Well, here's my new fanfic(and I hope I can finish it this time!), the action happens before the story told in WOT's last book, "Winter's Heart", which hasn´t been published yet in my country.Your opinions, good or bad, will be welcomed, so please review!.
I hope you enjoy very much;-)
Disclaimer: WOT belongs to Robert Jordan, and I have no intention of obtaining benefits. It´s only a little entertaiment.....
Prologue: KEEPING THE POWER
The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose near the forest surrounding Caemlyn. It was not the beginning, but it was A beginning.
The wind travelled across Andor to the South-East, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker, it crossed Murandy, touched Illian and arrived to Tear, where the powerful Callandor, The Sword that isn't a Sword, was set in the Heart of the Citadel, remembering to the altive Tear people who was their lord.
The wind travelled on the Sea of Storms, it left behind the Sailors islands and was caught in the forest of a big island whose existence had been forgotten for ages: even Atha'an Miere people didn´t remember the route that let go to that land in a safe way.
The forest had been shaken by the wind surrounded a huge, black and white stone-made construction; it was a group of large fortified towers with different heights: they surrounded a central big tower, much higher than the other ones. Despite of its militar shape, there was a lot of wide windows in the walls of the towers: what is more, some of then had been converted in little balconies. The leaves that the wind had shaken touched one of the opened doors that belonged to a balcony in the third floor.
In front of the opened balcony, a young man was laid on a big sofa, with an opened book on his chest: apparently, he was sleeping a placid siesta in the afternoon; however, as if wind had been a sign, the young man's dream got worse, his forehead became covered with sweat and the book fell on the floor when its owner changed his position rudely. After some shaken minutes, the man woke up sweating and he looked at the roof of the floor with very opened eyes: he was impressed very much due to that dream:
Chaos, death, destruction, darkness spread like an oil spot, the Lord of Darkness laughing when he advances his hands to destroy the Studwork...and his howls of frustration when a storming sword doesn´t let him continue. The dreamer have never seen a sword like that one, and nor he can see the warrior that takes it by the handle, but he can observe the nimbus that surrounds him, where golden dragons and black herons dance, appearing and disappearing. Suddenly, that halo fades and other one appears to surround the warrior, a nimbus that fightens the dreamer, because its white light is stained with grey. The Lord of Darkness laughs, and a black sword appears in his hand, and both enemies get ready to final fight...
The man was quiet a few minutes and, suddenly he woke up resolutely, tidied himself up,dressed himself and went out of his room. His blue-grayed eyes had a look of strong resoluteness, a look that cut the greetings of a few servants who were in the corridors in that time; only some of them dared to make a reverence and to say a quickly "Light brights inside you, Master". At the end of one of the long corridors, a little gong was hanged beside big golden wooden doors: the man took a thin silver slender stick that was hanged in a little hook, and knocked three times on the gong; after, he opened the big doors and kept quiet for a moment, viewing the room.
Located under the glass cupule of the central tower, the room was a huge semicircular auditorium that was ocuppied by fine wooden rows of seats; there were a lot of medium-sized armchairs inside of them: they were grouped by the color of its tapestry. A majestic and high stone table was located in the centre of the room, with nine armchairs behind it: both of central ones were tapestried in black.
The young man in the threshold shook his head, walked through the room across one of the aisles, surrounded the stone table and sat on one of the black-tapestried armchairs. He was waiting.
Little by little, the rows of seats were occupied by other men and their whispers, due to the unusual time, while they were looking at the man sat behind the table with curiosity. Finally, a little group of men entered into the auditorium and stopped before arriving to the rows of seats; inmediately, the men shut up and made a deep reverence. The group walked towards the centre of the room in a suitable, ceremonious march: when they arrived in front of the huge stone table, the man sat in the black-tapestried armchair waked up and greeted. The men in the group greeted, too, and sat in the rest of armchairs: the other armchair in black tapestry kept void.
Only the young man stayed on foot, feeling everybody's lookings. He observed his partners: the room was only half-occupied. Everybody dressed in a similar way, a white overalls with coloured bands and a silver strip encircling their foreheads, a strip with a stone circle surrounding the ancient symbol. The bands and the circle had the same colour.
The young man raised his hand, asking for his partners' attention:
-Brothers, Dream came to me -he breathed and continued-Althoug we know the Lord of Darkness is damaging the outer world, someone has just appeared, someone that can face him, someone that can weave the Studwork as he likes, a man who can channel as nobody has been able to do it, since the Age of Legend.
The young man stopped to speak. The silence could have been cut with a knife, every man in the armchairs seemed to be a leopard ready to jump.
-Brothers, our exile is over. Our lord has come to the world and, soon, he will require all the help we can offer him. We must serve him as we sworn..and enquiry if we have sisters.-The young man had finished whispering but if he had shouted nobody would have heard him, because the auditorium was a chaos: everybody spoke at the same time except the men behind the big stone table; they were looking at the young man firmly, in silence, with pale faces. He would had wanted to calm them, but he was only the messenger: the Wheel turned as it liked, and their turn had arrived in the Studwork of the Ages.
Karial na Albara, thanks of Light Dreamer Master in the green Al'Dal, sat again in his black-tapestried armchair and looked at the wall. The other Masters continued observing him, even the Green Master opened his mouth to speak, but a Karial's movement stopped his attempt: the Dreamer didn´t want to explain anything in that moment. In front of him, the ancient symbol brighted, a beautiful cuendillar piece, one of the few ones that his ancestors had been able to bring here, many centuries ago. The symbol of Power. Aes Sedai's symbol.
And their symbol, too, the symbol belonging to the Din Sedai, the men trained by and to the Power.
Author´s note: I'm sorry if English version has some mistakes, I´m a Spanish speaker and this text is a translation from original Spanish text...^-^
I hope you enjoy very much;-)
Disclaimer: WOT belongs to Robert Jordan, and I have no intention of obtaining benefits. It´s only a little entertaiment.....
Prologue: KEEPING THE POWER
The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose near the forest surrounding Caemlyn. It was not the beginning, but it was A beginning.
The wind travelled across Andor to the South-East, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker, it crossed Murandy, touched Illian and arrived to Tear, where the powerful Callandor, The Sword that isn't a Sword, was set in the Heart of the Citadel, remembering to the altive Tear people who was their lord.
The wind travelled on the Sea of Storms, it left behind the Sailors islands and was caught in the forest of a big island whose existence had been forgotten for ages: even Atha'an Miere people didn´t remember the route that let go to that land in a safe way.
The forest had been shaken by the wind surrounded a huge, black and white stone-made construction; it was a group of large fortified towers with different heights: they surrounded a central big tower, much higher than the other ones. Despite of its militar shape, there was a lot of wide windows in the walls of the towers: what is more, some of then had been converted in little balconies. The leaves that the wind had shaken touched one of the opened doors that belonged to a balcony in the third floor.
In front of the opened balcony, a young man was laid on a big sofa, with an opened book on his chest: apparently, he was sleeping a placid siesta in the afternoon; however, as if wind had been a sign, the young man's dream got worse, his forehead became covered with sweat and the book fell on the floor when its owner changed his position rudely. After some shaken minutes, the man woke up sweating and he looked at the roof of the floor with very opened eyes: he was impressed very much due to that dream:
Chaos, death, destruction, darkness spread like an oil spot, the Lord of Darkness laughing when he advances his hands to destroy the Studwork...and his howls of frustration when a storming sword doesn´t let him continue. The dreamer have never seen a sword like that one, and nor he can see the warrior that takes it by the handle, but he can observe the nimbus that surrounds him, where golden dragons and black herons dance, appearing and disappearing. Suddenly, that halo fades and other one appears to surround the warrior, a nimbus that fightens the dreamer, because its white light is stained with grey. The Lord of Darkness laughs, and a black sword appears in his hand, and both enemies get ready to final fight...
The man was quiet a few minutes and, suddenly he woke up resolutely, tidied himself up,dressed himself and went out of his room. His blue-grayed eyes had a look of strong resoluteness, a look that cut the greetings of a few servants who were in the corridors in that time; only some of them dared to make a reverence and to say a quickly "Light brights inside you, Master". At the end of one of the long corridors, a little gong was hanged beside big golden wooden doors: the man took a thin silver slender stick that was hanged in a little hook, and knocked three times on the gong; after, he opened the big doors and kept quiet for a moment, viewing the room.
Located under the glass cupule of the central tower, the room was a huge semicircular auditorium that was ocuppied by fine wooden rows of seats; there were a lot of medium-sized armchairs inside of them: they were grouped by the color of its tapestry. A majestic and high stone table was located in the centre of the room, with nine armchairs behind it: both of central ones were tapestried in black.
The young man in the threshold shook his head, walked through the room across one of the aisles, surrounded the stone table and sat on one of the black-tapestried armchairs. He was waiting.
Little by little, the rows of seats were occupied by other men and their whispers, due to the unusual time, while they were looking at the man sat behind the table with curiosity. Finally, a little group of men entered into the auditorium and stopped before arriving to the rows of seats; inmediately, the men shut up and made a deep reverence. The group walked towards the centre of the room in a suitable, ceremonious march: when they arrived in front of the huge stone table, the man sat in the black-tapestried armchair waked up and greeted. The men in the group greeted, too, and sat in the rest of armchairs: the other armchair in black tapestry kept void.
Only the young man stayed on foot, feeling everybody's lookings. He observed his partners: the room was only half-occupied. Everybody dressed in a similar way, a white overalls with coloured bands and a silver strip encircling their foreheads, a strip with a stone circle surrounding the ancient symbol. The bands and the circle had the same colour.
The young man raised his hand, asking for his partners' attention:
-Brothers, Dream came to me -he breathed and continued-Althoug we know the Lord of Darkness is damaging the outer world, someone has just appeared, someone that can face him, someone that can weave the Studwork as he likes, a man who can channel as nobody has been able to do it, since the Age of Legend.
The young man stopped to speak. The silence could have been cut with a knife, every man in the armchairs seemed to be a leopard ready to jump.
-Brothers, our exile is over. Our lord has come to the world and, soon, he will require all the help we can offer him. We must serve him as we sworn..and enquiry if we have sisters.-The young man had finished whispering but if he had shouted nobody would have heard him, because the auditorium was a chaos: everybody spoke at the same time except the men behind the big stone table; they were looking at the young man firmly, in silence, with pale faces. He would had wanted to calm them, but he was only the messenger: the Wheel turned as it liked, and their turn had arrived in the Studwork of the Ages.
Karial na Albara, thanks of Light Dreamer Master in the green Al'Dal, sat again in his black-tapestried armchair and looked at the wall. The other Masters continued observing him, even the Green Master opened his mouth to speak, but a Karial's movement stopped his attempt: the Dreamer didn´t want to explain anything in that moment. In front of him, the ancient symbol brighted, a beautiful cuendillar piece, one of the few ones that his ancestors had been able to bring here, many centuries ago. The symbol of Power. Aes Sedai's symbol.
And their symbol, too, the symbol belonging to the Din Sedai, the men trained by and to the Power.
Author´s note: I'm sorry if English version has some mistakes, I´m a Spanish speaker and this text is a translation from original Spanish text...^-^
