The Seventh Age
By Mieren
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades into myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave birth to it comes again. In one Age, called the Seventh Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in a colony in space. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was A beginning.
* * *
EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO.
A four-year-old boy sat up, blinking tiredly and scrubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands. He yawned and sniffled, glancing around the dark room. Pale eyes widened as a sudden influx of knowledge threatened to overwhelm his brain. Crying out, he curled into a ball on his bed, trembling as he waited for the pain to stop.
Thoughts and memories threatened to overwhelm him. He whimpered, scrunching his eyes shut. His brain felt like it was being turned inside out. A gasp escaped his lips. As suddenly as the pain had started, it was gone.
The boy narrowed his eyes, scanning over his body in distaste. He cursed the form for being so young but accepted it, knowing he had no say in the matter. A voice sounded through his room, cold and hard, heard by his ears alone.
"Sammael. Lews Therin has been reborn on one of the colonies. Kill him."
"Yes, my Lord," he answered softly.
* * *
THIRTEEN YEARS AGO.
A five-year-old boy hid in a laboratory he had broken into, his midnight blue eyes wide behind his wild bangs. He remained perfectly still and silent, desperately trying not to draw the attention of the seven-foot tall beasts searching lazily through the large building. One of the creatures was only a few feet from his hiding place. He shivered slightly and hunkered down further, unable to understand why they were searching for him.
A tall lanky figure dressed entirely in black swept silently between the beasts, a hood pulled over its face. The boy stared at the shadowy being in confusion. It appeared to be human, but the creatures surrounding the form were obeying its commands.
Without warning, the tall figure reached up one skeletal hand and pulled back the hood covering its head. The boy barely was able to hold in a cry. It had no eyes. Greasy black hair fell limply around the gaunt face as the head swiveled around the room, searching. The eyeless face locked on his hiding spot.
Knowing he had been spotted, the boy ran, pumping his tiny legs for speed. Thundering footsteps could be heard behind him as the inhuman creatures gave chase. The black-cloaked figure suddenly reappeared out of the shadows in front of him, sword held ready. He was barely able to lurch out of the way before the dark blade claimed his head. He raised his gaze to the pale eyeless creature as it raised its sword to finish him.
Before the blade could descend, a thundering explosion echoed through the hall. The eyeless figure was thrown violently to the side, its head blown from its body. Even headless, it thrashed spastically, sword flailing. The hairy beasts following it fell to the tiled floor, convulsing and howling. The boy was watching them so closely that he didn't notice the newest presence in the room until his arm was seized roughly. He cried out and tried to pull away, freezing when he saw who held his arm.
The man beside him had strange goggles covering his eyes and his arm was made of metal. The boy stared at him in shock, his numbed mind groggily registering the smoking bazooka the old man was clutching.
"Come on, boy," an old man ordered, tugging at his arm. "If there's one Fade in the area, there's bound to be more." Nodding, he rose to his feet and followed the man down the halls to a different section of the building.
* * *
TWELVE YEARS AGO.
A six-year-old blond boy cowered helplessly behind one of his older sisters, staring at the creatures attacking the mansion from the bedroom window. His family being pacifists, they were badly equipped to deal with the sudden threat. The hairy beasts and the black clad men on obsidian horses were closing in quickly. The child whimpered in terror as he saw another person slaughtered ruthlessly.
"Iria, do something!" he pleaded, clutching her leg tightly.
The older blond girl stared out the window miserably. She wanted to help, but she couldn't. Another person fell to the murky blade that one of the black-cloaked horsemen wielded. Tears welled in her blue eyes. She had known the man that was just killed, a friendly old butler who had taken care of her since she was born.
A shriek escaped her lips. Lightening arced down from the sky, branching wildly to cover the sandy dunes surrounding the mansion. When the searing light faded, all of the horsemen were gone, piles of charred flesh testimony to what had happened to them. Most of the creatures shared the same fate. The few beasts that hadn't been hit by lightening were writhing in the sands, shrieking in agony.
Suddenly exhausted, Iria slumped to the floor beside her brother, unconscious.
* * *
TEN YEARS AGO.
An eight-year-old boy with a waist-length braid matted with filth kneeled beside a dying man, tears streaming from his violet eyes.
"Father," he choked out. "Don't die. Father."
"I'm sorry, my son," the old man rasped, coughing weakly around the blood in his lungs. "I cannot protect you any longer." He reached into his robes and pulled out a golden cross, pressing it into the boy's shaking hands. "Keep this with you. It will protect you."
"Father, please," he begged.
"The Halfmen travel by shadow. Stay in the light among other people, my son," he whispered. His hazel eyes slid shut and he inhaled weakly. "And stay… away from… the… re…"
"Stay away from the what?" the boy asked, tears leaking down his face. "Please, Father, don't go. I don't understand." He shook the still form weakly. "Father?"
Tears ran freely from his amethyst eyes as he embraced the cooling man fiercely, begging him not to die.
* * *
EIGHT YEARS AGO.
Hardened mercenaries ran across a city block, slaughtering all of the creatures and their masters that they could reach. Far back in the ranks, holding a gun far to big for his slender frame was a ten-year-old brunette trying to help the people that had raised him. His aim was decent, but the numbers opposing them were too great. One by one, the ruthless mercenaries were killed. The strange creatures were dying just as quickly.
The boy saw a horseman approaching him, bloodstained sword held ready as he charged on his black steed. Alarmed by the speed of the attacking figure, he began firing wildly trying to hit the charging creature. His fifth shot had been a wild one, having lost his balance just before pulling the trigger. The bullet left the muzzle of the gun just as his rear hit the dirt, sending the shot strangely wide.
Reality seemed to twist around him. The world seemed to fall into slow motion as he watched the horseman lurch to the side to avoid his last shot. The bad angle of the gun when he fired had sent the bullet on a different course, flying wide to strike the cloaked figure directly through the head and blowing out his skull.
Emerald eyes wide, he scrambled back to his feet, looking for a new target. He shrank in on himself when he saw no opponents to fire at. That wasn't what had bothered him. There were no standing mercenaries either.
The brunette stood shivering, the only survivor on a field of blood and mutilated flesh.
* * *
FIVE YEARS AGO.
A thirteen-year-old girl stood defiantly in front of her village, sword held ready. She watched the approaching creatures with a set jaw, vowing on her honor that she would not move while there was still a threat to her clan.
Though she was young, other warriors stood beside her, honoring her courage by treating her as an equal in battle. As one, the warriors attacked the charging hoards, cutting through their endless numbers. Man and creature alike fell in death, blood mingling to turn the thin topsoil to a thick, viscous mud.
Spotting what appeared to be a man on horseback, she decided that he was leading the beasts and began weaving through the perilous ranks to attack the cloaked figure. Even though she was a master with a sword, he was infinitely faster with his tainted sword. Knowing that she was going to die, she lunged a final time, taking the head of the pale swordsman.
Heart pierced by the corrupted blade, she slumped to the ground, vision quickly fading. Her last vision was of her fiancé pulling her limp form into his arms, his ebony eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"Meiran?" he said weakly. The girl smiled at him sadly before her eyes slid shut. She went limp in his arms. "Meiran!"
No response came to his desperate cries. Youthful eyes hardened in fury. He placed a gentle kiss on her bloodstained lips as he lowered her body gently to the bloodied earth. His hand curled around her sword as he stood to avenge his betrothed.
To Be Continued…
Okay. To be honest, this is an experiment. I want to see what you think about a crossover with The Wheel of Time series. I want feedback, people.
Oh, and this is on hold until… I don't know. I'm utterly stumped on what to do with this. Been on hold now for awhile, but writers block attacked and I don't have a clue how to escape it. Sorry. I'll continue once I figure out what I want to do with this.
Review!!! The more reviews I get, the more inspired I may be to do something.