had anticipated this, however. Elessar quickly reversed his grip on his sword, his blade snapping back in a way that was previously impossible, he ducked low and spun underneath the brute’s weapon and got back on his feet in one fluid motion.

 

The brute was slowing down but managed to cut into Elessar’s shoulder in a freak move where the Warder got slightly off balance due to the soggy soil they had stepped into. The wound was shallow, however, and Elessar managed to fight competently on despite it, ignoring the pain. It all ended the way it had to. The brigand leader came at him with an overhand blow and Elessar used his speed to sidestep slightly, using his own sword to hit the top of the other man’s, driving it down farther than the man had intended, spinning inside and getting inside his defenses. The blade quickly shot up pressed against the brute’s neck and struck a fatal blow. The huge man screamed a final time and fell to the ground, blood gushing out of his large wound, his sword dropping. The light of the world left his eyes.

 

 ●

 

Elessar did not take the time nor the satisfaction to dwell on his victory, but swept his gaze around to get a quick picture of how everything else was going. He was panting from the exertion and wished again that he could have the increased stamina that was one of many benefits of being Bonded to a Sister of the White Tower. It would take him much longer to get fatigued when Bonded.

 

Brushing the thought from his mind, gathering his breath for the next challenge, he realized that no one was coming at him. Ahead he saw that a few horses were still bogged down in the mire, their riders trying in vain to pull them out, and off to the side a couple of riders were fleeing the scene.

 

Turning back toward the party he saw several Warders in sword fights with outlaws and some Aes Sedai protecting them all. A little further along he saw Calia atop her bay mare her hands raised. Her eyes blazed with determination and she looked a regal figure. He smiled at the sight.

 

So focused had he been that it was only then that Elessar truly registered the fire in the air and the explosions everywhere!

 

 ●

 

Standing before the Waygate, the fists of Shadowspawn waited.

 

The Waygate was a large structure of stone with two pillars on a raised platform, with steps leading up to the platform. Unopened, there was nothing between the pillars, just open air. But the Myrddraal knew all would change once it was opened. He knew how to open a Waygate - and he knew what waited beyond. He also knew the potential danger, what rested within the Ways, what they needed to avoid..

 

Gazing for a long moment at the structure, the Fade finally walked up the steps and moved a specific leaf, a stone key, on the outside of the gate. A shimmering mirror-like portal slowly came into view. It seemed to suck the waning light of twilight from the bleak surroundings of the Blight like a living creature that had lain dormant for too long. Turning to face the three fists of Trollocs waiting on the plateau behind, he raised a hand defiantly in the air and a screech left his jagged teeth mouth. Ordering the fists of Trollocs inside, waiting until the last snuffling and slightly reluctant creature had entered, he then closed the Waygate behind them and gazed with his unseen eyes into the Darkness.

 

Marching the Trollocs further into the Ways, carrying torches at intervals, the Fade looked for the signs that showed the path they were to take. He had travelled the Ways several times before but even so it was easy to get lost among the myriad of pathways that existed in this illogical place as suspended platforms, bridges and stairs crisscrossed in a confusing way that sometimes did not feel constant.

 

Paths linked areas known as Islands, he had once been told. Each island contained a navigational marker; a large slab of stone covered in Ogier script called a Guiding. The Myrddraal had been taught the importance of these markers and rudimentarily how to read them. He had also been taught about Machin Shin.

 

The Fade did not fear many things in this world but he had to admit that this Black Wind that existed in these Ways made him.. uncomfortable. And so they made sure to avoid it whenever possible. It could sometimes be heard as a whisper or an echo of an echo in the far distance and even battle-hardened Trollocs looked wary whenever the sound came upon them.

 

 ●

 

The Myrddraal recalled the one time they had been caught by the Black Wind.. a slight breeze had suddenly been felt upon their skin in a place where there was ordinarily no movement of air, then a roaring sound had been heard coming from everywhere all at once - and panic had erupted among the Trollocs! As Machin Shin lustily consumed the souls of its victims, half a fist lost to the Black Wind in screeching agony, the Myrddraal had fled (or retreated as he liked to think of it) with the remaining Trollocs down another pathway. He remembered well - and would do whatever he could to avoid the Black Wind.

 

He would, in truth, have avoided the Ways on this mission altogether if possible, there were much safer means of travel, but he had been ordered to use them to save time. And he knew that they would save several days of travelling. He passed the second fist almost gliding past in the way of Fades, a shadow moving sleekly among shadows, passing Trollocs of all kinds but all huge, strong, armoured, battle-hungry and filled with bloodlust. He was linked or bound with these Trollocs - and they marched as one.

 

There were several bands of Trollocs working together on this mission, however. Bhan'sheen, Dha'vol and Kno'mon. It was not common that different bands cooperated but the Myrddraal had forced them to, putting such fear into the creatures that they had accepted it. They had grumbled at first but after the Fade had killed two of their number for insubordination and threatened harshly anyone who would disobey, the rest had fallen into line. Making them focus on the feast of flesh and blood they would enjoy once they reached their destination helped, as it always did.

 

A river of blood awaited them once they reached where they were going.

 

 ●

 

Stopping by one of the markers in the semi-darkness much much later, the Myrddraal checked it well to ensure they chose the right path onwards. There was a bridge off to the left that lead to a higher level, stone walls glistening with what looked like dew, and a path that continued swerving rightwards into the shadows.

 

Straightening, nodding to himself, he looked at the closest Trolloc, a huge beast with the snout of a goat atop a huge armoured body carrying a monstrous battle-axe, and his jagged teeth widened in an evil grin. The Myrddraal touched his black armour with overlapping scales and a black cloak reverently, anticipation building.

 

They were close now. To their destination.

 

Southern Saldaea.

 

And a feast of blood.

 

      ▀▄ 

[Cass]

The line of Calia's lips twitched, a "tch" of disapproval fighting to escape from behind her teeth as she watched the majority of the brigands continue on the attack - despite the clear warnings she and her Sisters had laid out.

 

Of all the ale-spills to try and slurp..! 

 

Idiots!

 

Cal cut and tied the weaves to the boggy mire she had created, satisfied to see it was proving deep and thick enough to hold man and horse alike - and providing a buffer between the onslaught and those she would protect.

 

The tug and flow of Saidar was everywhere around her. Fireballs were now flying through the air courtesy of Lissinda, Emine and one of the younger Greens. And thanks to the other two, dirt exploded again and again in violent blasts in front of the oncoming horses and men. Men who, for the most part, did not stop.

 

That the would-be-bandits were continuing to advance towards and against Warders, and in the clear presence of Aes Sedai, was testament to levels of sheer stubbornness, dangerous desperation or specific targeting. Any or all of the above meant a threat to her comrades' lives and the party's greater purpose in being there. 

 

Cal pressed her lips back into a tight line. This was not the type of battle they were here for. Still, it was the battle with which they were presently faced. She breathed deep and opened every fibre of her being wider to the familiar wash of the One Power. Light, colour, intensity and connection bloomed bright in the world around her, through her - as always with the sensation she felt as much as saw. She sensed the pools and waves of every Element waiting to be drawn in to threads, called into weaves. Awareness of the immediate environment flooded in, around and through her.

She thrust a sudden shield of Air towards an oncoming bandit, two razor thin, lightning-fast streaks of Fire racing ahead before it. The man was screaming incomprehensibly, urging his mount recklessly at full gallop towards the Aes Sedai. His wild black hair whipped behind him as he charged, one hand on the reins, the other holding aloft a sword that did not gleam.

 

One of the Fire threads severed a flailing stirrup strap mid-way to a kick at the horse's belly, the other sliced through the upheld reins on an upswing of the man's arm. On the downswing, Cal slammed the shield in front of his chest and shoulders, allowing the outstretched arm to sink through to the elbow and slowing the forward motion of his head with a slightly softer patch of weave at the last instant. The man's scream arrested abruptly on impact. His body lifted from the saddle, one leg still caught momentarily in a stirrup, and then crashed to the ground. Cal anchored the shield to the spot, pinning the man's torso and gagging his gaping mouth with Air for good measure before the screaming could resume. She tied off the weaves as the horse careered away to the side, the one attached stirrup and the remains of the reins flicking wildly as it thundered past.

 

Cal switched her focus the instant the weaves were tied. She scanned the entire scene before her once more, eyes snapping to the various points of combat where Warders danced against the bandits in fierce flashes of fan-cloak and blurring blades. Even without the benefit of a bond, she could single out each and every one of the Gaidin. With a smile she noted the entire Tower party remained relatively well-positioned,  each member competently holding their own.

 

In the midst of the chaos near the boggy mire, Elessar's fight with the large man from the dappled horse drew her attention - not for the first time. It appeared the warder had continued to take advantage of the change in terrain and had managed to best the aggressor from his horse. As she watched, Power flowing through her at the ready, the Gaidin danced around his foe, spinning and twisting with a powerful combination of nimble footwork and well-practiced forms. His blade was both quick to parry and quick to attack. Cal smiled in appreciation, watching in satisfaction as steel bit into the brute's shoulder and thigh and the Warder switched grip and ducked low, flowing flawlessly away from the retaliatory attack. She winced at the blow to Elessar's shoulder, gritting her teeth at the blossoming blood. When she next looked back, both men were standing on the edge of the marshy ground, energy flagging. In the same instant that she returned her gaze, Elessar suddenly sidestepped, knocked the brute's blade down and sliced up into his neck, ending the fight. And that was that.

 

In the next instant, Lissinda sent a fireball to Cal's left. Cal whirled in time to see it take down a brigand who had been charging for, and had almost reached, one of the younger Greens from behind. Cal raised an eye at Lissinda in question, lifting her own hands and releasing a cyclonic gust of Air that repelled the two other would-be attackers who had been charging from the same direction. 

 

She was annoyed now. True darkfriends these men were likely not, but they were clearly not bursting with efforts towards the side of the Light, either. Amaya almost taken by surprise, blood soaking across Elessar's shoulder - at the hands of these men. She was sure there would be other injuries among their party too. Enough was enough.

 

Mists? she signed at Liss in question, blue eyes blazing.

 

The woman nodded an affirmative, calling and signalling for the Saldeans to join them - it was time.

 

Cal slipped from her bay and muffled the mare's ears, eyes and nose with a mix of Air and Spirit. No need for her to be affected by what was about to happen, and Cal really had no desire to go chasing after her horse when this was done.

 

The four of them stood a moment, channelling darkness through a thick and roiling mist. They allowed the mist to spread out and around their party.  Then the four of them stepped forward, in unison, Air and Water whipping in a violent frenzy before them as they advanced.

 

As they walked, they each wove Mirror of Mists, stretching the weaves so they grew impossibly taller with every step. The Warders that were linked to the other women involved had seen this before, as had Sinahr Gaidin, she was sure. She trusted they would be well forewarned, and the others would both notice and know how to get out of the way in plenty of time.

 

Step by step the four advanced, taller and taller. Cal kept her hands up in front of her. She drove shuddering rams of Spirit into the ground with every step, making it seem as if the advancing Sedai could shake the very foundations of the Earth. Wind and rain whipped around them, increasingly vicious circles that shot outwards in sharp intervals, assailing attackers who remained on the road around them, drawing their attention away from whatever fight they had previously had at hand. None of that mattered now, for sure.

 

Suddenly, dark clouds billowed from the ground in front of the four, the glow of Saidar crackling around them, and lightening streaked from the sky to illuminate clouds and Aes Sedai one by one. Cal turned her head to the two young Greens with a nod of appreciation and recognition for their contribution. She was liking those two more and more. Effective, she thought, keeping careful pace with the others and feeding as much fury as she could muster into her outward facade.

 

The four of them weaving Mirror of Mists were impossible not to notice now. Even those who had not been redirected with wind and rain were slowing in their movements at this point, staring agape at the way the women were looming larger and larger with every step in the eerie light until they were undeniably the size of giants. As they grew, each of the ageless Aes Sedai faces twisted with menace and disapproval.

 

"ENOUGH!" the Sisters yelled, weaving their voices into a single, monstrous roar. Every enemy blade left on the road was frozen in place, or dropped to the ground. Hands lifted to cover ears. A number of men turned and fled. Warders fanned out around their Sisters, cloaks whipping in the wind, swords ready. Cal released the weaves on the shield-pinned man, and rolled him down the road in a tumble of Air.

 

"LEAVE! NOW! WALK IN THE LIGHT, OR DISSAPEAR WITH THE SHADOWS. 

THE CHOICE. IS. YOURS!"

 

The words boomed, thunder clattered relentlessly overhead, and innumerable bolts of lightening spread through the sky and shot to the ground in an electric arc around the attacking line.

 

"NOW!" The monstrous voice boomed over the thunder.

 

Every single non-Tower horse and man fled back the way they had come - wind, rain, thunder, lightening and a number of Warders chasing them down the path.

 

As she released her weaves and turned to tend to her horse and anyone that needed healing, Cal noted the number of bodies lifeless on the now war-torn ground, and shook her head. She could only hope that the experience would afford the Tower party an certain amount of rest and peace in the night and days to come, and keep the others who'd been involved a little more on the straight and narrow.

Edited March 10, 2023 by Cass
.

[Elessar]

  .. Reflections in Mirrors  ..

►▼◄

 

A bird must fly. A man must breathe. I must kill.

 

The Gholam’s dark eyes narrowed as it crept silently through the darkness of the Saldaean night. The words echoed in its mind as they had on numerous occasions before. It was who it was, what it was. It was its soul purpose in life.

 

And it did not mind.

 

It looked like a man with slender sandy hair, oval shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and a normal shaped nose, its features quite unremarkable. It was, however, no man.

 

It savoured the thought of the kill to come; the fresh blood it needed to live. Bloodlust rushed through its veins as it rounded a corner of the Cordamora Palace. The palace, home of the Saldaean Royal Family, was a large structure located in the northern part of the capital on a small hill overlooking the surrounding area and it was well guarded. The guards stood no chance against the Gholam, however and it had left several bodies in its wake on the grounds, rending the victims limb from limb and tearing their throats out before feeding. It took its time, the taste of blood remaining in its mouth as it progressed through the grounds, but the main prize lay ahead.

 

The Aes Sedai it had been sent to kill.

 

 ●

 

It relished the thought of the channeler’s blood, taking the human’s life, draining her lifeforce, and the lasting euphoria it knew awaited.

 

Turning another corner, it sneaked up on yet another guard and slit his throat with its bare hands, feeding on the blood before moving on. It moved with stealth and agility up some steps, past several white columns and through a slit in an otherwise closed door. Well inside, it stopped to listen. It did not fear anything, it had never met an opponent who could endanger it, but it planned to kill the Aes Sedai swiftly and leave silently with no one the wiser.

 

Lights on the walls at intervals lit up the corridor which was empty at present. The Gholam nodded to itself and then headed up the aisle, ignoring the huge ancient painting on the wall which depicted a famous Borderlander-battle from history, eyes fixed on the door at the very end. It had been told that this door led to another corridor and near the end on the right was the Tower Sister’s private room. It could detect her now and a thrill went through its body. She was the White Tower Advisor to the Ruler of Saldaea, a woman named Serindhra Salganes of the Green Ajah.

 

The Gholam would soon feast on her flesh.

 

 ●

 

Serindhra awoke with a start from her deep sleep. She did not know what had awakened her because her room was dark and silent, but she felt an instinctive danger. Pushing the sleeping blankets away, she crept out of her bed, embracing Saidar in a protective shield around her. The feeling of the One Power gave her delight as always but her focus was elsewhere just now. Her green eyes gazed into the darkness and tried to discover what had disturbed her peaceful sleep.

 

She had gone early to bed after several heated discussions with the Queen of Saldaea regarding the urgent developments west and south in the nation. There was danger from the Blight, Shadowspawn armies were on the march, and she has urged the Queen to act but for some reason the Ruler of Saldaea bided her time, arguing that these ‘skirmishes’, as she called them, were common in Saldaea and she would not put the Saldaean army on alert before they had any conclusive proof that this threat was anything more than just that, a regular threat. Pushing the frustration from her mind, the Aes Sedai threw a blouse over her shoulder, and then waited.

 

There was nothing.

 

Strengthening the shield of Saidar around her, shaking her head, she pursed her lips and was almost ready to abandon the mistaken belief of danger when a tiny sound reached her enhanced hearing and she felt a shadow creeping into the room. Her mouth opened in a silent whisper and her heart stopped a beat.

 

Something was moving near the door..

 

She could not see any figure but the hairs on her back stood on end. Pressing her lips into a tight line, she gathered herself and channeled and a ball of light lit up the whole room! The blazing ball hovered in the air above her and she stared. Before her, seven feet or so away, stood a man. Serindhra did not have time to wonder how the man had been able to enter her room because he stepped toward her with no hesitance, an ugly smile on his face. He looked otherwise unremarkable with the kind of features one would easily pass in a crowd.

 

Was he a male channeler!? What is going on!?

 

She tightened her resolve and faced the oncoming figure with Aes Sedai pride, hiding her insecurity.

 

 ●

 

“Who are you!?” She enquired, her voice more confident than she in truth felt. “What are you doing here!?”

 

The man did not stop, nor did he answer. When he was four feet away he simply leapt at her in a move so sudden and agile that she was too late to react. Screaming out, she felt his hands on her throat burrowing into her skin.

 

HOW had he gone through her protective shield!? Who was he!?

 

The thoughts spun in her mind for half a second but then she focused all her being on staying alive. She used Air to push him off her - but it had no effect! Channeling weaves that should have killed him did not seem to touch him.

 

HOW is it possible!? The weaves seemed to dissolve before touching him and that was impossible.

 

IMPOSSIBLE!!

 

Her eyes were wide with fear now and they both tumbled to the floor beside the bed, his hands grabbing her throat in a fatal grip which she was unable to dislodge.

 

The Aes Sedai tried a final time to push him off her, her screams drowning..

 

Her entire being struggling in the knowledge that death was taking her, IMPOSSIBLY so!

 

.. as he slowly crushed her throat, then her spine and finally her skull.

 

 ●

 

Her lifeless eyes, gazing endlessly into the beyond, were pools of blood streaming down a formerly handsome feminine face.

 

Feasting on the blood of the dead Sister of the White Tower, savouring the sweet taste, the Gholam felt the euphoria it had anticipated and its whole body shook with ecstatic pleasure.

 

Leaving the room a little later, slipping beneath the door frame almost like grey mist, it soon became a Shadow in the night.

 

 ●

 

A thick and roiling mist slowly swept over them all, bringing impenetrable darkness.

 

Elessar turned to face the oncoming mist and saw the four Aes Sedai growing taller and taller as they commanded the outlaws to desist. Wind and rain followed and swept everyone before them. Elessar knew what was happening, having experienced this Power-wrought Illusion once with his former Bondholder Leandreen. He could not fail to be impressed once again as the huge figures approached, their Ageless Aes Sedai faces twisted with menace and disapproval!

 

His dark eyes widened, and he thought:

 

Woe to anyone who stands in the way of the White Tower!

 

He knew enough to get safely out of the way and stepped wisely off to the side as the linked Sisters, surrounded by several Warders, passed by in swirling dust and mist.

 

 ●

 

Their voices combined into a roar that shook the ground.

 

Elessar knew how this awesome display would frighten the wits out of anyone unused to the power of Aes Sedai. It was impressive - and overwhelming!

 

"ENOUGH!" the Sisters yelled…

 

…Every enemy blade left on the road was frozen in place, or dropped to the ground. Hands lifted to cover ears. A number of men turned and fled. Warders fanned out around their Sisters, cloaks whipping in the wind, swords ready..

 

"LEAVE! NOW! WALK IN THE LIGHT, OR DISAPPEAR WITH THE SHADOWS. 

THE CHOICE. IS. YOURS!"

 

The words boomed, thunder clattered relentlessly overhead, and innumerable bolts of lightening spread through the sky and shot to the ground in an electric arc around the attacking line.

 

"NOW!" The monstrous voice boomed over the thunder.

 

Every single non-Tower horse and man fled back the way they had come - wind, rain, thunder, lightening and a number of Warders chasing them down the path.

 

 ●

 

Elessar stared at all the lifeless bodies on the ground in the aftermath of the battle and shook his head. What fools to attack a Tower party! Then again, perhaps they did not know or were so desperate that they did not care. A waste of many lives in any case. These were not Darkfriends, but outlaws and criminals even so, and with their unwise attack they had needed to be dealt with to protect the Aes Sedai. Exchanging a quick knowing glance with Sinahr Gaidin, he nodded assuredly back and walked across to a wounded Gaidin sitting by the roadside. It was a young Warder Bonded to one of the Green Sisters and he smiled up at Elessar.

 

“It’s just a scratch”, the young man chuckled, underplaying the pain, and waved away Elessar’s offer of help. Even so, he appreciated it when his Bondholder Healed his thigh wound a little later. Elessar felt the pain in his wounded shoulder; the adrenaline had made him ignore it during the battle but now he felt it more. He had had worse wounds before though, much worse, so he declined the offer of Healing when one of the other Sisters approached him.

 

However, when Calia came up to him a little later, glancing at his bloodied shoulder and giving him a no-nonsense look, he accepted her help. She removed his shirt and studied the wound closely before combining the weaves that would Heal the wound. He gasped as he always did when Healing was done on him, an indescribable feeling in truth, and afterwards felt a little tired but appreciative. Calia brought him some dried bread to eat, so that he could get his strength back, and then watched silently as he chewed.

 

 ●

 

“Thank you, Calia Sedai”, Elessar said in his formal way once he had eaten several slices of the bread.

 

He grinned darkly.

 

“That brigand leader was lucky striking me like that. It was a fluke move actually but just shows what can happen in any battle”

 

His dark eyes glinted.

 

“Then again, perhaps I am getting too old for this Warder business”, he said with a lopsided grin, meeting her eyes. “Perhaps my place is back at the White Tower in a comfortable rocking chair reading my many poetry books. Leandreen called me a Warrior Poet, after all.”

 

He chuckled under his breath though anyone who knew him would know it was said in jest. Calia studied his face closely before speaking.

 

 ●

 

The silence deepened.

 

Finally Samos could not stand it anymore. He touched the hood of his dark cloak and sighed. Swallowing hard, he tried to make a sound but was unable to. His throat was simply too dry. He made a second attempt and managed a croak. Shaking his head, he tried a third time. This time he managed a whisper.

 

“The others are to blame for the failure.”

 

He felt the cloaked woman’s eyes on him. He could not see her face inside her hood, only Shadow. He started to shiver without volition and had to steady his hand from shaking.

 

“What did you say?”

 

The woman’s crystal-clear voice was accusatory and struck Samos like a whip. He noted the menace in her tone.

 

He winced.

 

“I am sorry”.  Samos’ voice was still little more than a whisper, the apology sounding pitiful even in his own ears. “Their failure is unforgivable.”

 

 ●

 

His hands now started shaking as pain racked his body. Trembling violently now, he waited for the end.

 

“Their failure?” the cloaked figure enquired harshly. “You mean your failure!?”

 

A short pause, and then the figure added with scorn, “The Head of the Blue Ajah is still alive!”

 

Samos screamed in pain, knowing the truth of those words, feeling endless shame for his plan failing, but he was lost in agony as if several dozen needles were piercing his skin. It was as if his arms were on fire.

 

“Failure is UNFORGIVABLE, Samos!”

 

She pursed her lips, her features furious under her black hood.

 

He deserves this punishment.. and more.

 

“I do not tolerate failure. I never have!”

 

Those words were final - and Samos knew he was a dead man. The Great Lord would never forgive him. His whole body went slack and his mind almost blacked out as he reconciled himself with his fate.

 

 ●

 

The moment lengthened..

 

..a second or an eternity.. he could not tell..

 

..and finally, blessedly, the pain lessened momentarily.

 

“But you have served me well in the past, Samos.” The woman’s voice was still harsh but it gave Samos hope. “I will give you one final chance to redeem yourself.”

 

Tears streamed down his face, tears of gratitude mingled with tears of pain, as Samos listened closely to his final instructions.

 

 ●

 

He fell to his knees almost unaware of the fact, so lost in pain and agony that he was oblivious to the passage of time. Streams of blood ran from his nose and his hands were cramped. Unseen needles still pierced his skin all over his back. His head ached as if a hammer was pounding his scull.

 

He was drowning in pain…

 

He did not see or hear the cloaked woman leave his house, but she was gone when he gradually, ever so gradually, regained awareness and became in possession of his faculties again some time later.

 

The pain did not go away for a long time, however.. and no one heard his screams.

 

      ▀▄ 

[Cass]

The cloud of grey bloomed suddenly above the trees. An utterly silent explosion, the billowing, wispy smoke churned violently at the centre, softening and spreading at the edges as it bled across the backdrop of the otherwise flawlessly azure sky. Below the stains of smoke and cloud, funeral flames raged in a blue-hot blaze. An unnaturally smooth column of upwardly spiralling ash and sheets of white-grey smoke connected cloud and flames in the fading afternoon light.

 

To the Sisters, linked and channeling for maximum impact and efficiency, that blue-hot blaze in front of them was fed by a tornado of raging red Fire and white-hot Spirit, and tightly contained in a chimney of yellow Air.

 

It was over in moments. The eleven broken bodies, whose death-blows had proven cleaner than many of the other pre-existing injuries they had displayed, marked the world in soot and smoke, and disappeared. 

 

Cal released her link with Amaya and Sarelle, dropped the mask of air from her face and silently thanked the Light that Liss' chimney and link with Emine had successfully spared them all the lingering, acrid, sulfuric stench of burnt hair and bone this time. With a final shake of her head, she smoothed the green silk of her riding pants over her hips with her hands, and turned back to where Neve was tending the injured and healing Warders. 

 

Healing may not have been Cal's strongest talent, but she was strong enough that the Captain General had decided, again, that she would be help enough for Neve on this mission without the need to include an actual Yellow. Calia couldn't fault the decision; the Blue had talent enough to spare in that department, to the point it was truly a wonder she'd chosen anything but the healing Ajah - at least to those who'd never seen her argue for a particularly righteous justice or cause.

 

The Saldaean's sharp eyes never left her charge, but as Cal walked past and lay a light hand on her shoulder in gentle and familiar inquiry, Neve inclined her head ever so slightly to the left and behind. Cal gave the shoulder a soft squeeze of understanding and turned to study the selected patient.

 

Elessar. She grinned, amused to find she was not at all surprised. With her little knowledge of the man, she judged Neve's silent reasoning to be as true as ever. No doubt the Blue could have talked the man around to healing eventually, but in some situations, as they both well knew, direct assault could be the quickest and least-exhausting approach, and Cal was more the woman for that type of job.

 

He sat upright towards the edge of the group of other gaidin. His shoulder was bloodied considerably, the shirt stuck fast to the skin, and there was perhaps the faintest tinge of pallor to his usual complexion. He held the shoulder stiffly, rather than awkwardly. A level of weariness was detectable, but forcibly subdued. And there was a specific set to his frame that spoke of stubborn endurance for whatever level of pain and exhaustion was lodging its weight throughout his physical being.

 

Warders. Cal thought ruefully, and marched toward the man without a second's hesitation. No doubt Elessar had suffered worse wounds in his past, but there was absolutely zero sense in letting this one go untended. 

 

He knew it too, she guessed, when he acquiesced immediately and respectfully to her pointed look at his shoulder, and no-nonsense approach. She accepted his trust and good sense with a respectful nod, embracing the Source and preparing to get to work. Warmth flooded through her, and she wove small threads of Fire into the moisture and Water she called from the air around them. When she had a sizeable ball of warm water available, she wove it gently into the blood-stuck-cloth about Elessar's shoulder and set about matter-of-factly removing his shirt from the wounded area to inspect the damage. The cleansing and shirt removal sent fresh blood spilling from the edges of the laceration. Tiny rivers of red flowed freely down the man's arm, distracting her attention away from the solidity and smoothness of the finely-honed muscles underneath. Cal caught her distraction and smiled. Focusing her intent anew, she sent Spirit threads delving into the wound, coursing along the fibre and tissues, sweeping throughout the entirety of the body that made the Warder before her, identifying the areas of damage and injury, fatigue and pain. There was little enough to worry her besides the immediate shoulder wound and relatively minor fatigue, and she found she was unusually glad the required healing would not be so large as to be overly taxing on the man. Before she knew it, she was weaving Spirit, Water and Air in blankets across the wound, Elessar was gasping, and the flesh of his shoulder was knitting back together in tidy layers, one by one until the blood ceased escaping, and the skin above was once again smooth. 

 

Cal smiled and tucked herself into a tidy seated position in front and to the side of the man she'd healed. 

 

"Here," she offered him the bread she'd brought for recovery, and they each took a bite and began to chew in silence. 

 

She was studying the easy movement of his previously injured arm, hand flowing flawlessly to mouth, when he spoke.

 

"Thank you, Calia Sedai," Elessar said in his formal way. With a grin and polite nod, Cal shifted her blue gaze to meet his darkly glinting one.

 

"That brigand leader was lucky striking me like that. It was a fluke move actually but just shows what can happen  in any battle..."

 

His grin was lopsided as he continued, "Then again, perhaps I am getting to old for this Warder business."

 

Cal froze from the heart up, a sudden awful stillness flooded by the echo of her brother's voice in her mind. Joesh had spoken the very same words, highlighting the inevitable reality ahead for himself, and for her, many times, starting so many years ago. He had been wrong - he had not been 'too old' for many, many years to come, but the acknowledgement of growing differences between them had always, always stung.

 

" - Perhaps my place is back at the White Tower in a comfortable rocking chair reading my many poetry books. Leandreen called me a Warrior Poet, after all." Elessar chuckled under his breath.

 

Her heart kept beating. Cal forced herself to swallow. She studied the man before her intently and then pressed a smile between her lips. 

 

"I've heard that jest more times than I care to count, gaidin... and it weighs hard. But experience tells me, in my old age," she paused to give him a pointedly cheeky look, "that battles often depend on those who can both recognise and survive such fluke moves."

 

Under her own breath she muttered, "And Light knows we have plenty of battles yet to win."

 

"Besides,"  She lifted her voice and the held-back grin finally split the bounds of her pressed lips, "I've seen you in action. If you belong in a rocking chair with your poetry books more than on a dark stallion with your sword in hand, then I belong at the fireside with nothing more to life than idle needlepoint and a hot cup of tea!" she chuckled for real then, with a shrug of her shoulders and tilt of her head that invited him to laugh along.

 

●

... Two nights later...

 

Garg shook his head and rolled his shoulders back and forth impatiently. He snorted and stamped in frustration along with the brothers beside him, saliva dripping from his lips, tusks thrust forward as the scent ahead filled his nose, his mind. He was hungry, now! He wanted to rush and feast on the fresh meat, now! The long mace in his left claw and the hewn sword in his right bounced with the movements. He tightened and lessened his grip on each, over and over. And still, the will of the eyeless brother held him fixed in place. Not yet, brothers - hold! Soon it will be time, so soon!  the voice promised. This time, Garg knew it to be true.

 

●

 

"Perhaps I'm growing paranoid in my old age," Calia quipped towards Elessar as they hiked an extra-wide perimeter around the site for the night's intended camp. Her green skirts, split as always for riding and practicality, swished smoothly as they walked. 

 

She waited a moment for his response, then raised an eyebrow and turned to embrace the Source. Before her, the twined perimeter rings the Sisters had woven earlier shone in their thin, bright strands of Spirit, Air and Fire. She channeled additional Spirit, stretching the rings into taught webs that stood at least as tall as a man from the ground up. It was not that the rings were ineffective, of course - anyone who had seen and heard the response to those when crossed by the bandits could attest to that. It was simply that the webs were better and provided a larger contact surface and a bigger warning if they were crossed. 

 

"That's it," she shrugged, dropping her arms to her sides as they turned from the final point in their rounds, reaching the river and stopping to admire the sparkling view. "Thank you for your company and your help!" she grinned at the gaidin as he nodded and took his leave, knowing she would see him at the evening meal, as was becoming custom. She wondered what poem or story he might conjure that night, what tales he might tell or request, what she would or would not be ready to share...

 

●

 

Tiny sparks of yellow, orange and red burst away from the tips of the flames here and there, dancing into the dark sky to the irregular rhythm of hissing sap and cracking wood, and the occasional snore from a sleeping Warder or two.

 

Cal lay awake beside the fire, watching the sparks and listening to the horses shuffle restlessly near the edge of the clearing. It had been a pleasant enough night, but she had been serious when she had discussed her concerns with the Captain General earlier, and with Elessar again at the fire during the evening meal. Despite the river flowing swiftly in a curve beside and behind them, and the clearing that gave them a wide view of the road and the field beyond, something felt off, and she didn't trust the night enough to sleep. Not even knowing hers and her Sister's wards were all securely set in place. 

 

With a sigh, she turned her cooling back to the fire and closed her eyes. Surely, surely soon she could sleep.

 

●

 

Now! 

 

Unseen bonds broke with the sharp eagerness of the voice in his head, and something snapped inside him. Garg lurched forward into a sudden, savage run, his equally desperate brothers behind him, all pretence to quiet forgotten. Blood. Blood and meat was ahead! And theirs to take! They charged!

 

●

BANG!

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

 

The warning wards snapped in dozens of places at once. Light rocketed into the sky along a point on the distant boundary.

 

"TO ARMS!" Calia yelled, whirling to her feet and embracing the source in the same second. Without pause, she cast a bright ball of Spirit and Air to the weave she'd set above the centre of the clearing earlier in the night. Bright white light illuminated a circle around the camp in an instant. Beyond it, darkness closed in.

 

The horses, done with shuffling, snorted, stamped and whinnied urgently instead. One, a prior bandit's horse, she assumed, screamed. 

 

"...Trollocs!" Cal bellowed, as the sound of thudding hoofs and snorting, snarling beast-noise wound towards them through the darkness, simultaneously sparking and cutting through a moment of useless disbelief. What are they doing this far from the Blight?

 

She drew deep on the Power, desperate to weave a mirror net and air shield around the horses before the foul beasts were able to spot and tear them limb from limb. Less than a minute they would have before that happened, she knew. And it would take a whole lot longer to travel to Saldaea without the horses, assuming they were able to continue after tonight.

 

Emine and Liss were by her side, breathless, in mere instants, the glow of Saidar bright and steady, growing as they drew deep, sleep not even a memory on either of their faces. Warders fanned out before them, weapons ready. Cal grabbed Liss' hand. 

 

"Horses!" she hissed, and the woman nodded, linking with Emine to once again build a solid chimney of Air. How they would tie it off to hide sound and the scent of terrified horses, the Light only knew, but Cal was too busy spinning Spirit, Air and Water into a reflective dome to watch what they did. She tied her own weaves off to several ground points around the small herd, and hoped the shiny net would be a strong enough a deterrent from the inside to keep them all in place. 

 

In the instant she severed her tie to that weave, the first of the enormous shadowspawn breached the circle of light surrounding the camp, emerging blade and tusk first from the depths of shadow beyond. Cal grit her teeth and flung disc after disc of sharpened air towards the lowered, charging head. Half a tusk fell to the ground, blood dripped from an outstretched limb. Fireballs from her Sisters lit the sky and illuminated the hoard pushing into the camp from above. The number of beasts tangled in the shifting shadows was hard to count, but there was enough for Cal to know they had a serious challenge on their hands. She drew deeper on the Power.

 

"To me, to Link!" Liss yelled, and Cal was startled to realise that she'd strode so far forward towards the onrush of Shadow. She wasn't alone though, she realised as a blade whistled deftly near her ear. At least one Warder was by her side and ready to fight. She grinned, and let the weaves fly fast as she stepped back towards the waiting Greens...

[Elessar]

  .. Embraced in Reflections of Silver  ..

►▼◄

 

Prologue

 

Soft winds touched the beautiful pale silver water of a small, sacred, ethereal Saldaean pond, situated somewhat to the east of the village of Vericun near the Blight Border.

 

The soft wind created minuscule ripples that slowly spread outwards in beautiful silver waves. Darkness covered the land in all directions and far above stars painted the sky in tiny white lights, while the full moon shone its delicate silver rays into the deepness of the night.

 

All was silent in the dark. It was as if the world was waiting..

 

Suddenly a small ripple on the silvery water surface could be seen at the pond’s centre. Another small ripple. And then a third. The surrounding woodland was dead silent, the sentinel trees waiting in anticipation of whatever would bring life.

 

When what first looked like a shadow but then gained substance ever so slowly emerged from the water’s silver surface, water cascading in streams of light, it was almost as if time stopped.

 

A woman’s beautiful face gleamed in the light from the moon and her long dark hair streamed behind her. Silver drops of water ran in rivulets down the woman’s glistening naked body as she almost glided out of the silver pond, the water upon her skin like liquid crystals in rain.

 

Standing on the ground near the water’s edge, the soil hard beneath her feet, she pushed her wet hair behind her ears and brushed her lips with her fingertips as she stared silently, thoughtfully for a long time at the surrounding trees and what lay beyond. Her eyes were pools of darkness, deep wells of night.

 

The soft wind caressing the silver pond, like a mother’s soothing voice would its sleeping child, gave a final sigh as if letting out its breath.

 

And then the woman smiled.

 

 ●

 

Chapter

 

The Darkhound’s shining silver eyes glinted in the pale reflection from the moon high above, as its razor-sharp teeth crushed the Aes Sedai Sister’s throat.

 

Corrosive saliva dripped onto her exposed skin, burning through like acid. Her struggles ended quickly. Her stunned blue eyes stared into the beyond, her whole body still now that death had taken her. Her yellow travelling dress was stained with blood where arteries had ruptured. Her left arm was at an unnatural angle where she had fallen, bones sticking out. On the ring finger of her left hand was a golden ring fashioned into the shape of a serpent biting its own tail, the ancient symbol of eternity and time itself. A Great Serpent Ring, the infamous symbol of an Aes Sedai. Droplets of blood smeared the golden ring as if purposely imposing on its purity.

 

The Darkhound relished the kill. A kill always made it feel fulfilled. It revelled in the blood for a long time before it let the shell of the woman that had been be. It finally turned to the rest of the pack which waited at the end of the garden. Blood ran from its mouth, its muzzles red, saliva still dripping. Moving silently across the grass and through the flowebeds it swiftly joined the others. It was another shadow among shadows, the silver eyes the only thing breaking the darkness.

 

Mission fulfilled, the Aes Sedai link and liaison to the White Tower removed, the Darkhounds moved as one almost silently along the pathways that led away from the Manor House there in the Saldaean city of Irinjavar. Their silver eyes were gleaming in delight, their breaths shallow, their motion smooth, leaving no footprints on the soft ground. Soon they were out of the city heading south.

 

A soft wind picked up in the aftermath, the whistling sound almost as if in mourning. The garden in front of the Manor House was left in Shadow.

 

 ●

 

Calia and Elessar sat opposite one another with the burning fire between them.

 

Wood cracked as slivers of red and purple flame danced in the dark as they reached toward the heavens.

 

Heat from the fire warmed them both but Elessar was lost in memories and hardly noticed the welcome heat. They had talked a little this night just as they had done several times in the days since they had continued their journey north. Casual conversations that he enjoyed even though they had not shared anything personal. His reason for not sharing was not because he felt she was untrustworthy, far from it. She was a woman of much integrity, that he understood already. His past was.. complicated though. His history in the White Tower.. uncommon to say the least. Sometimes during the evenings shared around the fire he was tempted to tell her more about himself.. but something inside stopped him. Perhaps he felt some things were only to be shared with a Bondholder. Perhaps he was not ready yet. For whatever reason, he was reluctant to speak. And so the words he never spoke lurked beneath the surface of his voice, echoes waiting to be released.

 

 ●

 

The crimson burning flames made him think of Leandreen.

 

He had not thought of her for a while and though he would never admit it to anyone, he felt shame. Shame that she had slipped out of his thoughts. She, who would never forgive him! Who could not forgive him! Since she was dead many years. He closed his eyes momentarily as pain seared in his soul. Clenching his fists he brought his emotions under control. The pain that would never really go away sank its teeth into his heart. He forced it away, opening his eyes and steadying his breathing. His eyes met Calia’s across the fire and he could see from her look that she had seen him tense up. Unclenching his fists he relaxed his whole body, pushing his thoughts - and guilt - away for the moment as he had done on countless occasions in the intervening years.

 

Long moments passed and he sensed that Calia wanted to say something but she stayed silent, perhaps out of respect for him. Women had good instincts, he knew from personal experience, and Aes Sedai better than most. She was sensitive enough though to wait. Until he was ready to talk. Biting his lip, the Gaidin threw a few small twigs into the fire, watching them become consumed by the flames. Without having planned it he suddenly began speaking. His voice was hardly more than a whisper as it carried across the flames.

 

“Leandreen was my first Bondholder.” He had not spoken about her to this woman but had mentioned her name a few times. Staring into the flames, he spoke a little about how she had Bonded him those many years ago. “Her hair was the colour of these flames”, he added at one point, a sad smile on his face. “And her personality was fiery too. She burned with passion to fight the Shadow”, he said with pride in his voice, “a true Battle Ajah Sister.”

 

 ●

 

His voice went silent then as he threw another twig into the fire. His eyes darkened and she could see his face tightening. She did not want to interrupt him and so remained silent. Then his eyes met hers squarely.

 

“She died in a skirmish with Darkfriends.” He said. “And I was unable to save her. To my everlasting shame.” He looked away, pushing his feelings of guilt to the side. He was only partially successful. “My life before yours”, he muttered under his breath but Calia heard.

 

Sensing that his telling had perhaps been a little too personal, uncertain why he had shared his inner pain with this Sister, he shrugged to make light of it and added with a small grin, “I thought you might like to know a little about her since I have mentioned her on occasion, that’s all.”

 

 ●

 

His grin broadened as he continued. “She often bragged about my skills as a poet.” He chuckled under his breath. “The truth is, I was never that good, though I always was competent in recalling poems and old stories.”

 

“I have always enjoyed listening to poems and old songs”, he added after a moment’s reflection. “All the way back to when I was young”. She could see his face light up when he was talking about this subject.

 

When she asked if he would share one of those old stories, he replied that he would love to.

 

Thinking about the many old poems he knew, he picked one. He smiled and said that this was an ancient poem that he had heard it be said was from before the Age of Legends. It was an epic poem of love and loss and regained love called “Star and Moon”.

 

While the flames kept burning between them, partially lighting up the darkness of the night overhead, Calia listened attentively as his voice carried the story on the Winds of Time..

 

 

►▼◄

 

Star and Moon

 

Princess sweet and Prince of Light

Fell in love one autumn Night

Great were days of joy and Smiles

Both together through the Miles

 

Beautiful she was to See

Handsome man was also He

Perfect couple for the Lands

Wedded true and holding Hands

 

Then the darkness fell on All

In the war, the Prince‘s Fall

Tore her heart, the Princess Sad

In her grief, she went all Mad

 

Heart was broken and the Mind

Death a solace, far Behind

But at last she passed Away

To the lands beyond, to Stay

 

Mourning hard the people Cried

Hope and beauty had now Died

Then one evening up they Stared

Wonder great, the night-sky Fared

 

In the sky a star was Born

Brilliant it shone, Forlorn

And the people felt in Heart

She was back, a brand new Start

 

Tears from heaven, from the Queen

Of the sky, of beauty Seen

She would watch the land till End

Came to all that was, my Friend

 

But alone she was in Truth

Missed her loved one, and her Youth

Where was Prince and all Delight

Then she saw him, moon in Night

 

And the moon would glow with Life

Her great Prince with his dear Wife

Both together, far Above

Star and Moon, forever Love

 

 

►▲◄

 

 ●

 

Samos walked aimlessly around the streets of Tar Valon. A cold breeze came in from the south and the sky above was filled with dark clouds; they mirrored his inner thoughts.

 

The truth of it was, he had no idea how to accomplish his mission.

 

Just thinking back on her orders, her punishment made it run cold down his back. He would suffer mightily if he failed a second time. If he was allowed to live. He gritted his teeth as he rounded a shop corner and headed down the adjoining street. He tightened the cloak around his shoulders and cursed his bad luck.

 

Finally he stopped his aimless walk, brought on by panic though he would never admit as much to anyone, and sat down on a wooden bench near the centre of the City of the Aes Sedai. People walked past intent on their own business and he paid them no mind. His thoughts were on the impossible task he had been given.

 

How was he to sneak into the White Tower and steal an object of power!?

 

 ●

 

It was well guarded, after all. And if he against all odds managed to do so but was caught, he would be interrogated.. and if they somehow learned of his.. allegiance.. - and Aes Sedai were very good at finding out things.. - then he would be executed as a Darkfriend. He had no doubt about that.

 

His face darkened as he mulled over the dilemma. He hated the Aes Sedai, they were the sworn enemy who had to be crushed if the Great Lord was to succeed. Even so, the cursed Sisters should not be underestimated. Their cursed One Power could be lethal.

 

Spitting into the small patch of grass beside and behind the bench, his anger grew.

 

What am I to do!?

 

Cursing under his breath, he saw a pock-marked somewhat elderly man wearing a shabby cloak walking past his bench turn towards him with inquisitive eyes and he shot him a furious glare which made the local man hurry down the street without ever looking back.

 

Good riddance!

 

His foul mood did not lighten as the minutes passed by. His circle of followers had suggested several things but they were fools. Their outlandish suggestions had no chance of success. He had told them as much, sending them out of his house in fury.

 

Droplets of rain started falling from the sky over Tar Valon and Samos got to his feet. Grumbling to himself and glaring at another passer-by, he headed back towards the busy main street. He needed to find a solution to his problem, he had to succeed, there was no other option!

 

 ●

 

He did not observe the blond-haired, tall, heavy-shouldered man with a handsome but scarred face who watched him closely from behind a beautiful fountain of an ancient Amyrlin at the city’s centre square.

 

The man’s eyes darkened and his mouth twisted in an evil grin as he watched Samos disappear down the street. He felt the coldness of his dagger inside his cloak.

 

The dagger called for blood.

 

 ●

 

Elessar recalled well the talk with Calia after she had Healed him after the battle with the brigands further south.

 

He had seen her studying him intently after he had spoken in jest about fluke moves and perhaps getting too old for Warder business. She had then pressed a smile between her lips before replying that she had heard that jest more times than she cared to count .. and it weighed hard. But that experience told her, in her old age - her look was almost cheeky - that battles often depend on those who can both recognize and survive fluke moves.

 

He knew what she meant.

 

He had not replied but had noticed that there was something more serious underneath her spoken words, as if she spoke from experience. Like most Aes Sedai her ageless look made it difficult to determine her age but he sensed she had many years on her and probably had many experiences with Warders both current and past.

 

Under her own breath she had then muttered, "And Light knows we have plenty of battles yet to win."

 

He had heard what she said and agreed silently.

 

Besides, she had added, lifting her voice and grinning, she had said that she had seen him in action and if he belonged in a rocking chair with his poetry books more than on a dark stallion with his sword in hand, then she belonged at the fireside with nothing more to life than idle needlepoint and a hot cup of tea! She had chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and he had joined her laughter, knowing the truth of those words.

 

He had found that he was comfortable with her, to a degree he had only experienced with his former Bondholders. He had decided to talk more with her when opportunity arose, most likely by the fire in the evenings. He looked forward to it.

 

   ●

 

After Elessar shared the ancient poem, they spoke a little more by the shared fire before saying goodnight. The Warder headed for his warhorse and spent some time brushing him down before laying down for some sleep. He was to relieve one of the guards in a couple of hours. He found, however, that he struggled to fall asleep. Calia’s concerns voiced earlier that evening as they had hiked an extra-wide perimeter around the site for the intended camp kept echoing in his mind. She had quipped that perhaps she was growing paranoid in her old age but he saw sense in believing her instincts, she had much experience after all, and had grunted in agreement with her. She had set up wards for warning if anyone unwanted approached too close. A very sensible precaution, Elessar had agreed.

 

When she was done, reaching the river, she had dropped her arms to her sides and with a grin had thanked him for his company and help. He had nodded, given her a respectful Warder’s bow as well as a returning grin, and had then left. Even now though the feeling of something.. off.. held him in its grasp and he was unable to shake the feeling. They were too far south still for Shadowspawn to come upon them.. but even so, his Warder instincts told him to be alert.

 

He did not get any sleep and in the end gave up, getting up from his blankets and heading for Stormbreaker tethered close by. His warhorse was a little skittish and it made Elessar a little wary. Where was the danger out there? Stormbreaker was an experienced warhorse of many years and would only start shuffling restlessly when danger was near. Grabbing his sword, he walked toward one of the guards and spoke a few words. The other Gaidin shared Elessar’s concern, there was a feeling of danger in the air, but he had seen nothing untoward.

 

They could hear the horses nervous near the edge of the clearing. The river flowed swiftly in a curve beside and behind them but even so Elessar eyed it critically as if waiting for shadows to suddenly appear from water’s edge. Am I just imagining things? Am I too becoming paranoid? He had gotten used to trusting his Warder instincts over the years, but perhaps he was overreacting in this case..

 

He stood silent for several minutes, his eyes sweeping over the darkness, and was just about to head across the camp to speak to the other guard when..

 

..light rocketed into the sky along a point on the distant boundary!

 

●  

 

The warning Wards snapped in dozens of places at once.

 

He heard Calia yell "TO ARMS!", her voice was distinct, and the whole camp came to life!

 

Bright white light illuminated a circle around the camp in an instant. Beyond it, darkness closed in.

 

Elessar rushed through the camp toward where Calia’s voice could be heard above the growing mayhem.

 

"...Trollocs!" Calia bellowed, as the sound of thudding hoofs and snorting, snarling beast noise wound towards them through the darkness, simultaneously sparking and cutting through a moment of useless disbelief.

 

Shadowspawn!

 

●  

 

Elessar was more than surprised to see them so far south, they were after all still many day’s march south of the Saldaean border, but he had no time to reflect further. Trollocs were storming towards their camp and Elessar and the other Warders prepared to confront them. The Aes Sedai closed ranks, standing shoulder to shoulder, while the Gaidin fanned out before them, weapons ready. Elessar placed himself on the side near the front, keeping half an eye on Calia and half on the oncoming Shadowspawn horde. His blade in hand, he cloaked himself in the Flame and the Void, that focused stillness that made the outside world dimmer if one could use such a word, giving him added concentration for what he was to do.

 

One moment.. two.. three.. and then the first of the huge beasts breached the circle of light surrounding the camp, emerging with their weapons held high, ferocious, bloodthirsty grins on their faces.

 

In a coordinated defence the Aes Sedai threw the One Power at the Shadowspawn while the Warders attacked from the side. Fireballs lit the sky as Elessar’s blade cut into a large beast with the horns and face of a goat, slicing deeply into its upper torso. The beast, bleeding heavily, swung its gigantic axe at the Warder but Elessar ducked and rolled to the side out of reach. Regaining his feet in a smooth motion he came at the beast again and this time drove his sword into the neck of the snarling Trolloc which dropped to the ground dead.

 

Elessar turned his gaze toward Calia and the other Aes Sedai amidst thunder and lightning in the sky, deadly bolts of light crashing down on the Shadowspawn, and more fireballs.

 

The sky rained fire.

 

The Aes Sedai were fighting hard, Calia near their front, her Battle Ajah features set as she confronted the evil creatures. Another Trolloc, this one with an eagle’s head but with hairy arms the size of logs and swinging a deadly mace came at Elessar and so he turned to face it head on. His sword slashed and cut at the beast, using advanced sword forms, and he managed to slide under the Trolloc’s swing. The beast was wounded but growled in anger and pain as it came at the Warder again.

 

●  

 

Elessar used all his strength and experience but the much larger opponent was persistent and the Gaidin was hard pushed to overcome him even if the beast was slower. He managed it in the end, with a clever strike which went inside the Trolloc’s guard, but panted afterwards, feeling wariness creeping over him, missing yet again the added strength from an Aes Sedai Bondholder. He was determined to fight on though and after a few large breaths rushed back toward the Aes Sedai.

 

He saw then that Calia was at the front, near the onrush of the Shadowspawn, and he joined her as a woman’s voice screamed for the Sisters to join her. Another Trolloc came at him, this one wielding a huge broadsword, but Elessar ducked in time and then sidestepped and, his blade whistling deftly in the air, swung his sword at the beast crippling its leg. It crashed to the ground growling in pain and the Warder’s sword swung in a deadly arc as it cut off the beast’s head.

 

Neither was alone; they stood together, Elessar and Calia, as more of the Trollocs came rushing at them all.

 

Calia let weaves fly fast as she stepped back towards the waiting Greens..

 

Elessar remained by her side as they stepped back, saw her momentary savage grin as they exchanged a quick look. The grin mirrored his.

 

The danger was far from over.

 

He saw a Myrddraal wearing black armour with overlapping scales gliding in from the shadows, his black cloak unmoving, his black-bladed lethal sword raised high. Behind him came more onrushing Trollocs, heavily-armed beasts with ferocious grins and snarls.

 

Even so, working together, in tandem, Elessar felt confident they would prevail!

 

●  

 

His name was Sevram Fahlehre and he was the Mayor and Military Commander of the city of Mehar.

 

A man of fifty years or so he had grey in his hair, the bold and prominent nose of his kind, and slightly upturned, almond-shaped eyes. Like most Saldaean men had a long mustache (which he was very proud of) and he was dressed in Saldaean fashion which for his station also meant a decorative overcoat and a ceremonial sash. He was a very confident and stubborn man who had stayed as mayor and military commander for over two decades. In this time he had made some enemies (it was impossible not to) but had showed political acumen and cunning as well as proficient military strategy skills and so he had no rivals for his position.

 

He was a concerned man now, however.

 

Reports of conflict to the south and west in the nation had reached his ears. He had also been told by his spies in the Cordamora Palace in Maradon that the Queen was not acting on those reports (apparently she called them ‘embellished rumours’) even though many believed them. The reports are true. Sevram felt it in his bones. The Shadow had plagued them all for generations, with raids and skirmishes, but this was something different. It appeared to be a coordinated effort to weaken Saldaea - and if Saldaea fell, the Borderlands would be in trouble.

 

We will then all be in dire straits.

 

He had confided in his politcal advisors and explained his grave concern but several of them did not believe him and said it was wisest to follow the Queen’s advice: namely to do nothing down south; keep protecting the city. He had always been a loyal man and he did not wish to go against orders from Maradon but his concern grew as the weeks went by and new reports came in and finally he made the decision to raise the Mehar Garrison.

 

He intended to do the unthinkable: against the Queen’s orders he intended to march the garrison and legions south towards where the reports indicated armies of Shadowspawn were massing. He was going to fight for his homeland, come what may!

 

●  

 

Stroking his long mustache, lost in deep thoughts, he stood on his balcony for a long time as the evening breeze made the Saldaean banners atop his mansion ripple like waves. He gazed out at the city in the darkness of the night, the city he loved more than life and which he had protected for decades, wondering when the Queen would send soldiers to arrest him. For just as he had spies in her household he knew she had some in his. She would know of his plans and would not be best pleased. Not at all. He had made his mind up though and would not be convinced otherwise. Protecting his homeland came before everything else.

 

His plan was to leave for the south the following afternoon accompanied by most of his garrison. He would leave one company behind to defend Mehar, that should be sufficient, but the rest of the legions were coming with him. Three thousand armed soldiers in all.

 

We will try and recruit more men as we march southwards, he had told his captains. If any of them thought their commander was reckless, none said so. Perhaps some had small doubts but he did not think it likely. They had fought the Shadow several times over the years and were loyal to him, their leader and commander. They too believed the reports from the south. They agreed that the Shadowspawn threat needed to be dealt with, regardless of risk and orders from the north. Such loyalty moved him - and made him proud.

 

●  

 

Sevram finally closed the balcony door behind him and walked quietly across the living room floor, past his work desk which had several maps of Saldaea laid out, to his bedroom. Removing his clothes, gazing proudly for a moment at the old painting of a famous battle scene on the wall depicting Saldaean valour and victory against the Shadow, he blew out the candle light on his bedside table and lay down in his bed pulling the sheets on top of him.

 

The room was now dark and silent.

 

Staring pensively up at the ceiling, he thought of his wonderful grandchildren, Anthar of five years and Celiah of three years, both playful, innocent and adoring, who he would have to say goodbye to in the morning. They always brought smiles to his face and warmth to his heart.

 

He thought also of his son, Benthar, of whom he was very proud, a military captain who was second in command of a company in the third Legion. He had begged his father to come along but Sevram had refused. He was needed here in Mehar, he had said. The old commander knew there was a chance he would not be coming back from the south. And if that happened, it comforted him to know his son would protect the family.

 

Finally he whispered a prayer to his dead wife of many years, his beautiful Dahlia, who had been the light of his life, the brightest part of his existence. It was a nightly ritual that he never skipped and it always brought a tear to his eyes.

 

Closing his eyes at last..

 

..those same eyes widened in utter disbelief, however, a few moments later when the deadly knife was pushed into his heart!

 

●  

 

A hand pressed down hard over his mouth so his screams were not heard.. his legs and arms thrashed uncontrollably..  and in the few seconds it took for him to die Sevram could only wonder incredulously in despair how - HOW!! - it was possible that he had neither seen nor heard the assassin enter his bedroom!

 

Soon it was all over. His eyes stared unseeingly from his face, the light of the world lost to him, his mouth slack, his entire body stiff in death. Blood flowed from the lethal wound in his torso where the poisoned knife had struck.

 

The Gray Man nodded to himself. Mission accomplished.

 

Leaving the body where it was, removing the dagger carefully and sheathing it, he disappeared in the same swift and unnoticeable way he had appeared and none of the mayor’s personal guards standing outside could ever say they had seen even a glimpse of an assassin.

 

One of the Soulless, the Gray Man had given his soul to the Great Lord several years before and in return had been given the ability to move almost invisible among men. Even the gaze of alert men would slide right over one such as he. It pleased him because it meant he could carry out his tasks - as an assassin of the Shadow - more efficiently.

 

He left the city of Mehar without having been seen by anyone. A slight ripple in the air, as if turning a touch of breeze in upon itself. A momentary twisting of light in the Shadows if anyone had been able to notice.

 

With their commander assassinated and lengthy investigations set in motion, they would be in turmoil for a good while.

 

The Mehar Garrison would not be going south.

 

 

● 

 

”Make sure the Sword sings in the Night

For the Shadow never Sleeps.”

 

Old Saldaean proverb

The Third Age

 

      ▀▄ 

[Cass]

"...My life before yours," Elessar muttered under his breath.

 

The muttering had been barely audible, but the cadence of the exact words, especially in the given context, was all too familiar. As was the unfathomably deep, bitter pain of recalling them, alone and broken-bonded. Cal looked away even as Elessar did.

 

She remembered those words, in so many contexts. With so many attached memories and feelings.

 

...The first warm glow of Joesh's vow, then Shem's. The way each of her brothers had absolutely meant that promise. The way their combined purpose and bond had shone, brighter than anything ever before, or since. The way she had not once - in fifty-odd years - really believed it would ever come to that actual truth - their lives before hers. Not with all of their training and strengths combined! Not with each of them working together! Despite the realities of time, she had always felt confident that they would prevail together - together or not at all.

 

But she'd been wrong. And for a decade after, alone and broken-bonded, she'd made sure the plagues of Shadowspawn in the Borderlands paid for the deaths of her aging brothers by her side. For their deaths before hers.

 

Years later, Aaran too, had spoken those words. She'd thought that young as he was, they would have had many bright years together before age darkened the risks of the vow into something real.

 

Another mistake. 

 

Eight years had not been enough.

 

In the end, it wasn't age that counted most, but Time. The wheel of Time, to be exact - and wherever in the pattern a thread was destined to be cut.

 

Fifteen years though, since she'd made that particular mistake concerning bonding for extended lengths of borrowed time. Thankfully, she knew, that was one mistake she would never make again...

 

. . .

 

"I thought you might like to know a little about her since I have mentioned her on occasion, that's all."

 

Cal smiled at Elessar with an empathetic nod of the head - acknowledgement, understanding, acceptance of the need to share and the vulnerability it could create, especially the first time something personal was shared. 

 

Inwardly, she put a heavy lid on her own feelings so that they would not escape, and focused on Elessar, the here and now, and the memories he was bringing forth. 

 

"I knew Leandreen," she offered directly, recalling the fiery-haired Green with a smile. "Not well, but well enough. Once, I believe she even suggested I take up your own good services as a poet if I 'felt so inclined to try and rhyme!'" the gentle smile grew to a grin. "Poetry and flowery words were never my forte, to be sure!"

 

. . .

 

She'd not heard 'Star and Moon' before, Cal realised as she listened to Elessar's recital. She told him as much when he was done.

 

"Which star did the Moon take as a bride, I wonder?" she added lightly, tilting her head up to the sky, blue eyes twinkling mischievously when she returned her gaze to his. "I can't imagine that to be a fulfilling marriage - there's absolutely an insurmountable distance and deep measure of darkness between each two!"

 

"...Seriously though, do you like discussing poetry as much as reciting it?" she asked the Gaidin.

 

"I used to enjoy debating the messages and truths that may or may not have been hidden within words such as those. But now I'm wiser," she grinned, "and know that likely there is no right or wrong interpretation - and people will see what their experience and current perspective on the subject encourages them to see."

 

"For example, you say it's an epic on love lost and regained?" she studied the stars above a moment.

 

"The 'lost' I can understand - ," she dropped her gaze to eye Elessar.

 

"I was married to a true love, once, and he was killed in battle against Shadowspawn also," she confided.

 

"It certainly 'tore'. My 'heart was broken, and my mind', I 'went all mad' and truly, I've wrought and courted Death looking for solace in the past... this isn't a confession I make lightly, or to most, as I'm sure you understand."

 

She took a breath before returning to the subject at hand.

 

"But, truthfully, I'm lost on the 'regained'..." she pursed her lips. "Especially when it comes to the Moon and Star representing the lovers... Maybe I'm too practical and cynical, but what the people 'felt in heart' doesn't change what is, was or would be - Life lost is life lost. Stars and moons can never touch - and Light knows nothing truly lasts forever!"

 

"Though," she chewed her lip a moment, "I suppose there is a certain romantic element in the idea that the Moon and Star are both contributing Light against the darkness of night, in their own way... At least they're united in that sense, however far apart they are realistically..."

 

She looked quizzically at the Warder and laughed unabashedly. 

 

"Welcome to the mind of Calia Luin," she quipped, "Where everything, even poetry, comes down to the battle of Light against the Dark!"

 

 

. . . ~ ~ ~ . . .

 

 

Fire and pain. Shadows merging and pummelling into each other. Garg roared. Blood dripped from his broken tusk. He had stopped momentarily, stunned. Now he lifted his rough, heavy blade in defiance. When he lowered his head, the Green woman throwing balls of pain filled his vision. He charged.

 

. . .

 

The surge of Saidar pulled awkwardly at its dark and twisted core, the faintest threat of a likeness that threatened to overcome and destroy. The Fade turned its head, the pale, eyeless gaze drawn to the group of Aes Sedai women as they prepared to link. With perfect clarity, it saw each woman - her curves, the pulsing spots of vulnerability at the sides of her neck, the soft hollows under and around the ribs that would easily give way to his blade, the tiniest gaps around her eyes, in her ears, nose, lips and mouth - all the ways he could make her scream. There were six of them present, and they all looked primely delectable, in every sense.

 

They would look even better once he had killed them all, he knew.

. . .

 

The movements of the Gaidin by her side were surprisingly compatible and complimentary to her own fighting style, Calia noted, sparing a moment to appreciate Elessar's form, again. Especially given that the two of them were fighting against the enemy unlinked. She caught his gaze as they stepped back, and grinned.

 

It was a foolish grin, she knew. If not as large as a real fist, this assault group of trollocs was no small band of human brigands, attempting to simply harass them on the road. It was a legitimate Dark threat. Still, she slipped into familiar stances and patterns with barely a thought. This at least, was a threat she was well practiced and ready to face with absolutely zero qualms.

 

"Half a small fist?" Liss questioned as Cal stepped back into rank.

 

Cal nodded swiftly, and Emine, hawk-eyed as ever hissed, "Shy of that. Likely Elites." 

 

Elites or not, the Warders were holding their own against the front line of the onslaught, not unexpectedly, Cal noted. Thankful for the physical and mental space their proficiency  provided, she aimed blade after blade of air at the ranks behind, savagely snapping each to the width of two trollocs each after it broke past the line of Gaidin.

 

"Fancy a moat?" she called at Liss above the chaos, indicating the river behind and to the side, eyebrow raised. It had been a while since she'd channelled a river to change its flow, and she was keen for a challenge.

 

"Yes. Cal, Sarelle - Moat. Amaya, Neve with me - Blue line beyond. Emine, wherever and however you're needed - now!"

 

Calia drew deep using every secret she knew. She smiled and caught Sarelle's brown eyes in a steadying gaze before they linked. The power surged as Sarelle offered up control, and Cal breathed out slowly before nodding and sending dual weaves towards the river and its bank. Deeper she delved, nets of each element unravelling and spreading outward, until she had located the merge of swiftest point of current and the weakest seam of bank. There was nothing else in her focus but the task. The water was icy cold, it swirled and churned. The bank was varying degrees of softness and stability. Quick as a flood, she infused the net of Spirit and Earth with Air and Water and spun the other weave into a drill.

 

The ground ahead was harder than she'd expected. She drew deep from the source, and then drew back, casting a look at Sarelle's increasingly ecstatic expression.

 

They were on an edge. It was hard, so hard, to draw back from that rapture. But she did. She rooted her logical mind hard against the longing. Yes - she needed more strength with Earth than she or Sarelle possessed. No - she would not risk burning the two of them out to reach for it.

 

"Emine!" it was all she could do to hold on.

 

Without ceasing to explode pocket after pocket of Earth under the enemy lines for even a second, the Saldaean tilted her head in Cal's direction to show that she'd heard the call, and was listening.

 

"Soften and stabilise! Join if you have to!" The Saldaean had the strongest skill with Earth of them all, besides Lissinda, Cal knew. And somewhere beyond the intensity of the source enveloping her, Cal suspected that was why the Captain General had arranged them thus. Raw exposure for the new Green at Calia's side to the throes of linking in the heat of battle - to the urgent and rapturous desperation to draw more than was safe to finish a task. And also easily available and suitable backup to ensure that didn't have to happen. Cal held to the line she'd been expected to take and waited for her Green Sister to do her thing.

 

Emine understood immediately. It was not the first time they'd crafted this strategy together, after all. Cal watched as she turned toward the area designated to be the inner ring of the moat, the glow of Saidar around her intensifying. She watched the enormous and malleable Green threads the Sister was spinning swell with streaks of Blue and pops of White and Yellow before melting into the ground in an immense arc around the Tower party.

 

Cal held tight to the drill weave, loathe to drop it now that it was spinning, but also knowing from past experience that unless the Tower party all wanted to bathe in a boggy pool with the onslaught of trollocs watching, she had to wait for the ground at the centre of the moat-to-be to be fortified.

 

"Done!" Emine called, chancing a cheeky wink even as she turned back to exploding crater after crater in the dark.

 

Cal looked at Sarelle and pushed the drill through the softened arc of Earth. Fast as she was able, she set weave after weave at the deepest points. The weaves summoned water from below into a swift forward current above ground, even as the river's own flow forked and flooded the trench.

 

At that instant, Cal saw that the others were looping the outer ring from the new inner arc and back to the river upstream. Neve, strong enough in Water to work alone, would  keep that return section flowing, she guessed. And suddenly, flow freely it did - a deep, churning, muddy-brown mass of river-water, silt and froth, that wound its way around and around and around the battle ground.

 

The Sisters shared a round of triumphant grins before the link between the other sisters disappeared. The glow of individual channelling resumed - fireballs and explosions erupting in another onslaught against each line of Shadowspawn in their range.

 

Cal sensed Sarelle's impatience to rejoin the battle, but she lifted a finger and held fast to the link as she surveyed the final results of their work, looking for gaps in their defence, and the next most practical move. 

 

In an outer arc of river-bordered land, a hoard of beastmen were howling and raging - whether against the space between them and their brothers and the would-be prey, or in fear of the water swirling around their new island, Calia could not be sure. There were a considerable number of them, though again the darkness and shifting shadows made it difficult to count.

 

On the inner land mass were all Sisters and Warders, a growing piles of trolloc bodies and a slightly smaller hoard of live beasts leaping forward out of the suddenly thinner cover of trees that was left to them. Nothing the Warders and the other Sister's couldn't handle.

 

Cal signalled to Sarelle, and then focused a moment more on digging the trench between the two land-masses wider and deeper. No sense in taking chances that the second hoard could jump the trench.
 

. . .

 

Water washed loudly behind them as they left the trees, but the myddraal paid it no mind for now. It mattered no more than the fact that there were not enough shadows in this space to skip ahead. It stopped in the last patch of darkness and licked its pale lips with a serpent-quick flick of a corrupted tongue. A raspy hiss leeched out of its open maw. 

 

Yes, much better to focus on the targets ahead. The delectable witches that would look better dead. The Blue, the one with a face as proud and determined as an Eagle in combat mid-flight. Her arms, delicately bare and vulnerable, spread to either side of her tall frame. She was first on the list.

 

Or the Green. The one with the flashing blue eyes, a whipping collection of tiny braids and tight curves that were making the silk of her riding pants ripple and flow with every  move. He smiled, and his pasty face seemed to crack. Who needed shadows when you had super-human speed and the prey were being kept busy with other things? He darted forward, black blade raised...

. . .

 

There were still others in his way. Garg shouldered through them, fast as he was able, blood still leaking from his broken tusk. Saliva flew from his snout as he snarled at the brothers he pushed aside.

 

His vision was shrouded in a pounding red mist, but suddenly he was out of the throng and the green woman was directly in his sights. She was turning away from him.

 

There was nothing between them but bare, uneven ground! He lifted his blade back, ready to hack. Now she would die. Now! He fixed her in his sights and leapt forward, throwing all his savage weight and speed into the rush.

 

Ten paces!

 

Eight paces!

 

Six!

 

. . .

 

Shadow within shadow, where the light above meant there should be none!

 

"Fade!" Cal yelled, shutting down the terror which threatened to rise and overwhelm her mind, turning to keep the thing in her sights. As tall and as stretched and out of step with reality as they always were, it was no easy feat. It darted forward, towards her - black cloak impossibly still over the armour of midnight scales. She focused on the dark blade held aloft rather than risk staring at the soulless, pale face hidden in the shadows of the deep black cowl. That was another mistake she'd made before and would never risk again, for sure.

 

Lissinda and Emine joined the circle instantly. Drawing as deep time and calculated hope allowed for, Cal continued the lead, crafting and flinging the practiced weaves as fast as she was able before using all the borrowed strength and speed to - snap! - them tight. 

 

The Fade had little chance, not against this link of four. Not against the wide, razor sharp lassos of Spirit and Air that suddenly snapped closed around it, impossibly fast, in a blinding flash of light.

 

Even as she drew the weaves tight, Cal knew how, in writhing pieces, the eyeless body would drop - head sliding from the neck, with the once-raised hand and blade alongside it, jerking arms and sections of torso and lower limbs beneath that.

 

She knew also that the dark, still cloak would never so much as ripple, even as the body parts tumbled and thrashed lifeless to the ground. 

. . .

 

Garg grunted a snort of triumph - she still hadn't turned back!

 

Five paces!

 

Three paces!

 

One!

 

He jerked his arm down, hard. Unstoppable, the blade drove down, toward her flesh. 

 

A sudden flash of light, which he ignored. 

 

Now! Now she would die!

 

. . .

 

Cal jumped, the sharp command of "Cal! Switch!" and urgent tugs on the link by all three Sisters in the Circle startling her from her otherwise calm focus on the Myddraal's fate. 

 

She released the lead immediately on command. In the same instant, she sensed the movement directly  behind her and realised her mistake. 

 

Bereft of Saidar, she began to wrench free a dagger from her belt and turn.

 

Control gone! Switch slow! Move!

 

The weighted shadow fell fast towards her flesh from close above.

 

She smelt the stench of blood and gore.

 

As she turned and dropped low, she stole one last glimpse at the Myddraal, still obscured in the blinding flash of light that was the remainder of her final weave.

 

This.

 

She knew, as the breath of the blade above her hit her neck, she knew.

 

This was to be her final mistake.

 

She gripped her dagger.

 

This.

 

Moon and stars above her, washed out by her own fleeting lights, friends connected yet still too distant, dark Shadows catching her from behind.

 

This was her final mistake.

 

...And this was how she would finally die.

 

. . .

[Elessar]

  .. A Breath of Life and Embers of Evil ..

►▼◄

 

The Trolloc’s blade flashed before his eyes!

 

It was coming down fast toward Calia’s neck in a lethal strike but to Elessar, fighting off another beast to the side, all seemed to happen in slow motion..

 

Beneath the canopy of Moon and Stars, time almost seemed to stop.

 

Shadows crept slowly towards them.. unyielding in their ferocity..

 

Elessar parried a heavy strike aimed at his side and then his blade swept upwards and struck flesh..

 

            ●  

 

Calia!

 

She half-turned as if suddenly having seen the new attacker..

 

Her hand held a knife..

 

But she was reacting too late..

 

Too late!

 

            ●  

 

Elessar acted on instinct!

 

As his blade swung in a deadly arc toward the eagle-beaked massive Trolloc that had attacked him, severing the beast’s head in a shower of blood and gore and stench, he used his forward momentum to carry him closer to Calia.

 

With speed and agility he crossed the remaining space between them..

 

.. and in a giant leap brought his sword blade up just as that Trolloc’s sword was coming down on Calia’s neck..

 

.. deflecting what would surely have been a killing blow!

 

            ●  

 

The wind of the blade rang in Calia’s ear..

 

            ●  

 

The beast’s eyes widened in disbelief, growling furiously at the Warder as it swung its blade at him, saliva dripping from its ugly maw, blood from its broken tusk. Elessar sensed Calia a few steps behind him now but had to focus on the Trolloc. He deflected several powerful strikes and then, regaining his balance, he went on the offensive.

 

With several well-practiced advanced sword forms he attacked the Trolloc wounding it in several places, blood running from its side, thigh and legs. The beast growled in pain, snuffled and shouted threateningly at him in its guttural language but Elessar remained calm inside, sidestepping slashes and inflicting even more wounds on the fast weakening Shadowspawn.

 

He finally got inside the heavy beast’s guard and slammed the side of his blade into the Trolloc’s head and the beast was felled like a tree. It was not dead but totally incapacitated and the Warder swept his gaze back to Calia. Her eyes were wide and a bit dazed, but then she refocused with purposeful strength and she gave him a small grin, as if to say thank you, before facing the oncoming shadows again.

 

This time I did not fail. This time I saved her.

 

The words whispered in Elessar’s mind, echoing from deep within his soul, and brought a small smile of relief and gratitude to his otherwise dark face before his eyes tightened again and he too faced the oncoming beasts anew, his blade held high!

 

            ●  

 

The Myrddraal brought the three fists of Trollocs through the Waygate.

 

Replacing the leaf on one side of the gate, it shimmered like a reflected mirror, the portal opening to show the hard plains of southern Saldaea. The beasts were not slow to depart the Ways, clearly happy to be out of them and in one piece, having avoided the dreaded Black Wind. They ran snuffling into the Saldaean night, five beasts abreast, saliva dripping from their maws, while the Fade paired the Avendesora leaf with the one on the outside of the gate, effectively closing it. He then followed the fists onto the hard ground and headed southwards. They still had a good distance to complete.

 

The Myrddraal glided to the front of the three fists and stayed in front as they pushed hard onwards, his black armour with overlapping scales dimly shining in the reflection from the moon above, his black cloak not stirring in the increasing breeze coming out of the north.

 

He moved between shadows, sometimes disappearing into them, like a piece of darkness separate but at the same time not.

 

            ●  

 

“Papa! It’s trying to kill me!!”

 

Sandana screamed as she came running frantically through the entrance door, throwing herself into the warm embrace of her father. He was a man of thirty with a darker complexion, short brown hair, dark eyes and a handsome face only marred by a scar running down his left cheek. He looked kindly down on his daughter whose face was almost buried in his stomach.

 

“What is it, Sandana?”, he responded calmly, knowing the active imagination of his six year old daughter. “Is the neighbour’s dog overenthusiastic again?”

 

“The axe, Papa. The axe!!”

 

She was crying now, her voice terrified. Argam’s hands comforted his daughter, holding her safe in his hands. A brown-haired child with large oval eyes, high cheekbones and a somewhat pouty mouth, he loved her more than life itself. She was all he had left since his darling wife Idrina had died of a fever several years before. Even so, he was used to her child dramatics and it was no different this time.

 

“Calm down, my love” he said caringly, holding her tightly. “That dog is a bit on the wild side, that is true, but you have nothing to be afraid of.”

 

“But the axe, Papa! The axe!” She was becoming hysterical and her tiny body started shaking, tears flowing freely down her soft cheeks.

 

He started soothing her again, brushing her off.. but then he heard a thumping sound outside! There was no barking from the dog, this was a completely different sound.

 

It almost sounded as if.. as if someone was chopping wood.

 

            ●  

 

His eyes tightened. What could this be!? They lived alone on their small farm out in the country here in southern Saldaea and their neighbour, an old grouchy man of sixty years who lived a ten minute walk away, was the only other person in the vicinity.

 

Calming his daughter further, he assured her that there was nothing to be afraid of, then asked her to go to the bedroom and to lock the door. Sandana did not want him to leave, clinging to him tightly, but she finally met his eyes and hurried to her bedroom and did as she was told. When he saw that she was safe, Argam picked up a large knife and headed outside.

 

The sight that met him made him dumbfounded!

 

Twenty paces or so away an axe was indeed chopping wood..

 

.. but it was doing so of its own volition! There was nobody there chopping the wood!

 

.. But the axe was swinging hard down on the logs, swung by invisible hands!

 

His jaw dropping to the ground, his dark eyes as wide as they would go, the Saldaean farmer remained glued to the spot, watching what was clearly impossible!

 

HOW!!!!!!?

 

His eyes gazed into the shadows on either side, seeking whoever was behind this.. impossibility.

 

Was an Aes Sedai here!?

 

He had never seen a Sister of the White Tower in person but knew of them and knew that they had abilities from their One Power that went beyond the natural. Like most Borderlanders he respected Aes Sedai as allies in the everlasting war against the Shadow, but even so he did not care to meet one of them.

 

He was a simple farmer and wanted a simple life. They were the only ones he could think of though who could perform such a feat. So he stared hard into the twilight and the trees on either side of their house, trying to find where the woman had to be standing.

 

There was no one though anywhere; he was alone out there. All alone.

 

IMPOSSIBLE!!!

 

His mind could not fathom what was going on, but as he took two careful steps toward the axe

 

.. it suddenly stopped in mid-air..

 

.. and the axe-blade turned toward him..

 

WHAT!!?

 

His breath caught in his throat!

 

It was as if time stood still..

 

 

One second.

 

Two seconds.

 

Three seconds.

 

 

And then - the axe flew straight at him, whispers of death in its wake!

 

            ●  

 

“As you all know, we have been ordered to steal that accursed Ter'angreal!”

 

Samos’s voice was loud and accusatory as he looked hard at the other members of his circle. They sat around the huge table, cloaked figures of darkness, and all had their hoods down. Some of the figures stirred as they felt his harsh look upon them, others remained still. All of them knew, however, that their leader was not happy. Far from it.

 

“And all you have come up with so far”, Samos added with scorn after some moments had passed, “are stupid ideas that have no chance of success. Are you the fools you appear to be, or is there someone among you who has something valuable to offer?”

 

His words were met with utter silence and he scowled, running his sweaty hands through his hair.

 

“Come up with suggestions for a plan soon, a plan that is doable..”, he said keeping his fury at bay, “or else the wrath of the Great Lord is the least you have to look forward to!”

 

He slammed the door behind him, cursing aloud as he swept down the partially lit hall, uncaring of the treasured ornaments on the walls, the beautiful tapestries and the ancient statues along the corridors.

 

His anger at them was really anger at himself for being unable to come up with a solution.

 

Cursing again, he rounded a corner and almost ran into a uniformed servant carrying a tray for the High Lady herself.

 

He had to find a solution - and fast!

 

He was still mulling over the problem, trying to come up with some kind of answer, and was about to open the door to the room he had been accorded in this Manor House, when the dagger plunged deep into his side!

 

            ●  

 

Leandreen.

 

He was thinking about her again.

 

Sitting by the fire by himself he watched the red-orange flames rise into the night. Throwing some more twigs on the fire he saw the coals sparkle as they caught the wood.

 

Perhaps it was the talk he and Calia had had before the battle with the Shadowspawn several days earlier that brought his memories of her more to the fore. Perhaps it was fighting beside another Battle Ajah Sister. For whatever reason, her emerald-green eyes echoed in his mind and he tried to ignore the guilt that most often followed the good memories of their time together.

 

And Calia had known her. Or at least known of her. It should not have come as such a surprise to him considering Calia and Leandreen were from the same Ajah but he was kinda taken aback by the revelation. He had smiled when she had told him but inside he had tried to recall if Leandreen had ever mentioned her. He did not think she had but then again it was a long time ago and Leandreen had never been one to talk much about other Sisters.

 

When Calia had added that once Leandreen had suggested that she, Calia, take up his own good services as a poet if she ‘felt so inclined to try and rhyme’, he had shared her grin. Poetry and flowery words certainly were never Calia’s forte, she had admitted, and Elessar had grinned inside, thinking to himself that Leandreen had been much the same.

 

            ●  

 

Elessar had smiled when he had seen Calia’s interest in the poem he had shared. She had begun analyzing the words and thinking out loud. Though she was not one to write poetry, she clearly found it interesting to read and scrutinize.

 

"Which star did the Moon take as a bride, I wonder?" she had added lightly, tilting her head up to the sky, blue eyes twinkling mischievously when she had returned her gaze to his. "I can't imagine that to be a fulfilling marriage - there's absolutely an insurmountable distance and deep measure of darkness between each two!"

 

Elessar had found that analysis very interesting. To him the poem had been one of love, loss and triumph and though the two were far apart they were still together in the sky as a united ‘couple’ as it were. What constituted a fulfilling marriage was another matter though. He had shared his thoughts with Calia who had listened attentively.

 

            ●  

 

"...Seriously though, do you like discussing poetry as much as reciting it?" she had asked the Gaidin.

 

“Not really”, he had replied honestly with unfeigned laughter. “Not that I don’t like some analysis, but I find more joy in reading, reciting and experiencing poetry in song and verse.”

 

She had added that she used to enjoy debating the messages and truths that may or may not have been hidden within words such as those, but that now she was wiser - she had grinned - and knew that likely there was no right or wrong interpretation and that people would see what their experience and current perspective on the subject encouraged them to see. She had given the example about the poem being an epic on love lost and regained, saying she understood the ‘lost’, adding that she was married to a true love once, and he was killed in battle against Shadowspawn also. As in the poem it ‘tore’ her, her ‘heart was broken and the mind’ and truly she had wrought and courted Death looking for solace in the past..

 

Elessar had appreciated that she had confided in him with this very personal information. As she said, such a confession was nothing she made lightly or to most. He had thanked her for sharing, it also made them connect through pain.

  

"But, truthfully, I'm lost on the 'regained'..." she had pursed her lips. "Especially when it comes to the Moon and Star representing the lovers... Maybe I'm too practical and cynical, but what the people 'felt in heart' doesn't change what is, was or would be - Life lost is life lost. Stars and moons can never touch - and Light knows nothing truly lasts forever!"

 

            ●  

 

Chewing her lip a moment she had added that, though, she supposed there was a certain romantic element in the idea that the Moon and Star in their own way were both contributing Light against the Darkness of night. At least they were united in that sense, however far apart they were realistically.

   

She had looked quizzically at the Warder and had laughed unabashedly. 

 

"Welcome to the mind of Calia Luin," she had quipped, "Where everything, even poetry, comes down to the battle of Light against the Dark!"

 

They had shared a wide grin before Calia had gone silent, studying him as if wondering what he would say to it all.

 

            ●  

 

Many thoughts had gone through Elessar’s mind at that point. His first thought had been that here was another complex woman. All women were complex in his experience, wondrous but inexplicable creatures, and Aes Sedai more so than most. He had never fully understood any of his Bondholders and doubted he ever would. His second thought had been that this Green Sister clearly had a analytical side to her. She had considered the poem even more deeply than he had in truth, bringing forth interesting aspects that made him look at the poem anew.

 

His next thought had been that his initial view that she combined a passion for life with strength and grit for war had been correct. In this she mirrored his previous Green Bondholders. His last thought had been that she had shared much personal information with him and must be comfortable talking with him.

 

It had felt like talking to Myrrhi, Kathleen and Leandreen; different women in many ways but even so the same woman.

 

A thrill had gone through his body, a thrill of connection and kinship, though he had tried to keep the emotion off his face.

 

He had stared into the night for a while before responding. “We share the same vision”, he had begun. A small smile on his face. “We are ever ready to fight the Darkness.” His dark eyes had sparkled. “We stand ready.”

 

●

 

Calia had smiled at the last part. It showed that he still saw himself as part of the Greens.

 

“You have analyzed the poem in greater depth than I have”, he had admitted with a warm grin, “and it has made me consider the words anew. ‘Stars and Moons can never touch’, you say. I guess I am more of a romantic than you at heart”, he had added lopsidedly, “true love knows no bounds and can indeed last forever.”

 

“And the Light is their love for one another, wherever they are.” He had smiled. “That it stands against the Darkness is a biproduct of their love as I have interpreted it. But that is just one view as you say.”

 

He had chuckled, adding that Leandreen too had teased him for being too romantic at heart. Perhaps it was his psyche balancing the harshness of Warder life courting Darkness in their war against the Shadow, he had said in self-analysis, needing a counterpoint of hopeful emotion.

 

His eyes had hardened when he had spoken of the Shadow and Calia had noticed it. A poet with a romantic heart he may be, she had thought to herself, but first and foremost he was a warrior of the Light - and a strong one at that.

 

            ●  

 

A strong western breeze drifted into the opening of the cave.

 

It was situated in a desolate place, the blue-black waves of the Aryth Ocean crashing onto the dark cliffs far below.

 

The Darkness without mirrored the Darkness within.

 

Standing at the mouth of the cave, the dark-haired, coldly beautiful woman gazed silently into the night. Change was in the air.. she could feel it in her bones.. as she touched the silk cloth that made up her black cloak. The woman who called herself Qariahna, at least in this place, grinned darkly as she pulled down her hood, loving the feel of Saidar within her. It made her feel alive.. powerful.. it was a feeling of life and energy and bliss that she never wanted to let go of.

 

Nodding to herself, she finally turned and faced the cave again.

 

It was time.

 

She walked inside, a ball of light following her into the darkness. The cave path slowly straightened, then angled upwards and finally opened up, walls of stone rising upwards on all sides, with huge malachites hanging from the ceiling high above. In the middle of the huge stone chamber, crisscrossed by symbols on the ground and partially lit by three dozen candle lights, stood thirteen Myrddraal and twelve Dreadlords. Bound by flows of Air to the stone wall behind them, two feet off the ground, was the Aes Sedai.

 

She was Iraya Vandelehn of the Blue Ajah, an Aes Sedai of one hundred and ninety years, second in command of that group of Sisters, assisting the Ajah Head. Her matching blue eyes stared icily and defiantly at everyone gathered, her smooth ageless Aes Sedai-features set, her long brown hair with touches of grey at the edges flowing down from her shoulders.

 

She was gagged with Air but had she not been, Qariahna felt sure she would have cursed them all as evil traitors to the Light and demand to be set free. She liked women with spirit, but her defiance would soon turn to terror when she realized what they were going to do to her.

 

●

 

Six of the gathered Dreadlords were male, the remaining six female. The Myrddraal stood silently waiting, their Eyeless faces turned upwards. Qariahna made the shining ball of light disappear, it was not needed now, and walked up to the bound Aes Sedai and smiled wickedly.

 

Staring up into the Altaran woman’s face she whispered, “This is a day of joy for you. Soon you will join your sisters and brothers in service to the Great Lord. You are forsaking the Light. Aren’t you happy?”

 

Defiance gradually turned to terror as recognition dawned on her and she realized what the woman had meant, what was about to happen to her. Her eyes widened in unfeigned horror, her Aes Sedai confidence gone. Her soul cried out and had she been able to, she would have killed herself rather than go through what she now understood was about to happen: she was going to be Turned to the Shadow against her will! Tears flowed unashamedly down her chin, her cheeks burning with frustration, her limbs starting to shake, as she thought with utter despair that they would make her betray the Light forever!

 

She had been told of this secret evil practice from Ages past - the last known case was during the Trolloc Wars as far as she knew - in confidence when she had been raised Aes Sedai more than one hundred and fifty years before. In order to Turn someone unwillingly to the Shadow, it was said, one needed to gather thirteen Myrddraal and thirteen Dreadlords in one place. The victim of Turning must also be able to channel. The combination of Saidin and Saidar channeled through Myrddraal in this way was said to shift the allegiance of any channeler to the Shadow against their will. The process twists the person so that any previous commitment to the Light is redirected towards the Shadow.

 

It was the ultimate evil and horror Iraya could imagine and she screamed silent screams that almost tore her soul!

 

●

 

Qariahna smiled wickedly, enjoying seeing the true horror painted on the Blue Aes Sedai’s face.

 

It was time to begin.

 

She joined the twelve Dreadlords, making and completing by linking a circle of thirteen channelers. She was the one leading, controlling the flow. She felt Saidar surge through her body and she increased the flow almost to bursting, feeling ecstasy in her soul. The power coming from the thirteen channelers was so strong that it made the air vibrate.

 

She removed the gag of Air from the Aes Sedai and she screamed loudly, unendingly, a desperate cry that welled up from the bottom of her soul. Channeling through the thirteen Myrddraal, mixing with the power that the Fades derived from the True Power, the thirteen channelers of the Shadow threw their combined might at the Aes Sedai woman and it hit her like a burning storm!

 

Horrendous screams erupted from her mouth as she tried to fight the massive onslaught. Crying out for the Light, tears flooding her face, she fought the mental rape for what seemed an eternity, using every fibre of her being to defend her soul, her heart, everything that was Iraya, resisting for as long as she was able.

 

Hysterical with pain and fear, trying in vain to reach for the blessed One Power, and wanting oblivion, she fought on.. and on.. OH LIGHT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! .. her will strong and fighting and brave and pure….. but it was not enough.

 

Not enough. NOT ENOUGH!!!!

 

Slowly, by increments, she felt her inner defences weakening, her thoughts became muddled and she knew ..

 

OH DEAR CREATOR, I CAN FEEL IT!!!  I CAN FEEEEEL IT!!! ..

 

.. that her soul was being darkened.

 

Her strength waned and then at a certain point, an eternity later but she could not tell, she felt a.. change inside her, a shifting, a Breaking..

 

.. as if a hand of darkness had reached into her and extinguished everything she had ever been, everything she had ever thought, every love she had ever nurtured, every dream she had ever had. 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! PLEASE, NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

 

Her soul was Breaking - and the horrifying screams in her mind were Endless.

 

Her last thought as herself before she passed out from the horrendous violation of her entire being, the final touch of Light embracing her soul, was that she wanted to Die and End it all.

 

●

 

Afterwards Qariahna felt spent. The Myrddraal standing together in the corner, black cloaks on top of black armour with overlapping scales, seemed unaffected but looking at the others she saw that several of the other men and women were pretty exhausted too. It had taken longer than expected to break this Aes Sedai woman, she had been strong-willed, strong in herself, but they had succeeded. She had been Turned to the Shadow and was no longer the same woman, the same personality, that she had been.

 

She was now a tool for the Great Lord.

 

When Iraya Sedai recovered a little later, she walked up to Qariahna and bowed deferentially. Her face was flat, unemotional as she swore new binding Oaths to the Great Lord holding an Oath Rod that served this specific purpose. Her eyes were deep wells of nothingness.. but this did not surprise Qariahna since she knew that Turned channelers were said to have a darkness or soullessness behind their eyes, at least for some period after the event. Iraya joined her Dreadlord Sisters in the huge cave, and would now willingly (even if perhaps slightly diminished) join the efforts to disrupt matters in the White Tower.

 

Qariahna pursed her lips, then smiled viciously.

 

This Sister was a person who it would benefit the Shadow greatly to have on their side. That was why they had gone to such lengths to Turn her. The Great Lord would be pleased.

 

Sending all the others out of the huge cave, Qariahna walked forwards and looked coldly at the newly turned Aes Sedai.

 

“Are you ready to carry out your duties for the Great Lord?” She asked smoothly, looking deeply into the woman’s eyes. Those blue eyes now had a tinge of purple at the edges.

 

“I am, my Lady.” She replied truthfully, deferentially, her voice steady.

 

Her eyes were dead but she spoke with certainty and fervour.

 

She was ready to serve the Shadow.

 

She was ready to break the Blue Ajah; from within.

 

The Aes Sedai woman who had once been Iraya Vandelehn, Blue Sister in the Light, was no more.

 

All that remained were Shadows.

 

      ▀▄ 

[Cass]

Cal!"

 

This.

 

The flash of light vanished, and shadows - physical and metaphorical - rushed in.

 

Dread and desperate instinct dragged her down, drew her dagger and turned her head away from the call. She dropped and spun low, low, low as she dared, her mind reaching hard for the untouchable flow of Saidar all the while.

 

Darkness. 

 

Dim afterimage; Fade. 

                                                 Ironi -

 

Blade.

 

Heavy.

 

Blood.

 

Dripping.

 

Stink.

 

Trolloc.

 

                                            Mis - 

 

A sudden CRACK and GROWL!

 

The negative afterimage of the Eyeless still burned a black haze over her direct vision, but there was no mistaking the breath of the blade above being deflected just past her ear!

 

Or the sounds of growling, grunting and hot, heavy-weaponed melee - just over her head.

 

She wasn't dead!

 

She half-spun, half-rolled out and away from the trolloc with more surprise than mastery or grace.

 

And then Saidar  SLAMMED back to her command.

 

She stood and drew the light to every fibre of her being. 

 

With the Fade-image cleared from her sight, and the high-definition provided by Saidar, she watched her defender side-step wild slashes from an enraged and bloody trolloc. 

 

It was Elessar. Of course it was. He cut quickly and deeply, dropping the beast to the ground with a graceful swoop inside its guard and blow to the head.

 

The gaidin's gaze swept back to her as the shadowspawn fell. She caught the smile of relief that crossed his face and grinned gratefully at him - she wasn't dead! 

 

In fact, she was very much alive.

 

The shadows rushed on. Above them Air and Fire and Spirit whirled in flow after flow, attack after attack. Above that, the Moon and Stars shone against the night.

Calia, with Elessar close by, turned to fight.

 

● 

 

Cal sat astride the bay mare, back straight, blue eyes scanning the path and skies ahead, her mind running through the battle debriefs and discussions from the past few days. 

 

"Not being aware enough to notice that trolloc was a stupid, foolish mistake to make! A Novice error!" she had vented at Lissinda in the aftermath, considering her near-beheading for the umpteenth time and entreating her Captain to enter the debate.

 

"Perhaps." Lissinda had always known better than to bite on Calia's hooks when she was in this mood.

 

And so, her friend had simply raised one eyebrow ever-so-slightly while holding Calia's gaze, and let the silence grow without distraction. 

 

They both knew she was no Novice. That she had lived, experienced, fought, survived and endured far too much for that to be the case; and that, truly, this was the crux of Calia's problem. That there were other problems - like being human with human vulnerabilities - to blame. And that there were other solutions and possible issues to debate here.

 

Calia had looked away first, pressing her lips into a tight line.

 

"More training in hand-to-hand combat should help," she'd announced.

 

And then she'd committed to and followed-through with practice in the mornings and evenings, every day since.

 

But she still hadn't gotten the trolloc, Elessar's blades and small smiles, or that one look from Lissinda out of her head. 

 

● 

 

The sun was well into the West when Calia settled into the patterns Joesh had taught her for the day, but she didn't let the fading light deter her.

 

She smiled at Elessar as she noted him coming into view. He'd ensured she still had a chance to fight, and for that she was already eternally grateful. 

 

She wondered what he made of her 'new' training rituals, and grinned to herself. She hadn't really had a chance to talk to him since the river battle, other than during simple healing, but she had made clear her genuine thanks. She eyed him closer for a moment, thinking that he likely had a few tips tucked away from his years of service.

 

"“We share the same vision”, he had said, nights ago now, a small smile on his face, eyes sparkling. “We are ever ready to fight the Darkness. We stand ready.”

 

Well, so far he hadn't been wrong! In any case, she was determined to work on being stronger, better, faster, every day from here - however she could.

 

No more near-misses, no more mistakes.

[Elessar]

  ..  Amidst the Flames of Shayol Ghul ..

►▼◄

 

Qariahna walked silently onto the black slopes of Shayol Ghul.

 

Above, dark clouds almost hid the sky, hiding the mountain’s peak. Staring momentarily upwards, the cold beautiful face of this dark-haired woman was struck by a feeling of awe. Thunder rolled and flashes of lightning came in several directions in the barren valley, up as well as down, and the slopes were near-cloaked by soft mists.

 

Releasing the One Power immediately, she shifted her eyes to the opening in the rocks some way off to her right. As always was the case when she let go of Saidar, she felt.. diminished, hollow.. as if part of her was lost. The sweetness of Saidar made life worth living, all senses heightened; she wanted to be surrounded by its wonderful embrace at all times.. but here it was too dangerous. To even think of embracing the One Power so close to the Great Lord would be to embrace Death itself.

 

In an Age long ago this place had been an idyllic island in a cool sea, far from the bitter cold and desolate place it had become. Pushing her dark cloak tightly around her body, focusing on the business at hand, she walked toward the opening. She needed her wits about her when summoned to the Great Lord. And summoned she had been. Tiny shivers ran down her spine, part excitement, part dread. Few things in life frightened her - her heart had become one of stone on the day she betrayed the Light and turned to the Shadow - but the summoning gave her a feeling of dread.

 

●

 

As she came closer to the mountain she saw that two Myrddraal stood guard, one on either side of the rock entrance. They wore black armour with overlapping scales and they did not acknowledge her, nor give any indication of her existence, their eyeless faces directed impassively outwards, as she stepped between them and went inside. There was space for four people to walk abreast through the opening and once inside the path slanted gradually downwards, the tunnel floor marked by the passage of feet over time. As she walked she felt the coldness from above slowly diminish and after a while it was replaced by warmth and heat coming from ahead.

 

A dim light shone from crystals and minerals in the walls but Qariahna paid them no mind as she followed the downward-sloping corridor. As she neared her destination, the heat increased and jagged spikes hung down from the ceiling like pillars of warning, giving the impression that one was walking into a dangerous predator’s forbidden lair. The tunnel opened at last onto a wide ledge which stood above a lake of molten stone with dancing flames. Upward there was only a great hole that reached up the mountain into.. elsewhere ..

 

This was the Pit of Doom.

 

●

 

She felt just as much awe as her first visit long ago when she had pledged her soul to the Shadow and taken the unbreakable Oath.

 

Here she sensed the Bore, the hole that had been drilled through to the Great Lord’s prison all those many years ago. Here she felt the Great Lord’s closeness to the world and beads of sweat now ran down her forehead and chin, and it was not only from the heat.

 

There was a soft hum in the air but she could not pin point where it came from. It was part of the place, she thought. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. Time was meaningless here and she could not tell how long she had stood there when suddenly the air around her.. shifted. It was the only way she could think of it. There was no wind here and nothing different in what she could see with her eyes, or hear but her senses felt.. something.

 

Her eyes widened, goosebumps running down both her arms, her stomach clenched and her mouth became as dry as dust..

 

QARIAHNA

 

●

 

Pain and ecstasy co-mingled in her brain and it was like an explosion of awareness and emotion as the voice crashed through her head like an avalanche.

 

Every single hair on her body now stood on end and she did not know whether to shout endlessly in exultation or scream in horror.

 

ARE YOU LOYAL, QARIAHNA

 

With the almost cataclysmic emotions crashing through her, she was unable to breathe, never mind answer!

 

She tried to take a breath but was unable to. Fear made her icily black eyes widen further and her hands clenched hard as she fought for life. Her lungs cried for sustenance. For air.

 

For survival.

 

An eternity of pain - or a moment in time..

 

..and then death released its grip on her and she could breathe again.

 

Falling to her knees, gasping, tears streaming down her face, her whole body shook as she coughed and slowly pulled air into her lungs. Finally she managed to raise her tear-stricken face, shrugging off the shame she felt at her own weakness.

 

“You.. need never question my loyalty, Great Lord!”, Qariahna replied earnestly when she had regained her breath. “My Oath to you is eternal!”

 

YES IT IS

 

The pain continued through her body but it was now tinged by sweetness.. an impossible combination, but true even so. Her right arm started shaking again and she struggled to make it stop. She waited for the Great Lord to say something more but for a while there was nothing but quiet.

 

A Deathly stillness.

 

●

 

She tried to pull herself together, but she was struggling. She felt so weak… and she hated weakness.

 

Then, finally, the silence in her mind was broken.

 

MY AGENTS SPREAD CHAOS EVERYWHERE AS WE SPEAK. THEY ALSO SCHEME AGAINST ONE ANOTHER TO GAIN MY FAVOUR. IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN SO. THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE, THE WEAK WILL PERISH. WILL YOU SURVIVE, QARIAHNA.

 

The question crashed through her mind and was accompanied by flashes of light and darkness in her head, of fires eternally burning..

 

She screamed.. whether aloud or just in her mind she could not tell. It did not matter. When her scream ended at last, her tearful eyes opened - had they been closed!? - and her voice shook.

 

“I..I wi.. will survive, Great Lord. I wi.. will serve you loyally, do your bidding”.

 

The shame of her weakness burned inside her soul like a wild and ferocious ocean of fire.

 

YOU KNOW MY ANCIENT ENEMY, THE ONE CALLED DRAGON, HAS RETURNED. I HAVE PLANS FOR HIM AND HIS FOLLOWERS

 

“Command me, Great Lord!” She shouted with fervour.

 

As Qariahna listened to the Great Lord of the Dark’s commands in her head, tears of pain and joy and exhilaration continued to run in rivulets down her face. Agonizing ecstasy crashed through her entire body like a never-ending tempest until she finally blacked out.

 

●

 

The White Tower party were still some distance south of the nation of Saldaea but they were getting closer each day. There had been no more attacks by outlaws or Shadowspawn and they had made good progress in the past few days.

 

Thinking back, Elessar was still surprised that the Trollocs and Myrddraal had retreated in the end. They had suffered heavy losses at the hands of the Aes Sedai and Warders but in his experience Shadow forces rarely cared about losses. He presumed it had been a strategic retreat by whoever was driving the Shadowspawn. For whatever reason, they had been relieved because continuing the river battle would have cost more lives.

 

Elessar had not been able to speak much with Calia since the battle since she had spent most of her time riding near the front of the party with her Captain-General except for her ‘new’ training rituals. The Warder had observed mostly from some distance, leaving her to her own devices. He approved of Aes Sedai training with weapons though. As he recalled telling Leandreen (who agreed and did not really need telling), it is prudent to be able to fight also when the One Power cannot or ought not be used. He smiled at Calia when he walked by, the memory of her grateful smile when he had saved her life at the river battle - and her heartfelt thanks at the Healing afterwards - strong in his mind. He had been so relieved that he had deflected the lethal sword strike by that ferocious Trolloc.

 

Above all, it had lightened his soul that this time he had not failed.

 

●

 

Watching her train this day, as he brushed down his warhorse Stormbreaker some distance away, the thought crossed his mind that he could offer her some advice on some of her techniques.. if she ever asked. He had many years skill and experience after all. He remembered Myrrhi, one of his former Bondholders, training with the sword. She had become decently skilled as well; he had been impressed by her hard work, dedication and enthusiasm. Perhaps Calia was of a similar mind and aspiration.

 

When he was finished with Stormbreaker, giving his valiant warhorse an affectionate pat on the back as well as an apple to munch on, the Kandori Gaidin went to speak to some of the other Warders. They had pleasant talks but he found himself absent-minded and his thoughts often centered on Calia. He remembered his words to her,

 

“We share the same vision.” And “We are ever ready to fight the Darkness. We stand ready.”

 

By the look in her eyes he had gotten the impression that the words had resonated with her. She was a Battle Ajah Sister. But it was more than that. It was somewhat.. personal.

 

Perhaps he was reading too much into things, but the kinship he was beginning to feel with her mirrored what he had felt with his former Bondholders.

 

He had not seen Calia with any Warder so far and wondered if perhaps his belief that she had a Warder had been wrong. It was not something he would ask her about though, he did not wish to impose. It did, however, make him think of his former Aes Sedais and that night he dreamt of some of his missions with Kathleen and Myrrhi and the treasured Warder-Sedai Bond.

 

●

 

The axe flew straight at him!

 

Argam’s breath caught in his throat.

 

He did not have time to think.

 

Instinct! That was what saved him!

 

He jumped to the side, his body hitting the ground hard.. just in time!

 

The axe missed him by scarcely an inch as it embedded itself in the woodwork!

 

The sound reverberated in his ears as he picked himself up.

 

Staring with wide eyes at the axe, almost expecting it to come alive again, Argam ran inside and caught his frightened daughter Sandana in his arms.

 

He held her tightly, thanking the Creator for keeping his daughter safe. A tear ran down his cheek and he caressed her hair lovingly.

 

“I love you, Papa” she said softly, still frightened by the ordeal but feeling safe in her loving father’s embrace.

 

“I love you too, sweetheart”, he replied, his voice emotional.

 

“I will keep you safe”. He whispered, stroking her back. “There is nothing to be afraid of.”

 

His daughter buried her face in his chest.

 

He would protect her to death and beyond. She was his life.

 

●

 

Samos’ eyes widened in utter disbelief as he stared down at the dagger protruding from his side.

 

WHAT!!?

 

He stumbled to the floor before he had time to think about this impossibility!

 

Screaming in pain, his vision slowly started to blur and he understood at once that the dagger must have been poisoned.

 

A shadow retreated hurriedly down the corridor. A blond-haired, tall, heavy-shouldered man with a handsome but scarred face pushed one of the servants who had come running forcefully away, slamming the entrance door behind him in his haste to escape.

 

Samos neither heard nor saw anything. His vision was ‘swimming’ now and he felt his breathing becoming heavier and heavier. He was dying, he knew, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Pain enveloped his whole being.

 

HOW could this be happening!!?

 

●

 

Blood flowed red onto the floor from his lethal wound in a steady stream that did not let up.

 

Death was slowly taking him.. and just as he closed his eyes for the last time..

 

..an avalanche of ice and cold rushed into his body, slamming him to the floor, but driving away the darkness and, gradually, also the pain.

 

He was so far gone though that his mind blacked out..

 

 ..and it was only later, when he awoke in bed from unconsciousness, weak, bewildered and confused, that he understood that he was still alive.

 

Somehow.

 

Incredibly enough!

 

Looking slowly up at the placid-looking blond-haired woman with the ageless face wearing a soft yellow dress and a yellow shawl who sat beside his bed, he nodded his grateful thanks. Silently he thanked the Great Lord for saving his life. For surely He had sent this Aes Sedai to help him. To Heal him.

 

She must be highly skilled, he thought, for he had surely been near death. That made him think of the assassin who had almost succeeded in killing him. He cursed inside, swearing to himself that he would find the man whoever and wherever he was - and kill him!

 

The Yellow Sister handed him a bowl of vegetable soup which he accepted thankfully. He found that he was ravenous. While he ate, she studied him closely, her hands in her lap, her butterfly-Angreal tucked back in her dress pocket. He did not look remarkable in any way but then again looks could be deceiving. She knew that all too well.

 

They each had their uses for the Shadow. They each had their orders.

 

Luckily she had been in an adjoining room talking with the High Lady when she had heard his scream in the corridor and had arrived in time. It had been a close call though, the poison almost reaching his heart, and without her Angreal she doubted she would have been successful in Healing him.

 

The Great Lord still had a use for this one.

 

●

 

Shara.

 

That was the name outlanders called their nation. Some also called it Shibouya, she had heard. Other names as well, names on maps, names in books. Names in stories. Imravha, with her very dark skin and short black curly hair and olive-shaped brown eyes, had little time for such lofty concepts. For her and for all others in this greatest nation of the world, their country was Co'dansin, land of the glorious people.

 

Outlanders were forbidden in their country with a very few exceptions. The Sh'boan , their glorious ruler, made sure everyone knew this decree and the legendary Ayyad enforced it throughout the land. Imravha knew little of such things, she was the property of An’mhala  Ri’lar and had been so for all her fifteen years of life. She had heard whispers though from fellow slaves - for slaves they were, even if the word was banned in their nation; they were ‘property’ or She’zaan, honoured servants - that some outlanders had been seen in their city of Qrii’dhan of late though she did not know if she would believe it. She had never seen anyone foreign or strange in their city streets.

 

It was dangerous to question things and ask questions that their masters did not want asked; fear of breaking the laws and customs made girls such as Imravha fall into line, or else they would tempt fate. She knew well the laws that governed masters and their ‘property’, her master had been very adamant that all his ‘property’ understood it well. She and others like her were no more than animals to their masters, if truth be told, and could and would be disciplined, put down and slaughtered, for any discrepancies or none at all. She had no rights and would never have any.

 

She felt guilty even of thinking of this matter as she carried the heavy supplies from the vendor on her back all the way to the home of her master in the baking afternoon sun. The smell of spices and offal permeated the air as it always did in the dusty streets of the city and the buzz of life was all around her as she drudgingly made her sweaty way through the maze of people and wagons. Stop thinking, Imravha! It was her older brother, Igraad. It was his fault. He was the one who had planted these questioning, almost rebellious thoughts in her head. He was the one to blame. Him and his angry useless friends who did nothing but complain. This was the only home she would ever have and it was a waste of time reflecting on her miserable life. Things would never change, that was the only certainty. Things never changed for the poor and the lost.

 

●

 

The nation was bordered to the southwest and south by the Sea of Storms, and to the east by the Morenal Ocean. To the north it was bordered by the Mountains of Dhoom and the Great Blight. To the west was the region called the Aiel Waste by some and even further west the continent that Sharans simply called Mehl’zaan, the Outlands. Several tall mountain ranges separated their glorious land from that of these outlanders and they had also built heavily-fortified towns in the few locations where the cliffs and mountains could be scaled. In each of these towns the residents went veiled at all times, and the walls were so tall that it was impossible to see into the towns from outside. Outlanders were not permitted to travel through these towns' eastern gates into Shara proper. Those who were to try would disappear. Some trade was necessary even with some of these outlanders, though this was something the authorities kept from most commoners. It was necessary to reinforce the belief that their glorious unique nation was separate from, necessarily apart from, the Outlands.

 

And we are glorious, thought Khraa’malia as she from her lofty position atop the building stared out at the desert beyond the walls of this small village in the central part of the nation. We are the chosen ones.

 

She was a tall and slim woman dressed in brown as was custom, of very dark complexion with short curly hair and fierce dark brown eyes. Her face was tattooed in the tradition of the Ayyad, the society of all who could channel the One Power in Shara, but her added personal tattoo was unique since the triangle symbol upon her forehead signified that she was the Amo’hra, the revered leader of the Ayyad and, in practice if not formally, the ruler of the Sharan nation.

 

●

 

Another secret we need to keep, thought the Ayyad-woman as she raised her head to the sapphire-blue skies and the late afternoon sun.

 

Secrets within secrets.

 

The Ayyad carried many secrets and truths that the rest of their glorious nation was not ready for, truths that if revealed could unravel their society, Khraa’malia felt sure.

 

So many secrets, so many hidden truths.

 

One was that their rulers who always died after seven years in power were, in fact, killed by the Ayyad, they did not just ‘empower’ a new monarch out of tradition and pass away. The ‘will of the Pattern’ it was called, a notion nurtured over the years by the Ayyad in established circles, but it was in fact the ‘will of the Ayyad’.

 

Another well kept secret, never to be disclosed, was that all male Ayyad, living in segregated, separate villages from ordinary Sharans, were killed and cremated when they reached the age of twenty one or when the spark for channeling was discovered in them. Also hidden from most was the fact that male Ayyad primarily served as breeding stock for female Ayyad. They were used to breed more female Ayyad channelers, and as such their bloodlines were traced like horse breeding stock. They could feed and dress themselves but were not allowed to read or to write. Males were communally raised, called simply "the male," instead of "he." When they became of the age of sixteen, they were taken from their original village and hooded and cloaked and transported to other villages, where they were matched with female Ayyad who desired children.

 

The Ayyad could never speak of the underlying reason for this practice, of course. That the danger with the taint on Saidin, making all male channelers too dangerous to keep alive, was too great a risk. Some might also wonder if madness was inherent in Saidar as well, just kept a well-guarded secret, and that could be the end of the Ayyad. Silence on this matter was of the utmost importance. And if the males could help breed new female Ayyad channelers before their life was snuffed out, all the better.

 

It is a wise practice - and prudent, thought the Amo’hra as she felt the sweet seductive power of Saidar in her veins. She was the strongest in the One Power among the Ayyad which was part of the reason why she had been chosen their leader. It also helped that she came from the right family, of course. Breeding would always tell.

 

●

 

Hearing some footsteps behind her, Khraa’malia had just time to half-turn before a shield of Saidar was slammed between her and the One Power!

 

Her mouth gaped open in bewilderment and shock as she stared at her female Ayyad lover Fehr’nol who grinned back at her with wicked delight. The Amo’hra stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with fear but also with anger at the betrayal. She tried in vain to reach the One Power inside her but she was shielded as effectively as if she never had been able to channel. She could feel Saidar there waiting inside her.. beckoning.. but it was behind a wall and could not be reached.

 

This was impossible, she knew, Fehr’nol should not be strong enough to do this to her.

 

IMPOSSIBLE!!

 

She tried to scream for help but no sound came forth. She was gagged with Air, she understood. She tried to run but was unable to move. The other woman’s smile widened into a malicious grin and a chuckle very unlike her dear friend of many years was heard.

 

“It is time to die, Amo’hra.” She simply said, her voice cold. “Your service to the Ayyad.. is at an end.”

 

●

 

Khraa’malia never had time to get over her momentous shock.

 

Her dark eyes widened and her whole body went rigid as she felt a thin but lethal weave of Saidar slice through her; her heart constricted, internal bleeding began and respiration stopped. A moment later her incredulous eyes rolled up into her head and she fell dead to the ground.

 

The other woman stared for a long moment at the dead leader of the Ayyad, a wicked and satisfied look on her face, then lifted the corpse by threads of Air and carried it to a table at the other side of the roof building. The table usually had other purposes but was convenient now as the woman placed the dead body on it. Closing her eyes, the woman remembered every detail of the dead woman’s appearance, and combining the flows just so.. her face slowly changed into that of the dead woman. When the process was complete, the weaves of this variation of the Mirror of Mists set, face and body was the exact same. Her voice soon also mimicked the dead woman’s.

 

Using Saidar to swiftly cremate the body, she placed the remains in a special steel container that she had brought with her. Finally she moved off the rooftop and down some stone steps to the lavish apartment below. It was decorated in the Sharan style which meant primarily use of earthly colours but there were many stylish figurines on shelves and expensive carpets on the floor. Standing in front of a tall mirror which hung on one wall, she appraised herself.

 

●

 

Long live the Amo’hra, glorious Leader of the Ayyad, thought the woman wickedly and triumphantly to herself as she studied her delectable Sharan reflection in the mirror.

 

The Great Lord will be pleased.

 

Then she turned and departed in haste, heading for the building that housed several of the Amo’hra’s most trusted Ayyad advisors. On the way she passed the part of the grounds where lay buried the real Fehr’nol. The glorious new - and false - Amo’hra’s grin widened, her white teeth glistening, her eyes glinting darkly.

 

There was work to be done for the Shadow in Shara.

 

      ▀▄ 

[Cass]

Nestled neatly between a wide river bend and the beginnings of a lush, expansive plain, the Tower party's camp stood ready for the evening. The Black Hills were well and truly behind them now. Ahead, the rolling landscape had begun to plateau out, and the taller vegetation alongside the tributaries and roadsides was noticeably thinner - sure signs that the Plain of Lances would soon be underhoof  if they managed to keep up the daily pace. It had been an easy, unanimous decision at midday to stop where they were and set up camp, allowing themselves a half-day of rest and the horses additional grazing while the going was good. 

 

Some distance away from the bed rolls and cookfire, those who weren't still attending to horses or out hunting were deep into various sessions of training. Calia stood with Neve, Emine and their Warders; Mikael and Kerin. A white net of Spirit shone around her, bright and glistening even in the full light of day. Breathing deeply and slowly, Cal closed her eyes ever-so-briefly, and nodded briskly at the sisters before her. The nod was all it took. The shining weave dropped abruptly and melted into her skin, instantly smothering her ability to touch and draw Saidar. 

 

The moment the shield was in place, Cal severed her focus from the wave of despair and suffocation that always came with this exercise. There was no preventing the onset of that wave; the awful feeling of threads suddenly snared mid-stitch. No matter how much she trusted Neve and Emine, no matter how often the three of them practiced, no matter how many times she had experienced this, or how ingrained and automatic balanced breathing and self-regulation was for an Aes Sedai of her age: being shielded and separate from the source was always dangerously devastating. Like being on the surviving end of shattered Warder-Sedai bonds, shielding brought with it a wave of destabilising feelings. Always. Lately, Cal had found the wave of feeling harder to shut down - Still-vivid memories of riverside hopelessness frayed the edge of her focus each time she released or was buffered from saidar. It wasn't impossible to cut the feelings off, but it was more difficult than it should have been. 

 

They were dangerous, these creeping feelings; she knew. The more they lingered, the more she pushed them further under her blanket of control, separated them from the focus of the training. No excuses; in every instance, that first moment of emotional control was crucial - and mis-management was unacceptable. Failing to block out the ripples of the initial shock-wave of emotion meant trying to hold a single thread of sensibility through an enormous tsunami of feelings. That was a near-impossibility that could lead to disaster for the Sedai and everybody counting on her.

 

Calia had decided many years ago that she would not risk the safety of herself, the others, the balance of any battle or the effectiveness of their work for the Light entertaining such emotions. Control and dedication  - that's how one stood ready.

 

She shoved hard against the block in front of her - it shifted but didn't budge. She hadn't expected it to: she was strong, but not strong enough to break a shield maintained by two. It was part of the training drill, however, so she did it anyway - once, twice, three times. And then she sidestepped around the Sisters to face their warders.

Now the objective was to test her agility and ability to avoid danger on her own two feet if she ever found herself without access to saidar again. Today she was the last of the Sisters to work through the drill; and as usual, she was the only one among them to be tackling it solo.

 

Train as you mean to fight and all that. She let the thought slide around. If she had still been bonded, her warder or warders would have been by her side, and she wouldn't be tackling any of this solo at all. If...

 

Fixing her sights on the target tree behind the two warders, she opened her eyelids as wide as they would go without distorting  the rest of her vision. She calculated a potential path and sprang forward, eyes on the closest warder in his fancloak as she shifted to a sprint.

 

Kerin's shoulders twitched tight a split second before the makeshift staff he held jabbed forward, aiming at her chest with the speed of a striking snake. Cal jumped back and to the side with a snick of silk pants and a scrunch of leaves underfoot. The stick was coming for her other side in an instant. Her left boot gouged a fresh mark in the earth as she reacted - shifting her weight rapidly and reversing her initial manoeuvre to lunge in the opposite direction. And then the stave-stick was swinging back around - an arc at head height this time.

 

Bending at the knees and waist, she threw her upper body backwards as quickly as she was able. Even as the stave whistled over her head she frowned and made an internal note that she really needed to work more on her flexibility.

 

Third and final attack from Ker!  she counted, beginning to right herself. Now Mik - Almost there! 

 

Except...the next thing she knew, there was a relatively gentle tap to the front of her shoulder and a good-natured chuckle beside her - and she found herself tipping irretrievably backwards and landing abruptly in the dirt. 

 

And balance, she added to her mental note - she also needed to work more on balance.

 

Mikael grinned at her and extended a hand down to grasp her forearm and help her up. Kerin took the other arm in a similar fashion.

 

"Duck from the knees next time," Mikael suggested, demonstrating a fast squat and lunge forward. "Leaning backwards is... bad," he pointed out, still grinning as Calia dusted off the back of her breeches.

 

"It might just save your head in the first instance," Kerin noted, leaning on his staff then swinging it slowly in an arc that mirrored the one she had ducked with the backward tilt, "but it's a very slow move that is difficult to flow out of -"

 

"-and very easy to overwhelm past tipping point!" Mikael grinned even wider and tapped her lightly on the shoulder with minimal force again to demonstrate just how little pressure had been needed to send her into the dirt. "Definitely better to duck from the knees if you have to get low."

 

Cal nodded at the both of them, and swiftly knocked the dust from her palms with a double clap. 

 

"Ok then - again!" she announced - she needed to be better than this. Determined, she turned and headed back to the start.

 

***

 

"Right, agai-"

 

"Calia!" Neve cut her off with a laugh, "it's nearly sundown, and we've been at this for hours - so no, not again! Today was supposed to be about rest, I'm stealing Kerin back now!" 

 

Cal planted hands on hips, puffing slightly. She'd mastered the quick squats and lunging up out of the way now - they definitely suited her better these days than the backward lean - but there was still plenty to practice! She respected where the Blue was coming from though. She turned her gaze questioningly to Emine and Mikael, head tilting to the side.

 

"Not a chance, Cal!" Emine slid past her with a cheeky smile, walking backwards and spreading her arms wide as she continued, "You know I don't mind sharing, but," she took Mikael's hand and dragged him along, "Em's right, and it's time for a bit of relaxation! And ... perhaps ... for you to get your own toy-boy again!" she laughed and ducked away from the scowl Calia sent her way.

 

The gaidin each grinned, raised their arms in farewell and followed their Sedai.

 

Calia stifled a groan and sat herself down neatly on a nearby rock to catch her breath and watch the others depart. Liss walked past, Malik and Taysun in tow, and patted her shoulder, eyebrow raised in an expression that could only mean, "Think about it, Cal." Cal looked away.

 

Her gaze swept past several of the other Gaidin nearby, practicing swordforms in the fading afternoon light. As always, she found it a warming sight to see. "The dancing is sweeter on the edge of a sword..."  the Arafellin saying echoed through her mind, as always, in Aaran's voice. Cal closed her eyes, remembering; allowing the memories of the past to sweep her focus away from the here and now. 

 

...

 

They had been actually dancing, the first time Aaran Metsar had uttered that saying to her, followed by, "you know I want to dance on the edge with you, forever." His large eyes had locked to hers and searched her soul, the bells in his braids had jingled softly as he shook his head, smiling wistfully at whatever he saw. "You can't deny we make a good team, Cal," he had said, with a laugh - and he'd been right, even if it took her another five years and a stay with the Aiel to come back to the Tower and admit it to him. 

 

But she'd been right too: eight years later they'd danced their last dance, the shadow he'd spared her from being quicker than his sword - and it had hurt every bit as much as she had feared - again - and then some. She had nearly come unravelled completely after that, only she couldn't let him have died for nought, so eventually she'd continued to dance, alone. 

...

 

Toying with the wedding band on the long string of leather around her neck, Calia wondered about the sense and logic of it all. Could there be a bond without weakness, distraction, breaking? She had managed it, once, five years after Aaran, holding a bond with a young Warder for two years and a single mission, until the Sister he truly loved and wanted to serve had gained the shawl. That arrangement had worked well enough, and the mission had certainly been successful. There was no denying the advantages of adding a link or bond, and a skilled Warder's sword to the use of saidar in most situations and battles. Without a doubt, there was something about it that helped one stand ready, and she knew it helped the warders too. But - her heart ached; with the vow of their life before hers, it also helped them die. Still, Liss' recent looks encouraging Cal to think about all this weren't wrong, for all Calia had tried to avoid the direction and subtle order in them. There was no doubt the Shadow was stirring again, and they had no real idea of what they might all be coming up against in Saldaea. Might it be best to fight with a bonded Warder at her side?

 

She stood up from the rock and stretched, eyes flicking towards the group of gaidin. She couldn't help but wonder if Elessar was amongst them. The man was dedicated to his training and purpose, Calia had noted. 

 

"Ever ready to fight the Darkness," he had said - and he'd proven himself thus when she'd been distracted, and he'd saved her life. Both times she'd healed him after battle, she'd felt a wash of fatigue that might not have been there if he'd been held in a bond. He knew the pain of broken bonds, though, she knew. Perhaps his independence was as deliberate as hers...

 

Would he want to be bonded again? Was that something she could offer him? For all the amicable chats they'd had so far on this mission, and the kinship she'd felt developing, she wasn't sure of the answers to either of those questions. She suddenly knew there was, however, only one place to start...

 

***

"Will you spar with me, gaidin?" she asked when she found him. And directly after, blue eyes locked onto his dark gaze: "Tell me your current opinions on the Warder-Sedai bond?"

 

[Elessar]

  .. Enfolded by Shadows of Guilt  ..

►▼◄

 

My life before yours. Leandreen!

 

I will save you.

 

I will.

 

You can trust me.

 

Trust…

 

Why are you bleeding, my Sedai?

 

Why!?

 

●

 

Oh no……

 

NOOOO!!

 

Tears running like a river.

 

Gone.

 

Gone forever.

 

●

 

I am standing by the burning funeral pyre lighting up the darkness.

 

She is so regal laying there, her emerald green eyes closed, her fiery red hair embracing her familiar face.

 

She is calm, oh so calm.. ready for the final journey.

 

So peaceful.

 

Flames of orange stream upwards into the blackness of the night.

 

I stare at her face.. that beautiful face.. all the familiar features.

 

The closed eyes.

 

Somehow the flames do not touch her face.

 

They stay away.

 

In reverence.

 

●

 

As I watch, almost in a trance, time suddenly..

 

..stops.

 

 

Only light shadows move in the background, as if clinging to life.

 

As if reaching out..

 

Then her eyes open and she stares deep into mine.

 

You betrayed me, Elessar!

 

●

 

The shadows reach for me..

 

Her mouth has not opened but I can hear the words in my mind.

 

You failed me, my Gaidin!

 

My soul darkens and I am unable to breathe.

 

Failed.

 

Failed.

 

The shadows touch my heart, burrowing inwards..

 

●

 

I want to speak but cannot. Her emerald eyes are damning!

 

Finally I am able to stutter.. “Forgive me, Leandreen. Please!!”

 

But in her emerald eyes there is no forgiveness. Only blame.

 

Slowly..

 

.. time starts again.. and the flames burn anew.

 

Streams of red light pushing against the darkness.

 

And then..

 

..with my final breath I cry in anguish..

 

.. a soulless cry..

 

..an eternal cry..

 

I am lost.

 

..and then only unending darkness.

 

●

 

Elessar crashed out of his nightmare and sat upright in his bedroll, his dark eyes wide open, his breath ragged.

 

Raising his eyes to the night sky, he gradually calmed himself using breathing techniques he had learned as a young Warder. A question kept running in his head though.

 

Why now!?

 

He had not had his nightmares for ages. They were endless variations on what had been or what could have been, part true, part false, part fantasy but always painful. The dark wound upon his soul would never totally go away, he knew that all too well, but he had managed to keep that darkness inside him locked away for a long time.

 

Why should it re-surface now!?

 

Unclenching his fists, he laid his head down again on the bedroll and closed his eyes. As always when he had his dark spells he felt loss.. and shame in his soul for his failure.

 

The forgiveness he would never get. The forgiveness he could never give himself.

 

When he finally entered a dreamless sleep, much much later, as a soft western wind caressed his back with a mother’s caring touch, he was unaware of the silent tear that ran down his left cheek.

 

●

 

The Shadow army was assembled in a valley north-east of the Saldaean village of Sirah. The Plain of Lances was close by - and the fists of Trollocs were getting restless. They had been promised their fair share of human flesh and though they had feasted on their journey north in Saldaea, moving from their original base further south, they were far from sated.

 

They wanted blood - and they wanted it now.

 

The Myrddraal in charge of this army sat silently atop his dark horse, staring down from an elevation at the Trollocs who waited restlessly further down in the valley. His Eyeless face was impassionate, his black armour with overlapping scales immaculate. His black cloak would stir in no wind; his dark sword would cleave many a soldier.

 

He waited for the enemy to appear. Soon now.

 

Blood awaits.

 

●

 

Ersehna Egadharu, High Lady of House Irahmasu, one of the Noble Houses of Chachin, dried her tears and tried to compose herself.

 

Looking at herself in the bedroom mirror she felt she had aged in the week or so since her daughter’s tragic death. Her long brown hair was unkempt and her face looked drawn and tired. She looked thinner than usual in her night dress. Her brown, oval eyes were sorrowful.

 

I look a mess, she thought studying her own reflection in the mirror.

 

She was still devastated by the sudden death of her beloved daughter and her soul cried out in pain. Her daughter had willingly joined the Kandori army that had gone to defend the western part of their homeland from the insurgencies by the Shadow, but the High Lady had thought she would be safe at the back of the army, somehow shielded from the main fighting. Alas, it had not been so. The High Lady had avoided her husband in the past days, she just could not face his shared pain. She needed to be on her own to try to come to terms with the fact that her eighteen year old daughter Aramura would never again throw her arms around her in great affection and smile lovingly at her.

 

She felt pain and also anger that this could happen. She should have stopped her daughter! But she knew in her heart that when Aramura made up her mind on something she could not be stopped. They had been proud when she had joined the army but also, deep inside, fearful. All Borderlanders were proud to stand against the Shadow but it was most often the sons who went to war. Not always though. Not always.

 

Her mind filled with guilt but also confused thoughts she removed her night dress and undergarments and threw them on the bed behind her.

 

●

 

She stared at her naked body in the mirror, wishing she were fifteen years younger, her breasts firmer, her tummy smoother. Her fingers traced a line between her breasts going downwards to her dark patch, wondering not for the first time if her husband, the High Lord, truly found her desirable anymore. Their love-making did not seem to give him any thrills, they were just going through the motions as it were. She loved him, but she had begun to doubt if she could satisfy him the way he deserved. Perhaps she should consider giving him a consort like some other Nobles apparently did in some Houses, or so she had heard. But no, she disregarded the thought as quickly as it had come.

 

She shifted her gaze upwards again - and her heart almost stopped! as she suddenly saw the image of a man’s face -  a blond-haired, blue-eyed attractive but very unfamiliar man with a leering lustful smile - reflected in the mirror behind her.

 

The High Lady screamed in shock!

 

Her eyes grew wide in disbelief when she turned quickly, covering herself with her hands, and saw no one else in the bedroom with her. She was agape as she faced the mirror again and saw that she had not imagined it.. the male face was still there, grinning lewdly, eyes indecently fixed on her naked body. Her breath came in short gasps, fear and disbelief enveloping her!

 

When the man stepped out of the mirror, his body moving through the glass as if it were simply air, hands outstretched ready to grab her, her mind could not take it anymore and she fainted!

 

●

 

Samos knelt beside the marble statue of a woman whose stance was almost visionary in the center of the city of Cairhien, keeping to the shadow even though darkness filled the night. He was to meet someone here soon or so he had been told. Personally he would rather have begun the hunt for his would-be assassin but he knew better than to disobey orders.. from her. And so he waited as the minutes passed by, the streets of the city mostly empty of people at this late hour.

 

A soft wind from the south-west brushed his face, leaving an echo of the chill in the air, but he hardly noticed, so focused was he on the darkness cloaking the square.

 

The inns situated a little further away were still busy and the sound of people singing and laughing and drinking merrily drifted on the wind like wisps of smoke. They hardly registered in his mind, but then of a sudden a more distinct sound made him turn his face toward the benches a little further to the side. He scrutinized the bench and the nearby area for several long moments but saw nothing. Turning back he was just about to sweep his gaze over the whole square another time when a dark shadow detached itself from the shadows around. Gasping in surprise, Samos did not have time to speak before the shadow handed him a pouch and was gone in the next instant.

 

He could not believe how the person, for it surely must have been a person, could have disappeared so quickly, but he was gone. The square was empty again as if the deliverer had never been there. Shaking his head in puzzlement, Samos tucked the pouch inside his coat pocket and got to his feet. Still seeing no one about he strode across the square to its north-eastern corner and, without further ado, headed down the adjacent street.

 

It was only when he was safely behind the door to his rented room at one of the city’s less fashionable inns that he dared to open the pouch he had been given. Inside was an artifact that he had been told had been procured from the White Tower. It was a crystal triangle-shaped object which he had never seen the like of before. He did not know what it was or what it did. Only that it was important. It had to be important.

 

What mattered though was that he now had it, and could deliver it.. to her.

 

Had he possessed the knowledge, he would have known that it was an object of the One Power.

 

A rare Ter'angreal.

 

●

 

Twilight passed over the Cordamora Palace in Maradon, the capital of Saldaea.

 

The home of the Queen of Saldaea was quiet this early evening as a few servants went to an fro in the Saldaean Queen’s Royal Hall. The faithful royal advisor, Arihna Gharam, a southern woman of middling years with blond hair, blue eyes and a handsome if not beautiful face, whispered in the Queen’s ear whenever one of the military commanders asked for more troops. The Queen felt relaxed in Arihna’s presence and appreciated her sound advice.

 

Now that the previous Aes Sedai advisor was no more - what happened to her again!? (she could not quite remember) - it was even more important to have such sound advice. Were it not for Arihna, she would have been foolish enough to have sent several military legions to the south and the east to fight supposed Shadowspawn armies. The Shadow had tried for generations to diminish the Saldaean forces but had never succeeded as everyone knew. Why play on a danger which was not there? Why divide her forces? It was good to have Arihna around when those meddlesome military commanders came with their foolish demands.

 

It was good to have someone on her side for once.

 

●

 

“Thank you, Arihna” the Queen said with an endearing smile when she concluded the day’s business, watching the other woman depart the Hall and feeling an almost unexplained loss when she was gone.

 

Arihna walked steadily down the corridor, passing a couple of servants who bowed deferentially to her, and finally opened the door to her private chamber. Closing the door behind her she smiled smugly to herself and sat down on a chair before a huge decorated mirror. The mirror sat on an old wooden cabinet with several compartments. Opening the largest compartment, it appeared empty at first glance but when she moved her hands across the empty space, combining the weaves just so, a dark jewellery box came into view. Inside were several golden earrings, a necklace of blue crystal, and a purple hairpin which was a little thicker than usual but otherwise would not have looked anything special to an observer. It was, in fact, a powerful Angreal which she had had in her possession for a very long time. Caressing it lovingly, her eyes glinting, she placed it in her hair and stared at her own reflection in the mirror. She grinned widely.

 

For several reasons in fact. The Sister whose face and looks she had ‘borrowed’ as it were lay buried several miles to the south, her one hundred and ninety year old body broken, her Gray shawl stuffed down her bloody throat.

 

Let her mediate on that! she had thought amusedly to herself, glorying in the kill, when she had left the hidden grave behind.

 

●

 

Drawing on Saidar, weaving the threads of Illusion, or the Mirror of Mists as it was called in this day and age, her face slowly, gradually changed back into that of a very different woman. The long black hair and dark eyes embraced a stunningly beautiful face.

 

A face that spoke of command. A face that radiated ambition.

 

Qariahna liked what she saw in the mirror. She liked it very much indeed.

 

●

 

Her given task was progressing nicely; Saldaea was almost neutralized.

 

Advising the Queen was easy, and the subtle weaves of Compulsion that she added to her whispers of advice made sure the Saldaean Monarch made the right decisions.

 

Saldaea was there for the taking. The Great Lord would be pleased.

 

Qariahna’s dark smile widened in triumph.

 

●

 

Late the following evening he saw Calia approach him as he was going through the forms. He had seen her and some Aes Sedai, as well as a few Warders, train on the other side of the encampment but had paid them little mind. He was not in a mood to talk to her, or to anyone for that matter, but tried, rather unsuccessfully, to shrug off the feeling.

 
"Will you spar with me, Gaidin?" Calia asked when she found him. And directly after, blue eyes locked onto his dark gaze: "Tell me your current opinions on the Warder-Sedai bond?"

 

At another time, on another day her question would have sparked enthusiasm in him. Interest and, perhaps, also hope.

 

On this day, however, Elessar was in a dark mood, Leandreen’s emerald eyes filled with blame echoing in the back of his mind, overshadowing all his other feelings. He was unable to suppress the guilt in him. He was unable to let light into his soul.

 

●

 

The emerald eyes pressed down on him in judgement.

 

“Not today, Aes Sedai” he said quietly, sheathing his sword, his face tightening, his hands clenching. “Some other day perhaps.”

 

A shadow passed over his eyes.

 

“And as for Warder-Sedai bonds..” he added in a stronger voice after a long moment, his eyes dark, hard and unyielding, “..they always end in tears.”

 

With those damning words, swallowing his bitterness, he gave Calia a respectful Warder’s bow and then walked resolutely away, back toward his bedroll, never looking back, his shadows gripping him tightly, mirroring the blackness without.

 

      ▀▄ 

[Cass]

Cal inclined her head smoothly and somewhat slowly. An automatic and practiced nod in outward response to Elessar's respectful Warder's bow, the motion gave away nothing about her inner reactions to his answer or his mood.  Those - like her rapid snap of attention to the quietness of the man's words, and the effect of her pulse subtly picking up pace at the sheathing of his sword - were juxtapositions of the sort she had long ago learned to shield entirely from the awareness of outsiders, regardless of how perceptive they could be.

 

Light, with more than a century's experience behind her smooth Aes Sedai face, regardless of how perceptive she could be - sometimes such masking even helped her hide her inner feelings from herself.

 

That was a talent. The 'critical key to maintaining focus and balance - unequivocally and constantly essential to life in the shawl'.

 

She had been told that, once, as a Novice. And many, many times as an Accepted in the Tower. And again, and again, as a younger woman raised to the shawl. And then again even as a moderately aged woman by normal standards.

 

Without question, that had been the Aes Sedai norm she had most vehemently debated in those 'younger' years (... one could and should mask things from others, when necessary; maintaining outward appearances at times had merit- BUT - life was meant to be lived for the learning granted through experience! And what was 'experience', ultimately? - FEELING!) - she could still remember that passionate defence - believing, wholeheartedly, that what didn't kill you made you stronger; arguing that it was an enormous 'risk and waste of the ageless potential' for Aes Sedai to go about only 'really living' part of their lives.

 

It was somewhat ironic that she now lived by the opposite motto, and gave her students word-for-word that same age-old advice. Eventually though, she had learnt and experienced enough to know better.

 

By now, she knew all to well that feeling some of life's experiences wrought only physical, emotional, spiritual and situational chaos, draining, destabilisation and burden. And she was beyond sure that Aes Sedai entertaining such dangerous feelings at full range resulted in 'risk and wasted potential' magnitudes greater than encouraging a somewhat distant norm ever would. She knew how easily feeling certain events could consume or cripple even the most powerful of Sisters, how quickly and completely they alone could bring her - and so many things in the world around her - to her knees, or worse. And just how far from the purpose of 'standing ready' against the Dark One that could be.

 

No, an Aes Sedai's life was not about feeling her own experience. The benefit to their longer lives lay only in the opportunity for extended awareness of pitfalls to avoid and actions to take to ensure the foundations on which one eventually stood ready against the Dark One were as unshakable as possible.

 

It may have taken her a long time to really understand and accept those truths and settle her focus, but as the decades of her life had continued to roll by, the ability to mask emotions and shield herself from further feeling had become a talent she was grateful for.

 

Not that it required her century-plus of life experience to recognise the deep and brooding darkness driving the Warder's countenance tonight, or the danger one such as he could pose to himself and others in the vicinity. And not that she felt a need to hide her awareness of... any of that from Elessar.

 

With her focus fixed firmly on the retreating form, Calia's blue eyes searched the gloom around the Warder as he walked away, her mind carefully calculating the evidence and effects of his mood in his wake. She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant as Elessar sank into his bedroll, his sharp warrior's form made blurry amid the darkness and the shadows surrounding him in more ways than one.

 

She hoped the night would be kind. Tears and inner demons were so much easier to deny, if only one could manage to secure good sleep. 

 

Shield or no shield against unstable feelings, she felt for him. 

 

The shadow which had passed over his visage, and stayed there, had been decidedly heavy. The words he had uttered had been both more blunt and more cutting than she was used to hearing in his voice. The bitter release of the final twin truths of memory and thought had hit hard, stabbing deeply at both of them - like a double-ended spear. 

 

With a slow, determined sigh, Cal smoothed a ragged release of caught breath from her aching chest.

 

There was was no mistaking the exact type of tears the gaidin had referenced. No missing their particular mark in the deeply etched tracks of torment and sorrow across his weathered face. No avoiding the way they welled without limit in the icy cloud of his mood.

 

... No denying the absolute evidence and inevitability of their existence. 

 

Or the often extreme difficulty of packing them all up and keeping them at bay. 

 

Not when they were something you'd ever seen on a Warder's face before.

 

Not when spying such cracks in another person's façade was just like looking at your own broken reflection in a mirror.

 

Some such truths still managed to sting, however much one otherwise managed to hide the symptoms. 

 

With fierce determination, she put a thorough freeze on all feelings and dismissed all conscious thought. Calling her decades of practiced distance into action, she made a concentrated effort to block out every clear and confronting indicator of previous experience and painful truth she had been almost sure she was ready to to mask past and rationally manage to avoid.

 

It didn't exactly work as planned. 

 

'Because he isn't wrong', ripples of recognition, experiential understanding and caution echoed through her head and heart.

 

"So?" she asked herself out loud. 

 

She suddenly squared up both her shoulders and her chin.  She had blocked out more than just the signs of grief and loss and tears before. Recognising the signs like she just had wasn't weakness - it was a strength that could be played to one's advantage. 

 

'Plus,' logic argued on uninterrupted, 'Forewarned is forearmed.. And there is still no denying the actual benefits of a bond.'

 

But was it worth it?

 

She wasn't sure.

 

As soon as she had allowed her mind to open back up just enough to consider the possible benefits of bonding, she had been driven to discuss the each of the merits and drawbacks  matter-of-factly with Elessar, and no-one else. Of all the Warders here, he was likely to be the one whose experience most closely matched hers.

 

Yet Elessar's response tonight had only emphasised the risks - drawing attention to his natural vulnerability, tearing at her own hidden scars. 

 

And, it had highlighted a side of him she hadn't seen before.

 

 

                                                * * *

 

She was still worried for him, and a little for the rest of the party, Cal realised as she settled into her own  bedroll several hours later. It was as if she could sense the storm of emotion in his very being, even if she was working hard not to feel it. She wasn't sure if that was because of like recognising like, or because she was projecting. True stability in a broken-bonded Warder was an unlikely thing,  she knew.

 

Still, her gut suggested Elessar had the ability to manage his dark storm of feelings relatively well, or at least safely - for all it was rare that a broken-bonded Warder could do so successfully. She reminded herself frankly that this man had, after all, managed to survive to here - and not just surviving the almost-insurmountable, but continuing to work effectively - applying astute enough insight, skill and reliability to actually impress her on a number of occasions, and even going so far as to save her life. He could be expected to pull through once again, she was almost sure of it, and the odds were much more a matter of not if  but when.

 

All the same - or perhaps because of that reasoning - she had resolved to pay careful attention to him over the next few days. She would give Elessar all the space she suspected he might need, within the bounds of reasonable safety, and also make it clear that she deemed any opportunity to share his company, skills and conversations  valuable - leaving the prior invitation to spar wide open.

 

Then, when he was ready, they could at least attempt to pick up where they'd left off.

 

The thoughts she had before falling asleep were that, perhaps, together they would be able to decipher whether the tears really were inevitable; whether the risks and consequences of connection were too great, and whether they could possibly avoid the scars and torments from their past enough to march together on a mutually stronger path. And where, exactly, the line between the stuff of nightmares and the stuff of dreams truly lay.

[Elessar]

  .. The Shadows of Sapphire  ..

►▼◄

 

Prologue

 

The white marble walls flickered in that slightly off-hand fashion they always did in this place, almost as if with a slight tremor like an echo of reality, an echo of what was, what is and what would be. Slivers of light from the sun streamed through the windows and touched the marble with a feather-light touch as if caressing it for the first time.

 

The tall blond-haired woman gazed at the marble columns that filled the large hall with distinct disinterest. Her long hair, a pale golden shade, framed a beautiful face of pre-middling years. She had a fair complexion, piercing sapphire-blue eyes, a perfectly-shaped nose, and high cheekbones. A small scar on her left cheek marred what otherwise would have been stunning beauty. She had left it there as a reminder that some risks were not worth taking.

 

She pursed her lips and considered her dilemma another time. Did she really have a choice? Touching her beautiful, long blue-green dress delicately (it was a snug fit at the top, perfectly suited to enhance her striking figure, while the bottom part made it look as if she floated when she walked across a hall; the leather detail on the corset rising up from the waistband gave her a regal appearance), savouring the feel of silk beneath her fingers, her sharp blue eyes drew together shrewdly. I must stick to my plan. Her gaze moved to the shimmering windows. They flickered in tune with a small, near imperceptible hum which often permeated this place. She ignored them as her thoughts travelled again.

 

She is out there somewhere. Will she interfere with my plans?

 

Her mouth tightened angrily thinking about her.

 

She better not!

 

●

 

Moving gracefully through the otherwise empty hall she arrived at a pair of tall old oak doors. They were heavily decorated with insignias and symbols that were hardly readable but the blond-haired woman knew what they meant. Pushing the partially flickering doors open she entered a smaller chamber. There were historical paintings on the walls, depictions of wars in bygone eras, some smaller marble statues in the corners and an ornate table with six chairs in the middle of the room. On the table was a strange-looking vase filled with flowers. Red and white and yellow they were but they shimmered in and out of existence every few seconds almost as if they did not wish to be present. She was used to this too and hardly lifted an eyebrow as she sat herself in one of the ornate high-backed chairs. A goblet of wine and four wine glasses stood on a smaller table near one wall and she poured herself a drink and sat sipping it in silence as the minutes passed by.

 

Shadows appeared and disappeared around her, like whispers in a dream, momentarily touching this world before returning from wherever they had come. One of the shadows, more substantial than the others, lingered for a while and the sound of a whimper broke the silence of this distant place as the shadow gradually took on the form of a sleeping man. Flickering in and out of existence it hovered before the blue-green dressed woman as she studied the form with a twisted grin on her face. Putting the wine glass easily to the side, a gleeful look in her blue eyes, she made motions in the air, combining flows of Saidar just so, and reached into the shadow and pulled the sleeping man fully into Tel'aran'rhiod.

 

He screamed horrifyingly, still in his terrible nightmare, as his eyes opened and widened as he saw the beautiful but merciless and wicked-looking woman’s face before him.

 

She chuckled wickedly as she saw the terror in his eyes, relishing what she was about to do. Throwing him forcefully to the marble floor she stared at him like she would stare at an irritable bug. Something or someone to be crushed. He had interfered with her plans for the last time.

 

“Rhanag, I warned you to stay away from the Cehra.” Her voice was calm but cold as death. “I told you what would happen if you tried to touch it. I warned you.”

 

“Didn’t I warn you!?”

 

Her voice was without mercy, her blue eyes shooting daggers.

 

He began to stutter a reply, tears of fear running down his old and worn face, but she cut him off like the slice of a knife.

 

“The Great Lord will have your soul!”

 

●

 

It was her final words as she threw him against the wall using the One Power, breaking his back. He slid down to the marble floor, his screams of pain reverberating around the chamber. She laughed, enjoying his pain. She severed his right arm with a flow of Saidar and his screams increased. Blood flowed on the floor and she smiled wickedly at the sight.

 

No mercy indeed, just as she had warned him.

 

Getting up from her chair, she stared without pity at the dying man. Unable to stop herself, she knelt before him and stretched out her hand, Saidar flowing through her veins in a wonderful fashion, and reached into him and pulled out his heart. Holding it up before his eyes in the few seconds it took him to die, her blue eyes sparkled with evil delight. That is the price of disobedience. His eyes closed for the last time as all life left him. His dead body would be found in a pool of blood in his bed in the real world, his heart missing, his body crushed, with no one the wiser.

 

Placing the blood-dripping heart in a jar, cleaning the blood from her hands with water from the vase, she stared for a long time at the body. At times she did think she should give up such messiness, at times she had also been advised to, but she had always enjoyed giving extreme physical pain, it gave her special joy, a thrill that engulfed her soul. Killing someone with the One Power was less satisfying. She had always thought so.

 

●

 

That made her think of Samos. He had brought her the Cehra and that was the only reason she had not killed him. He had been a huge disappointment to her since she had recruited him to the Shadow. His mistakes had been costly, his efforts poor. However, he would get this final chance at redemption since he had brought her the rare Ter’angreal. Reaching into a dress pocket she brought forth the object. A crystal triangle-shaped artifact, cold to the touch, it was very old indeed - and rare. Very rare. Few channelers outside of the Amyrlin Seat and perhaps a handful Sisters of the White Tower knew its full power, but she did. Her smile widened in triumph.

 

This object would open doors; that she knew. ‘Doors’ that many would want to stay unopened.

 

Oh yes!

 

Returning the valuable object to her dress pocket she sat down at the table again and finished her red wine. She ignored the shadows that appeared intermittently, her mind on her next task. None knew the World of Dreams, the Unseen World - a reflection within a reflection, a mirror in time - as well as she did, of that she was pretty certain. And she would use that advantage - and the infinite possibilities - in her pursuit of glory.

 

For the Great Lord, of course. But just as much For herself.

 

Running her limb fingers through her long blond hair, enjoying the soft feel and vitality, and touching reverently the pale emerald earrings, very special to her, that matched her dress delectably, she considered her options.

 

●

 

The slivers of light that came through the flickering windows gave off no warmth. Not that she really cared. The marble columns kept glittering where the light touched, dancing in the light as the air thickened and lessened in an endless circle of motion.

 

Her eyes brightened and shone like Shadows of Sapphire as she drew upon and bathed in the ecstasy of Saidar; a sun burning within her, a sun she never wanted to quench. Her powerful ring-Angreal, the ancient one that had the form of a small green rose and which she had had for a very long time, embraced her left ring finger and she looked at it lovingly. A crystal necklace adorned her swan-like neck. It too was a rare object of power. It too was something she treasured mightily.

 

She was a Power to be reckoned with; that she knew with absolute certainty.

 

Something those women who called themselves Aes Sedai would soon learn.

 

Touching her face, her delicate fair skin, the cheekbones that heightened her beauty, her smile widened.

 

She had been known by many names in many places, but the one she had taken for herself pleased her the most:

 

Nymeria

 

●

 

Chapter

 

As Elessar dropped into his bedroll, needing to rest his mind and body both, he felt shadows without and within.

 

He knew that gloom surrounded him now as he was in his black mood and that Calia had probably observed the shadow which had passed over his visage, and stayed there.

 

I should not have replied so bitterly. He closed his eyes to the night but the darkness pressed down on him. I should have responded politely, respectfully. But he knew that his emotions were too strong when this massive guilt came upon him like an avalanche, and that he was not able to keep his dark feelings at bay.

 

He hated himself for it, he hated the dark spells which had come upon him intermittently ever since Leandreen’s death and his near-madness.. but they were a part of him, a dark stain on his soul. Biting his lip he hoped he would feel better in the morning, knowing fully well he would not and that it would take some days before he would get over this black period. It was always so. Always.

 

He lay for a long time with dark whispers echoing in the back of his head, threads of guilt brushing against his consciousness, but when he finally fell asleep it was - thankfully - a restful and dreamless sleep.

 

●

 

He kept much to himself in the days that followed, carrying out his duties proficiently, but anyone who knew him saw the pain in his eyes, the heaviness in his shoulders, the added weight in his step. A couple Warders tried to engage him in conversation when the party from Tar Valon rested along the wayside but he politely told them that he was tired and moved off to care for his warhorse, Stormbreaker. A few Sisters also looked with concern at him at times but did not approach him. Calia was one of these but he pretended not to see her. He had not spoken to her since that evening and knew it was best to wait at least until he was done with this dark spell.

 

As the days passed he began to feel more himself again, the black frame of mind gradually diminishing, and his thoughts turned to more positive matters. The other members of the party saw his improved mood and nodded contentedly, pleased. As his mood lightened Elessar began to think back on what Calia had asked and knew that her question of Warder-Sedai bonds was one which deserved a better answer. Because even though many bonds did indeed ‘end in tears’ as he had uttered, the journey bonded with an Aes Sedai made all the difference and made a Warder able to carry out his duty in the best possible manner. He missed the bond, missed that special connection with a Sister which had served him well for so many years, a connection which was very valuable despite the risk of a sad ending. He was unable to see it like that when he was depressed, the guilt crushing him, but now as light gathered in his soul again he knew what he felt deep inside, and knew what he wished for.

 

It was five days or so later, on an early afternoon under a cloud-free blue sky filled with sunshine, as the party crossed the border into north-eastern Saldaea, that he felt the last echoes of shadows leave him. He sighed in relief. Like every time before he hoped this would be the last time. Like every time before he knew it would not be. But at least there was every chance he would be fine for a long while. One of the other Warders a little ahead turned in his saddle and saw him smiling - and waved. Elessar grinned back, knowing that smiles were rare on him even at the best of times. He had always been the serious stoic type, focused on the job and on excelling at his tasks. Whenever he was reading a good poem or an old story, however, others could see the hints of a smile on his face. And a glint in his dark eyes. He would never tire of old stories.

 

●

 

They reached the small Saldaean village of Renajhar late one afternoon. The village consisted mostly of a main road, a couple dozen houses, a blacksmith, a few local shops and an inn. The road leading into the village was dusty and hard and the few villagers that were about seemed much the same. A cold breeze was reaching out from the direction of the Blight, making their travelling cloaks ripple in the wind, and the party quickly dismounted and led their horses to the stables behind the inn. One of the Warders had ridden ahead and acquired enough rooms; single rooms for the Sisters while two and two Warders shared a room.  And they soon found their rooms - guided by a fat Saldaean innkeeper who wore a fake smile and feigned humility - most on the second floor, and placed their saddle bags and belongings in wardrobes and on shelves. They were to meet down in the Common Room for supper a little later and Elessar, who shared a room with one of his Brother Warders, removed his travelling cloak and boots and then lay down reading in his poetry-book (which he always brought on long journeys) until it was time to go downstairs.

 

Moving down the stairs he shared a few words with the other Warder but it was mostly chit-chat since they did not know each other well. His mind was on Calia and he wondered if he would have the opportunity to talk to her again. If she wanted to talk, that is, after how he had brushed her off the last time. The thought brought a frown on his face but he brightened when he saw the whole party seated in the Common Room ready for a well-earned meal. Seating himself near one end, he exchanged a quick glance with Calia who sat at the other end but he could not read anything in her eyes. Aes Sedai-smooth her face was, but at least not hostile. He took that as a good sign.

 

When the meal arrived a little later, spiced meat with potatoes and gravy and a few vegetables, he tucked in with the others. He enjoyed an ale with the food but made sure it was just the one; they were on a mission and needed to be alert at all times. The serving girl, a voluptuous local brunette with large dark oval eyes and a pretty smile, sent him teasing smiles whenever she served him and he found himself grinning inside which was a good indicator that his good mood was returning.

 

●

 

After the meal, they sat talking at the back while a gleeman played on a flute on a small stage at the other end of the room. Elessar glimpsed Calia at a small table fifteen feet or so away talking to another Sister. He did not want to interrupt but he felt more and more that he needed to apologize for his behaviour that night. And so when the other Aes Sedai moved to another table, Elessar grabbed the opportunity. Coming up to Calia he gave a Warder’s bow and met her eyes squarely.

 

“May I sit down?” He asked humbly and she nodded with the hint of a smile. Elessar sat down across from her and waited a moment before speaking. The crowd were merry at the other side of the Common Room, enjoying the jaunty melody the gleeman was playing, but the Gaidin’s attention was all on this Aes Sedai. He measured his words.

 

“I want to apologize for brushing you off the other night”. He tried to hide the shame he felt at how he had acted but was uncertain how successful he was. “It was disrespectful.” He looked down at the table for a moment before continuing. “I was.. in a dark mood. It was a bad day”. His face looked apologetic. “I am sorry.”

 

●

 

The Sh'boan’s dark eyes widened in disbelief as the dagger plunged into her chest.

 

She screamed in terror and pain, her arms flailing about her, as the shadow which had suddenly appeared pressed the dagger ever deeper. Her bedsheet was colouring red and her whole world was one of confusion and agony.

 

In the few moments before death took her, she wondered about this strange matter.

 

It was all impossible. IMPOSSIBLE!!

 

The pain increased and she screamed and screamed but no one heard her. Her nightshift became bloodied as she kicked out with her legs in desperation, but it was too late.

 

A final spasm, the last tremor, and then the light of the world left her dark eyes.

 

She fell into the embrace of Death.

 

●

 

The middle aged man looked down on the corpse of the former Sharan ruler but felt nothing. He was a paid assassin and he had completed his task. Who he killed and why mattered not. All that mattered was that he was successful; that he carried out his honour-bound duty.

 

Removing the bloodied dagger from the woman’s body, he placed it in a light bag that he carried and then swiftly departed. Walking on soft feet through the Sharan ruler’s bedroom toward the door he listened for any sounds outside. All was quiet and he nodded to himself. With a last look over his shoulder he opened the door, went out and closed it quietly behind him.

 

On his way out of the palace he kept to the shadows as he crept along the wall surrounding the building. Some guards on patrol passed him by but did not see him in the darkness as they continued their night rounds. When he reached the gate, he snuck past the two guards there who were half-asleep on duty and continued into the city proper. Soon he was lost among the buildings in the night, the echo of his passage disappearing with the western wind.

 

●

 

Far away, further south and east in Shara, staring up at the same night sky, the false Amo’hra, leader of the Ayyad, grinned broadly.

 

The task would now have been done, she was certain of it. The dead Sh'boan would be discovered the following morning and the whole nation would be in an uproar. This suited her very well. The more disruption the better; the more chaos the better.

 

It was what the Great Lord wanted.

 

Oh, she could have killed the woman herself. And she had considered it. But it was better to use an assassin. That way nothing would lead back to her. The assassin’s guild was famous for its discretion. Its members felt no loyalty to the nation and would not reveal their employer even if faced with death. It was a matter of honour to them. A matter of pride.

 

The secret was safe.

 

The Amo’hra’s dark eyes glittered in the night.

 

●

 

It was late evening and Darkness had fallen over the Cordamora Palace in Maradon.

 

Most people were asleep at this late hour - but not everyone.

 

Arihna Gharam, the royal advisor to the Queen, shrugged. Her dress was made of fine materials, a pale emerald colour with silver threads on the shoulders and sides, and she wore an emerald neckless to match. She was nowhere near as finely dressed as the Queen of Saldaea, though. It would not be proper.

 

“He disobeyed your order.” Her eyes tightened, her hand touching the necklace affectionately. “It is treason, no question about it.”

 

The Queen looked at her advisor and shook her head softly. “I agree, he deserves punishment, but he does not deserve death.”

 

An old military commander in the Northern Legion, a much-respected grey-haired soldier of many years called Argial Gadhere, had on his own initiative marched several platoons eastward to face some “enemy”, or so he had claimed.

 

Against her orders!!

 

She had been shocked by this disobedience, this betrayal. The commander had been apprehended (her soldier-spies in camp had arrested him, not without difficulty as it turned out since some of his officers had been loyal to him) and the platoons sent back - and Arihna had pushed for the harshest penalty ever since.

 

Seeing Arihna begin to complain, recognizing that facial expression, the Queen added swiftly, “He will be dealt with harshly, do not fear.”

 

●

 

Her voice betrayed some misgivings. Part of her felt Arihna was right; this traitor deserved death. Who was he to move part of her forces when there was no need!? The feeling grew as she sat in silence, feeling her advisor restless at her shoulder. Perhaps she was wrong, after all? Perhaps she had been wrong the whole time - and Arihna right?

 

The throne room was empty but for the two of them. Candle lights lit up the chamber, dozens of them illuminating the decorated walls, ancient paintings and marble sculptures that adorned this exquisite hall. Staring at the shining lights dancing on the walls - were they really dancing?? - touching her forehead in slight confusion, then fingering the sleeves of her regal robe made of the finest silk and coloured gold and black, the Queen of Saldaea suddenly felt very alone.

 

Half-turning to her faithful advisor at last, several long moments later, feeling more relaxed now, more sure of herself, she nodded. “You were right all along, Arihna. He will face the penalty for treason. And that is death.”

 

At her shoulder, Qariahna, in the guise of the royal advisor, smiled wickedly when the Queen did not see, releasing the weaves of Compulsion.

 

A little nudge was all that was needed. And this execution would set an example.

 

No more Saldaean troops would be sent eastwards towards the Plain of Lances.

 

●

 

Samos shivered when he thought back on the night when she had come.

 

Just as on the previous occasions she had suddenly appeared, her whole figure shimmering in multiple colours at the same time so it was impossible for him to make out any details and nothing of her features. He had had no doubt it was her, however. That voice, female but twisted in a way, with the hint of echoes lingering, was definitely hers.

 

He had given her the object as he had been ordered but instead of appreciation she had told him that she was hugely disappointed in him and that he would suffer if he failed her again. Pain had erupted in his arms and back and he had fallen onto the floor screaming. She had chuckled when his nose started bleeding and had not stopped before he was almost unconscious. When she left she told him that the only reason he was left to live was because he had delivered the object she wanted. He better remember that!

 

There was anger in him for being treated in this despicable way, a lot of pent-up anger and frustration, also because he knew there was nothing he could do about it. And so he channeled his anger at a young red-haired big-breasted prostitute he was having his way with that evening in his room at the Cairhienin inn. She screamed in pain, near hysterical as he beat her almost senseless. At the last he let up, realizing in his rage, his near-madness that it was not a good idea to kill the girl and bring untoward attention to himself. Carrying the whimpering, half-unconscious girl down the stairs and past the near-sleeping innkeeper, cursing to himself all the while, Samos dumped her in the street at the next corner before returning to his room. The girl’s bloodied face and tears were reflected in the streams of rain that flowed down the street.

 

Samos had new orders and he would carry them out faithfully. He dared not cross the Great Lord. Or her. But perhaps this time his valuable work would be appreciated!

 

●

 

Later that evening the gleeman - a blond-haired blue-eyed gangly man in his early twenties who smiled a lot despite several crooked teeth - informed his enthusiastic audience that he was going to sing an old and epic song of war and history. Elessar’s attention grew - and as the gleeman began singing the Warder moved quietly closer to the stage, intent on soaking in every word.

 

It was the Ballad of ‘The War of the Hundred Years’, a historic poem Elessar knew well but always enjoyed seeing performed. The gleeman’s captivating tenor voice caught most of those present in its tight grip and took them on a mesmerizing journey into the past..

 

●

 

►▼◄

 

Ballad of ‘The War of the Hundred Years’

 

Remember the Days of War and of Strife

After Hawkwing the High King lost his Life

When Brother fought Brother for Power, for Land

As Blood flowed in Rivers, on Meadows, in Sand

 

The Empire Collapsed with no designated Heir

Fragmented, Torn apart, more than one could Bare

The Disorder and Conflict brought Tears and Stares

It was named ‘The War of the Hundred Years’

 

Plotting and Scheming arose in the Lands

Positions and Wealth swiftly changed Hands

The Stone of Tear was taken by Force

In Andor Ishara seized Throne at its Source

 

In the Swirls of Chaos, the White Tower’s Attempt

To end the Conflicts, civil Wars that had Rent

Met with no Success, despite years of Toil

As the Troubles escalated, with Bloodied Soil

 

On the Steps of Tar Valon heavy Storms Raged

As Hawkwing’s Army a grand Siege Staged

Then General Maravaile the Shining Walls Freed

When the Amyrlin Seat and Queen Ishara Agreed

 

In the Borderland Provinces Five Governors Met

To discuss the Situation, new Borders to Set

Proclaimed their free Nations, as Kings and Queens

And pledged an Alliance, a Pact strong at Seams

 

Cairhien was conquered by Deftness and Strength

By Nobles and Lords, using subterfuge at Length

In Tanchico the Kingdom of Tarabon Arose

As History was Made, in Stories and in Prose

 

Twenty-Four Nations from the Embers were Born

After a Century of Conflict with the Continent Torn

Few remnants of Hawkwing’s Empire were Left

His Statues and Monuments by changing Winds Swept

 

Remember the Days of War and of Gloom

When Hawkwing’s Empire fell to its Doom

Remember the Nations that rose to the Light

Reborn from the Ashes of Struggle and Fight

 

►▲◄

 

       ▀▄ 

[Cass]

Calia sensed Neve’s head turn toward her, felt the weight of attention as dark Saldaean eyes shifted focus from the road ahead and searched her face as the question hung unanswered in the air.

 

Keeping her back straight and hands loose on the reins in front of her, Cal turned her own head to catch her Sister’s stare.

 

“Well?” she asked, her face carefully neutral.

 

The way Neve’s eyebrows were lifted ever-so-slightly as she studied Cal's demeanour confirmed it wasn’t necessary to repeat the whole question – she had heard the entirety of the spoken words and then some, Cal was certain.

 

Beyond the Blue Sister, Liss kept her eyes deliberately forward, for all Cal’s question had been clearly directed at them both. She was counting on input from both of them for this - all three of them had been keeping an eye on the Warder in question over the past five days or so, and the change in his demeanour would not have gone unnoticed any more than the potential intent behind Cal’s questioning.

 

“Well,” Neve answered, turning her gaze to the group of gaidin riding ahead, her eyebrows drawing downward as she began considering her response, “I have heard of something similar being done… but I do not remember whether that was in reference to an actual act witnessed in our current age, or simply mentioned in history texts. You know as well as I that a true Yellow would likely know more on the subject, and be the best to ask concerning the exact methods in any case - the details are as vague in my mind as the context you seem to propose.”

 

She flicked her attention back to Calia’s face, studying the deliberately-smooth expression as she always had: reading between the lines no-one else could see with open ease.

 

“I am always interested in further discussion though, Cal, and would consider it an honour to offer assistance - should that be possible, and should the request ever be made.”

 

Cal smiled, inclining her head to acknowledge the many layers of the discussion beneath the spoken words, and the generosity of the assistance offered for every level - without the slightest wisp of judgement or a push for more.

 

“Light I’ve missed having you around, Neve!”

 

“I’ll bet,” the Blue said with a twinkle in her eye. “You say that every time though - and unless I’m mistaken, it’s still your choice to keep such distance, and I’ve yet to convince you to stay for good!”

 

“…Even if the benefits are clear!” Liss added with a cheeky wink.

 

“As are the risks!” Cal countered seriously. “For all involved!”

 

Neve nodded her head soberly, “Absolutely.” Her eyes flicked toward Kerin, the depth of her understanding evident in her gaze - not to mention the way the Warder's head suddenly turned back sharply in her direction, a question of alarm and concern in every angle of the move.

 

Liss’ two Warders did likewise.

 

The two women shook their heads almost imperceptibly, and all three gaidin turned slowly back around in their saddles, apparently content to do so, for all each of them still held their every muscle on high alert.

 

Cal sighed, simultaneously grateful for her Sisters’ solidarity and wishing none of them ever need recall the depth of the horror of the events that had proven their understanding and support over the years. Still, it was comforting somehow, knowing these two knew her inside-out and at her worst - and still always had her back, always had her best interests at heart.

 

But still, an unsettled thought wormed its way through her mind as the sun beat down from the cloudless blue sky above, Will that truly be enough against the Shadows of all the battles to come? 

 

Calia returned her gaze to the road ahead. She truly didn't know.

 

 

**

 

Later, as the party turned onto the dusty road toward familiar Renajhar, Liss sidled her mare alongside Calia’s once more, interrupting the internal contemplation and calculations with a knowing smile.

 

“The risks always exist, Cal, in one way or another. For all of us. Especially those of us who have lived – and live on to fight.” The Captain-General eyed her meaningfully before continuing.

 

“The decision of how you fight on is still yours alone to make, however. Beyond that, Light knows the weave belongs to the will of the Wheel - and you know we will support you either way.” Her voice was steady and matter-of-fact.

 

Cal nodded understanding and thanks as Liss trotted forward, both of them lifting their hoods against the chill from the Blight that was nipping at their necks as they entered the village.

 

She sat straighter in her saddle, shifting her brain back into gear and using the remaining time to plan the tasks she had ahead of her this evening – namely a contact to follow up and a report of anything relevant to the Captain General, followed by a much anticipated bath and an aforementioned hearty meal.

 

There was no use chasing her own thoughts round and round in her head before then, in any case. Only then would she be able to regroup with Elessar, Light willing, and ask the questions she wanted answers to.

 

**

It took until after the meal, and a quick chat with Neve - who had confirmed via Kerin that Elessar’s poetry book had made an appearance in their down time - for Calia to decide she would, in fact, attempt to reconnect with the man whose dark cloud seemed to have lifted, and get to the bottom of the series of questions and doubts that were plaguing her mind.

 

She smiled when she looked up to find him approaching, his dark eyes squarely on hers as he gave his practiced Warder’s bow and politely requested a seat in her company. 

 

“I want to apologize for brushing you off the other night,” he began, “It was disrespectful. I was ..in a dark mood. It was a bad day. I am sorry.” He glanced at the table, away from her face, hiding shadows of shame as he talked.

 

“Elessar.” Cal kept her voice direct but understanding, leaning towards him and daring to reach a hand across the table to cover his briefly.

 

“Thank you for your apology, though I am quite certain there was no disrespect taken or intended – the mood and the rough day was obvious.” She lightened her tone, “Or rather, the rough five days,” she emphasised.

 

“Sincerely,” she held his gaze along with his hand, “I am sorry they struck you down so, and that nothing appeared to help but time. You weren’t wrong, in any case – and you don’t really need to apologise! And... I am here if you care to talk to me a little bit more about what was going in the days afterward?” Her blue eyes burned with concern and her own level of understanding as she searched his own dark eyes and waited for his response.

 

...

 

“Truthfully, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you,” she offered quietly some time later, keeping her gaze intently on his, hoping her sincerity showed through.

 

“I know I thanked you afterward, but since then,” she sighed, “– I can’t seem to make up my mind on the line between the stuff of nightmares and the stuff of dreams! When it comes to the Aes Sedai-Warder bond, the risks and consequences of connected bondings seem so impossibly high, on every side." Her voice shook ever so slightly.

 

"And I can’t argue the logic that bonds end in tears. Or be confident the risks are worth it! Knowing you’re unbonded - and at least part of the reasons why - I figured you, of all people here, might understand that part of it all, at least...

 

But. The growing rumours of Shadow rising … our experiences on this trip to date … Now I can’t stop wondering if I haven’t been increasing the risks of failure somewhat? And I've been hoping your understanding and insight might be helpful in discussing various points and balances for and against, if you'd care to share other thoughts?" She paused.

 

"Would you consider a bond again, for example? Given the risks of inevitable darkness and tears?"

[Elessar]

  .. A Catharsis: From Tears to Hope  ..

►▼◄

 

“Elessar.” Calia replied, leaning towards him and reaching a hand across the table to cover his briefly.

 

“Thank you for your apology, though I am quite certain there was no disrespect taken or intended – the mood and the rough day was obvious.” She lightened her tone, “Or rather, the rough five days,” she emphasised.

 

“Sincerely,” she held his gaze along with his hand, “I am sorry they struck you down so, and that nothing appeared to help but time. You weren’t wrong, in any case – and you don’t really need to apologise! And... I am here if you care to talk to me a little bit more about what was going in the days afterward?”

 

●

 

Elessar was silent for quite some time.

 

Calia seemed sincere with her questions but he found that he was not ready to open up about his.. dark spells. He did not know her that well after all and in any case he did not wish to drag up memories of the darkness within him now that he was finally doing better again. But at the same time she seemed to care, seemed to want to listen and a part of him yearned to have someone listen..

 

He needed a few moments to think and asked the waitress for a glass of water. Calia waited patiently, understanding that he needed some time to collect his thoughts. In the time before the waitress returned Elessar went over in his mind whether to share his story, his guilt.. with this Aes Sedai he had come to like.. or whether to not share his secrets, secrets that were his to keep.

 

It made him think of the many Sedais he had been bonded to ever since Leandreen. And how he had managed to go on, to continue giving dutiful service to the White Tower. He had walked a dark road but a road that had led him back to the light so to speak.

 

He pictured his former bondholders in his mind and could see their smiles, telling him to be open and honest with this Green Sister of the White Tower.

 

He had still not decided what to do when the waitress returned with his drink. She gave him another wink before she left, heading over to serve at another table. Reaching for the glass of water, he took a long sip before putting the glass carefully back on the table.

 

Without thinking, he let his intuition guide him. Calia had seemed trustworthy ever since their first meeting and did seem sincere and ready to listen. He had brushed her off when she had approached him the last time and he would not do so again.

 

●

 

Meeting her gaze again, he began to speak. “It’s more than a dark mood and a few bad days as such.”

 

As he spoke he realized that he had needed to speak to someone about this. He also felt intuitively that this Green Aes Sedai deserved his trust and would appreciate his opening up.

 

“You have been to war just as I have.” He began, his voice direct. “You have known loss.” She did not reply but he thought he could see it in her eyes. “These losses leave scars.” He was silent for a moment before he went on. “My loss left a dark scar on my soul. My Aes Sedai died.. my Leandreen.. and I was unable to save her.. to my eternal shame.”

 

My life before yours.

 

Elessar closed his eyes for a few seconds, his fists tightening, feeling the echoes of those dark memories deep within him. Then he opened his eyes again and his face became even more serious. “This is personal to me.. and I don’t usually share my story with others.. my pain is mine to deal with.” He took a long sip from his glass of water, then faced her again. “But I want to make amends from the way I acted in our last talk.. and I appreciate that you want to listen.”

 

He could not tell her that he felt that connection, that kinship, with her that he had felt with his former bondholders; that could be thought as presumptuous. But it was true.. and it helped him open up.

 

●

 

“After Leandreen died and the bond was broken.. in my rage and near-madness I headed for the Blight to avenge her and destroy all Shadowspawn..” - he saw understanding in Calia’s eyes - “but a Yellow Sister came upon me and stopped me in time before killing myself in a “futile attack” as Carrain told me after she had bonded me against my will to keep me alive.”

 

You were right, Carrain.

 

“I survived..” Elessar said, his eyes becoming pensive. “I walked a dark path in myself for a while but with her help - and my service - I gradually found joy and purpose in life again and regained my sanity. And I was able to take my revenge on the Shadow by continuing doing my honourable and important duty as a Warder to the White Tower.”

 

A small smile came upon his face for a fleeting moment, but then his face darkened, his eyes tightening.

 

“However, a dark stain from that piece of shadow I had in me from my near-madness has remained ever since. Carrain, who was an experienced Yellow Sedai healer, was certain it was something psychological, not physical.. that my guilt and shame somehow echoed in my soul, almost like a manifestation of inner pain. She was never able to quite figure it out but she said she had heard of similar cases.”

 

“It re-appears intermittently”, he sighed under his breath, “with no real warning, but thankfully not that often.”

 

“Those are the dark periods as I think of them.. and I had one such when I acted inappropriately towards you the other week.” He paused before adding that the ‘dark patch’ usually lasted 5 or 6 days or so and that he gradually would get back to his good old self during that period.

 

●

 

Part of him felt he had said too much, but another part was relieved that he had spoken of his inner darkness and guilt to someone. He had not done so since his last Sedai, Myrrhi what felt an age ago.

 

Myrrhi.. you were a good listener too. And understanding.

 

“I am not damaged goods though”, the Kandori Gaidin added with a small grin and a wink. “I do not shut down when the black mood comes upon me, although I do become more reclusive as you may have seen. I have more years of dutiful Warder service left in me.”

 

“The Captain of the Warders understands and knows”, he added sincerely. “He and I have known each other for decades.” He nodded to himself. “But I do carry those emotional scars just like I carry some physical scars from battles with the Shadow.”

 

He held her eyes long and squeezed her hand once. “I don’t usually talk about this with anyone not close to me; not everyone would understand or perhaps approve. But now you know.”

 

●

 

Some time later she told him that truthfully, she would be dead if it weren’t for him. Her gaze had been intent and he had felt her sincerity anew. He thought she was right; had he not parried that lethal swing of the Trolloc blade, she would not be alive. She added that though she had thanked him afterwards she couldn’t seem to make up her mind on the line between stuff of nightmares and the stuff of dreams. And that when it came to the Aes Sedai-Warder bond, the risks and consequences of connected bondings seemed so impossibly high, on every side.”

 

He noticed that her voice shook ever so slightly and inferred from it that she had experienced losses of the kind he had mentioned. The loss of a Warder in her case, or several. No wonder she had appeared so understanding when he had told his story. His face mirrored his thoughts and he thought she saw the empathy in his eyes.

 

She continued after a moment. She said that she could not argue the logic that bonds end in tears. Or be confident the risks are worth it! Knowing he was unbonded – and at least part of the reason why – she figured he, of all people here, might understand that part of it all, at least… Myhrri, his last bondholder, was also of the Green Ajah and he guessed Calia knew of that previous bond at least. Perhaps she knew more. Both Leandreen and Kathleen had also been Green, Kathleen was still.

 

As Calia paused for a moment, sipping to her own drink, Elessar went over in his mind what she was telling him. He appreciated her honesty and was glad he had been honest and truthful back. He felt that connection again.. but did not wish to read too much into things. Soon the Green Sister continued.

 

●

 

“But”, Calia went on, “the growing rumours of Shadow rising … our experiences on this trip to date … Now I can’t stop wondering if I haven’t been increasing the risks of failure somewhat?

 

And I've been hoping your understanding and insight might be helpful in discussing various points and balances for and against, if you'd care to share other thoughts?"

 

She paused.

 

"Would you consider a bond again, for example? Given the risks of inevitable darkness and tears?"

 

●

 

Elessar was silent for another long moment.

 

She is asking me. This was not a theoretical question, a hypothetical situation, wondering about his general thoughts on bonds. She is asking me. She is offering, in a roundabout way. I am sure of it.

 

Excitement built inside him but he tried to let nothing show on his face. In his mind he went over her words time and again, sipping to his drink, wondering if he was misunderstanding her, misinterpreting. But that last question, would he consider a bond again, could not be theoretical, could it? He still did not know for certain if she had a Warder in a bond though he had not seen a Warder with her on their journey north and had come to believe she in fact was unbonded. But he could not say for certain. He had considered asking some of the other Gaidin but had felt awkward doing so and so had let it be.

 

If he was wrong though, presuming things that were not true, he would be making a big fool of himself - and it could embarrass her. And as Leandreen had told him somewhat cheekily and with a wink many years ago, men were not good at reading between the lines as it were.

 

And so he treated her questions with care, not revealing his inner thoughts and thrill.

 

●

 

“What I said about bonds ending in tears..” He began carefully. “..It was said in my dark mood, that tough week I told you about. All I could think about then was Leandreen and how that did end in tears.”

 

He paused momentarily, his eyes holding hers.

 

“Of course there are risks, we are fighting the Shadow after all. And never any guarantees.” His voice was steady. “But if I had not believed in the bond, that special connection between Aes Sedai and Warder and the many benefits therein, I would not willingly have entered my many bonds over the years.”

 

“I have been privileged to have been a bonded Gaidin to 5 Aes Sedai through the years”, he continued - “and each bond has given me valuable friendship as well as added strength, purpose, and the other benefits that come with the bond.”

 

“The bond has given me greater opportunity to fufil my duty as a Warder in the Light” - his dark eyes sparkled for a moment - “and has lessened the risk of danger for both me and my Aes Sedais.” He looked at her squarely. “And so in my opinion its worth conquers the risk and danger.”

 

He paused meaningfully, and then added softly. “And tears.”

 

●

 

“And so the answer to your question is..” Elessar said, his voice confident now, “..Yes, I would consider a bond again.. more than that, I would want and appreciate one.. if it was to the right Aes Sedai.”

 

He took a long sip from his drink of water, carefully avoiding her face.

 

Hope could be a dangerous thing. It could easily be smashed to smithereens.

 

A pair of familiar emerald green eyes flashed in his mind - but this time they smiled.

 

      ▀▄ 

[Cass]

Calia studied the man in front of her as his gaze slipped from hers. He took a long draw of his water, continuing to look elsewhere.

 

Elessar had told her much of himself and his past this night, opening up about his loss of Leandreen, the rage and near-madness that followed, the subsequent guilt and shame that plagued him always - and the intermittent 'patches' of black mood that still engulfed him from time to time. She had watched flickers of guilt, grief, shame, vulnerability, empathy, pride and strength pass across his face as he shared his thoughts and stories. They had been held back and hidden at points, though plain enough for her to decipher - his stories of losing his Leandreen and other bond-holders, and the feelings that went along with them, were far more familiar to her than he could possibly know.

 

Time and time again Calia caught herself noting how deep and freely he felt things still, this warrior-poet Leandreen had left behind, and that it was taking more effort than usual to keep the walls solid around her own emotions during his sharing. That internal response unsettled her – the number of people and moments that ever affected her thus these days were very, very few and far between. She was managing it somewhat effectively though, she reasoned. And there was, undeniably, something about this man that drew her attention like Ta’veren drew together points in the pattern. What she didn’t know was where her thoughts and threads were most tangled, or what the Wheel was willing for this particular part of its weave. Change direction, or stay the course?

 

She watched with curiosity as the Warder’s dark eyes continued to look anywhere but at her. Those same eyes had shone with what she had labelled firm belief and pride as the gaidin voiced his continued faith in the benefits of a bond, his opinion that the benefits outweighed the risks, dangers - and tears. For all his voice had quietened somewhat with his acknowledgement of the last, he had said 'yes' to her final question with confidence. Yes, he would want and appreciate another bond – if it was to the ‘right’ Aes Sedai.

 

Then he had looked away.

 

Why?

 

***

 

Straightening her spine ever so slightly, Cal sipped her tea and then set the cup gently back on the saucer. She watched the surface of the drink undulate back and forth despite her attempted care, watched the tea leaves swirling to and fro in the depths of the brew with the momentum that had gathered, just from those simple movements.

 

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction… She resisted a sudden urge to smooth the swaying liquid to stillness with Saidar and instead settled slowly against the back of her chair.

 

Intricate concepts, momentum and inertia, she mused - and she wasn’t just thinking about the tea. For all the blend of ingredients was actually delicious, the shifting liquid and the tousled tea leaves struck her as a perfect metaphor for her newly wavering sense of equilibrium and her current indecision concerning the benefits and drawbacks of maintaining a bond with a warder.

 

Where, she wondered, is the best balance? She didn't know.

 

Is Elesssar right? She didn't know.

 

Do the benefits outweigh the risks? She didn't know that either, but she did know that the risks were ultimately greater for others, and that she now realised she had no right to be the only one making the decisions. 

 

The tea really was delightful. For a moment, she settled for an easier decision and course of action. Forgetting the turbulence in the cup for a moment, she took another sip. And was promptly rewarded with several limp, soggy and bitter leaves on the tongue as a result.

 

The irony brought the tiniest of wry smiles to her lips, even as she sucked in her cheeks with distaste. If she had been the sort prone to superstition, she thought, she might have considered taking that as a sign that things would inevitably turn sour.

 

As it was, her thoughts took a more logical focus.

 

Can bitterness ever actually be avoided?

 

If it is a key characteristic of a mixture’s main ingredient, is it futile to even try?

She didn’t know.

 

Can one even blend effectively with another, without ultimately being left limp and weak? Does the change in individual parts even matter if the sum of them creates a stronger whole?

She didn’t know that either.

 

How do you know what is going to be a potent enough blend?

 

Cal set the cup down yet again, and tried not to sigh out loud. Her thoughts and this metaphor were getting her nowhere. They were nothing short of avoidant procrastination, and she knew it. The real issue, the real answers, the way forward - were right in front of her, all but staring her in the face.

 

***

 

She looked askance at Elessar, sitting across from her, his eyes still elsewhere. He hadn’t said what characteristics made for the ‘right’ type of Sister, but she could guess at some of the likely traits on his list. For starters, unless he was intending to completely reverse his previous preferences, Calia assumed he would still prefer to be bonded to a Green.

 

Wanting a change would be understandable, given his history, she supposed.

 

He was capable of being truly enraptured with a well-performed ballad or poem, after all. She allowed herself to consider that a similar-minded Brown might do. Then supposed perhaps a Blue who wasn’t afraid to stand up and fight would be an ok match also, given that he had strong principles and was passionate about saving the world and others.

 

But somehow, neither of those options felt as right as a choice of Green for the gaidin in front of her. For all his previous comments about maybe being ‘too old’ for fighting, she had watched the man come alive when he was fighting the Shadow – imbued with an energy that surpassed even his interest in a good verse or story. And his skill, focus and determination were plain for all to see. The Battle Ajah was where he belonged, she thought. After all, he was still alive after almost insurmountable odds. He was still seeking out missions like this one, and more than holding his own. He was the type of gaidin and fighter any Sister would be proud to have by her side – but his skills and the tendencies she had observed thus far were very well suited to the Green. As were his looks, with the repeated winks from waitresses wherever they went to prove it. She smiled recalling them.

 

Plus, he had said himself that he and Calia shared the same vision, standing ready against the darkness.

 

And he was right.

 

The two of them were a good match, and so far as a team, they worked together well - even unbonded. They had been in sync from those first moments of dealing with unexpected thugs in the Tar Valon alley. Chances were they would make an even more capable pair against the shadow, skill-wise, if they chose to bond. And she’d known that all along.

 

***

 

It wasn’t a question of trust, or skill, or distraction away from fighting the Shadow, really. Elessar had proven his worth time and time again, and she was truly confident in his skill and dedication to the cause.

 

But risking another bonding had been the last thing from her mind, quite deliberately. For so long.

 

Until that stupid mistake with the trolloc by the river.

 

Until she had been forced to admit she wasn’t just as effective on her own.

 

Until now, with Elessar saying it was something he wanted.

 

Now it was more a question of emotional safety and how to minimise the risk for him. She did not want to be responsible for another Warder’s death. She didn’t know if she was willing to risk anyone’s life just to extend and improve the blows she could deal to the Shadow, didn’t know how she could justify the promise of another`s life before hers, how she could stomach to live with the threat of that as truth, again - ever.

 

She closed her eyes for a second, as if the world around her going dark could black out the shadows in her mind.

 

If he truly meant it, if he truly wanted another bond and he was certain that the benefits of a bond were more important than the painful consequences and risks of it ending in yet more tears, one way or another. And if she was the type of Aes Sedai he wanted to bond, it might be worth it. Maybe they could make it work enough to make a difference, and maybe they could make it work without both their worlds coming to a soul-shattering end.

 

Pinning anything on hope was pointless, she knew – in the end there were just never any guarantees, and hope was always too easily shattered.

 

***

 

"There are indeed risks on the path before us," she said softly, eyes open now, studying his face once more. "I think that is the only thing any of us can be sure is guaranteed, fighting the Shadow…That and the scars borne by those of us left behind."

 

She paused.

 

“On that point, we undoubtedly agree… and thank you for trusting me with your story – and for taking the time to answer the questions I’ve posed to here,” she kept her gaze on him as open and sincere as possible.

 

“I doubt that the scars either of us bear will ever fully heal, Elessar.”

 

Allowing the truth of her feelings to bubble to the surface, she added “- but I’ll have you know that even in your dark mood, you do not act as damaged goods, nor have I ever considered you so. In fact, right from the moment I met you, you have always done yourself, and your brotherhood, credit in your actions and resolve. You have done a remarkable job keeping yourself - and me - alive. Truly, rather than a 'damaged good' you have proven far more like one of those objects some cultures would repair the cracks of with gold, improving strength and flexibility whilst providing proof that the scars of your past have led to further value.”

 

She took a breath to let the words sink in as much as they were able, wondering if he would look at her.

 

After a considerable moment, she let the breath slide back out in a sigh and leant forward once more.

 

***

 

“Elessar,” her voice was still soft in volume, but it was strong and direct in tone.

 

“I wish I had half of your conviction about the true balance of a bond - If I had, I’d have proposed one to you a handful of days after meeting you in Tar Valon.”

 

Another deep breath.

 

“What you’ve just said, about wanting a bond – with the right Aes Sedai, about the benefits far outweighing the risks and the pain - I’d be lying if I said your words – and your actions to date haven’t given me some hope and an inkling of the same belief. But… I want to be open and honest with you, as you have with me. Your response, as much as I half-expected it would be so, is a frighteningly tempting, bitter-sweet, potentially dangerous mix of possibilities for me to try and swallow.”

 

She lifted the tea and sipped slowly, carefully - trying not to catch any of the leaves.

 

***

 

She didn’t want him to look at her at all now, she realised suddenly. It was going to be hard enough to speak what was coming next – to illuminate hope whilst highlighting the fragility of it all and recalling the ways it had been shattered in the past. But the words between them had started, and now she owed him her own hidden truths and understanding of the risks, her vulnerabilities.

 

The tea leaves were still spinning in her tea.

 

“You were right in your guess that I have known losses, fighting the Shadow – how could I not have, being Green as long as this? And the more losses I’ve known – the more lives before mine - the more unstable my belief in the worth of the bond has become. And herein lies the problem. I’m one of the strongest Greens alive, Power-wise – but in all my years, I have never shared the unshakeable … ability or belief … of most of my Shawl Sisters to re-bond as quickly as possible after my Warders have died,” the last words were softer than those before, and she sat back, looking at her hands in her lap.

 

“Elessar, the truth is I haven’t had a Warder for many, many years. Until that day by the river – until you were the only thing that saved me – I had been unabashedly and entirely dependent on nothing but my own Power, and an occasional link with a Sister, to strike at the Shadow and keep myself – and others - safe. But like I said, things have been shifting in my mind. And now I wonder if my logic leaps - the idea that bonds form the root of distraction and emotional destabilisation - stand up to scrutiny at all. I wonder if it should be my right to stand between others and what they are driven to see as their duty, simply because I fear it could end in their death.”

 

She swirled the tea and leaves purposelessly around the cup.

 

“Perhaps, rather than serving others in this, I’ve been wrong, and selfish, and simply too afraid to try. Maybe,” she all but whispered before cutting herself off, lifting her chin and voice to start again, “- Maybe that’s because despite my relative strength, I am weaker with dealing with the loss of a bonded, and despite being otherwise brave, I am excessively afraid of being destabilised by the emotions in a bond.”

 

She drew another deep breath, deciding she would be even more open with him than this: he needed to know certain facts to accurately evaluate whether she was the ‘right’ type of Aes Sedai’ for him.

 

“And…Or - maybe it’s because each of my Warders lost to date was so much more than just a Warder. I truly loved them more than anything else - even the fight against the Shadow. And maybe,” her words picked up speed, “maybe that right there was the greatest flaw and biggest reason for my weakness, or maybe it was our greatest strength while it lasted – I truly do not know. I just know that losing them broke me like nothing else, and at points afterwards I near shattered a great many other lives and hopes in the first instance - and not all of them were Shadow.”

 

More aimless swirling of the leaves followed her words. For a while she worked very, very intently on recalling the compassion and gentle strength of her closest Sisters as they held her and her power safe and secure that first time, rather than the terror on the faces around her in the moments before.

 

Then she downed the last of the tea and set the cup on the saucer.

 

***

 

“I told you when you recited ‘Moon and Star’ that I was married once, to a true love – that I ‘lost my head’ with grief when he died?” she led with a question, but she didn’t -couldn’t- wait for his reaction before continuing.

 

“- Aaran was the third Warder whose life was taken ‘before mine’- to save mine. We were in love for double the amount of time we were bonded and married. I’m- still not sure whether saying yes to him on either count was the best move of my life, or my deepest regret. I do know, however, that his life ended because he was bound - in more ways than one - to save mine, even against overwhelming odds. I am thankful to be alive and still fighting, of course, but I also hate, beyond measure, that he is not." She would have added that she also hated the way it was all her fault for giving in, for saying yes, for not being strong enough to refuse for him forever, for his own good - but the veil over that guilt was slipping, and once the distortion of truth had been considered, she couldn't lie. If there were two sides to every connection, every bonding, then what right did she have to minimise the decisions and interests of the other side, to make a a claim of totality at any point?

 

When she could continue without her voice giving way, she added, “The first two were my older brothers – and they were everything to me, from the moment I was born.”

Words like those were never enough to communicate the absolute depth of feelings she’d had, and still had, for each of the three men she’d lost as Warders, she thought.

 

Though her gaze was strictly on Elessar, images of her brothers in their younger years danced through her memory, all but overlaying her true field of vision. Joesh: carrying her on his shoulders through the apple orchards at home when she could barely walk; stopping the wandering paws of many a drunk and handsy patron as herself and Kaylan served up cider, ale or mischief on the late shifts at the inn; laughing at her surprise as he whirled her around in the air with his and Shem's unexpected arrival at the Tower; talking earnestly with her at the White Flame; focused as he concentrated on the forms, half hidden in a field of fog; standing ready at her side with blade drawn and fancloak shifting in the sunlight. Shem: tears streaming down his face, rivers of pure agony while all three of their hearts broke, the pain echoing around and around the bond, amplified to - and beyond - the power of three.

 

Several images blurred so easily with moments of her more recent past and memories composed around the man in front of her now. The talk and meeting in Tar Valon, at the White Flame itself; watching him train in the morning mists of Stelton, from her window of the Red Fox; seeing the whirl of his cloak and his smile as he saved her neck from the trolloc blade by the river… catching the grief in his face, sensing his dark cloud, the reign of pain and tears, descend.

 

Yes, words were all she had for now, so for now, those would have to suffice. She hoped they had been enough for Elessar to understand.

 

 

***

 

“Please forgive my arrogance if I am suddenly too personal, or jumping to the wrong conclusions here, Elessar. But now that I have heard your opinion on the bond itself, I would know your true preferences in terms of what you might desire between us, if you will share it? What sort of Aes Sedai would you deem right for you to serve, for example? And now that you’ve heard my reasons for not bonding, could the right sort of Sedai be me?”

 

‘Well,’ she thought, knowing Neve - and many others - would have conniptions at such a blatant lack of diplomacy in such a situation, but there it was. She had always been direct, not one to beat bushes or speak garlands. ‘There’s nothing like jumping straight into the barrel instead of sniffing first, or sipping with a stalk of hay,' she thought. Her Da had always meant that sarcastically at home, but she preferred overlooking that particular nuance - to her ears, the saying was always better as the truth.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t asked you earlier to be my Warder, if that is something you would truly desire, and it is something you feel the benefits are worth being bound to, even ‘til death?"

 

She phrased it as a question, just in case. Not that she could, or would lie - honesty was the best policy when it came to both the Oaths, and setting up a solid foundation for any lasting relationship. But the truth she omitted out loud was that she would be far sorrier to have asked and had that question lead to Elessar's death without knowing the entirety of the answer.

 

"I am very thankful to have you in this party, and to have had you fighting so dutifully by my side. As I said, it is essentially the risks of bonds themselves I have doubts about – not you, or your service and abilities.

 

For my part, I see potential strength and, I must admit, much sense in us working together - and a number of ways to bring those together to fruition against the Shadow. One of those ways could be a bonding - if you truly desire it knowing what you now know - and whatever else you might want to ask. But first I want to know what you want, for yourself.

 

“I know that what I want is to fight  every battle from here to Tarmon Gaidon to the best of my ability, turn every possible thread of success to the side of the Light. I know that I am headstrong and prone to throw my all at the Shadow given half a chance. I will always analyse risks, but I know I will not always consider my safety paramount – and I know that this would be a danger to anyone who functions otherwise. And for all of those reasons, and those outlined before, I will not ask you to sign your life up to be given away before mine. I cannot."

 

She paused for breath, and to drop the Aes Sedai mask completely from her face once again. Openly she said, “You have already done more than enough, and you owe me nothing. I, on the other hand, owe you anything and everything I am still alive and able to give. Beyond that, I truly respect you, and I would be honoured to have you continue to fight by my side – in any capacity you choose. But the options of how that might happen are open, and I want to do right, and respect your right to direct your life in this matter,” she emphasised those lasts point again, followed by an outwardly steady conclusion - "the decision is yours.”

 

And all of that was true in its entirety, no words of omission.

 

Had he truly meant it? The thoughts were whirling in place of the tea. Did he truly want another bond and was he was certain that the benefits of a bond were more important than the painful consequences and risks of it ending in yet more tears? Worth being bound even tighter to the risk of death when fighting the Shadow? Was she the ‘right’ type of Aes Sedai for him? Could they make a partnership between them work enough to make a difference, without further damage to each other, or their cause?

 

She stared into the dregs of her tea as she waited for his questions or answers, however they might come - and almost smiled.

 

She wasn’t one for superstition, but even still. She could almost believe the way the now-pale tea leaves stood out in a perfect circle of brightness against the dark staining on the bottom of her teacup was a positive sort of sign.  

[Elessar]

  .. A Moment of Revelation  ..

►▼◄

 

The sounds of noisy chatter intermingled with the gleeman’s flute playing as Elessar’s eyes swept across the busy Common Room. He was thinking about everything he had shared with Calia and wondered anew if he had said too much. He was also waiting for her to respond.

 

And he was trying to keep hope from flooding his mind.

 

He had for quite a long time harboured a wish to bond an Aes Sedai again, feeling somewhat lessened unbonded, unable to fulfil his duty one hundred percent to the White Tower. He had been uncertain if it would ever happen again. There were many competent young Warders out there, after all, that Sisters might prefer bonding. Now that this Sister of the Green seemed to be offering him a bond, unless he was reading far too much into things, the feeling of hope rose in him and he needed to keep it at bay. He needed to be certain.

 

He sipped anew from his glass of cold water and then his eyes fastened on Calia’s face again. She seemed to study his face for a while before she spoke.

 

●

 

She told him that there are indeed risks on the path before them, and that that was the only thing any of them could be sure was guaranteed, fighting the Shadow; that and the scars borne by those left behind.

 

Elessar nodded inside, knowing the truth of her words. He imagined he saw recognition in her eyes for a moment before she continued.

 

She added that on that point they undoubtedly agreed - and she thanked him for trusting her with his story and for taking the time to answer the questions she had posed. He saw sincerity in her eyes as she kept her gaze on him and heard it in her voice.  

 

“I doubt”, she ended, “that the scars either of us bear will ever fully heal, Elessar.”

 

The Gaidin felt the impact and emotion of those words.

 

Scars felt; scars shared. They are a part of us. He thought. They will always be.

 

He turned away from her and stared into the crowd now close to the stage where the gleeman performed one his jaunty tunes. Many of the local people banged their tables in enthusiasm, spilling beer in the process. No one seemed to care. His mind returned to his own emotional scars, to the burden he always carried deep within. He kept staring at the crowd as she continued talking, but he listened to every word.

 

●

 

“But I’ll have you know that even in your dark mood, you do not act as damaged goods, nor have I ever considered you so. In fact, right from the moment I met you, you have always done yourself, and your brotherhood, credit in your actions and resolve.”

 

He appreciated her words more than he could say.

 

She told him that she thought he had done a remarkable job keeping himself - and her - alive. Truly, rather than ‘damaged goods’, she said he had proven far more like one of those objects some cultures would repair the cracks of with gold, improving strength and flexibility whilst providing proof that the scars of his past had led to further value.

 

Turning to face her again, he felt that her words moved him. His deficiency, as he often thought of it, with the ‘dark stain’ upon him had made him feel he was lessened and so hearing her speak of it this way warmed his soul.

 

As she spoke on, her voice soft in volume but strong and direct in tone, he listened in silence. He quickly understood that she was conflicted too in many ways, and that she too bore emotional scars. She too was fragile despite her seeming strength. She too had known losses. She too had known a Broken Bond. Several in fact.

 

As he listened to her spoken words, he felt the kinship between them grow. This was very hard for her to speak about, he could see that in her face. But the loss she had experienced echoed in many ways the loss he had experienced. And the guilt she had felt at her Warders’ deaths echoed the guilt he still felt at Leandreen, his Aes Sedai’s death. If they were to bond, it would be with the realization that she would have to live with the fear of his death just as he would have to live with the fear of hers. And potential guilt. And potential great sadness. There was perfect symmetry there, dark perhaps but also very real and very true.

 

When she sat back, looking at her hands in her lap, he closed his eyes, thinking about what she had told him.

 

●

 

He could understand her conflicting emotions. She had been independent, strong for many years since the death of her last Warder. To bond again for her was not something she could do out of hand. She would need to feel certain - need to feel confident it would be worth it.. again. The episode with the Trolloc had made her think anew. Perhaps she was better off bonded again. But perhaps only with the right Warder? He could not tell.

 

His eyes strayed to the cup of tea before Calia and he thought for a moment he saw swirls inside, almost like an omen.

 

She spoke on and Elessar got the feeling that she too somehow needed to get this off her chest just like he had done with his sharing. We are different in some ways, but also so similar. The thought struck him as he listened to her voice. The feeling of kinship he had felt with his other bondholders was in some ways even stronger since this woman had experienced losses to a greater degree than his former Aes Sedais.

 

Her honesty moved him, her sincerity warmed him as she shared her story. Being connected to one another in a Warder-Sedai bond was something difficult to explain to others. The connection made them very close emotionally, almost functioning like one unit, two separate parts but at the same time united, in purpose and resolve. Elessar had spoken about it with Leandreen and though he was never quite sure of all the benefits Aes Sedai got from a bond, she had nodded agreeing that it was valuable and important. He did not know if it ‘felt’ the same from the Aes Sedai’s end, but he could say for certain that he had never experienced anything like it elsewhere in life.

 

●

 

When she told him that she had loved her Warders in a stronger way than was perhaps common in a Warder-Sedai partnership, that she had married her Warder and also that the others had been her brothers, he understood that her losses had been even more strongly felt. His bonds had been strong friendships but never anything more than that. Several of his Aes Sedais had been Green and he knew that some Greens married their Warders and/or had them as lovers, but it had never been that way for him. His friendships with his bondholders had been very strong and very valuable, closer than many, but had never been sexual.

 

Leandreen had teased him about it at the beginning of their bond but he had replied honestly that he feared a ‘love-bond’ could interfere with his duty as a Warder, that too strong emotions - of love -  could cause distractions and wrong, fateful decisions made in a crisis situation. She had chuckled in response but kindly and had responded that some Warders did indeed share that opinion, while others felt a ‘love-connection’ made them stronger. Deep in his heart Elessar feared he would have gone utterly mad beyond redemption if he had been in love with Leandreen too, not just cared a lot about her, when she died.

 

Calia was silent for a while after she had finished telling about her dead husband and dead brothers. All valiant Warders.

 

Elessar bowed his head almost in homage to the dead.

 

He then watched as Calia sipped from her tea.

 

●

 

He felt she was going to say more and so he waited with his reply. Soon she met his eyes again and spoke on.

     

“Please forgive my arrogance if I am suddenly too personal, or jumping to the wrong conclusions here, Elessar”, she began. “But now that I have heard your opinion on the bond itself, I would know your true preferences in terms of what you might desire between us, if you will share it? What sort of Aes Sedai would you deem right for you to serve, for example? And now that you’ve heard my reasons for not bonding, could the right sort of Sedai be me?”

 

There it was. His presumption had been right. She was asking him to bond. In a bit of a roundabout way perhaps but even so. He tried to hide the small smile that came upon his lips and waited to see if she wanted to add something more.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t asked you earlier to be my Warder”, she added, “if that is something you would truly desire, and it is something you feel the benefits are worth being bound to, even ‘til death?"

 

            ●

 

She wants to be sure this is something I want. His intuition told him as much; and deductions from what she had told him. They were both strong but vulnerable, they both needed to be certain this was the right course of action for it to work out. That a bond was worth it despite the risks of danger and not the least tears. And potential death.

 

The potential of joy. But with the fear of sadness.

 

Hope blossomed in Elessar’s heart but he kept his face smooth although his dark eyes sparkled a little.

 

Calia spoke on and he listened to her voice, at the same time thinking about what he was going to say in response.

 

She spoke about being happy to have him fighting dutifully by her side and that the doubts she had were not of him but rather of the risks of bonds. She saw sense and advantages in them working together against the Shadow. But she needed first to know what he wanted, for himself. She spoke of her desire to fight the Shadow at every turn but also that she would sometimes take risks if she deemed them necessary. It was important than anyone who fought with her should know that, especially a bonded Warder. And so, she added, she would not ask him to sign his life up to be given away before hers. She could not.

 

She paused for a few moments as Elessar considered her words. He knew that in the fight against the Shadow some risks were always necessary. Calia’s last sentence could be misinterpreted as saying she did not want a bond, but he was pretty certain from everything else she had said that she simply wanted to emphasize that he needed to be absolutely certain if he considered accepting her bond. Also with a view of her previous losses. She feared the guilt she would feel if he died protecting her. He understood that well. But a Warder at her side would make her safer, and all Warders were proud to serve - knowing full well the dangers involved and accepting them. Some Aes Sedai struggled to understand that part, but it was something every Gaidin knew well. It was something every Gaidin lived for.

 

●

 

Elessar took another long sip from his glass of water. The gleeman was telling a story about a strong-willed southern lass of nobleman’s blood who had run off with the blacksmith’s son and were hunted by her brothers but the Gaidin ignored it. His face was on this Aes Sedai before him, the woman who was in her own way asking him to bond her. Or rather asking him if he wanted to bond her.

 

She told him that he had already done more than enough and that he owed her nothing. She, on the other hand, owed him anything and everything having saved her life. She added that she truly respected him and would be honoured to have him continue to fight by her side. In any capacity he chose. Again it was clear she wanted him to be certain it was what he wanted, and that she would respect his choice. The decision was his.

 

She does not really know what it is I want.

 

He realized that he had not said anything to her to indicate that he desired a bond. He had spoken about the “right Aes Sedai” and had, perhaps, thought she would read between the lines and perhaps she had done so but even so she could not be certain of his intentions. It was therefore natural that she was wording her questions somewhat carefully. He recalled being a little fearful that he was reading too much into things, perhaps she was fearful of reading too much into things too? And could she be certain he had truly meant what he had said about bonds in general with a view to what he had said when under his ‘dark spell’?

 

All these things ran through his mind as he waited to see if Calia was going to say anything more. He looked for the second time at Calia’s tea cup and imagined he saw reflections therein. He saw her staring into her tea as well, almost as if it were a cup filled with revelations.

 

When it became clear that she was finished speaking, Elessar went over in his mind all the things he wanted to say. He had to work to keep his emotions in check, he felt the thrill of hope deep inside, so he cloaked himself in the Flame and the Void just as he had done so many times through the years, feeling detachment and clarity. He was not totally successful though but it calmed him sufficiently.

 

●

 

He made up his mind how he wanted this to unfold. His gaze met hers and his eyes smiled.

 

“Let’s go out and talk some more”, he said lightly, inviting her to join him as he got up from the table.

 

Calia followed him out, her face not revealing her thoughts. They passed a half-drunk local man of middling years with a scruffy look by the door who bumped into Elessar and muttered under his breath. The Warder gave him a stone-hard look and the man withdrew, seeing the dangerous stare and the power behind it.

 

It was mid-evening and dark outside. A soft wind from the north-west made it seem more chilly than it was. A few lights by the inn brightened the darkness but there was hardly anyone about. Elessar headed down the dusty street past the local blacksmith, a couple of houses with lights in the windows, and a small worn-down shop that seemed about to fall apart. Turning a corner, he walked down a long dusty path only six feet wide with Calia beside him and passing a little-used shed he finally came to a long worn fence beside a couple of old trees with low branches and a few yellow-brown leaves. The silver moon high above was partially hidden by clouds but gave slight light above this part of the village.

 

The Warder stopped, then walked a dozen steps away from her and stood staring at the trees for a long while in silence. The Aes Sedai watched him silently but did not speak.

 

“We are fighting for life.” Elessar said finally over his shoulder, his voice strong. “The fight against the Shadow is a fight for life.” He picked up a fallen twig from the ground and ran it between his fingers. “I remember when I first bonded Leandreen so many years ago”. His voice became thoughtful, filled with memory.

 

“Some mistakenly thought that the Green Ajah, the Battle Ajah, had a Passion for Death since they threw themselves into battle with the minions of the Dark One. I remember Leandreen telling me it was the quite the opposite. The Green Ajah and its Aes Sedai have a Passion for Life. That is why they fight so hard to preserve it.”

 

We stand ready. It was almost a whisper, but Calia heard.

 

“This old tree is not that healthy-looking”, Elessar went on, pointing at the nearest tree, “but it is still life. It is what we all should fight for.”

 

●

 

Now he turned around and faced Calia.

 

The wind touched his face gently, ruffling his hair. High above in the sky, where the winds were stronger, a black bird of prey floated on the currents as it made its way ever northwards.

 

“Fighting for life has been my life ambition”, he said, his voice softer now. “It was why I joined the Warders to begin with, many, many years ago. And thereby fighting the Shadow, the destroyer of life, and freedom.” He held onto the twig as he spoke. “And I have found that fighting with the Green Ajah is my most effective way of achieving this. As a Warder I will do my duty in any capacity, but it is with the Battle Ajah I have felt most at home.”

 

He placed the twig by the fence and walked up to Calia. He took her hand carefully in his. Meeting her gaze, he spoke softly. “Thank you for sharing your past with me. For honouring me with your kind words and trust. For speaking words that feel true.”

 

“You have not jumped to the wrong conclusions.” His dark eyes smiled again. “I have felt some of that kinship with you that I felt with my former bondholders ever since we first met. The same vision, trust and strength. I respect you and admire your grit and determination. But also the vulnerability that is a part of us both.”

 

Strength paired with fragility.

 

“We have worked well together”, he added, “and I believe together we will stand stronger, safer and conquer the risks and dangers in our battle against the Shadow. There are never any guarantees as you correctly mentioned, that is the way of life in general and especially ours, only honourable duty and service in the Light.”

 

●

 

“The “right” Aes Sedai”, he said confidently, “stands before me.”

 

He felt his calmness beginning to evaporate despite the Flame and the Void. Emotions were taking him and his eyes sparkled now.

 

“And so”, he added heartfully, “Calia Aes Sedai, I would be honoured if I could serve you as your Warder, dutifully, honourably till death and beyond.”

 

At that very moment the clouds that had partially shadowed the moon departed and the moon’s silver rays shone down on the two of them, pure and strong, as if in approving affirmation.

 

Elessar Telcontar Gaidin let go of her hand and knelt before Calia Luin Aes Sedai, head bowed.

 

 

“My Life Before Yours.”

 

Closing his eyes reverently.

 

“If you will have me.”

 

 

●

 

The wind stopped blowing and the air seemed to go still, as if in a Moment of Revelation.

 

      ▀▄