Author's note: I don't own anything. All credit to Robert Jordan (may the Light illuminate his soul) and Brandon Sanderson.

Major spoilers ahead, as early as chapter three.

Thank you for stopping by!


She woke up with a start, certain she'd overslept. She saw the candle burning on her bedside table and wondered if she'd forgotten to extinguish it the night before. That seemed impossible; one of her sisters would have noticed and put it out. Feeling hazy, she sat up in the bed.

Where in the Pit of Doom was she? This wasn't her room! Could it even be called a room? The ceiling and the walls seemed to be made of rough stone, just like the floor. It looked as though the room had been carved into a rock. There was a plain washstand on the opposite wall, a small cupboard and a door to the left.

Was this a dream? She'd had odd dreams before, sometimes vivid ones, but nothing quite like this. She pinched her left arm, hard, and bit off a curse when the pain hit her. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to explore her surroundings.

Throwing back the blanket, she got up. She was wearing the same night shift she'd worn when she got in bed the night before. At least no one had undressed her; that was something. She walked to the door, tried the handle. It offered no resistance. Opening the door a crack, she peeked into the next room. It looked like a large cave converted into a living space. She couldn't hear anything; in fact, everything was eerily silent. She opened the door in full. There were shelves upon shelves filled with books on her left and she saw a cosy-looking armchair near the opposite wall, in front of the hearth, which held no fire. She spotted another door on her right. That was all. There was no window; no one was there.

Sighing, she started for the other door and operated the same way as before. As soon as she opened it, a strange noise filled the air, a crashing sound that reminded her of nothing she knew. She heard bird cries, but none that she recognised. She pushed the door wide open and suffered her second shock of the day.

She stood atop a sheer cliff, frighteningly high above the water.

Down below, the water was everywhere; it stretched as far as she could see. She gaped at the immensity of it. Was this what people called the sea? Or was it an ocean? She wasn't sure what the difference was, if there was any. Then she realised that only the door separated her from the precipice and she slammed it shut, panting with fear. She had never been comfortable with heights. Light, what was this place? She was shaking; she could feel the edge of panic settling in her mind. Burn you, get a hold of yourself!

Taking her head in her hands, she tried to gather her wits. She needed to think. What could she do? Where to start? There was no way she would attempt to climb the face of the cliff and, even if the water below proved deep enough, the fall was likely to kill her. And even if she did make it safely there, somehow, how far would she have to swim until she found land? Blood and ashes! How had she gotten here?

The books! Of course, they would not teach her how to fly out of here, but she might a least find some clues indicating where she was. With renewed purpose, she turned around and started to move toward the shelves on the opposite wall. That was when she noticed the man sitting in the armchair.


She stood still, holding her breath. The man sat staring at the fire, his back to her. He didn't move. She was certain he hadn't been there a moment before, no more than the fire had been.

"You're finally awake," she heard him say. He had a deep, quiet voice and a faint accent she couldn't quite place.

"Ah… yes?" She wanted to ask where she was, to demand that he take her home, but before she could speak, the man let out a small chuckle and rose from his seat, turning around slowly to face her.

His eyes were on fire.

That was all she had time to notice. Her heart skipped a few beats. Her knees gave out and she fell to the stone floor. This wasn't a dream. She was dead. She had died, and this was the Pit of Doom. The man started to laugh as she slipped out of consciousness.