Authors Note: I was growing bored waiting for A Memory of Light to come out and remembered this wonderful website. After my craving for WoT reading was sated I decided to write my own. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: The Wheel of Time belongs to Robert Jordan.
A wind howled down the slopes of the Spine of the World, losing strength as it reached Chaendaer, and plunged through the mists of Rhuidean. It continued on through the maze of streets of the abandoned city before exiting the mists and continuing on toward the encamped Aiel tents outside. Before it, two men sat on a hill, staring at the floating city in the clouds. One of the men smiled as the wind reached them, enjoying the short coolness it brought. The other, a stone faced man with red hair, just sat there. He gave no sign of the short respite to the days heat nor acknowledged the change in his friends mood.
Mat Cauthon threw his head back with a grateful smile. There was a cool breeze coming from the ruins of Rhuidean. It was nearing noon and the heat of the Aiel Waste was soon to reach it's peak. He opened the top of his shirt and loosened a black scarf he had found from around his neck to feel more of the wind. There were some scars you could proudly boast to the world. The one along his neck, from where he was hung not a week past, was not one of them. He absently fingered the silver medallion hanging on a leather thong from his neck at the memory. It was cool to his touch. As soon as the wind was gone so was the the coldness from the medallion. He gave a short sigh as the heat returned.
Mat turned his head to look at Rand. His friend was changing. Light! They were all changing. Perrin was no longer the quiet blacksmith apprentice of Emond's Field. Those strong arms from pounding iron all day were now used for wielding his deadly axe, or wrapped around that strange Saldean, Faile, if she'd let him. He still couldn't imagine how Perrin had found himself a girl in their travels. Then there was Rand, the bloody Dragon Reborn. His childhood friend of all people! The once tall smiling redhead was now a stone faced stranger. Well not a stranger but he was getting farther and farther from the Rand he once knew. They were all different than when they left Emond's Field. Even himself.
He reached down and picked up his odd spear and laid it across his lap. It was a black spear, nearly as tall as him, with a two foot sword blade instead of a tip. The sword blade was slightly curved with two ravens engraved on it. On the haft of the spear two more ravens were inlaid in a metal even darker than the wood. His fingers ran along the inscription in that metal:
"Thus is our treaty written; thus is agreement made.
Thought is the arrow of time; memory never fades.
What was asked is given. The price is paid."
Mat chuckled to himself. Those bloody snakes and foxes were going to pay one day. His head still pounded at him even after that vile drink the Wise Ones had given him earlier started to take effect. His memories were still a bit patchy but one thing stood clear among the jumble in his head. He could understand the Old Tongue. Not just the few words he spouted out now and then, but all of it. The words on his spear, something he was sure Rand couldn't read, stood out clear as the sign of an inn. Something had happened to him in that insufferable city. Something he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Shaking his head, Mat used the end of the spear to stand up. The Aiel behind him were busy packing and readying to leave Rhuidean. Slightly behind them a group of Maidens waited for Rand, for their Car'a'carn, to join them. White dressed gai'shan were putting tents away and packing mules. They were a strange lot. Mat could swear they were Aiel, but no Aiel would hold themselves the way they did, with eyes downcast and obeying any order given. The Aiel were strange, that was all there was to it.
Hesitating slightly, Mat turned to Rand. He was still staring at Rhuidean. There was a foreboding cast to Rand, as if he was debating something he had to do, but didn't want to. With a sigh, Rand bobbed his head in an nod, and stood up. I guess he's made his decision already. Well I have too.
As Rand moved past him, Mat grabbed his coat sleeve, and looked at his friend. "I'm leaving, Rand. When you and the Aiel move to Al'cair Dal I'll go back across the Spine. I mean to put as many miles between me and the Aiel-any Aiel-as Pips can cover." It was still a far ride to the Janaai Pass but Pips was a sturdy horse. With half the day left he could get a fair distance from the rest of the Aiel.
"I will be sorry to see you go," Rand said quietly.
"Don't try to talk me out of-" Mat blinked. "That's it? You'll be sorry to see me go?"
"I've never tried to make you stay, Mat. Perrin went when he had to, so can you."
Mat opened his mouth, about to say something, then closed it again. Rand had never tried to make him stay, true. There was just something there that kept him from leaving. Probably that bloody ta'veren pulling lesser ta'veren that Moiraine always talked about. Well there was nothing tugging at him, now, no odd feeling telling him to stay. If he was going to do this it had to be now or he'd get pulled in again.
"Where will you go?"
"North." Not like there was any other way out of the Waste. All the passes out of this dreaded land were up north. He had talked to some Maidens earlier about where the passes were. A few days ride would see him to the Jangaai Pass and into Cairhien, or if he wanted to stay in this bloody heat longer, he could travel to the Niamh Pass and into Shienar. "This isn't for me, Rand. I'm a gambler for Lights sake! I belong in an inn or tavern with a game of dice, a mug of ale in my hand, and a lass in my lap." He'd thought of coaxing some of the Maidens into his lap, but after that first game of Maiden's Kiss, any thoughts of cuddling the Aiel were gone. He'd been lucky this morning. He left the group of Maidens he had asked about the passes just as the hateful game was brought up.
Rand nodded, and for a second Mat thought he saw the side of his lips curve in a smile. But it was gone as fast as it had appeared. "You could try saying goodbye to Egwene. I'm not sure if she wants to be Aes Sedai or a Wise One anymore. Probably both!"
"She'd not miss me at all. Out of all of us she's changed the most. Emond's Field is just a place to her now."
"Maybe," Rand said sadly. "The Light shine on you, Mat," He added, sticking out his hand, "and send you smooth roads, fair weather and pleasant company until we meet again." Rand turned his head toward the Aiel camp and called out. "Rhuarc!" A tall muscular man with dark red hair and a touch of gray made his way to Rand. "Mat will be leaving the Three-Fold Land today. Could you have some Aiel go with him. Only as far as the Jengaai Pass."
"I see you, Car'a'carn," Rhuarc bellowed in a deep baritone. He was the clan chief to the Taardad Aiel, as well as the leader of the Aiel that stormed the Stone of Tear, penetrating the impenetrable fortress. "Urien, of the Two Spires sept of the Reyn Aiel, a Red Shield, has voiced his urge to return to the Wetlands. There are many a strange thing to see there that he has not. As Mat Cauthon is your near brother, I am sure some Maidens will be glad to go along as well." Behind them Mat could see the Maidens stare daggers at the older man. One of them flashed a few signs with her hand and they all laughed.
"Well thanks Rand," Mat shot his friend a heated look. "I said I wanted to be away from all these bloody Aiel and you flaming stick them with me!"
"You know as well as I, Mat, no one is allowed through the Waste other than peddlers and gleeman. As soon as another group of Aiel find you alone they'd strip you of your belongings and send you back over the Spine of the World naked and with a single bag of water. At least this way you'll make it across safely."
Mat ignored Rand and stomped off to his horse, Pips. He had packed everything in the morning and a male gai'shan was holding Pips reins waiting. He nimbly jumped into his saddle and put the butt of his spear into his stirrup like a lance. Mat couldn't figure out how he knew that, but it felt right. With one quick glance over the camp he pushed Pips into a quick trot north. Behind him three Aiel followed.
End Note: A lot of the dialogue came from TFoH, ch 42 "Before the Arrow." It is one of my favorite chapters and the way it described Mat's departure couldn't be better. So I added it to here.