Authors Note: I do not own the Wheel of Time, or its characters. Frankly, I wouldn't want too. I don't see how Robert Jordan deals with them every day. I would kill them all in a week. Especially Egwene. She wouldn't even last a week. Maybe a day. Anyway, this is only second story. Reviews are welcome. No pointless flames, please. If you don't like it, please tell me why. This story is based on the storyline of the Wheel of Time RPG that I currently run. Thanks to my PCs for letting me use and mutilate their characters.


Prologue


Tamin released saidin, the Power leaving him feeling empty, and drab. He felt the loss, and resisted the desire to seize it again. Too much channeling was dangerous, these days. He looked around at the chamber that would become his tomb. Glowbulbs hung at spaced intervals around the rock walls. The room itself was small, only thirty feet across. It was deep underground, hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the earth. In the middle of the chamber was a raised dais of a black material. Cuendillar. Its surface had the image of the Aes Sedai on it, the black and white halves divided by a curving line. That would be the anchor, the tie that held the vacuole to the Pattern, by the thinnest threads.

He had long ago collapsed the tunnel that led to this chamber, hiding it so no one could ever find it. How could Lews Therin have been so blind? Attempting to seal the Bore, with only his Hundred Companions! The seals, made of saidin, were imperfect. They had allowed the Dark One to taint saidin, and slowly but surely, all male Aes Sedai were going mad. He could feel it, sometimes, the madness creeping up. He would lose himself in hours of reverie, thinking of the past. He had been a teacher at the Collam Daan. The Head of the Spatial Studies department, in fact. He had been against Lews Therin's plan, if they had no female Aes Sedai to go with him. He had told them, the Light burn them! They hadn't listened, though. He had warned them the seals would be imperfect. The key had been hidden, though, thank the Light, and it would never be found. One good point in the sealing had been the capture of the Forsaken. They couldn't search for it. It would remain lost. All for the best.

Shaking his head, Tamin took a last look at his tomb. Perhaps prison was a better word. He didn't have enough courage to just kill himself, to prevent him from going mad, like all the others. Or perhaps he had too much courage. He smiles faintly. Beidomon would have enjoyed debating that. She loved arguing, though she always called it debating. Tears abruptly stung his eyes at the memory of his sister. Dead in the War of Power. Killed by one of the Forsaken. He had never learned which. No! He would not let himself be distracted! He had too much to do.

Seizing saidin, he wove complex flows of all of Five Powers. The air above the cuendillar dais bulged, like a bubble forming. Slowly, it expanded. He smiled briefly, taking satisfaction in his weaving. No one matched him in this area, the manipulation of the Pattern itself. The bubble, like a rippling in the air, expanded, until it resembled a large, shimmering bubble. It was just the size of a man. Just the right size for him. Here, he would remain sealed off from the Pattern, until the Taint was gone. Still holding his weave, he stepped onto the dais, and into the shimmering bubble. Time seemed to slow, and then darkness descended around him as saidin vanished. Then he knew only darkness. Outside, the bubble seemed to collapse in on itself, and disappear. And he waited.


******


Caldin panted, looking around the battlefield. The Aiel had been forced into a retreat, if only barely. This was a small skirmish, compared to some others he had been in. Wiping his sword clean of blood on the grass, he looked about. The clearing he and what remained of his company stood in was large, several hundred yards wide, at the least. It was surrounded by a forest. The night was cool, and there was barely a hint of a breeze. The group of Aiel had ambushed his squad. The Aiel had numbered several dozen, while his company was near to one hundred men and women. Even so, the Aiel had killed many before they had routed them. Panting, his breath fogging the night air, he looked about. From what he could see, only around twenty five of his company remained alive. The rest were dead, lying around the battlefield, their bodies full of wounds made by Aiel spears. Looking down at himself, Caldin took stock of his wounds. His Andorian Guard uniform had been cut in several places, and blood leaded down his dark skin from several shallow cuts. All in all, he was not seriously injured.

Staggering to his feet, he moved as quickly as he could over to the nearest fellow Guardsmen he saw.

"Are you hurt," he called to the man. Jorin, the man's name was, he thought. Jorin was a short, stocky man with black hair and a broad face.

Jorin shook his head. "I'm all right." Indeed, he had only a few wounds apparent on him. "Bloody Aiel! We didn't even see them coming!"

Caldin sighed, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "What about Marin?" Light, please let her be alive!

Jorin nodded. "She wasn't badly injured. I saw her over there a ways, helping with the wounded." He gestured off to his left.

Caldin looked up, his eyes peering into the darkness. Walking quickly, the wounds stinging like fire, he headed in the direction Jorin had indicated. Then he saw her. Light, she was beautiful. Her long, dark hair framed a thin, beautiful face. Her eyes were green, that sparkled when she laughed. She was tall, nearly six foot. She was also as fine a warrior and commander as he had ever met.

As he walked over to her, he saw she was trying to staunch the bleeding from a young man lying on the ground. The wound was near his heart, and Caldin had seen enough battles to know it was pointless. Even as he thought this, the young man, who's name he couldn't remember, coughed bloody froth, and his head lolled. Caldin saw his chest had stopped moving.

Marin sighed, and set back on her heels, her face sad. Abruptly she turned, noticing Caldin. She smiled faintly at him, then her face settled back into grim lines.

"How many?" Her voice was cold, matter of fact, as if she were asking the state of the weather.

Caldin looked at the boy, then back at Marin. "I counted around twenty five on their feet. Too many. If any Aiel find us, we won't last long."

Marin nodded, brushing her hair back. "Gather all who can march, and those who can survive a march, together. We leave in half an hour. Any who can't survive..." She trailed off, then her features hardened. "Better than the Aiel getting them."

Caldin nodded. It was an sad duty, but no one would want to be taken prisoner by those savages. He turned, and strode off into the field of blood, his heart heavy.



*******


Serena hurried along the halls of the White Tower, her novice dress swishing. The hall was long, made of white marble, and several other novices and Accepted hurried along to class or their rooms. She didn't want to run, but a summons from a Sister was not something you dawdled to. She forged ahead, took to turns, and arrived at her destination. She smoothed her skirts, composing herself. The river and the bank. She reached up, knocking on the large wooden door. As the echo of the sound faded, she noticed the hall was empty. That did nothing to quell her nervousness.

"Come in." The voice smooth, clear.

Serena slowly pushed open the door, and stepped into the apartment of Renale Sedai, shutting the door behind her. The room was spacious. She couldn't see the sleeping room from where she was, but the sitting room certainly impressed her. A large brown carpet covered most of the wooden floor, and there were several large chairs, with a carved wooden table between them. A fire burned merrily in a fireplace set into the wall. Seated in one of the chairs was a Renale Sedai. She was a rather plump woman, of average height. She had shoulder length hair, tied in a ponytail. Her face was ageless, as were all Aes Sedai's faces. She had an embroidery hoop in her hands, and was deftly weaving the thread in and out. She looked up as Serena entered, and smiled slightly, her hands never stopping.

"Welcome, child. Please, sit down," she gestured towards a chair.

Serena smiled back, though it wavered a bit. She curtsied, and walked over to the chair, sitting down. It was really quite comfortable. She sank into its stuffed cushion.

Renale studied her for a few moments. Serena was short, and was lithe. Her blonde hair was long, hanging to near her shoulders. Her eyes were green, and she had rather pretty dimples. The girl would be very strong, one of the strongest Aes Sedai in history. She was almost ready to be tested for Accepted, after only 2 years as a novice. She was already the equal of most Accepted in raw power. Only her block kept her from being tested already. Renale smiled to herself. Being only able to channel when aroused was one of the more interesting blocks she had heard of. Still, the news she had for her should cheer her.

"I have some news for you, child, from your uncle, Lord Davram Bashere. It seems your cousin, Allyana, is to be married."

Serena blinked. Allyana? Married? That girl had one of the sharpest tongues in all of Saldea! Who would ever marry her?

"That is...wonderful news, Renale Sedai. Did the message say who she is marrying?"

Renale furrowed her brow. "I believe it was...ah, yes, his name Alin. Alin Cheade. Son of the former Marshal-General."

Serena's eyes narrowed, and she let out a long hiss. Her hands grasped her skirts, as if strangling something. Perhaps a throat. Renale looks faintly surprised at this. She had though the news would cheer her.

"Is something wrong, child? Are you ill?"

Serena spoke in a low voice, her almond shaped eyes narrowed to thin slits. "That...that bloody trollop! How dare she!"

Renale's lips thinned. "Child, you will watch your language and your tone! You do not speak so to a Sister!"

Serena gulped arrow, her mind burning. She would see that insufferable cousin hung by her toes! Abruptly she looked at Renale, realizing she had spoken her last thought aloud.

"Forgive me, Aes Sedai. The news was...a surprise, is all."

Renale studied her, then continued on. "The wedding is set to be held in six months. You will be allowed to leave the Tower to attend it, if you wish. You would be traveling with several Sisters, who wish to travel to the Borderlands."

Serena inclined her head. "Thank you, Aes Sedai. I would like to attend."

Renale nodded. "I will inform the other Sisters. You may go."

Serena got to her feet, her fists still clenched, and turned to the door. Belatedly, she remembered she had not curtsied. Burn Alin, and that trollop Allyana! She reached for the door, as Renale spoke again.

"Oh, and child, you will report to Sheriam Sedai, and ask her to instruct you in the proper language to use while speaking to a Sister."

Serena's concealed her scowl, and nodded. "Of course, Renale Sedai." She quickly opened the door, and made her escape.

She exited Renale's apartment, and stormed down the hall. Bloody men! A fine lot of talk he had given her! He had swore he would wait for her attain the shawl, and he had even said he would be her Warder! That..that..bloody man! Woolheaded men! Burn them! All of them! And that insufferable Alanna! She would show her! Her mind spun with plans. She would show them both! Forget her, would he? She stomped towards the Mistress of Novice's room, her face like a thundercloud. She would make them both pay for this switching, too!


*******

The figure sat in his room, the fire burning loudly, crackling and popping. He held a silver goblet with a dark red liquid in it, to thick to be wine. He swirled it slowly. All was going as he planned. He almost had the location of the key. Nearly three thousand years of searching, and it was almost his. He drank deeply from the goblet, draining it. His plans for eliminating possible obstacles were going well. Although there had been one incident, in Tel'aran'rhiod. He frowned slightly. A rat appeared in the corner, and waddled slowly near the man in the chair, its whiskers twitching. He had thought his efforts in the World of Dreams had gone unnoticed, but that strange man...something about the man bothered him. The rat kept closer, and then squeaked as the man reached down with inhuman speed, snatching it up. It squeaked in terror, wriggling as the man held it by the tail. He moved it slowly over his now empty goblet.

Well, no matter what the man had seen, or what had he had done, he still needed his army. He chuckled to himself. An army unseen, immaterial, but as effective as ten thousand troops armed with shocklances. He moved his other hand towards the rat's head, grasping it firmly. With a convulsive jerk, he ripped its head off. It died without a squeak. Blood began to drip, and then stream, into the goblet. It filled the goblet near half full before the blood stopped flowing. The man tossed the rat's body, and its head, away. He drank deeply. Yes, he would have the key, and he would have his army. Thousands of years of effort, and it would soon be his. He began to chuckle. The chuckle grew into a laugh, and then into high pitched shriek. He was soon giggling shrilly. Everything would be his.