I just got a google search about my stories.

They are quite old (5+ years), and I would like to know who is reading them. So, if you did, please drop me a line, Ayende@ayende.com

Had a really busy week. Managed to get myself in a serious accident (my first and hopefully last) riding the bus. Pretty stupid affair with a drunk driver hitting the bus. I'm fine, but I broke my glasses and got a bump on my head and ass; I also managed to complete reading the entire Wheel of Time saga (10 books in English, 20 in Hebrew, nearing 10,000 pages), the Hebrew translations sucks, they should've let a fan that read the English books proof read it. (Hint: Me :-) )

But even with a flawed translation, I read better in Hebrew than in English (even when I sometime need to translate to English and again to Hebrew to get the original meaning. Literal translations can ruin a book.) and Robert Jordan is an awesome writer. Amazon.co.uk says that Knife Of Dreams should be out in 6 months and 29 days. I get a get-out-of-jail card in 5 months and 2 days, so I should have enough time to read it properly (meaning three or four times alone, with a full reading of all the books and full reading after I digested it. I'm not joking, I gave up nearly a year of my life to those books, and they are the main reason that I learn English, so I fully intend to let them occupy me for a month or two.)

On other news, this is how the bus looked like when it was over, the damage was done by my head, but I'm more or less all right.

I think that I blogged before about The Wheel Of Time (Amazon).

Those are some great books, and I used to read them quite often some years ago. I thought that I'm free of the Dark One (Robert Jordan :-) ) But a chance encounter with New Spring in a bookstore a couple of weeks ago changed all of that.

This past weekend I read nearly three of the books ~2800 pages, and I can't seem to stop. This has to be the tenth time or more that I read those books, but I can't help myself.

OTOH, I do seems to notice more patterns (pun intended, those who read WoT will understand) than I used to.

Great books, so little time...

Even without editings, posting those stories took some time, and the length of some of them astound me, the last two in Towers of Midnight are each 100 pages long (meaning that the full Tower of Midnight is actually a fair sized book), this is scary.

[I think that I just created a stress test to my blog software and any aggerators that are reading this - some of those stories are close to 0.5Mb]

I'm very pleased to find all of that again, I've some more stories somewhere on my HD that I'll search and post if I can find them. (Again, the backup cd is gone and the HD crashed.

My heartfelt gratitude to the Dragon's Library and to Ulrike Großmann for preserving those stories.

All in all I posted ~30 stories, represnting nearly 3 years of works and dedication for the Wheel Of Time. Only 0 years, 7 months, and 17 days to go until Knife of Dreams is out...

[Originally posted on as Barid Bel Medar @ Sometime on 1998]

I got (slightly) tired of writing about our well know characters, this story takes place about 500 years before the books, and tells the story of the impossible love of two people, Selar and Dal. It took me more than 25 hours of writing, (not in a row, luckily) And I think it's as good story as I ever wrote.

 

---

The Aes Sedai opened her eyes carefully, the last memory she had was of pain, seering pain. Claws tearing her flesh, canine teeth sinking into her shoulder. The flash of a black night sword stabbing through her stomach. And the sight of an eyeless fade growling in satisfaction as it pulled out the sword.

She was lying in a bed, and above her a ceiling's dark stone that was smoother than any craftsman could ever do. The bed was soft, and she was covered with three or four blankets. She didn't recognize the fur they were made of, but it was soft and pleasant. Trying to sit up was surprisingly easy, she felt weak, but none of the injuries she'd taken left a scar on her skin. Healing, she thought, only Healing could have saved one from a wound that was caused by a sword that was forged in Thakan'dar. But there was no one to Heal her, she should have been dead. A single lamp gave all the light, surprisingly strong for one, there was no windows.

She rose from the bed, the room that held her was perfectly round, there was a tray with food and wine and water on a small table, and a dress and a shift was neatly folded on the chair nearby. She put on the dress and the shift hastily, red faced. It wasn't any linen she knew, though it was smooth as silk. When she finished dressing, there was no stockings, or shoes, she turned to observe the room. It was certainly comfortable, though small, with no luxury beyond what was necessary. The chair and thetable were the only pieces of furniture in the room, plain pale wood. It took her some time to notice the one thing the room lacked. There was no exit. She calmed herself quickly, if needed, she could carve herself a way out with the Power. How did I come here? That question was the most important. Her stomach rumbled suddenly, and she turned to the table. She didn't think she could touch saidar anyway, she was too weak for it. Later, she decided, first I must eat.

There was enough on the plate for five or six hungry men, whoever made it knew how much energy Healing took. But she was still surprised to see that she ate everything that was on the table and was still hungry. The food, like everything else in this strange room was good but plain. But she was so hungry she would have eaten it even if it had been the worst meal she had had in her life. "Light, I think I could eat a Trolloc right now." she murmured, quite loudly.

"I don't recommend it, Selar. Trollocs aren't really all that tasty. I have a sheep for you, if you're ready to eat something that didn't came from the Dark One," said a mocking voice behind her. She jumped to her feet, her heart racing.

The man behind her was vaguely familiar, maybe two or three inches above average height, with brown hair. His eyes were pale blue, almost azure, and the contrast between his eyes and hair made him look exotic. He had a wide mouth, with a mocking grin on his lips, he also had a hawk nose and high cheek bones. His hair was done in Arafellian style, many thin braids with a bell at the end of each braid. She had never met anyone like him in her life, she would have remembered him, for his eyes if for nothing else, but he was somewhat familiar. Right now she cared nothing about it, he held another plate in his hands, loaded with as much food as the first one. Her stomach rumbled again, as if she hadn't eaten in days. The man arched an eyebrow and put the plate on the table. Seating on the bed, he made a sign for her to eat.

He was obviously amused by the way she attacked the food. She didn't care what he thought of her, light, but she was hungry. "Who are you?" she tried to ask. "How do you know my name?"

"Later, Selar," he said, his smile widening, "Finish eating first." His voice was familiar too, though she didn't knew why. She looked at the table, more than half the food wes gone. But she didn't think she could eat anymore, not in the next hour or so. Then she would be hungry again.

"That is enough," she said, "now we can talk." She tried to make it sound like a fact, she hadn't been Aes Sedai for long, she was risen to the shawl the day heescaped, and she insisted that she would take part in bringing him back. She wanted him to suffer, for all the pain he had given her.

"You know me, Selar," the man said, he folded his hands in his lap and leaned against the wall of the room. She stared at him for a moment, then at the walls.

"There is no way in, how did you enter?" she asked, she would have touched saidar and pry the answers loose from him if she wasn't so weak.

"Have you forgotten me already?" he said, but she had never met him in his life, "Now do you know me?" His voice changed, became slightly higher, in a different accent, a voice she did recognize.

"You!" She gasped, it did explain everything. "Dal!" She didn't care about being too weak to touch saidar, didn't care about him being stronger than her even when it didn't take all of her strength to rise from the bed. She launched herself at him, fingernails searching his eyes.

He caught her hands easily, and forced her back. "Stop this, Selar. I don't know whatyou are so angry about, but -"

"You don't know what I'm angry about? You lied to me, cheated me, and half the White Tower. You killed ten sisters I know about. And ran away when you had all but promised to be my warder." The last had hurt more than the rest, she wanted him to be her warder, more than anything in the world. And he said he would wait for her being Aes Sedai, she knew he had refused offers from several Aes Sedai. But on the day she was tested, while she was still shocked and afraid from the test for being Aes Sedai, he ran away, after murdering ten Aes Sedai. "You are a liar, Dal. And a thief, and a murderer. And there are also half a dozen other things I probably don't know about that you did. By the laws of every nation you are ought to be hanged." The last came as a hiss, she tried to hit him with a fist, but he simply caught her fist in his hand, he showed no sign tht he even noticed it. With him, it was a reflex.

He rose from the bed, "We will talk later, Selar," he said, his face and voice were cold, "You need to rest." With that, he walked to one of the walls, the stone seemed to... vibrate under his hand, and he stepped through the stone. She tried to follow him, but when she tried to walk through the stoneit was only stone, the only result were few bruises.

"You're Aes Sedai," she reminded herself, "you're not a child anymore, Aes Sedai." With that, she took one of the plates and threw it on the wall. It took her time to regain coherency, but when she did, the room, so neatly arranged before, was a mess. She had somehow managed to break the chair, and the table had been thrown at the wall more than once, save the bed, nothing was left untouched.

She felt a stab of guilt, she was never like this. But the truth about Dal had hurt her more than anything else could. And he had shamed the entire White Tower. That a man that could channel had been training to become a warder for more than three years, without anyone once suspecting him was more than shaming. And every one in the Tower knew that she wanted Dal to be her warder, she had became the joke of the Tower. At least he had the courtesy to wait until she was tested for the shawl, and passed. She didn't think that she would have ever become Aes Sedai with this in her past. And the Amyrlin threatened to still her. As if she thought she had had the slightest knowledge about Dal's abilities. She had every reason to be angry with him.

She wanted him back in the Tower, gentled, so he would feel pain as much as she did. Had she not already chosen and had been accepted to the Blue Ajah she would have chosen red, because of him.

She sank to the bed, she didn't know why he had run away, or why he killed those sisters, ten sisters, each was killed with the One Power, none but him could have done it. And the novice guarding the ter'angreal no one knew the purpose of was found unconscious in her position. He stole ter'angreal from the Tower, five of them. None knew what they did, but every sister feared that one of them or more might be an angreal, or even more frightening, a sa'angreal that worked for men that could channel. With this, he might be stronger than thirteen sisters, he would be unstoppable.

The gasp made her rise her head, Dal stood near the wall, and stared at the room wide eyed. "Apparently, it was a good idea to leave," he said, "I brought you some food, if you're hungry again." He was carrying a bowl in his hands, a soup of some kind. He looked around at the ruined room, there was no place to put the bowl save the floor. The table rattled and rose up in the air, without a hand touching it. It turned and settled down on the floor. Dal put the bowl on the floor, ignoring her. She sat frozen, she had never seen him channeling before, and knowing that someone can touch saidin, and actually seeing him touch the tainted male half of the True Source were two different things.

"Now we can talk, Selar," Dal said, "You can clean this mess later, if you want to be a little child I can leave you here until you calm down."

"Why did you kill those sisters?" Selar said, "They did nothing wrong to you. And why that way?" She rose and walked to the table, only then realizing she had no chair. Dal saw her problem, and moved the table so she could use the bed as a chair. He used the power again, and she had to hide a shiver.

"They were reds. And they found out what I really am, so..." He shrugged as ifit was the most natural thing in the world, the Aes Sedai he killed were torn apart, limb from limb.

"How? No one even suspected that you could channel for three years. How could they know? How?!" She was in fury. She didn't believe him, if he had hidden it for so long how did they uncover him? "Did others found out about you before? You killed them also?"

"No one found out about me, ever," he said, angrily. Then shook his head, "It's a long story, why don't you start eating while I'll tell you about it?" She nodded, he never was ready to be pressed, but if she kept the leash loose he usually did what she wanted of him.

"It started when I was nineteen, I lived in a small village in Arafel when Trollocs raided the village. They took us to the Blight. The Myradraal, he meant to take Elar and have the rest of us watch him." There was pain in his voice, "Elar, she and I were supposed to marry that spring. I tried to stop them, but I couldn't. The Myrdraal told the Trollocs to bring me closer so I could see better what he was going to do to Elar. I remember that I reached out and grabbed something, I didn't knew what it was, only that it kept me from going mad." Selar never thought that saidin could keep a man sane. "It was liquid fire in my veins, and I used it to destroy the Trollocs. The Myrdraal I skinned, that was what he promised that he would do to me, after Elar had died." He stopped to take a breath. Selar had to remind herself how much him running away had hurt her. She wanted to take him in her arms and promise him that everything would be fine. There was so much pain in his voice.

"Elar, she didn't even want to look at me afterward. I brought them out of the Blight and left, I went to the White Tower. At first I thought that if I would turn myself in, if they... then I might came back and return to Elar." He took deep, ragged breath. His eyes were closed. "But saidin called to me, and I couldn't refuse its call. After the third time I knew that I couldn't live without the Source."

"But you still came to the White Tower," Selar noted. "Why?" She hadalmost finished the bowl of soup.

"Do you know a better place to learn about the One Power?" He didn't wait for her answer, "I went to the White Tower, and asked to be trained as a warder."

She remembered the day he arrived, a young man that had nothing but skin on his bones. With dead eyes, he said that his village was destroyed in a Trollocs raid. He also said he came from Saldaea, not from Arafel. He wanted to be a warder, to fight the Shadow, as he said. And had almost black eyes, a typical Saldaean. The Tower was ready to accept him, she rememberd the day he came, she saw him when he entered the Tower. Everyone that entered the White Tower was nervous, but that man had enterd the Tower as if he owned the place.

The warders said that they rarely had had such a good student, he knew only little about swords when he arrived, but he learned. And he was very good at learning. After half a year in the Tower he had some flesh on him, but he still had that dead look in his eyes. He wasn't interested in anything save his sword. The One Power fascinated him, but unlike most men, he wasn't afraid of it.

The young men trained to be warders were almost the only place were Novices and Accepteds could talk with men in their age. But Dal never seemed interested in girls, he was just polite enough, nothing more. And he fascinated her, she had never met a man that could simply ignore women. She had made a decision one day, she would make him laugh again.

It had taken her more than a year, but she did it. She thought that if she would have known how hard it would be she would never have made that promise. But the joy she felt when she heard him laughing was worth all the time she spent on it. He had such a lovely laugh, but more than all, her reward was seeing that dead look dissipate from his eyes. Half a year later she was tested for the shawl, and passed, at the same day he left the Tower.

"I learned much there," his voice startled her from the memories, "not only the sword." He smiled, not a pleasant smile, "Earth is a talent men have, and I have a ... trick, I can pass right through stones or metals." She remembered how he had exited the room before, and shivered. "I read everything in the White Tower library about saidin, most of it was just useless garbage about the breaking, and why every man that can touch saidin must be killed." His voice was full of bitterness. "But I found a few books that could help me, mostly about the Age of Legends, but there were few recent essays about..." He caught the look on her face and stopped. "Never mind, you won't be interested in it."

"That was why you stole those ter'angreals?" Selar asked, "Was it worth the life of ten Aes Sedai?"

"It wasn't I who killed those Aes Sedai," Dal said with a sign, "It was an accident."

"And you expect me to believe you?" she asked scornfully, "They were torn apart, they found Lealan's head fifty feet from her body." So the Amyrlin had told her, and no Aes Sedai could lie.

"Those ter'angreal I took, one of them was supposed to give me access to saidar. If I would have known how it will give me this access I would never have used it." He sounded as if he was telling her the truth, on the other hand, he had been lying to everybody for three years, all the time he was in the Tower.

"No man can touch saidar, you fool!" she snapped at him, did he thought her a fool? "That is something even the such of you should know."

He took something from his belt pouch, a wide bracelet, one that belonged to a man. It looked like glass, but nothing could break it. Inside the glass, floating within in, there was the ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai. "This forces a link between any female that can hold saidar and the man that is using this ter'angreal. I never thought about how it would give men the power to draw saidar." He threw the bracelet at her, she caught it out of instinct. By what she knew of this ter'angreal nothing she could do to the thing would have any affect on it, but she still didn't like to touch it. "I broke the link as soon as I understood what it was doing," Dal continued, "but those Aes Sedai already knew, I had no choice but to kill them. I had taken a sa'angreal from there too, but it was still hard to kill them." He didn't even blink saying it! "And about my methods, Selar. It doesn't matter to the dead how they died."

"Even if we assume that you had to kill them, what was so important to you so you had to steal it?" She glared at him, "You took a sa'angreal, a ter'angreal that created a link between man and women, what more?" She had to know what those ter'angreals that he took did. None of them worked for women.

"The one that look like a flower was supposed to protect me from the taint," he said, he suddenly looked as if he was about to collapse, "It creates the illusion that saidin is clean when I use it. But it's illusion only, the taint is still there, sipping into me, even if I don't feel it." He looked at her then, with eyes that were no longer dead, eyes she almost wished would be dead. All the tiredness in the world, all the pain, all the sorrow were reflected from his eyes. Mixed with that strange,stubborn look he had sometimes, the determination not to surrender. In the Tower she had sometimes wondered what he was so determined about. But the only time she asked him he laughed and said that he was determined not to fall in love with her. She laughed at his answer, she remembered in fondness, and called him a fool for trying to fight the Wheel of Time. Now she knew, and her own words became bitter.

"The others, what do they do?" she asked quietly, it took all the will she had, not going to him and hug him tightly.

"Aes Sedai to the bone," Dal murmured, and she winced, from him, it was more than a curse. Even though he said it in neutral voice, she would have preferred to hear hate, or fear. Something, save this coldness.

"This is a sa'angreal, one that were made for men," his smile was merely showing his teeth, he wasn't amused at all, "with this, I'm more than strong enough, stronger than any thirteen women." He held a small statue, a man, carved in wood or maybe stone, holding one hand in greeting.

"If you can use the sa'angreal to draw enough to be stronger than a circle of thirteen women," she started, it was the Tower's worsed nightmare, it wasn't a surprise for her that she did shiver. On the other hand, she had never been afraid of him, not even when she learned that he could channel, "Why did you have to kill the Aes Sedai?"

"It wasn't this sa'angreal I used to kill the Reds," he empathized the last word, for the like of him, there was a difference, "I found this sa'angreal later. When I killed them I had to use a lesser one, barely a sa'angreal at all, it was more close to angreal's level than to sa'angreal. I left it in the Tower when I found this." This he put back in his pouch, no wonder he didn't trust her with it.

"You need to sleep, Selar," he said suddenly, "I didn't heal you so you would die from exhaustion." He took the table and put it near the wall, with his hands, not with the power. She knew that she could never tell him how reliefed she was for this.

"Do you mean to leave me locked in here, Dal?" she asked, she would refuse to show him how this unnerved her.

He looked at her surprised, "You're too weak to touch saidar now, aren't you?" he said. She didn't mean to let him know that even with saidar in her she couldn't do it, Earth belonged to men, not to women. "I will leave it open, Selar." This time, when he touched the wall, the rock didn't seem to become liquid again, it was ripping open, until it was a door, tall enough for him to pass comfortably. "Sleep well, Selar," he said, "Healing take much of your strength." As if she didn't know that.

He went through, and the lamp's light winked out. The only light that was left came through the door. She rose to her feet angrily, and only then she remembered how weak she was. He was right, she wasn't sure that she could make it to the door, nor that she could even undress by her own. She lied on the bed in her cloths, if he thought that she would ask his help he was wrong. The bed was soft after all those night of sleeping on the ground, chasing him. Or even compared to the bed Accepteds had. She fell asleep almost immediately, not caring where she was or that he was so close to her. Well, she did care about it, he was too far for her to feel comfortable. She wanted him on her side.

---

 

Dal stood near Selar's bed, she breathed slowly, he unraveled all the lights save one, and there was almost total darkness in the place he called home. For him, it was no problem. Saidin filled him, and even the darkness that surrounded him was bright as daylight when he held saidin, he could afford himself that moment of pleasure, looking at her. She was the most irritating woman he had ever met, she had a talent to make him do whatever she wanted. No one had ever done such a thing, not even Elar. He chased the thought out of his head, he knew where it might lead. There was no doubt about her being the strangest creature that he had ever met, she had tied a string around his heart, a heart that he guarded better than his secret. Sometimes he wondered about it, and then released it as unimportant, it didn't matter how she did it. Facts were facts, he had toyed with the idea to stay in the Tower more than once, to be her warder. But he couldn't. The taint, burning inside him, was the only reminder he needed. As much as he wanted to, he would never let himself kill her, never be another Kinslayer.

He could never do her any such thing, he was a man that could channel, the future only held madness for him. He couldn't force her to be bonded to him, not ever. Even now, when she knew, he couldn't do it. He had made vast research in the Tower, doors wasn't something that could stop him, nor guards. And he knew how to create a warder bond with saidin, but he would never do it. Not to her, any other Aes Sedai he hated with passion, but her... it was different with her, much different. He was as quiet as death itself as he left the room. The sleeping woman left in the dark, to her dreams. Dreams that he would never allow to become true.

---

 

When Selar woke the next morning she woke into darkness, there wasn't even a shred of light. Hastily she opened herself to saidar, she had needed that sleep, even if she would never admit it to anyone save herself. And a globe of white light appeared. She hated the dark. And Dal knew it.

She wasn't in the room she'd awoken in the day before. That was the first thing she noticed. The bed was much larger, though still plain, Did this man have nothing decorated? she wondered, the second thing she noticed was that she was lying on the bed in her skin alone. She had gone to sleep with her cloths she was sure of it. He must have undressed her, her cheeks felt like fire.

"So you're awake," Dal said, he was seating in a chair, watching her with one of those small smiles of his, she threw the pillow at him. He caught it in mid air. "Dress yourself, you're leaving," he ordered, with that he stepped again through the bloody rock and were gone. Her clothes, those she had worn before the shadowspawn attacked.

Twenty-seven sisters, all of them strong in the power, thirteen Reds, five Greens and the rest from her own ajah. The warders had followed him all the way from the Tower. When it was clear that his destination was the Blight the Reds immediately stated that he must be a DarkFriend, Selar didn't believed it. Reds could be as good as Whitecloacks when it came to finding Darkfriend in every man that could channel. She remembered an argument between two of the warders, it was always dangerous to enter the Blight, but even the warders thought it safe when so many of them were Aes Sedai. They were wrong. A message that was left on her pillow, in Dal's hand writing, had warned them that if they would enter the Blight they would die. The warders had been watching, and nothing could escape a warder eye. But Dal did, and to think that he had entered all the way to her tent and got away with this had set every Aes Sedai in fury, but most of all her. He had left a rose there, too. And that angered her more than anything else.

Dal was right, as it turned out. As soon as they were deep enough in the Blight so they couldn't flee in time they were constantly attacked. Trollocs, Fades, other shadowspawn that no one had seen since the Trolloc Wars. They had no other choice but to stand and fight, and all along they could see a tall figure on a horse, watching them. Every sword that had been aimed at her was diverted, and every shadowspawn died in flames. Dal didn't bother to protect the others. Shadowspawns had tried to attack him too, but lightning stroke them down, sometimes they were swallowed in flames or simply exploded. She had gone beyond fury, and with all the amount of saidar she could draw she striked at him, a lightning as wide as a tree strucrk him. He had only an instant warning, not enough to protect himself. And the shadowspawns gathered over his body, they left them. The warders that survived didn't bother to talk, they hit the horses with all their might, and all of them began to flee the Blight. They passed maybe half a mile before the Blight itself started to rise against them, trees tried to catch them, the ground itself seemed to be full of traps to catch a horse's leg. Her horse fell suddenly, and she landed heavily on the ground. In that moment the shadowspawn returned, she remembered facing them with the power, until that Myrddraal put his sword in her ribs. Then it all darkened, but she thought she remembered Dal appearing, pulling his sword out of the Myradraal's back, he scoped her up in his arms, calling her a fool, and then it was only the darkness that swallowed her.

She stared at the riding dress she held, it was the one she had worn, but there were no stains, not even one cut. And no signs of someone fixing them. Saidin again, but she wore them anyway, she couldn't let him think that she was afraid of him. She stared at the room when she finished dressing, she though it was his room. Two swords lied in the corner, even in the Tower, although he was supposed to be a Saldean he insisted on learning the manner of fighting with two swords. There was a pile of books on the floor. She took one of them and opened it, "Saidin after the Breaking of the World" it was titled, by an Aes Sedai that lived more than thousands years ago, according to the date on it.

"Not a good book," Dal said from behind her, "a Red wrote it. But she mentioned certain things that men that can channel did, from walking through stones," he smiled shortly, not a pleasant smile, "to knowing when a woman is holding the True Source." Selar stared at him, if he could tell when she was holding saidar... It wasn't a pleasant thought.

"Come, you are leaving now," Dal said.

"Leaving? To where? Where are we anyway?" she asked, if he thought that she would just follow his orders he was about to have a surprise.

"You're in my home, Selar. And I'm taking you to the Blight border, you should be able to walk safely from there." he said, he smiled no longer.

The swords rose from the floor and floated in the air to him, it made her shiver. He was there instantly, "I will never harm you, Selar, you have my word on it," he whispered, his hand caressing her cheek. She stared at him, it was just like he was before she found out about him. Then he blinked, and moved away, hard and cold all of a sudden. "We need to go now." He took the swords from the floor, where they had fallen, and donned them on his shoulder.

She nodded, she had made up her mind about him, and the laws could go to the Pit of Doom as far as she cared. But there were still few things she needed to know. "Why did you came to the Blight, Dal?" she asked. For a moment or two she thought he might refuse to answer her.

"Do you know a better place for me to be?" he asked. "What can I damage here that isn't worth destroying? Here, there is nothing I care about, here I can go mad without anybody being hurt."

"Dal," she started, then fell silent, unable to continue. "you gave me a note, warning me not to go to the Blight. How did you know? The Reds thought you are a -"

"DarkFriend?" he said in a flat voice. "I'm not, though I don't think you would take my word for it. Anyone who enters the Blight is taking a risk. And anyone fool enough to enter in such a force... you were spotted miles away. And so many Aes Sedai..." He didn't have to continue. "I made sure that they would take none alive, that is the best I could do for them, Selar," he said, seeing her reaction, "I could save none but you." He moved to the wall, and again there was an opening growing wider in the stone. "Any other questions?" He led her during a seemingly endless corridor, at some point he stopped, looking at the wall. "Wait here, Selar. It would take a moment only." He sank through the stone again. She turned her eyes away hastily, it made her want to vomit.

It did take a moment only, and he brought something back, a small sack he hed in his hand. "It's not far anymore, Selar," he said, his voice sounded sad. This time is was far. They walked for an hour or so before the corridor ended. "Here it is," Dal said, "I was hunting while you were asleep. And I got us horses."

"In the Blight?!" she asked unbelievingly, "There are no horses in the blight, you should know that -" Her breath stopped, he opened another hole in the wall. She had almost gotten used to this, almost, she thought that she could never really get used to man channeling. Two horses stood there, skin black as night and fiery eyes. There was only one way to get horses in the Blight, to steal them, and there was only one creature in the blight you can steal a horse from. "Myradraal's horses," she whispered, no one ever rode Myradraal's horses. No one ever thought of trying.

The horses weren't shadowspawn, she could have sensed it, but they were definitely the finest she ever seen. She'd always loved horses, and they were beautiful horses. "Will they let us ride them?" she asked, she wanted to ride them. They looked like they could run faster than the wind.

"They do, they are just horses, the finest you can find, but still horses," Dal said, "I rode them back here," his eyes shined, "it's like riding on the wind, I think that they could run forever." He put a hand on one of the horses shoulder, the animal looked at him, it looked intelligent.

"Help me with the saddles," Dal said. Selar smiled inwardly, and touched saidar momentary, the saddle floated to him. He accepted it without even blinking, she felt disappointment for a moment, if she had to be nervous about him channeling near her she had every right to expect him to be nervous around her. Only he wasn't, he never was, not even back in the Tower.

After he had saddled both horses he offered her a hand, to help her up. She ignored his hand and climb to the saddle herself, he muttered something about stubborn women that she pretended not to hear. She had her plans for him, and she wouldn't let him escape this. You had to let a man think he had some freedom, or else he might simply tear away the leash from you. And she meant to put Dal in a leash, if he would agree to it or not.

This time Dak took a deep breath, he started to sweat, and the entire left wall rose into the air. It was a huge rock, and it floated in the air just enough for them to pass. "I can hold it for a while," Dal said, his horse trotted forward, "but this isn't easy. Are you coming?" With this, the horse he was riding began to run, she heeled her own horse after him. They were as fast as the wind. The huge rock landed softly on the ground behind her, they were in the Blight, she could feel the taint of the place. Her horse was racing after Dal's. "What are you running from?" she shouted at him.

"The Blight, they know me, they won't let me leave," he shouted right back, "Look." He was right, it happened just as she saw it before, when the blight itself tried to stop them. Fire blazed around them, Dal was channeling, and saidar filled her too, she realized. She had never been so afraid in her life, not even when she thought she was going to die, but the display was marvelous. They rode like the wind, her hair flew back, it was almost like flying. They both channeled, and the Blight gave way before them. Fire and lightnings shot to hit trees that moved, or the shadowspawns that seemed to be everywhere. The earth erupted and sent streams of dirt and fire into the air.

"How far?" she shouted at Dal. They couldn't continue doing this for long. But light, it wasn't something she would ever forget.

"An hour, if the horses can keep on in this rate," he shouted back. "Can you channel for that long?"

She groaned, channeling for so long, with all the power she could draw, would bring her near exhaustion. "I think I can." Their life depended on how long those horses could run. She could remember only how long they ran, channeling with every scrap of saidar she could draw. She had learned how to ignore heat and cold, but she couldn't spare the necessary concentration for it, her face was covered with sweat, the Bight may be in the far north, but they were hot. She lost the sense of time, concentrating on burning everything she saw, after some time she stopped using fire, it was hard for her to do so. Now she used air, a club powerful enough to break bones or kill. Their horses raced like two black ghosts, faster than any normal horse could. The cold wave that hit her was the only thing that told her that they were out of the Blight. The sweat on her face began to freeze.

She pulled the reins hard, and the horse began to stop. She saw Dal from the corner of her eye, he drew one of his swords and hit her horse with it, leaving a red trail. "We are too close to the Blight," he shouted, "they might come after us." Her horse launched itself forward, his speed was unbelievable. At least now they didn't have to channel. And although Dal looked back often there was nothing there to fight.

Finally Dal brought the horses to a stop, near a lake, one of the thousands lakes of Malkier. She nearly fell off the horse, channeling took physical strength, and she had channeled for long. Dal looked even worse than she felt, he slid down the horse and emptied his stomach.

She hurried to him, but he pushed her back. "I'm fine, Selar." He looked like he was about to fall off his feet, but he insisted that they would take the saddles off the horses and tie their legs before he agreed to rest.

"You can go to the Tower from here," he said when they finally sat down, neither one of them had the strength to make a camp, they simply lit a fire and let it burn. It was still not noon, but she felt like she had been working all day. "No one would harm an Aes Sedai here. You might also find some sisters in here so you can have your report sent to the Tower by pigeon."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, "You don't mean to go -" He simply stared at her. "Are you mad?" She winced when she understood what she had said, but went on. "We barely survived going out, and you want to go back on your own?"

"I might be mad," he said, "But Selar, the Blight are the safest place in the world for me." As simple as that.

"No it's not!" she shouted at him, "Do you want to die? Do you?" She rose to her feet, it felt like she was trying to lift a mountain. "I'll not let you die," she said, touching saidar was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. He was on the other side of the fire, but it felt like walking a mile. She sat down near him, close enough that she could touch him. "I'll not let you die, Dal. Do you hear me, I will not."

He made no move for a long time, he didn't even seem to notice her seating next to him. "I'm a dead man already, Selar. Can't you see it? I've been channeling saidin for three years, every time I touch saidin I feel the taint sipping into me." His voice was angry, and full of frustration, and he pointed at the place where he had vomited. "At best I have a few more years, but I could go mad tomorrow, or the day after. I can't have this, don't you understand? I can't live in fear that I would go mad and kill you, I can't live like that."

She didn't really listen to him, only to the sound of his voice, was she doing the right thing? She didn't knew, but she did knew that there was no other way. She wouldn't, couldn't, let him go away. She took his hand in hers and stared at him, the flows she readied were the most complex she had ever woven. "I don't care, Dal. I will not let you die. I can't let you die." She blinked hastily, to make the tears go away, but he saw it.

"Selar," he whispered, he put his finger under her chin and titled her head so she would look at him eye to eye. "Can't you see? There is no other way." Saidar made her more than aware of his touch, she had made up her mind, and channeled, flows of Spirit, for a moment she feared that she was too tired. Then she felt it happening, and let go of saidar. Dal snatched his hands off her.

"A warder bond!" he said, she could feel nothing from him, only that awful tiredness that only reflected hers. No emotions whatsoever reached her through the bond. "Are you a fool, Selar?" he seemed to be wanting to shout, but was unable to spare the strength for it.

"I'm no fool, Dal," she snapped at him, and yawned, she was too tired to fight with him now. "I'm too tired to think straight now, and so are you. I'm going to sleep now." She saw the shock on his face. "You go to sleep too, Dal." she ordered, he was her warder, after all. There was not even a blanket, Dal hadn't thought of it. But neither had she. She lied on the ground and closed her eyes. Light, exhaustion was nothing compared to how she felt.

"You never think straight," Dal said, but she did heard him lying on the ground. The emotionless began to fade slowly, but tiredness was still the strongest thing she felt. And anger, at her, she thought. But woven underneath it all, there was something she couldn't recognize, fear and frustration and hate, this time she was sure it wasn't directed to her, but to himself. She couldn't understand why, and was too tired to think about it. Exhaustion took over, and she fell into sleep. The last thing that registered in her mind was that he had already fell asleep.

It was his wakening that woke her, her entire body ached from sleeping on the ground. By the dark sky they had slept almost the entire day. She sensed no anger in Dal, nor fear or frustration or hate. But she could feel his emotions, it wasn't like before, when no emotion reached her from him. "Why did you do it?" Dal asked, "I can't believe it's just to bring me back to the Tower. Not you."

"Of course not," she said, she had entirely forgotten about the Tower. "I don't want you to be gentled, Dal." He arched an eyebrow.

"Don't you? Why?" All emotions drained from him.

"I love you," she said, "I don't want you to die. Or be hurt. Is there any better reason?" Emotion flooded him, he was surprised, pleased and happy. But more than all, stronger than she could believe was love, a feeling she felt in herself, love strong enough to overpower anything.

"It doesn't matter, Selar," he said, there was no evidence in him for the shock he felt inside. Nothing at all. "I will still go mad, I can't let myself hurt you, you must understand that -"

"Shut up," she commanded, she grabbed a handful of his hair, the bells in his hairs chimed as she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him. She had kissed him before, but never before she could feel what he felt. It was more than strange to feel how he felt her kiss. More than strange, and certainly more than pleasant.

 

---

This story is based on a diary that was found in one of the corners of the White Towerlibrary. The diary belonged to the Accepted Selar, and she wrote in it after she became Accepted. The diary simply stopped shortly after Selar bonded Dal. Selar, of course, is a well known name all through the Borderlands. A heroine that lived between the years 541-568 NE. As Aes Sedai can tell or write no lies, the records dated before Selar became Aes Sedai can be doubted, but not those after her swearing the Three Oaths. It's well recorded that Selar and her warder, whose name was Lar, survived things not even Aes Sedai can. If Lar was actually Dal, then it explains how she survived so many battles. Selar, although belonging to the Blue Ajah, had spent all her life in the Borderlands, fighting the Shadow, and it is confirmed that twice at least she was attacked by large numbers of DarkFriends and shadowspawn, and some unconfirmed rumors even claims that she was attacked by the Black Ajah more than once, and survived. While searching in the White Tower archive I've found two records mentioning a warder to be named Dal, one saying that he was accepted as a student of the warders, the second, an order to find him and bring him back to the Tower, dead or alive. The second order was Sealed to the Flame at the time. No reason was given for the second order.

Selar and Lar died in 568 NE, they were known to have left the army of Malkier and Shienar, only two days ahead of a battle with the largest number of shadowspawns ever seen since Arthur Hawkwings time, maybe even since the Trollocs Wars. Their tracks led straight to the Shadow's army. A DarkFriend that had been in this army was caught. According to him Selar and Lar had both came to the camp, and been taken prisoners and brought to the Shadow's general. Soon after that a huge explosion wiped out most of the army, any living creature twenty miles away died. And the explosion was strong enough to be seen in the Borderlands as well. Selar was a strong Aes Sedai, but nothing she could do could cause such damage to the army. An interesting speculation would be that she and Lar, or Dal, whatever his true name was, had learned to link themselves, and then killed themselves together with the Shadow army. The diary was returned to the Tower together with her and Lar's belongings, with all five stolen ter'angreals as well. Whatever the truth really is, Selar will remain a legend in the Borderlands for as long as memory serves.

Selar's Life and Death
Written by: Verin Sedai

[Originally posted on as Barid Bel Medar @ Sometime on 1998]

What would happen if Rand and Elayne would meet each other in Tal'aran'rhiod? Here is the answer, as always, I hope you will enjoy it.

---

Rand let go of saidin, and the gateway behind him winked out. He wished he knew more about this reflection of the world. He knew some of its rules, most of them came from Lews Therin's memories, but his ignorance bothered him. It was important. He didn't have to look at himself to know that he had changed. He was still at the same height, but dark brown hair replaced his reddish, and his eyes were almost black, the skin were much darker and the body was older, much older, though only twenty more years had shown on it. Lews Therin's body, it happened to him before, when the man had tried to take control on him, it happened more often whenever he came here, and he didn't try to fight it anymore. He was what he was; denying what he was wouldn't change it. Before, when Lews Therin had tried to take over him, he could see the internal fight between them. Here thoughts could change things, could kill you. Two incidents had thought him that. After those incidences he had avoid this place as much as he could. And tried not to think at all as long as he was in this strange world.

The first was when he tried to think about the taint, saidin pulsed in him, and the taint twisted his stomach. He wondered how much he had before he would go mad, how long before he would start to rot. He was ready to return to the real world, in his rooms in Caemlyn, when he passed near a mirror. The shock had cause him to loose control on saidin, and for a heartbeat that last forever the power tried to destroyed him, it was a war he nearly lost at, and the fight was won only by hair width. And left him as weak as a baby.

He left that world as fast as he could. But still had nightmares for days about the face he saw in the mirror. Rotting flesh with red, angry gaps that showed the bones. Only the eyes were saved from the rotting, almost all his face had surrendered to the corruption of the taint. Nightmares that had sent him awake with screams that he could barely stop more than once.

The second incident had happened the next time he had to visit this place. He had kept his thought strictly on one course, finding how many soldiers Sammael had added to his army. He had tried to anyway; he tried not to think at all. But an acid comment Aviendha had long time ago had floated to his mind; that he never seemed to think at all. That was all he thought about, that acid comment, he was sure of it. But he found himself in that snow hut in Seanchan again, Aviendha in his arms, both of them naked.

Light, but it was tempting, he thought, half with regret, half with determination never to let it happen again. He almost stayed there, almost. It wasn't as if she would ever know, or that someone could be hurt from it. But he would know, and he couldn't do it. He hated himself for not surrendering for the temptation, but it would be much worse if he would have. He signed regretfully at the thought, he wished for it more than anything else did. But in his mind, what he did was worse than a rape. No matter if the woman had been real, or a creator of his imagination. She said she would not, and he wouldn't even think of it.

It had changed, now. Min claimed that Aviendha loved him; and Elayne too. And there was only one way she could be so sure of it; she had never met Aviendha in her life. She must have seen it in a viewing. And Min's viewings always came true. Even when you didn't want it to happen. He did want Aviendha and Elayne and Min to love him. But he knew it is a weakness, he knew it would cause him troubles. Many troubles, but his heart was one thing he couldn't order about, and he loved those women with all his heart. Not that he would ever tell this to Min or Elayne or Aviendha, already Min always had her way with him. If he would ever let her know how deeply he loved her she would use it, she wouldn't be able to not use it. Women were all the same about it, and he knew it more than from his memories alone.

A pretty woman is a partner in a dance; two pretty women mean trouble at home, three pretty women are a reason enough to run. It was an old saying in the Two Rivers, but it didn't sound right for him. Maybe it blended with a saying from the Age of Legends. He sometimes had hard time separating Lews Therin's memories from his. And sometimes, like now, they blend together. Elayne's image, for example, he couldn't think of her without remembering Ilyena, they looked so much alike each other that it was a reason enough by itself. But not the sharp, deep pain that followed the other woman's image in his mind. Lews Therin was Kinslayer, not him. Never me, he thought, but the body he used now, the body he took almost anytime he was now in this world, remind him other wise.

I - Lews Therin, had no choice, not one bit more than I do. It happened again, it was as if he started to think about Lews Therin as himself. Maybe they were the same; he was the Dragon Reborn, no doubts about it. And Lews Therin was the Dragon. But he wouldn't follow Lews Therin's fate for the world or the wheel. Nothing worth this price, light burns me, nothing worth all this pain again.

He remembered the pain, remembered so much he didn't want to. But there was knowledge in those memories. Knowledge he had to have, had to use. He had to face the Forsakens, and they had all the knowledge of the Age of Legends. All he had was a pile of memories; sometimes something seemed to alert them, to make him aware of them. But most of the time he wasn't even aware of it. The other day he woke up knowing, knowing that he - Lews Therin, had always love to see Ilyena in green.

And it happened to him again and again ever since Lews Therin appeared in his mind. What was so important in a single yellow rose that he had once gave to a woman her face or name he couldn't remember anymore. But this had slipped to his memories together with knowledge about shadowspawn, and the Forsakens, and the Dark One and the One Power. There was no order in the memories he acquired from Lews Therin, not that he noticed. The memories of battles and a dinner he couldn't eat because he was supposed to be tested tomorrow, to know whatever he could channel. The sense of failure when he was told, at the age of ten, that they couldn't be sure about it. He could dimly remember other tests, other failures, until he stopped coming, he was sure he couldn't channel. And how surprise he was when a man arrived to his house, saying that he sensed someone channeling closely. He was tested and passed that day, and had taken away from home to learn about the power, how he could use it.

So much memories, so much pain, and joy and sorrow and happiness. But there were holes in all those memories, he could remember how he learn to channel, some of it, he was sure that he didn't remember the tenth of it. But in all those memories that slipped by the bar between him and Lews Therin there wasn't a single time he could remember touching saidin while it was still clean. And he searched his mind for this particular memory more than once. And it didn't matter that there were times he remember channeling, he couldn't remember the touch of saidin without the taint.

Rand shook his head in anger; thinking about those memories often led him that way. And he had a target coming here, if he was right he might find Elayne and Aviendha. He had only the slightest clue about where they were now, somewhere in Gehalden by now, he thought, but now there was no reason he wouldn't pick them himself. And, knowing Mat, the man would be grateful for this. Mat didn't like noblewomen, or nobles in general. And ever since Malindra's death he tried to stay clear of Aiels too.

It was a memory he was suddenly aware of, he thought of ways to find Elayne when this came to his mind. A way to use this world to find things you need. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Elayne.

Elayne, I want to be where Elayne is, He ordered, focusing on Aviendha's face as he added her to the order.

Elayne, Aviendha! One woman with blue-green eyes and red hair that fitted to her temper, a second with blue eyes and golden curls. So like another woman he remembered. All his longing to them, all the craving he felt, all the yearning his felt for them. He hadn't seen Aviendha for more than a month and a half by now, Elayne he hadn't seen for more than half a year. And he had missed them so much.

The world moved around him, and he stood in the shadow, unobserved. And stared directly at Elayne's face.

He didn't move, and for long time, very long time, all he could do was to stare at Elayne. Oval face surrounded by golden hair, blue eyes that were now tired and worried, but could be softer than he could ever believe. A mouth that he yearned to kiss and a nose that she usually pulled up at people complete the image. She was so beautiful, so perfect that his heart tried to explode. He thought that his heart might break out of his rib cage. After a moment or ten, when he could see anything beside her face he scanned the place he was in.

A room filled only with old plain chair and shaky table, Egwene was there too, dark hair and eyes, in blue and green dress, and some kind of a vest in red and blue and yellow and green and white and brown and gray.

The amyrlin stole! He thought in shock, wishes could became true here, but he never thought that Egwene wanted to be the Amyrlin Seat, or that Elayne would let her play at being the Amyralin. All it could mean was that she was truly the Amiralyn Seat, how could she-?

Any guess would probably be wrong, and Elayne could tell him how later. He gave a start, and then froze, Elayne didn't notice him, when he saw that Nynaeve was in the room too. His face burned, concentrating on Elayne so much that he didn't even noticed her. Nynaeve wore yellow dress, and had a shawl on her, a yellow shawl, not surprising; really, Nynaeve always wanted to heal anything. But her hair was with ribbons and flowers, as if she had married not long ago. He pushed curiosity away from him again. Elayne could answer everything. But something warned him from appearing in front of the two other women, he returned his look to Elayne. Searching for the changes that must have been there. He found what he looked for.

She wore red and white dress, with the lions of Andor on the sleeves. A dress fitting to a queen, he smiled at the thought. She was a queen, after all, or would be, soon. Though it showed more of her breasts that a queen would show. She was ever prettier than he remembered, if this was possible. But her eyes were red, as if she hadn't got enough sleep, and she was worried. He had no idea how long he observed her, it could have been an hour or a heartbeat.

But now Egwene talked for the first time, though he might have heard her before and ignored the sound. All he cared about was Elayne. "Are you sure, Nynaeve? Mat could just be at some inn, drinking all the ale and wine they had." Even her voice was different, more confident, more commanding. She had an air around herself, an air of command; she could easily match Amys. Though not Sorilea, or Cadsuane, the Aes Sedai's name brought bad taste to his mouth, like the faintest brush of saidin.

---

Elayne flashed, "Of course we are sure, Egwene! Do you think we would have been so worried just because we thought he might be drinking? And he wouldn't, I know he wouldn't! He should have been at the farm two days ago, and he isn't. All the other men have already returned. And would have been gone searching for him if we wouldn't have stopped them. Mat knows how much this is important, we told him. And he would have returned. The only reason not to return is..." She stopped and swallowed, but continued; though in a voice that was considerably smaller, "The only reason for him not to return is that he can't! Can't you see it? You have grown up with the man!"

Rand titled his head, thinking; Mat wouldn't have left Elayne's side even if he had two broken legs, but where was this farm? And why they weren't on their way to Caemlyn? And who was this Brigitte? He met the woman once, long ago, at Falme, and Lews Therin's memories showed him a woman that looked much like her, a woman that could hit a fly two hundred paces away with a bow. Teadra? Was that was her name? Never mind that, Elayne must be meaning another woman that took the name.

He reached a decision, and stepped out of the shadows, none of the women noticed him at first, Elayne and Nynaeve was staring at Egwene, glaring at her would be more exactly. And she was staring at them with a stubborn look on her face. When they saw him their reaction was nothing he expected...

---

Elayne glared at Egwene with fury she barely controlled, Amyrlin or not Amyrlin, Mat had saved Egwene's life too, in the Stone. How could the woman be so blind about Mat? She admitted that she herself was as blind before they went to take the bowl. That conversation she had with Mat, when he had given her his medallion, had changed her view on him. She thought much about him the last couple of days; it wasn't like him to disappear in the air like that. It wasn't a thought she would have a week ago, but it was true, Mat wouldn't just abandon them. And he should have come to the farm long ago. Egwene had grown on the same village with Mat, how she could be so blind about it? Glancing at Nynaeve, she thought she had the answer, Nynaeve had grown with him too, but she still had hard time accepting that Mat could be responsible man when he wanted. But she had been as worried as she herself was, and she also didn't think that Mat stop for drinking, the other men returned almost a day and a half ago, and they brought back Olver, Mat might search for Olver in the city. But Thom said that he had set a point for all of them to gather every hour or so. He was the only one who weren't there, they waited for half a day before taking Olver to the farm and they meant to go right back to search Mat if she and Nynaeve wouldn't have... Her thought stopped on their track when Egwene's eyes widen and she gasped. The light of saidar surrounded her and Nynaeve, and Elayne embraced saidar before she had even started to turn the power rushed in her, until the sweetness became so strong in was painful. Until she thought she might burst. Nynaeve did the same, but she wasn't the one using the original ter'angreal, and any novice could have overcome her easily in her condition. Moghedien, that was her first thought. Moghedien would to get back at them, and even thinking of what she might do to them cause her nightmares.

But it wasn't Moghedien she saw when she turned around, it was a man, and Moghedien wouldn't disguise herself if she had no need to. And she could have taken the three of them easily, when Nynaeve wasn't fully in here. The relief almost make her release saidar, but she hold on to the power, it help her to stabilize her knees, she almost fainted in that first moment.

It was a man, one of the tallest she had ever seen, as tall as Rand, even the thought of him made her heart miss a beat, but he wasn't Rand. The man was in his mid forties, maybe a year or two more. There were white streaks in dark brown hair, and his eyes were dark pools that seemed to shine in his face. He had big nose, but everything in this man seemed to be bigger than normal, and a mouth that now held the faintest smile possible, and a skin that was almost as dark as the Sea Folk's. The eyes, more than everything else, draw her attention, there was something there that was almost familiar, but it was buried underneath all the sadness that had been engraved into that face. He wore plain black coat and breech, though they looked like silk, in Andorian cut. But this man never came from Andor, nor from any other country she knew about. A man that was more than handsome, in his middle years, standing in tel'aran'rhiod where even the Wise Ones never met a man. The only man that she had ever heard of that was here was Gaidal Cain, Birgitte's lover. And any other of the heroes of the horn wouldn't reveal himself like this. Or Rand who came here by the flesh, but this man wasn't Rand.

"Who are you? How did you reached here?" Nynaeve's voice sound harsh and dry. The man ignored her entirely, focusing all his attention on her; she didn't like the way he stared at her. He had a hungry look in his eyes.

"Stop this, it's itching." The man said pleasantly, it still sound like an order. He rubbed his forearms, maybe because it was itching, maybe to make sure they would know what he was feeling, and more importantly, how.

A Forsaken, a male Forsaken. Fear hit her like a hammer. But she held on to saidar and was ready to fight him, even if it was useless, she would not go down without a fight. That was the only answer, even if one of Rand's men was a dreamer he wouldn't in such control on himself. Or be so peaceful around Aes Sedai. And there was the accent too, she had heard such accent from one mouth only, Moghedien's. If she needed any more confirmation. She did nothing, though; she knew that if she would try to leave the dream she would stay here, he knew enough to block anything she would do. And there was no use to try to attack him when he was stronger than both herself and Egwene together. She didn't count Nynaeve, at the state she was; she was no good with the power.

The man ignored their reaction, he looked at Nynaeve closely, and, the only way to describe it was that one moment Nynaeve was foggy, and the next the other woman was here as much as she and Egwene were. And the power blazed around her like the sun itself. They linked; Egwene was the one in control they didn't even have to think about it. And a shield strong enough to bind anyone, anyone at all, had reached to block the man off saidin. She felt the victory in her. And in the other women too, and wonder too. He wouldn't have brought Nynaeve here, it had to be him; there was no other explanation.

Once, when she was a child, Elayne once fell of a window to the garden below, a fall of ten or fifteen feet, Eladia was there before she finished to fall, or so it seem. And the red Aes Sedai had said that without healing she would have probably dead, she had landed on a rock, and it broke every rib in her body. She was healed, and was fine, but she remembered how landing felt, what happened was four or five times that. The shield broke apart, and the link broke when the light of saidar faded from Egwene and Nynaeve. The man hadn't shielded her, and she felt cold fingers around her heart for this. She still held to saidar, but it was useless against him, not while he could shield Nynaeve and Egwene while they were holding saidar, and linked to boot. She was sure that he's strong enough to shield her too, but he hadn't, why?

"Take it as a lesson, Aes Sedai." The man growled in anger, "If you will try to do this again I will make both of you beg to be stilled." He looked at her when he said it, and the hunger in his look tightened the hold of those cold fingers on her heart. "Now, we're going to go to a more comfortable place. And I want you to promise me that you wouldn't try to escape." His face hardened to stone, and suddenly he had a presence around him. An air of command, and not even Suian had such a commanding presence. "If you will not promise this I will simply tie those shield and send both of you out of this place. The shield are too strong for you to break, even while they are tied," A smile appeared at the man face, and he glanced at Nynaeve before returning his gaze to her, "and you can stop trying to break this. You are stronger than I thought, maybe even as strong as Moghedien," hate crossed his face and gone in a flash, "but, Nynaeve, nor you nor Lanfear would ever break this shield. Not in my lifetime." Nynaeve stood rigid, staring at him as if he was the Dark One himself, but he ignored her. "Now, do I have your promises?"

What choices they had? They promised, at least, Nynaeve and Egwene promised. When she tried to promise the world of dreams shift around them. Nynaeve and Egwene looked at her with fear, for her, why did she get this special treatment? The only answers she had were too horrible to think about.

She looked around, she thought she recognized this place. There was a small river flowing near by, and it was the middle of the night, trees grew all over the place, hundred paces high or more. They were standing near two huge doors; the sign of the door were nine golden bees. Illian, where Sammael rules. She cursed under her breath, the man heard her, and rose an eyebrow mockingly.

Nynaeve hissed, and Egwene gasped, "You're Sammael, aren't you? Or one of the other, Sammael rules here, and he can enter tel'aran'rhiod as much as you can."

Anger burned in the man's eyes for a moment and died in another. "I killed Sammael, and this is one place where I rule, little Amyrlin. Sit, we have much to talk about."

"Who are you?" Nynaeve asked as soon as they were all sitting. "What do you want from us?" The man had removed the shield from her, Elayne could see her touching for a heartbeat in the True Source and releasing it, that gaze... She barely stopped a shiver.

"You can call me Carniera, Nynaeve." The man said quietly, but she had heard warders talking that way, just before they attacked. Nynaeve must have heard this in his voice; she became sullen all of a sudden. Glaring at the man. Carniera, the meaning of the word in the Old Tongue was the first. None of the Forsakens was named Carniera, but it could be a title as easily. "And I want her," he pointed at her, and her stomach became ice. "And some information. What happened to Mat?"

"What do you want from me?" She asked, she was proud in her voice, a bit dry, but not at all like the squeak she thought it would come.

"You will have to kill us to have her." Egwene said, her voice left not doubt that she meant it exactly the way it sounded. She would force this Carniera - was it really his name? - To kill her and Nynaeve before she would let him have her. Even though she knew it's foolish, the man would probably kill them and have her anyway, but she was still cheered up by the thought. Her friends hadn't abandoned her.

Carniera rose an eyebrow lazily, "I doubt that you would want to kill me, at the end, we want the same thing. Now tell me about Mat, what happened to him?"

"He disappeared in Ebou Dar - " The last words came out as an order, and she began to answer before she could close her mouth. She didn't mean to say even this, she would give him nothing without understanding why he wanted it.

"How under the light did you reach Ebou Dar, This city is a vipers nest, and it only become worse as time passes?" Carniera asked, he had tensed.

"Why do you want to know?" Nynaeve snapped at him, she looked like she want to go there and box his ears so they would ring till Tarmon Gai'don. He just looked at her, not glaring, or even staring hard, but she was the first to turn her eyes. And she started arranging her skirts carefully around her nervously.

"Pawh!" The man jumped to his feet in blinding speed, he seemed to flow from one stance to another, as it he had no bones in his body. And the world had shift again. She was in the garden where she first met Rand, despite the heat wave the plants were still green, and the grass was soft beneath her.

"They would give me nothing," Said a familiar male voice behind her, "but you will." She whirled around, embracing saidar. And saw what she thought she would see. A man with reddish hair and blue gray eyes, as tall as Carniera, and dressed the same way. Rand! Carniera pretending to be Rand!

She didn't realize that she had moved before her hand landed on his cheek, with all her strength behind it. "How do you dare?" She all but screamed, she slapped him again, his head barely moved, she thought it hurt her more than it did to him. She kicked him. Cursed him. Slapped him. She even tried to use the Power against him, but every time she tried to weave something her flows were cleanly sliced. The man just stood there, until she exhausted herself. Finally she moved away, searching for a curse she hadn't used yet. The man, she refused to think about him as Rand. She didn't know or care how he had found out that she loved Rand, but he will not use that to pry information out of her.

"The first time we met was here." The man said in a quiet voice, he didn't seemed to be bothered by her attack on him. "I wanted to watch Logain, so I climb on this wall, and fell into the garden. You took care of the wound, and probably saved me from Elaida." she didn't believe him, he could have learned as much from any guard that was there that day. He saw that she wasn't convinced and continued, "the next time we met was in Falme, I got this wound on my side." his hand dart to his side and fell off. "But I was unconscious that time. The next time was in the Stone of Tear. Where you gave me two letters. In one you said that you loves me, the exact words were, 'my heart belongs to you only', in the other you said you never want to see the sight of me again." She suddenly had no air to breathe, there was no way he could have known this.

"You're lying, Rand would have never behaved as you did! Never!" But she had wanted to believe him. Light, it would be so good to see him again.

"One day after the bubble of evil tried to kill me you and Egwene came to my room. I had lost my temper and ruined the entire room." He smiled suddenly, fire blazed in his hand and he handed her a flower. It was cold fire in her hand, a perfect golden red rose. "I promised you a flower that day."

"You're him." She whispered, "But why all this... masks and all this behavior?" She wasn't aware of crossing the space between them before she was in his embrace.

"Necessary, Elayne. I don't do such thing because I enjoy them, never for fun, never for glory. Duty is all what I've left." He whispered to her hair, his arms around her; that was all she was aware of, nothing more. She rose her face to him and kissed him, as thoroughly as she had ever kissed him before. Rand's hand moved over her bare back as he pressed her even closer to him. Her bare back, she was standing there naked! She knew she had to pull away, to fix her mind on a dress. But with Rand kissing her all she could think about was how much she loved him. She barely noticed when Rand's cloths were gone too. But as he lied her on the soft grass in the she was sure in one thing, even embracing saidar didn't make her feel half as alive as being in Rand's embrace.

---

Aviendha had been awaken when Birgitte rushed in the room she shared with Elayne, the woman was fully dressed, in those strangely cut cloths. And she held a bare dagger in her hand. She stopped near Elayne's bed and started cursing.

"What happened, something happened to Elayne?" Aviendha asked, fear striking through her. Elayne had gone to tel'aran'rhiod and it could be dangerous. It could be more than dangerous, and Elayne never knew how to be careful.

"She is afraid, Aviendha. And I never felt such fear in her before." The woman growled between curses. Aviendha had never seen Elayne's warder like that. "And she would have stepped out of the dream if she could. Someone is holding her there, someone who terrified her."

"Moghedien?" Aviendha asked, she had rose from the bed and moved to kneel near Elayne's, it had taken Elayne long time before she convinced her to sleep in a bed.

"I don't know, but who else it could be?" The warder sounded desperate, and afraid. Aviendha knew that Elayne and Nynaeve had held Moghedien captive, and that she escaped them and seek for revenged. She had tried before to kill Nynaeve, and she would try again. "And I can't wake her. If Moghedien hold her she will never let her wake."

"Is there anything we can do?" She asked, she didn't think so, but if there was any hope...

"Nothing!" The growl can from deep in Birgitte throat. "All we can do is wait." Aviendha fist tightened on her shift. She could never accept such times where there was nothing for her to do but to wait. But ever since meeting Rand she had been forced to learn this lesson. In the battle over the Tree-killers City, when he almost died, she had sat there all night long. Watching his chest stir. All those night when she barely stopped herself from walking to him. All the time after they went to Caemlyn, when he was so cold and distance. She had to learn how to wait. She sat on the floor, and put her hands firmly on the floor. She thought she might start shaking any moment. Elayne tried to pretend that she wasn't afraid of Moghedien, but she admitted, on one of the nights when they lied in the dark, telling each other secret they shared with no other, how much she was afraid from the woman. Moghedien was stronger then Elayne or she herself was. And she had more than enough reasons to want to revenge Elayne.

She had no idea for how long she was sitting there, her thoughts rambling, she want to have Rand to herself, all of him to herself alone. But she didn't want Elayne to die. She was ready to share Rand, she already agreed to share him with Elayne. And she would accept almost any woman at all just to have some part of Rand. The other possibility, have nothing of him, was worse by far. She sat there, her thought spinning, for a time that looked like eternity. When the door was open, and Nynaeve hurried on, her face paled.

"Is she…?" She asked, her voice full of urgent and fear.

"She is fine, for now. She is angry, very angry. But she hadn't been hurt." Birgitte said. "What happened? Did Moghedien...? How you returned, Moghedien would have never let you escape?"

"It wasn't Moghedien, Birgitte. A man -" That was all she had time to say before Birgitte was near her, her eyes blazing.

"Tall, black hair, with hawk nose? Or blonde, not very tall, with a big scar on his face? " She sounded so like Sulin that Aviendha almost expected to see the maiden standing near the warder.

"No, he was tall, but with brown hair, and he didn't have a hawk nose. Or a scar" Nynaeve answered immediately.

"At least it isn't Demandred." Birgitte signed with relief. "Demandred always wanted anything Lews Therin had. Do you know who he was?" Demandred always wanted what Lews Therin wanted? How the woman could have knew that?

"He said his name is Carniera, do you know him?" At Nynaeve's words Birgitte slide slowly to the floor. As if her knees couldn't hold her anymore, her face was pale. "What happened? You know him, don't you? Who he is? He had Elayne, and he said he is going to pry whatever he wanted to know from her. Who is he?"

"Carniera, don't you know what it's mean? It stand for carniera a'sedai." She looked at them expectantly, Aviendha knew the Old Tongue when she heard it, but she knew the meaning of few words only.

"It mean the first servant, isn't it?" Nynaeve said hesitatingly, "Hardly a name for a Forsaken."

Birgitte look like she was about to explode, "He is not a Forsaken. The First of the Servant, the Lord of Morning, Prince of Dawn, Lews Therin Telamon! It must be him, none of the Forsaken would do such thing, they could do to you whatever they want."

"Lews Therin? He's dead, Birgitte! Dead for three thousands years -" Nynaeve all but shouted, but she stopped with her mouth hanged open when she realized what Aviendha understood as soon as Lews Therin's name was said. Lews Therin, it was easy to think about it that way, Lews Therin was the one who was alone with Elayne. Rand wasn't alone with Elayne, Lews Therin was. "Rand? I know him, he would never behave half as arrogant as that man was."

Birgitte suddenly granted sourly, and Aviendha turned her look to at Elayne. She was still breathing, with no sign on her, she had a tiny smile on her face. Aviendha didn't doubt why, she would have smiled too, had she been with Rand.

"Is something wrong?" Nynaeve asked, all the anger in her voice melted away.

"Something," Birgitte gasped, "everything would be more exact. Light, I knew it's going to make us troubles."

"What are you talking about?" Aviendha asked, she had to take a hold on herself, she very much wanted to grab the other woman by the shoulders and shake everything out of her.

"What do you think, Aviendha? I feel everything Elayne feel. Everything! What do you think I feel now?" Aviendha's face became pale, she couldn't find enough air to breathe. She stared at the sleeping woman, that smile on her lips seemed to widen a bit. Jealously surged in her in waves that threatened to drown her. With one last look at Elayne she brushed roughly against Birgitte as she trotted out. Out of the room, out of the farmhouse.

He is as much her as he's mines, she thought darkly when she breathed the night's air. Cool only compare to the day's heat. She wondered how hot it was in the three-fold land, if in the wetlands it was almost as it was at home.

Birgitte followed her, her face fixed in a strange expression. Controlled pleasure and sympathy. "The Wheel weaves, Aviendha. And its weaving must be accepted."

Aviendha nodded, she had to accept the weaving of the Wheel, and she had already learned that fighting the Wheel is useless. "It still don't mean that I must like it." She murmured, then she blushed; she didn't meant to say it aloud. "I mean..."

"I know," Birgitte laid a hand on her shoulder, "neither one of you are going to like it. But you have no choice about it. No more than he has. And it's much easier for you than Elayne."

Aviendha just stood there, she could see the reason in Birgitte's words, and wasn't surprised that Birgitte knew about her and Elayne both in love with Rand. There was little that a woman could keep secret from her warder, but Birgitte didn't know about Min.

"Now, if you don't need me anymore, I think I will go and find myself something to drink, something strong." Birgitte said lightly and left. Leaving her hugging herself.

I agree to share him, the light burn me, I agreed, but how could I know how hard it would be.

---

Elayne drew away from Rand slowly, she didn't want to leave him, never. He touched with one finger in her cheek and stepped through the gateway, it closed behind him, leaving her alone in the World of Dreams. She waned him to go back, want him to kiss her again, and ... She flushed, her cheeks must be on fire. It must be morning already in Ebou Dar. Not that they had... she stopped again, and felt her cheeks becoming even warmer, if this was possible. Most of the time they talked; just talked. There was nothing wrong talking with a man you were in love with. Even if you sat in his lap all that time. She sighed, and left the dream.

She was lying on her bed, and for a moment she didn't open her eyes. She had to rise up, to calm down Nynaeve, the woman must be going mad of worry. But she didn't thought she could find the will to rise. It was all too easy to just lie there, and remember this night event.

"Enjoying yourself?" Birgitte's voice interrupted her just as she remembered how Rand... Light, am I going to blush the rest of my life thinking about it? She opened her eyes, Birgitte was seating on a chair, her eyes red, but there was a slight smile on her lips. A knowing smile. The red on her face deepened, and she groaned, the woman knew. She forgot that Birgitte could feel what ever she felt, even when she was in tel'aran'rhiod. "What happened? After that, I mean, I know most of it, but the last three hours I didn't felt anything that..." She seemed to search the right word for it, but kept her mouth shut when she glared at the warder.

"Where is Aviendha?" Her bed was empty, and she expected that Nynaeve would be here too.

"She had gone for a walk. And I'm sure you wouldn't blame her for it." Birgitte rose one eyebrow, not even bothering to hide her amusement, and Elayne blushed again, would she live the rest of her life with her cheeks red?

"Would you find her for me please, Birgitte? We need to talk." She thought she might be able to control her blushing this time, but her cheeks heated again when Birgitte laughed and left the room.

She rose from the bed and changed her shift, then she took the finest dress she could find. Rand said that he would come here as fast as he could, and she meant to be dressed before he will even come close.

The dress she had chosen finally was green and blue. A dress that looked much like the dresses she wore in Caemlyn, after what happened, she didn't think she could face him with an Ebou Dari dress without blushing.

"You wanted me?" Aviendha stood on the doorway, her hands clutching her dress so hard that the knuckles were white. Her voice was absolutely clear of all emotions. Elayne understood her fully, she remembered how she had felt when Aviendha told her that she had lied with Rand.

She smiled at the woman, she had some news that would make Aviendha happy. Aviendha's hand only tighten more on the dress, "Do you mind helping me with the dress? Rand is coming and I don't want to..." That was all she got. Aviendha was on her side in a heartbeat, and all the anger seemed to melt away from her.

"Rand? How? When he is supposed to be here?" The words came on top of one another, and the other woman already started buttoning her dress.

"You already know that we met in Tal'aran'rhiod, we talked - "

"Between other things." Aviendha murmured quietly, but not too quietly for her to hear it. She ignored the comment, she thought that the red in her cheeks had lessened, just a bit.

"We talked, and he said that he would come here as soon as he can." She turned to look at the other woman, Aviendha smiled, "And he said he had Illian, he killed Sammael and became the king." She didn't really believe that the crown was offered to him, such things could happen only in stories, but she would find out the truth later.

Aviendha just nodded, "He wanted to go after Sammael ever since he tried to kill us." Elayne remembered it, Egwene had told them about it. "He almost got himself killed that day." Anger entered to Aviendha's voice."He never once took care of himself."

"Then it'll be our job to make sure that he would." Elayne said lightly, Aviendha laughed at that, she finished buttoning the dress and move back. She had a strange look in her eyes.

"It might be harder then you can expect, Elayne. I don't think he understands the meaning of taking care for himself." Elayne could believe that easily, she loved Rand with all her heart, but sometimes he was so stubborn she wanted to box his ears. "He does take care for others, more than he should have." Aviendha continued, "Much more."

"There is one other thing, Aviendha." She said quietly, she didn't really like what she was about to say. "Min is with him, she had told him that she love him. That we all love him." Aviendha fell silent, And Elayne shifted her feet uncomfortably, both of them understood what it must mean.

Aviendha shocked her head, "It doesn't matter, First Sister. What must be will be." Elayne couldn't understand how the other woman could take it so peacefully.

"So you had finally decided to wake up." Nynaeve's voice made her start, and even Aviendha looked startled, "Do you have any idea how much you've worried me? And Egwene? Do you? Did you even care?" Nynaeve was always furious when she was afraid. "Are you fine? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm fine, Nynaeve." If she divert Nynaeve's thought to another direction she might escape the lecture the woman was about to give her. "It was Rand, the man we saw." She stopped as the woman made a sound more a snort than a sniff. Lan leaned on the wall near Nynaeve, his face blank. In the color shifting cloak that made him look like a part of the wall.

"Birgitte told us that." And other things, apparently, things that she shouldn't have. Nynaeve had very strong ideas about modesty. "Why he was so... arrogant?"

For a moment Elayne wondered if Nynaeve was afraid only for her, or was it that a man could outmatch all three of them linked. It was disturbing, Rand was by far stronger than she thought. "He said it was a joke." He saw the look on Nynaeve face, and Aviendha, Nynaeve must have told her what happened, the parts when they were together, anyway. "Don't ask me, he thought it funny, maybe he learnt some Aiel humor." Aviendha straightened up, and began arranging her skirts carefully, she seemed to think that the strangest things are funny. What under the light is so funny about a man that had asked to kiss a maiden? She had no idea, but Aviendha almost broke her ribs laughing. Birgitte understood it, she was the one who told the joke. But both Birgitte and Aviendha gave up finally, Aiel humor was simply too strange to understand.

"A joke, I will show him jokes." Nynaeve muttered, "He thinks that frightening us half way to death is funny? I will box his ears till he will hear rings from now to next Sunday."

Aviendha smiled at the dark woman, but kept her mouth shut. Elayne remembered how Rand was, even after he had taken her to the garden where they had first met, he was harder than any man she ever saw save Lan. She felt Birgitte coming closer, running closer, and turned to face the tall woman. Birgitte was... excited, that was the word that came to her mind.

---

Aviendha tilted her head, she could hear footsteps, but they were to light to be Rand's. It took another moment before she saw him. He looked tired, tired to death, he made no sound as he walked toward them. There was a small smile on his lips, and his gray blue eyes shined, as if he had found something funny. He had changed since she had last saw him, changed more than he should have, it was almost as if he was another man entirely. The way he moved, as quiet as the night, he seemed to flow from one position to another. And he carried the sword she gave him on his side as if it was part of him. He was clad in death black, it made her wince, she had never mentioned to him the d'tsang, why should she? He would never be a despised one. There was a small sign on the left side of his breast, a dragon in red and gold, it shined as if it was metallic. And the light almost caused her to believe that it moved.

The greatest changes, however, was in his expression, he was never weak, ever since the beginning. And with every passing day he became harder and harder. She never minded it, the harder he was the better. Weak people died in the three-fold land, and elsewhere. When she left him he was harder than any man she had ever saw, harder than rock or steel. Now he made the man she saw when she left him look like an innocent boy of five. He carried himself with an air of power. A power that hadn't come from the One Power, but from will. Only the old Wise One, Sorilea, and the Mistress of the Ships could match him, and maybe even these not. The idea of Sorilea pulling back from anyone was one she had a hard time to picture in her mind. But seeing the man in front of her, she could believe it. It didn't matter, she still loved him, loved him so much that her heart raced the moment she saw him, she felt as if she was about to explode any moment. Light, it's not fair for a man to be so beautiful, She thought, he was the most beautiful man she had ever saw. Her heart ached, she longed to be in his arms for so long, she had... she stopped thinking about him. Tried to, anyway, the best she could do is to push him to a corner of her mind.

She was so focused on Rand she didn't noticed at first the woman on his side, she was short, barely reaching Rand's shoulders. With brown eyes and dark hair. She had a glint of amusement in her eyes, and she looked as if she always found the funny side in anything. It was her cloths that make Aviendha stare at her, she wore breaches and coat in pale blue, almost azure. Aviendha didn't knew that wetlander woman wore men's cloths. The strange woman stared directly at her, and her eyes widen slightly, in recognition, Aviendha thought. But she had never seen this woman before.

"You're Aviendha, aren't you?" The woman asked, in a soft voice and an accent she didn't recognized. She didn't wait for her nod, "I'm Min."

So this is Min, this is the third woman she had to share Rand with. Elayne had described her, but not enough, apparently. Aviendha had to admit that the woman was more than pretty. She could understand how a man could fall in love with her. She was also few years older than Rand. And -

"You!" Rand's cry had shocked her off her thoughts. "Teadra, what under the light you are doing here? You are dead! I saw you dying!" He was staring directly at Birgitte, and there was no sign for the calmness he usually surrounded himself with, he was obviously shaken. Min looked startled and afraid. Aviendha felt the hold of fear in her too, if he was going mad... There was nothing she could do about it, nothing! It was so frustrating she wanted to scream. Elayne and Nynaeve shared one glance, and turned to Rand, their face mixed between stupefaction and horror. Birgitte's face drained of blood, she looked like death.

"Lews Therin," She said with a bow, then continued in the Old Tongue, Aviendha knew only few words in the Old Tongue, and she knew that Rand know no more than she did. But he seemed to have no problem. Birgitte talked for a moment or two, with Rand listening to her with face like thunderstorm. No one save Birgitte and Rand made a move, or a sound. Rand sometimes ask a question or two. But most of the time he listened, and Birgitte became even paler. Elayne looked sick, and Lan was supporting Nynaeve, she looked like she would collapse on the ground. She heard Moghedien mentioned few times, but that was all she understood. Birgitte was in midword when Rand throw back his head and laughed. The stillness that had held every one else seemed to break.

He had tears in his eyes when he finished laughing, and he had to lean on the wall to stay standing. Rand rarely laughed, sometimes she thought he had no sense of humor, "The light burn my soul," He said finally, wearing a grin as wide as she ever saw at him, "you didn't tell me about Moghedien, Elayne. You thought I would be angry?" He found Moghedien amusing? There was nothing to be amused about in Moghedien, wetlanders' humor was beyond her, but none save he was even slightly amused. He raised a hand to stop Elayne, "Never mind that." With a shake of his head he turned to Birgitte, "I will talk with you later Teadra, we have much to talk about. Caution, for instance." Birgitte nodded and all but run away. Elayne looked at her in amazement.

"What under the light you did to her?" She asked, her voice required answer. Rand ignore her, he was observing Lan.

"It's good to see you too, Lan." He said, "But I think that Nynaeve could use some fresh air." Nynaeve moved mechanically, supported by Lan.

"Is there any place where we can talk, privately?" He asked her, and she jumped.

"Here," Elayne answered, "this would fit." She pointed at the room she shared with her. Rand nodded, and followed her, Aviendha walked side by side with Min. And neither one of the women did any effort to hide that they were examining each other.

The room wasn't big, only two beds and a small wardrobe, hardly enough for her and Elayne's cloths. Rand took one look at the room and gave Elayne an accusing stare. Elayne stared right back at him, face blank.

At first Aviendha thought that her eyes was fooling her, but the walls were growing apart, the room was becoming larger. Rand stop whatever it was he was doing when there were enough room for all of them to seat comfortably on the floor. His grin held no mirth, but his eyes were locked on Elayne. The woman simply sat on the floor, without showing any expression.

"Are you going to do this always?" Min asked, she fold her hands and her foot began tapping on the floor, "Stop this right now, this is no contest. Light, you love each other. You're not rivals, or have you forgotten this." Min turn her gaze to Elayne, she seemed to forget that Rand was not three feet from her, "I don't care whatever he had surprised you before, it's no reason to behave like he had stabbed you. And this isn't a game to know who has more pride than the other." Rand tried to hide a smile, but failed, and Min turned to him.

"That is enough Min," He said, "seat down so we could talk comfortably." For some reason Min blushed like the sun. "You too, Aviendha. I don't want to break my neck." Aviendha sat down, and Min followed her.

"Teadra?" Elayne asked, she had spot of color on her cheeks.

"That is the name I remember her by." He rose a hand, Aviendha could easily see hundred questions in Elayne's eyes. "It's a very long story. And I will tell it all, in a moment." He looked at Min, "You saw something, what is it?"

Min straightened up, and began straightening her coat, her eyes not quite meeting Rand's. "Nothing of any help for you." He just continued to look at her. Aviendha smiled inwardly, it had happened to her too, sometimes. Rand just seem ed to know what she was thinking, sometimes before she even thought it fully. Min grimaced, "Only something I already told you, all the three of us love you." The grimace gone, and she grinned, "And that you love us. Among other things, Aviendha has a snow blizzard in her past, and a broken bracelet in her future." Rand blinked at Min and his gaze turned to her. She was surprised when she didn't felt heat in her cheeks. But she touched her belt pouch, where she kept the bracelet Rand had given her. It had never left her, since the day Rand had given it to her. She thought of it at first as a chain of slavery, now it was something she would carried proudly.

"You were about to tell us something, Rand." Elayne interrupted, "How do you know Birgitte?"

Rand took a long breath and lean on the wall. "If you want me to start at the beginning, I think it started in Tear, I began to remembers things that I shouldn't. That I couldn't have possibly know..." He barely stopped to breath, he told them everything that happened to him, from Lanfear's offer to him to his second time in Ruidhean. Aviendha was with him for all this time, she thought she knew everything about him, but now...

"You had captured Asmodean?" She asked unbelievingly, "Where were you hiding him all this time?"

Rand gave her a sad smile, "I'm sure you remember my gleeman." He said, with no sign of mockery in him. For a long time all she could do is stare at him, Elayne looked at him wide eyes. And Min looked like her eyes might just fall off her face. Jessain Naetal, Rand's gleeman, was a mystery for her. Rand had talked to him for hours sometimes, and always alone. Now she could understand why, but the idea that she had talked with one of the Forsakens horrified her, she even shouted on him. He was certainly different than she expected.

Elayne was the first one that recovered, "How did you held him?" She asked, "We put an a'dam on Moghedien and she still escaped us, how did you make sure he won't run away?"

"You let Moghedien escape." That wasn't a question, Rand voice held no emotions, and his face was blank mask.

"Someone freed her, a man that can channel, she couldn't have escaped on her own. And we didn't think that ... " Elayne spoke so fast that the words came on top of one another, but her voice faded.

"It doesn't matter anymore, she run. We will deal with this later." Rand said with a sigh.

"What did you do to Jessa - Asmodean?" Aviendha asked, she didn't saw him ever since the day they attacked Caemlyn. "You killed him?"

"He escaped," Rand said, his knuckle became white and he rose his head and stared right at her eyes. "he run away after I killed Rahvin, after ... what happened there." He closed his eyes for a moment, pain on his face.

"You can tell us about this later, Rand." Min said softly, she touched Rand's arm lightly, "What happened after you caught him?"

Rand gave her a thankful look and continued the story, Aviendha could see that Elayne wasn't satisfied, for that matter, she herself wasn't. But Min was right, he could tell them this later.

"In Ruidhean there are two statues, ter'angreals," Elayne's head whipped at him as soon as he mentioned ter'angreals, sometimes Aviendha thought that Elayne loved studying ter'angreals as much as she did Rand. "they were created in the Age of Legends to be use as a weapon against the Dark One. Two Sa'angreals were created, one for saidin, and one for saidar. With either one of those Sa'angreals one can draw enough to do anything." He looked at her and then at Elayne, "I have used callandor, and even callandor's power is nothing compare to the great Sa'angreal. And I touched only half of what it allowed you to draw, the other half was Asmodean's. We destroyed Ruidhean before I won the battle. We could have as easily destroyed half the world, or all of it." He shivered, Aviendha never saw him like this. So... human, he bared his heart and soul for them. She didn't know how he found the courage to do so. But she was more than delighted to know he trusted them so much.

"You have those statues?" Elayne asked "Both of them?"

"I have," Rand said, "I will give you the one you can use if you ask. Elayne, I know you're strong, but it can drive you mad. The sense of all the power you can draw. With a thought you can make a mountain or destroy a country. And it will not even make you breath hard. It's too powerful to play with." He had a note of fear in his voice. He was afraid of those Sa'angreals being used, Aviendha couldn't imagine him being afraid. But he would still give her, or Elayne, the statue if they would ask. How much his trust in them reached? Was there any limit to it?

"I will not ask you this, Rand." Elayne said, her voice sound very small suddenly. Aviendha understood it easily, if it could make Rand afraid... She had never seen him afraid, not even when Sammael attacked him, if this could shaken him enough to make him show his fear, she didn't want to think about it.

"Why don't we hear your story, Elayne?" Min suggested, her eyes were full of concern, Rand had his eyes close, but his knuckles were white around the belt of his sword. He was more than afraid of it, but he would give it to them. Her heart ached, she couldn't even begin to explain in words how much she loved him in that moment.

"Rand," Elayne rose from the floor and kneel near Rand, "I said I will never ask you this, what more do you want?" Neither one of them liked to see Rand like this.

"Do you know how Ilyena died?" Rand asked suddenly, Elayne blinked, Aviendha didn't saw the connection. Rand rise a hand, a flame burn there for a heartbeat and gone. He turned his gaze to her, "And I've seen you die once, Aviendha. It drove me mad, more than saidin could ever do." He shifted his position against the wall, every sign of weakness in him gone.

"On Caemlyn, Rahvin killed you, you and Mat and Asmodean. I saw you dying. I used a... weapon, it's called balefire, that burned his deeds from the pattern. So he didn't killed you, but the memories remain, and I remember what I felt." He continued his story, voice and face smooth, she could read nothing in them. Aviendha stared at him, she could remember no such thing, but it explained much. If he wasn't going mad, if he wasn't … she wouldn't think about it! She wouldn't!

"That is why you were so cold?" She asked, that coldness had caused her more pain than she could ever let him know.

Rand's eyes harden to gray crystal, "I have seen you die, I would do anything to avoid this again, next time there might be no balefire."

He continued talking, Elayne wanted to know every detail of his doing in Andor. Especially about Taim, and the Black Tower. At some point he fell quiet, he look almost... nervous, a man that don't know the ground he step on. "When Verin and Allana came to Caemlyn I went to visit them, to know what they are doing there. That time Allana had..." He stopped to take a breath, not meeting their eyes. He seemed unable to continue.

"You let her bond you?" Elayne voice was quiet, and dangerous. There was a glint in her eyes, and saidar filled her. Min turned her head to look at Rand, she didn't said much so far, but now she looked startled.

"Did you?" She asked, so far Aviendha thought her weak, but now her voice, and expression, was harder than stone. She could have been a good Wise One.

"I never let her do anything," Rand said defensively, "she did it on her own." He barely finished talking when Elayne jumped on her feet and he had been floating in the air on flows of air, a heartbeat later he was smashed against the wall. He grunted sourly when he was thrown against the stone wall.

"She bonded you!" Elayne almost scream, Aviendha touched saidar hastily and waved hastily Fire and Spirit to cut Elayne's flows, the woman was preferring weaves that could kill Rand. Rand eyes focused on them, and a stone wall seem to drop between her and saidar, the light of saidar were gone from Elayne too.

"Now listen to me," Rand said firmly, his eyes blue fire, he had a hand pressed to his side, where the old wound was "I was never asked if I want to be her warder, if I was I would have refuse. If there was any way to break the bond I would. Need I make myself clearer?"

Elayne ignored his words, she looked like she want to kill him with her bare hands. Min stood, leaning on the wall, her face so pale that Aviendha thought that she had fainted. "She, Allana, could feel whatever you feel, isn't it?" Aviendha barely recognized Min's voice, it was low and fierce, "That was how she knew about us, isn't it? She felt it." Her voice was frozen, and she held a dagger in her hand, "I will kill her, I will..."

"You won't," Elayne said suddenly, emotionlessly "if you will kill her Rand will die." She seemed to gain control on herself again, "I want your bond Rand, Allana will give me it if I have to skin her first."

"You can move the bond?" Rand asked, obviously surprised, "I didn't know that."

"She can move it, and will do it." Elayne stated, it was a statement of facts.

"Why didn't you told me, Rand?" Aviendha asked, "I could... do something." She regretted the hesitation, but she had no idea what she might have done.

---

Birgitte knew it meant trouble when Lews Therin recognized her, he should have never been able to do so. Not while he's alive. It hinted about things that she preferred not to think about, she was always a soldier. Never a philosopher. She went outside, and went to her training area. Arrow after arrow hit the target, exactly where she aimed them. After so long she needn't even to think about it. She was good, better than anybody she ever met was. But even she needed the practice, as always, the bow reminded her of Gaidal. She fought the sadness in her, forcing it down. Moghedien promised her that she would cry as long as the Wheel turn, and sometimes she wanted to. Losing Gaidal had hurt her more than anything else the woman could have done had.

The sense of someone watching her made her turn back, Lews Therin, No! He's Rand al'Thor now, she thought, watched her. "What do you want, Lews Therin?" She asked coldly, she turned her back to him and continued practicing.

"Good as always, Teadra." He said quietly, "Tell me how you reached here, everything. I saw you dying in Rorn M'doi, I avenged you death that day. How did you come back here."

Birgitte grimace, she wasn't afraid of him knowing about her, not in the same way she fear other to know, it was different with him. He would never think about her as the heroin that can do everything, as other did. He would treat her as a girl he needed to take care for. It didn't matter to him that she could take care for herself, he did the same with the others. Maybe because he was the older, maybe because it was just the way he was.

She told him her story, talking in a voice that she kept as much emotionless as she could, he simply listen, at some point he took the bow from her and started shooting at the targets, he was as good as she was. Every arrow reached the target. When she finished, with Mat asking her to protect Elayne and Aviendha and Nynaeve, and then disappearing, he looked at her with a troubled look.

"I'm one of them, am I not? One of the heroes of the horn, I mean. You said so before, in Falme." She wasn't sure whatever it was a question or a statement of facts. But she nodded, there was no point in hiding what he already knew.

"Interesting." He murmured, "How is Elayne?" He asked suddenly.

"Elayne? What do you mean? You just talked with her for three hours." She smiled, "What did you do to anger her so? She was never that angry."

"I did nothing," He signed, "she would tell a different story, of course, but I did nothing." Birgitte shocked her head in wonder.

"You always seem to search the women that give you troubles, Lews Therin." She said, then blushed, she shouldn't have said it.

Pain and fury burn in his eyes for a moment, "That I do, Teadra, light help me, that I do." He whispered, "Where do they keep the Bowl of the Winds?" He asked in a louder voice.

---

I will not write anymore this story, this is how it ends, I've said it before, I'm not Robert Jordan, and have no intention pretending to be him. (Check the grammar or the spelling and you will understand why I can't pretend to be RJ. :-) ) Anyway, I feel the urge to write dozen more parts of this story, I probably can, but I learned to be careful of such things, it usually drives me mad. Anyway, don't worry, I already got the idea for a new story, WoT one, what else. And I mean to make it as long as I can. Considering that this story was supposed to be only one part and max of 5 or 6 pages, and that it end with 22 pages and three parts, you can see what happen to me. I hope you enjoy it, and even more so, I hope that you will contact me and tell me what things were wrong, what can be improve, what you want and so on.

[Originally posted on as Barid Bel Medar @ Sometime on 1998]

Rand was sitting on his throne, the council of nine had taken almost all his time. Min had a hard time hiding a scowl, it wasn't Rand's fault. And she knew from the beginning that he would be busy with affairs of state most of his time. But it didn't mean that she had to like it. Rand might look as if he was made of rock, but she could see the signs on him. The way he moved, the way he tilted his head. He was tired to death, not the tiredness that sleep could heel. He needed to go away for a time. Somewhere where he could be only Rand al'Thor. Someplace where he could just rest. But she knew it was useless, Rand wouldn't allow himself a rest before he collapsed, and he came closer everyday. Those wounds he had on his side hadn't healed, and she knew he was in pain from them. But he continued, as if he thought that if he would just rest everything would collapse on him.

She had tried to talk about it with Cadsuane, just talking to the woman required from her to gather all her courage. And she convinced Cadsuane to talk with Rand, convinced wasn't the right word. It wasn't that the woman tried to be rude, it just seemed that she was unable to let her finish her sentences. Before she got more than a word or two the woman patted her shoulder and told her that she would make sure that Rand would rest. But Min already knew it was useless. Rand may be ready to hear Cadsuane, but he wouldn't do what she want. Whatever Cadsuane thought.

She was right of course, Rand told Cadsuane bluntly that this wasn't her business at all. And when she tried to press him... Rand could be just as overbearing as Cadsuane, maybe more. The look on the Aes Sedai's face when he refused was of utter surprise. Min thought that nobody had refused the woman in so long a time that she had forgotten how it felt.

She glared at Alanna, standing behind the throne, for some reason the woman supported Rand. Although she refused to answer her why. For that matter, Rand only said that he can trust Alanna more than any other Aes Sedai. She was so angry then that she asked him if he thought that he can trust Alanna more than Elayne. She made a point not mentioning Elayne, or that Aviendha woman, near him. As long as they weren't near him he was only hers and she didn't want him even to think of them unless he had too. Rand had gone quite for few moments and then answered he does trust Alanna more than Elayne! He refused to answer why. And Alanna merely ignored her questions about this, although she was friendly enough when she didn't tried to dig why Rand trusted her so much, friendly for Aes Sedai, that is.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by Rand's sudden jump, he made a strange move with his hand, as if he was trying to swift something off, all the eight members of the council of the nine, they were still arguing about who needed to be the new member, had flown straight at the wall. Min jumped on her feet with her knees trembling so badly she almost sank back to the chair. Fear crushing in her, threatening to overwhelm her.

"What under the light do you think you're do-!" Alanna started in a shaken voice. Rand merely pointed at the place where the eight men had stood only seconds ago. His face looked like a storm, it took another minute before the gateway started to open, and Min sank back with relief, not madness. She swallowed hard, and found that she want to swallow again. Not the madness, thank the light. Not yet, that thought came bitterly. How long doe we have? She wondered, there was nothing idle in the thought. How long before I lose him? How long before the madness has him?

A man stepped through the not fully open gateway. Clad in the Asha'man's dead black. He had a silver pin on one side of his collar, but the other side was black. Rand had explained this to her. A Dedicated. But even mere soldiers could overcome any Aes Sedai. The Asha'man looked worn out, there were stains of blood on his coat, and he limped slightly. One of the Asha'man, Flinn, moved to his side. They were so quiet she forgot entirely about them. The Dedicated's limp was gone after Flinn sent a hand to touch his forehead. With a grateful nod, the Dedicated turned his face to Rand. He touched his heart with a fist, a thing that Min considered as the Asha'man's version for a bow. "My Lord Dragon, the Black Tower was attacked by Aes Sedai not an hour ago." The look he gave Alanna was grim and full of scorn and hate. Something flushed over his head, and Min suddenly knew that there was something even worse coming. "They attacked under Elaida's orders, My Lord Dragon. Fifty Aes Sedai and some of the White Tower guards. And the M'hael was gone in the attack, we didn't find his body, so we can't be sure, but..." The Asha'man's voice faded under Rand's glare. If,before, his face looked like a storm now it was about to break. The council of nine, near the wall, was very quiet. They didn't want to attract Rand's attention now.

"This is more than I will take." Rand said quietly. Min would have preferred him to scream or shout. The dry, icy tone Rand used made her heart cringe. "How many dead or wounded?"

"The M'hael is the only one we didn't find, we had about sixty men wounded, all the Aes Sedai save one were killed. The guards ran before we could deal with them, but we sent some of us to chase them." The Asha'man's words made Min wince, she expected an explosion from Rand. Something, anything. But he just nodded.

"Dashiva, you and him," he pointed at the Dedicated, "are going to the Black Tower, gather every last Asha'man and bring them to me." He seem to be thinking for a moment. "Take them to the top of the dragonmount." A twisted grin appear on his face, "That's ought to fit."

***

The warder was drowning in grief, waves of sorrow and grief tore his mind to shreds. Seren was dead, his Aes Sedai, his bond holder and his wife. The tearing of the bond was bad enough, but to lose the one he loved, that was even worse. He tried to kill the black clad man that had killed her, but the man simply knocked him down with the Power. There was no pain greater than the one that tore at his heart now. They took him to the court of traitors, him and every other Aes Sedai, Warder, Novice or Accepted that they caught. For three thousands years the tower had stood. The shadow's army had tried to destroyed it in the Trollocs Wars, and had suffered its worse defeat, Arthur Hawkwings had tried to break the power of the tower and put siege for twenty years of it. But the tower survived it. The tower survived countless disasters, but this young man had destroyed it.

The warder knew the prophecies of the dragon, "and the unstained tower would be broken by its name." But he never thought that something worse than the breaking of the Tower could happen. Only now it did. And the warder wanted revenge. They tied him and took his sword, but he had a dagger in his sleeve, he could be free in heartbeats. He might be able to take one of those men before they would kill him, everything in him longed for death, for the release from the pain that torture him. Every shred of his mind longed to Seren, he could end it, he can join her in the silent death. But he held it in. He didn't want to kill the weapon, he wanted the man who wielded it. He wanted his dagger in the Dragon Reborn's heart. Maybe it would destroy the world, maybe it would let the Dark One win. The warder couldn't make himself care. He wanted the man dead. But he wasn't here, not yet, at least. The man would come here one way or another. To savor his victory, to savor Seren's death. And then it would be the time, the time to join Seren.

He scanned the crowd, nearly two hundred women sitting on the floor, none of them could ignore the place where they were chosen to be held in. The court of traitors had only three functions, executions, stilling and gentling. There would be no gentling today. But each sister would go to the headsman gladly to avoid being stilled. He could almost smell their fear. Every Aes Sedai was a strong woman, but they never faced such a threat. The red sisters looked sick, they had no doubts about their fate. Some of those black clad man, Asha'man, that was how they called themselves, "guardian of justice" in the Old Tongue, had made some comments that made absolutely clear what they meant to do to the reds. Some of the red had fainted, some of them cried. Few sat quietly and tried to maintain their dignity. Elaida was one, though her face was pale as snow. One of them, a man that had an andorian accent, the one who was in command, told the other to guard her with their life. And made extremely clear why. The Amyrlin Seat was to be kept for the Dragon Reborn. As far as he could understand, the Dragon was here earlier, but went to bring some women. At least that was what the Asha'man thought.

Elaida's jaw was locked tight, she seemed to be trying to convince herself that this is not happening. Seren always said that Elaida was never really ready to admit that she can be wrong. Or that something bad can happen to her. The sisters of the other ajahs say quietly, some of the green sobbed, they had lost their warders. The others looked straight through the Asha'man, as if by ignoring their presence they could make them go away. He saw some sisters that seemed to be praying. His gaze went to another group near him, maybe six or seven Asha'man, all staring at a single Aes Sedai, they looked like hawks staring at a rabbit. The warder didn't knew her name, a brown sister that came to Elaida's call. He had seen her killing two Asha'man before she was taken down. Every Asha'man near her had two pins on his collar, one shaped like a silver sword, the second a red and gold dragon. He thought it somehow connected to rank. The Aes Sedai stared at them, sometimes one of the Asha'man said something to her. One time they all started to laugh, and her cheeks redden in fury.

The warder understood none of it, the Asha'man was obviously shielding the Aes Sedai, but all it took was one man for two and sometimes three sisters, five or six when it were Accepteds or Novices that he was shielding. Why so many just for one Aes Sedai?

The warder look at the rest of the gaidin, they were tensed but they didn't move, their gaze sliding over the court, observing, searching. They would do nothing unless they thought that they had a chance, some of them, like him, had lost their Aes Sedai. They search for a time to attack, were they can kill one of the Asha'man. Some must be also waiting for the Dragon Reborn, waiting to kill him.

It was as if his thought summon the man, a tall man, almost a hand taller than the warder, with dark reddish hair. The warder suspected that women might find his handsome. He wore black, like the Asha'man, but his collar was blank, on the left side of his chest there was a sign, a dragon circling the ancient symbol of Aes Sedai. A sword hanged to his side, and his hand ran over its hilt. He was moving in a way the warder knew well, Leopard in High Grass, used when there was enemies all around you. Two women stepped few feet behind him, one tall and dark, in green riding dress, the warder knew her, Alanna. He gritted his teeth in fury, to think that an Aes Sedai from the same ajah as Seren had cooperated with this man. One glance at al'Thor and Alanna said that he was the one in control. The other woman was also familiar, a girl in boy's cloths, thought the last time he had seen her she was wearing rough cloths. Now her cloths were made of silk, in pale rose. He searched for a name for her, Min he thought she called herself.

Al'Thor turned back for a moment and said something to the women, Alanna merely nodded. But Min seemed to be arguing with him. Finally she nodded too, thought it was clear she didn't like it. When al'Thor moved on both women were left behind, Alanna touched Min's arm, who was frowning at al'Thor's back. They began to talk in quiet voices.

The warder ignored them, his eyes were fixed on al'Thor, as were everyone's else. The Aes Sedai tensed as soon as they saw him enterring the court of traitors. But he ignored every last one of them, his stare was directed straight at Elaida, and he trotted toward her, by his face, he would have been walking strait through anything that would have been on his way. Elaida looked like she was about to throw up.

"Elaida," al'Thor said in a quiet voice, just enough so the warder could hear him. "it's so good to see you again. I was afraid some of the Asha'man might harm you." There was no emotion in his voice. The comment rose many heads in the Aes Sedai. If al'Thor had met Elaida before, then all the rumors about reds rising false dragons may be true after all. The warder cared nothing one way or another.

"What do you want from me, you filth?" Elaida snapped, the worst response that the warder could think of, didn't she understand that she was in his hands? That he could decide to kill or still her just for this? Elaida tried to rise to her feet, a hard task, her hands were bound. Al'Thor bent down and grabbed her by the beck, raising her easily. Elaida face became slowly purple, al'Thor held her a foot above ground, her eyes straight with his.

After a moment or two of observing her he opened his mouth, "I was afraid that we will not have time for the long conversation I plan to have with you, Elaida. Very long conversation. After all, how could I resist your invitation to visit the Tower." He let her drop, and she collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. "I suggest that you will learn some manners in the meantime. Or else I'll make sure you will." The treat was obvious, the warder had no idea why the man had such hate toward Elaida, but he held no pity for her. Seren was green, and Elaida humiliated every green in the tower. He saw Min staring at the man, her face pained. Then her gaze slid toward Elaida, and her face become stone. She touched her sleeve lightly, the warder could see the shape of a dagger there. Elaida ought to fear the woman more than al'Thor.

Al'Thor turned to the rest of the Aes Sedai, under his gaze many shifted their positions, almost all the Aes Sedai became pale. There was no emotion in the look, only ice. "You call yourself Aes Sedai." He said, "and you don't even know what it meant to be an Aes Sedai." His words made many of the Aes Sedai wince. "But under the light, and my hope to rebirth and salvation I swear that I will teach every last one of you what it means to be a servant to all." Some Aes Sedai fainted, such an oath couldn't be broken. And his tone of speaking made it extremely clear how he was going to teach them it.

Al'Thor's gaze swept over the Aes Sedai, it reached to the group of Asha'man guarding the brown sister. And for the first time there was emotion clear on his face, surprise, and shock. He all but run to the woman.

"My Lord Dragon," Said one of the black-clad men near the brown sister. "she is stronger than any other Aes Sedai here. Almost as strong as one of us, we thought it's better to-" al'Thor only nodded.

You were right, more than right." He looked at the woman with the faintest smile. "It good to see you again, Saine Tarasind. Though this is the last place I would have ever expected to see you ." The warder tensed, the dagger in his sleeve sliding to his hand, he had taken it from a Gray Man's body. It burned it's way through almost anything. The cords that tied his hands were gone. Everyone's attention was directed to al'Thor and the sister. It was almost the time, all he needed was another small distraction.

The woman become rigid, al'Thor's hand touched her chin, rising her eyes to meet his. She seemed to become blurred for a moment, then the same woman stood in front of al'Thor. Without the Aes Sedai agelessness. The warder estimated her age at late twenties. She was also trying very hard to hide her fear, and failing in it. "Lews Therin," The woman said in a pleasant voice. It was hard detecting the fear in her voice, yet the warder heard it. "I'm surprised to see you here, I never thought you would come here by your own will." She bit her tongue suddenly, fear blazing in her eyes.

Al'Thor smiled unpleasantly. "I thought that Elaida couldn't make such plan by herself, you were the one behind it." Behind him Elaida jumped, kicking with her feet at the floor and thrashing around, trying to escape something. Her mouth were open, but no sound came out of it. Then she fell down, her body still. Dead. Al'Thor didn't even stop talking, "I made a promised so long ago, Mesaana. I hope you remember it. I truly hope you do. Because now it's time for you to pay for all what you've done." The woman, the warder couldn't believe her to be Mesaana, al'Thor was mad, must be mad, had fainted. The Asha'man had strange expression on their face. But none moved to stop her fall. p>"Is she really-" On of the Asha'man started to ask, but that was the moment the warder chose to move, he jumped to his feet, and throw himself at al'Thor. He was close, not twenty feet away, and nobody was looking at his direction. He kept his mouth shut, no need to warn the man about his death coming. All around him warders jumped to their feet, covering him. They understood, they knew, and if he would succeed then their Aes Sedai might break the shield. Might break free. The warders attacked the Asha'man that was near. Most had daggers in hand, the Asha'man didn't botherto search them for weapons other than their swords.

The warder raced toward al'Thor, and, as always in battle, the world seem to slow down. Only he moved in normal speed. al'Thor tried to turn back, but his movement was so slow, fifteen feet. He saw a graying warder throw its dagger strait at one of the Asha'man.

At ten feet it struck, sinking in the Asha'man's shoulder. Fire blazed around the graying warder, and took the life of two other warders too. Al'Thor almost finished his turn. The Aes Sedai were scrambling to their feet, some seemed to be able to touch the True Source.

At seven feet something passed near him, a ball of fire that moved through the chest of a warder and burned the hand of another before exploding on a wall. Al'Thor's eyes widened slightly at the sight of him, running at him with a dagger in his hand.

At six feet the world stopped existing. Only he and his target. Only he and the man who ordered Seren's death. The pain that soon will be end, the grief that would be done. Seren that waited for him in the death.

Five, four and three feet passed, al'Thor suddenly seemed to be moving as fast as he did. Not in the slow motion that everyone else seemed to. Al'Thor slid at him, there was no time to draw his sword, and he has a dagger in his hand. Al'Thor would be dead, all will be over with.

At two feet he struck with the dagger, straight to the man's heart. But al'Thor twisted at body around it. Too late to stop his direction. He crushed at al'Thor. Carrying him with his motion, his dagger rose again to stab, it left a red trail on the other man's cheek. And another on his shoulder.

The warder never saw the hand that crushed against his throat, crushing it. He couldn't have stopped her if he would have seen it, if he could make himself care about his own death. All he knew was that suddenly he couldn't strike again, that the pain inside him was fading. He still tried to hit at the man with all his strength. But his arms hadn't the power needed to crush a butterfly. "Seren." He tried to whispered, but his throat was ruined, her face, her smile was the last thing he could think about before his heart stop beating.

Rand pushed away the corpse from him, his face hurt, and he could barely move his left arm. He rise his eyes to look for Min, Alanna was ordered to keep her safe with her life. He sighed with relief when he saw her safe. Alanna was standing in front of her, not doubt holding the power. It was Alanna's sudden fear that made him turn around. He looked over the hall, the court of traitors they call it,a fitting name. The Asha'man had already took control for everything. As he watch he saw the last shield being placed on an Aes Sedai that stared at a man's corpse and cried. He spotted out three black clad figure on the floor, with saidin in him he could see that all of them was breathing, thought weakly. A soldier and two dedicated ran to them, and helped them sit straight, their wounds gone. Other Asha'man, those who weren't wounded, moved and healed any black clad man with even the slightest sign of wound. One of them came close and touched his forehead with both hands, the pain on his shoulder and face gone, thought the Old Wound and the new one were throbbing.

The Asha'man that healed him continued on without a word, there were too many wounded to stop even by the Dragon Reborn. Min was watching him, and from the look on her face he was going to hear very sharp wards from her as soon as they would be alone. She nodded toward Elaida's body. And he understood. He didn't kill the woman, only put her to sleep. Deep sleep, so she hardly breathed. He had to prove those Aes Sedai he meant what he said. But he couldn't kill a defenseless woman, even if it was Elaida. Mesaana was another matter, he could easily recall too many of her crimes. And there were too many murders in her past than he could ignore. He would pry any last scrap of information out of her before he would kill her. And even this thought, the thought of killing a Forsaken that killed thousands, the thought of killing the Forsaken that had planned his kidnapped, made his stomach cringe. Elaida he already had a plan for, shielding her and sending her to the same farm he meant to send Colaevare to, and this time he meant to make sure that the woman wouldn't kill herself, he couldn't think of any other punishment that he could have done to her that was worse, not one he could do, anyway.

There were bodies of warders all around them, the Asha'man had no time to be gentle. And even an Aiel was less dangerous than an Asha'man full of the power. Even while most of them had time for hand and knees only.

The sight disgusted him, he touched Dashiva's shoulder, "Have the bodies buried, and tied those shields. There must be dungeons somewhere in the Tower. Find them, the Aes Sedai could be kept there for a time. The warders must be held elsewhere. Mesaana would be kept in the Tower, with at least three Asha'man near her all the time. I want it to be Asha'man only. No Dedicated or Soldiers." Dashiva nodded and start giving orders to the Asha'man.

Rand had all but ran out of the room. With Min and Alanna joining him as soon as he passed near them. His stomach was turning, it was easy to guess why that man came at him so. I never want it, never asked for it, never wished for it to happened, he cried in his mind. Suddenly he wished for Lews Therin, wished to hear the other man. A man that might have seen enough for this not to touch him. You never see enough to ignore this, it was something he said, so long ago. He remembered it. On a city that he took away from the shadow. The gateway opened into the utter darkness outside the pattern. He waited only for Min and Alanna to step on it before it was closed. They said nothing, one could feel what he felt, the second could understand. They knew, they understood. There was no need in talking. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to go away. To run away from a revenge that became bitter.

[Originally posted on as Barid Bel Medar @ Sometime on 1998]

There are no words to describe the help I had from, Seeker and Asha Sedai and Serafelle Sedai, Seeker for giving me the great idea of writing Elayne's letter and convincing me to do so and the help he gave me with his suggestions. And for being cursed so many times {without ever being deserved to} for making me sweat over this project. And Asha for the great suggestions she gave me. Without her, I doubt if I would have ever finished the second letter, and the hardest of the two. Serafelle Sedai for being the greatest help possible with finding and fixing foolish grammar and spelling I made. Those letters are as much their work as they are mine.

---

Elayne's First Letter to Rand

Rand,

when you will read this letter I will be already away from you, on my way to Tanchico. This letter isn't easy for me to write, in fact it's the hardest thing that I have ever had to do in my life, but I have to. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. To you and me. The moments we have together in the last days were so romantic, I savor every moment of them. Leaving you will sear my flesh, will burn my very heart. There are things I must do, no matter how much I would have preferred to stay with you. You understand duty, you would understand that I must follow mine.

I would miss you so much, even now, before I even left my heart tremble when I'm thinking of leaving you. I would miss talking to you, laughing with you, and kissing you. But more than all, I would miss you. I couldn't say it to your face, and even now it is hard to me.

There is no easy way to say this, I never told you this before.

I love you.

There, I said it, I love you. You are the only one that I want, because no one can compare to you. It feels so good to tell you this, to let you know what I truly feel. I couldn't find the courage to tell you this straight on the face, but I love you with all my heart. The stains on the page are tears, I can't help crying. I keep thinking I can be strong enough, but I'm not as strong as everyone thinks I am. A part of me is screaming I can't leave you, that it's insane leaving you. You're my love, my heart, and my soul.

I love you with all my heart, I can't put into words how much I love you. Words are just not enough You are the only light for me, one that make the sun look weak. I haven't known you for a long time, and I already feel as though I've known you my whole life. I can't begin to imagine what my life would be like without you. If there is one thing that I do know, it is that I will always love you. To the end of time.

I couldn't go away without telling you this, without making sure that you would know that all I dream about is you, when I'm asleep I turn and toss with dreams of you in my head. Every time I look in you and see the man I love my heart misses a beat, and my knees tremble.

Every night I see you in my dreams, you are my heart, my soul. You give me strength when I am weak. When you hold me close, I want to cry, for I love you so much it hurts inside. I love you, my beloved, my heart, my soul, and my love. You allow me to be me, and you let me be no one but myself.

We had such fun talking and laughing together. Whenever I am with you, I hear a bell ringing, and I think of you every single minute, day, hour, and second. I can't get you out of my mind, and I can't even dream of wanting to.

I want you to know that treasure every single minute I spent with you is something deep in my heart.

By the time you read this I will be gone. I know I need to tell you my feelings I couldn't have left you without knowing you know how much I feel for you.

I love you unconditionally, and when you hold me in your arms I feel as though I have been lifted on a cloud and brought to heaven. The world disappears when I'm around you, being with you, I can hardly stand up, you make me shiver inside, make my knees get weak. When we go out in public I feel as though I should stand up on something and scream that this man and I are in love and he is mine. I just want to let the whole world know that I love you and always will love you.

I know in my heart you love me, I feel like I can't live without you. All I can think of is you. I feel as if I have loved you all my life.

I feel I am alone without you. As if some part of me is not there. My heart was crushed by the heavy weight of sadness when I had to leave you. I feel that I could never be whole again without you on my side. You have became a part of me, a part of my soul you stole together with my heart.

I love you so much. You were everything I'd ever asked for, I'd ever wanted. Words can not describe the way I felt when we talked. I could have talked forever, as long as it would have been with you. It was like we were enclosed in a bubble, just the two of us. Only the two of us, in a world that was only ours.

I have never had so many feelings for anyone. You mean more to me than life itself, my life had become an empty space which I can't seem to fill. Which only you can.

It hurts so much inside, leaving you. Since the day I met you, I knew that you were the one for me. I can't stop thinking about you. I need you so much. I miss kissing your soft, sweet lips. I miss you holding me in your arms.

At first, I didn't understand what I felt, but when I saw you again it came back ten times greater than before. I didn't know what was happening until I caught myself daydreaming about how I would feel in your arms. After weeks of denying it, I have to admit that you are the one I want. The only one I want.

You will be always in my mind, Rand. Think of me.

With all my love,

~Elayne

 

---

Some notes about this letter: First, it was suggested to me as a challenge to try to write Elayne's letters. I accepted the challenge and made a research both in the web and in the books. Here are some conclusions I reached due to this research:

Elayne wrote this letter when she left Tear. The whole letter was aimed to bind Rand to her. At the time she thought that Berelain might want Rand, and the whole idea was to make sure that Rand would realize whom he should choose. Elayne said, in tSR, that the letter "set her heart open for him". And Rand said that this letter had "set his ears aflame". This is all I have in the books to lean on.

 

---

Elayne's Second Letter to Rand

Rand,

I, as you, have duties, but there is a limit even to duty. All the actions I have done in the past few days in the Stone were done for Andor.. But even the sake of Andor can't make me pretend anymore that I love you. Soon I will be Aes Sedai, and take the three oaths. The first oath allows no lies, so there is no reason to continue pretending when I will be forced to tell you the truth as soon as I become Aes Sedai.. I obviously overestimated your wits and intelligence. I thought you were wiser than you have shown yourself to be in the past few days. But, like any other man, you are so concerned with yourself that you think that anyone else should be too. Maybe someday you can find a woman fool enough to love you, though I doubt it gravely. Until that day I have no wish to see you again. And I trust you not to try to force your presence on me. You are one of the cruelest and coldest men I have ever met in my life, but I hope that you still have some manners, but I hope that you still have some decency left, even if you have a heart of stone. Or perhaps no heart whatsoever.

~Elayne

 

---

Some notes about this letter: About this letter we have even less information than about the first one, if this can be possible. "another [letter] making him wonder whatever he had grown fangs and horns like a Trolloc." and "one [letter] full of love. The second ripped him better than Aviendha ever had." and "both letters were exact opposites of one another." That is all we have about this letter directly in the books. What is hinted is that it was enough to make Rand so angry he would topple down the Stone. And also that it was enough to make him doubt her love for him even with the first letter and messages saying that she loves him from Egwene.

[Originally posted on as Barid Bel Medar @ 27 June 1999]

"She was raped and tortured, more than once." Rand's voice held no emotion whatsoever. The voice of a man dead while his heart still beat. He knelt near the crumpled body of the golden hair woman. His face was blank as he forced Elayne's jaw open, the teeth were all broken and cracked, Min saw.

"Whatever they wanted to know, she didn't tell them." Rand continued, still emotionless. That was about all Min's stomach could handle, her knees could support her weight no longer, she fell to the ground, emptying her stomach for what seemed to be enternity. Sobs nearly tearing her body apart.

"No!" Someone whispered, "It can't be!" Distantly Min recognized Nynaeve've voice. There were tears in the woman's voice as well.

"It happened," Rand said. "Where are Birgitte, and Aviendha? I want to get the two of them out of here as soon as I can manage that."

Nynaeve's face were covered with moistness, but she answered still, silent sobs sending shivers through her body. "Birgitte... Birgitte is no longer with us."

"The Bond," Rand said coolly, "With Elayne dead, it affected Birgitte as well. It didn't happened long ago, the body is still worm. Whoever killed her, they couldn't have gone away."

"Is that is all you can think about?" Nynaeve demanded, "Catching those who did it to her, not a single thought about mourning her? She loved you, you damned man!"

"And I loved her," Hearing that, while knowing the truth, Min still founded herself doubting the man's words. A corpse sounded more alive than Rand.

"But she is no longer," He glanced at the body, he arranged the naked body a little, not enough to hide what was done to Elayne. The eyes Rand close didn't wipe the look of pain and terror and horror that was imprinted on Elayne's face. "This is nothing but an empty corpse." He rose to his feet, "I don't think I'll manage to attend the funeral, Nynaeve." His voice was still emotionless, hard, cold, but tears flows down his face.

"I'll find them, who did it, and when I do, they will beg to be given to the Dark One." It wasn't a shout, but it was a cold promise. Min believe it. In a heartbeat, he was gone, leaving her alone, to deal with her greif on her on, while he dealt with his own greif, hunting those who caused it.

Aviendha hated being confined back, away from battle, but she had given her word, and she wouldn't break it. Certainly not when it was Rand al'Thor she promised to keep herself in a safe place. Rand al'Thor, who was and wasn't the man she loved. Min touched her arm, and pointed north, "Look," Was all she said.

Aviendha stared north, her eyes went wide, half in surprise, half in sorrow. Fire, a mountain made of fire, was visible at distance. The Pit of Doom was few thousands miles away from the Blight border, but even so, Aviendha felt the slight warming of the air as soon as that fire appear. It could resource only from Shayol Ghul, where Rand al'thor had went to. Went to die for a world that gave him nothing but sorrow.

"Strangely," Min said slowly, "I don't think that I can grief him."

"He died together with Elayne, Min," Aviendha said, there were tears on Min's face, as well on her own, but there was no point mentioning it, "Our grief ended long ago, he closed his heart with Elayne's death. The body remained, the sense of purpose, but it was nothing but the Dragon. Rand al'Thor died the with the Queen of Andor."

"We should have been able to do something," Min insisted. "We loved him, the Light forsake my soul! There was something we could have done."

"You gave birth to his son, Min." Aviendha reminded the dark woman, "I don't think he had even been aware that he has a son, or that we love him. I don't think he was very much human. All he cared about was the destruction of the Shadow."

"Still," Min argue, then she silenced, the fire at the distance died, "And so it ends, Aviendha."

Aviendha took off her eyes from the horizon, where the fire burned and died. The battle hadn't die, she saw, the Last Battle, a diversition only, and a costly one, she saw Trollocs and Shadowspawn cutting their way through her people, Aiels died in countless numbers. She could not stop the tears, she realized, even while he wove saidar to destroy as much Shadowspawn as she could. Fire and Earth and Water and Air and Spirit, all the five power in endless attack.

She still held to the female half of the One Power when the ground began to tremble and shake. And a rift appeared in the Blight's border, ten miles across, twenty miles deep, following the trail of the Blight border. Unable to do a thing, she watch as half the huge army Rand had gather either fell into that huge rift or been swayed into the Blight, the unreachable Blight, now.

"And a remant of the remant he shall leave of you," She whispered, and left Min on the isolated hill, that was the time to join her people. As few of them as remained.

[Originally posted on as Barid Bel Medar @ 5 March 2000]

[This was written with the aid of A Lanfir, Lady Selinthia, Alanna ]

The White Tower existed for three thousands years, and the Novices and Accepted in the White Tower are bound by almost as many rules. No Novice or Accepted has ever become Aes Sedai without at least once finding herself breaking one of those laws. Most often, the punishment fitting the crime is nothing more than a few extra chores, in some cases, it might be even switching, but the girl who broke the law would soon learn how either to avoid being caught or avoid breaking the laws again. Each law is a tiny string tied to those girls, and the laws are nearly unbreakable for those girls by the time they are ready to become Aes Sedai.

Taim tried to create a system of rules for the Asha'man to follow, but soon after he betrayed the Light, Logain discarded most of Taim's work. Unlike the White Tower, and without a doubt in purpose to become as different from the White Tower he loathed, Logain never tried to control the Asha'man by making them obey any kind of law. The Black Tower's Code is short and simple, with severe punishments to those who break it, death is the most common of them, thought not the worst.

Most of those who would read those books, narrating the history of those early days of the Black Tower know the Code by heart. For those of you who lack that knowledge, the Code forbid the misuse of the One Power, forbid the Asha'man and their warders of committing illegal activities using the One Power. The Code lists the forbidden actions, as well as the punishment for those who would break the Code.

Stolen kisses, as forced Bond sometimes named, are considered among the worst crimes any Asha'man can commit. But the punishment for that can never be death, in the Asha'man's eyes, it's much worse. There are several exceptions, of course, a woman's agreement is unnecessary when the Bond might be the only thing that can save her life, and there is no action forbidden for an Asha'man who tries to protect his warder from a danger.

In the Asha'man's eyes, the White Tower's rules are nothing but a spider net. In the Black Tower, a man in the blacks has far more freedom than any woman can have in the White Tower. The common opinion in the Black Tower regarding the White Tower is that living in the White Tower is like being trapped in a dungeon.

Yet, as the Asha'man are well aware of, in the White Tower the walls are made of thin silk, in the Black Tower, the walls are made of hard, cold steel.

The History of the Black Tower, volume I
By Elmindreda al'Thor
The Court of the Sun
The Forth Age

"Mierin! Come over here, woman!" Lews Therin shouted, and she was wrapped in weaves of Air to drag her to him. Her mind dazzled, still screaming in vain of the horrors she had seen heartbeats ago. She tried to gather her thoughts back to coherently. She needed to think. "I need a link, I can't hold this for long all by myself," the tall man snapped at her. One glance at the parts she saw of the taint's prison sufficed her to understand. She embraced saidar instinctively, and gave him the control of the power that flowed through her. She felt him opening, letting her enter. And then he caught her, and she was no longer in control of saidar. It was something they had done countless times during their time as students together. It almost felt like the old days, and Mierin’s heart ached for only one moment. It was so much stronger than it used to be. Everything was changed, but some things would never change. Lews Therin was still the man who could dip deeper into saidin than any other. He channelled through her, the strongest ever among the females able to touch saidar, and the strongest sa'angreals ever to be created. They were linked together in a strike that could save or destroy the world. For a heartbeat she shivered in ecstasy, but the sweetness of saidar kept increasing, and crossed the edge of pain. And she began to fear.

He drew saidar through her and the sa'angreal shaped as a woman with a crystal globe held above her head. He kept drawing saidin as well, using the statue shaped as a bearded man to link him to the huge replica of that foot tall statue. The ecstasy she felt from him was overwhelming, so much of the One Power, but the ecstasy did not diminish the fear, and even though Mierin knew it was impossible to burn out while linked. But it was very possible to die...

Mierin woke up panting, and embracing saidar, very close to her limit. While dreaming! She thought angrily: I could have bloody killed myself! She sat right up in bed, trying not to awake Narishma and forced herself to let go of the True Source, action hated. What is happening to my dreams and me? She wondered. Now that the fear was controlled as much as possible, she thought she should regain control of her dreams again, but not when she slept the sleep of pure exhaustion, this days? She had not entered Tel'aran'rhiod ever since she joined Lews Therin's forces. And her dreams were... hard to control. Nightmares, not dreams; is her waking mind refused to face such difficulties, her mind would challenge them in the sleep. There had to be a way out of so much stress. It was either nightmares or madness. Still, she wasn't so sure going mad would be that bad. Those nightmares... they were linked with her deepest inner feelings, and always about the Cleansing or Narishma. Or both.

She feared losing Narishma, but the bond was a constant, endless, comfort. He was near her and he loved her. The bond was soothing, reassuring. It even lessened her jealousy a bit. She had seen the looks of that girl from the Borderlands, Beldeine, of course. But Narishma’s feelings showed her enough of his annoyance towards the girl. Mierin smiled faintly. Still, she wouldn't ignore the girl, of course. She should... talk to the girl some time soon.

Since she had dealt with Ilyena, the turmoil inside of her was vanishing slowly. The worst of the horror and fear were calming down, and gave room to other feelings. Love for Narishma was one thing; the memory of the actual Cleansing was the other. That feeling of ecstasy, of being one with the Power, and to the man that could draw more of the Power than anyone, man or woman,ever could, Lews Therin. She and Lews Therin linked, with the sa'angreals used. She heard her own words again, words from long ago, from another life.

We could challenge the Creator, she had once said. The words had been true, then. But she doubted if she truly understood the might of those two small figures. Mierin smiled, a soft expression on her face. I told him we could challenge the Creator, or replace the Great Lord, the Dark One, himself. And we did just so, we challenged Shai'tan, and we won. This time, that is. But we did. Smiling, she lied back in bed and cuddled against Narishma, listening to even, slow breathing. She thought everything over and over again, enjoying the one thing that she could savor in her memories of the Cleansing. The amount of Power they had wielded.

Who would you rather have at your side when you have the ter'angreals in your hands again, Mierin ? A voice in her mind suddenly asked her. Would it be Lews Therin or Jahar Narishma ? Lews Therin is the stronger one... but you love Narishma. So who would it be ?

Slowly, she got up and climbed out of bed, there would be no more sleep today, or tonight, whatever it was, it was hard, telling the time of the day in the Dragonmount. Narishma still slept deeply, the poor man, he over-exhausted himself in Caemlyn, while she had nearly gone mad out of sheer boredom in the Dragonmount. The man seemed surprised when she traveled to him finally, seeking something, anything, to do. Then it was both of them over-exhausting themselves, trying to mend what the Asha'man did to Caemlyn.

She dressed herself quickly with a black and silver dress, Narishma was right indeed; the color fit her new body more than the white dresses she used to wear. She smiled for a heartbeat, Semirhage would have to change her entire wardrobe, it was no secret for her, that Semirhage wanted to be as different from her as possible, or the depth of the woman's hate for her. The grin fade away quickly enough, now, Semirhage would have any encouragement from the Great... Dark One to hunt her down. Still, even Semirhage was better than dying, slightly better. She bent down to brush a kiss on Narishma's forehead and walked silently out of the room. She needed to think, and she knew where she wanted to do that. Balance, where they have cleansed saidin held the ter'angreal she wanted no longer, but she thought that she knew how to reach the place where Lews Therin kept them. And how to get through the wards he no doubt wove. She just wanted to watch the female statue, the ter'angreal that could link any woman that could channel to the great sa'angreal on Tremalking. Just watching. She needed to think.

Leanna was only half awake, when the door to her bedchamber banged open; Halima stumbled through it, her black breech and shirt were rumpled, as if she slept in her cloths; she was coatless and her barefoot. She also walked very strangely, as it the touch of her feet against the floor hurt her terribly. "Help me!" The woman whispered hoarsely, she certainly sounded as if she was in pain. "I'm about to die!" Halima swayed, about to collapse.

"What happened?" Leanna exclaimed, jumping off the bed and hurrying to the woman, the single blanket she used nearly tripped her feet. To the sound of her voice, Halima groaned and nearly fell. Leanna caught the smaller woman easily, Halima weight close to nothing. Her eyes searched for wounds. There weren't any.

"Tell me you've Healing, Leanna." Halima begged; big green eyes were hollow and glazed. "I'm about to lose my head."

Leanna began to understand, the smell that came from the smaller woman helped, she helped the other woman to sit on the bed, "You were drinking!" She accused, loudly.

Halima winced visibly and muttered something about cruelty and women. "A soulless tried to kill me," She whispered painfully after a long time, "It's a reason enough to get drunk. I'd Logain in my bed last night, and Lews Therin tried to strangle him today! My head is about to fall off my body! And Logain promised to make acid comments about me drinking." Halima took a deep breath and continued in even lower whisper: "I can have lectures later, Leanna. I probably know them all by heart, though. All I need now is Healing." She sank back to lie on the bed, her face beautiful even while the eyes were wide with pain and her eyes red from drinking,hermouth tighten as if to stop the groans of pain. Halima put a hand on her eyes and said something in the Old Tongue that Leanna never heard before, a curse, Halima cursed more than any three drunk Logardians.

"You should have known better," Leanna said, putting a hand on the woman's forehead. Touching saidar and channeling Air and Water combined with just that much of Spirit, as weak as she had became, the Healing Nynaeve discovered was far beyond her. She could just barely heal at all! Halima gasped for air as the flows were woven. "Rough," She murmured slowly, rising to seat on the bed, bare feet dangling beside it. "But it is still effective." She rubbed her forehead for a moment. "I could never thank you enough, Leanna."

Leanna rose an eyebrow, "It would have gone by itself, Halima. You should know that much."

Halima groaned, "Like I don't know," She muttered, "But the last time I felt this way was when I was twenty three, and just finished the academy." Leanna felt that the woman wasn't really in her room anymore, not entirely at least. "Such a pretty day, it was. And the Dark One's prison was still whole. I went into a tavern and I think I drunk everything they had. The morning after I was in the other side of the world, in a sewerage, at the time, the place seemed appropriated." Halima convulsed her head, sending night black hair in every direction. If it was in disorder before, now it was a mess. "There is no point in trying to live in the past." To Leanna, it seemed that it was directed more to Halima herself than at her own direction. Now Halima was fully awake, and grimacing at her hair. "I should cut this, I think," She told Leanna, "Takes too much trouble to take care of so much hair."

"Don't you dare!" Leanna threatened, "Do you have any idea how much time it would take it to grow back?"

Halima looked surprised, "I don't intend to let it grow back," She said.

"I am not letting you do such a thing!" Leanna insisted.

Halima threw back her head and laughed, "Let me, Leanna?" There was an amused glint in her eyes, "It's my hair, that I'm talking about, not yours."

Leanna murmured few carefully chosen words; Halima face became eager. The woman was more interested in curses than Elayne! Only Halima seemed to know every curse possible, which didn't stopped her from endlessly searching new ones. "Just remain seated for one more moment, Halima." She ordered and walked to a rocky table on the other side of the room. She didn't look at the mirror hanging there; she didn't want to know how she looked at the moment. Logain claimed she looked lovely at the morning, she would believe that sweet liar when the sun turn blue. She was not a morning person.

She took a wide ivory brush from the table and returned to Halima. The woman Leaned back on her elbows and grinned in a way that made Leanna want to throw the brush in her face. Leanna hide a yawn behind her hand and nearly stumbled on the blanket she had thrown carelessly on the floor before. Something caught her in mid fall, returning her to her balance, she shuddered; it was beyond weird, having a woman channeling saidin on her.Halima laughed; apparently she was amused by Leanna's muttered words. "What are you going to do? Beside making me save you from falling flat on your bottom?" Halima asked, curiosity was probably what held her on her seat, Logain couldn't make Halima obey him without forcing his will on her through the Bond, Halima was strong in the power, most often that came with strong willpower as well. Not that she had noticed any strong willpower in the woman before she knew who she was truly was, but the woman had to be some will to stop her from drawing too much of the power. Whatever it was that made Halima stay in her place, as long as she remained seated, Leanna didn't care.

She scrambled onto the bed behind Halima, she should really get a larger one, if Logain wouldn't have been so bloody modest she could have used his bed; but no, the man insisted that she would have a room and a bed of her own, if the thing deserved the title a bed, the novices' beds were softer. Not only that she had to had a bed and a room she neither wanted nor loved, she had to use them, Logain's bed was much more comfortable. Especially when he was in it!

Modesty! Sooner or later, she would have to do something about it, when she would see the man next; she wasn't about to let herself being swayed by sweet words and a farm boy's modesty!

"I'm about to take care of what you neglected." She told the other woman sharply. Grabbing a handful of raven black hair. "And you are about to explain me everything you just said." She began moving the brush through Halima's hair. The woman had beautiful hair shining like black cascade, thick and heavy, there seemed to be nothing unbeautiful in Halima, save her tongue, of course, Toviene threatened to wash the woman's mouth with some soap. Halima only grinned expectantly, hearing that, she didn't have saidin then, but she still looked as dangerous as a boar with a bad tooth, Toviene never brought that subject up again.

Be that as it may be, Leanna couldn't let the woman simply cut her hair, she didn't know what she was talking about. "What exactly did I said that you're interested to hear more about?" Halima asked, she sounded amused. But at least she hadn't protested. The woman was either amused or in fury, with nothing in between.

"Start from the gray man trying to kill you." Leanna told the woman, setting the brush aside and beginning to untie all the knots in Halima's hair with her hands, one night sleep, and she might have to use saidar to return Halima’s hair to the way it should be.

"A gray woman," Halima corrected her, "She was in my room, waiting," Halima shivered, it was nearly invisible, but Leanna could feel the shiver passing through the woman's body. "I've some... advantages, recognizing the soulless. They were often used as assassins in the War of Power, and often enough one of the Chosens sent a soulless to try to kill others of the Chosens." Halima sounded as if she was asking for a cup of tea. She acted like it was nothing of any importance, or unordinary. "I think that spotting them became close to an instinct, and still I was on the brink of death, again." This time the shudder didn't end quickly. Halima pulled her knees close to her chest and wrapped her hands around them. It was clear she was afraid, terrified, maybe. What was death like, she reacted so? So far, no one dared ask.

"What did you do with the body?" Leanna asked finally, not stopping the brush for a heartbeat. She could already see it would take a long time, getting Halima's hair back in order.

Halima laughed suddenly; Leanna stare at the woman’s back in amazement she couldn’t control nor hide. "I put it in Logain's bed. He really didn't like it." Halima giggled, "Ouch!" She exclaimed suddenly, "This is my hair you’re pulling, not a horse's rein! You were the one who insisted it would stay on my head, stop trying to rip it off!" Leanna lessened her grip on the wisp of hair she was brushing.

"You did what?" Just to make a point, she gave Halima another tug in her hair.

"I thought it would be funny," Halima said defensively, "And ..."

"Funny!" Leanna knew she was very close to losing her temper entirely, "Funny! What were you thinking?"

Halima made a move as if to rise, Leanna pulled her back by her hair, "I wasn't thinking by that time," Halima said, wincing and touching her scalp gingerly. Leanna was half surprised the woman didn't used the One Power against her. The Bond again, no doubt, she would have to ask Logain, although the man tend to avoid talking about the Bond's affects so hard that it made Leanna's fingers itch, there was a secret hidden there, and she would uncover it if it would kill her, or him. "After it tried to kill me, I Traveled to The Light's End and took few ..." She stopped with a small shout of pain, "If you want to leave me no hair, Leanna, use scissors! Don't try to tear it out of my head!"

Again Leanna had to lessen her grip in the woman's hair. "The Light's End?" She muttered finally, endless disbelief in her voice, "The Tavern, in Tear? That is what you're talking about?"

"I wasn't aware that there is another tavern with that name in the world," Halima told her, "Yes, that was I referring to. You know the place?" Leanna noted coldly that her hands began brushing that midnight dark hair again, it was an automate action; her mind had nothing to do with it.

"I know the place, yes. By reputation only, the Light helps me." Leanna answered, her voice full of shock. "What were you doing there? A woman enterring there can expect rape or death or both there, to begin with! It's probably the worst place in the entire world, after Shadar Logoth and the Pit of Doom!"

"Why does nobody believe that I can take care of myself on my own?" Halima murmured, "I own the bloody place, that is what I was doing there. And I went there to take as much drink as I could carry, then I came back here and finished them all. Only then I thought it might be amusing to put the body in Logain's bed. He teased me for too long about not having a woman in his bed."

"So you decided to make sure he would have one?" Leanna said dryly. It explained the fury she felt last night. She had went with Narishma to Andor, but instead of finding Elayne, as she ordered that young man with those disturbing sets of eyes, she went to one of her eyes-and-ears in Caemlyn. It was certainly... interesting, to hear exactly what the Asha'man did in Caemlyn. Yet even in Caemlyn she felt that surge of rage as strongly as if she was standing next to him. "Why didn't you told me about it? I'm more than willing enough to help!" Too late she understood what she was saying, Halima half turned her head to look at her coloring.

"Oh?" Was the only comment that came from the other woman, and an eyebrow cocked. Leanna didn't know how many meanings you could push into a single word and an eyebrow raising. A grin appeared and vanished instantly, the woman hide amusement poorly. "Should I? He didn't take anyone to his bed since he had bonded me. That muchI know for sure. I think I would have felt that. Do you know the reason for that? Considering that he is... the man he is, it seems unlikely he wouldn't have taken you to his bed, even if his... honor kept him from me and Toviene." Halima showed nervousness talking about such things only when Logain was presented. Other wise, she was as free as any Saldean girl Leanna had ever met.

"Modesty," Leanna replayed slowly, "He can be modest in the strangest areas, for the strangest reasons."

"How does ..." Halima began, then changed whatever it was she was about to say: "I think I see his problem." She giggled, "How sad for... the two of you."

"I could do very well without your mockery," Leanna told the woman, the brush being pulled just a bit to strong. "What did he do?"

"Logain?" Halima sounded very pleased with herself, like a cat set to guard a big bowl of fishes. "He was... very angry. I think he thought that I was the body, for a little while, at least. He drank quite a bit, too, before we returned here. When he found out what he was hugging, on the other hand, he stopped being so pleased with himself."

"I can't imagine Logain as just being angry about such a thing, Halima." Leanna insisted, "What did he do?"

Halima shrugged, in a voice too casual to be natural and in the Old Tongue, her native tongue language, she said: "He force me to share my bed with him."

What woke him, he couldn't tell, at least not in those few heartbeats when he was neither awake nor asleep; he was still half asleep when he sent his hand to the other side of the bed and found it empty. It took him full three heartbeats to realize what that meant, and then he was jerked to full awareness instantly.

It was hard, to tell by the bond where exactly she was, although he could follow her everywhere, using the bond as a guide. Which was exactly what he was about to do. It took him less than a moment to found a pair of breach... he did not bothered himself with shoes or shirt this time ... but he was out almost instantly, following that tie that bonded him to his troublesome wife.

After a while, he began to run, there were few things he rather not think about. Like his wife's age, for example, or the greediness he felt from her while she watched the ter'angreal that allowed them to cleanse saidin, or what his wife was before she was his wife.

Light burn my soul along with hers, Narishma thought in fury he couldn't control. Why does she need the bloody ter'angreal? Never once he doubted where she went.

He raced the silent corridors, but still there were sounds in the hallways of the Dragonmount, saidin filling him, doors flashing to his sides as he run as fast as he could. Shouts in male and female's voices, angry voices muttering in the dark, he heard sobs more than once, and a man cursing. Once, he almost stumbled, hearing the clash of steel against steel. But it slowed him for a heartbeat only. After few moments of running, he turned into a small corridor, the rocks in gray and brown and tanned yellow, wherever she was, she wasn't in any place of the Dragonmount that held a single human being save her.

The balls of fire, made of saidin, illuminate the Dragonmount endlessly, yet they were dimmed now, it must have been night; it was hard to tell, after so long not seeing the sun. He nearly run into a very surprised young woman who held all but useless candle and gaped fearfully at him, and his fury surged higher, the girl couldn't be more than seventeen, most probably not even that. What did she have to do here, in the deserted part of the Dragonmount? Fleeing her bondholder, no doubt. He will take care of that later, he vowed to himself silently, not stopping his run. He took another turn, into another one of those corridors that seemed identical; still, it would lead him to Mierin, eventually.

He came to a halt suddenly, breathing hard, feeling abash, why he had to run when he had saidin? The corridor was unfamiliar to him, although he was part of the circle creating this place. But there were other ways beyond Traveling; something called Skimming. Not something he practiced much with, but he knew the weave nevertheless.

The platform move half a step or less, before it came to a halt, and he stepped into a hall that wasn’t surrounded in dim twilight, with a ball of utter darkness, tenfeet across and floating a foot in the air. Wrongness radiated from it, not unlike the feeling that Shadowspawn caused him. Something inside him suggested that trying to break through wouldn't be a wise thing to do. Light, he nearly burned himself out, unweaving the traps around callandor, and he had the key then!

Halima insisted on giving names for each one of the halls, the same as she did with Balance, where he had touched cleansed saidin for the first time. This hall was named Horror, a good choice, in Narishma’s eyes.

The hall was brightly illuminated; lighten by several balls of Light that hadn't been dimmed in the night. The halls were always lightened. Mierin stood in the very middle of it, staring at a ball of darkness, nearly twice her height. "Narishma," She said, not looking at him, "I didn’t thought you might follow me."

"To the Pit of Doom and back, if necessary, you should already know by now." He told her coldly, "What are you doing here?"

She gave him a surprised glance, surprised! "Watching this, of course," She pointed at the ball of darkness, "What else can I do, here?"

"I can think of several other things that the two of us can do," He told her wryly, "In bed, not here. Most of them should be more pleasant than staring at a big ball of blackness that you'll never be able to break through."

"I'm not so sure about it," She told him absently, reaching out with a hand toward the darkness, he caught her hand before it came close enough to be dangerous. "It wasn't hard, breaking the wards that guarded this room."

"Are you insane, Mierin?" He asked her, "You have just alarmed whoever set this wards, Rand, most probably, and you can't even see saidin to begin breaking through this ward, I wouldn't try, and I can see the flows!" Well, part of them, most of the ward was inverted, but not all of it. What he saw made the traps lied on Callandor seems invitation to any common thieve by comprehension. "This is here to prevent people from taking the bloody ter'angreals, and it was Rand who wove it, the Lews Therin you admire so. I doubt if he would have left a hole for you to break through."

"There is always a hole, Narishma. And I've a... knack for it, you might say, almost a talent," Bitterness was evident in the back of his head for a moment, "Not that it helped me much, before, but I still have the talent for this." She told him, putting a hand on his chest; he truly hoped she couldn't feel his pulse racing. "There is always a way, all it would take is some time and I will break this ward, but it would be much faster if you would help me, of course." The way those blue eyes glinted...

"Forget it, Mierin." He told her, "I've no intention of even trying!"

"A very wise decision, Asha'man Jahar Narishma." An extremely cold voice said, "You seems to have some common sense, after all. You, on the other hand," The Lord Dragon continued in a frosty voice, "forget everything the moment you see a chance for power!"

Mierin spun around and looked at Lews Therin in utter shock. Her heart was pounding in her chest fearfully, and she said somewhat breathlessly: "So you felt me breaking through the wards." Not that it was a surprise, but still, she thought she would have more time here, alone. Or just with Narishma. She was very careful, but she must have missed one.

"Of course I did, you fool, the wards was weaved to alarm me had anyone tried to break them," he snapped, his eyes blazing with a gray fire. Just like Lews Therin, Rand al'Thor had a tendency to recite the obvious. "What in the name of the Light were you planning to do here?" Unlike Narishma, he was fully dressed, blue coat and paler breach, with gold and silver laurel leaves embroidered on the coat.

"I needed to think," she said coolly, seeking support with Narishma, but he did not help her the slightest bit. "I only wanted to ... " Blue fire burned in his eyes, she refused to flinch away.

" ...grab the ter'angreal, and embrace saidar, wouldn’t you?" The man sneered. "I can't believe it! We've had this argument too many times before, Lanfear! You said we could take over the world, challenge the Creator, The Dark One, the Light knows what more you wanted to conquer! What do you want now? One fight against the Dark One wasn't enough for you? Or have you forgot the lesson you were thought in Collam Daam?" Mierin jerked back, unready for the accusation she had seen in the man's eyes. Collam Daam was a mistake, but one she, and the world, paid high price for.

For a moment she did not know what to answer, the hate in his voice still hurt her sometimes, despite the fact that she did not love him so dearly anymore. Then she straightened her back and said softly: "I remembered the feeling of us linked, and the Power we wielded. It felt so wonderful, Lews Therin, I can't forget the feeling. I wanted to feel it again."

"And what would you want to do with it?" Narishma suddenly burst out furiously. "Burn you, Mierin, you could kill yourself, using that ter'angreal! Did you even have the slightest idea for what you wanted to use it? Killing the Dark One, perhaps?"

"The only ones," Lews Therin added, in an acid voice, "who can touch those statues, Mierin, are those I will allow them to. And the woman I would give the one made for females to touch would never be you."

"Are you going to use them for the Last Battle?" She asked, still breathless. She hated the fact that both Narishma and Lews Therin were angry with her, but she needed to know. Strange, the last time she felt like this... she couldn't recall such an occasion. If only she had her own body, tall and dark and beautiful, it would have been different. In her true body, this would have never happened to her. She never had to raise her eyes to stare at a man's face before, for example.

"That's none of your business, Lanfear." he sneered. She winced when she heard him use the name she took for herself once; every time he did it, it was filled with hate and disgust. "This place is none of your business. Asha'man Jahar Narishma, take her out of here, and be sure to pay a little more attention at her, it doesn't seem that she can be trusted, walking around freely. When you're done with her, report to Logain, it's two hours to dawn, and there is much to be done."

"As you command, my Lord Dragon." Narishmasaid coolly; Mierin winced away from Narishma's touch when he took her wrist in his hand and pulled her out of the Hall. And as he dragged her through the corridor, muttering curses under his breath, she looked over her shoulder and saw Lews Therin staring after her, there would be new wards guarding Horror, far stronger. All for nothing, she thought sadly. But I will get in there very soon. And then I will break through and get the ter'angreal.

Narishma abruptly stopped walking and she stumbled into him when he held still to make a Gateway into the utter blackness of the outside of the pattern. This short a distance, they should have been able to Traveled to their rooms directly, or maybe wasn't Narishma strong enough to do that?

"We need to talk," he said. His feelings through the bond were a mixture of shame and anger and jealously. "A very long talk indeed. I would never have thought you'd behave so childish."

They stepped through, and as the Gateway winked out, Mierin told him: "What I did, was not childish. I needed to think, and I was just dreaming."

"About what, Mierin, what in the name of the Light did you want to do? I felt pure greed when I walked in, greed!" He was yelling at her.

Mierin sat down on their bed and fingered a shirt Narishma had left on the bed absently. "Just to have that feeling again. And to use it for revenge, to kill Moridin, for what he did to me. To assure myself, and you, of power and safety." She looked up, but not at him. She did not dare to look him in the eyes. He was furious. "Imagine what we could do together with such an amount of Power. I felt Lews Therin sending the taint to the Dark One's prison; it was all the strength of the Creator, stronger, perhaps. Imagine, Narishma, what we together could do with it. We could hunt down the Forsakens and smash them, and finally, at last, we could win the Last Battle for Lews Therin. It should be easy enough to kill the Dark One." Now she had the courage to look at her bondholder, her lover, her husband, again.

She watched him intently, trying to figure out what he felt inside. His feelings were turmoil of greater anger, tiredness and coldness. When he spoke, his voice was as acid as Lews Therin's had been. "We don't have the right of meddling in the Dragon's business. Don't you think Rand did not already thought about those things? He clearly does not choose to do so. And we follow him, so we obey. Do you want to be forced to swear you fealty to him like those Aes Sedai, follow his orders anywhere? Kissing his feet, scrubbing his floor? You are behaving like a child, Mierin, like a stubborn little brat."

"Such oath mean nothing to me, Narishma." She told him coldly, love or no love, there was only that much she was ready to take. She might be willing to take this from Lews Therin, but only because she had to. None other would be allowed to talk to her the way Narishma just had, even if she loved him. She almost broke, seeing the stunned look on his face. Such an oath only a Darkfriend would dare breaking. She jumped off the bed and hugged him intently. "I don’t want you to be angry with me Narishma. But if there is no other choice, than you can be angry as much as you would like. That’s me, and you can either accept me or leave me." She would have never dare say such a thing to Lews Therin, but Narishma couldn't leave her, ever.

He moved away from her arms and put his hand under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. "You'll not do it again, Mierin. Not ever," He commanded quietly, "I'll not let you ..." She gave him no chance to finish, her hand moved before she was aware of it,slapping him, opening herself to saidar and using Air to strengthen her slap. She winced, feeling his pain; he stumbled and fell, tripping on his own feet. She slid a shield between him and the One Power. Already regretting that she had let her temper provoke her so, but she wasn't ready to back up now.

She felt him reaching for saidin, blocked by her shield. Dark eyes burned in tamed fury. "I've might agreed to be your wife, Jahar Narishma, and lover and friend as well, but I am not, and never will be your obedient slave." She couldn't back away now, and it was better to make it clear to him what he had gotten himself into. Men had difficulties sometimes, understanding exactly how much you were ready to give them. They always wanted to have more, as much as they could take, not as much as a woman was ready to give. "Let me? Let me?" For a moment, flames danced in her hand, ready to be hurled at the man, "Let me explain it for you, in terms you would understand," She shouted, calmly shouted. Weaving Air to yank him from the floor, "I'm not a man's toy, any man's toy, to be ordered around, nor a dog or a cat or a sheep or whatever it is that pass around it this pitiful excuse for civilization as a pet." She stopped so she could inhale some air, and glare at him while stomping the carpet with her right foot. The nerve the man had, "That is important, Narishma, so listen very carefully. I'm not a toy or a pet or anything similar, understood?" She let go of the weaving of Air that held him, he collapse to the floor on hands and knees, his entire body shivering, he made soft sounds that might have been sobs, only she could feel that he wasn't crying.

She was ready to an argument, shouts, something! She stilled herself to face hate or scorn. She was not ready at all for Narishma's reaction when he finally rose from the floor. He touched his cheek gingerly; Mierin could feel the pain of the bruise. That incredible... man laughed! At her! What right did he have to laugh at her?

The pressure against the shield was gone when he fell on the floor. Narishma flowed toward her, his motions smooth and even, a dancer's walk, or a fighter. Mierin suspected that Narishma might be good both as a fighter and as a dancer, not that she had a chance to find out. The first she wasn't willing to test, the second she might be eager to try, just as soon as she would overcome that urge to strangle that sullen heap of fusty Darghakar's vomit! She poured in his face every cursed she knew, in half a dozen languages, from the Old Tongue to the Trollocs’ Tongue to this barbaric new language people talked with, a twisted version of the language she was raised with. None of that wipe the smile off Narishma's face. He came closer, his grin widening. "I assume I deserved that, Mierin." He told her, he was so close to her that he had to lower his head to meet her eyes. "You're very strong."

"There was never a woman stronger than I am," She told him slowly, he shouldn't have been that amuse, he shouldn't have been amused at all! "And very few that were equal."

"Be that as it may be, Mierin, I still have to report to Logain. I'll be seeing you later this day, evening, night, whatever it is." He kissed her shortly, not a passionate kiss, a light kiss that showed no anger, she could not feel any anger in him either.

"Narishma...?" Her voice made him turn his head to her, he was near the door already, but somehow, he crossed the space between them almost instantly, her husband, her lover, her hero.

He cupped her chin in his hand, "You obviously knows nothing about Arafel, Mierin." He whispered to her, smiling, "Have no fear, though, I'll take great pleasure teach you about my home land." And then he kissed her again, certainly a passionate kiss, her knees trembled, and she clutched to him, sucking air into starved lungs as the kiss finally ended. "I'm sorry, Mierin, but I really do need to leave now." He whispered into her ear, and left.

She fell back on the bed and glared at the ceiling. "I really hate that man!" She told the empty room. "Hate him!" How dares he act this way? Men weren't supposed to laugh when she used saidar against them! Most often they creamed; that... Jahar Narishma was simply intolerable.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and fled to the place where she always went, when she wanted to think, to the tiny crack between Tal'aran'rhiod and the Waking World. Where only dreams existed, and dream walkers. And at this age, at least, there would be no men among those who could dream walk! She had enough of men for three life times! A decision that would survive only until Narishma would near enough to be kissed. It was shameful, in a way, the way she lost all control over herself upon being in his presence. She thought that she should’ve gotten used to making a fool of herself over men. But she never seemed to cease amazing herself in that field of her life.

Why, by the grace of the Light, did she have to fall in love with him? Certainly she should have just a little more self-control. Why, oh Light, did he had to be so wonderfully charming? And those lovely eyes of his, the way he stared at her sometimes was enough to set ...It would lead her to nowhere, she know. Love! Bah! The only thing that love had ever brought her was troubles! The problem was, one couldn't quite decide whatever to love or not, and self-control wasn't one of the quality she ever had, at least not when it was her heart who decided to fall for a man.

A question formed in her head, the answer lied right before her, as she stated the countless candle lights, another would have needed years to find out what she wanted to know, for her, it couldn't take more than few hours. And for that little while, she could put Narishma out of her head. It was just so unfair! Men weren't supposed to be hard to understand! At least, they weren’t in her age, how much the women had been reduced, to let the men act so? In her time, it would have never allowed to happen!

---

The room seemed endless; Runea couldn't see the three other walls, only the one with the huge opening the girl, Elayne, had led them too. An endless room, and still, it seemed congested. Food lied in piles everywhere she looked, as far as her eyes went. And each pile was at least fifteen feet high!

"The Light burns my soul!" Lemai muttered slowly, "There is enough food here to feed a nation forten years!"

"Not quite," Elayne said, but there was a glint of amazement in her eyes, too. "According to Min, there are seven more rooms like this, scattered all over the Dragonmount, each hold as much as this one, Rand had nearly emptied Tear of its food reserves, taking so much food. It should suffice for every need you might encounter." She stopped to breath and continued, her tone holding the tiniest bit of pride, "There should be enough food here for five hundreds thousands people for a month."

"He doesn't think small, doesn't it?" Toviene murmured loudly, "He doesn't seem to think big either!"

Elayne nodded in agreement, Runea couldn't understand why the two woman were so fond of one another, like a childhood friends, Toviene should have hate the woman, the same as Runea despised her. "He does have a tendency to thing in huge dimensions every now and then." The golden hair woman said, and smiled.

Turning her eyes from the two women, Runea took a second look in the room, to her left, she saw sacks of grains stretching as far as the eyes could see, each of them ten times her weight, if she wasn't mistaken. To the right, fruits and vegetables lied in labeled barrels, she saw every kind of fruit possible, and the same went for the vegetables too.

They all stood near the single gate that led to the room, also huge, easily fifty feet wide if not more, and at least twenty feet tall. The food was clearly arranged so it would be easily accessed to those who would come through the room's entrance. Directly in front of her, in a line that seemed to goes forever, she suspect there would be any kind of meat possible. She grimaced slightly; she didn't like very much the taste of salt meat, or smoked meat, for that matter.

And considering that the food came from Tear, no doubt there would be more fishes than meat in those storerooms. She liked fishes less than salted meat. "It's not logical," Giliar said slowly, her face still not bearing the agelessness mask all Aes Sedai had. Runea had heard that Giliar had troubles deciding what ajah to choose, the White or the Green.

"What isn't?" Runea said, walking forward until she faced a barrel of pears taller than she was, and twice as wide. She couldn't touch saidar, an order from Jonan's lips left the power as far from her as the moon, she saw no way to move the barrel without the One Power. "How are we supposed to take the little we need from here?" She asked the others angrily. Few moments alone ago, the amount of food needed for a thousand women ... none of them had any intentions to make food for the Asha'man as well; as far as Runea care, they could all starve! And let Jonan be the first of them! ... Could have never been called small amount. But this place forced her mind into dimensions she never thought possible before.

"So much food would be rotten long before it can be of any use!" Giliar explained to Lemai, "By the time we would useany noticeable amount of the food stored here it would all rot!" As Giliar talked, Runea reached out with a hand, rising on her tiptoes, and still the cover of the barrel was beyond her. She stretched more... and Jonan was suddenly there, catching her wrist and pulling her back. She didn't felt him coming closer, but then, she did her best to ignore the other set of emotion in her hand. The set of emotion not created by saidar, the Bond that had been forced on her.

"It seemed I reached just in time," Jonan said lightly, as she stepped away from him with a glare. "This barrel is warded, Runea. It wouldn't have been pleasant for you, had you touched that."

"Of course!" Lemai sounded satisfied, "That is how the food would be preserved." Runea would have liked to see how Lemai would react had her Asha'man would have been present. As if the thought called them, Tolir Ganjad and Nofar Lemid appeared in the entrance, stepping forward with that arrogant sureness that seemed to be such a common character among the Asha'man she had met, whatever he was a Soldier, Dedicated, or gained both Sword and Dragon.

"Exactly what we needed." Toviene murmured in satisfaction, attracting everyone's eyes, not the tiniest bit of sarcasm could be heard in the Red Aes Sedai's voice.

Jonan raise an eyebrow, "Oh?" By what Runea heard, Toviene threw a bowl of soup at his face. Exactly what he deserved. The two could hardly stand each other. "You surprise me, Toviene." Her Asha'man continued, "Can it be that you begin to like me?"

Toviene sniffed at him arrogantly, "Not quite, not in your life time." She might have wanted to say more, but Elayne stepped between the two smoothly.

"What is your name?" The golden hair girl asked.

"His name is Jonan Marley," Runea said coldly, "My... bondholder." It hurt, saying that. Women were those who were suppose to hold the bond.

Elayne face became blank at that, "And the two others?"

Lemai and Giliar gave their Asha'man's names, just before the men could say a word. "Very well," Elayne smiled, "Now, Jonan, Tolir and Nofar, how much do you know about cooking?"

---

Sobs wracked her body in the aftermath of Lews Therin's damning pronouncements. She always knew, and approved, him placing duty high, but she also always thought that he placed her higher. He had always been ruthless, when ruthlessness was needed, but with the years passing, he had become harder, stronger.

When the War of the Shadow had set itself upon the world, he had been the general to save them all, the leader in a time of madness, which, as it turned out, would be perfect sanity compared to what lay ahead. And now, an Age later, he still retained that ruthlessness, even colder, harder, that he had before. His eyes polished stone and snake slits, in essence. Her knees had buckled beneath her when the man who had been her husband, her killer, Traveled away, and the background mutter and wash of color and sound from those observing swept over her senses.

They were nothing, though. All she could think of was what Lews Therin had said. He would do it again! Kill her again! Kill their children! Light damn the man! How could he say such things? How could he hurt her so?

It had been long, so very long, since she had lost control in this manner, sobbing like a child, in front on an audience, no less, and her mouth twisted in bitterness. Yet she could not stop the flow of tears.

Steps approached her, and a hand gently grasped her arm, two voices speaking, one ordering in low tone, and she was being taken somewhere. Where, she did not know, and could not make herself to care. The darkness of the stasis box, the nothing of oblivion, was preferable to the hollow grief, the emptiness, within her.

A hand pushed gently at her, then, into something soft, comforting, warm and smooth. A pillow, a comfort she deserved for sure. Ilyena Sunhair could not bring herself to open her eyes again, maybe not ever again, but she was in the perfect place to keep them close now. Sinking into troubled sleep, she heard measured breathing and a muttered comment that she could not quite make out as blackness enveloped her mind.

The darkness was comfortable, the place where everything was abandoned. It floated there, without even the smallest spark of awareness, no memories, no troubles, no grief, no pain. Nothing was, nothing will, nothing is. Time didn't exist here. Not even here truly exist. But now, something... happened, sounds were no sound could be, light, where only darkness existed. Voices, where none can be. And, where pain never was, where pain mustn't be, there was that sheering pain, stronger than belief. The darkness was being torn to shreds with careless easiness. And it was pulled through. It tried not to resist, resisting may not exist, but it resisted still. Nothing may exist, not even it. Not in the darkness that was it's home.

Nothing may exist, but something did exist, and it was the darkness that did not exist anymore, not anymore, not for it. And everything else did exist. And It too, existed where It never existed. And that was worse than the pain.

Ilyena woke with a piercing scream, the dream she had suffered the most disturbing she had even known or imagined. Not existing, not knowing what it meant to exist, only knowing as you came to exist, and yet not knowing what that was, either. The dream was loathsome, terrifying.

Pushing back sweaty tresses from her forehead, Ilyena felt the touch of eyes upon her, and swiftly turned over to her other side, only to meet the eyes of a young man dressed in black, a sword pin on his collar. Silver sword on black background, she had noticed those despite her concentration on Lews Therin, at that gathering. Most of the men had worn black, with sword and dragon pins at their throats. Some sort of symbolism, perhaps, or did Lews Therin's sense of humor had changed considerably during the long time that had passed?

"Um, are you fine?" The man said, tentatively, in vain search for something to say that would clear the tense that hung in the air of the room.

"Fine enough," Ilyena said frostily, remembering again her shameful behavior of the previous night. That would not happen again. It was understandable; in it's own way, however. The emotional implications of the meeting the man who had been her husband, her love, her friend, and murderer after so much time. Ages had passed, literally ages.

"Your name is Ilyena, aren't you?" He said hesitantly, "Mine's Valir."

"I am Ilyena Aes Sedai, and you will address me as such," her voice was icy cold and dignified. "I'm not a friend, nor even an acquaintance to you, and thus you've no right to the familiarity you've taken. Why are you in this room in which I sleep?"

"I was told to put you to bed, it's my room, let me tell you that." The man snapped, annoyed. "I was watching over you. In case you don't remember, you attacked the Lord Dragon three days ago. A lot of people here do not at all appreciate that. I stayed to prevent you from being murdered in your sleep!"

"Be that as it may," Ilyena said calmly, anger still existing. She remembered something, though, from the time before she fell asleep. Did she truly sleep for three full days? "You will leave as soon as you answer me this. The men here can channel, even with the taint, in this age of madness?"

His face lit up for a moment, and he seemed unable to resist spreading good news, no matter how she acted, no matter who she was. But still he put tight rein on his voice, forcing it to sound cool and composed. "The madness is no longer intact, Aes Sedai. The time when saidin was tainted has ended. Saidin has been cleansed. It's pure."

"Pure?" she asked, becoming caught in the conversation despite herself, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to sit straight and speak to him, meet his eyes. She had her the cloths she wore before sleeping on her still, this age was overly modest; by the little she had seen.

After just getting used to the idea of the taint, she had just been told it was cleansed. "We cleansed it. Aes Sedai and Asha'man both, together. Males and females liking for the first time in an age, we cleansed it!" He made it sound rare, men and women linking.

"You were there when it happened?" She inquired softly.

"Of course," he looked hunted for a moment, "But even if I wasn't, no man who can channel could not know it. The taint was ever present, the first thing we feel in the morning, at every meal, with every kiss, every emotion, every move, every breath, every waking moment, as we go to sleep, and in our dreams as well. And now it's gone, and saidin is pure!" his eyes glowed fervently, his voice became a whisper, "So perfectly pure,"Ilyena bestowed an indulgent smile upon him, as though to a happy child, before hardening her voice once more.

"Be that as it may, you are still not in the right place," swiftly, she guided him out, and locked the door, almost before he knew what was happening. "Go away!" She didn't thought it mattered much to him, he held a fireball in his hands and toyed with it like it was the first time he felt the One Power's touch.

Glancing about the room, the Aes Sedai sighed, seeing the starkness, the simple bed in large, wool covers and goose feather pillows, the stone floor with the woven rugs over it, the stone walls, the stone... everything. Not completely true, but close enough. She wondered where she was, then, wondering what place would be constructed on this smooth stone. What sort of environment was in? Who could live in a place that dark? Where was Lews Therin? Mentally, she flinched away from the question, but a moment later, she steeled herself, and confronted the issue.

He was no longer hers. He had not been hers for three thousands and four hundreds years. It this Moridin was to be believed, and she had no reason to doubt him, in that matter, at least.

He'd died, dwelt beyond, been reborn, and lived a life of his own. Somehow, despite being reborn, he remembered his old life, remembered being Lews Therin, her husband, lover, killer. He had done so many things that she had no part of, and they had distanced him from her, in more ways than she could count. Bitterness welled up within her at the thought of it, but she knew that it was true. She knew she could win him back, though. He had been greatly affected by her appearance, by her. What would you do if the positions were reversed? The cynical thought invaded her mind. Say: "Hi, honey. I'm glad you're home at last." I doubt that.

Scowling, she thought for some time of the words that he had hurled at her, as wounding and hurtful as arrows, piercing her heart for all time. She was bitter and angry and jealous and possessive, and so many other things, wanting to destroy him, wanting to love him, wanting him fully for herself once more, even as she wondered if she would ever forgive him for what he had done, even more so considering that he had vowed that he would do it again, should the gain be worth the price.

Damn him. Damn the man for being so cold, as cold to me as he was to his enemies, as cold as to the Shadow. As cold as the Shadow!

She did not know what she was going to do, but first things first. She would find out where she was, and knowing that she had rocked the boat, as it were, she would go to the one person that was likely not cursing her appearance. Der Cal might have found out where they were. The man had been questioned by Lews Therin, no doubt, and was likely still shaking in his boots in remembrance, as beings subjected to such questioning usually were for some time, but she could make him talk to her.

Ilyena undid her hair, smoothed the tresses and rearranged them, brushing down her clothing with efficient hands, until her appearance was relatively presentable, though nothing was to be done about the sleep smeared makeup save to wipe it away with flow of Air.... Or to her cloths straighten the best she could, all the rest of her cloths she had were left behind at the Heal of the Golden Dawn. She founded no mirrors in the room. But she looked the best she could, considering the conditions she had.

Standing straight, Ilyena exited the bedroom and walked in the hall, made of the same polished stone as the room. By all the light, she felt like being inside a cave!

---

One result of so much of the Asha'man taking themselves warders in Caemlyn and Andor had been all but ignored. While the warders did their best to deny the affect the Bond had on them, the Asha'man had tried the same, twice as much as any warder. Yet, despite the common opinion, the Bond affect the Asha'man much farther than it does on his warder. I’m a living proof for that. And as much as the Asha'man tried to avoid the trap they've set for themselves, they all fell to it eventually, one by one.

To those who were capable to watch without their emotions getting in the way, there was nothing funnier than seeing those men, thought to be the very resemblance of death in the flesh, trying to escape the chains they have woven for themselves. Especially since the warders, to the last woman, knew that, and used that against their Asha'man.

"An Asha'man with two warders has three too many," is quite a common saying in the Black Tower, sum it up accurately. The Bond prevents two warders, being held by the same man, despite, hate or even being jealous at one another. Most often, all those feeling are being directed to the Bondholder, and there was nothing the Asha'man could do but to bear the weight of their errors.

I was there to watch, to take part in what happened, and the Asha'man surely paid for their hasty actions in the space of few days only. Even now, there are few things I consider more amusing than making a man in the blacks beg for mercy.

The Sisters of Battle and the Guardians of Justice
By Halima Albar
The Forth Age
The Black Tower.

Bodiless, she floated in eternal darkness, a sea of stars was the only light she had, but the countless lights help nothing in seeing in that darkness, there was nothing to see, only burning lights over darkness. Mierin felt comfortable in that darkness, the rules were familiar here, and she knew them all by heart. Here in the between of the Waking World and Tel'aran'rhiod, she knew more, had a stronger talent than any but one. Still, not even the Spider would dare facing her here, or elsewhere, truth to be told.

But she didn't come here to admire the beauty of this place, she fled here, choosing to hide in this place rather then have another argument with Narishma whenever he would return. Out of curiosity alone, she sent herself toward Lews Therin's dreams. Shielded, of course, he strengthened his defenses since she last checked on him. But she had no interest of him now, not when she had Narishma. Still, it might be amusing to find out what he dreamed about.

At least, she hoped she still had Narishma; she couldn't be sure, despite the Bond and the way he laughed. Men were strange creatures to begin with, men of this age were stranger still, and Narishma seemed beyond human comprehension. Who would laugh at the one who just try to break his jaw? Mierin liked order, there were no confusion when you'd everything arranged, no chance for nasty traps. But she couldn't figure out Narishma, she hated not understanding, not understanding Lews Therin fully had lost him for her. She had no reason to fear Narishma leaving her, he couldn't, but still, she wouldn't find true.

The next she tried to find was Halima's, she knew the woman's dreams well, there were some slight differences, but she couldn’t have mistaken the pattern of the dream she had found, it was Balthamel's dream, Halima, as the woman called herself now. Now, enterring that woman's dreams might be something special. But unfortunately, the woman did not left her dreams unguarded. And by the way the light blinked, the woman was merely dozing off. And Mierin would’ve think twice before enterring that woman’s dreams, even if she could. Halima’s knew all the tricks she knew. And Mierin had no wish to find herself at the woman’s mercy. Still... if only she could’ve a single glance on the dreams the woman dreamed... Giggling was something girls did, not grown women, but she still giggled as she tried to find Elayne Trakand's dreams.

They, too, were shielded, but not by any female's doing, Elayne's dreams were... dim somehow, a woman's warding made a dream brighter to those who were in this place. Saidin made one's dreams dim, separated them from this place by a wall of hard steel, unbreakable to any force, while woman's warding shielded the woman's dreams with a screen that harden at touch. She search for others' dreams, all shielded as well, Demandred guarded his dreams with the deadliest traps possible, and Semirhage's dreams seemed inviting, until one foolishly dare too close, to be trapped until Semirhage released him. Being held in the worst pain Semirhage could think of. Graendel’s dreams couldn't be found; maybe the woman was awake, or worse, in Tel’aran’rhiod or this very place. Moghedien's dreams were the first she founded, she wouldn't have stayed had she didn't know that the woman wouldn't sneak behind her back.

She considered for a moment finding Beldeine’s dreams and make sure that the young woman would understand where she must not step. But the woman was an Aes Sedai, as little as that meant in this age, and there was no doubt she had shielded her dreams.

She will do that another time, maybe. Now, she had a task, coming here. It was quite easy, to find a dream of a man that could channel, to those who didn't know enough, all dreams were the same, to her, there were thousands differences between one dream to another. Strangely, there far more dreams of men that could channel than she expected, but most... she doubted not that they were fully mad of the taint, they were worse than any nightmare she had ever encountered, and she fled them as fast as she could. Even with saidin cleansed, those who went mad remained mad. Somewhere in the world there was a large group of men that could channel,thousands at least, and most of them mad. She filed that up, maybe Lews Therin would know what she was talking about, or could do some use of that. The first dream she invaded to, of a sane man that could channel,was of a Dedicated the age of seventeen, his name was Darian, and, as she hoped, he needed just little encouragement to revive the moments when he took himself two warders. The second dream was of a Soldier that goes with the name Larez that long past forty, who had only one warder. An Asha'man named Alir was the third, and he had three warders, all Maidens. On the tenth, she began suspecting, by the time she had checked twenty-five dreams, she was sure. But she continued for another twenty-five dreams, to be certain above all doubt. And then she entered a dream, a dream of a man who could channel, and was much different than the other dreams she had found before. There wasn’t a doubt that the man was an Asha’man, as well as there could’ve been no doubt that the man was a darkfriend.

---

"I can't imagine Logain as just being angry about such a thing, Halima." Leanna said in a cold voice, she wouldn't let her evade the subject. "What did he do?"

Halima made her voice as casual as she could, and shrugged her shoulders; "He forced me to share my bed with him." She said quietly, this time, Leanna came very close to ripping her scalp from the rest of her head.

"He did what?" Leanna shouted, "He wouldn't! He would have never done any such thing!"

She couldn't rise without losing her hair, and saidin would be of no use against Leanna, the Bond took very good care of that, at least. She could use saidin against that unbearable man, however. Not that it served her well so far. "It was nearly dark, I unweave all lights but one, I don't like the dark anymore. Not since I've this body, it's too much like death. Logain appeared in the door," She remembered not that she was speaking, her mouth moved on its own, her mind deep in the memory her mind recorded so perfectly. "For some reason, he always looked bigger when he's angry, and his fury burned inside me. I made my voice as innocence as I can, and chased him away, claiming that I've no idea what he was talking about. He refused to hear me. I was too... fuzzy to touch saidin, this body is hardly capable of handling drinking." She stopped to take a breath, but her mind remembered still. He ignored her protests and suddenly he was half a foot from her bed, clutching her by her shoulders and pulling her to her feet. Standing on the bed, clutching the blanket as hard as she could, she was nearly a hand taller than him, but she felt it was the other way around. "I have no intention to leave, Halima!" He growled, reminding her more and more of the bear she had once encountered in the Mountains of J'deral, three decades before the bore was drilled into the Dark One's prison. "For some reason, you were in my bed, saying sweet words and full of passion and desire. But when I got myself fully awake, I find a corpse in my bed, in my arms!"

"I couldn't stop giggling, I remember, it wasn't funny, but I laughed still." She continued, Leanna stopped brushing her hair, she only now noticed. "I was... lightheaded, a little. I told him that he deserved no better. And then I kissed him," She still didn't understood why she did it. "He told me I was drunk! I wasn't! And if I was, he had no right to say this to me, but he laughed when I told him this," Half the reason was that she whispered it to his ear; her kegs held her no more after that kiss.

Leanna rose from the bed and was facing her, she didn't notice that before, "And he did what?"

Halima glared at the woman; "He told me that I can judge nothing about it!"

"He wasn't right?" Leanna inquired, Halima hardly heard the other woman.

"I tried to stop him, but it was hard, making myself let go of him," She glared at Leanna, who nodded with agreement! "I ordered him to find himself a bed and let go of me. When he did, I simply fell down," There was no strength left in her limbs, "At least I got a decent bed, yours are harder than the common rock!" Leanna didn't answer, her mouth worked, but she understood none of what she was saying, wrapped entirely in the horrifying memories.

"Oh, I'm going to bed, Halima." Logain replied, his hands moved, he didn't bother to wear a shirt in his rage, he was nearly naked, she noticed, "But not mine, certainly not mine, I think that since you were so thoughtful about me, making sure I wouldn't sleep alone, all I could do is to return the favor! Let this be a lesson for you, Halima. I can be teased only that much!" Saidin had a tendency to disappear after one drunk too much, and she was no match to his strength in the body. She never felt so much anger from him. All she could do was to try fleeing when his weight landed on the bed, and his hands were sent to her. She had tears in her eyes, but she didn't allow herself to sob.

Shame shocked her of the memories, "I wish I could strangle him," Logain found a clever way to hurt her, indeed. "She remained awake for hours after he fell asleep finally, fighting down tears.

She closed her mouth before a sob would break through it, "I'll be with my cats." At least with them she was safe, protected. From Logain, from the Dark One’s minions, from the Lord Dragon, and if she was lucky, she would be safe from herself as well. "If Logain comes for me, tell him..." She fell silent for a moment and swallowed hard, "Tell him nothing, Leanna. I'll have to take care of him myself."

She left the other woman seating on the bed, the brush still in her head, staring at her back, her eyes as wide as they would go. Halima wiped wetness from her cheeks, where have all her self-control gone? After all, all Logain did that hurt her was snoring too strongly to let her sleep. Halima knew very well how beautiful she was. Was the reason she felt so hurt that Logain didn’t do anything to her? It seemed ridiculous, but she knew her own mind no longer. She stopped short with her hand on the handle to the hall were she kept her cats. She felt like a sledgehammer just hit her between the eyes. Now that she didn’t need to hide, she had a tendency to slip into the Old Tongue, as people called her language these days. And that language was open to many mistranslations. Running the conversation through her mind again, she realized what she has done. That was why Leanna was so upset. She began to turn, to explain what went wrong, when she decided not to. She had much more reasons to be angry with Logain than the little argument last night. She had a fair idea what Leanna might do, and the man deserved ten time that much, just for bonding her to him.

---

He had saidin in him, yet he felt not a drop of the joy he should have, humiliation was far stronger in him than the exultation of the power. Air to hold, Fire to heat. Jonan simply couldn't ignore the amusement that spread over Runea's face, over every last of those bloody Aes Sedai's faces!

"Why are we doing this?" Tolir whispered to him. "I can make the earth tremble and the skies burn but instead I'm... making stew!"

Jonan sighed; he still had hard time understanding why he let himself being ordered by Toviene and Runea. "It's meant for the warders, Tolir." Nofar said, "We can't allow the warders to starve."

"Don't overheat it!" The sharp voice made him want to grind his teeth. "You burn it and I'll make you eat it, all of it!" Jonan had enough of that!

"Pardon me, Nofar." He apologized, just before a flow of Air lifted Lemai into the air. He moved her just above the stew, a ball of water, some meat, and a variety of fruits and vegetables he couldn't begin to remember, there might be some grain in there, as far as he know. It was supported by nothing but a flow of Air. A pot made of saidin big enough to bath in. There were five more like that, with different... things in them, and still he wondered whatever it would suffice. "Now, Aes Sedai. Here is how it goes, I'm not about to let the warders starve, nor I'm about to let you use that tone of voice with me! Is it understood? Or would you like to have a bath in hot stew?" He increased the flow of Fire he was weaving into the pot just beneath her. The liquid began to bubble. But, for some reason, she looked not a bit slackened, she simply glared at him, mouth tight.

"Put her down, Jonan." Toviene ordered, "And stop making threats you would never be able to accomplish!"

He rose an eyebrow at her, "You doubt that I'm ready to give her the hottest bath she had ever had?"

"No," Toviene told him, at least Elayne disappeared after forcing them to make that stew! Smiling sweetly all the while! He would have to figure out how exactly she did that, later. "I'm sure you are more than willing to do this, but you would never do so. Nofar wouldn't let you."

"How did you found out about that?" Nofar asked softly, as he reached out for his warder with flows of Air. Lemai landed on the rocky floor with the sweet softness of a falling feather. As soon as her feet touched the floor she began to advance at his direction. Face like storm.

"No." Nofar voice stopped her as surely as any steel chain.

Lemai turned her head to her Asha'man, eyes resembling a snake's stare, cold and vile. "Why?"

With saidin, he could hear the blood rushing in his veins. Runea's heart beating, and the jokes those goats' mothers made about Asha'man and cooking. He didn’t come to the Black Tower because he wanted to be a bloody kitchen tool! And if they were needed food, what was wrong with some bread and meat and cheese, the Light alone know that they had enough of that!

"If you children finished playing..." Toviene stepped in, "I think they are all ready, Jonan. They smell just fine." Runea snorted hard to that. "Runea, you take Jonan and make sure that every woman in this mountain eat something, as little as it may be, the rest of us would come when everything would be done. Jonan can you carry all of this, or do you need help?" Rest, Jonan wondered, what rest it can be?

"I don’t think I can carry all of it," He lied, Nofar relaxed slightly, the way the man glared at him, if he would’ve said he could carry all of this, he would have been attacked. Tolir looked pathetically grateful. He had no intention of finding out what more Toviene had in mind, nor any intention of getting anywhere near either Toviene or Elayne again. "I would need Nofar and Tolir to help me. But I’ll send some men to help you." He already had the names in mind. If Toviene wanted to make his life hard, he would make hers twice as bitter. Lorid was the worst prankster Jonan had met, and Dhaiyar was almost as worst, both wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to pull up a frank versus an Aes Sedai.

He told Runea, and had the pleasure of seeing her face becoming slightly red with anger. He wasn't about to let his warder be that arrogant. May your soul burn to the Pit of Doom, Canler! He thought grimly ... the Dedicated who discovered the Bond was dead, killed by saidin, but if he wouldn't have, Jonan would have gladly strangled the bloody man! Yet, not even Canler fully understood the Bond. Now he had an Aes Sedai tied to him, with that warder of her that hated him as much as she he hated him. He also had a Sea Folk girl that was as eager to put a knife in him as Moran, Runea's warder, was.

Nofar and Tolir decided to leave their warders behind, a wise thing to do, since as soon as they were out of Toviene’s sight they let him take control on their weaves, and disappeared. Ignoring Runea’s frozen stare. But not before he made sure that they would send the right men to Toviene. He almost felt pity for her.

It was easy to lost your way in all those caves, Jonan suspected it would takes years to investigate this place. But he had his Bond to Delir to guide him to her, he could get lost. Not in the body at least. There were other ways to lose oneself. The stew that Toviene claimed that was ready drugged in front of him, nearly three paces deep and six wide.

Runea walked beside him, face sour. He needed to talk with her, but he was... worried of her reaction. He had to tell her about Delir, the Sea Folk girl who was his second warder. But he had seen how other warders reacted when they were told about their Asha'man taking another warder. That is, even while they declare their eternal hate to their Asha'man. Jealously was an emotion created by the Bond; unfortunately, it worked both sided. He began to wonder whatever he should leave her a note telling her about Delir; it would certainly be safer.

Runea saved him from deciding, "I understand that many of the Asha'man in Caemlyn had taken themselves warders." Her voice was cold, her face composed, unreadable.

"Indeed," He agreed softly, warily.

She looked at him with disgust, "Including those who had already have warders, isn't it?" This time he sufficed with a nod, touching saidin was like dancing, bare feet, over a sharp razor above a bottomless pit. Having a warder made it seem easily, with a warder you had to dance that razor edge with your eyes tied. And you never knew where you might trip and fall. Women!

"Are you asking if I have taken a second warder?" He asked her, if he was about to fall; he might as well jump rather than be pushed.

Runea felt a little shaken, she thought him a real fool, apparently. "Did you?" She asked finally.

"I did," It was hard, saying this. Why couldn't he overcome the temptation? Why so few of the Asha'man could resist the urge to Bond a woman, or women? Jonan smirked, he knew very well why, with saidin flowing in him, so pure and sweet and full of light, he could hardly think. As far as he could remember, he wanted everyone to feel the same way, and there was that little thing with kissing Delir, of course, or have you forgotten that already. He ignored that small voice in the depth of his mind, he didn't forget how it was, kissing Delir with saidin flowing in him. A feeling of almost being whole, the touch of skin against skin and softness and sweetness that only became stronger with saidin flowing in him. Delir herself had a part of it, of course. None of the stories he had heard about the Sea Folk were exaggerated, as far as he could judge.

He might have continued remembering that kiss, if not Runea's face, he thanked the Light he was wise enough to order her away from saidar, by her face, she felt nothing, according to the Bond, she wanted to kill him. "So, it seems that I've a sister." Runea said slowly, emotionlessly, "Who is she?"

Jonan hesitate for six heartbeats before he answered, Runea couldn't harm Delir, not by action or word or an order to her bloody warder, "Her name is Delir, you might have noticed her, she is the only Sea Folk woman I've seen in the..." He had no idea what name he should give the gathering of all those women, not any Runea would have accepted.

"Gaidar," Runea supplied the name, "If we are to be your warders, whatever we like it or not, we will have a fitting name."

She thought about names? When not much less than thousand women were all but raped. It would take long before there would be any trust between the Asha'man and their warders. Jonan knew that it would take a very long time before he could forgive himself for Bonding Delir. Runea he had reasons to Bond, she was sent by Elaida to destroy the Black Tower, all the reason he had to Bond Delir was the taste of her kiss! "Does it have a meaning, Gaidar?" Jonan asked, she was more than angry, but as long as she remained calm from the outside, she could be as angry as she like. Revenge, love and wine taste better, if you let them the time to grow old and strong, the saying removed every last shred of satisfaction from his mind. He had no right to feel satisfaction. Not after what he's done.

"It means, Sisters of Battle. Literally, it's a bit more complex and can be translated as 'To the battle, we are sisters to.'" She looked at him, raising her eyes to meet his, "It can be also mean 'Those women who are one with the battle.'" Something that might have been a smile appeared on her face, it was full of grim, dark, amusement, he wasn't sure who she was laughing at, whatever it was him or herself. "Long ago, the word was suggested to the Hall as a title for all Aes Sedai to carry, instead of Aes Sedai. It nearly passed in the Hall, the reds voted against it." The smile was gone; her eyes became stone, "Why?"

He blinked, "Why what?"

"Why you have taken this... Delir as a warder, you doesn't seem to like having me as a warder, why did you took a second one?" He thought it was jealously he sensed from her; he couldn't really be sure, it was distant and mute. She sounded as if the explanation was unneeded, was the Creator asleep, making women? As far as Jonan saw, they rarely talk sense. "For that matter, why all the Asha'man had taken warders?"

How could she control her face so? None of her anger was visible. "Have you ever kissed a man, holding saidar?" He asked, and then he continued without waiting for her answer, he really didn't want to hear her answer. He found himself daydreaming about Moran's death quite often lately. The only thing that kept the man alive was knowing that Runea would suffer his death, she suffered enough already, losing one warder, he couldn't cause her more pain. "I don't think I can sum it with words alone, Runea. I believe it's very close to what you felt when I bonded you." Why she shivered so? It was pleasant experience, or should have been. "With saidin tainted, I could suffice with that. But cleansed, what I felt simply wasn't enough. I wanted more, much more." He wouldn't lie to her, not unless he had to, and he wasn't sure how much he truly wanted to make Delir as happy as he was. He would not make such excuses for his actions. Logain was right in every word he said about them.

"Here comes trouble," Runea said suddenly, and he groaned at the sight of the Dedicated that strode in the corridor, in their direction, Leon Harimene, a big trouble.

"What under the light is this?" Leon inquired, his eyes wide as he looked at the stew being held in a cage of Air. Several minutes ago, Jonan joined all the separated bowls of stew together; they were easier to hold that way. The result was a floating ball that was over ten feet in diameter. The largest amount of stew Jonan had ever seen.

Jonan ignored the man's question, "How many?" He asked, putting a hand on Runea's shoulder, stopping her from doing anything dangerous. There was deep dislike between Leon and the Aes Sedai. The man wanted to slit every Aes Sedai's throat, and never mind that the Dragon ordered not to harm the Aes Sedai.

"How many what?" Leon said absently, he stare at the stew like he never seen such sight in his life. Neither did Jonan, for that matter. He only had to hope it would be enough. "How many have you bonded in Caemlyn?" As far as he knew there wasn't a single Asha'man who was capable of weaving the warder Bond that hadn’t took a warder if he hadn't one already. He could have understood it if few would have Bond a woman or two, but not when all of the Asha'man did it. Something was wrong here.

Leon's face became blank, "What make you think that I've joined the rest of you in this act of immature show of disgrace, which only proved that none of you has the self control of a dying goat, was that how Logain put it? No, we should say how the new M'Hael said it, from now on, isn't it?"

"I stand behind every last of his words," Runea said, "It seems that Toviene had taught the man few things." Both Jonan and Leon dismissed her comment without a thought; the men's eyes were focused on each other.

"How much?" Jonan asked again.

Leon snorted, "None, Dedicated Jonan." He answered coldly, "I control myself better than any of the guardians in rats hole!" He brushed rudely against him as he continued his pace, walking as arrogantly as the Lord Dragon himself, despite the corridor being wide enough for fifteen men to walk through it side by side comfortably.

"I don't like him," Runea muttered, "I didn't expected to see him here, he seems to worship Taim too much for not being with him."

"It might be for the best to tell Toviene about that," Jonan said, "She likes him no more than you do, or I. And she can talk with Logain safely."

Runea stared at him for a long time, and then she was walking forward again, this corridor looked a bit familiar, the corridor he and Devon ran through, to save Samira's life, not that Samira was eager to thank them about it. They were only couple of hundred feet from where Delir was, and the rest of the warders, of course. "Why are you afraid of Logain? You seemed to be so... close to each other."

He should have known he could hide little from her, he hoped that the little he had to hide from her would remain a secret. "It's not that I'm afraid of him. Not exactly," The last was added because of Runea's scornful snort. "But he was... quite displeased with us, because of... what we did in Caemlyn."

"Quite displeased? And what about the Aes Sedai taken warders, he wasn't quite upset about that, wasn't he?" Her voice could be used to cut through the solid rock that made the walls around them.

He began replying before he caught himself and closed him mouth, he wasn't ththat much of a fool. He had hard time, saying as close to nothing as he could as they walked through the seemingly endless corridors of the Dragonmount. And he exhaled in relief as they reached the hall were the Asha'man had gathered their Asha'man. Luckily, many of the warders remained in the hall. There were men in black scattered all through the room. Most of them were arguing with their warders. He saw Jemiril Selian, a Cairhienin boy of barely seventeen, looking up at a maiden that was ten years and a full head above him. Jonan glanced nervously at Runea, how old was she? He wondered, with that ageless face, he couldn't judge. And Samira already proven to him that Aes Sedai maintained that agelessness even while they old. Samira had to be sixty or seventy years old, but by her face she could be in any age between twenty and forty.

"It would take some time to arrange that every one would be fed." Runea muttered.

"A very long time," Jonan had to agree. "I think we'd better move them to another room, I think I saw a room with some tables and chairs in it not far from him."

Runea gave him an odd look, "Enough for thousand women?" Jonan nodded, he heard that the Lord Dragon was the one who created the Dragonmount; he thought it must be true. It took arrogance in huge amounts to create such a place. The smallest room he had seen so far was bigger than the inn's main room in his village. "If you say so," Runea said, doubt clear in her voice.

"The problem we're facing now is how to convince those women to come with us, half of them would starve themselves just because they are too stubborn." Jonan told his warder, she stare at him oddly and sniffed. p>

&q"You obviously know nothing about women, or pride, Jonan Amley." She said sharply, "Just continue carry that bowl and let me handle this." Jonan was more than glad to obey. Meddling with warders could be dangerous, extremely dangerous. The Bond put the warder's safety in far higher than the forcing of both Asha'man and warder to stay near each other. That was the reason the Bond was created, to make the warders stay near their Asha'man, although it was meant to be use on the Asha'man's wife only, so she couldn't run away from her husband. Be that as it may be, the Bond sometimes overdid it, or maybe it was the men that overprotected their warders, wives, although he preferred not think about it.

"So this is the Delir you were talking about," Runea said, she stopped talking only in order to take a breath, so it seemed, although it could be an age, as far as he was concerned, he felt nothing of the passing of time, trapped in his own mind. By his own actions, two warders he had, one that stood next to him, the other, tall and dark and nearly two years below him, was advancing in his direction. Delir's face had a determined look, the woman that talked with her turned to look after her, and he winced inwardly at the sight of that ageless face. The Aes Sedai's face >gleamed with joy.

Jonan had no idea what Samira had to tell to Delir, but he knew it couldn't be good, not one bit. And suddenly he had to mute a sudden urge to run.

---

The Dragon Reborn was the one who led the circle that created the caves inside the Dragonmount, men are very strong in Earth, which explain how it was done so easily with a circle that held no more than twenty, while the entire White Tower couldn't perform such a task.

The Dragonmount's caves are planned to hold more then five millions people, if need demand, and feed them all for two or three weeks. Arrogance beyond comprehension, for one man to do such a thing all by his own, all of Tear's supplies unneeded for the Tear not to starve were wiped out completely in order to fill the Dragonmount's emergency storehouses. Arrogance beyond any human comprehension, for the Dragon to create such a thing; yet, Rand al'Thor, as Lews Therin in his time, was known to accept no limits in his way to achieve his goal.

But, unlike Lews Therin, Rand al'Thor was ready to accept that despite his title and position and power, he is still a mere human being. His lack of ability to understand that, encourage by others who, seeing his success and ability, placed him as high as the Light himself, led Lews Therin to his doom.

Kinslayer and the Lord of the Morning
By Halima Albar
The Black Tower
The Forth Age

"Where is the man whom I arrived with? He is called Der Cal?" Ilyena inquired coolly of the black clad man who stood before her, eyeing her stonily.

"I don't know," he said. The truth was in his eyes, he did not know. But perhaps she had been hasty in dismissing the other man earlier, in her anger. Perhaps he could tell her where the other was.

"Where is Valir? Another one of you, a man in black," she asked.

"He went to eat something," The man said softly, he eyed for a moment. Not at all like a man stared at a woman, she felt like he was searching for weaknesses, ready to strike at any sudden move. "I will call him for you." He didn't completely turn his back to her as he retreated toward the door.

"Stop!" She said flatly, commandingly, all the dignity and power of an Aes Sedai of the Age of Legends in her voice and stance. The man stopped, his look turning wary and somewhat shocked. "Where is he?"

"I can take you to him," the man said, surprise at his own words plastered all over his face.

Ilyena inclined her head once, and said, "Then do so." The man in black began to walk, his directive stride at odds with his frequent incredulous glances, searching her for a sign of what could be making him lead her. She smiled inwardly; men remained the same, despite all the time passed. Of course, the man had never heard Lews Therin commanding, apparently, she learned much from her husband in that matter. Somehow, he seemed to have the ability to make people's body move without the interference of their minds.

"Do you... know the Lord Dragon?" the man asked hesitantly, several minutes later.

She glanced over at him, one golden eyebrow raised. "Once, I knew him very well indeed," she said, not quite sure why she was answering to this unknown man. "Married people do know each other quite well, you know."

"And now?" he asked softly, ignoring her sarcasm.

"And now I shall see," she said, more to herself than to him. Yes, that was what she would do, Ilyena resolved. Get to know Lews Therin once more, learn who and what he was in this life. And once that was done, it would remain to be seen what would happen thereafter.

Half hour later, and the man finally stopped at a large, cavernous room, swept an arm out in a grand gesture, and said, "He is here, my lady." The corridors he led her in seemed to be endless, and she saw not one window. The corridors were illuminated by means of small fireballs. They passed few people in the corridor, a boy in black with a woman at least twice his age. They were arguing softly, something about veils and weapons. The woman demanded them back. The boy refused. She saw a woman with red eyes, walking as if she had every intention to walk through the rock if she had half a chance. And three men, also in black, that looked back often and looked hunted.

"Aes Sedai," she corrected him, noting the grimace, knowing that he must have known, considering her demonstration of the night before, sensing that he did not enjoyed it in any case.

Nonetheless, he nodded curtly, said, "Aes Sedai," before turning around, and marching away. Ilyena entered the room, noting the milling people, groups chatting, eating, arguing and many other such activities. A recreational room of sorts, she surmised. There were people eating in the corner. One thing she noted was the glares, most of the women, despite wearing soft expressions, glared at the men they were talking with. And more than one set of eyes were accusing. Most women were tall, that she saw. And fair, they moved in the soft easiness of trained warrior. It was sad that in this age they had to fight as well as in the end of the Age of Legends, as her time was called now. It was never far from the surface, the most brutal instincts, as they have sadly learned in her age.

Her eyes glide over the crowd, she saw the curious and surprised glances on the faces of few, and the dismissive glances of those simply noting the arrival of one more being to the room. Finally, she saw Valir, chatting with another man who wore the same black and sword pin. A somewhat older man who wore only black and no pins approached the two, who answered whatever he said, but turned him away coolly after a moment, dismissal plain in their attitude. Thoughtfully, Ilyena narrowed her eyes. Perhaps they simple did not like the man, but she was beginning to suspect that those pins were rank's symbols of a sort.

Walking over toward them, she noticed the man that Valir was talking to tug him on his sleeve and gesture over to her. Valir's face registered a rather surprised look the moment before she arrived before him. "Hello," she nodded.

"Um, Hello, Ilyena Sedai," he nodded.

"I offer my apologies as to my behavior towards you earlier this day. I did not appreciate waking with a watcher over me, but you did not deserve the treatment, none the less." The other man looked a little unease, thought she couldn't say why. Beside the Sword pin Valir was wearing, the man also had another pin; shaped as a dragon, she noted that one before. It seemed to be that Lews Therin's sense of humor become stranger than it was in the Age of Legends.

"Thank you," The man said, surprise clear in regards to her apology. Inwardly, she smiled. She was tilting him off balance, to be sure.

"You're welcome. I am attempting to find my bearings in this place," she smiled, deciding that she would elicit the desired information from this man, instead of haring all over the place looking for Cal. "Could you tell me where we are?"

"You don't know?" he asked, surprised.

"No, I don't. I arrived here by a method which does not name map names."

But didn’t you have to know where you were going?" The other man asked; eyes sparked with interest.

"I was heading for a person, not a location." She explained.

"There's such a weave. At least not that I know of, I don't think it's even possible. It would require you to work with the threads of the pattern directly, to start with."

"Yes. Do not think of learning it," she said, "It is extremely dangerous, and was discovered by a female, never to be adapted to saidin. And for very good reasons, it was banned by the Hall," She said, looking meaningfully at him, so as to disabuse any notion he may have of trying it himself, even should he be aware of the greater machinations of the weave.

"The Hall of Servants exist no more," The man shrugged, unaware of the affect his words had on her, "And the only favor any Asha'man will do to the White Tower's hall is destroy the place. It sound ..."

"Deadly in potential," she said curtly.

It seems to have no affect on him, "So does saidin, Aes Sedai." He told her, "And still we use it. Beside, there is always more fun when you dance on the razor edge rather than on safe ground." How did Lews Therin do it, making men and women so loyal to him that they were ready to die for him without hesitation?

She did her best to ignore the man who stare at her with disturbing set of eyes, as if he was trying to read her mind. She had the feeling he was seeing through her skull. "Where are we?"

"Inside the Dragonmount."Surprise washed over her, shock and vague horror. Dragonmount, she had read of it, of the place that Lews Therin had died and was suppose to be born at. The place he had made of it his fortress. Vaguely morbid, she mused, but ironic in a manner he could appreciate as well as dislike. No doubt the real reason for his choice had been necessity. For what, she did not know, but duty and necessities were very often, all too often, his driving characteristics.

"Ilyena Sedai?" Valir asked warily, her expression was of stun shocked, she calmed it as soon as she noticed it.

"Yes," she said, "Thank you for telling me that," she paused, deliberating with herself, "Perhaps you could be my guide." Could Lews Therin attempting a joke? His sense of humor could be... peculiar at times.

"Um," he said, "Well, I have duties that...."

"Oh no, you don't," the other man suddenly broke in, eyes shining, "Not these days. Nothing to do yet; nor will you've, I will take care of that. You’ll have plenty of time to show the Aes Sedai around." Ilyena gave him an exasperated, knowing look, and the man grinned, giving her a mock toast with the glass he held. His grin wiped out suddenly, and his head titled suddenly, as if listening, "She is coming," He said suddenly, "I can't allow myself to be caught in..." He glanced at her and cleared his throat, "Valir, don't let her out of your sight! Not for you life!" He commanded, "My... warder is not quite pleased with her. She might decide to take actions, and I've no wish to explain to the Lord Dragon why she died, again." Did he think she was helpless? She was about to say something, but he moved, almost ran, away before she could say anything.

"Well," Valir hesitated for a moment. "I'd have to ask... Well, maybe I wouldn't. I mean. Well, okay," The last was said to the man's back. She saw the man that gave orders so curtly stopping at the door, his back hided who he was talking to, but as they turned to go, she saw a small woman, with blond silvery hair walking near him away from the room. Talking urgently, although they were too far to hear a word. Just now it accrued to her that the man intentionally positioned himself to hide the woman from her eyes, and vise versa.

"His...warder?" Ilyena asked, she knew women that were so jealous they immediately suspected any woman their man was talking to, but only talking rarely led to murder attempts, as the man strongly suggested.

"Wife," Valir said slowly, his eyes focused on the pair that stepped out of the room. "Not of his choice, but wife still."

"Not of his own choice?" Ilyena wondered.

"The Lord Dragon forced it on him, so to speak, and nearly killed the three of them half the way through." Valir said absently, "She is very dangerous, and she isn't the only one."

"Lews Therin? Forced them to marry?" That sound extremely... unlikely, but what wasn't, this days. "What would he do such things?"

"Because if he wouldn't, he would have to stay marry to her, and his other wives wouldn't like it one bit." Valir clump his mouth suddenly, looking down at her.

"This is... madness." Ilyena muttered; if he wouldn't have force that tall man and the woman with silver hair to marry Lews Therin had to stay marry to that silver hair woman? And what other wives Lews Therin had. In plural, not singular, to add to the confusion, as if there wasn’t enough on her mind already.

"I agree," Valir said, "But on the other hand, little make sense near the Dragon Reborn. You don't make sense. Your very existence, I mean, not what you're doing."

She laughed sourly to that, "I understand." she said quietly, "Maybe, you could explain it all to me." She took him arm and led him away, hearing the chuckles of the other black clad man following them.

"Caught yourself a pretty one, boy." A man with brown hair and eyes, said as they walked to the exit. She frowned at him. And the smile faded. Valir looked both amused and angry all the while.

"She isn't mine, and she is taken, clear those thought from your head, Dorikel!" He said loudly to the man, turning his head back to him, as she didn't let go of him or stop walking.

They strode out into the hall and walked away from the gathering chamber for several minutes, seeing no others rooms during that period of time. As they approached the hall's end, though, Valir seemed on the verge of speaking. Ilyena, though her gaze remained firmly fixed forward, inwardly braced for whatever he would say.

A young girl in brown and gray breach and coat came running down the corridor flashed past them, brushing Valir and nearly whipping the black clad man's head around. The woman did not pause, nor even looked at him, and Valir scowled before turning back to the Aes Sedai. "Warders!" He muttered disgustfully. "What do you want to see first?" he asked as though it had not happened. "I’ll explain everything, but you said you also want to see this place."

"Give me the grand tour," she said with a small smile at the term, she wanted to scream inside. There was so much she didn't know.

The man sighed and said, "That may take a while. A long while." She had no idea whatever he meant the story or the tour.

"So I thought. Are you aware of where Lews Therin is?" she asked abruptly.

Valir blinked at the subject change and shifted his facial features uncomfortably. "No, he disappeared after your... arrival, he return here few hours ago, and then he was gone again." He answered curtly, and offered a grimace, indicating that it was not a topic he wanted to peruse.

Ilyena gave him an unreadable look and said, "And so he is sulking. No doubt brooding." The man looked somewhat shocked and annoyed at once, and Ilyena smiled. She could not help it. She knew well the habits of the man she's once called husband, and had no doubt that he was indeed sulking, but it did not seem that this young man could understand the concept of the Dragon sulking. Few ever did, he gave the impression that nothing can break through that shield of arrogance. Much did, despite the false hints. She gave another brief smile and said, "Be happy that you are here, rather than there, wherever there is. He's quite unbearable in such moods. Now, what of that tour? And the story?" The man flashed her another look before they reached the next chamber, which the man turned into, and began to point out features. His movementswere sure, his words slow and hesitated.

---

"Blood and Ashes," Rand cursed, watching Dyelin enterring the Grand Hall in the Lion Palace of Andor. Elayne asked him — ordered him, actually — to wait for her here. And now he had Dyelin to deal with. As if his meeting with Saedera wasn’t bad enough. And never mind that he deserved every bit of the maiden’s anger. He wasn’t ready to another confrontation, so soon. But still he turned and watched the noblewoman as she came closer to him.

"Do you’ve anything new to tell me about my daughter, My Lord Dragon, did you find anything?" The last shreds of hope he began to feel were wiped completely, and he hid a sigh. Dyelin did want to talk about her daughter, just as Saedera wanted to talk about the missing maidens. Elayne had told him about Dyelin’s daughter, and he made some quick checks, the truth was as Elayne suspected. Strangely enough, she wasn’t angry with him, despite it all being his fault.

"She was taken warder, Dyelin." He answered, trying to make his voice as soft as he could. "She and a friend of her, Lyandra. I’m sorry." No words could truly convey how much sorry he was.

By the stricken look on the golden hair woman, he didn’t manage to soften the shock. "I see," Dyelin smoothed her face, even thought it was clear how much it cost her emotionally. "Is there something, anything, that can be done."

Rand closed his eyes for a moment, fighting a sudden wave of fury. "No, I do not believe so." He replied slowly. By the Light, he would make the Asha’man pay! "I’ll make sure that Darian will bring her and Lyandra to Caemlyn, but I fear that it will not be possible for her to stay for long." There were several different weaves that could create a warder bond. The changes in the weave itself were minor, but the result was very often major. And the weave that Darian used in order to bond both Amelin and Lyandra would cause great discomfort for the three of them, if they were too far from each other, for too long. Blood and Ashes, it seemed that almost every Asha’man had his own version of the bond.

"Who is Darian?" Dyelin inquired, but her eyes were far off, and her voice almost lifeless.

"The dedicated that had bonded your daughter," He replied, and watched fire replace the lifeless look in Dyelin’s eyes. "Dyelin," He said softly, he truly felt sorry for her, for her daughter. And he was twice as angry with the Asha’man as she was. They were his, and they failed him. "Harming Darian would harm Amelin and Lyandra as well."

"I see," the light in her eyes died. "I thank you, my Lord Dragon." She said, and turned to leave.

He grabbed her shoulder and stopped her, "You’ve nothing to thank me about," He told her, "If there would be anything that I could do to make up for what was done to Amelin, Dyelin, I would. You’ve my word on that."

Dyelin nodded, and left, leaving him alone in the Grand Hall. Elayne told him to wait her here; she was already late. He looked up, at the painted glass above his head, the pictures of the ancient queens of Andor. He didn’t believe he could feel worse than he did when he left after his... conversation with the maiden who led the Far Dareis Mai in Caemlyn. But that short conversation with Dyelin had worsened his temper. He turned and walked out of the Grand Hall. He followed the bond to Elayne, talking the shortest route to her. He would wait her no longer.

He just reached at the entrance to her rooms, his rooms, once, when she came out. She changed her cloths; she didn’t wear the red and white dress that was embroidered with the Lion of Andor; the dress that belong solely to the queen of Andor. "Rand," She said, titling her head to look him eye to eye. Blue eyes stared at him warily. "You are going to the Dragonmount now, don’t you?"

"Yes," He replied softly, forcing himself to relax. It wasn’t as hard as he expected it to be. Elayne had a soothing affect on him. "I’m not done with the Asha’man yet."

Elayne blinked, then she moved forward and hugged him. "It’s not your fault, Rand." Elayne said, "There was nothing you could do to avoid it."

Rand said nothing; it was useless to argue with her. "Are you coming with me?" He asked instead. Stifling a sigh of regret when she moved away, he watched her eyes clouded for a single moment.

"I can’t keep disappearing, Rand." She told him seriously, "But I need to speak with Amelin and Lyandra, I promised Dyelin I’ll." Rand opened his mouth to tell her that he already told Dyelin that her friends would visit Andor soon, but closed it again as he seized saidin. Savoring all the glory, all the sweetness, and all the harsh, unwilling power. He opened a gateway, watching it turn and twist. He didn’t use the same kind of bond as Darian did. But still he didn’t like to have Elayne away from him. He chose to travel into his room in Dragonmount, but stopped after he took three steps away from the gateway. Unconsciously he moved to shield Elayne from whoever it was in his room. He felt no one touching saidin, nor the itching in his arms that warned him from a woman holding to the One Power. "Relax," the short woman said; rising from the chair she was seating on, she carefully marked a book and laid it on the chair. "I’m here to talk to you, not to kill you." With saidin in him, Rand could easily read the title of the book. It was Reason and Unreason by Herid Fel, one of the books Min especially cherished. Elayne moved forward from behind him, glaring at the silver hair woman that stood regally in front of him.

"What do you want, Mierin?" Elayne asked coldly. And Rand winced at the sharp tone. She still hasn’t forgotten him for the short time Mierin was bonded to him.

There was neither mockery nor anger in Mierin’s eyes; it made Rand feel a little safer. The bond to Narishma might have not stopped Mierin from wishing for power, but at least she didn’t seem to be interested in him anymore. "I found something that I think you might be interested in." Mierin said, she seemed to be serious. Rand groaned inwardly, he already knew it wasn’t going to be good. "I know what happened in to the Asha’man in Caemlyn."

---

It was three hours later when, back in the cantina room, as Valir named the room where she found him in, Ilyena smiled hazily and stretched, catlike, as she took a sip of her hot, brandy spiced cider. There were plenty of drinks, and they were quite good, unlike the food, very much unlike the food. After a partial tour of Dragonmount, relaxation had sounded nice, especially considering that she hadn't had any for a great deal of time. Even more considering the bits and pieces of the story Valir had given her. He claimed he knew as much as any else, but that was little, and the more she knew, the more confusing it was. Especially when he tried to hide several parts of the story, the most interesting parts, she suspected. She meant to drug them out of him, it was almost a talent with her, making people tell her their secrets, but that would come later, first she had to think of what he had told her. Thinking in greater depth about it, Ilyena surmised that she hadn't truly enjoyed herself in this age, and very little in those horrible last years in the one before.

Truth to be told, she had been sleeping in stasis for most of this age, but before that, it had been years since she had truly relaxed. The Aes Sedai figured she deserved a few moments of pure, unadulterated laziness, if only to forget her troubles, just now. Anything could be pushed back, now, she needed her mind clear now, and if half what Valir was telling her was true; she would skin Lews Therin happily. And the women he had now as well. So far, Valir was careful to name no names. And he still didn't tell her all of it. It was impressive still; it took Lews Therin less than a year and a half to reach his current position from the moment he declared himself.

"Explain the Asha'man to me," she said to her guide.

"Well," Valir pursed his lips, apparently searching for a way to frame his explanation. "You've heard about the taint," He stop for a moment and then continued, "Well, seven months ago, the Lord Dragon decided that he needed soldiers that could be used against the Dreadlords and shadowspawn that the Dark One would send against the world in the battles, and in Tarmon Gai’don itself. He recruited a former False Dragon known as Mazrim Taim to gather men with the potential to channel." He stopped to take a breath and avoided looking at her, "Not men with the spark, since the Red ajah already gentled most of them, not that there were many to begin with. Only four we know that appeared in the last three years, and two of

them declared themselves the Dragon Reborn before went to the Lord Dragon's side. And the Lord Dragon himself, of course, and then there is Narishma," She rose an eyebrow and he began explaining hastily. "The man I was talking with, the one with the bells in the hair, he's Narishma. He's supposed to be quite strong in the power, or so the M'Hael, the former one, figured, since he has the spark." Men that had the spark do tend to be strong, but there were levels to strength, and nothing promised that being born with the spark will mean strength in the power also, not to mention that there was simply no way men could measure out other men's strength. But she kept herself silent, she would explain it all further, but at the meantime, she had listened to his wards with every bit of concentration she had. "Eventually, the Lord Dragon named us the Asha'man, The Justice's Guardians or maybe The Defenders of Justice or something of the like." It was closer to The Defenders of what is Right, if she understood this language well enough. "A bare collar means you're a solider, the lowest rank, rather akin to a novice in the White Tower. A sword pin means you're a Dedicated, like an Accepted in the White Tower." A proud smile spread on his face saying that, and his hand touched the pin on his neck for a moment, then he became aware of her and snapped his hand down and flushed deeply. "A sword and a dragon pin mean you're a full Asha'man." He said quickly, "Which is of course, the male equivalent to an Aes Sedai, though we swear no Oaths." He stopped to take a deep breath, but Ilyena simply stared at him, urging him to say more, "Most of us don't like Aes Sedai," He smiled at that, and his eyes focused on someone behind her, "Some of us, on the other hand," He murmured to himself in obvious self pleasure, "like Aes Sedai far too much to be healthy." She turned her back to see what he was looking at, a black hair man, shorter than the average, but with a sense of overbearing.

"What is so special in him?" She wondered.

"He had taken Aes Sedai as a warder," Valir replied, "And with us, unlike the Aes Sedai, a Warder is very much equivalent to a spouse." He looked shocked at the idea he had just voiced, "Aes Sedai as warder, or as a wife." He muttered loudly, and shuddered. "Marrying the Dark One would be easier."

"Thank you," Ilyena said acidly, he gave a start and flushed again. She eyed him thoughtfully. The whole thing was very neat, very structured, and very purposeful. The man had not even denied it. The Asha'man were weapons. Perhaps they'd survive after the Last Battle, and perhaps not, but that was their purpose. It was very much Lews Therin's style, of later years; everything with a purpose, often grim.

"He does not lead you," Ilyena said.

Valir did not need to be told whom she was referring to. He shook his head and said, "Mazrim Taim was our M'Hael before. Our Leader. But he had gone," There was fierce light in Valir's eyes, and suddenly Ilyena remembered another man, short and fair hair and eyes, with eyes that were empty most often. Dejar Telil Mordy, the man who led the Hundred Companions, second to Lews Therin alone. She blinked, the purpose of the Asha'man becoming extremely clear to her. She would skin Lews Therin, indeed. Valir continued, unaware, of course, to the shock in her, "with a good many others. We have a new leader now, Logain Albar." The way he said the name made her wonder whatever he expected her to recognize it. " Some hoped that he would be the one to lead us. Others were terrified of the idea. He's... well, if you know him, then you know what I'm talking about."

"And what of yourself?" Ilyena asked emotionlessly.

"I roll with the punches," he said, grinning, and took a drink.

"I meant, what do you do?" Ilyena asked.

"I'm a Dedicated," he answered.

"Yes, but what do you do?" Ilyena asked again.

"Do?" He inquired, as if he never heard the word.

"Yes, as in what are your career aspirations? What do you do?" Heads have been turned to them, but she couldn't care less.

"I want to be an Asha'man." He had the goal to look confuse.

"You mean to tell me that you don't have a practical career, that none of you apply your skills in any manner besides epic battles against the shadow?" Ilyena said with incredulous sarcasm. Valir blinked, seemingly taken aback. "What do the Aes Sedai do?"

"They're Aes Sedai," the man said, eyeing her in much the same incredulous manner as she was eyeing him. "They don’t have to do anything. They are what they are."

"Oh, Light," she muttered, "Light, this Age is barbaric. You don't even apply yourself in any practical manner. You could be bettering the world, governing, teaching, inventing, and so many other things, and all you do is sit in your Towers and play at symbolism and rank! Light!" Fury coursed through the woman, her eyes burned, and her lips curled up into a snarl. "Fools!"

"Really?" He asked, his voice frosty suddenly, "How old are you, Ilyena Sunhair? How much it took you to reach your strength? How much before you finished whatever school it was where you studied the One Power?" He sounded angry, as if falsely accused. "Blood and Ashes, answer me!"

"I will not have this from you," She told him with serene face, "But, to answer your questions, It took me five years to reach my final strength, and I studied in the Academy for twenty years."

"You forgot mentioning how old are you," He said idly, but his eyes burned. "Ilyena," He Leaned closer to her, "I'm less than twenty, I've been in the Black Tower for two months, and I gaining my strength rapidly, as any other student in the Black Tower, strength gained too fast it to be safe. Until five days ago, I didn't know whatever I would go mad the next instance! You talk about career? What career a madman can have? What could we do that isn't deadly? What could we do to bring some good to the world save die for it?" He raised his wine cap and emptied it in one long sip, nearly quickening with rage. "Tell me, Ilyena Aes Sedai, what can we do that we haven't done. It took you five years to reach your strength, I know people who had done it in a month, less! Youhad a choice! You dare blaming us for not having the chances you'd. You dare blaming us for not planning our future when we didn't know whatever we will have one!" Anger melt away from him suddenly, "As for the Aes Sedai, you can blame them for as long as you would like. It had always been that way, but feel free to try change them, it's easier to lift a mountain. And words pass right through them, they never bother listen to you."

"Always been that way," she hissed, anger washing her, his explanation only made it worse. She could accept the Asha'man's attitude, but not the one of her sisters. "It has not always been that way! Once, we were teacher and inventors, philosophers and businessmen, athletes and actors, authors and politicians and so many other things! We touched the world! You... you turn your noses up to it, and sneer. Oh, we had our share of snobbishness, the Hall did, but it was nothing ... nothing! ... Compared to this Age, this barbarism! You disgust me! All of you," she hissed, before jumping to her feet and stalking away, leaving the Dedicated behind her.

The walls sped past her in a blur as she stalked forward, rage red across her vision.

Damn him.

Damn him for his arrogance, for thinking he could save a world which was already damned.

Horror clouded her vision, even as rage erupted in Ilyena's mind, and she Leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily, as though she had just undergone great exertion.

A faint tap up her shoulder made her jump, teeth slightly bare as she spun from the wall, only to face a finely formed Cairhien man's face, much shorter than she was. "Your killer and your love is a true cold-blooded bastard, Ilyena Sedai," Der Cal said, eyeing her warily. Ilyena blinked and made to retort sharply, but simply could not force the words past her lips. The man was right, though perhaps not for the reasons that Cal believed. "I've been exploring the mountain. Quite a fortress; I doubt anything could get inside."

"Nothing but the One Power," Ilyena said, "And it would take a great deal indeed of that."

"Yes," he said, "And there's a great deal of its wielders here. I'm not comfortable around women who can channel, never mind men."

"They say that saidin has been cleansed of its taint," she said. "Lews Therin has reversed his deed, there. I don't believe that he has any interest in reversing any deeds," she continued harshly. "He says to me that he would kill me again. But what of what he had done to our children? What of our children!" her voice rose into a shriek. "Do you know who I am?" she yelled at Der Cal. Saidar filled her with sweat warmth, feeding on her anger, feeding her anger, an endless chain. "I was his wife. He loved me. And he killed me. And the Dark One resurrected me, and kept me in stasis for an Age, to use me against him. But I doubt that that dark entity could use me very much, in truth. He doesn't love me anymore," she didn't stop to think that she was yelling at this man, pouring her heart of to a man she barely knew. All she could think of was her husband, the love she had lost, and those petty, jealous stares that had come from those women in that room where she had gazed upon Lews Therin for the first time in thirty four hundred years. He was changed, true, but he was still Lews Therin! It was in his eyes, in his voice, in everything. But he didn't love her! And they dared to glare at her spitefully, when it was her life, her death, and her love! How could they? Damn them all! Damn everyone!

"I hate this!" she screamed suddenly, at the top of her lungs, the echoes running down the halls, and Der Cal's face swimming in front of her eyes, shock plastered on his face. She understood that she was holding him above the ground, lifting him so she could stare at him eye-to-eye. Her flows tightened on his flesh. She couldn't care less. "Hate this!" screams, louder than ever before she could recall her voice being.

"I hate you all! Damn you, damn you, damn you! Lews Therin!" her voice trailed off into wretched little snarls, and suddenly, she recognized Cal's eyes, flickering behind her, and realized that someone else was there. Turning, she saw the Dedicated, Valir. She released Cal, and the man stumbled on the floor, fear making his face older than he was. With a strange detachment, she put along, slender fingers up to her face, and felt the smeared tears, knew she must look like a monster. Her clothes were twisted around her, again, and her felt absolutely miserable.

"What do you want?" she asked, not noticing the tears still running silently, calmly, down her face, not seeing the dangerous sparkle in her blue eyes, not feeling it, seeing only the man's face, seeing only his carefully blanked expression.

"I don't know what I want," he said. "You certainly haven't endeared yourself to me, or anyone else in here. I don't know why I'm here, but I have my orders. You might want to clean up," There was a tiny smile on his lips, "but just a little bit. You're not in your best shape right now."

"Tell me about it," she said, leaning back on the wall. A low chuckle escaped her, and then, she could not stop laughing, even as she stood up, and stumbled down the corridor. Leaving Cal on the floor, gasping pitifully for air.

Valir scowled after the woman, hearing her trailing, hysterical laughter run off behind her, hitting him full force. Did she not know caution? Did she not understand the precarious position she was in, just for being who she was, and here? Valir himself could hardly believe that the woman was who she said she was, but the evidence of the Lord Dragon's reaction was clear, and well explained, as Valir had overheard in her ranting, it did seem plausible.

He wondered why he'd agreed to play a tour guide for her. To be sure, Narishma urging him to do so had eased to the process, because Valir knew that the man didn't want to be seen in the same room as the woman, and so had been quite eager to see her leave. Narishma's wife would likely skin him alive, if she knew he had spoken a word to Ilyena, from what Valir had seen. Narishma was a full Asha’man, while he was merely a Dedicated. But that wasn’t all of it, he thought.

Be the reason as it might be, he had gone off with her, and she had been pleasant enough for several hours afterwards. The discussion over what Aes Sedai and Asha'man did, though, had truly upset her. The Age of Legends had been different, everyone knew that, but the Dedicated had the feeling that no one quite knew just how different it had been, save for those that remembered it.

Valir found it quite difficult to wrap his brain around that concept, that some of the people in the same mountain he stood in were almost four thousand years old. It was too incomprehensible. She needed a friend, he sensed, but even now, he wasn't sure that he was the one to be it. She was one of the elements, shunned by others, and seemed more than half-mad at times, truth to tell, though Valir knew that she was not, from the manner in which she had acted the last several hours. Gentle at times, but laughing in amusement at others, blue eyes sparkling wonderfully. It was rare that she took on the bossy, imperious manner of an Aes Sedai, though when she did, he mused, she was quite good at it.

The Cairhien, Der Cal, was rose from the floor and looked as if he wished he could follow the Aes Sedai, but didn't quite dare, no wonder, if he wouldn't have arrive, she might have killed the man. A moment more passed, though, and Valir scowled. I hate having a conscience, he thought irritably.

"I'll go her after here," he said aloud to Cal. He would make sure that there would be something found for the man to do, something nasty, to make him pay for what he was doing.

The man sighed and said, "Thanks."

"Indeed," the Dedicated muttered sourly, irritated the man thought he was doing it for him, before running off after an Aes Sedai that was older than this mountain.

---

"Oh," Elayne watched the silvery hair woman with hard eyes, Rand leaned on the wall and watched with eyes that revealed nothing and composed face. "They rampaged throughout my capital, bonded women without the women’s consent. Ravaged my throne room, terrorized the city. And you think there you’ve some kind of an answer that would excuse permit them to avoid paying for what they did?"

"Money?" Mierin blinked, "They are men, Elayne. Every last one of them could hand you your weight in gold. Paying wouldn’t mean anything to them, with saidin they can find in an hour more gold than most people see in a lifetime."

"That wasn’t what I mean," Elayne replied coldly.

"Ignore her, Elayne." Rand said in a calm tone. "This is what she consider as a joke." Then his eyes returned to the other woman. "What have you discovered, and how did you discovered this?"

"Your Asha’man do not shield their dreams," Mierin shrugged, "the hardest thing to do was to find ones that weren’t as mad as rabid dogs."

"None of the Asha’man is mad." Rand said sharply, "Those who went mad had been... dealt with." Nothing showed on his face, but Elayne could feel the flash of anger and remorse he felt, Min had told her about the Morr, in what seemed like a long time ago, but was barely a week ago.

"All I is that there are at least several thousands insane men that can channel somewhere in the world. Their dreams are worse than nightmares." For a moment, a frown crossed the small woman’s face. As if she had just tasted something foul. "But this isn’t what is important now, I understand that you’ve given Mazrim Taim and those Asha’man who had gone missing a week before you’ll set free the hunters. I suggest you will not wait, Taim had betrayed you."

"You found his dreams?" Rand’s voice was calm, the calmness of a deserted grave.

"His? No, I haven’t. But I’ve found the dreams of one of those who follow him. They revealed enough." Mierin replied. "Taim had converted to the Dark One more over one hundred Asha’man, and —" Elayne muttered silent oaths, but it was the look in Rand’s eyes that silenced Mierin.

Rand didn’t curse; Elayne thought she would’ve liked him to show some of his anger. "Carry on," He ordered, his voice cracking with fury. In the back of her head, Elayne felt the inferno of rage and ire that he radiated. Mierin felt it too, and the light of saidar enveloped her. Elayne studied the woman closely; she was ready to weave a shield. Elayne thought it was a shield, at least. She held on to the source herself, not that there was much she could do against a woman as strong as Mierin. The silver haired woman was stronger than Nynaeve. Stronger than any woman Elayne have met. According to Rand, Mierin and Ilyena were the strongest woman that could channel in an age where strength was commonplace. But Elayne never had the chance to judge Ilyena’s strength.

"That is about it," The woman said. "He was sent to you when you declared you amnesty, to train Dreadlords for the Dark One, and to make sure that those who aren’t his would be of no use for you. After all, you probably would’ve found a way to tutor those men. Apparently Moridin decided that it’s worth the risk of some of those men remaining loyal to you."

"I see," Rand eyes burned with barely control fury, "Sanctuary from the taint, that was what promised to them, wasn’t it? And the warders, you said that you know why they were bonded."

Mierin smoothed her dress nervously, she was no longer merely holding the shield, she held it, and poured every drop of the power she could master into it. Rand rubbed his arms for a moment, but the motion seemed more absent minded than indented. He could feel woman channeling, although all he knew was whatever she was holding on to the True Power or not. He seemed lost in fury, or, Elayne thought, not exactly lost, his eyes were intent on Mierin’s face. And she was willing to wager on Andor that he held on to saidin, to the extent of his ability, no doubt.

"I believe that the Asha’man were compelled," Mierin answered, she tied off the shield she wove and began to weave another weave. The light that shined from the woman brought tears to Elayne’s eyes. She didn’t think that she could copy the woman’s weaving, Nynaeve could hold that much of the One Power, and maybe when she would reach her full potential she would, too. But not now.

"How?" Rand barked, something flickered around Mierin, beside the shield, something that would be visible only to the eyes of woman that could channel. The weave carried some similarities to gateway, but was also quite different. "You think that Taim would’ve compelled the Asha’man to bond women. They can still be of use." Elayne directed a started look at Rand, was that how he thought of the Asha’man. Sometimes, she was willing to admit, it was better to think about people as tools in a game, that way you didn’t suffer so much when you had to make decisions. But you couldn’t think that way all the time, that kind of think was a sure way for disaster.

"No, I do not think that that was what he meant," Mierin concurred, "But, as you should know, intents aren’t always equal results."

Rand’s hands rose, his face were blank, his eyes ice. Something blue and green and white jagged its way from Rand’s hands to Mierin’s shield. Elayne put a hand on Rand’s shoulder, "This is not the way."

"With Lews Therin, it usually is." Mierin replied, "Do you want to kill me, Lews Therin? Or do you want to kill the truth?"

"The truth died with the Age of Legends," Rand replied, his voice far off, "What does it matter, today?"

Mierin brush a strand of pale hair from her face and frowned at the tall man, "It matters enough for you to try to kill me."

"Enough!" Elayne commanded, fist clenched, she felt like hitting them, both of them. "You said they were compelled, how, and to what end?" Rand opened his mouth, intending to speak, shout, actually, if she read his emotions correctly. Elayne wove air hastily, Rand’s eyes glared at her, his mouth was gagged. Mierin’s face showed open amusement. Elayne glared at Rand, if he would so much as dare to shield her, or cut her weave, she will make him wish he had never born. Luckily for him, he took no action.

"There are several types of compulsation," Mierin said, her eyes lighted with glee. "But all types of compulation are breakable, facing strong enough will. >From what I’ve seen, will is one thing that the Asha’man lack." Something crossed the woman’s face, wiping the glee away. With saidar flowing in her so strongly the pleasure bordered pain, Elayne could just barely hear the woman who once was the strongest of all the female Forsakens mutter something about men. "But if you compel the most stubborn man or woman to do something they want to do, they will never succeed in breaking the compulsation. That type of compulsation is often used to force someone to do something they want to do, but will not usually do, for various of reasons."

"And that was what Taim did?" Elayne asked, she knew more of Compulsation than most Aes Sedai, but she was still ignorant, compared to the knowledge Mierin possessed. For the first time, Elayne considered letting the woman teach her. Moghedien claimed that she knew nothing about ter’angreal, but if Mierin did.... "Forced them to bond women? Why?"

"No, as far as I managed to learn, the cleansing of saidin triggered the suggestions Taim had planted in the Asha’man minds. They were encouraged to channel, to use saidin to the limit, or beyond it."

Elayne shivered, it wasn’t something she could control, people that drew more than they could handle burnt themselves out. Elayne didn’t even want to think about this. The flow of air that gagged Rand’s mouth snapped suddenly, and she jumped, it felt like a whiplash. "How the bond has anything to do with this?" Rand demanded, "And if what you’re saying is indeed true, " By his tone, he very much doubted it, "then they should have all burnt themselves out."

"Oh," Mierin shrugged, "some of them have, surely. But they were encouraged to channel, and channel massive amount of the One Power. At one point or another the Maidens began kissing them, what do you expect them to do; if they loose all their self-control, they never thought, they reacted! I believe the weave Taim used created similar affect as drinking too much, they loose the restrains they should have."

Rand took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "Part of what the bond does to the bond holder has to do with self control," something that might have been a smile appeared on his lips. In never reached the eyes and vanished in heartbeats. "But why would they take more than one? The first should have taken care of the compulsation."

"Maybe they didn’t sober up so quickly," Elayne suggested.

Both Rand and Mierin glanced at her, Rand in approval, Mierin as if she forgot she was in the room. "Maybe," Rand muttered to her, and then turned his eyes to Mierin, "Where is Taim?’

Mierin looked at him oddly, "You know it doesn’t work like this, Lews Therin, I never found Taim’s dreams, all I know about him are what the Asha’man I’ve spied on knew. And it wasn’t easy, casting their mind the way I wanted."

"You always claimed tel’aran’rhiod as your kingdom," Rand shrugged, "I want Taim dead, Mierin Eronaile. Make sure of that!"

"It may take me quite a time," Mierin warned him, "And even more if he’s guarding his dreams, days at least, or weeks, if I’ll have to find him in the waking world."

Rand seemed indifference, "I don’t care how long it will take, Mierin. I want him dead."

"What about the rest, those of the Asha’man that went with him?"

Rand snarled, "Do you really need to ask?" Mierin nodded, and stepped back, the weave she wove before enveloped her and closed. When it faded completely, Elayne stared at where Mierin stood.

"She... vanished." She said, all she could see was quickly fading weaves, and the shield Mierin wove collapsing. The woman untied it a heartbeat before retreating.

"It’s similar to Traveling," Rand explained irritably, "but instead of a visible gateway, you create one that is hidden. It’s rarely used, it takes time to prepare, and too much of the Power. Its only advantage is that it’s much harder to follow you if you use it."

"That was what you did," Elayne accused, "when we first arrived, when you vanished in the fire."

"Yes," Rand turned to look at her, "It’s quite impressive, also." He seemed angry and frustrated, "you need to talk to your friends, don’t you? And I assume that Sorilea had arrived, I need to speak with her and Amys." By the look on his face, he wasn’t looking forward to the opportunity.

"I will talk to you before I travel back to Andor." Elayne said, coming closer and raising on tiptoes to kiss him. "And do try to rest a little." Then she turned and left him. She felt his eyes on her back while she crossed the room to the door; the stare cause her to smile.

---

Ilyena approached the door to her room, shoving it open, even as she cursed herself for her lack of self-control, only now catching her breath from the long bouts of laughter that had been ripped from her. Damn the whole situation! She almost wished that she was dead again, rather than having to put up with this. Light!

She stalked in, slamming the door shut behind her. Or at least, that's what she'd intended to do, but the satisfying sound of slamming door never materialized. Instead, the sound of footfalls did. Spinning around, she met the eyes of Valir.

Her first impulse was to shout or hiss at him, but that would simply perpetuate her lack of control. Schooling her features, she spoke with cold flatness.

"Why are you following me?"

"I know of at least four women who'd like you dead at this very moment," he replied with studied casualness. "Oh second thought, however, I could likely think of more. Beside, it's my room, if you forgot it."

She smiled and said, "I saw only three, but obviously, you're counting. Lews Therin has collected quite the little harem, there, hasn't he?" her voice was biting.

The man blinked rather blandly, and she saw the effort it was taking for him to maintain his cool front. "It might help," he said, "If you had something to do rather than stew in your own bitterness. I imagine it mustn't be pleasant, being in your position."

"How acute of you," she spoke acidly.

"Look," he said, suddenly straight speaking, "I came to talk to you, and maybe to be your friend, if you'll let me. Will you let me?" She eyed him with annoyance. She didn't want any pity, or any charity, which was obviously what he was offering.

"Leave," she snapped.

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head, "Not this time. You might be lot older than I am, and more powerful, but you obviously don't know your way around here, yet. And I have nothing else to do at the moment, so I'm going to teach you. And that isn't a request. I will do this," he spoke with determination.

"Really?" she asked with a small smile, "You are correct in one thing. I am more powerful than you are, I was one of the most power female Aes Sedai in the Age of Legends. I could force you to leave, or I could simply kill you," the last threat was false. She still served the Light, and would not kill a man who'd done nothing threatening to her, but she made it sound sincere. Still, she had to give him credit. He barely showed the flash of uneasiness he was feeling. After all, she had attacked Lews Therin quite effectively, nearly killing him before she was shielded.

"I am staying here," he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down, "And that's that." How did Lews Therin make men so careless of their own death, following him? Ilyena moved to say something, but paused. Someone was approaching, someone holding on to saidar, too strong, in truth, for a woman this Age. As strongly as very few could, even in her age. She narrowed her eyes and composed herself. It would not do to be seen out of sorts when whomever it was appeared. She smoother her skirts, a handkerchief took care of the signs on her face, then she said to the man in the chair: "Silence. Someone approaches," and sat down on a hard chair, ready to summon the Source at an instant's notice. A knock sounded upon the door, and Ilyena called out calmly, "Come in."

A long pause ensued before a lovely, pale, silver haired woman entered. Ilyena noticed Valir’s face; they were full on stunned horror.

Mierin walked through one of the endless hallways of Dragonmount with a determined look on her face. She knew where she was going; it was not something she looked forward to, but it had to be done. At least, it had to if she ever wanted to have peace again. She just had to settle this for once and for all. Still, she didn't have to like it.

Instinctively she reached out for Narishma through the Bond, something she had gotten used to the last few days. Narishma was a fool, if he thought she wouldn't notice why he was so eager to get her away from that room the Asha'man made into a refectory, or understand why he was so eager to get her away from there. She had to mute the fury and that surge of jealously, or else he would have known. He kept her near his side for as long as he could, but Logain called him soon afterward, and she got her chance to have a... chat with Ilyena Sunhair. It took a long time to find where the woman was hiding.

Mierin sighed, she didn't have enough sleep lately; she had always claimed she had total control over her dreams and Tel'aran'rhiod, but now she had faced fears and dreams she could not block away. One cannot block away memories as powerful and horrific as the ones we had during the cleansing. The subconscious will always be trying to dissolve it while one sleeps, she thought somberly. I haven’t had any nightmares ever since I learned to control my Dreams and enter the Unseen World.

There she was. Mierin looked at the heavy dark stone doors ... she truly began to hate stone ... and let her knuckles land on it. One thing about stone she especially hated was that they were so bloody hard!

"Come in," a pleasant female voice said from the other side of the door. A painfully familiar voice, one she had hoped never to hear again. How many times she dreamed about killing Ilyena?

Mierin drew a long breath and ran her fingers through her silvery hair, then she force herself to release her hold on saidar, before she entered. It has to be done if you ever want to find peace again, she told herself. Do what's necessary. Don't like it, if you don't want to, but do what you've to do. The last was something Lews Therin often said.

The door handle still in her hand, the only thing she saw was the golden haired woman, sitting on a plain wooden chair. Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. Ilyena Therin Dalisar. Ilyena Sunhair. Blue eyes met eyes that once were dark pool, and now were clear blue, three shades above that woman's eyes. "What can I do for you, child?" she asked, friendly.

The old hate flared up once again. She felt it in her stomach, in her throat, as if it exploded. She almost embraced saidar, but then she noticed the Asha'man in the room, Valir Nensen. Of course, he would protect Ilyena. Mierin wondered if he would be able to shield her; but he might succeed when linked with that hay hair fool. Ilyena had been as strong as she was with the One Power. She heard herself say things to the other woman in a voice she did not recognize as her own. A low voice, dripping with all the hate and disgust she stored for ages. "Why have you come here?" She heard herself asking. "Do you still love him?"

Ilyena blinked, "I hardly have a choice, girl." She said sarcastically. "And what do you mean, still love who? I saw you with that dark boy with the braids when I came here, but never before. I don’t think we ..."

"Oh, but you know me," Mierin said, still with that low voice. And with the language she had learnt to speak so long ago; what the people in this age called the Old Tongue. She noticed her hands trembling with anger; she didn't seem able to hold them still. "I should settle this between you and me for once and for all. Right now. Balefire could do it." For that woman, she was ready to break the law she made for herself, balefire was far more than dangerous, to the user as well as to those it was directed to. She saw Valir tense, but was too focus in her anger to do anything about it. "I wish I could just use balefire, erase you from the Pattern and the source of all my problems in life would be gone. I'd never have to see that accursed face of you again. Maybe I could even forget what you have done to me." At the same time, she clutched to saidar, ripping apart a shield that was placed on her, Valir's shield, strong indeed, yet not strong enough to stop her. She wove illusion, it anger her, that she had lost her body. The beautiful body she had, all she could say about the body she had now was that it wasn't ugly. Now she had to use illusion to be herself again. Her eyes were focused on Sunhair's face. "Do you know me now."

Ilyena gasped for breath. "Lanfear!" Saidar flowed into the woman, an amount equal to what she herself was, Mierin had to give her that, the woman was no fool. Valir rose from his chair and took one step toward Ilyena before he stopped.

Mierin couldn't help smiling faintly, seeing that reaction. "I did not come here to kill you. I just came to warn you. Keep those Light blasted paws of you off him this time, you hay haired wretch, he is mine." She let go of the weave of illusion; she wouldn't be reduced to that. But she kept her hold on saidar, it was said that the hate between her and Ilyena was bested only by the hate between Lews Therin and Ishmael.

"Lews Therin would never allow a Forsaken in his presence. He locked you and your friends in Shayol Ghul! He would never keep you with him!" Ilyena said disbelievingly, a part in Mierin's mind noted that it was the perfect opportunity to attack, when the woman wasn't ready for it. She refused to listen to it, but it refuse to silence.

"Not a Forsaken. We called ourselves Chosen," Mierin said absently. She realized the door handle was still in her hand, and closed the opened door. She Leaned with her back against it, creating as much space between her and the other woman as possible. "Anyway, that's in the past now. I am no longer a Chosen. I betrayed the Shadow, my Bond with the Great ... the Dark One is now broken. Severed, by your beloved husband." Valir looked sick.

"And your body," Ilyena suddenly sneered, no longer shocked. "It's not an... improvement since the last I saw you. What happened to it, by the way?"

Mierin fought the urge to strangle the other woman, that other part in her mind had suggested some very interesting weaves to try on that cursed creature. "I died, the same as you did, but that is none of your business. I just came here to let you swear you won't touch him anymore."

"For the Light's sake, Mierin Eronaile, Lanfear, we argued about this a million times before. I was the one that married Lews Therin, not you!" Her cheeks were red; Mierin recognized this proof of the other woman's anger. Somehow they always got each other furious and raging. They always ended up screaming at each other, though they had only used the Power in their endless argument twice. Once was in Ilyena's and Lews Therin's wedding, the other was in the middle of the War of Power. The first battle was stopped by Lews Therin, the second ended with none of them dead. Both her and Ilyena considered it as a personal failure.

"Lews Therin?" Mierin lowered her voice and permitted herself to smile. "Who said I was talking about Lews? I meant Jahar Narishma, my husband. Did I forget to mention that I'm married." For some reason, Valir looked surprised, and afraid. The astonished look on Ilyena's face was worth most of the sufferings she had had recently. It was worth everything! Maybe even dying!

Silence fell in Ilyena's room, it could almost be heard. "You can not have your Lews Therin back, you know. And I will not have you going after Narishma."

The Asha'man in the room still eyed the two women suspiciously, waiting for the slightest sign from one of them to strike with saidin. Not that there was much he can do, beside turn the tide. Mierin felt a compelling urge to do exactly as he expected. For the meantime, Valir was just watching them warily; ready to cut in if it would become serious. He would go for Ilyena's favor, no doubt, and that was the only thing that kept her from the woman's throat.

As Ilyena overcame her surprise, Mierin continued: "And I can guarantee you that you have any chance with Lews Therin. Not anymore. The man has... other interests now, different from a long dead woman from the Age of Legends, as they call it now. He loves others, now, too." She grinned; Ilyena might be able to control her face, but not her eyes. It was almost better than killing the woman! "If you take a look at the whole situation, Ilyena, you came out of it with less fortune than I. We battled over his love, we both had it, and we were both killed and was killed for him. And now we are both back, and I have Jahar Narishma. But you have nothing."

Ilyena's sky-blue eyes narrowed; it took something from her beauty away. "We will see," she just said, in the same ireful voice as Mierin was talking with. "Don't gloat before you know everything, Lanfear. There might be some surprises to you."

Mierin almost laughed. "Indeed, we will see, but I wouldn't bet on your chances." She grinned at the woman, unable control her face. "Oh, one more point before I leave you. I know who sent you. I also know something about how Moridin wants to use you... I will watch you closely. If you ever think about betraying either Lews Therin or Narishma, or what they stand for, I swear I will kill you at the very spot. And enjoy every moment of it." The last she didn't voice aloud, she didn't have to.

Ilyena just looked with her with a glare full of hate. "Try me, Mierin. You never did it before. You never succeeded before."

Mierin just smiled. "Try me, Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. Remember what I told you." She turned around slowly, leaving Ilyena in the presence of the Valir. She had surely given the woman something to think about. When she closed the door and walked back to the rooms she shared with Narishma, she felt much better. Some of the pressure on her shoulders was lifted. Suddenly she stopped and Leaned against the cold wall, she could repress it no longer. Her laugher began as a small giggle, but soon she laugh out loudly. Her entire body shaking with laugher; a red hair woman passed in the corridor, anger visible with every motion of her, the glare she gave her only made Mierin laugh harder.

---

They named us Shadar Sedai, Servants of the Shadow. A name given in fear and hate; a name we made ours with pride. We hide among them, unseen. And they move to our wishes, the Naeb’lis command, and the Light obeys. Strings tied so tightly they can never be broken, so cleverly that they would never be felt.

Shadar Sedai, The Dark Servants, we wait in the shadow we serve, wait for the moment to attack, to destroy. The Asha'man fear us, Aes Sedai shiver. They thought us to fight against the Shadow. Yet now we fight for the Shadow. Until the moment the Great Lord is freed, until the Wheel of Time breaks and the world remake in the Great Lord's image, shall we wait. Poisoned words and sharp steel; the One Power obeys to our call. We are their death and destruction. And they never know. Death waits for them from us, yet they never suspect. We belong to the Shadow, and walk among those who foolishly allied themselves with the Light. Their path leads to sure destruction. Our leads to eternal life, ruling this world for as long as time exist.

Betrayal shall be punished, failure shall be punished, success shall be rewarded.

Shadar Sedai’s words, believed to be their acceptance oath.

"It seems, Halima," Logain said, very slowly, he saw through red screen that obscure his sight. Without the Bond, she would have been dead again now, or wishing for death. Even she would find comfort in death if he could do to her half what he wanted, quarter! His hands were closed to fists. He had a vision of his hands around that pretty throat of that... He knew no word vile enough to describe her. She might have found a word fitting for her in that vast vocabulary of her. But even she would have to search hard. "That I'll be the one to teach our children that it's wrong to lie."

She sat on a chair in the quarters that were nearest to theirs, she seemed to have conquered the room, she and ten thousands cats or so. Of all the sizes and the colors that could exist. There was even a huge golden one that was five times the size of any normal cat Logain had seen in his life. And three dozens others he counted that were close to that monasteries cat in size. Yesterday's night, they all were in his room.

She had the gall to look pretty, seating with her legs crossed underneath her, black breach and coat that weren't as tight as Min's cloths. But were tighter than he would rather have her walk around with, there was also a small dark symbol on the left side of her chest. Where nobles often carried their house's sign. "What are you talking about?" She even sounded confused, and angry. How dared she?

She held saidin and was weaving something he never saw in his life. A mix of all Five Powers; the flows all centered into a cat, a furry tiny creature with deep silvery fur. He doubted if the creature was half the size of his fist. She didn't even look at him. Centering her attention on the bloody cat on her hip. "On second thought, Logain." She continued, "don't bother to answer. Return when your face wouldn't scare my cats."

He was too angry to hold saidin; something a distant part of him was thankful to. He had no idea what he might have done, had he had the One Power. Most the cats in the room were two or three months old, there were a large portion that seemed almost fully-grown, and of course, those huge ones that watched him coldly from wherever they laid. Unblinking stares that slide past the shield of fury that held him; the cats fled from him as he knelt by her chair. She spared him a single glance and snorted at his direction. "Go away, Logain. I'm busy. And I'm sure you must be, as well. Being a leader take much of your time, I know." Too much, already, with him barely two days in his new cursed position.

"You would listen to me, Halima." He told her slowly. "And you would listen to me now. If I had to tie you up to make you listen I'll. I swear you this by the Light!"

"Wait, then." Came the off thoughtreplay, "I can't let go of her now without risking her death." Logain stare at the cat she was holding, the creature was so young it didn't even open its eyes. "Now! I'd to put up with an hour of lecturing from Leanna and Toviene both! I want to know why you've lied!" His fisted landed on the chair's arm. It was made of thick wood, yet it cracked under his hand. She didn't even notice that. She was cold inside, the coldness of the emptiness one had to form in order to touch saidin, the coldness he was unable to create in his wrath.

She destroyed the walls of the hall and created a single room that was as big as some houses he had seen. And all around her lie those Light cursed cats! She withdrew her flows from the cat and gracefully rose from her chair, bending down to put the cat on the floor. Then she turned to face him.

Her fist landed on the ribs, it should have little affect on him. But he thought she broke three of his ribs; that was all he had time to think about, before he crashed into the floor. Fifteen feet from were he stood before. There were no cats were he had landed. And the cold floor was bloody hard. Saidin! The bloody woman used saidin against him!

Rage helped him ignore the pain as he tried to rise. He fell back on his back as something heavy jumped on him. That huge golden cat was baring its teeth at him. Standing on his chest, it looked much bigger than he thought the thing was before, and much heavier too. The thing Leaned its weight on the aching ribs. In purpose, Logain thought, as ridiculous it sounded.

Halima came near him and knelt by his head. Her hand touched her left side for a moment; she should have felt his pain as her own. "Now, let's begin again, Logain Albar." She said in that pleasant voice of her. "What was it that you said about children?"

His side ached, and few ribs were cracked or broken, she suspected. He was lucky she had time to calm down her anger. Or else she might have killed him. Ayende on him helped not a bit, she ignored the pain as she knelt near his head. His eyes were black storm, staring at her with boiling rage. How dare he? She was the one who had every right to be angry. She was surprised with herself, being able to control her temper so. She should have throw a tantrum or two at least by now.

The... cats weren't a fitting name for her creatures. Not anymore, at least. She would have to think for a while about that, she didn't want what happened to the Trollocs to happen to her darlings. They were gathering around them, the silvery female she had just finished with was the last one of them. She had great hopes for that silver fur kitty. So far, to her amazement, she lost less than a dozen. The rapid growing wasn't something she entered into them, at least not in purpose. But she was very pleased with that. If they only stop in the size she set to them. So far she had to take six of Flinn's Trollocs to satisfy their hunger, and it had been three days only! And there was the Gray Woman they also fed on, of course. And she supported them the best she could with saidin, but she wasn't Osan'gar, and her talent in that area was quite limited. "Now, let's begin again, Logain Albar." She said, as pleasantly as she could, had she could, she would have force him to eat his own heart. She was no great healer either, but any could duplicate the task of a heart with the One Power. She remember doing just that, very long ago, forcing a woman to eat her own heart after the woman sent false reports that disgraced her in the eyes of the Grea- Dark One. After that, there were fewer who dared crossed her path. "What was it that you said about children?" She meant to bear him no children, nor ever bed him, nor even share her bad with him anymore. There was only last night when he forced her to. And even Osan'gar would have to strain his abilities to make something of that. Beside, by what she felt, he already paid for that.

Ayende shifted her weight on his chest, leaning harder against him, sending tendril of pain into him, into her. Freedom, she named the big creature that she adored so much, a small joke she was very fond of. The man only stared at her, those dark eyes that stormed as much as his feeling in the back of her head. "Children?" He wondered. She could bear his pain no longer, even if he seems ready to put up with that to the end of time. Not even while she was a man she remembered once being so noble. Being noble was for fools, to her, when she still was he; it was to be used to charm the girls, never anything more. Especially after she betrayed the Light. Unlike Demandred or Rahvin or Bel'al, that although joined the Shadow, insisted on keeping old, worthless manners, especially when they have committed as much crimes and horrors as any of the Forsakens, her included. She flinched away from those memories, and glared at Logain. She pushed Ayende aside and hit him with a fist, right at his broken ribs. He groaned, she had to mute a scream. Torturing wouldn't work here, she never liked to endure pain, not her own nor others'.

She wove Healing, and he gasped, she felt his body, knew his emotions. For him, it felt like jumping into a lava lake, head first. "Would you answer me now, Logain?" She asked, as she offer him a hand to rise, and motioned her... pet away.

"Why did you lie?" He asked, rising from the floor easily, now that the pain was gone. He didn't take her hand.

She shook her head, "That is not the way it's about to work, Logain. Not from now on. You want your answers, I'll have mine too, then." He stared at her, stun. She seriously consider returning to physical abuse again, if he would insist on playing the stone head fool, she could stand the pain, for a little while, at least. "Take a seat and answer me, Logain. It's time for you to spread your cards; I want to know what game you're playing. I won't be a mindless tool, not ever again."

Luckily, there was another chair save hers in the room, at the far side of the room. Save that, the room was bare; there was a small pool to their right, the cats needed to drink. Flinn already brought them their morning Trollocs, and they left nothing but shattered bones. The thought amused her, a little. She entered a... taste for Shadowspawns flesh into her creations. Logain sat, every movement radiating anger. Fury even washed away tiredness; she didn't thought that he slept much those past few days. First because of cleansed saidin ... she touched tainted saidin once only, and she savored the glory of saidin as it was cleansed ... and then because of him becoming M'Hael.

Logain opened his mouth, as if to speak, yet she was ready to have none of it. "What have you meant about children, Logain?" She demanded.

"Would you answer my questions, if I answer yours?" He asked, she suspected that only the Bond prevented him from attacking her physically. That small tidbit sum most of what she knew about the Bond. The weave she remembered made no sense, it should have killed Logain, not Bond her. His hands were closed to fists around the chair's arms, knuckles white.

"I already said I do!" She snapped at him, "Now answer me!"

He forced his lips to form a smile; she could feel his anger, matching hers. His heart pulsed too quickly, and... he was ready for violence, and she would be happy to give him what he expected, if she wouldn't have her answers. Now! "Forgive me for being cautious with you, Halima. You can hardly blame me, though. Being who and what you are." He said.

Ayende growled, and raised her head to give the man a glare. Unblinking golden eyes met Logain's dark stare. Halima seen Ayende attacking, although it was only a game done on a Trolloc's corpse, it would take a while longer to teach Ayende to kill efficiently. Ayende's eyes lay on Logain's throat. Even with saidin, he would be dead before he could do anything, if Ayende decide to attack. The speed of the huge cat was shocking, it was partly because she tried to encourage it, and partly for... ...she truly hate using this parse ... sheer coincidence. Osan'gar might be able to explain her what she did to give Ayende and the others the speed of a lightning striking. "Does it understand me, Halima?" Logain asked, and she had to quell a start.

"What?" She wondered, still half staring at Ayende, who seemed ready to attack. She motioned and Ayende sat down again near her chair, not before she growled at Logain again and looked at her with what Halima might have called disappointment, if Ayende was human. "You can kill him later, Ayende." She told the big cat and bend to caress the thick fur around the ears. "Now I need the answers he can give me."

Logain simply stare, "Did you hear me?"

"I did," She told him, "Maybe she does. I'm not exactly sure what Ayende can do and what she can't." She had fair ideas, nothing she could be sure about.

"Freedom?" He sounded a trifle surprise. "You named this... thing Freedom?" Ayende growled at him again. Neither her nor the golden female were very much fond of the dark huge man at the moment.

"I did," She replied, by his face, he understood what were the deeper meanings of the name. She didn't think he would even understand the meaning of the word. He knew far less than she did, but he mustn't be scorned. Her current... position was a constant reminder of the surprises this age may bring. Not to mention feeling him in the back of head.

"Why?" He demanded to know, the surge of fury gave her the rest of the question, he wasn't talking about the name anymore.

"Why did I tell Leanna that I was raped?" She wondered, he sat frozen, back as straight as the walls of the Hall of Servants. His face were blank, his eyes storm. "Wasn't I?" He moved, faster than most humans could, but as fast as he was, Ayende was faster, much faster. "It seems that you make it a habit of yours." She said, looking down at him, he laid on the floor. Ayende on his chest, claws unsheathed and her mouth a hair from his throat. "I wouldn't recommend you to hold saidin, Logain." She advised him from her seat on the chair. "Ayende can feel saidin or saidar in a human, and she will rip apart your throat before you would even began to hold enough to do anything useful."

"Do you've any idea what would happen to you if I die?" Logain asked, his voice cracked with fury.

"Not quite," He said once that if an Asha'man dies, so would his warders, it didn't sound... right. "Tell me!" It was a command, not a request. She had rarely had need to use that tone of voice, a voice full of sureness and power.But it often had the desired affect. It had the same affect on Logain; she half thought it wouldn't. That bloody Bond! It made her look at him as if he was a hero out of a legend. Those heroes of the stories she was so fond of before the War of Power began. Before she became one of the Shadow's champions. The thought made her want to flinch. She touched her pocket. An acorn lied there, to remind her what she had became, and why. It was Logain's fault she felt guilt, all but unknown feeling to her before!

What can be expected of a lovesick woman? Ayende sighed in her mind, and do you truly wish to go back. She couldn't even do that! That bloody bond made longing to the days where she all but ruled the entire world impossible. In the coldness of k'doi, the oneness, she could estimate her position in the past and the present. And reach the conclusion that as one of the Chosens her life would have been better. The Gray Woman was only the first attempt; she didn't expect to survive over a month at most. But whatever Ayende thought, she was not in love with Logain. The man's doings were equal to killing her!

Logain was speaking, she understood. And turned her attention to Logain, in her mind, Ayende snorted. "Death is mercy compare to what will happen to you, Halima. I cannot say anything more." She blinked at him, not really sure how she was suppose to feel about it. Not really sure what he had said it, or how truthful he was.

"Have you decided to be truthful with me at last, Logain?' She inquired. Shooing Ayende away, she gave him a hand to help him rise. This time, he took it.

He snorted, "I never lied to you, Halima." He told her, "And before you will tell me, I'm fully aware that you can tell what is not true without lying." He took his seat back, glancing at Ayende once. He still hold her hand, he didn't seem ready to let go of her.

Ayende tensed as the big man pulled the Lady's hand. Halima landed on his lap with a stun cry of shock. "Let go of me!" She demanded. But it had no affect on the big man; the Lady called him Logain. And Ayende couldn't make her mind whatever he was an enemy or a friend. He smelled nice, the Lady's nose was all but unusable, but she noted that too.

"Now you'll answer me." The big man said, by his voice, he wanted to strangle the Lady. But he smelled of no violence.

Humans are strange! Rahien made his way to her, his fur gray and black and deep brown. The Lady named only few of them; it was strange, in truth, Ayende thought. Sometime ago she was tiny; her eyes close and totally depended on her mother for food and warmth. And then... there was coldness and hunger for a long while. Her mother gone, but the Lady was there. Ayende remembered three times where she was commanded to sleep, and woke in a body much larger than she fell asleep in. All she could remember from those times was pain that wasn't pain. The Lady was responsible to this, to make them what they were. Ayende saw her taking a tiny creature with no awareness and changing it to something else, changing it so it would be like Ayende and Rahien. It was fascinating, to feel the small creature’s awareness opened up, like a flower in the sun. Ayende had never seen a flower or the sun, but the Lady seen both, and Ayende was a part of the Lady.

They are strange indeed, Ayende agreed. Rahien was about two thirds of her size, and the Lady said she would let them develop naturally from now. Ayende knew that she hadn't reached her final size. Neither did any of her like in the room. The Lady said that they should be about the size of a small horse. The picture that the Lady had in her mind saying that made Ayende wonder whatever horses where as tasty as Trollocs were.

I like him, Rahien thought slowly, it was the first time he talked. The Lady knew how they could speak to one another, to humans too, but Ayende didn't. It worked, though, and that was what important. Why are they so angry at one another?

Ayende considered the question for a moment, she wasn't quite sure of it herself. Because they are human, I assume. She told Rahien, he wants her. Her heart and soul and mind and body, but She doesn't want to want him, and so she pretend she doesn't. That what make them act so.

Rahien laid his head on his front paws and watched with open curiosity. Why she doesn't want to want him? I want him. His eyes turned to her; can I've him?

Ayende resume her watching on the Lady. He forced himself on her, Rahien. I don't think you would like to have him. And it's the Lady to decide anyway.

He had forced himself? Rahien asked confusingly. Have you lost your nose? Smell him! He would do anything for her; he can't harm her!

Ayende sighed, I don't understand it either, Rahien. She admitted, but she said he forced himself on her, and she didn't lie. Maybe it will be better if you'll listen to them, it could help us understand them.

I doubt it, Rahien thought back grimly. But he returned his eyes to the big man and the Lady on his lap.

"I want to know why!" The big man demanded, the Lady tried to rise, not for the first time. But the dark man was stronger; she didn't stop trying, though. "Stop this!" The man cried finally. The Lady did stop; she sat on the man’s lap and glare at him. "Now, I don't like forcing my will on you like this, Halima!" The man said with dark voice, "But I'll have my answer! Why have you told Leanna that I've raped you?"

"You do it often enough, Logain." The Lady replied, brushing away strands of hair that hang in front of her face. She quivered with rage. "You've done it too many times already. And you dare claim your innocence!"

"I! Did! Not! Rape! You!" He said, each word landing like a whip, harsh and cold.

The Lady snorted, "What do you call it then?" She demanded to know, "As hard as I tried to escape, you are still stronger, in the body, at least. And I couldn't use the power against you then!"

If she dislikes seating on him so much, why isn't she using the power to get away from him now? Rahien asked slowly, obviously confused. But he wasn't half as confused as Ayende was.

She does like to seat on, and to touch him. She would've liked to bed with him as well, I think. But she can't, because what she feels for him was forced on her, and she is too proud to accept it. And he only makes it worse each time they are more than ten heartbeats in the same room with her. Rahien didn't answer, he just watched.

"All I did," The man said, smelling of hard fury and sharp rage, "was to share the bed with you. My bed was full, if I recall correctly." He took a deep breath and released it, "Since when it's a rape, Halima? I never force myself on a woman in my life, I've already told you so! And at the same time I've told you that I don't mean to start with you! I meant what I've said! Need I to make myself clearer?"

The Lady rose from the man, he did not try to stop her this time. "I doubt if you can," The Lady grumbled. "Are you done lecturing? I need some answers of my own; I can't go around without knowing anything about the bloody Bond. It drives me crazy. You drive me crazy!"

"What do you want to know?" The man asked, fury still made his scent sharp, but Ayende smelled coldness in him too.

"The first thing," The Lady said slowly, surprise on her face, "shows me the weave."

The man's right hand closed into a fist around the chair's arm. "You mean to take yourself a warder or two of your own?" His voice reminded Ayende the sound snakes did, just before attacking.

The Lady snorted, "Don't be a fool, what can I do with another man the like of you?" She stopped for a moment, frowning, "It works on women only, isn't it? Or would it work on men, for me?"

The chair's arm broke with a loud sound of thick wood being shredded. The man's voice remained emotionless, "It should work on both males and females, Halima. An Asha’man would take women only as warders, of course. You..." He shrugged. "Here is the weave, although I doubt if you'll ever have to use it."

"I'm surprised that you aren't ordering me not to use it," The Lady said, her eyes focused on nothing Ayende could see, both of them held the power. Ayende knew, the Lady tried to understand how could she knew when she was holding the power and when not, but Ayende couldn't find the words for it. There weren't, she, and all the others, simply knew. Just as they knew what is the difference between the smell of sharp fury and soft amusement, the two emotions the Lady often smelled of most of the time.

"It might save you life, one day." The man replied, "It saved mine, though I'm beginning to regret it." He barked a bitter laugh and watched the Lady blushing. "I'll not stop you from doing anything that might save your life."

"Save returning to the shadow," the Lady murmured. "Or letting me go away."

Rahien made a sound deep in his throat. He will never let you go away to the Shadow, Lady. He can't, and you can't too. Accept it, and live with it, since it cannot be changed, mustn't be changed.

The Lady glared at him,. "Be quite, Rahien. Or else you might find yourself being thrown to the dogs." Rahien didn’t shared share the thought with the man, and now the man was watching the Lady intently, he began to smell of worry.

Why would I like to eat dogs, Rahien wondered, are they as good as Trollocs?

"Rahien?" The man wondered.

"The big black and gray cat near Ayende; his name means Dawn." The Lady replied.

"Have you gave them all names in the Old Tongue?" The man said, he began toying with the broken chair'sarm in his hand.

"Only the big ones," The Lady said, and then she added: "It's different, Logain. Very different from the weave you've used to Bond me! I thought you agreed not to lie to me."

"I didn't," He said, "The weave has to be altered, the weave for a second warder work on the first warder, the second one and the Asha'man who took those two warders. That is part of the reason that both Leanna and Toviene like you. It's also done because if you will not alter the weave upon taking a second warder the first one will die."

"And you? What would it make you feel?" Ayende would have smiled if she could have, as it was. All she could do was mentally giggle at Rahien's direction.

"Does it matter?" The man asked, "Since you seemed so willing to ignore me, I'm pretty sure that you can ignore what I feel for you as well."

The Lady sat on her chair. Ayende raised herhead, and almost instantly was rewarded by the Lady's hand, scratching just behind her ears. That was why humans had hands, it felt so good that... Rahien looked at her, and she could read jealously in the gray eyes that glared at her. She giggled at him once more. "It does." The Lady said finally.

The man Leaned back in his chair, "Good," He murmured in satisfaction, "Now, why have you told Leanna I've raped you?"

"You did," Came the flat replay. Ayende was aware to the way Rahien tensed suddenly.

"The Light burns my soul!" The man exclaimed, and made as if to rise, then he glanced at her direction, and remained in his chair. "I didn't rape you! Do you even know what the word mean!"

The Lady blinked, "I'm no fool, Logain."

"Then why are you insisting that I raped you, I didn't!"

"How do you call what you've done, then?" The Lady asked, shame mingled in her smell for a moment, then gone. "You forced me to remain in the same bed with you, fully aware that I rather sleep with a corpse than with you!"

"Exactly the reason I did it!" The man shouted. "To give you a taste of what you've done to me! Do you think that I like have dead women in my bed?"

The Lady shrugged, amused once again, but hiding it well. "I've seen worse, did worse, in my life, Logain. You are aware of it. You made me tell you all of this. You made me feel guilty about it!"

"So that was the way you have decided to get back at me?" The man demanded, his smell became dark and dangerous.

"I told Leanna nothing but the truth!" The Lady shouted. A ball of fire appeared in the air and sped toward the man, Ayende closed her eyes hastily; the fireball was twice as brighter as the sun she saw only in the Lady's memories. The fire was gone, but before her eyes danced strange shapes in every color. She blinked few times until they were gone.

"Are you talking the same language as I'm?" The man demanded, "I didn't rape you." He exhale a breath slowly, "Why am I trying to talk with you? You don’t even bother to listen to what I say!"

The Lady began to laugh, so hard that she would have fall off her chair if not for the man catching her. "What is bloody wrong with you?" He demanded to know. Holding her as far as he could while supporting most of her weight.

"What isn't?" The Lady chuckled as the stream of laugher finally died. The man left her, but she took a step closer to him, wary was as heavy in the man as amusement that edged madness was in the Lady. Ayende did not whined, but she had a terrible urge to do so. Do something to make the Lady return to the way she always was. Not this half mad creature that wrapped its arms around the man's neck. "First," The Lady said, "there am me being female. Second, there is this body affecting my mind. You've no idea how strong that can be, even stronger than what the Bond did to me. And of course there is the Bond, and you. And there is also that I was nearly gotten myself killed yesterday. Lews Therin might decide any moment he doesn't trust me still, despite the Bond, and kill me. And there is Osan'gar, who knows me better than I know myself. And if he would like, he can simply create a shadowspawn whose only reason for existence would be my death. And there are you, who try hard to drive me crazy, with large success, I must add. There is this barbaric language! And there are my cats, should I call them Valdar Asha'man, those who defend the guardians? I can't seem to decide. And there is the Dark One; there can be no doubt that he already had something in his mind that would be worse than death at the moment. I can't imagine something worse than death, but he's planning something still. But more than anything else, I've you! And you asking what is wrong with me?" The Lady took another small step and hit the man's chest. She held none of saidin this time. She hit him again. "I hate you! I really hate you!"

Is that the way human shows hate? Rahien inquired after a while, is she trying to bite off his tongue? The thought carried too much amusement to be sincere.

Ayende jumped on him, her claws bare and mouth roaring. She didn't like Rahien very much at the moment, by the time she reached the smaller male, he was no longer there. But she wasn't about to give up.

---

Leanna pushed the door open with angry curse. Toviene told her that she must return to whatever it was she was doing. Something about kitchens and Asha'man and food; From the few times she was in the Black Tower, Leanna didn't want to know what the woman might have meant, cooking wasn't something she could work her mind around, when it came to the Black Tower. Asha'man needed to eat, just like everybody else, but she couldn't quite grasp the idea of Asha'man cooking. She, however, had no intention to help in the kitchens, and she wasn't done with Logain.

After Halima left, all but sobbing, she went to find Toviene. What the woman had with kitchens anyway? Toveine was as angry with Logain as she herself was, but when they finally found and dragged him to a private talk, he acted as if he knew nothing of what they were talking about. The problem was, she believed him, and believed Halima as well. She was quite good as telling when one was lying and when one wasn't. She knew they both told the blunt truth. But it was impossible!

She had no time to tell it to Logain, almost as soon as he understood what they were talking about he stormed away, searching for Halima. She was about to chase him when Toviene said that Logain wouldn't harm Halima. Considering what they knew about the Bond, he couldn't. This made Halima's story impossible. On the other hand, as Toviene had to point up for her, there were other possibilities. Halima might have convinced herself she was raped, while she didn't mind to bed with Logain. Or Halima might have wanted to lie with Logain, only to change her mind later. Or, what seemed most probable, Halima somehow lied and she didn’t notice this. After all, as Toviene pointed out, they should have felt it if such thing happened.

At that point, Toviene left disgustfully, and Leanna went on searching for Logain. Not that she had to trouble much, with the bond. Which was how she found herself opening the door and staring at the couple that stood in the center of the room.

It was strange, the way human mind worked. She noticed the kitties that she and Toviene worked so hard to gather. As far as she saw, only few of them remained the size they were, the others grown, to sizes impossible! A cat with pale red-brown fur, as big as most dogs, chased a smaller cat in black and gray. The others moved away from the two cats' way, but beside that, their eyes were focused on Logain and Halima. Which brought into her attention Halima and Logain again.

Two figures becoming one in a kiss that made them forget all about the outside world. Leanna had hard time not blushing; she felt the kiss, through Logain. Blushing or no blushing, she paid closed attention to what Logain felt, mainly surprise, but it wasn't his emotions that she had interested in now. As close attention as she paid to Halima; considering that the woman claimed that the man raped her, she showed no sign of it. She also showed no sign that she had any wish to break the kiss, ever.

Logain stepped back, tried to, Halima's arms were around his neck, and he ended up simply dragging the dark woman with him. "What have you done to Halima?" He asked breathlessly.

"What?" Halima stare at him, and Leanna began to wonder whatever she should give them some privacy. As well as she began to wonder if this was how they have kissed last night, when Logain supposedly raped Halima. Something she seriously begun to doubt now.

"I asked" Logain explained patiently, "What have you done with Halima? This is not how Halima behave."

Halima took a step back and tried to slap him. Laughing, he caught her arm just before it landed on his cheek. "Let go of me, you..." Her mouth worked, but she said nothing, to Leanna it seemed that she had hard time to choose between all the curses she knew.

"Should I leave you two alone?" She asked softly, she should have been mad with jealously, all she felt was amused fondness. "I can return later, if you wish some privacy, Halima." Her voice gave them both a start. They didn't even notice her! Halima’s cheeks reddened.

Logain was dark in his face as well, but it was harder to know with him. "That would be unnecessary." Halima said with hard voice.

"Sadly," Logain added, she and Halima both glared at the fool man. He didn't even notice, he never did. Not even when he was gentled. "Have you come here to give me another lecture about how I should behave toward Halima?" He raised an eyebrow and looked so beautiful that she wanted to kiss him and, at the same time, arrogant enough to have his ears boxed. His right hand closed into a fist, fingernails buried in the skin, "Or have you came to see how I force myself over Halima?" He was angry, she realized, very angry, maybe he had right to be angry, but why was he angry with her. It was Halima who lied.

"I think I came here to lecture," She replied truthfully, his eyes widen with rage, but he moved no muscle. "That would be unnecessary, apparently." Halima's blush deepened; her cheeks seemed to be ready to go on fire. Logain was very close to losing his temper, not something to be expected to. She hadn't seen him losing that self-control of him, not because of rage, at least. She suspected he could be as bad as Halima; few could top that woman’s tempers. "What have you done to them, Halima?" Leanna asked; her surprised was real. Three days ago there wasn't a single kitty that wouldn't have fit comfortably inside her fist. Now she saw that some of the kitties that she and Toviene worked so hard to gather were the size of dogs! The others had reach full size already; it was purely impossible.

The woman hesitated, her cheeks still red, and Leanna could almost feel the woman's relief as the subject changed. She walked the few steps to a chair with its right arm broken and sat down. "I doubt if the word in the Old Tongue would mean anything even to those who know it, like you, Leanna." The raven hair woman said, the cats were like a moving carpet on the floor, constantly shifting places. "The best translation I can offer is not exactly correct, but it will do. I manipulated certain variables in the most basic units of their body, thus causing the desired resulted, if I'm lucky."

Logain stared, "All this can be said in one word, and you call our language barbaric?"

"Yes," Halima replied immediately, her eyes shined with green fire, "And yes yet again."

"Before you would try to kill each other, or kiss each other to death," Leanna shouted; the way they stared at each other, each of those two options was possible. They blushed together, too. "Will you be kind enough to tell me what this manipulating variables means, and make in simple!"

Halima moved uneasily on her seat, Leanna took the only other chair in the room. "Every creature in the world," Halima began, then frowned and corrected herself, "Almost every creature in the world has... building instructions somewhere inside him. To tell the body how it suppose to built itself."

"Who write this building instructions," Logain inquired, "the Creator?' By Halima's laugh, that wasn't the right answer.

It took the woman a long time to stop laughing ... it seemed that whatever she felt, she felt strongly, rage or laugher, and nothing in-between ... and she still giggled, answering: "Your parents are the ones who gave you this, you're a mix of their... building instruction," she began laughing again, saying that. She rose a hand, stopping any from talking, "Now, before the War of Power Aginor was named Ishar Morrad Chuain, and he was the world's greatest researcher in that field. Not only he was among the strongest of the strongest, but also matched in that area by none. He forsook the Light because he became bored with dealing with plants all day. I forsook the Light because I wanted immortality," She added before any of them could say a word. "Aginor created all the Shadowspawns for us. Unfortunately, he was also as mad as Ishmael was, if not more, half my time in the War was dedicated to making sure he would concentrate on what he was suppose to do, not on useless research." Logain was as still as any statue Leanna had seen. What she felt from him... not quite distaste, and not quite fear and disappointment, there was no name for this emotion.

"So you learned from Aginor how to create Shadowspawns," Logain voice was angry, accusing, Halima might have winced, Leanna couldn't have been sure.

"I did," She said coldly, a queen on her throne, though a broken one, "But the Valdar Asha'man are no shadowspawn. They have nothing to do with shadowspawns in any way, save maybe their stomach." Had she truly named the creatures Valdar Asha'man? Those who guard the guardians.

"Their stomach," She kept all emotions from her voice, she never dreamed to take part in such a conversation, though she might have nightmares about this.

"Yes, they like to eat shadowspawns, so I had to make some changes in their stomach, so they wouldn't be poisoned."

"What other changes have you made in them?" Logain seemed in ease, leaning on the wall and looking at Halima with dark eyes, until you notice the way he held himself, with every muscle tensed, a lion just before the attack.

"The size, of course," Halima began, "they would be the size of a horse, six feet high, more or less, with all the other dimensions matching the height." Logain mutter an oath silently. "I also accelerated the speed they would grow in," Certainly, considering what Leanna saw, three days ago there weren't a single one bigger than her fist! "I couldn't wait, you see. And the fastest growing rate isn't enough. As it is, it takes them about three months to reach full size, and it's too slow for my need. I had to use saidin again to make them big enough in the short while I have."

"How, and why?" Logain asked.

Halima opened her mouth few times, and then she sighed. "It's hard to explain, in this language, at least. You might say that I poured energy into them, and made sure it would be directed toward growing. You can double their size that way, in few hours only. And I'm strong enough to take care for several of them in the same time. It's dangerous, though, if you are not careful, you end up with nothing but a dead corpse. As for why," She Leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed. "I'm dead, Logain. Dead already despite my heart beating, I was dead the moment you took me as... your warder. The Dark One must have already informed all the other Chosens about my... betrayal. And ordered them to kill me. That Gray Woman was only the first attempt, they would continue, until they are succeed." Logain growled, deep in his throat, sounding hardly human suddenly. "I don't meant to die easily, however, I made the cats because they might delay my death."

"Quite a guard, you have made for yourself," Leanna wasn't sure what made her say that.

"I understand that in the White Tower, a warder should defend his Aes Sedai until his last drop of blood." A dark smile appeared on Halima's lips, tired smile. "I cannot allow myself to do so, nor I can allow Logain to die. Considering that I would die along with him." Leanna could feel a vile taste in Logain's throat. "Now I can defend Logain, until the Valdar's last drop of blood." She chuckled bitterly for a moment. This time Leanna was sure, Logain did wince.

The silence broke by Halima's voice; neither her nor Logain seemed to have anything to say. "I tried to make something more, and there I wasn't so lucky." A shiver ran through her, Logain took a step forward, and stopped. "When I first woke up in Shayol Ghul, I realize just how cruel Lews Therin trap was. Aginor and I were trapped just beneath the surface, Ishmael was only half trapped, he was the only one of us that realized what was happening and was able to act in time. He managed to keep his body from the turning of the wheel. I didn't, and neither was Aginor. I woke in a body that felt three thousands years on its flesh." Halima raised a gentle hand into the air and examined it, delicate fingers opening and closing, "It almost worth it, being a woman, just to escape that rotten body." She stared directly at Logain now, "Those who touched saidin before it was cleansed had been rotten alive, after they have gone mad, most often, but before as well. I know what it mean to live in a body that had been corrupted so." Something that might have been a laugh or a sob gave Leanna a start. "When I first tried to talk, after waking, my tongue became dust inside my mouth. Then, the Dark One wasn't strong enough to give me a new body, I'm not sure that the Dark One was even completely aware for the world at the time, he was too busy breaking through the seals. It was Ishmael that commanded us then. And we were sent to the Eye of the World, and died." The woman's face was in the color between white and green. "In the meantime, I had to find a way to communicate, without a tongue." She took a deep breath, calming herself, "I found one, necessary is the parent of all inventions, so they said in my time."

"What it was?" Leanna asked, she had to fight weaves of pity, force her voice to sound just as it always did. Halima wasn't one to accept pity lightly.

That was what it was, Halima said. Logain gasped, and Leanna felt herself jumping. It was Halima's voice, but it hadn't reached her through her ears. "The Light burns my soul to ashes!" Logain whispered in awe. "Hold that weave again, Halima. If I see it once more I could use it."

Halima nodded, she grinned slightly to their shock. "The weave creates the desire thought pattern inside one's mind. It's a little like compulation, but for information only."

"It's also very much like the bond," Logain noted. Leanna muttered few curses; it wasn't fair! She couldn't see what they were talking about.

"Maybe," Halima said doubtfully. "I'll have to think about it. But I don't think so, it doesn't create a permanent result."

"But how it has anything to do with the cats, those Valdar Asha'man of yours?" Leanna inquired.

"I hoped to make spies out of them, and I stretched my talent in that direction to its limits and more in order to give them the ability to do so without having the One Power."

"So they could report back to you." Logain sounded fascinated, just as she was.

"That was the idea; although I hoped to use this ability in order to see what they see, hear what they hear, at the exact time this is happening. It didn't worked as well as I expected."

"Oh?"

On the other hand, maybe it worked just right. This time, the voice that spoke inside her mind wasn't Halima's, despite carrying stunning resemblance to the dark woman's voice. A golden cat, the biggest she have seen so far, the one who was running all over the place not that long ago, raised from the floor, a small kitty with dark brown fur slide of the big cat as it moved forward.

Logain muttered something about needing to seat down. He stood near her chair in just few long strides, pulling her out of the chair as if she weighted no more than any of the small kitties. He landed on the chair hard enough to make it crack warningly. She was just about to say something about her knees not supporting her body very well at the moment when he sent his hands and sat her on him. Halima grinned amusingly at her direction all the while. "It talked!" Leanna hardly recognized her voice, so thick was shock and surprise.

"She talked," Halima corrected him, "And she has a name, Ayende." Leanna wanted to wince, Halima played with fire, teasing Logain so. Why under the Light did she have to name the cat Freedom? Sooner or later someone would tell Logain what it meant. She noticed that her mind was off, and set it back to what was important. It was hard, Light! Her mind wanted to travel at any direction but at those cats. Her eyes focused on Halima. The woman showed no sign that showed she was aware that Logain was holding another woman on his. But Leanna had seen how the woman looked at other women whenever Logain was around, always checking whatever he noticed the other women. Leanna didn't think that Halima was even aware that she did that. Leanna, however, was well aware to her doing when she did just that. She just couldn't avoid it.

And had Logain put any notice to other women, she would have... she had no idea how she would react to such betrayal of him. Logic told her that he had betrayed her trust already, twice. Bonding Toviene and Halima, but that was different. It felt different, at least, and she couldn't care why.

Logain voice was very deep, very commanding, and had almost hypnotic quality. Leanna thought she could listen to it forever, "Halima, tell me everything about those Valdar of yours!"

"I offer you to trade information, Logain Albar. You cheated before, now are you ready to play fair?"

"I wasn't aware that you know the meaning of play fair." Logain shot back.

Halima laughed, "I sure do, I just never agreed to be limited by fool rules." Leanna hide a smile. "Now, tell me what I want to know about the bond. And maybe I'll tell you what I know."

"What do you want to know?" Leanna was the one saying that, Logain wasn't about to agree to such bargain, but he could be pushed to it. And she wanted to know about the bond as much as Halima wished.

"Everything," Halima said immediately. "But you can start with what it does to me. And how it does it."

"I don't know how it do it," Logain shrugged, "It works, that is all that matters. As for what it does, the first thing is to put your emotions and physical state in my head, and mine in yours. Then it force trust on both of us."

"Explain," Leanna ordered, twisting around so she could look at his face comfortably.

Logain sighed, "How can I explain something I'm not certain about myself?" He wondered, "What happen is that both warder and his bondholder can not break the other's trust in them."

"The reason why I can belong to the Shadow no longer." Halima said, "If it was someone else, Demandred or Osan'gar, for example, I would have my liege to the Shadow still, isn't it?" Logain nodded slowly, frozen. "But wouldn't it pull you to the Shadow as well, if it affect both of us at the same time, I mean."

"Halima," the big man sighed, "the Bond does not work this way. It's not equal in all ways, maybe in some, you may even say that in most, but not in all."

"I noticed," Halima said dryly. Then she shocked her head, releasing the thought. How could she do it, with something that important? "Carry on, Logain. What other traps I'm to expect?"

Logain's face might have been carved of stone, Leanna had a feeling that he was weighting the scales, considering what to tell and what not to. "What isthere to hide that you are so careful about even with me and Halima? And that heartbeats after you stated that you trust us both!" She demanded angrily. She pulled herself to her feet, ignoring what sounded very much like a regretful sigh from Logain's direction.

"Nothing that can risk you," Logain replied, "On the other hand, it might risk me. Pardon me then, ladies, for wishing to keep my hide whole."

Halima opened her mouth, and then closed it; fury was radiated from her suddenly. Leanna couldn't feel Halima's emotions. But Logain could, he wavered, then stared at Halima with eyes as wide as they would go. Even without feeling the woman's emotions, it was easy to say that the woman was angrier than any other time Leanna had seen. Face blank, green eyes empty, she revealed not a single emotion. Yet... Leanna couldn't take her eyes from the shorter woman, she had seen woman of great inner power before, woman that would have look regal in rags. Men too, although that seemed far more rare, Logain was one of them, and Rand al'Thor as well, and Gareth Bryne, and Agelmar Jagad, and few others.

Halima, on the other hand, could make any of them look like beggars. Her presence demanded immediate and complete obedience. She clad herself in black silk, breach and coat that reflect the light weakly, a small circle on the left side of her breast, an oak burning. Still, she was the most commanding human being Leanna had ever met, and that included more nobles than she bothered to count, most of the kings and queens of the world, most of the living Aes Sedai, five Amyralin Seats, three False Dragons and the Dragon Reborn. Leanna even met Cadsuane once, just before the last battle in the Aiel War. It would be interesting, to see those two meat, from a safe place, that is. Leanna knew that the woman was no weak will, otherwise, she would’ve have managed to survive holding as much as the One Power as she could hold. But this display was new. Suddenly it occurred to Leanna that she had probably never met someone as old as Halima. It wasn’t uncommon for an Aes Sedai to live beyond one hundred years. And Cadsuane was rumored to be well beyond two hundred years old. But even excluding the time Halima spent in the Dark One’s prison. There was a reason why age was considered a factor in the Aes Sedai’s hierarchy. And now Leanna faced the justification for that order. Halima radiated anger and command in equal amounts, seemingly unaware of it. The way she looked, she could’ve out willed any Aes Sedai Leanna met. But what sparked that, Leanna could not tell, that Logain hide something from them was not enough, not even for Halima.

Still, the woman made no move to attack or to unleash her temper. She stared at Logain, not even glaring, but he paled. "You wanted to know about the Valdar, Logain." She said, her voice chiming pleasantly. Hot fury burn fast, but it's cold urge to revenge that one had to worry about, why did she reminded in that old Domani saying now? "You know their size, I increased the speed they can move and act and attack. At need, they can moveabout five times faster than any human or Trolloc can see. Three times above what any Myradraal can begin to understand that he’s under attack. They link themselves to a single person, gender to match. Instead of their ability to transfer what they see or hear to the one they've linked themselves to, they seem to conquer themselves a part in that one's mind, making it their own. Ayende is I, a part of my mind that she made her own, a part of my mind that control the Valdar’s body. But at the same time, it’s a different personality altogether." All that was delivered in a mild tone, clear and silent, but the words still seemed to Leanna like whips, she was only glad that the woman's anger, be it reason whatever it be, wasn't directed at her. Halima didn't stop to breath throughout the whole speech. Now she took one deep breath, and her eyes did glare now, Logain took one step back, a defensive expression on his face, a wondering expression too. "I believe that that should be all." Halima finished, and trotted for the door, she didn't even bother to open it, three steps before she reached it, the door exploded in a bloom of fire so hot that the rock began to melt around the doorframe. The rook itself began to burn, Halima passed through that gate of fire without a single hesitation, the big golden female raced after her, stopping once to growl at Logain direction.

"Well, well, well." Leanna muttered slowly, her eyes focused on what was, once, the entrance to the room. "I think you're deep in troubles."

"Tell me about it!" Logain grumbled; she frightened him, Halima, not Leanna. The way she suddenly flared with fury so suddenly. More so because she controlled her temper, it meant something bad, he suspected.

"And you don't have any idea what she was so angry about, I assume." Leanna said, she was only a head below his own height, taller than most men. Thin and tall and beautiful, with eyes that touched him in a way he never wanted to be touch.

"Little less than you do," He told his willowy warder.

"It just might be connected to you holding secrets from us, Logain." Her tone was as cold as winter heart. "Don't you trust us enough to ..." Her eyes widened suddenly, her voice muffled so suddenly that she nearly choked on her own tongue. She glared at him suddenly, Halima's anger was cold and focus, the first time he felt anything cold from the woman who once belonged to the Forsakens. Halima's emotions were hot and strong, always, but this new cold anger startled him. Now he felt its imitation in Leanna, far less, but the feeling was quite the same. Leanna turned away, her hands gathering her skirts as she chased Halima through a doorframe made of rock, a doorframe that burning in red hot fire.

Logain didn't even try to follow either woman; instead, he began to walk the length of the room. He hated it. This dark place, lighten only by balls of fire made of saidin, not only this room, but also the entire Dragonmount. He hated what titles he now carried as well. And ... no, he could never hate neither one of his warders. He could hate the bond that bound the four of them together. And he did, with all his heart. Cats, those creature Halima named Valdar, fled from him as he walked near them, not a single one skimmed through the door, away, to find some of the freedom Logain had lost. Logain neither noticed nor cared.

"What is the different between forcing a Bond on a woman and raping her?" He asked no one in particular, he tried to kick a cat that stood in his way, one of the biggest there, mass of brown and black. The cat evaded the kick which stunning speed, its body becoming a blur before it rest still, ten feet away; Logain still hadn't recovered his balance after the kick.

He focused his eyes on that blasted cat, he wanted to draw saidin and truly blast the thing. But he couldn't, because of bloody Halima. "I hate it!" He told the cat, he had a feeling that the cat agreed with him. This cannot be true, Halima must've lied; cats would never be able to think. It was just a trick, like the way she put her thought in his mind. He truly wanted to know how the bloody woman did it, of course, as long as she didn't put that pretty neck of her on the hangman's block, he should care nothing for what she did. "If you're suppose to be so smart, kitty." He told the cat, did he have to wait for saidin to be cleansed to go mad? "Tell me, what is the difference between taking a warder and raping a woman?" He quivered with the urge to break something, to unleash that fury in him. He thought that Toviene said something about the Asha'man making a room for training the sword. Cursing, he went out to find the room.

The brown and black cat followed him. Logain knew he must have gone mad already, but he was sure that the thing mocked him!

"Where are you going?" Breathless Leanna asked when she finally caught up with Halima. The woman stood with her back turned to her, leaning against a wall in one of those Light's forsaken endless corridors. Leanna thought she might be crying, or laughing.

"Where can I go?" The woman growled, there were no tears in her voice, or laugher. "Where would I go if I could?" She turned suddenly and faced her, now the anger was clearly visible, a mask of fury controlled by the last fringes of iron hard will. The woman rarely showed that strong will of her, for some reason. "You do understand that whatever he hide, he hide from us!"

"I figured it out," Leanna replied.

"I could understand, I think, if he would have hidden few things about the Bond from me, being who and what I am." Halima continued; Leanna doubted if the woman even noticed her. "But he did not tell you whatever it is that he hides, didn't he?"

"No," That was why Leanna was so angry at Logain, the same reason as Halima was.

"What is there to hide? Nothing that I can see, and nothing about the weave itself, he gave me that easily enough, or did he thought that I wouldn't be able to figure out what he want to hide from the weave?"

"I don't know, but it had to be something else, not the weave or its affects, Halima. The way he is, he wouldn't have let you know anything about the weave than he can if it had anything to what he is hiding so well."

Halima growled an oath deep in her throat, somehow, she still maintain her temper under control, barely. "I hate this!" She whispered, "I don't think you could ever understand how much I hate this!"

"And him?"

Halima barked a laugh, or a sob, "Can I? He said so himself, back in the cabin in the mountains, he is in love with me, forced to love me, and I shall be force to love him. Isn’t it the worst rape possible?"

"I meant to ask you about it, why have you accused Logain in raping you? And why have you kissed him, for that matter?" Halima stared at her for a moment, then she slide down the wall until she sat on the cold stone floor. Her knees drawn to chest, hugging herself and rocking back and forth gently; she saw the cat seating nearby, the animal managed to look miserable, somehow.

"This language," Halima mumbled, "I sometimes still slip, it's so different from the one I've learned on childhood, and it's so easy to mistake. Especially with the tongue you're using. It's nearly impossible to translate anything from your tongue to mine."

Leanna began seeing it, "You say it was simply a mistake in translation? You accused a man in your rape because you didn't knew the words?"

"He did forced me to sleep in the same bed with him, despite knowing that I would have slept better had Semirhage shared the bed with me." A frown crossed that beautiful face, not diminishing their beauty at all. "I once saw what happened to one of Semirhage's lovers. She takes her queerness into bed as well. It is easy to get confuse when translating to this barbaric tongue of yours. There is no subtlety there, no sophistication!"

Leanna knew the Old Tongue's word for a rape; it could be an explanation. But did the woman truly mistakenly mistranslated; so far, Leanna noticed no other... slips with her. "Did he force that kiss on you as well?"

Halima Leaned her head over her knees, laughing softly, the sound made Leanna cringe. She had heard the same sound from warders that have lost their Aes Sedai. A sound empty of all emotions, empty of life as well. "Lews Therin asked Logain if he had impregnate me yet, and he named me, and you and Toviene as well Albar. And I don't know who I am anymore, Leanna." Those deep green eyes shined with unshed tears. "I'm not sure who and what I bloody am anymore. I don't know why I do this, or that. I have had an assassination attempt yesterday, the first of many to come. And above all this, I kiss that arrogant excuse for a man! And I don't know why I did it, Leanna. I simply don't know!" Suddenly Halima raised her head, staring right at her eyes, Leanna hide a shiver; the woman was only a step from falling into total, all consuming madness. "I do know, however, someone that might know."

Leanna feared to ask, but couldn't help it: "Who?"

Halima rose gracefully, a gateway already began to resolve, revealing nothing but an utter darkness, she rubbed her eyes, wiping the tears away, "Ayende, you stay here. Leanna, I'm going to find some answers I obviously can't find here. In my room, there are the first reports Lews Therin asked for, make some order out of them and hand them to him, will you? I understood that you’ve some skill in that. I will return in a few hours, no more than a day, if Logain inquire. If he comes after me, he is likely to cause my death and his, make that as clear to him as you can."

"Wait!" Leanna shouted, Halima was already passing through, "Where are you going?"

Halima stared at her as she passed through her gateway, "To the one person on the world that can tell me what is going on inside my head, Leanna. To the one person that I know that can do any help." She laughed bitterly, madly. "If there is any that can help the creature I'm. What do you think, Leanna, is it still possible for me to be saved?"

"No one is so far in the Shadow that they cannot be returned to the Light." Came the automatic replay.

"You're naive, Leanna, or a true fool, or both, if you believe this foolishness. And as for where I'm going, I'm going to meet Graendel."

---

 

Upon trying to understand the Dark One's actions, in the Age of Legends or before the Last Battle, one must remember that there were only two human beings that came close to understand the creature who named himself Shai’tan. Ishmael and Moridin, Lews Therin and Rand al'Thor, Four men that are two, those are the only who were ever able to truly understand the Dark One.

Shai’tan is a creature that counts time not in years or decades or centuries, not even in thousands of years. The Dark One count time by the passing of the ages, Ishmael, who call himself Moridin as well, came close to that, living over four thousands years, if one would include the time he lived before joining the Shadow and being trapped in the Seals in Shayol Ghul.

Lews Therin, as well, was capable to take that point of view both Ishmael and the Dark One adopted. The reason, however, is unknown, few know anything about the process in which Lews Therin was reborn again, according to prophecy three thousands years old, as Rand al'Thor. Those few would not let that piece of information slip, suffice to say that Lews Therin, as well as Ishmael, was able to recognize the pattern in the Dark One's actions. Both in the Age of Legends, and as Rand al'Thor, the Dark One's actions always carry two purposes. The first, the more obvious one, directed to help the Dark One to gain his freedom and achieve final victory in the battle carried between him and the Dragon since the very beginning of time. The second, often obscure and sometimes near impossible to detect, is to gain smaller victories, meant to help him in another age, another battle for freedom from his prison. Sometimes, it’s nearly impossible to detect and counter those actions in time. But those are the actions that carry most of the danger for the world.

Halima Albar
The Shadow and the Dark One
The Forth Age
The Black Tower.

It must have been an hour at least, Rand thought. An hour while they danced the forms of the sword with the clash of the swords serving as music for them. An hour ago, Lan found him, and offered they would train the swords together, as they did so many times in the past. He agreed quickly, a sword fight might be just the thing he needed to clear his mind, to focus his thought. To release the anger that burned like acid in his stomach. Anger at his Asha'man, his own creation, Anger at himself, he shouldn’t have trusted Taim. But there was no other choice; he simply couldn’t teach the Asha’man himself. But it didn’t matter. How many women lost everything they had because of the Guardians of Justice?

An hour of swordplay helped nothing to kill his anger; Rand knew that to most people, his and Lan's movements were a blur. Movements too quick for the eye to see; in that speed, it was the impossible to think about what would be in the next instance, all his mind was focus on the sword he held, on the sword Lan held, two swords that were almost identical. On his sword there was a heron, marking it as the sword of a blade master. On Lan's sword there was no sign. Yet it was Lan who was the true blade master between the two of them.

He refused to let himself sweat, but he could do nothing about the heavy breathing. The Parting of Silk met the Bull Charging, and he danced backward constantly, no blade met flesh yet, but they continue increasing their speed, and it became harder and harder to match Lan's speed. The older man also breath heavily. But other than that, he showed no sign of effort. Rand's side seemed to be on fire, he held to the Void, to saidin. But refuse to use it; there would be no cheating here.

Even with saidin, with the Void, he was too slow. Lan continued to attack, Rand sword met every attack, but he rarely managed an attack of his own, constantly defending. He remembered another fight, long ago, when he faced another man who knew the sword as well as he did and more.

Rorn M'doi, city and nation, just another battle ground, another battle that he lost in. Rorn M'doi, the battle where Sammael gain his name, the Destroyer of Hope. A day hope did seem to die in, he watched, stun, as Tel Jenin turned the soldiers he led into a trap that the man should have easily escaped from. He suspected nothing until he saw Tel Jenin's figure disappearing into that mass of black clad soldiers, the soldiers of the Shadow. Understood nothing until he saw Sammael using saidin against his own soldiers.

He long knew that he had a hot temper, although he controlled that with an iron leash. But he could help none of it now, that surge of fury overcame him, seeing another of those he called friend betraying everything they once believed for was too much.

He should have stayed in his position, directing the battle. That was the right thing to do, Lews Therin always did the right thing. But not now, he couldn’t, not when another of his friends became an enemy. "Tel Janin!" He screamed as he opened a gateway, an Aes Sedai needed no jo-cars to move. He opened a gateway, directly into where he last saw Tel Janin, directly into a ground that was crowded with creature made by Aginor, Shadowspawns, creatures who were create by darkness. Creatures that radiated wrongness through the pattern; he remembered not drawing his sword, but it was in his hands, a silver and gold lightning, he broke a Myradraal's sword and growled in satisfaction as he felt the sword hitting flesh, cutting the creature's head. He wove Fire, and the creature was burned to cinders in a heartbeat, Myradraals didn't die easily. He forced his way forward, dancing with blade and saidin both. A part of him was aware to the dying' screams and moans. To the feeling of a dead flesh under his boot as he jump forward, a woman faced him, clad in the black that enveloped her soul as well. His skin prickled, a dreadlord! A woman that was once Aes Sedai, but was seduced into the Shadow, there was no mercy in Lews Therin's heart as he severed her flows, severed her. Lightning quick blade put an end to the woman's agonized screams.

Nothing could stop him; he carved himself a trail of blood and fire into the Shadow's army, cutting himself a path with fury that controlled him. He would not let the Shadow have Tel Janin as well, as it had Barid Bel, and Mierin, and so many others. He will not let another of those Aes Sedai who stood so high in their strength to add their abilities to the aid of the Shadow.

"Lews Therin," A man faced him, not Tel Janin, "I've been waiting to meet you in battle for years now." He knew this man, but could not remember from where, the man held saidin, quite strongly, not enough to match him. Lews Therin did not even use his sword, Spirit to block the man’s weaving, and fire to kill. This time the man didn’t even had time to scream.

He continued pushing forward, and men and women and monsters died under his blade or in fire hotter than the sun. Pushed forward until he finally faced Tel Janin. His blade moved faster than the human's eye could see, Tel Janin's blade met his with a scream of metal against metal, twice as fast as his blow was. Only then he remembered, with a sickening feeling. Both that he was mortal, and that Tel Janin was the world's champion in swordplay.

Rand remembered that battle, at the end, he fled the battle, knowing he cannot win and survive. But before he ran away, he gave the man that would be Sammael a reason to remember him. Without really being aware of it, he began dancing the forms as he did in that old battle. As expected, Lan responded with movements as fast as his. In the pattern Sammael danced too, in Rorn M'doi, three thousands years ago and more. For a moment, Rand had a perfect opportunity, his sword switched hands, then it strike forward, as quick as a lightning bolt.

Lan met his sword easily, his eyes focused on the swords as the clashed against each other. Still, somehow, he threw his head backward suddenly, deflecting most of the power of the blow Rand landed on his jaw. With Sammael, he held then a dagger made of fire, and he scarred the man. With Lan, at best, it shocked the man for less than a heartbeat.

A heartbeat only, but it was still more than he needed.

The Wall Collapsing sent Lan's sword to the floor. Lan let his numbness last less than a heartbeat, but it was enough for Rand to win the battle. It was enough to ... Lan refused to acknowledge his defeat, apparently. With the speed of an attacking snake, his right foot landed directly on Rand's side, twice, on his left side.

Those half-healed, never-healed wounds broke open almost immediately, Rand felt blood fountain on his side, staining his shirt and coat quickly. He grunted; it felt as if he just had been stabbed anew. His sword clashed metallically as it hit the floor, his hand left it on its own.

He felt another thing as well, Lan's sword, an inch from his throat. Somehow, the man got his sword back, in the short time that it took him to shake the pain off.

"You're dead." There was no emotion in Lan's voice.

"Like every other time that I've trained with you," Rand managed to say, Light, but his side felt like it was on fire. He focused the Void, the pain wasn't his own, the pain belong to someone else, he can allow himself to feel it, but it mustn't be allowed to touch him.

"You are good, very good, now." From the warder, that meant much, very much. The sword was removed from his throat, "Yet remember that it's pride that can destroy even the best blademasters. You cannot let yourself be proud, it's the first lesson you should have learned, upon taking up a sword. You should, I think, be able to learn it."

"Thank you, I think." Rand panted weakly, breathing hard. He was Rand al'Thor, not Lews Therin, and burns those memories in his head; they were as much a curse as they were a blessing. He wasn't Lews Therin; he wouldn't let pride swallow him as it did to the Dragon. "Your sword, please, King of Malkier."

Lan froze, that wasn't a subject he talked about, ever. Slowly, the sword was given to him, "Why?" Cold blue eyes met blue gray eyes as cold. Rand was the first to divert his eyes. To Lan, the sword meant much, it was his father's sword, and before that, the sword belonged to his grandfather, a chain that went backward to the first man who claimed the golden crane's crown.

"Because you said to me once that your sword was made in the War of Power for a footman. A mere simple soldier." Rand shock his head; Lan was far more than a simple soldier, or a simple man, for that matter. "You're much more, you thought me much, al'Lan Mandergoren of the lost Malkieri. You deserve something more than a footman's sword."

"I've no wish for your sword, al'Thor." The man's voice was savage, he said often that the only legacy he had was a sword that could not break, and a war he could neither win nor leave.

"And I wouldn't have insult you by offering it," not that he could, Aviendha gave him the sword, and he would never give that gift of her to him. "But still you deserve more," saidin flowed in him, making emotion and pain distance. The room was completely bare, like many of the rooms he had create, a place that create to host as much or the human race that a single place could, a place he desperately hoped that would never be of use. If something would happen, this would be the Light's last resource. He wove Earth, the sword Lan had given him was cold in his grip, a perfectly balance sword. It meant for Lan more than anything in the world save Nynaeve, maybe. It meant much, that he surrendered the sword so easily to him. No words were necessary here; Lan and him knew what lied between them. He doubt if any woman could understand, though.

He wove Earth, and threads of gold were pulled from his belt knife's hilt. Elayne insisted that he would carry one so decorated that was hardly of any use, now he put it to a good use. Though maybe not what Elayne had in mind.

Threads of gold floated in the air, with Lan watching with cold eyes. He attached the gold to the sword's blade. A crane made of gold, the symbol of Malkier. Lan's lost country. The Golden Crane, like the heron on his sword.

"For the meantime, Lan," he said, still breathing hard, his side burning, "there is nothing more that I can do for you. It's not much, I fear. But it's all I can offer you at the moment."

"It's more than enough," for the first time since Rand had met his friend again; there was a glint of life in the warder's eyes. "It is... more than you should have, Rand al'Thor."

Rand handed him the sword back, a crane shining in golden light on the base of either side of the blade. "It's not enough by far, al'Lan Mandergoren." He said loudly, "And if I ever could, King of the Malkieri, I shall..."

"I need no bribe to remain your friend," Lan cut him off, "I thank you still, though. But Malkier had lost, not even you can save it."

"It's my place to thank you," Rand muttered darkly, "for the lesson you've just thought me, but still, you've my promise on this, and I shall see you swallow your words, with the greatest humility you can manage."

Lan laughed suddenly, a dark laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, "A trade fair enough, al'Thor. If you can manage the impossible."

"I often manage what I want, Lan." Rand answered truthfully, saidin flowing through him was a prove enough. "Impossible or not impossible." And there are always those little traps that catch the leg and might send you flailing about in the middle of the fight, those tiny holes in the most perfect plans. And in any victory there are also the seeds of failure.

Above all, he had to avoid the trap Lews Therin's pride led him too, he must not think himself invincible.

Even the car'a'carn is not a wetlander king, the thought amused him in a way, chilled his blood in another. He groaned as he bent to pick up his sword from the floor. The pain in his side doubling, he ignored it. "It seems," Lan said slowly, his eyes dark and lifeless, "that now I can truly call you a man."

He left before Rand could overcome his shock, leaving him with his mouth open and gaping. When he finally closed him mouth, Lan was long gone. But Rand smiled as he went out of the training room. His smiled wiped soon enough, as Aviendha appeared just around the first corner, with both Amys and Sorilea with her.

---

"We need to talk, Logain." Toviene said, she was worry, of him, mainly. She didn't think he had more than two hours sleep last night, and before that he remained awake for nearly three days. And he kept pushing himself, ignoring tiredness and the limitation of the body. She felt a... drawing from him; most probably he was leaning on her strength. But if he did, she barely felt it; he would almost not feel it at all. She used the Bond to track him down, he talked with three or four Asha'man when she founded him, but they were released quickly, and she had his full attention.

"What do you want from me now, Toviene?" He snapped, "I do hope that Leanna talked with you already, about Halima. So you know all you need to know."

"That is a subject for another time, Logain Albar." She told him frostily. "At the moment, you're a danger, to yourself and to others. I want you to go to bed, and sleep five or six hours at least."

Dark intense eyes focused on her, she nearly shivered. "Would you come with me?" He offered her a hand and half a bow, he was lucky thatshe didn't slapped him.

"Absolutely not!" She nearly laughed as his disappointed sigh.

"Oh, well." He grinned at her; he nearly managed to fool her to think that he wasn't exhausted. "You win some and you lose some. What did you want to talk with me about?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, "You want the full list? First, there are the maidens, who refuse to do anything. Second, there is the matter of food, we can't continue drawing on the emergency supplies for long. Even that would run out eventually. Third, I need help here; I never met such a bunch of fools in my life. Forth ..."

Logain put a hand on her mouth, silencing her, "The food wouldn't be a problem, Toviene. I've seen the so-called emergency supplies, they would suffice for the number of people we have here for few decades if not more. I don't know why you call your... assistants fools, but that is yours to decide. If you can't manage with them, replace them until you find the right combination." He fell silent for a moment, then added: "Maybe you should do it now, have you taste what they made?"

Toviene nodded, "With the little time I'd, there was nothing more I could do."

"I agree," Logain said. "You've done very well, considering what you'd. But... Toviene, I can help you little only here. The Light alone know how much I can help myself here." His eyes looked hopeless for a moment, then they became ice. "After I made you my warder, you screamed at me that I was taking all your dreams of power and a rise in station. Well, now I have given you more than you could have ever dreamed of, short of becoming the Amyrlin Seat, but I never said it would be easy." He closed his eyes for a moment, "It's never easy, for any of us, Toviene, but we have choice no more, now." He brushed a hand against her cheek and turned away, trotting away from her, "I'm sure, though, Toviene, that there is none that can take care of what need to be taken care of better than you."

Toviene stared after him until he was gone beyond a corner, somehow, without using the Bond once, he manipulated her so swiftly that she felt none of it! Shaking her head, but only half in anger, half in wonder, she went to her duties. Sora Grady called her, something wasn't going well in the kitchens.

Grumbling curses under her breath, Toviene went for the kitchens. No doubt it was another argument Between Aes Sedai, or between an Aes Sedai and an Asha'man. Sora handled Asha'man as if they were no more than the boys they seemed to be. Her tongue was as sharp as any sword. But she had too much respect for Aes Sedai to do the same with them. Instead, she called Toviene! Every single time!

Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Toveine did not even have to remind herself to do this anymore. Since Logain... made her his warder, she had done it so often that it had become automatic. Something she have done every other minute or so. The trouble was that it was barely helping her to keep a hold on her fast-vanishing patience. First it had been Logain, then Halima and her demand of cats, then Halima and Logain, and then....

She liked the task of running Dragonmount. Her skills lay here, in working out schedules, keeping records and tallies, completing the account and taking stock of supplies and necessities. She had always had a knack for organizing things, but now it was becoming something-of-a-chore. What she needed were servants. Servants who did what they were told and didn’t argue on every command she’d given them. Had the Asha’man had ajahs, large number of them could easily belong to the White Ajah. Most of them had a talent of finding perfectly logical explanations why they couldn’t help her.

Still, it had been all right when it was just the men who did the chores. Surprisingly, they did a sufficient job, those she managed to convince to help her. But this new influx of women, especially her own sisters, was making her grind her teeth down to the roots. She didn’t expect much from the Asha’man, and she wasn’t surprised. But she did expected more from her sisters; Aes Sedai should behave better than spoilt children.

She frowned so hard that the Soldier watching the enormous kettle of soup simmering over the huge fireplace hurriedly picked up a large pepper pot and began shaking it's contents vigorously into the soup. He had though his mother finicky, but this Toveine was proving herself much worse, he thought morosely as he watched the weaves set around the iron ladle that was stirring the soup. He could not see what was so wrong with a few eyes still left in a potato; it wouldn't kill anyone to eat it! And did you really have to wash carrots after you peeled them?

Not even noticing the extra seasoning being added to the soup, Toveine turned around and began stalking about the huge kitchens of Dragonmount. Or what would be the kitchens, for the meantime, she had had to use Asha'man instead of ovens and stoves and pots. That they did wear a sulked expression would only enrich the food, she decided. They deserved every bit of it!

At least twenty men and women were working feverishly to prepare the midday meal for the inhabitants of Dragonmount, a good number of the women with ageless faces, which was the reason why she was here in the first place. Ordinarily Sora Grady or a few other farmwomen would have been enough to oversee work, but now she had to be here as well. Toveine was not in a good mood. Sora had sent for her, requesting help urgently. It was worse than she expected. And even as she watched, Lemai and Jenare began arguing about who peeled and who washed! For the Love of the Light! Mistress Doweel would have had them scrubbing the floors on hands and knees for a week.

Remember, you're to do something with the Maidens by tomorrow. That thought nearly made her knees give way. Nearly. The Maidens were by far the most numerous of the women brought in, and they refused to do any work at all. When asked, all they would do was look at one blankly and state that they were no gai'shain.

"Well," Elayne had said to her after she had received twenty-seven almost identical replies, folding her arms beneath her breasts, "If they won't work, make their Bond-Holders to the work." The Aiel girl, Aviendha, laughed hard for that, Toviene haven't seen the girl laughing before, she found nothing funny in Elayne's words. Maybe she would take the Daughter-Heir —, the Queen of Andor's, advice. It still galled her, though, that she should have to take orders from the girl. Not exactly take orders, but Elayne Trakand had a way of looking at one that made it seem as if she wore her crown and stood on a pedestal while you groveled on the floor before her.

And all Logain had said to her when she tried to tell him of her troubles was nothing but a mocking sympathy: After I made you my warder, you screamed at me that I was taking all your dreams of power and a rise in station. Well, now I have given you more than you could have ever dreamed of, short of becoming the Amyrlin Seat, but I never said it would be easy. The nerve of the man! She knew it wouldn't be easy; it just didn't have to be so bloody hard!

Well, she couldn't be so harsh on him. He was working as hard as she was, and maybe even harder, as M'Hael and secondary ruler of Dragonmount and it's inhabitants. And she couldn't help but feel pride for him and his achievements, how he had grown from a gentled man that looked Death in the eye to this. And strangely enough, she no longer felt shame at feeling proud of him. Logic told her she should, but she couldn't.

Thoughts of Logain, of course, turned her in the end to thoughts of what had happened between Logain and Halima. She had heard, of course, Halima could not possibly expect Leanna not to tell her. Rape was a heavy issue, whether or not Halima had instigated the act. For the good of all three of them, it was essential that Logain learn that when a woman said "No", she meant no. Then it occurred to her. Had Halima said no? Would she say no, if the situation arose? Logain was... shock wasn't quite the word, stunned, that was it; he was stun to the bone. Then his temper flared, once, in the Blight, Toviene once saw a mountain throwing molten rock fifteen feet into the air, she was nearly a mile away from that mountain and still could see it all clearly. Logain's temper seemed to be as strong, or more. The way he storm the room to find Halima, she didn't think he even saw them as he brushed past them savagely. And then Leanna told her that she had misinterpreted what Halima said. Even though Leanna wasn’t sure if that mistake was accidental or purposely caused by Halima. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what would she do if she would be in a similar situation.

"Why are you blushing, Toveine?" Sora asked suddenly, nearly causing her to jump of her skin.

Looking hastily around, she mumbled something about it being warm what with all the Asha'man heating the food, and went to the large cauldron supervised by a young soldier. Taking a spoon, she turned her back on them both and sampled its contents, only to start sneezing with all her might.

With the last sneeze fading, she noticed the total silence in the room, no one moved or talked or argued. She stared around to find everyone all but frozen.

She quickly spotted the reason for the silence, three people stood in the opening to the kitchens ... she chose the place because it was close to the storeroom nearest to the populated area in the Dragonmount, but it fit perfectly, nearly as big as the White Tower's kitchens. One she recognize immediately, there was no mistaking the flaming hair of the tall man with the coldest set of eyes she had ever met, the Dragon Reborn guarded any in the room with a gaze the was as sharp as a sword blade. But if his eyes were cold and hard, his companions’ eyes were as hard, and twice as cold. Two women, one seemingly as old as the Wheel of Time itself, bonny and creased, and another with surprisingly young features to match nearly white waist long hair; They both wore the same cloths, white blouse and deep brown skirts, made of thin wool, as far as Toviene saw, more importantly, she was close enough to feel that they could both channel, Toviene doubted if the older one had the strength to do anything more than light a candle, if that, but the other one's strength best most Aes Sedai, and equal the strongest save Elayne, Nynaeve and Egwene.

Toviene glared at the three, she didn't care who they were, but they were at her kitchen, and they had no right to stop the work the way they did!

Then, Rand al'Thor collapsed against the lintel of the room ... there was no door to this room. At first she thought that the man was crying, something she half thought he wasn't capable to. Soon she understood how mistaken she was, the roar of laugher couldn't be mistaken. The man burst into laugher! After seeing her kitchens! She put her hands on her hips and glared at the man, "What do you find so funny in my kitchen, Rand al'Thor?" But the man only continued laughing.

---

Sweet Devon; her sweet Devon, the thought made her freeze. Since when had that adjective become attached to his name?

Was she to become some lovesick woman? No! No matter what the relationship, she had always been the one in control. Even with Riad; that young, vibrant boy who had made her laugh and feel the madness of youth again in her almost-motherly affection for him. The boy whose life had been tragically cut short by a blade forged in Takahndar. Tears were mandatory, but they didn't feel like atonement enough.

Just because he said the bond was that way did not mean it had to be that way, she reasoned. He barely knew more than her about the bond. Maybe, just maybe she could keep it platonic... ... light, please! Just as soon as she stopped thinking about him as sweet!

The spinning circle of colored balls wavered precariously, then collapsed into itself with a weak popping sound! Ildan started back: "Oh!"

"You were distracted, child. Concentration is very important at this early stage, for saidar slips through your fingers as though greased. True?"

"Yes, Aes Sedai." Ildan raised a long-fingered hand to wipe sweat from her brow. "It is hard. I keep wanting to take more, but the moment I do... it... pops."

"Control. Resist the urge." Like the way she was resisting the urge to plaster herself to his side the way Toveine was doing with Logain? Toveine! She could hardly believe it. Toveine whose temper had been worse in it's iciness than the most volatile Green's outbursts, whose tongue could have flayed steel from wood, and whose coldness had bordered on malice to some? It was still unbelievable! Even more unbelievable was the fact that she got on so well with Leanna. Samira had to stop herself from frowning as she built up the simple weaves again with Ildan. The girl had some strength, though she wasn't extraordinary.

Unfortunately, Ildan was still very weak, even though Samira though the girl three or four times as fast as she would learn in the tower. She could teach Ildan with half of her mind free to think. Which wasn’t good, she kept returning to Devon and the rebels.

She had bristled when she nearly bumped into Merana Ambrey that day, Merana Ambrey who walked free, wearing her shawl as brazenly as any back-street hussy wore her rags. Her fingers had itched to rip it off the woman. By right she should have been in Tar Valon awaiting judgment and possible stilling, not waiting around here with her chin held high and not even bonded! It helped nothing to see other Aes Sedai walk free while she was chained forever. Devon had not said anything about it to her.

They were there, the rebels, Kiruna, Bera, Meranan, Rafela, Alanna and a few others. So were Sarene, Beldeine, Edrian, Elza and Nesume from Tar Valon. No sign so far of Galina or Katerine. Both Reds. Both had disappeared from the White Tower with no explanation, together with the five she had seen, and some other. Had they... perished? Or had they decided to offer they liege to the Dragon Reborn?

The strangest thing was that they all avoided her, even those who were not rebels. They avoided all the bonded Aes Sedai. Once, she had seen Nesume and Rafela whispering together in a corner. Whispering! As if they were pillow friends sharing secrets after the sleeping hour.

Elza Penfell was another matter. She looked at the Tower sisters with something akin to contempt, when she was not rushing feverishly about doing something or other. Elza wasn't a rebel! Why the obvious aversion? Why were these women even here? They had helped cleanse saidin. The thought whispered itself into her mind. Elza told her that, with her voice full of all the scorn in the world. Then began lecturing her about the Dragon Reborn, sounding as if she was talking about the Light cloaked in flesh.

"Pop!" And the color balls faded again to nothing.

"I didn't slip," Ildan said, her brow creased in puzzlement.

"It was me, child. My thoughts were elsewhere."

The girl fixed black eyes on her shrewdly. She would make a fine Aes Sedai when her time came. "Would those thoughts be about Dedicated Devon, Aes Sedai?" That struck home. Was it about him? The man anchored himself in her mind, forcing everything else to orbit around him.

Samira released saidar, stifling an inner sigh the effects of which did not show on her clam face. "Why, Ildan? Are thoughts of Yaslan bothering you?"

"He is still sleeping," the girl said dismissively, taking the bait. "He emptied the better half of a tankard of ale last night after the talk the Lord Dragon had with the men, and he did no be in a good mood." She paused here, and flags of color rose in her cheeks.

"I do no mean to be forward, Samira Sedai, but I know no one else to talk to. They all do be strange and a little frightening, especially the Maidens, and I needed to tell someone... more in control...."

"Do I seem in control to you?" Samira was surprised. It didn't seem so to her.

Ildan looked at her shyly. "You do be Aes Sedai. You manage to walk past those other men in the corridors like you are used to it, and they be no more than footmen."

"Do I?" Samira smiled then. "What was it you needed to ask me?"

Ildan hesitated, pulling nervously at the dove-gray of her skirts, then finally said, "Do you share a bed? Devon and...." She went no further.

"Love of the ... no!"

"I just had to ask," Ildan went on in a rush. "Yaslan came in last night quite upset... I'd been taken to a room he said would be ours... He did say a lot of things I could not understand... you see, he did was more than a little drunk. Then he did try to kiss me. The way he was... it did frighten me, Aes Sedai, and I pushed him away. He looked at me like I had slapped him, then he looked at the bed, and left, coming back later with more ale. He slept on the floor." Something very close to gloating appeared in Ildan's eyes and was gone in a flash.

"Maybe Yaslan was feeling a little big for his boots, as boys do," Samira tried to soother her. "You chose rightly, child."

Ildan shook her dark head. "Many did not, Aes Sedai. I did overhear them at breakfast. Many..."she colored again, "gave in, the Maidens especially. I need to know, Samira Sedai, what do we do here? In the White Tower, Warders protect. We can no more protect them than a mouse can. I want to go to Tar Valon, Aes Sedai. One day I want to wear the shawl. I do not know what it is I do feel for Yaslan, but strong as it is, there are other things I want in my life. I have not told him that I do be able to Channel... In truth, I dare not. I do not want to know what the might do."

Samira could find no answer for that. "They did not plan this, Ildan. They're fumbling around in the dark as well as we do, like the foolish boys they are. And there are other ways to protect, save the protection of the body."

"How long do we stay here? If things continue like this, some of the us might begin to show," Ildan said darkly. "My mother does be a midwife, Aes Sedai. I know this."

For a moment she did not grasp the girl's meaning, then it hit her like a sack of bricks. Of course, a simple fact they had overlooked. Children. Something from before rose from memory. Verin's mad suggestion to the hall; she had liked listening to Verin, in the days before the Splitting of the Tower. The Whites had once raised the question of the dwindling numbers of girls born with the ability. According to the Browns, this was because the efforts to gentle every male found able to channel were culling the ability from humankind. Then Alviarin had suggested that women were to be found who were willing to bed gentled men. In reply to this, Verin had bluntly asked Alviarin where she was going to find a woman willing to come within a mile of such a man, much less bed him. And maybe give birth to a son that could, as his father, channel the tainted half of the True Source. In fact, the indomitable Brown sister had said, since the Aes Sedai had suggested that, perhaps the Aes Sedai should do the childbearing.

What if this fact had become plain not only to Aes Sedai, but to others as well? Children, a continuation of the line, there were few things more important than that to men and women alike. Was there a darker meaning to all this after all? She had not answered Ildan for some time, and finally the girl asked, "Why haven't you went to the Hall for breakfast, Aes Sedai? What do you do all day, save teaching me, I mean?"

"I didn't go to breakfast because my eyes are always red in the morning," she replied automatically, "And as for what I do all day, I play the fool."

Aviendha cowardly fled away as soon as the three women found him, muttering something about finding Elayne. He foolishly mentioned that Elayne was in Dragonmount to Aviendha, who slipped away a heartbeat later. Leaving him with Amys and Sorilea both! The only piece of good fortune he had was that she hadn't had to blackmail the two willful Wise Ones. He needed both Amys and Sorilea here, to help him mend some of the... more complex side affects the Cleansing of saidin had caused.

He was ready to accept two Wise Ones with tempers flaming, not willingly, but he was ready to use what he must have. Somehow, Aviendha made them come with no need to use the little obligation the Wise Ones still felt for the Da’shain's oaths their ancestors swore in the Age of Legends. Not that Aviendha had any idea about what were the deeper meanings in the message she carried for Amys and Sorilea. He was very cautious about it, Aviendha would have been worse that both Sorilea and Amys together, had she knew.

"I understand that your Asha'man had... attacked many of the Maidens, Rand al'Thor." Amys said coolly, "Aviendha refuse to go into any details, but from what she did say, it seems that your men are worthy of their blacks."

Rand sighed heavily, he should have expected it, Aviendha nearly chocked on her own tongue, giggling, explaining him what black meant to the Aiels and how they would react to the Asha’man. "It does seems so," He agree, if he could he would have them all... but he couldn't, and wishes and ifs helped nothing but to obscure one's sight. He began explaining what happened to the Asha'man due to the Cleansing, due to his failure choosing a man to teach the Asha’man. He cursed inwardly Aviendha, leaving that task to him. And cursed himself harder, for being a trusting fool.

"They deserve the blacks indeed," Sorilea muttered angrily when he finished finally, Amys was beyond speaking. "But, according to your words, there is nothing any can do to do any help." She didn't exactly imply he was lying, but she was close. Or had she meant exactly what she said, was he getting too suspicious? He suspected so, but he could let himself trust so few, Elayne was right, the past week couldn't have been called vacation by any means. What he wanted was to want to sleep for a year or ten, and maybe have Flinn or Nynaeve or any other to have a look at the wounds on his side. They ached constantly as it is, now, with the wounds on his side half open and bleeding, it burned.

"Not quite," He said curtly, and began walking again, refusing the urge to bend, to ease the pain a little. Only death could truly do that, and he had to live for a while longer. The thought brought a bitter grin to his lips, He no longer cared whatever he wished to live or die, only caring that he had to live a little more.

"Explain yourself," Sorilea demanded, folding her arms as she easily matched his pace, she would continue hours after he would collapse from exhaustion.

He did so, both Sorilea and Amys had immediately brought up objections, some he thought about already, most he hadn't. Still, neither had anything better to suggest that he was ready to accept. He was walking aimlessly, walking simply because his side hurt more standing, but he stopped suddenly at the smell of food, he forgot to eat, sometimes, but now his stomach was having none of that, he turned to the source of the smell, nearly stepping into Amys. She frowned at him, but didn't stop explaining him why his idea was wrong. She was right, of course, but neither her nor Sorilea knew of the other reasons that led him to that decision, it brought a taste of acid into his mouth, that decision, but he didn't have any other choice. Nor he could explain that to them. So many foul decisions he had to make. So many lies he had to voice. So many dead he had killed. So many suffering he caused. Too much already, and he knew it will only get worse. It was almost enough to make him leave everything, just run away. But the result of that would be worse than anything he could do.

"Enough is enough, Amys." He said finally, as coldly as he could manage, "I've my reasons for that decision, and I like it no better than you do, but it's the best course for now."

"Reasons of which you'll not share with us," Sorilea demanded.

"Would you tell me of your secrets, Sorilea?" He asked, his tone mild, soft. Had she been a man, he would have force what he needed to know from her, as it was, there was nothing he could do. "Would you tell me what you hide, you and the rest of the Wise Ones? What traps lie ahead of me that you refuse to tell me about, what potholes to fall into and break my neck that you wouldn't tell me about."

"That is different," Amys objected coldly, "We have our reasons. Good reasons. We tell you everything you need to know."

"As do I, Amys." He said curtly, and then laughed bitterly, the Light alone how good a reason they had, but he didn't lie to them, there was no better course he could take.

He reached into the large room, which was the source of the smell of food, and stopped, absolutely stunned. There were about two dozens men and women in the room, he recognize Sora Grady and Toviene and few others, most women had the ageless face that marked them as Aes Sedai, all the men were in black, Soldiers or Dedicated. Holding saidin, and... and...

His knees almost gave way, and he had to lean on the wall for support, Light! He thought, Oh, Light! He wasn't capable of any thought beyond that. Weaves of laugher he could not control shock through his body, his side throbbed hard with the shivers of laugher that went through him, but he couldn't care less.

He was aware of eyes being attracted to him, focusing on that strange vision, the Dragon Reborn laughing, and that made him laugh harder. There were tears of laugher in his eyes. And he kept himself up only by pure luck. That was the punch line of a joke over three thousands years old!

---

Graendel released the weave of the gateway with a grateful sigh. She was in her own territory now, not that it mattered much, with what happened with the world, but it help her feel a bit safer. Summoned in haste to Moridin for the second time, then being forced to wait for nearly three hours, only to be ordered to kill that Cyndane in sight and then being dismissed like a scullery maid had wipe all her patience. It was good to be in her territory. Then she stared around, and nothing remained of that dangerous relaxed feeling in her.

She chose to Travel into a small room that connected to the biggest hall in her palace, the hall where she kept her pets. The door to the hall was closed, but she could hear music being played, hard and loud music. Simple repeating tune, a battle march that died long ago, together with her entire age. To dance with the Dark One in the streets of Paran Desen, a song composed for the glory of Lews Therin's victory in Paran Desen. Lews Therin's song, she always thought about it.

For a moment, she considered fleeing, simply leaving Arad Doman forever; leave everything she had tried to establish here. She could do it, but she wouldn't. She stopped with her hand on the door's knob, analyzing the reasons for her reluctance to flee. Fleeing might be the most logical thing to do.

But she refused to do so, why? She wasn't ready to do anything before she would understand why. People who did not understand their own mind were dangerous, to themselves and to others. Letting herself being controlled by motives unknown even to her was foolish and dangerous and potentially deadly. Sammael was only the latest proof she had.

It was partly tiredness of being pushed ... pushed as Moridin and Shaidar Haran pushed her, what they wanted of her was fascinating, but she disliked being forced into things as much as she dislike living without comfort. And partly because she liked this place, it would be frustrating to move again, and maybe it was even because she something to leash her anger at. And, of course, even if it was Lews Therin in there, ... something she seriously doubted, the man wouldn't have make her pets play him a song for his glory, more likely, the fool would have tried to freed them from the compulation she set on them,a foolish thing to do, none but her could do such thing, but it would fit Lews Therin ... not even Lews Therin could kill her on the spot, not if she had time to hold on to the One Power, which she now embraced to her full capability, she would have time to flee. Even head to head, she was strong enough, with her angreal. She touched the necklace on her throat again, an automate motion, now, comforted by the touch of the golden ring hanging on the chain.

She opened the door, it opened without a sound, ... she wouldn't have it, noising hinges ... and stared into a hall clad in darkness, it was night in Arad Doman, but there should have been some lamps lighten. She channelled to light the hall, and stared around. A lone man stood, little more than handsome, playing with a small harp, the youngest brother of the king of Arad Doman. Save that, there was no sigh for her pets. She grimaced, where were they? Then her eyes focused on the only other figure in the room save her and the player. A woman in black man's cloths; seating in a cushioned chair, lounging back with one leg thrown over the left chair's arm. She was of average height, as far as Graendel could judge while the woman was seating, thin and dark skin and hair. Graendel estimated her age at early twenties. And she was so beautiful Graendel itched to have her for her own. She thought the woman was sleeping, the way she relaxed so in the chair, her eyes closed. No, she noticed after a moment, the woman wasn't sleeping, a foot in a black boot was twisting, if she was standing, she was tapping her foot to the sound of the music.

Graendel knew she barely made any noise, she didn't even entered the hall, simply opened the door, but the woman spoke suddenly, speaking in what people now called the Old Tongue without a shred of accent, "The Shadow came to Paran Desen, A dark, stormy day, a day of bloody rain." She had a perfect voice as well; she would fit if she were a tavern maid! Graendel met only a single woman that was as beautiful, as perfect. What a display she could, with Lanfear as the main participant? She hoped she could find out, with this woman, if not with the surely already dead Lanfear.

"Who are you?" The girl opened her eyes, emerald, Graendel thought. Both in color and in strength; those eyes held no warmth or emotion, strong and regal as Lanfear herself, twice as arrogant. That was Graendel’s first impression.

"You may name me Aran'gar." The girl replied, and Graendel blinked in amazement poorly covered, left-hand dagger? It seemed, that like Cyndane, the woman was another of Moridin's jokes. But that wasn't the reason for her surprise, the woman's voice wasn't as free of accent as she thought, it was distinct and hard to identified, but Graendel prided herself in being able to understand people, and the way they talked was an important tool in that direction. There wasn't a doubt in Graendel’s heart that the girl spoke in Delirad's accent, a city dead for three thousands years! Now she recognized terror in herself, what was happening to the world? New tools were added to the game with every breath she took, first there was that girl, Cyndane, who were stronger than her, then Shaidar Haran, and Moridin. None of those three spoke in the Old Tongue, she had no idea what accent they might have, but now she had to consider possibilities she would have think ridiculous three weeks ago.

A stasis box, perhaps? With some of the survivors of those who led the Shadow after the Chosen were sealed? It was possible, but distinctly. The problem was that there were no other possibilities! The girl was from her own age, but Graendel knew everyone high enough in the Shadow hierarchy in her time, it was possible that the girl rose to power after she herself was... gone, but Graendel doubted it.

"What are you doing here, Aran'gar?" Graendel asked; she hated this, it meant that she had to reveal her ignorance. She entered the room and channeled to pour herself a cup of wine, she would have rather tea, but there weren’t any of her pets around to be ordered, save the man who played. She wouldn't be reduced to ordering him, not while it was clear that somehow the woman controlled him, how? She wondered, no one could break through my weave! And it wasn't false pride that drove her to state that statement; unlike Demandred and Lews Therin she kept her pride checked. "This is my place, girl. You may know that by now, or should I teach you a lesson about invading other's territories? Answer, or leave, I don't care." The cup floated in her direction slowly, and she caught it, holding it gently, for the meantime, she thought she would might need the wine soon.

"You are a poor liar, Graendel." And with that ended her hope that the girl did not know who she was. Not that it was any real hope from the beginning. "You desperately want to know who I'm, and what I do here, and what happened to those creatures you made yours and, probably, whatever or not you can make me one of your pets." All that was delivered in a cold and serene tone, with the girl still being relaxed on the chair. It hit very close to the target, Graendel did not believed that she exposed so much, someone briefed the girl, and briefed her well. Moridin, most likely, the Naeb’lis was a mystery, a man who foolishly dared into the True Power, yet had a mind as sharp as any she had met. What they have created together was Lews Therin's worst nightmare.

"You still haven't answered me," Graendel said coolly.

"I've not came for Graendel," The girl said slowly, her eyes were fixed on her, sharp and hard and cold, "I came for Kamarile Maradim Nindar." The name she was born with made Graendel freeze completely for full fifteen heartbeats, "Call me in that name again, girl, and you're dead."

"No," The girl said, "I'll not be dead, you might try to kill me, but you'll regret it." Graendel was close enough to judge whatever or not the woman was being able to touch saidar, she didn't have a shred of ability in the power. Or, if she had woven a shield to hide her ability, she wasn't holding to saidar. But just in order to be on the safest side, Graendel shielded the woman.

She winced, the shielded hit something, something that wasn't there; something she could neither see nor feel. Something that couldn't have been there! The shield bounced back, it felt like a whip, her entire body shivered. Then the blow came, the woman hadn't move a muscle save her leg, still twisting to the sound of that cursed music, but something hit her, with all the speed of a charging bull.

When she was being able to think coherently again, she found herself twenty feet from where she was, there were involuntary tears in her eyes. The blow ...whatever it was, it was certainly not saidar ... was just below the

strength needed to break her ribs, it probably bruised her entire chest and stomach. All she wanted was to cuddle into a posture as small as possible and wait for the pain to fade. Somehow, she lost saidar, not surprising, considering that she'd probably been unconsciousness for few moments. She tried to reach for the female half of the One Power, not surprised the least upon finding herself shielded.

The True Power, it must have been the True Power, she felt none of saidar in the woman or in the shield. She wasn't aware that someone not being able to touch the One Power could use the True Power. Shadow consume her soul, after meeting Moridin, she should have expected that! Another fool who carelessly used the True Power! She also didn't even know that a shield that would work on saidar or saidin would shield the True Power as well. She noted that, it might come to a use on day or the other, that is, if she would survive the results of her actions.

"No, stay there," Aran'gar's voice commanded as she attempted to rise, at least the bloody music stopped. "I think I like to see you like that." Graendel froze as she was, and looked up, the only change in Aran'gar's position was that her foot was still. Then Graendel saw the rest of the hall; she must have been unconsciousness for far longer than she thought. Her pets were arranged in perfect rows around the walls of the hall, every last one of them. And there wasn't a single one not carrying a weapon, bows and arrows were the most common, but she saw swords and spears as well, Graendel’s heart cringed, their gazes were directed at the other woman, and all the love and admiration in the world shown there. It was simply impossible! She could accept a single man being turned somehow, despite the heavy Compulation she'd used, but not all, and certainly not with the short time the Aran'gar had! "You left a breach, Graendel." Aran'gar said sweetly, "All I'd to do was make them see me as you, and I'd their full loyalty, but then, your... habit would always leave you vulnerable, you waste too much energy on worthless shows and far less on what is really important!" That was so much like Sammael's way of thinking that Graendel’s gaped at her. Not that Sammael would have ever dared speak to her this way. She swore to herself to fix that... breach, as soon as she could, as well as skinning the woman's hide in strips, for a start.

"What do you want from me?" Just talking hurt her enough to make her want to scream, she mute that urge, as well as the pain, to the best in her current abilities. She hardly recognized her own voice, harsh and grim and cracked. It had been very long since she had made such a mistake, or been brought to a situation where she was half as vulnerable.

"I told you already, Graendel." Aran'gar sounded almost bored, "I want Kamarile Maradim Nindar."

"That woman died long ago, Aran'gar." She managed to say, "You should know that, at least."

"Then you'll have to revive her," Was all the answer she got, "Explain to me the difference between men and women."

Somehow, Graendel managed a laugh, "You should have learned that when you matured, girl. Or your mother should have thought you that!"

Aran'gar found it amusing as well, apparently, her mouth was twisted into a cold smile, at least. "You might say that my mother died before I'd any use of that information."

"Have you come to me because you want me to adopt you? I would do so gladly," Graendel promised, the idea of having such a woman as one of her toys was exciting, she was even ready to break her law about not having any toys that belonged to the Shadow, for that woman alone. She might invite Semirhage, if she would have half a chance, just to have... professional assistance.

The woman laughed to that as well, but the shield on her lessened not a bit, "To be rather exact, Graendel, I want to know what is the difference between the way a man and a woman thinks." Her voice was cold, despite the laugher.

"Why don't ask why the One Power exist?" Graendel inquired, ignoring the woman's glared as she rose to her feet, as long as the woman needed her knowledge about the way minds worked she wouldn't dare kill her. "I might be able to explain that more easily." She added as she searched for a chair close enough but found none, she would not humiliate herself by dragging a chair she couldn't lift without the One Power. A chair rose in the air and landed just before Aran'gar. She arranged her skirts carefully, smoothing the silk dress to the best she could, which wasn't much, but it helped her a little.

She refused to bend as she walked to the chair; the pain was shockingly strong. No one could truly remember pain, or else no woman would have been ready to bear more than one child, some claimed in her age. She thought she might prove it wrong, she doubt if she would forget the pain, ever, or the humiliation. She sat down gracefully, but, for some reason, there was no chair for her to find, as she realized to late. Half way to the floor, again, she realized what the woman had done, pulling the chair back just as she was about to seat, something a child did. Humiliating her, that was the purpose of that dirty trick, the pain in her front seemed to be double as she landed hard on the floor was nothing compare to the weaves of humiliation and anger that washed through her. "You first lesson, Graendel, never disobey me!" The girl's voice was still cool, almost emotionless, but Graendel read cold amusement in the woman's eyes. It was something that could amuse Semirhage only! "Now you may seat."

"I rather stand," Graendel said stiffly. Rising painfully to her legs, she tried to decide on the cruelest way to kill the woman, there wasn't a doubt about it; she would need Semirhage's help here.

The woman shrugged, "As you wish, I don't care, in this matter." The threat was so obvious that it made Graendel want to sneer. "Now, since you seem to be unable to answer my question, I'll have to be more specific..." Graendel listened in half disbelief and half shock, then she began answering, she forced her voice to be normal, forced her features to be still as she poured out anything the woman wanted to know. The woman asked the strangest questions, but Graendel answered to the best she could. She spoke until her throat was dry, and her knees trembled from her standing still, but she refuse to seat or move or ask something to drink. She learned much from the woman's questions, much, but not enough, there seemed to be no logic in the woman's questions. Moving from different types of obsessions to the manner in which one managed inner conflicts of half a dozens kinds.

"I believe that would be enough," Aran'gar said suddenly, three or four hours later, from what Graendel saw through one of the windows in the hall, it was nearly dawn. The woman stood, her motions smooth and graceful, she seemed to be unaffected by seating in nearly the same position for so long.

Graendel mouth became drier, her throat clenched, would she be killed? "Few words of advice for you, Graendel." The woman added, standing to face her. "First, some of the Chosens had betrayed us, the way Asmodean did." Graendel thought her eyes must be ready to fall to the floor, she couldn't control the reaction of her body, that was... unlikely for any of the Chosens to forsook the Shadow, unless forced to.

"Not of their own free will, though" Aran'gar added, "I assume you've heard about what the Aes Sedai named as a Bond, haven't you?" She didn't waited for Graendel to nod, "Lews Therin's men had developed something very similar, only that it involve instant and complete obedience from the woman that that weave was used against."

"Cyndane," Graendel muttered without thinking.

"What did you just say?" The woman's voice took a dangerous tone.

"Cyndane, it's a woman I saw only once, but Moridin summoned me few hours ago, only to order me to kill Cyndane if I encounter her. That is why I thought that it was her when you spoke about betrayal." Graendel explained hastily, by what the woman said, she meant to release her. She wasn't ready to do anything that might harm that chance.

"Interesting," The woman seemed to be thinking for a moment, "Cyndane is one of the betrayers indeed, but there is also a second one."

"Who?"

The woman ignored her question, "I'll be leaving now, Graendel. The shield should fade in about half an hour, though I think you might be able to tear it down if you try, hard." Her smiled sent chill into Graendel’s backbone, "I've heard that the White Tower fell into one of al'Thor's dearest friends, did you knew that," Graendel already did, but she answered nothing, the woman gave her no chance, "How... unfortunate to Mesaana, don't you agree, to lose the place she worked so hard to wriggled herself into after such a hard work." A gateway opened, to reveal a shoreline and blue gray sea with dark clouds over headed. "Oh, two more things, Graendel. The first, do not try to follow me, or hunt me down, or plan any kind of revenge at me, even with the slight chance you would succeed, I lie under our precious Naeb’lis' protection." It was be regretful, to delay the plans she had for the woman, but Graendel wasn't ready to risk directing Moridin's wrath at her. Nor the Dark One's wrath, the woman was favor by him, as well, for he granted her the ability to use the True Power. "The second,as I told you, your... habits makes you vulnerable, and it's only a waste of energy. Don't think of what I do as a punishment, think it more as a lesson." Her toys surrounded them, watchers in a play they could never understand, neither one of them had moved a muscle during the entire questioning, their eyes were directed at Aran'gar, full of love that wiped everything else from their mind. Her work, not Aran'gar's work, the woman stole her toys! As ridiculous the thought might be, it was the main reason why she hated the woman so much. They were a constant silent reminder that the woman overpowered her throughout the entire questioning. "As I said, Graendel, you should be able to rip apart the shield if you try hard enough." The smile on the woman’s lips was certainly amused as she passed through the gateway, "I suggest you to do your best. Kill her, don't use any weapon, just your hands. And, Graendel, if you let any man that can channel three feet from you, you might find yourself in the end of a leash stronger than any Mindtrap. The kind of leash Cyndane is now chained to." The smile widened, "I would suggest you to stay far from Demandred as well, by the way, he might decide that he wants your loyalty, and there is no better way to achieve that." The gateway closed behind Aran'gar, leaving Graendel in near panic, clawing for the source, with her toys striding forward in her direction, murder in their eyes.

---

Sora stared at the Dragon Reborn laughing, how much she hated the man. He was the reason why her husband went to the Black Tower, and learned to channel, and then been taken by the Dragon to be his guard. Only to disappear with another of the Dragon's friends, the Light alone knew where. All that was the Dragon Bloody Reborn's fault. The Light helps her, but she didn't even know what happened to Jur! She didn't even know whatever he had surrendered to that urge that made almost all the Asha'man take themselves warders! And the man dared laughing!

She tapped on Relad's shoulder, giving the graying soldier a start, "That he decided to pay a visit here does not means that the food will cook itself by its own, you know." She explained slowly. Relad nodded, but his eyes did not left the Dragon. Laughing ... more than a bit hysterically, Sora estimated ... so hard that he could hardly keep himself erect.

Toviene made a very good show of not being able to notice that deadly radiance that man clocked himself at, as much as any other Asha'man had learned to radiate. As her husband learned to radiate!

And still the Dragon's laugher didn’t seem to be dying.

Halima stepped through the gateway into her rooms in the Dragonmount on knees that could hardly hold her weight. Her path to this room from Graendel’s palace was untraceable, she moved through twenty seven gateways, often Skimming, sometimes Traveling for short distances, never more than half a mile, the limit you could travel without knowing the surrounding, she even passed through the world of dreams once. Nobody could find her; she left three false paths with every gateway she had woven toward a new destination. Still, her stomach was turning slowly, and she was covered, head to toe, with cold sweat. Soaking into her shirt and coat. Aran'gar surfaced easily the moment she entered Graendel’s palace, it was so easy to return to be one of the Chosens, so tempting. And as impossible for her as touching saidar; it was easy enough to find that hole in Graendel’s weaving, she found out about this breach three years after the War of Power began, that tidbit of information certainly proved to be useful! Of course, the woman wouldn’t make that mistake again, but the woman would’ve found out how she had converted her pets. And it was worth it all, just seeing the look of utter amazement and humiliation on that woman’s face.

Still, she had to force herself not to collapse on the floor and empty an already empty stomach. She emptied her stomach on the tenth gateway, giving away to the pure surges of terrors that nearly petrified in Graendel’s palace. She must have lost everything that she eaten the past few weeks. And now, when she gave the subject a little thought, she was hungry, very much so. Using so much of saidin drew on her body's strength, a man's body could handle that easily, as a man, she would have suffered nothing but slight tiredness from holding almost to her limit for nearly seven hours. A woman's body came very close to be starved, for a moment she wondered how a woman's body handled the amount of effort connected for holding as much of saidar for so long.

Maybe it explained why she saw no fat female Aes Sedai, there were some who were plump, or a bit more than that, but not any she would have named fat. At the moment, however, she had little interest in comparing the ways the One Power affected on each gender's body. She did note herself to ask Mierin about it. What she cared about was her stomach; it felt like nothing but a big hole. But first she had to wash; Light, but she reeked of fear.

After a quick wash, she took a net set of cloths, exactly identical to the one she wore before, with the oak burning on the left side of her breasts, it made her smile shortly, but the smile faded when she released saidin unwillingly and went out to search for something to eat.

Light, but she was ready to kill for a mere piece of bread!

"Anything you would like to share with the rest us?" Toviene asked, her tone icy and her eyes aflame, when his laughter subsided finally. He looked at her; his mouth ached almost as much as his side. Toviene wore a simple brown dress, made of wool, and stood at least a head and shoulders lower than him. Still, she stood in front of him with her hands on her hip. Holding a wooden ladle in her right hand. She seemed like she wanted to smack his head with that ladle.

"Amys," He ordered curtly, "do go to speak with the maidens. I want that mattered solved." He turned his head slightly, and was amazed to find Sorilea’s smiling. Her smile turned into a glare the moment she noticed he noted her smile. Amys looked at him for a moment, and then she nodded. Youthful face framed by a white hair.

"It will be as the Car’a’carn commanded." She said, and left. Rand watched her walking away with worry he hid carefully, well aware that Sorilea was watching him as closely as a hawk watching a mice. Only he was no mice, and didn’t intend to be. But when one of the Wise Ones obeyed without argument to what he asked them to do, it was a reason to be extremely worried.

"Is there a reason why you’ve Asha’man in what you seemed to turned into a kitchen?" He asked Toviene as Amys disappeared from his eyes behind a curl of the corridor.

Toviene arched an eyebrow, "How do you expect to feed all those people you’ve stuffed into this mountain of yours? People do need to eat, or have you forgotten this too?" Sorilea was smiling again, Rand noted, and this time she didn’t care that he would see.

"No, I’ve not forgotten that," Rand replied, his smiled coldly, and watch how Toviene face tightened. "It seem you’ve find a useful solution for this, Toviene. Even if the smell can get better."

Sorilea touched his arm, "I will leave you now, Rand al’Thor." The elderly Wise One said, "Don’t get into any trouble while I’m not here to help you out of it." Toviene laughed shortly, stopping at his glare at her.

For a moment Rand survey the kitchen, there were at least eight or nine men in black standing there, none of them met his faze. Most were red faces. "This," Rand said, looking at the kitchen crew, "could be a wonderful idea, if you could teach them not to burn the food." There was almost inaudible groan from every last man in the room. That was clearly wasn’t what they hoped to do. "However, I think that you should arrange a rota, Toviene. I don’t want a single Asha’man to miss the... joy he can find under your supervision, Toviene." The look on the woman’s face was one of utter amazement. "I’m sure there is much to be done in here, Toviene. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, all sort of stuff. And you mustn’t let me stand in you way."

"I... mustn’t?" The amazed Aes Sedai wondered, her eyes as wide as they could go.

"No, you mustn’t." Rand agreed his voice was cheerful; his eyes were cold. "And I’m sure there would be many who would love to help you arranging all that. And while they will do that, maybe they will learn something they should have learned before. Long before Caemlyn." With that, he wove air to snatch and fill a bowl with something that resembled stew, and left. Three corridors later, a Soldier passed near the Dragon Reborn, who walked and ate at the same time. The Soldier nearly fell over his own feet realizing who was facing. But Rand never noticed. He was too preoccupied with the stew. Light, Rand al’Thor thought as he forced himself to swallow, my shoes would probably taste better!

---

Graendel wiped blood from her mouth with an agonized groan, she broke the shield that cursed Aran'gar wove on her just in time, few of her former toys managed to reach her just before the shield broke. She had some loose teeth, and at least one broken rib, that is, not to mention the mass of bruises she was, from head to toe.

She took no notice of the bodies scattered through the room, more than one hundred and fifty men and women, the only thought she had in her mind about those toys she had to kill was a slight irritation when she had to jump over one of those bodies, a Lady that stood high once in the circles of power in Tarabon. Death took all her beauty, a fireball the size of a horse passed neared her, no hair remained on the body, and the skin was cracked and smoked. Graendel stopped after the jump and looked down, it would do no good for her to hold her anger inside. So she kicked the body, hard. And shouted every oath she knew, in this barbaric language people now talked or in the Old Tongue.

When she finally let lose of most of her anger, she painfully resumed her hold on the female half of the True Source, she was quite a sight, she knew, but she had to be healed, but Semirhage would probably take advantage on her situation. She opened a gateway for the White Tower, now she had to find an Aes Sedai that belonged to the Yellow Ajah as well as to the Black Ajah. Sadly, her would-be healer would have to be killed. Graendel hated to waste people she could use. But she could let no one live to tell the tale of how she was tricked and how low she had sank. She had eternity, and one day, she would make that Aran’gar pay.

---

Ilyena snarled as the door slammed shut behind Mierin, and she moved, swiftly, yanking a boot off her foot, she threw it at the closing door, waiting for the satisfying sounds of it's thump. Incredibly, it slowed just before it hit the door, stopping five feet from the wall, and dropped to the ground. Ilyena ground her teeth once before turning, ever so slowly, towards the Dedicated. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked icily.

"Stopping the boot from making a noise. I don't think you want her to know how upset you, any more than you already did, right? She would have heard that, I think." Ilyena scowled at him, annoyed. He had no right to be logical. "So what did she mean about Moridin?" Valir asked, curious. "Who is he? Or what is that?"

"A he. An old acquaintance of us both, I believe," Ilyena said, contemplating darkly the man that had been before her upon her awakening, contemplating even more darkly the silver haired woman who had just exited the room. Lanfear. Mierin. Damn her, that she was so smug. Oh, the woman hated Ilyena, her face and her voice had said that. But she was right, Light send her to the True Death! She had nothing, and her rival had a husband now! Imagine that, Ilyena wondered in the depth of her mind. Mierin had a husband. And she'd died, and come back, just as had Ilyena herself. Damn it all. She was lost. And that man, Moridin, had cast her to the seas with no way back. Moridin....

"You say he intends to use me, but I am not that easy to use, Lanfear," she hissed to the air.

"I doubt she hears you at the moment," Valir said, rather dryly. Ilyena turned, an annoyed expression upon her face and moved to snap at him, instead, she burst out laughing, shaking her head, and cupping her face in her hands. "What is it?" he asked, not quiet sure how to react.

Laugher died finally, and she stared at Valir seriously, it was time to hear the entire truth. "What is she doing here? I can hardly believe that she had suddenly decided that she will forsake the Shadow as she once forsook the Light."

Valir sighed; "No, she didn't. Narishma told me some of it, a reward for guarding her from him, you might call it. To start with, she ..."

"Stop!" She commanded, "What reward, and how did you guarded him from her, who she is, anyway, Lanfear?" She would have it from him if she would have to use saidar to make him stay and talk!

"That I took care of you saved Narishma from doing it himself, if he would have, Mierin would have ripped his heart out. As for the reward, I've no need money. I asked him to tell me Mierin's story. I'm very fond of stories, especially as... particular as Mierin's and Narishma's." He barked a short laugh suddenly. "I doubt any gleeman could make a story half as good as the truth."

Ilyena resume her seat, Leaned back in the chair, and commanded: "Tell me."

"As I said, Lanfear died, battling the Lord Dragon, although he wasn't the one to kill her." Ilyena didn't even bother to hide her smile. "The Dark One brought her back to life, somehow, I don't suppose that you know anything about it?" He rose an eyebrow at her direction and waited.

"You mean, of personal experience?" She asked, "I can remember nothing." Sounds that were no sounds, sharp pain were no pain exist, fire so cold it burned. Voices so high that they were inaudible, nothing that was everything. "As for what we knew in my age, all I can tell you that the Dark One is not called the Lord of Grave for nothing."

"Oh, well." He said disappointedly, "Anyway, she was brought back to life. And was given the name Cyndane," she goggled at him, but said nothing; she was too busy stifling giggles, Last Chance, that was what the name meant. And a last chance she well used, she thought grimly. "The Dark One seems to trust her no longer, and so he trapped her soul in a Mindtrap, it is ... do you know what it's?"

Ilyena nodded curtly, "She can not belong to the Light then! Whoever it's that hold her Mindtrap need to do nothing but break it and she it his again, forever and fully. There is no way to escape from - " She stopped suddenly, as much as she despite it, she and Mierin weren't that different from one another. Of course, she, unlike Mierin, never sought power. Wasn't ready to do what the woman did. Even for Lews Therin? Something in her mind asked, she pushed it away.

She could easily put herself in Mierin's place. Mierin had more pride than Lews Therin had! She was ready to serve the Shadow of her own free will, she won't do it because she have to, not for any price, not for any threat. That she insisted to keep her lost love to Lews Therin for so long proved how stubborn she was. As well as it proved how wise she was. In the matters of the heart, logic matters nothing, an old saying of her time that she had scorn long ago, until she met Lews Therin. "There is a way, isn't it? Now."

"There is," Valir nodded.

"How?" It was all but certain that Mierin would turn to Lews Therin at need, and if she was ready to give him her alliance, there was a slight chance that he would accept that. Mierin would have gambled on that, and on that Lews Therin might find a way to release her. The man had few blind points; Ilyena would have been the first to admit. It took her five years to make him admit that he loves her, for example. But he was a superb genius in an age where geniuses were common. There wasn't a doubt that he was the smartest man Ilyena ever known. Some claimed that it had to do with being so strong in the One Power, or the other way around. That was part of the reason why he and Ishmael acquired such hate for one another. They were mirror images of one another, as bright, as strong, and standing in the opposite side of the greatest war ever. "Never mind that, it's not important. I can ask Lews Therin later." Much later, few things accrued to her mind thinking about talking with Lews Therin. It began with skinning him and ended with spending several weeks in bed with him.

"It is important, Ilyena." Valir insisted, "Mierin came to the Lord Dragon, I understand that she was ready to offer him her... services, in exchange of her freedom. Mindtrap has something to do with trapping the soul, as far as I understand," her nod encourage him to continue. "Well, in order to free her, the Lord Dragon had to Bond her as his warder, but he already had three, so he couldn't have, unless he would have given up most of the weave, which he did, but not ..."

"Stop!" She ordered again, "Now began anew and explain me everything about the Bond, I read that there are Aes Sedai with five or six warders, what is a warder, for that matter. And what weave are you talking about."

Valir winced visibly, for no logical reason, "It might take some time, explaining it all." He muttered weakly, he rose from the chair he was seating at and began to pace the length of the room. Talking quickly, his hands moving as he talked. "There are two types of warders, so far, at least. The traditional one, between an Aes Sedai and a man, or me, and our Bond, between an Asha'man and a woman."

"Or women?" She asked sharply.

"Or women, though never more than three" he agreed with slight grimace. Then continued: "As I was saying, there is the Aes Sedai's Bond, of which I know all but nothing. And there is our Bond. When an Asha'man Bond a woman, a connection between his soul and hers is being created. This gave the Lord Dragon a way to snatch Mierin's soul from the Mindtrap she was trapped in."

"He stole her soul? What is the difference between this and her soul being trapped in a Mindtrap?" Valir stopped his pacing, looking everywhere but in her direction, and flushed deeply, and her mind returned back, he said something about having a warder being equal to having a spouse a while back. "You're joking! Tell me that you're joking with me!"

"Would it help if I say I'm joking? Would it make any difference?" Valir asked seriously.

Ilyena could do nothing but stare at him, her lips curling back in deep distaste. "A fitting name you gave this, Valir. A Bond, there is nothing to differ this to the chain of Bondage created by Mindtrap."

Valir froze, "For a start, the Bondholder is obliged to his warder's safety, totally. Second, eventually, the Bond force love on both sides. Third, there is ..." He cut off suddenly, looking guilty. There was a secret there, Ilyena sensed. "Suffice to say that I'm certain that Mierin wish for her freedom no longer."

"A cage made of gold is a cage still, Valir." Ilyena found that she was feeling pity over her ancient rival.

Valir sighed, "There is no way I could explain that to you, Ilyena. Not without you seeing the flows and understand what they do. If there is a cage there, it's place around the Asha'man, not the warder."

"I think that you might believe that you're telling the truth." She told him, "Bu that is not necessary what is true." She noted herself that she should speak with him more about this subject, later. "You said something about three warders and not being able to take more."

He shrugged, "It had to do with the complexity of the weave, as far as I understand, having no warder of my own. The weave needed to take a second warder is twice as complicated as the weave needed to take the first one, and the weave for a third warder is more than twice times more complex than the weave needed for a second warder still. With the forth, it goes beyond human capabilities."

"But not beyond Lews Therin?" Was Lews Therin human? She asked him this, very long ago, his replay came after a time so long she thought he didn't hear her. He told her he was sure of that no more.

"It was beyond him," Valir corrected her, "But to take a forth warder he had to discard most of the weave. Mierin was never the Lord Dragon's warder from the start."

"But she is Narishma's?"

Valir nodded, "We gambled, and Narishma lost, so he was the one that was sent to make sure the Lord Dragon wouldn't go to Shayol Ghul to get you from the Dark One." He blinked suddenly, as if just understanding what he said. "It would have been suicidal of him even to try, and he can't allow himself to die before the Last Battle."

"Then it would be right of him to die?" She asked angrily? "What are you ... "

"Call me barbarian one more time, Ilyena," Valir said pleasantly, "And I will gladly hand you to Mierin. Obviously, you didn't read the Prophecies of the Dragon. He had to die, for the world to survive."

She cared nothing for his threat, sensing it was false. He wasn't capable of carrying it out, neither by his strength nor his conscience would allow him to do such thing. "And he would go to Shayol Ghul still, knowing it's death for him either way, isn't it?" Valir stared at her, he made her feel as if she just pronounced that water were wet. In a way, she did. "Would you do the same, Valir?" She asked, did anyone in this age care anything whatever he was alive or dead. At least in her age, there was a chance for Lews Therin to survive his strike on Shayol Ghul. She wasn’t quick to suppress the part of her that suggested that it might have been better had he died in the Pit of Doom.

"I truly don't know," He whispered hoarsely. "If there was a chance to survive, I think I would've go. But knowing that the best I can hope for it victory and death..." He let his voice fade.

She doubted if she herself could do such thing, even for the world. To know that there was no hope for a future, that the best one can hope for was death. Her priorities changed, learning that. Now she intended to spend those weeks with Lews Therin in bed first, only then she will skin him.

Valir rose suddenly, seemingly frustrated of their topic of conversation. "Join me for breakfast," he suddenly said, more of a command than an offer.

"And you will tell me how you’re going to break me into life in the Dragonmount. If you're still determined to do so," she agreed, raising a single golden eyebrow in challenge, knowing that she would cooperate with the man for the moment, needing someone to steady herself after this encounter, but determined to not make it seem as though she were giving in.

Valir smiled and said, "Are we eating here, or in the cantina?"

Ilyena smiled in turn and opened a gate to Skim to the dining room.

"If I'm going to be broken in, we might as well jump in head first," was all she said, before waving him goodbye and closing the gateway behind her. Let him find her the hard way!

Valir made his own gateway, sending a rather bemused glance at the spot where the woman was gone from, a half grimace, half smile on his face. She was strange, yes, and acting uncharacteristically cooperative.

Uncharacteristically? He barely knew the woman, and the rather mercurial manner in which she's been acting could hardly give a full impression of character. He decided that he'd observe her more closely, and get to know her, rather than just stumbling along in her wake as he had been doing for the last small while. If he was going to be her 'tour guide,' as she put it,he might as well know whom he was guiding.

Thinking of the recent encounter with Mierin, Valir grimaced. That woman was as full of venom as a snake. Briefly, he wondered if she had found that Narishma had been in the same room as Ilyena, and smiled at the thought. Imagine, inspiring jealousy in someone because you were in the same room! Absolutely ridiculous, really, but people were strange in that way. And he had seen other Asha'man being jealous before, for reasons as silly. He doubt if such reaction could be caused without the affects of the Bond

She apparently didn't know his rooms well enough for Traveling, but he did. The gateway he created brought him to a vacant corridor near the cantina, Traveling into the cantina would have almost certainly cause someone’s death, of course. And he reached the cantina’s door just as her gateway began to resolve. Dangerously close to the cantina’s door. He smiled at her, nonetheless, knowing he won this round. He offered her a chair and took one of his own.

Ilyena seated herself stiffly across from him, tensed despite her previous smiling words. She was on the edge, he thought, seeing the swirling emotions in her eyes. He sighed, half regretful and half glad that he had followed his conscience, as he had put it. He wondered, though, just what he was getting himself involved in, by staying near this strange, angry, lost Aes Sedai from the Age of Legends. Not anything good, he suspected.

An angry boy that must have been new in the Black Tower laid out breakfast and some hot tea before them, Valir didn't recognize the Soldier. At least, it was supposed to be breakfast. The tea at least smelled drinkable, just barely. The food, however... abused eggs, with bread that was either stale or over baked. Along with it came few things he suspected to be vegetables. There were few others things he didn't recognized, maybe meat. He muttered few things about those foolish Aes Sedai who were trying to make Asha'man into chefs. It was easy to tell that a man made that so-called breakfast. A man who knew nothing about cooking, and wasn’t content in learning. The vague chatter of the cantina surrounded them and washed over them as they ate what could have been eaten. Strangely enough, he saw no one protesting about the food.

"Would you tell me about the Age of Legends, Ilyena Sedai?" Valir asked curiously. She eyed him for along moment, pleased that he had finally remembered to call her by her title.

"Just call me Ilyena," she said after a moment. She didn't seem to like it in the relaxed atmosphere in the cantina.

He smiled and nodded, "As you please."

"The Age of Legends," she mused. "You must understand that to us it wasn't really an Age at all, anymore than this current time is an Age to you. And we weren't a Legend to ourselves, of course. But it was very different. Diseases had been all but destroyed entirely. Peace had reigned for thousands of years, war was completely unheard of, save in the farthest annuls of history. It was a time of tranquility. Learning was the goal of all, though of course we had people who felt greed, as there is any age. The phrase, Aes Sedai mean Servants to All, and serving was what we did. As I have said, we worked with this people, not above them. The Hall of Servants, though, made the White Tower, from what I deduced, look as child's play. We already had complete control of the world, and so there was no need to distract ourselves by playing with thrones. Our intricate maneuverings were made ever more so for the fact that there were no wars, no violence. Our mind games were all encompassing. It became very tedious. Lews Therin hated it, but he could play it with the best of them.

"We were a nobility of sorts, Aes Sedai, I suppose. But that was rare, really. Our social system was different than this one, and even if we were more powerful than those in the Hall who could not touch the True Source, we were still a part of the world. And our technology! We could go to the very stars, walk on distant planets, and shift through the black of space. Our light was provided not by candles, or simple lamps, but by a means that could light the whole world by pressing a single switch or button. Our common transportation was automatic machines that could move us quickly across long distances. Aes Sedai rarely used them, of course, as we could Travel, but I do remember using them in leisurely drives. I remember going on a tour of a beautiful city in a jo-car, with my youngest daughter. She was so pretty. She had Lews Therin's dark eyes, and my hair, a skin a creamy darkness, somewhere between the both of us," she smiled absently in the midst of her remembrance. For a moment she could almost forget what she knew happened for Delnaria Therin Detrlan, slaughtered by her own father.

"You miss her," Valir said, and then cursed silently for stating the obvious, even as he marveled over the things she had told him. A world without war, it was unbelievable. A world where one could reach the very stars... Was there any limit to Traveling? What would any woman do, when a man offer her the moon, literally?

"I miss them all. My children and my friends, and my time," she whispered. "Do you have any idea how desolate this is, to be stranded outside one's own time? No way back, no way to return, to live in another Age. Even my husband, who lives here, is no longer my love. The only others that I know of in this Age are my enemies. Shadow souls that survived while the world we tried so hard to save destroyed," she said, half hiss, half sneer.

"I don't know how it would be, Ilyena," Valir said, "But as I said, I'd like to be your friend. I mean, I don't know why, except that I like you. Though I don't know the why of that, either," he mused. "I mean, you haven't exactly been altogether agreeable."

"No, I haven't," she said, "And I don't expect that I will be any time soon. But if you'd like to stick around, I shouldn't mind that much. Please pass the pepper," she added, "These eggs are getting cold." Valir sighed, rolled his eyes ever so slightly, and passed the pepper. As she said, this wasn't getting any easier.

"So," he began again, determined to keep the conversation going, not willing to let it lag off now, when she was just opening up. "How long have been around in this time?"

"Several days," she said, "Not a week."

"What?" he exclaimed in shock. "Only that short a time? But that's unbelievable! I mean, everyone must have spoken the old tongue in your time, and no one can learn a new language in a matter of short days!"

"No," she said, giving him a curious look, "I didn't have to. I just used Comprehension. You don't have that, either?" She was visibly incredulous that, seeing his face. "Even that simplicity had escaped modern times," She sighed gracefully, "True, the addition of understanding to the read word was slightly more complex, but anyone should be able to master the basic weave for the spoken word!"

"Comprehension?" he asked blankly.

"Yes," she said, nodding, "The basic weave of it gives control over the spoken word, and the words which you hear from others. By that manner, you can communicate with other languages. The next level gives control over words you read. Unfortunately," she grimaced, "No manner was ever deduced to master the written word, giving Aes Sedai the ability to write in the languages of others through the Power."

"But this is amazing!" he exclaimed, "How come no one ever thought of it now?"

"I was wondering the same thing," she mused.

"I really do hate the constraints of the Power, that no man may teach a woman, and no woman teach a man," he said, "That weave could be really useful. Not to mention interesting."

"I'm surprised that Lews Therin has not given spread it to your kind," she said, "It is nothing dangerous, no more so than any basic weave, and he knew it well, of course."

"Maybe he doesn't remember," Valir shrugged, not at all understanding how Rand al'Thor could remember anything from another life whilst he wore flesh, though apparently he could. Half the time the man seems to know everything that happened from the Age of Legend to this very day, the other half, he looked as if he knew no more than Valir himself did.

"I doubt it," she said, "If he remembers anything, he should remember that. It was one of the weaves taught first to all students, so that they may comprehend information from other cultures. There weren't many, of course, but in some places they still spoke other languages save the one you named the Old Tongue, as a tradition more than anything else, though." A small smile appeared on her lips suddenly, "It was very useful when someone was trying to talk to someone else in what they thought secrecy."

Valir narrowed his eyes, reluctantly considering the possibility that the Lord Dragon had been holding back techniques from the Asha'man. It could be understood in the cases of truly dangerous effects, such as the rumored weave called balefire, which sounded very dangerous indeed, but such a simple, and yet useful weave as this communication technique? Why? Ilyena, by her narrowed eyes, was apparently considering the same.

"I would give it to you, if I could," she said, "I dislike his behavior in this matter. I dislike him now, though I love him still. I think I disliked him for a while before the end. He had become different from the man I married," she frowned. "I can't be sure, though, whether I really did mind, or not. The memory is somewhat fuzzy."

Valir lifted an eyebrow, but shrugged at this revelation. Some memories were fuzzy for everyone. It was a strange thing to forget, but after being dead for an Age, maybe not so strange for her. Why did he hide such thing from the Asha'man? On the other hand, were they truly in need for such a weave? Valir never encountered a man or a woman that didn’t spoke Common.

She was smiling again, suddenly, giving a brief laugh, even as some Maiden of the Spear sniffed disdainfully at them in passing their table. Valir ignored the Aiels and said, "What's so funny?"

"Just that despite my resolve to maintain control and distance, I've involved myself in conversation. Everyone used to say that I loved to talk, and I never denied it, but it's just strange to have it run away on me, like this," she shook her head in rather cynical amusement.

"That's good, because I like talking too," Valir replied. He focused on a dark woman that stopped in the entrance the hall and a small smile appeared on his lips. "Did you know Balthamel?" He asked suddenly.

"What?" She blinked at him, "I did, too well. He was not the sort of man I would trust to pour me a cup of tea. He was rumored to add strange things to his drinks. And that was the least vile rumor I can think of concerning him, from before he turned to the Shadow." Valir filed it up. You never knew when you could use those tiny bits of information that people spilled every now and then. "Why are you asking?"

"Balthamel just entered the room,"he replied. Seeing her jump in reaction and scanning the entire room quickly, his arms itched. Green eyes met Blue ones for a moment, he saw. One pair of eyes that knew, another that would never guess; Ilyena glared at him as she resumed her seat. Ailar, still not a Dedicated, although in Valir's eyes he was ready for the Sword, gave Halima a tray, just barely avoiding spilling the tray's content on himself and her both. Halima sent him away gracefully, her smile widening.

"That wasn't funny!" She hissed.

"I wasn't joking; Balthamel is in this very room. Except," he smiled mischievously, "He died before, and the Dark One brought him back."

"I think you're gearing up for a punch line," she observed, lifting an eyebrow. But she didn’t seem amused.

"I think you're right. He is a she. Balthamel was brought back as a woman." He told her, she stare at him for a long time, eyes as wide as they would go and then Ilyena burst out laughing.

"I never thought I'd laugh over the Dark One," she said between chuckles, "But he really does seem to have a sense of humor!"

"What do you mean?" Valir asked, suddenly confused. There was little humor in Halima's situation. Unless you took into consideration Logain's position, which was funny.

"I mean that Balthamel was a notorious womanizer. And now he is a woman!" she laughed even more, saying that. He saw that green glare on his and clutched harder to saidin. Halima didn't draw the source; she didn't have too, with those sharp eyes that promised to find him later. He didn't think he would enjoy what she had in mind.

"A very beautiful woman," Valir added, "Her name's Halima. She is seating there," He pointed out Halima for her. The golden hair woman gave Halima a long look, her face serene. But then serenity broke, and Ilyena laughed more and more, and Valir noted that this time, there was none of the hysteria of previous times. This was nothing more or less than sheer, unbound mirth.

---

 

It was a well-furnished room, with brilliantly worked carpets on the marble floors and delicately carved and gilded furniture tastefully positioned here and there. But, strangely enough, there were no windows. Ample light came from the chandelier suspended from the domed ceiling, ablaze with wax candles.

Demandred supposed it would have to do. He did not have enough glow-bulbs to waste on a temporary abode. And he would never let any of the other the slightest help in finding where he had placed himself. Let them work for this tidbit of information.

The blue, white and gold porcelain clock on the table chimed, the silvery notes of its bells rising and fading into silence. A pretty enough toy, but it was hopelessly crude by his standards. The whole of this Age was crude; something was essentially flawed in this age. Even thought it was garishly painted in a vain attempt to hide those flaws. Well, this Moridin could have it! Demandred had forever to wait. And Moridin would fall sooner or later! Just like Lews Therin fell. Kinslayer, the title amused him to no end, he could think of no end that would hurt Lews Therin more. Still, it didn’t mean that he mustn’t... help Moridin in his fall. Demandred was ready to be second to none by the Great Lord. Especially not to a man so mad that he dared to use the True Power so carelessly.

The clocked chimed again, a sound very close to his laugher, the last time he laughed was when he stood on the closest thing to a grave Lews Therin had. The Dragonmount, he laughed then, indeed. He swore to himself never to laugh or smile ever again until his revenge with Lews Therin was done. The Great Lord took care of that; the only regret Demandred had was not being able to witness Lews Therin's madness.

He pulled himself of old thoughts about revenge; this was a new age he had to live in. A barbaric one, compare to his own, he would be the first to admit." But this new world he had been awakened to would fall to their hands so easily. Demandred led armies that were greater than the entire world's population, there wasn't the slightest chance of losing, this time. And Lews Therin was born again, and this time, it would be he, not the Great Lord, to finally give that hated man the final defeat.

The clock chimed one last time, and fell silent. It was time, and they were all punctual, as usual.

The Gateways opened, and his skin prickled, for all of those who arrived used saidar. A pretty state of things, he thought to himself. But the others, most notably Aginor and Ishmael and Balthamel and Sammael, had been very, very foolish in their actions. Asmodean was even a greater fool than anyone thought, and a careless fool, if foolishness by itself wasn't enough. Demandred was never a careless man, but neither was Rahvin, who died as well, which was the reason why this meeting was secret.

Graendel stepped out first. A beautiful woman, dressed in streith, the Great Lord only knew where she had managed to find that. Its color was now a pale misty blue, not that he could rely on that for anything. Pearls and sapphires cascaded down her ample bosom, and her golden hair was twisted high on her head with another rope of pink-tinted pearls. Sapphire-studded blue velvet slippers adorned her feet, but Demandred's eyebrows rose high, exposing more surprise than he would like, not for the sight of the woman, as pretty as she was, but for what was seen through the Gateway shut behind her. He was not the only one to notice this.

"What, no toys this time?"

The woman who uttered those words could not be more different than Graendel. Tall and severe in black velvet, Semirhage was not beautiful, but she moved with a grace that the golden-haired woman would never be able to equal. In her hands she held, as usual, an embroidery hoop and a bag containing silks and needles and cloth. For the life of him, Demandred could not fathom her passion ... no, with Semirhage nothing could be called a passion save her... taste for others' pain ... her liking for embroidery.

"I can change my habits if I want to, unlike some," Graendel returned with an easy smile, directing her glance to Semirhage's black clothing. Demandred had to hide a smile. Neat, very neat, even though Lanfear was gone and most probably dead, Semirhage still felt her presence, and her hatred.

"Are we arguing already?" Mesaana stepped out of her gateway with a swish of bronze silk skirts. The woman seemed to have developed a sudden liking for bronze, but it went well with her coloring. Not that Demandred was thinking of replacing Rahvin in that field. "I thought Demandred called us here for another reason." Graendel gaped as Mesaana with wide eyes, horror and amazement covering her face before she took control of herself. The streith remained utterly black for ten long heartbeats before Graendel noticed its coloring. The color snapped back to its original color instantly. But everyone noticed the lack of the perfect self-control Graendel showed. Noticed, and took notes.

"I did indeed," Demandred broke his silence at last. The way Mesaana looked, she might be thinking of striking at Graendel. "Please be seated."

Frowning slightly at him, Graendel took a seat. Her face was completely smooth, Semirhage settled on a silk padded recliner and Mesaana took a chair directly opposite him. Face blank; the three women stared at him. He almost grinned at their emotionless faces.

"Had any of you has met the man who call himself Moridin already?"

Graendel nodded, and so did Semirhage. Mesaana hesitated a moment, and copied the other two.

"Why do you ask us that?" Semirhage spoke, her voice as calm as her face. Her fingers toyed with the embroidery hoop. "Moridin is Naeb’lis, you shall see him and kneel before him sooner or later."

His hackles tried to rise, but he controlled it with little effort. "I was spared that honor. I was told of it in Shayol Ghul, and now the Great Lord knows that I can spare no time to pay homage to this... this man who calls himself Death, but I want to hear your news."

"And why should we share it with you?" Semirhage asked, opening the bag that hanged from her belt and threading a needle with a strand of emerald green silk. He watched as the string stretched out and pulled taut. Semirhage did not frighten him, but her compulsive, obsessive habits gave him the odd chill now and then. All women were strange and unfathomable, at least the women of his age, those of the present were transparent children, but Semirhage was perhaps the most convoluted and most twisted of them all. Still, obsessions could be manipulated, Demandred doubt if any but him looked being the horrors Semirhage caused to find the crack where a gentle shove might send the woman over the end. "What do we get in return?"

He smiled. He had been waiting for that opening.

"Aginor and Balthamel, Rahvin and Sammael, Lanfear and Ishmael and Bel'al. Seven of us had fallen so far, and Asmodean betrayed us. More, maybe?" He asked pleasantly, leaning against the polished table.

Graendel snorted. "More, indeed, Demandred, maybe more than you would've liked to think." Her eyes slide from him, to Mesaana, to Semirhage, but they rested on Mesaana longest. "More than one would think possible. Do not try to scare us with old news, Demandred. The men, al'Thor killed. Lanfear is probably dead as well, though we don't know how. Is this all you can give us? Or try to frighten us with stories about betrayal. If you called me to bore me with old stories about the failures of the rest who called themselves Chosens, I'm not interested." Her eyes became sharp suddenly, and he reminded himself again, Graendel was no air headed fool. "Unless, of course, you've something new to tell us. Had another one of us died, or betrayed?" She knew something, he was sure in that. But what was it?

"Strange, yet fitting that you should answer, Graendel, since al'Thor certainly killed your partner in scheming, Sammael, and for a while you were almost to have the honor of being the first woman that he would kill, weren't you?" The others turned their heads in surprise, and Graendel’s streith went dead black. He was pleased that his guesses of her fears had hit so near the mark.

"I doubt it," Graendel’s voice was harsh, "I very much doubt it, Demandred. Lews Therin seemed to develop a taste quite similar to my own. He seems to enjoy collecting ... " She stopped suddenly, her eyes were dark with what might be terror. Her streith remained dead black. Something happened to her, something that shocked her very much. Something that destroyed the self-control Demandred never seen breaking before, never to that extent, at least, Graendel wasn’t one to be shaken for nothing. It would be quite interesting to find out what was it.

Was she thinking of moving to al'Thor's side? Copying Asmodean’s actions, she was a fool, then. Asmodean was killed the moment al’Thor had no use of him. He pushed the question aside, to be considered later. And seemingly ignored Graendel’s interruption, "Then let me raise the question of Moghedien. You've all been to see Moridin, so I am sure you have seen our dear friend the Spider."

Semirhage's needle stopped in mid-stitch, and Mesaana's eyes narrowed. "How do you know all this, Demandred?"

"I have my ways and means, as we all do, but that is not the question here." He leaned forward, looking straight at her. "Would you want to enjoy the same as Moghedien? The Great Lord has given her to his new pet, what stops him from giving you to him as well? Would you want to spend an eternity as a serving woman? Why should the power be vested in only one, and what guarantees that that one shall hold the power forever?"

Mesaana did not flinch, but Graendel blanched. So, there was her weakness, one of them, at least. Yet he must tread with care. Graendel might seem foolish and weak, but she was not. Within that facade lay a brilliant mind, as sharp as any he had ever met, and she had been smart enough to evade the sticky strands of Sammael's torn web.

"You are suggesting that we work together against he Naeb’lis?" Semirhage never looked up from her stitching.

"I never said that, but I can offer you a backup plan, there is nothing wrong in being cautious," and he told them what he wanted them to hear. At the end of it, Graendel was brooding, and Mesaana was deep it thought. Semirhage cut her thread and stood.

"I shall think about it, Demandred. Every plan needs a backup, I agree to that. But to nothing more, yet." She vanished through a Gateway, and the prickling in his skin weakened, slightly. Graendel, too, stood to go, stepping through her Gateway a little too hastily, perhaps for added effect.

Mesaana was about to open a Gateway, when he touched her shoulder. She went still immediately. None of the Chosen were on friendly terms with each other; how could they be, when their aim was to eliminate the other candidates for the position of Naeb’lis by means fair or foul? If it had been Lanfear, he would be battling for his life right now.

"What is it?" Her voice betrayed no change of tone, but he knew she was tense.

"I want to talk to you, in private. Without the others here," he backed away a step or two out of politeness. It would not do to put her back up now.

She turned with a swish of bronze silk. "What have you got up your sleeve now, Demandred? You don't give up easily, do you?" She was probably filled to the brim with saidar now, he knew, but there was a gleam of interest in her eyes, and she knew he saw it. She meant it to be seen.

He let a frown spread slowly over his face. "Graendel has lost her conviction, power will never go to her now. She will sway which way the wind blows. Semirhage is too embroiled in petty details to see the whole picture. But you and I... we could hold the power together."

Her expression never changed. "I noticed Graendel's attitude. You truly believe she will go over for Lews Therin."

He smooth his features, "Who can tell? Graendel was never loyal to any but herself."

"It’s not a weakness, Demandred. Loyalty to anything but you is a dangerous thing. Loyalty to an idea or hate is a dangerous as well, Demandred. I would suggest you to let go of that hate of yours. It gives you nothing but weakness."

For a moment, he was ready to try to kill her, he doubt not he could, but the price wasn't one he was ready to pay, yet. "Strange of you to advice me how to strengthen myself."

"Such advices cost nothing," She replied, "More so, now, more than any other time in the past, we can't let ourselves to expose any weakness. Lews Therin had disappeared; none of my sources was able to track him down again. Rumor says he had gone mad, or died. A fool would believe it, and I'm no fool. Neither are you, I think. Until I see the corpse, I shall not believe him dead, Demandred. And even then, he died before, and returned."

" Do not overestimate Lews Therin" He filled his voice with as much scorn as he could, Lews Therin was nothing but a human being.

"Do you still dare underestimate him, Demandred? How many times the two of you battled in the War of Shadow? How many times it was you who won? And how many times it was Lews Therin that saved the world from us, from hopeless terms, to the final victory? Do you remember Paran Desen? And what about the Sealing? Do you remember it, remember the time we spend trapped, while an age passed us by, all that, with the Light on its knees, simply waiting for the final blow." Mesaana's voice took a lecturing tone, almost emotionless "In Paran Desen, the odds were two to one to our favor, and still we failed. At the end of the War, what were the odds? Five thousands to one, more, we’d over three quarters of the world under our domination, and more under our influence. And still we lost. All because of Lews Therin. Without him, we would have won! Don't let your hate blind you to the fact, Barid Bel Medar. Don't let yourself make that fatal mistake that Rahvin and Sammael and Ishmael and even Asmodean did. Don't let yourself be fooled because of the mask Lews Therin wears. He calls himself Rand al'Thor, but he is Lews Therin Telamon, and there are none but you who know Lews Therin's capabilities better. And there is none who should fear Lews Therin more than you should, Demandred! The rest of us might have a chance against Lews Therin. You won't have the slightest chance possible. Lews Therin topped you, in everything, always! And you dare underestimate him, you are blinded by hate, and that hate weakens us all! More so, it risk your own life, and by that, the rest of us. I've observed this Rand al’Thor; he's as dangerous as Lews Therin, more maybe, since it's natural for us to scorn those who were born in this age. I’d him once in my grip, helpless, and he escaped, as he did before time after time. Untrained, he killed Balthamel and Aginor and Ishmael and Bel’al and converted Asmodean to his side. He had Asmodean to train him, until he had killed him, do you want to face the Lord of the Morning, Barid Bel Medar? Sammael died facing him! Are you that much better than Sammael to be so sure you can face Lews Therin alone and win? You must not underestimate him! To do so mean dying! And your death may lead to ours!"

"I didn't ask you to stay because of Lews Therin, Mesaana." He hardly recognized his own voice, harsh and full of fury. How many times did Lews Therin best him? He killed the fury, as he did so many times before. Revenge shall come, soon. If his plan would work, as it must be, this age, Lews Therin was nothing but an ignorant sheepherder, strength without knowledge can help nothing to his rival, whatever Mesaana might say. Asmodean didn’t live long enough to teach al’Thor anything beyond the basics of controlling saidin. "I do not believe Lews Therin is dead any more than you do, in fact, I know him to live." Saidin was cleansed, and that could mean only one thing, Lews Therin. Making reality out of the impossible, again. It would have taken the Creator or the Great Lord to cleansed saidin, but it was Lews Therin who did it. Demandred would have bet his life on it. None of the females among the Chosen could know about it, of course, but he knew. Lews Therin lived, and he would have his revenge.

"How?" Mesaana demanded to know, "How do you know that he lives?"

"I said it before, I didn't ask you here to talk about Lews Therin."

"Then why have you asked me to stay while the others are gone?"

"While the others have been playing their own small games, you have managed to worm your way into the White Tower." He smiled at the slight widening of her eyes. He knew that she knew that he knew where she was. But he wasn’t supposed to reveal her that he knew. "You have worked yourself into an ingenious position, and indeed I would not be surprised if you had the foolish woman who calls herself the Amyrlin Seat dancing to your tune right now. The other one, not that unworthy excuse for an Aes Sedai those ignorant children had put as their master, the Dragon Reborn ignores your existence. In invisibility, you have accomplished much. And you hold one of his friends in your custody." He did not speak about the past, the White Tower exchanged hands, but Mesaana remained in her position still. Unsuspected, she still made the White Tower dance to her wishes. And that girl Amyralin was a close friend of al’Thor, and Lews Therin never abandoned a friend. Mesaana might well have found a lever which she could use to turn the man’s attention away from her.

"Then why try to share your power with me? Why not work for yourself?" Mesaana humored him with a wry smile. "You want something from my position, don't you? And perhaps you want to make sure that if this plan of yours fails, you will have someone standing on your side to face Moridin."

"Exactly," he said coldly, but he gritted his teeth. She was more alert than he had thought. "When Moridin says frog, the others will jump. I do not intend to be his frog."

"Neither do I, but I don't intend to be your frog either. We shall talk terms, Demandred."

She rounded the corner so swiftly that she nearly ran into three Maidens. She started back; they started back, hands automatically rising for veils that weren’t there. When they realized this, they scowled, and she was tempted to scowl back.

I have no time for this nonsense, she told herself, and glided on. Anyone watching would have thought that the serenely beautiful woman in pale blue linen had no troubles on her mind at all, but Runea was, in fact, tying herself into knots.

Jonan had taken another warder.

Not that she cared what he did, of course. It would be much better if the man had never been born at all. Of course, the bond forced any feeling she felt otherwise; how she hated that! In all the history of the White Tower, warders were taken against their will indeed, but never in the last five hundred years! Merely thinking about the matter made the blood sing in her ears, and she dearly wished that the ground she was tramping on some vital organs of him.

He had the nerve to kiss another woman.

And not only that, he had been marked by her as well, a brazen slash just under his cheekbone. Runea was, after all Saldean, and it did not do to belong to a man marked by another.

If she had a knife she would gladly mark him on that black heart of him.

Just for effect, of course. And to tell others not to drag her dignity in the dust, she rounded another curve in the endless rocky corridors and reached the door of the room at last. With a preemptory rap of her knuckles, she opened it.

It was a large room, hollowed out of rock as well, but with the benefit of large, paned windows that let in the sun. Strangely enough, the window-handles were wound about with a length of chain, and fastened securely so that no one could open them. Who could want to open them? Not even the most desperate thief would come within miles of this place, and besides, the windows opened into a cliff, hundreds of feet of a wall going strait up in the air.

Samira sat at the lone table that stood on a brightly colored rug of Kandori make. A fire burned in the hearth, and threw it's leaping light and shadows so that they rippled over the polished wood of the chestnut table and it's three attendant chairs, and over the wood of the large, mahogany bed that did not match any of the other furniture. All the furniture was mismatched, and she could only hazard a guess as to which lord's bedroom the bed had previously stood in. There was no sign for a man's presence in the room. Runea's eyebrows rose to that, considering Jonan's insisting that she would share his quarters, it didn't seem right for Devon to let go of Samira.

The Taraboner woman seemed to be brooding; she did not look up as Runea entered, but she gestured to a chair, never taking her eyes off the fire. A battered tea tray rose from an equally battered stand and floated over to rest on the table beside Samira's folded arms. Steam rose from the teapot's spout.

"I cannot stand it any longer." Runea seated herself in the chair, a dainty lady's spindle-back. "Today Toveine decided to give us all a lesson in cooking. I didn't know the wretched woman could even cook! I was up to my elbows in water that had been used for boiling greens, and if I ever have to peel another potato again..."

"Why did you not use saidar?" Samira calmly looked at the teapot, and it poured a stream of mint tea into the waiting cup. Two spoons of honey completed the mixture, and Runea took a grateful sip.

"I did not use saidar, because of Jonan," her mouth twisted around his name. "Because Jonan ordered me not to even think of touching the True Source without his permission." She had cut herself more times than she could count. Runea had been born a rich merchant's daughter. Even in the White Tower, the worst of her labors had been scrubbing floors. "I am tired of this place, I am tired of leaping to the tune of an Asha'man's pipe. And through your window I can see Tar Valon sparkling in the afternoon sun. It is so near..."

"Yet as far away as the moon." Samira looked at her fellow Green sharply. Runea might look calm on the outside, but she was too quick to stare, her look more challenging of late, and there was an air of neglect about her clothes and her unbound hair. The woman was even scrubbing at her skirt now.

"Tar Valon is near enough," Runea said.

Samira gazed at her, hearing something odd in her sister's voice. "What do you mean?"

"It is near enough for a lone man to reach in less than a day." Runea stirred her tea with the delicate little silver spoon. "Moran is as tired of this place as I am."

Slowly Samira turned from the fire. "Are you trying to tell me that you are trying to escape?"

The Saldean woman's laugh was brittle. "I could never leave this place. Jonan's orders are clear enough."

"But Moran received no such orders," Samira said slowly, beginning to understand.

"They don't guard him, you know. They assume that he will stay with me." Runea smiled thinly, like woman a hairsbreadth from cracking. "He has found a place where they keep few horses, and he was ever fond of riding. He might just take it into his head to take a morning ride one day."

"Runea! Are you mad?"

Her fellow Aes Sedai turned to her with such vehemence that her black hair swung. "Am I mad? No, I think not. This is madness, staying here within sight of safety and knowing and accepting that we are powerless, prisoners who cannot even get word to Elaida!" Runea rose, nearly spilling her tea, and began pacing in front of the fire. "Why do you think that they are amassing men and supplies here? How long do you think it will take them to settle down? What do you think they will do once they have settled down, sit here and be quiet? The White Tower is something they all hate, and the White Tower is within arm's reach. The Tower, Samira, the Tower! Are you so blinded that you cannot see what is happening? You know their strength; you know that we can no more fight them than a fly can fight the spider. The Tower must survive, and its survival is more important that my life or your life or even all our lives!"

"You are not thinking, Runea." Samira’s voice was like a whip crack. "You are letting anger and desperation cloud your judgment, and if these were ordinary times I would suggest that you be sent into voluntary retreat to recover your shattered nerves. Why would they want to destroy the Tower, when it is obvious that Tarmon Gai’don draws ever closer and that they will need all the help they can get? And even weak as we may seem, we still have something they don't have. According to Devon, no man in the Black Tower knows how to form a circle. They do know how to join a circle already formed by women. Maybe they are capable of linking without women, but they don't know how to link, not without us to help them. We can destroy them in battle. But I will not think like this!"

"Thirteen of us against one of them, Samira, those are the odds we need in order to win!" Runea voice was cold and harsh, "Not even with the White Tower whole we can stand against them. I don't know if you remember, but I've seen some of them training in the Black Tower, even without the power, they are as good most warders! Without saidin, anyone six feet from them is dead the moment they wish so. And with saidin... the Three Oaths limits us, Samira, and we shall lose for that alone. They have nothing to limit them, and they are trained to kill!"

"How can you even consider killing or being partially responsible for the death of your bond holder?" Samira asked, not shocked because of Runea's words, she already reached that conclusion, but there were others way to fight than sword play or the One Power, and the Asha'man, as good as they are in the battle field, still couldn't face an Aes Sedai's knowledge.

"I am not and will not be responsible for anything," Runea spat. "That arrogant..." For a moment her face threatened to crack with the force of her emotions, then it calmed again. "You are right in some ways, Samira, but I cannot deny Moran his chance. I know nothing of this, it is only conjecture, and so I am not betraying any trust. I am not leaving Dragonmount."

"Then sit down, Runea. Since you raised the subject, I have something to say to you." She told her what she had learnt. It took the better part of an hour. Before she finished, Runea Leaned over and was threw over.

---

The chamber was silent. Its walls were of smooth stone, and its floor black marble. Huge red stone pillars supported the domed roof, and carpets of black, red and gold spread over the seemingly endless floor in a display of richness and warmth. Braziers of incense hung from the walls, yet the air was chill and cold, and the emptiness seemed to stretch on into infinity.

Her knees ached as she knelt there on the floor like a groveling supplicant, but she ignored them. They were not important. Sweat beaded her neck under the high collar of her dress, and it made the stone where her forehead touched it slick, but she was not warm.

Clink, clink, clink, the sound of the man playing with the chain of a cour’souvra echoed lightly through the chamber, and Semirhage knew that in the shadows a woman dressed in black and red watched tensely, perhaps feeling the pressure of fingers on her very soul, on the edge and waiting for that moment when the crystal shattered and her life splintered into a thousand pieces.

The sound raised the hairs on the back of her neck, but she kept silent. In these long moments, she thought of the new pattern she was making. It was to be a small wall-hanging, brilliant colors on a spotless white background depicting two peacocks holding up a crystal basin of pure water against a backdrop of lush roses. She had always liked the neat, precise order that was involved, the tiny, intricate and controlled stitches, the unchanging pattern of the motions of sewing and threading a needle. So orderly, so clean somehow, it often helped her to clear her own thoughts, concentrate better. The way she liked her patients, as she liked to call them, stark and white and pristine.

"So, you come to tell me this, Semirhage." Moridin’s voice was almost lazy. "Why?"

Automatically she replied, "I live to serve the Great Lord, Naeb’lis, and serving him means serving and honoring you."

He chuckled, then. "You are a loyal servant, Semirhage, I am certain the Great Lord will be pleased with you."

That made her muscles want to tense, but she brushed the nagging doubt aside. He would not know, he would know what she told him only, and what she told him had been the essential truth. If the plan failed, she could still turn the other way. She did not want Moridin to be Naeb’lis forever, no, but neither did she want Demandred to be Naeb’lis, either. When the power would come into her hands, she should like to toy for a while with this Moridin. He promised to be very interesting, and she always enjoyed breaking strong people. It was exciting, seeing strength of will and stubbornness breaking apart that way, until no will but the urge to stop the pain remained.

"Very well," there was a shift of movement as Moridin Leaned forward in his chair, carved to resemble very much a throne of black wood. "I will keep this loyalty of yours in mind, Semirhage. I am not a foolish man, I see far, and I know loyalty should be rewarded and treachery punished."

Again a silence came, was he testing her?

"And then there is another matter. The one they call Lanfear." She barely stopped herself from hissing. That name, that hated woman, oh, what would she not have given to have Lanfear in her hands. "I do not think she is dead, Semirhage." There was movement in the shadows, but Semirhage paid the Spider no mind. She was unimportant, a slave now to Moridin as surely as she was to her own web. "I have always found the Daughter of the Night the most intriguing of all of you Chosens." Moridin managed to inject irony into the name. "And I do dislike not having a matched pair. I have one little task for you, Semirhage."

And as Semirhage listened, she smiled. For what Moridin carelessly exposed for her was both a way to gain revenge andpower. Moridin realized not that he was giving her a way to bring him down as well as cursed Lanfear.

Being careful, she might have Moridin and Lanfear both!

---

Halima stopped for a moment at the entrance to the room Toviene directed her to, where she could find something to eat. A small smile appeared on her lips at that moment, almost every man's eyes found her. It took her a long while to make Toviene leave her, why didn't people understood that she could take care of herself?

It was irritating, in a way, the way almost all the men in the room looked at her should have been irritating as well. But it wasn't. It still surprised her, after all those months. Once she was of those who stared. Of personal experience, she knew that some of them already planned how to have her for themselves. She wished she could draw saidin at this very moment; it would almost worth it, just for the look on their face. Yet she have seen few of them training on her way here, and from what both Toviene and Leanna had to say, she wouldn't have dare it in a thousand years.

Those Asha'man sound far too close to what the Hundred Companions were for her to be comfortable near them. Every last of the Hundred Companions was half mad to start with. And Halima didn't believe that they truly understood that the One Power could be used for anything but destruction. She would be dead on the spot, the Hundred Companions were known as destroying first, then asking questions. They took pride at this! Halima strongly supported that attitude, but not when she was the one to be destroyed.

A man with no pin on his collar passed by her, carrying few trays filled with something Halima assumed was breakfast. She desperately hoped it wasn't, though. He stopped to glance at her, of course. "I'm Logain's, so why don’t you keep your eyes, hands and thoughts for yourself." Halima said curtly, before she had a chance to rethink her words. She grimaced at herself, not believing her own words. The boy's reaction, however, went far beyond shock.

"Logain's?" He muttered, "You're his third?"

Halima patted his shoulder and smiled, "So I am. Now, why don't you find me something to eat, something that I would be capable of eating." She wasn't sure what affected him more, that smile of her or that she stated that she was Logain's. That is was the truth helped her not a bit. She felt like a bloody dog, to be owned in such a way. Her eyes were attracted to a woman jumping on her feet, about thirty feet from her, with hair that reached the woman's waist, like a molten gold cascade. A hair in the color of the sun, she knew of two women only that had that color in their hair this age. Elayne Tarkand and Ilyena Sunhair, the two women could be easily mistaken for sisters. Her eyes met Ilyena's for a moment, challenged the woman to recognize her, to say something. But, of course, Ilyena's eyes passed her by, never knowing, never guessing. Valir sat near Ilyena, Halima saw, looking amused.

The boy returned to her, in her examination of Ilyena, she didn't notice him leaving. He tried to hide something very close to fear, but it would be long before he could control his face well enough to hide the signs from her. She was given a private table and something that was worthy to be called decent breakfast, if just barely, the tray the boy held before was gone, she pitied the one who would have to eat it. More importantly, the boy did kept his eyes to himself, making sure his stares would be as discreet as possible. "What is you name?" She asked just as he was about to go, with a relieved expression.

"What? My name?" He looked at her for a moment without understanding. When she was a man, did she ever made that much of a fool over a pretty face? She sincerely hoped she didn't, she strongly suspected that she did. She even began to pity the young boy, not enough to help him, though, there was too much fun in it. "I'm Ailar, Neravin Ailar."

Halima found herself smiling at his foolishness; it was so unlike herself that she wanted to scream. She didn't, of course; instead she widened her smile, a too easy task, and continued her questioning. "Were you, too, among those affected by the Cleansing of saidin?" A muscle twisted on the boy's cheek, but he nodded, painfully, Halima thought. "How many had you... bonded in Caemlyn?"

"One." He whimpered after a moment in which he failed to wear an innocent expression. "A Maiden."

"Why?"

He stared at her, what have she done, asked whatever water were wet? "She kissed me, and I could have never stopped it. You can never understand, no one that can't hold saidin can understand." She muffled the desire to laugh at his face, "I don't think I was even aware of it before it was finish. I don't think that I had any coherent thought until I'd finished to bond Ayara."

"I... see," She muttered, "You can go now." He stiffened visibly, but did as commanded. She smiled to that too. Why was she so happy?

The smile faded as she tried to analyze her behavior. In Salidar, she had pretended to be the flirting woman she looked like. And it was almost like a game. But she gambled for the world, and her own life was on stake if she would have failed. Later, after Logain had taken her as his warder, there was no need to pretend, and she was too afraid of what Lews Therin might do to her to maintain her disguise anyway. But now it seemed that Aran’gar was the disguise and Halima was the one who moved the strings. Not the other way around. She raised her head from the food, her eyes searching automatically for Ilyena. Valir was pointing her out for Ilyena Sunhair, and for a long moment, Ilyena and she stared at each other eyes. Then Ilyena returned her stare to Valir, and burst into laugher.

It was only the knowing that she would probably die if she touched saidin here that saved Valir's life. She glared at him, as hard as she could. She already knew that her new face made it even harder. She nodded in satisfaction to herself when she saw him moving on his chair uncomfortably; the messaged had been understood. She returned her attention to her breakfast, ignoring Valir and Ilyena both. Valir she would take care of later. She very much disliked people that laughed at her. Ilyena was another matter, a mystery she would have like to solve.

She remembered the first puzzle she had, everyone got mad at her when they discovered that she cut the pieces so they would fit into each other. To this day, she didn't understand why. It worked, after all. Later, after passing to the Shadow ... something she could almost shed tears about, now ... she had been given other puzzles, much more fascinating. The pieces were often human in those puzzles, but even there, she often found herself being reduced to cutting the pieces together. And unlike her childhood, no one raise an eyebrow, questioning her methods, it worked, after all. And for the Dark One, that was all that mattered.

She was ready to give it a try, to solve the riddle that was named Ilyena Sunhair. She wondered idly if the bond had any affect on her in that matter, would she become frustrated in she wouldn't have her answer soon enough. And would the bond stop her, if she would try to cut the pieces so they would fit together?

Ilyena still giggled when she rose from her chair, worried Valir following her, of course. She fixed her eyes on the woman that was supposed to be a man. She glanced back after taking five steps, and the tray she almost didn't touch rose into the air and followed her. Valir glanced at the tray and stepped even closer to her. Other eyes followed her, many in suspicion, only several in amusement, one green set of eyes that bore into her very soul with deep fury. Few people could accept being laughed at. Strangely, most of the men that stared at her shifted their eyes to Valir, and then relaxed.

Valir was muttering curses in low voice, something about women and the Creator sleeping when he should have given women common sense, was all that she heard, even with saidar flowing in her, a river of life that she could never quite get used to.

The woman's table could easily fit seven diners, though only one set there. "What do you want, Ilyena?" The words were surprising savage, coming from such a gentle face, such a sweat voice. Ilyena could recalled few women that were as beautiful as the woman.

"Balthamel?" She asked, Balthamel was more than handsome, a man that had endless energies when it came to drinking or women. The idea that the man might have been trapped in that lovely body almost started another burst of laugher.

Something flashed in those green eyes, anger maybe, or fear. Both were extremely dangerous with Balthamel, he was known for not being able to control his temper, after he went to the Shadow, he never even bothered. Her... task in the War of Power cause more information to be available for her than it was to any but Lews Therin. And it wasn't that she was Lews Therin's wife that granted her access to all the information; it was more the other way around. The stories she had heard about Balthamel weren't the worst she had heard in the War of Power, but they were bad enough. Every man or woman or child in Yilalan Cherak was murdered in cold blood, all of them died because of Balthamel, by Balthamel. He refused to let others take any part in the slaughter. And the man did it simply because he was angry and could do it. Yilalan Cherak was a small town, no more than fifteen thousands people, but none of them survived. And it wasn't even the worst sin on the Forsaken's soul.

"You are Balthamel?" She put a smile on her face, as she seated herself opposing the woman. "I would have never guess, you've... changed since I saw you last."

The woman showed not a single emotion on her face, "It had been long since Paran Desen, Ilyena Sunhair. And much had changed from that time. I'm sure you would agree. After all, who would have thought that your perfect Lews Therin would kill all that he ever loved. Not something you would do to those you love, I suspect, but then again, I never understood love." The last word came as a growl. Ilyena flinched, the words were well aimed, and they hurt her more than any wound of the flesh would have.

"What are you doing here?" That was something that troubled her indeed, Lews Therin seemed to collect the Forsakens like one would collect pets.

"You haven't told her?" The question was directed to Valir, who took the chair farthest from both her and the other woman tiredly.

Valir managed a small smile, "About Logain, you mean, I haven't had the time. I would have reached it, if she would have let me finish a sentence more than once every hour."

"Then tell me," Ilyena commanded, "I can hardly believe that you would turn to Lews Therin, not for any reason. Nor I can see him let you survive. Unless you're here as a living joke, is that the reason you still alive?" The sounds of the people talking faded suddenly, the woman nodded gracefully at Valir.

"Smart move, boy, you wouldn't want others to hear that flapping tongue of her. As for what I'm doing here, Ilyena,it’s none of your business."

"Oh, but it's, Balthamel. You can answer me or you're dead."

The woman snorted, "The name is Halima now, Sunhair. And you are welcome to try killing me, Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. How would you like you heart, raw or roasted?" Valir tensed.

"So it was you who had killed Gelired Jerand Varloq." The woman was forced to eat her own heart, she never knew for sure who did it, though she always suspected Semirhage.

"Indeed," The woman agreed, she stabbed at her plate with a fork, and began eating. Ignoring her entirely.

"Valir, would you be kind enough to tell me her story, if you know it? Before I'll have to use saidar against her." Trying to talk with the woman would be useless, apparently she decided to ignore her existence.

"I wouldn't recommend that," He advice her, the woman ... Halima? Wasn't it how she named herself now ... didn't even bother to raise her eyes from her breakfast, satisfying herself with an arrogant snort.

Ilyena stared at him, "She is a bloody Forsaken, or he is, whatever you like to call this... thing! And you recommend me not to use the One Power against her?"

"You see," The woman said with something that could have pass for a smile on her lips, "I've told you it was a good idea to weave a shield against eavesdropping." Green eyes were turned to her, "He was right, if you're too blind to notice. Trying to attack me could be a long, painful lesson in humiliation."

"And I'm stuck at the middle," Valir sighed. "I can't let you attack her, Ilyena. Nor let her attack you. If I let any such thing to happen I will be skinned by Logain and the Lord Dragon both, and that is only if they would feel particularly nice at the moment."

The sound of teeth being grinded was clear, "If you ever say that again, Valir Nensen, I will be the one to skin you. Never let any decision of yours that has anything to do with me be affected by my... relationship with Logain."

"Considering that you weren't here if not for Logain, that would be a hard thing to do. You are his, you know." Valir replied immediately, smiling. Then rose his hands defensively, the woman's eyes burned, Ilyena was surprise that the other woman didn't attack Valir with her hands alone. It would fit Balthamel very well. "Fine, forget that I said anything."

"What do you mean, she weren't her if not for Logain?" Several possibilities crossed her mind, from the unbelievable to the impossible. She gaped at the dark woman suddenly, the woman's cheek reddened. "Tell me please that she hadn't fell in love with this Logain, whoever he is, and decided to join the Light." The woman chocked, coughing hard and spluttering half chewed food on the table. Her face became even redder, from fury, this time.

Valir got up from his chair and went to help the woman; Ilyena didn't understood why he bothered. She would have been very pleased to seat and watch the woman dying. She deserved nothing more. Balthamel waved him away, even though the woman that once was a man still chocked.

Red face woman glared at her, taking deep breaths. When she finally talked, her voice dripped of acid: "I did not came here because I have fallen in love with any man! Certainly not Logain!"

"Should I explain you a little about the Psychology of Denial?" Ilyena asked, her voice dripped of as much honey as Balthamel's voice dripped of poison, she had to return to the Old Tongue for a moment, she wanted Valir to understood what they were saying to each other. But there seemed to be no words in this new barbaric tongue for her to deliver the message exactly as she wanted it.

Valir seemed a trifle disappointed as he sat back. "I wouldn't say that you have fallen in love with any man indeed, Halima." He agreed, "I would say that you are."

"Falling in love with him? Logain? Are you mad?"

"Saidin is cleansed, Halima. Both you and I helped cleansing it." The man shivered slightly, Ilyena thought that she saw almost the same reaction in Balthamel as well.

"That wasn't what I meant!"

"Oh, then what have you meant. I'm quite certain that you would have demanded some explanation from Logain, that was the first thing he should have told you."

"He did!" The woman hissed, "And if you think that just because a man told me I'm about to fall in love with him I ... "

"You don't have a choice, nor he has!" Valir cut her off, "As strong will as you are, as stubborn as you might be, it will happen, it already happen, it is happening. Even as we talk, and you're nothing but a fool to deny it."

"I would suggest you would leave this subject, Valir." Balthamel suggested in a voice that managed to chimed softly even while it held the coldness of the winter heart in Chasamel.

Did Logain use Compellation on Balthamel, forcing her to love him? The man didn't sound like one she would have like to meet. Compellation wasn't something to be used lightly. Certainly not to make one fall in love with you, not even when that one was one of the Forsakens. "I would support that, she doesn't have the One Power anymore, but she still might try to leave you some scars with her fingernails."

Both Balthamel and Valir gaped at her. After a moment Balthamel began laughing, a laugher that seem to burst from the woman's very soul. Ilyena simply waited, pushing down impatience and anger. The woman couldn't channel, she knew it for a fact. She felt none of saidar from the green-eyes woman. But just to be certain, she wove air and spirit, an invisible knife to slice at any weave of saidar the woman might have woven and inverted to hide the ability to channel. There was nothing to be cut, the woman couldn't channel.

She waited with forced patience until the woman finished laughing. Staring at that wide grin, her confidence began to waver, despite the facts. "Believe what you wish, Ilyena." The woman said in a very amused tone, "Try anything, and I'll give you that lesson I promised you. A long lesson."

"I need to go for a moment," Valir said suddenly, his eyes full of both amusement and anger. "There are few things I need to take care of. Do try not to kill each other when I'm not here to watch." With that, he strode quickly away.

Balthamel muttered something about arrogance that almost made Ilyena smile. "What can you do, against me?" She wondered, "Not much, and nothing affective."

The woman wasn't intimidated by the threat. "As I said, you can try," Balthamel shrugged, she smiled suddenly. "I would like to have a chance to teach you that lesson. Until you do, eat whatever it is on your plate and let me finish my breakfast, I'm starving."

Ilyena snorted dismissively, the woman’s threats were false. There was nothing she could do without the power. But still, she couldn’t take any action against the woman without any provocation whatsoever. Whatever she was, she still belonged to the light.

A man stepped near, and smiled as he approached them, "May I?" He asked, but wait for no answer before he took Valir’s chair.

"You take a big risk, coming here that way, boy." Balthamel said. Ilyena stared at the man, it was the same who ordered Valir to stay near her, but now he had a bruise on his left cheek. A purple bruise shaped as an open hand. A woman's hand, by the size, and either extremely strong one, or one that had used saidar to hit the man.

"She traveled from here some time ago, Halima." The man grinned shortly, "I'll know when she will return."

"What happened to you?" Ilyena asked.

He touched his cheek and winced a little, "you can say I ran into something."

Balthamel chuckled shortly, then her grin disappeared, "What are you doing here? By now you should know to stay away from her," the woman nodded at her direction, "Mierin would tear you apart, limb from limb, if she see you with her. I assumed you've learned how strong she is now, Narishma. There is little you can do save fleeing if she decide that she want your hide."

"I noticed," The man said dryly, Ilyena couldn't help staring, goggling. That was Mierin's husband, she hardly believe that Mierin had found a husband, nor that she married this man. It was as big a shock as waking to another age. "I felt like a rabbit in the wolf's jaw."

Balthamel shrugged, "She is very strong, boy. But you've still to answer my question."

"I didn't come for Ilyena, Halima." He said slowly, Ilyena was ready to bet her very soul that he wove some sort of a shield. "I came for you."

"Oh?" Ilyena stare at the woman, she wiped clean every last scrap of food she was served; she didn't seem to notice it. "I'm certain that Mierin's jealously isn't focused on Ilyena alone, Narishma."

"You're Logain's," the man said, and then sighed heavily, "and the Light alone know how he can handle three at the same time. And there is one thing you might have not being aware of, Halima. If I so much as think of you that way, Logain... wouldn't like it."

Halima sighed, "What are you hiding, Jahar Narishma? What do you want?"

"At the moment, your help, I beg your pardon, Ilyena," He turned his head, speaking to her for the first time. "But I fear I've to take your companion away."

"She is not my companion in any way, boy." Ilyena answered frostily, but she was talking to the man's back already. Balthamel raise and followed him with a distinctly amused expression on that dark face. She was left all for herself, staring down at the table, Ilyena understood suddenly that Balthamel somehow eaten most of her food as well as his or her, or whatever

"Is something wrong, Ilyena?" Valir popped out of the crowd, holding something in his hand that smelled like a burned meat in his hand and speaking while he chew the meat. "I think they waited until the poor thing die of old age before they roasted it," He said when he notice her glare at him. "You want some?"

"Light of heaven!" Ilyena sighed, fighting back laughter or tears, she rose to her feet and trotted out of the place, a place that was full of mad men and women! Valir caught up with her easily.

"Where are you going?" He asked, and muttered an oath as he tried to bite more of the chicken’s leg he held.

"Where do you think?" She growled at him, all but shouting. "To Lews Therin!"

"Well," Halima asked when they were out of anyone's hearing. "What do you truly want of me?"

"Logain couldn't ask it from you, all he can do at the moment is stay away and try hard not to interfere," Narishma began, "I think he's more than a little afraid of you at the moment."

"Enough with the games, Narishma." She cut him off, "Make yourself simple, what do you want from me?"

"Your knowledge," He said, "You can't hide that you can hold saidin, sooner or later someone is due to find out, and that can be fatal for you. So I'm going to introduce you to the Asha'man, you're about to teach them everything you can."

She laughed, "How are you going to explain them how I'm holding saidin?"

"I'm not," He replied, "let them guess for whatever they want, even if they would guess the truth, they will have no proof, and there would be dozens of other rumors, as unbelievable."

She considered that for a moment, "It might work, but I'm not about to do that."

"Oh? Why?"

"I've orders from the Lord Dragon," She explained distastefully, "I'm to build him an eyes-and-ears network. I can't teach the Asha'man and build my network at the same time."

"How much?" Narishma sighed, "What it would take to convince you to help me, Halima? Especially when we both knows that you already has your network, according to Mierin, that would be the first thing you would do, it's as natural for you as breathing."

"It's never good to be predictable," Halima muttered.

"If you say so, Halima." Narishma agreed softly, bells chiming softly as he walked by her side.

"I'll do it, Narishma." Halima said suddenly, it wasn't like her to delay a decision. "I'll teach your Asha'man."

"There are Logain's and al'Thor's Asha'man, not mine, Halima." He corrected her, "And what would you demand?"

"It seems to be that I have became predictable, Narishma. If Mierin can tell you that much about me."

Narishma made a sound that was half cough and half laugher; "I don't need Mierin for this, Halima. I've met merchants before, you know."

"Merchants?" She was aware that her voice was rising rapidly, but she could hardly care, "A merchant, that is how you think about me?"

"You've the look of Arafel, Halima. And I would've to be a true fool not to know the ways of one from my own country." He said grimly.

"I'm not from Arafel ...Oh, I see." She was aware that the body she had now dictated much of what she was. She wasn't aware that her body language changed too.

Narishma seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he spoke, his voice full of barely controlled rage. "Do you know anything about her? What was her name? What was she like? Her dreams? What she wanted from life?"

"I've dreams sometimes, strange dreams, maybe there are just dreams, or maybe they are because I'm a woman now, but it might be because something of her remained in her body just as well." She answered slowly; it wasn't something she liked to think about. Her name was Dilen, Semond Dilen, born in a small village near the blight in Arafel. Halima knew Dilen like no one could know another. Of all those who died from her hands or because of her, it was Dilen Semond that she grieved the most. What she told Narishma was only partly true.

"How can you live with it, Halima? How can ... " He cut off instantly when he heard the loud hissing sound coming from her.

For a time, they walked in silence. "It's not like that, Narishma. It's not like that at all. Before... before Logain, I don't think I even cared about those who got in my way. And even now, I look back and it's very much like I remember another's life. It's more like the life I made up for Halima are more real than anything Aran'gar or Balthamel ever did." She touched an acorn on her pocket, it helped her remember what was real and what wasn't. "It wouldn't matter soon enough, Jahar Narishma. The clock is ticking, and the sand is running out of me, I'll be dead soon, Mierin as well, probably. The Dark One can't let us live. There had been one attempt on my life already, there will be more, and one of them is bound to succeed."

She could nearly feel Narishma freezing near her, "The truth hurts, Narishma? Try to see it from where I'm standing, I've died before, I've no wish to die again. Yet there is no doubt I'll, and soon."

"And still you spend your time sulking and pouting and wasting time you claim you don't have." Narishma said quietly, and continued before she had time to do anything beyond gasp in stunned insult. "I've gathered ten Asha'man, they will learn from you, then each of them would teach ten of his own. That is the best way, I believe. Whatever you teach to those Asha'man will pass to anyone in the Black Tower in matter of days."

"I don't think I can think of any faster way, either." Halima said with what could have just barely passed for a smile, "and after all, it's speed that is the most important, isn't it? I won't be here long, so you might as well learn as much as you can just as long as I'm alive."

"Exactly," Narishma said curtly, taking her aback, she wasn't use to that grim tone of him. Somehow, the bells that chimed with his every move stopped chiming.

"I trust that the least you did was to make sure my... students are fast learners." She asked acidly.

"Up until a week ago, there wasn't a man in the Black Tower that wasn't at risk of going mad any given moment, Halima. Still, none of us complained about it. You died already, now you live again. Learn to enjoy it as long as it last. Or else waste whatever time had left to you. It's up to you, but I see no point stewing over the past."

She snorted, "Where did you picked that one up, boy? Mierin always liked righteous men, Narishma, but I wouldn't push it if I were you."

"Were you?" He asked; his voice held nothing but innocence curiosity.

It took her several moments to understand what he meant, and then she didn't know whatever she should laugh at his face or simply ignore the question. She blushed; nonetheless, blushing wasn't something that happened to Aran'gar, or Balthamel. Halima was the one who suffered them. "Light, boy!" She said finally, "I wouldn't have gotten myself into Lanfear's bed in a thousand years, men who did it tend to leave broken hearted." She muttered a silent oath as she saw confusion added to the grimace on his face, "Literally broken hearted, Narishma. She killed them; the White Widow, she was called sometimes. She took pride in that."

"Somehow, it make me feel better," murmured Narishma, she wasn't sure she was supposed to hear this. Then he shock himself and took a sharp turn left, to a door that was nearly invisible unless you search for it, made of rock, of course. Halima began to grow tired of the place. Couldn't Lews Therin have found something else to make this place from? A nice Lava lake could be a bless change.

She followed Narishma into the room; it wasn't a large one, as things went here. Twenty feet wide and fifteen across; devoid of all furniture, ten men stood in two or three groups, talking softly. As she watch, a short men who seemed to be a Tearian laughed at something his companion, a man nearly a foot taller than the Tearian was, said. The tall man had his hair braided in a Sheinar fashion.

"Well, they would suffice, I think." She said after a minute, Narishma turned back to look at her, his eyebrows rose. "Narishma, I'd toy soldiers more formidable than this bunch when I was six years old." She complained, making sure every man in the room heard her.

"And we all know just how long ago it was," The tall man flashed her a toothy smile; the eyes were what made him special, Halima decided. They seemed to be able to penetrate her skull.

"Who is she, Narishma?" A medium build man with dark hair and skin asked; he had only the sword on his collar. His right cheek had a fresh scar on it. An inch higher, and he would have lost an eye. "And what did you gathered us here, I'd better things to do... "

Halima formed k'doi, the oneness, where body and emotions were distance and saidin was near, after so long of channeling the One Power, it required no thought, as natural to her as breathing. Saidin flowed into her, a river of life, molten rock that froze anything in its path. Her hearing became sharper, smells became stronger, and the touch of her breach and shirt against her skin was no longer unfelt. She could see the pores in the scarred man's face. Saidin flowed into her, it tried to destroy her even as she forced it to her will. She was no longer aware of the fight with saidin. That battle took place beneath the levels of her awareness. But she felt the life that flowed into her. Living without saidin was to live in a world of no colors, a world of shadows. Living without saidin wasn't living.

"I'll your tutor, boy." She replied, "Of the rest of you as well ... "

"I don't think they can hear you, Halima." Narishma said, he had an odd look on his face. The others, they just gaped at her, eyes wide, mouth wide open. Narishma channeled Air; ten jaws snapped shut. "This is Halima, Asha’man." He announce, "Logain's third, and at the moment, she's about to teach you about saidin."

"Not only them, Narishma." Halima told him, "join them, you're about to get a lesson." Light, the look on his face was worth the fate that waited for her by itself.

---

Toviene stopped glowering at the men in the kitchen only when she felt a change in the bond, Logain was coming closer. She frowned at the door, the man felt grim. Not that this was something rare, the past few days, but now he felt grimmer than the usual. She considered going and finding him when he appeared in the doorframe. "Toviene, can I have a word with you?" Voice and expression revealed not a hint of his anger.

Toviene glanced back, it was amazing how many troubles the Asha'man managed to get into, just cooking. They were supposed to be able to fight; they couldn't even manage a stew. Part of her mind was already busy planning chores for the Asha’man. Although, considering how unwell they were at cooking. Toviene didn’t want to imagine what they would manage while doing laundry. "What do you want?" She asked, coming closer to him. Whatever he wanted, he obviously wanted privacy.

"To ask you something, Toviene," He said, he raised his right hand, stabbing in the air with what he held in it. "What is this?"

"Half chewed chicken leg," She told him, "I've seen its like before, anything special in this one?"

Logain just glared at her for ten heartbeats, then he spoke, nearly whispering, shaking with anger, "Did you waited for it to die of old age before you let them cook it!"

Toviene sniffed, all the indignation she had hidden so far exploding suddenly, "Why don’t you try to teach this... idiots how to make something eatable?"

Logain looked beyond her, at the men that made the kitchen stuff, and sighed deeply. "You couldn't make worse choices, Toviene," He said, stopping to take another bite from the chicken’s leg he still held, he frown at the chicken's leg and swallowed. "The five on the left will do anything to spite an Aes Sedai, and the three with the stew are the worst pranksters I've ever met." He muttered something that sounded like an apology and walked past her. The men tensed as he approached.

Curious, Toviene opened herself to saidar, with the One Power in her, she could hear Logain's voice as clearly as if he stood next to her: "... don't care how much fun you're making, Gybrel. The eight of you are better start making decent food, right now! Or else I swear I'll make you eat every last drop that comes out of this bloody place!"

Gybrel, a short man with a constant sneer on his face, said something not even her saidar - enhanced hearing could catch. Whatever it was, it did nothing to soothe Logain. "Buy it, steal it, make it with saidin, if you must, I don't care! I'd better meals in tavern where you could find rats in your bear!" Then the man turned back and reached her in five long strides.

"Your assistance will not be needed here anymore, I think." He said, then glanced back and added: "It better not be!" She stared at the eight Asha’man for a moment, so they weren’t as incompetent as they pretended. Well, maybe she should use Logain’s method. Put the fear of the Light in them.

She blinked, realizing that Logain was already gone, and hurried after him. She found him two corridors away, leaning his head against a wall. "How long was it since you last slept?" She asked as she took his hand and half dragged half pulled him forward.

"Sleep?" He said, sounding as if the word was entirely alien to him, "I don't know, fifteen, twenty hours, I think. Not much of a sleep, though. I'd a corpse in my bed, it tend to give you bad sleep."

"And?" She inquired, what she felt from him wasn't caused by missing just one night's sleep.

"And before I'd to go fetch al'Thor from his hiding, then there was saidin being cleansed, and I couldn't sleep because of the beauty of it, and then there was..." He laughed sourly, "There is always something." Toviene would've been the first to admit that she barely knewLogain, but she could hardly believe how tired the man sound. "It should have been over, Toviene." He sounded angry, "Light, but it should have been over long time ago." She took his hand and began walking, guiding him forward, he walked stiffly, and yawned often.

"What should've over?" Toviene didn't really concentrate on the conversation, all Logain really needed was some sleep. She hesitated in a junction for a moment before recognizing the color patterns on the rocks and taking the second corridor from the right.

"Commanding," Logain muttered, "Hate it, good at it, but I hate it nonetheless. Oh, here you are, Halima. I thought Narishma had you busy."

Toviene could have sworn that the woman wasn't there a heartbeat ago, but there she was now, frowning at Logain. "Class is over, Logain." She said, and then turned her at Toviene. "What is wrong with him?"

"Nothing is wrong with me," Logain announced, somehow, he managed to erase all signs of tiredness. Toviene could feel exhaustion being pushed away. Logain stepped away from her, "What do you mean, class is over? What could you've possibly thought them in so short a time?"

"Diverting, Logain. They would practice it for a week or two before they'll learn how to do it correctly, but in the meantime they wouldn't need my guiding."

"Diverting?" Toviene asked, "What is that?"

"Have you ever used the One Power in a battle?" Halima asked, "Against someone that can use the One Power against you?" Toviene shock her head slowly, the few times she encountered men that could channel before Logain there had been no fights.

"Tearing apart another's weaves takes just as much of the One Power that the other one is using, that is, if you're both using the same side of the True Source. If you'll try to sever my weaves, or I yours, Toviene, that is different, depending on what you're weaving. Most of the time it's harder, sometimes twice as hard or more. If you want to pick a fight with an Asha'man, Toviene, make sure he's at most half your strength, not that there are many this strength. Not according to Narishma, save maybe soldiers who had yet to gain some strength."

"I knew it already," Logain said, "It's why no man can face thirteen women."

"That is part of the reason," Halima agreed, she Leaned on the wall and looked at Logain, "If you're going head to head with thirteen women, you'll loose, always, Logain."

Logain laughed, it was a grim sound, "I know, the Light know how good I know it."

"Oh, yes, of course." Halima said, she didn't even had the grace to blush, "However, there are other ways to fight, even when the odds are against you. And, just in case you will be facing thirteen women, direct your effort to the one leading the circle, if you don't know who she is, just kill any one of them. It will give you all the time you need, either to escape or to attack again."

Toviene nearly chocked, hearing that, "Do you've any idea what happen to a the women in a circle if one of them die while she is linked?"

"It happened to me, three times," Halima said simply, "And in a circle with men and women in it, the reaction is far worse. That is another thing to remember, Logain. If you're face a link with both men and women involved, flee. They would counter anything you can do, and even a circle with only one man and woman would be too strong for you to handle."

"I'll keep that in mind," Logain smiled briefly, "though I don't see why the Asha'man would have trouble learning that."

"That is the not what I thought them," Halima shrugged, "That is just a free tip, Logain."

"Oh?" Toviene said, "Then what did you teach the Asha'man?" Toviene frowned, she might have gotten used to Halima channeling saidin, as impossible as it sound. But very few knew Halima's secret. "You let them know that you can channel?"

"I did, they were... quite impress," Halima answered, "And I what I did teach them was how to practice what I just explained. You don't go head to head at someone who is stronger than you, you use the mirror of the mists, shields, false weaves, anything that may divert the opponent's attention and allow you to flee or attack. I showed them, and explained them, how to use almost all the tricks I knew. After enough practice, they would use it without needing to plan it ahead. They don't need me to practice; they were so excited about it I think they would keep trying it out until they will collapse. Speaking of which, Logain, you're very near one yourself."

Logain looked at her, the smile on his lips never reached the tired eyes. "I'll be fine."

"No, you'll not be, Logain Albar." Halima said, her eyes flashed suddenly, she no longer leaned on the wall; she stood right next to Logain. "Listen to me, you oak brain fool, you're clouded in the oneness. Of course you would feel fine. You would feel just fine until you burn yourself out."

"I'll be careful, Halima." Logain said, he brush a strand of hair from Halima's face, "You've my word." Then he just turned and walked away.

Halima watched him for full ten heartbeats, then she strode after him, she uttered into the air words in the Old Tongue Toviene had never heard before. After several steps she switched to a language design for no human throat. Toviene had a fair understanding in the Trolloc's Tongue, and she understood not a word there just as well. Which, considering who was talking, was just as good with her. Logain turned and watched, face blank, Halima coming closer.

Toviene wasn't sure what came next; Halima reached out for Logain, the man watched her coldly, seemingly as impassive as the White Tower itself. Halima reached out for Logain, one hand stroked his cheek, the other lied on his shoulder. Logain moved so he half embraced Halima. The raven hair woman smile, and Logain collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut. Toviene rubbed her eyes, she was quite sure Halima didn't use saidin, Logain could have counter that, but still, the man just collapsed on the floor. Then she looked better, and began chuckling.

The big man wasn't lying on the floor. As the stream of half muffled words suggest, something blocked him on the way to the stones. Halima was that something. Logain was thrown into the air, hanging seven feet in the air, apparently unconscious. Toviene burst out laughing even as she offered Halima a hand. The other woman shot a pained glare at her and ignored her hand. When she stood, she lowered Logain by two feet, floating merely five feet above the ground.

Halima was once one of the Forsakens, the strongest Aes Sedai that betrayed the Light in the Age of Legends, but despite seeing her channeling before. Toviene thought that only now she truly began to believe who Halima was. Not merely knowing it, but also believing it. Toviene thought she could lift Logain with Air, if needed, but that would require her to draw every drop of the power she could and would strain her still. Lifting things with Air was one of the hardest tasks to be done with saidar, and Logain weight about twice her weight.

Halima began walking, hunched. One hand was pressed to her ribs, but by the way she cursed, Toviene knew no ribs were broken or cracked.

"What did you do to him?" She asked the dark woman.

Halima turned to look at her, green fire burned in her eyes, "I'd a very long hard week, Toviene. Why don't you find some place that need to be dusted, or another meal to cook, which by the way, can't be any worse than this breakfast, people who tried to poison me before had better things to offer me to eat. Just find something, anything, that needed to be doing, or don't need doing, and do it anyway."

A gateway opened almost at the same time with the last word, and Halima, and Logain, passed through. Toveine stood for a moment, half stunned, half hurt. And then began walking away, there was something in the Dragonmount that needed her ordering it. And Halima can be burned to the Pit of Doom.

---

"I hate him," Amelin spluttered, pacing the length of the room endlessly. "I truly hate him."

Lyandra looked at her friend, the stone the walls were made of was hard and cold and almost comforting as she leaned against it, her knees still held her lightly, especially when Darian was near. And it was two days since they were brought here. There was no need for Amelin to explain whom she was referring to. Darian al'Falder from the Two Rivers; she thought, she still couldn't decide what she felt for the man. "You sound very much as if you're trying to convince yourself that you hate him, Amelin." Lyandra noted, the room was all but completely bare, a rocky table that might collapse if she would breath hard in its direction, and few chairs in no better shape. The size of the room, however, was shocking; it was bigger than her entire quarters, in her house in Caemlyn. And it was only one room! Beside the chairs and the table, the only thing she could focused her eyes on in the big room were the doors. Five of them, one led outside, to the depth of the Dragonmount, Lyandra was more then thrilled enough to search those caves. It would was an adventure, they seemed to go on forever, miles and miles of corridors and rooms and halls. She glanced once at their only source of light, a ball twice the size of her head, made of red angry flames. It hung about ten feet in the air, giving more than sufficient light. That was all there was to look at in the room, save Amelin.

Amelin snorted, hard, "What else I suppose to feel for that... creature whose mother bedded with seven flea bitten horses?"

Lyandra shock her head in amazement, it was Amelin who was always logical and rational, while she was the one who pushed her friend to franks and tricks. Now, it seemed to be the other way around, and it was both unnerving and against the way the universe worked. "Since when do we do what we're suppose to do, Amelin?" She asked, "We were not suppose to kiss Darian, but we did. He wasn't supposed to take us as his warders, but he did. He gave rather a good explanation for that, certainly not enough to make me forget his actions, but enough for me to understand."

"Not knowing how to kiss a girl with saidin is not an acceptable excuse, Lyan!" Amelin was all but shouting, "Not by far!"

Lyandra laughed suddenly, Amelin rarely let her temper loose, but it was always fun to see her doing so, especially since she was so... regretful afterward. "If he felt half what I felt when he kissed me, I wouldn't have blame him for a heartbeat, neither would have you, if you weren't so angry of yourself because I lured the two of us into a trouble once more."

"You lured us?" Amelin wondered, "You were about run away when I dragged you with me to kiss him, and I should have warned to avoid him!"

Lyandra sighed, it was always so, in the end, Amelin had too much sense of duty, she tried to teach her friend to take life lightly, but she didn't quite succeed, yet. But, then again, she had only dozen years or so to try, she was sure that by the time they Amelin's hair would turn gray she would learn that lesson. Amelin had the most wonderful hair, golden red, nothing like her own hair, which was nearly white from the day she was born. Her mother claimed that it was pale blond, but Lyandra did have eyes. "It wasn't your fault, Amelin," She told the other woman, "If any could be blamed it would be my sister, next time I would see her, I swear I would make her sorry for passing around false rumors." She noted to herself not to make her younger sister too afraid of passing rumors and gossip, there were true rumors, or so she have heard.

"If you'll see her again," Amelin said, she came to a halt, and took a seat on a chair that groaned warningly under her weight. "The man wouldn't let us go home, he kidnapped us from Caemlyn, brought us to this Light Forsaken caves, and he refuse even to consider letting us go!"

"He explained that well enough," Lyandra said, why did her friend refuse to listen to logic? "He can't let us go, that is why what he did to us called a Bond."

Amelin glared at her, "And how could you be so sure he isn't lying?"

"I use my head, Amelin." Lyandra replied coldly. But then she abandoned all her calmness, "Why don't you use it? You are the one reading philosophy all the time! Use some of what you've learn, for the Light's sake!"

"Should I return later, when it's safer to be near you?" A too familiar voice asked.

Amelin's eyes turned to ice, she looked at no one that way, "What are you doing here?" Lyandra tried not to wince; Amelin's voice was a perfect imitation of her mother. And Dyelin had an air of command bested only by Morgase.

"Those are still my rooms, Amelin." Darian said, "I've every right to be here." It may be his quarters, but so far he hadn't set a foot near them, or near her or Amelin since they arrived. The man looked exhausted, felt exhausted. There was sweat on his face, and he limped lightly. His right ankle felt tender, she could feel all of that through the Bond. And there were other bruises on him, including one on his face, an inch lower from his left eye.

"I would be more than happy enough to leave this place," Amelin shouted, Darian stared at her with wide eyes. It was more than strange, feeling the man inside her mind, feeling his body, emotions in her head. She thought she could almost hear his thoughts as well, almost. "Just make one of those bloody holes in the air and let the two of us go."

"I explained you before, Amelin Taravin!" Darian said, Lyandra let her eyes scan him. He was quite tall, taller than her by a hand, and almost a head above Amelin. His hair was deep black, and his eyes were brown so deep it became black as well. He was handsome, but nothing more, it was the smile that made her and Amelin choose him as their... prey. Of course, at the end, they were those hunted. "I can't let you go, not now, not ever! The bond wouldn't let me!"

"Can't you just undo... whatever it's you've done?" Lyandra said, she seemed to be the only calm person in the room. She didn't like that very much, it should have been the other way around.

"How much you would have like to die, Lyan?" Darian asked, "That is the only thing that you can be freed from the bond." Should her heart jump so, upon hearing him calling her in her honey name?

"What about your death?" Amelin asked savagely, "Give me a knife and I would be more than happy to free myself from you." The table nearly collapsed as the dagger sank easily into the old, almost rotten, wood.

"You have a dagger," Darian voice was emotionless, the dagger hit the table five inches from Amelin's hand. Save his sword, Lyandra saw not a hint of any other weapon on Darian. Not that he needed any, he had saidin, maybe he simply created the dagger with saidin, but she saw his hand moving, a blazing blur. "Let's see if you can truly... free yourself of me." In five long strides he reached Amelin, there wasn’t any anger in him, but Lyandra felt comprehension, knew that Amelin felt it too, and that it angered her. Glancing at one of the chairs, he apparently realized that it wouldn't hold his weight; it barely held Amelin. He seated himself on a flame! A chair that seemed to be created of fire! Lyandra felt no warmth from it, however.

Amelin's hand stretched toward the knife, every eye in the room laid on Amelin's hand, "I can't!" Amelin said finally, her hand almost touching the dagger. "I can't!"

"No you can't," Darian said, leaning back in that flame chair of him, sounding as arrogant as any king Lyandra had heard, and she had heard most of them! "Another thing the bond takes care for, now you understand what I was talking about when I told you that I can't let you go? The bond was created in order to make two people stick together, it wouldn't let us apart."

Lyandra sniffed, "Still, you've no right to make us stay with you, Darian!" She told him, leaving her place near the wall. There were few things that the man had to learn if, as he claimed, they would have to be close for the rest of their lives. And now was the time for the first lesson. "We asked to be kissed, not to be bonded, what under the Light made you bond us?"

Darian looked at her eyes for a long moment, "Do you know Elayne?" He asked, "Elayne Tarkand, the Queen of Andor."

"Neither of us knows any other Elayne, Darian." Amelin said impatiently, "What does Elayne has to you bonding us?"

"Why don't you ask her?" The man suggested, "I sent her the long way here, but she still should be here any moment." He rose to his feet, the flame that made the chair winked out of existence. "I don't think that I would like to be here when she arrives." He felt a trifle nervous, "She lectured me like I'm six years old."

"Mentally, are you older?" Amelin asked acidly.

Darian was at the door, ignoring his warder's words, when he suddenly turned his head back, "One thing I forgot to mention, Elayne is the Lord Dragon's warder, why don’t you ask her how it's to be a warder to an Asha'man. She should know." The door closed behind him, leaving them both in a state that could have been described only as deep, stunned, shock.

---

Leanna sat crossed leg on a chair in the main room of Logain's quarters. Three hips of papers were sorted out in front of her. She stared at them for the Light alone knows how long. On the table there was also an ink bottle and a pen that seemed to have been thrown on the table by an angry hand. Halima's cat, Ayende, sat by her chair, and Leanna caressed the think golden fur every now and then. Mainly, she just frowned at the papers.

The reports she'd sorted in front of her were sorted from the impossible to the probable. One report claimed that nearly one hundred and fifty Aes Sedai disappeared from the White Tower, belonging to both Elaida's faction and those Aes Sedai who came from Salidar. Another stated that there was not a single king or queen in the Borderlands. The same report also mentioned that the Borderlands were preparing for war, and no one seem to know whatever the armies would move north, into the Blight, or south, against the Dragon Reborn.

Another report from the White Tower claimed that the King of Illian was found dead in the cells unused for a thousand years. The former king, that is, not Rand al’Thor; and the Seanchan seemed to have taken the Fortress of Light and moved into Altara. Apparently they suffered great defeat. Another report was supposedly from Tarabon, a land where no reports arrived from for nearly two years. It claimed that a new commander arrived to rule the Seanchan. And was even now moving toward Altara by means of flying beasts.

There were half a dozen reports about a man who were supposedly of great importance to the Seanchan that were captured in Ebou Dar. Apparently he stood high in the Seanchan's priorities, he was sent to the new commander immediately. Accompany with a guard bigger than the White Tower gave to Guaire Amalasan.

How did Halima gotten all those reports was a mystery to Leanna. She was about to go and find either Halima or al'Thor when a gateway appeared in the far end of the big room. Halima passed through, with Logain floating beside her. Leanna thought she could glimpse Toviene behind Halima as the gateway closed. Halima's face was a thunderstorm. "I take it that your meeting with Graendel was successful," she told Halima. She was not about to ask the woman what was Logain doing, floating in the air, apparently asleep.

"I survived, hence, it was," For a moment, something alien showed in Halima's eyes. "It was a... relief, to know I've not changed as much as I thought I was. And Graendel had a pretty good idea about what is happening to me." Ayende rose from near her chair and went to Halima. Leanna watched how the muscles moved under the skin; it was fascinating sight. "Hello to you too, pretty." Halima bent on one knee and moved a hand through the fur on the creature's back. Logain floated in the air toward his room, without Halima so much as looking at him.

"She was that much of a help," Leanna wondered.

"Oh, yes." Halima replayed, smiling coldly. Somehow, it seemed like she had changed, her movements were much more exact, her eyes colder. Much colder, Leanna noted. "Not willingly, but she was a great help nevertheless." Halima stood and took a chair. Ayende followed her, seating near her chair and looking up, the golden Valdar's tail moved slowly from side to side. With cats, unlike dogs, that meant nervousness, Leanna thought. "I see that you've not gave Lews Therin his reports yet."

"Half of them I can't believe to, and those I can believe..." Leanna looked at Halima, "I've been of the blue ajah for twenty years, and I've handled dozen eye-and-ears networks during that time, after becoming Aes Sedai again, I still managed my own eye-and-ears network in Tar Valon, but this..." She fell quite for a moment and then continued, "How did you got this reports, Halima? Some of them reached from places that the Tower, the White Tower, that is, tried to spy on for the last one thousand years! Unsuccessfully."

"It's much easier this age than it was in mine," Halima shrugged, "A simple weave and they aren't even aware that they are sending me information. And there is no way anyone in this age save those of the Cho ... Forsakens will even suspect that."" Halima stretch to take the pen and the ink bottle and began scribing hurriedly on the blank side of a sheet of paper. A report from Arad Doman, claiming that no Seanchan crossed the border from Tarabon.

"It's something I found in a distant part of the White Tower's library, I think Ilyena Therin Dalisar would love the humor in it." Halima said several minutes later, "Make sure she will read it, will you? I think you'll find her with Lews Therin, I overheard her saying she would go to him." She turned her eyes lower, to the cat seating near her, "come, Ayende, let me see what happened to the rest of your brothers and sisters while I was gone."

Leanna took the paper and scanned it quickly, it was in the Old Tongue, but she knew it almost as well as she knew the common language, most Aes Sedai did.

And they met each other at the gates of Paran Desen, the last fortress of the Light. The world's capital, the home for the Hall of Servants; they met each other in bloody battle beneath dark skies. They met each other on the High Gates where the Hall of Servants could be admired. They met each other with blades and hate and saidin. They met each other and the world itself cried out in despair. They met each other. And the world trembled at their battle. The Lord of the Morning, and the Betrayer of Hope, they met each other, the Prince of Dawn, and the Heart of Dark. They met each other, indeed. Lews Therin and the man we named Ishmael. They met each other, as they always did, as they always will. And it was on the gates of Paran Desen that that the battle took place. A game played thousands of times. A game that they played from the beginning of time; he who commanded the armies of the Light, and the one that was called Naeb'lis; a game that would be played until the end of time, to dictate the fate of the world, they played, and play, and will play.

They met each other, and I was there to watch. They met each other with hate eternal, and they broke the very reality in their battle; the pattern itself bended under the pressure of their battle. I was there to watch, I was there to witness, and I was there to cry over victory harder than I would over defeat. They met each other, at a battle that was more than swordplay; more than another fight between Naeb’lis and the First of the Servants.

The Shadow watched, and so did the Light. As the two men that commanded Shadow and Light fought. For the world itself was what they battle for, and the Wheel of Time and the pattern. And all that there was, and all that there is, and all that there will be; for there can be no peace with the Shadow. And the armies of the Light watched. And the armies of the Shadow watched. And the world watched, and the Dark Lord of Grave watch as well, from hid prison in Shayol Ghul.

And the Creator watched as well.

For in the gates of Paran Desen he won, he whom we named Dragon, he whom we later named Kinslayer; and the Shadow was driven back, and Paran Desen survived, and so did the Light, and the world cried out in relief. And the man we called Dragon, and the Lord of the Morning, and the Prince of Dawn, and the First of Servant. The High Commander of the Light, the man who saved us all, Lews Therin Telamon.

And the world shed tears of joy and sorrow. And the dead were grieved and those who lived still joy. And Ilyena cried, in relief. For her husband survived, and won.

But so did the man whom we named Ishmael. For Ishmael betrayed all hope. And as the Light feast, Ishmael sought revenge.

And the Shadow was driven back, but wasn't defeated. But our trust was with the Lord of the Morning, and he did lead us in victory. And he was the last to flee at battles lost. The first in attack, the last in retreat; the First of Servants, the High Lord of house Therin; whom we loved, whom we believed.

But even he Prince of Dawn is a human being, and the Shadow pressed forward, it every movement planting more seeds of evil into the world's heart; And in the Pit of Doom, the Lord of Grave, Father of Lies, whose true name is never to be mentioned, laughed at our efforts. For they were few and futile, and the final defeat was near; But the Light won still, and we named our savior Kinslayer, and Ilyena could cry no more. And the Light feast no more. The world did not joy in the victory of the Light, and the Breaking came.

For Lews Therin promised, on Paran Desen, after facing Ishmael and all the armies of the Shadow, after winning his greatest victory. Lews Therin promised. And the Dragon kept his word, and will keep it still.

And I knew that people would forget.

But I can never forget, and the people of the world must remember the Dragon. The world must remember Kinslayer. For there is no deed too cruel for Lews Therin not to take for the Light's sake; and no price would be unpaid, for the Light's sake. For Lews Therin knew no limits, no bounds. Blinded by his pride, dazzled by his haughtiness. He sealed Leaf Blighter in his prison, and those whom we named Forsakens. Those who were once of our own, were sealed with their dark lord as well; and Lews Therin sealed his fate in that day, too.

People of the world, fear and tremble from his coming; the man who will be your savior; whom you would rightfully name Kinslayer; the man whose pride broke the world; whose arrogance tainted saidin.

People of the world, wait in terror. For the rebirth of the one who promised that he would tear apart the world, and the pattern and the wheel and time as well. He promise to destroy everything there is and was and will be, before he would give the Dark Lord of Grave the world. Fear his world and wait in terror for his rebirth. For he kept his word, and he broke my world; and he will break yours as well. My flesh rot away, my mind is chaos; I was an Aes Sedai once. Soon the madness would take me in its arms as it has taken so many others. Remember! For the price of forgetting the Dragon is too high to be paid. Fear the man that knows no limits, and will break all laws. Fear the man that will be your savior. May the Light save us all from him. May the Light save us all from the Light’s champion.

For he would break the world again; Fear him, dread his coming, and pray for it; for he is your salvation, but your destruction, as well.

Leanna could just stare at it for a long time; it wasn't something rare, reading this kind of warning in books that remained from the Time of Madness. But why would Halima want to send that to Ilyena. The woman had more temper than a Saldean girl that caught her man with another in the barn. For a good reason, she caught the man that was her husband with three women.

Then she noticed a note in the common language, in what seemed like a different handwriting entirely. It wasn't an excuse, but it offered an explanation, at least some of it.

Ilyena, I found this in the White Tower's library. I think you might be interested to know that the author of this fragment represent most of what the people today think about Lews Therin Telamon. Injustice isn’t as rare as you might wish it would be. And Lews Therin had his fair share in that. His price was paid long ago.

~ Halima Saranov.

Rand leaned forward, anger fighting to break free from the tight reins he held it in. Min sat, her legs folded beneath her, and watched him control the anger; restrain it. "Wetlanders laws, Rand al'Thor." Sorilea said stiffly. The old Wise One shook with fury; "They mean nothing to Aiels."

Amys stood a foot from her companion, quiet, glaring. Min hadn't expected this to be easy. According to Rand, it was supposed to be over, with the Wise Ones agreeing to listen to him. He was dead wrong if he thought that the Wise Ones would suddenly decide to obey his every whim. "It's not a bloody law, Sorilea." Rand did not shout, but she could feel the force behind the words. As far as Min knew, no one shouted as Sorilea, for as long as anyone can remember. If she will push him just one bit too far, that record would break like twigs. In the mood Rand was, he might do just that. And there was no knowing what Sorilea might do. Min chew her lower lip as she watch, searching vainly for a way to stop this argument. Aviendha might have found a way; the Aielwoman knew both Wise Ones, and Rand, of course, well enough to make them begin talking, instead of shouting at each other. But Aviendha, because she knew Rand and Amys and Sorilea, chose to flee rather than watch an argument between those three. Min half cursed herself for not showing even that much common sense. Of all the stupid things she'd ever done because she loved Rand, this was one of the most foolish ones.

"If it was a law, of a king or a queen or of the Light itself, I would have break it for them, Sorilea." Rand said, his voice frozen, inside, he was a storm. Hurt and anger were the ones she clearly felt. Betrayed too, the Asha'mans were his making, and now he felt that they turned against him.

Some of them did just that, as far as they knew. The others disappointed him, most of them, anyway. All those not in the Dragonmount were either missing or have taken a warder unwillingly. Rand could hardly care less about those Aes Sedai on whom the Bond was forced; they weren’t hurt. And that was all he cared about. Beside, they’ve gotten nothing more than they deserved, at least in Min’s eyes.

But the other women, all those that were taken warders in Caemlyn... that was another story entirely. And it was another scar to Rand's bleeding soul.

"Any weave can be unweave," Amys spoke now for the first time, "What was done can be undone. Must be undone, Car'a'carn. It wouldn't erase your Asha'mans' toh, but it might be a step in the right way."

Rage babble in Rand so fast that Min jumped to her feet; for a moment she feared that he might do something to the Wise Ones. As quickly as it appeared, it was replaced by icy determination. "Aviendha told me about unweaving, Amys. I knew about the dangers in it already. But it will not work, not with the bond."

"Have you ever tried, Rand al'Thor?" Sorilea asked, "Aes Sedai think it's impossible, and deadly. We know the dangers, but it is possible."

Rand pointed to the wall to his right, the wall opposite to her, and suddenly the wall exploded. Sharp pieces of broken stones were stopped in midair and were gathered into a neat pile near the hole in the wall. Seven feet across, the thing was; if not more. "Can you unweave that, Sorilea? Amys?" Rand asked, his voice showing much of his anger, "There is no weave to unweave there, only the result of a weave. The same with the Bond; trust me for that. There is no weave to unweave, only its results."

"Still," Amys insisted, putting her fists on her hips, Sorilea scowled a scowl hard enough to pull down the Dragonmount by itself, "I'll not have the Maidens in here, being ... "

"That is quite enough!" Rand roared suddenly. Min wished she could close her eyes, it was unnatural; that was what it was. For Sorilea to get shouted, "They have been Bond, Amys. And the Asha'man has much toh for the Maidens of the Spear. They will repay it in full; you've my words of it. But I'd not summoned you here..." Min stopped listening; instead she concentrated on praying. Praying that someone, anyone, would enter the room and interrupt Rand. He was talking his way into troubles, serious ones. But she could think of no way to stop him. Not even Aiel Clan Chiefs commanded the Wise Ones. No one ever summoned them anywhere.

"That is quite enough indeed," Agreed a new voice, Min eyes turned to the door; she hadn't heard it opening. She groaned silently, near crying. She prayed for anyone to save her, and Rand, but she didn't mean that woman. Anyone but that woman and she would have offered thanks to the Light. Now all she had to offer was acid bitterness.

"I need to speak to you, Lews Therin," The woman said, as regal as a queen and twice as commanding, "Send the others away, now." Ilyena's commanded.

Ilyena Sunhair, the woman who had married the Dragon, told the Dragon Reborn, while his lover watched with tears filling her eyes.

Valir guided her until the tall doors, and then he all but run away, muttering something about women and troubles that Ilyena didn't quite hear. Shrugging the thought off ... men were always strange, and in this age they were even stranger, if that was possible ... she entered into Lews Therin's rooms. For a moment she stood in the door, listening, watching.

"This is quite enough!" Lews Therin roared, he was there, of course, along with three others. Two women in white blouses and deep brown skirts. Both of them were able to channel, both pitifully week. And another woman, who couldn't channel, seating on a chair on the far side of the room, she had a desperate air about her. As if she was cornered with no way out. Lews Therin talked, but Ilyena didn't listen. She could just watch the man. Hair like dark flames, eyes that were gray or blue, depending on the way the light reflected on them. He was very tall, but that was were the resemblance between him and Lews Therin ended.

Lews Therin was dark hair and eyes and skin, a man that his very presence demanded obedience. Lews Therin was bulkier built than this lad. Both wider and stronger than this man; but despite all those changes, that man was the man was married too.

Much lighter build than Lews Therin, but he moved with the same catlike quality that she despite so much, upon the first times she met Lews Therin. And looking into blue-gray eyes, Ilyena could see the man she fell in love with, looking back.

"That is quite enough indeed," She forced herself to speak, her eyes wouldn't let go of the tall man, "I need to speak with you, Lews Therin. Send the others away, now."

His eyes became blank, hard as stone, unreadable. "Out!" The man ordered, not to her, to the other women. "I will talk with her alone."

The tallest woman, with hair that had gone white, stiffed in indignation, but before she had a chance to say anything, Lews Therin spoke, commanded: "Ji’e’toh, Amys, Sorilea. You still have toh to pay for the Aes Sedai. And at the moment, that woman here," Lews Therin pointed at her with angry hand, "Is the only one that remained to whom you toh can be paid, Da’shion."

Both women reacted as if slapped, "Aviendha told us about her, Rand al'Thor." The wrinkled one said, and then fell silent. The two exchanged glances. While Ilyena waited impatiently. Both were women with great inner strength; that much was clear to her. But Ilyena had waste no time on wondering who they were. She had married Lews Therin, after that, one could hardly be impress by others' strength of will.

It took them a long moment to reach a decision, finally, the older woman said: "Be careful, Rand al’Thor." and left, practically dragging the other one with her.

"Such an interesting scene, Lews Therin." She told the man that once was her husband. "I believed I might have just saved your ears from being boxed." The man said nothing, but he smiled for a heartbeat, mirthless grin that involved nothing but his mouth. She remembered that smile all too well, even despite the different body, she knew him. And he was her husband. She couldn't help remembering...

Her temper rarely raged so, but now... that nauseating man angered her to levels all but unknown to her. The last time she remembered feeling such fury was when the Sharom died. It was long since she learned to control her emotions, and still it was hard, she wanted to strangle that irrational barrel of dehydrated swamp mud. That change in laws would ruin anything!

A loud sound and a flash of green light gave her something to focus her anger on, save that contaminated Lews Therin. Someone was trying to travel into her rooms. A man, she couldn't see the flows. Grimacing, she wove saidar with the ease of long practice, to inform the man, whoever he might be, that she wished no company. The light died, and she nodded to herself in satisfaction. Too quickly, as it turned out, a line appeared in the air, she gape at it as it resolved and turned, opening into a hole in the air, a hole to another place. It was a violation of every custom regarding Traveling.

When she saw the man who passed through the gateway, she understood. Lews Therin never gave customs any thought. Rumors said he tend to break the laws themselves wherever it was comfortable for him. Just as he did now in the Hall of Servants.

"Don't you have any respect for the law, Lews Therin?" She asked in a voice that she feared might break. She was only a step from attacking him with the One Power.

The man seemed to consider the question for a while, his eyes moved constantly, registering anything in the room. Not that there were much to see, a copy of Guilt, the picture Mierin created, hang on the wall, a real size copy, she had to find herself another apartment so it would fit the huge picture. Few pieces of furniture’s, and a library that took as much space as the picture; with thousands of books filling it.

"Not very much, Ilyena." The man replied slowly, his eyes focused on her finally, a startling dark gaze revealing nothing, exposing anything. "Haven't you heard the stories? Or do you belong to those very few that doesn't listen to the rumors?" Something that might have been a smile twisted his mouth, "Why did you object my suggestion?"

She blinked, startled at the quick change of subjects, then she shrugged; "You want to punish violencewith violence, Lews Therin. There was never a need for that before; I see no need for that in the future. Violenceencourages more violence, even you agree to that. And still you choose that path?"

He didn't so much as blink to her speech, "There were three dozens murders in the world just this recent year alone, that is more than we'd the last three decades combined! And you claim that there is no need to make punishment harsher?"

Ilyena shoved her mind away from that memory, the... meeting, if one can call such a thing a meeting, ended by Lews Therin having to use saidin to protect himself from saidar-wrought lightnings. Lews Therin had been the only one who could make her loose all control on her temper. "Send the other one too," She ordered, the dark woman stared at her, hate sparked in that gaze for a moment, immediately suppressed.

"I'm staying, Ilyena Sunhair." The woman stated coldly, "I'll not leave you with him. He might need my protection." The woman's eyes narrowed suddenly, she looked puzzled. She muttered something to herself, in tones of deep disdain. The only word Ilyena caught was "Illogical!"

"I can take care of myself, Min." Lews Therin said, his voice stiff as a Corra tree in midsummer.

The woman snorted, "On some areas, I'm certain, but that wasn't what I'm talking about."

Lews Therin looked frowned at the woman, and then he shrugged, "Women and Eagles," He said, looking back at her. Something dark crossed his face, and disappeared. No, it didn’t disappeared; it was pushed back, restrained, but never truly gone. How much like her Lews Therin, and how much unlike him, "I should have caged you."

Ilyena snorted, she remembered the saying, one of Lews Therin's favorites. Women and Eagles can be kept safe only in cages. "Don't be a complete idiot, Lews Therin Telamon." She told him, her voice ice. "You would've never managed to do such a thing. Not with me."

"Maybe not," He agreed, "But I should've at least tried. But I didn't, and I killed you, and now you are here."

"Indeed." She stared at him, her eyes frozen, the madness was no excuse for what he had done!

"No, it isn't. And I never thought so," Lews Therin said severely, for a moment, the ice wall that surrounded him from her broke. And she saw grief and sorrow and sadness like she herself felt.

"But that wasn't the reason you came here, Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar." Lews Therin said, "You aren't the kind of woman put the blame on my own actions on my own shoulders." No, she wasn't, and it would've been useless nevertheless. At the moment when his defenses broke down, she could see how much he blamed himself. There was nothing she could say or do that would make it any worse. She might be able to ease his pain, but she wasn't ready to do so for the time being.

"What do you want from me?" He asked her, cold and emotionless once again.

She grinned mirthlessly, "I might tell you, when I'll know myself. For now, I want to know what you think you are doing, letting two of the Forsaken walk freely!"

"They are hardly free, Ilyena." The man answered calmly, once again in full control of himself. Once again the man she knew. Part her wanted to leash out with saidar, another wanted just to find the comfort in death again.

"Explain yourself," She ordered, channeling saidar in order to pour herself a glass of wine. He rubbed his arms for a minute, reminding her that he could feel her hold on the power. In their own age, that motion was considered extremely rude.

"How far can I trust you?" He asked, blue eyes cold and hard, body tensed.

Something that might have been mirth or woe twisted in her stomach, she let him see none of that. "As far as you used to."

"Is it?" Her murmured slowly, one hand reached out to touch her forehead, "May I?" The motion wasn’t necessary, but it reminded her of old traditions, they died when the war began, and then, her world died too.

She hesitated for a heartbeat before inclining her head, "Of course." She had to force herself to let go of saidar, and this time it had nothing to do with that awful feeling of leaving in a world made of pale colors and shades of gray. It was almost a shock, to realize that she had to force herself to trust him. But she had too many shocks the last few days. And much had changed since she had seen her husband. Memories flash inside her head, even as he wove Compulsation. Probing for whatever hidden traps had been set inside her mind.

The hallway probably wasn’t the best place to wait, to worry, but Lews Therin would Travel here, and she could bear not one moment of waiting. That is, if he would ever Travel back home again. Ilyena chewed her lower lip nervously, an unconscious gesture she would’ve stopped immediately had she noticed.

"I still don’t understand why father wouldn’t let me go with him, the Light know I’m strong enough, and he would need every ounce of it in order to win." Herian grumbled, for a moment, Ilyena smiled at her youngest son. Herian Therin was very much like his father. We had done good job with him, Ilyena thought fondly.

"You’re too young, Herian," She said, Herian was barely twenty, but young as he was, he took part in battles since he was sixteen. "It’s not your place, yet."

The lad opened his mouth angrily; Ilyena arched an eyebrow in his direction, and saw him taking a grip on himself. "I’m old enough, mother." He muttered finally. Then his eyes widen slightly, "He’s coming." He said.

Ilyena could already see the flash of turning light as the Gateway resolved and opened. And then... she had a moment to look at her husband’s face, a moment that stretched all throughout eternity. She saw the alarmed expression on Herian face, the rage in Lews Therin’s face. But more than all she saw the eyes, brown so dark it was nearly black. It wasn’t the man she loved that looked through those eyes, but something else. And it was all she had time to see before something she could neither see nor feel picked her up. She had no time to react, to draw saidar, to weave a shield or even to shout before the darkness consumed her.

She snapped back to the present when the man removed his hand from her forehead. She steadied herself on shaky knees. "Satisfied?" She demanded, determined not to betray none of her weakness to him.

"Not quite so," He said quietly, almost mildly, sending tendrils of alarms through her body. He was never mild. "But it would suffice. Be seated, it is not a short story. Ilyena caught a glimpse of the other woman, the one wearing a man’s cloths. She seemed to be amused. And for some reason it annoyed her to no end.

---

The weaves that caged him were weakening constantly; Shai’tan didn’t grasp the passing of time as humans did. But he knew that now was the time to hurry. Plans set in motions hundreds of years ago were finally showing results. And the seals were weakening. Soon he would be free again, soon.

Hope was alien to the Lord of the Grave, but he knew expectation. And outside the pattern, locked inside a prison he tried to escape from the beginning of time, he watched the world. One last time he used the True Power as a battering ram. And, as expected, the weave surrendered to the might of the Great Lord of the Dark. Somewhere in the world, a black and white disc, made of unbreakable heart stone, cracked. Only a single seal remained to stop him from entering the world he craved for time too long to have a meaning. The Dark One’s roar of triumph roared echoed throughout Shayol Ghul.

Hope might be alien to Shai’tan, but then, so was despair. And even before the echoes of his roar silenced, the Leaf blighter began to ram the last seal that guarded the world from the Dark Lord of the Grave.

And somewhere in the world, under a mountain of rocks and stones, in a room on a mountain that was a sigh of both despair and of hope; a man woke up from a nightmare. Sweating and shivering, as a ward he set on his highest treasure triggered. Staring with blue gray eyes at the ceiling, Rand al’Thor cursed. "Blood and Bloody Flaming Ashes!"

~ ~ The End