Dancing Among Golden Leopards (attn. Carys Sedai)

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Carys noticed that Lugard held a much different air about it than Caemlyn. Where as the capital of Andor felt majestic and proud, the capital of Murandy felt ...disinterested and undignified. Perhaps it was because of the less than firm hand that the King used on the country, or maybe it was due to the swarm of merchants that always occupied the city. Regardless of the politics, Lugard was always a place where trade flourished. The Yellow recalled many correspondences being sent from the Murandian capital; it was a good place for furtive exchanges to happen and an excellent place to have a ton of Eyes and Ears.

 

The city was not separated like that of Caemlyn, either. Rather it all seemed almost smashed together haphazardly. The buildings were all the same gray stone, but Carys recognized Andoran and Altaran style architecture along with two others that she couldn't place. The roof tiles, the only color provided by the buildings, were random assortments of blues, greens, purples, and reds. Betimes no tile on a roof was the same color. It was difficult to discen, however, as a thick layer of dust coated everything. It dulled the hues, almost negating them. The Yellow felt as if she stood out like a sore thumb in her lavender riding dress. She pulled her cloak further around her as they walked – almost pushed – their way through the streets.

 

The Aes Sedai had long since donned the serene face that was brainwashed into every woman that made it to the ring, let alone the shawl. It was almost like taking a step back inside of herself. Next to her, on his stallion, Elessar presented a noncommittal stoic face to the people in the Lugard streets. His dark cloak – the color shifting Warder cloak packed away – hung limp in the stagnant air as their horses picked their way through the streets. Rather than moving out of the way, people merely glared up at them and moved just enough to the side.

 

 

Glancing around, it was clear that they had their pick of places to stay. Lugard had more inns than it did anything else. Both sides of the street were occupied with buildings – every other one proclaiming it was this inn or that inn. The Yellow found it curious how even a city as heavy in trade as Lugard could support so many inns. Is there ever a time where all the rooms are taken? Carys pondered for a moment before a noise in the street pulled her attention. Her blue eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the source. It didn't take her long to find it. A group of men, and one tough looking woman, had begun to throw punches up ahead and to the left. The Aes Sedai drew in a breath and looked over at Elessar, trying to see if they should intervene. He nodded a quick 'no' and then pointed toward an Inn up ahead three doors. Apparently it was one he recognized. She nodded and pointed the mare in that direction, though her eyes kept darting to the steadily growing group of fighters.

 

Eventually the pair made it to the Inn, a stableboy appearing immediately to take their horses. The Innkeeper, a chubby woman with black ringlets surrounding a pretty face, smiled at the two of them and ushered them in quickly. Her smile did not diminish as Carys lowered her hood to display the ageless face of an Aes Sedai – rather it deepened. She would be happy to provide room and board for an Aes Sedai and her Warder, the woman explained, in fact, her best rooms had just become available. Snapping her fingers, the Innkeeper instructed another young boy to get them some food and wine while she readied the rooms.

 

The Common Room was empty, save for staff. Carys inquired about the lack of customers, but the young boy serving her food merely assured her that it was the time of day. She pursed her lips and stared at the door, curious if the mass in the streets was part of the cause. Elessar remained quiet next to her, though she caught him occasionally staring at the door. She quirked an eyebrow, asking silently again if they should enter the brawl, but again he shook her head no. She knit her eyebrows together at the answer, but stayed put. She'd put him in enough dangerous situations. It seemed like Lugard was a good city in which to listen to her Warder.

[Elessar]

Riding through the streets of Lugard, a thick layer of dust upon building and street alike, Elessar was reminded of its depressing and worn demeanour. Whether it was because its inhabitants - among them a swarm of merchants - always seemed to have their eyes on trade and little else, or because the King was ineffectual in his rule, or simply because the Lugarders just didn’t care how their city looked, the Warder didn’t know. But Lugard was not a pretty and welcoming sight. All buildings were the same gray stone, albeit with colourful roof tiles - though often smothered in dust -, and the streets, dirty and poorly kept, appeared haphazard in their layout, as if there had been no plan to the city. It was a great contrast to orderly, majestic Caemlyn.

 

The breeze that had been there earlier died as they made their way through the streets of Lugard. The air became stagnant and Elessar’s dark cloak - he had packed his Warder cloak away before entering the city for reasons of caution - hung limp as their horses picked their way through the centre of the city. Rather than moving out of the way, people merely glared up at them with an arrogant and hostile look and moved just enough to the side. Yes, Lugard was just as he remembered it: dusty, dirty and dangerous.

 

There was an abundance of inns in this city - Elessar could not recall having been to any place with more inns and taverns - and they passed a whole lot of them on the way, buildings occuping both sides of the street. Elessar kept them moving past, however, because he had one particular inn in mind for their stay. Before they got that far they came across a group of people fighting in the street. Elessar stopped as they neared the brawl and took stock of the situation. A bunch of men, and one tough looking woman, had begun to throw punches up ahead and to the left. Beside him, Carys on her gray mare had also halted. She drew in a breath and looked over at him, trying to see if they should intervene. Elessar saw her look and nodded a quick 'no'. They had little to gain from intervening and doing so would draw undue attention to themselves. Caution was needed in this city full of vipers of all sorts and this fight would just have to run its course. Instead Elessar pointed toward an inn up ahead three doors or so and Carys nodded, pointing her mare in that direction. The Warder kept an eye on the brawl as they headed toward the inn.

 

They arrived in front of the building and dismounted. A sign above the door said: “The Wanton’s Kiss”. Elessar nodded to himself, hiding a small grin. Most of Lugard’s inns had bawdy or licentious names, mirroring the mood and style - or rather lack thereof - of this city. He knew this inn, however. He had stayed here with his former Sedai some years past and its innkeeper had been very favourably disposed toward Aes Sedai and Tar Valon. A stableboy appeared quickly and took their horses to the stable at the back and when they entered the inn they were met by a friendly innkeeper, a chubby woman with black ringlets surrounding a pretty face, who ushered them in swiftly. Elessar was pretty sure it was the same innkeeper and the way her smile broadened when Carys lowered her hood to display her ageless face made him certain. The lady said she would be happy to provide room and board for her distinguished guests from Tar Valon, in fact her best rooms had just become available. Snapping her fingers, the innkeeper instructed another young boy to get them some food and wine while she readied the rooms.

 

The Common Room was empty, save for staff. They sat down and waited for the food and drink to be brought. Elessar spoke little, keeping an occasional eye on the front door in case any of the fighters outside decided to pay a visit. He noted his Sedai’s look at one point, her eyebrow quirking as if silently enquiring again whether they should intervene in the brawl, and he shook his head 'no'. They could not afford to take any chances in a place like this. Lugard was dangerous enough as it was.

 

►▼◄

 

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Elessar was up early, going through some sword-forms and exercises. After he washed himself and got clothed he met up with Carys in the Common Room for breakfast. They ate a nice morning meal, chatting amiably, and afterwards headed out into the streets to see some of Lugard’s sights.

 

♦

 

The evening before, after they had gotten their rooms from a still smiling innkeeper, they had retired to relax and freshen up a bit before meeting downstairs in the Common Room for a drink and some stage entertainment. They had talked for a while and had agreed that though the Murandian Capital was far from the beauty of Caemlyn or Tar Valon it still had some sights worth seeing and that they would take a tour of the city the following day. When the gleeman - a dark-haired man of about middle age with a round face and a beard, wearing a cloak of many colourful patches - came upon the stage in the Common Room all attention had switched to him. He had started by playing the flute, but after a while had put it away and had begun his storytelling. After a couple of heroic stories from times gone by, which had not seemed to make a great impression on this crowd, he had concluded by making an elaborate bow amid some cautious cheers.

 

A loud cry had then gone up at the bar. “Giv’ us a song!” “Yeah, you know which one!” “Yeaah!” “A song!” Lewd comments had followed, making no doubt as to what kind of song they wanted to hear. Always guaranteed to get a bawdy song around these parts, Elessar had thought with some amusement. The gleeman had taken the hint from the crowd and had bowed theatrically again before beginning on a typically bawdy tune that appeared familiar to many of the locals. The woman’s part he had sung in a wicked woman’s voice, and the Lugarder crowd in the Common Room had cheered him on enthusiastically.

 

 

►▼◄

 

 

The lass on my lap

 

There once was this man from Tear

Who nibbled so much on my Ear

That I slapped him, and Said

“No way, Mister! - I’m Wed”

“You’ll find no benevolence Here.”

 

But the man did not care for the Slap

He grabbed me right onto his Lap

“Now hear, little Wench!”

Said the man with a Wrench

“You’re my lass, so stop with that Crap!”

 

I gave him a kiss out of Spite

“Let me go!”, I said, ready to Bite

“Oh my lass, teach me Sin!”

Said the man with a Grin

“Of you I will many songs Write!”

 

 

►▼◄

 

 

Elessar wore two knives on his person; one hidden in the sleeve of his black coat, the other in his boot. Caution was prudent in this city and he would not be caught off guard. Walking past where the brawl had been the day before the Warder could not see any signs of the fight apart from some broken glass outside the building. He saw Carys gaze at the place as well though she said nothing. They walked on down the unpaved street, passing stalls and small shops and a multitude of merchants calling out their wares. There was an abundance of people of all sorts in the city streets; standing around, walking by, running past, screaming out - and watching. Many were Murandians, Lugarders for the most part, but there were also a fair lot of foreigners - including many Altarans. The locals eyed these foreigners with a mixture of hostility, suspicion and - in the case of the foreign traders - tempered acceptance. Elessar wondered how such a trade-fixated people could be so seemingly suspicious and intolerant of others.

 

Freight-wagons of every shape and size went past them, as they walked further into the city, leaving clouds of dust in their wake. Carys and Elessar also passed a large amount of stables and horse lots, on large bare patches of ground set aside for them within the Capital. This was also a distinctive feature of Lugard; Elessar had not seen its like anywhere else. The sun was high in the sky, golden rays showering them with Light, when they stopped at a tavern to have some lunch. The place was only half-full and the Warder and Sedai sat down at a table close to the entrance. A few other customers threw them some looks as they entered, but turned back to their own business when they received a no-nonsense look from Elessar. The Warder kept a vigilant gaze about them throughout their meal but no incident occured.

 

Afterwards they continued on their tour of the city. They saw old buildings and new, Murandian monuments and historical statues. They visited the banks of the river Storn, enjoying the view and the beauty of the running water, and walked along the (decaying) gray outer city walls. Though the city had, perhaps, somewhat less to offer a visitor when it came to splendour than many others, Carys and Elessar appreciated seeing the sights and in so doing learning some of Lugard’s - and Murandy’s - history. It was late afternoon, and clouds had gradually appeared in the sapphire-blue sky, when they decided to head back to the inn.

 

♦

 

From the Shadows of an alley on the opposite side of the street, a pair of of piercing brown eyes watched the tall man in the black coat and the woman beside him stroll down the lane. The eyes tightened in anticipation.

 

OOC: I thought it’d be fun to include another poem in our story at this point, so I wrote this funny little piece above in the somewhat bawdy-ish Murandian tradition.. enjoy! ;)

[keyholder21]

ooc: I love it; brilliant!

 

---

 

It was early morning when she awoke, sunlight streaming in through a gap in the heavy curtains. Rolling over onto her back, Carys rubbed sleep from her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Despite the rough appearance of the city and the tension in the streets, she had slept peacefully through the night. Probing at the bundle of emotions in her head that was Elessar, she was pleased to find him as equally well rested and content. Throwing the blankets back, the Aes Sedai stepped into the cooler air of the room and readied herself for the day.

 

She met her Warder in the Common Room and the pair ordered breakfast. They chatted comfortably, discussing the Inn, the sights of Lugard, and some other things. In the early morning, the Common Room was full of people, though all seemed quiet and most were bleary eyed. Merchants by the look of them, traveling through with their wares but had taken part in the bawdy singer of last night. Carys had heard the lyrics up in her room as she had embraced the Source to practice through a few weaves. There was something bothering her about the Healing weave. It had been nagging at her for months now, but she kept getting distracted. As dangerous as Lugard was, the Yellow figured she should take the time to practice it while she could.

 

A serving girl came around to collect their dishes and with a murmured thank you and an exchange of coin, the Aes Sedai and her Warder set off to see the sights of Lugard. Carys noticed that Elessar carried a little more tension in his shoulders than he had in Caemlyn as they stepped out into the streets. She tightened a shawl around her shoulders – not the ostentatious Yellow shawl that she had back at the Tower, this was a darker and more obscure one – and stepped up beside him. The capital of Andor had afforded her to walk leisurely; Lugard suggested she walk at a clipped pace and within arm's distance of Elessar.

 

Still, there were sights to see and this could potentially be the only time she was in Murandy. Looking around, Carys noticed broken glass on the road and followed the trail to a few busted store windows. That must be where the fight was yesterday, she mused to herself, noting that the window edges appeared to have marks suggesting they had been broken before. Stepping carefully, the pair left behind the remembrance of the fight to find what else Lugard had to offer. Surely danger and dust cannot be the only memories I will leave this city with.

 

The best part of the day, she decided later as they reentered the Inn, was the people watching. The Aes Sedai had felt more Brown than Yellow as she'd walked around the city noticing the plethora of accents , clothing and hairstyles. Some she could place and some she couldn't, but it was very interesting to see them all in one place. It could be argued, she supposed, that Tar Valon held just as many different kinds of people, but in the heart of the Aes Sedai's city, no one ever seemed to be enough themselves. Here it felt as if she were watching them in their normal habitat. Okay, Carys, now you really do sound like a Brown. Smiling sheepishly to herself, the Yellow made it a point to pay more attention to the buildings and less to the people. She glanced up at Elessar, but he was looking elsewhere. After Caemlyn, the Yellow felt as if Lugard were missing something.

 

On the far side of several horse lots, the Yellow and her Warder stopped for something to eat. It was an interesting feature of the city, the bare patches of ground with stables on either side, smack dab in the middle of taverns, inn, and merchant shops. Pointing to a tavern on the far side, Elessar led her to a table just inside the entrance. Carys settled into her chair, glancing around at the patrons as they gave the pair dirty looks. After living in the Tower, it was odd to find that not everyone cared for Aes Sedai. Despite having met several people along the way already, the idea was still something Carys was getting used to. She'd been Raised to respect the Healing Aes Sedai did, and then spent her life within the Shining Walls. There had been talk of how women who could channel were treated in certain parts of the world, but until now, she'd never had to dwell on it. Looking at the Gaidin, she felt more grateful than ever that he had stepped into that alley in Cairhein. Otherwise, she'd have been dead a few times over. And if by some miracle she'd survived this long, Lugard would not have left her alone for long.

 

The afternoon was more pleasant than the morning. After lunch, the pair had resumed their tour of the city. They perused old buildings and new, Murandian monuments and historical statues. They visited the banks of the river Storn, enjoying the view and the beauty of the running water, and walked along the (decaying) gray outer city walls. Though the city had, perhaps, somewhat less to offer a visitor when it came to splendour than many others, she and Elessar appreciated seeing the sights and in so doing learning some of Lugard’s - and Murandy’s - history. They had also learned that a menagerie had set up on the outskirts of town. It, too, had just left Andor and the rumor was that they had performed for the Queen herself. As she and Elessar walked back to the Inn, Carys considered the possibility that that had been why the Queen was busy while she and Elessar had toured the palace. She grinned a little at that, there's a kid in all of us.

 

Nothing of note happened in the evening, or in the next day. Having toured the majority of the city, and having plans to attend the menagerie in the evening, the Aes Sedai and her Warder chose to stay at the Inn for the day. Carys curled up with her notebook in a corner of the Common Room – close to the fire. Her blue eyes flickered from the pages to the Room, observing the people and idly listening to their chatter. This time she wasn't paying attention to how they were saying things, but rather what they were saying. It appeared that crime had increased to nearly double in the past month. Biting her lip, she considered this tidbit of information as she fixed a drawing.

 

The evening came, however, and she tucked away that bit to bring up to the Warder another time. Almost giddy with excitement, Carys bounded up the stairs to her room and changed for the menagerie. She donned a blue dress that matched her eyes perfectly, golden scrollwork along the edges and sweeping across the bosom. She pinned back some of the golden strands atop her head, leaving the rest down to frame her face, and looked in the mirror briefly before she left. She had attended a menagerie once as a small girl, going with one of the Wise Women to aid a sick performer. The Wise Woman had dressed up her nicely, even applying a bow to her hair. That need to dress up had apparently stuck in her subconscious.

 

The menagerie was easy to find. A crowd of people were in the streets, already, heading toward the lights and sounds. She and Elessar stepped onto the cobblestone path and merged with the group, him careful to buffer her. She smiled up at him briefly before turning her attention, and growing excitement, back to the menagerie. Small children were crying out and pointing toward the tents, which made Carys smile even more. She resisted the urge to clap her hands.

 

The show did not disappoint, nor did the staff. Recognizing her ageless face, the ushers had provided her and Elessar with excellent seats and service. Tar Valon coins clinked into quite a few hands as the performers, one by one, dazzled the Yellow along with the rest of the crowd. At one point, she looked over to see Elessar's reaction, but his face was hidden by the shadow of the lights. Probing the bundle of emotions in her head, she found him...content and that was good enough for her. Clapping her hands at the end of the act, she laughed along with the crowd as a monkey came out on a tricycle and proceeded to extend his hat for coins – or anything else one may have wanted to throw in.

 

The lions had been her favorite part, and it appeared it had been for many others as well, based on the applause and the stunned silence that the act had garnered. Depending on what the tamer was doing, she'd received either one or both. Carys had been on the edge of her seat once, sliding back sheepishly as she realized it. Though lions were dangerous, it was obvious that the girl knew them well and spent a lot of time around them. The big cats watched her every move, but their movements seemed to be in sync with hers.

 

The lions had been the final act. The Yellow through her hands together for firm applause, joining the rest of the crowd. As the ringmaster backed out of the circle, the clapping began to die down, and eventually stop, as the people made their way toward the front of the tent. She and Elessar waited patiently, finally stepping out into the cool night air moments later. Shivering slightly in the cool air, Carys wrapped a dark shawl around her shoulders and turned to look at her Warder. “Well,” she asked, “what did you think?” Her eyes twinkled in the light of lit torches, still dancing from the show.

[Elessar]

.. There is Danger in Shadows ..

♦

The deadly knife whistled through the air, making a wooshing sound that slithered through the near-darkness, embedding itself with an emphatic thud in the building within a hairsbreadth of Elessar’s upper arm.

 

It had been instinct, perhaps, that had made him cry out a warning to his Sedai just in time - and Carys had thrown herself to the side and out of danger’s path. Instinct, or perhaps a feeling of imminent danger, an added sense which Warders often seemed to possess.

 

Throwing himself to the ground, he checked on Carys - she lay a little off to his left, partially stunned but seemingly uninjured - before raising his head to look across the alley from where the knife had been thrown. It was hard to see anything in his black surroundings but his bonded-enhanced vision gave him a little edge. Just then, as he was considering their options, a second knife flew through the air and barely missed the Warder. Retrieving it carefully from the wall beside him, touching only the handle, close up Elessar could see the black poison on the blade. Cursing inside, Elessar threw it away. It was hard not to see the similarities to the attack in Cairhien. It’s bloody well happening all over again! Staring hard into the dark, Elessar suddenly thought he saw movement on the other side of the alley. It was as if there was a.. Shadow among the Shadows..

 

Turning quickly to check on his Sedai again - she had found her feet and now met his eyes, her look focused and determined; he guessed she was holding the One Power, in readiness -, he already regretted having taking the short-cut back toward the inn. This path normally would have saved them some time but had them go through dark alleys with few people about. A perfect place for an ambush, he now thought darkly. Removing one of his own knives - a well balanced piece that would function well as a throwing-knife - from his coat, he waited a few seconds, took careful aim, and then threw it hard toward the place he thought he had sensed some movement.

 

Either his aim was very good or he was lucky, or perhaps it was a bit of both, because he heard a man curse loudly in pain in the darkness as the knife hit its target. It was followed by the sounds of someone hurriedly scrambling away from the alley, uncaringly knocking down anything in his path, heading past the buildings and down the adjacent street. Elessar considered following the man - they needed answers he could provide - but in the end decided not to. He did not know these back alleys that well. Also, there could be more of these assassins about. It was more important to get his bondholder to safety. That was his first priority. He walked over to Carys Aes Sedai. “He is gone, but there could be more than one”, he whispered as he stared vigilantly around. “We should get moving. It seems our darkfriend enemies are still after us.” He saw his Sedai nod in agreement. Elessar had the second knife he carried close at hand as they started walking, Carys right behind him. His eyes swept over street and buildings alike, looking for danger, as they left the dark alley and headed over to one of the main streets. From there they managed to get back to the inn without any more incidents.

 

 

►▼◄

 

The man with the scar cursed as he half limped, half ran along the dark alley, turning at intervals to check if he was being followed. The pain from his leg coursed through his body and it took a strong effort of will to avoid screaming out in agony. The knife protruding from his lower leg had to be removed but that was a job for a healer man. Main thing was to get to the safe-house; he would get help there. At least the knife had not been poisoned; had it been, he would have been dead by now. Cursing again, the man’s piercing brown eyes stared fixedly ahead. He turned a corner, looking into the distance for the building he sought. His faltering steps made a clicking sound on the cobblestone path. Finally he saw it. Hurrying past a couple of men who looked strangely at him, with great suspicion, he dashed inside the building and up a short flight of stairs. Stopping before a nondescript door he banged on the door with both fists, breathing hard, sweat pouring down his face, pain making him grimace. He clenched his fists as he waited for someone to open the door. There was movement from within, then a cold voice called out: “Who is there?” The man with the scar cursed again. “It’s me. Open the door! I am hurt.” There was a moment’s pause, then the door opened slightly and a pair of dark eyes looked out. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, the man - a middle aged Murandian by the look of him - opened the door wide and helped the injured man inside. The door shut closed behind them.

 

It was a good while later, after a healer man had come and had removed the knife, cleaned the wound and bandaged the lower leg, that the man with the scar was able to think through what had happened. The short thruth of it was: he had bungled the job. His masters would not be pleased. Thinking back on the pain - the hideous unending pain! - from that night not so long ago made him shiver.

 

Before that night, he had for a time considered breaking his oath. He had simply been tired of it all; tired of his work, tired of all the death he spread, wanting only to have it done with. But then he had been warned, first with the note slipped unsuspectedly into his coat pocket, and then - more firmly - with the torture.. His body almost shook again. After that all doubt in his mind had been removed - or repressed. He realized he had been a fool to think he could get away with breaking his oath to the Great Lord. He would carry out his assignment as he had vowed.

 

But he had failed.

 

The Warder and his accursed Aes Sedai woman were still alive, his knives had missed their target from what he had seen - and heard - in the near-darkness, and to make matters worse he was the one who had gotten injured. Angry at himself for his failure, and for getting himself injured, the man’s eyes tightened. Had the Gaidin not somehow seen the danger coming, screaming out his warning just in the nick of time, the knife would have hit the woman in the chest, of that he was sure. The Warder himself had been lucky to have escaped with his life. He had run straight into the knife’s path.

 

Running a nervous hand through his long hair, he shifted his eyes to the cloaked figure, with a heavy cowl hiding the face, standing still in the corner of the room. That figure had been silent ever since it had arrived. The man with the scar almost wished it would stay silent forever. His wish was not to be. The cloaked figure beckoned him forwards and he stood up from where he lay, gritting his teeth against the slight pain in his leg. Facing the cloaked figure he lowered his eyes in deference. A cold whisper came out of the black hood.

 

“We do not tolerate failure”.

 

Pain erupted in the scarred man’s head and he cried out in agony. He fell onto his back and tears of pain streamed down his cheeks. His arms shook and his screams became ever louder. After a few moments - or an eternity -, he could not tell which, the pain lessened somewhat. He tried to stop his arms and legs from shaking but was only partially successful. He registered the voice in his mind. He could not say if the words were spoken aloud or not.

 

“You will have one final chance. This is what you will do.”

 

He listened carefully to his instructions, taking note of every detail in his mind, but soon he was awash once again in oceans of pain.

 

 

►▼◄

 

Back at The Wanton’s Kiss inn, Elessar settled in his room after making sure - twice - that Carys’ room was safe. He had checked the corridor and all the common rooms in the inn before going upstairs. They had spoken little on the way back - they would talk more in the morning - and only now could he relax and go through in his mind all that had happened in the last day or so.

 

♦

 

They had stayed a whole day at the inn, planning to go to a visiting menagerie in the evening. Elessar had spent most of the time in his room, sharpening his weapons or with his head deep in a couple of historical books telling the story of one of the former rulers of Murandy. Carys, meanwhile, had curled up with her notebook in a corner of the Common Room - close to the fire.

 

In the evening they had left for the menagerie. Elessar had felt excitement coming through the Bond from Carys and he had smiled inside. The Aes Sedai had worn a blue dress that had matched her eyes, golden scrollwork along the edges and sweeping across the bosom. She had pinned back some of the golden strands atop her head, leaving the rest down to frame her face. She had looked every bit an elegant lady, Elessar - wearing a dark shirt and trousers and his dark coat - had thought, and to him it had appeared that visiting the menagerie had been special to her. The menagerie had been easy to find. A crowd of people had been in the streets, already, heading toward the lights and sounds. Carys and Elessar had joined the crowd, and the Warder had cleared space for her. Small children had been crying out and pointing towards the tents in the near distance.

 

The show had not disappointed, nor had the staff. Recognizing her ageless face, the ushers had provided Carys and Elessar with excellent seats and service. Elessar had enjoyed the show, though he had felt through the Bond that Carys had been perhaps even more dazzled. Her enjoyment had been confirmed later on when he had found his bondholder clapping her hands at the end of the act, laughing along with the crowd as a monkey had come out on a tricycle and had proceeded to extend his hat for coins. Then had come the lions and this part of the show Elessar had enjoyed the most. Glancing across at Carys, he had seen the great enjoyment in her non-serene Aes Sedai face and it had pleased him. After the final act Warder and Sedai had thrown their hands together for firm applause, joining the rest of the crowd. Carys and Elessar had waited patiently as the crowd had made their way out of the tent, finally stepping out into the cool night air. Once there, the Aes Sedai had wrapped a dark shawl around her shoulders and had turned to look at her Gaidin. Her eyes had twinkled in the light of lit torches, still dancing from the mesmerizing show, as she had asked him what he thought of the performance. He had replied with a small grin, saying that it was one of the better ones of its kind he had seen in quite a while. When he had added that he had been especially impressed by the talented young female lion tamer, Carys had nodded her head with a glint in her eye.

 

They had followed the crowd into the city centre, before choosing the short-cut through some alleys and side-streets that parallelled the main route toward their inn. In a dark alley, closed in by tall dark wooden buildings and a couple of smaller pathways, the near fatal attack - the assassination attempt - had taken place.

 

♦

 

And here we are, thought the Warder uneasily. Alive - but hunted once again. He felt through the Bond that Carys was in the next room - he could pin-point her behind the wall separating the rooms - and she seemed calm to him and safe. Berating himself for taking the short-cut, he stared through the window into the darkness outside. There is Danger in Shadows, he thought, as he stared at the half-visible contours of neighbouring buildings. He sighed. I made a mistake. He knew that had they chosen an other - safer - route back to the inn they still might have been attacked. There were never any guarantees. Even so, he felt some guilt and had to push down the repressed - but never quite eliminated - reproachful voice in the back of his mind. One thing was for certain though: somebody out there was very eager to kill them.

 

His thoughts went back to Cairhien and to the dark alley where he had come upon Carys and where they had, in turn, saved each other’s lives. It seemed a lifetime ago. Standing with his hands on the window sill he considered how much he - and she - had changed since that first meeting.

 

It was some time later, as stars sparkled in a black night-sky, that a whisper broke through the musings of his mind, like an echo lingering on the winds.. Words formed slowly on his lips. The Shadow never sleeps. The words remained in his mind, like beacons of warning, as Elessar Telcontar gradually fell into a deep slumber.

[keyholder21]

It is never ending. Was the thought that echoed through Carys's head as Elessar cried out for her to move. She threw herself to the ground in an instant, her body rushing to follow his command before her head could confuse it. A knife slashed through the air, the deadly blade cutting right where her stomach had been just a heartbeat before. She stared up, trying to find the assailant, blue eyes wide and questioning, but they came up with empty air. Snapping her head to the right, she found Elessar laying on the ground a bit away. He looked at her quickly, assessing the situation and then glanced toward the inky blackness at the back of the alley. She shifted to get a hand underneath herself, when the sound of another knife sliced through the darkness and embedded into the wall right next to the Warder. Biting her tongue, the Aes Sedai tasted blood as she stopped herself from crying out. Distraction was the last thing that he needed at the moment.

 

She embraced the Source as she stood, Saidar flooding into her in a rush. The darkness became slightly less black and she squinted, attempting to find who was attacking them, but to no avail. The air seemed solid, as if it were a Power wrought darkness rather than natural. Annoyed, the Yellow wove a forbidden weave and readied to send it forward should she need to save her or her Warder. The air seemed to hum with the decisions made in that brief moment. Eyes connecting with the Gaidin's, she gave a brief nod, imperceptible to someone not next to her. The Warder drew a knife from his coat and flung it into the darkness. Carys held her breath and the weave ready.

 

The Warder's aim struck true as they both heard a man curse loudly in pain, noise resonating from the darkness as, presumably, the knife hit its target. It was followed by the sounds of someone hurriedly scrambling away from the alley, in a heady rush, knocking down anything in his path. With her Power enhanced hearing, the Aes Sedai heard the footsteps continue past the buildings and down the adjacent street. She saw Elessar start to move forward and then stop himself and she let out the breath. Air flooded back into her and she scrubbed a hand over her face, glad the danger was gone for now. The Gaidin walked over to her and whispered that they should move as there could be more than one. She nodded in agreement, heart still hammering in her chest and held Saidar tightly, the sweet feeling growing sharp as she held as much as she could.

 

The streets offered no more dangers, however, with the two of them making it back to the Inn unscathed and without further events. The night could offer a different story, however, as the Yellow vividly recalled the midnight attack they had received when on the way to the Cairhein farmhouse. Steeling herself, Carys set a series of Wards on their rooms, culminating in a few that would end violently should someone disturb them for more than a moment. Sitting, she took off her shoes and stockings before moving to the center of the bed. Tucking her feet under her, she reflected on the attack. This time there hadn't even been a reason! Though it did have a purpose, and an effect, albeit one different than intended. It did serve to remind the woman that she was Aes Sedai, not a child out on a jaunt about the world. Danger lurked everywhere, and that was tenfold for Aes Sedai. Hence having a protector around the clock. She could not disregard that line of knowledge because she wished it to change. That was foolish and like to get her killed.

 

At the thought of her protector, Carys turned her attention to the bundle of emotions in her head that was Elessar. The Gaidin was safe and undeniably whole, but he still seemed anxious, and she felt a small piece of the guilt that had ruled his thoughts when they'd first invaded her head. She clicked her tongue, irritated at the events that had resurfaced that. She believed he had begun to heal from past memories. Never forgetting, but finally forgiving himself. If that had to happen by saving her from danger, then so be it. Tonight, however, had served to refresh those thoughts instead. A very somber reaction for both of them. Frowning, the Yellow pondered how to best heal both the Warder, and herself, after these events as she suspected they would occur many more times during their Bonded relationship. Though solemness had a place sometimes, it didn't always. In the long run, a more favorable reaction would be necessary.

 

Sighing, she finally slipped under the covers as the fire died down. From the bundle in her head, Carys figured that Elessar was asleep, restfulness finally sliding into contentment. She stared up at the ceiling, finally coming to dwell on returning “home.” It would be ...interesting to see the changes. She wondered if any of the Wise Women she knew still existed. She suspected a few were able to channel, as memories of their faces never changing floated through her mind, dredging up other memories from decades ago. Twisting onto her side, the Yellow scanned through memories of the city for another hour before finally closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

 

Morning came early, the sounds of steps outside in the hall worming their way into her dream. She woke to random voices discussing money, Lugard, the menagerie, and various other things as fellow travelers wandered down to the Common Room for food. Yawning, Carys stretched her arms over her head and slipped out of bed. The room was a comfortable temperature for morning, and she felt a smile stretch over her face despite the events of yesterday and the grave thoughts of the previous evening. She dressed quickly and ensured her saddlebags were ready before heading downstairs. Today was the day they set out for Ebou Dar.

 

Elessar joined her at a table a mere moment later, sitting down heavily across from her. She cocked an eyebrow, mouth full of porridge and returned to her notebook as he said nothing. It seemed food was necessary for the Warder to find his voice. As he ate the breakfast, his tongue loosened and he began to discuss Ebou Dar with her, relating some history to her. She nodded along as he did so, remembering several of the points from when a Wise Woman would prattle at her. They all liked to talk as they worked, which led to interesting discussions. It was an amiable setting and Carys was pleased with both herself and her Warder for that.

 

They set out after breakfast, paying the Innkeeper with Tar Valon silver and an assurance they would stay there again should they return to Lugard. "Let's hope we find less excitement in Ebou Dar," the Yellow said almost teasingly, as she stepped up into the saddle. The gray mare snorted, perhaps laughing in response and the pair of horses moved briskly toward the road south, Aes Sedai and Warder on their backs.

[Elessar]

₪₪₪

₪ ”Altara: On the Sea of Storms” ₪

-To Ebou Dar-

₪

 

It was early evening, as day was slowly turning into night, that Carys and Elessar passed the border into the southern nation of Altara.

 

Elessar remembered reading about the country in historical books. One such had said:

 

Altara, a nation founded during the War of the Hundred Years, unified by a founder named Maddin, faces the Sea of Storms, wedged between the more powerful nations of Illian and Amadicia, with northern borders touching Murandy, Andor and Ghealdan. It is unified in name only. Most of the inhabitants prefer to identify themselves as belonging to a particular town or as being subjects of a particular lord or lady, rather than a subject of the Queen og King of Altara. Even the nobles seem to care little for their nation, seldom paying taxes or offering more than lip service to the crown..

 

In many ways it sounded much the same as with Murandy, the nation they had left on their way southwards. What is it with these Southerners? the Warder thought to himself. In the Borderlands people were proud of their country and they stood behind their leaders, more often than not. It could in part be contributed, of course, to living on Shadow’s doorstep, but even so Elessar thought it also had something to do with.. heart. And honour. Then again, with his Kandori blood he was far from impartial on the subject matter.

 

♦

He had spoken with Carys about Altara - and its Capital Ebou Dar - over breakfast that morning. He had woken early and had gone through some simple sword-forms before washing and getting dressed. He had been somewhat lost in thoughts and solemn - after the previous day’s events and the guilt he had felt after the attack - as he had sat down by her table and had begun eating. Soon though his mood had brightened somewhat and his tongue had loosened as they had started talking about Altara and Ebou Dar. “They say”, he had started, “that the Throne of the Winds, the Seat of Power in Altara, located in the Tarasin Palace in Ebou Dar, is just slightly more than a prize to be taken by the most powerful noble.” Carys had nodded along as he had spoken, seemingly interested in his knowledge.

 

“They often add”, he had said, “that many powerful nobles have scorned to take it when given the opportunity. How much is rumour and how much is truth, is, of course, hard to say.” He had taken another mouthful of the delicious breakfast before continuing. “Perhaps every nation has its own version of the Game of Houses?” He had left the question open, then had added: “One thing most historians agree upon, however, is that in the thousand years since Hawkwing’s death only one House has held the throne for as much as five generations, and when they lost it their fall was so complete that the House became subservient to all others.”

 

 

.. Fighting for the Throne of the Winds ..

 

They had gone on to discuss Ebou Dar. Elessar, as always a passionate student of History, had provided some interesting history of the city. “Ebou Dar”, he had begun, “was originally built in the years following the Breaking as Barashta, the Capital of Eharon, one of the Ten Nations. Barashta was destroyed during the southern-most thrust of the Shadowspawn armies during the Trolloc Wars.” He had said. “It was subsequently rebuilt and expanded west of the river. The city became the Capital city of Shiota during the Free Years, and was later captured by the false Dragon Guaire Amalasan during the War of the Second Dragon. Artur Hawkwing took it in turn a few years later.”

 

He had seen interest in Carys’ eyes while he spoke, but it was impossible for him to know how much of this she already knew, with her background. He suspected she knew a fair bit. She listened attentively, nevertheless, and it was something Elessar appreciated. “Ebou Dar”, he had added, “survived the War of the Hundred Years, but the nation that came into existence around it, Altara, only came to regard Ebou Dar as its largest city and port, not its Capital. As a result, the ruling lord or lady of Ebou Dar, although styling themselves "King" or "Queen", found that their writ - their formal order under seal - did not extend far from the city walls..”

 

♦

They had set out after breakfast, paying the innkeeper with Tar Valon silver and an assurance they would stay there again should they return to Lugard. As she had stepped up into the saddle Carys had exclaimed, almost teasingly, that she hoped they would find less excitement in Ebou Dar. Her gray mare had snorted, perhaps laughing in response, and Elessar had nodded in agreement, even though deep inside he had had a gut feeling that it was not to be. The Warder had mounted and the pair of horses, with the packhorse at the back, had moved briskly toward the road south, Aes Sedai and Warder on their backs.

 

 

►▼◄

 

Riding down the dusty road that lead - eventually - toward Ebou Dar, Carys right behind on her mare and the valiant packhorse bringing up the rear, Elessar considered how much further they could go before stopping for the night. Dusk was well upon them and the woodland they were travelling through made it hard to see far ahead. There were no villages or inns close by, he knew that from a map he had checked a few hours earlier. They needed the rest. It was time to find a place to make camp.

 

He had another concern on his mind, though. He was sure they were being followed.

 

He had ridden back several times to check but each time the shadow.. he thought of it as such.. had eluded him. That meant it was someone well trained. Or well protected. Or both. His Warder-intuition told him that it probably was their assassin from Lugard, healed perhaps of his wound and on the hunt again, or one of his dark friends and allies.. Elessar had spoken with Carys and they had decided to remain cautious but to ride on as before.

 

The Gaidin stopped his stallion, Stormbreaker nickering quietly as he came to a halt, and faced his bondholder. “I think we should make camp.” He suggested. “The night is closing in.” He waited for Carys’ nod before leading them off the road and into the near shrub. He rode a little ahead in among the trees, checked around and then returned a short time later with word of a place where they could make camp.

 

After tethering the horses, giving them a quick brush and making sure they had something to eat, Elessar walked the perimeter of their small camp-area while Carys prepared some food over a little fire. The Warder soon returned and said he had seen nothing of their pursuer or any other danger. He remained vigilant, however, standing with his back to a tree and staring hard into the night for some time. It was only when his Sedai waved him over that he joined her by the small fire for something to eat and drink.

 

♦

The woodland was soon shrouded in Darkness. Shadows whispered long into the Night.

[keyholder21]

The setting sun behind her and to the right cast a barrage of colors against the sky, painting the world in hues of pink and orange. It was a pleasant end to a pleasant day. Earlier, she'd unwrapped the shawl from her shoulders and tucked into one of the empty saddlebags. The weather grew warmer as they rode South, and it took less concentration for her to block it out. Despite the mind affording channelers to disregard extreme temperatures, they still affected the body. Here in Altara, however, the air was comfortable – not hot, nor cold, just the barest hint of a breeze. As the wind ruffled her hair slightly, the Yellow smiled and looked over at her Warder.

 

He'd been carrying tension in him since Cairhein, and while that had lessened in Andor, it had come back nearly full force in Lugard. She twisted her mouth, studying the expanse of his back that was facing her. He had been riding ahead or behind the entire time, never next to her though often in sight. The amiable feeling that they had created in the Inn's Common Room had stayed with her, but seemed to have left him. He was a curious one, but obviously good at what he did. Had he not, she would have been dead a few times over. What an interesting line to dance around. How much brevity should these situations entail? ….They never discussed this side of the Bond in class. I can appreciate how difficult it would be to describe having someone else' feelings in your head, but navigating the relationship is just as hard if not more. Perhaps I should suggest a class in it to Talina when I return.

 

A few heartbeats later, Carys nearly jumped in surprise as Elessar rode up beside her and, in a low tone, divulged to her that they were being followed. Her face immediately became a serene mask and she filled herself with Saidar, preferring not to be caught unaware again. Potentially by the same assiliant. A million questions ran through her head, the major one questioning why they were targets, but who could guess the inner workings of a Darkfriend? She'd heard of one particular woman, a Blue, who had spent her life learning the habits and hunting those that were blackhearted, but Carys was very obviously not her. She suggested riding on as before, her words overlapping with her Gaidin suggesting the same. Now that they were aware he was there, the spy no longer had the upper hand. That was now firmly within their court. Until something else went wrong, and then it would all go to Shayol Ghul. Chuckling to herself, the Yellow once again found her situation funny. She had never planned to leave the Infirmary, to leave the Tower. Now, here she was a battle hardened, emotionally scarred Warder, and darkfriends on their heels. “The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills,” she whispered to the trees.

 

Their pace never changed, but both partners were on alert, ears listening to any sounds that weren't congruent with the woods around them, eyes searching for shapes in the darkness. Eventually, Elessar stopped his stallion and she reined the mare in to stop as well. “I think we should make camp.” He suggested. “The night is closing in.” She nodded, golden curls bouncing and followed him off the road and into the near shrub. He rode a little ahead in among the trees, checked around and then returned a short time later with word of a place where they could make camp. She breathed in a sigh of relief as no attack came while they were setting up the fire. The threat had shrunken, but not replaced her buoyancy, and the Yellow hummed a small tune as she flicked a Thread of Fire onto the wood and watched it blaze with ease.

 

After tethering the horses, giving them a quick brush and making sure they had something to eat, Elessar walked the perimeter of their small camp-area while Carys prepared some food over a little fire. The Warder soon returned and said he had seen nothing of their pursuer or any other danger. He remained vigilant, however, standing with his back to a tree and staring hard into the night for some time. Carys frowned for a split second, before leaving him to it. Some arguments weren't worth it. He would remain tense anyway, whether she called him to sit or not, best to just leave him be for now.

 

Roasting some of their meat provisions, the Yellow did call her Warder to sit, if only to eat and drink something before returning to his tree. They ate in silence, the fire crackling and snapping in front of them the only sound interrupting the woodland noises. As she finished her meal, the Aes Sedai cleared her throat and announced to her Warder that their journey thus far reminded her a little of one of Jain Farstrider's stories. Especially eating and sleeping by a fire in the middle of the woods. “Now, whether that makes you or I, Jain, I have no idea.” The shadow had hidden his face by that point, but she thought she saw the ghost of a smile cross his lips. She bid him goodnight and wrapped herself up in the dark cloak, happy for the heavy material.

 

The night passed without incident. As they broke camp in the morning, Carys pondered how much sleep her Gaidin had received. The tension was still thick in the air, though less so than the previous evening. Perhaps the bright daylight was a problem for their tracker. Curious, she thought, as she readied the horses. Dousing the remains of the fire with a tiny trickle of water, the pair set out, once again sights set on Ebou Dar.

 

The woods waxed and waned around them, growing dense at places and sparse at others. The Yellow felt compelled once again to take out her notebook and sketch. She watched the Warder ride ahead to scout and decided she would do so, embracing the Source to balance giving the road less of her attention. Her hearing could remain sharper while her eyes were trained to the objects she sketched. The piece of charcoal flew across the page, the drawing a large one. Her hands moved rhythmically and she didn't pay attention to anything until hoofbeats drew her back to the road, to the present. Closing the book without fully looking at the picture, she put it back in her saddlebags and raised her eyebrows to the Warder. He fell in step slightly ahead of her and gave her a look that promised he would share later. She cocked and eyebrow but acquiesced, riding in silence.

 

Later wasn't all that farther, however, as the Yellow and her Warder rode into a small village. Glancing around, Carys realized that she recognized this town as the one she and her Aes Sedai escorts had stayed in 50 years ago. She recalled one of the Sisters being extremely unhappy with the lack of "appropriate" facilties in the village; it had not changed much. The Inn was still the biggest and best looking building in town, the road still had plenty of ruts, and the people still looked kind but as if they had been ridden hard and put away wet. They rode toward the inn, where there were a few horses tethered out front on a metal pole.

Edited October 25, 2011 by keyholder21

[Elessar]

.. Nothing like a Dagger in the Heart ..

▼▼▼

▼▼

▼

.. It was like a Memory within a Memory ..

 

...Leandreen...

 

A whisper in his mind.. as he travelled the road of dreams..

 

Her hair of fire - it seemed aflame - framed a face he knew so well.. emerald eyes looked at him, held him.. - and he remembered..

 

 

►▼◄

 

Carrain Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah looks at her newly bonded Warder, feeling his pain.

 

"You share your Leandreen's loyalties, I see." She says.

 

His eyes meet hers and his gaze intensifies as he says, with emotion, ”I hate the Shadow, always have, always will. So did Leandreen. Our lives were formed around fighting the Shadow at every step, every corner. And in the end, she died fighting the Shadow. Those bandits that ambushed us and killed her were Darkfriends, I am sure of it. I just wish I had killed them all.”

 

I should have saved you, Leandreen. My life before yours. Forgive me.

 

...Memories...

 

He sees himself standing together with Carrain Sedai watching Leandreen’s burning funeral pyre lighting up the darkness. She seems so regal laying there, her emerald green eyes closed and her fiery red hair embracing her so familiar face, ready for the final journey. Soon she has been enveloped in flames, in a blaze of light that defies the night.

 

Oh Leandreen, forgive me.

 

A lifetime ago, or so it seems. A different life. A different world.

 

...Words whispered on the winds of time…

 

“You were a brave fighter, Leandreen”, he says, speaking words of strong emotion. ”As brave as they come. You fought the Shadow ‘till the end. Just as you always promised you would.” A short pause follows. Then he adds, “Your courage shall not be forgotten, your sacrifice will be remembered. You will be remembered. Rest in peace, Leandreen Aes Sedai of the Battle Ajah. May the last embrace of the Mother welcome you home.”

 

Goodbye Leandreen.

 

♦

 

As he turns away, from the corner of his eye he sees movement ..

 

Something is wrong.

 

The thought registers in his mind but he turns back toward the blaze of light. And stops in his tracks.

 

It cannot be!

 

This is different.. How..?

 

A part of his brain resists and understands that this is.. false. Not the way it was. Not the way it should be. But he cannot stop his feet from carrying him toward the fire. He almost floats across the ground toward the burning pyre, his breath caught in his throat. As he nears it he stares with strong emotion at the face he sees reflected in the flames. The so familiar face. Her face. The emerald eyes beckon him closer.. closer.. and he finally reaches out to the figure..

 

So close..

 

Reaches out..

 

Leandreen

 

“I will save you, my Sedai!”

 

Reaches out.. and touches.. nothing.. but flames.

 

Burning! He is burning inside. Flames of guilt are searing him from within.

 

A solitary tear runs down his cheek, in a river of pain.

 

He screams in agony.. and as he falls - slowly, ever so slowly - into blackness.. he sees Leandreen’s face form before his, the emerald eyes sad and speaking volumes.. her mouth opens slowly and she whispers in a surprisingly soft and emotional voice:

 

My Gaidin, you must forgive yourself.

 

►▲◄

 

Elessar crashed out of his dream.. and rolled onto his bedside, panting hard. His eyes were wide and his body rigid.

 

Leandreen

 

He hadn’t dreamt about her death for a long time. Catching his breath he looked around him in the darkness and after a few long bewildered seconds he recalled that he was in his room at the village inn. They had arrived at the inn the day before and from the partially open curtains he could see that it was way past midnight. So much for a peaceful night’s sleep. Laying back down on the bed his thoughts centered on the dream, or rather the twisted version of what had happened. His guilt after the recent attack had brought on, or triggered, the reproachful side that was also a part of him, repressed but still there. While they had been riding southwards from Lugard his thoughts had gradually centered more and more on Leandreen and Carrain, his previous bondholders.

 

Whom he had been unable to save.

 

Tension had grown in him, concern as well as anger for not being able to remove this latest threat - their pursuer. Even so, he had not expected that his latent guilt and frustration would manifest itself in such a way.

 

My Gaidin, you must forgive yourself.

 

The whisper, borne on the winds of time, echoed in his mind - and he closed his eyes, hardening his face against emotion and loss. He clenched his fists and tried to push the pain away.

 

In his mind he saw Leandreen’s sad face before him. Her face was so full of compassion that he almost cried.

 

Forgive yourself, Elessar.

 

It took a very long time before he feel asleep once more and gained some much needed rest.

 

 

♦

 

The day before they had broken camp in early morning. Dousing the remains of the fire with a tiny trickle of water, Carys and Elessar had set out, once again sights set on Ebou Dar. Later that day they had come upon a village and after a brief discussion had decided to stop there for a day and a night before continuing toward their destination. Looking around they had quickly found an inn. It was the biggest and best looking building in town, though that did not say much. The road still had plenty of ruts, and the people still looked kind but as if they had been ridden hard and put away wet. Outside the inn a few horses had been tethered out front on a metal pole. Elessar had fastened their horses to the pole and had given each of their mounts a carrot before joining Carys in the inn’s Common Room. They had received rooms from an innkeeper who Carys had spoken with and had settled in. They had shared a quiet meal in the afternoon before retiring to their adjacent rooms.

 

Elessar had spent the late afternoon hours reading. He had brought an historical book with his belongings, an old book that he had purchased in Lugard. It spoke of Ebou Dar and its history, told from the viewpoint of a local fisherman. It had been an interesting read for the Warder and had helped take his mind off his concerns. At least for a while. Afterwards he had lain in his bed thinking back on their journey. And on his guilt. Carys had made an effort to cheer him up in the past few days, he knew that, and he appreciated it. Her comment in the woods by the firelight that their journey thus far had reminded her a little of one of Jain Farstrider's stories - “Now, whether that makes you or I, Jain, I have no idea”, she had said - had made a ghost of a smile cross his lips. He was not sure if she had noticed with his face hidden, at least partially, in shadow. She had also smiled encouragingly at him at times when he had ridden up to her - after checking the road ahead and behind - , or so it had seemed to him. He had wanted to reassure her that she need not worry about him, but his current self-doubt had stopped his words. His days had passed in light and darkness.

 

In the evening they had met downstairs to talk a little over a drink and something to bite - and to check on the evening entertainment that this establishment could offer. Elessar had not had great expectations with regards to the entertainment, to tell the truth, but the visiting gleeman - a blond man wearing a typical cloak of colourful patches, fairly late in years with short hair and a gracious moustache, as well as glittering eyes that were filled with amusement - had in fact been been pretty good and had brought a moment’s respite for the tired and worn looking local people. Elessar’s pensive and periodically dark mood of recent days had also lifted somewhat as he had listened to the songs and stories from the gleeman.

 

Half-way through his act the gleeman had bowed theatrically to the audience, amid loud cheers, and then had said, in a captivating voice, that he would sing “A Dagger in my Heart”. This was a jolly little melody that always was a crowd-pleaser around these parts. Elessar had nodded in appreciation. He had heard the song before - and knew of the peculiar Altaran custom, especially popular in Ebou Dar, whereopon a married or widowed woman wore a so-called Marriage Knife, or Dagger, hanging hilt-down from a choker around her neck. When a couple got married the man gave the woman the knife as part of the ceremony and then requested that she use it to kill him! should he ever displease her. Elessar found the custom beyond understanding - some would say insane - but it surely made for some hilarious puns and some good satire.

 

“You know”, he had whispered to Carys as the gleeman had been readying himself to begin, “speaking of Daggers, I read somewhere about the complexities around these Altaran Marriage Knives. The knife tells any who care to look a great deal about the wearer. A white sheath means the woman is widowed and does not intend to remarry. A blue sheath means she will consider offers. Jewels or glass beads set into the knife represent children of the wearer, white stones for sons and red for daughters.“ He had said. “And they love their duels down here.” He had shaken his head. “If a child dies in a duel he or she has died honourably they believe. However, many women remove their children’s stones, effectively disowning them, if they refuse a duel past the age of sixteen.”

 

He had paused for a moment before adding silently under his breath: “Strange notions of honour they have, these Altarans.” It had been several moments later, as the gleeman had begun on his song, that he had recalled that Carys herself was one of these Altarans he was speaking of and that she might take offence at his words. How easy it was to forget that also Aes Sedai had places they called - or thought of as - home, besides Tar Valon. When he had met Carys’ eyes it had been impossible for him to make out if she had heard his muttered last words or not. He had shifted his eyes to the performance and had focused on the gleeman’s voice who was spinning his satirical tale of the “doomed” Ebou Dari husband, and his traditional Ebou Dari wife..

 

►▼◄

 

 

A Dagger in my Heart

 

A dagger for you, my Dear

Now that our wedding day is Here

If I displease you, stab me True

I’ll be dead, but I’ll still love You!

 

You fought for me well, as you Vowed

Your dueling scars make me Proud

There’s no other lady for Me

You’re everything I’d want to Be!

 

A duel is good for the Soul

Teach our children to fight, it’s their Role

And should they be weak, without Spine

Disown them, they’ll tarnish our Line!

 

Oh love, stick the dagger in my Heart

Your strength makes me proud for a Start

I am sure I’ll deserve this Rest

An Ebou Dari man at his Best!

 

 

►▲◄

 

The man with the scar rode hard southwards, his dark cloak billowing behind him, skirting the small village where the accursed Warder and Sedai had stopped to rest. He had his instructions and would follow them to the letter. Kicking his horse hard he galloped down the little used, and fairly narrow, forest lane, heading further into Darkness.

 

♦

 

OOC: Included another little poem of mine. It is of a somewhat dark humour/satirical nature in the great Altaran “Dagger” tradition. Enjoy! :)

[keyholder21]

Ooc: Lovely poem, as always :). Fits the tone/temper of an Altaran!

 

- - - - -

 

Sunlight streamed in the tiny window, lighting up a narrow strip of nearly threadbare carpet. The afternoon had been a quiet one, surprisingly. Both the Aes Sedai and Warder had been on high alert, full of tension, since Elessar had found someone tailing them from Lugard. But as time drifted by without the man – she was certain it was a man – attacking, the tension slowly melted away. Today, for instance, she had barely paced in the room before settling down to fix a few of her drawings. Now, as the sun changed positions slightly and orange light began to stream in, she was stretched out on the bed, feet dangling off the end. The charcoal stick in her hands had lost inches in length and had blackened the edge of her palm and several fingers.

 

Feeling her stomach rumble, Carys set her book aside and stood up with difficulty, trying not to get any black flecks on her dress or the bedspread. She washed her hands quickly, smoothed the bodice and skirt of dress and swept downstairs, boots clicking on the wooden steps, to join her Warder for the evening meal. Since they had Bonded, she hadn't spent a meal alone. She hadn't realized how much having company whilst eating could change the meal. For decades she had taken her meals in the Infirmary or in her rooms, preferring to focus on the tasks at hand rather than waste time. Lately, however, she'd come to enjoy having someone to discuss with over dinner. Food wasn't merely about sustaining life, but was a social event. Sharing a meal bridged gaps and built connections that otherwise may not have existed. It was amusing how some so integral to relationships could get lost in the shuffle.

 

Enough introspection, she jokingly chided to herself as she stepped into the Common Room. The place had begun to fill up, but even if had it been full, Elessar would have been easy to find. No matter that the Bond was like a beacon, the two of them were simply out of place in this small hard luck town. He was sans fancloth – probably left in the saddlebags so as not to draw more undue attention to the pair – but his grace, ability, and agility was obvious in all his movements. The Yellow walked toward him, skirting around several half full tables to sit down across from him.

 

More people filed in, filling up every chair in the place, before Carys and Elessar received their meal. The serving girl apologized profusely, her eyes widening at Carys' ageless face, but they waved her away with kind words. The food was fairly plain, but hearty, warm, and filling. In the midst of dinner, a visiting gleeman took the stage and awed the hardworking crowd to silence. Somewhere around the middle, Carys noticed that the girl had cleaned their places and refilled their drinks without asking. She smiled softly for a moment and then turned her attention back to the gleeman. He had begun singing a song called “A Dagger in my Heart,” much to the delight of the crowd. She laughed at some of the lyrics, taking pleasure in how exaggerated they were. Others, however, were completely correct. She had known women such as that, remembering back into her childhood. She'd met many ...colorful people when working with the Wise Women. Elessar's comments about Altarans before the gleeman had begun had made the Aes Sedai chuckle to herself. She wondered if he remembered that she was from Altara, Ebou Dar specifically, as he told her of their customs.

 

Later, after the gleeman had taken a break and then hopped back up on stage for another round, Carys slipped from the Common Room and retired to her room. The quietness of her room compared to the noise downstairs was almost deafening. She readied herself for bed and then stole a glance out the window, peering up at the sky. It was black as black could be. Frowning at the ominous inky darkness of the night sky, the Yellow pulled the curtains fully shut and slipped into the bed.

 

The next morning felt strange, and off putting. A fog had rolled in, lending a hushed feeling to everyone and every thing. Even the exchange for their room and board for the night was done in silence, and she'd climbed into the saddle without having spoken a word since the evening before. Elessar had looked ...introspective as he'd mounted his warhorse and urged the stallion forward. Less than a day's ride from here, she thought with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Earlier, before she'd left her room, Carys had reread the note that had started this leg of the journey. It wasn't much to go on, but the feeling that she'd been missing something with Healing had always been strong. For decades she'd felt a niggling at the back of her mind and nearly fifty years worth of working it hadn't solved the puzzle yet. It was time for a big clue. Urging her gray mare to follow the warhorse, they marched onward.

 

The gray fog whisked around the horse's hooves for hours before it finally melted away. Carys looked around at the scenery and felt a strong sense of deja vu that only grew as the pair crept closer to the city.

[Elessar]

.. My Gaidin, you must Forgive yourself ..

►▼◄

 

Leandreen’s whispered words from the dream tumbled over and over in Elessar’s mind as they rode through a foggy morning landscape toward the Altaran Capital, Ebou Dar.

 

They rode in silence, the clinging mists mirroring the oppressive mood. Stormbreaker moved forward in measured steps, feeling his master’s heavy disposition. Behind them Carys’ gray mare - and the valiant packhorse - kept pace. The gray fog whisked around the horses’ hooves for hours before it finally melted away. A breeze picked up as they neared the city later that day - and the road filled with travellers of all kinds heading to and from the Capital.

 

The sky was clearing, a canopy of blue gradually extending as far se the eye could see. And so it was that Carys Aes Sedai and Elessar Gaidin finally rode through the Moldaine City Gate and into Ebou Dar, below Altaran banners - rippling softly in the wind - depicting two Golden Leopards running on a field checked four-by-four in red and blue.

 

As they rode into the city, Elessar went over in his mind some of the descriptions of the Capital that he had read:

 

♦

..Ebou Dar is a beautiful city, straddling the River Eldar, with pale white buildings - of pale stone or pale marble - and plenty of canals. Transportation is easy on the passenger canal boats as well as on the broad streets and bridges. Large buildings and palaces are scattered throughout the city, the palaces richly decorated with tall spires or domes in the shapes of turnips or pears, emblazoned with bands of crimson, blue and gold. The city is surrounded by a very thick white wall, which has three main Gates: the Moldaine Gate, the Three Towers Gate and the Dal Eira Gate, as well as several minor ones. Throughout the city paved squares are very common, often containing a fountain bubbling water, a large statue, or both. Out of these squares, the Mol Hara square is by far the largest. At its center stands a statue of a woman with one arm raised as to point toward the sea, the heart of Ebou Dari trade. One entire side of the Mol Hara square is dominated by the gleaming white domes and spires of the Tarasin Palace, home of the current ruler of Altara..

 

..On the other side of the River Eldar lies the Rahad, the section of Ebou Dar where the less fortunate in life - the poor and others shunned by society - make their living. The streets in the Rahad are often narrow alleys, with buildings - often painted white though with the paint dirty and flaking, or with large chunks of plaster having come loose to reveal the coarse brick below - standing as high as five or six stories above the ground. The streets are filled with the refuse of the inhabitants and the stench of decay fills the air. The Rahad is no doubt a very dangerous place. Not only are duels very frequent, many adversaries do not even bother with the formalities and simply stab their victims in the back..

 

♦

They passed many Ebou Dari men and women in the streets. They were dark-haired, had dark eyes and an olive complexion. Many of the Ebou Dari women’s dresses were pale in colour with snug bodices and full skirts over bright petticoats. Elessar noticed that most of the women and even some of the men wore large hoop earrings. And that men and women alike wore curved daggers through their belts or sashes. He also spotted a Marriage Knife hanging hilt down from the neck of a woman who hurried past them intent on her errand. Several Ebou Dari men walked by, throwing them a quick glance. They wore the trademark Ebou Dari vests, long and elaborate. They were brightly coloured and were worn over pale shirts with wide sleeves. One of the men, one of wealth, Elessar noted, had added a decorative silk coat slung about his shoulders. It was held with a chain of silver strung between the narrow embroidered lapels. The man also carried a long narrow sword, in addition to his dagger. The Warder’s eyes appraised the sword as he rode past.

 

There were a fair amount of foreigners in the streets as well. Elessar recognized many of them by their complexion or by their attire. Murandians and Illianers. A few he would bet were Andorans and even a couple of Borderlanders if his eyes were not misleading him. There were merchants and shopkeepers, nobles in carriages and those less well off. There were the sights and sounds always found in big cities. And the splendour. And this city, Ebou Dar, was certainly one of the most beautiful in the southern lands.

 

They made their way into the central parts of the city, passing several paved squares with historical monuments and statues with wonderful fountains with bubbling water. It was a great contrast to the dusty and worn feel of Lugard.

 

 

▲

▲▲

▲▲▲

▬▬▬

▼▼▼

▼▼

▼

 

Forgive yourself, Elessar.

 

The whispered words in his mind permeated his thoughts of Ebou Dar and his facial features tightened. He closed his fists and tried to dispel the image of Leandreen in his head. Her morose eyes tore at his heart. But I failed, he thought angrily to himself. It was my duty to keep you alive. He unclenched his fists and struggled to keep his composure.

 

 

You are too hard on yourself, my Gaidin. You are only human.

 

Leandreen’s voice sounded in his mind. Echoes of memories..

 

She had spoken those words to him, many, many years before, when on a mission for the Tower he had failed to catch an assassin they had set a trap for, an assassin who had gone on to kill one of their party. He had felt such shame and guilt for failing in his duty that he had disappeared for a night and a day. Upon his eventual return Leandreen Sedai had sat down to speak with him and they had had a long talk. Her words had shaken him to the core then. Just as the echoes of the words shook him now.

 

He had always pushed himself hard to excel. His aim had always been to become the best at what he did. This had been the case even in his younger days when his harsh father had pushed him hard to train with a sword and to become a soldier. Failure had never been an option for him. Defeat had been unthinkable. As a result, he had never truly learned two important lessons: that one could push oneself too hard - and - that sometimes, despite every possible exertion made, it was impossible to stop something from happening. Learning to forgive himself for not succeeding at all times, for simply being human, was the hardest lesson Elessar could learn.

 

He brushed the painful thoughts away, not ready to deal with this yet.

 

Focusing on the Flame and the Void, that deep place within him that he had been taught to seek in his Warder training, he refound his equilibrium and his calm. He breathed in and out slowly and some of his tension disappeared from his body.

 

They continued onwards toward their destination, riding slowly along the busy streets of Ebou Dar, cloaks billowing behind them in the gaining breeze, as a late afternoon sun peeked out from behind a set of grey clowds high above in the Altaran sky.

 

♦

[keyholder21]

Multi-colored banners fluttered softly in the breeze, creating a patchwork of color against a blue sky. Carys looked up, shielding her eyes with her hand, to stare at the flags rippling in the wind. The edges of an old memory surfaced as her eyes grazed the banners, but it danced tantalizingly out of reach. Biting her lip, she struggled to remember what she couldn't remember, why did the Gate spark a memory from her young childhood? From what she knew, she hadn't left the city before the Aes Sedai found her in her fourteenth year and carted her off to the Tower.

 

The wind picked up for a moment then, snapping one of the flags and the Yellow dropped her eyes back down to the horizon. Directly in front of her stood the city in which she’d spent her youth. Despite all the time away, the sights looked familiar. The cobblestones were still a light brown, a layer of dust from who knew where coating the ground and settling on the bottom hems of colorful skirts and dark pants. Dark haired people walked to and fro, most intent on something. Thick mustaches occupied the upper lips of most men; marriage knives nestled in the breasts of most women. Carys shifted in the saddle and brought a hand up to her chest momentarily wondering what it would feel like to have a knife nestled there. What her life would have been like had the Aes Sedai not visited that particular Wise Woman shop.

 

She closed her eyes and shook her head, golden curls bouncing lightly against her back. It wouldn’t do to think about what might have been. Besides, she wouldn’t trade the feel and ability of Saidar for anything. Glancing at Elessar, she donned the mask of Aes Sedai serenity and they walked forward into the city, dodging the locals. A few gazed up at her, their expression melting from annoyance to apprehension as they noticed her ageless face. She nodded whenever she could, resisting the urge to proclaim to the crowd that she was an Ebou Darian; she’d finally returned home. It hadn’t occurred to her yet that her features denied Altara as her rightful birthplace.

 

The city felt both comfortable and new. The air smelled fresh; the sound of water lapping against docks, the underside of boats and buildings occupying the shore. Broad streets gave way to pale white buildings that were frequented by men and women wearing expensive clothing and an air of aristocracy. Carys watched a pair of finely dressed women – each with a marriage knife nestled in her bosom – step over a bridge and into a boat, settling their packages in the middle as the canal boat pushed from the wall and proceeded to float down stream. She felt a sense of pride at the canal system and smiled as she stepped over a wide bridge on her gray mare. I don’t have to visit every other city on the continent to know there is no other place like this. Ebou Dar is as much home as Tar Valon.

 

It was fortunate, and probably designed she assented, that they had entered the city on this side rather than the Rahad. Carys recalled quite a few visits to the poorer section as an apprentice that had left her shaken. It was a difficult life for some, and was made difficult by others. As she and Elessar rode past a bubbling fountain, the Yellow recalled one time in particular in the Rahad, where she’d served a handful of people after a riot had broken out. No one could remember what started, or ended the uprising, but when it was over, eight people had died and seventeen were injured. That had been the first time she’d set a broken bone. She remembered tying white cloth around the arm of the boy, him smiling shyly at her as she did so. She had to have been…eight?

 

Mol Hara square was ahead, the palace sparkling white in the sun on the far side. The center held the famed statue of Queen Nariene, her expression peaceful; her light gray hand stretching out toward the sea. Carys looked briefly up at the woman as she rode underneath her outstretched arm. She wondered if Nariene was well known in her time, perhaps ruling a stronger Altara than what existed today. Only to be reduced to a single statue. Dragging her eyes away, the Aes Sedai focused her gaze on the Inn up ahead. It will be nice to be out of the saddle, she thought, shifting subconsciously. Despite her love of riding, she was ready to spend more than a day on her own two feet.

 

A well groomed stableboy appeared seemingly from thin air to take their mounts. The Yellow and her Warder dismounted and nodded to him appreciatively. He began leading the mare and warhorse away, a compatriot sliding open a piece of wall that served as a gate. Carys observed how the gate seemed to melt seamlessly into the wall as the boy pushed it shut. Magnificent architecture that. She turned to Elessar, finding the Warder staring at the Palace behind them. She gave a small smile to his profile and then tapped him on the arm, indicating her desire to enter the Inn. He moved forward to pull open one of the massive double doors and they stepped into a well lit Common Room.

 

The Innkeeper sidled up to Carys immediately, his sharp eyes noticing her ageless face and Elessar’s deadly grace. He smoothly suggested a pair of rooms for the two of them, noting that there was another Sister in attendance on the same floor. “I can leave her a message to contact you when she returns, if you wish.” The Yellow demurred from the message, though she was curious who else was in the city. I’d rather meet her on my own schedule. Nodding, the Innkeeper dropped the subject and snapped at a young girl behind the bar. “Take this pair to the fourth floor,” he instructed and then excused himself from their presence.

 

A few moments later, the pair returned to the Common Room. Each had exchanged their travel worn clothes for crisp, new, attire. Pulling out the note, Carys reread it silently to herself before folding it carefully and resealing it in her belt pouch. “We must find the Wise Woman shop at the end of the canal and the beginning of the square,” she said confidently. “It is the shop where I spent much of my youth.” Smiling hesitantly before dropping into Aes Sedai serenity, she strode from the Inn and into the street, her shoulders set purposefully.

Edited November 4, 2011 by keyholder21

[Elessar]

.. Brushed by a Touch of Destiny ..

♦♦♦

Elessar’s eyes were drawn to the Tarasin Palace, drawn like a moth is to a flame.

 

He recalled some descriptions of the Palace.. whispers that entered his mind.. as he looked enthralled at the blazing white building.

 

..With four stories, the gleaming white Tarasin Palace of Ebou Dar, home of the infamous Throne of the Winds, is the tallest around, filling one entire side of the Mol Hara square. Deep, snowy white steps ten spans wide lead to great arched doors covered in beaten gold and carved in coiling patterns. Screened balconies of white-painted wrought-iron wind around tall spires banded in red and green tiles and every window looking outside is kept shuttered..

 

..The inside of the Palace is very colourful and different at every turn. In one corridor the ceiling is painted green and the walls blue, in another the walls are yellow and the ceiling pale rose. In yet another broad corridor the high ceiling is blue with yellow walls, while somewhere else the walls are pale red and the ceiling green. Wherever hallways cross the floor there is a mosaic of tiny tiles, intricate swirls and scrolls and loops..

 

..Some walls are covered with silk tapestries displaying scenes of the sea, and carved crystal bowls, small statues and fine, coloured Sea Folk porcelain fill arched niches. One of the great Halls houses the Throne of the Winds, another is used by the Altaran ruler to attend to important guests, while less is known of some of the smaller rooms in the Palace. Gates in the Tarasin Palace lead to various courtyards or to the gardens in the middle of the large structure..

 

 

The whispers stopped.

 

For a moment in time his world stood still.. each second lasted an eternity.. and he held his breath, waiting for.. something to happen. He did not know what, he did not know why.. but.. something.. would happen. Something important..

 

►▼◄

 

-TIME-

 

The sound of a drop of water hitting the clear surface of a summer-day pond..

 

-TIME-

 

Soft music coming from a cascading waterfall of many beautiful colours..

 

-TIME-

 

A golden leaf floats peacefully to the ground, borne on winds of hope..

 

-TIME-

 

A sharp thorn drinks blood coming from a river of pain.. a cleansing lights up the darkness..

 

-TIME-

 

►▲◄

Elessar’s eyes opened wider.. wider.. and then closed. The world seemed to.. right itself around him. Or twist back. Perhaps that was the wrong way to describe it, but that was the way it felt for him. He opened his eyes once again. Breathing out, a long calming breath, he felt the soft wind on his face. His finger touched his cheek in a soft caress. He blinked. His eyes widened again. For a moment.. just for a moment, it had almost felt like.. he had been brushed by a Touch of Destiny..

 

He stood staring intently for a very long moment at the majestic gleaming white building in the near distance, uncertain whether he had simply imagined it all.., before he noticed Carys tapping him on the arm, indicating her desire to enter the inn. Feeling a sense of loss.. he reluctantly turned away from the Palace and moved forward to pull open one of the massive double doors for his Sedai. He stepped into a well lit Common Room, right behind his bondholder.

 

Behind them, in the centre of the Mol Hara square, the famed statue of Queen Nariene, her expression peaceful, her light gray hand stretching out toward the sea, remained as a beacon of hope.

 

They were met by an innkeeper - an Ebou Dari man with a big moustache and a large belly - whose sharp eyes swiftly noticed Carys’ ageless face and Elessar’s deadly grace. He smoothly suggested a pair of rooms for them, mentioning also that there was another Sedai staying on the same floor. Soon they were up on the fourth floor and found their rooms. They quickly exchanged their travel worn clothes for crisp, new attire - which for Elessar meant a dark green shirt, black trousers and a dark cloak within which he fastened his sword. He did not really expect any danger at this Wise Woman’s house that Carys spoke of.. but it felt right to carry his blade that day, instead of the knife.. and he never distrusted his gut feeling.

 

Back down in the Common Room, Carys pulled out the note she was carrying and said that they had to find the Wise Woman shop at the end of the canal and the beginning of the square. “It is the shop where I spent much of my youth”, she added with a hesitant smile, before putting on her Aes Sedai mask of confidence and striding out of the inn, her shoulders set purposefully. Elessar followed her outside and walked by her side as they set course for the building in question.

 

♦

It was some time later that the Warder crossed one of Ebou Dar’s many canal-bridges and set his feet on the cobblestone street on the other side. Carys had remained behind at the Wise Woman shop. Elessar had felt intuitively that his Sedai would like some time on her own there. Coming back after all these years could not be easy, after all. Also, he needed some time on his own to think through the.. feelings or premonitions.. that he had had regarding the Tarasin Palace. He was lost in deep thought as he walked further into the centre of the city of Ebou Dar.

 

♦

A pair of piercing brown eyes watched the Gaidin walk past, from the Darkness of a closed clothes shop at the corner of Mol Hara square.

[keyholder21]

From the outside, the shop looked just as she remembered it. Something told her that the inside would look very similar as well. Small wisps of gray smoke popped out of the chimney and sailed upward, disappearing into the blue sky shortly after. The smell of rain hung heavy in the air, though the clouds remained in the distance. Carys took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Anticipation crawled through her skin, but there was some last minute trepidation as well. She turned her head from the small building to glance at her Warder. He was staring at the Palace in the distance, for once not completely on guard. I do believe I would startle him if I said anything. That's not like him. Tactfully, she stood there for another moment as Elessar came back to himself. His posture changed slightly as he was once again aware of where they stood. She felt the change and then began striding forward. I have not come all this way not to enter. Besides, what am I afraid to find?

 

A small bell atop the door rang as they entered. Carys stared up at it curiously, the noise bringing back memories from her childhood. It was likely that everything here would do that. Though she'd been gone fifty years, it was still merely part of a normal lifetime and thus fairly fresh in her mind. Especially one that had been honed to remember details such as she was. There was an herbal taste to the air and she recognized it almost instantly – blue goatflower. “Someone has a broken bone,” she said softly, half to Elessar, half to herself. A tea kettle sounded from another room, a kitchen at the back, and the Yellow grinned like a small child. Despite her fascination and devotion to Healing, she remembered and nurtured her knowledge of herbs. It was nice to test that every once in awhile. She took a few steps down the hallway and into the front room as the rattling of teacups sounded in the kitchen and an elderly voice called out for them to wait just a moment.

 

Elessar prowled around the room as Carys sat on a worn couch that looked to have been green at one time, though it had faded to a more beige color. The sun streamed in the window, keeping her pleasantly warm, and she looked around the room. A heavy wave of nostalgia swept over her as her blue eyes scanned the wallpaper, furnishings, and books. Just like the outside, it looked just as she remembered it. It was both difficult and easy to imagine her younger self sitting in the room, though then she would have been observing patients, not waiting on a Wise Woman to attend her. She smiled a soft smile as she recalled the first time one of the Women had allowed her to accompany her to a meeting. It hadn't gone well. She knocked the tea all over the patient...

 

A small gasp drew Carys's attention to the right. An elderly woman stood in the hallway, carrying a tray with a pot of tea, a black leaf blend, and a few teacups. She crossed the room slowly and set the tray on the table, her eyes still on the Aes Sedai. “I both expected and didn't dare for you to return in my lifetime. Sweet Carys...beg pardon, Carys Sedai I mean no disrespect.” She trailed off and sat in a highbacked chair across from them, her eyes sharp. The Yellow creased her brow, trying to figure out who the woman was.

 

“My Warder is going to check out the shop,” she stated, though not unkindly. The old woman nodded her assent and leaned forward as if to pour the tea. Elessar slipped out into the area of the shop as Carys sat forward to pour two cups full of the dark tea. “I took no respect Lady, though I am afraid I am remiss with remembering your name. Your face looks incredibly familiar, however.” She walked a cup around to the old woman and sat in the other highbacked chair to the woman's left. Old red velour covered the wood and though the cushion was obviously old, it was comfortable enough to the Aes Sedai. She brought the cup up to her mouth and blew on the hot liquid, the dark brown surface rippling with her breath.

 

“I am not surprised,” the woman said, taking a sip of her own scalding tea without a care for the temperature. It shook slightly as she lowered it back to the saucer. “I wasn't around much when you were older, but I took care of you frequently when you were but a small thing. You are well known through the community of Wise Women, you know. Healing things that we cannot. I've sent a few onto you at the White Tower; I knew your upbringing would ensure that you take care of them.”

 

Heavy footfalls came down a set of stairs and into the room. Carys excused herself from the old woman and stood to converse with her Warder. He explained that there was nothing in the shop but the woman and a man with a broken leg sleeping in another room on this floor. Upstairs held more rooms but they were empty and had an air of permanent emptiness. Then, surprisingly, he had excused himself from the shop – perhaps picking up on her need to oh-so-carefully explore the shop and this old woman. She nodded her assent and watched him walk out the door before she turned back.

 

Later, as Carys stood in the center of what had been her room, she realized who the old woman was and why her voice had been so familiar. She walked back to the stairs and down into the kitchen, a broad smile on her face, having finally solved the mystery. The two sat over a plate of fruit and discussed the past fifty years as the sun shone overhead. Toward the end of their discussion, the Aes Sedai recalled the reason she'd found herself at this particular shop. “I noticed the yellow flowers in the window,” she said casually as she popped a piece of fruit into her mouth, “and I know you have a message for me.” The old woman's eyes lit up with remembrance and she struggled to her feet.

[Elessar]

₪₪₪

₪ Dancing Among Golden Leopards ₪

-The Tarasin Palace: a Clash of Swords-

₪

►▲◄

 

.. Elessar Telcontar, Borderlander-bred Gaidin of the White Tower and Bondmate to Carys Aes Sedai, was one with his Blade, in this duel with the Shadow, as he flowed from one swordform into the next, in an endless graceful movement, Dancing Among Golden Leopards ..

 

There was a Clash of Swords, the sound of steel meeting steel, and sparks flew in the east wing room at the back of the Tarasin Palace, as the Warder’s blade met that of his Shadow opponent. From each corner of the partially lit square room a ferocious looking Altaran golden leopard statue stared intently at the two combatants, as if judging who was the most deserving. Elessar’s dark cloak flowed around him as he moved, as if touched by powerful ripples of wind. His sword was an extension of his arm and he almost floated from one step to the next, eyes intent on the Shadow figure before him, in a deadly Dance of the Blades.

 

Striking out in mid-stride, sword falling in an arc on his Darkfriend-opponent’s neck, the other man somehow deflected the blow and moved out of reach for a moment. Elessar found his balance, the move having carried him forwards at a slight angle, and stopped a few feet off to the side, his blade pointing downwards.

 

His hard focused eyes mirrored those of his opponent - and both men knew, without a word being said, that this was a fight to the death.

 

 

♦

 

It was some time earlier that day that he had spotted the Darkfriend.

 

He had been walking along the city-streets, deep in thought, after he had left Carys in the Wise Woman shop. He had felt drawn to the Tarasin Palace, ever since his.. premonition, if so it had been. And as he had started walking into the centre of the city his feet had inadvertantly carried him ever closer to the Palace. Passing the Mol Hara square, noticing that there were fewer people about than earlier in the day, his eyes had fastened on the majestic white building and he had been unable to think of anything else. He had stopped some way off, and had remained staring, eyes unblinking, for a long, long time. So transfixed had he been that it had been pure luck that he had spotted the Darkfriend. A carriage had at one point rolled by, with some noble or other, and for a second his eyes had left the Palace vista and had looked at the carriage passing by. Just as he moved his eyes back a Shadow came into view in a closed clothes shop nearby.

 

As soon as it had appeared it had been gone again but Elessar’s Warder instincts and bond-enhanced vision had picked it up. He had taken but a few steps toward the shop before its entrance-door had slammed open and a big man with long hair and dark eyes had stormed outside. The Warder had recognized the silhouette from their last encounter and had instinctively understood that this was their enemy who had been hunting them. The stranger had run down the adjacent street, cursing, and Elessar had followed. Down one road, then another. Around a dark corner and down a narrow alley. Somehow the other man had been able to stay just enough ahead of the Gaidin not to be caught.

 

As they had stormed around a corner between two tall buildings, almost running down several local people out for a walk, Elessar had halted for a second, remembering caution. Soon though his exileration at finally having the chance to remove this final threat to them had erupted inside him and he had run onwards, his blade now in hand, the hunted now hunting the hunter. He had finally chased the man up onto a fairly huge wall. The Darkfriend had stopped to face the Warder, considering whether to fight him there and then, but had reconsidered and had run along the wall and had jumped down into the garden beyond. Elessar had jumped after him. Only then had he realized that they had entered the Palace grounds. Pulse throbbing, and now with renewed excitement from being so close to the Palace, Elessar had shrugged off words of warning from inside his head and had set off after their enemy. The stranger had rushed toward a building - the Tarasin Palace! - and had run through the open door and up a flight of stairs. The Warder had not wondered at how a door could be open in the Palace, but had understood from their surroundings that this was one of the smaller gardens at the back of the Palace grounds. Rushing into the darkness inside the building he had taken two stairs at a time, relying on the focus of the Flame and the Void in his mind and on his Warder instincts. He had crashed through a door at the top of the stairs and had come rolling into attack position on the other side.

 

In the split of a second he had taken in the scene before him: a square room about 30 feet by 20 feet, moderately decorated with pale green walls, and with four golden leopard statues, mirror-images of the predators appearing on the Altaran sigil and banner, one in each corner; the man, sword in hand and an intensely dark look on his face, had stood on the right side of the room, ready to throw himself into the deadly duel. Coming to his feet Elessar had walked forwards slowly, blade raised, before coming to a stop 10 feet or so from the other man. His eyes had met the other man’s and he had nodded. There had been no need for words.

 

♦

The Darkfriend, cloaked in Shadow, had cursed loudly as he had rushed off down the street beside the Mol Hara square with the Warder close behind him. Once again things had not gone according to plan. What an idiot he was! He bungled every mission given to him. No wonder his Masters had almost given up on him. Several times he had considered stopping and laying in wait for the accursed Gaidin around a street corner or around the corner of a dark building, but each time he had decided against it, wanting to meet his opponent on better, more advantageous, ground. Or at least that was what he had told himself.

 

And in the end, they had ended up on the Palace grounds and inside the Tarasin Palace itself. Staring hard at the tall, dark cloaked Warder, the man from Lugard had held his sword high, in challenge, almost as if proclaiming that if this somewhat modest and almost forgotten Palace backroom, with its four silent golden guardians, was to be their chosen battleground, then so be it!

 

 

▲

▲▲

▲▲▲

▬▬▬

▬▬▬

▼▼▼

▼▼

▼

 

Elessar was one with his blade as he moved back and forth with elegance, striking out and parrying, feinting and thrusting. He moved with agility and purpose and so did his opponent who Elessar found surprisingly accomplished. It was almost as if there was a driving force behind the Lugarder. Sweat beaded on the Warder’s brow as he went on the attack once more. His opponent countered well but seemed also to be tiring, his strokes becoming ever slower. As they duelled Elessar felt the calm of the Flame and the Void filling him and it gave him inner strength. In Warder-training his teacher had always said:

 

“Flow through the motions, be one with the sword. And when you see signs of weakness in your opponent or find an opening, seize the moment! Precision is everything!”

 

And seeing weakness in his enemy now he struck out with his blade, moving inside the other man’s guard and slamming the hilt of his sword into the man’s shoulder. The Darkfriend was too slow to defend himself, his sword coming up too late, and screamed out in pain as he fell to the floor in agony. Elessar combined swordforms and smashed his blade toward the man’s body to finish him off, but somehow the other man managed to twist to the side and the Warder’s strike missed. The momentum brought the Gaidin slightly off balance and he corrected by moving away from the man who was trying to gain his feet.

 

Elessar panted slightly, feeling weariness rushing over him. He knew that he would have been even more tired had he not gained the added strength through the Bond from his Sedai. Perhaps the Bond would save his life today, even if his Bondholder was some way away in the city. She would know something was up with him. She would feel it. Now all he had to do was to stay alive. After their shared experiences in the relatively short time they had been acquainted and their rewarding Warder-Sedai companionship on the road and in the face of grave danger, it would somehow be.. a touch irritating if he were to go ahead and die right now. These thoughts went through his mind in the few seconds before he faced his adversary again.

 

The man had by now regained his feet, and came toward the Warder with his sword half raised. He seemed surprisingly unaffected by the heavy sword-blow to his shoulder. Throwing the Gaidin a scornful look he said in a spiteful voice: “The Great Lord will enjoy your blood, Gaidin!” One moment he was several feet away, the next he was right in front of Elessar! The Warder did not have time to consider how the man had caught him off guard. He tried to deflect the blow but the Darkfriend moved with quick feet inside the Warder’s guard and struck out hard, his blade slicing into Elessar’s shoulder, drawing blood. Elessar cried out in pain, taking a step back, and brought his sword up to deflect a second blow. The man stepped aside, obviously less weary than he had let on. He turned almost nonchalantly toward the Warder and waited for him to rejoin the duel. Moving out of sword’s reach the Gaidin felt at his injury with his left arm. It was not a deep wound though it would need tending to. He tried to ignore the pain. I underestimated him, he thought darkly. I will not do that again. He met the other man’s ugly grin with a cold stare. Then he raised his sword again and they resumed their Dance.

 

Back and forth they flowed, thrusting and parrying, attacking and spinning out of range and moving swiftly from stance to stance, two opponents locked in deadly combat. At one point a sudden move from the Darkfriend brought his blade arching towards Elessar’s neck. Steel met steel but the blow was deflected and the the Gaidin sidestepped out of the way of an oncoming strike. He in turn swept his scimitar in low and the Shadow figure blocked it and immediately retaliated, bringing his sword up and around in a way that gave his opponent only one blocking-move and one which could well leave him open for new attacks.. At another point, a little later on, Elessar suddenly moved forwards and performed a vertical slash, high to low, but which altered course in midswing. The other blocked the move deftly but the Warder followed up with another hard swing which was parried. Then the Gaidin changed form, performing a diagonal slash which began low and rose cleanly and on the return swing began a series of powerful overhand blows. This took great stamina and strength and Elessar was only able to keep it up for so long. The Darkfriend parried well, however, with powerful strokes, but was driven back on the defensive..

 

Elessar could not tell how long they had fought, but it felt like an eternity.

 

And just when he needed it the most he found a deep strength from within. Though his body was exhausted he kept on fighting, refusing to give in. Perhaps it was that part of him that never would or could accept defeat that helped him now. Perhaps it also was his anger and fear of failing in his duty yet another time. And perhaps it was strength coming through the Bond from his Aes Sedai, as well as an attitude in him that nothing! was going to destroy his Bond with Carys. He fought on relentlessly against this clearly highly accomplished swordsman of the Dark.

 

Then it happened. Just as Elessar struck the Darkfriend in the side with his blade, in a surprise move where he combined several difficult swordforms, bringing the man to his knees, his sword falling to the floor, bells rang in the Warder’s ears, he felt dizzy and his movements slowed..

 

..He stumbled backwards.. away from the kneeling Darkfriend.. further back.. and then his hands touched the wall. Surprised that he had come so far back in the room he looked down and saw one of the golden leopards laying on its side. When did that happen? he wondered. Kneeling and touching the golden leopard gently on its head, his breath caught in his throat.. What..?

 

Time seemed to stop, for a second time that day for Elessar.

Everything froze.. sound, sight, awareness..

 

-SHIFT-

 

 

►▼◄

 

-TIME-

 

He walks into a blaze of whiteness.

 

-TIME-

 

Eyes are watching.

 

-TIME-

 

Burning. Like a fire.

 

-TIME-

 

The marble melts.

 

-TIME-

 

The answer is in you. It always was.

 

-TIME-

 

I know.

 

-TIME-

 

►▲◄

 

 

-SHIFT-

 

Elessar’s eyes opened, but all he saw was white.

It was as if a burning flame, white as marble, was searing him from within.

Except he felt no pain.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, all the white disappeared from his sight and the Palace room came into view once again. He blinked - and slowly felt his senses returning. Removing his hand from the golden leopard, standing up again against the wall, he breathed in and out, almost as if testing the air. His gaze fell upon the Shadow swordsman who was attempting to gain his feet, one hand on his blade. Elessar walked toward him, raised his blade and unceremoniously thrust it hard into the man’s back between the shoulder blade. The Darkfriend cried out in great pain and cursed loudly. As he fell backwards, blood gushing out of his mouth, his arm swung out almost reflexively and caught the Warder’s right leg. A sharp knife cut deeply into Elessar’s flesh and it was the Gaidin’s turn to cry out in pain. Elessar cursed loudly and berated himself for not being cautious enough, but even as he felt the pain run through his body he felt a sigh of relief that the knife had not been poisoned. That feeling of pain, sudden overpowering pain, I will never forget! He thought, recalling the poison-episode. Beside him the Darkfriend lay dead, his eyes forever lost to the Light of the world. His last thought before dying was one of horror: in his mind’s eye he imagined eternal torture from the Great Lord for his constant failures.

 

Elessar sat down on the floor, for a moment ignoring the pain and the exhaustion he felt. He put his sword aside and closed his eyes. This time, I did not fail! I did my duty! A strong feeling came over him, of gladness, of deep contentment, of pride. Though he did not know how, he knew deep inside that this experience.. this necessary accomplishment.. had been a kind of cleansing for him. You must forgive yourself, Elessar! Leandreen’s whispered words echoed in his mind and he felt tears starting to flow down his cheeks. A stream of tears. He could not stop them, and did not want to, nor the wide smile that gradually came upon his lips. It would take time to heal him completely, from the guilt that for so long had been a part of him, but he had started down that road, he knew that now. He had started the process of forgiving himself.

 

Whispers entered his mind.. whispers of Hope and of Redemption..

♦

Tears of Compassion

To Make you Whole

Tears of Forgiveness

To Cleanse your Soul

♦

Binding his shoulder and leg with strips of his shirt, to stop the blood-flow, Elessar Telcontar left the Palace some time later. He left the way he had come, dragging the dead Darkfriend down the stairs and out the back door. It appeared that this part at the back of the Palace grounds was less well guarded than at the front. There were no guards to be seen anywhere. Perhaps destiny had intervened.. For whatever reason, Elessar was pleased. Now was not the time for difficult questions from Palace guards - and answers. His head clearing, he shook his head. Entering the Tarasin Palace. And fighting a deadly duel in one of the Palace rooms. He had been out of his mind. Even so, in a strange way it felt.. right.

 

It is a path I had to walk. He thought. To start mending.

 

A solitary tear glinted in his eye as sunlight entered his soul.

Ignoring the pain in his leg and in his shoulder, embracing the calmness of the Void within him, the Warder climbed the Palace back wall, using the remainder of his strength to bring the dead body with him. He did not want it to be found inside the Palace grounds. Safely on the other side, gasping for breath, Elessar left the Darkfriend inside a dark alley under some refuse, in the Shadows. After a few minutes rest he started walking, with slow and measured steps, toward the Wise Woman shop. Going past the Mol Hara square he half walked, half stumbled along, receiving dubious looks from passersby. His weariness from the ordeal and pain increased, cracks appearing in his wall of calmness, as he neared the canal-bridge that he had walked across earlier that day. He gritted his teeth. Not too far now. Carys would heal his injuries - and probably be somewhat vexed with him - but all he could think of was how good it would be to see his Sedai again.

 

►▲◄

[keyholder21]

The hallway creaked occasionally under footsteps, but was as solid as ever. The faded yellow wallpaper was curling in the corners of other room, though the two set aside for emergencies were clean as clean could be. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, a sunbeam peeking through the curtains caught on some as they wafted around, making a momentarily design in the air. Carys wandered down the hall wiping her hands on the apron she wore, reveling in the quiet. She didn’t remember the shop every being this quiet when she was young, but the old woman informed her that more shops had popped up around the city, ensuring that Wise Women were close at hand when needed, but lowering the amount of traffic for everyone.

 

Her apron was dotted with the foul smelling herbs and with wet handprints. The man with the broken leg had needed his poultice changed. The old woman was resting upstairs, having dozed off earlier. Carys had scrubbed her hands and replaced the herbs and covering. She’d felt thirteen again, hands and herbs fixing what was broken. She'd offered Healing but the man had refused. It had been an interesting exchange. He wasn't fearful or hateful but had merely declined. “I appreciate the offer Aes Sedai,” he had said with a bowed head, “but I must say no.” She felt that Aes Sedai urge to tell him he needed it, but she had stamped that down and hadn't pressed, seeing the determination mixed with the pain in his eyes. Instead, she had nodded and replaced what was necessary, leaving him to rest as well. Other than Healing, sleep was the best thing he could do.

 

As she was sleeping, the older woman trusted the former apprentice, and current Aes Sedai, with the shop. It was funny how easy everything about the place came to her. It was a glimpse of what her life would be like without the Great Serpent ring she supposed, though without the thrill of saidar or the training of the Tower. She untied the apron strings and draped it over the back of a chair as she entered the kitchen. It would have been a happy life had she not known anything else, but would not suffice now.

 

The note the old woman had produced rested in her belt pouch, nestled between a few herbs. The Yellow sat down at the old table and pulled it out. The paper had severe creases where it had been folded, but the ink was still a solid black. The handwriting was tantalizingly familiar, but it was the contents of the message that plagued her currently. The loopy scrawl could be figured out later; the riddle was most pressing. Why would someone urge her here to read a riddle? It was frustrating. She felt tension and irritation through the Bond and frowned curiously. She probed at bundle of emotions that was Elessar, but it didn’t rise into anything else and so she turned her attention back to the note.

 

Lost in time

A loom half empty

Missing key elemental

Pieces.

Five.

a better blend

 

Her blue eyes read and reread the note, confused as to the subject and the answer. A loom? What did that have to do with the Yellow Ajah? Sighing, the Aes Sedai scrubbed a hand over her face and closed her eyes.

 

Carys snapped her eyes open and bolted out of her chair. That was pain. Pain and determination. And weariness. What now? I thought we were past all this?! She made a half moaning half growling sound as she embraced the Source. Sending a weave to the old woman, she explained as she was running that she needed to leave. Her Warder was in immense danger. Throwing open the door, Carys gathered her skirts and started running in his direction. I will make it in time. I will. He can’t die. We’ve been through this before and this will end up the same. We’ll both survive. Ignoring the people gawking at an Aes Sedai running, she bobbed and weaved around them. Aes Sedai decorum was the least of her worries.

 

Saidar gave her sharper hearing and vision as she veered toward Elessar. At least this close, it was very easy to find him. Toward the Palace, toward Mol Hara square. The Yellow squinted into the sunlight as she ran, the large yellow sphere backlighting the bridges across the square. She ran blindly, knowing that the Gaidin badly needed Healing. The bundle at the back of her head pulsed like a beacon.

 

An unseen break in the stones sent her sprawling to the ground. Carys released her skirts and threw her hands out in front of her, instinct rather than intellect taking over. Had she been thinking straight, a cushion of Air would have been better and wasted less time. As it was, she took the brunt of the fall on her right wrist and her chin, scraping the latter hard enough to begin bleeding. Dazed, the Yellow lay there for a moment recollecting herself. Her wrist ached; she guessed it was sprained. Red drops spilled from her chin onto the dark gray stone, though not enough to be worrisome. Groaning, she rose slowly to her feet.

 

The urgency for Elessar was still there, and began flooding back into her as she rose. Taking a few shambling steps at first; Carys began running toward him again a delving weave ready to be placed on the Warder as soon as he was in sight.

 

She didn’t have to wait much beyond her fall. As the sun dipped below a building, the canal bridges were no longer awash in sunlight and Carys could see her Gaidin stumbling along. Wiping her hands on her torn skirts, the Yellow ran to meet him at the center. She resisted the urge to throw her arms around him, but she did throw the Delve at him. Forcing the Warder to sit on the stone bridge, Carys knelt at his side.

 

It clicked then. The riddle. As she received results from the Delve, Carys wove a second weave, this one complete with all five elements. To one holding Saidar it would look like a thick rope. She took a second to marvel at how easy it was to add Fire and Earth to the Healing weave. It required a slight change in fit, but altogether wasn’t impossible. Pushing back loose blonde strands from her face, the Yellow forced the weave into Elessar’s shoulder and leg, knitting the bone and muscle back together, praying to the Creator that the new weave worked faster and better than the old. Praying that she hadn’t been wrong, that what she’d created wouldn’t damage him instead.

 

The Warder grunted at the Healing weave, his eyes snapping wide open to stare at her as she fixed his wounds. Carys felt tears in the corners of her eyes and she realized that in the short time they’d been Bonded, he’d become her closest friend. Her only true friend if she was to be honest with herself. Nowhere else along the way had it seemed important to have someone there.

 

The weave worked though. It was amazing how it had never been done before. She released the Source and sat back on her heels as she finished Healing him. “What…What happened?”

[Elessar]

.. Reflected in a Mirror of Emotions ..

►▼◄

 

Stumbling along the Ebou Dari canal-bridge, pain and weariness taking its toll, flashes from the deadly Palace duel swept through Elessar’s mind..

 

▬▬▬

.. Back and forth they flow, thrusting and parrying, attacking and spinning out of range and moving swiftly from stance to stance, two opponents locked in deadly combat.. A sudden move from the Darkfriend brings his blade arching towards Elessar’s neck. Steel meets steel but the blow is deflected and the the Gaidin sidesteps out of the way of an oncoming strike. He in turn sweeps his scimitar in low and the Shadow figure blocks it and immediately retaliates, bringing his sword up and around in a way that gives his opponent only one blocking-move and one which could well leave him open for new attacks ..

 

.. Elessar suddenly moves forwards and performs a vertical slash, high to low, but which alters course in midswing. The other blocks the move deftly but the Warder follows up with another hard swing which is parried. Then the Gaidin changes form, performing a diagonal slash which begins low and rises cleanly and on the return swing begins a series of powerful overhand blows. This takes great stamina and strength and Elessar is only able to keep it up for so long. The Darkfriend parries well, however, with powerful strokes, but is driven back on the defensive ..

 

.. Removing his hand from the golden leopard, standing up again against the wall, he breathes in and out, almost as if testing the air. His gaze falls upon the Shadow swordsman who is attempting to gain his feet, one hand on his blade. Elessar walks toward him, raises his blade and unceremoniously thrusts it hard into the man’s back between the shoulder blade. The Darkfriend cries out in great pain and curses loudly. As he falls backwards, blood gushing out of his mouth, his arm swings out almost reflexively and catches the Warder’s right leg. A sharp knife cuts deeply into Elessar’s flesh and it is the Gaidin’s turn to cry out in pain. Elessar curses loudly and berates himself for not being cautious enough ..

 

▬▬▬

 

But I defeated him, he thought with great satisfaction. This time I succeeded.

 

In the distance he saw someone hurrying toward him, rushing towards the stone bridge, and he knew it was Carys. He felt it through the Bond - it was like a light coming ever nearer - and when she was closer he recognized her features. Smiling, he halted about midway across the bridge and waited for her to reach him..

 

♦

Elessar’s eyes snapped wide open and his whole body stiffened as a flood of healing weaves rushed through him, sweeping away all his pain and his injuries.

 

Staring at his Sedai, at Carys, he felt a moment of strong emotion, in appreciation for how she had healed his injuries - which, truth be told, were more serious than he had imagined - but even more so for the close and valuable friendship they shared.

 

Emotions mirrored in her eyes.

 

He looked away for a second, collecting himself.

■□■□

□■□■

■□■□

□■□■

 

“What…What happened?” Carys asked, sitting back on her heels. There was concern in her voice. He turned to meet her eyes, but instead of answering straight away he paused. Looking more closely at her he saw the torn skirts and her scraped chin where there was fresh blood. His eyes tightened. He asked her concerned, what had happened and if she had other injuries as well. He also thanked her for Healing him, yet another time.

 

As for what had happened to him.. well, what could he tell? Would she understand? Would it all sound like a ‘fool’s errand’? He sighed. There was no point in telling untruths. They were in many ways Bonded in thought and in deed. Carys deserved to know the truth. And so he told her everything that had happened, from the moment he had spotted the Darkfriend until she had come upon him here on the stone bridge over one of the canals close to the Mol Hara square. He told of the deadly sword fight and duel in the Tarasin Palace, of his ‘emotional trial’ as it were and of the feeling and ‘knowledge’ that he had begun to heal himself, by starting to forgive himself for his past ‘failures’, after succeeding in removing this final Shadow-threat to them.

 

He ended by admitting that what he had done could perhaps be viewed as somewhat.. reckless - he mumbled something about what his old Warder-teacher would have said to him, but his words were unclear - but that it had been something he just had to do, when given the opportunity. “It is difficult to explain”, he added a little defensively, “but I think this was something I was.. meant to do.”

 

There was a moment of silence after his last words. Elessar got up from the stone bridge. He felt tiredness in his body - the Healing had taken his remaining strength - but no more pain for which he was grateful. He stood there and looked silently down at the canal and at the water flowing by, thinking of how the ‘river of life’ carried you along, smoothly at times and other times much less so.

 

There was a pulchritudinous poem he had once read, called ‘A Mirror of Emotions’, which spoke of life changes. Of decisions. Of fate. And of New Beginnings. He remembered the words well and they whispered in his mind as he stared down at his own reflection in the water.

 

 

►▼◄

 

 

A Mirror of Emotions

 

Look into the Mirror of your Soul

Gaze at the Reflections of the Past

Making good Decisions is your Goal

Finding sound Solutions that will Last

 

Break the Glass of Wisdom if you Must

Do what must be Done, who can Foretell

Fate may guide your Hand and garner Trust

Throw your Darkness into Mirror’s Well

 

Listen to the Echoes in the Night

Borne on Winds of awe-inspiring Grace

Start a New Beginning in the Light

Feel the Peace within your Soul Embrace

 

 

►▲◄

 

 

Finally Elessar turned to face Carys again. His eyes met hers in silence - and he waited for her to speak.

 

OOC: Included another of my poems here in our story. It fits well in the arc telling Elessar’s emotional journey I think. Enjoy! :)

[keyholder21]

ooc: very lovely, as always!

 

The city was strangely quiet, she realized, remembering no people on her way to find Elessar, hearing nothing now. Opening her eyes, Carys stared across at the other side of the bridge. The gray stone was crumbling in a few places – in one particular spot the stone had cracked more than halfway. It marred a beautiful sweeping engraving that peaked and decreased in almost fluid waves. She drew in a breath and let it out again. Water lapped on the stone legs of the bridge which brought her back to the feeling that the city was eerily quiet. There was still daylight – where were all the people?

 

Turning her head to the side, the Yellow soaked in the coolness of the stone. Her skin felt flushed; her heart still beating rapidly in her chest. The terror she had pushed aside earlier had resurfaced and then fled, leaving her weak. Or was that the Healing? Funny how she could Heal all the day in the Infirmary and still feel as if she could run a mile. Out here, with emotion plaguing her, even the smallest use of the Power could make her feel winded. The bridge held her though, its cool facade making her feel better and calmer. She took another deep breath to follow the one she'd just released and looked at her Warder. He, too, was resting against the stone bridge wall. His eyes were closed and face tilted up toward the sky as he told her about his encounter. The darkfriend. The fight. The wounds. The death.

 

Drawing her knees up close, Carys toyed with the ripped dress as she listened. One of her knees was poking through a rather large hole in the fabric. She jerked the dress down to cover it, glad to have something for her hands to do while Elessar talked. She didn't want to think about what could have happened had she not been close enough. Part of her wanted to smack him for it, but for all that they were Bonded, she still didn't feel it was her right to tell him what to do. How very un Aes Sedai like, she chided herself. It was quite the story, made all the better for the Warder's storytelling skills. Despite his weakened state and the traumatic ordeal, his voice was still steady and strong, inflecting certain words as if he were a gleeman on stage. She smiled a small smile, thankful the fight had ended the way it did. She had known as she was running toward him that her life was better because of their Bonding. The Wheel wouldn't be so unkind as to strip him away from her so quickly.

 

He ended by admitting that what he had done could perhaps be viewed as somewhat.. reckless. He mumbled something else, but she couldn't hear it. “It is difficult to explain”, he added a little defensively, “but I think this was something I was.. meant to do.” She nodded, though she didn't say anything. It didn't feel like a moment for speaking.

 

Carys scrambled to her feet as Elessar got up from the stone bridge. Her knee twinged, but she ignored it, ready for him to lean on her if necessary. Healing always took a lot out of the Healer – but it took more out of the person Healed. The Warder would be tired, weak, and ravenously hungry. She waited as he stood there and looked silently down at the canal. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, as was – she was beginning to understand – a fairly usual state after a life-threatening ordeal. When everything else was chaos, one's thoughts were all that could be controlled. She held her right arm with her left hand and waited quietly.

 

Finally Elessar turned to face her again. His eyes met hers in silence. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it quickly. The fast movement made her chin throb where it was starting to scab over and she winced. Concern rolled through the Gaidin's eyes, but he said nothing. She demurred earlier when he'd asked her about her injuries, preferring to focus on his tale. A scraped chin and skinned hand were nothing compared to what he'd experienced. But in the short time she'd known him, Carys had learned the Elessar forgot nothing and missed even less. Even if she could Heal herself back to perfect in a mere moment, he wouldn't forget that she was injured and hadn't explained why.

 

“I think we should get you back to the Inn.” Carys said finally, her throat gravelly. She cupped a hand around her mouth and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, it was in her normal voice. “Food and sleep are of the utmost importance right now. As you well know,” she spoke the last softer and with a lopsided smile. Her Warder nodded and started walking. Probing at her chin gently, the Aes Sedai checked the new forming scab with an index finger before she followed the Gaidin.

 

The two walked slowly along the stone streets, picking their way back through the city. The Yellow was glad for the slow pace, favoring the uninjured side of her body to allow her swollen knee to have some reprieve. She knew she'd need to put cold on it when they made it to their destination. “Elessar,” she said quietly as they were walking, “I spoke to the old woman more after you left. She gave me the message that was left for me. It was ...not what I expected though not without its benefits.” Carys paused in speaking, though her feet kept in time with Elessar's. “But it makes my return to the White Tower necessary. I must speak with my Sisters there.” The last came out more forceful than she intended, passion creeping into her voice so that she almost growled the last. Surprised, she clamped her mouth shut – again bothering her scraped chin.

 

They reached the Inn a few moments later. The Common Room was approximately a third of the way full. The Innkeeper looked over the two of them, his eyes alit with confusion and interest as they manuevered through the maze of tables and retreated to the fourth floor without a word.

 

The floor was once again quiet, Carys felt as if the deafening silence was following her. Funny how it could be so comforting in one moment and so frightening in another. As she turned the handle on her door, the Yellow looked over at Elessar currently opening the door to his room. “I never said you're welcome,” she said almost wistfully. “You never have to say it, but I appreciate the thank you. You're quite welcome Elessar.” Her door clicked open and she stepped into her room, closing the door behind her.

[Elessar]

.. Embracing a Bond of Hope ..

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The city was strangely quiet. Or at least so it seemed to Elessar. Whether it was because few people were around, or because the Warder’s senses were mostly inward-tuned and introspective, he could not say. He walked beside his bondholder along the stone streets of Ebou Dar in silence, lost in thought.

 

He had been surprised when after telling Carys his story, the chain of events that had brought him injured but alive to the canal-bridge, she had hardly reacted at all. He had not been sure what to expect, but he had expected some reaction. Leandreen would have been angry at him, but mostly for leaving her out of the action: How dare he take on filthy Darkfriends without her at his side! Carrain would have been a little disappointed in him, for taking ‘foolish’ chances. Perhaps their relatively short bonded time together had made Carys unsure how to react, or mayhap she had not felt it was her right to judge him, despite having been concerned for him and probably thinking he had been somewhat foolhardy. Or perhaps she simply had felt that the moment had not been right for speaking?

 

She had listened carefully and respectfully to his long story and had smiled kindly at him as he had spoken at some length. He had appreciated the understanding he thought he had seen in her eyes, despite his partially reckless action. And having gotten to know her character and her integrity, he had known that his life was better because of their Bonding.

 

Their Bond was one of Hope and he embraced it to fill his Soul with Light.

 

♦

 

Elessar felt weariness in his bones and a great hunger that always came after being Healed. Even so, he was more concerned for his Sedai than himself. She was in some pain though she hid it well. He threw her some uneasy looks as they walked, but said nothing. He would make certain that she saw to those injuries as soon as they were able to. She, however, had been mostly concerned with him from the start. “I think we should get you back to the inn.” She had said, clearing her throat. “Food and sleep are of the utmost importance right now. As you well know..” she had added with a lopsided smile. He had nodded back, thinking that treating her wounds was just as important, but had made no comment and had started walking away from the stone bridge.

 

The two walked slowly along the Ebou Dari streets, picking their way back through the city. After they had walked in silence for a while Carys spoke. She told him in a quiet voice that she had spoken to the old woman more after he had left. The woman had given Carys the message that had been left for her. It had ..not been what she had expected though not without its benefits. She added, in a more passionate voice, that it made her return to the White Tower necessary; she needed to speak with her Sisters there. Elessar nodded in understanding and kept walking. Their long journey to Ebou Dar was at an end; it was time to return home.

 

Home to Tar Valon.

 

They reached the inn a few moments later. The Common Room was approximately a third of the way full. The innkeeper looked over the two of them, his eyes alit with confusion and interest as they manuevered through the maze of tables and retreated to the fourth floor without a word. They both needed rest, but Elessar planned to go downstairs for some food a little later on before going to sleep. He headed toward his room and started opening the door when Carys spoke to him. “I never said you're welcome,” she said almost wistfully. “You never have to say it, but I appreciate the thank you. You're quite welcome Elessar.” He smiled inside as she stepped into her room, closing the door behind her.

 

 

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.. Returning to the White Tower ..

 

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It was three days later, in early morning as the sun was rising in an ocean-blue sky high above the Altaran Capital of Ebou Dar, that Carys and Elessar started their return journey home to Tar Valon.

 

Well rested, the Warder led the way on his black stallion Stormbreaker with the Aes Sedai right behind on her gray mare, and with the loyal and sturdy packhorse, which they had named Stayer, bringing up the rear. Food and sleep - as well as a few day’s rest - had indeed invigorated the Gaidin and now he looked as Warder-like as ever, his eyes everywhere and vigilant, his body posture confident and strong as he rode through the streets of Ebou Dar, dark travelling cloak billowing behind him in the wind, his sword fastened at his horses’ side. They reached the northern City Gate and soon they sped north-eastwards along the Great North Road, sometimes also called the Lugard Road, in the direction of Murandy and afterwards Andor.

 

♦

It was many, many days later, on a somewhat clouded and windy afternoon, that they finally came in sight of the Shining Walls of Tar Valon. Seeing the city in the horizon Elessar smiled in spite of himself. It felt as if he had been away for a very long time. He knew it was not so, not really, but so much had happened lately that it made it seem longer. It felt like coming home after a long absence.

 

His old Warder-teacher’s words of so long ago whispered in his mind..

 

This is your home now, Elessar. Starting on your path to become a Warder you leave all else behind. You are of the White Tower now. Your story has just begun.

 

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And so it was that Carys Aes Sedai, Sister of the Yellow Ajah and Elessar Gaidin, Borderlander-bred Warder of the White Tower, Bonded in the Light, rode slowly across one of the many magnificent arching bridges over the River Erinin connecting the island city to the mainland. Fabled Dragonmount rose in the distance and on the city walls high above them the proud banners of Tar Valon - wonderous city of the Aes Sedai - rippled strongly in the wind, as if welcoming them home.

 

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