Nynaeve cursed silently as she ran through the halls of the White Tower. She had known this was a bad idea.
It had all started a few nights ago, when she was roused from her chambers and summoned to the Amyrlin's office. As she had entered, she saw Egwene sitting behind her desk, looking world weary, but strong. Her eyes seemed ancient in contrast to her young face. Elayne sat before her, her pregnancy immediately noticeable beneath her dress, but beautiful as ever. Both women were pale, but had calm expressions.
"What is so urgent, Mother? It is the middle of the night." she said stiffly. It was still hard at times, to submit herself to Egwene. She had once been her Wisdom, after all.
"It is extremely necessary, Nynaeve. Please sit." Egwene said in an unoffended, but firm, tone. "I'm afraid that I have discovered another of the Forsaken."
Nynaeve immediately felt much more awake. The Forsaken? Light! She had thought their troubles were over with Mesaana, but apparently not. She immediately sat, and asked the Amyrlin to continue.
"I was Dreamwalking in Tel'aran'rhiod, observing the affects the battle with the Black Ajah had had there. Of course, everything was repaired, but I had wondered over the effect of so much Power being used. I was also patrolling to see if any Black sisters that had escaped would show themselves again. Instead, I came across a woman clothed completely in black. I attempted to capture her, but she was extremely strong in the One Power, and shielded me quickly."
"Light! Mother, how did you escape!?" Elayne burst in, before blushing and apologizing quickly.
Egwene smiled, and said, "I happen to be a Dreamwalker of significant skill, Elayne. And to my luck, this woman seemed to have almost no skill at all in Tel'aran'rhiod. Once she realized this, she disappeared quickly. But I have seen her twice more, in the days since. Worried that I wouldn't get so lucky a second time, I have avoided approaching her. But she must be stopped. The three of us must capture her. The other sisters are not prepared for one of the Forsaken. It must be us."
Nynaeve thought through this, her mind racing. What would one of the Forsaken want with the White Tower? They had to know better than to attempt another trick like Mesaana's, didn't they? Perhaps they were after the Tower's store of angreal and sa'angreal? Unconsciously, she began rubbing at her hand, where her angreal usually lay. It was currently in her room. Suddenly realizing Egwene had begun speaking again, she brought her attention back to the woman in front of her.
"We must be extremely cautious. Neither of you are as trained in the Power or the World of Dreams as I would like, but together the three of us are the strongest the Tower has to offer. We could overcome any of the Forsaken, if need be. It is our duty as Aes Sedai, after all." She stated with determination in her eyes. She was no longer Egwene, but the Amyrlin Seat.
They had sat and deliberated until the sky became streaked with grays and yellows that indicated morning. At last, having everything in place, they said farewell and retired to bed. The plan, in its essence, was simple. Each night, they would enter the World of Dreams, and search for the intruder. And so, that evening barely past supper, each retired to their rooms. Elayne, despite being Queen of Andor, was entitled to her own compartments in the Green Ajah's quarters. For several days, nothing of consequence occurred. That is, until the day Nynaeve entered late.
She had been held up by her sister Yellows, many of whom still badgered her to teach them the weaves she had rediscovered for Healing stilling and madness from the taint on saidin. They had been persistent enough to have her yanking on her braid and threatening to hang them up by their skirts if they hadn't let her be. That combined with her vastly higher strength in the Power caused many of them to scurry. But some, namely Romanda, simply would not accept her refusal.
And so, she was extremely late entering Tel'aran'rhiod, using one of the better dream ter'angreal Elayne had crafted in the last few months. She appeared in her room, and immediately sent herself down to the storeroom where they had agreed to meet, with the logic that the Forsaken had likely been looking for angreal and sa'angreal to steal. Shifting to the end of the hall, she entered the largest storeroom in time to see the Amyrlin fall.
Egwene and Elayne were there, surrounded by the glow of saidar. She could feel from where she was standing that they were at their absolute limit without the aid of an angreal. Elayne was beating at a shield that was trying to fasten around her, and Egwene was barely holding off the attacks of a woman shrouded in black. Weaves streaked around them quickly, cutting into each other, but Nynaeve could tell Egwene was tiring. Her weaves were a little messy, and she was breathing heavily. As Nynaeve embraced the Source, glorying in the life it gave her; Egwene glanced her way, relief filling her face.
She never saw the weave of Air flying towards her.
Nynaeve and Elayne watched in horrified silence as Egwene was thrown through the air by the powerful weave, finally slamming against the wall near the entrance and sliding down. Blood trickled down her scalp and the angle of her arms told Nynaeve that they were broken. She didn't appear to be breathing.
It took mere seconds for the shock to be replaced by rage. She screamed and sent a raw, half formed weave of Power at the intruder, attempting to rip them to shreds. The woman cut it with difficulty and, apparently deciding not to face this newcomer, scooped an object off the ground and ran out of the other entrance.
Nynaeve and Elayne raced for Egwene, Nynaeve already preparing an immensely strong Healing. All of the powers snapped together in a shimmering curtain around Egwene, and her wounds vanished, but she didn't awake. Instead, she faded from Tel'aran'rhiod altogether.
"Light! Is she going to be okay?" Elayne asked worriedly.
"I think so. I Healed her in time to prevent death. But I'm still worried…" Nynaever replied.
"Right, I'm going to go check on her in the waking world."
"No, wait Nynaeve! I'll go. It makes more sense." Elayne hurriedly said.
"What? Why?" Nynaeve asked, confused.
"Because I'm not nearly strong enough to fight this battle myself, and we must stop that woman! She stole a ter'angreal. I haven't had enough time with these ter'angreal, but that one seems to affect Tel'aran'rhiod around the user. Egwene couldn't impose her will on her. But it also seems to prevent shifting from place to place. She must still be in the Tower!" Elayne spoke hurriedly, and her voice rose continually as she spoke.
"Okay. You awaken and take a Yellow sister to see Egwene. I will capture this woman." Nynaeve said, trying to keep her nervousness from showing. Light! All by herself? Moghedien was bad enough! This woman was far stronger. But that couldn't be helped. Steeling herself as Elayne faded, Nynaeve hurried after the woman who had caused all of this.
Now, as she ran through the halls of the Tower, she kept attempting to find the intruder, looking around corners so as not to be taken by surprise. She attempted to track her the way that Egwene had attempted to teach them, but it was like running headfirst into a brick wall. Despairing, she attempted it again. Nothing. Getting an idea, she hesitantly tried once more, but this time attempting to feel around the woman's presence.
There. The Hall.
Hiking up her skirts, she ran as fast as she could, shifting through hallways rapidly. She didn't want to shift directly into the Hall, lest the intruder be prepared for her. At last coming to the large doors, she took a deep breath, and shoved the doors open, holding onto saidar for life, which it was.
Inside, the air seemed darker than usual. That darkness was centered around the intruder, who had finally seen fit to take off her shroud. Well cut black dress, skin the color of freshly turned earth, and short, silky hair that stopped above her slim shoulders. It was Semirhage.
Nynaeve gasped loudly. It wasn't possible! Rand had killed her with balefire! She was so shocked that saidar almost fled from her. She managed to grasp the necessary concentration by her fingernails.
"Ah. You. You're that Nynaeve girl, aren't you? Yes. Moghedien quite despises you." Semirhage said, chuckling at the last bit. "She won't like that I was the one to kill you. So thank you for the opportunity."
"How are you alive!? Rand al' Thor killed you with balefire! Not even your master can save you from that!" Nynaeve called from halfway across the room. She was still holding saidar, so much that she felt the warning sign, the sweetness almost too much, like barbs hooking into her flesh.
"Foolish girl. I am Chosen. My abilities and skill in the Power are beyond any from this Age. You thought me easy to be rid of?" Semirhage seemed almost insulted. She spat these words at her.
"Now, bow down, and I shall be more pleasant towards you than most. That is to say, if you kneel, I won't peel your flesh off as I Heal you, or slowly replace your blood with the poison of a deadly serpent." Semirhage's smile grew more and more sadistic as she spoke, and Nynaeve couldn't decide whether she was more frightened by the words she had said, or the glee on her face as she said it.
Deciding to take her advantage, just as Semirhage stopped speaking, Nynaeve began weaving. A sharp, quickly coiled flow of Spirit hurled towards Semirhage to cut her off from the Source forever. It met a shield just as strong, and Nynaeve felt an immense pressure from Semirhage's side of the shield. It took all of her strength, but she was able to keep the shields at a standstill.
If only she could split her flow just a small amount! She could hurl a fireball at Semirhage and it would be over. But keeping herself alive took all of her, and left no room for anything else. Reaching slowly into her pocket, she pulled out the bracelet and rings angreal. She had been hoping to give this to Egwene or Elayne to use in the fight, but she was now happy she hadn't had the chance. Slipping it on, she pulled more saidar through it, as much as it would allow her.
With this, she had the advantage. She saw the surprise on Semirhage's face when she began to weave more of the powers. Earth and Fire, with touch of Air sent an explosive wave towards Semirhage. Nynaeve finally had her!
Semirhage was no longer shocked. She saw the deadly weave moving toward her and merely smiled. Then, her shield suddenly split into three whips of Spirit that sliced through Nynaeve's shield and cut her other weave as it fell around her.
Nynaeve wouldn't be discouraged though. She began weaving again. Flows of Spirit to cut Semirhage's weaves, Air and Water to create razor like shards of ice that whipped around her opponent. She also hurtled raw Fire and Earth weaves to throw her off balance and destroy the terrain around Semirhage. She was met at every turn by weaves that, while less powerful, were much more skilled. And the angreal was tiring Nynaeve. Holding so much saidar felt like she was on fire. No single person could hold so much life in them, it wasn't right! But the downside was that she was assuredly getting fatigued much faster than the other woman.
Suddenly, Semirhage snarled, and redoubled her attacks. Nynaeve's weaves fell to shreds around her, and suddenly her angreal didn't seem to give her much of an advantage at all. Despite holding much more of the Power, Nynaeve was suddenly on the defensive, as wicked looking weaves of all five powers bombarded her. She had to focus primarily on cutting those weaves with Spirit. A shield of Air would be useless; Semirhage would just cut right through it.
Nynaeve's breathing became labored. Her body was becoming more and more exhausted the longer this went on. She desperately felt like sleeping. She didn't have much time. But how to launch her assault?
"You are weak." Semirhage snarled, though she was breathing heavily as well, and sweat ran down her face. "What a disgrace. Strength in the One Power doesn't mean anything. Those who are great are born for greatness. The result is inevitable. I am one of the Chosen, the most renowned Healer the world has ever seen, and you? You are a simple country wench from an insignificant village."
Nynaeve surprised herself by staying calm. A remark like that would typically set her teeth on edge and her gripping her braid in fury. But that anger was superseded by a revelation. Semirhage's arrogance was her greatest weakness. Of course! She vaguely remembered Cadsuane's method of dealing with Semirhage. It had been most effective. If only she was already shielded! But she didn't have that luxury. She had to find her own means of attack.
Hoping to distract her opponent, Nynaeve split her flow again, reaching ten. Semirhage groaned with the effort, but matched her. Then, Nynaeve began speaking.
"You believe me to be a simple country wench, do you? I shall cure you of that notion. I am Nynaeve al' Meara, Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah. I will not fall to you, Forsaken. How great can your power be, when I, an ignorant child, can match you? And what of your master? Is his power not infinitely greater than your own? You are the fool, Semirhage. You cannot win." Nynaeve gathered herself for one last attack, hoping against hope she would prevail.
Semirhage screamed in rage, hurtling weave after weave at her. But that was what she had aimed for. Instead of countering with the Power, she ducked and rolled as the weaves flew into the tile behind her. Before Semirhage could puzzle out what had happened, Nynaeve wove a shield with every scrap of saidar in her, and slammed it into place. Semirhage's aura winked out, and she slumped to the ground. Nynaeve didn't even think she could wrap her in Air. Light, but she was exhausted!
The ter'angreal clattered to the floor in front of Semirhage, and Nynaeve looked up just in time to see her lift a vial to her lips.
"No!" She shouted, hurtling towards the now slumped over Forsaken. Her eyelids began to droop, and her heavy breathing intensified. Bracing herself, Nynaeve saidar again, this time into Delving. The weave told her what she already knew: Semirhage had poisoned herself. Cursing, she wove for Healing.
"It's no use… modified the poison myself. Resists… the One Power…" Semirhage whispered, managing to look triumphant.
Nynaeve sent weave after weave into the woman. Nothing worked. She imagined herbs beside her and began mixing them, only to look back and see Semirhage's eyes glazed over, lips parted as if in awe of what she couldn't see.
As she watched, Semirhage began to glow. It was not like the glow of saidar. More like the muted glow of the last coal in a fire, or a candle in a tempest. She flickered, and was gone. After a long time, Nynaeve rose to her feet unsteadily, looked around one last time, and released herself back into the waking world. There was no time to wonder about what had happened today, except one less Forsaken plagued the world. Tarmon Gai'don was coming. She needed to prepare.