Okay. So I've been sick recently, and all my inspiration for my Trek stuff seems to have dried...
Weaving Blind (The Wheel of Time SI)
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Walker of the Planes
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One
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The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one age, called the the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning, for there are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time, but it was a beginning.
Born amidst the snow and ice where the mountains touched the clouds, the wind swept down from the peaks and across the vast, flat plain that was called Almoth. It blew through the apparently endless grass to Toman Head, where it met the wind from the coast. There the chaotic winds swirled around the rounded top what was once a stone pillar, now near entirely buried in the ground.
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It all began with a dream. I had gone to sleep that night after staying up far later than I should have. So when I flipped the light switch and laid my head down on my pillow I fell asleep almost immediately.
A symbol, a circle pierced by an upward pointing arrow flashed against a black background. It was defined by white light that grew brighter as the flashing slowed, until my entire vision was dominated by the brilliant, blinding light of the symbol. And then everything changed with a...
Flicker.
I was playing baseball. I brushed at the dirt of the pitcher's mound with my foot and watched the batter. It was a college game, the top of the seventh inning, with one out and no runners.
The catcher called for the pitch. A fastball high and inside. I nodded and prepared.
Windup.
And just as I pitched, a spike of pain struck my head. My throw was off and went right down the middle. There was a loud sound as the bat connected perfectly and hit a hard line drive, right into my face.
And as my vision swam and I fell backwards, I heard a deep, disturbing voice.
I have won, Lews Therin.
Flicker.
I ran along a deserted street, ruined, burned out husks of homes on either side.
"Megan! Megan, where are you?" I yelled as I ran. Calling for my sister.
Where was she? Was she safe?
I held a pistol in my right hand, and in the distance I could hear gunfire. I dashed around the side of a building only to come face to face with three soldiers. I couldn't see their faces, obscured by gas-masks.
I raised my pistol, but it was too late. I felt each bullet pierce my chest, and I collapsed in an expanding pool of my own blood.
I have won again, Lews Therin.
Flicker.
I was bleeding from a gaping wound in my side. Blood flowed freely down my right leg. I held a slightly curved sword in front of me as I watched what could only be described as a monster. It had a dog's head, and its black eyes poured hatred towards me.
It charged, a handaxe held high as it let loose a blood-curdling cry. Ignoring the burning in my side, on instinct I stepped forward to meet it, my sword slipping between the beast's ribs and cutting into its heart.
I was doomed even before the axe slammed into my unprotected chest, and the monster - Trolloc - and I fell atop each other.
As my vision was slipping away, I caught sight of a blood-soaked figure on the ground a few feet away.
Father... Tam.
I have won, Lews Therin. I will always win.
Flicker. Flicker.
Scene followed scene, each one a picture of my death, of destruction and the end of things. And as I died over and over again, that voice repeated its infuriating refrain.
I have won again, Lews Therin.
Flicker. Flickerflickerflickerflickerfli-
Once more a symbol dominated my senses. Two brightly glowing wave-forms running parallel to each other. The sign flashed brighter than the Sun for an instant, and I could feel a blazing fire within me. Like I was channeling the light of the sun through my own being.
It was a surreal experience. The only word to describe the sensation was Ecstasy. I felt alive in a way that was totally new. But through it all I could feel a darkness tainting it, like oil on water.
And then I was well and truly awake.
I dropped from standing to my knees, which knocked painfully on the rough, weathered stone beneath me. I was breathing heavily, and a bit disoriented by the experience, but my senses were wide open.
In fact, they were superbly exact. I could feel the eddies of wind on my skin as it brushed each individual hair on my arms, and I could smell all the scents of the land, as well as my own sweat.
And I could still feel the power that coursed through me, filling me with that feeling of pure life. I wanted more of it. I instinctively reached out to draw more, and touched directly for the first time the taint that covered this power.
I reflexively threw away my connection to the power. Nauseous from the touching, I threw up violently.
What had just happened? As I pushed down my sickness and desire to puke, I wracked my mind. I had gone to sleep, and then I had those visions and now I was... where?
"What happened?" I asked myself aloud, not expecting an answer to the rhetorical question.
But I did get an answer from a woman a couple meters away, who tottered uneasily to her feet, pulling her dull brown cloak tight around her. "A surge of the One Power. It was sudden."
She walked unsteadily toward me and I met her brown eyes. She was short, obvious even when I was on my hands and knees. I had never seen her before, but at the same time I knew who she was.
Verin Mathwin.
The name rose up from somewhere within me, and I grabbed my head. That wasn't right. It was impossible.
The woman laid a hand on my shoulder and spoke softly but with force that demanded obedience. "You must learn control. That much Power could have burnt you to a cinder!"
I couldn't help it. I began to laugh. First soft chuckling and then full on laughter. It was too absurd.
My laugh sounded wrong, and my body felt weird, like it was larger than I was used to... longer. I ran my left, not dirty hand through my hair, which was short now, not long and held back in a ponytail.
"I-" I didn't know what to say. If this was what it seemed to be, then I was going to have very, very bad time ahead of me. "I suppose-"
"Don't suppose," Verin snapped. "Just listen to me, you stubborn fool!" Her voice dropped further, but lost none of its urgency.
"If the Dragon burns himself out, who will stand against the Dark One at Tarmon Gai'don?"
I drew a deep breath. All these words, the woman before me, the experience that felt like pure power flowing through me. It all pointed to one conclusion.
The Wheel of Time. A series of 14 novels written by Robert Jordan and then by Brandon Sanderson when he died. It was a series I rather liked all things considered, but I hadn't read much farther than the first four or five books since the series was finished.
And I was now in this world? No. No I wasn't.
"Where... am I?" I questioned. I could see a number of other men, and one creature that looked rather bestial moving around, clutching their heads or seeming otherwise inconvenienced."
Verin huffed, apparently not amused my not acknowledging her words.
"We've made it to Toman Head. I recognize the Portal Stone." She pointed to the rounded top of the Stone under my feet. "However..."
"However?" I was liking this less and less. This didn't feel like a dream at all. And if this was real, then I was in for very, very shitty time.
"Look at the trees," she said, gesturing to what appeared to be an oak of some description. Its leaves were yellow and orange and red. "It's late autumn now. We've lost time in coming here, about four months or so, when we meant to gain time."
She turned her stern look back to me. "You should not have tried to bring us directly here."
"I didn't-" I cut myself off. What could I say? That it wasn't me? Anything I said would sound crazy.
And if this was all real, if I had taken the place of Rand Al'thor... protests would be pointless.
She leaned in close. "You must let me help you, Rand. I cannot teach you, it is true, but perhaps I can keep you from killing yourself in trying. The world cannot afford that."
I grimaced. Rand Al'thor's fate was not one that I wanted. But I didn't really have much choice. I had to treat this as real.
Verin turned to go see to the others, the rest of the group that was hunting the Horn of Valere, an artifact of power that could call an army of Heroes that were bound to the Wheel of Time to fight for the Light. Before she stepped out of reach I lunged forward and grasped her wrist.
"I owe you an apology." I looked away, then glanced back out of the corner of my eye. I didn't want to apologize for another man's stubbornness, but she thought I was him. And if I had to live his life, then I wouldn't make his mistakes. "I'm sorry."
A small, motherly smile appeared on her face. "It is already forgiven. Now, I must see to the others."
I nodded and collapsed back onto the ground and stared into the mildly cloudy sky.
Verin Mathwin. Aes Sedai. Nominally of the Brown Ajah, but was actually a Black Sister, serving not he Light but the Dark. On the other hand, she was not a Black willingly, and ever since she had been essentially forced in she had been gathering a list of names. A list of Aes Sedai who served the Dark One.
If I could get my hands on a Binding Rod...
I shook my head. I was thinking too far ahead. What I needed to remember was the events near the end of the second book. That was what was happening now.
I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. What the hell had I just gotten into? The Wheel of Time was a massive series, with so many interweaving plots that I had no chance of remembering them all, even if I had read the whole series recently, which I hadn't.
"I walk in the Light!"
A loud voice caught my attention.
A severe looking man with his hair in a topknot was distraught, his voice frantic. Idly, I noted that I knew his name. He was Ingtar, a Shienaran soldier who was in command of the search for the Horn. "I will find the Horn. I will! And then pull down Shayol Ghul's power."
I missed Verin's words as she grasped his head.
That was when I felt it, the feeling of goosebumps all over my body. I focused on Verin, as Ingtar shuddered and drew in a sharp breath. As she released his head the goosebumps began to fade.
I blinked. I had felt her use the Power. I stepped closer as she moved on to another of the Shienarans. Once more I felt the goosebumps when she took hold of saidar, and they began to fade when she stopped.
A hand touched my shoulder and I twisted around like a startled rabbit. Behind me was a man with a mischievous look to him, nearly suppressed beneath a certain panic. That feeling in my head told me his name was Matrim Cauthon.
"I wouldn't do it Rand," he said. You must believe me. "I wouldn't betray you, I wouldn't."
I was a little startled by the vehemence in his voice. I couldn't help wondering what lives he lived due to the Portal Stone.
"I know." I didn't, but that seemed to be what he needed to hear. As I glanced around the camp once more, focusing more on the people, I found myself recalling names more and more quickly.
So I had Rand's ability to channel, and perhaps even some of his memories. When I focused on Mat or Perrin Aybara, I could occasionally recall glimpses of things that might have been old memories.
It all made me wonder how much of this body's talents I had retained. Like Rand's swordsmanship. Suddenly being unable to use the sword would be a rather great handicap.
I grasped the sword hanging from my hip and slowly drew it out. It already felt natural in my hand. I swung it around a couple of times before resheathing it. It felt like I knew how to do it, but I didn't want to rely on it.
I needed to teach myself to channel. Fast.
Verin's raised voice attracted everyone's attention. "We should head west. The larger towns on Toman Head are all to the west of here, not that there are any truly large towns. We should have little trouble finding a trace of our Darkfriends."
Ingtar spoke up. "Alright everyone, mount up. No sense wasting the daylight." He turned to the horses, muttering to himself. Somehow, I was sure he was repeating his mantra that he walked int he Light to himself.
Another Darkfriend cloaked in the guise of the Light. And a man who in the story went to his death willingly to prove that he could leave the Dark. Maybe I could save him?
In the time I had been thinking, Verin had crossed the distance to Mat and I and used her Healing on Mat, despite his protests. She reached for me and I let her, ignoring the urge to say I was fine.
Healing was an unpleasant experience. Like being doused in ice-cold water. But I felt good once the feeling had faded. I bowed my head to Verin in thanks.
I mounted the horse that I knew was mine, thankful for the instincts inherent to this body. Otherwise I would have wound up much, much more miserable than I was likely to be.
As we rode west, ever closer to a situation I wasn't sure I even wanted to be involved in, I stared at my right hand. More specifically, at the burn on the hand in the shape of a heron.
"Deep thoughts?" Verin asked as she rode up alongside me.
I looked over to her wondering what I should say. I turned my palm out to face her and recited the prophecy I was thinking on from memory.
"Twice and twice shall he be marked, twice to live and twice to die. Once the Heron to set his path, twice the Heron to name him true. Once the Dragon for remembrance lost, twice the dragon for the price he must pay."
Verin's eyes had turned serious as I recited it.
I clenched my hand into a fist, fingernails digging into the heron-shaped brand.
My voice dropped to a whisper, just loud enough for Verin to hear, and only because I was speaking directly towards her. "Only one Heron so far."
One
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The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one age, called the the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning, for there are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time, but it was a beginning.
Born amidst the snow and ice where the mountains touched the clouds, the wind swept down from the peaks and across the vast, flat plain that was called Almoth. It blew through the apparently endless grass to Toman Head, where it met the wind from the coast. There the chaotic winds swirled around the rounded top what was once a stone pillar, now near entirely buried in the ground.
|=====|=====|=====|
It all began with a dream. I had gone to sleep that night after staying up far later than I should have. So when I flipped the light switch and laid my head down on my pillow I fell asleep almost immediately.
A symbol, a circle pierced by an upward pointing arrow flashed against a black background. It was defined by white light that grew brighter as the flashing slowed, until my entire vision was dominated by the brilliant, blinding light of the symbol. And then everything changed with a...
Flicker.
I was playing baseball. I brushed at the dirt of the pitcher's mound with my foot and watched the batter. It was a college game, the top of the seventh inning, with one out and no runners.
The catcher called for the pitch. A fastball high and inside. I nodded and prepared.
Windup.
And just as I pitched, a spike of pain struck my head. My throw was off and went right down the middle. There was a loud sound as the bat connected perfectly and hit a hard line drive, right into my face.
And as my vision swam and I fell backwards, I heard a deep, disturbing voice.
I have won, Lews Therin.
Flicker.
I ran along a deserted street, ruined, burned out husks of homes on either side.
"Megan! Megan, where are you?" I yelled as I ran. Calling for my sister.
Where was she? Was she safe?
I held a pistol in my right hand, and in the distance I could hear gunfire. I dashed around the side of a building only to come face to face with three soldiers. I couldn't see their faces, obscured by gas-masks.
I raised my pistol, but it was too late. I felt each bullet pierce my chest, and I collapsed in an expanding pool of my own blood.
I have won again, Lews Therin.
Flicker.
I was bleeding from a gaping wound in my side. Blood flowed freely down my right leg. I held a slightly curved sword in front of me as I watched what could only be described as a monster. It had a dog's head, and its black eyes poured hatred towards me.
It charged, a handaxe held high as it let loose a blood-curdling cry. Ignoring the burning in my side, on instinct I stepped forward to meet it, my sword slipping between the beast's ribs and cutting into its heart.
I was doomed even before the axe slammed into my unprotected chest, and the monster - Trolloc - and I fell atop each other.
As my vision was slipping away, I caught sight of a blood-soaked figure on the ground a few feet away.
Father... Tam.
I have won, Lews Therin. I will always win.
Flicker. Flicker.
Scene followed scene, each one a picture of my death, of destruction and the end of things. And as I died over and over again, that voice repeated its infuriating refrain.
I have won again, Lews Therin.
Flicker. Flickerflickerflickerflickerfli-
Once more a symbol dominated my senses. Two brightly glowing wave-forms running parallel to each other. The sign flashed brighter than the Sun for an instant, and I could feel a blazing fire within me. Like I was channeling the light of the sun through my own being.
It was a surreal experience. The only word to describe the sensation was Ecstasy. I felt alive in a way that was totally new. But through it all I could feel a darkness tainting it, like oil on water.
And then I was well and truly awake.
I dropped from standing to my knees, which knocked painfully on the rough, weathered stone beneath me. I was breathing heavily, and a bit disoriented by the experience, but my senses were wide open.
In fact, they were superbly exact. I could feel the eddies of wind on my skin as it brushed each individual hair on my arms, and I could smell all the scents of the land, as well as my own sweat.
And I could still feel the power that coursed through me, filling me with that feeling of pure life. I wanted more of it. I instinctively reached out to draw more, and touched directly for the first time the taint that covered this power.
I reflexively threw away my connection to the power. Nauseous from the touching, I threw up violently.
What had just happened? As I pushed down my sickness and desire to puke, I wracked my mind. I had gone to sleep, and then I had those visions and now I was... where?
"What happened?" I asked myself aloud, not expecting an answer to the rhetorical question.
But I did get an answer from a woman a couple meters away, who tottered uneasily to her feet, pulling her dull brown cloak tight around her. "A surge of the One Power. It was sudden."
She walked unsteadily toward me and I met her brown eyes. She was short, obvious even when I was on my hands and knees. I had never seen her before, but at the same time I knew who she was.
Verin Mathwin.
The name rose up from somewhere within me, and I grabbed my head. That wasn't right. It was impossible.
The woman laid a hand on my shoulder and spoke softly but with force that demanded obedience. "You must learn control. That much Power could have burnt you to a cinder!"
I couldn't help it. I began to laugh. First soft chuckling and then full on laughter. It was too absurd.
My laugh sounded wrong, and my body felt weird, like it was larger than I was used to... longer. I ran my left, not dirty hand through my hair, which was short now, not long and held back in a ponytail.
"I-" I didn't know what to say. If this was what it seemed to be, then I was going to have very, very bad time ahead of me. "I suppose-"
"Don't suppose," Verin snapped. "Just listen to me, you stubborn fool!" Her voice dropped further, but lost none of its urgency.
"If the Dragon burns himself out, who will stand against the Dark One at Tarmon Gai'don?"
I drew a deep breath. All these words, the woman before me, the experience that felt like pure power flowing through me. It all pointed to one conclusion.
The Wheel of Time. A series of 14 novels written by Robert Jordan and then by Brandon Sanderson when he died. It was a series I rather liked all things considered, but I hadn't read much farther than the first four or five books since the series was finished.
And I was now in this world? No. No I wasn't.
"Where... am I?" I questioned. I could see a number of other men, and one creature that looked rather bestial moving around, clutching their heads or seeming otherwise inconvenienced."
Verin huffed, apparently not amused my not acknowledging her words.
"We've made it to Toman Head. I recognize the Portal Stone." She pointed to the rounded top of the Stone under my feet. "However..."
"However?" I was liking this less and less. This didn't feel like a dream at all. And if this was real, then I was in for very, very shitty time.
"Look at the trees," she said, gesturing to what appeared to be an oak of some description. Its leaves were yellow and orange and red. "It's late autumn now. We've lost time in coming here, about four months or so, when we meant to gain time."
She turned her stern look back to me. "You should not have tried to bring us directly here."
"I didn't-" I cut myself off. What could I say? That it wasn't me? Anything I said would sound crazy.
And if this was all real, if I had taken the place of Rand Al'thor... protests would be pointless.
She leaned in close. "You must let me help you, Rand. I cannot teach you, it is true, but perhaps I can keep you from killing yourself in trying. The world cannot afford that."
I grimaced. Rand Al'thor's fate was not one that I wanted. But I didn't really have much choice. I had to treat this as real.
Verin turned to go see to the others, the rest of the group that was hunting the Horn of Valere, an artifact of power that could call an army of Heroes that were bound to the Wheel of Time to fight for the Light. Before she stepped out of reach I lunged forward and grasped her wrist.
"I owe you an apology." I looked away, then glanced back out of the corner of my eye. I didn't want to apologize for another man's stubbornness, but she thought I was him. And if I had to live his life, then I wouldn't make his mistakes. "I'm sorry."
A small, motherly smile appeared on her face. "It is already forgiven. Now, I must see to the others."
I nodded and collapsed back onto the ground and stared into the mildly cloudy sky.
Verin Mathwin. Aes Sedai. Nominally of the Brown Ajah, but was actually a Black Sister, serving not he Light but the Dark. On the other hand, she was not a Black willingly, and ever since she had been essentially forced in she had been gathering a list of names. A list of Aes Sedai who served the Dark One.
If I could get my hands on a Binding Rod...
I shook my head. I was thinking too far ahead. What I needed to remember was the events near the end of the second book. That was what was happening now.
I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. What the hell had I just gotten into? The Wheel of Time was a massive series, with so many interweaving plots that I had no chance of remembering them all, even if I had read the whole series recently, which I hadn't.
"I walk in the Light!"
A loud voice caught my attention.
A severe looking man with his hair in a topknot was distraught, his voice frantic. Idly, I noted that I knew his name. He was Ingtar, a Shienaran soldier who was in command of the search for the Horn. "I will find the Horn. I will! And then pull down Shayol Ghul's power."
I missed Verin's words as she grasped his head.
That was when I felt it, the feeling of goosebumps all over my body. I focused on Verin, as Ingtar shuddered and drew in a sharp breath. As she released his head the goosebumps began to fade.
I blinked. I had felt her use the Power. I stepped closer as she moved on to another of the Shienarans. Once more I felt the goosebumps when she took hold of saidar, and they began to fade when she stopped.
A hand touched my shoulder and I twisted around like a startled rabbit. Behind me was a man with a mischievous look to him, nearly suppressed beneath a certain panic. That feeling in my head told me his name was Matrim Cauthon.
"I wouldn't do it Rand," he said. You must believe me. "I wouldn't betray you, I wouldn't."
I was a little startled by the vehemence in his voice. I couldn't help wondering what lives he lived due to the Portal Stone.
"I know." I didn't, but that seemed to be what he needed to hear. As I glanced around the camp once more, focusing more on the people, I found myself recalling names more and more quickly.
So I had Rand's ability to channel, and perhaps even some of his memories. When I focused on Mat or Perrin Aybara, I could occasionally recall glimpses of things that might have been old memories.
It all made me wonder how much of this body's talents I had retained. Like Rand's swordsmanship. Suddenly being unable to use the sword would be a rather great handicap.
I grasped the sword hanging from my hip and slowly drew it out. It already felt natural in my hand. I swung it around a couple of times before resheathing it. It felt like I knew how to do it, but I didn't want to rely on it.
I needed to teach myself to channel. Fast.
Verin's raised voice attracted everyone's attention. "We should head west. The larger towns on Toman Head are all to the west of here, not that there are any truly large towns. We should have little trouble finding a trace of our Darkfriends."
Ingtar spoke up. "Alright everyone, mount up. No sense wasting the daylight." He turned to the horses, muttering to himself. Somehow, I was sure he was repeating his mantra that he walked int he Light to himself.
Another Darkfriend cloaked in the guise of the Light. And a man who in the story went to his death willingly to prove that he could leave the Dark. Maybe I could save him?
In the time I had been thinking, Verin had crossed the distance to Mat and I and used her Healing on Mat, despite his protests. She reached for me and I let her, ignoring the urge to say I was fine.
Healing was an unpleasant experience. Like being doused in ice-cold water. But I felt good once the feeling had faded. I bowed my head to Verin in thanks.
I mounted the horse that I knew was mine, thankful for the instincts inherent to this body. Otherwise I would have wound up much, much more miserable than I was likely to be.
As we rode west, ever closer to a situation I wasn't sure I even wanted to be involved in, I stared at my right hand. More specifically, at the burn on the hand in the shape of a heron.
"Deep thoughts?" Verin asked as she rode up alongside me.
I looked over to her wondering what I should say. I turned my palm out to face her and recited the prophecy I was thinking on from memory.
"Twice and twice shall he be marked, twice to live and twice to die. Once the Heron to set his path, twice the Heron to name him true. Once the Dragon for remembrance lost, twice the dragon for the price he must pay."
Verin's eyes had turned serious as I recited it.
I clenched my hand into a fist, fingernails digging into the heron-shaped brand.
My voice dropped to a whisper, just loud enough for Verin to hear, and only because I was speaking directly towards her. "Only one Heron so far."
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thebrute7
Walker of the Planes
My knowledge level is set at what I could recall off the top of my head at the time I decided to update this story. Which amounts to basically everything in the first four books (which I know best and read just a month or two ago), most of the stuff in the middle books, and only general knowledge of the last books. That's a very general overview of my knowledge, since I remember some specifics and not others.
So I knew about Verin's status. The thing to remember is that until I find a way to remove her vows she is actually incapable of betraying the Black Ajah, it's one of their own Three Oaths. So I can't even tell her I am trying to help her in any way or she would be obligated to stop me somehow. Tricky situation that. But unless she gets direct orders from a fellow Black/Darkfriend/Myrdraal/etc she is trustworthy.
As for telling someone... maybe. Moiraine if anyone. But it may be best to try and pass it off as Foretelling. I don't think anyone would raise an eyebrow at the Dragon having the Foretelling. Or Dreaming or whatever.
This pretty much. I know vaguely that it involves the use of the Choedan Kal and requires channeling saidin through saidar to filter the taint into Shadar Logoth, but the specifics of the event aren't well remembered by me (the SI, not me the author). And even then it would be hard to acheive it much faster than in canon because I need the protection of at least a dozen if not more channelers, preferably all with angreal or sa'angreal, and I need at least one other male channeler to allow for the use of Callandor (and for pointing out the male Forsaken).
Yes and no. In the books, Rand's madness from channeling manifested as the insane voice of Lews Therin Telamon, the previous Dragon.
Well, knowing the Seanchan's origin isn't super helpful. I know the names of some Darkfriends, but specific names are few and far between. And even then it isn't too helpful to have a name if I don't know what he/she looks like. I remember the names of the Forsaken (at least their Forsaken names if not their old ones), some of whom may be mixed up/wrong due to faulty memory, and I know where most of them set up shop.Well, you're screwed.
But seriously, you have a few opportunities. You already know the truth about the Seanchans origin, you know the names of several dozen high level Darkfriends, you know where the various Forsaken will build their areas of influence. You know the truth of the Aiel, you know about the flaw in Culandor (apologies for spelling errors), where to find the various ter'angreal like the Key statuettes or the Bowl of Winds.
You also know that you'll basically be crowned emperor and get three smoking hot girls out to have your babies, so its not all bad.
Looking forward to seeing how this turns out. Please continue.
The truth of the Aiel is best kept hidden and well away from them. And the Bowl of the Wind... that was the thing they used to fix the weather... I think it was in Ebou Dar? That's what the SI would think anyway. And I believe its use requires the knowledge of the Atha'an Miere
...
See what I mean? The Wheel of Time is godawfully complicated. Which means my future knowledge (at least the stuff that I remember well) is limited in scope. And I have to worry about going insane myself...
Being Rand sucks, all things considered.
thebrute7
Walker of the Planes
While this is true... I actually picked him because his life kind of sucks. I wanted a setting that I couldn't get out of having bad things happen, because something I have come to realize is that I really hate writing bad things happening to characters I like. So in one sense, it is to improve myself as a writer.
But also, a lot of that shit was his fault. Sure people wanted to manipulate him, but his stubbornness and unwillingness to trust went to levels well beyond reasonable, especially with people like Moiraine and Lan, who were never doing anything but trying to help him, who were on his side 100% (technically, Moiraine would be against him if she felt he was going to go over to the Dark, but I don't know if that even counts). And he spent a lot, and I mean a LOT of time fighting the very idea of being the Dragon Reborn, despite everything, and kept running away from the very people who were trying to support him.
And the grief over the Far Dareis Mai was entirely self-inflicted.
I give you the women though. Aviendha drove me a little bit nuts, and Elayne... never got enough time with Rand for me to even care about their relationship really. Min was the only one who I felt was both likable and fleshed out.
So yeah, there's a lot of shit, but that's what will make it interesting. Hopefully. And I have room to change things. I haven't even really made a final decision on how bound to Rand's fate I actually am... so yeah.
In other news. Short update is short. But it is an update... yay.
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Two
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I looked back over my shoulder at the small town receding into the distance.
Calling it a town might have been fine when it was in its prime, but now it barely qualified as a village. Less than half of the town's population remained, and many of them were about to leave, terrified by the example that the invading Seanchan had made.
The Seanchan. The mere thought of them had me incensed. Their aristocracy was as arrogant as even the most obnoxious Aes Sedai if the books were correct. But what was enraging was the source of their power. The sul'dam, Leash Holder, the damane,Leashed One, and the a'dam, the Leash that held channelers in perpetual slavery.
It was a filthy, disgusting practice, made all the worse because of its success and practicality. The proof was in the Seanchan's success. They controlled a land approximately equal to if not greater than the combined territory of all the nations on this side of the Spine of the World.
All because of the damane. They were a weapon of incredible power, and one that could easily kill me and everyone with me as I currently was.
The townspeople had been terrified, and spoke of them in hushed whispers. They were more terrified of the channelers than they were of the beasts that the Seanchan had brought with them from the other side of the Aryth Ocean. Their descriptions of the beasts were poor, likely a little hyperbolic, but the terror was real.
And even now we were riding ever closer to their seat of power on this continent.
I tapped my horse's sides, urging it forwards and towards Verin. I drew up beside her on the outside of our column, so that there would be as much distance between us and other members of our group as possible.
The clouds were dark overhead, and occasionally we could hear a peal of thunder. It was going to rain soon, and make this ride even more miserable.
"Verin."
"Yes, Rand?"
I glanced around and leaned over slightly in the saddle.
"I would like to ask you for a favor."
She glanced at me for a moment before turning her attention back to the road. "Yes, of course. What is it?"
I paused to put together my thoughts. We were walking into a lot of danger here, and what I really needed was to learn to channel. I had already touched saidin, and if I was going to go mad like Rand, I was already doomed whether I learned or not.
I also didn't really want to spend more time than necessary on swordsmanship. If I had to kill someone, I would rather kill them with a lightning bolt than by stabbing them.
"What those people said. About the... leashed channelers." I flinched at the look she flashed me. The sudden anger in her eyes was startling, only in part because her Aes Sedai serenity was shattered. "There will be lots of them in Falme. And that's where the Horn will be, I'm sure you believe it too."
She nodded tersely. "It is likely."
"We'll need an edge if things go wrong."
And they would go wrong. I couldn't think of anything I could reasonably do to avoid the battle that was going to take place in a couple days time. The confrontation between the Seanchan and the Whitecloaks had too much momentum to stop.
"So," I continued, "I want you to help me. With channeling."
She directed her horse closer to mine. We were now riding so close together that our feet were almost touching.
"How?" She questioned. "I can't teach you any weaves."
"I know. All I want you to do is hold saidar."
"To what end?" Verin pointed back towards the village. "That is dangerous. If there is a Seanchan patrol, they could feel it."
I took a breath. "I need to learn to Shield."
Verin's eyes actually went wide at that. Perhaps shock at the idea of a man Shielding a woman.
"You understand right? If we did encounter a Seanchan patrol, could you shield more than one of their channelers?"
I glanced over at Mat and Perrin, who were looking over at Verin and I. To them I was probably acting very strangely, suddenly spending so much time speaking to Verin when I, that is to say Rand, had been making a point of avoiding Aes Sedai for months.
"And even if you could, you embracing the Source would be felt by them and they might be able to stop you in time. But I could do it without them ever knowing."
"It's a good plan. Do you have any idea how to begin?"
Taking a deep breath, I thought about it. I knew I could embrace saidin fairly easily. Rand's trick of the Flame and the Void worked well enough for me. The idea was to imagine a flame in a void, then feed all your feelings, fear, anger, hate, passion, into it. It was harder than it sounds. But when I managed it, saidin was waiting, a temptation blazing in the night, beckoning me to seize it and make it my own.
I had spent almost all my free time in the last day forcing myself to learn to seize the Power without puking or otherwise losing my control. The Dark One's taint was uniquely horrible in a different way every time I took hold of the Power. But I could do it now.
So I had to learn to use it now.
"I was thinking of trying something like a net of Spirit," I said. "Really I think it will come down to trial and error. But I want you to channel a bit of the Power so that I will be able to... feel, I guess, when I hit upon something that will try and restrict your connection."
With the sound of thunder, the rain began to fall. I let my head fall back and grimaced at the clouds above us.
"I hate the rain." I whispered to myself.
Verin seemed lost in thought. Rather than badger her, I just rode in silence. Best to let her think through whatever my request had prompted.
"I believe it will be a beneficial plan," Verin said, after perhaps four or five minutes. "And you will try to explain how you go about it."
I laughed. "You are a seeker after knowledge, aren't you?"
She turned away with a smile. "I am of the Brown Ajah after all."
That statement wiped my own smile off my face, but I put it back before Verin saw. One day, I promised myself, that statement of hers wouldn't be a lie.
I shivered involuntarily as I felt her embrace the True Source.
I imagined my Void and reached for the raging torrent that was the male half of the Power.
"Let's begin."
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thebrute7
Walker of the Planes
While you make some good, valid points, I have to pick on a few.
I just disagree about the paranoia. Rand's levels of paranoia were absurd, way higher than they had any right to be. He was paranoid about Moiraine from the very first book when he learned she was Aes Sedai, and no matter how much she helped him, no matter how many times he had to be saved by her, and no matter how clear it was that she was on his side, he fought her because she was Aes Sedai and for no other reason. And he didn't stop until book 5, and only then after he extracted an oath from her after she literally begged him to let her help him. And by then it was too late and she disappeared fighting Lanfear and saving his life again. Ungrateful ass.
While I am sure there was at least one case where his paranoia helped him, I am having trouble thinking of any off the top of my head. But I acknowledge there probably is at least one.
I concede the point about the women in the series (channelers especially) generally being some level of bitchy and/or ungrateful, save a few notable exceptions - Min and Moiraine come to mind. Verin for the most part.
The undercover agents... true. However most of them aren't serious threats directly. mostly because the Dark One explicitly instructed his people not to kill Rand, and instead cause chaos and stuff. The Dark One always wanted to break Rand, not just end him. Although the example you used doesn't really count. He deliberately let those seven Aes Sedai come to him, expecting to be able to handle them with his angeal, and then they pulled six more out of their asses and took him that way. It was caused as much by his pride and arrogance in being unwilling to not see them as by anything else.
Madness and the Power vs Sworsmanship... I just disagree entirely. Rand wasted so much time on swordsmanship when he should have been learning to channel, even after he accepted being the Dragon. And sure, he got to be a bitchin' swordsman. And then got his sword-hand burned off and it was all for naught. And all the major threats, the Forsaken, Black Ajah, Dreadlords, the Seanchan, they are all best dealt with by use of the Power.
As for the madness as it relates to my SI. It was already to late. I had touched the Power the moment I was brought here. Not learning to channel won't stop the madness, only delay it slightly at best. One of the things learned in the series, in fact it is explicitly told to us by Moiraine, is that how much a man channels has almost no correlation to their madness. There are men who go mad after only touching it once, and men who go mad only after years of channeling. I think spending my time learning to channel is the best possible use of my time.
As for how Rand's instincts affect me, and might impair my ability to do things like send women to battle, the strongest instincts are the body's reflexes and learned motions (which includes things like some of the swordsmanship). Rand's memories are like half-remembered dreams at best, and will probably be mostly limited to face->name recognition and the like. (At least for now. Rand's personality showing up in the madness is always possible) But personally, I don't think I would ahve major issues (once I get over anygeneral issues), I tend to be fairly callous and distant to anyone not my immediate family (mother/Father/Sister) or my best friend, I don't know and haven't determined what issues I would have with fighting/commanding etc. yet.
All the stuff about how hard it would be to change things... yeah. That's the hard part, and causing new problems with my actions is a guarantee. If I make things better in one way I am almost certain to make things worse/harder somewhere else.
Just idle speculation, but considering the time-frame involved to the Last Battle, it might actually be better to not use the Choedan Kal to cleanse saidin before the Last Battle, and instead use them to reseal the Bore, and only cleanse saidin after. Because cleansing saidin carries the risk of destroying the only known female key. On the other hand... it means more insane male channelers. But for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction I guess.
Although to be honest I don't recall off the top of my head what the plan to reseal the Bore was... shit. My poor SI is really fucked by that, isn't he, having to figure it out on his own. Oh well.
I'll have to make a final decision soon about Rand's Fate and how bound I am to it, but there will definitely be things that Have to happen. Like the Heron brands and Dragons, or taking up Callandor. I need to refresh myself on those type of events and decide which ones will be Necessary and what I'll be allowed to change. Because being unable to change any of it would kind of defeat the purpose wouldn't it?
I think I read those once... a while ago. Maybe.I humbly note that I wrote and completed two WoT crossovers with Ranma... but they were part of a trilogy that I admittedly gave up on.
I'm surprised we didn't see more licking of lips on Verin's part. "Shield... me? With. With Saidin? Ahm... yes. Yes I s-suppose. That would make sense. Yes it would."
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thebrute7
Walker of the Planes
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Three
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It was wet and cold, and I was miserable.
My opinion of camping, or any experience that could not be done from the comfort of at the very least a hotel room was not very high. I did do things like go camping on occasion for the benefit of my family who enjoyed it and for no other reason.
Riding a horse along an unpaved dirt track, while rain poured down from a sky so overcast that it was near impossible to determine the direction of the sun, and thus the time, was not in any way my idea of a fun time.
The rough woolen cloak that was supposedly protecting me from the rain was long since soaked from the combined efforts of three days of near continuous rain.
Glaring at everything and nothing, I pulled the hood further forward. I was bored, left with nothing to do but stare out at the land around me, which looked no different to me than the land we had been passing for days.
My thoughts turned to how I was brought here, by some quirk of fate caused by Rand's manipulation of the Portal Stone. It seemed to me that if I had taken his body, perhaps he had gone into mine.
I idly caressed the hilt of Rand's - my - sword. The thought that he might have taken my place, in a warm home with modern convenience was one I couldn't get out of my head. I hated him. It was all his fault I was here, riding towards a conflict I wanted nothing to do with, instead of lazing about on my couch, eating my mother's cooking and playing with my friends.
"Are you okay Rand?"
I tilted my head down and to the left. Perrin was riding up alongside me with Mat.
I grimaced beneath the hood. I had been avoiding them since I arrived. I didn't know how to deal with them, and they were the ones most likely to realize that I wasn't Rand.
Mat didn't have Perrin's sense of tact. "You've been acting weird." He looked to the left and right as though something would appear out of nowhere and jump him.
"Light, Rand, what did Verin say to you? The two of you have been attached at the hip for three days now."
I shrugged and tried to think of something to say. "I..."
I'm not Rand at all, I'm actually a random civilian from an entirely different civilization and probably world brought here and stuffed into this body by dumb luck. And I have no idea how to get back or return Rand.
Somehow, that didn't seem like a good idea. "I can't run away anymore."
There, a suitably vague answer that could mean anything at all. And it was true, in a sense. Trying to run away from what was happening to me like the real Rand would have wasn't something I could reasonably do.
"Can't ru-" Mat spluttered. "Run from what? The Light-forsaken Aes Sedai trying to prop you up as a false Dragon? Why shouldn't you-"
"I am the Dragon." I cut Mat off with a quiet but insistent voice.
Probably. It was almost certain at any rate.
Perrin just sat there, watching us. It was kind of unnerving, seeing a man as big and rough-looking as him quietly contemplating my and Mat's words.
"I don't know what lives you lived during our trip here, or what you learned from it-" I said, before correcting my horse's direction, which had begun to stray from our slightly haphazard column. "-but I don't have it in me to keep running from what I have to do."
I felt like a right ass, saying these things to him. Half of it was bullshit made up on the spot. I wasn't doing this out of some sense of duty, but because I knew that it was my best chance of surviving. Because if I just rejected it entirely I was absolutely certain to die a premature death, either from channeling madness, or by being hunted down by the forces of the Dark One.
So no matter how much I wanted to turn my horse around and flee, I didn't.
Mat rolled his eyes at me and nudged his horse to leave, but I directed my own to keep up with him, and spoke with a fair bit of force.
"We're one day, maybe two away from Falme and the Seanchan, Mat. And if we get in trouble trying to retrieve your dagger, I suspect you'll be grateful that I can keep their channelers from killing us."
Of course, that assumed that I figured out Shielding before we entered Falme. After two days of effort I had little to show for it. Oh, I could feel out Verin's connection to saidar, but shield it? I hadn't found a weave that worked yet.
Before Mat could respond I kicked my horse into a trot and moved up the column. When I looked back over my shoulder, Perrin had caught up to Mat and they seemed to be arguing about something. Probably me.
I sighed and picked up the pace. Verin Sedai ought to have been near the front of the column, and if I was going to figure out a Shield by tomorrow, I'd need every moment of time that could be spared. It was already dangerous for her to channel, and with every step we took it became more and more dangerous for her to even hold the Power.
I leaned my head back and let some of the cold rain splash on my face. Everything was coming to a head. Egwene was in Falme, collared like an animal, Elayne and Nynaeve had devised a plan to save her and Min. mat's Dagger and the Horn of Valere were waiting for us to retrieve them, and Padan Fain was somewhere in the city.
Removing him early would be ideal, but somehow I didn't think it would be possible. And a small war was about to break out between the Children of the Light and the Seanchan.
We were all running out of time.
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I slammed my fist on the ground in frustration.
"Why won't it work?" I vented my frustrations on the uncaring grass.
I felt so much more alive. Saidin filled me, and truth be told, if it weren't for the taint placed on the male half of the Power that would eventually drive all male channelers insane, I would have said being able to channel was worth all the discomfort I was being put through.
It scared me, at least a little. It was addictive, always there on the edge of my consciousness, just a moment away. And there was always the temptation to draw in just a little more power, to feel yet more alive.
I wasn't even thinking anymore. Nothing was working, and I needed this.
Verin's lips were moving, but I didn't hear her words. I was so angry at that invisible force that I couldn't pierce.
I had figured out on the first day of my attempts how to feel out a woman's connection to saidar. The threads of Spirit I used to feel it out would... bend around an invisible barrier.
But I couldn't pierce that barrier, no matter what I tried. It shouldn't have been that hard. I was the Dragon, the strongest male channeler in the entire series, and Verin was, while moderately strong for an Aes Sedai, nowhere near strong enough to keep me from Shielding her.
"It's just not working," I said, rubbing my forehead.
Verin settled a hand on my shoulder. "Perhaps you should try something different."
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"Like what? I don't even know what the Shield ought to look like. I'm just weaving Spirit, nearly at random, hoping to stumble across something useful!"
A fundamentally different weave.
"How do you-" I stopped mid sentence as an idea struck me.
Spirit was woven in a net around Verin's body, meeting that invisible resistance. In an instant, I tightened my hold on the weave and drew more deeply on saidin, before attempting to force that final hole in the net together. The invisible force resisted for but a moment, before the net closed, finishing the weave.
My goosebumps went away.
Verin gasped.
I blinked and looked up.
She looked suddenly frightened. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
I began to laugh. I had been going about it wrong the whole time! Everything I had been trying was like trying to slip a weave of Spirit into her connection and block it that way.
But it was a literal barrier, covering the entire person. Focusing on the point where the connection seemed to be was entirely the wrong way to go about it.
I stared at the barrier, committing everything about it to memory.
"I did it." I grinned and jumped to my feet. "I did it!"
"Y-yes. It seems so," Verin whispered. "W-would you mind?"
She made a vague motion with her hand.
Oh. Right.
I briefly contemplated trying to "tie off" the weave first, but decided against it. I'd have time for other experiments later. And if I succeeded and couldn't figure out how to untie it, I doubted Verin would be at all pleased with me.
The barrier disappeared instantly when I released saidin, and my goosebumps returned. Verin's expression calming down immediately with the return of her ability to channel.
Struck with the sudden onset of fatigue that had been buried under the exhiliration caused by holding the Power, I returned to the ground and lay back against the trunk of the oak that Verin and I had been beneath.
"Go get some sleep, Rand," Verin said. "Channeling is exhausting, and you'll want to be well rested before we try to retrieve the Horn."
"Okay." I stood up on shaky legs and made my to my tent. "Sleep well, Verin."
"Sleep well."
Three
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It was wet and cold, and I was miserable.
My opinion of camping, or any experience that could not be done from the comfort of at the very least a hotel room was not very high. I did do things like go camping on occasion for the benefit of my family who enjoyed it and for no other reason.
Riding a horse along an unpaved dirt track, while rain poured down from a sky so overcast that it was near impossible to determine the direction of the sun, and thus the time, was not in any way my idea of a fun time.
The rough woolen cloak that was supposedly protecting me from the rain was long since soaked from the combined efforts of three days of near continuous rain.
Glaring at everything and nothing, I pulled the hood further forward. I was bored, left with nothing to do but stare out at the land around me, which looked no different to me than the land we had been passing for days.
My thoughts turned to how I was brought here, by some quirk of fate caused by Rand's manipulation of the Portal Stone. It seemed to me that if I had taken his body, perhaps he had gone into mine.
I idly caressed the hilt of Rand's - my - sword. The thought that he might have taken my place, in a warm home with modern convenience was one I couldn't get out of my head. I hated him. It was all his fault I was here, riding towards a conflict I wanted nothing to do with, instead of lazing about on my couch, eating my mother's cooking and playing with my friends.
"Are you okay Rand?"
I tilted my head down and to the left. Perrin was riding up alongside me with Mat.
I grimaced beneath the hood. I had been avoiding them since I arrived. I didn't know how to deal with them, and they were the ones most likely to realize that I wasn't Rand.
Mat didn't have Perrin's sense of tact. "You've been acting weird." He looked to the left and right as though something would appear out of nowhere and jump him.
"Light, Rand, what did Verin say to you? The two of you have been attached at the hip for three days now."
I shrugged and tried to think of something to say. "I..."
I'm not Rand at all, I'm actually a random civilian from an entirely different civilization and probably world brought here and stuffed into this body by dumb luck. And I have no idea how to get back or return Rand.
Somehow, that didn't seem like a good idea. "I can't run away anymore."
There, a suitably vague answer that could mean anything at all. And it was true, in a sense. Trying to run away from what was happening to me like the real Rand would have wasn't something I could reasonably do.
"Can't ru-" Mat spluttered. "Run from what? The Light-forsaken Aes Sedai trying to prop you up as a false Dragon? Why shouldn't you-"
"I am the Dragon." I cut Mat off with a quiet but insistent voice.
Probably. It was almost certain at any rate.
Perrin just sat there, watching us. It was kind of unnerving, seeing a man as big and rough-looking as him quietly contemplating my and Mat's words.
"I don't know what lives you lived during our trip here, or what you learned from it-" I said, before correcting my horse's direction, which had begun to stray from our slightly haphazard column. "-but I don't have it in me to keep running from what I have to do."
I felt like a right ass, saying these things to him. Half of it was bullshit made up on the spot. I wasn't doing this out of some sense of duty, but because I knew that it was my best chance of surviving. Because if I just rejected it entirely I was absolutely certain to die a premature death, either from channeling madness, or by being hunted down by the forces of the Dark One.
So no matter how much I wanted to turn my horse around and flee, I didn't.
Mat rolled his eyes at me and nudged his horse to leave, but I directed my own to keep up with him, and spoke with a fair bit of force.
"We're one day, maybe two away from Falme and the Seanchan, Mat. And if we get in trouble trying to retrieve your dagger, I suspect you'll be grateful that I can keep their channelers from killing us."
Of course, that assumed that I figured out Shielding before we entered Falme. After two days of effort I had little to show for it. Oh, I could feel out Verin's connection to saidar, but shield it? I hadn't found a weave that worked yet.
Before Mat could respond I kicked my horse into a trot and moved up the column. When I looked back over my shoulder, Perrin had caught up to Mat and they seemed to be arguing about something. Probably me.
I sighed and picked up the pace. Verin Sedai ought to have been near the front of the column, and if I was going to figure out a Shield by tomorrow, I'd need every moment of time that could be spared. It was already dangerous for her to channel, and with every step we took it became more and more dangerous for her to even hold the Power.
I leaned my head back and let some of the cold rain splash on my face. Everything was coming to a head. Egwene was in Falme, collared like an animal, Elayne and Nynaeve had devised a plan to save her and Min. mat's Dagger and the Horn of Valere were waiting for us to retrieve them, and Padan Fain was somewhere in the city.
Removing him early would be ideal, but somehow I didn't think it would be possible. And a small war was about to break out between the Children of the Light and the Seanchan.
We were all running out of time.
|=====|=====|=====|
I slammed my fist on the ground in frustration.
"Why won't it work?" I vented my frustrations on the uncaring grass.
I felt so much more alive. Saidin filled me, and truth be told, if it weren't for the taint placed on the male half of the Power that would eventually drive all male channelers insane, I would have said being able to channel was worth all the discomfort I was being put through.
It scared me, at least a little. It was addictive, always there on the edge of my consciousness, just a moment away. And there was always the temptation to draw in just a little more power, to feel yet more alive.
I wasn't even thinking anymore. Nothing was working, and I needed this.
Verin's lips were moving, but I didn't hear her words. I was so angry at that invisible force that I couldn't pierce.
I had figured out on the first day of my attempts how to feel out a woman's connection to saidar. The threads of Spirit I used to feel it out would... bend around an invisible barrier.
But I couldn't pierce that barrier, no matter what I tried. It shouldn't have been that hard. I was the Dragon, the strongest male channeler in the entire series, and Verin was, while moderately strong for an Aes Sedai, nowhere near strong enough to keep me from Shielding her.
"It's just not working," I said, rubbing my forehead.
Verin settled a hand on my shoulder. "Perhaps you should try something different."
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"Like what? I don't even know what the Shield ought to look like. I'm just weaving Spirit, nearly at random, hoping to stumble across something useful!"
A fundamentally different weave.
"How do you-" I stopped mid sentence as an idea struck me.
Spirit was woven in a net around Verin's body, meeting that invisible resistance. In an instant, I tightened my hold on the weave and drew more deeply on saidin, before attempting to force that final hole in the net together. The invisible force resisted for but a moment, before the net closed, finishing the weave.
My goosebumps went away.
Verin gasped.
I blinked and looked up.
She looked suddenly frightened. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
I began to laugh. I had been going about it wrong the whole time! Everything I had been trying was like trying to slip a weave of Spirit into her connection and block it that way.
But it was a literal barrier, covering the entire person. Focusing on the point where the connection seemed to be was entirely the wrong way to go about it.
I stared at the barrier, committing everything about it to memory.
"I did it." I grinned and jumped to my feet. "I did it!"
"Y-yes. It seems so," Verin whispered. "W-would you mind?"
She made a vague motion with her hand.
Oh. Right.
I briefly contemplated trying to "tie off" the weave first, but decided against it. I'd have time for other experiments later. And if I succeeded and couldn't figure out how to untie it, I doubted Verin would be at all pleased with me.
The barrier disappeared instantly when I released saidin, and my goosebumps returned. Verin's expression calming down immediately with the return of her ability to channel.
Struck with the sudden onset of fatigue that had been buried under the exhiliration caused by holding the Power, I returned to the ground and lay back against the trunk of the oak that Verin and I had been beneath.
"Go get some sleep, Rand," Verin said. "Channeling is exhausting, and you'll want to be well rested before we try to retrieve the Horn."
"Okay." I stood up on shaky legs and made my to my tent. "Sleep well, Verin."
"Sleep well."
thebrute7
Walker of the Planes
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Four
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"Five will ride forth, she says," I muttered under my breath, which condensed before me in a little cloud. "Damn prophecies. I'd feel better if Verin had come along." I would have felt safer with another channeler along, even if she couldn't actually do anything without bringing the Seanchan down on our heads.
The port of Falme, the largest and most prosperous population on Toman Head, drew closer as we rode downhill toward the edge of town..
The five of us, myself, Perrin, Mat, Hurin and Ingtar had departed our camp, hidden in a dense thicket perhaps two miles out from the Falme, at almost first light. We were in a small hurry, events having conspired to make this the ideal time for our attempt at retrieving the Horn of Valere.
The Seanchan were soon to be confronted by hundreds of armed soldiers - the Children of the Light - coming to kill them. Of course, anyone with half a brain wold have known that such a gesture was entirely futile. The Children were going to be torn to shreds by the Seanchan damane.
But their meaningless deaths would provide a distraction that would hopefully keep the Seanchan off of us long enough to get the Horn, Mat's dagger, and ideally find and kill Padan Fain too.
Not that I had any real hope that it would be that easy.
We picketed our horses at a stable just outside of town. The plan was for us to enter Falme separately, so we wouldn't appear a suspicious group, and then meet at the first inn along the main road through town.
I was the last to leave, and before I did, I attached to my belt the bag that held the Dragon Banner. It was a beautiful thing, in bright crimson red with a sinuous golden dragon emblazoned on it. And I knew that if things turned out at all like the book, I would have need of it.
But I intended to change things. I had a plan, of sorts. But I was fairly certain I ought not rely on such things. No plan survives contact with the enemy after all.
When I walked into the town, the thing that struck me most about Falme was the smell. It was awful, almost incapacitatingly so at first. I had never really contemplated just how beautiful sewers are. The city stank of feces, both human and animal, as well as rotting fish - it was only fitting for a port, but that made it no less unbearable.
The road ahead was oddly empty, despite it being almost midday. Only a few of the townsfolk seemed to be out and about, and all of them were studiously ignoring the Seanchan.
I couldn't have missed the Seanchan even if I had been trying to. They made for an impressive sight, four soldiers carrying short spears with swords sheathed at their waists, each with a well-polished breastplate that shone when the sun's rays managed to pierce the dreary curtain of grey clouds above them. But what interested me was not the soldiers, but the pair of women being escorted by them.
It was easy to pick out which of the women was the damane, with one walking proudly in a lightning-emblazoned grey wool skirt, while beside her another woman in dull grey walked with her head down, watching the ground and never looking up, or even around.
They were walking towards me, and as they drew closer, I could more easily make out the silver collar around the damane's throat, and also the silver cord that attached the collar to the wrist of her sul'dam.
I stepped to the side of the road and lowered my eyes as the Seanchan came close. I had no desire to start anything. As they passed by, I watched the damane out of the corner of my eye. It was only after the soldiers were gone and the road had begun to fill itself with townspeople that I moved again.
I could see the leash and collar in my mind's eye. Such a powerful tool, but one that I could turn against the Seanchan if I was given a chance. Maybe.
I entered the first inn along the road and was glad to be off the street. The inside of the inn smelled of smoke and beer, and that mostly drowned out the port-town smell. Unfortunately, I was going to have to step right back outside.
Ingtar, Mat, Perrin and Hurin were in the far corner of the inn, and Ingtar nodded to me when I looked over to him.
It was time to begin our hunt.
Together we meandered our way through the bustling streets of Falme, making small talk and generally acting as inconspicuous as was possible. Ingtar had even left his armor and personal signs behind, so that we would appear to be more or less ordinary.
"It's everywhere," Hurin whispered for what seemed to be the thousandth time. "Fain's scent is all over the place. He's been everywhere in this town at some point over the last month, and day or two old scents crisscross so much I can't make out any direction to follow."
"Then we'll search harder," Ingtar ordered. "I will have the Horn before the day ends. I will!"
I said nothing. I was engrossed in my own thoughts, endlessly turning over the events of Falme as described in the Wheel of Time. All I was concerned with was surviving the day. Some of the exact details I couldn't remember. For all I knew we should have already found the place an hour ago, or not for another two hours.
Nynaeve and Elayne and Min were going to free Egwene at some point on this day. If I could find the Seanchan sul'dam's base of operations maybe I could contact them. They had a way out of town that they wouldn't be able to make, and having not just myself, but three... two and half experienced channelers would be a massive advantage.
"Let's go that way," I finally said, pointing down a secondary street. I could see that down that street was the Seanchan Lord's flag over one of the buildings. As I recalled, the Horn ought to be there, and the damane kennel was nearby too. "If Hurin can't track Fain in town, then it doesn't matter what direction we take."
Hurin brushed some stray grey hairs back from his face and grimaced. "If we can find somewhere he's been today, I may be able to track that."
"Then that's what we'll look for," Ingtar said, turning down the street I had suggested.
As we walked down the street, Mat began to get progressively more fidgety, glancing at buildings left and right.
"It's here," he whispered, just barely loud enough to make out. "I can feel it getting closer."
"The dagger?" I asked. That was a good sign that I had remembered correctly. Where we found the dagger, we would find the Horn as well.
"Yeah. I am sure it is..." His voice trailed off suddenly. "Light. What are those things?"
"Lord Rand..." Hurin spoke as well before I could turn to look. "Those are..."
In front of the huge house, topped by the Seanchan Lord's banner - a golden hawk clutching lightning bolts - there were these beasts among the guards. Large, leathery-skinned beasts that appeared nothing less than the bastard children of a very large bear and a grey-green frog. With three eyes.
I swallowed heavily. Grolm. Just one of the Seanchan's unique beasts of war. They will eat anything, even their own dead, and are difficult to put down. And grolm riders are almost a perfect counter to cavalry, since horses fear them.
"Those are-"
"Grolm, yes," I interjected.
"You know these beasts?" Ingtar asked, stopping in his tracks. Perrin and Mat were giving me curious looks. "You as well, Hurin?"
Hurin looked a little panicked.
"It was when we disappeared before Cairhien," I said, talking softly so we wouldn't be overheard. "Suffice it to say those things are vicious, and the only sure way to put one down is to put an arrow - or something - through its middle eye."
Ingtar glanced over his shoulder to stare at one of the grolm. "It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. "We are here to find the Horn, not worry about the Seanchan or their tame Shadowspawn."
"Not Shadowspawn," I corrected as we resumed walking.
Mat laughed. "As though it makes a difference. Tame monsters, tame Aes Sedai. Is there anything these Seanchan don't -"
"It's there!" Mat exclaimed, pointing at the building.
Perrin reached out and yanked his arm down.
"Don't draw attention to us," he hissed under his breath.
"It's there I tell you," Mat said again. "The dagger is in there."
Before Ingtar could make a comment about how we were here for the Horn, I spoke up. "Fain wouldn't let the dagger far from his sight. If the dagger is there, then the Horn is likely there as well."
The Shienaran just stared at the building.
"Come," he said after a while. "Hurin will see if he can smell Fain there in the last day. If so... then we'll have to search there. And do not speak about any of it until we have passed by. We do not want to alert the Seanchan to anything unusual."
As we passed slowly by the house, my attention was drawn to the house across from it. The door was open, and in the entry I could see a pair of women with lightning bolts on their skirts. And beyond I thought I saw another pair of women, at least one of whom was a sul'dam disappear down a hallway.
I felt like the building might in fact be the damane kennels, where the unfortunate women were kept and 'trained' to serve the Seanchan. But I had no way to confirm my hunch, and so put it out of my mind for now. I couldn't plan around it if I wasn't certain.
When we had gotten perhaps halfway down the street from the large house, Ingtar stopped and motioned for Hurin to speak.
"Fain's scent was all over the road in front of that House, my Lord," Hurin said. He sounded jubilant. "It was the most fresh scent yet."
Ingtar breathed in deeply. He seemed almost calm now. "Then that is where we must look. Stay here, I will go alone and look around, to find us a way in." He clenched his fist and looked me in the eye.
"The Horn is within our grasp. I will have it. No matter the cost." He turned to leave.
I grabbed his sleeve before he could.
"Don't do something stupid. I know how badly you want the Horn, Ingtar, but don't go without us." I hoped he would listen. Whenever he thought of the Horn he became frustratingly impulsive.
"We'll get the Horn, but you can't hold the Horn if you get yourself killed."
He didn't speak, just nodded tersely as he strode off, and somehow to me he seemed to look like a proper Lord, even in the torn grey wool he was wearing.
Perrin sighed and sat down on a wooden barrel, leaning back against the wall of the building, what was perhaps a warehouse of some sort.
"We don't have much choice, do we Rand?" Perrin asked, running a hand through his curly hair.
I shrugged. "I suppose not."
Perrin reminded me a lot of, well, me. He was a quiet young man, not prone to outbursts or violence, and spent a lot of time thinking before taking action.
I looked out into the street at the people milling about. "There's no sense in worrying about it. We just have to accept what comes and do what we can."
That had always been my philosophy of life. My father had once remarked that if someone offered me a thousand dollars, I would shrug my shoulders and say "sure". I had always felt that not worrying about what you can't change was a less stressful, more enjoyable way to live life.
Of course, I had never expected to be pulled across worlds into the body of a Hero in his story, and have no real choice but to try and save the world.
It was damn stressful.
Hurin was staring off the way Ingtar had gone, and Mat was-
"Shit." I cursed, breaking into a run.
Mat had for some inexplicable reason dashed across the street and was between the buildings across from us, and grasping the arm of one of four of women, two in dull grey dresses, one with a Seanchan-styled shawl over her less dull dress, and the one he had grabbed in the lightning dress of a sul'dam. As I dashed forward, I had already embraced my Void, saidin filling me to bursting.
And as I reached the middle of the street, I felt the telltale goosebumps of a woman embracing saidar.
Not knowing which of the grey-dressed ones was the damane], and in my panic, I embraced more of the One Power than I ever had before and wove as rapidly as I could, slamming Shields into place first over the woman on the left, and then the one on the right. The one on the left, whose red-gold hair had just come into view, near as not freaked out completely when I cut through her connection to the True Source.
Mat seemed to be arguing with the sul'dam, their voices overlapping each other such that I could barely make out what they were saying, but when I got close, I realized what had happened. The faces of these women were familiar to those vague memories in my head that seemed to be all that remained of Rand Al'Thor in this body.
Elayne. Nynaeve. Egwene. Min.
"Oh, god damn it!" I cursed, suddenly and louder than I had intended. Four pairs of female eyes turned on to me.
Just my luck.
Four
|=====|=====|=====|
"Five will ride forth, she says," I muttered under my breath, which condensed before me in a little cloud. "Damn prophecies. I'd feel better if Verin had come along." I would have felt safer with another channeler along, even if she couldn't actually do anything without bringing the Seanchan down on our heads.
The port of Falme, the largest and most prosperous population on Toman Head, drew closer as we rode downhill toward the edge of town..
The five of us, myself, Perrin, Mat, Hurin and Ingtar had departed our camp, hidden in a dense thicket perhaps two miles out from the Falme, at almost first light. We were in a small hurry, events having conspired to make this the ideal time for our attempt at retrieving the Horn of Valere.
The Seanchan were soon to be confronted by hundreds of armed soldiers - the Children of the Light - coming to kill them. Of course, anyone with half a brain wold have known that such a gesture was entirely futile. The Children were going to be torn to shreds by the Seanchan damane.
But their meaningless deaths would provide a distraction that would hopefully keep the Seanchan off of us long enough to get the Horn, Mat's dagger, and ideally find and kill Padan Fain too.
Not that I had any real hope that it would be that easy.
We picketed our horses at a stable just outside of town. The plan was for us to enter Falme separately, so we wouldn't appear a suspicious group, and then meet at the first inn along the main road through town.
I was the last to leave, and before I did, I attached to my belt the bag that held the Dragon Banner. It was a beautiful thing, in bright crimson red with a sinuous golden dragon emblazoned on it. And I knew that if things turned out at all like the book, I would have need of it.
But I intended to change things. I had a plan, of sorts. But I was fairly certain I ought not rely on such things. No plan survives contact with the enemy after all.
When I walked into the town, the thing that struck me most about Falme was the smell. It was awful, almost incapacitatingly so at first. I had never really contemplated just how beautiful sewers are. The city stank of feces, both human and animal, as well as rotting fish - it was only fitting for a port, but that made it no less unbearable.
The road ahead was oddly empty, despite it being almost midday. Only a few of the townsfolk seemed to be out and about, and all of them were studiously ignoring the Seanchan.
I couldn't have missed the Seanchan even if I had been trying to. They made for an impressive sight, four soldiers carrying short spears with swords sheathed at their waists, each with a well-polished breastplate that shone when the sun's rays managed to pierce the dreary curtain of grey clouds above them. But what interested me was not the soldiers, but the pair of women being escorted by them.
It was easy to pick out which of the women was the damane, with one walking proudly in a lightning-emblazoned grey wool skirt, while beside her another woman in dull grey walked with her head down, watching the ground and never looking up, or even around.
They were walking towards me, and as they drew closer, I could more easily make out the silver collar around the damane's throat, and also the silver cord that attached the collar to the wrist of her sul'dam.
I stepped to the side of the road and lowered my eyes as the Seanchan came close. I had no desire to start anything. As they passed by, I watched the damane out of the corner of my eye. It was only after the soldiers were gone and the road had begun to fill itself with townspeople that I moved again.
I could see the leash and collar in my mind's eye. Such a powerful tool, but one that I could turn against the Seanchan if I was given a chance. Maybe.
I entered the first inn along the road and was glad to be off the street. The inside of the inn smelled of smoke and beer, and that mostly drowned out the port-town smell. Unfortunately, I was going to have to step right back outside.
Ingtar, Mat, Perrin and Hurin were in the far corner of the inn, and Ingtar nodded to me when I looked over to him.
It was time to begin our hunt.
Together we meandered our way through the bustling streets of Falme, making small talk and generally acting as inconspicuous as was possible. Ingtar had even left his armor and personal signs behind, so that we would appear to be more or less ordinary.
"It's everywhere," Hurin whispered for what seemed to be the thousandth time. "Fain's scent is all over the place. He's been everywhere in this town at some point over the last month, and day or two old scents crisscross so much I can't make out any direction to follow."
"Then we'll search harder," Ingtar ordered. "I will have the Horn before the day ends. I will!"
I said nothing. I was engrossed in my own thoughts, endlessly turning over the events of Falme as described in the Wheel of Time. All I was concerned with was surviving the day. Some of the exact details I couldn't remember. For all I knew we should have already found the place an hour ago, or not for another two hours.
Nynaeve and Elayne and Min were going to free Egwene at some point on this day. If I could find the Seanchan sul'dam's base of operations maybe I could contact them. They had a way out of town that they wouldn't be able to make, and having not just myself, but three... two and half experienced channelers would be a massive advantage.
"Let's go that way," I finally said, pointing down a secondary street. I could see that down that street was the Seanchan Lord's flag over one of the buildings. As I recalled, the Horn ought to be there, and the damane kennel was nearby too. "If Hurin can't track Fain in town, then it doesn't matter what direction we take."
Hurin brushed some stray grey hairs back from his face and grimaced. "If we can find somewhere he's been today, I may be able to track that."
"Then that's what we'll look for," Ingtar said, turning down the street I had suggested.
As we walked down the street, Mat began to get progressively more fidgety, glancing at buildings left and right.
"It's here," he whispered, just barely loud enough to make out. "I can feel it getting closer."
"The dagger?" I asked. That was a good sign that I had remembered correctly. Where we found the dagger, we would find the Horn as well.
"Yeah. I am sure it is..." His voice trailed off suddenly. "Light. What are those things?"
"Lord Rand..." Hurin spoke as well before I could turn to look. "Those are..."
In front of the huge house, topped by the Seanchan Lord's banner - a golden hawk clutching lightning bolts - there were these beasts among the guards. Large, leathery-skinned beasts that appeared nothing less than the bastard children of a very large bear and a grey-green frog. With three eyes.
I swallowed heavily. Grolm. Just one of the Seanchan's unique beasts of war. They will eat anything, even their own dead, and are difficult to put down. And grolm riders are almost a perfect counter to cavalry, since horses fear them.
"Those are-"
"Grolm, yes," I interjected.
"You know these beasts?" Ingtar asked, stopping in his tracks. Perrin and Mat were giving me curious looks. "You as well, Hurin?"
Hurin looked a little panicked.
"It was when we disappeared before Cairhien," I said, talking softly so we wouldn't be overheard. "Suffice it to say those things are vicious, and the only sure way to put one down is to put an arrow - or something - through its middle eye."
Ingtar glanced over his shoulder to stare at one of the grolm. "It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. "We are here to find the Horn, not worry about the Seanchan or their tame Shadowspawn."
"Not Shadowspawn," I corrected as we resumed walking.
Mat laughed. "As though it makes a difference. Tame monsters, tame Aes Sedai. Is there anything these Seanchan don't -"
"It's there!" Mat exclaimed, pointing at the building.
Perrin reached out and yanked his arm down.
"Don't draw attention to us," he hissed under his breath.
"It's there I tell you," Mat said again. "The dagger is in there."
Before Ingtar could make a comment about how we were here for the Horn, I spoke up. "Fain wouldn't let the dagger far from his sight. If the dagger is there, then the Horn is likely there as well."
The Shienaran just stared at the building.
"Come," he said after a while. "Hurin will see if he can smell Fain there in the last day. If so... then we'll have to search there. And do not speak about any of it until we have passed by. We do not want to alert the Seanchan to anything unusual."
As we passed slowly by the house, my attention was drawn to the house across from it. The door was open, and in the entry I could see a pair of women with lightning bolts on their skirts. And beyond I thought I saw another pair of women, at least one of whom was a sul'dam disappear down a hallway.
I felt like the building might in fact be the damane kennels, where the unfortunate women were kept and 'trained' to serve the Seanchan. But I had no way to confirm my hunch, and so put it out of my mind for now. I couldn't plan around it if I wasn't certain.
When we had gotten perhaps halfway down the street from the large house, Ingtar stopped and motioned for Hurin to speak.
"Fain's scent was all over the road in front of that House, my Lord," Hurin said. He sounded jubilant. "It was the most fresh scent yet."
Ingtar breathed in deeply. He seemed almost calm now. "Then that is where we must look. Stay here, I will go alone and look around, to find us a way in." He clenched his fist and looked me in the eye.
"The Horn is within our grasp. I will have it. No matter the cost." He turned to leave.
I grabbed his sleeve before he could.
"Don't do something stupid. I know how badly you want the Horn, Ingtar, but don't go without us." I hoped he would listen. Whenever he thought of the Horn he became frustratingly impulsive.
"We'll get the Horn, but you can't hold the Horn if you get yourself killed."
He didn't speak, just nodded tersely as he strode off, and somehow to me he seemed to look like a proper Lord, even in the torn grey wool he was wearing.
Perrin sighed and sat down on a wooden barrel, leaning back against the wall of the building, what was perhaps a warehouse of some sort.
"We don't have much choice, do we Rand?" Perrin asked, running a hand through his curly hair.
I shrugged. "I suppose not."
Perrin reminded me a lot of, well, me. He was a quiet young man, not prone to outbursts or violence, and spent a lot of time thinking before taking action.
I looked out into the street at the people milling about. "There's no sense in worrying about it. We just have to accept what comes and do what we can."
That had always been my philosophy of life. My father had once remarked that if someone offered me a thousand dollars, I would shrug my shoulders and say "sure". I had always felt that not worrying about what you can't change was a less stressful, more enjoyable way to live life.
Of course, I had never expected to be pulled across worlds into the body of a Hero in his story, and have no real choice but to try and save the world.
It was damn stressful.
Hurin was staring off the way Ingtar had gone, and Mat was-
"Shit." I cursed, breaking into a run.
Mat had for some inexplicable reason dashed across the street and was between the buildings across from us, and grasping the arm of one of four of women, two in dull grey dresses, one with a Seanchan-styled shawl over her less dull dress, and the one he had grabbed in the lightning dress of a sul'dam. As I dashed forward, I had already embraced my Void, saidin filling me to bursting.
And as I reached the middle of the street, I felt the telltale goosebumps of a woman embracing saidar.
Not knowing which of the grey-dressed ones was the damane], and in my panic, I embraced more of the One Power than I ever had before and wove as rapidly as I could, slamming Shields into place first over the woman on the left, and then the one on the right. The one on the left, whose red-gold hair had just come into view, near as not freaked out completely when I cut through her connection to the True Source.
Mat seemed to be arguing with the sul'dam, their voices overlapping each other such that I could barely make out what they were saying, but when I got close, I realized what had happened. The faces of these women were familiar to those vague memories in my head that seemed to be all that remained of Rand Al'Thor in this body.
Elayne. Nynaeve. Egwene. Min.
"Oh, god damn it!" I cursed, suddenly and louder than I had intended. Four pairs of female eyes turned on to me.
Just my luck.