Al'Ric stood with his hand outstretched, waiting for the Warder to take hold. Slowly, with much apprehension, Tovra grasped his hand. He could feel almost instantly, the wonderful joy within him, surge through their clasped hands. He knew that he was passing something to the Warder, but didn't know exactly what she would get.

In a way, it was a relief, to pass off some of the feeling that he had. He knew that Tovra would be better off. The feeling was akin to being healed, only many times stronger. He felt great.

Noticing the look of wonder on Tovra's face, he could only smile. He hoped that this would build trust between the two. The Warder had considerable power. She was definitely someone to have with you and not against you.

Looking around, he could only shake his head. So much wasted here. So many lights extinguished. The Shadow would fall in the end. He remembered the voice in his head, and from that memory, he was sure of himself, and of the outcome of this War.

"Tovra, we are done here. The Waygate cannot be used by the Shadowspawn anymore. The wards that I have set, cannot be seen by others. We should be on our way. I will gather what is left of the Asha'man and Aiel. Will you discuss with Zarin Sedai whether you two will come with us? We go to fight the Shadow, wherever that may be, but I do know where we are needed now. It will be dangerous, and we may perish. We will be ready to go before the Sun is half way up." He waited for her reply.

xxxx

Hanal looked back over the mountains, wondering what had gotten into him. "Some wise man I am, charging into adventure thinking it would just be like the stories, where good always won and evil defeated," he muttered to himself. None of them mentioned that sleeping under a bush hurt your back, or a dozen other things that he just realized about roughing it in the mountains. Around him the morning was just dawning, and the birds that had been resting took flight. He packed up his bedroll, its muted browns looking like it had been made of dirt. The redberry bush that he had camped near rustled, and he turned, sword flashing in the sunlight as he pivoted smoothly to meet what came. The man wore some odd clothing, and he had a strange black viel wrapped around his head. "A--a-aa-a-iel," Hanal stammered out. "P-p-ll-ease don't kill me." The Aiel replied by taking off his veil, but just because he did not mean to kill me didn't mean he liked me.

"You are far from your homeland, Treekiller," he said, disgust dripping through his voice. It was then that Hanal noticed that he an arrow stuck into his thigh, its black feathers looming over the rusty stain of dried blood where it had entered.

"Well met. I am Hanal Doinera, and you are..."

"I am Taramor, a Jumai Goshien, of the Stone Dog society," the tall Aielman said in a tone that could have done for talking to a rat. The man turned, to clearly show the wound from the arrow. "I would not speak to one of your kind, Oathbreaker, but there are some reasons that one must."

"I understand," was all that he said in a terse reply. "What would you have of me, Aielman?"

"Simple, I need transport to my camp not far from here, I was wounded in a battle, and went the wrong way. If I continue unaided, I will most likely die. You can stay at my camp if you help me get back. From what I have seen here, you will run out of food soon, and there is food at my camp."

"Done, water oath on it." The Aielman looked surprised that Hanal had offered to swear on it the Aiel way, and disgusted that he had done it wrongly.

"Till water is gone, till shade is gone, till pact is done, and we wake from the dream," he replied by rote. They journeyed for three days, Hanal following Taramor's instructions as he helped the Aiel along through the undergrowth. The days were hard going, and Hanal was lucky enough to find us a spring for fresh drinking water. They camped there, not too far from where Taramor remembered his camp being. The next day they woke up and began again their trek toward his camp. They passed into a clearing, where bodies were littered around a strange doorway.

A man in a black coat stepped forward. "Hello, my name is Platis, and welcome to the camp of the waygate guardians..."

xxxx

Al'Ric turned from the Warder and was striding through the night's battlefield. Looking around there was death and destruction everywhere. Huge gashes in the Earth, along with one portion of the hilltop where the camp had been was blown completely away. The surroundings told the story. Much of the One Power had been used here. Closing his eyes, he could still see the streaks of fire and lightning burning across his vision. Trolloc bodies lay everywhere. The Halfmen lay scattered also. The Asha'man were busy using Saidin to move the dead Shadowspawn into large mounds, and then setting them ablaze.

The Aiel were gathering their dead. Only a score of them had survived from the three score that had begun the battle. They sang their songs to praise their dead, but he knew that they would not dwell upon the dead for long. He could see Trenchan and the Aiel leader Delphin standing a few spans from where the others were. Crossing the distance to them, he put hand to heart and bowed slightly to them. "I feel for your losses. I'm sure they were all good men. Take solace though, Stone Dogs, in that we have beaten the Shadow back again. This was a battle to be sung about for many years."

The Aiel looked at him, and Trenchan spoke. "I see you, Al'Ric. Yes, they were good men, but we all must wake from the dream someday. Let your heart not be heavy."

Al'Ric bowed to Trenchan. "Well met Trenchan, I will not let my heart be heavy. There is still more to be done. We must pursue the Shadow into other realms of this world. I hope that you and Delphin will come with us, so we can dance the spears again."

The Aiel leader smiled, well as close to a smile as an Aiel can produce. "I see you Al'Ric." Delphin said. "Yes, many have woke from the dream, but we are ready to go where the spears call us. If you call us to dance the spears, we will surely follow you and your band to Shayol Ghul, if need be." All Al'Ric could do was nod his head.

"That might be where we end up, Delphin. I will pursue the Shadow until it is no more, or until I wake from the dream myself. May you both find water and shade this day." Bowing again he walked on.

He could count four Asha'man. Only four. Sixteen were dead now. A hard price to pay, he thought. This was not an easy life, and they had known that before they joined. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel will. All was part of the pattern. With that, he put the thought from his mind.

Back on top of the hill, he made plans to have the camp broken down, what was left of it. Seizing Saidin, he felt the rush of the fire and ice avalanche, and he reveled in the feeling of power. He could hold so much. So much. Since his near death, and the visit to the small room where the voice had spoken to him, he knew that he could hold as much now, as if he were channeling through the little man with the sword angre'al. He let the power wash over him. With his vision enhanced by Saidin, he scanned his surroundings. There, off to the south and East, an Aiel and another man had emerged from the scrub, and were talking to one of the Asha'man. What is this about, he thought. He would find out. Down the hill he went. He would speak to the new arrival.

Nearing the newcomers, he saw that Platis was the one who had met them. "Hail Platis, Stone Dog." Turning his head, he let his gaze fall upon the new arrival. Al'Ric stood head and shoulders over him, but size was not everything. The man had a look to him that he knew how to fight. "I am Al'Ric." He said to the man. "What brings you to our camp, stranger?"

xxxx

The man strode forward, with a deadly flowing grace that he had only seen once before, when the false Dragon took the City. "I am Al'ric, what brings you to our camp stranger?" the man asked in his Borderlander accents. Hanal met his icy gaze with one of his own, a challenging stare that he had perfected in the courts of Cairhien. Hanal stood there for awhile, studying the man. This 'Al'ric' was in a slightly bloodstained black coat, and looked like he needed a shave. On one side of his high collared coat was a silver sword, and on the other, a flowing snakelike form done in red and gold enamel. And suddenly Hanal remembered what was so familiar about that pin. That was the strange creature from the Dragon Banner! This man was one of those blackcoats, doing the horrible will of their horrible master. It was then that Hanal really took some time to look around the camp.

Not much of the rest of the camp was in that good condition either. The ground was littered with corpses, and it looked as though lightning had struck the ground in several places. There were things that looked like what could have been trolloc puppets at a festival, except that these were dead and decaying. Hanal thought to himself, If those are puppets, then let me be burned by the light itself. Hanal was standing there, is his muted browns and blacks, looking for all the world like he had just stepped out of a dust cloud. He hadn't shaved in a week, was covered in dust, had leaves and twigs in his hair.

He was from Cairhien, but had fled to Almoth Plain. There he had sat, wasting time like some damn fool who had one leg and half a brain. His gold ran out, and he was forced to sell most of his belongings to pay for the bill at the inn where he was staying. Hanal had left his two retainers there, and went on alone. He had started off for Ghealdan, high in spirits and low on coin. But after a short while, he heard about the prophet fellow, how he was making everyone bow down to the Dragon, and if you did not he would have you hanged. It was then that Hanal decided to change his course.

He knew that his aunt's husband was from Shienar, and that they had moved there. He could most likely go to them and they would take him in until he left to go back to Cairhien after Al'thor was gentled by Aes Sedai. Hanal was sure that Aunt Asalamere would let him stay for the next few years. So that was how he found himself in the mountains above Shienar, talking to a Dragonsworn Sadain-user.

Pulling his mind back to the present, Hanal remembered that he had been asked a question. He should not let his hostility show towards this Dragonsworn, not now, when it would leave him open to attack against superior forces. "I am Hanal," he said in a voice that could have a higher noble proud for the concealment it gave his true feelings. "I have come at the request of Taramor, the wounded Aiel who I escorted back here. He in return promised me that I could find water and shade here. I need some food, as I am running low and have had to ration myself. I am on my way to Fal Moran, to visit my Aunt Asalamere." The other man stared at him as though he was waiting for something more. "I ask that you will let me stay here with you, and there is always safety in numbers. If any more trollocs come, I am as good a blade as most men. By the way, who are you, and how did you come to in these parts?"

That would be enough for him, Hanal thought to himself, half of the truth would have to do for now, and this was not a man you would trust information that could be used against you by a skillful player in the Great Game. He paused, and looked to the other man for an answer...

xxxx

Tovra felt Zarin wake up, in the back of her mind, and her headache recede, but the feelings were caught up in the surge going through her. Her hand connected her to the Asha'man, and she felt... happy. Happy for one of the first times since she had been cast away from her own people... the joy was comparable to using an angreal, life flowing through her as water flows through a net. And there was something new... somehow, she felt more... balanced. Stowing the feeling in the back of her mind, she made a mental note to figure out what it meant later. She smiled back into Al'Ric's face, bliss written, she knew, on her own. He wasn't that bad, for a filthy male Channeler...

As they released each other, he spoke. "Tovra, we are done here. The Waygate cannot be used by the Shadowspawn anymore. The wards that I have set, cannot be seen by others. We should be on our way. I will gather what is left of the Asha'man and Aiel. Will you discuss with Zarin Sedai whether you two will come with us? We go to fight the Shadow, wherever that may be, but I do know where we are needed now. It will be dangerous, and we may perish. We will be ready to go before the Sun is half way up." He paused, expecting an answer, but then whirled away, heading towards what was left of his band. Shaking her head, she turned, heading back to the glowing Zarin.

Standing before her, she finally sheathed her sword after wiping away black Trolloc blood on a sodden rag. "He wants to know," she said softly once she was finished, "If we shall go with him. Al'Ric, is it?" She paused, looking intently at her Aes Sedai. Looking back, she noticed Al'Ric was talking to a roughly-dressed man. "Will we?"