Warning: I do not own The Wheel of Time, this story contains slash... not explicit slash, but if myrddraal and humans having 'relations' disturbs you, get out while you can! Please read and review! Thanks!

Lightning flashed outside the tent, filling the night sky with a bluish light. There was only one tent in the entire camp, even though more than five hundred bodies slept there at night. This was a trolloc camp, complete with cook pots large enough to fit several human bodies at once. The only oddity about this one camp was the single tent. The cloth that made the wall the tent, was deepest black, and hung so still that it seemed it hardly moved. Just outside the tent hung a banner even blacker than the tent.

This tent belonged to a myrddraal named G'nrac. He was, on the outside, the same as any other myrddraal, but he hid a secret so dark he had killed several other myrddraal who had discovered his secret sin. The lands of the Light-fools were full of stories of the finer tastes of myrddraal, causing borderland women to fear for their bodies in raids. G'nrac had base desire, like any other myrddraal, but his lay toward the male sex.

It was shaming to the bone for a myrddraal to lust after men. Shame was bearable, and if that were the only thing G'nrac feared, he would come forward, but it wasn't the only thing he feared. Myrddraal were invariably male, and like most males, they had a fear of those who were different. It took a lot of effort for a myrddraal to be different, but homosexuality did it. G'nrac glared at the memory of the first myrddraal he had told about his aberration: Shizk.

They had learned from the same Dread Lord, and Shizk was the closest thing to a friend any myrddraal could claim. They had enjoyed putting the fear of the Great Lord into trollocs and humans alike. It was just after they had both been given their first commands. Each had less than a hundred trollocs assigned to him, but they were both prouder than Shienarans with new swords. Working together, their two bands struck South, into Kandor, where they obliterated a good-sized town. This would have been fine, except there were prisoners.

Four women, close to madness with their screaming, and two men, one old and toothless, the other young and sweet looking. Just looking at him had made G'nrac want to drool, but myrddraal did not drool. Shizk was close to drooling too, but he was looking at the women; his gaze made them cry even louder. The other myrddraal glided closer to the women, moving sinuously, like a snake. His voice came out of him mouth like ancient leather crumbling.

"Which of you wishes to... entertain... me?" Even without eyes, it was obvious, to the women, that he was leering at them. One finally remembered she had a backbone, stood up straight, and spat in Shizk's face.

"You can kill me, beat me, or throw me to the trollocs, but I will never let you touch me." She flung herself at Shizk, nails raised like talons, red hair flying behind her. This was a woman the light-fools would make a story about, if any of them ever heard of her, which they would not. Shizk laughed, a cruel sound, and grabbed her wrists, twisting her around so her back was to his chest.

"I think you have the spirit I want. I will enjoy you." As she began to scream and thrash, Shizk laughed again, and called to G'nrac, "Pick whichever you want. We can take them to the slopes tomorrow, and I doubt the Great Lord will care if one or two is a little... damaged."

G'nrac waited until the other myrddraal was inside his own tent, before he turned back to the prisoners. They cowered in a heap of stinking human flesh, reeking of terror. He crossed the distance between them, moving so smoothly some thought myrddraal had no bones. Once the humans realized he was coming closer, they stopped screaming, and began to whimper in fear. With a gesture from G'nrac, four trollocs leapt in and un-stacked the people, holding them no matter how they thrashed. Walking an invisible line in front of the humans, his eyeless gaze passing over each, he finally stopped directly in front of the young man, and pointed at him, his finger nearly touching his chest.

The man began to thrash, but G'nrac smiled, and told the trolloc holding the man to take him to the myrddraal's tent. G'nrac laughed, watching the youth struggle. He turned to the other trollocs, letting waves of anger and fear radiate from his eyes into the beasts.

"If I come out, and find one less human, or one missing body parts, thirty of you will die. If more are missing, well... I can feed your bodies to your replacements. I will return." The voice that fell from his mouth sounded like snake skin falling to the ground. He made a quick turn, that should have sent a normal cloak flying, but his hung still about his ankles. The entrance to his tent was lit by a single lantern, to allow shadows for instant travel. Riding the shadows may be more convenient for a single myrddraal, but myrddraal traveling alone, unless by command, were a target to myrddraal with trollocs at their command. The trolloc was already gone, but he had done his job well, leaving the man tied to an X shaped rack in the corner of the tent. G'nrac would have to remember to reward the trolloc, he showed uncommon intelligence.

His attention returned to the young man trapped in the tent in front of him. The trolloc had not gagged the man, and now, rather than thrash and try to fight, the man was weeping and begging. G'nrac walked over to the man, a small smile growing on his pale face. Some light-fools said myrddraal had no lips, but he most definitely did, and enjoyed smiling with them. He allowed his cloak to drop to the ground, where it pooled in a night black puddle. His armor came next, leaving pieces of metal so black it made coal seem as sunshine littered about the tent. Very few humans ever saw what myrddraal wore underneath their armor and cloaks, and the few that did lost the sanity to remember what they saw.

G'nrac wore a black shirt made of treated trolloc hide, it was softer than the finest silks from the South, and was strong enough to deflect what few sword thrusts made it past the armor. His pants were made from slightly thicker trolloc hides. His long black hair dripped off his head hanging limply. He might have been pretty by some Southlander standards, except that where eyes should have peered out of his face, there was nothing but blank skin. The man had stopped screaming and pleading, and was now watching the myrddraal undress.

"W-w-what are you going to do with me?" His voice trembled as he tried to force bravery into it. He was not the standard image of Kandori men. His hair was curly and brown, his skin was tanned, and his eyes were the deepest shade of brown G'nrac had ever seen. Human eyes called him, like a moth to a flame. G'nrac slid close to the man, and leaned in, eyeless gaze meeting warm brown terror filled eyes.

"I am going to have sex with you. I might play with you beyond that, but then you will be taken to the slopes of Thakendar, where your soul will be forged into the blade of a sword. But we won't speak of that just yet." His laugh sounded drier than crumbling leaves. The Kandori man began to scream again.

Hours later, the man had long since stopped screaming, and G'nrac was pulling his pants to his waist, hiding a small tuft of curly black hair. He held the pants up with one hand, and reached for his trolloc hide belt with the other. After a moment, he had all his clothing on securely, armor included. He was ready to leave.

Once he was outside, he began ordering trollocs to strike the camp, which mainly meant striking his tent, grabbing their blankets, and securing the prisoners. Standing in the middle of the camp was Shizk; with the closest thing to a confused look a myrddraal could have on his face. When he saw G'nrac coming, he opened his mouth.

"G'nrac, I could have sworn we captured four women and two men last night, and since I took a woman to my tent, and you took one to yours, there should be two women and two men out here. There are three women and one man. Did one escape, and another woman just appear in the camp? If the trollocs caught her, they would have eaten her. What happened?" Gears began to turn in the myrddraal's head. There was a reason myrddraal were known for their cleverness. Sudden knowledge sprang onto his face, but before he could comment, G'nrac spoke.

"So I prefer to play with the males. We've known each other for years. Just keep it to yourself." He turned to go, but a burble of fury forced its way through Shizk's lips, and the two began to dance. Some men said that blade masters danced when they fought, but that was nothing compared to two myrddraal intent on killing the other. Their blades, darker than night, clashed sending sparks into the early morning sky. It didn't take long. Shizk was angry, and made mistakes. G'nrac was protecting his future and his life, he didn't make mistakes.

G'nrac ordered the trollocs to move out, leaving Shizk's body thrashing on the ground, his own blade thrust through his skull. That had been the first time G'nrac had killed to hide his secret, and few now tried to learn what he did in his tent.

Dropping down from his horse, G'nrac entered his tent. He had moved up in the world of the shadow, and now commanded an entire fist of trollocs. His tent had become more lavish, and now held two X shaped racks, though only one held a man at the moment. The man had reddish hair and pale green-blue eyes. He was one of those Aielmen who found they could channel and went off trying to kill the Great Lord. G'nrac would enjoy playing with this one.

A/N: Let me know if it was good!