Time is a Wheel with seven spokes, each spoke an Age. The Wheel weaves the lives of all in the Pattern of reality. The force that turns the Wheel is the True Source, made of saidin and saidar, the male and female halves, respectively. Some men and women can channel power, the One Power, from the True Source to cause "supernatural" occurrences. Women who channel professionally are known as Aes Sedai, and men, as Asha'man.
Aes Sedai usually bond men as Warders with the One Power, who guard the Aes Sedai. An Aes Sedai and her Warder are aware of each other's physical and mental conditions. There are seven Ajahs of Aes Sedai, designated by color, each with a specific philosophy and purpose. Men who can channel eventually go insane because saidin is tainted by the Dark One.
Angreal and sa'angreal are objects that allow an individual to channel more of the Power than is possible unaided. Sa'angreal are much more powerful than angreal. Ter'angreal are objects that use the Power (usually) to perform a specific function, but their uses are not always known.
Arad Doman and Tarabon are countries. Tar Valon is the city of the White Tower—Aes Sedai headquarters
Colin and the Sa'angreal
The man stood in the middle of the vaulted stone chamber, his arms crossed, a scowl frozen on his face. He could have been a statue carved from granite. Slim but with muscles almost as hard as stone, the pale blonde man sweated not a drop from the heat in the height of the afternoon. Suddenly a sliver of light appeared before him and widened into a doorway opening into a lush red-carpeted chamber, and a short raven-haired woman stepped through. The doorway winked out of existence. The man himself showed no sign of surprise, but he gave off the impression of being tensed like a spring, more than before.
"You look like a rock," laughed the young woman, with her small mouth lifted in a mocking half-smile. She didn't sweat either.
"Aes Sedai are all meddlers who should be hanged," said the man in a voice like ice. "What do you want?"
"Asha'man are only good for one thing and after that should be gentled," she retorted in the same light tone as before.
The man's blue-gray eyes hardened into twin blued steel dagger points. He began to reach for the Source.
The Aes Sedai waved a hand impatiently. "There's no need for that, Colin. I have no love for the Reds. You forget my Ajah, yes? But we've gotten away from your question. What do you want, this is the question. You've left the rest of the Asha'man to go jaunting off on your own. You've managed to carve out a comfortable niche here in Arad Doman, establishing yourself as lord over a few petty domains. Also, you have been Traveling everywhere, questioning, seeking…so furtive. So now! What do you want?" Her dark brown eyes like bottomless pools seemed to engulf him.
"Blood and bloody burning ashes! Burn you! Burn to flaming bloody ashes!" He channeled quickly and wove bold flows of Air to hurl her tiny body to the far wall where her bones would shatter like a seal of the Dark One's prison.
She bounced off an unseen barrier a few feet from the wall—Shielded, then, and quickly. Cynthia Sedai was nimble with the Power as well. She pulled herself to her feet, unconcernedly adjusting her skirts and collar. Colin frowned as he regretted the high neck on her dress, having accustomed himself to Domani attire—at least on women. The woman's eyes caught him in his vagrant thought, and she raised an unamused black eyebrow. Then she was back to her half-smile, but her voice was freezingly incongruous with her face. "You're so creative with your obscenities," she scolded dangerously. "Your anger, you should learn to control it, yes?"
Colin held her unwavering gaze. Then he threw his head back, his hair sweeping out of his eyes, and he laughed, a harsh, deep-throated rumble. He couldn't help it. The little Aes Sedai, acting as if she could cow him! And she was so angry but she could do nothing about it. An angry hissing cat. It was hilarious. He stopped abruptly and grinned at her; she was giving him a considering look. Likely thought him mad. Well, let her! Maybe it would scare her. To keep himself in his good humor at Cynthia's expense, he visualized her in what he considered a becoming Domani dress. He chuckled and told her, "You're quick, for a woman. I did mean to kill you, but don't hold it against me too long, all right? Nothing personal, I promise!" He chuckled again.
Her lips had been pressed together tightly, but they became close to a grin. "I should bond you."
"One for each day of the week, is that your goal?" he asked disgustedly.
"Seven Warders, that many I have already. But more wouldn't hurt, yes? Reserves, they could be."
"Light blind you, Tar Valon witch! Is acquiring Warders the point of your existence?"
"It could be. Now—" she began walking towards him, but he didn't move from where he was—"what is it that you seek? Not men, not loyalties…things…ancient relics—"
Colin was frowning. The little harlot was getting dangerously close to the truth, but perhaps it would be to his advantage. With a little work—hopefully not too much; he had discovered that there was always a shortcut in what seemed to be an arduous task—he could use her in his search. If only he could gain her affections. That won't be hard, he mused. It can't possibly be, with her or any Green. "All right, all right! Sa'angreal! I want one, but you already knew that, Cynthia bloody Sedai, so the flaming question is, what do you want?"
Nothing about the Aes Sedai's expression changed as she went on smoothly. "Sa'angreal, so you have none of them?"
Scowling as he realized that perhaps he shouldn't have let her know that, he said, "I'm collecting them." Then again, maybe it didn't matter. He had an angreal, a heavy gray stone plaque he needed both hands to lift, carved so that the Great Serpent framed a skinny nude man who wielded a sword with a serrated edge. It was quite useful, but it wasn't enough for his plans about Arad Doman and Tarabon, especially not with the rest of the Asha'man running amuck.
"But let's discuss this decently—say, over some wine. Do you like cats?" he asked, pausing to pick up a heavy black and white feline. She did, of course, cats, and red wine, and potential Warders. If he could mend the visit from its rather rocky beginning, with him trying to kill her and all, if he could befriend her in the loosest sense of the word, then she would lead him to a sa'angreal. Of course, she wouldn't intend to, but she would search for one, hoping to bargain with it, and he would keep an eye on her so that when she found it, he would snatch it out of her grasp. He knew better than to be used by Aes Sedai.
He led her to dine in a room carved in cats, where she had red wine and Taraboner confections. He called for musicians and had them play melodies he hated but she seemed to enjoy immensely. Everything went smoothly except for conversation, but he was able to divert her attention from his subversive activities to her own intrigues—mainly, descriptions of her Warders and cats. He even succeeded minimally at not cursing.
Somehow, then, Colin found himself stepping through a gateway of Cynthia's making. She had a rare breed of cat that he wished to see, or something. It was in her personal chambers, she said. Colin stepped out on the thickly luxuriant red rug and found himself in a white marble room, lit through an expansive window by the demure glow of the low sun. The furniture was all of dark polished wood; tapestries of deep rich floral motifs adorned the walls. There were a writing desk, a small table, a wardrobe, and many chairs all scattered about, but in the center of the room was a massive bed, its heavy posts and headboard cluttered with ostentatious carvings. There was something else strange about it too, but the Asha'man couldn't tell what. He forgot about it as a tiny kitten made its way to his slim hostess. She still had not released saidar. Colin kept that in mind as he admired Cynthia's pet.
Mysteriously, he soon found himself admiring Cynthia's eyes instead, and how they were truly a lovely shade of brown, if such a thing could be said about such a color, and her hands too, how they looked so small and delicate but were able to unlace his shirt so deftly, and how gracefully she threw it off the bed. The bed—he was on it, he realized. There was that peculiar something about it still, but he did not know what. Yet he liked it a great deal, he decided; he couldn't keep his eyes off its intricate patterns…It was so beautiful…
Cynthia was laughing. Colin's attention snapped to her. He had been distracted from this?! There was something wrong with her too—her face. Satisfaction. Triumph. Why? And she still embraced saidar.
"Well, Colin al'Moris, you're a prideful fool! The trap, it is mine and not yours as you expected, yes? You will enjoy being my Warder, I assure you." A pendant was dangling in his face from a chain around her neck; it had been hidden before. It was a flat square of gray stone, the Great Serpent encircling a skinny nude woman breaking a sword with a serrated blade. Shock paralyzed him.
She was going to bond him! What powers would it give her over him? She was wearing an angreal! At least it looked like an angreal, like his angreal; in all likelihood it worked only for women just as his worked only for men.
"The bed, it is a ter'angreal that makes men powerless to resist a woman's will, whatever that may be. I have bonded all my…less eager Warders here."
The bed! Colin focused on the headboard again and realized it was not wood, but stone. And such beautiful stone…The patterns of the stone seemed to be a map of thousands of twisting roads. He seemed to fall into the patterns, into all of the roads, and they all led to saidin. From thousands of directions at once, he was rushing at it…and converged, all of him, into saidin. The sweetness, the evil…he was in saidin, and saidin in him, a raging unstoppable torrent. So much. The thought slipped off the surface of the Void. So dangerous.
From within saidin—or so it seemed--Colin observed himself detachedly. The man effortlessly pushed the little Aes Sedai away. Amusement slipped across the Void at her expression, outrage mixed with horror. So much. So sweet. So sweet… He must give in to it, become it. Saidin. So sweet. Surrender. That was what the women did. He let go a little more, and the flow of the Power thickened.
"Burn you bloody Aes Sedai, Cynthia darth'Chang! Too stupid to know anything! This flaming bed is not a bloody ter'angreal! It must be the angreal you're wearing that makes it bloody work funny! Blood and bloody ashes, woman! It's a sa'angreal! A bloody sa'angreal!" Colin observed himself laughing harder than he ever had in his life. All was apart from the Void. Saidin beckoned…
Colin closed his eyes and let go. Surrender. The thunderous deluge rushed in and through him. The stone floor trembled violently and the walls began to crumble. Surrender. So beautiful…He felt the very earth rupture and tear apart. Saidin's work was so beautiful. Surrender. And at last he did, completely, and the Power carried him away.
Cynthia Sedai stood on the edge of a massive crater. She wore an almost undetectable frown. The crater was a gaping wound in the earth, hundreds of feet deep and a mile in diameter, lined with outcrops of jagged brown rock. This was what was left of her lovely mansion. She clenched her hands at her sides. It was also what was left of Colin al'Moris. She should have been more alert. At least she had been able to make the gateway before the fellow destroyed himself with the power. Himself, and her house, and a sa'angreal…She chided herself mentally, The Wheel, it weaves as it wills, yes? Perhaps this will teach you the price of failure. At least she still had two Warders. She suppressed a grimace at the thought of finding five more. She scooped up the kitten that rubbed against her skirts as she channeled a widening sliver of light. "The Asha'man, they are only good for one thing. And before that, they should be gentled."
