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A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

One Last Stand - Song for Lyanna (Closed WT/SG RP)


Lyanna

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I can hear you

Calling …

Your voice is bright

Hear me

Calling back …

After fighting

You’re always right

Always right

I tried …

The Gathering - "Forgotten"

 

There was a moment of total confusion when Lannie and she went through the floor, a moment of dust and dry coughing, of bruises and aches everywhere, of a dim awareness that she had to be on her feet now - but for what? And then on the other end of the room something shifted and Lyanna realized that they were not alone. Lanfir still held on to the Power, they were still shielded and Lyanna amazed at the sheer force of will of her friend - lover - as she slowly stood up, ignoring the tatters of her ruined dress that clung to her legs.

 

One of her sleeves was gone and bruised flesh protruded, and she could feel the slow trickle of blood alongside her face. Other than that she seemed miraculously unscathed. She too still held onto Saidar, still forming the circle with Lanfir. And within seconds, a familiar voice came drifting towards her through the dustspeckled darkness.

 

"Ah the Keeper and the Armylin, how nice to see you again. What a lovely place you have..."

 

The small ball of woven Saidin that suddenly appeared above them set everything in a reddish tint and Lyanna winced when she saw the destruction. This had been storage space, and everywhere around them walls had caved in or had started to crumble, and they were standing on the shattered mosaic tiles that had once made up the floor of the marvellous hall above their heads. Bales of silk, wool, it all spilled everywhere in every hue of color, now ruined. Shattered pots of preserves, food, it all had gone flying. Not that Lyanna cared much. These things all could be replaced. People could not.

 

Caladesh obviously relished in his deeds, telling them how sorry he was for the mess, a laughter barely contained in his voice. Moreover, he actually did laugh aloud when he tried to take their shawls and burn them, but Lanfir made sure they could hold on at least to that. He wasn't so very pleased about that.

 

"Temper, temper little ones. You mustn't make me mad.

I know for a fact that both of you cannot hope to match me. Even linked... oh sorry, I mean even if you "form a circle", you have no hope against me. Though you have shown me what I must do. I must take the Aes Sedai apart piece by piece, not all at once. When I am finished with you two I will start again on them, and finally erase you evil witches from the Wheel."

 

He laughed again, its chilling sound echoing off the walls.

 

"I will of course be sporting and give you one last shot, A chance however small it may be, of beating me. Oh but please speak first, your Last Words and whatnot. I will even engrave them on the White Tower's tombstone."

 

Lyanna shot a sideways glance at Lanfir, holding her tongue. She would not give this alleyrat the satisfaction of speaking one word he could mock further. She drew herself up and regarded him coolly, thanking the Tower and the training she'd received to at least be able to do that. She knew she looked imposing, no matter how smeared her flesh was, no matter how short of statue, no matter how tattered her dress. She arranged the folds of her Keeper stole around her shoulders carefully, all the while considering how strong her really was. Pity they didn't have one of the ter'angreals with them that could actually convey to them whether he was holding Saidin. It would have helped, if only a little.

 

Lanfir was strong though. Strong, and skilled enough to weave Balefire. They knew the weave, Serashada had taught them, and both had been trembling with the sheer power it brought with it. Of course it was a forbidden weave, because it could unravel the strands of Time where you stood, taking strands out of it and knitting things back together in unexpected ways, but this situation surely called for desperate measures.

 

They were on the brink of all out war, and one madman would presume to stride into the White Tower and strike it at its very heart, leaving it crippled while it needed to be strong? Light, never. If they could take him out with Balefire, they might reverse the effect he'd had on the Tower all together. It hadn't been very long yet since they'd come running down to corridors from the Amyrlin's study. Every second they wasted now might be a second too long.

 

Lyanna looked at Lanfir, who stared at Caladesh, fascinated. "If only we could turn back time ... " she murmured, hoping Lanfir would take the hint.

 

Lya

Delving her own grave

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These are my final words to you

I know you're listening can you hear me

The time has come to say 'goodbye'

These are my final words to you

~ Bullet for my Valentine - "Her voice resides"

 

 

He was condescending and giddy and Lanfir knew that it wouldn't be very hard to hate his guts. It wouldn't take all that much, she thought. Just look at him standing there, laughing, while he has killed our people in the heart of the Tower, where we are supposed to be safe and working for the Light... No, it would definitely not be very hard. His insolence made it all the more easy to do so.

 

The Power surged through her veins. It was so much more than she was used to and technically its sweetness should have drowned out all the myriad lacerations and bruises all over her body. However, saidar heightened her senses as well and made her more aware of her surroundings to the point where she seemed to be walking around in some super-reality that was so much more intense than every day life.

 

And Lyanna was so close; she could feel her lover as intimately close as her warders... of which she could feel Syl alarmingly close by the way, was she coming here? Lanfir tried to send through the bond that her youngest warder should stay away, this was not her battle, but she didn't think it was working. Lyanna's being was full of power as well, power and sweetness and bright thinking.

She wouldn't have wanted it any other way; standing in the middle of life-threathening danger, bleeding and tattered, with her lover right next to her. Whatever happens, at least we are together.

 

Caladesh, confident and laughing and more than a little mad, didn't seem to consider them even the slightest threat. "I will of course be sporting and give you one last shot, A chance however small it may be, of beating me. Oh but please speak first, your Last Words and whatnot. I will even engrave them on the White Tower's tombstone."

 

Lanfir would have rolled her eyes at him for all his boasting and stupid blathering, but next to her Lyanna murmured: "...If only we could turn back time..."

 

And that hit home. It was something she might have been hinting at already in the back of her mind, but Lyanna's suggestion made things click together. He was giving them one shot. If he were so confident that he meant it, then she and Lyanna knew a way to make that shot count. And he would not expect it at all, because this weave was so dangerous, so forbidden, that even the Shadow hesitated to utilize it's devastating power. A true Doomsday device.

 

It was a memory of a weave that she and Lyanna considered as their greatest triumph on Serashada. They'd gotten the Forsaken to teach them Balefire after a long struggle. Eventually the woman had given in and taught them.

 

"Not that any of you will be able to manage to weave it alone," the woman had commented with that eternal spite in her voice. "Lyanna is too pitifully weak and Lanfir, you are so bad with fire that it's a wonder you can even light a candle." She had chuckled at that and Lanfir had bitten on the inside of her cheek to keep from commenting that it was not true. It wasn't. Lanfir was not very talented with Fire like Lyanna was, but she was adept enough to use it productively.

 

But then Serashada had shown them the actual weave and Lanfir knew that the Forsaken was right. She could not muster the amount of Fire that was needed for this glittering weave full of all the elements. "We would need to link to do this," Lyanna had muttered, and she'd been right. Lanfir memorized the weave as it hung suspended in the air before them and then had the Forsaken dissolve the weave by controlling her through the a'dam.

 

She remembered. Ah yes, she remembered the weave very well. She was adept and strong enough to weave it, once she could muster enough Fire to weave.

 

The memory came back to her within the blink of an eye. She looked directly at Caladesh with all the defiance she felt - she was the Amyrlin, she was trained to fight the Shadow, and this was such a battle, this is what she lived for - and then smiled vaguely. "You shouldn't have come here," she told him almost gently.

 

Most of all, he shouldn't have allowed them a shot in before he would attack. He couldn't withstand balefire, nothing could. It was forbidden, it was a dangerous weave... but Lanfir fought to win.

 

Spirit and Fire and Earth and Water and Air. With the added saidar filling her being and Lyanna's comforting presence next to her and safely shielded from harm, she started weaving. It was so much easier than it should have been. Balefire, Caladesh. Have fun with your one last shot.

 

 

 

(OOC: Syl, you're up!)

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Syl was not in the Tower when her world began its end, but in the Yards, weaving through the Forms with more determination than masterly grace. Sweat dripped from the short-cut tips of her hair, fanning the courtyard in a fine spray as she whirled. Her sleeveless shirt hung soaked from her thin frame. Most people who saw Sylandia Kaiserian judged her a servant, or perhaps an especially shy page. She was small, no taller than most children, and her face bore the youth of its eighteen years in truth. Even should she wear the White her gait lacked the budding self-importance of novices, though if one looked closely, there was a certain balance to her movement no ordinary child could claim. What people noticed about her instead were her scars. Her back was literally etched with them. They ran jagged patterns down her arms and stood out prominently on her neck. It had taken Syl a long time to learn not to be ashamed of those scars. Her road to Wardership had been marked by struggles unfamiliar to the average aspirant, and one need only look on those scars to know why. Lack of innate talent with weaponry was the least of Syl’s troubles. She had come to the Tower to escape a ruined childhood from which the healing process had been long, and quite frankly incomplete. Her… visions… spoke to that. Only Alec’s coaching and Lanfir’s patient support had taught her to discern between reality and the phantasmal images from her own disturbed consciousness. Alec was gone now- the thought of her murder triggered mixed fury and grief so strong she nearly stumbled- but her legacy lived, and Syl enjoyed a fairly normal life.

 

Lanfir’s presence in the back of her mind spoke of administration; Syl had come to recognize the peaceful semi-boredom in her bondmate’s thoughts as a herald of paperwork. She took a breath, began the sweeping transition into Low Wind Rising— and then the contentment she’d been enjoying evaporated from under her like so much thin ice. People were screaming. Syl picked herself up off the cobblestones with ringing ears. The foundation was damaged- she could feel the earth beneath her trembling from the onslaught, and groped for the handle of her fallen saber in a daze. Doing so brought her in contact with a young Warder who’d been practicing near her only moments before. Now his eyes stared sightlessly up at nothing. Anduin, that had been his name. He’d earned his Tower Guard’s cloak so recently, Syl had been wearing one herself during his promotion. Perfectly healthy Warders falling dead in the Yards could only mean one thing: Aes Sedai were dying. For the first time in centuries, the White Tower of Tar Valon was under attack.

 

Syl found her saber and ran towards the chaos full tilt.

 

She could feel Lanfir moving through the corridors towards the source of the destruction and sent a surge of caution through the bond. Wait for me! She couldn’t lose Lannie like she had Alec. No chance of a battle-hardened veteran of centuries sitting quietly in her office while her very home was under attack; Amyrlin or no Amyrlin, Lanfir Aes Sedai would meet the threat to the White Tower on her own terms. Not a thought for her own safety skittered across her bondmate’s emotions. Wait, Lannie. Syl ran.

 

Unsurprisingly there were far more people trying to get out of the Tower at that particular moment than in, and Syl was delayed by a throng of panicked visitors and residents alike. Someone had taken it upon themselves to start herding the novices outside to where it was safer, and white-clad girls were everywhere, crying, screaming, or just standing around dazed. “Bloody move,†she growled at them, with uncharacteristic vehemence. Something was happening within the Tower. Another vast tremor rocked the stones beneath them and a bright jolt of pain went through the part of her directly connected to Lanfir. They had fallen- where? Cellar door. They were in the cellar below the Tower, but the chaos around the Great Hall would be too great for her to reach them in time. She had to get to the door. Sylandia gathered herself and ran through a mercifully deserted series of interconnected corridors until she found the set of stairs she wanted. She leapt to the bottom and flung open the door.

 

The scene she faced was one of nightmares: the simple storage space she was familiar with was now an unrecognizable mass of stone, rubble and bodies. She could see Lanfir on one side of the makeshift chamber, with Lyanna beside her- a bit bruised, but mercifully otherwise unharmed. The amount of saidar she could feel surging through the bond meant without a doubt that they were linked; Syl uttered a silent prayer of thanks that Lanfir was not alone, and that it was Lyanna who was with her. There was no other soul in the Tower she would rather have defending her Aes Sedai.

 

The figure standing opposite of them would have been unremarkable if not for his obvious madness, which Syl noted with a grimace of reluctant familiarity. She of all people should know the signs. His face was flushed, eyes wild and ecstatic, and whatever he was mumbling about the White Tower’s tombstone was clearly not sane. A rogue male channeler, then. Some distant part of her had hoped for Serashada. Not a day went by that Syl didn’t pray for a chance to reach her mentor’s murderer, but if her prayers were ever to be answered, today was plainly not the day. She took a step forward, moving silently into the room.

 

“You shouldn’t have come here,†Lanfir said, serene and almost kind. Through the Amyrlin’s inner eye Syl felt the lifeblood of the Wheel coalesce and take form with more complexity and depth than ever she had felt before, and suddenly she knew her bondmate’s plan. Balefire. It would work! She whirled back to the madman and saw this time the tiniest glint of a spark between his fingertips. And another. And another. The hairs on her neck rose. Was there a charge in the air?

 

He lied. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. He’s going to channel lightning, he’s channeling it already I can feel it, and they’ll be too late, the weave is too complex… Caladesh shifted slightly, and panic consumed her. Lanfir and Lyanna were too far away for Syl to get to them in time.

 

“No!â€

 

The word was out of her mouth even as her sword was in her hand and her first running steps pounded amongst the scattered rubble. She could feel Lannie’s frantic denial through the bond, words echoing through the chamber, but nothing except their assailant mattered. She watched as if in slow motion as his features softened, smoothened, red hair blooming around his shoulders and settling provocatively around his waist. Serashada. Alec’s murderer. So it WAS her, after all.

 

I’ll kill you for Alec, you Lightforsaken whore.

 

Syl’s teeth bared themselves in a snarl. Her pace quickened, her saber raised.

 

She would end this.

 

 

OOC- So no one is confused, Caladesh is not actually morphing into Serashada here- Syl is simply a bit touched, and since she's upset at the moment that’s what she sees. I’ll post once more to reflect her final moment once Caladesh has a chance to react.

 

 

Sylandia Kaiserian

Bonded to Lannie

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"You shouldn't have come here," came as a almost whisper from one of the women. Caladesh smirked at it. Connecting the last couple threads to his weave he could feel sparks jumping between his fingers, wanting release.

 

Toying with the idea of just killing them straight away he finally noticed the newcomer, just to have her rush at him.

 

“No!â€

 

Cocking his head at the charging woman Caladesh threw silky light blue threads of Air around her, throwing the sword from her hands and dislocating her arms. Lifting her up slightly he smiled at her.

 

"This wasn't ment for you, but I can always make more." Letting the Weave ignite Lightning, sparked around him, and he wove it in a arch around himself. Eerie blue light shined in his eyes, and for a moment looking into this women's eyes, he could see the madness he now had no longer doubt was reflected in his.

 

Releasing the Lightning from its arch around him, he hurled it at the woman, punching it into her stomach and watching as it slowly, with more intensity, burst through her. Slamming her on the floor with Air for good measure, he released her, and turned his attention back to his prey.

 

Caladesh,

OCC: Sorry its so short i wasn't sure what i was ment to do.. :)

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OOC: You did GREAT, Cala :D

Kat: I hope I didn't go too soon, I had these beautiful images in my head...

 

Give what's worth remembering

Give what's worth dying

Give it all

Oh, back for more

If you come closer

I'll show you how it feels...

~The Gathering, "Monsters"

 

Spirit through Fire, around Air, more Spirit in a double strand - it all went faster than her eyes could blink. The weave was melting together and charged up the air in the dusty and smoky cellar until Lanfir could nearly taste the electric charge in the air. It was more, heavier than she'd ever woven, but her threads were strong and her weaving was sure and smooth. No mistakes.

 

Her mind snapped back to her weave of desperation, the Healing weave that had cost Gytta's life in Fal Dara. Over fourty hours without sleep, non-stop channeling and the horrors of battle had ravaged her then. How much easier it went now, when she'd had a full night's of sleep and the only things that were fuzzing her mind were her tumble down the cellar and the two glasses of wine she'd drunk earlier this afternoon in another life...

 

The weaving would be joyful, if she had not been so painfully aware that it was Balefire that she was weaving and that she could very well face dire consequences even if Lyanna and she managed to destroy the crazy channeler before them. No matter. She had taken risks before and paid for them (Alec...). Lanfir knew what it meant to give everything for the Cause: the Light. Alec had died for the knowledge of this weave, Lanfir realized. It would please her if she'd ever found out that it was used to save the Tower so spectacularly.

 

Moments strung together, stretching out to infinity in Lanfir's heightened state of super-reality. It was as if it took hours to complete her weave yet it didn't. It was mere heartbeats, incredible as it might sound. She felt Lyanna's amazement at the deft weaving and the sheer power that was filling them both, felt pride at doing something incredibly right, tension at the pressure of the moment. This HAD to work or they would surely all be doomed...

 

And that was the moment that Syl burst into the cellar through one of the unobstructed doors that was still functioning. Alec's mentee, her eyes glittering with desperation and rage. Lanfir's bond flared up with courage and determination and hate equally. She looked up in shock -this is not supposed to happen- as Sylandia screamed out defiance and lunged at the Dreadlord without any regard for her own safety. A mere girl, trained in weapons... attacking a Dreadlord.

 

In that one time-stopping instant, Lanfir knew that this would go horribly, utterly wrong. And with the Balefire weave taking up all of her abilities and concentration, there was no way she could protect her warder from Caladesh' madness. "SYL!" she screamed, willing this to be untrue.

 

Lightning glittered, and then the bond that connected her to Sylandia Kaiserian... snapped.

 

Like Alec's had, months ago. It was so bloody familiar, so bloody inevitable. The pain, the ripping sensation that robbed her of that tiny knot of feelings, of belonging and connection... it was happening all over again. Fortunately Lyanna was still with her in the link, sharing in her shock and her pain; that was a relief and a comfort through the haze of loss and pain.

 

Tears streaming over her face, she fought to keep control over her weave as she was shaken to the core of her being. And she did. She kept control.

 

By the Light, she was holding on and weaving.

 

For Syl. For Alec. For Lyanna. For her fallen sisters and the honour for the Tower. She dropped the shield that protected herself and Lyanna, but she held onto the Balefire weave. If it would unravel, it would surely kill them all. Lanfir couldn't bear to lose anyone anymore. Not now, not ever. If anyone else would fall, she would surely lose her sanity.

 

So she held on, and weaved...

 

~Lanfir

Rest in peace, dear Syl... :cry:

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Midway through her charge invisible ropes bound her from out of nowhere, stretching her arms until they pulled free from their sockets. Agony blossomed. Sylandia watched her saber skitter uselessly to one side and, strangely, felt no fear. This was where she was meant to be: directly between Lanfir and death. No man or beast would harm her bondmate while she yet lived.

 

"This wasn't meant for you, but I can always make more," the madman said in a whisper.

 

Ah, but that's where you're wrong.

 

Syl smiled at him. A brilliant, young girl's smile, innocent and carefree.

 

This is exactly what's meant for me.

 

And then the air around her turned white, her hair rippling with the charge, and there was heat and light and color, so much color in the world as she never could have dreamed. And there was Lanfir. Always Lanfir. Syl reached out through the bond to touch her one last time.

 

She could see the room from where she lay on the floor for one brief moment, and noticed with mild surprise that her hands were unscarred. There they were, lying limp and lifeless by her head, but the familiar etched pattern of white lines was gone. Alec? There was no response, but Syl felt deep in her bones that her former mentor was close by.

 

She passed with a faint smile on her lips. To her, it was as though she and Lanfir were holding hands and she needed but to let go a moment. They would find each other again soon.

 

It would be soon.

 

 

 

OOC- Oh Syl, we hardly knew ye. :(

 

 

Sylandia Kaiserian

Bonded to Lanfir

Always

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The second Syl ran into the room, throwing herself between Lanfir and Caladesh, Lyanna knew the slender girl could not be saved. Terror and horror washed through the link towards her, as Lanfir realized it too with a sharp "SYL!"

 

But Lyanna never could have braced herself enough for what came through the link next. In a way, linking was like temporarily bonding, and Lyanna had been aware of the living breathing thinking entity next to her that was Lanfir. The second Caladesh crushed Syl with Lightning, she could feel the girl dying through Lanfir's connection with her. Even worse, she could feel Lanfir feel the girl dying.

 

It was all Lyanna could do to hold on to the Source, but the horrific tidalwave of emotions that emanated through her brought her to her knees, almost gagging, and certainly whimpering. The tears sprang to her eyes, and through it all, the everlasting admiration for Lanfir was still there, because even in the midst of this spiritual turmoil, Lanfir had still managed to hold on to the weave she was weaving. The glittering strand of threads still hung suspended in the air, not quite finished yet, but on its way to completion.

 

Oh Syl, Syl ... oh no ...

 

It almost seemed like Mikalen dying all over again. And Alec. Lyanna had spent night after night after night, holding Lanfir as she sobbed, thinking back on how it was when her own Warder had died and there was no one to comfort her. Lyanna suddenly could do nothing else but think of Rosheen. Where was she? Was she alright? They were not bonded yet, but their friendship bond had gotten so close that at times it felt like they already were.

 

Light Rosheen, please stay away - please. I don't want you to get hurt, not now, not before we havent' even gotten a chance yet to explore what the wonders of a bond between the two of us might bring. You shouldn't have to die before your time, like this girl just did ...

 

Lanfir's strength of will was staggering. They faced Caladesh again, Lyanna on her knees, Lanfir still standing, and it was as if time froze. Syl might have bought them some time by her diversion - and how cruelly it had ended - and Lanfir might be just in time to snuff the man out of existence before he could lift another finger. But he undoubtedly was already weaving something just as menacing.

 

And right before Lanfir could finish her final strands, a little voice in the back of Lyanna's head predicted that they would never get that far.

 

They had dropped the shield.

 

------------------

OOC: big big hugs to Syl (Kat). It was a privilege :(

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In one moment

In one second

Watch it all burn

You and I

Will stand as one

You and I will be transformed

~Killswitch Engage, "World Ablaze"

 

 

In that one horrifying moment, time stopped.

 

She was clinging onto her weave and laying the last hand to it; Spirit and Fire to strengthen the weave just before she would tie it off and the weave would become the liquid fire she'd read and been warned about that would blast Caladesh into oblivion as though he had never existed. He deserved it; he deserved it so thoroughly. He had taken Syl from her, one of the purest souls she'd ever known. He had devastated the Tower and he would kill them without a second thought. He deserved to die by her hand, by her and Lyanna both.

 

It had been all of five seconds since she'd started weaving yet it seemed like an eternity. Tears were streaming down Lanfir's face as she wove that Fire and Spirit and Earth, another thread around her weave for strength. Her weave would be brilliant, her blast would be all consuming. She would make that shot count, for Syl, for Lyanna, for the Tower.

 

If he would let her.

 

He had created that lightning so quickly, as if he'd been weaving already anyway... and that fire that was playing around his fingers as he looked up from the sweet young woman that had been bonded to Lanfir... sweet, young Syl... whose lack of presence was hurting so bloody much... oh, the look in his eyes...

 

Such mad glee. Such utter, horrible, repulsive glee. He didn't even look human anymore. The man standing before them with fire around his fingers was not a man anymore. He was consumed by madness. The taint had melted away his sanity as if it had never been there in the first place.

 

He's going to weave.

 

One moment, one realization, and time stopped.

 

The weave left his fingers.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Caladesh looked at the Aes Sedai. He felt good now that that woman was dead. Felt very good. Perhaps killing these Aes Sedai would make he feel even better. Something niggled at the edge of his mind. Something wrong.

 

Perhaps they are the cause of this feeling, maybe I should kill them too. He could feel his glee dance and twirl around the Void. He almost felt like he should dance to it. Suddenly Anger filled the void and he felt himself being pushed away.

 

Caladesh took a firm grip of himself. Anger cleansed him as it always had. The Taint had shattered his mind. And worse he knew it had. Already he had to fight multiple personas for control of himself. I will control myself. I will destroy these Aes Sedai and find a way to remove the taint.

 

As if time had stopped he could see the body of the woman... no child he had just killed, and felt that this was a sign. There was something wrong here. His body moving slowly he wove.

 

Silky threads surrounded him, moving amazingly fast. Brilliant Red threads of Fire mixed with Sky Blue threads of Air. Dark Blue threads of Water intertwined with the Brown threads of Earth. And all through the weave Icy White Spirit connected it.

 

The Weave grew complicated, and all of the threads grew in size as he channeled every part of his strength into it. Saidin raged with anger, and Caladesh felt the void slipping as his face became a expression of pure rage and hatred.

 

They will all die and I will be the one to end it. The Taint will not have me! With the weave looking like the threads would burst if anymore power was channelled into it, he connected it all and released the weave.

 

Lightning exploded into existance, almost out of control. Wider than Caladesh's shoulders it flew from his hands. Arches of Lightning were thrown everywhere, coming off of the stream, exploding on crates and the walls.

 

The stream of Lightning seemed to slow down just before hitting the Aes Sedai, and Caladesh could see every detail. The stream was thicker than the Aes Sedai, and as it moved onward, it impacted with her stomach.

 

In perfect detail Caladesh saw the Aes Sedai's clothing catch fire as it flowed though her, ripping her in two like paper. Both halves flew backwards and impacted with the wall, the lightning following it.

 

Caladesh was unable to move, the Lightning still flowing from him. The utter violence and power of that one weave devestated him. That he had come from a assistant shop keeper to his disgusted him. Perhaps the taint has had more effect than he had thought.

 

Caladesh

OOC: hope that isnt too bad and atleast worth waiting for.

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This is my waking hour,

This is my place,

I can feel it.

I feel the power in my heart,

And it's my moment,

It is right there,

Staring me in the face ...

Waking Hour - The Gathering

 

If someone had been able to question her later, Lyanna would have said that the mere seconds that lasted between the moment the lightning left Caladesh' fingers and the moment it struck her, lasted ages. Time seemed to double upon itself, triple again, quadruple, until it became a dense pocket in which anything could happen, anything could be done. It is said that is how it is, dying, and Lyanna would have confirmed it if she could have.

 

She had time to grab Lanfir's hand from her half-crouched position on the floor, sending her all her love and admiration and also her sadness, for this was the time that their long-last friendship would truly come to an end. There were no doubts in her mind that this was the moment. The protective weave that had encompassed both of them only mere seconds ago was gone. But then again, only mere seconds ago Syl was still alive as well. And that was what frightened Lyanna the most. Not the idea of dying, and the knowledge that the moment was imminent, but what it would do to Lanfir. Lanfir, who'd suffered so much in her life, especially abandonment. Souvan, Alec, Syl, and now she - it was not fair on her friend. If not for Lanfir, Lyanna would have held her head high and taken the moment as it came. Like a Battle Sister, with hair streaming on the field, with her weapon held high, secure in the knowledge that she had died fighting Shadowspawn, making the world at least a little Lighter with every step she took.

 

In the final moments of your life, you get thrown back to the basics. And for Lyanna, it wasn't being human, it wasn't being a woman, and it certainly wasn't being born of a noble house. It was all about being Aes Sedai, and a Green one at that. It was as the Aiel said: "Till shade is gone, till water is gone, into the Shadow with teeth bared, screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Sightblinder's Eye on the Last Day." She was positive Lanfir would see it that way as well, but stil her heart bled for her friend.

 

Her life seemed to stream by her in mere seconds. Images of her sister Lilliana, while she was still young, and innocent. Her parents, her brother who'd died of a weakening illness so so long ago. Visions of her first years here in the Tower - mischief with Taya Gille in the secret society they'd created, the Gruesome Girls Guild - being forced by Matalina to muck out stalls in punishment for sneaking out to the Warders Yards. Dancing with Laverata on Alin's bonding, trips to the MoN for something or other, Fal Dara with all it's horror and pain. Lanfir on top of the walls, watching the bloodsnow down below and the dawn gray above them. Searching for Souvan and their fight at the inn where Lyanna went back to the Tower and Lanfir moved on ... years of study, of Sittership, of bonding Mikalen, of Mikalen's death and her desperation afterwards. Drunken nights in towns she didn't know and suddenly Lanfir again, the beacon in her life, who pulled her out of her misery and back into her old self. Namandar - oh - how could she ever forget? Karana's treason and Lanfir's ascension to Amyrlin, and the raising to Keeper. Confrontations with Nastasia, meeting Rosheen and pouring all of her bitterness into words that day in the inn, the sense of having found another soulmate next to Lanfir, smashing the glass jar on Ja'varan's - no Serashada's - head, Alec's death .. the images started to crowd eachother out and in the center there was still one thing - the image of the circle in Fal Dara, where Gytta had died because the weave unravelled.

 

Her eyes fell on the weave Lanfir still held, and Lyanna sensed the tremendous amount of Power they both held. "No! Lanfir! Let go!"

 

But it was too late. She felt the enormous impact of Caladesh's weave hit her, felt her dress catch flame, felt her body give way to the sheer force of it all. Her hand was ripped out of Lanfir's and oddly enough, after that, there was no pain. Just a sense of loss, a sense of abandonment. But that quickly was replaced by a feeling of relief, rejuvenation, of detachment. She had done all she could, and it was enough. With a straight back, and her hair streaming, with her weapon held high, Lyanna al'Ellisande Sedai started walking towards the Light.

 

 

--------

OOC

Boy, this was hard.

Ladies and gents, everyone who I played with as Lyanna, it has been a priviledge

Thank you for all the opportunities I had, IC as wel as OOC, with this character

*sniffles*

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I mourn for those who never knew you

It won't be long, we'll meet again

Your memory is never passing

It won't be long, we'll meet again

My love for you is everlasting...

~Killswitch Engage, "Rose of Sharyn"

 

 

It ended in fire. In a horrid way that even made sense to Lanfir, although later she would be unable to explain why exactly.

 

By that time, it was too late to do anything but register what was happening.

 

In the moment itself there was just this realization, this crystal clear moment of utter horror before the world shattered. Lyanna's hand had found Lannie's, their fingers twining together passionately for just one heartbeat before the electric lightning left their adversary's fingers.

 

At least we face him together, was one, half-formed thought - and then the lightning left his fingers and Lanfir realized that there was no shield of Air and Spirit to protect them anymore. There was lightning coming their way and she had no way of protecting them without dropping her current weave, nearly completed but not ready to let go yet... she needed two more seconds. Two more. Too many.

 

The cellar lit up brightly with the blue-white electric fire that sprang to life again around Caladesh' fingers.

 

"No! Lanfir! Let go!" Lyanna shouted, warning her of imminent danger... but Lanfir couldn't let go of saidar. Not with what was at stake, not with that nearly-formed weave hanging suspended in the air before them. If she would let go, the weave would unravel and- and- she remembered Gytta, she remembered destruction, she remembered it all so clearly that in this last moment, she couldn't let go. Not while there was a chance they might still live, that they might still beat this monster made flesh. Two more SECONDS...

 

The world drowned in blue-white light and heat.

 

The impact slammed Lyanna's hand out of hers and a terrible sense of loss hit her before anything else could. In that one terrible moment, in that moment the world ended, in that same exact moment that she had to let go of her love's hand, she could feel Lyanna die and the circle that they had formed was broken violently. She felt Lyanna's brutal death for only a split second before the link that bound them dissolved, but it was enough. More than enough.

 

The world ended in fire; she got her own brunt of the lightning directed at her and she felt the fire engulf her as much as Lyanna, burning her hair and her clothes, her skin... she did not even have time to scream out with the pain of it. No time to scream, because one process led to another in the worst sort of chain-reaction possible.

 

With the loss of the link, the loss of Lyanna's sweet presence and her fire-wielding abilities, Lanfir was suddenly holding more power than she could normally bear. But most of all, she was holding too much Fire.

 

It ended in fire, twice over. It was a complete sensory overload; the feeling of saidar, SO overpowering, thundering over her senses and through her veins... and then there was Fire, more than she could bear, more than she could wield, burning, burning, scorching until it was all gone and there was nothing left of the sweetness, nothing left of saidar, nothing left of her.

 

Lyanna was ripped away from her so violently; out of her grasp and out of her life while the world drowned in electricity, light and fire. She was set alight and then the link broke and she was burning on the inside as well. She might have screamed, if she would have had the air to scream. She might have wept and shouted, if she could have. As it was, she could only register how something that should have been Lyanna smacked against a wall, lifeless and smoking.... how her own skin and her hair burnt... and then, how the One Power inside of her burnt her out.

 

So this is what it feels like, she realized, and suddenly her vision toppled over as her body collided with the floor in a crumpled heap. She could not control it anymore. All she was right now was pain and fire and loss trapped inside a human shell.

 

The last thing she saw was the weave of energy and fire take shape in the air before her and how it rippled and distorted reality, flashing red and yellow and white. Her weave was unravelling after all, and strands of Spirit and Fire cut through the air with a force that would have incinerated her on the spot had she still been standing there. Instead, it struck out at the only other human still standing in the cellar. Caladesh.

 

Lanfir passed out with the sound of Caladesh's screams echoing in her ears. It should have pleased her. As it was, it all drowned out in pain and grief.

 

Unconsciousness came like a blessing.

 

 

 

OOC: My heart is breaking. :cry:

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