A/N: I just had a flash of inspiration, and had to get it down before going
back to my other fic. I'm working on a longer fic that involves Moiraine
and Lan in a post-New Spring and Pre-Eye of the World Cairhien. It's long.
I'm already on page 12 and I'm only about halfway through the plot I want
to put down. I'll post it as soon as I'm done. I enjoy posting and hearing
from you all, but I have this naughty habit of dropping stories when I get
bored with writing chapters... sad, but that's one of my flaws. This is
just a short fic that can grow, or could die here. Either way, it's up to
y'all.
Enra stood in the middle of the cobble-stoned street her marble white dress flowing about her in the wind, balls of fire leaping from her hands, flying at the waves of trollocs that were enveloping the city of Dreal'no'rhien. It was one of the most beautiful cities in all of Malkier, and it contained the most detailed library outside of those found in Cairhien, Caemlyn, and Tar Valon. It surpassed those in its study of the shadow and its beasts. That was why she was here; to discover the logic behind the shadow. She was a white, and logic was her life. Until a few days ago, Malkier had been a strong bastion against the Shadow, but now it was falling, and falling fast.
Her only warder, Gym, had died the first day. He had insisted on going out to fight with the army, and the trollocs recognized his cloak, and sought to kill him to incapacitate his Aes Sedai. They almost succeeded, but she had overcome her pain. She had become what most greens dreamed of, a battle queen of old, riding out at the head of the army destroying the enemy before her, and it sickened her.
Before this war, she had been a cool, precise woman whose only passion was logic. She had forsaken all emotion, for its only purpose was to cloud logic. Now, she was letting her emotions ride her. A single tear fell from her eye as the last Malkieri fell with a trolloc spear in his gut. Then, in a wave of rage, she drew all she could from the one power, and began to fling fire and air about carelessly, trying to destroy as much as she could before they managed to kill her. Then a fate worse than death came, as an invisible shield of spirit slid between her and Saidar.
It was impossible! No lone woman could shield her, and very few pairs linked! She turned, fire in her eyes to find who had done this to her, but her knees melted when she saw them. Thirteen women cloaked in black, only their hands visible, with those little golden rings, a mockery of their oaths. Next to the women rode thirteen men, all dressed in black, but something was wrong about them. Their cloaks hung still, as though the winds dared not touch them. It was then that Enra screamed. She turned and tried to run, but flows of air bound her. She was well and truly caught.
A flow rotated her in midair, to face her captors. Spitting defiance to the last, she cursed their light forsaken souls. Remembering a childhood fighting tactic, she gathered the phlegm in the back of her throat, and once she had enough she sent it flying through the air. With a satisfying splat it hit a lurk straight in the spot where his eye should have been. He grimaced, and wiped it away. Then Enra blacked out.
She woke in a large, plush bed, covered by a thick down comforter. Stretching languorously, she looked to all sides, and all she could see were black and red pillows and blankets. Rising from the bed, she channeled a robe from the closet next to the bed. No need to be cold. It was black silk with gorgeous red lace at the hem. It felt amazing on her skin. With a brief flow of fire she lit the fireplace, and instantly heated the entire room. Comfort was her first priority. Her comfort. Out of the corner, a tiny grey head peeked into the room.
Stifling the rage that welled up in her she grabbed the rat with a flow of air, compressed it into a tiny ball, and then hit it with a flow of fire so hot that all that remained of the beast was a fine white powder that floated out of the room through the large window. Funny, that was the first time she had noticed the window. Enra walked to the large marble balustrade, and let her hands rest on the railing. It was a beautiful view, the fires leaping from the ground, multi-colored clouds swirling around the black peak that thrust up into the heavens. The black peak! She should flee... no. She should not flee. That was where her master lived until she could help free him.
She let her right hand rest on her left forearm, the black nails making a stark contrast to her ivory skin. Well, she was obviously no longer a white. With casual ease, she floated a long black dress from the closet, and stepped into it. If she was no longer an Aes Sedai, then their rules no longer held her. She turned her head to see the mirror on the opposite wall, and frowned at how messy her hair was. Using quick, deft flows of air, fire and water, she formed her hair into those beautiful curls that hung about her shoulders, making her auburn hair gleam like jet in some places and flash like fire in others.
Once she was satisfied with her looks, she stepped onto the porch, an aura of the power shinning around her to all who could see it, but that wasn't enough to satisfy her lust for acknowledgement. Spinning a few more complex weaves of air and fire, her hair and clothing flew up as if a funnel of wind surrounded her and to all who could see her, she seemed to be wreathed in dark light. Laughing, she wove another, less complex, weave of air, sending her voice cascading over the bleak land surrounding her new apartments.
"To all who hear my voice. Bear witness to the birth of the Dreadlady Haranfear." Her wild cackle filled the vale and echoed up the slopes of Thakandar, and deep inside Shayol Ghoul the malevolent presence dwelling there began to laugh as well.
Enra stood in the middle of the cobble-stoned street her marble white dress flowing about her in the wind, balls of fire leaping from her hands, flying at the waves of trollocs that were enveloping the city of Dreal'no'rhien. It was one of the most beautiful cities in all of Malkier, and it contained the most detailed library outside of those found in Cairhien, Caemlyn, and Tar Valon. It surpassed those in its study of the shadow and its beasts. That was why she was here; to discover the logic behind the shadow. She was a white, and logic was her life. Until a few days ago, Malkier had been a strong bastion against the Shadow, but now it was falling, and falling fast.
Her only warder, Gym, had died the first day. He had insisted on going out to fight with the army, and the trollocs recognized his cloak, and sought to kill him to incapacitate his Aes Sedai. They almost succeeded, but she had overcome her pain. She had become what most greens dreamed of, a battle queen of old, riding out at the head of the army destroying the enemy before her, and it sickened her.
Before this war, she had been a cool, precise woman whose only passion was logic. She had forsaken all emotion, for its only purpose was to cloud logic. Now, she was letting her emotions ride her. A single tear fell from her eye as the last Malkieri fell with a trolloc spear in his gut. Then, in a wave of rage, she drew all she could from the one power, and began to fling fire and air about carelessly, trying to destroy as much as she could before they managed to kill her. Then a fate worse than death came, as an invisible shield of spirit slid between her and Saidar.
It was impossible! No lone woman could shield her, and very few pairs linked! She turned, fire in her eyes to find who had done this to her, but her knees melted when she saw them. Thirteen women cloaked in black, only their hands visible, with those little golden rings, a mockery of their oaths. Next to the women rode thirteen men, all dressed in black, but something was wrong about them. Their cloaks hung still, as though the winds dared not touch them. It was then that Enra screamed. She turned and tried to run, but flows of air bound her. She was well and truly caught.
A flow rotated her in midair, to face her captors. Spitting defiance to the last, she cursed their light forsaken souls. Remembering a childhood fighting tactic, she gathered the phlegm in the back of her throat, and once she had enough she sent it flying through the air. With a satisfying splat it hit a lurk straight in the spot where his eye should have been. He grimaced, and wiped it away. Then Enra blacked out.
She woke in a large, plush bed, covered by a thick down comforter. Stretching languorously, she looked to all sides, and all she could see were black and red pillows and blankets. Rising from the bed, she channeled a robe from the closet next to the bed. No need to be cold. It was black silk with gorgeous red lace at the hem. It felt amazing on her skin. With a brief flow of fire she lit the fireplace, and instantly heated the entire room. Comfort was her first priority. Her comfort. Out of the corner, a tiny grey head peeked into the room.
Stifling the rage that welled up in her she grabbed the rat with a flow of air, compressed it into a tiny ball, and then hit it with a flow of fire so hot that all that remained of the beast was a fine white powder that floated out of the room through the large window. Funny, that was the first time she had noticed the window. Enra walked to the large marble balustrade, and let her hands rest on the railing. It was a beautiful view, the fires leaping from the ground, multi-colored clouds swirling around the black peak that thrust up into the heavens. The black peak! She should flee... no. She should not flee. That was where her master lived until she could help free him.
She let her right hand rest on her left forearm, the black nails making a stark contrast to her ivory skin. Well, she was obviously no longer a white. With casual ease, she floated a long black dress from the closet, and stepped into it. If she was no longer an Aes Sedai, then their rules no longer held her. She turned her head to see the mirror on the opposite wall, and frowned at how messy her hair was. Using quick, deft flows of air, fire and water, she formed her hair into those beautiful curls that hung about her shoulders, making her auburn hair gleam like jet in some places and flash like fire in others.
Once she was satisfied with her looks, she stepped onto the porch, an aura of the power shinning around her to all who could see it, but that wasn't enough to satisfy her lust for acknowledgement. Spinning a few more complex weaves of air and fire, her hair and clothing flew up as if a funnel of wind surrounded her and to all who could see her, she seemed to be wreathed in dark light. Laughing, she wove another, less complex, weave of air, sending her voice cascading over the bleak land surrounding her new apartments.
"To all who hear my voice. Bear witness to the birth of the Dreadlady Haranfear." Her wild cackle filled the vale and echoed up the slopes of Thakandar, and deep inside Shayol Ghoul the malevolent presence dwelling there began to laugh as well.