My name is Ricard Craitin, Asha'man of the Black Tower. The year is 1 of the Fourth Age. The Last Battle is over, but my story has yet to be recorded. Unlike the Lord Dragon, who had an Ogier friend write his biography, I have no such connection. I must write my own tale of how the Light ultimately triumphed over the forces of the Shadow. As I write this, my thoughts drifted to the events at Dumai's Wells, where me and my fellow Asha'man were baptized in fire... and saidin. I guess that's as good of a place to start as any.


"Asha'man, form up!"

That was the command our M'Hael gave. Upon hearing those words, we all stopped chores and formed ourselves up into an enormous platoon. I was in the barracks reading a novel by an author named "R. Jordan" when the order reached my ears. Hastily I stood up from the bed and hefted my longsword, a forty inch blade with a sapphire set into the hilt that had once belonged to my grandfather, a retired Defender of the Stone. I fastened the weapon's scabbard to my sword belt and hurried outside, buttoning my long black coat on the way out the door. My coat had a silver sword pinned to the collar, marking my rank as that of a Dedicated.

The sun had reached its zenith over an hour ago, and still the air was heavy and humid with an unnatural heat. Only the now well-practiced concentration technique kept any of us from sweating profusely. Dozens of armed men in black had already formed up into the platoon by the time I emerged into the night. I took my place near the front of the platoon, with the other Dedicated.

"Good afernoon, Ricard," I heard a fellow Dedicated whisper in greeting.

"Hello to you too Keily," I whispered to the stocky Taraboner. "What do you think the M'Hael wants with us at this hour? Another midday combat drill, perhaps?"

Keily pointed a finger discreetly to our left. "It looks like we're about to find out."

It was then that I noticed Mazrim Taim, the M'Hael, approaching the platoon from the direction of his quarters. As usual, the tall, imposing Saldaean man wore his signature black coat with a dragon embroidered on each sleeve. A shortsword with a gold dragon's head for a pommel hung at his side. Two Asha'man – among the strongest in the One Power among us – flanked him on each side. Taim and his escort halted at the head of the platoon, turning to face us.

"Asha'man," he said in a voice amplified by the Power, "the Lord Dragon is in trouble. Thirty-nine Aes Sedai have abducted him from the Sun Palace. Now they're en route to the White Tower. The Shaido clan of Aiel is in pursuit. They want to take the Lord Dragon for themselves. Our job is to make sure that he remains free from both parties. The Aes Sedai have made camp at Dumai's Wells. That is where we are heading. Any Questions?"

Silence from the ranks.

"Very well." The M'Hael returned to his normal speaking voice. "Egmont, Urseine, open a gateway to Dumai's Wells.

Two of the Ashaman stepped aside. A silver line drew itself in the air, then widened into gateway wide enough for two men to pass through abreast. The scene on the gateway's far side was one of sheer chaos. Shaido Aiel warriors, veiled and ready for killing, filled the scene, charging a group of Aes Sedai. The female channelers hurled fire, ice, and lightning into the Shaido ranks, where men and maidens died as the deadly attacks struck home. Amid the chaos I recognized the Winged Guards of Mayene. What under the Light were they doing there? Then I sensed a strangely familiar feeling, one that I hadn't felt since a journey to Camelyn many years ago.

We hunt, brothers.

Wolves. Hundreds of them were nearby, biting and clawing at the Shaido. I didn't need to see them to know that they were there. Light, but it felt odd to hear them again.

"Single file for the gateway!" Taim boomed. "Get through now!"

We frantically reformed our platoon into single rank and began pouring through the gateway. When it was my turn to pass through, the man ahead of me took a Shaido spear through the chest and collapsed in a heap. I pulled the spear from the dead man's body and hurled it into the Aiel ranks, where it disappeared. I felt my boots hit the ground at Dumai's Wells as I stepped through the gateway. The noises of battle filled my ears. The clashing of steel, the roaring of fire, the shrieking of the wounded. My Asha'man brothers and I had entered the fray.

"Form a ring around the camp!" The M'Hael roared.

I performed two actions at those words. First, I drew my longsword, hefting the weapon with both hands. A sickening taint filled me, making me sick to my stomach and ready to vomit. Mixed in with the taint was a glorious sense of joy and elation. I had embraced saidin. Only within the last year did I learn that I could wield the One Power. I considered it a gift, while all others at my home in Tear considered it a curse. The Aes Sedai were about to take me away to their tower on the day that Mazrim Taim found me. The Black Tower gave me a new chance at life. Now it had led me here, to Dumai's Wells. Straight into the Pit of Doom.

A Shaido warrior charged at me, with his spear aimed straight at my chest. I used a flow of Air to knock his spear aside and sliced him across the middle with my sword. He fell to the ground shrieking in pain through his black veil. Another Shaido hurled a spear in my direction. I surprised him by weaving a flow of Earth to sprout a boulder up from the topsoil. The spear struck my improvised shield and fell harmlessly to the ground. Then I stepped back, waited until a group of Aiel had surrounded the ponderous rock, then I wove Earth and Fire into it, causing the boulder to explode. The blast tore apart the nearest Shaido and rained shrapnel on dozens more. To my left, Egmont sent six Aiel flying with a lightning strike. Next to him Keily was busy throwing fireballs at the advancing Shaido. All around my fellow Asha'man tore into the Aiel ranks, slashing with steel and wielding the power as the Shaido continued to press their advance.

Suddenly a huge bubble of Air surrounded the camp. The Shaido pressed up against the bubble, still trying to advance, but to no avail. I knew right away that the bubble of air had been woven by Asha'man. The M'Hael had taught us this technique at the Black Tower. Able to relax for a minute, I held on to saidin, but cleaned my blade on a fallen Aiel's cadin'sor and sheathed it. Only then was I able to get a clear look at the field of battle. The camp, situated within a clump of scattered trees, was filled with over three dozen Aes Sedai and two hundred Asha'man. Several wagons were clustered amongst the trees, some of which were burning. A few even had teams of horses still harnessed to them. The captured Aes Sedai stood or sat within the center of the camp, watched over and shielded by Asha'man. One look at their ageless faces informed me of just how shocked they were to encounter hundreds of men who could channel. For them, it was the stuff of nightmares, and that suited me just fine. Cairhienin and Mayener soldiers formed rings around clusters of captured Warders and… young men who looked and acted like apprentice Warders. I heard one such young man refer to them as "Younglings." They seemed more like children playing at war than proper soldiers.

Outside the camp's bubble of air, the battle still raged on with no end in sight. It seemed as though everyone was fighting each other. I spotted Aes Sedai fighting Aiel, Warders fighting Aiel, Mayeners fighting Aiel, Cairhienin soldiers fighting Aiel, and even Aiel fighting Aiel. Arrows rained down from the south, where several rows of archers were positioned. The wolves were still there, too. I could sense them in the back of my head. I suppressed an animalistic rage within me. It was their battle fury that I felt. Light! Part of me wanted to pounce on the nearest foe and rip his throat open.

I noticed the M'Hael arguing with the Lord Dragon. While their conversation was out of earshot, the Lord Dragon looked like he'd just tried to sail across the ocean by himself in a leaky boat. His clothing was torn and stained with sweat, standing in stark contrast to the M'Hael's finely embroidered coat. Were it not for the twin Dragons etched on his forearms, I would not have guessed that the disheveled young man was the Dragon Reborn. The M'Hael nodded and turned away from the Lord Dragon, looking back at us. My eyes briefly locked with his.

"Grady," he called in a power-assisted voice, "raise the Banner of Light!"

Asha'man Grady weaved flows of air, raising a banner clear to the top of the bubble. The banner displayed the black and white flames of the ancient Aes Sedai. I knew right then that it was meant to serve as a beacon to any and all friendly forces trapped outside the camp.

"Asha'man," came the M'Hael's voice again, "form line of battle!"

Almost all of the Asha'man in the camp – myself included – scurried to place ourselves between the barrier and everyone else. I reached for my sword, but Keily motioned me to keep it sheathed. We stood facing the Shaido beyond, every one of us filled with saidin fit to bursting.

"Asha'man, raise the barricade two spans!"

At the M'Hael's command, we lifted the bubble of Air two spans on all sides. The Shaido, surprised at no longer being pushed against an invisible barrier, surged forward once more. They were like a school of hungry silverpike moving in to finish off the carcass of a dead whale. But they didn't press for long.

"Asha'man, kill!"

Every one of us spun weaves of Earth, Air and Fire directly ahead of us. The foremost row of Aiel entered the weaves, and exploded in sprays of blood, cloth, flesh, and bone. More Shaido walked into our weaves and met the same fate. Then more. And then more still. It wasn't long at all before the splattered remains of the dead began to pile up around the edges of the camp. Horrified by what they were running into, the Shaido near the front were struggling to retreat, swimming upriver against the mob still pressing forward. At last the Shaido turned to retreat. But the M'Hael wasn't finished with us yet.

"Asha'man, rolling ring of Earth and Fire!"

Channeling as much of saidin as we dared, we all spun Earth and Fire. A ring of flame and topsoil erupted around the camp, sending cadin'sor-clad figures flying through the air. The ring rippled outward like waves away from a splash. For hundreds of paces the ring chased the retreating Shaido, forcing them ever farther away from the camp. Never had I seen so much panic in this many people at once. Light willing, I never shall again.

"Asha'man, rest!" called the M'Hael.

It is done, I heard the wolves call in my head.

And then it was over. We all eased our hold on saidin. The Shaido were in full retreat. The surviving Mayeners, Cairhienins, and friendly Aiel began making their way towards the camp. They came reluctantly at first, then more swiftly as time went on. The archers from the south approached the camp as well. I took a moment to look down at myself. My entire body, from my boots up to my hair, was stained with blood. None of my fellow Asha'man looked any cleaner, except those who had been shielding the Aes Sedai. Finally able to relax, we turned and faced inward toward the camp's center, where the Lord Dragon stood. The M'Hael was standing before him.

"Asha'man," he said, "you have done well, today. I congratulate you, Taim."

"Lord Dragon!" we cheered as one. "Asha'man!"

In the midst of our cheering, I saw a sight that I thought I would never see: Aes Sedai kneeling before the Dragon Reborn.

That was my first engagement as an Asha'man. There have been many since, but nothing quite as memorable – or as terrifying – as the infamous Battle of Dumai's Wells. Light, and what a battle it was.