Within the Grey Tower
Logain, scion of the noble House of Ablar, watched with a mix of pity and resignation, as a young woman was brought before the Lodge of Councilors and the Tamyrlin Seat. She was on trial, just as many had been before, all for the same crime: channeling the female half of the True Source. It was a tragedy, but it was true. After all, the female Aes Sedai had Broken the World.
The young woman, miss Marina of his native Ghealdan, stood proudly even as seven Aes Sedai, one from each Ajah, kept her shielded from the True Source. A middle-aged looking man stood from beneath a banner of grey emblazoned with a judge's gavel. A member of the Arbiter Ajah.
"Miss Marina, you stand accused of the crime of channeling saidar. Numerous witnesses have confirmed these charges and the Aes Sedai have confirmed that you have embraced saidar in their presence. How do you plead?"
Marina tossed her hair, a deep flaming red, over her shoulder in defiance. "I plead guilty to no charge, Your Honor. Only to embracing a part of myself. There is no crime in that." The Councilors of each Ajah spoke quietly amongst themselves, discussing her words. After a few moments, the buzz of conversation died away. From his marble throne stood the Tamyrlin Seat himself, Algarin Pendaloin. The Ring of Tamyrlin, passed down from Lews Therin Telamon himself glinted faintly on his middle finger and the seven-striped mantle of his office wrapped around his shoulders.
"Your self-respect is commendable, Miss. But your actions put all around you at risk. For this reason, you are to be mercied, your connection to the True Source removed for all time. Do you have any final words before your sentence is carried out?"
Marina gazed defiantly at the Tamyrlin. "Yes, I do." The Aes Sedai wove threads of Spirit, ready to sever her connection to saidar. "When the Lord Dragon is reborn, what will he see in you so-called 'Servants of All', who destroy the lives of women with power. May he wreak cruel mercy upon you all!"
The Handlers' threads shot forward, into her head. Nothing seemed to happen, but young Marina's eyes widened as if in terror. She placed her hands on her forehead, as if searching for something. "No! No, no, no, no, no …!" She let loose a piercing scream, tears spilling from her eyes as she collapsed into a ball of sorrow. Two members of the Hunter Ajah, those who scoured the lands for female channelers before they went mad from the Taint, took her away.
Logain sighed in grim sadness. It had to be done, but no one liked it.
Logain chewed his roast lamb with less gusto than usual, his thoughts in turmoil over what he had seen that morning. It had been the first time had had seen a woman mercied, and the chivalrous part of him hated it. A hand clapped on his shoulder, drawing him out of his black mood.
"Come now, Logain, lighten up. Just looking at you threatened to darken my mood," Damer said. He was well in his sixties, Damer Flinn, and a prominent member of the Healer Ajah. Many said he was the best in the Grey Tower.
"Now, now, Damer. He's right to feel as he does. It may be for the best, but that doesn't make mercying any less distasteful." Jahar Narishma, a member of the Warrior Ajah, sat beside Logain. He was a wise one, that Jahar, even if he was younger than Logain. He had only been raised to the cape a few months ago, but he still held strong to his ideals. Many would call that foolish; Logain called it noble. Damer nodded at Jahar's point and dug into his food.
Logain continued to pick at his lamb, though his friends' arrival had lightened him up somewhat. He smiled at their jokes, gave simple replies to their questions. But he couldn't shake the cloud that had settled over him.
Logain sat before the desk of the Tamyrlin Seat, his ceremonial blue cape wrapped around his shoulders, reaching to his waist, fastened with a steel chain and emblazoned with the Dragon's Fang, the symbol of the Aes Sedai. Algarin regarded him over steepled fingers, the seven-striped mantle around his shoulders.
"Logain, we have had reports of a recruit found in the Two Rivers. I have had a vision of this boy," it was well-known that the Tamyrlin was a Dreamer of great power, "and I believe he is paramount to the dark times ahead." He said all this with a straight face, the calmness of age and experience. Logain sat forward, perhaps in fear.
"You think he is the Dragon Reborn?" he asked. Algarin squinted at Logain, as if unsure whether to answer. He nodded once.
"You have the Talent to see ta'veren, Logain. I want you to take two men you trust and go to the Two Rivers, a small town called Emond's Field. The Dragon Reborn will most certainly be ta'veren with his purpose." He stood, never breaking eye contact. "This mission is of the utmost secrecy, Logain. No one except the men you trust are to know." Logain's eyes were wide with concern. Was the Tamyrlin himself afraid of the alleged Dark Ajah? That had to be it. Logain nodded and stood.
"I will not let you down, Father."
Logain stood in the common room of the only inn in Emond's Field. The mayor had been more than accommodating for Aes Sedai. He thought for a moment before beckoning for Damer and Jahar to follow him. He strode into the street, eyes peeled for anything strange.
As he and his friends walked the streets, Logain noticed something off. The sun was setting, the light growing dimmer, but something seemed to be shining in the distance. It was as if a large crowd of people, each carrying torches were approaching. It wouldn't be the first time Aes Sedai had been demanded to leave, especially from a small, sleepy town like this. He seized the Source and prepared for anything. Or so he thought …
Logain shielded his eyes as a middle-aged man armed with a bow approached the town escorting a small horse and cart. But that was not what was incredible. On the horse's other side stood a figure wreathed in a halo of blinding golden light, shining like the sun. How could no one else see this?! It was devastatingly clear that this man would go on to shake the foundations of the world, to shatter civilization like a clay jar.
The light faded as Logain focused on his Talent, trying to lessen it. The halo faded away to reveal a tall young man with tanned skin and red hair. For a handful of moments, Logain almost mistook him for an Aiel. Logain led the way toward the farmer, Damer and Jahar having to jog to keep up with his pace.
"Excuse me, sir," Logain said. "A moment, please?" The farmer lowered his bow and nodded. Logain asked who he was, and was answered Tam al'Thor. He was a member of the Village council of Emond's Field.
Logain crossed over to the young man, the halo of golden light flickering back into existence. "Who are you?" he asked warily, pleased he sounded strong.
"I am Rand al'Thor," the boy answered. Logain nodded.
I will protect this boy to my last breath, he thought. For he is the Dragon Reborn.
Just a few thoughts I had in regard to possibilities. What if saidar had been taited, rather than saidin? how would the all-male Aes Sedai have differed from the mainstream, in apprearance if nothing else? If you want to see more, leave a comment detailing what aspect of the Grey Tower you wish to see.
For reference in regards to the male Ajahs:
The Hunter Ajah: Dedicated to hunting down female channelers destined to go mad. Crest - A bow crossed over an arrow on a field of red.
The Healer Ajah: Dedicated to researching and refining all aspects of Healing with the One Power. Crest - A three-petalled lily on a field of yellow.
The Scholar Ajah: Dedicated to collecting and preserving knowledge for future generations. Crest - A rolled-up scroll on a field of brown.
The Arbiter Ajah: Dedicated to learning, explaining, and doling the law in all its forms. Crest - A judge's gavel on a field of grey.
The Seeker Ajah: Dedicated to finding just causes and pursuing them with all passion. Crest - A compass on a field of blue.
The Reasoner Ajah: Dedicated to unraveling the mysteries of thought and philosophy. Crest - a single eye on a field of white.
The Warrior Ajah: Dedicated to preparing for the fabled and prophesied Last Battle with the forces of the Dark One. Crest - Clutch of three spears on a green banner.