Lazaruss : " Oh, this is by far my favorite book series. I just can't wait for the sequel. Instead, I'll try and give mr. Jordan a hand. I'd take this opportunity to point out that I have no claims to any of his stories, characters, or anything he published. But first, a prophecy :
Weal of time ; Book 12
Age without number did it so stand, from the last, over the first, to their parent's parents, until he came, unraveling history as he passed. The light in his palm, ripping his path through, burning to ash all that is ours, unmaking and destroying as the prophecies foretell. And the whole world did come to change their hearts, for it was his heart they set out to change. By the salt from our tears did the shackles rust and by the ring of our cries did the chains shatter, leaving him free to do what must be done, and be imprisoned by destiny once more. There is no path but the one he did lay, no choice but to follow and pray.
Chapter 1.a ; Players
Shadow was thick in the wooden corridor covered in red carpet. A few oil lamps on the crimson walls weren't enough to scatter them efficiently, something he regarded highly. A small mercy he couldn't do without. Shadows were his only refuge and escape from the Jailer, for in the shadows was where his power lied. A small power, yet all he had. He had to use what he had left, to use any means necessary just to reach tomorrow. And tomorrow, the day after… And after that…
His soft black boots gave no sound not even over old boards that would squeak to anyone else's, as he was gliding towards the room, swiftly like a viper. Air and draft made no stir on his black hooded cloak, no matter how fast he would stream down the halls or how strong the draft would be. Catching in moments a mild scent, the Halfman paused to sniff the air. He was ordered to avoid being seen by others. Only those that needed to, should. Only the selected few. The sent of human flesh faded amidst the dust replaced by the smell of the room. Mold and dust and dampness. Bare few people still occupied the inn at the Blue Flower, yet caution was a golden quality, now more than ever. No, it was only a breath taken minutes back. Nothing to be alarmed about. He wished he could stop quivering, though.
Ever since the Jailer brought them here, dark times had befallen this establishment. The inn was losing customers rapidly, all complaining about some trifle things, yet fear was what drove them out. At least, rats and pests seemed to avoid this building if such a thing was even possible, considering the situation. But aside from the vermin, rot and decay didn't make that unusual curtsy. Even the plaster started to fall off the walls. He knew better than to assume that this has to do with the Great Lord's braking free, rather than about the last guest that had checked in. The owners were scared spittles too, or they would run away with whatever they could carry, leaving their little party to tend on their own. And they were not stupid enough to ask them to leave, ether.
Not just them. The entire world was afraid. All the signs were there. The day of the Return was shortly at hand. And there will be no shadows to hide. Not for him.
Tonight he saw them. His brethren and servants and their pets, all marching from the Blight, dispatched by Shayol Ghul, the the Voice of the Mountain itself. There was little chance of being caught. No one there would ever suspect him, of all creatures was a spy. He didn't even believe the situation himself ; a Myrdraal not in service to the Shadow ! A traitor amongst the faithful !
The Blight was cold and dark tonight. Takan'dar was spitting enough smoke to blacken the world's sky, and blades forged in the screams of those innocent made the blacksmiths proud. He still had his. The Jailer was kind enough to give it back to him after the first day. They both knew that now that sword will never strike there where the Jailer would not have it. Oh, how he hated and despised him. But there was no choice any more. Even if he would somehow manage to kill him, the Great Lord would never let him be. The Great Lord's mercy was but a trifle less horrible than his punishment. If not more horrible.
Turning around the corner he finally reached the room. A simple guest room for a not so simple guest. There was more light here which did not suit him much, yet he resumed as he went without hesitation. He must be eager to please his new master if he would see tomorrow.
Stopping in front of the door he reached forth and knocked. The Jailer commanded him to knock as it was once done in Aridhol. At first the Halfman didn't know how it was suppose to be, but he learned it after the first few tortures. It was dubious that they even had special kinds of knocking in Aridhol. More likely, the Jailer just wanted to torture him out of boredom, or maybe to find a way to recognize him by knocking he would come up with in pain.
A dry and thin man opened them just enough to get his face through and observe him. He too was different than the last time he saw him. More wrinkles, more gray in his hair, bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep and of course more insanity circling his gaze. It seemed that nothing was immune to Jailer's presence any longer. The former Whitecloak eyed him suspiciously. Despite all the changes he might have endured, the man still turned pale as he'd look at his eye-less face. 'Gaze of the eye-less is fear'. Fear and insanity. A lovely touch upon the human's mind. But the Myrdraal was uneasy about it too ; how much of such an effect did the Jailer have on him ?
" Master Mordeth is expecting me. "; he spoke in a voice that sounded like grinding bones or tearing old leather. It made the man's hair stand up even more. Despite everything, still very satisfactory. Backing a few steps, the former Whitecloak opened the dour all the way letting him through. Giving him one of his best grins through those corpse-white teeth, the Halfman entered.
The room wasn't very big, but the Jailer liked to remain anonymous. It held almost nothing but a bed, a chair, a washstand and a small wardrobe chest. A few messy, hardly touched metal trays stood on the floor near the entrance, for the Jailer no longer took sustenance from there. Poison was definitely out of the question than. It was already spoiling anyway, almost a day old. There was also a girl there, half dressed and staring at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. A woman of the streets, now already dead by a merest touch. Soon she'll start to tremble and than her life will expire. It was pure fear that was killing her, fear in its rawest form. He could smell it from where he stood. But it was so much of it and so crudely pored into her soul, she wasn't even aware of her life fading away. The Jailer had such… mortal… appetites.
The man who called him self Jeraal Mordeth was sitting on an opened window, one foot inside, the other bended on the frame so he could place his elbow at the knee while studying his dagger, a short curved blade with a long gilded handle that held a sizable ruby at the end of its hilt, and blade decorated by serpents of golden threads. Padan Fain, as his last master named him, and there was still a standing order to kill him on sight. The short old man with a big nose and small cunning black eyes that was grinning at the moonlight reflected on the blade of his dagger. The light actually seemed paler as it reflected off of it. Dry gray hair, all messy, never reached his ill fitting noble red coat, and a neatly trimmed beard was the only thing decorating his face.
Myrdraal was waiting for the Jailer to speak to him first, another lesson he was thought from the beginning. It could sometimes last for hours, but if he'd make a sound before he was spoken to, he would suffer pain he did not believe could be inflicted upon his kind. Such lessons were sometimes long, sometimes short, depending on the Jailer's mood, but never without intended results. No matter how long it took, he had to wait for him to start, even though he was so enticed in studying his…
" Shaidar Haran… "; the Jailer spoke suddenly, almost startling him, but the name stretched long and sort of breathy over his tongue :" … The Hand of Darkness… "; he continued :" Have you seen him yet ?"
" No. "; the Halfman spoke :" But his orders are on all the lips in the Blight. "
Jailer turned his cold stare meeting his eye-less face :" I'll ask if lips and orders concern me. "
The Halfman tried not to shudder as he bowed his head. This was a bad omen, one that promised more pain in the near future. Importance of protocol, or a simple desire for fun, it all led to the same. Yet it turned out that Fain had no time to mind his slips of the tongue :
" Where is the army going ?"
" To Torwain's Gap and on south. "; the Myrdraal spoke. It was going to meet an army that rode under a most peculiar banner, yet this time he wasn't going to say a word more than he had to.
" Good. "; Fain muttered :" And the bird of gold shall feed the dark hounds. "; Despite himself, Myrdraal twitched. How much did this man know ? Why did he even send him to investigate if he already had the answers ? Even the Chosen would not waist his time so :" And what news of Morudin ?"
" The Nae'bliss never shows him self out in the opened, "; he spoke :" Yet his orders are the murder of Perrin Aybarah and Matrim Cauton. "; he paused before continuing, for Fain gave him an angry frown :" Rand Al'Thor is to be left for him. "
" Al'Thor !"; Fain snarled, sending chill down his spine :" He'll suffer death of a thousand deaths, and thank me on his knees when I finally give it to him ! But it shall be me ! He is mine ! My hand !"
Even the former Whitecloak at the door shivered. He was quite mad now, yet Jailer's yell would still freeze his toes. Al'Thor was a sensitive topic. The Myrdraal did not know how much of the Great Lord's touch remained within Fain's soul, but he was still compelled to follow him, drawn to him like a blood hound. It kept him awake at night, sometimes screaming curses with al'Thor's name in them at the walls of the room. Most of the time he was able to suppress the urge, probably by the means of his dagger, yet when he would sleep, seldom as it was, his thoughts would drift to that place again. It was such a blow to him when he found out that al'Thor somehow survived the cut from the dagger he had given him the last time they met – Survived - , and now he seemed madder than ever.
" I will not be a hound any more !"; Fain growled :" Rand al'Thor will scream as no one ever has ! No ! I must not let that happen ! He must die quickly… As soon as possible, not to hound me again. Dangerous. He's dangerous, but he must die and must die by my hand ! Let the whole world dies if that is what it takes !"
The Halfman smiled, despite himself. Something within him chuckled to such words. He didn't know what, but there it was. Perhaps the corruption which was seeping from the Jailer was affecting him more than he at first suspected. So similar to that of the Great Lord's and yet quite the opposite. That was a disturbing possibility. Fain was not the Great Lord, yet the Halfman was already feeling a bond to him, much stronger than that he was made with. Yet the evil which was in the Jailer would surely tend to destroy anything such as he. Or maybe just pervert him into… He didn't want to think about that, but his eye-less face glanced at the former Whitecloak at the dour.
Fain was gripping his dagger so hard it made his knuckles pale. It seems as he was fighting the urge to run it through the nearest heart, and the Myrdraal was not able to run. He simply had no strength in him to go before the Jailer was done with him. Rand al'Thor was never a good topic to mention.
" We must speed up the turnings. "; Fain murmured to him self :" Their plans won't see me, no, not me ; a snake in the tall grass. No one will know... Not untill I bite. "; he rose his dagger to admire its blade again :" First al'Thor, and than the others… They will scream. Yes… They will scream… "
The Halfman was so intent on listening to his new instructions, he failed to realize his lips stretched into a smile while the half dressed girl made her last twitch.
Elaida do Avriny a'Roihan was breathing heavily in her time of anger and the hand which held the silver goblet of spiced wine was visibly quivering. Had she squeezed it but a thread tighter, the cup would give under pressure and bend. Her red vestment was absolutely scandalous, showing more bosom and leg than a Domani tavern dancer, yet Tarna was thanking the light Elaida did not drink more than she should, like so many times before. It was hard enough to stand before her like this without that as well.
A letter was on the table, opened and read, just arrived from Andor, from one of the inns in the city. From an Inn ! Duhara Basaheen's report was far from encouraging. The woman was assigned to prevent this ! Elaida thought that Elayne Trakand would be the queen of Andor with an emissary from the Tower as her adviser, so she could be guided on the right path. She had to accept the support of the Tower in order to gain strength against her competition, yet the arrogant child not only declined, but also managed to seize the throne all by her self. The relationship between Andor and the White Tower was as old as their queens. Every queen had been sent to the Tower to become a novice and train to be Aes Sedai, yet Elayne was already making steps to end that tradition. She even publicly declared her support for the Rebels' cause, and that girl Egwene al'Vere an Amyrlin. And Duhara was not even allowed in the palace ! Outrageous !
Tarna tried not to look upset or nervous as Elaida stood up, but her hands adjusted her white skirts unconsciously - she tried not to wear anything red these days but it was a feeble effort. The Keeper stole hung around her neck on what seemed to be threads of spider-web. With Elaida's temper, she wouldn't be a keeper much longer, yet the Tower had to stand, now more than ever ! Tarna had to preserve the Tower, if nothing else, which meant preserving the law, and the law was clear about the Amyrlin Seat. But, Light, sometimes she wished…
Elaida placed the goblet down on her writing desk and walked to the window. Tarna already had pen and paper in her hands to write down yet another decreed. She was certainly writing a lot of them, lately.
" Write out an order for the sisters of Red Ajah ; they are to assign thirteen sisters to be my emissaries in Caemlyn. "
" If I may ask, Mother, "; Tarna spoke :" what is to be their… "
" They are to bring Elayne to me. "; Elaida spoke trying to sound calm, but her cold rage was obvious even with her back turned :" She has violated the Tower law, posing as a full sister, and she is to face her trial and punishment, whatever the cost !"
Tarna gapped. This was beyond madness. Relationships with Andor were already cut, but kidnapping their queen would mean an opened war. And thirteen Red sisters - Thirteen – to be sent to the very border of the Black Tower ? Even if they don't end up captured like the others, it was most unwise to upset those… those Asha'man.
" Mother, "; she spoke :" despite that… "
" She is a rebel against me and a runaway !"; Elaida hissed, giving in to her anger once more despite her efforts :" She has broken the law ! She must be trialled before the Hall ! And if you mention it again, I will have you birched !"
" Yes, Mother. "; Tarna managed
This was going to become more unpleasant very soon for Elaida didn't realize that there were no more Reds. Since the other Ajahs failed to produce their fair share for the work at the harbors, only Reds were now removing the cuendillar-made chains which were blocking the ships from entering. It was Elaida's fault for giving that absurd notice that any Sitter who doesn't assign at least ten sisters a day for the job will be flogged. The Ajah's were furious, as well as they should be. Such a command was an insult, not to mention that it was impossible to assemble that many sisters without emptying the whole Tower. Many of them were busy trying to fix the Wards which were keeping the food from spoiling. With the harbors blocked, the whole island was at the brink of starvation. Soon, there won't be enough food not even for Aes Sedai, and most sisters were doing their best to strengthen the Keeping Wards to withstand the rapid spoiling.
No one wanted to talk about it out loud, but no food could withstand more than a few days any more, not even with the Sisters' best efforts. It was just one of the evident signs of the approaching Tarmon Gaidon. Dead were walking the world, reports of bizarre deaths kept piling up, corridors would no longer lead in the proper directions… On rare occasions, the world around would seem to disperse into fog and grow insubstantiate. Some said that it was the very Pattern, uncoiling. Tarna shuddered just thinking of the notion. And the al'Thor boy was no where in sight. Unless the Tower was re united soon, the world would stand no chance against the looming storm.
" Are you still here ?"; Elaida asked harshly :" Run Tarna, or you'll suffer your predecessor's faith !"
She did not need to say a word more. Tarna flew out of the room, forgetting all about the famed Aes Sedai composure.
But the outrageous proclamation she was about to post was not what had ice circling her vains. The order would still take time to reach the sisters, but even sooner a more dangerous realization was going to hit Elaida square in the face. Within the matter of hours, the al'Vere girl was supposed to be serving Elaida dinner, meek and compliant. At least, that was what Elaida expected. Tarna couldn't even begin to imagine what the woman would do when she finds out that the girl had refused most stubbornly, stating that she'd rather be buried alive. Not to mention that Elaida was not in the good temper, now more than ever, with the Queen of Andor shutting her off.
So, Tarna grabbed on for her last hope, and went to talk some sense into the arrogant child. The girl was still referring to herself as the rightful Amyrlin, even after the Light only knows how many sessions with Silviana. It wasn't the lacking of the switch, but the girl herself ; not once did she gave the slightest sign of waver. If she wasn't requiring healing tree to four times a day, more people would begin to wonder what was Silviana doing as the Mistress of the Novices. Silviana was of late not very favored amongst some sisters, since she achieved such low success with Egwene.
The novice quarters were at the ground floor so Tarna had to climb down from the Amyrlin's study at the top of the highest tower. Fortunately for her, the Keeper's office was just next to it, and she didn't need to get down much, but Tarna couldn't imagine the number of aching knees in the Sitters. Conquering the descent down the staircase, she moved on through the main corridor and on to the Novice Quarters. Egwene was making her apartments there, reduced to a novice by Elaida's order, though it didn't have much effect. All of the novices were curtsying – curtsying !– to Egwene, calling her Mother ! Even some sisters who weren't grumbling about Silviana's slack hand on the girl's bottom, started to speak of her with admiration. For her part, Tarna received a fair share of curtsying ; she was the Keeper still. The white-clad Novices and Accepted with the Great Serpent ring on their fingers, bowed to her pass with a few words of respect as she walked amongst them towards the girl's quarters.
The room was just like any other, except for the two Red sisters guarding the dour. They switched regularly, but Katerine was one of them most often, golden haired and vulpine in a strikingly red dress. Quite a bit of sadistic nature in that one. Maybe she wanted to be the Mistress of Novices. The other was a blond and slender Red, just raised to the Shall by the name of Alegra. Reds were lacking in number too much of late, so Accepted would soon be raised to the shall, Red most often.
" You want to see the girl, Keeper ?"; Alegra asked meekly :" She is resting now after her chores. "
Of course, the girl's chores were cut down today for the dinner in the Amyrlin's study, not to have the girl faint with exhaustion, but there seemed no point any more. Oh, she was birched by Silviana for her refusal, but that never had any effect. And now Tarna decided to try something different.
" I trust there's no problem with that. "; she spoke threateningly at Katerine who was almost glaring at her. All the sisters were on edge against one another even of the same Ajah. The Tower was braking from within like it was made of cards, and if it was not re united soon…
" None, Keeper. "; Katerine said, doing her best to sound curtly, and stepped aside for her to enter, but the light of saidar enveloped her as she briefly seized the source threateningly. Doing her best to ignore it, Tarna entered the room.
The small Novice quarter with a wardrobe, a mirror and a night stand was lit by three candles as a slender girl in a Novice white was stretching over the bed was reading a book of herbs. Shiny black hair tied in a strap was hanging over the front of her shoulder and she was absently combing it with a wooden brush. Egwene didn't even rise the sight at her visitor, continuing her reading without the slightest interruption. Soon they won't be able to beat her with the food so scarce ; healing would exhaust the body and there was none to afford for her replenishment. And besides, there were but a few sisters still willing to send her to Silviana.
Tarna felt the urge to switch her with a strap of air over her bottom. To have her ignore the Keeper of Chronicles like this was outrageous ! Despite everything, she was still the Keeper, even though that title seamed to slip out of her grasp. But that wasn't why she came here ; any sister could have hit Egwene or send her off to Silviana, but that would do no good. Especially considering what she had in mind now. Instead, she made her presence known by clearing her throat. The girl cast a brief glance at her and resumed her reading. Silence retained for the next few moments.
" I figured someone might come to me tonight, "; she spoke just as Tarna opened her mouth to start the conversation :" but I didn't expect it to be you. What can I do for you ?"
Again Tarna swallowed her indignation and spoke as curtly as she could :" I came to ask you to attend the Amyrlin's summons. "
Egwene just chuckled not lifting her eyes from her book :" You'll have to drag me to her by force, and still, I don't think she'll like my behavior. "
" Please !"; it was a surprise to Tarna as well, such opened pleading in her voice. The amount of desperation in her was no longer a secret, but it seamed to hit the mark. Egwene rose her eyes facing her, than marked the page she was on by the book's read strip and closed it.
" Now you begin to see more clearly. "; Egwene spoke as she sat on the bed, placing the book next to her :" But still you refuse to see the truth ; there is no thing under the Light, that would make me bend knee to Elaida or any of hers. "
" If you don't, "; Tarna spoke :" you will be Stilled. "; the word rolled over her tongue with a certain difficulty :" It is the fate of… those like you. You don't want to be Stilled, do you ?"
" If that's what it takes. "; Egwene said simply. Her look never wavered :" I appreciate your concern though. "
Tarna wanted to scream out loud with helpless rage, but she didn't. She had to remain calm, to talk some sense into this girl :" Child,"; she spoke as calmly as she could :" you must know that this defiance will lead you nowhere. Despite all that was in the past, the future looms above us like a shadow. The Tower must be united before this threat, if the world is to have a chance of survival. "
" The Tower whole under Elaida is not near that chance. "; Egwene spoke lightly as if she was answering about the weather outside :" And certainly not a chance against the forthcoming Seanchan attack. "
The girl was still convinced that those Seanchan were about to attack the Tower, but Tarna wasn't so sure. There was a great dispute about the Seanchan ; most sisters did not believe that there was anything like those collars, those a'dam, but that was not the reason to regard them as anything other than a threat. But if they do choose to attack, Tarna doubted it would be any time soon. Light, even moving an army of a sufficient size to attack Tar Valon would require years without Traveling - thank the light they did not have that. And besides, they would have to be blind fools to worry about conquests with Tarmon Gaidon so near. Surely, signs of it were evident even to them.
" Our Eyes and Ears bring in the reports of them withdrawing back to Taraborn and Arad Domon. They don't seem to be making any significant progress in our direction. "; Tarna spoke despite the fact that Novices weren't supposed to know anything about reports. Still, it would do no harm to break the girl's delusions. It was dubious that she was even a dreamer.
A barest thread of smile passed over Egwene's lips as if she knew exactly what Tarna was thinking. " So, I understand that Elayne declared the support of Andor for me. "; Tarna might have gaped if she was any less composed. The news was freshly arrived. How did she know that ? Light, how ? " Don't worry ; once I am acknowledged Amyrlin, the relationships with Andor will be strong again. "
" How did you… "; she began
" I dreamed it. Elayne has won a great victory. And captured many of the Black sisters. "
" There's no report of any… Black. "; Tarna started but didn't complete the sentence. Black Ajah was something that by all knowledge shouldn't even exist. It was an insult to a sister to even mention it in their presence.
" There will be. "; Egwene spoke with an assuring tone :" Your Eyes and Ears didn't miss their attempt to kidnap Elayne, despite them wielding Balefire. Those loyal to me will have them in custody tomorrow. "
This was going no where. They were just drifting away from the subject. Tarna tried to sort her thoughts out.
" If you don't bend knee to Elaida, she will have you Stilled. I don't want to see that, child. Please come to some sense and attend her, or do you hold your hopes in that 'cure' that Leane Sharif received ? She is considerably weaker in the Power than she was, and besides, Elaida won't simply let you go after that. "
The girl was quiet for a while. Tarna thought she had struck a nerve, but when next Egwene spoke, it hit her like a brick square in the face :" Would you like me to teach you the new weaves ?"
Tarna had to sit down. She pulled up a chair and dropped right in :" What are you saying, child ?"
" I am too weak to perform any of them now, but I can still show them to you. "
The thing was that Tarna already knew those new waves. None in the Tower did but her Elaida and Beonin, a rebel spy who came forth. And Egwene and Leane as well. But Elaida, doubting her support, demanded that it remained a secret. Tarna had to play ignorance :
" And what would you ask in return ? My help in some half-brained escape plan ?"
" I have no need for escape. "; Egwene said with a curt smile :" but you are right ; I don't share my discoveries for free. I want your word that you won't reveal those weaves to Elaida or anyone who might. "
" You don't seriously expect me to… "
" … as well as your word that you won't use them in any way against or to hinder those loyal to me. "
Tarna suppressed a gasp, yet her eyes went very wide.
" And finally, your word that you will take extra care not to slip them anywhere where unwanted eyes might see them. I don't want a spy stealing from you what couldn't be stolen from me. If others want to learn, me and Leane will teach them, but no one else will. "
It was good that that chair had a back, or Tarna would have fainted dead cold :" Child, as much as a sister might desire knowledge, she wouldn't betray her Amyrlin for… "; and than she stopped ; She herself might not, but there would be others who would. Yes, there would be a flood from every Ajah, and it won't end there. The difference between Elaida and the Ajahs will go even wider, while most of them would come to regard Egwene with more respect. It was Elaida's fault for wanting the new weaves kept secret. When the Sitters find out, their fury will explode like an illuminator's fireworks. That is, if Egwene makes this offer to others. Tarna hoped that this child would not do something like this.
" Tomorrow morning I will spread my offer amongst the sisters. "; Egwene said, squashing Tarna's hope in an instant. She simply took up her book of herbs again and resuming her reading :" Good night. "
Tarna stood up to go :" If you hold it for a good idea, why haven't you made such an offer earlier ?" she asked, half trying for an opening, though somehow she knew she won't get one.
Egwene flashed her innocent smile at her :" You've convinced me. "; she said :" Besides, now that I have proven myself through Silviana's trials, a position of a teacher won't fall so hard on other sisters. "
Tarna had no more words. She could only leave quietly with the sure knowledge that this young woman was no child at all.
Once she was alone again, Egwene eased her smile. Tonight in tel'aran'riod, at the session of the hall, she'll have to mention that they threatened her with Stilling, as a cause for such actions. And of course, she had to accelerate her plans. Time was growing dangerously short. Last night she had a dream again of the attack on the Tower, and was re assured it would be the Seanchan. Again she saw that strange woman with a sword sticking over her shoulder who offered her aid, and she knew that it was the only chance for her to survive. Perhaps it was the only chance for the Tower to survive as well. She'll just have to keep her eyes opened.
Settling herself back into her bed, she resumed her study of a herb that would counter the forkroot tee. Nynaeve gave her enough bases back when she was teaching her the Wisdom's trade, but there was no sure guarantee of success. Clearly, the forkroot was some king of a sedative, so she had to find some manner of an 'awakening' plant to suppress its effect. Tower gardens, in which she often served her penance, were a rich source of experimental material, and so far the other sisters didn't suspect a thing. But her previous experiments didn't produce the desired results. So far, all of her concoctions have failed miserably, but she didn't let that discourage her. She already had a few new leads, and her tonight's batch was already set. Just a few more minutes to warm a cattle she managed to slip in her dress from the kitchens on the lamp's flame, and boil the herbs, and perhaps her hourly treatments from her hosts would cease to bind her. She did hope so, for she needed every advantage she could spare.
Lazaruss : Since mr. Jordan writes longer chapters, I'll devide my own in sections ( 1.a, 1.b, 1.c... ) I have a pretty good idea of how this should go, but i don't know when i'll post the next one. Lots of obligations...