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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Elessar

RP - LEGACY
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  1. .. A World of Colours .. ►▼◄ A scream ripped the darkness. A second scream. A ripple in the air, as if the air was turning in on itself, a reflection of deep darkness as a Shadow materialized where nothing had been before. As if answering a call, the Draghkar shrieked in the sky. It cast back and forth in very long arcs leaving little doubt that it was hunting. Another shriek that sent shivers down the running woman’s spine. Her blue eyes were wide with terror, her shoulders sagging wearily, her torn and bloodied dress covering a torn and bloodied body as she ran frantically among the trees in this inhospitable dark forest. Death was calling for her - she felt it in her bones and in her soul - and she was trying desperately to evade it. ● She ducked down under a low branch which seemed to grab for her, swept around a tree trunk that stood ominously in her way, almost stumbled as she came upon a huge solitary rock among the undergrowth but kept going, fleeing for her life. Suddenly the air shimmered a few paces ahead of her, the darkness becoming denser and a Shadow appearing. She came to an abrupt stop, sinking to her knees on the hard ground, her elbow slamming painfully into some sharp twigs, as her face turned upward in terror. Amaranth stared coldly down at the bloodied woman, the traitor. His dark cloak with the symbols running down the sleeves glimmered slightly but almost became one with the surrounding darkness. His violet eyes gleamed harshly and in them the woman saw her death. “Great Master”, she stuttered, gasping for breath, fear making her wet herself, “please forgive me!” But there was no forgiveness for betrayal of the Great Lord. The Chosen looked down at her only with scorn. And then he channeled, powerful impeccably controlled minuscule weaves of Saidin, the blood veins in the woman’s body rupturing all at the same time, her harrowing death scream mired in blood and gore, melting slowly into the darkness of the night. ● Stormbreaker tossed his head with a soft whicker, nearly pulling the reins from Elessar’s hands as an arrow flew past the horse’s head within an inch of hitting. The warhorse lunged against the Warder’s restraint but then Elessar wheeled the stallion about and shouting to Calia on her grey mare off to his right he headed for the trees in the near distance, pushing Stormbreaker into a fast canter, seeing out of the corner of his eye that his Aes Sedai followed. Another arrow barely missed him, then a third whooshed by and a hundred paces further along he cursed inside as he threw himself from the horse as they came up to the group of trees and drew his sword almost in the same motion. Calia was only a couple seconds behind him as she too dismounted swiftly and crept down beside him. “Any idea who it can be?” She asked calmly though he felt through the bond that she too felt some concern. “No idea”, Elessar replied, a touch of anger in his voice, his gaze sweeping meticulously over the terrain before them. “Damned if I know”. He was mostly angry at himself for not having sensed the danger. The journey west from Caemlyn toward Four Kings which had begun a few days earlier had been uneventful, smooth riding in lovely sunny weather, and he had grown lax. There had been surprisingly few people on the main road, some carriages and farmers and a handful travellers but little else, and he had come to believe there was no danger about - and would be none until they got further south - and so he had skipped riding back the road to check on this leg of the journey as he usually did. A foolish mistake and one not worthy of an experienced Warder. ● Trying to keep his anger under wraps, though seeing in Calia’s blue eyes that she felt it through the bond, he studied the small brush and empty field before them scrupulously. Nothing moved and there was only silence except for the chirping of some sparrows and finches in the trees above them. His eyes tightening, the Gaidin kept gazing at the field. The wind slowly began to pick up and ruffled the leaves on the branches above them. Elessar half-turned to ensure their horses remained nearby and was pleased to see that they did. Turning back to the still silent field he considered their options. There were brigands in the forests and hills from the Borderlands in the north to Tear in the south, outlaws who would try their luck with anyone. But the Warder believed this was only one man or two at most. Otherwise he believed they would have followed them into the trees. Did they know that they were trying to rob an Aes Sedai? Not likely, Elessar thought. But then again, what if these were enemies out to get the Warder and Sedai? What if they were Darkfriends who somehow knew of their important mission and intended to make a stop to it? Could that be possible? It did not seem likely to him but he could not disregard any possibility. “There is no one out there”, he whispered to Calia as he kept scrutinizing the field. “Or they are very well hidden and very patient.” His bondholder nodded silently, keeping her thoughts to herself. The seconds passed as they lay in wait. Finally, Elessar whispered anew. “Brigands perhaps..”, he began softly. “Though I don’t think there are many, perhaps only one or two”. He paused before adding, even more softly, “But.. it could also be Darkfriends.” He met Calia’s gaze squarely, his dark eyes hardening. “Has the Shadow learned of our mission? Have we been betrayed?” ● The sun was setting in Ebou Dar and the city was enveloped in Twilight. Serehstra Sedai looked at her own reflection in the mirror and sighed. The necklace with the red ruby around her neck which usually made her smile seemed dull now. Her long light-brown hair curled down her back and her blue eyes stared back at her questioningly. Her face looked tired, worn and mirrored what she was feeling deep inside. Disappointment. She had been in Ebou Dar a good while now, the days passing like raindrops, one after another in an endless sequence, and she still had not found the answers she had been looking for. Rumours were spreading through the city of a danger in the Aryth Ocean - some said an enemy fleet was coming, some said the Sea Folk were massing, some said the Panarch of Tarabon was sending warships from Tanchico to intercept illegal traders and pirates, and some even said monsters of the sea were crippling sea vessels - but nothing could be substantiated. The local Red Ajah’s Eyes and Ears knew no more than she. And Voreyna would be of no help, especially after their last meeting and the spiteful words Serehstra had thrown in her face as she was leaving. She half-regretted being so hostile but the Gray Sister’s condescending and unhelpful attitude had ticked her off. Not that it was certain that Voreyna had any more useful information about what was happening in the Aryth Ocean, far from it. I need to find out, she thought as she brushed her long hair for a long while. But how? What must I do? ● Half-turning to gaze out the window of her second-floor room, seeing the yellow-orange sun disappearing in the horizon, somehow made her think of the sunsets of her youth, a century and more ago in Cairhien. As a little girl, sunsets had always thrilled her. The beautiful warm sun falling in the sky, ever so slowly, to disappear into what she felt sure must be the ocean far away. For where else could the shining sun go? Her parents had smiled warmly at her words and fascination with the sun, privately amused by their daughter’s infatuation. Years later Serehstra had come face to face with another Sun, one that was within her, its warmth giving her the Light she had always craved for. A small, nostalgic smile came upon her lips at the memory. Putting the hairbrush aside, after a final glance in the mirror she moved to the bedside table in the corner of the room and started writing in the small notebook she always had on her person. It was dark outside by the time she finished. When she went to bed later that night, faint sounds of merriment drifting up from the inn’s Common Room two floors below, she still had no idea what her next step would be. ● Serehstra woke abruptly two hours later, with a sharp dagger pressed against her throat! ● “Lady Mehrina”, the Royal Advisor to the Queen of Andor beckoned, “Darihna Sedai is ready to meet you now.” An Andoran Noble, the grey in his hair made him look older than he was but he did not mind. Distinguished, was the word his dear wife used when describing the way he looked. He had upturned moustaches, a small nose, somewhat pale skin and there was an almost perpetual smile on his face. Sadhyn Redhan had been Royal Advisor to the Queen for many years and he performed his duties to perfection. The Aes Sedai advisor in Caemlyn, Darihna Sedai of the White Ajah, had the Queen’s ear, he knew, but deep inside he was confident that his advice was followed in most circumstances. Who else knew as much about political intrigue in Andor as he did, after all? None, in his mind. Walking down the corridor on the west wing of the palace, he wondered who this Lady was. As far as he knew, she was not from any of the Andoran Noble families. And she was not an Aes Sedai. He had seen enough Sisters over the years to recognize the ageless face of a Sedai. Even so, Darihna Sedai had agreed to meet her and so he presumed she was of some importance. A beautiful woman, tall, dark haired and with a face women would kill for, she followed his footsteps down the corridor, her pale green dress and regal stance making her glide across the floor. Finally, they arrived at a door near the end of the hallway and the Royal Advisor knocked three times. A voice from inside bade him enter and he pressed the door handle and went inside, indicating that the Lady wait. A few moments later he reappeared and said she could enter. When she had closed the door behind her, Sadhyn headed back to his own chamber in the east wing. “Lady Mehrina”, said the White Sister with feigned politeness, as the regal looking woman entered the chamber and met her gaze. “Darihna Aes Sedai”, replied the lady smoothly giving the barest minimum of a respectful nod. Darihna’s eyes tightened slightly but then her face was Aes Sedai smooth again. “Please do sit”. She indicated the chair opposite her across from the table and Mehrina seated herself, smoothing her skirts. The Aes Sedai studied the woman before her. She had the proud bearing of a Noble Woman, but did not belong to any of the Andoran Noble Houses as far as she knew. The woman had dark long hair and a stunningly beautiful face only marred by a small scar on one cheek. Her dress was beautiful too but showing more cleavage than Darihna thought proper. Merihna stared back at the Sister as if measuring her. Darihna saw strength in those dark eyes, power of resolve, but she had nothing to worry about. This woman could not channel; if she could, the Aes Sedai would have known instantly. So she was not a threat. Darihna had invited her for a talk based on recommendations from some local Nobles, though she could not quite remember who, though that did not matter right now. They each waited, eying each other, to see who would speak first. ● Merihna stared back at the Aes Sedai hiding the mischievous smile she felt inside. The Sister had the ageless look of her kind, and the short blonde hair that framed her handsome face suited her. The woman’s eyes were blue-ish in colour with a touch of grey and they were studying her closely. Finally, the Aes Sedai spoke, opening the conversation. “I was told that you had some.. valuable information”, she began smoothly. “Of value to the Queen.” Merihna nodded, a small smile now on her lips. “Yes, there are things I know. Of value.” She said nothing more, waiting for the Sister to ask. The Sister’s eyes tightened slightly. She did not like having to ask again. But finally, she did. “And this information, what exactly is it that you know?” “I know many things..” Mehrina replied. Her stare became shrewd. “For instance, that you keep many secrets from your Queen.” The Aes Sedai’s face betrayed nothing of her thoughts but there was a gleam in her eyes that told Mehrina her guess had been right. “She is not my Queen”, the Sister said smoothly. “I serve at the pleasure of the Amyrlin.” Her eyes tightened further. “If you have no real information”, she added, “I don’t see..” She was interrupted as Mehrina started to chuckle. “Oh Darihna, Darihna..” She began, her face very amused. “I know you do not want me to tell the Queen of your deepest secrets.” “Especially your deepest secret of all.” Mehrina paused momentarily, intrigued by the puzzled but also weary look on the Aes Sedai’s face. “Namely that.. you are Black Ajah, a servant of the Dark One.” ● A shocked expression came upon the White Sister’s face and her mouth fell open. “Whaat!!?” Her Aes Sedai composure was gone and she half-raised herself from her chair, stunned. “What lies are you..” she stuttered, trying in vain to regain her composure. Her face was darkening by the second but she was too flabbergasted to complete a full sentence. Lady Merihna looked at the Aes Sedai’s horrified face and grinned wickedly inside. The accusation had been a lie but she had enjoyed the Sister’s reaction. “Oh Darihna”, she said very smoothly, “shut that gaping mouth of yours. There is no reason for panic. I have not told the Queen. Yet.” The Aes Sedai’s mouth would not close and anger now shone in her eyes. Anger and disbelief. She was unable to do anything, however, because just then - impossibly! - a shield slammed between the One Power inside her and her ability to draw from it! Her eyes almost popped out of her head in utter shock! and all she was able to do was mumble.. “Impossible!!” She tried to reach Saidar again but it was as if a wall stood between her and the One Power. She knew she would never be able to breach that wall, never in a hundred years. Slumping in her chair, the White Sister’s face lost all colour as she studied the lady seated opposite her as if watching a deadly viper. Impossible kept echoing in her mind. ● Finally, she stuttered. “Those are all lies. The Light of the Creator is in my heart.” A shiver came upon her body and she almost sobbed. “You are Aes Sedai”, she said accusingly. “Somehow you are able to do what you do. At the least I deserve a trial before my peers.” Qariahna stared back at the Sister with dark amusement. Then her eyes hardened. “I am no Aes Sedai”, she spat fiercely. The White Sister’s eyes looked disbelieving. “Then who are you?” She asked finally. The Chosen drew herself up, her face proud in its cold beauty. “I have been known by many names”, she said smoothly, triumphantly. “Most you will not know. But the one you may recognize”, she added, her dark eyes sparkling, “is.. Qariahna.” Darihna’s mouth opened again in complete disbelief and now there was terror in her eyes. One of the Forsaken!!? It could not be.. but there was something about this beautiful woman, her regal bearing, her cold pride, that made her believe her. Even so, ancient doubt lingered.. "The Dark One and all of the Forsaken are bound in Shayol Ghul..” she began but stopped as a broad triumphant grin came upon Qariahna’s face. “Were bound..” she replied. “But no longer”, she added with great satisfaction. Touching the purple hairpin she wore, a powerful Angreal, she let the moment linger as the Aes Sedai stared perplexed at her. She had warded the room, inverting the weaves so as to not be detectable, as soon as she had entered so the Sister’s screams would not be heard by anyone. Masking her ability to channel had made this much easier and it was one of the ancient weaves Qariahna had made the best use of over the years. Very, very handy indeed. “This secret, for now, is not well known.” The Chosen said squarely. “Why am I telling you, you might wonder?” She saw the Aes Sedai wet her lips. “Because, my dearest Darihna Aes Sedai of the White Ajah, you will soon be dead. Very soon indeed.” The Sister of the White Tower felt Air pushing in on her from all sides and she was unable to move an inch. The pressure increased on her chest and she found it harder to breathe. Her eyes lost all fight and resistance as well as hope as she waited for death to claim her. A Forsaken! was her last thought, terror running through her in rivulets. When death came, it was swift and almost painless - her heart just stopped beating - for which she was thankful. ● Staring at the dead body of Darihna Aes Sedai, Qariahna felt nothing. Except pleasure at having completed the task and mission the Great Lord had given her. Killing this Aes Sedai advisor to the Queen (no need for blood or gore) and thereby spreading Chaos in the land. She had to admit she had taken pleasure also from playing with the White Sister. We all need some amusement in this pale shadow of an Age, she thought to herself with a dark lopsided grin as she left the chamber behind, walked up the corridor and found the Royal Advisor. With practiced skill she placed weaves on his mind so that he would forget all that had happened this day and would even forget having ever met the Lady Mehrina. Leaving the Andoran Royal Palace behind, Qariahna walked gently through the palace gardens and none of those seeing her would ever remember her face. When she finally stepped onto the main street in the Inner City, her expensive and elegant dress making her stand out in the crowd, the large hat once again atop her head, her stance proud and regal, she looked like a Queen. ● The Twelve female figures in long white cowled tunics, decorated with strange symbols and paired with belts in shining silver, surrounded the brown-haired little girl in their midst and placed a blindfold over her awed oval eyes. She was wearing a pale blue tunic in the same style as the women but hers had a silver octagon centered on the front and had been woven of fine silk. The palace interior was one of pure white marble, thousands of small marble bricks fused together in a way that it almost looked to be one massive piece of eternal white. The shape of the central chamber was one of eight straight sides, a beautiful structure symbolizing the octagon that stood at the centre of their Order. Leading the little girl forwards, the white-clothed women slowly ascended the steps to the throne above, holding onto the girl carefully to ensure she did not stumble. Several of the women at the back started singing in soft tones, an ancient hymn which somehow seemed so familiar to the little girl. The sound permeated the chamber and a soft light started to glow from all eight sides of the octagon that formed the hall. A symbol also detached itself from the ceiling high above, a shining Star two paces wide, and floated downwards toward them. They reached the top of the stairs and placed the little girl on the throne of white marble. Smiles could be seen on several of the women’s faces; euphoric smiles, happy smiles, expressions of awe - and wonder. ● The woman who had led the small procession, a tall handsome blond-haired woman of middling years standing beside the throne, raised the hood of her white cloak and faced the other women. Her eyes were pale green and they sparkled now. “We are One”, she intoned and the other Sisters repeated the words in clear voices. “The Winds hear our Voice.” Removing the blindfold from the little girl, touching her face caressingly, the woman smiled warmly. “And You, Vayasha, are the One prophesized.” She added passionately. “You are the Octagon.” Placing a small emerald stone on the little girl’s forehead, she spoke words of Resonance and the green stone, delicately cut with eight equal sides, now seemed a part of the skin. All the women knelt and bowed before her, their white robes touching the marble floor reverently. The Chamber sang with white Radiance - and the Star above stopped its descent and remained positioned ten feet above the throne. Sandana’s eyes Watered in Delight - and her Smile was as Warm as the Sun. ● Staring awestruck at the light that streamed from the middle of the black door there on the otherworldly plain, the woman hesitated again. With every fibre of her being she wanted to open that door.. reaching for it again in her mind.. but she dared not. She believed she knew what was on the other side. Or at least she suspected for no one knew for certain. And she wanted to see.. so deeply that her hunger for it took her breath away.. But something inside her stopped her. Perhaps it was survival instinct. Perhaps something else. But the silent voice of caution broke through her enthralled being and she took a step back. And another step. The wind which had come out of nowhere seemed to recede and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks disappeared almost as if it had never been. The green sky above, unnatural in every way but somehow fitting to this strange place, pressed down on her and the intermittent flashes of silver light became bolder and more ominous. Gazing upward in wonder but also some confusion her eyes were drawn yet another time toward the black door which now seemed farther away. Had she moved? She could not tell. The light coming from the door seemed to gradually recede too until it was all lost in blackness. She did not have time to think, because just then colours of all kinds swirled again inside her mind like raging storms and she was drawn into somewhere else.. another time and place.. in a beautiful moment of transition. ● When she opened her eyes again, the radiance of the light gradually disappearing from her vision, she saw that she was back in the cottage, the fire still burning and the lights streaming out of the windows into the darkness without. She was seated by the old oak table and in her hand the Karanth blazed like a star, the soft buzzing sound of before remaining. She stared at the ancient circular object for a long time, her dark eyes wide with wonder. The mysterious symbols running down its side and dark brown surface glinted as if powered from within. She wished she knew how to control it but she did not. It acted on its own, sometimes haphazardly, and however much she willed it to take her back to that plain with the mysterious door it was to no avail. Finally, she gave up and placed the Karanth on the table before her, running a hand through her long brown hair, her eyes tightening. The object soon lost its radiance and the buzzing sound went away. Letting go of Saidar, she felt the loss she always did when not holding onto the One Power. As always she was tempted to hold onto it at all times but she had learned of the dangers long ago and knew that the seduction could destroy her if she was not careful. Even so the loss lingered as she kept staring at the mysterious object for a long time, craving to learn its deepest secrets. Oh, they had studied the Karanth at the Collam Daan in V'saine. She remembered it well. The great university, with its silver and blue domes whose architecture was overshadowed only by the Sharom that floated overhead, had had scholars of brilliance who had spent years studying ancient objects. As had she, the famous University Lecturer and scholar Ariahna Herahl Themen, but often with little success. All they knew about the Karanth was that it was an object from an even earlier Age, with hidden properties, a thing of mystery but of great value. It had been hidden away when war broke out in the world, the Great War which ended in what others would call the Breaking of the World, and certain prophecies had proclaimed that it would be found again in a Time to come. Now the time was here, and she had felt its call - and found it. In this new Time and world. But she was still unable to control it and that frustrated her. This world was a pale shadow of what had once been, as her memories and dreams of the past told her time and again, but it was the world she inhabited and a world she meant to succeed in. The.. others.. had their plans and schemes, of that she was aware. Let them have their power games, she thought to herself for the hundredth time, I will work in the shadows where they cannot see. ● As dawn broke over the small cottage in the dense forest in southern Arafel, the sun beginning its long journey toward midday, she prepared herself for her next task. Her multi-coloured dress shimmered now, empowered by the light of Saidar, and it was impossible to see her facial features, the colour of her hair, or any details of her attire. It was just as she wanted it. Cloaking herself in colours. With a small wave of her hand, the air before her shimmered, almost as if in symmetry with her dress. Her dark eyes sparkled with determination. She smiled but it was a wicked smile, one that spoke of danger. One that spoke of a predator. A Chosen, she had been known by many names over the Ages, but the one she had taken for herself pleased her the most. Erandel ▀▄
  2. .. Existence is All there Is .. ►▼◄ A curl of smoke was rising from the stone chimney. A vagrant gust of wind made the leaves on the surrounding trees tremble in the darkness of the night. Light streamed through the windows of the cottage, slivers of white-yellow breaking the shadows without. Inside, the lone figure of a woman dressed in a multi-coloured silk outfit leaned across a wood table gazing excitedly at an object which hovered a few inches above the table top. The strange hand-sized circular object had mysterious symbols running down its side and a dark brown surface. A shining light surrounded the Karanth and there was a soft buzzing sound in the air. The woman reached eagerly for the object with both hands, whispering words that were hardly audible.. and as they touched the Karanth, a brilliant light shone forth in every direction! She gasped, feeling euphoria as the radiance streamed into her mind and body - and the object drew her into its warm embrace! Colours of all kinds swirled inside her mind like raging storms and she forgot to breathe in her thrilling excitement. The beautiful, almost otherworldly moment seemed to last forever.. until finally her vision cleared. A coastal plain now stood before her and she could hear waves crashing against the rocks far below. She brushed the tears that had come unbidden to her eyes and gazed upward at a sky that was not normal. It was green the colour of emerald and with no sun.. and small flashes of silver light were seen intermittently. Shifting her gaze to the plain again, she blinked.. and then saw the door standing twenty or so paces before her. It was black as midnight with a golden door handle. ● She could not pull her eyes away from the door. It beckoned. When she suddenly stood before the door - had it moved to stand before her? - her eyes widened in wonder. Holding her breath, she carefully reached for the golden door handle. Just as her fingertip touched the handle a wind seemed to rise out of nowhere. She hesitated and drew her hand back, casting a cautious glance around. Nothing seemed to have changed except for the wind. Turning back to face the door again she reached for the door handle for the second time but something made her stop. Taking a step back, she studied the door intently for several moments, hands resting at her side. When a silver light suddenly tore through the blackness of the door, she gasped out loud! ● Serehstra Sedai walked purposefully into the Tarasin Palace. The light shone on the marble floor as she glided past the two royal guards hardly giving them a glance. She looked regal in her pale red dress with the crimson overcoat and a Red shawl and her ageless face was smooth showing no emotion. Inside she was far from calm though. The Eyes and Ears had confirmed the rumours that Darkfriends had taken over a couple Noble Houses in her homeland Cairhien and it infuriated her! She had wanted to fight the Shadow ever since she had become an Aes Sedai, almost choosing the Green Ajah at her raising but selecting the Red instead to ensure men who could channel would be taken care of before they break the world and do the Shadow’s errand. That the Shadow was spreading, of that there was no doubt in her mind. Besides that, she was still angry at Voreyna’s lack of help. The Gray Sister, the Tower’s representative in Ebou Dar, had been unenthusiastic to say the least when Serehstra had approached her several days before. Her manner had been haughty and she had seemed annoyed that Serehstra was there at all. Relations between Ajahs had always been somewhat strained in the White Tower, each faction feeling superior to the others and Sisters seldom mingling with Sedai from other Ajahs (though there were some exceptions). Away from the White Tower, however, Serehstra had always believed Aes Sedai should try to be helpful to one another. It was a matter of respect and integrity. They were Aes Sedai, after all. Walking down the corridor, ignoring the expensive art on the walls and the marble statues in the corners, she considered how to deal with the Gray Sister this time. There were also dangerous rumours to consider, the ones which spoke of dangers from across the sea. Serehstra had dismissed those rumours but her Eyes and Ears had indicated that something was amiss in the Aryth Ocean. Voreyna had to have more news in this regard and Serehstra intended to press her on the issue until she was told. Touching her Red shawl, she turned a corner and stopped before a door on the left. It was the Gray Sister’s chamber in the palace. Making sure her face was Aes Sedai smooth, she knocked softly. There was a shuffling of feet inside and then the door opened. A tall woman, brown of hair and with almost black eyes, high cheekbones and a pouty mouth stared back at the Red Sister. ● “Serehstra”, she said cooly with little kindness. Her eyes were piercing and her whole demenaour condescending. “Voreyna”, the Red responded in the same manner. She took in the Gray Sedai’s beige long sleeved dress which had a high neckline and, in Serehstra’s view, a rather dull look. Voreyna saw her disapproving look and her eyes hardened. Opening the door so the Red Sister could enter, she shut it behind her and turned to face the other woman. “You asked to meet me”, Voreyna said, her voice cold. “I don’t know what you think you will accomplish after our last conversation, but I will not have it said that I am hostile.” There was a touch of irony in her voice at the last part, her eyes looking very hostile indeed. “I am glad you took time away from your.. important duties to talk to me again”, Serehstra responded, her voice equally cold. Her eyes glittered. “These are dangerous times..”, she added smoothly, “and.. friends must stick together.” “Friends?” Voreyna said, raising an eyebrow. “Colleagues then”, Serehstra amended. “And Aes Sedai.” She moved across the room and pretended to be interested in an ancient painting on one wall. It showed two armies facing one another on a battlefield of old. “What exactly do you want, Serehstra?” The Gray Sister said, watching the other Sister speculatively. ● Turning at last, the Red Sister’s eyes met the other Aes Sedai’s. “The matter we spoke of last time.. I have gotten the information I needed.” She refrained from adding, no thanks to you. “But there is another matter I wish to speak of.” Serehstra’s eyes tightened. “There are rumours of a danger coming from the west.” Her voice was smooth but she stared fixedly at the other woman’s face to see if there was any reaction. “Across the Aryth Ocean.” She pursed her lips. “I wondered if you could confirm any such rumours.” Serehstra said. “Being stationed here in the far South, I am sure you would be informed if there is any credence to such rumours.” The Gray Sister stared cooly back at the other Aesa Sedai. “And why would I share any such information with you?” She replied. “If there was any information to be shared, that is.” “Is there? Or isn’t’ there?” Serehstra responded calmly but with a hint of impatience. A very haughty look came over the Gray Sister’s face. “I report to the Amyrlin.” She said, her voice even colder than before. “Not to some upstart Red who is out of her depth.” Serehstra’s eyes glittered dangerously but she kept her Aes Sedai calm. She was not going to let the other woman provoke her. At the same time, however, Serehstra had never been a weakling and she knew how to deal with impudent Sisters. “I understand”, she replied cooly. “I will find the answers myself.” She paused for a moment, a small grin coming on her lips. “But Voreyna”, she added almost as an afterthought, “you do know that the Amyrlin sent you here, as far as possible from the Tower, because she deemed you useless and best kept away from where true power and important decisions are?” Enjoying the way the Gray Sister’s mouth twitched in clear irritation at the barb and remark, Serehstra bid her a good day, her grin broadening, and left the chamber, heading resolutely down the corridors of the Tarasin Palace and then out into the Ebou Dari afternoon. ● The Oceanfold was safely moored to the dock at Tanchico. Carah din Toral Rising Wave, the Sea Folk Raker’s Sailmistress, stared at the buildings along the quay and wondered for the hundredth time when they would be able to leave. Like most Sea Folk she felt uneasy on land, having been born and bred to be on the seas, and moored like this felt just as bad. She had not walked onto the dock since their arrival several days before and had no intention to do so. Some of her crew had done so though, to get some supplies and to gather information. The ship’s Cargomaster, Khoram, had gone ashore to oversee things. He was a heavy-shouldered man with greyish hair and green eyes. With four gold rings in each ear, he was a hard man but fair. He was in charge of the defence of the ship, as well as all trade, and even the Sailmistress was hard pushed to overrule him in matters of negotiations and combat. They worked well together though, also because he was her husband of many years, her trusted life companion. Just don’t go ahead and get yourself killed among these stone dwellers, thought the Sailmistress, eyes tightening, as her gaze fell on the activity on the dock. She had never trusted people who lived their lives on land, stone dwellers as she called them, and hoped her husband would be back aboard ship soon. ● On the lower deck, Morin din Rubai Blue Wing, Windfinder of this proud Atha’an Miere vessel, stared outward at the sea, longing to be back among the blue-green waves and currents of the Aryth Ocean. Moored like this made her restless and she kept walking back and forth on deck several times a day trying to stay patient. What added to her uneasiness were the dreams. The strange dreams she had had far too often of late. The dreams that almost felt like they were not real.. even though she knew they had to be. The dreams and her mother. The mother who had been dead for years. Why was she haunted by memories and the strangest dreams? And by bad omens? Brushing her hand through her short dark hair, she closed her dark eyes and tried to push the images from her mind. Unsuccessfully as always. Placing her hands on the ship’s rail, she stared at the muddy water below and calmed herself. Embracing Saidar, feeling the glow of the One Power build inside her, she enjoyed the feeling of completeness that she always felt when holding onto the female part of the true Source. The calm within her increased and her worried frown disappeared. Channeling just so, combining weaves as she had been taught long ago, a small flame danced in her palm and the sight made her smile. As long as there was life, there was hope. And as long as she had the One Power inside her, she would always believe. ● Calia and Elessar visited several vendors in Caemlyn the next day to replenish their supplies. There was a chill in the air, cold northern winds brushing against their travelling cloaks as they made their way through the busy city streets. Shops had awnings out front sheltering tables covered with goods and the cloth-covering rippled in tune with the gusts. Vendors stood by their market stalls hawking their wares but several wore warmer coats than they normally would have this time of year. People hurried along the streets, intent on completing their errands as fast as possible, and one youngster, a scruffy-looking boy of twelve or so, blundered into people as he hurried through the crowd, earning hard looks and angry comments from some. Elessar glanced at the young boy as he hurried past, then shifted his attention to the crowd ahead. A stately carriage drawn by four black horses passed them near the central plaza, the carriage driver urging the beasts onward. For a quick moment the Warder glimpsed the passenger in the carriage, a beautiful lady wearing a large hat and an expensive-looking dress. A Noblewoman, without doubt. Then she was gone from sight, the carriage heading up the street, but he could not shake the feeling that there was something familiar about her. Shifting his thoughts to the errands they had yet to complete, he continued walking with Calia at his side as they approached a blacksmith’s shop. He wanted to get a new knife since his old one was tired and worn. Gazing admiringly at the weapons displayed beside the forge, Elessar spotted a knife which would do very nicely. The blacksmith, a huge Andoran fellow with blond hair, a beard, kind blue eyes and arms the size of logs, grinned when he saw the Warder approach. Gaidin-customers would always appreciate quality work and would always know the true value of craftmanship. ● Later that day they sat and talked for a while at a bench in one of Caemlyn’s central parks. The green grass and trees surrounded by colourful flower beds made for a peaceful place. Birds of different colours and sizes chirped happily in the trees - sparrows, finches and hummingbirds - and the sun’s warmth drove away part of the northern chill. Gazing at one of the little hummingbirds on a thin branch, a green-black bird with long, narrow bills and small, saber-like wings, it made Elessar think of the sparkling green dragon-fly that Calia had spoken of in her sweet story from her childhood. It was after he had finished his re-telling of Old Celter, a story which Calia too had found delightful. She had spoken of how she had always loved Caemlyn ever since she was a little girl. The Warder had smiled warmly when she had told her story of a child’s wonder and how it indeed was easy to believe in ancient myths and magic here in the Andoran Capital. "Especially”, she had added, leaning forward, her blue eyes sparkling, “after you've managed to catch a dragon-animal near the palace before you've even learned you can channel!" ● He had been unable to hide the surprise and wonder in his eyes. A dragon?! It was a mythical creature and he had told her before how much he enjoyed myths, legends, stories and history. He was very curious to hear the rest of this story and had been captivated as she had explained in detail. He enjoyed seeing her blue eyes sparkle as she spoke. This was a cherished memory for her from her family’s visit to Caemlyn, that was clear, and he enjoyed having her tell him a story this time. “We reached the outer wall of the palace.” She said. “It was magnificent. Everything about it awed me, the shining stone, the sheer size of it, the divine smells floating over the wall from the gardens. It was as magical as I had ever dreamed it. I imagined, right then and there, all manner of amazing and perfect instances that must surely happen in such a place!” He could hear the child-like wonder and enthusiasm of her voice in his mind, smiling anew at the memory. The dragon in the sky.. observed by a child’s eager eyes.. which had turned out to be a tiny dragon-fly of some beauty. Calia’s ‘dragon’, no less wonderful and mesmerizing because of its small size, had stayed in her mind and memory for over a century, one of those moments that stay with you forever. And it had sparked a joy in adventures which had eventually led to her becoming a Battle Ajah Sister of the White Tower. An Aes Sedai, perhaps the greatest adventure of all! Smiling at the beautiful hummingbird, the green in its feathers glinting to his eye, somehow made him think of the charm at Calia’s wrist which sometimes fluttered in a small flash of silver, and the tiniest, brightest little sparkle of green. There was beauty in a sometimes dark and Shadowy world. ● They talked some more about the journey ahead into the South. He knew from the little she had told him about her background that she came from Four Kings, a village west of Caemlyn located at the junction of the Caemlyn Road leading southwards to Lugard. It was an historic village and one which the Warder had visited before. It would be a suitable stopover place for the next part of their journey if she approved. They agreed that they would continue their journey the next day, leaving early in the morning. Heading back to the inn, walking side by side along the busy, bustling city streets of Caemlyn, they did not notice the pair of eyes watching them intently from a distance. ● The sun was just setting over the Seanchan Capital of Seandar. Kalessin sat in his living room sipping to some red wine. He was in a reflective mood. After a while he picked up the old book he had been reading earlier that day and leafed through the pages. He had read it countless times before but it never ceased to amuse him. The book title was “The Inevitability of Delusion” and it was one of the few objects he had been able to bring with him from his former life. Before the Long Sleep, as he had come to think of it. The author had been one of the most famous in the Age of Legends, an old scholar from Jalanda, and being a scholar himself, Kalessin had read all his works. As a Philosopher of renown, Kalessin had always been interested in learning, in books and theories and thoughts. And being a scholar he had always remained neutral, objective in all circumstances and debates. Right and wrong did not matter to him, all that mattered was the possibilities and how things could be interpreted. What was up and what was down, depended on one’s perspective. Thought itself was a matter of intellect but also reason and deliberation. Everyone was a product of one’s limitations. Everything was possible - as long as there were no restrictions to evolution or development. To higher thinking. To becoming.. more. ● For years he had lectured at higher institutions in V’saine and Emar Dal, speaking to students and teachers and scholars, debating various philosophical questions with vigour and logic, and he had been listened to and even respected. Those had been the good years. The years that followed had been more troublesome. His methods to understand human behaviour had been criticized, his insistence that human evolution needed a culling of the weak had been deplored. His statement and subsequent thesis that good and evil did not exist, that intent and consequence was all that mattered, that morals and ethics were excuses conjured by weak minds, resulted in him being sacked from his university positions and shunned by the scholarly community. He continued giving advice in philosophical matters on a private client basis, as well as private counselling, but he had lost much of his income and prestige and understood that changes soon needed to be made. Around that time as society was slowly breaking apart, the utopia of the world showing cracks in its foundations, he heard of the rebels who were fighting against the hierarchy and failing traditions. The rebels were called evil by many, and denounced by the Aes Sedai, but being one who neither believed in evil nor in good, just in what was and what could be, Kalessin had no problems approaching them. The promise of immortality and thereby the opportunity to study life and behaviour, thought and evolution, in all its million facets for generations to come was seductive, as was the chance to do so in an environment where his methods and theories would not be criticized or demeaned. And so he joined the rebels and left the Aes Sedai, kneeling before the Great Lord of the Dark in Shayol Ghul and promising him eternal service. To him there was no Shadow or Light, just Existence and he would serve in whatever capacity needed, with whatever tools at his disposal, to continue that existence for ages to come. As one of Those Chosen to Rule the World Forever. ● The Wind blew in her face, a strong breeze that spoke of Revelation, as Sandana stood alone on the rocky hilltop half a mile north of her home in Saldaea. She was only wearing her night clothes and her feet were bare. Something had urged her to come to this strange place, a feeling, an emotion, and though it was not logical she did not question it. The sun was setting in the west, twilight gradually cloaking the surrounding area and shadows waiting in the north. Her eyes were wide with wonder and her hair streamed behind her as she stared into the far horizon. Whispers came in her mind, soft words that she could almost but not quite understand. They were foreign, spoken in a language she did not know but felt she ought to know, and she was filled with excitement. Child. Remember! Suddenly ..the air rippled before her, as if a wave of air was pushing forwards, and she was lifted upright twelve inches from the rocky ground, arms outstretched! She giggled in childish wonder, screaming in delight as she was lifted even higher into the air, carried on the wave, feeling like a bird on the wind; light as a feather, soft as a petal, free to soar! Her eyes shone, as her vision was breaking up into a million specks of light. You are one of us. When after a while she sank back to the ground, the air around her softening, the wind slackening, the light from the sun almost gone, she had a feeling of loss but her excitement remained. Running hurriedly back through the terrain, not minding the stones, rocks and twigs she tread on, and the low tree branches she had to evade in the near-dark, she threw the door to their house open and gasping for air looked delightedly at her father. “Papa, papa!” She laughed with tears of joy. Her thrill and exuberance were such that Argam could only stare at his daughter in wide-eyed wonder. “I am going to be a Vayasha!” ▀▄
  3. .. The Daughter of the Nine Moons .. ►▼◄ Keyraa Erem Sani ne Paendrag, the Daughter of the Nine Moons and heiress to the glorious Seanchan Empire, stood with feet planted steadily on deck as the Seanchan warship flew across the waves of the Aryth Ocean into the East. She was a woman of below medium height, slim of figure, but bore herself with authority. Her personal banner with three golden leopards harnessed to an ancient war-cart stood beside her, gently moving in the sea breeze. Behind the war vessel came the rest of the ships in this massive fleet, a hundred vessels or so, and high above in the sapphire-blue sky Raken and To’raken flew parallel with the fleet. A strong wind blew steadily in her face as she studied the horizon for land. She knew it was days yet before they would make landfall, but she watched expectantly even so, curious to see the lands stolen from her ancestors. Like all Seanchan nobility she believed those lands had been stolen from Artur Hawkwing’s descendants and now they were going to reclaim them. The Corenne, the ‘Return’, the Empress had called this vital war-mission, and it was led by the Daughter of the Nine Moons and, under her, Captain-General Meiahl Kereb. He was a tall man with his white hair in a crest, its tail plaited to his shoulders. He had a creased face and green eyes, stern features and his fingernails were lacquered black. He was a brilliant battle-commander of many years and he was utterly loyal to the Royal Family. Keyraa shifted her gaze to her Captain-General and wondered if he would react badly to the additional orders she would give him later. Any battle commander needed to be able to improvise whenever necessary but she knew that Meiahl was ‘old school’ and liked to follow the strategy he had devised and gotten approval for. He will have to cope, she thought to herself as she walked down to the lower deck, passing dozen upon dozen of armed soldiers and their platoon leaders whose watchful eyes noticed everything, to stand beside one of the Sul’dam. ● The dark-haired woman was of average height and with high cheekbones in a face which was handsome rather than beautiful. Her eyes were light brown with a touch of grey in them and they were smiling now. The Damane prostrated herself on the deck, face down and arms stretched out, in respect of the Leader of The Corenne. Keyraa looked down at the short-haired woman, dressed in the traditional clothes of the Leashed Ones, and frowned. Commanding her to stand up she waited as the Damane got to her feet with a frightened look. “Don’t be afraid, Lolla”, her Sul’dam said kindly patting her on the head as if she were a pet. “You will not be harmed.” The woman nodded though her pale blue eyes still looked terrified. “Indeed”, the Daughter of the Nine Moons said earnestly. Her shaved bald head nodded softly as she studied the Damane. “Nothing to be afraid of.” Her right hand touched the woman’s cheek tenderly, her red-lacquered fingernails glinting in the afternoon sunlight. The colour of her eyes had always been a matter of some discussion in Royalty Circles in Seanchan. For while her right eye was dark brown, her left was green the colour of emerald. It gave her an exotic look, something unique which most believed befitted a future Empress of Seanchan. The Sul’dam preferred not to look at those eyes and focused on a point some place to the left of the Daughter of the Nine Moon’s face. The Damane looked anywhere but at Keyraa’s face. “You are pretty if the dirt is removed from your face”, Keyraa mumbled, then faced the Sul’dam again. “You are ensuring Lolla is well fed?” She did not wait for an answer. “It is important that she has her strength when we go ashore.” Her eyes intensified. “We are sure to meet some resistance.” “She will be ready, I promise, Highness”, the Sul’dam responded, trying to keep the fear she felt from her voice. She always felt uncomfortable before this powerful woman with the strange eyes. “You need have no doubt.” Keyraa stared at her for a long moment before nodding softly. “For your sake”, she added in a colder voice, “it better be true.” The Sul’dam bowed low in the Seanchan fashion and the Damane prostrated herself on the deck as before. Shifting her gaze to the twelve other Sul’dam-Damane pairs on board this war vessel who stood assembled together in one corner of the lower deck, the Daughter of the Nine Moons smiled cunningly inside. Though the lowest of the low in Seanchan society, ranked below even common house slaves and, in reality, akin to animals, these.. creatures are what’s going to win us this war, Keyraa thought to herself with confidence as she walked determinedly up to the deck above and across to the Captain-General. He bowed low to her and avoided her face, gazing instead at her colourful dress in many different patterns which was of the most expensive silk. The Sei’jin necklace she wore was worth more than he would earn in a lifetime, he knew, but it did not really bother him. It was the natural order of things. “We have a matter to discuss, Captain-General”, said the Daughter of the Nine Moons smoothly. Her eyes glittered, the dark brown and emerald green colours blending almost as if in revelation. ● Serehstra Aes Sedai, dressed in a pale red dress with a crimson overcoat and a Red shawl, walked the busy streets of Ebou Dar on a late morning, almost gliding along in the way of women of the White Tower, her face smooth but her emotions on fire. People moved out of her way, seeing the hardness in her blue eyes even if her ageless face, framed by her light brown long hair, showed nothing. They wanted nothing to do with Aes Sedai or their business. This suited Serehstra well, and it cleared her path whenever she had business in the city. She had arrived in the Altaran Capital several days earlier, on secret Ajah business, and had settled in an inn near the harbour that was run by a woman. Gazing through the room window on the second floor of the Southern Queen inn she had observed the many ships assembling in the Ebou Dari harbour. Her contact had not arrived yet but that did not trouble her. The woman would be here soon, of that the Aes Sedai had no doubt. No, what troubled her was something else entirely. And so she was now on her way to see the Eyes and Ears for the Red Ajah in the city because she needed to know if the rumours she had heard were true. That Darkfriends had infiltrated several Noble Houses in her homeland Cairhien! She had not been there for decades, her work as a Sister taking up all her time, but the thought that filthy followers of the Dark One could be spreading their evil filth there made her stomach turn. And that blasted Voreyna!, the Tower’s representative in the Tarasin Palace, had told her nothing, staring coldly at her when she had asked if she knew anything. Too proud that one, she thought frowning, then dismissed the Gray Sister, thirty years her junior and far less able, from her mind. Now she hoped the Red Ajah network had ‘sussed out’ something of what was going on. Passing a local merchant man in Ebou Dari attire, strong of build but clearly simple of mind, who stared at her a little too long for her comfort and who got a very icy look back, she entered a flower shop and shut the door behind her. Stepping up to the empty counter she rang a bell and waited. Flowers of all kinds and all colours were assembled around the room and her eyes fastened on some red tulips high in the shop window. Then she turned as the shopkeeper arrived. A middle-aged Ebou Dari woman, somewhat stout, dark-haired with deep brown eyes and a somewhat pouty mouth, she bowed respectfully when she saw that her customer was an Aes Sedai. “How may I be of assistance, Aes Sedai?” The Shopkeeper inquired politely. She glanced quickly at the Red shawl around the Sister’s shoulders and then back at her ageless face. “I am looking for a particular flower”, the Red Sister said smoothly, her eyes glittering. “It is not easy to get hold of, but I hoped you might be able to help me.” “It is called Alstroemeria.” ● Carah din Toral Rising Wave stood on the Quarterdeck of her vessel Oceanfold gazing into the far horizon. The sun had just set but there were still echoes of fire-red in the sky. Her Windfinder, Morin din Rubai Blue Wing, turned for a moment to stare upwards at her Sailmistress. She had served this woman for many years and intended to do so for many more, presuming they survived this season of war. For war was coming. Morin could feel it in her bones. Turning back to stare at the blue-green ocean waves, framed in reflections of pale red far ahead, she adjusted some of her Saidar-wrought weaves so the ship would flow more smoothly through the sea. Her tattooed hands moved softly in the air as she channeled, as if in a dance, the painted stars and seabirds seeming to flow through the curls and whirls of the stylized waves. She was humming as well, a song she always remembered from her childhood, a lullaby from a past long gone. The large triangular sail carried the wind as they flew through the waves, flapping slightly in tune with the ship’s movement. The smaller white squared sails mimicked the movement, making a swishing sound in the air. The Windfinder smiled inside. They were making good time and Carah would be pleased. ● When she had the dream the first time, Morin did not pay it any heed. She had often thought of her now dead mother - blessed be her soul - in the ten or so years since she had passed on, so it was not strange at all that she would appear in the Windfinder’s dream. But when it happened four nights in a row, Morin wondered. What also struck her as strange, was that though her mother looked the same, she acted.. differently than she had in real life. Weaker. More filled with doubt. Morin had had dreams before of friends who acted strangely too, but somehow she believed her mother would be as she remembered her also in dreams. A strong character. A defiant one. Meeting her mother therefore became an ambivalent experience, filled with joy but also with some weariness. Was this her mind twisting her memory of her mother? Every time she woke after one of these dreams, she was sweating and felt an ache in her head, and it always took some time before her body settled. What made her very uncertain and weary was also the message her mother always had. Do not trust anyone. You are being deceived. The Coramoor will bring our people Doom. Morin had always believed in Omens. And this was a very troubling one. ● The Stone of Tear was an immense fortress, believed to be mankind's oldest surviving stronghold and indeed oldest existing structure, having been erected shortly after, or during, the Breaking of the World. It was built by Aes Sedai using the One Power: Earth, Air, and Fire fusing stones together without joint or mortar. The Stone resembled a great mountain and towered over the city of Tear. Only the White Tower was taller. The Defenders of the Stone were the elite military group used specifically to guard the Stone. Only Tairens were accepted into the Defenders, selected at great care, and officers were usually of Noble birth. The Stone had its own docks, and was an essentially self-sufficient citadel. The inside of the fortress was intentionally complex with multiple hallways joining at odd intersections in order to confuse invaders and provide defenders with even more of a territorial advantage. Arrow slits were the only sizable windows, and any attempt to reach them would only succeed if the person trying was not spotted by the towers (the arrow slits were a later modification, when the kind of warfare was less advanced than the time when the Stone was initially built). The Stone of Tear housed many secrets, for those who had such knowledge, but for most commoners it was simply a grand structure of historical value. The Stone had never fallen and this was something of which its Defenders were very proud. ● Staring up at the Stone from a level below, Tiragh Rendiana, Captain of the Stone - his Captain’s insignia on his golden uniform’s shoulders glinting in the afternoon sun - felt some of that pride as his gaze swept over the magnificent structure. As leader and Commander of the Defenders of the Stone it was his responsibility to keep the Stone safe and secure. He was a handsome Tairen man of average height with short dark hair, a light-brown complexion, and kind grey-green eyes, a minor Noble, in his early forties and his military uniform fit him well. He was a lifelong soldier, and keenly aware that he had had to struggle to get where he was. He was intense, fastidious and meticulous of nature and he was a respected and competent Commander. He took his duties very seriously and it was his life’s mission to ensure no enemy of any kind ever took the Stone. When he walked up the levels to one of the Stone’s several Gates, he saw several of his guards in resplendent uniforms standing watch beside the Gate. They came at attention when they saw him, and he nodded with pride as he passed by on his way into one of the many stone tunnels leading inwards. The Stone was his. ● The white marble walls flickered in that slightly off-hand fashion they always did in this place. Slivers of light from the sun streamed through the windows and touched the marble making it almost sparkle but not quite. The tall blonde-haired woman dressed all in white almost see-through silk walked down the hall and opened a door at the end. Her sapphire-blue eyes tightened and there was a frown on her otherwise beautiful face as if she were displeased about something. Walking into another room, marble-white in all its splendour, she shut the door hard behind her and lay down in the luxurious white settee. The white table beside the settee flickered slightly as well, as if echoing the flickers on the walls, but Nymeria ignored it, her thoughts somewhere else entirely. She was used to these aspects of Tel’aran’rhiod, aspects which they had never understood fully even back in her own world, the time that today they called the Age of Legends. Oh, the World of Dreams had been studied extensively at the Collam Daan ever since it had been discovered, by chance as it turned out, during a world-wide study of atoms reflected through bent streams of acceptor-positrons. And what a discovery it had been! But it had been kept secret from the general populace, of course! There would have been world-wide panic if people had learned that it was now possible to affect people’s dreams, even to enter those dreams in a parallel reality. The Aes Sedai had kept the secret - and a select few had been given permission to study it further and gain expertise on how the World of Dreams functioned in all its apparent glory. Nymeria had been one of a dozen researchers who had been given this chance and she had leapt at the opportunity. Several years of study had given her much skill and competence, some of which she had shared with the others. Some she had kept all to herself, of course. That was only prudent. Even so, though she had learned much, there were many things about Tel’aran’rhiod she never would understand - and still did not. It was a reflection of the real world, a mirror-image in a way, and Nymeria guessed that was also why it flickered, as if attempting to gain the stability and solidity of the real world. She had always been interested in puzzles, finding answers to difficult questions, finding truths where there were none. And above all she had been fascinated by the human mind. And dreams. Why do people dream at all? Do all people dream? Can secrets be found in dreams? Why do some people have weak minds and others strong? Her studies at the Collam Daan had taught her many things and afterwards she had had a successful career as a medical practitioner and clinical psychiatrist in a private practice in Emar Dal. Her prowess and accomplishments in her academic field had made her famous, among scholars and other Aes Sedai, but she had kept her new studies secret since she knew many in her profession would disagree with the lengths she would go to in order to increase her skill and knowledge. For she wanted to learn how much pain a mind could cope with, and used her clients to test out her theories. ● As the years went by she realized that she also enjoyed giving pain and seeing the reactions, it gave her a thrill and a satisfaction that she did not question in her eagerness. Using Compulsion, which was frowned upon by society, she was fascinated to see how humans changed their behaviour with a few nudges here, a few nudges there, and through experience she became extremely skilled at it. That she killed some of her clients during her experimentation did not faze her. Some sacrifice needed to be done in the pursuit of science, as she thought of it. That her own mind was darkening, her ethics weakening she would not have admitted to anyone. She was only following her passion after all, excelling in a field that few had truly excelled in. One day it all ended, as a trusted assistant betrayed her to the authorities. Accused of murder and illegal practices, she was to be arrested and have to stand trial before the Aes Sedai hierarchy! Forewarned by a trusted friend, she was able to escape before being captured and hid for a while in a small village several miles from the great city. Hearing of the rebels who had found an other power to serve, she decided to join them, thinking pragmatically. She wanted to continue her research into the human mind and dreams and with these rebels she would be able to do so without restrictions. That was all that mattered to her. That they served some other higher power was of less interest to her. She would do what she had to do to survive - and to excel. Turning to the Shadow was therefore a practical matter for her. And a few weeks later she found herself bowing before her new Great Lord, as One of Those Chosen to Rule the World Forever. Laying on the settee now, she tried to calm herself. Why had the man’s mind broken so easily? She had used delicate weaves of Compulsion on the young Borderlander, probing into his mind, into his dreams, touching the nerve-centres ever so slightly.. but it had caused a seizure and he had blacked out and soon after died. Damn! She was certain that she had been careful enough, her weave precise, but clearly not. That he had died did not upset her. It was rather that she had failed.. again.. in her procedure. Why are their minds so weak? Closing her blue eyes, she travelled in her mind back to that time when she had practiced her skill on captured humans. It had been back in the War of Power, as it came to be known, when they had tried to plant fake memories in people’s minds to make them perfect assassins. There had been some successes.. but also many failures. Minds broken, cases of permanent insanity. And subsequent death. Most people are simply too weak, thought the Chosen now as her eyes opened again and she stared silently, determinedly, at the flickering ceiling above. Too weak by far. ● The Red apple was just as delicious as Sandana had anticipated! The sweet juices ran into her mouth and also down her cheeks and she happily took another big bite as slivers of silver Moonlight pierced her bedroom window. It was the best apple she had ever eaten - and she was about to give a shout of joy to her father in the bedroom next door when she suddenly felt a tingling in her fingers.. Something was happening! The tingling spread to her arms and legs and her eyes widened.. ..as a globe of shining light suddenly appeared above her bed, floating in the air.. She was so amazed that she almost dropped the apple! ..and then she started to laugh joyously.. This was the most fantastic thing!! ● The shining globe moved slowly downward toward her face and she caught her breath. It was so beautiful!! She started to reach for it with her empty hand, her excitement unstoppable, but then, inside the globe of light, she suddenly saw her own face reflected. The eyes were of a different colour than hers, the cheekbones a little more prominent, but it was unmistakably her! The reflection was smiling! Sandana gasped in amazement! And then the reflection whispered to her. The voice was not hers but it resembled it closely. The voice drew her in - and her face moved close to the shining globe. Her eyes widened even further, if that were possible, her mouth agape, when the child’s voice said softly: “Do not be afraid, Child. The Winds hear your Voice.” When after a few moments the child’s voice spoke again, whispered words that lingered in the air, the globe’s brilliance seeming to draw light even from the Moon’s silver outside, Sandana dropped the Red apple in pure astonishment. ● Elessar and Calia sat together in the White Lion inn’s small library in Caemlyn sipping to some tea and kaf. It was hardly a library in the general sense, only a small room with several shelves filled with books and maps and some interesting objects of history, but it functioned as a small library for guests in the inn and a place to sit and rest, read or talk. Elessar had picked up several books of interest (not seeing Calia’s smile at his eagerness) and had leafed through them in the few hours they had been sitting there. Now he put the last book away, it was a summarized history of Andor by a local author that he had found interesting. It had also reminded him that he wanted to tell Calia the story of Old Celter. That charming old man he had met here in Caemlyn years before on another journey South. “There is a story I want to share with you”, said the Warder as Calia put aside the book she had been studying. She smiled and asked him what it was about. “It is about an old man I met here in Caemlyn years ago”, Elessar replied. “My bondholder Carys Aes Sedai and I were travelling South just like we are now. And one day, on a stop here in Caemlyn, we entered an antiques shop. That is where we met this charming old character”. He smiled with fond memories. “This is how it happened..” said Elessar, and using his near photographic memory he recited in detail how it had taken place.. ● “We were walking along the city streets”, the Warder began, “Carys and I when she suddenly stopped next to an antiques shop with the tagline that mentioned that it specialized in local, Caemlyn history...” Knowing Elessar’s special interest in history, and saying that she bet this shop had even more detailed local information than perhaps even the White Tower library, she had entered the shop without waiting for a response, knowing that he - with his passion for history - would eagerly follow. A tiny bell had sounded as the door had clicked shut. Carys had looked around, her nose twitching at the dust in the air. Apparently this was not a shop often entered, she had thought. There were objects on tables all around, small plaques in front describing why they were important. Paintings had hung on nearly every inch of wall space, making the small shop seem even smaller. The Aes Sedai had begun speaking, and then the shopkeeper had come upon them. He had been whistling a tune, unknown to Elessar, and now he stared at them with wide eyes, holding tightly onto a plate of steaming food, his words drifting away like whispers.. “My ...Lady.” the old shopkeeper had said rapidly. “To what do I owe this visit?” He was a very old man, Elessar now explained, wearing a woolen shirt which had once been colourful but where the colours had faded over time, and trousers which had not been in fashion for over a century. He had a prestigious girth, and a wrinkled old face, grey hair, crystal blue eyes with bushy eyebrows, big ears and a large nose. He wore ancient glasses and he looked positively shocked to see them there! Elessar and Carys exchanged a quick look and the Warder tried for the second time that morning not entirely successfully to hide a grin. Light, the man looks like an ancient scholar! he thought with kind amusement. He must be as old as some of the books in here! Carys met the old man’s eyes and answered him that they were visiting the city and had seen his shop as they were walking by. “We’re students of history, my good man” Elessar added, his gaze eagerly taking in the room with all its objects of great age. “We’re interested in Andoran history and traditions”, the Aes Sedai said and smiled. ● The old Andoran scrutinized them, noticing the woman’s fair skin and complexion, then nodded to himself, murmuring under his breath. “History and traditions you say?” he said and a wide grin came upon his lips. “Well then, come in, come in strangers”, he said as he started to walk back in the shop, bidding them to follow. “Old Celter will give you some of our history”. He chuckled a little, then added: ”Come now. Hardly anyone visits my shop nowadays anyway, so little chance we will be disturbed. Come follow me. Follow me to the back. Follow old Celter.” They exchanged a quick glance, shrugged, and followed the old man to the back of the shop. He placed the plate of steaming food on a shelf in the back room and it was soon forgotten as he motioned for the two of them to sit down in a pair of heavily decorated brown wooden chairs that looked as old as the Trolloc Wars. The ancient chairs creaked slightly as they seated themselves and Carys and Elessar exchanged a silent glance which read: please, let these antiques carry our weight! “Traditions... yes”, the old man mumbled to himself as he ran a finger down the side of his chair. “I don’t often get visitors”, he said and he pushed up his glasses that had fallen down on his nose. “History is all about us here”, he said, “but no one seems to care.” He shrugged. There was regret in his voice, but then, as if a switch had been turned, his eyes lit up and he studied them closely again. “But you do, strangers”, he said and a playful grin came upon his lips. “So all hope is not lost.” He smiled in a strange way but Elessar was charmed by this old man, who, he somehow felt, was more than your everyday shopkeeper and antiques-dealer. What is your history, old man, I wonder? the Warder thought to himself. I bet you have seen many things in your long life. “History and traditions, yes” the old Andoran mumbled and looked them each in the eye with a fixed stare. “Here is an old tradition for you”, he began. “Perhaps the oldest and most well known tradition in Andor: The Succession.” The Warder nodded, smiling inside since he had read about this Andoran tradition just that same morning. Carys also seemed interested and they sat back to listen, leaning backwards in their chairs ever so carefully so as to not put too much strain on them. ● “The most widely known tradition of Andor”, the old man began, “is - as you have probably heard - that only a queen may sit upon the Lion Throne and wear the Rose Crown, never a king.” The old man paused for slight dramatic effect. “But you might not know that it was not so in the beginning”, he said. “Or rather, it was not meant to be so from the beginning. The tradition, in fact, arose when none of the royal sons survived the War of the Hundred Years.” He mumbled something under his breath about sons always going off to war only to get killed, what a waste.. what a waste.. but his words were not clear. Then, in a stronger voice, he continued. “The First Queen, revered Ishara, only had a daughter left alive after her sons died and so she became her heir. She in turn also was left with only a daughter many years later and so her throne was passed to another woman and queen. In time this became Andoran law, and ever since only Queens have ruled Andor.” Elessar listened, captivated. Always interested in history, it was special to hear about it in such an old and history-oriented establishment and especially from a very old man who seemed to have lived through some of that history himself. “Now then”, the old Andoran continued, “as I am sure you know” - he said this last bit with a quick look at the Aes Sedai - “the eldest daughter is named Daughter-Heir and is by law sent to the White Tower to study, then ascends the throne upon her mother’s death or retirement.” Elessar nodded to himself, recalling the description in the book he had read. Carys listened knowingly. “Her eldest brother”, the old man went on, “who is styled First Prince of the Sword, is sworn to protect and defend his sister with his life. He is trained from childhood, and later in Tar Valon,” - he gave the Warder a quick look - “to command the Queen’s armies in times of war and to be her military advisor. If the Queen has no surviving brother, she appoints the First Prince.” He mumbled to himself for a moment.. about Daughter-Heirs and First Princes not always living up to their promise.. and then reached out behind him, removing an ancient parchment from the shelf. “Now then”, he said, coughing slightly, “what happens when there is no surviving daughter? Ah well, that is when we often get.. the disturbances.. ah what Outlanders often call.. Andoran Wars of Succession.” He added the last part with slight disdain, refusing - as did all Andorans - to acknowledge that their system for selecting an heir could possibly lead to war. ● He chuckled and a broad grin came upon his face. “Ah yes, the Great Houses - there are nineteen of them, you know - come into the playing field”, said the old man, his finger softly brushing the parchment that he held, “out they come to.. play.” His eyes seemed to go far away for a moment, as if in old rememberance. Then they fixed back on the two attentive listeners and his eyes widened, almost as if shocked that they were still there with him. Soon though his face relaxed and he seemed to recall why they were there. He pushed his glasses back up from his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Then he spoke. “Where was I? Oh yes, the Succession.” He handed the parchment to Carys who opened it reverently - Elessar leaning over to have a look - and saw that it was a list of all the Great Noble Houses of Andor, resplendent with House-sigils and honours. The old Andoran chuckled a little to himself again before he went on. “Yes, when there is no Daughter-Heir, the throne is given to the nearest female blood relative. But succession is based not only on close relation to the former Queen, you see, but also on the degree of blood in a line of female descent from Ishara, our first Queen. As you can surmise, this makes things very.. intricate.. and interesting.” He seemed to be enjoying himself now, like an old tutor lecturing in front of his favourite students. “Ah yes, matters of lineage have become quite complex, since all the Great Houses are related after years of intermarriage. There have been political reasons for this practice, of course, sons and daughters marrying for the benefit of the House.. Families craving power and influence.. always power and influence..” Again he seemed to drift away, lost in thoughts.. but he caught himself and fixed his gaze on them once more. “And so the question of succession”, he said, “has led to intrigue, plotting and often bloodshed” - he sighed - “when the Houses do not agree.” Another chuckle escaped the old man’s lips and his right hand clenched. “Ah, they are like children.. who act before they think.. who want it all, never mind the consequences.. but so it has always been.. always..” The old man shook his head resignedly and his eyes seemed to drift.. to go back.. into lost memories. He folded his hands and placed them on his lap, weariness embracing his features. “As Carys and I watched in rapt silence”, said Elessar now, smiling in fond rememberance, “the old man’s eyelids gradually became heavier and heavier and finally his eyes closed, his head leaned back on the top rail of his chair to rest, and he drifted slowly, ever so slowly into blissful sleep.” ● Daros Guhlen was getting tired of cutting the tall grass on his piece of land a mile or so outside the town of Trustair in north-western Murandy. A tall brown-haired man with bushy eyebrows and a long beard, he had been using the scythe ever since morning. His workman’s clothes were dirty and sweaty and his back ached, and his temper was now getting the better of him. It was late afternoon, the blue sky filled with patches of grey clouds, and for some unimaginable reason! his field appeared almost as filled with tall grass as when he had started even though he had been cutting the grass for hours on end. It was impossible!! Putting the scythe aside, he looked at it questioningly. It was an ordinary tool with a long, sharp, curved blade and a long handle held in two hands. Nothing special about it. Picking it up again he touched the curved blade for the umpteenth time and it was just as sharp as it should be. A drop of blood assembled on his fingertip just to prove that it was indeed sharp enough. Cursing inside, he wondered what his dear wife Jhenda would say when he told her something weird was going on. She would probably say, he was off his rocker again. Shaking his head, grumbling to himself, he could imagine her disapproving frown. Casting the scythe another very dark look, he was just about to head back to the farmhouse when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the scythe move on its own in the grass! What the heck!!? As he half-turned, his eyes widening and his mouth now agape, the scythe came alive, rising into the air with the dangerous curved blade pointed toward him. Before he was able to move, the scythe flew straight at him! Screaming aloud in shock, he just managed to twist aside and avoided being struck in the face by the animated tool. Whisps of his long beard were sliced right off though! The scythe flew at him again, and again, the blood-sharp blade making a swooshing sound as it hacked at him continuously - chasing him all the way back through the field to the farmhouse! ▀▄
  4. .. In the Shadow of Shayol Ghul .. ►▼◄ Amaranth, the leader of the Chosen, walked silently onto the black slopes of Shayol Ghul. His black cloak with the now black symbols running down the sleeves mirrored the Darkness of this place. Black clouds almost hid the sky and the mountain’s peak was cloaked in mist and black night. Releasing the One Power quickly, since it was dangerous to hold onto Saidin this close to the Pit of Doom, he started walking toward the opening in the rock some way in the distance. Thunder rolled as it always seemed to do in this place and flashes of lightning came from several directions at once in a way which should normally not have been possible. This place was, however, different, as he had experienced on his several visits. The ordinary laws of nature did not apply here. Striding through the deepening mists he tried to prepare himself for what was to come. He knew he would not be prepared, however. He would be overwhelmed. He was only mortal, after all. At least as far as this place was concerned. The Myrddraal standing guard did not acknowledge him a he passed between them into the mountain proper. Black armoured with overlapping scales and with eyeless faces, they looked like any Fades though somehow they seemed a bit taller but that could just be this place altering his senses. Walking past he sensed, as always was the case, the air becoming a bit warmer, and the further he walked the warmer it became. After a while he felt the heat from ahead and tried to calm his senses knowing what awaited. The path slanted gradually downwards, the tunnel floor marked by the passage of feet over time. A dim light shone from crystals and minerals in the walls but Amaranth ignored them as he followed the downward-sloping corridor. As he neared his destination, the heat increased and jagged spikes hung down from the ceiling like pillars of warning, giving the impression that one was walking into a dangerous predator’s forbidden lair. The tunnel opened at last onto a wide ledge which stood above a lake of molten stone with dancing flames. Upward there was only a great hole that reached up the mountain into.. elsewhere .. This was the Pit of Doom. ● He felt the same awe that he had felt every single time he had been here, ever since that first time when he had pledged his soul to the Shadow and had taken the unbreakable Oath to his Great Lord. And fear, though he would not admit it to anyone. Here he sensed the Bore, the hole that had been drilled through to the Great Lord’s prison all those many years ago. Here he felt the Great Lord’s closeness to the world and beads of sweat now ran down his forehead and chin, and it was not only from the heat. He could not stop himself. There was as always a soft hum in the air but he had never been able to pin point where it came from. It seemed to come from the rock itself. Time passed but he could not say how much. He ran a hand through his blond hair trying to calm himself but he could not keep the combination of excitement and fear away. Suddenly the air around him.. shifted. There was no wind but reality altered if only slightly and the hairs on his back rose, goosebumps running down his arms. His eyes widened, his stomach clenched and his mouth became as dry as dust.. Tears came unbidden to his eyes.. and he caught his breath.. AMARANTH ● Pain and ecstasy co-mingled in his brain and it was like an explosion of awareness and emotion as the voice crashed through his head like an avalanche. Every single hair on his body now stood on end and he did not know whether to shout endlessly in exultation or scream in horror. ARE YOU LOYAL, AMARANTH. With the almost cataclysmic emotions crashing through him, he was unable to breathe, never mind answer! He was lost for a long moment.. but then with the greatest of effort he was able to partially collect himself to the extent that he was able to breathe again and see.. He fell to his knees, however and bowed his head in submission. Tears ran unashamedly down his cheeks but a small flame of fire came to his eyes. Burning pools of red that slowly diminished. “I am as ever your loyal Servant, Great Lord!” Amaranth said truthfully and with fervour. “You need never doubt my loyalty and work in Your honour!” YES. YOU HAVE SERVED ME WELL. SO FAR. Each word the Great Lord spoke struck him like a hammer blow but tinged with sweetness in that impossible combination which, however, reflected this place. He could not keep the tears from flowing. WHAT OF THE OTHERS, AMARANTH. The Chosen gasped as pain struck him again, unable to look up from his crouching position on the rock. “They are following their orders, Great Lord!” Amaranth replied, gasping, believing it for true. “So far they have shown they are to be trusted. They know the price of betrayal.” ● A long moment passed, an eternity for the Chosen. He felt added pressure in his mind.. a pressure that increased as he started to scream.. ..but then after a while it eased up, and Amaranth, hands trembling like leaves in wind, panted in relief. He hated being this weak. YES. THEY DO. WATCH THEM CAREFULLY, AMARANTH. I ENCOURAGE AMBITION IN MY CHOSEN AS YOU WELL KNOW, I VALUE STRENGTH AND INITIATIVE, BUT BETRAYAL WILL NEVER BE ACCEPTED. The Chosen, almost lost in pain, tried to brush tears from his chin but his arms now felt too heavy, as if something was pinning them down. Breathing heavily now, he felt he was close to losing consciousness. CHAOS MUST REIGN AS MY ENEMY GATHERS HIS FORCES. THIS WILL BE YOUR MAIN RESPONSIBILITY, AMARANTH. BE AN AGENT OF CHAOS. “I will, my Great Lord!” Amaranth replied fervently, his voice almost a scream. “I will bring the world into Darkness as You command.” A never-ending tempest, a storm of Ice and Fire, pain mixed with ecstasy, ran throughout his body and mind for that final second before he lost consciousness and blacked out. ● Delerihn Lehndre stood watching the plaza until the last soldiers had departed. He saw another Raken in flight and also two To’raken, the larger cousins of the Raken who were not as fast or agile but stronger and could fly much longer distances without rest and carry heavier loads. Their primary purpose, he knew, was transportation of troops or cargo. These creatures were not native of Seanchan and he had his strong suspicions from where they originally came. They had been a part of Seanchan fauna for as long as anyone could remember, however, the same as other animals like Grolm (large bear-like creatures of weight at least 300 pounds with three eyes), Lopar (the main combat animal of the Seanchan, large creatures of weight at least 1500 pounds with six toes on both front and rear paws, all with large retractable claws), and Torm (a cross between a horse-sized cat and a lizard, with bronze scales, six-clawed feet that can grip stones in a road, and three eyes; an intelligent creature). The Torm was the animal that impressed Delerihn the most. It was bright and could, it was said, come close to human levels in certain areas of problem solving, such as maze tests. It was fiercely loyal as well to the extent that it would only accept one rider and would not allow any other to mount. Such loyalty should be rewarded, he thought with some amusement as he turned away from the plaza and re-entered his lavish apartment. ● Well inside he poured himself a drink and seated himself in his comfortable high-backed armchair. He had always preferred red wine and though this vintage was rather poor in his opinion it would have to do. Sipping from the wine glass he gazed at the parchments and maps which filled his desk and considered the information therein. The map of the large continent to the East interested him the most. Studying it carefully his mind drifted. Finally he set the wine glass aside. Glancing fondly at the figures and small marble statues on the shelves around his living room, many very rare items, he smiled. There was always something new to discover. Rising from the armchair he walked across to the tall mirror on the wall, the one that was heavily decorated with hawks in flight top and bottom, gazed at his reflection and then left closing the door behind him. As he entered the Imperial Palace, walking between massive pillars of pure marble, up countless steps he came across several Sul’dam (Leash Holders) and Damane (Leashed Ones). Seanchan had long believed that women who could channel were far too dangerous to roam free in society. He had always found the practice of leashing women who could channel.. interesting. Amusing even. He was well familiar with the practice. Sul'dam controlled the Damane through the use of an a'dam, a special Ter'angreal that looked like a silver leash and bracelet. Using the a'dam, the Sul'dam could sense the thoughts and feelings of the Damane and also inflict pain or pleasure. If Damane tried to escape their a'dam, they would undergo severe pain and headaches that vanished when they stopped thinking of escaping. Most Damane were terrified of roaming free, having been brought up as leashed women which they found safe, and even the thought of Marath'damane - “those who must be leashed” - a term used in Seanchan for any woman who was able to channel the One Power but had not yet been leashed by an a'dam - terrified them. Looking at the Damane walking behind the Sul’dam like a timid dog on a leash, Delerihn kept his opinions to himself though he was not entirely able to lose the small grin on his lips. When he entered the first Hall of Visitors, the guards in their resplendent uniforms nodded to him out of respect. For he was the man the Empress turned to for Truth in Seandar. He was a Soe'feia, a Truthspeaker, a so'jhin - an upper and particularly valued servant of the Empress - who served Seanchan Royalty by telling them the absolute truth of a situation as they saw it, no matter how painful or humiliating it might be. While many of the Blood called their Voice "Truthspeaker," few understood how much power they truly held. Since those owned by the Blood were so'jhin they could be punished, but a true Truthspeaker was required to tell the absolute truth and may not be punished for it. There were many truths to tell Ilahna Erem Sani Paendrag blessed of her name, the ruler of this proud and great nation. Also truths she may not be so happy to hear. ● The Imperial Palace was an enormous building built by Ogier stonemasons on several levels and it took him a long time to get to the Royal Reception Hall. More guards waited outside that huge chamber, these armed heavily and fiercer of eye, and he had to wait for permission to enter. Finally he was let through and was soon face to face with the Empress herself. She was seated on the Crystal Throne which was, in fact, a great Ter'angreal that caused anyone who approached it to feel immense awe and wonder. Very few indeed were aware of this fact but Delerihn was one of the few who knew. It amused him, though he never let the Empress know that he had the knowledge. “Delerihn, there you are”, said the Seanchan ruler as he bowed low before her. She was a short woman of dark complexion with large brown eyes and a bald shaved head in the ancient tradition of the Seanchan Imperial Family. All her fingernails were also lacquered which furthermore showed her high station. She wore three huge earrings in each ear and a necklace with a diamond sapphire of prominent size. Her eyes were those of a hawk. “Empress”, he responded smoothly as he always did, “I am Yours to command.” She gave him a shrewd look as she added, as she did every time they met, “And what truth do you have for me today?” ● Seating himself in the provided chair on a level below the Empress, the Truthspeaker smiled. His eyes glinted. “Some truths come when least expected, Empress. Some truths will not find favour.” “I know this, Truthspeaker”, the Seanchan ruler replied a little impatiently, her eyes narrowing. “Speak your mind.” “The truth has come to me.” He said, looking slightly past her as was custom. “The decision to broaden your Empire was a wise one, Empress.” He waited a few seconds before adding, “The Star and Moon smile upon you in favour.” “Oh really?” She replied, her mouth not smiling. “Do you see any more let’s say practical truths?” “Empress, truths must be interpreted.” His voice was serious though his eyes had a shrewd edge now. “I can say though that the Winds do favour an all-out strike in the East.” “Thank you, Truthspeaker”, the Empress finally replied, eying him in that way she often did, with appreciation but also with some suspicion that he was not telling the whole truth. He bowed from his seated position but showed no inclination to leave. The Empress’ eyebrows rose questioningly. “You have more truths for me?” It was not a question. “Yes, Empress.” The Truthspeaker replied. He seemed to hestitate before speaking on but finally he did. “I am sorry to say, but one of your Generals in the East will betray you.” “Is that so?” said the Empress, her look even shrewder. “And who may this.. untrustworthy General be?” ● When he left the Empress and the Imperial Palace behind, Delerihn Lehndre headed back to his apartment, walking quickly across the plaza, into the adjacent building and up to his room. Closing the door behind him, he stopped for a moment to gaze at the huge painting on the wall. He had often studied that painting with interest. It depicted a defining moment in Seanchan history or, as some thought, myth and legend, when Luthair Paendrag Mondwin, the son of the infamous Artur Hawkwing (or Artur Paendrag Tanreall as was his real name, who created an Empire in the East) came ashore to this land in the West in his resplendent ship at the head of a fleet sent by his father. They unified the continent and created the Seanchan Empire, in time, through conquest (called ‘The Conquest’ or ‘The Consolidation’ by the Seanchan people). What is truth and what is not? That is always the question, Delerihn thought with great amusement. Gazing down at the blue gemstone on his ring finger, he grinned widely. As he embraced the One Power, feeling the glory of the avalanche that was Saidin rushing through him, amplified by the Angreal that was the ancient gemstone, the false Truthspeaker of the Seanchan felt the Fire within. Channeling Saidin, through the weave known in the Age of Legends as the Mask of Mirrors, his face changed gradually in the reflection of the mirror on the wall, from a middle-aged Seanchan man, a so'jhin with the half-shaved head but otherwise ordinary looking, to a medium tall, heavy-set man of dark complexion with short black hair and deep brown eyes in his late twenties. Looking at his real image reflected he nodded in satisfaction. Turning away from the mirror, he sat down in his armchair and closed his eyes. All was proceeding nicely. All was going according to plan. The real Delerihn Lehndre had departed this earth many months before, killed and buried where he would never be found. And the Seanchan were off to war in the East; his whispers in the Empress’ ears over several weeks had convinced her of the soundness and wisdom of his suggestions. Now he had also planted a seed of doubt and confusion with his false accusation of one of the Seanchan Generals on the fleet heading eastward, adding some chaos to the coming war. The Great Lord would be pleased. The Chosen who had once been called Ildahr Nenth Rinahmon smiled broadly. He had taken a new name during the War of Power, a name borne of Change and Glory. Kalessin ● The proud and stately banner of Andor, with a resplendent White Lion rampant on a Field of Red, rippled strongly in the wind above the city-gates of Caemlyn, as Calia and Elessar passed through the gates and rode into the Andoran Capital. Stormbreaker whinnied happily as he stepped onto the cobblestone streets of the city and started prancing. Elessar almost laughed, grinning widely, as he gave the stallion an affectionate pat on the back, whispering words of encouragement. They were valiant companions on the road and in war, the two of them, and had been for many years. They understood one another perfectly. It was late in the afternoon and clouds had blanketed the sky from early dawn. They had ridden many miles through Andor and now had begun to feel saddle soreness and aching backs and so were looking forward to a few days’ respite in Caemlyn. They needed a refill of provisions and some rest. As they rode slowly along the city-streets among the buzzing crowds, passing merchants and shops, local folk and travellers as well as city-guards patrolling the streets, Elessar was reminded of his previous visits to this city and of Andor’s colourful past. Andor was, in fact, one of the oldest nations in the world, founded during the War of the Hundred Years. Many of Andor's traditions were established during those early years. Unlike many nobles of the time, Queen Ishara, Andor's first ruler, had realized that no one ruler would be able to take control of Hawkwing's entire empire. Instead, she had focused on controlling only what she could. As a result, Andor began only with the Capital city of Caemlyn and the small surrounding villages. Cautious expansion had marked the reigns of the early queens of Andor. Caemlyn A majestic city, second in beauty only to Tar Valon in many people’s eyes. Elessar could not disagree. He had been here several times in the past on White Tower missions with his former bondholders and the city had never failed to impress him. Historically Caemlyn had been made up of two cities; the New City and the Inner City. The New City, less than two thousand years old, had been constructed by men, surrounding but largely to the north of the Inner City. The ancient Inner City, however, in which sat the magnificent Andoran Royal Palace, seat of government for Andor, had been constructed by Ogier - expert stonemasons - much earlier on the hills. Thick walls had encircled Caemlyn for years beyond knowing, keeping intruders and enemies out, protecting its denizens and its interests. Power in Andor lay in its Capital. Whoever held Caemlyn ruled Andor. And only Queens rule this great nation, the Warder thought to himself, recalling Andoran tradition. Only a woman, a Queen, may sit on the Lion Throne. ● The Sea Folk Raker sped through the blue-green Seas of the Aryth Ocean. They were on a southward course but were still some ways north-west of the mainland which locals called Falme. Carah din Toral Rising Wave, Sailmistress of the Oceanfold, studied the sea charts in front of her wondering how far south they were supposed to go. She was alone in her cabin and the sun had set outside. Go south, they tell me. But how far south? She had been as far south as Tanchico on the south-western part of the mainland once but it was not very common for Sea Folk ships to be that far south. Would she be asked to go that far? The enemy would be coming from the west so she did not want to place her ship too far away from the centre of battle. But she had to follow orders, and so they were speeding south as quickly as possible. Putting the charts aside, she got up and went out on deck, closing the door to her cabin behind her. The wind had picked up in the last hour or two but it came from the south and so the ship faced headwind for the next stretch of their journey. Her Windfinder needed to use more force to keep them running smoothly in the water but she was experienced, the Sailmistress knew, and would act accordingly. She watched with satisfaction as the other sailors moved ably and efficiently around on deck doing their duties. She had always run a tight ship, in every way - and her crew knew it well. ● Taeda din Varede Four Moons, the Mistress of the Ships and ruler of the Atha’an Miere, stared forcefully at the Sailmistress. Carah did not frighten easily, but this woman made her weary. It had always been so. Taeda had very dark eyes, almost white hair and a face carved of iron. She was tall for her race and thinly built but her arms had the strength of someone half her age. She had six rings in each ear, a sign of her high station, and numerous medallions on the chain connected to her nose. Forceful, was indeed the word most Wavemistresses and Sailmistresses used to describe her. And she had embraced it to the fullest. “You are to sail to Tanchico.” Taeda din Varede Four Moons repeated in a cold voice. “And stay there!” The command was clear but it left a sour aftertaste in the Sailmistress’ mouth. Stationed that far south, and in dock, she would miss all the action!! She had said as much, trying to be polite but her anger shining through. The Mistress of the Ships was not amused. “Follow my orders, Carah”, she said, her voice hard, beginning to lose patience, “or I will string you up like the deckhand you once were and strip you of all your titles!” The Sailmistress blanched, her face going an unnatural pale, but even so her eyes remained fierce. “Just as long as I get to fight the enemy on the open seas.” She replied at last, her voice meek-ish. “I am no good to anyone on land like a flaming Ranoya; none of us are.” The Mistress of the Ships stared long and hard at her Sailmistress before she answered. Carah was one of the most capable Sailmistresses around, she knew; one who might one day become a Wavemistress. But she could be stubborn and could not be allowed to disobey orders. Seated across from her in the Sailmistress’ cabin, the leader of the Atha’an Miere tapped her fingers on the small table while she was thinking, her fingernails making a distinct sound on the wood. Finally she made up her mind. “Fine”. She said, her voice still cold, though her eyes lost their hard edge. “You will get into the action when it comes, I promise. But for now, sail straight for Tanchico and stay there until further orders.” The Sailmistress bowed in acknowledgement and obeisance, her hand touching her lips in their traditional fashion. Inside, a small smile was slowly blossoming. The Mistress of the Ships sighed inwardly, wishing she could divulge more information, and thought, what must be, must be. ● The nation of Ghealdan stretched from the Great Blackwood, along the southern banks of the River Manetherendrelle, to the River Eldar in the south, and from the Mountains of Mist in the west to the immense ridge known as Garen's Wall in the east. Its Capital city was Jehannah, located on the banks of the River Boern. Ghealdan was a land of mountains and foothills in the west, the rocky lands along the ridge in the east, and large swathes of forest in between, such as the Dhallin Forest. Though one of the smallest Kingdoms, Ghealdan was a proud one and none more so than its current ruler and King, Anthard Ramat Legarin. He was advised by the Crown High Council, which consisted of lords and merchants, at least formally, but in truth he made most decisions on his own, at least most of the time, aided by his close advisors. He thought it only right. He was the King after all. And those old fools on the Crown High Council were just interested in intrigues and political gain anyway, they did not care much for ruling the nation. King Anthard was in his early fifties and his once dark brown hair had streaks of grey now. His physical strength was weaker and his body fatter than it had once been as well and his face more worn. Even so he had a warm smile that won over any doubters and he had a good head on his shoulders. At least he was convinced of that himself. He chuckled as he walked down the corridor to his private chambers in the Royal Palace. He had had a great idea which he knew would infuriate the Council. He would triple the size of the Legion of the Wall! His grin grew as he anticipated the lords’ and merchants’ reaction to this bold new move. Oh they will hate it, for sure! he thought with glee. ● As a small country, Ghealdan did not possess a substantial standing army. Instead it had a small, professional force - the Legion - which protected the borders, policed Jehannah, and protected the ruler. In times of war the Legion formed the core of the Ghealdanin war effort and trained new levies to support its operations. In recent years the Legion had become less and less effective, however, since the Council in their endless wisdom had decided that the money could be better spent elsewhere in these peaceful times and the King though opposed had been advised to not push the matter. Now chaos was erupting many places according to the secret reports he received from his agents domestically and abroad and there would be need for a bigger Legion. He did not feel confident the Council would agree though, he knew they would call it unsubstantiated rumours and would argue and stall the whole matter for months if they had their way, and so he was taking matters into his own hands. The thought excited him. Finally he would take the initiative and damn them if they didn’t like it! Stepping into his private chambers, he immediately sensed that he was not alone. He did not see anyone there as he closed the door behind him but he felt eyes on him. Turning full circle his eyes searched for the intruder. His good mood was slowly evaporating but he did not feel any fear. No one who would want to harm the King would be allowed into the Palace, never mind his private room. It was probably his boy, Prince Kynric, who was hiding somewhere in the chamber. He had been told many times that he was not allowed in here, but telling a boy of eight such a thing only made him even more eager to try. ● Sighing to himself, he looked more closely toward the wardrobe at the end of the room by the southern wall, thinking that that was the most probable hiding place for the boy. “Alright Kynric”, he finally said with exasperation. “How many times have I told you not to come in here?” His statement was met with dead silence. “Alright, come out now”, the King demanded in a louder voice, tired of playing this game. Still there was only silence. Behind him though he suddenly sensed.. something.. there was no sound but more a feeling.. ..turning ever so slowly, the hairs on his neck rising, now sensing true danger for the first time, he just had a moment to realize that there was a creature of great size by the huge writing table on the left side of the room before the Darkhound, darker than night, eyes shining silver, and double the size of a wolf, leapt at him and sank its poisonous corrosive saliva-dripping jaws into his neck, ripping out his throat in a pool of blood and gore! The King’s last bewildered thought before he descended into eternal blackness was that now he would never be able to increase the size of the Legion of the Wall after all. ● Sandana looked up at her Papa and pouted. “Why can’t I play with it anymore?” She sat beside his armchair playing with her beautiful blonde-haired doll. The one her father had bought for her in a market some years before. The one she had treasured ever since. “You cannot, sweetheart.” Argam replied, smiling down at his beautiful daughter. He knew exactly what “it” she was referring to. “It is too dangerous.” Sandana had been afraid of the strange object, her former favourite, since it had started to glow and become warm some weeks before. But as time had gone by her curiosity, the great curiosity of a child, had returned and hear fear had been overcome. She wanted to play with it again.. to make it shine. “Yes, but Papa…” she began. “No, sweetheart.” He said, his voice kind but firm. “We don’t know what it is or what harm it can do. Play with your doll and your other toys.” Miffed, such as a 7-year old can be given the right circumstances (and this must be experienced), she looked away, a frown on her face, and thought how unfair the world was. ● It was the following early evening, just as the sun was setting, that there came a knock on their door. Argam looked with surprise toward the door since they did not expect any visitors. Nor was it common for anyone to visit them here at their farm. Could it be their neighbour, for a change? He did not live near but was the closest in this region. Telling his daughter to retreat to her room, he went carefully toward the door and opened it slowly. Outside stood an old woman in a slightly bent posture with grey hair, a wrinkled face and crooked front teeth. She wore a thick hooded cloak and carried a sack on her back which was filled with wood. “I have come as you called”, she said in an old and somewhat feeble voice. Her eyes were grey-green but intense, he noticed. He looked strangely back at her, his eyes questioning. “Called?” He enquired with a frown. “I have not called you, old lady.” “Lady, huh?” She chuckled. “No one has called me that for a long time.” Her eyes lit up. “But you did call me - and here I am.” A baffled expression came upon the man’s face as he looked outside to see if anyone else was about. The old woman seemed to be alone though. “Are you selling wood?” He tried, staring at what she was carrying. “Oh this?” She replied with an almost toothless grin. “No, this is for you. As payment.” “Payment?” Argam shook his head. Was this old woman out of her mind? “Payment for what?” “Payment for the Karanth, of course.” She grinned and there was a gleam in her eyes. “Karanth?” Argam had no idea what she was talking about and was going to ask her to leave when, to his great surprise, he instead asked her to join him inside. The old lady thanked him and followed him. Well inside, she turned toward him and set the sack of wood aside. “Yes, the Karanth you have kept in your family for generations.” She explained. “You have kept it honourably and safely for this day when I come to collect.” Argam was still baffled. He half-turned toward his daughter’s bedroom but quickly turned back. This was all so confusing. Who was the old lady!? Was this all real? Then suddenly an idea took root. The object! Did she mean the strange object? Was she here to take it away? Before he was able to consider his options, he found that he had fetched the object from where it had been hidden, the family heirloom, and had handed it to the old lady. What surprised him even more, was that he felt grateful that she would take this object and lift the burden from him. He was so pleased. ● “Papa”, Sandana whispered as she closed her bedroom door and walked softly toward him. “Is everything alright?” She looked wide-eyed up at the old lady, curiosity mixed with fear. Holding safely onto her father, she stared at the circular object which the old lady was now holding. The old woman saw her gaze and with a small smile produced a big Red apple from her sack. “Child, here is something for you.” She handed her the apple which looked very delicious. Argam smiled at the graciousness of this strange old lady who even showed kindness toward a child she did not know. Sandana took the big red apple carefully in her small hands, looking at it fondly, knowing it would be very tasty. When the old lady focused on the strange hand-sized circular object again, touching reverently its symbols and dark brown surface, Argam felt obliged to talk about it. “Do you know what it is?” He asked questioningly. “We have no idea. It suddenly started glowing a few weeks back and became warm to the touch. It frightened my daughter.” “My family has kept it safe for generations”, he added proudly, “not knowing what it was but understanding it has value.” “Oh yes, it has value for certain”, the old lady replied, her eyes glittering “And your family deserves gratitude for keeping it safe all these years.” The gratitude increased his happiness and he felt a tear run down his chin. “I will take it with me”, the old lady said kindly, “and keep it safe from now on. You no longer have to be its caretakers. The burden passes to me.” ● Argam thanked her several times, happy at last to be rid of the burden. Holding Sandana’s hand tightly, he watched as she walked away, the object now placed in her empty sack, and was soon lost from sight. It was only much later that night when he gradually came out of his daze, as he later came to think of it, that he wondered why he had so easily let the strange old lady take his family heirloom away, the object which he no longer could recall the name of, and why he had been so grateful to her for doing so. ● Just before going to bed that night, with the Moonlight shining down on her in silver slivers through the bedroom window, and with the howling of wolves in the far distance mingled with echoes of subtle laughter, Sandana took a big bite out of the big delicious-looking Red apple! ● Elessar had suggested they stay at the “White Lion inn” in central Caemlyn and Calia had agreed. He had stayed there on previous visits and it was a clean and decent inn with friendly-to-Aes Sedai owners. They were heading in that direction, passing one of the city’s plazas with several great monuments and beautiful fountains, when Elessar noticed a dark-haired woman standing at a street corner. He did not know why she in particular caught his eye, there was nothing extraordinary about her or the way she was dressed, but he did notice her and the image stayed in his mind as they rode onwards. She is probably some Noblewoman or other, he thought to himself, but she sure had been strikingly beautiful. When they finally arrived outside the establishment, they dismounted and the Warder brought their horses to the stable behind the inn. A lanky young stable boy, blond of hair with a face that perpetually grinned, smiled broadly when Elessar threw him a copper coin and told him to take very good care of their horses. Stormbreaker was still a little frisky and so Elessar whispered some calming words in his ear. He did not expect his mount to bite the stable boy, the black war horse was usually even-tempered, but the horse sometimes became a bit excited, it had been bred for war after all, and for strangers it could be prudent to stay alert. Joining his bondholder near the front entrance to the inn, beneath a hanging sign which depicted a white lion in stride, he followed her inside, carrying all their saddle bags. They were quickly met by a beaming innkeeper, a local man with a big smile and a large girth wearing an apron who claimed to remember Elessar from previous visits (which might be true or not true but either way pleased the Warder) and they were swiftly shown to their rooms up on the second floor. The Gaidin made sure his Aes Sedai was well settled in her room and then went to his own room, slightly smaller, next door and closed the door behind him. He placed the saddle bag in the corner, took off his travelling cloak and travelling boots, and then lay down on the bed closing his eyes for a moment. ● That evening they met up for a meal in the Common Room. It was nearly full but they found an available table near the back. Sitting opposite Calia, Elessar’s gaze swept over the room and took notice of every single detail in the way of alert Warders. The pretty and voluptuous redhead serving girl off to the side flirting with a grinning customer, the innkeeper running around between guests while trying to keep an eye on everything, the locals sipping wine and ale near the stage where a gleeman was playing the flute, the foreign travellers by the look of them gathered further back drinking quite heavily and chatting amicably, and the two bouncers standing beside the entrance, heavy set muscled no-nonsense guys ready to intervene at any sign of trouble. Elessar did not think there would be trouble this night though some of the guests present were quite loud, but things could get out of hand so it was wise to be prepared. They ordered some food and drink and waited until the pretty redhead serving girl returned. She winked at Elessar before she left. Sipping to his ale, the Gaidin listened to the gleeman, a short man in his late thirties with blond hair and a decent voice, tell the amusing tale of a lustful court bard who had an eye for married women. It seemed to be a local favourite because he got lots of applause when he was finished, many near the front banging their tables in appreciation. As he ate his meal, enjoying a steak with roasted potatoes, gravy and some local vegetables, Elessar thought about his previous visits to this city. Last time with Myrrhi, his former bondholder. And he thought about Old Celter. He would have to tell Calia about him some day. The story would for sure make her smile. When they had finished their meal, they talked a little about their journey from Tar Valon. They had not talked much while riding hard, wanting to get to Caemlyn as soon as possible, and had only rested when absolutely necessary. They were quite weary and looked forward to the couple of days here in the Andoran Capital before moving on southwards. First though, Elessar wanted to enjoy another poem and song by this gleeman, and when the blond man a little later spun his tale of a Lost Prince and a Maiden, the Warder listened eagerly and attentively with a smile on his face. Elessar was soon lost in the echoes of Legends and Fairytales. ● ►▼◄ ‘Ballad of the Lost Prince’ A Prince he Was, with duties Clear In Castle Great, there was no Fear He would not follow King’s Decree Or from the Land could swiftly Flee For our dear Prince a Love had Found A Maiden sweet, not Royal-Bound And so abscond, seemed only Choice He left his Life, Love oh ’Rejoice! The King sent soldiers, searching Far But found no Prince, ‘neath Heaven or Star Where could he be? The Prince was Lost In Land and Time, and borders Crossed But then Afar, a rumour Grew That Prince and Maiden, people Knew Were living in a village Small There hidden from the Royal Call The King sent soldiers there to Find His Son and Heir, his Oath to Bind The Prince, however, ran Anew Was Lost again, where? no one Knew Years they passed, no Prince was Seen As if the Heir had never Been The King gave up, the Queen’s tears Flowed Duty to King and country was Owed But then one day, a visitor Came He looked familiar, but said not his Name A farmer of Trade, he had Produce to Sell And insisted the King should buy as Well And lo and behold, it was their Son! Come back from Beyond, their eyes to Stun Embraced he had, new Life and Love Forsaking his Past, taking solace from Above The King and Queen were shocked but in Joy Their son was alive, now a man, not a Boy Forgiven was the Past, now a time to be Glad And meeting his Wife, a new family to be Had ►▲◄ ▀▄
  5. ELESSAR CONTACT - PM TIMEZONE - GMT+1 (CET) WANTED LINK - INTRO: I live in Norway in Northern Europe. Started my time at DM with RP in 1999 back near the beginning (when I also was part of Warder Org Staff). I left in 2000 for other priorities but returned in 2010 and have been here ever since writing regularly in DM RP and enjoying WoT talk/reading. CHARACTERS: Elessar Telcontar - White Tower - Warder (bonded to Calia Aes Sedai, Green Ajah) - BIO MISC: -
  6. DM Handle: Elessar Character’s name: Elessar Telcontar Age: 45 Place of Origin: Kandor, near Canluum Hair Colour: Black Eye Colour: Dark Height: 6’3” Weight: 225 Rank: Warder Bond: Bonded to Calia Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah Former Bonds: to Leandreen Sedai (Green), Carrain Sedai (Yellow), Carys Sedai (Yellow), Kathleen Sedai (Green), Myrrhi Sedai (Green) Weapon Score (old WS system): 18 (official and approved) Blademaster level Philosophy: The Flame and the Void Primary Weapon: Longsword Secondary Weapon: Hand to Hand Tertiary Weapon: Short Bow Warder Sword skill Elessar is quite a large man and so is not light on his feet, but he compensates with sword skills and techniques learned and refined over many years. Embraced in the Oneness - the calmness of the Void - Elessar becomes one with the sword and is very proficient/skilled in the dance of the blades having reached Blademaster level. Physical Appearance Fairly dark complexion, short dark hair and hard dark eyes. Strong build (result of hard physical training over several years). He has some battle-scars, most prominent is one across his abdomen. In fury over the death of his mother and his inability to prevent it, he shaved off his forked beard (so common in Kandori men) and never re-grew it. Personality (Mental & Emotional) Elessar is a strong believer in loyalty and in excelling at all he does. He believes in duty, service and honour and wants to make a difference in a changing world. Borderlander-born he hates the Shadow. He is kind despite his rather hard looks (he is often serious), is a bit of a loner but nice to be with once you get to know him, and, surprisingly for some, has a knack for -and interest in- poetry and old stories and legends (hence being called a “Warrior Poet” by his 1st bondholder). From an early age he had had a passion for both history and swordplay never seeing them as mutually exclusive. He wanted to enjoy both. On the negative side, he sometimes pushes himself too hard to excel, sets standards for himself that are often unreachable, and sometimes is a little too stubborn for his own good. He closes himself up too much. He lives with a stain upon his soul due to being unable to save his 1st bondholder from death, failing in his paramount duty as a Warder, a stain which haunts him at times but which he manages to cope with most of the time. It is, however, a part of him, a vulnerability, that will never disappear. Character History OOC Intro: Elessar has been a regularly active RPed Warder in DM RP for over a decade++, created as a character all the way back in 1999, and all the information below with other Aes Sedai characters is as roleplayed with approval at DM (canon). Elements have some places been summarized / simplified out of necessity. Origin: Elessar Telcontar, second son of a minor Kandorai House, was brought up by a harsh and unloving father and a kind but repressed mother-figure. His father, a proud man of fairly dark skin with angry dark eyes and a hard face, insisted he become a soldier and from an early age started weapon’s training, and physical training, with him, pushing him hard and unrelentingly. Elessar endured and in time started to enjoy the physical exertions and became better with the sword. As he grew he developed a strong muscular build and good fitness and in the many staged spar-fights he most often won against the other boys on the manor (boys of servants mostly). His elder brother Valdherien was more politically minded, the heir to the estate and title, and did not care much for the weapon’s training, while Elessar’s younger brother Vehran usually watched in awe while his older brother fought. Elessar did not take much interest in politics himself but enjoyed reading and - at times - writing poetry, something his father deplored (a waste he said) but his mother approved of. When Elessar neared the age of 17 he decided he would go to the White Tower in Tar Valon and join the Warders. He wanted to excel at swordplay and who better to be his teachers than the fabled Gaidin. His father was proud of him while his mother, though understanding - as did all Borderlanders - his eagerness to stand against the minions of the Shadow - looked at him with pride and kindness but also worry for the harshness she saw in her son. She knew he was kind at heart and very loyal, he had always been that, but he often pushed himself too hard and excelling almost became an obsession with him, an obsession she was afraid would destroy him one day. A short time before he left for Tar Valon his mother died of a fatal illness. She had been sick for quite a while but Elessar had somehow believed she would pull through, and her death created a coldness inside him and a fury that he had not been able to save her. Becoming a Warder: Upon reaching Tar Valon, Elessar enlisted with the Warders. In his training to become a Tower Guard and then a bonded Warder he learnt to focus his anger and mould it into strength and focus which he used to excel at swordplay. He became one with his sword and found that place and calm deep within, that Flame and Void, where he could focus his will and power as he improved his skills and learned his craft. A certain coldness still was within him - and always would be, he suspected - but he kept it in check and used his new ability to excel at what he did. After much training he finally passed the tests and reached his first goal: he was now a Tower Guard. The multitude of months had flown by as he had practiced his sword-skills in addition to learning all the other skills that Tower Guards had to learn to reach the proficiency the Tower demanded. As a Tower Guard, he kept on training, improving his skills, and served to the best of his ability. 2 years passed, and then one day, on a sunny spring day which he would never forget, he was approached by an Aes Sedai who was in need of a Warder. Her name was Leandreen and she was of the Green, the Battle Ajah. He joined her on several trips in the months that followed, to see how their working relationship functioned. Though both knew that he was obligated to serve in whatever capacity necessary, they also knew that for a Sedai and Warder to work well together they needed a certain understanding and “chemistry” for it to function well. She had said as much on that first day and he had nodded softly, in agreement. Bonds and RP-history Bond 1: Leandreen Aes Sedai (Green) They bonded after this period and their bond was one of companionship and friendship. His final goal reached, he worked as hard as he could to protect his Sedai and to do his duty honourably and well. They were a good and efficient team, travelling often in service to the Tower and enjoying the companionship, and Elessar’s world consisted, day and night, of protecting and serving his Sedai. It was a life with which Elessar was very content. It was what he was. It was who he would always be. It was all there was for him. It all ended on the day, many years later, when his Sedai died. They were on a mission for the White Tower and were caught in an ambush, by bandits, and Leandreen Aes Sedai was killed by an arrow in the heart. It all happened so quickly that she was unable to put up a shield of Saidar in time. Elessar felt the bond snap and in a moment of shock the world stood still for him. With a scream he ran to his fallen Sedai, but too late. In a terrible rage he stormed toward the bandits and dispatched of two men with his blade while the remaining bandits, who were on horseback, galloped away. Returning to his Sedai he knelt and lay her head in his lap as tears of sorrow and anger streamed down his face. He lifted his head to the sky and howled in fury. In near-madness he headed for the Blight a little to the north to avenge her not caring if it would be his death. All that mattered to him was vengeance and to strike at the hated Shadow. Bond 2: Carrain Aes Sedai (Yellow) Carrain Aes Sedai, a Sister of the Yellow Ajah, travelling in that region, found him there a little while later. She approached him very carefully, spoke with him in measured tones, and saw his loss and his extreme rage. She knew that like most Warders who lose their bondholder in death Elessar was losing his will to live and was ready to throw away his life in some berserker rage, likely against the Shadow. And so to save his life, and to give him new purpose, she bonded him against his will. He went through a difficult time in the following months, the anger in his heart only slowly lessening, but he embraced his new duty and focused everything on protecting and serving his Sedai to the best of his ability. As time went by he slowly became himself again and a friendship grew between them and for several years they worked well together for the benefit of the White Tower and the Light. A stain upon his soul like a wound that would never quite heal remained, however, from his inability to save Leandreen and fulfil his paramount duty as a Warder (“my life before yours”) and in periods he felt this perceived darkness within though for the most part he functioned well in his role. Bond 3: Carys Aes Sedai (Yellow) After around 4 years unbonded in the White Tower, serving as a Tower Guard again for the most part but also a few times as a messenger outside Tar Valon, he met Carys Sedai of the Yellow Ajah who was to become his 3rd bondholder. A Yellow Ajah Investigation party from the White Tower was in Cairhien and Elessar was accompanying an Aes Sedai there. At one point in a dark alley he sensed something was wrong and ran toward the cloaked figure of a woman, even before he knew what he was doing, and with a shout of warning and a massive leap he threw himself at her, carrying them both crashing to the ground, just as a deadly arrow embedded itself in the building just behind where she had been standing a moment earlier. A second arrow whistled in the air and narrowly missed them both. A third arrow, however, was embedded in his left leg and he began to feel dizzy and realized the arrow had been poisoned. He lost consciousness but was found and Healed by an Aes Sedai. Waking up, he saw her standing near him, the woman who had saved his life. It was Carys. It was the same woman he had saved. So they had saved each other’s lives and were inadvertently indebted to each other. They talked a little later when they reached the estate but when Elessar mentioned returning to Tar Valon she faced his squarely and said “I would prefer that you stay here rather than leave for Tar Valon. We have need for a Warder here, especially me, apparently having stumbled onto something close to the hearts of those we are pursuing. Someone is aiming poisoned arrows at me and Saidar cannot Heal death; I cannot Heal myself. I … would feel safer if I had someone to guard my back as I search.” Elessar felt conflicting emotions. He met her eyes but did not reply. Part of him felt duty-bound and honour-bound to assist her, she was Aes Sedai after all, but part of him protested. Guilt surfaced in his thoughts, guilt and shame from having failed Aes Sedai before. If she put her trust in him and he failed.. what then? Could he live with that? Eventually he decided that he must assist this Sister of the White Tower who he also owed a great debt. She appreciated his help standing by her side almost as if he were her Warder. Some time later, as they hunted their enemies, Elessar triggered a booby trap and was almost killed and only by major Healing from the Yellow Sister and bonding him to give him added strength mental and physical did he survive. They were joined now in a bond of hope as Warder and Sedai and went on several new adventures/missions for the White Tower in the following years. As time went by, however, Carys wanted to spend more time in the White Tower, Healing in the Infirmary, and so they were in Tar Valon almost all the time. Elessar understood his bondholder’s choice, she was a Yellow after all, but often felt restlessness and missed being out on the road. Her also felt somewhat useless, for what danger could face Carys here in the White Tower that she needed to be protected from? And how could he make a difference in the world staying in Tar Valon. Carrain had been happier on the road as had Carys in the beginning. He got a bad conscious for complaining for it was his duty to be at her side, after all. Even so this all was something he was unable to shrug off. When Carys of a sudden mentioned that she planned to pass his bond to another Aes Sedai, he was caught totally off guard and reacted in anger, saying he would not be passed on “like a sack of potatoes”. ‘To death and beyond’ a Warder served, that was what he had promised his bondholders. That was what he had promised Carys. That was what she had accepted. Now he would be unable to fulfil his duty to her. It was like a broken pact. There was sadness because of their close friendship - and partnership - as Warder and Sedai, a friendship which had strengthened as time had passed, a friendship which meant much to him, and - he knew - to her. But there was also, when he managed to process his feelings, a sense of relief, because giving him a new bondholder would solve his frustrating situation, would give him the chance to shed his current anguish and make it possible for him to fulfil his Warder-duties out in the world, out of this ‘cage’ which the White Tower had become for him. He felt a little shame to think so, considering he was as a Warder dutybound in whatever capacity was needed, but he could not quite help himself. Carys explained that she was sorry, which was not something one normally hears from an Aes Sedai but which she thought he deserved given their history. That she had been called back and that she hadn’t make time for him, for them, and that she had let the distance between them grow so far. She was also sad that she was the cause of his unhappiness. “You have fulfilled my every command and request as Warder, of course.” She said. “Perhaps unknowingly, you also became my dearest friend. Your pain is my pain and it's crippling us both. Each going through the motions but unable to truly commit to how our lives have changed due to the missive I received.. more simply put, Elessar, I hate seeing you this way. I hate knowing that I'm the cause..” She paused. “But I think I may have found a solution, short of death.. I think I have found a way to pass the Bond to another, willing, Aes Sedai..” He thanked her for her warm words and said he was sorry too. He told her why not being able to serve and protect her for life troubled him, as was his duty and purpose, but that he understood her arguments and her solution. When she said that the Aes Sedai in question who could take his bond was Kathleen Sedai of the Green Ajah, he smiled inside with some relief since he had met Kathleen a few times before in the White Tower together with her other Gaidin and they had spoken freely and with kindness. Also she was Green and he had felt an affinity with the Battle Ajah from his days with Leandreen. Green Sisters were also often out of the White Tower, on missions and fighting the Shadow, which suited him the best. Bond 4: Kathleen Aes Sedai (Green) A short time later the bond was passed from Carys to Kathleen Sedai of the Green Ajah who became Elessar’s 4th bondholder. He had met her a few times as mentioned in part because he needed someone to talk to due to his anguish over his situation, in part because he felt drawn to the Battle Ajah. Now as they were Warder and Aes Sedai they would build on this shared trust and, as it turned out, view of the world. In the time that followed they went on missions for the White Tower, got to know one another better, in a Warder-Sedai partnership based on friendship (Elessar was not a believer in a bond which went beyond friendship anyway, he had always been of the opinion that bonds built on love would make them vulnerable in stress situations and less able to fulfil their duties). After a while they were sent on a mission to the Borderlands. Kathleen’s other Warder was elsewhere on a personal mission and so she and Elessar headed northwards. Carys and what had happened still stayed with him but he was able to focus on what he thought of as his “renewed” purpose and duty in the Light, happy to be out on the road again. It was another New Beginning which he appreciated. Leandreen’s emerald eyes faced his in his dreams, sometimes in anger and betrayal, other times with kindness as would be the case in the years that followed and he kept working on keeping the stain on his soul - his eternal guilt - in check. That they were heading toward Kandor made him recollect that he had spoken very little to Kathleen about his past. He needed to open up a little, he owed it to her to show trust. He knew from his previous Bonds how important it was that a Warder and Sedai trusted each other, only then could they function as an efficient team. Trust came from familiarity and some personal knowledge. Trust came from openness and honesty. And so he told her about his past, about the boy he had been in the Borderlands, about growing up there and what made him journey to the White Tower at age 17. She appreciated learning his history and thanked him for sharing. She shared her compassion and offered her comfort and her ear, late into the night, something he appreciated. She also assured him that if he wished to stop in his old stomping ground she would be honoured to accompany him there. He had not been at his old home in Kandor for a long time. Going back would bring him joy but also possible pain. Unsure he did decide in the end that it was worth visiting his home anew. Travelling further north he shared with her his passion for history and stories, of old poetry and legends, while keeping their end destination at the back of his mind. He felt they were working well together and when Kathleen shared some painful memories with him it was a reflection of his trust in her. To him it made their connection feel even stronger and despite their different backgrounds and different struggles in life it made him think of them as kindred spirits. They entered the Borderland Kingdom of Kandor one afternoon and headed toward the city of Canluum which was near the Telcontar Estate. Upon stops Kathleen brought forth a journal and pen from her travelling bag, which made him think of Carys, his former bondholder, who had also travelled with such a journal in which she had drawn and written on occasion. When he asked, out of curiosity, she said this was the journal she had started during her days as Initiate of the Greens. Some miles south of the estate, they stopped in a small town. Elessar felt pride at being back in his old homeland something which surprised him a little. "There is something I want you to see". Elessar said, as he led his Bondholder to the ruins of an old building-structure on the western part of the small town. It had been a stable of sorts once, paired with a small building that had housed a smithy, but now it was all worn down and had been abandoned long since. "Father used to take us here on occasion when I was a boy". He explained, gazing at the ruins as memories came back to him. "My brothers and I would play outside while my father talked with the owner inside. There were horses here and a smithy as well. I remember picking up bits and pieces of metal that had been discarded by the blacksmith and pretending it was a warrior’s sword I was holding and that I was a famous warrior, swinging the blade heroically against imagined opponents of the Shadow. " An amused smile came upon his lips at the adventurous dreams of young boys. "This was always one of my favourite places in this town and I always begged father to go here whenever we visited." As they neared the estate, thoughts of his family swirled in his mind. How would his old, frail father welcome him? Bitter memories stirred inside him and he tried to push them aside, though with only partial success. Will you always blame me for Vehran’s death, father? He had been playing by the river many years before and his youngest brother Vehran had accidentally drowned. His father had ever since blamed Elessar for not protecting his brother, therein blaming Elessar for his death. The Warder feared his father would never forgive him. He had never forgiven himself for not being able to save his poor mother from dying. The Telcontar family had its share of griefs. The family reunion became a mixed blessing. His younger brother Valdherien, lord of the manor welcomed them to the estate, happy to see Elessar, but his father was still a bitter man who reminded Elessar of his betrayal of Vehran as he called it. Elessar begged him to see sense and for them to end this long strife which was tearing the family apart but his father would not listen. Elessar then showed Kathleen, his bondholder, the estate and walked with pride in his step shrugging off his father’s ill-spoken words. When their business in Kandor was done, they travelled east toward Arafel. In early afternoon some days later 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, both lost in private thoughts. Little did he know that only days later he would be riding south toward Tar Valon, the change within him impossible to ignore, as he no longer could feel Kathleen through the bond. She had released his bond, ending their Warder-Sedai partnership, ending his duty for her. He was in a kind of shock as he rode, miles upon miles, trying to understand what could not be understood. Kathleen had private reasons for ending their bond and he had no right to press her on the issue though he was deeply disappointed. It was another life changing situation for him and he wondered, when a black mood came upon him, if they would never end. Kathleen was an honourable woman and an Aes Sedai of great integrity but he was saddened by the fact that they would no longer be a bonded couple in the Light. Bond 5: Myrrhi Aes Sedai (Green) Elessar spent more years in the White Tower as a Tower Guard, performing his duty competently but never forgetting his former bonds and the Aes Sedai he had been of service to. One day, as he was doing sword forms in the Warder’s Yard, a young-looking woman was watching him intently from not far away. She wore an Accepted’s dress, he saw. Meeting her eyes across the distance between them, he gave her a polite nod. She introduced herself, a little unsteadily, as Myrrhi Morrigen and said she had some questions for him, for her studies. He smiled and said he would give answers as he could. This was to be his first meeting with Myrrhi who later was to become his new bondholder. They spoke on several occasions and once trust was built they shared stories. They gradually developed a close friendship over time, beginning with those visits as a Tower initiate to the Warder’s Yard as part of her training, the ‘incident’ in the Tar Valon streets and, not least, the elaborate horse-riding lessons he had given her a few years back and the dramatic, oh-so-secret, near-death experience she had had then. He had subsequently helped her with physical training exercises and had given her different kinds of advice when needed. He had from the beginning seen something of a young Leandreen in her, which had appealed to him, a passionate young woman with a warrior’s heart, and had appreciated her friendship and their many pleasant talks. And now, finally, she had been raised Aes Sedai. Time had passed but he remembered her well. The last time they had met she had looked.. questioningly at him as if she wanted to ask him something but was not sure how. More time passed and then, as fate would have it, one day in Ebou Dar in the far south he suddenly saw her striding toward him. She was Aes Sedai now and it was the first time he saw her since she had been raised to the Shawl. She was now a Battle Ajah Sister. Like Leandreen and Kathleen. They spoke a little and then found a place to sit in private. Myrrhi spoke a little about the hard last months before she took the Test to be raised, then stopped and met his eyes squarely. "I was wondering", she begun carefully, "now that I am a fully raised Sister, ... If you would agree to become my Warder." A panicked gleam came to Elessar’s eyes as he thought of the horror of seeing Myrrhi die in his arms.. He trembled as he replied that he could not! With the look of a wounded animal, his eyes wide, his hands shaking, all self-control lost, he sprang up from his chair in a sudden, abrupt motion, making Myrrhi almost jump out of her skin, crossed the room in long strides without looking back, tore the library-door open, and slammed it behind him on his way out! Later he felt shame over his outburst and that weakness had pushed all other thoughts away. Myrrhi deserved so much better but the fear of him failing her was too strong to overcome at the moment. Some days later they met again and decided to take a ride together out of the city to find a place to talk some more. This time Elessar spoke of Leandreen and the haunting dreams he had of her at times and his fear of failing in his duty again. And Myrrhi understood that Elessar had never learned how to forgive himself. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said that death was inevitable for everyone, and that all that could be expected was that one did the best one could in the time one had. She added the risks the Green Ajah knew they were taking in their service to the Light, and that Leandreen, a cherished Sister, would be remembered - and honoured - for her service. He should not feel blame for what happened to her, she said, nor look upon it as his failure. "It will only be one", she added, "if you let it destroy you." Later in Ebou Dar they fought enemies and ended up saving one another from death. It reminded Elessar of what had happened with him and Carys and the bond it had created between them. “This is my Sacred Duty as a Warder; an Honour and a Sacred Trust.” He said with renewed confidence. “This is who I am -and- this is what I want. I am ready now.” It was, for Elessar, an important step on his Path of Redemption. “My Life before Yours. He said reverently. And Light streamed into his Soul as they forged a Bond of Redemption. Theirs was a successful bond and partnership for several years and it was one Elessar would always remember with fondness. It ended one day as Myrrhi was called back to the White Tower and his bond was released yet another time for personal reasons. And Elessar had a new path to walk once again. Bond 6, current: Calia Aes Sedai (Green) In the years that followed he returned to his duties protecting the White Tower as a Tower Guard. It was not his preferred service but he was loyal as always and kept on focusing on doing his duties with excellence. He trained regularly in the Warder’s Yard, did his messenger duties and kept the few friendships he had with other Gaidin. He was getting on in years by now, in his early 40s and was one of the older and most experienced Warders in the Tower. He dreamt of another bond and being out in the world fighting the Shadow but knew younger Warders would be preferred by Sisters and so he tempered his expectations. Then of a sudden he was ordered to accompany an Aes Sedai on a mission to Falme on the west coast. She did not have a Bonded Warder and Elessar would take on the role as protector and companion on the road. He was overjoyed at this opportunity and enjoyed his time outside Tar Valon on this mission. It was some time later that he met Calia in the White Flame inn in Tar Valon. One evening she approached his table and asked if she could sit with him since the inn was full. “Please, Aes Sedai”, Elessar replied kindly and in his usual formal way, with a respectful Warder’s bow. “The honour is mine.” He added. “ I am Elessar of Kandor.” They spoke a little and the way she held herself made him think of Leandreen, Kathleen and Myrrhi too. There was a particular strength in Green Sisters, the Warder had found over the years, and not just physical but just as much of character, a passion for life mingled with steel to survive war, something not as easily found in other Aes Sedai. They walked together back to the White Tower when they were set upon by thugs. Together, she using the One Power and he using his proficient hand-to-hand skills, they overcame the threat and took them back to the White Tower for questioning. Some time later the White Tower assembled Sedai and Warders for a mission to the Borderlands and Elessar was asked to join. Calia was one of the Sisters also going and they travelled north toward Saldaea where an army of the Shadow was gathering. This was the start of a mission that saw the two of them bonding in the Light, to Elessar’s delight, having found they seemed to be kindred spirits and shared the same values and grit and determination to stand fast against the Shadow. Theirs will be a bond of Faith as they stand together, loyally and faithfully, strongly and with integrity, as Warder and Sedai in proud enduring service to the Light. ▀▄
  7. .. A New Quest Begins: The Seal of Forbidding .. ►▼◄ This I attest, in the Light According to our ancient historic records, Seven cuendillar discs, each bearing the Ancient Symbol of the Aes Sedai (a white teardrop and a black teardrop conjoined) were created at the end of the Age of Legends as focus points, or anchors, to Seal and hold the Dark One in his prison. The discs themselves are not Seals but have in common usage been referred to as Seals over the generations, or the Great Seals. They are believed to be the size of a man's hand and should be unbreakable, but after extensive research I do believe there is a distinct possibility that the entropic influence of the Dark One could cause them to weaken to such an extent that they could shatter from a fall to the ground or being struck by a man with a hammer. No certain knowledge of this exists anywhere but it is, I believe, prudent to keep in mind this possible eventuality and not count on the Seals staying unbroken for all time. The secret location of these Seals has, I believe, been unknown since the Trolloc Wars. Before that time our historic records indicate that the Amyrlin Seat knew, hence her historic title “Watcher of the Seals”. The knowledge was, unfortunately, lost in time, and no Seals have so far as I know been found and searches by the White Tower have been unsuccessful. Despite the clear and evident inherent danger, since it is certain that the Shadow will hunt for them also and, in their case, certainly to destroy them to free their Great Lord, it is of utmost importance that the White Tower find and recover several of these Seals to keep them safe and protected from the Shadow until Tarmon Gai’don, the Last Battle is upon us. We must sacrifice what must be sacrificed to achieve this goal, of that there is no doubt. They are Seals of Forbidding. They are our Salvation. Added Note to “The History of the White Tower” Chapter 77, part 14d 571 NE, the 3rd Age Evahlia Semerehn Sedai Brown Ajah ● It was a moonlit Night and the bright Stars spread out across the far horizons like burning gems on a canvas of deep blackness. Rays of silver from the shining moon rained down on the Aryth Ocean making it almost glitter in reflections as the Sea Folk Raker sped through the ocean waves borne on Winds of Providence. Carah din Toral Rising Wave, a tall dark-skinned woman with grey streaked hair, a grave face and with four rings - of good quality metal - in each ear, one of them being connected to her nose by a chain, a sign of her higher rank, stood proudly on the Quarterdeck of her ship gazing into the far horizon. The Raker, which was named Oceanfold, was a large vessel with multiple decks, easily a hundred paces long, with three towering masts amidships, and one shorter one on the raised sterndeck. It had large triangular as well as somewhat smaller white squared sails, and a very narrow body, as was common in such ships, that made for great speed across oceans. She had begun aboard a ship as a deckhand many many years before, in the Atha'an Miere tradition, and had worked herself gradually up through the ranks. She had finally fulfilled her life-long ambition and gained the honoured rank of Sailmistress with her own vessel - and she felt as protective of her ship as she would of a child. ● She shifted her gaze from the dark horizon to the front of the ship where her Windfinder of many years, Morin din Rubai Blue Wing, stood directing the ship’s course through the soft wind and currents. Morin was a handful years younger than Carah but just as experienced on the seas. Her dark skin and hair gave her a handsome look rather than beautiful and like many of her Sisters she wore tattoos on her hands of stars and seabirds surrounded by the curls and whirls of stylized waves. She was very accomplished at Weaving the Winds, strong in the One Power and especially at channeling Air and Water, thick weaves that never failed to impress her sister Windfinders, and she had served her Sailmistress faithfully for many years. In some ways she felt this was her ship too, and she felt very protective of it. The Sailmistress shifted her gaze back to the blue-black horizon, standing there for several minutes in silence, feeling the soft breeze on her cheeks and tasting the salt in the air. The Sea had always been her Home, holding her in its cold but oh so familiar and shielded Embrace. She should have gone to bed to get a few hours sleep but she was too excited to rest. The orders she had received from her Wavemistress, leader of her Clan, several days earlier had thrilled her. Head southwards. Our oceans are no longer quiet. The Time of Reckoning could be upon us. She had waited for years for a chance to battle the Shadow. Now she might get her chance; she felt it in her bones. For who else would send fleets of ships eastward on the Aryth Ocean? Her dark eyes glinted in fierce anticipation. ● It was early morning, the sun just rising in the far horizon, as Elessar Telcontar Gaidin of Kandor walked across the Warder’s Yard in Tar Valon and readied himself for his training session. A few fellow Warders were also up and about but most of the Yard was empty. Later it would be filled with Warder trainees going through the motions under the guidance of Warder tutors, and gawking Accepted watching from the sideline, but now there was plenty of space for Elessar to find a spot and he selected one on the yard’s north end. There was no wind for a change (the almost perpetual soft breeze that seemed to hang over Tar Valon was momentarily gone..) and he ignored the small chill in the air as he removed his shirt and readied himself. Unfolding the Fan, the opening move, which flowed into Low Wind Rising, a diagonal slash which began low and rose cleanly, followed by The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain, a vertical slash starting high and which in this case altered course in mid-swing, paired with Tower of Morning, a vertical slash but this time beginning low and ending high. In the Flame and the Void he felt complete calmness and truly felt one with his sword, a participant in a never-ending dance of motion. A few pearls of sweat beaded on his bare chest, arms and forehead after a while as he moved efficiently through the forms, his focus all on his imagined opponent before him. The Falling Leaf and then straight into The River Undercuts the Bank. He then improvised in a fashion only highly skilled swordsmen were able and moved dynamically from one sword form into another, combining forms creatively, flowing smoothly from stance to stance. He kept on going for quite some time until at last he ended the session with Folding the Fan, sheathing his blade. The sword was smoothly swung around from guard stance and sheathed, all in one motion. He breathed a little heavily, but that was to be expected after this exertion, and he dried himself with the towel he had brought. ● Gazing across the Yard, Elessar waved to another Gaidin who had just finished his forms some way off and received a friendly wave in return. He then grabbed his things and started walking towards the building that housed the Warders quarters. As he walked his mind turned to what Calia, his Aes Sedai bondholder, had told him the evening before. They were going on a new journey, or ‘adventure’ as she had teasingly named it with a gleam in her sparkling blue eyes. To be frank, Elessar was happy with the news. He did not yet know what kind of mission they were going on this time but after a couple months in the White Tower after their return from Saldaea he was becoming restless and felt the urge to get out on the road again. It had been good to get back to Tar Valon and to rest and heal properly after the battle in the north, but for the past few weeks Calia had seen his increasing uneasiness, Elessar unable to hide his restlessness. Now that they were being sent on a new mission, and a very important one at that, she thought they would be able to kill two birds with one stone. ● “This place is just an echo of what was.” Qariahna mumbled to herself as she stared pensively at the buildings that crowded the Inner City of Caemlyn. “Nothing more than an echo.” She appreciated the quality of the Ogier stonework - the Alantin had always been skilled - but this city was still a poor reflection of the amazing cities she had seen back in her home world, in what these people now called the Age of Legends. Gazing upwards into the semi-clouded blue sky she travelled in her mind - and remembered. V'saine, her home city. A city of many wonders. A city of unsurpassed beauty. ..with the Collam Daan, its perhaps most famous wonder, a great university of silver and blue domes whose architecture was overshadowed only by the Sharom that floated overhead. The S’idhan, the magnificent colourful gardens that flowed and streamed across the meadow of Kehliar in wondrous winding spirals that never seemed to end. The marble palaces of V'saine, filled with bridges and walkways of such grandeur and beauty and ingenuity that architects travelled all the way from Jalanda and Mar Ruois to experience them. And of course the Ja’ahl in the sky, that incredible monument to mankind’s achievements.. She remembered it all as if it were yesterday and not thousands of years ago. And it was all destroyed in the war. The war that never seemed to end. The war they should have won. We should have conquered! She thought angrily. And preserved that beauty and wonder of a thousand years! ● Her dark eyes tightened and she pushed some strands of hair away from her eyes in irritation. Such incredible beauty and magnificence destroyed. Never to be seen again. Never to be copied. Only to be reflected in a few moments, here and there, in this very imperfect world. Suppressing her anger, she shifted her gaze to the majestic Royal Palace in the distance, there it sat on a hill dominating the Andoran capital. A mischievous grin came upon the Chosen’s face for a fleeting moment before it became smooth again. Her long dark hair flowed down her back, over the green-blue blouse and travelling dress she was wearing this day. She touched the purple hairpin she often wore, a powerful Angreal, and also the ring she wore on her right ringfinger. It seemed to be a simple ring of steel but she knew better. She was not holding onto the One Power, she had in fact masked her ability to channel so as to stay hidden from.. inquiring parties.. but it felt good to have these objects at hand. For when they become necessary. An elegant carriage Andoran in style drawn by four black horses passed by in the street, the driver giving the beasts a taste of the whip to hurry them along. It was probably some local Nobleman or other, the Chosen thought to herself with little interest. She also ignored all the sounds and smells and bustle of the city around her as people hurried past on private errands and official errands and loud eager shopkeepers kept selling their produce and wares to enquiring customers. Her interest grew, however, as two middle-aged seeming women, one tall and one shorter but both striding confidently in tandem, passed close by where she was standing at a street corner. They paid her no mind, engaged in conversation as they were, but the scar on Qariahna’s left cheek started burning. She had recognized their smooth Aes Sedai-features straight away even without the accompanying Warders and as often when she thought of Aes Sedai anger rose in her. High and mighty Sisters. They betrayed us! That she had once been Aes Sedai herself she had almost wiped from her mind. As far as she was concerned, it had never happened. She had always been better, always been Chosen. In her heart. Watching the Sisters of the White Tower head almost imperiously up the hill towards the Royal Palace, people moving quickly out of their way, Qariahna calmed herself again and focused anew on her new orders. One of these days, I will be the one giving orders, not taking them! Her dark eyes burned with black intensity, as the air seemed to ripple momentarily. A shadow passed over the sun for a moment, momentarily darkening the afternoon and bringing with it a sudden chill, or at least so it seemed to many of the city’s surprised and wide-eyed citizens. ● Rays of gold reflected in the marble domes towering over the Imperial Seanchan Capital of Seandar. The Deathwatch Guard stood at attention in the late morning sun. They were the elite Seanchan personal guards to the Seanchan Empress, Ilahna Erem Sani Paendrag blessed of her name. The Deathwatch Guard, an elite division that was particularly honoured and valued, was made up of both men and Ogier Gardeners, but the main force was Warrior Ogier, resplendent in their famous armour which was lacquered red and green, the latter colour so dark that it was commonly thought of as black, the colour of death. The humans were da'covale - slaves - and were the private property of the Empress. The ranks in the Deathwatch Guard stood a half step above those in the Ever Victorious Army, the Seanchan military forces. They were the elite, the best, trusted for protection and missions not given to others. But since they were the elite, more was expected of them - and if they failed they were more heavily punished. It was well known that if a person the Deathwatch Guard was protecting died, the remaining human guards were executed. Samak Therade, the tall dark-skinned, shrewd-eyed General and Commander of the Deathwatch Guard, watched his troops with pride. Row upon row they stood at attention with weapons at the ready, their armour shining as a strong breeze drifted in from the Aryth Ocean. He started his inspection round, going from soldier to soldier, checking details on uniforms, speaking a few words to a soldier here and then, his manner gruff but professional as he went through the ranks. Finally he stepped to the front of the ranks and shouted the ancient Seanchan battle cry. “For the Empress!” He shouted, raising his right arm - and the battle cry was echoed along the huge plaza before the Crystal Throne, the seat of the Empress at the Court of the Nine Moons. Then every single member of the Deathwatch Guard as one bowed to their seasoned Commander, on one knee in the sun. ● Watching from a building and a balcony above the plaza, opposite to the Royal Imperial Palace, Delerihn Lehndre, a medium tall, heavy set man of dark complexion with short black hair and deep brown eyes, nodded to himself. The Deathwatch Guard was indeed impressive. As was the Ever Victorious Army. His dark eyes shifted to the blue skies above and he spotted a Raken flying northwards. They were, he knew, creatures with a body considerably longer than a horse and about equal in girth, with leathery grey skin and large powerful wings much like those of a bat. Ideal mounts for scouting and/or sending messages, as the Raken could fly at around three to four times the speed of a running horse. They were, he also knew, ridden by morat'raken, special Seanchan fliers of which three out of five were women. A shadow atop the Raken indicated the person flying though he could not see from this far distance whether it was a woman or a man. Not that it mattered. What mattered was, he thought slyly with a black gleam in his eyes, his hands on the balcony railing, the blue gemstone on his left ring finger sparkling: the Seanchan were going to War! ● Silvahria woke abruptly from the dream and for a moment was not sure where she was. Then she remembered - and breathed more slowly, gathering her thoughts. It was the dream. The one she kept having far too often. The one that always started at the moment of the betrayal. The betrayal of her, her work and her significant research. In her dream she was re-enacting the murder of her co-worker and assistant at the laboratory, the young man Senath, with the bloodied knife sticking out of his throat. Senath who had betrayed her, who had in fact stolen her research. Oh they had praised her in the beginning, showing their pride that one of their own - and a woman to boot! - had solved the obstacles they had faced with regards to practical use of accelerated particle division in the production of high-tech wind power. But then Senath had begun taking credit for some of the work, gradually whispering in ears and convincing the entire Ver Salidh science facility that she was a fraud and they had all turned on her. In rage and humiliation she had confronted her devious assistant who had only laughed in her face, calling her a liar, a naïve woman, and saying that no one believed her anymore and that she would be sacked soon for the despicable fraud she was. The way he had laughed spitefully at her had made her mad with rage and in a psychotic moment she had grabbed the knife before knowing what she did and soon it had stood out from his throat, blood flowing onto the floor amid his endless screams. Finally only silence had remained as blood had continued flowing in streams across the white sterile facility floor. ● She had fled the science facility in panic and had hidden in the home of a friend from her school days until she discovered that she was being hunted by the Aes Sedai authorities for murder. She knew she would never get a fair trial and the penalty would either be death or Severing, cutting her off from the One Power, and either way it would be the death of her, she felt. Her only way of surviving, her only protection as she saw it, was to join those rebels who had renounced the Aes Sedai and the Light and given new Oaths to the Dark One and the Shadow. The thought made her sick to the bone, but she had no other choice as she saw it, and in desperation for survival and anger at what had been done to her, she escaped and eventually found her way to Shayol Ghul where she knelt before the Great Lord of the Dark in desperation, pledging her Soul to the Shadow in return for the promise of safety and immortality. In the War of Power, as it came to be known, as one of Those Chosen To Rule The World Forever, she did what she could in service of the Great Lord, using her specialist knowledge of wind power machination combined with the One Power to make a fearsome weapon that was used with great success in several battles. She was respected now, she was appreciated for her eminent skill, not cheated out of her glory as had been the case at the science facility and any doubts of her purpose in life and her dark allegiance were gradually removed. Coldness, pride and hatred found its place in her heart, hatred against all who had wronged her and especially against her former Aes Sedai brethren. Even the word ‘Aes Sedai’ left a foul taste in her mouth as she joined the forces of the Shadow in the war. Forsaken they had called her and her new brethren, and she had embraced the name in glee and rid herself of her original three names in a dark cleansing of the soul. She would forever more be known as Silvahria. ● Riding beside his bondholder Calia Aes Sedai across the magnificent arching bridge over the River Erinin which connected the island city of Tar Valon with the mainland, Elessar Gaidin thought about the long journey that awaited them to Ebou Dar in the far south. He had been there several times in the past, on missions with different Sedai bondholders, and he knew the journey south well. The main road would take them first to Caemlyn in Andor, then to Lugard in Murandy, before entering north-eastern Altara. Ebou Dar, the Capital, lay on the southern coast, straddling the River Eldar. A beautiful city in many ways, a place of many reflections, but also a place where danger could lurk in Shadows, as he had experienced all to well. One would have to stay alert at all times. And he intended to. ● He had always been happiest when on the road, on missions for the White Tower with his Sedais, fighting the Shadow in ways big and small, and he had been on many quests over the years. Even so, each journey was different and each became a valuable learning experience. On this journey he thought he and Calia would get to know one another better too. They had worked well together in Saldaea but there was still much to learn for each of them. Looking sideways at Calia upon her mare, her green travelling cloak flowing behind her, he could not read her mood but he thought he saw a sparkle in her blue eyes as she gazed forwards toward the mainland in the distance. Stormbreaker, his valiant black warhorse, seemed happy to be on the road as well and whinnied enthusiastically every few minutes for the first half mile which brought a smile to Elessar’s lips. People on the bridge moved to the side as they rode past and, as always, many gave them looks of reverence. Some did not, of course, but Elessar was used to people being ambivalent about the White Tower and the Aes Sedai. So it would always be, even this close to their domain. One man, of middling years wearing the dusty worn attire of a seasoned traveller, walking beside his horse, stared angrily at the Warder and Sedai from underneath his lowered hood as they rode past him and disappeared further down the mile-long bridge. He stared after them long after they were gone from sight, his one blind eye twitching nervously. ● As they finally reached the end of the tall bridge, passing the last of the magnificent arches as the clear waters of the Erinin far below kept streaming southwards, the Sun climbed high in the cloudless sapphire-blue sky and Elessar felt those golden Rays from above warming his face. It was a good sign, he thought silently to himself, as they left the Shining Walls behind in the distance, a good omen for the start of a New journey for him and Calia. There are neither Beginnings nor Endings to the Wheel of Time. But it was A Beginning. ▀▄
  8. .. The Light of Tar Valon .. ►▼◄ The Sun was Shining.. in a beautiful ocean-blue afternoon sky, with a soft breeze coming out of the far west, as Elessar Gaidin of Kandor and Calia Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah came in sight of the Shining Walls of Tar Valon. The Tar Valon party returning from the battle with the Shadow north in Saldaea were glad again to see the city that over the years had become their home. It had been a long journey in varying weather conditions and general weariness prevailed among its members. Riding near the front aside his bondholder Calia, Elessar studied the people they passed, as always vigilant and focused. Most of the people were local farmers and business folk heading to and from the city with the odd foreigner and wanderer among them. They all looked respectfully at the Sisters of the White Tower as they rode passed, giving the Gaidin looks of respect too. One little boy, blond-haired, scruffy-looking and gaunt but stronger than he looked, perhaps six or so of age, looked wide-eyed at the tall and strong-looking armed Warders riding by, and dreamed of one day becoming a Warder-hero himself. Soon they all rode slowly, in orderly columns, across one of the many magnificent arching bridges over the River Erinin connecting the island city to the mainland. Elessar’s dark eyes glinted and turning in his saddle to Calia he thought he recognized a small sparkle in her blue eyes too. Stormbreaker, his valiant black warhorse, pricked up its ears as they crossed the bridge, as if sensing that this journey was nearing its end. Fabled Dragonmount rose in the distance, a place of history and legend, 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. ● “Mariahna Arinahl, come with me!” The Mistress of Novices met the young blond woman’s eyes with a firm but kind stare and recognized the mixed emotions in the Novice’s eyes; exhilaration mixed with some fear. Mariahna caught her breath, having known for a while that this moment was coming but even so now that it was here she felt.. unprepared. She had been a Novice for twelve years, ever since she was brought to the White Tower at sixteen, and had shown average progress throughout her time in the Tower. Some of the girls who had started with her had been Accepted a couple of years but there also were a few who it seemed were nowhere near being Raised. Curtsying to the Sister, the young woman from Murandy followed her through the corridors of the Tower, going over in her mind everything she had been told and taught about the Test for Accepted. She remembered her Aes Sedai teacher, a strict elderly Cairhienin woman of the Brown Ajah, going methodically on about the Test and why it was so important. “It is a test”, the Aes Sedai had said facing the class of expectant Novices, “that forces you to face your greatest fears about what has happened in your past life, what might be happening in the present-day, and what might happen in your future”. In order to become Accepted, she had emphasized, the Novice must want to be Aes Sedai more than anything else in the whole world, enough to face anything, fight free of anything, to achieve it. I really want this, Mariahna thought as they passed several Aes Sedai in one corridor, the Sisters hardly noticing her. I have always wanted this, ever since they found the spark in me. ● Her teacher’s voice echoed in her mind as they entered a doorway heading down into the basements of the White Tower to the room where she was to be tested. A Novice may refuse to take the Accepted Test twice. If she refuses a third time, however, she is put out of the Tower. What a woman sees during her Testing for Accepted is not required to be shared with anyone, as a woman’s fears are her own. Mariahna remembered her teacher’s description of the Ter’angreal used for the Accepted Test. It was in the shape of three round, silver arches that stood on a silver ring, with their edges touching each other. The arches were just tall enough for someone to walk beneath them. During the Test, an Aes Sedai sat in front of the Ter'angreal at each place where an arch touches the ring, activating the Ter'angreal. “The Ter’angreal”, the Brown Sister had said in her lecturing voice, “forces the candidate for Acceptance to enter three different visions, or alternate realities (it is not known which), where she must face her fears. While within the Ter'angreal, she is not supposed to be able to remember who she is, where she has come from, or that she has the ability to channel. An arch will eventually appear in the vision/reality and the candidate will remember that she must go through it.” “Remember”, she had emphasized, “the way back will only appear once. You will be tempted to stay and be distracted.. you must show character and strength.” ● The words echoed in her consciousness as they descended the final steps to the chamber below. They were far below the White Tower. Looking tentatively around, Mariahna saw that the room was carved out of the bedrock of the island and had a domed shape. The walls were pale, smooth stone. The floor was bare stone. The Ter’angreal sat in the center of the room, and light from tall stand-lamps flickered oddly on it; she could not see what lay inside. She also saw a plain table near the Ter'angreal holding three large silver chalices which were filled with clear water. An Aes Sedai stood beside the table. It was all as it had been described to her, but seeing it was still a different experience. She felt her heart beat faster and tried to compose her thoughts as she had been taught. She was only partly successful. Three Aes Sedai sat around the Ter’angreal where the arches touched the ring. They did not look up as Garihna Semendhei, the Mistress of Novices, and the Novice to be Tested entered. Garihna stopped just inside the room and faced the young woman. “Mariahna Arinhal, are you ready to face your fears?” she asked, beginning the formal ceremony. “Yes.” Mariahna’s voice seemed a little weak to her as she responded but she was steadfast as she faced the Mistress of Novices. “You will now be told two things that no woman hears before reaching this point”, Gahrina Sedai said, meeting the Novice’s eyes. “If the candidate for Acceptance fails to complete the Test once she has begun, she will be put out of the Tower without enough silver to last her a year, and she will never be allowed to return.” “Also, take note. The Test is dangerous. Some women have never returned from the Silver Arches.. we do not know what became of them.. you must be steadfast.” Mariahna nodded silently, trying to quench the butterflies in her stomach. ● “You are now given one more chance to refuse to take the Test.” The Mistress of Novices looked pointedly at the Novice. She had seen Novices lose their nerve at this point before. “I will not refuse”. Mariahna replied determinedly. “I am ready to face my fears.” The Mistress of Novices nodded, her blue eyes glinting in satisfaction, and then they walked a few more steps into the chamber. They were now addressed by the Blue Sister who was beside the table with the chalices. Aes Sedai: Whom do you bring with you, Sister? Mistress of Novices: One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance, Sister. Aes Sedai: Is she ready? Mistress of Novices: She is ready to leave behind what she was, and, passing through her fears, gain Acceptance. Aes Sedai: Does she know her fears? Mistress of Novices: She has never faced them, but now is willing. Aes Sedai: Then let her face what she fears. Mariahna knew she was now required to undress and she removed her Novice dress and her undergarments until she stood stark naked before the other women. She focused on what was to come and did not bother covering herself. Nakedness was the least of her worries here. She needed to be totally focused on the tasks ahead to succeed. Before she entered the first arch, the Mistress of Novices told her: “The first time is for what was. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.” ● Walking through the arch, she did not know what she would face, but she soon found out. There was her sick father, begging her to stay and care for him. There was the man who had tried to rape her at age fourteen in a back alley of her town and she struggled to get out of his grip again. And there were the salivating vicious dogs that had attacked her and almost killed her at the meadow she had walked across when she was a young girl. On and on it went and she faced her fears the best she could, tears running down her cheeks, her mind tiring slowly. And when after a long time she saw an arch appear fourty paces or so off to her right, glowing with a silver radiance, she ran towards it and entered, stepping back through the arch to return to the chamber below the White Tower. Her pulse was racing, the tears only now stopping and she had to catch her breath. It took a moment for her to gather herself and she brushed the remaining tears unashamedly from her face as she faced the Sisters present. The Aes Sedai standing beside the table poured one of the chalices of water over her and told her: “You are washed clean of what sin you may have done and of those done against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us washed clean and pure, in heart and soul.” Mariahna registered the words spoken but her eyes were fastened on the second arch. After a moment’s hestiation she entered it after the Mistress of Novices said: “The second time is for what is. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.” The second arch was worse and Mariahna had to face her worst fears of what was happening in the present, not the least the greatest fear of all that she would fail as an Accepted and later fail to become an Aes Sedai and would have to live with the shame for the rest of her life. Sisters of all colours stared at her in disappointment and great disapproval as she walked naked through the halls of the White Tower in shame, as an example to others. She came upon a few young Warders walking beside their Aes Sedai and they stared lewdly at her nude body which shamed her even further. When she emerged from the Ter’angreal this time, tears were flowing even stronger down her deep-red cheeks and she felt exhausted, physically and especially mentally. The Sister standing beside the table poured the second chalice of water over her and said: “You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul.” Mariahna had to pull herself together to regain the needed courage to enter the third arch. She bit her lip resolutely. First the Mistress of Novices told her: “The third time is for what will be. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.” ● She knew the third arch would be the worst of them all, facing her fears about the future, but even so she was taken aback by the harsh trials she faced. She was an Aes Sedai but she did not have the time to revel in the joy, before an avalanche of Darkness swept her away. On the battlefield facing Myrddraal and other vile Shadowspawn clawing at her with bloodied hands. Seeing her Warder crushed beneath the onslaught and feeling her soul cry out in utter anguish as the bond snapped. Failing in missions for the White Tower. Betraying trust. Betraying promises. And worse. Much worse. She was drenched physically and emotionally as she staggered through the shining archway and into the White Tower chamber. Her face was stricken, her eyes pools of tears, her face in agony, and she felt her knees give way. She was caught by the Mistress of Novices who smiled proudly at the young woman and held her for a moment in her arms before helping her stand steady on the stone floor. Mariahna was full of swirling emotions as she gradually got her bearings and her head cleared. Echoes of what she had been through remained in her mind but she pushed them aside as best she could and focused on the present. At what mattered. She had passed the Accepted Test. ● Relief and happiness replaced the memories as she dried the tears from her eyes. Once her eyes were clear of water and she was able to take a better look around the chamber she saw that the Amyrlin Seat and one Sister from each Ajah, formally garbed in their shawls and arranged to either side of the Amyrlin, now occupied the room as well. Mariahna knelt before Nadhene Carahnas, the Watcher of the Seals, The Flame of Tar Valon, the Amyrlin Seat who poured the third chalice of water over her. The Amyrlin told her: “You are washed clean of Mariahna Arinahl from Arad Doman. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are Mariahna Arinahl, Accepted of the White Tower. You are Sealed to us now.” The Amyrlin smiled as she presented the new Accepted with a Great Serpent Ring. Mariahna felt tears coming again, thrills of achievement running through her entire body. Pulling the new Accepted to her feet, she said: “Welcome, Daughter,” kissing her on the cheek. The other Aes Sedai present smiled as well, the Red Sitter’s eyes glinting as she looked at the new Accepted, and Mariahna was quickly helped into an Accepted’s banded dress. Her smile was radiant. She was Accepted. ● Denya Aes Sedai studied the man bound by threads of Saidar on the table before her almost as she would a fascinating insect. There was always something interesting to learn, a new discovery to make. For instance, why would he scream so much when she poked at his privates with a burning iron? Why did the nerves connect to his brain and then to his voice? Why did the blood flow so readily when she cut off one of his fingers? And why was he so terrified when she poked at his eyeball with a needle? So many questions. And so few answers. A short woman with almost white hair, piercing blue eyes and prominent cheek bones, Denya had always wanted answers to her questions - and she had never questioned her.. affinity for extreme measures. Or necessary investigation as she liked to call it. She was Brown to the soul, enjoying every little discovery however insignificant. The thought made her touch the Brown shawl around her shoulders without thinking as she studied the blood and sweat covering the man on the table. I will always be a Brown, she thought with pride and determination. It’s just my allegiance that has changed. She frowned. My methods will never be understood by my Brown Sisters. ● Moans came from the near unconscious twenty-five year old Andoran, blood coming from his lips. She considered what to try next. If she were to press.. there.. she thought it would increase his pain and she was right. She noted it down in her notebook for future use and documentation, then walked across to the other side of the man and poked some more at him with the burning iron. Interesting, she thought to herself, as his moans turned to near-screams. The armpits were a sensitive area as well just as she had predicted. She noted it down and then picked up a book from another table in her quarters. “The World of Anatomy” by the famed southern scholar Gheras Vanider. She leafed through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. Nodding in satisfaction, she noted down some more, then put the book aside and touched the almost broken man’s cheeks affectionately. She had always liked men and they had always been a subject of fascination for her. "There, there".. she muttered softly. "Your pain will soon be gone, my boy - and you will rest in the welcoming arms of the Great Lord." No one outside her personal quarters in the Brown wing of the White Tower heard anything as she worked, her having Warded the room, and she continued to discover new fascinating things about pain and endurance until late in the evening. Finally all that was left was Darkness and Silence. And Death. ● Lyanna Tirahl, originally from Cairhien, was a Sitter for the White in the Hall of the Tower. She had been a Sitter for more than twenty-five years and the hints of grey in her dark hair spoke of her 114 years on this earth. Most of these she had spent in Tar Valon, as a Novice, Accepted and finally Aes Sedai of the White Ajah. Like most if not all her Sisters she based her life on logic; on logical explanations, reason and sense. She disregarded all foolishness. So it had always been and so it would always be for her. Rumours floating around the White Tower that something was.. amiss.. she took as pure speculation. There were always rumours.. and more often than not they were unsubstantiated and not worth even thinking about. Her friend in the Green Ajah, however, was not so certain. Seated opposite the White Sister, the Green Aes Sedai repeated what she had heard. Taurin Delehsan was a dozen or so years older than Lyanna, a Sitter for the Green, and what she in the White Sister’s opinion lacked in logical reasoning she more than made up in energy and enthusiasm. A blond-haired woman with a sharp nose and a friendly smile, she leaned over the table which stood in the middle of her own quarters and her azure-blue eyes glinted as she spoke. “They say the Amyrlin is hesitant.” She raised an eyebrow. “Some say.. frightened.” Lyanna shook her head. “The Amyrlin is frightened of nothing” said she. “This is just silly rumours.” She sighed. “I don’t know why you even speak of them.” Taurin sniffed loudly, in the way only Aes Sedai could do, but did not retort. She just studied her friend’s face closely, wondering what really went on in that logical mind of hers. “But what if the rumours are.. true?” Taurin said at last in a speculative voice. “The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills..” Lyana replied, using the old Aes Sedai saying. “But I think this is just nonsense. It is not logical at all and I for one don’t believe the rumours.” ● Taurin leaned back in her chair and studied her old Novice-friend closely. They were so different, personality-wise and philosophically, Lyanna and she, that it was a wonder that they had become close friends when they were Novices. They had kept the friendship in the years they were Accepted in the Tower, and though they were no longer as close as in those days past they still were as friendly as Sisters in different Ajahs could be, keeping in touch when both were in the White Tower. Taurin had always liked Lyanna, and remembered with fondness their erotic pillow-fun when they were young, but she had to admit that the White Sister was naïve and there were so many things she did not understand. Her eyes took on a new gleam as she looked at Lyanna’s dark grey dress. It was very conservative, high-necked, with a few subtle decorations and some frills down the side. Staring down at her Great Serpent Ring for a moment, Taurin thought of her many years in the Tower. The golden ring fashioned into the shape of a serpent biting its own tail, was an ancient symbol of eternity and time itself. Time. Time eternal. Turning her gaze to her friend opposite her, she took a sip of tea from the cup before her, then said smoothly, “The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills indeed. By the way, I like your red dress, Lyanna.” It took a moment to register, then Lyanna’s eyes and mouth opened wide.. and a Scream began to form in her Soul! ● Elessar and Calia were seated opposite one another across a small table in the Leisure Room. So it was called, at least among the Sisters in the Tower, a small room adjacent to the White Tower Library that was used for ‘private talks’. It was sparsely furnished with only a few chairs, a couple of tables and some bookshelves filled with books, maps and some figurines of different shapes and sizes. A pair of huge windows at the end of the chamber let in some light, added to several lamps on the walls. Calia had placed Wards on the room, just in case. She wanted privacy for their talk. “We underestimated that Shadow army”. Elessar repeated, meeting his bondholder’s gaze. His voice was soft but Calia heard the undercurrent. He was not pleased and, in truth, neither was she. “White Tower intelligence was lacking.” He added. “As simple as.” Calia did not reply, thinking her own thoughts. The leader of the Tar Valon-party that had gone north, the Captain-General of the Green Ajah, had shared no evaluations upon their return that he had heard, neither had the leader of the Gaidin. He therefore presumed any evaluations had been done in a private setting and were confidential. Even so, there could, in his mind, be no doubt about this issue. “We were lucky to survive that onslaught”, the Gaidin added after a while, his eyes tightening. “The next time we might not be as lucky.” ● They had talked for several hours about their experiences and how they had worked together on the battlefield. It was their first battle as a bonded couple, as a team, and they needed to learn from any mistakes made. They had spoken of the valiant fight of Warders and Sedai and Kandori, and of the brave Fallen, but also of the Shadow army they had faced, a mightier force than expected. And of the powerful Darkfriend channelers up on the hillsides. Whoever they were, they were dangerous foes indeed. Their discussions had evolved into a talk about preparations and what to learn from this battle. And about a lack of intelligence about their enemy. Elessar was concerned, as he had made clear, but he knew none of it was Calia’s fault and so he did not push the issue further. Calia saw his worried frown and knew that there was sense in what he was saying. She knew from her own experience that there was always something to learn from every battle. Whether people took learned wisdom to heart, now that was quite another matter. This is only the beginning, she was thinking again. ● Samos walked the streets of Tar Valon like a lost soul. In the weeks since he had returned from Cairhien he had used all his resources to try and discover who it was that had tried to kill him. And the result? Nothing! Blasted nothing! He had found no clues anywhere and this had annoyed him even more. Roaming the streets, talking with his informants, the days had passed quickly but not pleasently. Cursing at everything and everyone in sight he strode down one of the city’s main streets and almost ran into a parked carriage. Throwing curses at the horses who just returned a dumb look he continued towards his destination, a butcher’s shop in a back-alley not far away. Turning a corner he at last entered that alley and headed for the butcher at the end. Entering the shop, he walked straight to the back and opened a door to a small room. Passing the butcher, a middle-aged man wearing a bloodied apron, he only nodded slightly before closing the door behind him. The room was lit by a small lamp and was an office of sorts. Papers covered a desk and several books too in addition to some parchments. There was blood many places, a result of his several interrogations. None of the men had talked though and Samos had slit their throats in anger after torturing them for a good while. The butcher had been unhappy but had stopped his complaints when Samos had reminded him of his loyalties. Thinking back on it now he thought he should have been less lenient. Next time the man complained he would break his arms. Seating himself in the chair by the desk, he closed his eyes and considered his most secret and dangerous of thoughts: that it was.. her who was trying to have him killed. Perhaps she wanted to do away with him after his disappointing work, as she saw it. Clenching his fists he felt his cheeks redden in anger. But then he reconsidered and calmed down. She could kill him any time if she wanted. And she would have no need of an assassin. No, it was not .. her. But who then? Who could it be that wanted him dead? ● Opening his eyes, he looked at one of the parchments on the desk, it was a map he saw, and started studying it closely. A map of Tar Valon from what he could see. Someone had drawn lines and symbols on the map and he wondered what they could mean.. just as the door FLEW open and a BLAST of Air threw him -and the chair- back toward the wall!! Everything was a blur as he tried to regain his feet. Disentangling himself from the chair, holding onto the wall, he steadied himself and then rose slowly from the floor, his back aching, his head ringing. Gazing toward the door he saw.. something.. it was a kind of haze.. but then came recogniton and his eyes widened. Samos froze, and uttered in bewilderment and shock "You? No!" ● “Oh, shut that gaping mouth of yours, Lyanna”, said Taurin with an exasperated sigh. “You look like a gasping fish on land.” Lyanna slowly closed her mouth but her eyes remained wide and her face haggard as she looked at her old friend. She was unable to utter a word, stunned. It was all soo illogical. A lie.. how..? All so.. impossible. “Oh relax, Lyanna”, the Green Sister added smoothly as she removed her Great Serpent Ring and placed it in her other hand. “If I wanted you dead, you would have been dead already.” Lyanna’s eyes widened even further if possible! Only her long Aes Sedai training and experience of many, many years kept her from screaming aloud. In fear and frustration. And shock. How could her friend of ages be…. a Black Sister.. Impossible! “Dead!?” Lyanna finally stuttered, watching her old friend as if she had never seen her before. “Oh, take it easy, Lyanna”, Taurin said as her hand closed around her Aes Sedai ring. “We all do as we must.” Her eyes turned to her friend’s still shaken face. “As will you.” Her eyes hardened and her smile became tighter. They both held onto Saidar and Taurin felt her greater strength in the One Power. Lyanna felt it also and knew she would not be able to overcome her ‘friend’ if it came down to it. Opening her closed hand again the Green Sister gazed at the Great Serpent Ring for a long moment, as if considering all that it stood for, before placing it anew on her finger. ● “We all do as we must”, she repeated and her eyes hardened as they fastened on the White Sister seated opposite her in the chamber. “It is time to consider your allegiance, Lyanna”. She nodded to herself seeing the fear in the other woman’s eyes. A strong woman in more ways than one, the White Sister did not scare easily, but now she was scared. And panicking. Cold shivers ran down Lyanna’s back and she tightened her hold on Saidar. “It is time for you to Serve in the.. right way”, Taurin said, her eyes glinting darkly. “I am sure you have much service to give.” A Shadow passed before Lyanna’s startled eyes for a moment, but she could not tell whether or not it was just her imagination or her fear manifesting itself. Another Scream began deep down in her Soul, the Light trapped inside her. Oh, Dear Creator. NO!! ● A Darkness in The White Tower. A Darkness of Tar Valon. ● That evening, some hours after their long talk, as Twilight was settling over Tar Valon, Calia and Elessar entered the “White Flame” inn and found a table at the back of the establishment. The innkeeper Taman waved at Elessar and smiled broadly when he saw Calia. He exchanged a few words with her off to the side, before she seated herself opposite her Gaidin. She wore a green dress and a matching silk blouse this evening while he wore his black shirt and pants, his most informal attire if truth be told. The inn was quite full that night with a mix of locals, travellers, Sedai and Warders, seated and mingling, and they both recognized several faces among those present. And there was a gleeman. Which always brought a grin to Elessar’s often serious face. The man, wearing the cloak of his profession, was in his middling years, brown-haired and tall. He had the kind of eyes that always sparkled as if amused by something and during one of his stories those green-grey eyes fastened on Elessar who stared back at him in the same way. There was.. something in the gleeman’s eyes and, in Elessar’s view, false smile that made the Warder study him closely for the rest of the retelling. He could not say what it was but his instincts told him something was.. off. He did not say anything to Calia though, perhaps it was his imagination after all, but the feeling stayed with him throughout the evening. It did not damage his enjoyment of the epic story told later that night, however. “The Light of Tar Valon” was a poem and story Elessar had heard on occasion through the years (and usually in this grand city) but it was not very common. And the inn’s guests listened attentively and with great enjoyment and enthusiasm, sipping to their drinks and some also banging their tables, as the gleeman spun his historic tale of the Aes Sedai and this fabled island city of Tar Valon. ● ►▼◄ ’The Light of Tar Valon’ The Light of Tar Valon, shines Vibrant and Pure The Heart of this Island beats Strongly for Sure For Ages and Time, a Stronghold for Truth And Governed by Sisters of Power in Sooth Construction of the City near a Century Began After the Breaking, and in Time’s true Span When Elisane Tishar the Amyrlin Became Protector of the Seals, Defender of the Flame Ogier Stonemasons, Masters of their Craft Created wonders, they Laboured and they Laughed As Marvels Arose, bridges, buildings, towers Shone With Aes Sedai help, they Sculpted Walls and Throne A Glorious Sight, it was a Wonder to Behold A Hundred Years to Build, striving hard, we are Told And Central to all was the White Tower Bright The Pinnacle of Skill, and the Power of Light Under Attack, in the Trolloc Wars it Came The Shining Walls stood against Shadowspawn and Flame The Forces pressed hard, Defenders tried to Stall But Rashima Kerenmosa, she Prevented its Fall A Thousand years later, after Covenant and Pact As a False Dragon’s army, the City Attacked Seizing two great Bridges when Victory was Set But Hawkwing’s Army, it destroyed the Threat Later the High King turned Foe, and in Pain Besieged it for Years as they Struggled in Vain But finally as Hawkwing passed on Did they Sway The Siege was lifted and the Troops went Away Queen Ishara of Andor played a Part in this All Convincing the Commander of the Siege of its Fall No Damage was sustained in the City in the End And Tar Valon and Andor became Allies and Friend As the Site of the Battle of the Shining Walls Tar Valon felt threatened by Aiel Battle-Calls As they hunted King Laman of Cairhien, by Decree In Vengeance, for destroying the Avendoraldera Tree A Center of Power, the Island Prevailed For Leadership and Courage, the Battle-waves Sailed And Gathered the Nations, through Ages and Might To Stand against Darkness, the Shadow to Fight The Light of Tar Valon, burns Brightly and True In lee of Dragonmount, the Erinin in View As a Beacon of Hope, the City Will Stand With Aes Sedai in Strength, Protecting the Land ►▲◄ ▀▄
  9. .. A Symbol of Shadow .. ►▼◄ Prologue The BLAZING sun overhead in the azure-blue sky made for a scorching day. “What is Shara, Mama?” the little dark-skinned, short black curly-haired girl of five years asked as she brushed some sweat from her face. Her olive-shaped curious brown eyes stared at her mother wonderingly. She had heard the name in the market a little earlier when her mother had been buying groceries and like most children she was curious about most things. “It is what outlanders call our country, Radhia”, her mother said explaining, speaking over her shoulder as she walked. She was used to her daughter’s many daily questions and always tried to be patient with her answers. She was not always successful, she had to admit, but then again she guessed few mothers were. They passed a crowd of people on their way home. The little girl held onto her mother’s hand tightly while at the same time studying all the other people with great curiosity. “But why, Mama?” She added, when they reached a square with a large stone fountain statue of a cloaked woman holding a globe in her hands, and were free of the tight crowd. Her mother knelt down beside her and smiled. “They don’t know any better”, she replied with a wink. “If they did, they would know that our country, the greatest nation in the world, is Co'dansin, land of the glorious people.” ● Radhia grinned mischievously at her mother’s tone of voice - it was the voice she used when she thought someone - usually Radhia - ought to know better - and then followed her out of the square smiling, past several men and women clad in local attire - some silent, some whispering, some grumbling - who carried their wares and groceries steadfastly from market. Some way ahead a new crowd of people had gathered. Suddenly there was a shout in the street and the people in front moved aside as a group of women in strict rows of three came walking confidently down the street. They wore brown travelling clothes of unusual style and fabric and were all tattooed on their faces and, to many but not all, thereby recognizable as members of the Ayyad. It was not common to see the Ayyad in town, the mother knew, far from it, but things were changing and this was not the first time these women had been seen here lately. Murmurs of respect but also some uncertainty followed them as they walked past the ordinary people, their eyes facing forwards, their faces determined, and soon disappeared down the street leaving whispers from some bystanders in their wake. Radhia stared after them long after they were gone, not understanding who or what they were but fascinated with their tattooed faces and, had she been able to explain it, their mysterious aura of power. ● The Amo’hra, in the guise of Khraa’malia, grinned inside as she saw the looks of the common people that they passed down the street. Weaves of Saidar made her feel cool even in this burning heat and it was something she appreciated mightily. A little girl looked at her as she passed, her child’s eyes filled with curiosity and wonder, while the adults were more guarded, respectful but also a little wary. As they should be, she thought haughtily as the group of Ayyad women she led continued down the street. Traditionally the Ayyad stayed separate from the common people, remaining in their towns and rarely venturing outside. But times are changing - and more than they know, the false Leader of the Ayyad thought to herself with dark amusement, her almost black eyes glittering, as they rounded a corner and headed toward a rugged-looking low concrete building in the near distance. The door to the building opened as they approached and another tattooed woman, dark of skin, dark of eyes, welcomed them in, giving the Amo’hra a nod of respect as she entered. Seating herself in the high-backed chair at the end of the long table, the Amo’hra looked at each of the Ayyad women in turn. They were all channelers and they were all weaker in the One Power than her. Holding onto Saidar a woman could sense the strength in another female channeler though it was something seldom spoken of. The Amo’hra had masked some of her strength in the One Power since her task here in Shara had begun, so she was even more powerful than they ever knew. Glorying in that knowledge, and enjoying the wickedness of this necessary charade, it made her think back on her murder of the real Amo’hra months before. ● The woman’s dark eyes had widened in shock, her whole body going rigid as she had felt a thin but lethal weave of Saidar slice through her; her heart had constricted, internal bleeding beginning and respiration had stopped. A moment later her incredulous eyes had rolled up into her head and she had fallen dead to the ground. The false Amo’hra had cremated the body of the real ruler of the Ayyad and had taken her place. Using the Mirror of Mists, or Illusion - weaves of Saidar that gave her the exact same appearance - she had ‘lived’ and led as the Leader of the Ayyad, the society of female channelers in Shara, ever since. And no one suspected a thing, something which amused this woman greatly. ● The other assembled women, of different ages and sizes and temperaments, but all with short dark curly hair, dark eyes and the traditional facial tattoos, looked back at their leader with respect but also caution. She had a reputation for being fair but demanding (more so lately) and any dissention in the ranks would be hit hard. “As you all know, our glorious leader, our Sh'boan was assassinated recently”, she began. Her voice was hard but tinged with sadness. “We are deeply pained”, she lied. “Enemies of our nation are behind this atrocious act.” She added, hiding the real truth. “And this also means that the mission of the Ayyad has.. changed.” She looked at each woman around the table in turn, maintaining eye contact for a time, ensuring they were paying close attention. One of the women, an elderly lady with a scarred cheek and a blind eye, seemed about to say something but seeing the Amo’hra’s piercing stare she clamped her mouth shut. “We need to aid more directly in the protection of our glorious land”, the false Amo’hra proclaimed. “We will avenge this murder!” Her voice became louder, more emphatic. “No matter the cost.” “Our enemies will feel our Wrath!” Her dark eyes now blazed with fury. “And they will pay with blood!” A roar of approval! erupted from the seated women of the Ayyad. And they spoke as one! ● Gazing at her own reflection in the tall decorated mirror in her private chamber in the building a little later, the woman who to everyone appeared to be the Amo’hra, glorious Leader of the Ayyad, smiled with great amusement as she watched her face slowly, gradually change from that of Khraa’malia into.. someone else entirely. Short brown curly hair turned into long golden-brown hair falling around her shoulders in waves. Her eyes turned green the colour of emerald and her face became paler with a fair complexion. Her nose narrowed and her cheekbones became more prominent. She admired the face of the woman in her late twenties that now stared back at her as the weaves of the Mask of Mirrors dissipated. It was a beautiful face with few imperfections and one that certainly would stand out in crowds. And it had. Thinking back, the woman who had once been called Nemani Eradhil Dilmate, of Jalanda wondered at the long journey she had made. That time, that Age - oh how beautiful had been the colourful orchards of Stei’ha outside the suburbs of M'Jinn! - stayed in her mind even as she followed her orders in this new place which would never feel like home to her. Even so, she had important work to do for the Great Lord and the Shadow - and she had always prided herself on completing her given tasks. Their enemies would indeed pay in blood! Her green eyes sparkled like crystal emeralds - and the woman who long ago had named herself Silvahria laughed wickedly inside. ● Chapter Qariahna entered through the Mists on the hillside above the valley clad all in black, her long dark hair Shadowing the path behind her, the black painted stripes on her cheeks burning, her sparkling dark eyes Mirroring the Darkness slowly filling the valley floor. The thick fog, filled with substance but at the same time not, organic in its vastness and all-encompassing, was ominous as it spread its wings over beast and human alike, an unnatural smog that was almost impenetrable and which moved like an animal of prey low across the battlefield. She could see Nymeria on the opposing hillside, standing inside her shield-dome which shone like crystal ice, throwing Fire and Lightning down on the defenders below, intermittently seen in-between gaps in the darkness of the smog. Frowning as she did whenever she saw or thought of this woman, she swept her dark gaze over the valley and then focused on her task. Using Air and Earth, with a touch of Spirit she drove the Darkness forward, like a Storm of Shadow, Saidar blazing inside her as she fashioned the complex weaves. ● Wave upon wave.. Light meeting Darkness.. Fire burning the Skies as small threads are snipped from the Great Pattern.. And then.. Forming ancient weaves, long forgotten in this Time and Age, Qariahna, once called Caitriona Sandher Neidhar, of V’saine, throws a masked - invisible - spinning pillar of Saidar, a force on its own, at the defenders below, reveling in the hum of power it leaves behind, glorying in its unseen descent on the enemy, knowing it will stun. And destroy. ● Nymeria felt the strong weaves of Saidar from the other hillside, pushing into the unnatural smog that was slowly floating across the valley floor, and understood that Qariahna had arrived. She had been suspicious when Amaranth had informed her beforehand that Qariahna would be joining them today, but orders were orders and she did not dare question them. Yet. She frowned as she stared across the valley toward the woman dressed all in black on the other hillside. She had never felt that Qariahna was her equal, more a bothersome woman aiming above her skill level. A schemer who could disrupt Nymeria’s plans. And therefore someone she had to keep an eye on. Her attention returned to the valley below and the Aes Sedai defenders she could view through small gaps in the black smog. They were resilient, much more so than she had expected! Keeping her shield-dome intact, reveling in the Flames of Saidar running through her mind, she hurled more Fire and Lightning in their direction, drawing on the One Power through her ancient Angreal. ● Drawing more power through her ancient purple hairpin Angreal, triumphant in her perceived might, Qariahna almost approached the level where she would burn herself out. With great reluctance she stopped just in time, but the amount of Saidar she held unaided was only matched by that of Nymeria in this Age, of that she was pretty certain. The Angreal amplified her power satisfyingly though not for the first time she regretted not having her hands on the Meluahra. Through the small gaps in the deadly smog, the Aes Sedai in the valley below suddenly became aware of this new powerful channeling woman on the other hillside and felt through the link of Saidar that she was the one pushing the deadly fog across the valley floor. Splitting the circle into two parts, adjusting the shield-dome accordingly, several Battle Ajah Sedai kept throwing Fireballs at the powerful blond channeling woman on the hillside while the second group of Sisters focused on the new threat of the dark-haired channeling woman on the other side, throwing series of Lightning in her direction. Qariahna had built a shield-wall of Saidar around her, filled with Spirit and Air, making it harder than steel and several times as sturdy, and kept on channeling into the blackness in the valley, focusing her energy and thereby feeding that sliding ‘animal’ of death. ● Elessar kept on fighting valiantly until all strength was gone. Sidestepping thrusts and slashes, by axe and sword alike - deadly blades created in the dark forges of Thakan’dar and steel blades almost equally sharp and lethal - the Gaidin from Kandor moved in a fluent dance of the blade. He continued taking strength - both physical and mental - from his bondholder Calia as he disposed of several Trollocs and one Fade under the canopy of red-burning skies. Time almost seemed to stand still for him as he went through the unending motions, in varying combinations, imprinted in him over the years Swing. Move. Deflect. Attack. Move. Block. Swing. Deflect. Counterblow. his body acting almost of its own volition, keeping it up way past normal endurance, standing by Calia’s side and protecting her as she channeled the combined power and might of the circle of Aes Sedai. The black deadly unnatural smog came closer and closer, inching forwards on its lethal path, Shadows hiding within Shadows, but Aes Sedai managed to fight the darkness with light and the defenders cheered as white flame burned through the black mist in patches. Not everywhere and not at the same time, but even so it gave the defenders hope. Fire covered the sky with lightning bolts streaming in all directions as the defenders threw their combined might against the deadly smog and the powerful Shadow channelers up on the hillsides. The second woman on the opposite hillside had taken the Aes Sedai by surprise and now they had divided their attention toward both these powerful wielders of the One Power. Elessar had kept Calia’s back free of oncoming beasts and other threats so she could focus on channeling the might of her circle, and had tried to stay close to her. The shield-dome they had built of Saidar to withstand the Fireball- and Lightning attacks had nearly broken on several occasions but incredibly had held, a testament to the skill of these brave and valiant Aes Sedai. ● A soft southern wind made the banners on top of the city gates in Tar Valon ripple. Silver light from the moon high above shone down on the White Tower this midnight, breaking the darkness. Inside the White Tower, the corridors were silent. Sisters, Accepted and Novices were fast asleep in their beds. A few lights were still turned on in rooms where Sisters slept, for one reason or another, but for the most part all was dark. Not everyone had gone to sleep though. Far down in the hidden cellars beneath the Tower, in a small dusty chamber sparsely lit, the two young Aes Sedai stared at the White Tower Oath Rod as if looking at a viper. Their eyes were fearful and their souls cried out, but they knew they had no other choice. If they declined the ‘offer’ to join the Black Ajah and forswear their Oaths to the Light, they would be killed. There had been no doubt about that. Even so, the choice was IMPOSSIBLE and neither managed to meet the eyes of the four Black Sisters present. “It is time”, said the oldest of the four, a stern woman with some grey in her hair, showing her great age for an Aes Sedai, her voice harsh. She wore a red shawl around her shoulders and was a Red Sitter. “Swear your new Oaths”. ● She handed the Oath Rod to the youngest of the two, an Aes Sedai of only ten years. The rod was one of two in the White Tower, a Ter’angreal created millennia ago in the Age of Legends, smooth, ivory-white cylinder shaped, a foot long and wrist-thick with odd, cursive script carved on one flat end. It felt almost like glass, cool to the touch. Like its twin it was activated by a thin thread of Spirit added to the numeral that was carved into it. It was used when raising Accepted to Aes Sedai, upon which they were required to swear the Three Oaths, making them binding. Unbeknownst to most, the Black Ajah had found a way to break the Three Oaths, to remove them, and to swear new Oaths to the Shadow. This they could do while retaining the ageless Aes Sedai faces, a great benefit in their secret work to undermine and overturn the work of the White Tower. “Come on, then”, the Black Sister urged. There was clear impatience in her tone. Though it was unlikely anyone would come upon them down here, this was dangerous business and they did not want to linger here and risk getting caught. Tears were assembling in the White Sister’s eyes as she stared long at the Oath Rod in her hands, viewing it as if it were a deadly viper. All her Aes Sedai composure was gone. Her hands started shaking. “I CANNOT!” “I CANNOT BETRAY THE LIGHT!” Her screams were desperate and tears were flowing now. Her Soul cried out in pain. “CREATOR, PLEASE HELP ME!!” “Stop whining like a child!” This from another of the Black Sisters. “Behave like an Aes Sedai. And do what you came here to do.” The young Aes Sedai sat with her face in her hands for a while until she dried her eyes and met their gazes again. Breathing hard, still trembling slightly, she tried to regain Aes Sedai calm. Her eyes though were still those of a cornered animal. She knew deep inside that she had no choice, a harsh truth, and in the end she accepted her fate. She hated herself for doing it, her Soul crying out in anguish, but she finally spoke the words that bound her to the Dark One, her new Great Lord of the Dark. ● Her voice was barely a whisper but the words she spoke were binding. With each word she felt her Soul shrivel, felt the Darkness consuming her until she was empty of emotion, almost a Dead shell. “I will not betray the Great Lord and will keep my secrets until the hour of my death.” “I will not betray the identity of any Sister of the Shadow, or else slay me down in death.” “I will not kill or harm any Sister of the Shadow and will obey all commands by the Great Lord.” ● A soft resonance or vibration came from the Oath Rod as her old Oaths were removed from her being and replaced by her new binding Oaths to the Shadow. She felt the change in her body and soul and knew it was done. Looking down at the stone floor beneath her, her eyes lost their passion and life. “Good, it is done”, said the oldest Black Sister. “We welcome, you, Sister.” Her eyes glittered dangerously though not unkindly. “Now you”, she indicated the slightly older Green Sister, an Aes Sedai of twenty years, handing her the Oath Rod. This woman seemed just as reluctant, almost losing her grip on the Oath Rod, but having seen the other Sister’s plight and seeing the stone-hard look on the Black Sisters’ faces she quickly lost the will to fight and she too accepted her new destiny, swearing the new Oaths, part of her dying inside. The older Black Sisters nodded and she too was welcomed into their midst. When it was done, they all left the chamber behind, taking the Oath Rod with them. It was to be placed back in the artefact-chamber several levels up. The Amyrlin must never know that it had been removed, and certainly not that it was being used to swear new Oaths to the Shadow. Faint Echoes of Darkness were all that remained when they were gone. ● Twilight was close, with darkness slowly descending over southern Saldaea, as Argam closed the door to their farmhouse and went inside to find his daughter. Sandana had been kind of quiet lately, thoughtful, which was not normal for her. Picking her up he held her close as she buried her face in his chest. “I love you Papa”, she mumbled into his shirt and he ruffled her hair lovingly. “I love you too, sweetheart”, he replied and the words as always burned themselves into his memory. She held onto him for long moments, as she always did, and then slipped out of his embrace and down to the floor. He smiled as he watched her head across to the cupboard for some of her toys. She had recently turned seven years but was still the lovable young child he had always loved more than life itself. Now, though, he thought something troubled her but it was something she did not want to talk about. How was he to make her tell him what was the matter? She could be stubborn when she wanted to and then no coaxing or persuasion would make her speak. It was not in him to be disciplinary with her. She was a kind child and an honest one. “Sweetheart”, he began softly. “Is something bothering you?” “No, Papa”, she replied equally softly. “Are you sure?” he added carefully “Yes, Papa.” Wondering what next step to take, he waited for a while before speaking again. “Sweetheart”, he started. “Is there then something you are wondering about?” This time Sandana did not reply straight away and her father took notice of it. “Can I help you explain something perhaps?” ● Now Sandana turned toward him, put her toys aside. Tears started flowing in her eyes and Argam hurriedly walked across to her and picked her up. “Sweetheart”, he mumbled, “what is the problem? Don’t cry. Don’t cry.” Holding her tight, he made her feel safe and gradually the tears stopped. When she was calmer he put her down on the floor and sat down beside her. “Please tell me what the problem is and I will help. I promise.” His voice was kind and loving and she held onto his arm for courage. Finally she spoke and her voice was almost a whisper. “Papa, make the symbol-thing stop hurting me.” “Symbol-thing? What do you mean, sweetheart.” She saw the puzzled look in her father’s eyes and whispered some more. “Please talk to me. What is troubling you, Sandana?” “The symbol-thing.” She pointed at a hand-sized circular object made of a strange dark material on the cupboard. “It hurts me.” ● Argam stared at the object in confusion. It was Sandana’s favourite object in the whole world. A family heirloom, passed down in his family over generations. They did not know what it was exactly or its function but his mother had told him to keep it safe, believing it was of value. He had often wondered what the strange symbols meant but had never found any answers. How could the object hurt his daughter? Was this one of her fantasies? “How can it hurt you, sweetheart?” He added carefully. “It is your favourite thing after all.” “Not anymore, Papa.” Her voice was soft as a whisper but he heard her. “Not anymore.” Giving his daughter a big hug, telling her again how much he loved her, he stepped across the room and picked up the object from the cupboard. Holding it in his hands, he studied the mysterious symbols again and they made no more sense to him now than before. How could this object in any way be dangerous? Taking the object with him he sat down in his chair and ran his fingers across its dark brown surface. The surface was rugged in places, smooth in places and there was no way to open it in case there was anything inside. He shook it but heard no sound. Frowning as he stared down at the object, his gaze shifted back to his daughter. “How did it hurt you, sweetheart?” He asked. He did not know if she would answer but she did. “I was just holding it, Papa”, Sandana said in a somber voice. “And then suddenly something happened.. and it burned me.” ● Looking more closely at the object, turning it around he studied the strange symbols that ran all around its circumference. He tried pressing various parts but nothing happened. Perhaps it is her imagination after all, he thought to himself, as he continued pressing but just then.. suddenly, he felt a burning sensation in his hand and then the circular object started glowing! A silvery white glow surrounded it and there was a humming sound in the air. Sandana turned to look at the object with wide children’s eyes, half afraid, half curious.. While her gob smacked father dropped the object and stared at it in disbelief! WHAT IS HAPPENING!? ● The object rolled a little on the floor and then stopped. As they both stared it at, fascinated but also a little fearfully, the silver glow surrounding it slowly dissipated until it was gone altogether. Argam waited for a full minute to be safe that nothing more would happen, but then, Carefully picking the object up, he studied it anew in great detail before placing it on the table before him. “What is it, Papa?” Sandana finally asked, her voice soft and a little uncertain, eying the object carefully. “I don’t know, sweetheart” he replied honestly. “I really don’t know.” But there is certainly more to it than we have ever guessed, he added to himself. That was for certain. What is this, that my family has kept hidden for generations? Darkness filled the region, everything cloaked by Night, by the time Argam stopped staring at the mysterious object he had inherited and finally went to bed, enjoying a dreamless sleep. ● In the battle near the Plain of Lances, south of the barren Blight, Light and Darkness struggled for victory. At one point, in the midst of the relentless assault, a sudden rupture echoed through the air. For an instant everything quivered as if suspended in the grip of an unseen force. Elessar felt a moment of uncertainty and surprise coming through the bond from Calia, echoing his own. What is this!? Light! ● At a later point, Elessar was thrown back as a powerful and deadly weave SLAMMED into the protective shield. This time he was unable to get to his feet again, exhausted and aching. Fumbling for his sword, his bloodied fancloak crushed beneath him, he lay in a daze as explosions continued around him, feeling Calia close by but any emotion from the bond was drowned in the chaos of war. The throb of pain in his side made him wince but he tried to ignore it as he attempted to drag himself to safety. Finally he managed to do so - or did someone drag him? He could not quite say.. - and opened his eyes to the world. Strands of dark hair covered his bloodied cheeks and his right hand was broken or so he thought. Dust was everywhere, dust and the stench of death. He thought he heard someone speak his name, it seemed from afar, but he could not be certain. His thoughts were foggy and nothing seemed real. It seemed the explosions had stopped and a deadly silence now lay over the battlefield but it could be that it was only his imagination. When he finally saw a familiar face lean over him and hold him close, he recognized Calia’s blue eyes and concerned face and a small smile came upon his lips - she was alive and well! Soon though he felt dizziness grabbing him, he started drifting and finally lost consciousness, descending into a well of blackness. ● Amaranth watched - and waited. In the distance Lightning danced across the sky, Fireballs slashing through the smog and mist that covered much of the valley. He saw Nymeria in her crystal ice shield-dome on one hillside, and Qariahna in a darker shield-dome on the other. Both were sending deadly weaves down upon the Aes Sedai, Warders and Kandori fighters on the valley floor. The defenders had survived much longer than Amaranth had anticipated, and though he would never admit it to anyone, they had underestimated the power of Aes Sedai circles. These.. children.. were craftier than had been expected. It was a lesson learned. Never underestimate your opponents. He had known as much back in what he always had thought of as his real world.. in that different Age of which this one was only a poor reflection.. but here, in this time, in this place, it was so easy to underestimate. How can I not do so, in this place where nothing and no one is the same as it once were? Staring at the enveloping blackness swallowing the air and light, a Wall of Shadow pressing against their enemy, his violet eyes tightened. These.. children.. know nothing of what we could do, what we could create, what we could accomplish! What we did accomplish! They know nothing. Holding onto the powerful black Sa’angreal staff, feeling the torrent that was Saidin inside him - the Storm that was his essence, his Soul - he rejoiced in the feeling of power and near invincibility but at the same time held a tight grip on the One Power, the avalanche that always threatened to overpower him. It was a question of control and release; embracing the Storm but at the same time fighting it. I am the Storm. And now he had to keep the storm at bay. For he had his orders. And this battle was not important enough to disclose the full power of the Shadow. He had been ordered not to play a further part in this battle with the Aes Sedai and the Kandori. Just to be a bystander. And though he yearned to crush the remaining forces of Light in this valley, he held back and let Qariahna and Nymeria throw their combined power at the defenders. ● The black poisonous smog crept further along the valley floor, like a deadly predator on the prowl, fed by Qariahna’s powerful weaves of Saidar, while Nymeria attacked the Aes Sedai ferociously from the other side, throwing avalanches of Fire and Lightning at them. The Valley was reflected in Dancing Shadows. ● Nymeria was tiring though and realized she would not be able to keep it up much longer. Cursing inside at the combined linked power of these so-called Aes Sedai, she tried to alter some of her battle-weaves but somehow the shield-wall these.. these.. children.. had managed to create stopped her Fire and Lightning. It was humiliating. She was tempted to draw even more of the One Power through the Angreal, surrendering to that glorious ocean within that was Saidar, but stopped herself. I will burn myself out! I cannot let that happen! Her blue eyes shot daggers at the defenders in the valley below. Light suddenly flared above her! And Lightning SLAMMED into her shield-dome, making it crackle with power, but it held as on so many occasions before. ● Taking a moment to solidify the shield-dome, she adjusted her weaves. Increasing Spirit and adding Earth and Air, she tied it off and breathed easier. Blasted Aes Sedai! Gathering herself, she drew on Saidar as much as she could, and then using a combination of ancient weaves forgotten in this Age she formed a sapphire-glowing sphere that kept growing in size until it almost was the size of her dome. The sphere pulsated with power and Nymeria tied off the weaves. Smiling darkly to herself, with her last strength she directed the glowing sphere toward the Aes Sedai below with all her might! She was pleased to see it EXPLODE into the defences below - YES! - , killing several dozen brave Kandori archers and seriously wounding a few Warders, as well as partially shattering the shield-dome though it still somehow stood. The effort had taken most of her remaining strength, though, and she fell to her knees with a loud sigh, holding onto the shield with the last of her power and strength. ● Several Dreadlords in black cloaks came running to her aid now and this time she accepted their help. They added their strength to hers, weaves of Saidar burning, and kept the shield-dome as strong as ever. One of the women, of prominent age with some silver in her hair despite her smooth Aes Sedai-features who was wearing a Brown shawl tucked in beneath her cloak, looked worriedly at her, knowing that Nymeria had pressed herself too far. She needed time to gather her strength. “Great Mistress”, she spoke with reverence. “You need to withdraw and regain your strength.” Nymeria started to object but the older woman held up her hand. “You will have greater battles to fight for the Great Lord.” And Nymeria knew it to be true, however bitter it felt. Climbing slowly to her feet, leaning on the Brown Sister’s shoulder, she stared down into the valley and saw that the black smog had dispersed in places and so parts of the valley floor were visible now. Even as she watched she saw weaves of Light burn through Dark patches, White flames conquering the Black fog. In other places the smog was too powerful to be overcome and drove the defenders backwards on the ground. It came to her then. This was a stalemate, a battle neither side would win. That was the truth. A bitter truth but truth nonetheless. More important battles awaited as the Last Battle loomed in the distance. ● Qariahna kept throwing Lightning at the Aes Sedai shield, at the same time pouring power into the black smog. Her own shield shook as powerful weaves SLAMMED into it from below, the circle of Aes Sedai now fighting on two fronts, but it held. Even so, she was surprised at the combined power of these Aes Sedai women though deep inside she was highly uncertain if they were even worthy of the name. She remembered her life in that other place, that other Age, that had been her home.. It felt a lifetime ago. Those Aes Sedai women had been powerful! They had been worthy of grudging respect however much she had despised them at the end. These were but a poor reflection. Even so, they were craftier than she had expected, or perhaps luckier, and it was clear to her that this was not a battle easily won. She felt as much as saw the black smog weakening in places, white flames conquering the darkness, and pushed as much of her energy as possible into the living darkness to keep it alive. She saw Kandori soldiers falling to their deaths below the deadly fog which now snaked forwards only five or so feet above ground, saw Warders struggle to stay free of it while Aes Sedai threw battle-weaves at it. Lightning broke through the blackness and fire streamed above it in a chaos of death and destruction. Another Fireball SLAMMED into her shield and almost broke through, throwing Qariahna backwards several feet. Blast! Picking herself up, her dark eyes blazing with anger, she maintained the shield and added some new weaves to strengthen it. Combining weaves in a complex fashion, she threw a huge Fireball at one group of the Aes Sedai and was triumphant to see it SLAM into their shield, throwing several Sisters to the ground. Take that, blasted Aes Sedai! ● The battle of power between the forces of Light and Shadow in this valley in north-eastern Saldaea continued for a long time that day before silence finally cloaked the battlefield and the surrounding region. It was a deadly silence, a silence born of futility and of realization. For it became clear for all that neither side would be able to conquer this day. ● When the Shadowspawn started retreating from the battlefield, Trollocs following Myrddraal in what can be best described as a semi-orderly fashion, the remaining Kandori fighters cheered as if victory had been achieved. The Aes Sedai and Warders, however, knew better. Elessar, still feeling as if a mountain had fallen on top of him but at least awake again and feeling better after some Healing and tender care and attention by his bondholder Calia, was just glad the battle was over. It had been the hardest battle of his life. And most importantly, they had survived. This battle had ended a stalemate, a draw with neither side winning. He knew it was so and so did Calia. So did also the other Aes Sedai who also knew that linking their power in a circle was what had saved them this day. Individually, with no more Sisters than were present, they would have stood no chance against these very powerful Darkfriend channelers. More battles would be fought before the Last Battle, the one to end them all, and everyone needed to be ready for that. But for now they had survived and had fought the Shadow as hard and valiantly as possible. There had been losses though, grave losses, as was sadly always the case in war, especially of brave Kandori soldiers and archers of whom only a handful were left alive. Those few, however would return proudly to their homeland, knowing they had sacrificed everything for the Light. ● Soon the enemy channelers up on the hillsides were gone from sight too, withdrawing into the Mists like Shadow phantoms. The Watcher with the staff also disappeared in the distance, becoming one with the surrounding Dust. And finally the last of the Shadowspawn were no longer in sight. All that was left were small areas of the valley floor still darkened by parts of deadly smog slowly dissipating, and the smell and stink of death that covered the entire valley. Some Aes Sedai had been removing corpses for a while, burying them beneath the soil and dirt and earth, and so the valley was no longer littered with flesh and blood though the stink still remained. Elessar was pretty certain that this patch of land would not give way to any growth any time soon, however. This place had seen too much death. And blood. ● Before leaving the battleground that day, all the survivors gathered to pay tribute to the Fallen. The Captain-General of the Battle Ajah spoke warmly of honour and duty to the assembled Kandori soldiers, Aes Sedai and Warders watching silently, heads bowed. The names of the Fallen would be remembered, she promised - those valiant and brave men and women who had given their lives in the Fight against the Shadow. “We honour you”, she said in a proud, strong voice as the tribute was coming to an end. “May you Shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand, and may the Last Embrace of the Mother Welcome you Home.” ● “So why did we withdraw?” Qariahna enquired again a little angrily. She looked at Amaranth across the marble table, an impatient look in her dark eyes. She had removed the black stripes down her chin (“war paint” as Amaranth teasingly called it) and had changed into clean clothes. Her dress was emerald-green and showed a fair amount of cleavage and she wore one of her favourite necklaces. “This is not the major battle”, Amaranth replied coldly, running a hand through his neck-long blond hair. “We must preserve our strength for what is to come.” He sipped from his wine while meeting Qariahna’s angry stare. He glanced at her cleavage and grinned inside. She had always enjoyed exposing herself. And he had always enjoyed looking at her. She finally looked away but he could see that her anger was still present, her cheeks reddening. Nymeria frowned though she had agreed with the decision. She had been ready to withdraw on her own, out of necessity, when Amaranth’s order had arrived. Even so, she was displeased. “So this was all a.. test of sorts, is that right?” Her voice was cold too and disapproving and her blue eyes narrowed. She had not touched the wine glass before her, wanting to be clear-headed this day. She was still feeling somewhat drained from the battle-exertions and hating that she still felt tired. She smoothed her blue silk dress beneath the table, savouring the feeling of silk beneath her fingers. Then she touched the sapphire ring on her right ring finger affectionately. It was special to her, in more ways than one - and brought back ancient memories. Of Emar Dal. “If you wish to think of it that way”, Amaranth replied smoothly, his violet eyes sparkling, “then do so.” ● He met her gaze as he placed his wine glass carefully back on the table. “We do as the Great Lord orders. Here and elsewhere.” His voice was cold again. “He is satisfied with the deaths we provided this day. And the lessons we learned.” Lessons, yes! Qariahna stared silently at Amaranth for a long moment, trying to hide her dislike for this man. He appeared calm but she was certain he would be holding onto Saidin. She wondered if he ever let go of it. Then her gaze shifted slowly to Nymeria. She weighed them both in her mind, wondering which one she would have to kill one day to become the First Servant of the Great Lord. It will be him. Always him. Nymeria saw Qariahna’s glare from across the table and glared back, flushing angrily. Keep your fingers off my schemes, slut! She held onto Saidar and sensed the other woman was doing the same. There was no trust there - and never would be. What kept them from each other’s throats was Amaranth who smiled with mild amusement as he watched these two very dangerous women glowering at each other. Taking another long sip from his red wine - a poor reflection of the magnificent wines from the orchards of Co’isanne that he remembered fondly from his distant youth - he wondered which of the two was the most cunning. The most powerful. The most lethal. Perhaps one day he would find out. They both had their uses. For now. And the Great Lord was pleased with their work. For now. ● “There are new orders for us all.” Amaranth added after a while. Both women eyed him closely now, noticing the slight change in his voice. Symbols in gold ran down the sleeves of his black cloak and the symbols changed even as they watched. He held his hands out before him, palms up as he rose from the high-backed chair. “The Day of Return is soon upon us!” There was passion in his voice now, passion and hard determination. Tiny threads of Saidin danced on his palms like minuscule streams of blue Lightning and his violet eyes shone as he added in a loud, exultant voice, spreading his arms wide !C A R A I A N S I D A M A! The chamber reverberated with power and energy, echoes of thunder in the distance. Qariahna and Nymeria rose from their high-backed chairs and, ignoring their mutual animosity for a moment, they moved to stand beside Amaranth. Their eyes were blazing, their expressions enraptured in expectant Triumph. Amaranth smiled broadly - and then, with a quick glance at each of the other two Chosen - for CHOSEN they were to Rule the World Forever - he embraced the True Power, the source of energy that came directly from the Great Lord of the Dark and which could only be wielded with the Great Lord’s permission. Glorying in the euphoric power he now had at his disposal, he kept a tight control on it, knowing that carelessness could be very dangerous. !K I S E R A I! Speaking words in a language that had not been spoken for millennia, the First Servant of the Great Lord, the First among the Chosen, Amaranth channeled the True Power - dark weaves forming in intricate patterns as the runes on the marble table started changing - and a dark Mist slowly materialized before them as their eyes widened in elation. It was a Shadow unlike any other, swirling like a wind in an ocean of Darkness, black like the deepest Night, moving as if alive, meandering in unending twists and arcs until the Ancient Symbol was formed: ●●● ●●●● ●●●●●● ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀ ▀ The FLAME of AXION Under this Symbol shall He Conquer In Fire and Flame Strength in Shadows! Burning His way to Victory Feasting on Blood Glory in Shadows! Walking the path Foreordained Screaming in Souls Triumph in Shadows! Bow before the Great Lord! Rejoice in His Power Beg for your Salvation! From The Prophecies of the Shadow 302 NE, the 3rd Age Author unknown ▀▄
  10. .. The Deceiver of Hope .. ►▼◄ Prologue SCREAMS of Terror run through the streets of the burning city of Comelle Adanzan like a Whirlwind borne of Shadow. “All hope is lost!” “Death has come upon us!” “Death!” The screams echo down one street and up another, mingling with explosions and fires in buildings just destroyed. A frail brown-haired young man, blood pouring down his face and with his one arm hanging limp at his side, his eyes horror-stricken from having seen too much death and destruction, cries out to nobody. “He has betrayed us! The General has betrayed us!” He stumbles and falls face first onto the dusty and bloodied cobblestones, nearly breaking his nose and bruising his cheeks. Slightly dazed and with some effort he climbs to his feet but is almost trampled by the mass of frantic people running in panic from the gates. He stares back for a long moment and in the distance sees the guards fighting for their lives before the main gates to the city. “Oh Light, we have no chance now!” His breath catches in his throat as he sees the gates finally come crashing down, armoured beasts streaming into the city followed by legions of men. He cannot see the General but he knows he is there. The Traitor. ● “Run!!” He screams desperately to a couple of tear-stricken children who stand with torn clothes and bruised faces before a half-destroyed blacksmith shop off to the side. There is panic in their eyes, shock in their faces, and they are too stunned to move. “Run, children. Run!” His voice is near hysterical as he screams at them to escape. Finally they are brought out of their state of shock. They take one tentative step, then another.. and then they disappear around a corner hand in hand. The young man brushes tears from his eyes, hoping against hope that they will make it. ● Blood fills the street and the stench of death fills the air as the minions of the Shadow crush all opposition on their inevitable surge toward the centre of the city. A platoon of city guards fight the beasts valiantly but, disorganized and leaderless, they are no match for the intruders. Further back an armoured black-cloaked figure walks slowly, confidently, imperiously along the street and then suddenly stops, gazing westward. The General - and former Commander of the city garrison - Amir Tavaneh Vendahlin - feels weaves of Saidin being channelled but some way off. He nods to himself, knowing what it means. He takes in the scene before him. Dead bodies lie everywhere, citizens and people now bereft of life. Blood flowing in streams, mingling with the dirt and the dust. Buildings barely standing on both sides of the street. Destruction everywhere. Nodding contentedly he starts off again, but only fifty or so steps later is stopped by a small noise. He turns sidewise and suddenly spots a little scruffy girl with long brown hair and bloodied legs who is holding hard onto her doll. She is crying and her big brown eyes stare fearfully at him as he bends down to look her in the eye. She shivers with fear, feeling wetness on her leg, as his hand touches her cheek. An unreadable look passes across his face, then he says, with passion in his voice, passion mingled with harshness, “Little one, this is a day of Death. You should be long gone.” The little girl looks back at his hard face, her eyes wider than before, and starts sobbing even louder. Finally she speaks, but in such a soft tone of voice that the General almost does not hear. He leans down and hears the words. “My bb-rother is dead. They tt-took him. There is no more hh-hope” she says , her eyes watering. “No hope at all.” For you that is true, the General thinks. For those Lightfools too. Yes, this is the beginning of the end. Great Lord, it is begun. The man who the angered citizens had named Amaranth, the Deceiver of Hope, stares intensely into the smoke-filled distance, eyes pensive and intense, as the child crumples to the ground before him. It is begun. ● The dark-cloaked man continues walking down the burning street, ignoring the carnage and the clouds of smoke rising from countless buildings. People flee when they see him, screams of horror and death in their wake. He ignores it all as he heads toward a half-standing building on the right side of what had been a central city street. Pushing a half-destroyed door inwards he enters the remnants of the building and stops. In the adjoining room he hears voices and heads in that direction. Inside the large room, behind an overturned desk and a damaged shelf that had fallen from the wall, he finds two figures; a shabby-looking man in a dusty grey travelling cloak with greasy brown hair, dark eyes and several scars on his cheeks, looking down at an older woman on the floor who is simply dressed with short blond hair -now streaked red with blood- and a plump face. “She has broken her Oath, Great Master.” The man says angrily as he kneels before the General, facing downwards. “She admits as much. Two of our people were arrested by the city watch three days ago. One of them was executed yesterday.” The General looks down at the woman for a long time, his face twisted in fury. Finally Amaranth speaks, his voice emotionless. “She will be silenced.” ● The young Friend of the Dark nods, his eyes still fixed on the floor. “Oathbreakers are traitors to the Shadow”, Amaranth adds coldly. “The Great Lord will feast on their souls.” Commanding the young man to stand, the other does so but averts his eyes. “Look at me.” The General orders. The young man’s eyes turn slowly to stare into the older man’s. He swallows hard. What he sees before him is a very tall man in his forties with short black hair, a beak of a nose and dark brown eyes that are intense and bespeak of power and intelligence. Those eyes meet his now in a no-nonsense manner. He swallows again. Had the General not used the Mask of Mirrors, a spell of Illusion, upon his servant, what the other would have seen was a very handsome man in his early thirties, medium tall with piercing violet eyes, high cheekbones and neck-long blond-brown hair. As it is, the Friend of the Dark stares into those dark eyes of his Master only for a few seconds before shifting his gaze slightly. “Are you loyal, young man?” Amaranth’s voice is hard. “Yes, Great Master!” He replies in a strong voice. “You never have to doubt my loyalty”. The General nods once. Then he looks down at the crouching woman. “You broke your Oath to the Great Lord”, he says in a voice as cold as death. “You informed on your brothers to the authorities. “ “I have returned to the Light.” She whimpers, her hands twitching. “I can no longer live with betrayal of the Light. Dear Creator, help me!” “Traitors such as you deserve death.” Amaranth’s voice is now deadly. “The Great Lord will have you.” Without ceremony he bends down and touches her forehead, Saidin at his fingertips, and sends a tiny stream of Fire right into her brain. A small stream of blood runs from the deadly head wound; the old Friend of the Dark woman is dead before her head hits the floor. Turning back to face the young man, he indicates the dead body. “This is what happens to traitors to the Shadow. Let our brethren know the price of betrayal.” It is a command and the young man bends the knee again before the General, nodding his understanding. “Yes, Great Master.” ● Once he is alone in the room, Amaranth remains standing in silence for a while. Traitors. Betrayers. He clenches his fists in anger and pushes the overturned desk further out of his way with the One Power. We cannot have such cowards in our midst. Then his eyes move to the fireplace at the other end of the room. Logs are stacked inside the fireplace for use and he channels to get the fire blazing. Standing before the orange-red flames, listening to the fire now crackling, he notices the wood soon broken like twigs in a storm. That Storm mirrors the storm without, the storm within, and the Storm of war and destruction in this city and all other cities where the fight against the Light has recently begun. His thoughts turn inwards as he remembers the accusations levelled at him. “Deceiver of Hope!” “Traitor!” They named me well, those Lightfools, and I embraced the name they gave me. For I did deceive the citizens of this once so proud city, I did carry the Shadow into the heart of it. Oh yes. And I would do the same again. For Immortality and Glory. Fire Did they think I didn’t know what I was doing? Oh I knew - and I conquered! Storm Those others, those self-glorified arrogant men and women in their precious Hall of Servants, they always thought they knew best; they never listened to voices of dissent telling the truth of the decay of our society, voices of reason, voices of respect, voices of power, but now they will feel our wrath. My wrath! Chaos Hope has blossomed in the world as the Wheel has Turned, but I will Deceive all Hope, my naming will be true. That I promise! The intense and hateful look in Amaranth’s now violet eyes would have given even the staunchest warrior pause. There was intelligence there, brilliance of strategy, and an inner fire of purpose and determination. And the Fire in the World blazed on in what historians would later call the War of Power; the Past and Present blending in a Moment of Epiphany. ● Chapter A Wall of Air and Fire SLAMMED into Nymeria’s shield-dome and almost destroyed it, flinging her twenty feet backwards on the rise. All breath knocked out of her, strands of her smudged golden hair hiding the bruises on her cheek, she took several moments before she was able to get her bearings. Lying on her side, her back aching from hitting the rocks behind, dirt stinging her skin, she ignored the pain. Anger was building inside her, an avalanche of fury rising at this.. this humiliation. Climbing slowly to her feet, steadying herself, her dark eyes swivelled in the direction of the Aes Sedai on the battlefield below and shot daggers at the women standing in line. Cursed Aes Sedai! They linked in a circle! That is the only way they could manage this. None of them are as strong in the One Power as I. Not even near. The thoughts rushed through her head as she gathered herself, brushing the strands of hair away from her face but ignoring her now dirtied dress. She drew on Saidar, using her powerful Angreal for added strength, and hardened the shield-dome with added touches of Air and Fire. One of the Dreadlords came hurriedly toward her on the rise, black cloak swerving around her in the soft breeze, but Nymeria waved her away impatiently. She would deal with this on her own! Drawing as much of the One Power as she could without burning herself out, Flames of Saidar running through her mind in Rivers of power, Nymeria - once called Sirahna Mar Devirahn, of Emar Dal - raised her arms to the Heavens and Death followed in its wake. ● Samos fought for his life. The rough hand pressing down hard on his face made it hard for him to breathe. And to think. His survival instinct took over and he reached desperately for the knife he kept at his bed side table. He could not reach it! With his other arm he tried to push at the face of the shadow above him but the figure was large and strong. The blue eyes of his would-be killed sparkled again in the near-darkness. Samos tried again to push him away, his fingers clawing at the other man’s face, but the man was too strong. Panic entered Samos’s eyes, his vision was becoming blurred, and he felt his lungs about to burst from lack of air. He kicked out with his feet and managed to get the figure slightly off balance. The hand over his face slipped for a moment and Samos sucked in welcome air and then took the opportunity afforded him to grab the bed-side knife and stab the attacking man in the side with it. The large man grunted in pain and Samos thrust the knife inwards, kicking out at the man again, cursing inside. Taking large breaths, his vision soon returned to normal. He pushed again at the man above him and managed to dislodge himself and rolled out of the bed, slumping onto the floor. Crawling away from the bed before the attacker was able to grab him again, Samos found the second knife that he hid in his clothes and threw it at the man by the bed. Either his aim was excellent or luck was with him, for the knife embedded itself in the large man’s right blue eye which did not sparkle anymore. He slumped onto the bed, dead. ● Samos caught his breath and his pulse gradually slowed. His eyes were still wide though as he looked through the near-darkness for any additional enemies though he somehow knew there would be none. Climbing to his feet he walked slowly toward the bed, lit a lamp and looked down at the body, turning it over. The assassin looked ordinary in every way with the kind of face and features that would fit in any crowd. Perhaps that was what made him the perfect assassin. Samos spat at him, angry at this near-assassination. Who had sent this man to kill him? Who would dare!? Samos would find out if it were the last thing he ever did! ● Qariahna touched the Khi’dara reverently. It was a three-dimensional crystal object triangular in shape with swirling colours of blue and violet. It was warm to the touch and it gave her thrills just touching it. Staring into its colourful depths she felt she was floating.. and like many times before she felt the object was.. reaching for her. She could not explain it any other way. It was.. calling to her. And the One Power responded. Embracing Saidar always made the.. pull stronger. It was an ancient Ter’angreal brought from another time and place - and she had been ordered not to use it. But she could not resist the temptation to learn what its function was. All she knew was that it was somehow connected to dreams and Tel’aran’rhiod. Anything having to do with the World of Dreams had always fascinated her and so she found it worth it to take this risk though she knew she was walking a very dangerous path. Placing the object carefully on the huge marble table before her, she gazed at it excitedly, almost lovingly, only daring to touch it as she held onto the One Power. She had used it once, but she still could not remember how she had done it. She had tried a few weaves of Saidar and suddenly the object had responded, in a brilliant flash of light with a humming sound, bridging the real world and Tel’aran’rhiod in less than a second. But it had not been the World of Dreams as she knew it, rather an alternate, different version of it. Which she did not think should be possible. Almost as soon as she had been transported into this new reality, she had been brought back, falling dazed to the floor. And not remembering what exactly she had done to.. activate the object. Amaranth had somehow learned of this episode though and had berated her. Thankfully the Great Lord had not sensed it, though that seemed surprising to Qariahna since he was touching the world more and more with every month. She was tempted to give it another try but changed her mind, the swirling colours within the Khi’dara making her think twice. Picking up the crystal object delicately she placed it in a silk covering and then carried it to the closet where she kept it well hidden. Using weaves of Saidar akin to Illusion she then hid the entire closet from sight and only when she was done did she breathe normally again. Later that afternoon, under an azure-blue sky, she left her house in the outskirts of Maradon - the home she kept secret from everyone and even the Queen - and rode back to the Cordamora Palace to continue her duties as Arihna Gharam, Aes Sedai advisor to the Queen of Saldaea. On the way she murdered the Queen’s second cousin, a High Lady of seeming no importance, but she did as she had been ordered, leaving the body headless and mutilated. ● When THUNDER roared both above and below ground, the Blast of Power starting from the end of the valley and whirling forwards like a Storm threw Elessar backwards on the battlefield and he crashed to the ground amidst some Kandori soldiers. The Fade he had been fighting was gone from sight. As was Calia. The roaring sound seemed to go on forever - but finally it stopped. In the deadening silence that followed the Gaidin tried to find his bearings. He was lying on his back, stones, rocks and other debris digging into his muscles. The heavens were still orange-red and even yellow in places but silent now. Elessar shook his head and tried to climb to his feet. Through the bond he felt Calia some way off. How had they been separated? She seemed relatively fine was his impression - and alive. That was what counted the most! He finally staggered to his feet and looked for the enemy. A little off to the side Trollocs were gaining their feet too, as were several Fades. He saw three Aes Sedai standing close to one another and a few Warders too. He could not see Calia but dust and smog now filled much of the valley floor, in a shroud of surrounding chaos, and it was difficult to see anything beyond twenty feet or so. For long moments it was as if waking in a dream of dust and desolation. ● Balls of light then lit up the battlefield, streaming through the smog and dust, and Elessar was able to get a better idea of the situation. He saw the Trollocs gathering under the command of the Myrddraal some way off to this right while up on the rise the golden-haired woman he had seen earlier, still enlarged by Illusion, stared balefully down at the battlefield. Soon she threw fire down on the troops, deadly streams of orange and red, and the Warder sensed intuitively that she was mighty powerful with the One Power. Several Aes Sedai were gathering off to his left, and some of them seemed to be staring at the golden-haired channeler in the distance, and he felt Calia in that direction too though he could still not see her. Suddenly he felt danger approaching from behind, his Warder instincts alerting him, and turned just in time to avoid the Myrddraal’s deadly blade! Bringing up his sword, he parried the Fade’s swings and then smoothly entered his sword forms, forms that were as much a part of him as his blade. The Fade hissed through its jagged teeth as Elessar attacked it again and again. And then of a sudden a boar-tusked Trolloc appeared out of nowhere on his left, saliva running from its snarling mouth, and attacked with its huge war-axe! It took all of Elessar’s skill and experience to defend proficiently against both these enemies at the same time. He entered a Dance of Death. Attack. Block. Move. Swing. Deflect. Attack. Deflect. Counterblow. Again and again. ● He tried to ignore the growing tiredness, and pain from his earlier wounds, as he parried slashes and thrusts and kept out of the Shadowspawn’s reach but was tiring gradually and understood he would struggle to keep this up for long. He hoped Calia was nearby and would feel his predicament through the bond. Sidestepping out of the way of an incoming strike the Gaidin swept his blade in low and blocked an attack, then counter-attacked. Coming inside the Trolloc’s guard he slashed hard and felt his blade bite into the beast’s side, then he quickly moved out of its retaliation range, pleased to see the huge beast staggering. Facing the Myrddraal now Elessar tried a few tentative moves, back and forth, mostly trying to conserve his energy. But then of a sudden he quickly reversed his grip on his sword, his blade snapping back in a way that was previously impossible. He ducked low and spun underneath the Fade’s black blade, thrusting into its side, and got back on his feet in one fluid motion. It was an improvised move which only highly skilled swordsmen would be able to execute, but Elessar knew he needed his dynamic proficient skill to survive this battle now that he was weakened. Back and forth their dance flowed, thrusting and parrying, attacking and spinning out of range and moving swiftly from stance to stance, two opponents locked in combat. In the Flame and the Void he felt detached from the world around him but even so he felt a tug through the bond from Calia and started to move in her direction. The hissing Fade followed, its black cloak not stirring in the wind, while the Trolloc crashed to the ground after another lethal strike from Elessar. His strength was abating and so he decided to head towards Calia so they could fight together side by side. Catching the Myrddraal off balance, the Gaidin struck with a clever move which seemed to wound the Shadowspawn and then he raced off towards where he felt his bondholder was. ● He arrived at her side just as a Shadow appeared almost between them, readily seen from the light of the orb Calia had created. Her brief grin of appreciation and determination to see him was returned by a similar grin from him but it was all they had time for. ● She had erected a solid shield of power and a midnight-black blade struck the crystal edge, whirling in a lightning-fast blur, searching again and again for any weakness to exploit. Then, knowing that together they stood more than ready, she dropped the barrier between them and the Myrddraal completely. The Fade lunged, black blade whirling, the folds of his black cloak hanging perfectly still. Elessar parried the strike deftly. The Myrddraal then spun blade and body around him, ready to attack again! The Gaidin stood ready - but then a second series of razor-sharp blends of Spirit and Air SNAPPED into place, just ahead of the unnatural twist in the Shadows - and this time they did not miss. This time there was no question of survival for the Fade. Momentum carried its ghastly form forward, until it was several paces past the end of the weave. ● Across the battlefield cheers of triumph and evident surprise sounded as the bodies of a whole legion of Trollocs collapsed in mid-run, mid-roar and mid-swing. Bound to the Fade in a mental link they were stronger and more united in battle, but if the Fade was killed then they would all lose their lives. It was a risk the Shadow was willing to take. ● Elessar shared a triumphant grin with Calia as the Myrddraal started dying. Fades always took a long time to die but this one was well on its way though its limbs were still jerking. Gazing down at the Shadowspawn he moved aside as the still moving corpse was handled by another Sister of the White Tower. The Fade was slowly being dragged into the ground itself by the One Power, as was its deadly and evil, tainted black blade wrought in Thakan’dar. Soon dirt, rocks and stones covered the place where the Shadowspawn and the abomination of its blade had been. Thunder bellowed across the heavens and the sky was darkening. Flashes of lightning, huge whirls of blazing fire snaking its way among the defenders, and the winds of storm were crashing across the battlefield, ensuring that chaos still reigned. A fresh fist of Trollocs rushed down the hillside and though they had suffered a setback with the death of the Fade linked to the legion of Shadowspawn this Army of the Shadow had not given up. Dreadlords fought Aes Sedai, the golden-haired woman on the rise sent fireball after fireball at the valiant soldiers fighting below, and further up the alley the unknown threat waited patiently for the outcome. ● Mist was rising over the lower, darker patches of the plain and battle had resumed everywhere. Elessar took stock of the situation, still ignoring the pain from his wounds, knowing none of them were lethal and could be Healed later once this battle was ended. He shared another look with Calia, seeing her slight concern since she would feel his exhaustion through the bond, then nodded with a small smile that he would cope. Drawing strength from her beside him, both physically and mentally, and determined that they would survive this together, he stood proudly by her side as she lined up with some of her other Sisters and - as he understood it - linked with them with Saidar. Together, Aes Sedai and Warders, valiant Kandori fighters, as one they stood in the warm Glow of the Light as they readied their Final Stand against the Shadow. ▀▄
  11. ..In the Line of Fire and Storm .. ►▼◄ A Wall of Air SLAMMED into Elessar, flinging him twenty feet backwards on the battlefield! He landed hard on his back, tumbling over in pain and confusion, the wind knocked out of him. Sounds of battle echoed in his mind but whether it was from far off or close by he could not say. It took several moments before his lungs worked again and he was able to breathe. He took some ragged breaths and tried to get to his feet but was unable. He felt great concern through the bond from Calia but was still dazed and was unable to determine how close she was. They had been fighting side by side but somehow had gotten separated. Trying to ignore the pain in his chest and back, the Warder tried a second time to rise. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a Trolloc come towards him battle-axe raised and his instincts took over. Brushing aside his pain he rolled away from the beast and with a great effort found his feet. Just then one of his fellow Gaidin shouted to him and threw him a sword. Grabbing it in mid-air he swung it towards the charging beast and deflected an overhead swing. Adrenaline now helped him overcome the dizziness. He thought he heard someone shout his name and Calia seemed to get closer to him but he had all his focus on the bull-horned beast trying to kill him. Swinging his blade upward but then twisting to the side at the last moment, a surprising and proficient move, it slammed into the Trolloc’s abdomen making the beast curse in pain. As the moments passed Elessar felt his head clear more and more and he was able to make use of his advanced sword forms. He was cloaked now in the Flame and the Void, the sword a part of him as he leapt to strike, bent to defend, went high and then low, slicing into the beast before him. With every slice the Trolloc cursed in fury, blood flowing from his wounds. Low Wind Rising, a diagonal slash which began low and rose cleanly, followed by The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain, a vertical slash starting high and which in this case altered course in mid-swing, paired with Tower of Morning, a vertical slash but this time beginning low and ending high. It was too much for the beast and it fell mortally wounded to the ground as Elessar’s blade struck hard into its neck. ● Only then did the mayhem and loud noise of battle register in his mind. Having time to look around for a moment he saw Calia running toward him and even from a distance he saw the concern on her face. He felt it through the bond as well. On his other side the Warder who had thrown him the blade was fighting another brute beast, his sword running through the Trolloc even as he watched. Further away nearer the hill he saw several Sedai and Warders fight what looked like two Myrddraal and almost a fist of Trollocs. Sweeping his gaze up past them on an elevation he saw a woman with long golden hair and hands raised throw fire around her in what was a very powerful display. Even as he watched she created a kind of transparent dome around herself and appeared to grow in size. Twice as tall as a Trolloc. Three times as tall. Four times as tall. It was Illusion by use of the One Power, Elessar guessed from what Leandreen had strongly hinted at years ago, but even so very impressive! The huge-seeming figure turned its large eye on him for a split second and he could have sworn the woman grinned darkly at him. It was HER. I am sure of it! The moment passed.. ..and he swung his eyes back toward his bondholder who came to a breathless stop right before him. She touched his arm, her blue eyes concerned as she looked into his. Was he ok? He gave her what he thought was a comforting smile, underplaying some of the pain, but just then a shadow moved toward them, out of the shadows to the side, and stopped what he was going to say. When it came closer, he saw that it was a Fade! The Myrddraal moved slowly but confidently, its black cloak, which did not stir in the slight northern breeze, shrouding the beast beneath, its Eyeless stare fixed on the two of them. When it was ten or so feet away it stopped. It raised a black sword, a soft hiss coming from its opened mouth, the jagged teeth glistening in the late afternoon light. Elessar met its Eyeless stare with a deadly one, feeling strength and belief coming through the bond from an equally determined Calia - and then he attacked! ● Several days before, they had left the village of Renajhar in early morning, riding northwards under a light blue sky. There had been a chill in the air but they had ignored it as they had kept riding with a few Warder scouts somewhere ahead. At one point Calia had caught up with Elessar on her bay mare and had asked him if he had any news. "What news if any, Warder mine?" He had felt her coming nearer through the bond and had turned his warhorse Stormbreaker to meet her, enjoying the way she greeted him. Atop her mount her blue eyes had sparkled or at least that had been his impression and she had given him a smile which he had returned. He had greeted her back in a similar fashion, feeling the Oneness between them and revelling in it, but then had added that there was no news so far. More would be known further north. They had ridden together for a distance, chatting a little, and then she had ridden back to the main party following some distance behind. Late that same day they had arrived at the small Saldaean village of Sirah, a place equally desolate, and had bedded down in the village’s only inn. Warder scouts had been sent further north and had arrived later with news of a Shadowspawn army waiting less than a quarter day’s march away. The following morning they had awakened rested and plans had been made as to strategy now that they were only a few miles away from the battlefield. The scouts had said that the enemy army was larger than theirs and were camped in a valley before a small hill. The platoon of Kandori soldiers had arrived also and had camped a quarter mile east of the village. The Captain-General of the Green Ajah who led this Tar Valon party together with the Head Gaidin had met with the platoon commander and had agreed on a plan of attack. Two Sisters and three Warders had accompanied the Kandori war party and they had joined their brethren from the White Tower as they prepared for what was to come. Calia and Elessar had not had much time to talk since the bonding but had taken the opportunity afforded in Sirah. They had worked well together so far but connected through the bond their coordinated work would make them even more efficient in the face of the enemy. They had shared confidence and had felt they were ready for whatever lay ahead. The whole war party of the Light - from Tar Valon and also Kandor - had set off a few hours before midday, confident in their ability to face - and conquer - this Army of the Shadow! ● The Shadow of the Night cloaked the Saldaean Capital of Maradon. In the Cordamora Palace the Queen of Saldaea remained seated on her throne as the last petitioner left the Royal Hall. She sighed heavily, tired of petitions and citizens always complaining about this, that or whatever. Sweeping her fingers over her face, she then closed her eyes. It is my duty as their sovereign. I must be more patient. This is not becoming of me. Shaking her head, she turned to look at her advisor Arihna Gharam who stood close by, eyes staring at the opposite wall. Arihna was a paradox to her. Sometimes she seemed so understanding and helpful while at other times she seemed so distant. And why was it that sometimes she, the Queen, wanted so much to please her? She was only an advisor, after all. Arihna was wearing a dress of pale blue colour this evening with silver threads on the shoulders and sides. As usual she wore a necklace to match. The woman confused her, and the Queen did not like to be confused. To make a point she had been more stubborn with her advisor recently, ensuring that Arihna knew that she, the Queen, decided matters and she would take advice or not depending on each case. Arihna had not said anything but she could see it in the blond woman’s blue eyes that she was not pleased. Her advisor noticed the Queen watching her and turned toward her with a feigned smile. “I think you handled that last petition well, Your Highness.” It had been a local farmer complaining about dozens of sheep being taken by animals or beasts of some kind. She had compensated him somewhat but also demanded that he improve the fences surrounding his farmland. ● Arihna had started to call her “Your Highness” of a sudden which pleased her but also made her wonder if it was said with some mockery. Why have I started to doubt her? “I think we are done for the night”, she said smoothly, nodding softly to her advisor. “Thank you for your advice, as always.” She tried to make her smile seem genuine. “I am always ready to serve, Your Highness” Arihna replied smoothly, smiling back in a way she hoped was appropriate. She then gave a slight curtsy and headed down the aisle toward the huge oak doors at the end of the chamber. One of the guards standing there opened the door to let her through and then closed the door behind her. Alone in the Royal Hall besides the guards, the Queen remained seated for a long while, her thoughts far away. She was thinking how simple life had seemed when she had first become Queen many years before. She had been instructed in her duties by her father, the King over several years and had early on learned to handle the scheming and intrigues of the Saldaean Noble families. Their version of Game of Houses was rather pitiful compared to that in Cairhien but even so Nobles everywhere would scheme and fight for power and prestige. Now, however there was talk of Shadowspawn everywhere, of wars and upcoming strife, even rumours of the Last Battle approaching and though the Queen believed little of it she kept receiving conflicting reports and in her heart of hearts wondered if Arihna was telling her the whole truth. Were things under as much control as her advisor was trying to indicate? She wanted to believe her, her advisor seemed to know many things, but some small doubt still lingered. Shaking her head, she rose from her throne and walked out of the Royal Hall, the guards bowing to her as she left, and headed for her bedroom. It was a ways down the opposite hallway but finally she reached her room. Another guard stood outside her door and opened it for her to enter, then closed it behind her. Walking slowly across her bedroom she sat down in front of a large mirror. It was decorated in Saldaean style and she was very fond of it. Looking at her reflection in the glass she noted the grey strands at the end of the brown hair, the large oval brown eyes, the prominent nose, the strong chin, the long neck. The beautiful pale green dress of the finest silk. And the beautiful gem-filled tiara on her head matched by sapphire earrings. She looked stately, she thought. She looked a queen. But I am getting old. She could not escape the ravages of time. ● Arihna entered her personal quarters and almost slammed the door behind her. She was angry with the Queen. And also with herself. Why has she become so stubborn of late? Seating herself at her desk she retrieved a quill and paper. Dipping her quill in ink, Qariahna started writing, the sentences coming to life in beautiful flowing script. She was not pleased with her new orders, far from it, but she had to obey them. When the letter was written, she placed it in an envelope and ensured it would be delivered to the correct recipient. Putting the quill back in its place she sat back in her chair and remained seated for a long while. Her eyes drew together as she considered the situation. Her fists clenched in anger. She could continue to use Compulsion on the Queen but extended use sometimes affected the person strongly and Qariahna did not want an irrational ruler on her hands. It was much better if subtle ‘nudges’ and encouragement did the job. ‘Subtle’ was not Qariahna’s strongest character trait, though, so it was a balance she struggled somewhat to achieve. Finally she got up from her chair and went to her wardrobe. Finding a simpler dress which was suitable for riding, she put it on as well as riding boots. She also put on a travelling cloak. Stepping out of her room Arihna walked along the hallway, nodded to a pair of guards at the entrance and then departed the palace, heading for the royal stables nearby. Soon she was atop a black stallion which carried her away into the night. ● Iraya Vandelehn, Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah, walked hurriedly through the Tar Valon Library. Her eyes were expressionless, her face smooth to the degree of coldness. All feeling and passion had been driven out of her by the Turning; all that remained was a total focus on completing her mission for the Shadow. Which was to break the Blue Ajah from within. She had killed two Sisters already from her former Ajah - bodies that lay hidden in graves miles out of Tar Valon - but had not yet been able to dispatch of the Ajah Head. She was sure she would succeed though, and without having to involve others of the Black Ajah in the Tower. Her determination was as strong as ever and she always succeeded with tasks she set her mind to. ● Passing another Blue Sister, a tall brown-haired woman with green eyes and delicate features, leafing through an ancient book by some shelves she nodded perfunctorily but walked on without a word. The other Sedai frowned momentarily but shrugged, having become used to Iraya’s cold attitude ever since she had returned from her mission. Instead she shared a few words with a Brown Sister, Denya Sedai, a short woman with almost white hair, piercing blue eyes and prominent cheek bones, who had stopped near her. Sisters from different Ajahs often avoided one another in the White Tower but Amandha Sedai had never cared for such customs. She was a positive, smiling person and enjoyed talking to all Sisters in the White Tower. The Brown Sedai grinned, her eyes friendly, when Amandha mentioned that the book the other was holding perhaps was more appropriate for a Green. “Ah, but this is a topic worthy of some serious research”, Denya said with a wink. “We all know what men can be like.” Amandha had to stifle a non-Aes Sedai like chuckle and her grin made the one hundred eighty five year old Brown Sedai grin back. “You are probably right”, Amandha said as she looked down at the book the other was holding. “Did you find anything of special interest?” She enquired, trying to wipe the grin off her face but not with any success. She had always been fond of men and some of her Ajah Sisters on more than one occasion had said she should have chosen Green. “Well”, the Brown Sister replied with a lopsided grin, “here is a part you might find interesting.” She opened the book and found the section she was looking for. It was an excerpt on the difference between men and women by a scholar called Paitr Dulain. Handing the book to the Blue Sister with a kind smile, she watched in silence as Amandha read the old excerpt. Denya thanked the Great Lord that she had not lost interest in men once she had chosen the Brown Ajah many, many years ago. Men would always be interesting for her. Men of history but also men of.. flesh. There was always something new to discover. Her eyes glittered in rememberance. ● An excerpt from the book “Men and women: a Difference in Perspective” by Paitr Dulain, Scholar Mindea, Murandy The Third Age ------------------------------- ..One of the first lessons a man learns (or rather is supposed to learn) when he reaches a certain age, is that when in the company of a woman there is a time to speak - and a time to stay silent. This is a very interesting lesson because there is seemingly no definite as to when one should speak in a lady’s company and when one should remain silent. It depends much on the man and the woman. On culture and local customs. And on the situation itself. And perhaps also on other, more basic, factors. Seeing as men are very simple beings (no hiding that fact however much they may protest such a description in public), men are extremely good at missing the nuances and hints and intricacy of this matter and therefore more often than not manage in a spectacular fashion to do the wrong thing, i.e. to speak when they should not, or to stay silent when they should speak. Some believe this is a gene that men are born with, though scholars across the continent have found no definite proof of this as of yet. There is great speculation, however, that such a gene probably exists because one cannot escape the fact that a surprisingly large amount of male members of society - whether highborn or lowborn, from the North or the South, the East or the West, whether fat or slim, shy or extrovert, dim-witted or intelligent, sly or honest - they all seem to share this fascinating, extraordinary ability. It seems improbable to most scholars that all males around the world should learn this ‘ability’ to such an impressive degree in childhood or through adolescence, regardless of culture, national traditions, local customs and so on. It seems more a kind of ‘inborn’ instinct - and one which on countless occasions throughout history has landed men in trouble to the great amusement - and sometimes painful frustration - of their female counterparts. It must be admitted that _some_ men do learn some of these intricacies through frequent interaction with wives, mistresses and other females in society over a long period of time and after much, much practice (and countless failures), but it is highly doubtful if any man will ever truly excel in this (for him) instinctively highly unnatural endeavour. More research will definitely have to be done on this matter - and fortunately (for us scholars) there is an unending supply of test-subjects for our use.. ● The dagger stood out of High Lord Saididred’s throat and blood flowed readily onto his white embroidered shirt. His eyes were bereft of light as they stared endlessly into the void. By the time the Head of House Delovinde was found by passersby in the Cairhien side street, Samos was long gone. The assassination had gone exactly as planned and Samos was very pleased. With the help of two other men they had stopped the horse-drawn coach just in the right place that evening, the darkness hiding much. They had dispatched of the guards on and inside the coach and finally the High Lord himself. He had begged for his life like some commoner, wetting his breeches in fear, but Samos had shown no mercy. Stabbing the man in the throat to make sure he was killed he had grinned darkly, relishing the murder, before leaving hastily along with the others. Later that night, laying in his bed in the safe house in the northern part of the city, he smiled smugly. He would only get praise this time. For once. The thought pleased him. He deserved to get accolades for his work for the Great Lord. He had succeeded in this mission and even she had to be pleased. He could not fathom anything else. Licking the blood from his fingers, not having bothered to wash his hands after he got back, he relished the taste of death. When a few moments later a shadow rose from the shadows in the corner of his room and a large, rough hand soon pressed down hard on his face, blue eyes somehow sparkling in the near-darkness, Samos hardly had time to react. He reached for the knife he always kept at his bed side table but did not know if it would be too late. ● The SKIES were on FIRE. Red and orange and yellow in a terrifying blend - and bolts of lightning battered the battlefield! Thunder rolled across the heavens and the blood of war littered the ground. Blasts upon blasts as Aes Sedai fought Dreadlords with Fire and Air and Water in cascading waves. The air sang with Power, Saidar burning with Flames of intensity, as the Forces of Good and Evil fought on that battlefield near the Plain of Lances that day. And Death Surrounded them all. Trollocs fought Warders, brute strength pitched against excellence with sword and blade, and blood flowed in streams. Myrddraal glided like Shadows among the combatants, Dancing along dark paths only they could see, while arrows in their hundreds flew over their heads from Kandori archers at the back. Aes Sedai stood strong with their valiant Warders at their side, fighting like warrior poets in the face of Shadow and Death. Their arms raised, lightning bolts flew from their hands and spiralling whirlwinds shot across the battleground to fall upon the enemy. It was a World of Chaos. And then…. ..unseen by most of those fighting.. .. a little further along the battlefield, a figure suddenly came into view. The figure was cloaked in black and with the hood down so no one could see its face. It stopped, however, and remained standing for a few seconds as if reviewing the battlefield. Then it raised a tall staff it had been carrying. The staff was Black as Night with ancient, unfamiliar letters and symbols running down its length. At one end was a small crystal ball which was sizzling with power. A Sa'angreal from another time and place. ● Time seemed to Stop for a moment.. and all sound and activity Ceased across the battlefield, leaving an eerie Silence. ● And then, Raising the staff high with both hands, Shouting commands in a language never heard in this place for millennia, he hammered the staff into the ground! C A R A I A N S I D A M A!! The ground shivered in pain, shaking - and a BLAST of Power shot forward like an avalanche of Air! A Storm spreading out and SLAMMING into most of those battling it out along the valley. And roaring Thunder followed in its wake. A Storm of Saidin also blew inside the powerful black cloaked hooded figure, strengthened by the ancient Sa'angreal - but it was a storm he relished and embraced! A figure of Darkness, a figure of Power, Amaranth was one with the Storm. ▀▄
  12. .. Reflected in a Colour of Blood .. ►▼◄ Nymeria watched the Shadowspawn army assembled in the valley beneath her with scorn. The Trollocs had their use - their strength, ferocity and numbers compensated somewhat for their lack of intelligence - but even so it had always irked her that they had need to make use of such simple creatures in their mission for the Great Lord. Her sapphire-blue eyes drew together and she pursed her lips as she spotted the several Myrddraal walking among the Trolloc fists. ● Wearing their black armour with overlapping scales and black cloaks which did not stir in the wind, the Eyeless Ones moved among the Trollocs like spiders inspecting a web. They were more intelligent creatures, Nymeria knew, and very sly. She did not fear any of them, such was her confidence in herself, but one had to tread carefully around them, that was only prudent. She ran her fingers through her long pale golden hair as a soft breeze coming in from the south touched her beautiful face with the lightness of a feather. She wore a long dress that was dark green in colour but with touches of blue at the hem and with a leather band at her waist. Leather also adorned parts of her sleeves in a pattern which was from another time and place. Around her swan-like neck there was an emerald necklace which glinted in the afternoon sunlight with promises of what was to come. And on her left ring finger sat a blue ring shaped like a flame. Gazing down at it lovingly, she smiled mischievously. It was a very powerful Angreal which she had procured many years before, at some cost. It was one of her most priced possessions. Embracing Saidar, she drew as much as she could through the Angreal and felt a euphoria of power envelope her. The sweetness of it was so great and seductive that she had to forcefully stop herself from drawing more or she knew she could end up burning herself out, or worse. It was almost painful to let go of the One Power, she wanted to embrace it at all times, but she had learned the hard way that it was prudent to go without it sometimes. ● Quenching the burning flame within her, she focused on the tall Myrddraal standing a dozen feet beneath her on the hillside. They were in a valley north-east of a shabby village called Sirah close to the Plain of Lances. They had been there several days - waiting. And everyone was getting restless. Nymeria had been tempted to move the army further south, since that was where they expected the Lightfools to come from, but she had her orders and did not dare disobey them. She had no intention of making the Great Lord angry with her. At least not yet. The Trollocs were extremely restless though and fights had erupted between the fists. It had taken several Myrddraal besides Nymeria herself to calm things down and cook pots had been filled with captured men from farms in the region to satisfy the Trolloc hunger and need for flesh and blood. The screams that had filled the Saldaean night had not bothered her. Rather she had been tempted to partake in some torture, to make the time fly. She had resisted the temptation though, knowing she would get enough thrills in the slaying of Lightfools in battle later. “Make sure there is no more trouble”, she said facing the Fade. Her voice was icy cold. “I will not tolerate it!” The Eyeless One said nothing in return, his face as pale, expressionless and noncommittal as always, but finally he nodded. She did not like that he always waited a few seconds before nodding. It was almost as if he were mocking her, saying without saying that he was not afraid of her. Which could actually be true. Myrddraal were feared creatures, hard to kill, and she had never been quite certain that they feared her kind. But they obeyed orders they knew were coming - directly or indirectly - from the Great Lord, and that would have to do. ● “Good!” she replied after a long moment. Her blue eyes were hard and unyielding. She touched her blue ring and was tempted to open herself to the One Power but she resisted. She looked upon it as a lesson in discipline. And moderation. (neither of which were qualities she was particularly known for). When the Fade left to ride down the hillside to where the army waited, Nymeria’s eyes followed him all the way down. Only when he was gone from sight, did her eyes move to the far horizon. The sky was azure-blue as far as one could see with only the occasional grey cloud spoiling the image of a watery ocean above. And the golden sun shone with brilliance, throwing its rays of light down on the hillside and valley below. Soon the enemy would appear - and Nymeria could not wait to face the so-called Aes Sedai women of this Age. Children playing with fire. Her hand went to the small scar on her left cheek, and she reminded herself that it could be dangerous to underestimate one’s enemies. Even so, she had no doubt they would win this battle. Her spies had told her that the Tar Valon party was small and that it included less than ten Sisters. No help would be coming from the Saldaean army either, she had been assured. Her blue eyes went to the dark-cloaked Dreadlords that stood a little further away on the hillside. They had not either been happy having to wait but they too obeyed. They better, or they will pay the price! Feeling the sun on her face, on her delicate fair skin, bathing in the Light of it, Nymeria opened herself to Saidar and as the magnificent flow of power ran through her veins, making her heart beat strongly with sensational pleasure, she closed her sparkling blue eyes and embraced the Shadow within. ● That night Elessar dreamt of Myrrhi. Perhaps it was elation from being bonded again, the thrill of feeling that connection again to an Aes Sedai, a thrill that had stayed with him as he had fallen asleep. Perhaps it was his subconscious bringing memories to the fore, of a time before when he had been bonded to a Sister of the White Tower. For whatever reason, memories from the past swept through his sleep that night.. dreams of another time.. of another Warder-Sedai bond.. of another connection.. ● Walking across to the small window on the far wall in his room, Elessar stared out into the Ebou Dari morning. The sun was slowly rising in a blue sky that had some patches of clouds here and there. He saw what looked like large ocean-birds in the far horizon.. it was difficult to judge size from such a distance and elevation but they seemed unusually large. With all the strange things he had seen in his many years as a Gaidin, not the least this past year, this was simply another strange addition to a changing world. His hands on the side of the small window, he stared out at the neighbouring buildings and the side-street, which was coming to life, his mind already on the ball they were attending that evening. Increasingly he felt some agitation coming through the bond and finally he decided to go and make sure Myrrhi was alright. He felt pretty certain that she was fine, just caught up in her arduous workout and her pursuit of competence, but it was only prudent to make sure. Stepping out of his room, he entered the corridor behind and stopped outside Myrrhi’s room. He felt her exerting herself inside. Knocking on the door, he waited for a reply. “Come in, Elessar”, he heard her say from behind the door in her almost-out-of-breath voice. Opening the door, he found her in her riding clothes, her cheeks redder than normal, her breath heavy, obviously having finished a sword form. He saw that she had pushed some of the furniture away from the center of the room to have more space for her workout. Seeing that she was indeed alright, as he had suspected, he gave her a grin. ● “Still eager to become another Rashima Kerenmosa, I see”, he said with kind amusement, hinting teasingly at the legendary and heavily decorated Sister of the Green, ‘the Soldier Amyrlin’, a true heroine of the White Tower and the symbol of all it means to be a Green Aes Sedai. He closed the door behind him. She gave him a lopsided grin back. “Well, if you keep practicing those sword forms for another hundred years or so”, he added teasingly, “_and_ gain the leadership skills to match, you may succeed one day.” She saw the glint in his eyes, heard the resonance in his voice, and knew him well enough by now to know that he was _not_ mocking her in any way, rather it was _his_ humourous, teasing way of showing approval for her tireless efforts. “Well, when I do”, she replied catching her breath, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement, brushing some sweat from her brow, “I will certainly need to get myself a dozen other Gaidin as well. Nothing less would do in my.. esteemed role.” Her grin widened and she enjoyed seeing his eyes widen ever so slightly for a moment before he returned her grin, swallowed a chuckle and gave her a small bow. “First though”, she said, “I need to get myself cleaned up and have a bath.” Her eyes sparkled anew as she added, “For we have a ball to attend this evening.. and we must look presentable. And that means _you_ too.” She enjoyed the momentary slight squirm in his face at the mention of the ball, knowing full well that he enjoyed such formal events far less than she did. “You better put on your finest, Warder of mine”, she said as her eyes twinkled but also with a serious edge. “We _are_ the White Tower this evening.. and must impress them.” ● She wore a simple dark green dress with tight sleeves and made of silk. It was elegant, Elessar thought as he looked her over. He noted that the bodice was ornated by a series of small black orchids embroidered in the fabric. It was a nice touch. He could not recall having seen her wear that dress before. He nodded approvingly as he met her eyes. “Very elegant, my Aes Sedai.” He said with a smile, a glint in his eye. “Very elegant indeed.” Her blue eyes twinkled and she nodded approvingly back at him, pleased at his remark and that he had indeed put on his finest and looked rather dashing in his stylish black attire, she had to admit. “You don’t look so bad yourself”, she replied with a small grin, pretty certain that he would draw the attention of more than a few noblewomen at the ball. “Come on, let’s go and meet this High Lady.” ● “Welcome, Myrrhi Aes Sedai”, the old man said as Alyssa was ushered out of the chamber. “I am Kaslan, Master of Ceremonies for House Asnobar.” He gave another small bow. “The High Lady will be most pleased to meet you.” Myrrhi gave a respectful nod back, smiling. Elessar studied the tall staff the Master of Ceremonies held. It looked old and was heavily decorated in what looked like gold though the Warder doubted it was the real thing. It looked imposing, however, and the Ebou Dari man held it with reverence. The Master of Ceremonies turned toward the large double-door behind him. It was also decorated with the blue moons, which they took to be sigils of House Asnobar. He nodded and they followed him toward the huge door. He opened it carefully and swept through. His voice boomed out as Myrrhi stepped into the ballroom, a huge richly decorated chamber, which she now saw was partially filled with nobles in their finest. “Myrrhi Morrigen, Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah!” He announced, hitting the tall staff heavily three times on the floor. All eyes in the ballroom went to the entrance. The Aes Sedai swept past the old Ebou Dari man looking regal and self-assured in her beautiful green dress, as the Master of Ceremonies added her companion’s name and title. Myrrhi glided down the ballroom, head held high, past dozens of nobles who moved aside with swiftness, like a queen in her own palace, with Elessar striking an imposing Warder-figure in black a step behind her. At the end of the ballroom, a small dais had an opulent chair upon which sat an Ebou Dari woman well past her middle age, with long hair and shining eyes, who wore much jewelry, a beautiful dress and a shrewd, calculating face. The High Lady Cyrelle Miriahna Asnobar. ● The smile she gave Myrrhi as they neared the dais was one of many undercurrents. Bowing correctly from her seated position but with the barest minimum of decorum towards the Aes Sedai, the High Lady smiled shrewdly and welcomed them to Ebou Dar and these festivities. Myrrhi nodded politely back, but as a queen would to a noble. She _was_ Aes Sedai after all. “I am glad you could accept our invitation. We are honoured by your presence, Myrrhi Aes Sedai”, the High Lady of House Asnobar said smoothly, as the nobles returned to their chatting, mingling and scheming in the ballroom. At least that was how Elessar saw it, standing a little back and to the side. “I hope your coming will be of mutual benefit.” The Ebou Dari woman added, her eyes glinting. “It can serve us both.” Myrrhi’s smile was equally many-faceted. “So do I.”, she said, in a no-nonsense but polite voice. Her blue eyes sparkled. “The White Tower’s time is valuable.” The High Lady’s black eyes glittered in response. ● The sun set over the nation of Cairhien. Originally the country had been called Al'cair'rahienallen, which in the old Old Tongue meant "Hill of the Golden Dawn." The city and country were weakened in the Aiel War. Cairhien, like many of the current nations, became sovereign at the end of the War of the Hundred Years. For four hundred years after, it enjoyed a period of unprecedented wealth. This was due primarily to the Aiel, who granted Cairhienen the exclusive right to cross the Aiel Waste and trade for silk in Shara. This prosperity ended when Laman Damodred cut down Avendoraldera, a cutting from the Tree of Life and a gift from the Aiel, and unknowingly sparked the Aiel War. During this war the city of Cairhien was burned and partially destroyed. These days the Cairhienin were perhaps best known for having invented Daes Dae'mar (the Game of Houses), a system of intrigue and clever political plotting. In truth they were only matched - or, as some believed, bettered - by the Servants to All, though most Warders would thread very carefully in front of Aes Sedai if ever that subject came up. ● The city of Cairhien was situated on the east bank of the River Alguenya. Once inside the city gates a traveller was met by streets filled with people and buildings and shops and vendors and squares and fountains and smells and sights of all kinds. And several inns. In one of these, called “The Golden Swan”, with a classy sign above the entrance depicting a joyful golden swan in flight, there were many customers this early evening and the mood was boisterous. In a far corner, however, sat a tall and imposing man on his own, bowed over a glass of beer. He wore a thick dark cloak which almost hid his face but from within the hood one could glimpse dark hair and hard dark eyes. A good observer might also have glimpsed the emerald ring he wore on his right hand and the way the man seemed to touch the ring intermittently as if double-checking that it was still there. Samos was brooding and did not have a mind for any of the chatting and singing and joyfulness that permeated this establishment on this fine evening. He was thinking of his mission and how he was to accomplish it. He tried to ignore the mix of anger and fear which always came upon him when he thought of.. her. At least she had let him be for a while now - and for that he was grateful. It was hard enough to find the right way to succeed in his mission without having her criticizing his every move. Taking another sip from his cold beer he then touched his emerald ring another time, as if trying to find inspiration in the cold metal surrounding the gem. The killing-part of the mission was no problem for him. He had killed many times before and would in the future. The question was rather what was the best way of killing the Lord Saididred of the Cairhien House Delovinde. The Nobleman was heavily guarded in his mansion, Samos’ spies had told him, and several guards were always with him when he went out into the city by his horses-drawn coach. The Game of Houses apparently had made him paranoid these last few years - and as a result an assassination would need more planning. Samos had only been told that this High Lord apparently was in a position of favour with the Cairhienin Queen and that it would serve their interests to remove that personal link. He did not need to know anymore. He had to decide on how to carry out the deed though. ● Sipping more from his drink, he went over in his mind what he had seen of the mansion. There were high stone walls on all sides and inside a large garden before the immense building itself. The gate was always guarded by several men who looked hardened in Samos’ opinion and all in all getting into the mansion and killing the High Lord seemed difficult. No, it’s better to do it when he is out in the city. I just have to seize the opportunity. Samos did not like to depend on others on his missions, the worthless bunch back in Caemlyn were a good example why, but this time he would probably need some help. Nodding to himself, a plan gradually building in his head, he drank the last of the beer and got up and left the inn, shutting the entrance door behind him. The sound of the gleeman telling a story of war and remembrance drifted into the dark night as the door closed and Samos walked up the street in the direction of another establishment a little further into the city. He did not sense the blue eyes watching him shrewdly. ● Argam smiled as he held his beloved daughter in his arms. She buried her face in his chest, feeling the warmth and protection of his embrace. Her eyes were still wide and her breath was short. “But Papa, I did see the shadowy woman”, she mumbled into his chest. “I swear, she was there.. and then she was not.” “So so, Sandana.” He replied in a soothing voice. “I checked and there is no one about.” He ruffled her brown hair lovingly. The almost surreal episode with the axe several weeks before had shaken him to the core, but as the days had passed the memory had gradually dwindled and he had almost convinced himself that he had imagined it all. Nothing untoward had happened since.. until the occurrence earlier this day. If it had happened at all. His daughter’s imagination was vivid and perhaps the axe episode had rattled her more than he had thought. Even so, he had checked the grounds around their home several times to make sure no one was about. He had seen nothing and no one. “You are safe here”, he said reassuringly, holding onto his daughter tightly. ● “I love you, Papa.” Her soft, loving voice made his heart full. “I love you too, sweetheart.” She held onto him for long moments but then slipped out of his embrace and down to the floor. He saw her still wide eyes glance quickly at the door, but then she turned and went to pick up something from the cupboard. It was a hand-sized circular object made of a strange dark material and it was one of her most prized possessions. She caressed it affectionately and her fingers traced the unusual symbols in its middle with curiosity and excitement. Seeing the fear gradually disappear from his daughter’s eyes, replaced by a child’s wonder, warmed him, and the way she held onto the object which he had given her made him happy. It was a family heirloom of sorts, passed down in his family over generations. He did not in fact know what it was exactly, his mother had never told him. All she had said was to keep it in the family - and well hidden. It was apparently valuable. His daughter had taken to it quickly; it meant much to her. His smiling eyes shifted to one of the windows and he stared long in that direction, light from the outside streaming into the room, before moving towards the door. His face grew more somber. My imagination is getting the better of me too, he thought with some disapproval as he opened the door and went outside. Sweeping his gaze over the grounds - the trees and bushes, the small garden near the house which Sandana was overseeing, the wooden table with chairs he had made the previous year, the huge stones that stood as sentinels guarding the place - he registered that everything was as it should be. The sun overhead was clear in a sapphire-blue sky as far as the eye could see, but there was a slight chill in the air coming from the north. Nodding to himself, pleased that he had been right in that there was no danger about, he was just turning back toward the house when.. ..a different chill made the hairs on his arms stand on end. A shiver ran down his spine as a shadowy figure suddenly -out of nowhere- appeared beside him! The figure was almost transparent. ● Eyes wide as saucers, he stared at the figure in near disbelief.. and then his eyes fixed on the figure’s face.. and he caught his breath! It was Indrina!! IT CANNOT BE!! His darling wife’s face stared back at him, translucent but her facial features were so familiar. She smiled lovingly at him, a smile that would burn itself into his memory. Stunned, his breath caught in his throat and he was unable to move! HOW!!? The love he had felt for her brought tears to his eyes - but now his eyes were also filled with fear.. ● ~ The moment seemed to last forever.. as if time had stopped ~ ● Sharing a silent loving gaze, their eyes were united, their souls joined for an endless moment.. ..but then her eyes closed - and it was as if time started again. And she reached out for him.. ready for a final embrace.. but passed right through him like air. And then she was gone. ● WHAT HAPPENED!!? Running his fingers through his short dark hair, Argam let out his breath, his eyes still wide and unbelieving, tears running down his cheeks. The apparition was gone.. but it had been Idrina. Her spirit. Of that he was certain. My darling Idrina. He did not know what was going on with the world; everything was upside down, impossible things happening. Something was wrong though - and he sensed that some kind of change was coming. And it frightened him. ● Qariahna removed a petal from the Red rose she was holding in her hand and it floated to the marble floor in a dance of light. It shimmered slightly, like everything else in this place, almost as if switching between existence and non-existence, its Blood-Red colour deepening as it settled on the white marble. Removing a second petal, it too floated downwards in tiny spirals to join its sister. Qariahna’s mind was elsewhere, thinking about the latest episode with the Saldaean Queen. She had been strangely unwilling to listen to her advisor and Qariahna had had to use much Compulsion to make her see reason. The Queen was becoming more difficult to handle and Qariahna wondered why that was so. A third petal floated to the marble floor as Qariahna’s dark eyes tightened. What is she up to? The Queen had also seemed somewhat secretive of late and Qariahna did not like that she was keeping secrets from her, or rather from her royal advisor Arihna Gharam. Qariahna grinned thinking about the woman she was impersonating with the Queen. Even so, this matter irritated her. She needed to be in control of events and she did not like unanswered questions. She plucked a fourth petal from the red rose absent-mindedly and let it fall to the floor. Gazing at the white wall at the other end of the spacious sparsely furnished room her mind drifted to the meeting today. He was coming - and she did not look forward to it. But she had been ordered to attend, and so she was here. ● A crystal cup filled with Red wine stood on the table before her and an empty cup by the chair on the other side. A crystal goblet filled with wine stood between them. Otherwise the exquisite table was empty. Shifting her gaze to the intricate patterns drawn across the top of the marble table her mood improved. She had always loved the table. It half flickered in this place, a reflection of its near-being. Touching it lovingly with her right hand, she brushed her fingers across its smooth surface. This special marble table has a history, just like I do. A fifth petal fell from the red rose, dancing downwards in spirals to the floor. At just that moment a chime sounded, slightly startling the dark-haired, darked-eyed beautiful woman. She had been deep in thought and as she settled in her chair, gathering her equilibrium, she noted the drops of blood falling onto the marble floor, Blood-Red drops from where she had cut her finger on the rose’s thorns. Casting the rose away with some annoyance, she thought the drops on the floor were becoming a deeper red even as she watched. They glinted as well, almost as if admonishing her for her foolishness. Ridding herself of such idle thoughts, she focused her mind on the matter at hand. ● The oak door at the end of the room opened and a dark-cloaked, hooded figure entered confidently. It always amused Qariahna that he kept his hood down in all their meetings since she knew very well who he was and what he looked like, but it was something he stuck by and it did not really matter to her. Closing the door behind him, the man walked slowly toward the table and sat down in the empty chair, giving her a slight nod. He reached for the goblet and poured himself some wine. Taking a quick sip, he then placed the cup on the table before him and gazed down at the strange patterns depicted in the marble. “You always did like this table, didn’t you - Qariahna?” He said with some amusement. His voice was deep and with what she had always felt was a condescending edge. “Yes”, she replied smoothly. “Unlike some.. it is quite dependable - and constant.” The man chuckled and though she could not see his face she knew he was grinning darkly. “Tables also do as they are told”. His voice was hard. “As do all who serve the Great Lord.” “You have no claim on me”, she responded, some heat in her voice. “I have done as I was ordered.” “Yes, you have.” The man replied smoothly. “To some.. extent at least..” There was a long pause and Qariahna knew a ‘but’ was coming. Her dark eyes tightened. She had never been good at taking criticism. From Anyone. Anywhere. And she hated being talked down to. “But”, the cloaked figure added finally, a harsh edge now to his voice, “you were never given permission to use the Khi’dara!” ● Qariahna froze. How did he know about that!? It was a secret she had sworn to carry to her grave. He was not supposed to know about it. He could not know about it!! Keeping her facial features smooth, taking a moment to compose her voice, she then replied innocently. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Her voice was even which pleased her. Inside though her heart was beating hard. If the Great Lord learned that she was using the Khi’dara without permission, she would be punished. And punished hard. “You do not fool me, Qariahna.” The man said pointedly, lifting his hidden face slightly. “And neither do you fool the Great Lord.” The strange patterns on the marble table seemed to shift slightly and Qariahna knew that he was using the One Power. She too was filled with the One Power, Saidar flowing through her veins. She knew that he was more powerful than her, that she had no chance against him if he opposed her, but filled with Saidar she was confident she would be strong enough to survive an attack and escape - and survival was what mattered. “Desist. That is an order!” It was a voice used to command. He sipped again from the red wine and then placed the cup back on the table. The patterns stopped shifting and Qariahna knew it had been a hint, a strong hint that she should never forget who the real power was. ● “I will”, she lied. She tried to make her voice humble but doubted she was much successful. Humility had never been one of her strong points. “Good!” The man’s voice took on a lighter tone. Whether he actually believed her or not was impossible to tell. As long as he did not press the issue, she did not care. “Now then”, he added smoothly, “to the main purpose of this visit.” The man’s gaze shifted momentarily to the marble floor, noticing the deep-red drops of blood and the fallen rose petals. His face was still hidden but Qariahna swore his grin widened. His hands rested on the table and the sleeves on his dark cloak suddenly changed texture before her eyes, unfamiliar symbols in light becoming visible running down the sleeves all the way to the cuffs. That Qariahna had not seen before and as with all new things her eyes widened slightly in wonder. Then the symbols were gone, disappearing as swiftly as they had appeared, and the sleeves were dark again, mirroring the soul of this very dangerous man. ● “A red rose, Qariahna?” The man’s voice was very amused now. “From a secret admirer, perhaps?” Her mouth tightened, her dark eyes drawing together. She was not amused. “Blood-Red is always.. suitable” the man added in a smooth voice. “Perhaps it will fit you better than that pale blue dress you so often wear?” His hand indicated the dress she was wearing. Qariahna touched the scar on her left cheek and it seemed to be burning at that very moment. Removing her fingers, she pursed her lips. Taking a long sip from her red wine, she tried to curb her impatience. Why wouldn’t he just get to the point. “As for.. Saldaea.” He said after a long moment’s silence. “There are some.. additional orders for you. Make sure you carry them out correctly.. this time.” His voice was condescending and judgmental again and she hated it. She kept her face smooth though and deferential (to the extent she managed) but inside she cursed and looked forward to the day she would no longer have to take orders from this arrogant, despicable man. ● When he finally left, she remained seated silently by the marble table for a long while. Then the rage within her erupted and she threw the cup of wine at the nearest white wall and it shattered into a hundred small crystal pieces falling to the marble floor. Wine the Colour of Blood stained the white wall, starting to flow in small rivulets downwards toward the floor. Her cheeks reddening, she tried to regain her composure but she was not ready to let go of her anger yet. Getting up from her chair, she stared down at the beloved table but now the sight did not please her. She shoved the chair back hard against the table, throwing a harsh glance at the red rose laying on the floor. Shaking her head, cursing inside in anger, her dark eyes murderous, she headed toward the door which was still open after his departure. With a final look over her shoulder at the Blood-Red wall, she left the partially-flickering room and its objects behind and soon Tel'ahran'rhiod, the World of Dreams, as well. ▀▄
  13. .. A Bond of Faith .. ►▼◄ The moment seemed to last forever. Bathed in the beautiful reflection of silver rays from the moon high above, left alone by the wind and the common sounds of life, the image of the kneeling Warder and the calm-looking Aes Sedai were burned into the memory of the silently watching old woman. A tear ran down her dirty chin and she brushed it away with an equally dirty hand, leaving smudges on her wrinkled face. But she did not care. She was spellbound - and it was as if time stood still and she were in a dream. ● Eyes closed reverently, Elessar held his breath. It was as if time stopped for him, as if the Wheel of Time momentarily paused in its eternal journey through the Pattern of the Ages, as if the silver moon high above stared down at him in distinct approval, and the wind which had brushed famed Dragonmount on its long way northwards ceased moving for a while, giving him a moment of near perfection. And inner peace. ● The Aes Sedai woman was speaking now but so softly that the old villager was unable to hear. It was not important. Running her rough hands through her greasy grey hair, the woman smiled, her grin almost toothless, eyes wide with wonder. She moved a little to the side of the old shed where she had been hiding, to get a better view, her scruffy dress getting caught on a nail in the woodwork, but her attention was on the couple a distance away and she did not notice the slightly ripped dress. The Warder was still kneeling, his cloak brushing the ground, his head bowed in reverence while the Sister of the White Tower looked down at him. Then the Sister knelt also, her head bowed in respect. The old woman held her breath as the moment lingered, thanking the heavens that the clouds that had shadowed the moon had moved on so she was able to see in the clear light from the moon and stars. The Aes Sedai are here to save us from the Shadowspawn. The old woman thought with gratitude as she kept watching. And Warders will join them. Together they will drive the foul ones back to where they came from. ● Letting out his breath again, his dark eyes still closed, Elessar waited.. his heart skipping a beat.. his pulse rising again.. hope burning inside him like a flame that had too long been absent.. until.. She spoke. When she said that she would be beyond honoured to have him as her Warder, joy filled him, hope fulfilled. He felt happiness inside since he would now become a bonded Warder again. He would be whole again. Slowly he opened his dark eyes. They sparkled now, wet with the water of hope. He remained kneeling, his head bowed, but saw from the corner of his eye that Calia lowered herself to the ground before him. In a subtle swish of green silk, she settled knee-to-knee with him and reached for his hands, bowing her head to his. "The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills," she whispered with the wind. "But without question, Elessar, I would be beyond honoured," ● Another tear ran down the old woman’s cheek, as her eyes were glued to what was happening only forty feet or so away by the fence and the trees. She had never seen a bonding before but she knew this was what she was seeing. Many, many years before, when she had been but a girl, an Aes Sedai, a woman with the stance of a queen and the fierce eyes of an eagle, had come into the village to test girls. She remembered it vividly. She had been agape at seeing an Aes Sedai in their little village. She had been tested but found to have no spark. The disappointment had worn off in time, many tears later, but ever since that first moment she had been in awe of Aes Sedai and as an adult had read books on the White Tower and its Sisters. She had also talked to visitors to the village from the South to get news of the Aes Sedai - what battles they were fighting, what heroics they were up to for the Light - and had wanted to learn all there was about them, much to her late husband Maram’s grumbling. Not that he had had anything against the Tar Valon Sisters, of course, but it was safest to stay away from their One Power and such he had always claimed. She had ignored him, continuing her quest to learn more, and in time had also wanted to learn more about Warder-bonds which one of her books had briefly mentioned without, of course, going into any detail. It seemed something magical to her, something few would ever experience or be able to watch. And this night, by chance, or fate as she liked to think of it afterwards, she had been out in the garden throwing away some refuse when the couple had passed her worn-down house. Recognizing the Warder’s cloak and the way he carried himself and glimpsing the regal look on the Aes Sedai’s face from the partial light from the moon, she had caught her breath and, unable to stop herself, had followed them from some distance. Watching enthralled, she now saw the Aes Sedai rise carefully to her feet, her hands holding his. He rose too but did not straighten, keeping his head slightly below hers. The silver moonlight shone down on them both as if in a Moment of Revelation and though the old woman could not see anything happening, she knew something was. The wind has stopped blowing, as if waiting.. waiting for completion, waiting for resolution. She did not know how she knew but she did. The air was still. There were no sounds anywhere. It was as if time paused for a few moments - and just for her. Another tear of happiness began running down her chin as she watched with an expression of pure rapture on her face. It was the finest, most precious moment in old Lavara’s life. ● The honour is mine, Elessar whispered in his mind, grateful for the Aes Sedai’s words. He knew they would be true and it warmed his soul that she too very much wanted this bonding. Calia then rose slowly as she spoke, still holding Elessar’s hands. Her voice was clear and strong as she told him in affirmation that he would stand ready, bonded at her side, fighting for life ‘till Tarmon Gai’don and beyond. He swore in his heart that it would be so. On his honour. On his life. My life before yours. Calia stood smiling in the circle of silver moonlight, encouraging Elessar to do the same. He rose slowly, anticipation building within him, as the silver rays from above shone on his face. The wind stopped blowing and the air seemed to go still, as if in a Moment of Revelation. ● Calia smiled in satisfaction and caught Elessar's eye to be sure he was ready. He gave a slight nod in affirmation, preparing himself for the avalanche of feelings that would come as she placed the bonding-weave on him. He had felt the weaves enveloping him each time he had been bonded through the years and each time it had been indescribable. It was no different this time. The feeling was as if he were drenched in cold water but at the same time swept into an ocean of fire. It was images and colours and smells and sounds and all of it coming together in a single otherworldly moment.. or an eternity. He could never tell. And then he felt her. Or at least the sense of her. It was hard to tell the difference. His eyes began watering slightly but he paid it no mind. The bliss of being connected to an Aes Sedai again almost took his breath away. The swirl of emotions running through him caught him in its grip and held him fast. He knew he should be used to this by now but he was just as awestruck each time and it always took a little time to get used to.. And for some reason the emotions he felt were never exactly the same. He had spoken with Leandreen about it after their bonding so many years ago and though she had been unwilling to talk much about the subject she had hinted that the experience, the emotions felt, depended to some extent on the Sister in question and also the Gaidin. As he felt her through the bond - emotions but not thoughts, excitement but also something else he could not quite define - he tried to get a hold on his own emotions. They were united now in more ways than one. United in a struggle for Life. With vulnerability and strength, with power and weakness. Focused together in a Fight against the Shadow. Together - and Alive. ● That word echoed in his mind for a split second almost like a revelation before disappearing in soft echoes but he understood and approved. We fight for Life - and we celebrate that we are Alive. Strong emotions then came through the bond amidst swirls of colour and undefined images and he could have sworn it was.. gratitude. Or something similar. A feeling of thankfulness. He knew from his many previous bonds that Aes Sedai could not read minds (though it sometimes did feel like it.. as he and his brother Warders on occasion had observed with lopsided grins well out of earshot of any Sisters) and could not convey messages by use of the mind (something that would have been very handy indeed), but it almost felt like it this time. For whatever reason, this moved him and he felt grateful in truth. We are One. ● ►▲◄ ►▲◄►▲◄ ►▲◄►▲◄►▲◄ ▀ The thought echoed in his mind and he knew that in a way it was true. “Thank you”, he whispered softly, his voice emotional but steady, his dark eyes sparkling as he met her blue gaze. He smiled and she returned the warm smile. Now that they were bonded he could have pointed to her blindfolded if she had moved away off to the side. It was one of the many benefits of a bond. Another was the added strength he would receive from his bondholder in battle. That added strength could in some situations be the very difference between life and death; that he knew well. It would for certain be beneficial in the battle to come. It made him reflect for a moment on the two of them. We each have scars, he considered thoughtfully. We each have memories and sorrows. Some things that will perhaps never heal. That was true. But together, together we are stronger and this bond shall survive. I will not fail again. On my soul so I swear. “We stand ready, my Aes Sedai!” Elessar said finally in a strong voice, giving her hand a squeeze as the silverlight shone down on the two of them. Her eyes sparkled in approval. “And”, he added with a wink, “woe to anyone who stands in our way!” ● As his voice died down, the wind started blowing again, a soft breeze coming to life in the Saldaean night, as the bonded Aes Sedai and Warder remained standing near the two gnarly, old and battered trees, leaning together in unity, brittle but tough, vulnerable but strong, and hardened against the Shadow to the North. ● There was a pulchritudinous poem he had once read, called ‘A Mirror of Emotions’, which spoke of life changes. Of decisions. Of choices. Of Fate. Of Faith. And of New Beginnings. Elessar remembered the words well and they whispered in his mind as he stared silently through the window of his second floor room that night. ● ►▼◄ 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 ►▲◄ ● Echoes of the poem stayed with him as he lay in his bed a little later, too filled with excitement to easily fall asleep. He felt Calia, his new Aes Sedai bondholder, in the neighbouring room - he got the impression through the bond that she was still awake too - and it gave him joy to feel that connection again. For the first time in what felt an Age or so he felt complete. He knew there was much to learn about her, just as there had been much to learn about all his former bondholders, and much for her to learn about him. They each had their scars, they each had their burdens, they each had their histories. There was work before them to share ideas and suggestions, coordinate and synchronise their movements and actions now that they were connected through the bond. And he felt sure they would have to work through some difficult things along the way, that was usually the way of new Warder-Sedai bonds and perhaps even more so in this case. But he was optimistic and hopeful and strong in his belief that they would succeed. The kinship he had felt with her for long and which now was strengthened through the bond gave him confidence. We are One. He smiled looking up at the ceiling - and his dark eyes sparkled joyfully in the darkness of the room. Theirs was a Bond of Faith - and Elessar embraced it to fill his Soul with Light. ▀▄▀▄
  14. .. A Moment of Revelation .. ►▼◄ The sounds of noisy chatter intermingled with the gleeman’s flute playing as Elessar’s eyes swept across the busy Common Room. He was thinking about everything he had shared with Calia and wondered anew if he had said too much. He was also waiting for her to respond. And he was trying to keep hope from flooding his mind. He had for quite a long time harboured a wish to bond an Aes Sedai again, feeling somewhat lessened unbonded, unable to fulfil his duty one hundred percent to the White Tower. He had been uncertain if it would ever happen again. There were many competent young Warders out there, after all, that Sisters might prefer bonding. Now that this Sister of the Green seemed to be offering him a bond, unless he was reading far too much into things, the feeling of hope rose in him and he needed to keep it at bay. He needed to be certain. He sipped anew from his glass of cold water and then his eyes fastened on Calia’s face again. She seemed to study his face for a while before she spoke. ● She told him that there are indeed risks on the path before them, and that that was the only thing any of them could be sure was guaranteed, fighting the Shadow; that and the scars borne by those left behind. Elessar nodded inside, knowing the truth of her words. He imagined he saw recognition in her eyes for a moment before she continued. She added that on that point they undoubtedly agreed - and she thanked him for trusting her with his story and for taking the time to answer the questions she had posed. He saw sincerity in her eyes as she kept her gaze on him and heard it in her voice. “I doubt”, she ended, “that the scars either of us bear will ever fully heal, Elessar.” The Gaidin felt the impact and emotion of those words. Scars felt; scars shared. They are a part of us. He thought. They will always be. He turned away from her and stared into the crowd now close to the stage where the gleeman performed one his jaunty tunes. Many of the local people banged their tables in enthusiasm, spilling beer in the process. No one seemed to care. His mind returned to his own emotional scars, to the burden he always carried deep within. He kept staring at the crowd as she continued talking, but he listened to every word. ● “But I’ll have you know that even in your dark mood, you do not act as damaged goods, nor have I ever considered you so. In fact, right from the moment I met you, you have always done yourself, and your brotherhood, credit in your actions and resolve.” He appreciated her words more than he could say. She told him that she thought he had done a remarkable job keeping himself - and her - alive. Truly, rather than ‘damaged goods’, she said he had proven far more like one of those objects some cultures would repair the cracks of with gold, improving strength and flexibility whilst providing proof that the scars of his past had led to further value. Turning to face her again, he felt that her words moved him. His deficiency, as he often thought of it, with the ‘dark stain’ upon him had made him feel he was lessened and so hearing her speak of it this way warmed his soul. As she spoke on, her voice soft in volume but strong and direct in tone, he listened in silence. He quickly understood that she was conflicted too in many ways, and that she too bore emotional scars. She too was fragile despite her seeming strength. She too had known losses. She too had known a Broken Bond. Several in fact. As he listened to her spoken words, he felt the kinship between them grow. This was very hard for her to speak about, he could see that in her face. But the loss she had experienced echoed in many ways the loss he had experienced. And the guilt she had felt at her Warders’ deaths echoed the guilt he still felt at Leandreen, his Aes Sedai’s death. If they were to bond, it would be with the realization that she would have to live with the fear of his death just as he would have to live with the fear of hers. And potential guilt. And potential great sadness. There was perfect symmetry there, dark perhaps but also very real and very true. When she sat back, looking at her hands in her lap, he closed his eyes, thinking about what she had told him. ● He could understand her conflicting emotions. She had been independent, strong for many years since the death of her last Warder. To bond again for her was not something she could do out of hand. She would need to feel certain - need to feel confident it would be worth it.. again. The episode with the Trolloc had made her think anew. Perhaps she was better off bonded again. But perhaps only with the right Warder? He could not tell. His eyes strayed to the cup of tea before Calia and he thought for a moment he saw swirls inside, almost like an omen. She spoke on and Elessar got the feeling that she too somehow needed to get this off her chest just like he had done with his sharing. We are different in some ways, but also so similar. The thought struck him as he listened to her voice. The feeling of kinship he had felt with his other bondholders was in some ways even stronger since this woman had experienced losses to a greater degree than his former Aes Sedais. Her honesty moved him, her sincerity warmed him as she shared her story. Being connected to one another in a Warder-Sedai bond was something difficult to explain to others. The connection made them very close emotionally, almost functioning like one unit, two separate parts but at the same time united, in purpose and resolve. Elessar had spoken about it with Leandreen and though he was never quite sure of all the benefits Aes Sedai got from a bond, she had nodded agreeing that it was valuable and important. He did not know if it ‘felt’ the same from the Aes Sedai’s end, but he could say for certain that he had never experienced anything like it elsewhere in life. ● When she told him that she had loved her Warders in a stronger way than was perhaps common in a Warder-Sedai partnership, that she had married her Warder and also that the others had been her brothers, he understood that her losses had been even more strongly felt. His bonds had been strong friendships but never anything more than that. Several of his Aes Sedais had been Green and he knew that some Greens married their Warders and/or had them as lovers, but it had never been that way for him. His friendships with his bondholders had been very strong and very valuable, closer than many, but had never been sexual. Leandreen had teased him about it at the beginning of their bond but he had replied honestly that he feared a ‘love-bond’ could interfere with his duty as a Warder, that too strong emotions - of love - could cause distractions and wrong, fateful decisions made in a crisis situation. She had chuckled in response but kindly and had responded that some Warders did indeed share that opinion, while others felt a ‘love-connection’ made them stronger. Deep in his heart Elessar feared he would have gone utterly mad beyond redemption if he had been in love with Leandreen too, not just cared a lot about her, when she died. Calia was silent for a while after she had finished telling about her dead husband and dead brothers. All valiant Warders. Elessar bowed his head almost in homage to the dead. He then watched as Calia sipped from her tea. ● He felt she was going to say more and so he waited with his reply. Soon she met his eyes again and spoke on. “Please forgive my arrogance if I am suddenly too personal, or jumping to the wrong conclusions here, Elessar”, she began. “But now that I have heard your opinion on the bond itself, I would know your true preferences in terms of what you might desire between us, if you will share it? What sort of Aes Sedai would you deem right for you to serve, for example? And now that you’ve heard my reasons for not bonding, could the right sort of Sedai be me?” There it was. His presumption had been right. She was asking him to bond. In a bit of a roundabout way perhaps but even so. He tried to hide the small smile that came upon his lips and waited to see if she wanted to add something more. “I’m sorry I haven’t asked you earlier to be my Warder”, she added, “if that is something you would truly desire, and it is something you feel the benefits are worth being bound to, even ‘til death?" ● She wants to be sure this is something I want. His intuition told him as much; and deductions from what she had told him. They were both strong but vulnerable, they both needed to be certain this was the right course of action for it to work out. That a bond was worth it despite the risks of danger and not the least tears. And potential death. The potential of joy. But with the fear of sadness. Hope blossomed in Elessar’s heart but he kept his face smooth although his dark eyes sparkled a little. Calia spoke on and he listened to her voice, at the same time thinking about what he was going to say in response. She spoke about being happy to have him fighting dutifully by her side and that the doubts she had were not of him but rather of the risks of bonds. She saw sense and advantages in them working together against the Shadow. But she needed first to know what he wanted, for himself. She spoke of her desire to fight the Shadow at every turn but also that she would sometimes take risks if she deemed them necessary. It was important than anyone who fought with her should know that, especially a bonded Warder. And so, she added, she would not ask him to sign his life up to be given away before hers. She could not. She paused for a few moments as Elessar considered her words. He knew that in the fight against the Shadow some risks were always necessary. Calia’s last sentence could be misinterpreted as saying she did not want a bond, but he was pretty certain from everything else she had said that she simply wanted to emphasize that he needed to be absolutely certain if he considered accepting her bond. Also with a view of her previous losses. She feared the guilt she would feel if he died protecting her. He understood that well. But a Warder at her side would make her safer, and all Warders were proud to serve - knowing full well the dangers involved and accepting them. Some Aes Sedai struggled to understand that part, but it was something every Gaidin knew well. It was something every Gaidin lived for. ● Elessar took another long sip from his glass of water. The gleeman was telling a story about a strong-willed southern lass of nobleman’s blood who had run off with the blacksmith’s son and were hunted by her brothers but the Gaidin ignored it. His face was on this Aes Sedai before him, the woman who was in her own way asking him to bond her. Or rather asking him if he wanted to bond her. She told him that he had already done more than enough and that he owed her nothing. She, on the other hand, owed him anything and everything having saved her life. She added that she truly respected him and would be honoured to have him continue to fight by her side. In any capacity he chose. Again it was clear she wanted him to be certain it was what he wanted, and that she would respect his choice. The decision was his. She does not really know what it is I want. He realized that he had not said anything to her to indicate that he desired a bond. He had spoken about the “right Aes Sedai” and had, perhaps, thought she would read between the lines and perhaps she had done so but even so she could not be certain of his intentions. It was therefore natural that she was wording her questions somewhat carefully. He recalled being a little fearful that he was reading too much into things, perhaps she was fearful of reading too much into things too? And could she be certain he had truly meant what he had said about bonds in general with a view to what he had said when under his ‘dark spell’? All these things ran through his mind as he waited to see if Calia was going to say anything more. He looked for the second time at Calia’s tea cup and imagined he saw reflections therein. He saw her staring into her tea as well, almost as if it were a cup filled with revelations. When it became clear that she was finished speaking, Elessar went over in his mind all the things he wanted to say. He had to work to keep his emotions in check, he felt the thrill of hope deep inside, so he cloaked himself in the Flame and the Void just as he had done so many times through the years, feeling detachment and clarity. He was not totally successful though but it calmed him sufficiently. ● He made up his mind how he wanted this to unfold. His gaze met hers and his eyes smiled. “Let’s go out and talk some more”, he said lightly, inviting her to join him as he got up from the table. Calia followed him out, her face not revealing her thoughts. They passed a half-drunk local man of middling years with a scruffy look by the door who bumped into Elessar and muttered under his breath. The Warder gave him a stone-hard look and the man withdrew, seeing the dangerous stare and the power behind it. It was mid-evening and dark outside. A soft wind from the north-west made it seem more chilly than it was. A few lights by the inn brightened the darkness but there was hardly anyone about. Elessar headed down the dusty street past the local blacksmith, a couple of houses with lights in the windows, and a small worn-down shop that seemed about to fall apart. Turning a corner, he walked down a long dusty path only six feet wide with Calia beside him and passing a little-used shed he finally came to a long worn fence beside a couple of old trees with low branches and a few yellow-brown leaves. The silver moon high above was partially hidden by clouds but gave slight light above this part of the village. The Warder stopped, then walked a dozen steps away from her and stood staring at the trees for a long while in silence. The Aes Sedai watched him silently but did not speak. “We are fighting for life.” Elessar said finally over his shoulder, his voice strong. “The fight against the Shadow is a fight for life.” He picked up a fallen twig from the ground and ran it between his fingers. “I remember when I first bonded Leandreen so many years ago”. His voice became thoughtful, filled with memory. “Some mistakenly thought that the Green Ajah, the Battle Ajah, had a Passion for Death since they threw themselves into battle with the minions of the Dark One. I remember Leandreen telling me it was the quite the opposite. The Green Ajah and its Aes Sedai have a Passion for Life. That is why they fight so hard to preserve it.” We stand ready. It was almost a whisper, but Calia heard. “This old tree is not that healthy-looking”, Elessar went on, pointing at the nearest tree, “but it is still life. It is what we all should fight for.” ● Now he turned around and faced Calia. The wind touched his face gently, ruffling his hair. High above in the sky, where the winds were stronger, a black bird of prey floated on the currents as it made its way ever northwards. “Fighting for life has been my life ambition”, he said, his voice softer now. “It was why I joined the Warders to begin with, many, many years ago. And thereby fighting the Shadow, the destroyer of life, and freedom.” He held onto the twig as he spoke. “And I have found that fighting with the Green Ajah is my most effective way of achieving this. As a Warder I will do my duty in any capacity, but it is with the Battle Ajah I have felt most at home.” He placed the twig by the fence and walked up to Calia. He took her hand carefully in his. Meeting her gaze, he spoke softly. “Thank you for sharing your past with me. For honouring me with your kind words and trust. For speaking words that feel true.” “You have not jumped to the wrong conclusions.” His dark eyes smiled again. “I have felt some of that kinship with you that I felt with my former bondholders ever since we first met. The same vision, trust and strength. I respect you and admire your grit and determination. But also the vulnerability that is a part of us both.” Strength paired with fragility. “We have worked well together”, he added, “and I believe together we will stand stronger, safer and conquer the risks and dangers in our battle against the Shadow. There are never any guarantees as you correctly mentioned, that is the way of life in general and especially ours, only honourable duty and service in the Light.” ● “The “right” Aes Sedai”, he said confidently, “stands before me.” He felt his calmness beginning to evaporate despite the Flame and the Void. Emotions were taking him and his eyes sparkled now. “And so”, he added heartfully, “Calia Aes Sedai, I would be honoured if I could serve you as your Warder, dutifully, honourably till death and beyond.” At that very moment the clouds that had partially shadowed the moon departed and the moon’s silver rays shone down on the two of them, pure and strong, as if in approving affirmation. Elessar Telcontar Gaidin let go of her hand and knelt before Calia Luin Aes Sedai, head bowed. “My Life Before Yours.” Closing his eyes reverently. “If you will have me.” ● The wind stopped blowing and the air seemed to go still, as if in a Moment of Revelation. ▀▄
  15. .. A Catharsis: From Tears to Hope .. ►▼◄ “Elessar.” Calia replied, leaning towards him and reaching a hand across the table to cover his briefly. “Thank you for your apology, though I am quite certain there was no disrespect taken or intended – the mood and the rough day was obvious.” She lightened her tone, “Or rather, the rough five days,” she emphasised. “Sincerely,” she held his gaze along with his hand, “I am sorry they struck you down so, and that nothing appeared to help but time. You weren’t wrong, in any case – and you don’t really need to apologise! And... I am here if you care to talk to me a little bit more about what was going in the days afterward?” ● Elessar was silent for quite some time. Calia seemed sincere with her questions but he found that he was not ready to open up about his.. dark spells. He did not know her that well after all and in any case he did not wish to drag up memories of the darkness within him now that he was finally doing better again. But at the same time she seemed to care, seemed to want to listen and a part of him yearned to have someone listen.. He needed a few moments to think and asked the waitress for a glass of water. Calia waited patiently, understanding that he needed some time to collect his thoughts. In the time before the waitress returned Elessar went over in his mind whether to share his story, his guilt.. with this Aes Sedai he had come to like.. or whether to not share his secrets, secrets that were his to keep. It made him think of the many Sedais he had been bonded to ever since Leandreen. And how he had managed to go on, to continue giving dutiful service to the White Tower. He had walked a dark road but a road that had led him back to the light so to speak. He pictured his former bondholders in his mind and could see their smiles, telling him to be open and honest with this Green Sister of the White Tower. He had still not decided what to do when the waitress returned with his drink. She gave him another wink before she left, heading over to serve at another table. Reaching for the glass of water, he took a long sip before putting the glass carefully back on the table. Without thinking, he let his intuition guide him. Calia had seemed trustworthy ever since their first meeting and did seem sincere and ready to listen. He had brushed her off when she had approached him the last time and he would not do so again. ● Meeting her gaze again, he began to speak. “It’s more than a dark mood and a few bad days as such.” As he spoke he realized that he had needed to speak to someone about this. He also felt intuitively that this Green Aes Sedai deserved his trust and would appreciate his opening up. “You have been to war just as I have.” He began, his voice direct. “You have known loss.” She did not reply but he thought he could see it in her eyes. “These losses leave scars.” He was silent for a moment before he went on. “My loss left a dark scar on my soul. My Aes Sedai died.. my Leandreen.. and I was unable to save her.. to my eternal shame.” My life before yours. Elessar closed his eyes for a few seconds, his fists tightening, feeling the echoes of those dark memories deep within him. Then he opened his eyes again and his face became even more serious. “This is personal to me.. and I don’t usually share my story with others.. my pain is mine to deal with.” He took a long sip from his glass of water, then faced her again. “But I want to make amends from the way I acted in our last talk.. and I appreciate that you want to listen.” He could not tell her that he felt that connection, that kinship, with her that he had felt with his former bondholders; that could be thought as presumptuous. But it was true.. and it helped him open up. ● “After Leandreen died and the bond was broken.. in my rage and near-madness I headed for the Blight to avenge her and destroy all Shadowspawn..” - he saw understanding in Calia’s eyes - “but a Yellow Sister came upon me and stopped me in time before killing myself in a “futile attack” as Carrain told me after she had bonded me against my will to keep me alive.” You were right, Carrain. “I survived..” Elessar said, his eyes becoming pensive. “I walked a dark path in myself for a while but with her help - and my service - I gradually found joy and purpose in life again and regained my sanity. And I was able to take my revenge on the Shadow by continuing doing my honourable and important duty as a Warder to the White Tower.” A small smile came upon his face for a fleeting moment, but then his face darkened, his eyes tightening. “However, a dark stain from that piece of shadow I had in me from my near-madness has remained ever since. Carrain, who was an experienced Yellow Sedai healer, was certain it was something psychological, not physical.. that my guilt and shame somehow echoed in my soul, almost like a manifestation of inner pain. She was never able to quite figure it out but she said she had heard of similar cases.” “It re-appears intermittently”, he sighed under his breath, “with no real warning, but thankfully not that often.” “Those are the dark periods as I think of them.. and I had one such when I acted inappropriately towards you the other week.” He paused before adding that the ‘dark patch’ usually lasted 5 or 6 days or so and that he gradually would get back to his good old self during that period. ● Part of him felt he had said too much, but another part was relieved that he had spoken of his inner darkness and guilt to someone. He had not done so since his last Sedai, Myrrhi what felt an age ago. Myrrhi.. you were a good listener too. And understanding. “I am not damaged goods though”, the Kandori Gaidin added with a small grin and a wink. “I do not shut down when the black mood comes upon me, although I do become more reclusive as you may have seen. I have more years of dutiful Warder service left in me.” “The Captain of the Warders understands and knows”, he added sincerely. “He and I have known each other for decades.” He nodded to himself. “But I do carry those emotional scars just like I carry some physical scars from battles with the Shadow.” He held her eyes long and squeezed her hand once. “I don’t usually talk about this with anyone not close to me; not everyone would understand or perhaps approve. But now you know.” ● Some time later she told him that truthfully, she would be dead if it weren’t for him. Her gaze had been intent and he had felt her sincerity anew. He thought she was right; had he not parried that lethal swing of the Trolloc blade, she would not be alive. She added that though she had thanked him afterwards she couldn’t seem to make up her mind on the line between stuff of nightmares and the stuff of dreams. And that when it came to the Aes Sedai-Warder bond, the risks and consequences of connected bondings seemed so impossibly high, on every side.” He noticed that her voice shook ever so slightly and inferred from it that she had experienced losses of the kind he had mentioned. The loss of a Warder in her case, or several. No wonder she had appeared so understanding when he had told his story. His face mirrored his thoughts and he thought she saw the empathy in his eyes. She continued after a moment. She said that she could not argue the logic that bonds end in tears. Or be confident the risks are worth it! Knowing he was unbonded – and at least part of the reason why – she figured he, of all people here, might understand that part of it all, at least… Myhrri, his last bondholder, was also of the Green Ajah and he guessed Calia knew of that previous bond at least. Perhaps she knew more. Both Leandreen and Kathleen had also been Green, Kathleen was still. As Calia paused for a moment, sipping to her own drink, Elessar went over in his mind what she was telling him. He appreciated her honesty and was glad he had been honest and truthful back. He felt that connection again.. but did not wish to read too much into things. Soon the Green Sister continued. ● “But”, Calia went on, “the growing rumours of Shadow rising … our experiences on this trip to date … Now I can’t stop wondering if I haven’t been increasing the risks of failure somewhat? And I've been hoping your understanding and insight might be helpful in discussing various points and balances for and against, if you'd care to share other thoughts?" She paused. "Would you consider a bond again, for example? Given the risks of inevitable darkness and tears?" ● Elessar was silent for another long moment. She is asking me. This was not a theoretical question, a hypothetical situation, wondering about his general thoughts on bonds. She is asking me. She is offering, in a roundabout way. I am sure of it. Excitement built inside him but he tried to let nothing show on his face. In his mind he went over her words time and again, sipping to his drink, wondering if he was misunderstanding her, misinterpreting. But that last question, would he consider a bond again, could not be theoretical, could it? He still did not know for certain if she had a Warder in a bond though he had not seen a Warder with her on their journey north and had come to believe she in fact was unbonded. But he could not say for certain. He had considered asking some of the other Gaidin but had felt awkward doing so and so had let it be. If he was wrong though, presuming things that were not true, he would be making a big fool of himself - and it could embarrass her. And as Leandreen had told him somewhat cheekily and with a wink many years ago, men were not good at reading between the lines as it were. And so he treated her questions with care, not revealing his inner thoughts and thrill. ● “What I said about bonds ending in tears..” He began carefully. “..It was said in my dark mood, that tough week I told you about. All I could think about then was Leandreen and how that did end in tears.” He paused momentarily, his eyes holding hers. “Of course there are risks, we are fighting the Shadow after all. And never any guarantees.” His voice was steady. “But if I had not believed in the bond, that special connection between Aes Sedai and Warder and the many benefits therein, I would not willingly have entered my many bonds over the years.” “I have been privileged to have been a bonded Gaidin to 5 Aes Sedai through the years”, he continued - “and each bond has given me valuable friendship as well as added strength, purpose, and the other benefits that come with the bond.” “The bond has given me greater opportunity to fufil my duty as a Warder in the Light” - his dark eyes sparkled for a moment - “and has lessened the risk of danger for both me and my Aes Sedais.” He looked at her squarely. “And so in my opinion its worth conquers the risk and danger.” He paused meaningfully, and then added softly. “And tears.” ● “And so the answer to your question is..” Elessar said, his voice confident now, “..Yes, I would consider a bond again.. more than that, I would want and appreciate one.. if it was to the right Aes Sedai.” He took a long sip from his drink of water, carefully avoiding her face. Hope could be a dangerous thing. It could easily be smashed to smithereens. A pair of familiar emerald green eyes flashed in his mind - but this time they smiled. ▀▄
  16. .. The Shadows of Sapphire .. ►▼◄ Prologue The white marble walls flickered in that slightly off-hand fashion they always did in this place, almost as if with a slight tremor like an echo of reality, an echo of what was, what is and what would be. Slivers of light from the sun streamed through the windows and touched the marble with a feather-light touch as if caressing it for the first time. The tall blond-haired woman gazed at the marble columns that filled the large hall with distinct disinterest. Her long hair, a pale golden shade, framed a beautiful face of pre-middling years. She had a fair complexion, piercing sapphire-blue eyes, a perfectly-shaped nose, and high cheekbones. A small scar on her left cheek marred what otherwise would have been stunning beauty. She had left it there as a reminder that some risks were not worth taking. She pursed her lips and considered her dilemma another time. Did she really have a choice? Touching her beautiful, long blue-green dress delicately (it was a snug fit at the top, perfectly suited to enhance her striking figure, while the bottom part made it look as if she floated when she walked across a hall; the leather detail on the corset rising up from the waistband gave her a regal appearance), savouring the feel of silk beneath her fingers, her sharp blue eyes drew together shrewdly. I must stick to my plan. Her gaze moved to the shimmering windows. They flickered in tune with a small, near imperceptible hum which often permeated this place. She ignored them as her thoughts travelled again. She is out there somewhere. Will she interfere with my plans? Her mouth tightened angrily thinking about her. She better not! ● Moving gracefully through the otherwise empty hall she arrived at a pair of tall old oak doors. They were heavily decorated with insignias and symbols that were hardly readable but the blond-haired woman knew what they meant. Pushing the partially flickering doors open she entered a smaller chamber. There were historical paintings on the walls, depictions of wars in bygone eras, some smaller marble statues in the corners and an ornate table with six chairs in the middle of the room. On the table was a strange-looking vase filled with flowers. Red and white and yellow they were but they shimmered in and out of existence every few seconds almost as if they did not wish to be present. She was used to this too and hardly lifted an eyebrow as she sat herself in one of the ornate high-backed chairs. A goblet of wine and four wine glasses stood on a smaller table near one wall and she poured herself a drink and sat sipping it in silence as the minutes passed by. Shadows appeared and disappeared around her, like whispers in a dream, momentarily touching this world before returning from wherever they had come. One of the shadows, more substantial than the others, lingered for a while and the sound of a whimper broke the silence of this distant place as the shadow gradually took on the form of a sleeping man. Flickering in and out of existence it hovered before the blue-green dressed woman as she studied the form with a twisted grin on her face. Putting the wine glass easily to the side, a gleeful look in her blue eyes, she made motions in the air, combining flows of Saidar just so, and reached into the shadow and pulled the sleeping man fully into Tel'aran'rhiod. He screamed horrifyingly, still in his terrible nightmare, as his eyes opened and widened as he saw the beautiful but merciless and wicked-looking woman’s face before him. She chuckled wickedly as she saw the terror in his eyes, relishing what she was about to do. Throwing him forcefully to the marble floor she stared at him like she would stare at an irritable bug. Something or someone to be crushed. He had interfered with her plans for the last time. “Rhanag, I warned you to stay away from the Cehra.” Her voice was calm but cold as death. “I told you what would happen if you tried to touch it. I warned you.” “Didn’t I warn you!?” Her voice was without mercy, her blue eyes shooting daggers. He began to stutter a reply, tears of fear running down his old and worn face, but she cut him off like the slice of a knife. “The Great Lord will have your soul!” ● It was her final words as she threw him against the wall using the One Power, breaking his back. He slid down to the marble floor, his screams of pain reverberating around the chamber. She laughed, enjoying his pain. She severed his right arm with a flow of Saidar and his screams increased. Blood flowed on the floor and she smiled wickedly at the sight. No mercy indeed, just as she had warned him. Getting up from her chair, she stared without pity at the dying man. Unable to stop herself, she knelt before him and stretched out her hand, Saidar flowing through her veins in a wonderful fashion, and reached into him and pulled out his heart. Holding it up before his eyes in the few seconds it took him to die, her blue eyes sparkled with evil delight. That is the price of disobedience. His eyes closed for the last time as all life left him. His dead body would be found in a pool of blood in his bed in the real world, his heart missing, his body crushed, with no one the wiser. Placing the blood-dripping heart in a jar, cleaning the blood from her hands with water from the vase, she stared for a long time at the body. At times she did think she should give up such messiness, at times she had also been advised to, but she had always enjoyed giving extreme physical pain, it gave her special joy, a thrill that engulfed her soul. Killing someone with the One Power was less satisfying. She had always thought so. ● That made her think of Samos. He had brought her the Cehra and that was the only reason she had not killed him. He had been a huge disappointment to her since she had recruited him to the Shadow. His mistakes had been costly, his efforts poor. However, he would get this final chance at redemption since he had brought her the rare Ter’angreal. Reaching into a dress pocket she brought forth the object. A crystal triangle-shaped artifact, cold to the touch, it was very old indeed - and rare. Very rare. Few channelers outside of the Amyrlin Seat and perhaps a handful Sisters of the White Tower knew its full power, but she did. Her smile widened in triumph. This object would open doors; that she knew. ‘Doors’ that many would want to stay unopened. Oh yes! Returning the valuable object to her dress pocket she sat down at the table again and finished her red wine. She ignored the shadows that appeared intermittently, her mind on her next task. None knew the World of Dreams, the Unseen World - a reflection within a reflection, a mirror in time - as well as she did, of that she was pretty certain. And she would use that advantage - and the infinite possibilities - in her pursuit of glory. For the Great Lord, of course. But just as much For herself. Running her limb fingers through her long blond hair, enjoying the soft feel and vitality, and touching reverently the pale emerald earrings, very special to her, that matched her dress delectably, she considered her options. ● The slivers of light that came through the flickering windows gave off no warmth. Not that she really cared. The marble columns kept glittering where the light touched, dancing in the light as the air thickened and lessened in an endless circle of motion. Her eyes brightened and shone like Shadows of Sapphire as she drew upon and bathed in the ecstasy of Saidar; a sun burning within her, a sun she never wanted to quench. Her powerful ring-Angreal, the ancient one that had the form of a small green rose and which she had had for a very long time, embraced her left ring finger and she looked at it lovingly. A crystal necklace adorned her swan-like neck. It too was a rare object of power. It too was something she treasured mightily. She was a Power to be reckoned with; that she knew with absolute certainty. Something those women who called themselves Aes Sedai would soon learn. Touching her face, her delicate fair skin, the cheekbones that heightened her beauty, her smile widened. She had been known by many names in many places, but the one she had taken for herself pleased her the most: Nymeria ● Chapter As Elessar dropped into his bedroll, needing to rest his mind and body both, he felt shadows without and within. He knew that gloom surrounded him now as he was in his black mood and that Calia had probably observed the shadow which had passed over his visage, and stayed there. I should not have replied so bitterly. He closed his eyes to the night but the darkness pressed down on him. I should have responded politely, respectfully. But he knew that his emotions were too strong when this massive guilt came upon him like an avalanche, and that he was not able to keep his dark feelings at bay. He hated himself for it, he hated the dark spells which had come upon him intermittently ever since Leandreen’s death and his near-madness.. but they were a part of him, a dark stain on his soul. Biting his lip he hoped he would feel better in the morning, knowing fully well he would not and that it would take some days before he would get over this black period. It was always so. Always. He lay for a long time with dark whispers echoing in the back of his head, threads of guilt brushing against his consciousness, but when he finally fell asleep it was - thankfully - a restful and dreamless sleep. ● He kept much to himself in the days that followed, carrying out his duties proficiently, but anyone who knew him saw the pain in his eyes, the heaviness in his shoulders, the added weight in his step. A couple Warders tried to engage him in conversation when the party from Tar Valon rested along the wayside but he politely told them that he was tired and moved off to care for his warhorse, Stormbreaker. A few Sisters also looked with concern at him at times but did not approach him. Calia was one of these but he pretended not to see her. He had not spoken to her since that evening and knew it was best to wait at least until he was done with this dark spell. As the days passed he began to feel more himself again, the black frame of mind gradually diminishing, and his thoughts turned to more positive matters. The other members of the party saw his improved mood and nodded contentedly, pleased. As his mood lightened Elessar began to think back on what Calia had asked and knew that her question of Warder-Sedai bonds was one which deserved a better answer. Because even though many bonds did indeed ‘end in tears’ as he had uttered, the journey bonded with an Aes Sedai made all the difference and made a Warder able to carry out his duty in the best possible manner. He missed the bond, missed that special connection with a Sister which had served him well for so many years, a connection which was very valuable despite the risk of a sad ending. He was unable to see it like that when he was depressed, the guilt crushing him, but now as light gathered in his soul again he knew what he felt deep inside, and knew what he wished for. It was five days or so later, on an early afternoon under a cloud-free blue sky filled with sunshine, as the party crossed the border into north-eastern Saldaea, that he felt the last echoes of shadows leave him. He sighed in relief. Like every time before he hoped this would be the last time. Like every time before he knew it would not be. But at least there was every chance he would be fine for a long while. One of the other Warders a little ahead turned in his saddle and saw him smiling - and waved. Elessar grinned back, knowing that smiles were rare on him even at the best of times. He had always been the serious stoic type, focused on the job and on excelling at his tasks. Whenever he was reading a good poem or an old story, however, others could see the hints of a smile on his face. And a glint in his dark eyes. He would never tire of old stories. ● They reached the small Saldaean village of Renajhar late one afternoon. The village consisted mostly of a main road, a couple dozen houses, a blacksmith, a few local shops and an inn. The road leading into the village was dusty and hard and the few villagers that were about seemed much the same. A cold breeze was reaching out from the direction of the Blight, making their travelling cloaks ripple in the wind, and the party quickly dismounted and led their horses to the stables behind the inn. One of the Warders had ridden ahead and acquired enough rooms; single rooms for the Sisters while two and two Warders shared a room. And they soon found their rooms - guided by a fat Saldaean innkeeper who wore a fake smile and feigned humility - most on the second floor, and placed their saddle bags and belongings in wardrobes and on shelves. They were to meet down in the Common Room for supper a little later and Elessar, who shared a room with one of his Brother Warders, removed his travelling cloak and boots and then lay down reading in his poetry-book (which he always brought on long journeys) until it was time to go downstairs. Moving down the stairs he shared a few words with the other Warder but it was mostly chit-chat since they did not know each other well. His mind was on Calia and he wondered if he would have the opportunity to talk to her again. If she wanted to talk, that is, after how he had brushed her off the last time. The thought brought a frown on his face but he brightened when he saw the whole party seated in the Common Room ready for a well-earned meal. Seating himself near one end, he exchanged a quick glance with Calia who sat at the other end but he could not read anything in her eyes. Aes Sedai-smooth her face was, but at least not hostile. He took that as a good sign. When the meal arrived a little later, spiced meat with potatoes and gravy and a few vegetables, he tucked in with the others. He enjoyed an ale with the food but made sure it was just the one; they were on a mission and needed to be alert at all times. The serving girl, a voluptuous local brunette with large dark oval eyes and a pretty smile, sent him teasing smiles whenever she served him and he found himself grinning inside which was a good indicator that his good mood was returning. ● After the meal, they sat talking at the back while a gleeman played on a flute on a small stage at the other end of the room. Elessar glimpsed Calia at a small table fifteen feet or so away talking to another Sister. He did not want to interrupt but he felt more and more that he needed to apologize for his behaviour that night. And so when the other Aes Sedai moved to another table, Elessar grabbed the opportunity. Coming up to Calia he gave a Warder’s bow and met her eyes squarely. “May I sit down?” He asked humbly and she nodded with the hint of a smile. Elessar sat down across from her and waited a moment before speaking. The crowd were merry at the other side of the Common Room, enjoying the jaunty melody the gleeman was playing, but the Gaidin’s attention was all on this Aes Sedai. He measured his words. “I want to apologize for brushing you off the other night”. He tried to hide the shame he felt at how he had acted but was uncertain how successful he was. “It was disrespectful.” He looked down at the table for a moment before continuing. “I was.. in a dark mood. It was a bad day”. His face looked apologetic. “I am sorry.” ● The Sh'boan’s dark eyes widened in disbelief as the dagger plunged into her chest. She screamed in terror and pain, her arms flailing about her, as the shadow which had suddenly appeared pressed the dagger ever deeper. Her bedsheet was colouring red and her whole world was one of confusion and agony. In the few moments before death took her, she wondered about this strange matter. It was all impossible. IMPOSSIBLE!! The pain increased and she screamed and screamed but no one heard her. Her nightshift became bloodied as she kicked out with her legs in desperation, but it was too late. A final spasm, the last tremor, and then the light of the world left her dark eyes. She fell into the embrace of Death. ● The middle aged man looked down on the corpse of the former Sharan ruler but felt nothing. He was a paid assassin and he had completed his task. Who he killed and why mattered not. All that mattered was that he was successful; that he carried out his honour-bound duty. Removing the bloodied dagger from the woman’s body, he placed it in a light bag that he carried and then swiftly departed. Walking on soft feet through the Sharan ruler’s bedroom toward the door he listened for any sounds outside. All was quiet and he nodded to himself. With a last look over his shoulder he opened the door, went out and closed it quietly behind him. On his way out of the palace he kept to the shadows as he crept along the wall surrounding the building. Some guards on patrol passed him by but did not see him in the darkness as they continued their night rounds. When he reached the gate, he snuck past the two guards there who were half-asleep on duty and continued into the city proper. Soon he was lost among the buildings in the night, the echo of his passage disappearing with the western wind. ● Far away, further south and east in Shara, staring up at the same night sky, the false Amo’hra, leader of the Ayyad, grinned broadly. The task would now have been done, she was certain of it. The dead Sh'boan would be discovered the following morning and the whole nation would be in an uproar. This suited her very well. The more disruption the better; the more chaos the better. It was what the Great Lord wanted. Oh, she could have killed the woman herself. And she had considered it. But it was better to use an assassin. That way nothing would lead back to her. The assassin’s guild was famous for its discretion. Its members felt no loyalty to the nation and would not reveal their employer even if faced with death. It was a matter of honour to them. A matter of pride. The secret was safe. The Amo’hra’s dark eyes glittered in the night. ● It was late evening and Darkness had fallen over the Cordamora Palace in Maradon. Most people were asleep at this late hour - but not everyone. Arihna Gharam, the royal advisor to the Queen, shrugged. Her dress was made of fine materials, a pale emerald colour with silver threads on the shoulders and sides, and she wore an emerald neckless to match. She was nowhere near as finely dressed as the Queen of Saldaea, though. It would not be proper. “He disobeyed your order.” Her eyes tightened, her hand touching the necklace affectionately. “It is treason, no question about it.” The Queen looked at her advisor and shook her head softly. “I agree, he deserves punishment, but he does not deserve death.” An old military commander in the Northern Legion, a much-respected grey-haired soldier of many years called Argial Gadhere, had on his own initiative marched several platoons eastward to face some “enemy”, or so he had claimed. Against her orders!! She had been shocked by this disobedience, this betrayal. The commander had been apprehended (her soldier-spies in camp had arrested him, not without difficulty as it turned out since some of his officers had been loyal to him) and the platoons sent back - and Arihna had pushed for the harshest penalty ever since. Seeing Arihna begin to complain, recognizing that facial expression, the Queen added swiftly, “He will be dealt with harshly, do not fear.” ● Her voice betrayed some misgivings. Part of her felt Arihna was right; this traitor deserved death. Who was he to move part of her forces when there was no need!? The feeling grew as she sat in silence, feeling her advisor restless at her shoulder. Perhaps she was wrong, after all? Perhaps she had been wrong the whole time - and Arihna right? The throne room was empty but for the two of them. Candle lights lit up the chamber, dozens of them illuminating the decorated walls, ancient paintings and marble sculptures that adorned this exquisite hall. Staring at the shining lights dancing on the walls - were they really dancing?? - touching her forehead in slight confusion, then fingering the sleeves of her regal robe made of the finest silk and coloured gold and black, the Queen of Saldaea suddenly felt very alone. Half-turning to her faithful advisor at last, several long moments later, feeling more relaxed now, more sure of herself, she nodded. “You were right all along, Arihna. He will face the penalty for treason. And that is death.” At her shoulder, Qariahna, in the guise of the royal advisor, smiled wickedly when the Queen did not see, releasing the weaves of Compulsion. A little nudge was all that was needed. And this execution would set an example. No more Saldaean troops would be sent eastwards towards the Plain of Lances. ● Samos shivered when he thought back on the night when she had come. Just as on the previous occasions she had suddenly appeared, her whole figure shimmering in multiple colours at the same time so it was impossible for him to make out any details and nothing of her features. He had had no doubt it was her, however. That voice, female but twisted in a way, with the hint of echoes lingering, was definitely hers. He had given her the object as he had been ordered but instead of appreciation she had told him that she was hugely disappointed in him and that he would suffer if he failed her again. Pain had erupted in his arms and back and he had fallen onto the floor screaming. She had chuckled when his nose started bleeding and had not stopped before he was almost unconscious. When she left she told him that the only reason he was left to live was because he had delivered the object she wanted. He better remember that! There was anger in him for being treated in this despicable way, a lot of pent-up anger and frustration, also because he knew there was nothing he could do about it. And so he channeled his anger at a young red-haired big-breasted prostitute he was having his way with that evening in his room at the Cairhienin inn. She screamed in pain, near hysterical as he beat her almost senseless. At the last he let up, realizing in his rage, his near-madness that it was not a good idea to kill the girl and bring untoward attention to himself. Carrying the whimpering, half-unconscious girl down the stairs and past the near-sleeping innkeeper, cursing to himself all the while, Samos dumped her in the street at the next corner before returning to his room. The girl’s bloodied face and tears were reflected in the streams of rain that flowed down the street. Samos had new orders and he would carry them out faithfully. He dared not cross the Great Lord. Or her. But perhaps this time his valuable work would be appreciated! ● Later that evening the gleeman - a blond-haired blue-eyed gangly man in his early twenties who smiled a lot despite several crooked teeth - informed his enthusiastic audience that he was going to sing an old and epic song of war and history. Elessar’s attention grew - and as the gleeman began singing the Warder moved quietly closer to the stage, intent on soaking in every word. It was the Ballad of ‘The War of the Hundred Years’, a historic poem Elessar knew well but always enjoyed seeing performed. The gleeman’s captivating tenor voice caught most of those present in its tight grip and took them on a mesmerizing journey into the past.. ● ►▼◄ Ballad of ‘The War of the Hundred Years’ Remember the Days of War and of Strife After Hawkwing the High King lost his Life When Brother fought Brother for Power, for Land As Blood flowed in Rivers, on Meadows, in Sand The Empire Collapsed with no designated Heir Fragmented, Torn apart, more than one could Bare The Disorder and Conflict brought Tears and Stares It was named ‘The War of the Hundred Years’ Plotting and Scheming arose in the Lands Positions and Wealth swiftly changed Hands The Stone of Tear was taken by Force In Andor Ishara seized Throne at its Source In the Swirls of Chaos, the White Tower’s Attempt To end the Conflicts, civil Wars that had Rent Met with no Success, despite years of Toil As the Troubles escalated, with Bloodied Soil On the Steps of Tar Valon heavy Storms Raged As Hawkwing’s Army a grand Siege Staged Then General Maravaile the Shining Walls Freed When the Amyrlin Seat and Queen Ishara Agreed In the Borderland Provinces Five Governors Met To discuss the Situation, new Borders to Set Proclaimed their free Nations, as Kings and Queens And pledged an Alliance, a Pact strong at Seams Cairhien was conquered by Deftness and Strength By Nobles and Lords, using subterfuge at Length In Tanchico the Kingdom of Tarabon Arose As History was Made, in Stories and in Prose Twenty-Four Nations from the Embers were Born After a Century of Conflict with the Continent Torn Few remnants of Hawkwing’s Empire were Left His Statues and Monuments by changing Winds Swept Remember the Days of War and of Gloom When Hawkwing’s Empire fell to its Doom Remember the Nations that rose to the Light Reborn from the Ashes of Struggle and Fight ►▲◄ ▀▄
  17. .. Enfolded by Shadows of Guilt .. ►▼◄ My life before yours. Leandreen! I will save you. I will. You can trust me. Trust… Why are you bleeding, my Sedai? Why!? ● Oh no…… NOOOO!! Tears running like a river. Gone. Gone forever. ● I am standing by the burning funeral pyre lighting up the darkness. She is so regal laying there, her emerald green eyes closed, her fiery red hair embracing her familiar face. She is calm, oh so calm.. ready for the final journey. So peaceful. Flames of orange stream upwards into the blackness of the night. I stare at her face.. that beautiful face.. all the familiar features. The closed eyes. Somehow the flames do not touch her face. They stay away. In reverence. ● As I watch, almost in a trance, time suddenly.. ..stops. Only light shadows move in the background, as if clinging to life. As if reaching out.. Then her eyes open and she stares deep into mine. You betrayed me, Elessar! ● The shadows reach for me.. Her mouth has not opened but I can hear the words in my mind. You failed me, my Gaidin! My soul darkens and I am unable to breathe. Failed. Failed. The shadows touch my heart, burrowing inwards.. ● I want to speak but cannot. Her emerald eyes are damning! Finally I am able to stutter.. “Forgive me, Leandreen. Please!!” But in her emerald eyes there is no forgiveness. Only blame. Slowly.. .. time starts again.. and the flames burn anew. Streams of red light pushing against the darkness. And then.. ..with my final breath I cry in anguish.. .. a soulless cry.. ..an eternal cry.. I am lost. ..and then only unending darkness. ● Elessar crashed out of his nightmare and sat upright in his bedroll, his dark eyes wide open, his breath ragged. Raising his eyes to the night sky, he gradually calmed himself using breathing techniques he had learned as a young Warder. A question kept running in his head though. Why now!? He had not had his nightmares for ages. They were endless variations on what had been or what could have been, part true, part false, part fantasy but always painful. The dark wound upon his soul would never totally go away, he knew that all too well, but he had managed to keep that darkness inside him locked away for a long time. Why should it re-surface now!? Unclenching his fists, he laid his head down again on the bedroll and closed his eyes. As always when he had his dark spells he felt loss.. and shame in his soul for his failure. The forgiveness he would never get. The forgiveness he could never give himself. When he finally entered a dreamless sleep, much much later, as a soft western wind caressed his back with a mother’s caring touch, he was unaware of the silent tear that ran down his left cheek. ● The Shadow army was assembled in a valley north-east of the Saldaean village of Sirah. The Plain of Lances was close by - and the fists of Trollocs were getting restless. They had been promised their fair share of human flesh and though they had feasted on their journey north in Saldaea, moving from their original base further south, they were far from sated. They wanted blood - and they wanted it now. The Myrddraal in charge of this army sat silently atop his dark horse, staring down from an elevation at the Trollocs who waited restlessly further down in the valley. His Eyeless face was impassionate, his black armour with overlapping scales immaculate. His black cloak would stir in no wind; his dark sword would cleave many a soldier. He waited for the enemy to appear. Soon now. Blood awaits. ● Ersehna Egadharu, High Lady of House Irahmasu, one of the Noble Houses of Chachin, dried her tears and tried to compose herself. Looking at herself in the bedroom mirror she felt she had aged in the week or so since her daughter’s tragic death. Her long brown hair was unkempt and her face looked drawn and tired. She looked thinner than usual in her night dress. Her brown, oval eyes were sorrowful. I look a mess, she thought studying her own reflection in the mirror. She was still devastated by the sudden death of her beloved daughter and her soul cried out in pain. Her daughter had willingly joined the Kandori army that had gone to defend the western part of their homeland from the insurgencies by the Shadow, but the High Lady had thought she would be safe at the back of the army, somehow shielded from the main fighting. Alas, it had not been so. The High Lady had avoided her husband in the past days, she just could not face his shared pain. She needed to be on her own to try to come to terms with the fact that her eighteen year old daughter Aramura would never again throw her arms around her in great affection and smile lovingly at her. She felt pain and also anger that this could happen. She should have stopped her daughter! But she knew in her heart that when Aramura made up her mind on something she could not be stopped. They had been proud when she had joined the army but also, deep inside, fearful. All Borderlanders were proud to stand against the Shadow but it was most often the sons who went to war. Not always though. Not always. Her mind filled with guilt but also confused thoughts she removed her night dress and undergarments and threw them on the bed behind her. ● She stared at her naked body in the mirror, wishing she were fifteen years younger, her breasts firmer, her tummy smoother. Her fingers traced a line between her breasts going downwards to her dark patch, wondering not for the first time if her husband, the High Lord, truly found her desirable anymore. Their love-making did not seem to give him any thrills, they were just going through the motions as it were. She loved him, but she had begun to doubt if she could satisfy him the way he deserved. Perhaps she should consider giving him a consort like some other Nobles apparently did in some Houses, or so she had heard. But no, she disregarded the thought as quickly as it had come. She shifted her gaze upwards again - and her heart almost stopped! as she suddenly saw the image of a man’s face - a blond-haired, blue-eyed attractive but very unfamiliar man with a leering lustful smile - reflected in the mirror behind her. The High Lady screamed in shock! Her eyes grew wide in disbelief when she turned quickly, covering herself with her hands, and saw no one else in the bedroom with her. She was agape as she faced the mirror again and saw that she had not imagined it.. the male face was still there, grinning lewdly, eyes indecently fixed on her naked body. Her breath came in short gasps, fear and disbelief enveloping her! When the man stepped out of the mirror, his body moving through the glass as if it were simply air, hands outstretched ready to grab her, her mind could not take it anymore and she fainted! ● Samos knelt beside the marble statue of a woman whose stance was almost visionary in the center of the city of Cairhien, keeping to the shadow even though darkness filled the night. He was to meet someone here soon or so he had been told. Personally he would rather have begun the hunt for his would-be assassin but he knew better than to disobey orders.. from her. And so he waited as the minutes passed by, the streets of the city mostly empty of people at this late hour. A soft wind from the south-west brushed his face, leaving an echo of the chill in the air, but he hardly noticed, so focused was he on the darkness cloaking the square. The inns situated a little further away were still busy and the sound of people singing and laughing and drinking merrily drifted on the wind like wisps of smoke. They hardly registered in his mind, but then of a sudden a more distinct sound made him turn his face toward the benches a little further to the side. He scrutinized the bench and the nearby area for several long moments but saw nothing. Turning back he was just about to sweep his gaze over the whole square another time when a dark shadow detached itself from the shadows around. Gasping in surprise, Samos did not have time to speak before the shadow handed him a pouch and was gone in the next instant. He could not believe how the person, for it surely must have been a person, could have disappeared so quickly, but he was gone. The square was empty again as if the deliverer had never been there. Shaking his head in puzzlement, Samos tucked the pouch inside his coat pocket and got to his feet. Still seeing no one about he strode across the square to its north-eastern corner and, without further ado, headed down the adjacent street. It was only when he was safely behind the door to his rented room at one of the city’s less fashionable inns that he dared to open the pouch he had been given. Inside was an artifact that he had been told had been procured from the White Tower. It was a crystal triangle-shaped object which he had never seen the like of before. He did not know what it was or what it did. Only that it was important. It had to be important. What mattered though was that he now had it, and could deliver it.. to her. Had he possessed the knowledge, he would have known that it was an object of the One Power. A rare Ter'angreal. ● Twilight passed over the Cordamora Palace in Maradon, the capital of Saldaea. The home of the Queen of Saldaea was quiet this early evening as a few servants went to an fro in the Saldaean Queen’s Royal Hall. The faithful royal advisor, Arihna Gharam, a southern woman of middling years with blond hair, blue eyes and a handsome if not beautiful face, whispered in the Queen’s ear whenever one of the military commanders asked for more troops. The Queen felt relaxed in Arihna’s presence and appreciated her sound advice. Now that the previous Aes Sedai advisor was no more - what happened to her again!? (she could not quite remember) - it was even more important to have such sound advice. Were it not for Arihna, she would have been foolish enough to have sent several military legions to the south and the east to fight supposed Shadowspawn armies. The Shadow had tried for generations to diminish the Saldaean forces but had never succeeded as everyone knew. Why play on a danger which was not there? Why divide her forces? It was good to have Arihna around when those meddlesome military commanders came with their foolish demands. It was good to have someone on her side for once. ● “Thank you, Arihna” the Queen said with an endearing smile when she concluded the day’s business, watching the other woman depart the Hall and feeling an almost unexplained loss when she was gone. Arihna walked steadily down the corridor, passing a couple of servants who bowed deferentially to her, and finally opened the door to her private chamber. Closing the door behind her she smiled smugly to herself and sat down on a chair before a huge decorated mirror. The mirror sat on an old wooden cabinet with several compartments. Opening the largest compartment, it appeared empty at first glance but when she moved her hands across the empty space, combining the weaves just so, a dark jewellery box came into view. Inside were several golden earrings, a necklace of blue crystal, and a purple hairpin which was a little thicker than usual but otherwise would not have looked anything special to an observer. It was, in fact, a powerful Angreal which she had had in her possession for a very long time. Caressing it lovingly, her eyes glinting, she placed it in her hair and stared at her own reflection in the mirror. She grinned widely. For several reasons in fact. The Sister whose face and looks she had ‘borrowed’ as it were lay buried several miles to the south, her one hundred and ninety year old body broken, her Gray shawl stuffed down her bloody throat. Let her mediate on that! she had thought amusedly to herself, glorying in the kill, when she had left the hidden grave behind. ● Drawing on Saidar, weaving the threads of Illusion, or the Mirror of Mists as it was called in this day and age, her face slowly, gradually changed back into that of a very different woman. The long black hair and dark eyes embraced a stunningly beautiful face. A face that spoke of command. A face that radiated ambition. Qariahna liked what she saw in the mirror. She liked it very much indeed. ● Her given task was progressing nicely; Saldaea was almost neutralized. Advising the Queen was easy, and the subtle weaves of Compulsion that she added to her whispers of advice made sure the Saldaean Monarch made the right decisions. Saldaea was there for the taking. The Great Lord would be pleased. Qariahna’s dark smile widened in triumph. ● Late the following evening he saw Calia approach him as he was going through the forms. He had seen her and some Aes Sedai, as well as a few Warders, train on the other side of the encampment but had paid them little mind. He was not in a mood to talk to her, or to anyone for that matter, but tried, rather unsuccessfully, to shrug off the feeling. "Will you spar with me, Gaidin?" Calia asked when she found him. And directly after, blue eyes locked onto his dark gaze: "Tell me your current opinions on the Warder-Sedai bond?" At another time, on another day her question would have sparked enthusiasm in him. Interest and, perhaps, also hope. On this day, however, Elessar was in a dark mood, Leandreen’s emerald eyes filled with blame echoing in the back of his mind, overshadowing all his other feelings. He was unable to suppress the guilt in him. He was unable to let light into his soul. ● The emerald eyes pressed down on him in judgement. “Not today, Aes Sedai” he said quietly, sheathing his sword, his face tightening, his hands clenching. “Some other day perhaps.” A shadow passed over his eyes. “And as for Warder-Sedai bonds..” he added in a stronger voice after a long moment, his eyes dark, hard and unyielding, “..they always end in tears.” With those damning words, swallowing his bitterness, he gave Calia a respectful Warder’s bow and then walked resolutely away, back toward his bedroll, never looking back, his shadows gripping him tightly, mirroring the blackness without. ▀▄
  18. .. Amidst the Flames of Shayol Ghul .. ►▼◄ Qariahna walked silently onto the black slopes of Shayol Ghul. Above, dark clouds almost hid the sky, hiding the mountain’s peak. Staring momentarily upwards, the cold beautiful face of this dark-haired woman was struck by a feeling of awe. Thunder rolled and flashes of lightning came in several directions in the barren valley, up as well as down, and the slopes were near-cloaked by soft mists. Releasing the One Power immediately, she shifted her eyes to the opening in the rocks some way off to her right. As always was the case when she let go of Saidar, she felt.. diminished, hollow.. as if part of her was lost. The sweetness of Saidar made life worth living, all senses heightened; she wanted to be surrounded by its wonderful embrace at all times.. but here it was too dangerous. To even think of embracing the One Power so close to the Great Lord would be to embrace Death itself. In an Age long ago this place had been an idyllic island in a cool sea, far from the bitter cold and desolate place it had become. Pushing her dark cloak tightly around her body, focusing on the business at hand, she walked toward the opening. She needed her wits about her when summoned to the Great Lord. And summoned she had been. Tiny shivers ran down her spine, part excitement, part dread. Few things in life frightened her - her heart had become one of stone on the day she betrayed the Light and turned to the Shadow - but the summoning gave her a feeling of dread. ● As she came closer to the mountain she saw that two Myrddraal stood guard, one on either side of the rock entrance. They wore black armour with overlapping scales and they did not acknowledge her, nor give any indication of her existence, their eyeless faces directed impassively outwards, as she stepped between them and went inside. There was space for four people to walk abreast through the opening and once inside the path slanted gradually downwards, the tunnel floor marked by the passage of feet over time. As she walked she felt the coldness from above slowly diminish and after a while it was replaced by warmth and heat coming from ahead. A dim light shone from crystals and minerals in the walls but Qariahna paid them no mind as she followed the downward-sloping corridor. As she neared her destination, the heat increased and jagged spikes hung down from the ceiling like pillars of warning, giving the impression that one was walking into a dangerous predator’s forbidden lair. The tunnel opened at last onto a wide ledge which stood above a lake of molten stone with dancing flames. Upward there was only a great hole that reached up the mountain into.. elsewhere .. This was the Pit of Doom. ● She felt just as much awe as her first visit long ago when she had pledged her soul to the Shadow and taken the unbreakable Oath. Here she sensed the Bore, the hole that had been drilled through to the Great Lord’s prison all those many years ago. Here she felt the Great Lord’s closeness to the world and beads of sweat now ran down her forehead and chin, and it was not only from the heat. There was a soft hum in the air but she could not pin point where it came from. It was part of the place, she thought. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. Time was meaningless here and she could not tell how long she had stood there when suddenly the air around her.. shifted. It was the only way she could think of it. There was no wind here and nothing different in what she could see with her eyes, or hear but her senses felt.. something. Her eyes widened, goosebumps running down both her arms, her stomach clenched and her mouth became as dry as dust.. QARIAHNA ● Pain and ecstasy co-mingled in her brain and it was like an explosion of awareness and emotion as the voice crashed through her head like an avalanche. Every single hair on her body now stood on end and she did not know whether to shout endlessly in exultation or scream in horror. ARE YOU LOYAL, QARIAHNA With the almost cataclysmic emotions crashing through her, she was unable to breathe, never mind answer! She tried to take a breath but was unable to. Fear made her icily black eyes widen further and her hands clenched hard as she fought for life. Her lungs cried for sustenance. For air. For survival. An eternity of pain - or a moment in time.. ..and then death released its grip on her and she could breathe again. Falling to her knees, gasping, tears streaming down her face, her whole body shook as she coughed and slowly pulled air into her lungs. Finally she managed to raise her tear-stricken face, shrugging off the shame she felt at her own weakness. “You.. need never question my loyalty, Great Lord!”, Qariahna replied earnestly when she had regained her breath. “My Oath to you is eternal!” YES IT IS The pain continued through her body but it was now tinged by sweetness.. an impossible combination, but true even so. Her right arm started shaking again and she struggled to make it stop. She waited for the Great Lord to say something more but for a while there was nothing but quiet. A Deathly stillness. ● She tried to pull herself together, but she was struggling. She felt so weak… and she hated weakness. Then, finally, the silence in her mind was broken. MY AGENTS SPREAD CHAOS EVERYWHERE AS WE SPEAK. THEY ALSO SCHEME AGAINST ONE ANOTHER TO GAIN MY FAVOUR. IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN SO. THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE, THE WEAK WILL PERISH. WILL YOU SURVIVE, QARIAHNA. The question crashed through her mind and was accompanied by flashes of light and darkness in her head, of fires eternally burning.. She screamed.. whether aloud or just in her mind she could not tell. It did not matter. When her scream ended at last, her tearful eyes opened - had they been closed!? - and her voice shook. “I..I wi.. will survive, Great Lord. I wi.. will serve you loyally, do your bidding”. The shame of her weakness burned inside her soul like a wild and ferocious ocean of fire. YOU KNOW MY ANCIENT ENEMY, THE ONE CALLED DRAGON, HAS RETURNED. I HAVE PLANS FOR HIM AND HIS FOLLOWERS “Command me, Great Lord!” She shouted with fervour. As Qariahna listened to the Great Lord of the Dark’s commands in her head, tears of pain and joy and exhilaration continued to run in rivulets down her face. Agonizing ecstasy crashed through her entire body like a never-ending tempest until she finally blacked out. ● The White Tower party were still some distance south of the nation of Saldaea but they were getting closer each day. There had been no more attacks by outlaws or Shadowspawn and they had made good progress in the past few days. Thinking back, Elessar was still surprised that the Trollocs and Myrddraal had retreated in the end. They had suffered heavy losses at the hands of the Aes Sedai and Warders but in his experience Shadow forces rarely cared about losses. He presumed it had been a strategic retreat by whoever was driving the Shadowspawn. For whatever reason, they had been relieved because continuing the river battle would have cost more lives. Elessar had not been able to speak much with Calia since the battle since she had spent most of her time riding near the front of the party with her Captain-General except for her ‘new’ training rituals. The Warder had observed mostly from some distance, leaving her to her own devices. He approved of Aes Sedai training with weapons though. As he recalled telling Leandreen (who agreed and did not really need telling), it is prudent to be able to fight also when the One Power cannot or ought not be used. He smiled at Calia when he walked by, the memory of her grateful smile when he had saved her life at the river battle - and her heartfelt thanks at the Healing afterwards - strong in his mind. He had been so relieved that he had deflected the lethal sword strike by that ferocious Trolloc. Above all, it had lightened his soul that this time he had not failed. ● Watching her train this day, as he brushed down his warhorse Stormbreaker some distance away, the thought crossed his mind that he could offer her some advice on some of her techniques.. if she ever asked. He had many years skill and experience after all. He remembered Myrrhi, one of his former Bondholders, training with the sword. She had become decently skilled as well; he had been impressed by her hard work, dedication and enthusiasm. Perhaps Calia was of a similar mind and aspiration. When he was finished with Stormbreaker, giving his valiant warhorse an affectionate pat on the back as well as an apple to munch on, the Kandori Gaidin went to speak to some of the other Warders. They had pleasant talks but he found himself absent-minded and his thoughts often centered on Calia. He remembered his words to her, “We share the same vision.” And “We are ever ready to fight the Darkness. We stand ready.” By the look in her eyes he had gotten the impression that the words had resonated with her. She was a Battle Ajah Sister. But it was more than that. It was somewhat.. personal. Perhaps he was reading too much into things, but the kinship he was beginning to feel with her mirrored what he had felt with his former Bondholders. He had not seen Calia with any Warder so far and wondered if perhaps his belief that she had a Warder had been wrong. It was not something he would ask her about though, he did not wish to impose. It did, however, make him think of his former Aes Sedais and that night he dreamt of some of his missions with Kathleen and Myrrhi and the treasured Warder-Sedai Bond. ● The axe flew straight at him! Argam’s breath caught in his throat. He did not have time to think. Instinct! That was what saved him! He jumped to the side, his body hitting the ground hard.. just in time! The axe missed him by scarcely an inch as it embedded itself in the woodwork! The sound reverberated in his ears as he picked himself up. Staring with wide eyes at the axe, almost expecting it to come alive again, Argam ran inside and caught his frightened daughter Sandana in his arms. He held her tightly, thanking the Creator for keeping his daughter safe. A tear ran down his cheek and he caressed her hair lovingly. “I love you, Papa” she said softly, still frightened by the ordeal but feeling safe in her loving father’s embrace. “I love you too, sweetheart”, he replied, his voice emotional. “I will keep you safe”. He whispered, stroking her back. “There is nothing to be afraid of.” His daughter buried her face in his chest. He would protect her to death and beyond. She was his life. ● Samos’ eyes widened in utter disbelief as he stared down at the dagger protruding from his side. WHAT!!? He stumbled to the floor before he had time to think about this impossibility! Screaming in pain, his vision slowly started to blur and he understood at once that the dagger must have been poisoned. A shadow retreated hurriedly down the corridor. A blond-haired, tall, heavy-shouldered man with a handsome but scarred face pushed one of the servants who had come running forcefully away, slamming the entrance door behind him in his haste to escape. Samos neither heard nor saw anything. His vision was ‘swimming’ now and he felt his breathing becoming heavier and heavier. He was dying, he knew, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Pain enveloped his whole being. HOW could this be happening!!? ● Blood flowed red onto the floor from his lethal wound in a steady stream that did not let up. Death was slowly taking him.. and just as he closed his eyes for the last time.. ..an avalanche of ice and cold rushed into his body, slamming him to the floor, but driving away the darkness and, gradually, also the pain. He was so far gone though that his mind blacked out.. ..and it was only later, when he awoke in bed from unconsciousness, weak, bewildered and confused, that he understood that he was still alive. Somehow. Incredibly enough! Looking slowly up at the placid-looking blond-haired woman with the ageless face wearing a soft yellow dress and a yellow shawl who sat beside his bed, he nodded his grateful thanks. Silently he thanked the Great Lord for saving his life. For surely He had sent this Aes Sedai to help him. To Heal him. She must be highly skilled, he thought, for he had surely been near death. That made him think of the assassin who had almost succeeded in killing him. He cursed inside, swearing to himself that he would find the man whoever and wherever he was - and kill him! The Yellow Sister handed him a bowl of vegetable soup which he accepted thankfully. He found that he was ravenous. While he ate, she studied him closely, her hands in her lap, her butterfly-Angreal tucked back in her dress pocket. He did not look remarkable in any way but then again looks could be deceiving. She knew that all too well. They each had their uses for the Shadow. They each had their orders. Luckily she had been in an adjoining room talking with the High Lady when she had heard his scream in the corridor and had arrived in time. It had been a close call though, the poison almost reaching his heart, and without her Angreal she doubted she would have been successful in Healing him. The Great Lord still had a use for this one. ● Shara. That was the name outlanders called their nation. Some also called it Shibouya, she had heard. Other names as well, names on maps, names in books. Names in stories. Imravha, with her very dark skin and short black curly hair and olive-shaped brown eyes, had little time for such lofty concepts. For her and for all others in this greatest nation of the world, their country was Co'dansin, land of the glorious people. Outlanders were forbidden in their country with a very few exceptions. The Sh'boan , their glorious ruler, made sure everyone knew this decree and the legendary Ayyad enforced it throughout the land. Imravha knew little of such things, she was the property of An’mhala Ri’lar and had been so for all her fifteen years of life. She had heard whispers though from fellow slaves - for slaves they were, even if the word was banned in their nation; they were ‘property’ or She’zaan, honoured servants - that some outlanders had been seen in their city of Qrii’dhan of late though she did not know if she would believe it. She had never seen anyone foreign or strange in their city streets. It was dangerous to question things and ask questions that their masters did not want asked; fear of breaking the laws and customs made girls such as Imravha fall into line, or else they would tempt fate. She knew well the laws that governed masters and their ‘property’, her master had been very adamant that all his ‘property’ understood it well. She and others like her were no more than animals to their masters, if truth be told, and could and would be disciplined, put down and slaughtered, for any discrepancies or none at all. She had no rights and would never have any. She felt guilty even of thinking of this matter as she carried the heavy supplies from the vendor on her back all the way to the home of her master in the baking afternoon sun. The smell of spices and offal permeated the air as it always did in the dusty streets of the city and the buzz of life was all around her as she drudgingly made her sweaty way through the maze of people and wagons. Stop thinking, Imravha! It was her older brother, Igraad. It was his fault. He was the one who had planted these questioning, almost rebellious thoughts in her head. He was the one to blame. Him and his angry useless friends who did nothing but complain. This was the only home she would ever have and it was a waste of time reflecting on her miserable life. Things would never change, that was the only certainty. Things never changed for the poor and the lost. ● The nation was bordered to the southwest and south by the Sea of Storms, and to the east by the Morenal Ocean. To the north it was bordered by the Mountains of Dhoom and the Great Blight. To the west was the region called the Aiel Waste by some and even further west the continent that Sharans simply called Mehl’zaan, the Outlands. Several tall mountain ranges separated their glorious land from that of these outlanders and they had also built heavily-fortified towns in the few locations where the cliffs and mountains could be scaled. In each of these towns the residents went veiled at all times, and the walls were so tall that it was impossible to see into the towns from outside. Outlanders were not permitted to travel through these towns' eastern gates into Shara proper. Those who were to try would disappear. Some trade was necessary even with some of these outlanders, though this was something the authorities kept from most commoners. It was necessary to reinforce the belief that their glorious unique nation was separate from, necessarily apart from, the Outlands. And we are glorious, thought Khraa’malia as she from her lofty position atop the building stared out at the desert beyond the walls of this small village in the central part of the nation. We are the chosen ones. She was a tall and slim woman dressed in brown as was custom, of very dark complexion with short curly hair and fierce dark brown eyes. Her face was tattooed in the tradition of the Ayyad, the society of all who could channel the One Power in Shara, but her added personal tattoo was unique since the triangle symbol upon her forehead signified that she was the Amo’hra, the revered leader of the Ayyad and, in practice if not formally, the ruler of the Sharan nation. ● Another secret we need to keep, thought the Ayyad-woman as she raised her head to the sapphire-blue skies and the late afternoon sun. Secrets within secrets. The Ayyad carried many secrets and truths that the rest of their glorious nation was not ready for, truths that if revealed could unravel their society, Khraa’malia felt sure. So many secrets, so many hidden truths. One was that their rulers who always died after seven years in power were, in fact, killed by the Ayyad, they did not just ‘empower’ a new monarch out of tradition and pass away. The ‘will of the Pattern’ it was called, a notion nurtured over the years by the Ayyad in established circles, but it was in fact the ‘will of the Ayyad’. Another well kept secret, never to be disclosed, was that all male Ayyad, living in segregated, separate villages from ordinary Sharans, were killed and cremated when they reached the age of twenty one or when the spark for channeling was discovered in them. Also hidden from most was the fact that male Ayyad primarily served as breeding stock for female Ayyad. They were used to breed more female Ayyad channelers, and as such their bloodlines were traced like horse breeding stock. They could feed and dress themselves but were not allowed to read or to write. Males were communally raised, called simply "the male," instead of "he." When they became of the age of sixteen, they were taken from their original village and hooded and cloaked and transported to other villages, where they were matched with female Ayyad who desired children. The Ayyad could never speak of the underlying reason for this practice, of course. That the danger with the taint on Saidin, making all male channelers too dangerous to keep alive, was too great a risk. Some might also wonder if madness was inherent in Saidar as well, just kept a well-guarded secret, and that could be the end of the Ayyad. Silence on this matter was of the utmost importance. And if the males could help breed new female Ayyad channelers before their life was snuffed out, all the better. It is a wise practice - and prudent, thought the Amo’hra as she felt the sweet seductive power of Saidar in her veins. She was the strongest in the One Power among the Ayyad which was part of the reason why she had been chosen their leader. It also helped that she came from the right family, of course. Breeding would always tell. ● Hearing some footsteps behind her, Khraa’malia had just time to half-turn before a shield of Saidar was slammed between her and the One Power! Her mouth gaped open in bewilderment and shock as she stared at her female Ayyad lover Fehr’nol who grinned back at her with wicked delight. The Amo’hra stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with fear but also with anger at the betrayal. She tried in vain to reach the One Power inside her but she was shielded as effectively as if she never had been able to channel. She could feel Saidar there waiting inside her.. beckoning.. but it was behind a wall and could not be reached. This was impossible, she knew, Fehr’nol should not be strong enough to do this to her. IMPOSSIBLE!! She tried to scream for help but no sound came forth. She was gagged with Air, she understood. She tried to run but was unable to move. The other woman’s smile widened into a malicious grin and a chuckle very unlike her dear friend of many years was heard. “It is time to die, Amo’hra.” She simply said, her voice cold. “Your service to the Ayyad.. is at an end.” ● Khraa’malia never had time to get over her momentous shock. Her dark eyes widened and her whole body went rigid as she felt a thin but lethal weave of Saidar slice through her; her heart constricted, internal bleeding began and respiration stopped. A moment later her incredulous eyes rolled up into her head and she fell dead to the ground. The other woman stared for a long moment at the dead leader of the Ayyad, a wicked and satisfied look on her face, then lifted the corpse by threads of Air and carried it to a table at the other side of the roof building. The table usually had other purposes but was convenient now as the woman placed the dead body on it. Closing her eyes, the woman remembered every detail of the dead woman’s appearance, and combining the flows just so.. her face slowly changed into that of the dead woman. When the process was complete, the weaves of this variation of the Mirror of Mists set, face and body was the exact same. Her voice soon also mimicked the dead woman’s. Using Saidar to swiftly cremate the body, she placed the remains in a special steel container that she had brought with her. Finally she moved off the rooftop and down some stone steps to the lavish apartment below. It was decorated in the Sharan style which meant primarily use of earthly colours but there were many stylish figurines on shelves and expensive carpets on the floor. Standing in front of a tall mirror which hung on one wall, she appraised herself. ● Long live the Amo’hra, glorious Leader of the Ayyad, thought the woman wickedly and triumphantly to herself as she studied her delectable Sharan reflection in the mirror. The Great Lord will be pleased. Then she turned and departed in haste, heading for the building that housed several of the Amo’hra’s most trusted Ayyad advisors. On the way she passed the part of the grounds where lay buried the real Fehr’nol. The glorious new - and false - Amo’hra’s grin widened, her white teeth glistening, her eyes glinting darkly. There was work to be done for the Shadow in Shara. ▀▄
  19. .. A Breath of Life and Embers of Evil .. ►▼◄ The Trolloc’s blade flashed before his eyes! It was coming down fast toward Calia’s neck in a lethal strike but to Elessar, fighting off another beast to the side, all seemed to happen in slow motion.. Beneath the canopy of Moon and Stars, time almost seemed to stop. Shadows crept slowly towards them.. unyielding in their ferocity.. Elessar parried a heavy strike aimed at his side and then his blade swept upwards and struck flesh.. ● Calia! She half-turned as if suddenly having seen the new attacker.. Her hand held a knife.. But she was reacting too late.. Too late! ● Elessar acted on instinct! As his blade swung in a deadly arc toward the eagle-beaked massive Trolloc that had attacked him, severing the beast’s head in a shower of blood and gore and stench, he used his forward momentum to carry him closer to Calia. With speed and agility he crossed the remaining space between them.. .. and in a giant leap brought his sword blade up just as that Trolloc’s sword was coming down on Calia’s neck.. .. deflecting what would surely have been a killing blow! ● The wind of the blade rang in Calia’s ear.. ● The beast’s eyes widened in disbelief, growling furiously at the Warder as it swung its blade at him, saliva dripping from its ugly maw, blood from its broken tusk. Elessar sensed Calia a few steps behind him now but had to focus on the Trolloc. He deflected several powerful strikes and then, regaining his balance, he went on the offensive. With several well-practiced advanced sword forms he attacked the Trolloc wounding it in several places, blood running from its side, thigh and legs. The beast growled in pain, snuffled and shouted threateningly at him in its guttural language but Elessar remained calm inside, sidestepping slashes and inflicting even more wounds on the fast weakening Shadowspawn. He finally got inside the heavy beast’s guard and slammed the side of his blade into the Trolloc’s head and the beast was felled like a tree. It was not dead but totally incapacitated and the Warder swept his gaze back to Calia. Her eyes were wide and a bit dazed, but then she refocused with purposeful strength and she gave him a small grin, as if to say thank you, before facing the oncoming shadows again. This time I did not fail. This time I saved her. The words whispered in Elessar’s mind, echoing from deep within his soul, and brought a small smile of relief and gratitude to his otherwise dark face before his eyes tightened again and he too faced the oncoming beasts anew, his blade held high! ● The Myrddraal brought the three fists of Trollocs through the Waygate. Replacing the leaf on one side of the gate, it shimmered like a reflected mirror, the portal opening to show the hard plains of southern Saldaea. The beasts were not slow to depart the Ways, clearly happy to be out of them and in one piece, having avoided the dreaded Black Wind. They ran snuffling into the Saldaean night, five beasts abreast, saliva dripping from their maws, while the Fade paired the Avendesora leaf with the one on the outside of the gate, effectively closing it. He then followed the fists onto the hard ground and headed southwards. They still had a good distance to complete. The Myrddraal glided to the front of the three fists and stayed in front as they pushed hard onwards, his black armour with overlapping scales dimly shining in the reflection from the moon above, his black cloak not stirring in the increasing breeze coming out of the north. He moved between shadows, sometimes disappearing into them, like a piece of darkness separate but at the same time not. ● “Papa! It’s trying to kill me!!” Sandana screamed as she came running frantically through the entrance door, throwing herself into the warm embrace of her father. He was a man of thirty with a darker complexion, short brown hair, dark eyes and a handsome face only marred by a scar running down his left cheek. He looked kindly down on his daughter whose face was almost buried in his stomach. “What is it, Sandana?”, he responded calmly, knowing the active imagination of his six year old daughter. “Is the neighbour’s dog overenthusiastic again?” “The axe, Papa. The axe!!” She was crying now, her voice terrified. Argam’s hands comforted his daughter, holding her safe in his hands. A brown-haired child with large oval eyes, high cheekbones and a somewhat pouty mouth, he loved her more than life itself. She was all he had left since his darling wife Idrina had died of a fever several years before. Even so, he was used to her child dramatics and it was no different this time. “Calm down, my love” he said caringly, holding her tightly. “That dog is a bit on the wild side, that is true, but you have nothing to be afraid of.” “But the axe, Papa! The axe!” She was becoming hysterical and her tiny body started shaking, tears flowing freely down her soft cheeks. He started soothing her again, brushing her off.. but then he heard a thumping sound outside! There was no barking from the dog, this was a completely different sound. It almost sounded as if.. as if someone was chopping wood. ● His eyes tightened. What could this be!? They lived alone on their small farm out in the country here in southern Saldaea and their neighbour, an old grouchy man of sixty years who lived a ten minute walk away, was the only other person in the vicinity. Calming his daughter further, he assured her that there was nothing to be afraid of, then asked her to go to the bedroom and to lock the door. Sandana did not want him to leave, clinging to him tightly, but she finally met his eyes and hurried to her bedroom and did as she was told. When he saw that she was safe, Argam picked up a large knife and headed outside. The sight that met him made him dumbfounded! Twenty paces or so away an axe was indeed chopping wood.. .. but it was doing so of its own volition! There was nobody there chopping the wood! .. But the axe was swinging hard down on the logs, swung by invisible hands! His jaw dropping to the ground, his dark eyes as wide as they would go, the Saldaean farmer remained glued to the spot, watching what was clearly impossible! HOW!!!!!!? His eyes gazed into the shadows on either side, seeking whoever was behind this.. impossibility. Was an Aes Sedai here!? He had never seen a Sister of the White Tower in person but knew of them and knew that they had abilities from their One Power that went beyond the natural. Like most Borderlanders he respected Aes Sedai as allies in the everlasting war against the Shadow, but even so he did not care to meet one of them. He was a simple farmer and wanted a simple life. They were the only ones he could think of though who could perform such a feat. So he stared hard into the twilight and the trees on either side of their house, trying to find where the woman had to be standing. There was no one though anywhere; he was alone out there. All alone. IMPOSSIBLE!!! His mind could not fathom what was going on, but as he took two careful steps toward the axe .. it suddenly stopped in mid-air.. .. and the axe-blade turned toward him.. WHAT!!? His breath caught in his throat! It was as if time stood still.. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. And then - the axe flew straight at him, whispers of death in its wake! ● “As you all know, we have been ordered to steal that accursed Ter'angreal!” Samos’s voice was loud and accusatory as he looked hard at the other members of his circle. They sat around the huge table, cloaked figures of darkness, and all had their hoods down. Some of the figures stirred as they felt his harsh look upon them, others remained still. All of them knew, however, that their leader was not happy. Far from it. “And all you have come up with so far”, Samos added with scorn after some moments had passed, “are stupid ideas that have no chance of success. Are you the fools you appear to be, or is there someone among you who has something valuable to offer?” His words were met with utter silence and he scowled, running his sweaty hands through his hair. “Come up with suggestions for a plan soon, a plan that is doable..”, he said keeping his fury at bay, “or else the wrath of the Great Lord is the least you have to look forward to!” He slammed the door behind him, cursing aloud as he swept down the partially lit hall, uncaring of the treasured ornaments on the walls, the beautiful tapestries and the ancient statues along the corridors. His anger at them was really anger at himself for being unable to come up with a solution. Cursing again, he rounded a corner and almost ran into a uniformed servant carrying a tray for the High Lady herself. He had to find a solution - and fast! He was still mulling over the problem, trying to come up with some kind of answer, and was about to open the door to the room he had been accorded in this Manor House, when the dagger plunged deep into his side! ● Leandreen. He was thinking about her again. Sitting by the fire by himself he watched the red-orange flames rise into the night. Throwing some more twigs on the fire he saw the coals sparkle as they caught the wood. Perhaps it was the talk he and Calia had had before the battle with the Shadowspawn several days earlier that brought his memories of her more to the fore. Perhaps it was fighting beside another Battle Ajah Sister. For whatever reason, her emerald-green eyes echoed in his mind and he tried to ignore the guilt that most often followed the good memories of their time together. And Calia had known her. Or at least known of her. It should not have come as such a surprise to him considering Calia and Leandreen were from the same Ajah but he was kinda taken aback by the revelation. He had smiled when she had told him but inside he had tried to recall if Leandreen had ever mentioned her. He did not think she had but then again it was a long time ago and Leandreen had never been one to talk much about other Sisters. When Calia had added that once Leandreen had suggested that she, Calia, take up his own good services as a poet if she ‘felt so inclined to try and rhyme’, he had shared her grin. Poetry and flowery words certainly were never Calia’s forte, she had admitted, and Elessar had grinned inside, thinking to himself that Leandreen had been much the same. ● Elessar had smiled when he had seen Calia’s interest in the poem he had shared. She had begun analyzing the words and thinking out loud. Though she was not one to write poetry, she clearly found it interesting to read and scrutinize. "Which star did the Moon take as a bride, I wonder?" she had added lightly, tilting her head up to the sky, blue eyes twinkling mischievously when she had returned her gaze to his. "I can't imagine that to be a fulfilling marriage - there's absolutely an insurmountable distance and deep measure of darkness between each two!" Elessar had found that analysis very interesting. To him the poem had been one of love, loss and triumph and though the two were far apart they were still together in the sky as a united ‘couple’ as it were. What constituted a fulfilling marriage was another matter though. He had shared his thoughts with Calia who had listened attentively. ● "...Seriously though, do you like discussing poetry as much as reciting it?" she had asked the Gaidin. “Not really”, he had replied honestly with unfeigned laughter. “Not that I don’t like some analysis, but I find more joy in reading, reciting and experiencing poetry in song and verse.” She had added that she used to enjoy debating the messages and truths that may or may not have been hidden within words such as those, but that now she was wiser - she had grinned - and knew that likely there was no right or wrong interpretation and that people would see what their experience and current perspective on the subject encouraged them to see. She had given the example about the poem being an epic on love lost and regained, saying she understood the ‘lost’, adding that she was married to a true love once, and he was killed in battle against Shadowspawn also. As in the poem it ‘tore’ her, her ‘heart was broken and the mind’ and truly she had wrought and courted Death looking for solace in the past.. Elessar had appreciated that she had confided in him with this very personal information. As she said, such a confession was nothing she made lightly or to most. He had thanked her for sharing, it also made them connect through pain. "But, truthfully, I'm lost on the 'regained'..." she had pursed her lips. "Especially when it comes to the Moon and Star representing the lovers... Maybe I'm too practical and cynical, but what the people 'felt in heart' doesn't change what is, was or would be - Life lost is life lost. Stars and moons can never touch - and Light knows nothing truly lasts forever!" ● Chewing her lip a moment she had added that, though, she supposed there was a certain romantic element in the idea that the Moon and Star in their own way were both contributing Light against the Darkness of night. At least they were united in that sense, however far apart they were realistically. She had looked quizzically at the Warder and had laughed unabashedly. "Welcome to the mind of Calia Luin," she had quipped, "Where everything, even poetry, comes down to the battle of Light against the Dark!" They had shared a wide grin before Calia had gone silent, studying him as if wondering what he would say to it all. ● Many thoughts had gone through Elessar’s mind at that point. His first thought had been that here was another complex woman. All women were complex in his experience, wondrous but inexplicable creatures, and Aes Sedai more so than most. He had never fully understood any of his Bondholders and doubted he ever would. His second thought had been that this Green Sister clearly had a analytical side to her. She had considered the poem even more deeply than he had in truth, bringing forth interesting aspects that made him look at the poem anew. His next thought had been that his initial view that she combined a passion for life with strength and grit for war had been correct. In this she mirrored his previous Green Bondholders. His last thought had been that she had shared much personal information with him and must be comfortable talking with him. It had felt like talking to Myrrhi, Kathleen and Leandreen; different women in many ways but even so the same woman. A thrill had gone through his body, a thrill of connection and kinship, though he had tried to keep the emotion off his face. He had stared into the night for a while before responding. “We share the same vision”, he had begun. A small smile on his face. “We are ever ready to fight the Darkness.” His dark eyes had sparkled. “We stand ready.” ● Calia had smiled at the last part. It showed that he still saw himself as part of the Greens. “You have analyzed the poem in greater depth than I have”, he had admitted with a warm grin, “and it has made me consider the words anew. ‘Stars and Moons can never touch’, you say. I guess I am more of a romantic than you at heart”, he had added lopsidedly, “true love knows no bounds and can indeed last forever.” “And the Light is their love for one another, wherever they are.” He had smiled. “That it stands against the Darkness is a biproduct of their love as I have interpreted it. But that is just one view as you say.” He had chuckled, adding that Leandreen too had teased him for being too romantic at heart. Perhaps it was his psyche balancing the harshness of Warder life courting Darkness in their war against the Shadow, he had said in self-analysis, needing a counterpoint of hopeful emotion. His eyes had hardened when he had spoken of the Shadow and Calia had noticed it. A poet with a romantic heart he may be, she had thought to herself, but first and foremost he was a warrior of the Light - and a strong one at that. ● A strong western breeze drifted into the opening of the cave. It was situated in a desolate place, the blue-black waves of the Aryth Ocean crashing onto the dark cliffs far below. The Darkness without mirrored the Darkness within. Standing at the mouth of the cave, the dark-haired, coldly beautiful woman gazed silently into the night. Change was in the air.. she could feel it in her bones.. as she touched the silk cloth that made up her black cloak. The woman who called herself Qariahna, at least in this place, grinned darkly as she pulled down her hood, loving the feel of Saidar within her. It made her feel alive.. powerful.. it was a feeling of life and energy and bliss that she never wanted to let go of. Nodding to herself, she finally turned and faced the cave again. It was time. She walked inside, a ball of light following her into the darkness. The cave path slowly straightened, then angled upwards and finally opened up, walls of stone rising upwards on all sides, with huge malachites hanging from the ceiling high above. In the middle of the huge stone chamber, crisscrossed by symbols on the ground and partially lit by three dozen candle lights, stood thirteen Myrddraal and twelve Dreadlords. Bound by flows of Air to the stone wall behind them, two feet off the ground, was the Aes Sedai. She was Iraya Vandelehn of the Blue Ajah, an Aes Sedai of one hundred and ninety years, second in command of that group of Sisters, assisting the Ajah Head. Her matching blue eyes stared icily and defiantly at everyone gathered, her smooth ageless Aes Sedai-features set, her long brown hair with touches of grey at the edges flowing down from her shoulders. She was gagged with Air but had she not been, Qariahna felt sure she would have cursed them all as evil traitors to the Light and demand to be set free. She liked women with spirit, but her defiance would soon turn to terror when she realized what they were going to do to her. ● Six of the gathered Dreadlords were male, the remaining six female. The Myrddraal stood silently waiting, their Eyeless faces turned upwards. Qariahna made the shining ball of light disappear, it was not needed now, and walked up to the bound Aes Sedai and smiled wickedly. Staring up into the Altaran woman’s face she whispered, “This is a day of joy for you. Soon you will join your sisters and brothers in service to the Great Lord. You are forsaking the Light. Aren’t you happy?” Defiance gradually turned to terror as recognition dawned on her and she realized what the woman had meant, what was about to happen to her. Her eyes widened in unfeigned horror, her Aes Sedai confidence gone. Her soul cried out and had she been able to, she would have killed herself rather than go through what she now understood was about to happen: she was going to be Turned to the Shadow against her will! Tears flowed unashamedly down her chin, her cheeks burning with frustration, her limbs starting to shake, as she thought with utter despair that they would make her betray the Light forever! She had been told of this secret evil practice from Ages past - the last known case was during the Trolloc Wars as far as she knew - in confidence when she had been raised Aes Sedai more than one hundred and fifty years before. In order to Turn someone unwillingly to the Shadow, it was said, one needed to gather thirteen Myrddraal and thirteen Dreadlords in one place. The victim of Turning must also be able to channel. The combination of Saidin and Saidar channeled through Myrddraal in this way was said to shift the allegiance of any channeler to the Shadow against their will. The process twists the person so that any previous commitment to the Light is redirected towards the Shadow. It was the ultimate evil and horror Iraya could imagine and she screamed silent screams that almost tore her soul! ● Qariahna smiled wickedly, enjoying seeing the true horror painted on the Blue Aes Sedai’s face. It was time to begin. She joined the twelve Dreadlords, making and completing by linking a circle of thirteen channelers. She was the one leading, controlling the flow. She felt Saidar surge through her body and she increased the flow almost to bursting, feeling ecstasy in her soul. The power coming from the thirteen channelers was so strong that it made the air vibrate. She removed the gag of Air from the Aes Sedai and she screamed loudly, unendingly, a desperate cry that welled up from the bottom of her soul. Channeling through the thirteen Myrddraal, mixing with the power that the Fades derived from the True Power, the thirteen channelers of the Shadow threw their combined might at the Aes Sedai woman and it hit her like a burning storm! Horrendous screams erupted from her mouth as she tried to fight the massive onslaught. Crying out for the Light, tears flooding her face, she fought the mental rape for what seemed an eternity, using every fibre of her being to defend her soul, her heart, everything that was Iraya, resisting for as long as she was able. Hysterical with pain and fear, trying in vain to reach for the blessed One Power, and wanting oblivion, she fought on.. and on.. OH LIGHT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! .. her will strong and fighting and brave and pure….. but it was not enough. Not enough. NOT ENOUGH!!!! Slowly, by increments, she felt her inner defences weakening, her thoughts became muddled and she knew .. OH DEAR CREATOR, I CAN FEEL IT!!! I CAN FEEEEEL IT!!! .. .. that her soul was being darkened. Her strength waned and then at a certain point, an eternity later but she could not tell, she felt a.. change inside her, a shifting, a Breaking.. .. as if a hand of darkness had reached into her and extinguished everything she had ever been, everything she had ever thought, every love she had ever nurtured, every dream she had ever had. NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! PLEASE, NOOOOOOOOOO!!! Her soul was Breaking - and the horrifying screams in her mind were Endless. Her last thought as herself before she passed out from the horrendous violation of her entire being, the final touch of Light embracing her soul, was that she wanted to Die and End it all. ● Afterwards Qariahna felt spent. The Myrddraal standing together in the corner, black cloaks on top of black armour with overlapping scales, seemed unaffected but looking at the others she saw that several of the other men and women were pretty exhausted too. It had taken longer than expected to break this Aes Sedai woman, she had been strong-willed, strong in herself, but they had succeeded. She had been Turned to the Shadow and was no longer the same woman, the same personality, that she had been. She was now a tool for the Great Lord. When Iraya Sedai recovered a little later, she walked up to Qariahna and bowed deferentially. Her face was flat, unemotional as she swore new binding Oaths to the Great Lord holding an Oath Rod that served this specific purpose. Her eyes were deep wells of nothingness.. but this did not surprise Qariahna since she knew that Turned channelers were said to have a darkness or soullessness behind their eyes, at least for some period after the event. Iraya joined her Dreadlord Sisters in the huge cave, and would now willingly (even if perhaps slightly diminished) join the efforts to disrupt matters in the White Tower. Qariahna pursed her lips, then smiled viciously. This Sister was a person who it would benefit the Shadow greatly to have on their side. That was why they had gone to such lengths to Turn her. The Great Lord would be pleased. Sending all the others out of the huge cave, Qariahna walked forwards and looked coldly at the newly turned Aes Sedai. “Are you ready to carry out your duties for the Great Lord?” She asked smoothly, looking deeply into the woman’s eyes. Those blue eyes now had a tinge of purple at the edges. “I am, my Lady.” She replied truthfully, deferentially, her voice steady. Her eyes were dead but she spoke with certainty and fervour. She was ready to serve the Shadow. She was ready to break the Blue Ajah; from within. The Aes Sedai woman who had once been Iraya Vandelehn, Blue Sister in the Light, was no more. All that remained were Shadows. ▀▄
  20. .. Embraced in Reflections of Silver .. ►▼◄ Prologue Soft winds touched the beautiful pale silver water of a small, sacred, ethereal Saldaean pond, situated somewhat to the east of the village of Vericun near the Blight Border. The soft wind created minuscule ripples that slowly spread outwards in beautiful silver waves. Darkness covered the land in all directions and far above stars painted the sky in tiny white lights, while the full moon shone its delicate silver rays into the deepness of the night. All was silent in the dark. It was as if the world was waiting.. Suddenly a small ripple on the silvery water surface could be seen at the pond’s centre. Another small ripple. And then a third. The surrounding woodland was dead silent, the sentinel trees waiting in anticipation of whatever would bring life. When what first looked like a shadow but then gained substance ever so slowly emerged from the water’s silver surface, water cascading in streams of light, it was almost as if time stopped. A woman’s beautiful face gleamed in the light from the moon and her long dark hair streamed behind her. Silver drops of water ran in rivulets down the woman’s glistening naked body as she almost glided out of the silver pond, the water upon her skin like liquid crystals in rain. Standing on the ground near the water’s edge, the soil hard beneath her feet, she pushed her wet hair behind her ears and brushed her lips with her fingertips as she stared silently, thoughtfully for a long time at the surrounding trees and what lay beyond. Her eyes were pools of darkness, deep wells of night. The soft wind caressing the silver pond, like a mother’s soothing voice would its sleeping child, gave a final sigh as if letting out its breath. And then the woman smiled. ● Chapter The Darkhound’s shining silver eyes glinted in the pale reflection from the moon high above, as its razor-sharp teeth crushed the Aes Sedai Sister’s throat. Corrosive saliva dripped onto her exposed skin, burning through like acid. Her struggles ended quickly. Her stunned blue eyes stared into the beyond, her whole body still now that death had taken her. Her yellow travelling dress was stained with blood where arteries had ruptured. Her left arm was at an unnatural angle where she had fallen, bones sticking out. On the ring finger of her left hand was a golden ring fashioned into the shape of a serpent biting its own tail, the ancient symbol of eternity and time itself. A Great Serpent Ring, the infamous symbol of an Aes Sedai. Droplets of blood smeared the golden ring as if purposely imposing on its purity. The Darkhound relished the kill. A kill always made it feel fulfilled. It revelled in the blood for a long time before it let the shell of the woman that had been be. It finally turned to the rest of the pack which waited at the end of the garden. Blood ran from its mouth, its muzzles red, saliva still dripping. Moving silently across the grass and through the flowebeds it swiftly joined the others. It was another shadow among shadows, the silver eyes the only thing breaking the darkness. Mission fulfilled, the Aes Sedai link and liaison to the White Tower removed, the Darkhounds moved as one almost silently along the pathways that led away from the Manor House there in the Saldaean city of Irinjavar. Their silver eyes were gleaming in delight, their breaths shallow, their motion smooth, leaving no footprints on the soft ground. Soon they were out of the city heading south. A soft wind picked up in the aftermath, the whistling sound almost as if in mourning. The garden in front of the Manor House was left in Shadow. ● Calia and Elessar sat opposite one another with the burning fire between them. Wood cracked as slivers of red and purple flame danced in the dark as they reached toward the heavens. Heat from the fire warmed them both but Elessar was lost in memories and hardly noticed the welcome heat. They had talked a little this night just as they had done several times in the days since they had continued their journey north. Casual conversations that he enjoyed even though they had not shared anything personal. His reason for not sharing was not because he felt she was untrustworthy, far from it. She was a woman of much integrity, that he understood already. His past was.. complicated though. His history in the White Tower.. uncommon to say the least. Sometimes during the evenings shared around the fire he was tempted to tell her more about himself.. but something inside stopped him. Perhaps he felt some things were only to be shared with a Bondholder. Perhaps he was not ready yet. For whatever reason, he was reluctant to speak. And so the words he never spoke lurked beneath the surface of his voice, echoes waiting to be released. ● The crimson burning flames made him think of Leandreen. He had not thought of her for a while and though he would never admit it to anyone, he felt shame. Shame that she had slipped out of his thoughts. She, who would never forgive him! Who could not forgive him! Since she was dead many years. He closed his eyes momentarily as pain seared in his soul. Clenching his fists he brought his emotions under control. The pain that would never really go away sank its teeth into his heart. He forced it away, opening his eyes and steadying his breathing. His eyes met Calia’s across the fire and he could see from her look that she had seen him tense up. Unclenching his fists he relaxed his whole body, pushing his thoughts - and guilt - away for the moment as he had done on countless occasions in the intervening years. Long moments passed and he sensed that Calia wanted to say something but she stayed silent, perhaps out of respect for him. Women had good instincts, he knew from personal experience, and Aes Sedai better than most. She was sensitive enough though to wait. Until he was ready to talk. Biting his lip, the Gaidin threw a few small twigs into the fire, watching them become consumed by the flames. Without having planned it he suddenly began speaking. His voice was hardly more than a whisper as it carried across the flames. “Leandreen was my first Bondholder.” He had not spoken about her to this woman but had mentioned her name a few times. Staring into the flames, he spoke a little about how she had Bonded him those many years ago. “Her hair was the colour of these flames”, he added at one point, a sad smile on his face. “And her personality was fiery too. She burned with passion to fight the Shadow”, he said with pride in his voice, “a true Battle Ajah Sister.” ● His voice went silent then as he threw another twig into the fire. His eyes darkened and she could see his face tightening. She did not want to interrupt him and so remained silent. Then his eyes met hers squarely. “She died in a skirmish with Darkfriends.” He said. “And I was unable to save her. To my everlasting shame.” He looked away, pushing his feelings of guilt to the side. He was only partially successful. “My life before yours”, he muttered under his breath but Calia heard. Sensing that his telling had perhaps been a little too personal, uncertain why he had shared his inner pain with this Sister, he shrugged to make light of it and added with a small grin, “I thought you might like to know a little about her since I have mentioned her on occasion, that’s all.” ● His grin broadened as he continued. “She often bragged about my skills as a poet.” He chuckled under his breath. “The truth is, I was never that good, though I always was competent in recalling poems and old stories.” “I have always enjoyed listening to poems and old songs”, he added after a moment’s reflection. “All the way back to when I was young”. She could see his face light up when he was talking about this subject. When she asked if he would share one of those old stories, he replied that he would love to. Thinking about the many old poems he knew, he picked one. He smiled and said that this was an ancient poem that he had heard it be said was from before the Age of Legends. It was an epic poem of love and loss and regained love called “Star and Moon”. While the flames kept burning between them, partially lighting up the darkness of the night overhead, Calia listened attentively as his voice carried the story on the Winds of Time.. ►▼◄ Star and Moon Princess sweet and Prince of Light Fell in love one autumn Night Great were days of joy and Smiles Both together through the Miles Beautiful she was to See Handsome man was also He Perfect couple for the Lands Wedded true and holding Hands Then the darkness fell on All In the war, the Prince‘s Fall Tore her heart, the Princess Sad In her grief, she went all Mad Heart was broken and the Mind Death a solace, far Behind But at last she passed Away To the lands beyond, to Stay Mourning hard the people Cried Hope and beauty had now Died Then one evening up they Stared Wonder great, the night-sky Fared In the sky a star was Born Brilliant it shone, Forlorn And the people felt in Heart She was back, a brand new Start Tears from heaven, from the Queen Of the sky, of beauty Seen She would watch the land till End Came to all that was, my Friend But alone she was in Truth Missed her loved one, and her Youth Where was Prince and all Delight Then she saw him, moon in Night And the moon would glow with Life Her great Prince with his dear Wife Both together, far Above Star and Moon, forever Love ►▲◄ ● Samos walked aimlessly around the streets of Tar Valon. A cold breeze came in from the south and the sky above was filled with dark clouds; they mirrored his inner thoughts. The truth of it was, he had no idea how to accomplish his mission. Just thinking back on her orders, her punishment made it run cold down his back. He would suffer mightily if he failed a second time. If he was allowed to live. He gritted his teeth as he rounded a shop corner and headed down the adjoining street. He tightened the cloak around his shoulders and cursed his bad luck. Finally he stopped his aimless walk, brought on by panic though he would never admit as much to anyone, and sat down on a wooden bench near the centre of the City of the Aes Sedai. People walked past intent on their own business and he paid them no mind. His thoughts were on the impossible task he had been given. How was he to sneak into the White Tower and steal an object of power!? ● It was well guarded, after all. And if he against all odds managed to do so but was caught, he would be interrogated.. and if they somehow learned of his.. allegiance.. - and Aes Sedai were very good at finding out things.. - then he would be executed as a Darkfriend. He had no doubt about that. His face darkened as he mulled over the dilemma. He hated the Aes Sedai, they were the sworn enemy who had to be crushed if the Great Lord was to succeed. Even so, the cursed Sisters should not be underestimated. Their cursed One Power could be lethal. Spitting into the small patch of grass beside and behind the bench, his anger grew. What am I to do!? Cursing under his breath, he saw a pock-marked somewhat elderly man wearing a shabby cloak walking past his bench turn towards him with inquisitive eyes and he shot him a furious glare which made the local man hurry down the street without ever looking back. Good riddance! His foul mood did not lighten as the minutes passed by. His circle of followers had suggested several things but they were fools. Their outlandish suggestions had no chance of success. He had told them as much, sending them out of his house in fury. Droplets of rain started falling from the sky over Tar Valon and Samos got to his feet. Grumbling to himself and glaring at another passer-by, he headed back towards the busy main street. He needed to find a solution to his problem, he had to succeed, there was no other option! ● He did not observe the blond-haired, tall, heavy-shouldered man with a handsome but scarred face who watched him closely from behind a beautiful fountain of an ancient Amyrlin at the city’s centre square. The man’s eyes darkened and his mouth twisted in an evil grin as he watched Samos disappear down the street. He felt the coldness of his dagger inside his cloak. The dagger called for blood. ● Elessar recalled well the talk with Calia after she had Healed him after the battle with the brigands further south. He had seen her studying him intently after he had spoken in jest about fluke moves and perhaps getting too old for Warder business. She had then pressed a smile between her lips before replying that she had heard that jest more times than she cared to count .. and it weighed hard. But that experience told her, in her old age - her look was almost cheeky - that battles often depend on those who can both recognize and survive fluke moves. He knew what she meant. He had not replied but had noticed that there was something more serious underneath her spoken words, as if she spoke from experience. Like most Aes Sedai her ageless look made it difficult to determine her age but he sensed she had many years on her and probably had many experiences with Warders both current and past. Under her own breath she had then muttered, "And Light knows we have plenty of battles yet to win." He had heard what she said and agreed silently. Besides, she had added, lifting her voice and grinning, she had said that she had seen him in action and if he belonged in a rocking chair with his poetry books more than on a dark stallion with his sword in hand, then she belonged at the fireside with nothing more to life than idle needlepoint and a hot cup of tea! She had chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and he had joined her laughter, knowing the truth of those words. He had found that he was comfortable with her, to a degree he had only experienced with his former Bondholders. He had decided to talk more with her when opportunity arose, most likely by the fire in the evenings. He looked forward to it. ● After Elessar shared the ancient poem, they spoke a little more by the shared fire before saying goodnight. The Warder headed for his warhorse and spent some time brushing him down before laying down for some sleep. He was to relieve one of the guards in a couple of hours. He found, however, that he struggled to fall asleep. Calia’s concerns voiced earlier that evening as they had hiked an extra-wide perimeter around the site for the intended camp kept echoing in his mind. She had quipped that perhaps she was growing paranoid in her old age but he saw sense in believing her instincts, she had much experience after all, and had grunted in agreement with her. She had set up wards for warning if anyone unwanted approached too close. A very sensible precaution, Elessar had agreed. When she was done, reaching the river, she had dropped her arms to her sides and with a grin had thanked him for his company and help. He had nodded, given her a respectful Warder’s bow as well as a returning grin, and had then left. Even now though the feeling of something.. off.. held him in its grasp and he was unable to shake the feeling. They were too far south still for Shadowspawn to come upon them.. but even so, his Warder instincts told him to be alert. He did not get any sleep and in the end gave up, getting up from his blankets and heading for Stormbreaker tethered close by. His warhorse was a little skittish and it made Elessar a little wary. Where was the danger out there? Stormbreaker was an experienced warhorse of many years and would only start shuffling restlessly when danger was near. Grabbing his sword, he walked toward one of the guards and spoke a few words. The other Gaidin shared Elessar’s concern, there was a feeling of danger in the air, but he had seen nothing untoward. They could hear the horses nervous near the edge of the clearing. The river flowed swiftly in a curve beside and behind them but even so Elessar eyed it critically as if waiting for shadows to suddenly appear from water’s edge. Am I just imagining things? Am I too becoming paranoid? He had gotten used to trusting his Warder instincts over the years, but perhaps he was overreacting in this case.. He stood silent for several minutes, his eyes sweeping over the darkness, and was just about to head across the camp to speak to the other guard when.. ..light rocketed into the sky along a point on the distant boundary! ● The warning Wards snapped in dozens of places at once. He heard Calia yell "TO ARMS!", her voice was distinct, and the whole camp came to life! Bright white light illuminated a circle around the camp in an instant. Beyond it, darkness closed in. Elessar rushed through the camp toward where Calia’s voice could be heard above the growing mayhem. "...Trollocs!" Calia bellowed, as the sound of thudding hoofs and snorting, snarling beast noise wound towards them through the darkness, simultaneously sparking and cutting through a moment of useless disbelief. Shadowspawn! ● Elessar was more than surprised to see them so far south, they were after all still many day’s march south of the Saldaean border, but he had no time to reflect further. Trollocs were storming towards their camp and Elessar and the other Warders prepared to confront them. The Aes Sedai closed ranks, standing shoulder to shoulder, while the Gaidin fanned out before them, weapons ready. Elessar placed himself on the side near the front, keeping half an eye on Calia and half on the oncoming Shadowspawn horde. His blade in hand, he cloaked himself in the Flame and the Void, that focused stillness that made the outside world dimmer if one could use such a word, giving him added concentration for what he was to do. One moment.. two.. three.. and then the first of the huge beasts breached the circle of light surrounding the camp, emerging with their weapons held high, ferocious, bloodthirsty grins on their faces. In a coordinated defence the Aes Sedai threw the One Power at the Shadowspawn while the Warders attacked from the side. Fireballs lit the sky as Elessar’s blade cut into a large beast with the horns and face of a goat, slicing deeply into its upper torso. The beast, bleeding heavily, swung its gigantic axe at the Warder but Elessar ducked and rolled to the side out of reach. Regaining his feet in a smooth motion he came at the beast again and this time drove his sword into the neck of the snarling Trolloc which dropped to the ground dead. Elessar turned his gaze toward Calia and the other Aes Sedai amidst thunder and lightning in the sky, deadly bolts of light crashing down on the Shadowspawn, and more fireballs. The sky rained fire. The Aes Sedai were fighting hard, Calia near their front, her Battle Ajah features set as she confronted the evil creatures. Another Trolloc, this one with an eagle’s head but with hairy arms the size of logs and swinging a deadly mace came at Elessar and so he turned to face it head on. His sword slashed and cut at the beast, using advanced sword forms, and he managed to slide under the Trolloc’s swing. The beast was wounded but growled in anger and pain as it came at the Warder again. ● Elessar used all his strength and experience but the much larger opponent was persistent and the Gaidin was hard pushed to overcome him even if the beast was slower. He managed it in the end, with a clever strike which went inside the Trolloc’s guard, but panted afterwards, feeling wariness creeping over him, missing yet again the added strength from an Aes Sedai Bondholder. He was determined to fight on though and after a few large breaths rushed back toward the Aes Sedai. He saw then that Calia was at the front, near the onrush of the Shadowspawn, and he joined her as a woman’s voice screamed for the Sisters to join her. Another Trolloc came at him, this one wielding a huge broadsword, but Elessar ducked in time and then sidestepped and, his blade whistling deftly in the air, swung his sword at the beast crippling its leg. It crashed to the ground growling in pain and the Warder’s sword swung in a deadly arc as it cut off the beast’s head. Neither was alone; they stood together, Elessar and Calia, as more of the Trollocs came rushing at them all. Calia let weaves fly fast as she stepped back towards the waiting Greens.. Elessar remained by her side as they stepped back, saw her momentary savage grin as they exchanged a quick look. The grin mirrored his. The danger was far from over. He saw a Myrddraal wearing black armour with overlapping scales gliding in from the shadows, his black cloak unmoving, his black-bladed lethal sword raised high. Behind him came more onrushing Trollocs, heavily-armed beasts with ferocious grins and snarls. Even so, working together, in tandem, Elessar felt confident they would prevail! ● His name was Sevram Fahlehre and he was the Mayor and Military Commander of the city of Mehar. A man of fifty years or so he had grey in his hair, the bold and prominent nose of his kind, and slightly upturned, almond-shaped eyes. Like most Saldaean men had a long mustache (which he was very proud of) and he was dressed in Saldaean fashion which for his station also meant a decorative overcoat and a ceremonial sash. He was a very confident and stubborn man who had stayed as mayor and military commander for over two decades. In this time he had made some enemies (it was impossible not to) but had showed political acumen and cunning as well as proficient military strategy skills and so he had no rivals for his position. He was a concerned man now, however. Reports of conflict to the south and west in the nation had reached his ears. He had also been told by his spies in the Cordamora Palace in Maradon that the Queen was not acting on those reports (apparently she called them ‘embellished rumours’) even though many believed them. The reports are true. Sevram felt it in his bones. The Shadow had plagued them all for generations, with raids and skirmishes, but this was something different. It appeared to be a coordinated effort to weaken Saldaea - and if Saldaea fell, the Borderlands would be in trouble. We will then all be in dire straits. He had confided in his politcal advisors and explained his grave concern but several of them did not believe him and said it was wisest to follow the Queen’s advice: namely to do nothing down south; keep protecting the city. He had always been a loyal man and he did not wish to go against orders from Maradon but his concern grew as the weeks went by and new reports came in and finally he made the decision to raise the Mehar Garrison. He intended to do the unthinkable: against the Queen’s orders he intended to march the garrison and legions south towards where the reports indicated armies of Shadowspawn were massing. He was going to fight for his homeland, come what may! ● Stroking his long mustache, lost in deep thoughts, he stood on his balcony for a long time as the evening breeze made the Saldaean banners atop his mansion ripple like waves. He gazed out at the city in the darkness of the night, the city he loved more than life and which he had protected for decades, wondering when the Queen would send soldiers to arrest him. For just as he had spies in her household he knew she had some in his. She would know of his plans and would not be best pleased. Not at all. He had made his mind up though and would not be convinced otherwise. Protecting his homeland came before everything else. His plan was to leave for the south the following afternoon accompanied by most of his garrison. He would leave one company behind to defend Mehar, that should be sufficient, but the rest of the legions were coming with him. Three thousand armed soldiers in all. We will try and recruit more men as we march southwards, he had told his captains. If any of them thought their commander was reckless, none said so. Perhaps some had small doubts but he did not think it likely. They had fought the Shadow several times over the years and were loyal to him, their leader and commander. They too believed the reports from the south. They agreed that the Shadowspawn threat needed to be dealt with, regardless of risk and orders from the north. Such loyalty moved him - and made him proud. ● Sevram finally closed the balcony door behind him and walked quietly across the living room floor, past his work desk which had several maps of Saldaea laid out, to his bedroom. Removing his clothes, gazing proudly for a moment at the old painting of a famous battle scene on the wall depicting Saldaean valour and victory against the Shadow, he blew out the candle light on his bedside table and lay down in his bed pulling the sheets on top of him. The room was now dark and silent. Staring pensively up at the ceiling, he thought of his wonderful grandchildren, Anthar of five years and Celiah of three years, both playful, innocent and adoring, who he would have to say goodbye to in the morning. They always brought smiles to his face and warmth to his heart. He thought also of his son, Benthar, of whom he was very proud, a military captain who was second in command of a company in the third Legion. He had begged his father to come along but Sevram had refused. He was needed here in Mehar, he had said. The old commander knew there was a chance he would not be coming back from the south. And if that happened, it comforted him to know his son would protect the family. Finally he whispered a prayer to his dead wife of many years, his beautiful Dahlia, who had been the light of his life, the brightest part of his existence. It was a nightly ritual that he never skipped and it always brought a tear to his eyes. Closing his eyes at last.. ..those same eyes widened in utter disbelief, however, a few moments later when the deadly knife was pushed into his heart! ● A hand pressed down hard over his mouth so his screams were not heard.. his legs and arms thrashed uncontrollably.. and in the few seconds it took for him to die Sevram could only wonder incredulously in despair how - HOW!! - it was possible that he had neither seen nor heard the assassin enter his bedroom! Soon it was all over. His eyes stared unseeingly from his face, the light of the world lost to him, his mouth slack, his entire body stiff in death. Blood flowed from the lethal wound in his torso where the poisoned knife had struck. The Gray Man nodded to himself. Mission accomplished. Leaving the body where it was, removing the dagger carefully and sheathing it, he disappeared in the same swift and unnoticeable way he had appeared and none of the mayor’s personal guards standing outside could ever say they had seen even a glimpse of an assassin. One of the Soulless, the Gray Man had given his soul to the Great Lord several years before and in return had been given the ability to move almost invisible among men. Even the gaze of alert men would slide right over one such as he. It pleased him because it meant he could carry out his tasks - as an assassin of the Shadow - more efficiently. He left the city of Mehar without having been seen by anyone. A slight ripple in the air, as if turning a touch of breeze in upon itself. A momentary twisting of light in the Shadows if anyone had been able to notice. With their commander assassinated and lengthy investigations set in motion, they would be in turmoil for a good while. The Mehar Garrison would not be going south. ● ”Make sure the Sword sings in the Night For the Shadow never Sleeps.” Old Saldaean proverb The Third Age ▀▄
  21. .. A Broken Bond: Part 1 - Destruction and Disbelief .. ►▼◄ Lost in intense, vivid, and powerful Dreams, painful - ever so painful - Memories of the Past flashed again in Elessar’s mind, like needles piercing his brain.. His muscles twitched involuntarily and he trembled in his almost feverish Dreams.. Memories… ● In that timeless period between one second and the next, the Warder-Bond snapped, like a razor sharp 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. And disbelief! 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 knew some tactics and were brutal 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, some also human - Darkfriends! - , 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 emerald eyes staring into nothingness, the deadly arrows protruding from her body. 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 journeys and missions, 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 - and their allies - 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 followed some tracks and had stumbled upon the creatures, heading foolishly into an ambush - 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, partially focused on the next part of their mission, 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 good number of them with the One Power just as others fell to Elessar’s deadly sword-action some distance away. He was driven apart from his Bondholder but there was nothing he could do about it as he fought hard with the Shadowspawn before him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her fight proficiently as well and seemed more than capable. A momentary lapse of concentration due to exhaustion, however, made her suddenly trip over a fallen body and that was enough for her to let her defences down for just a second; two deadly poisoned arrows, whether by intent or sheer luck, found their mark in her upper torso, her Warder too far away to intervene. Death took her swiftly. 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 Aes Sedai carefully to rest on the bloodied ground, he picked up his sword and turned to face the remaining half-standing Trollocs some way 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 of Kandor threw himself into the Shadowspawn with no regard for his own safety. He was a harbinger of death. ▀▄
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