The Forsaken – Part Two
She Who Dwells In Dreams
She knew that she had always commanded the world of Tel'aran'rhiod. She knew that far better than any other. A forbidden skill maybe, but it was useful. There were Dreamers who patrolled the sleeping world of dreams, but she avoided them with ease. She had much more practice than them.
At the moment, it felt like she was lost in that world of dreaming, but she could not think how. The last she remembered was joining with Beidomon and the others and focussing their force of saidin and saidar, both halves of the One Power, onto that area of the Pattern that they knew was thinnest between themselves and that untapped resource of power behind the fabric of reality.
And then, nothing.
Mierin Eronaile was stood up – she could tell that at least – and she was conscious. So, not Tel'aran'rhiod, then.
Blackness, darkness thicker than night surrounded her on all sides. There was no relief of light through the oppressive darkness. Mierin felt as though she was being slowly asphyxiated by the closeness of the tar-black atmosphere.
`Hello?' Her voice, high but strong, sounded deadened, even to her own ears. `Hello? Is anyone there?'
No echo, no acoustics in this place, wherever it was. The flattened quality of the sound only served to accentuate the dead feel to the air she breathed –
There was a moment of almost-panic, when Mierin realised that she was not breathing. No breath, no pulse, no signs of life.
`I'm dead,' she said to herself, once her panic had died away.
She cast about again, wildly this time, trying to penetrate the darkness around her simply by looking.
For a moment, Mierin Eronaile tried to think what to do. Letting panic cloud her mind would not help the situation any, and she had to decide what to do. If this was what being dead was, she had to get away. Somehow.
But what could she do? She took stock of her situation – and found it grim. The only thing other than herself that was of any use – her beauty and long black hair that framed her ethereal face were of no use here – was her possession of the One Power.
After a moment, not sure what she was going to do with it, she embraced saidar.
Instantly, she felt as though her grasp of the Power was torn away from her, the warm comforting light of saidar ripped from her grasp, staggering her, casting her to the unseen but tangible ground, where she screamed out in pain at the loss of the Power. And a voice, sleepy but filled with pure power, roared from the darkness.
`Who disturbs me?'
The sheer surprise of hearing another voice managed to get through Mierin's terror and pain. She forced her panic down again, and looked up, even though there was nothing to see. `Who is speaking?'
The voice roared out again, stronger now, but still almost lazy, as if the speaker was newly awoken. `This is my domain,' it roared, `and I do not tolerate intruders who would ask impertinent questions of me! I say again, who disturbs me?'
Mierin could hear the tone of the voice, but she realised that it was not being expressed vocally, or in any way she understood. The speaker communicated directly with her mind, crashing its message home with the force of a tidal wave.
It was at this moment that Mierin realised that she had collapsed to a prone position under the force of that voice. `I am Mierin Eronaile!' she screamed out to the darkness.
`Your stupid names mean little to me,' replied the unseen one.
Mierin screamed shrilly again, horror tearing through her voice as the unseen presence dipped into her mind, extracting the information cruelly with pincers of steel that raped her memory and withdrew, leaving her clutching at the ground, as if she could dig through the darkness and escape this terrible presence.
There was a silence for a moment, as Mierin sobbed silently, before the voice spoke again, filling Mierin's mind again, leaving her stunned on the ground, chest heaving but no breath filling her lungs. `Much has changed since last I awoke. Another Age has rolled on and the Creator's force reigns supreme here.' Mierin felt as though dark eyes were watching her as the voice returned to itself. `You call yourself a scientist?'
Mierin nodded silently, still barely recovered from the mental rape. She crawled to her knees, supplicant before this force which tore her mind apart as easily as she might kill a fly. `Please, tell me where I am – who you are?'
Apparently her pitiful supplication had either amused or sufficiently assuaged the force's anger. `Your attempts to break through the Pattern have succeeded – I congratulate you. Only two others have managed even half of what you have achieved. The next Age will be mine.'
Mierin could not understand what the voice meant. `The next Age? Please –' She was cut off as the roar of power filled her again. Indeed, it had happened so often that she was almost getting used to the sensation.
`You, Mierin Eronaile, have bored a hole through the very fabric of reality and entered my prison of the Ages. I am Shai'tan, the Shadow, the very antithesis of the Creator. I was imprisoned here at the dawn of your time, when the Creator brought your puny world into being and gave your race life. Until now, none has managed to create such a wide opening onto the world as you. I thank you.'
Mierin Eronaile's mind reeled at the enormity of what she had done. `The joining of the Source? Was that you we detected?'
`So your memory tells me. Looking for a way to extend your control of the One Power?' The voice had become a sneer, mocking her and her colleagues' work. `Your greed, whatever the Age, is the only constant in the Universe. You were led to my cage by the scent of new power. There is no joining of saidin and saidar. They are the two opposing halves of the One Power which drives the Wheel of Time – they cannot join.'
Mierin stared up into the darkness, feeling the bitterness of failure overwhelm her. Even in the midst of this place, she still felt the defeat of her objectives and the scientific failure which had resulted in her death. `Then I have failed –'
`Not so,' said the voice of the Shadow. `You have a new success to call your own. You have allowed me to touch the world. I can reshape it, remould it to my own image. I can grant you power and domain beyong imagining. I can grant you immortality.'
Mierin stood up slowly, forcing her battered body to its feet. `None of that it worth anything to me. I control the world of dreams and I touch the One Power. What else could I need?'
The voice became a seductive hiss. `There is one thing. Your heart's desire.'
Mierin's breath caught in her throat as she realised what the Shadow meant. `Lews Therin?'
`He can be yours,' answered the voice, still low and soft. Mierin felt the rage and denial rise, bitter and familiar, within her soul.
`He denied me! Married that slut, Ilyena! I should have had him!' She looked up again, tried to focus on a shape, but failed. `Can you give me him?'
There was a smile in the voice now. `We both need Lews Therin Telamon – the Dragon.'
Mierin frowned at the odd reference. `The Dragon? What is a dragon? Why is Lews Therin –'
`No more questions!' The thunder of the Shadow made Mierin cringe with fear. `The Dragon is the only one who can stop me now! I need him for my own! I must escape, to touch the world and make it my own!'
Mierin forced herself to stay calm. As a scientist, she tried to force herself to analyse the situation. She was alone, undefended by the Power before a force which could destroy her almost without thinking, one that declared itself to be the Shadow. And one which promised to spare her and hand her Lews Therin for ever. And opposed to this was the realisation that what she stood before was pure, unrestrained, evil incarnate. And the realisation was cast aside like chaff before a storm.
She set her former life aside, her undistinguished former existence that had rendered her nothing, not even the third name that she believed her due. Lews Therin would understand that she was to have him for eternity. Ilyena would be no more.
Mierin nodded slowly, although she was sure that she could not be seen. `Tell me what I must do.'
The voice of the Shadow filled her, twisted her soul and claimed her as it's own.
Ishamael, once Elan Morin Tedronai, smiled to himself. A glimmer of light appeared before him and a tall woman stepped through and confronted him.
She was dressed in robes of purest white, and long trailing black hair framed a face that captivated his attention for a moment, with its pure beauty. That was until he saw the coldness in her eyes, and the aloofness with which she stood.
He did not recognise her, only knowing that another adherent to the cause of the Shadow would join him here at Shayol Ghul. Already, only three weeks after his own announcement at the conference, and five weeks after the initial drilling of the Bore, the sunny tropical island of Shayol Ghul had become wracked by storms and darkness filled the sky. A volcano had ripped its way through the earth, reaching for the sky, belching forth lava and volcanic dust that spread and covered the island.
Despite this, Elan Morin felt the air comfortable and cool to his breath and its touch upon his skin. He stared again at the woman before him, who was now gazing at him coolly, but with recognition in her eyes. `I know you, don't I?'
`The Great Lord has undoubtedly told you the name he gave me,' said Elan Morin. `It is who I am now.'
The woman shook her head. `No, I do know you. Elan Morin Tedronai – the philosopher.'
`That is who I was,' said Elan Morin. `I am now Ishamael.'
The woman nodded. `Mierin Eronaile was my name.'
Ishamael looked stunned for a moment before he laughed aloud. `I believed you dead when the Sharom exploded!'
Mierin frowned. `Destroyed? The Sharom was destroyed?'
`The very moment you broke the Pattern, my dear,' said Ishamael. `It shattered like an egg – I was there. You should have seen Lews Therin's face when I told him you were in there!' He peered closely at her. `You have changed much since last I saw you.'
Mierin struggled to look at the man before her. Lews Therin had been there? `How long?'
`It has been five weeks since I stood on the hill at V'Saine and watched the Sharom explode.'
Mierin half-turned away from Ishamael. `It only felt like an hour at most. The Great Lord spoke with me there.'
Ishamael nodded slowly, understanding what had happened to the beautiful woman before him. `You were cast into his domain when the Bore was drilled?'
Mierin nodded. `He showed me the world and how I would help him reshape it. He changed me, enhanced my powers – he has given me everything I could want.' Except Lews Therin.
`And he renamed you,' stated Ishamael. `And told you to announce yourself.'
`No,' said Mierin with a faint smile. `He told me to remain in the shadows, to do my work in the world of Tel'aran'rhiod until he instructs me differently. And he did not rename me.'
Ishamael frowned, but Mierin continued, turning to face him, her voice growing stronger and more confident. `I will have a new name, though, for myself. I control the world of dreams and I will be its ruler for eternity. I am the daughter of the night.'
Ishamael smiled slightly again. `A good name.'
Lanfear smiled back at him. `It is mine now. And the world will know it forever.'
And so will Lews Therin.
Turning to the sea, they reaffirmed their oath to the Great Lord of the Dark. In their minds, the laughter of the Dark One resounded like a storm in the clear air as his first two servants knelt to supplicate themselves before his might.
These two were the first, but it was a long time before any would join them to serve the Shadow and to bring down the Age in which they dwelt.