A Bond of Emerald Grace (attn. Kathleen Sedai)

[Elessar]

.. Into Arafel: Crossing several Boundaries ..

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It was early afternoon, underneath sunny skies and a strong northern breeze, when Elessar and Kathleen passed the border separating Kandor from its Borderland neighbour Arafel. They rode slowly into the nation of Arafel, almost as if crossing this frontier boundary in the northern hills also meant crossing a line between them.

 

It was, in some ways, true.

 

In the past days, moving from one make-shift camp to another as they headed ever eastwards, the silence had grown between them and Elessar had become ever more pensive and introspective. Leandreen’s often accusing but also sometimes morose Emerald Eyes often came to him in dreams when they slept, but also sometimes during waking hours. It was becoming an emotional strain on him, one he was sure his Bondholder felt through the Bond. She gave him space and he went through the Warder’s daily motions and routines automatically and without much thought, almost as if he were lost in a spiral of guilt and sadness that he was unable to escape from. He did not know what exactly had triggered this emotional relapse, if one could call it that, but had presumed that it was the unsuccessful attempt to make up wth his father in Kandor. A small voice deep within whispered that it was something else entirely, but he shut that voice up, unwilling to go down that dark path. For whatever reason, Elessar of Kandor became a lost soul in the Northern Wilderness.

 

●

 

Following the meandering hill-paths further into Arafel, heading ever closer to Kathleen’s other Warder Nevuel, the reason for this northern journey, they rode as far as they could that day and also the next day. They spoke very little as they rode, only exchanging a few pleasantries and discussing directions on occasion, Elessar lost in his own dark thoughts and Kathleen seemingly focused on her own things. Perhaps, he thought, she was thinking about Nevuel Gaidin, it would not be surprising after all, but he did not really know. He had more than enough on his plate on his own at the moment.

 

Finally, as the sun was setting in a chill northern sky,  they arrived at a small village - Seridha - situated in partial hill country in western Arafel and settled down for the evening, resting at an old inn called ‘The Northern Hammer’. Elessar saw to their horses at the back of the inn, handing a goggle-eyed, lanky Arafellin stable-boy a coin as he headed inside the building. The innkeeper, a dark-haired man - of middle years - with Arafellin bells in his hair-, stout of build and hard of eye, seemed to Elessar  the very stereotype of an Arafellin man, who were known to be a fiery people with strange ideas about honour and debts. The innkeeper was abrupt in his replies, somewhat impatient and seemed not that impressed to have an Aes Sedai guest, though he stayed polite on the whole and became a touch softer around the edges of his eyes after Elessar gave him one of his harder, no-nonsense looks. The Warder carried their travelling bags to the floor above and soon they were upstairs in their rooms, Elessar’s smaller room next to his Sedai’s larger one. They met downstairs for a meal and some entertainment a little later, after a welcome bath and a change of clothes.

 

●

 

The gleeman, wearing a cloak made of many colourful patches as befitted his profession, was from neighbouring Shienar from his looks - the Warder recognized the clean-shaven look and the hair in a topknot typical of men from that nation - , one of the younger gleemen Elessar had seen on this northern journey of theirs, but he seemed adequate at his craft at least for this out-of-the-way Arafellin hill village. He played the flute, to modest applause, but when he lay the flute down and started singing, telling his gleeman’s stories in his more than decent voice, the local Arafellin men - and the travelling visitors - showed their appreciation.

 

One of his ancient songs, ‘The Ten Thousand Bells of Shol Arbela’, Elessar had never heard before. It told the tale of Shol Arbela, the Arafellin capital in the north and of the Arafellin people’s pride in this city. Elessar and Kathleen, from their table at the back of the common room, listened to the story of Shol Arbela with great interest, the Gaidin forgetting for a moment his inner unrest, their own almost tangible silence broken by the words of song and history.

 

 

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‘The Ten Thousand Bells of Shol Arbela’

 

Far in the North, so the story Tells

There is the City of Ten Thousand Bells

The Pride of Arafel, a Jewel to Behold

Seat of the King, a Fortress of Old

 

Close to the Blight, a Shield against the Dark

Ever ready, to light the Northern Spark

Connected to East and West across the Ground

Linking the city also South, Tar Valon-Bound

 

Arafellin men and women, Bells in their Hair

Proud of their Capital, from Hilltops they Stare

At their Man-built city, that no Ogier has Made

Through craft and sweat, the foundations were Laid

 

This largest city, where Mahira Svetanya once was Queen

First Monarch of Arafel, stronger Woman seldom Seen

Her Seat of Power, Shol Arbela was her Pride

Upon her Northern Throne, she ruled Nationwide.

 

Up through the years, Kings and Queen ruled the Land

Controlling the regions, with a very steady Hand

Never, however, free of Shadow-Threath they Dreamed

Always prepared, to the Northern skies they Screamed:

 

‘For Honor, for Pride - Shol Arbela will Fight!

Its people, its walls - are United in Might!

The Ten Thousand Bells will Ring on this Day!

When Arafel goes to war, Come what May!’

 

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Edited January 12, 2018 by Elessar

[Elessar]

.. Dreams of Darkness: 'Death of a Sedai -and- a Descent into Madness' ..

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That night, Elessar of Kandor was lost in Dreams of Darkness, re-living painful memories of the Death of His Aes Sedai -and- his momentary Descent into Madness.

 

He remembered….

 

●

 

 

PART 1: A Broken Bond

 

In that timeless period between one second and the next, the Warder-bond snapped, like a razorsharp knife slicing through the thinnest of paper, leaving only emptiness behind.

 

Of a multitude of emotions filling Elessar’s mind right then, above all he felt shock.

 

Utter and incredible shock.

 

His world came crashing down upon him.

 

He swayed where he stood above a fallen trolloc, his sword deeply embedded in the creature’s side. The Shadowspawn, a twisted blend of animal and human stock, with a wolf’s muzzle and beastly features, was huge in stature and like all his kindred had been a ferocious fighter. Though far from bright, trollocs were sly creatures as Elessar and his Sedai had experienced several times over the years. This one would reap no more havoc in the Borderlands.

 

Rage and anger swept over him then, replacing the shock, and roaring in defiance he moved like a madman, with surprising agility considering his many wounds, swinging his sword in widening arcs, clearing a path to his Sedai. He was unaware of the bodies he left behind, of the redness painting the landscape in the colour of death. All his focus was on reaching his Sedai. All his focus was on reaching her.

 

It couldn’t be.. it just couldn’t be..

 

Oh dear Creator. Noooooo!

 

Cradling her head in his arms, a moment later, wetness on his cheeks, he saw the lifeless eyes staring into nothingness, the deadly arrows protruding from her ribs.

 

Too late.The thought registered in his mind but he barely noticed it. I am too late.

 

Staring into her face, the face that had laughed with him so many times during their travels, the face that had scolded him at times, the face that had set him in his place when he had overstepped himself but which had always looked upon him with respect and friendship, he saw that he hardly recognized her now. It was almost as if this was some other woman. Almost as if this was a nightmare from which he would soon awaken. But he knew better. Even now, on the brink of insanity and a path into blackness, he knew.

 

Oh Leandreen.. I am so sorry.

 

So sorry.

 

The bitter irony of it all was that they had chanced upon this group of trollocs by accident there in the foothills north-east of the Arafel city of Shol Arbela. On their way toward northern Shienar, on a mission for the White Tower, they had stumbled upon the creatures and battle had arisen. Elessar had felt the taint of the Dark One from a way off, as Warders were gifted with through the bond to a Sister, but partially distracted by something Leandreen had commented on he had misinterpreted the direction of the danger - a fatal mistake - and before he could assess the situation further it was too late. Leandreen was a proud and capable Sister of the Battle Ajah and had fought valiantly against the Shadowspawn, shielded but on the attack, felling a huge number of them with the One Power just as others fell to Elessar’s deadly sword-action. A momentary lapse of concentration due to exhaustion, however, was enough for her to let her defences down for just a second and three poisoned arrows found their mark in her ribs.

 

Oh Leandreen.. Forgive me..

 

Sadness was replaced by grief for Elessar.

Utter grief and a feeling of desolation.

 

Grief quickly turned to anger. At himself for failing her. At the Shadow. At the World.

 

Anger turned to hatred and all the blackness buried deep within him erupted in a roaring scream of incredible fury.

 

His eyes blacked over.

 

And laying his Sedai carefully to rest on the bloodied ground, he picked up his sword and turned to face the remaining half-standing trollocs off to his left. There was death in his dark eyes and death in his blows as the whirlwind that had once been Elessar Gaidin threw himself into the Shadowspawn with no regard for his own safety.

 

He was a harbinger of death.

 

 

●

 

 

PART 2: Descent into Madness

 

Death!

 

He was balancing precariously on a thin line between light and darkness. He was walking a tightrope.

 

Echoes of insanity reverberated in his mind. He was lost to himself and to the world around him. All that mattered to him was to avenge her death.

 

Death!

 

He hardly remembered who he was anymore. Except perhaps when he had his good spells. Day and night became one long blur as he travelled relentlessly toward the Blight. He almost shivered with eagerness, focusing his anger and purpose into what lay ahead. He would ride to Shayol Ghul if need be and there he would bring forth his wrath and take as many with him as he could into the realms of death.

 

He would have his vengeance.

 

For Leandreen.

 

 

Though much else came and went in his conscience thought in those long days as he travelled ever northwards, her name was a constant. Her name was a rock in a churning sea of madness.

 

Leandreen.

 

 

He did not encounter anyone in those first days of his journey. He almost wished he had. He wanted someone or something to strike at, a minion of the Shadow to make pay for what had happened. He wanted his vengeance. It was all that he had left.

 

At night came the hallucinations. At night came the madness, slipping under his skin and into his mind like a dark wraith. He saw the beastly, unworldly figures crawling toward him out of the darkness and struck at the shadows with his sword, almost cackling with glee, knowing his sanity was slipping but not caring. His dark eyes were deep wells of fury as he screamed his defiance at the shadows.

 

They never answered back. And after a while they were gone, insubstantial ghosts disappearing into the mists as if they had never been there.

 

At other times, whispering to himself, almost without volition, soft words passed his lips. Incoherent words and sentences. Whispers that caressed his face. Whispers that tore at him all the way to his soul. Whispers out of time.

 

Whispers.

 

 

I said I would die for you. And I will.

 

No, it’s not too late. I will save you!

 

I promised you, my life before yours.

 

My life before yours.

 

Yours.

 

I will bring them down. For you!

 

I will.

 

My life before yours.

 

It is my duty.

 

Duty.

 

I am too late. Oh my Sedai, I am too late!

 

Too late.

 

 

In more lucid moments, memories from his past washed over him, almost making him dizzy with their clarity.

 

“Dad, I want to become a Warder when I am older”, said the 15-year old Kandori boy.

 

He was fairly tall for his age with bluish-black hair and dark eyes, and one could see in the way he held himself some of the man he would one day become. His eyes were the fairly innocent eyes of youth, however, eyes that would in the years to come harden with the harsh realities of life and death.

 

“That sounds a very good idea, my son”, said Elessar’s father with pride. “You are a Borderlander, a fighter at heart, and we stand together against the Shadow. The Warders will make an excellent soldier out of you I am sure.”

 

Smiling, he added:”Always respect Tar Valon, son. Those soft fools in the south have forgotten the danger, but we remember, we in the Borderlands. We stand ready. Respect Aes Sedai and stand proudly against the Shadow!”

 

----

 

“My son”, said his mother with concern but also pride in her eyes, “you are grown enough to decide for yourself. But remember, sometimes one can push oneself too hard. Don’t do that, my son. Never forget who you are.”

 

Don’t destroy yourself, my son, she whispered softly to herself, believing wrongly that he had not heard, as she hugged him tight. Don’t let it all destroy you.

 

----

 

Confusion and darkness everywhere.

Past and present intertwined.

 

Mother!?

 

 

A scream in his soul makes a shiver run down his back.

 

 

Mother, I will save you!

 

I will save you!

 

 

The stench of death, the cries of those being slaughtered crashes into him.

 

Memories.

 

 

No, it is happening again!

 

I must stop them!

 

No, it is too late!

 

Never too late!

 

Never!

 

 

Hacking into the trollocs he is death reincarnated.

The blood flowing makes him grin evilly in satisfaction.

 

 

Justice.

 

Then silence.

 

Silence.

 

 

Leandreen, are you there?

 

My life before yours.

 

Before yours.

 

Always.

 

I promise.

 

 

Brushing tears of rage and loss from his face, Elessar broke camp in early morning and saddled Stormbreaker, his black stallion. His dark eyes now burned with almost feverish intensity as he stared northward into the Blight. He was a powerfully built man after many years of physical training and exertions in service to his Sedai, a dangerous warrior and swordfighter at any time and even more so now that he had no care for his own safety. He knew that his death lay at the end of this journey. His brown-green Warder’s cloak, which made him blend into the surroundings, was dirt-stained and bloody but he paid it no attention as his gaze was fixed on the horizon.

 

I will avenge her death.

I will avenge all their deaths.

 

Elessar of Kandor was on a mission of death and nothing would stop him.

 

Nothing.

 

 

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PART 3: A Darkness of the Soul

 

The darkness of the night matched the darkness of Elessar’s soul.

 

He had entered the Blight a few days before, that nightmarish land north of the Borderlands which was corrupted by the nearby influence of the Lord of the Grave, the Shepherd of the Night, the Dark One. It was a region where all the vegetation was toxic and home to insects that could cause a hideously painful demise. There were other dangers there too and any traveller had to tread carefully in this land to avoid a quick and sudden death.

 

Death was what Elessar sought, in fact as many deaths as possible.

His own would be among them.

But he could not die before he had his vengeance.

 

Though walking a thin line between sanity and madness, reason and rashness, he was not so lost in himself that he did not take some care of his movements. As the days and hours had lengthened his outward fury had subsided somewhat, changing from a frenzy of ideas and confusion and hate and grief into a single-minded fiery dark purpose of how he would inflict as much damage as he possibly could when he brought his wrath upon the Shadow. For his wrath was not gone, though it lay dormant inside him now, like an animal of prey. Waiting. For release.

 

They will pay.

And that will be the end of it.

 

At night, in that half-awake, half-sleep state Warders were so practiced at achieving, never losing total vigilance even when resting, his thoughts went often to his many years protecting his Sedai. Other times he thought of his years in Warder-training, and how hard he had worked to excel, to become the best. He had worked relentlessly toward that end.

 

But still I failed you, my Sedai, he thought with anger and bitterness as he clenched his fist, staring darkly into the night.

 

For that, forgive me. But I will avenge you!

 

The following day he saddled Stormbreaker early and set off toward the north at a gallop. His bottled up rage threathened to erupt as he raced across the desolate lands, Death’s Messenger. His eyes had become almost feverish again and he felt his tight reign on his sanity begin to slip. Not that far now, he thought to himself, trying to focus his anger. Soon now. The trail he had found a few days before had been clear and he thought it unlikely the trollocs kept lookouts. Why should they? Only madmen travelled these lands of death and none survived long. When he overtook them he would bring death to them all. His eyes intensified and his inner fire blazed.

 

To death!, a scream came from within his soul. To death and vengeance!

 

He was riding at a hard gallop, just topping a small rise and still half a mile behind the band of unsuspecting trollocs, his body almost trembling in anticipation of what was to come, when abruptly a heavy shadow came at him from the side, brushing his horses’ flank, making him swerve in his path and forcing him to slow down. Only as Elessar swung his mount around and, with death in his eyes, brought out his sword to strike did he see that it was another mounted rider. The rider hailed him but it took him a moment to register what was being said. He did not lower his blade but frowned with suspicion at the woman, for it was a woman rider who faced him from across her own mount. And not just a woman rider, but an Aes Sedai. There was no doubt.

 

Her commanding words echoed in his turmoiled mind.

 

“Halt! Gaidin, halt!”

 

 

●

 

 

He woke with a start, echoes of painful memories and the darkness he carried within fresh in his mind, his heart pumping as he tried to get his bearings. He saw soft light from the moon coming in through the window of his room in the inn and breathed more easily. Sweat beading on his forehead he tried to reach the ‘Flame and the Void’, the inner calm he often cloaked himself in as a Warder, but it was somehow beyond reach. That happened sometimes, when Elessar lacked the focus necessary for that calm. A moment of frustration but he put it aside.

 

He closed his eyes, slowly forcing the dark thoughts from his mind. Leandreen’s death had haunted him recently and his everlasting guilt for not saving her, as had been his promise, and as had been his foremost duty in life, shamed him down to the bottom of his soul. Madness had enveloped him after her death, a kind of surreal reality which for a long time he had struggled to face, but he had not succeeded in avenging her in the Blight, thereby also killing himself as had been his intention. Another Aes Sedai had intervened. She had ‘saved him’ from ‘throwing his life away in a futile attack against the Shadow’. She had Bonded him and helped him on his path to recovery, to sanity. She had given him a second chance.

 

Carrain.

 

Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah.

 

Oh dear Carrain. Gone also, in Service to the Light.

 

So much death. He thought with great sorrow. So many sacrifices made.

 

Laying his head back on the pillow Elessar relaxed, or attempted to at least. It was difficult. His mind worked overtime, a pair of very familiar Emerald Eyes boring into his Soul, his many memories from years as a Bonded Warder pushing to the forefront. After a long while, however, he succeeded and slowly drifted into an uneasy but dreamless sleep.

 

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Edited January 12, 2018 by Elessar

[Elessar]

.. Caught in Winds of Change ..

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Elessar of Kandor rode southwards, under a beautiful sunfilled Northern sky, intent on reaching the next Arafellin village before sunset. Stormbreaker, sensing his master’s mood, practically flew down the hillpaths and small valley-roads, dustmotes settling in their wake, almost as if  they too were Caught in Winds of Change.

 

The final destination was Tar Valon, a long way south. First though the Arafellin village of Ferhela beckoned several leagues to the south-east.

 

Elessar, centered in the Flame and the Void, focused on the journey ahead and did not let his mind dwell on what had happened a couple of days before. He could not totally escape from the.. change .. within though. From what had happened.

 

It had been done. His Warder-Bond had been released. Their journey together had ended.

 

He could no longer feel the presence of Kathleen Aes Sedai, his former Bondholder, in his head.

 

Pushing the implications to the back of his mind, Elessar rode on, his colour-shifting Warder’s cloak flapping behind him as he and Stormbreaker raced down the paths ahead.

 

●

 

He stopped at inns in villages at times but also camped out in the wild on many an occasion, following roads that became ever wider and more populated as he neared the towns and large villages that were situated in the region north of Tar Valon and south of Arafel. Speed was not essential per se, but he wanted to get to his destination as quickly as possible and so he rode his war-mount hard but not too hard, he did not want to exhaust his faithful black stallion and companion on this long journey home.

 

●

 

One late night in his room at a local inn, several days ride north of Tar Valon, he was lost in dreams, re-living the ‘nightmare’ of his first Sedai Leandreen’s death many years before and its harsh aftermath. Again, as so many times before, he woke covered in sweat, eyes wide, body shivering, wondering if he ever was to totally recover from all his guilt and inner pain.

 

Your soul is burdened by Emerald Grace, a whisper had echoed in his mind. I know, he had answered the darkness of the night. But it is part of me, and I can’t seem to escape it.

 

He had gotten little rest that night.

 

●

 

Many days later, on a clear and sunny but windy afternoon, Elessar of Kandor, unbonded Warder of the North, rode slowly across the majestic bridge between the mainland and the island, and then through the Gate of Tar Valon, passing many travellers heading to and fro the City of Aes Sedai.

 

A new Chapter in his Warder-life was beginning.

 

High above, on the high city walls, the proud banners of Tar Valon rippled strongly in the wind, he saw, almost as if welcoming him home.

 

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Edited January 12, 2018 by Elessar