A strong wind gusted across the Caralain Grasslands. Once vibrant with a dozen shades green vegetation, now the Grasslands were no more than dirt and stone. An abandoned farmhouse, single roomed, and half collapsed provided little protection from the heat, or the wind.
Andon Kain tightened his scarf around his face, scowling against the dust that irritated his eyes. His hand reached up to idly rub the silver sword pin on his right collar. He firmly stopped himself as soon as he noticed the action. But it was only a few moments later that his hand returned to the pin.
He felt it an instant before he could hear, or see it.
A snap-hiss and a silver line of light cut through the wind a short distance from where he stood. It expanded into a gateway through which he saw a different place: a large manor and a dark wall behind it – an instant before it closed behind three black-clad men.
Three! One he could handle, perhaps two even. But three was beyond his ability. Reluctantly, he released the chaos and joy that was saidin.
He strode forward to meet the three black-clad men and perhaps his death.
Of the three – two he knew.
Neale Tromwin was a tall, whip-thin man who seemed to always be sneering through his thin moustache. He wore the gold and red dragon pin that signified his full Asha'man rank. Dearik Brourn slouched just behind Neale, his crumpled black clothes in stark contrast to Neale's crisp and perfectly pressed shirt and pants. Andon felt some satisfaction that Dearik still wore neither the Dedicated sword nor Ashaman dragon pins.
The third man was a mystery to him – light blond hair, middle aged, with the straight backed bearing of a career soldier. He wore black pants and shirt – the same as the other two Asha'man, a sword was strapped to his side, there were no pins on his collar.
Andon saluted - fist to heart – and tried to ignore the subtle temptation he felt from saidin. He could feel it pulsing at the edges of his vision, throbbing between each exhalation of breath he took.
"Always on time, Andon," remarked Neale. "Truly, one could never deny your dedication".
Andon clenched his fists at his sides – the only sign he showed, even as Dearik sniggered, loudly.
He tried to focus on the flame, but still felt tense.
"You have orders?" Andon asked.
"The M'hael bid me to tell you he is pleased with your progress. Almost a dozen new Soldiers' with the ability in such a short space is remarkable". Neale's tone suggested he thought it was anything but.
"Please, send the M'hael my thanks." Andon said.
"Nonetheless, the M'hael is disappointed that you still decline his invitation. Few are offered the honour of being trained by the M'hael himself, let alone refuse!" Neale said.
"Tarmon Gaidon is coming…" Andon said. "I can be of more use bringing men who can learn to the Black Tower. A dozen spears are better than one sword."
"Only a bloody fool, or a traitor, would dare refuse the M'hael!" exclaimed Dearik. "And both end up with their head on a pike".
Neale silenced him with a look. "The M'Hael has orders."
Andon waited, the temptation of saidar almost burning him now. He felt goose bumps all over and sweat poured down his back – his face remained blank.
Concentrate on the flame.
"The M'hael orders you to travel to Chachin immediately." Said Neale,"He has detailed his instructions here". Neale handed a sealed scroll to Andon. "This Soldier will accompany you."
The third man, who had kept quiet until now, stepped forward and saluted Neale, then Andon.
Andon stared at the unknown man and back at Neale. "Kandor is an unusual place to be sent to – I heard rumours the Borderlands had been abandoned by their armies?"
"You got your orders." Dearik snapped.
"Silence!" Neale said. Dearik, rubbed a knuckle to his forehead, but remained quiet. Neale turned back to Andon. "Dedicated, you will do simply as your instructions state."
"Yes, Asha'man." Andon saluted. "May the Light guide and protect the Dragon who watches over us."
Neale stared at him a moment. "Glory to the M'hael", he sneered. Then turned and marched away.
The glow of saidin surrounded Dearik and who wove a gateway.
A moment later and it snapped shut behind them leaving Andon alone with the unknown Soldier; and the wind and the dirt.
Andon let out a long sigh that was swallowed in the hot wind.
One he could handle.
He seized saidin.