Summery: Centuries after the Dragon Reborn and all his legends are dead, the Source still exists in men and women - the Asha'men and their Black Tower, and the Aes Sedai in their White Tower. A young woman, gifted with theTalent ofForesight, may also possess another, more deadly, power unknown to anyone in the Ages...To rein in this threat, the two Towers and their enemies must learn to cooperate if they have any hope of surviving the oncoming battle, and the war that now ravages their world.
Warning: An AU, this takes Aes Sedai and Asha'men into a future world, where modern science and the Source go hand-in-hand.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Wheel of Time, but I do own ALL characters and the plot.
This is my first fanfiction based on a book, and the first one of its kind, if I can say so. I've completed the ten Wheel of Time books, and plan on continuing to read Robert Jorden. Instead of basing my story in the past, however, I decided to try to wonder what would happen if Aes Sedai and Asha'men still existed today. The things my sleep-deprived mind can think of...well, this is just a trial chapter. If it's bad, I won't post more. If it's interesting, let me know!
Please review if you read, regardless whether you like it or nor. No reviews is worse than bad ones, in my opinion. Ideas, suggestions, commens, and helpful criticism is gladly welcome. However, no swearing or excessive rudeness.
"Did you have another dream?" Noela asked sympathetically, hearing her friend wake up with a gasp. Nineteen year-old Calla nodded in the dark, a thin sheen of sweat on her body.
"Yeah," she tapped the bottom of the bunk above her, where Noela was laying. "Can't sleep?"
"No – you were talking in your sleep and I woke up," her friend, almost two years younger, leaned her head over to catch a glimpse of the other young woman. "You getting up already? We've still got a few hours of sleep, you know."
"I can never go back to sleep after a dream like that," Calla sighed, sitting up and promptly banging her head on the baseboard. "Damn!" she hissed, careful not to wake their other two roommates. Birgitte, a golden-haired beauty of twenty, shifted in her sleep after mumbling something, while brunette Anne, six months younger than Calla, merely rolled over onto her stomach. "I'm just going to wander around for a while. I'll eat an early breakfast and get a head start."
"Whatever. Want me to come with you?" Noela, her brown hair almost black, asked with concern. The two girls had been best friends for almost thirteen years, and were closer than sisters.
"Yeah. Get some sleep," Calla ordered quietly, slipping into her uniform. The four girls all worked at the Palace, one of the many hotels in a chain business, and boarded there as well in back rooms used for storage as well. Brigitte never told them much about her, but Calla and Noela had left their town, ravished by war, to find jobs, and Anne had been sent to make her own way in the world by her father.
"All right," the girl rolled over on her back and fell asleep before Calla even managed to get out of the room.
"Dreams…that's all they are, dreams," she muttered to herself, walking the halls. Not many guests were up so early except a few businessmen, who paid little attention to her as she passed by. Her dark golden-chestnut was in a twist at the nape of her neck, and her marine-green eyes were set in a palely-tanned face. Rubbing her eyes briefly, Calla took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Ever since her premonition of the attack on their town, she had been wary of dreams as clear as this one, most of which predicted dire circumstances for someone close to her.
Smoothing her gray-blue skirt in agitation, her matching blouse wrinkled as she stretched briefly. A black belt was around her waist where the black buttons ended, and black short heels were on her stocking-clad feet. Calla mainly worked as a server and room service, but occasionally filled in for absent or busy maids throughout the hotel. She didn't mind, needing the extra money. Noela worked as a full-time maid, while Birgitte was stationed in the kitchens and Anne was on the crew that cleaned rooms.
Feeling her stomach rumble, she grinned ruefully to herself and headed toward the kitchens, were the staff ate before the scheduled breakfast. Sure enough, there were several waiters already in there, while the cook, Johnson, worked over the stoves.
"You're up early," he grunted, noticing her entrance.
"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged, and ambled over to an empty counter space. "Got anything decent?"
"Of course," he replied, and slid down a plate with bacon, eggs, and toast on it. Orange juice soon followed, and she quickly caught the glass before it spilt onto her food. "Eat up – you look a little pale."
"You feeling okay, Calla?" one of the waiters, Brad, called over. She waved back without replying, and dug into her food with gusto. The staff was all on friendly terms, except for a few people that avoided their coworkers for whatever reason they had. "Just don't get sick – we've got enough people out already," he joked, returning to his own breakfast. She rolled her eyes but kept quiet, concentrating on driving the dream out of her head.
"Morning!" Birgitte called, swaying into the room. Just over six feet, her golden hair hung in a braid to her waist, and her eyes were a dark violet. Her figure was curvy without being showy, and although she knew she was attractive and sometimes acted like a flirt, Calla didn't know anyone more down-to-earth than her new friend. "So, couldn't sleep?" she noticed, seeing Calla. "I saw you were gone, and figured you'd be down here. Yo, Johnson, I'm starving here!"
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, secretly pleased that there were people to serve. The man's passion was cooking, and none of them had ever tasted anything better than their cook's food.
"Took you long enough," she grinned, taking the offered plate and sitting on a stool next to Calla. Working in the kitchens for almost as long as Calla had been there, almost a year, the tall woman wore black shoes, blue-gray pants, and a matching T-shirt with a long white apron over it. Shooting a teasing grin at her friend, Birgitte eagerly dug into her plate, while Calla shook her head in amazement.
"You're unbelievable," she commented, propping her chin in her palm. "Where're Noela and Anne?"
"Sleeping, I think," Birgitte mumbled, barely taking her eyes off her plate. Calla also didn't know anyone less feminine at times than the tall woman, but she assumed that came from height. "Last I saw, at least."
"Did I wake you?" Calla asked, finishing off her own food.
"Not really," the other young woman shrugged, draining her glass. "Just a bit, but I'm a light sleeper anyway."
"It seems you can run three days on two hours of sleep, sometimes," Calla sighed, her own sleep less-than-satisfactory lately.
"It's a gift," Birgitte shrugged, sighing deeply in contentment. "Hey, Johnson, food was crappy as usual."
"I'm so glad it was to your satisfaction," he replied dryly, ignoring her as usual. "What about you, Calla?"
"It was horrid. I could barely choke it down," she replied calmly, and he grinned.
"Good. I wouldn't want to lose my touch."
"Yo, we got some guests arriving!" another waiter called back into the kitchen, "Let's get to work, you slackers!"
"Who're you calling a slacker?" Brad demanded, and Calla shrugged helplessly as she followed her coworkers out. Birgitte tied her apron on securely and armed herself with a spatula.
"Where're ya want me to start, boss?"
"We've got some new people in this morning," Aaron, the waiter in charge, told them quietly. "I think they're all together, even though they came separately. Calla, you take tables Three and Eight – Brad, One and Two as usual. Nick, you and Greg split the rest up once people start coming in. I'll run orders to Johnson."
"Gotcha," Calla and the others mock-saluted, as was their habit each morning, before dispersing to their assignments. The high ceilings had crystal chandeliers hanging over each table, and the red carpet was set off by the gold-embossed walls and painted ceiling. She began to walk over to one of the tables were people were at, and suddenly froze in her tracks. A woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, was sitting calmly, while three other men looked through their menus. The woman was dressed in all varying shades of green, and her dark-blond hair that fell in curls and brown eyes were set off by the colors. All the men, of varying ages, were in solid black, some relieved only by a silver pin on their collars.
"Who're they? You look like you want to be sick," Greg whispered, coming up behind her.
"Uh…it's nothing," she lied. "I've just never seen people like them before."
"Aren't they Asha'men?" Nick added, passing by with a tray and pad. "The men who can control the Source with their will?"
"Yeah, that looks like 'em," Greg nodded in recognition, and suddenly pushed her lightly in the small of her back. "Get going – we may as well put on a good show for 'em. Don't want to piss 'em of, of course."
"Of course," she repeated, and strode over to the table, looking more confident than she felt. "Good morning," she said cheerfully, avoiding looking any of them in the eye. She focused on the woman's dress for a moment, but began to feel seasick. "Are you ready to order, or would you just like your drinks for now?"
"I'll just have water, please," the woman said coolly, but something in her tone revealed that she wasn't a harsh person.
"Number three for me," one of the men told her, and the other nodded in agreement. Marking it on her pad, she waited for the last man to order, and noticed with surprise that they were watching her intently.
"Um…will that be all?" she asked finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
"Number one," the last man said finally, and she wrote it down in relief. Striding away from the table she headed toward Aaron and passed him the slip.
"We've got people coming in, so get to work," he said, and she nodded in acceptance. To her relief, the other Asha'men were seated at tables other than hers, but four women who looked to be together with them were at her other table.
"Daamn…" she sighed, but shrugged it off. "Good morning. Would you –"
"I'll have a number four, miss," one of the woman, in stark white with some silver, said sharply. Taking it in stride, Calla turned to the others. One wore blue, another yellow, and the last was in brown – all the shades varying, but obviously in the same color range.
"Same for us, please," the one in brown said absently, not really seeming to know what she was saying. The blue one shook her head in amusement, while the yellow handed her the menus.
"Please make it quick – we have to be somewhere," the yellow one added, and Calla nodded.
"I'll do my best, ma'm," she said, and rushed toward Aaron. "Get it there quick – they said they have to go somewhere," she told him quietly, and he nodded.
"Johnson'll work his magic, don't worry. Three's up, by the way," he added, nodding toward a laden-down tray on the bar counter. She braced herself for the load, and with experience hefted it up as she made her way to the table with three Asha'men and the woman in green.
"Here are your orders," she said, passing the plates out.
"Thank you, miss," the green one said, not unkindly, but Calla flinched all the same. Whisking the empty tray away, she hurried to the counter to wait until the other table's orders were done.
"Those women in colors must be Aes Sedai," Birgitte thought, glancing over her shoulder at her friend. "They and the Asha'men work rarely together, I've heard. After all, the Source is in two Powers – one female, and one male. I guess putting their powers together for the war has got to do something."
"Yeah. Aren't there seven Ajah?" Calla asked, looking around the room. Asha'men were scattered around the room, and two other woman as well, in red and gray respectively.
"Yeah – Brown, Yellow, Green, Blue, Red, Gray, and White," Birgitte replied without turning around again. "The Tower is split into those seven Ajahs, and each group specializes in using the Source in a particular way, but they're all under the command of the Tower, their central place of coordination. The Asha'men have a Tower as well now, I've heard. I wonder what a Sister of one of each Ajah is doing here, as well as so many Asha'men. Do they think someone will attack the Palace or something?"
"Who knows?" Nick shrugged, stepping into the conversation with ease.
"Number eight's up, Calla," Johnson interrupted, handing her the tray. She grasped it firmly and weaved her way around the now-crowded dining room, where all the servers were now present and working hard as usual.
"Here you are," she said, distributing the plates. The woman in brown looked startled by her appearance, and the one in blue nodded calmly.
"Thank you, miss. We'll call if we require anything else," she said, and Calla nodded respectively.
"None of the Sisters looks older than mid-twenties," she thought, checking the room to make sure no one needed help before moving to the wall again. "I wonder if that's a side-effect of touching the Source?"
"Hey, snap out of it!" Greg snapped his fingers in front of her face, and she jumped up. "Table three looks like they want you back."
"All right," she muttered, striding over to the table and trying to maintain her calm appearance, sure that they could see through it anyway. "Yes? I'm sorry for not coming sooner."
"Oh, that's all right," the woman in green smiled cheerfully at her. "I was just wondering if I could have some eggs."
"Of course ma'm," Calla scribbled it down on her pad, wondering whether she should address the woman as Sister or not, since she wasn't in customary Aes Sedai garb. "I'll be back in a moment. How would you like them?"
"It doesn't matter – over-easy, I suppose," she thought, and Calla nodded.
"Was that the woman?" an Asha'man asked, as Calla strode away from their table. The Green nodded impatiently, with a glance toward her Bonded Asha'man, Jaib.
"Yes – Calla Maher," she told them quietly. "Apparently, she has the Talent of Foretelling – a rare gift that only one in thousands of Sisters may have. We're to remain here until she has been convinced to return to the Tower with us, and to ward off any attacks that may occur as a result."
"I see," the man leaned back, apparently satisfied with the Green's response. Although the two factions worked together in the war effort, the Aes Sedai and Asha'men were under two different Towers, and neither side forgot that the other was an unnamed enemy as well.
"However, this doesn't explain why a Sister from each Ajah was sent here, along with Asha'men," the second Asha'men pointed out, narrowing his black eyes. ""Foretelling is a Talent, but only one should be appropriate, correct? If you expect our cooperation, Sister, you'd do best to explain yourself fully."
"Not here," she shook her head, cornered.
"Yes, here. You won't get a chance to confer with the otherAjahs to concoct a story for us," he pressed, keeping his voice low. The buzz of conversations around the dining room masked their own voices, especially since they used a ward against eavesdropping.
"Calla shows signs of being able to tap into the Power – her Foretelling is proof enough," the green, named Jayeuse, repeated. "However, her power is erratic, and the Source is blurred around her."
"What are you saying?" the man, Kiel, demanded with a glance toward his fellow Asha'men Jaib and Pyotr. "Are you saying this girl can tap into the Source directly? Both Powers?"
"That's why the Ajahs have all been sent here," she informed him. "The girl must be tested – and the Asha'men can guard against any mishaps, if need be."
"Only that man there looks any older than forty," Birgitte thought, whispering to Calla during a lull in the orders. "See, the one with graying hair? Maybe late forties, or early fifties at most."
"I'd be surprised if that Asha'man is over sixteen," Calla added, glancing toward a brown-haired boy seated with the older man. "Two with the Green Sister look in their early twenties, and the third perhaps a little older. The other two with Sisters don't look older than late-twenties either."
"Did you notice some of them have pins?" Brad asked, sidling up to the two women. "That old guy has three, and three don't have any. The others have one, except for the one close to that woman in green – he's got two. They must have something to do with rank."
"I know in the Tower, rank is according to your strength and experience in the Power, not age," Birgitte told them. "Even if you're very strong, a Sister with more experience is above you in the hierarchy."
"How do you know all this?" Calla asked.
"I knew a friend that went to the Tower, but was released when they said she wasn't strong enough to channel," Birgitte shrugged, and they didn't press the issue.
"There were more Asha'men then those seven, but they left quickly," Brad told them suddenly, looking around. "I'd say maybe sixteen or more in total."
"And Seven Ajahs? I wonder what's going on," Birgitte thought, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "Maybe they do think the Palace is going to be attacked."
"I hope they go away soon," Calla muttered. "They make me nervous."
"Really?" Birgitte turned to look at her friend, who shrugged helplessly. Unknown to them, so many men and women who could the Powers created a concentrated effect, disturbing Calla's own unrealized ability.
"Looks like some of 'em are clearing out," Greg reported, appearing suddenly in front of them. "May as well start to clean up from their mess."
"Yeah," Brad nodded, and glanced toward Calla. "You stay on order duty, I guess. After all, you're not supposed to clean tables."
"I don't mind," she protested, but shrugged as the two young men headed off. "Honestly, just because I'm a server, I still fill in for others."
"That's just how they are, I guess," Birgitte shrugged, and Call rolled her eyes. She turned away into the kitchen a moment later, uncomfortably feeing eyes on her.
"Yardley better be right about this," Flinn muttered to Micah. The boy glanced toward Calla before returning his gaze to the table. "I've got better things to do than chase after women the Amyrlin is suspicious of." The Red sister cleared her throat conspicuously, and glanced over to the Gray at the next table over, who merely shrugged slightly.
"If she wasn't certain, we would not be here," Terezihna said coldly. The Red's bright blue eyes, light skin, and pale blond hair often deceived people into thinking she was naïve, but her eyes peered at others sharply, giving no room for mistakes, while her hair was done up on the back of her head in a twist.
"Unfortunately, Jayeuse Sedai is in charge, not Terezihna Sedai," Flinn commented, his gray mustache twitching while Micah tried to hide a grin of his own. Terezihna's lips curled – the animosity between Blues and Reds was legendary, but the Reds disliked all other Bands save their own – but refrained from commenting. The Asha'man, having earned the Silver Sword, Crystal Sheath, and Diamond Arrow, was first-rank and second-in-command to Yardley, and was in charge of the Asha'men and their actions while they were with the Aes Sedai
"We should be departing," Sy reached his commander's side, having left his own table, and bowed low. "The others are already scouting, and we should not linger too long." Although Sy, as well as Micah and Pyotr, had no rank, he was still well-respected as all Asha'men were in their own ranks.
"Of course. Gather the others if you please, Terezihna Sedai," Flinn added to the Red, the suggestion obviously more of a command. The Red jerked upright, but rose calmly and stalked off. Reds were known for their dislike of men, people in general, their tempers, strength, and distrust of any other than another Red – and even then, trust never went very far. "I'm thinking that the Amyrlin shouldn't have sent a Red," Flinn murmured, as the Asha'men moved together. "She's sure to stir something up."
"That's not our concern," Jaib said calmly. Having earned both the Sword and Sheath, he had been picked as Flinn's second-in-command during the mission. "Our only worry is to keep things from getting out of hand when something does happen, not occupy our time with worries about something happening in the first place."
"You use too many words to say what could be said in three," Flinn said languidly, but his reply reminded Jaib who was in command.
"She certainly does seem to be capable of using the Power, if she has the ability," Laasya thought, her brown skin appearing darker amidst the light blues she wore. Her black hair, past her shoulders, was in numerous thin braids, with beads of varying colors at the ends. Her black eyes never missed much, especially the movements of the Red Ajah. Blues were seekers of justice, and also of causes in which to occupy themselves with, which ended up with Blues and Grays often working together. "What do you think, Iline?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, I would dearly love to learn her history further. I'm sure they missed something," the Brown said absently. Browns were usually burrowed in the Tower library or discussing at length things that bored anyone else to tears, concerning themselves with the written word and seeking knowledge, forsaking the world. The eldest Aes Sedai among them, her dark blond-brown hair had touches of gray in it, was in a coronet at the nape of her neck.
"I'm sure you would," Jayeuse said, with a slight roll of her eyes. The Greens were generally fond of men, amiable, and always alert for a fight in which to join in.
"I wonder if she would have any talent for Healing," Aurelia wondered, her black braid over her shoulder made even darker by her light skin and pale yellow robes. Her indigo eyes were half-shut, as if she was dreaming of something else, but Yellows excelled in Healing like no other Ajah and were very practical.
"There is no point in wondering what she could be adept in when we do not even know if she can wield the Power," the White Sister, Daelyn, interrupted the Yellow Sister's musings. With lightly-tanned skin and dark-red hair cut just to her shoulders was partially pulled back, and her brown-green eyes betrayed no emotion. Whites were logical to the extreme, and ignored worldly values and knowledge to concern themselves with philosophy and truth – earning a rather marked lack of contact with Ilin. "We must first discover how to talk to the girl without arousing suspicion."
"I thought the Asha'man Jaib – pardon, your Bonded – was to contact her," Terezihna said to Jayeuse, her distaste of Bonded men in general and Asha'men in particular apparent in the small jib. The Green didn't rise to the bait, and the Gray Sister pursed her lips in thought.
"Ah yes, they knew each when they were young, correct?" Esme checked. With light skin as well, her mouse-brown hair hung straight to her waist, and her eyes were of the same color. When she received a nod she continued calmly. The Gray Ajah had acted as mediators between nations and their own Tower for centuries, and their mediating skills always increased their own influence as well as avoided wars. "I thought she recognized him when she arrived in the room. We'll let her – all of them – grow used to the idea of us in their area before we make a move. TheAmyrlin did tell us this was not going to be an easy, or a short, task, remember."
"Yes, I remember," Iline said, momentarily out of her daze and her sharp mind clear to the ideas presented before her for once. "I'll send a report later this week to inform her of our progress."
"We'll be sure to have made some by then, I suppose," Laasya said calmly.
I know that the ranks for Asha'men are different, but I thought that considering so many years have passed, some of their ways were sure to have changed too, especially under new leadership. Please review and let me know your honest opinion on this. As for Birgitte, if she becomes the Birgitte Silverbow from the stories, I'm still debating that. It depends if I continue this story or not.