Disclaimer: I'm making no money with this. The countries, places, and any characters I don't claim and make up belong to the great (bow down) Robert Jordan, except for those which other writers make up. They belong to those people.

Yes, yet ANOTHER WOT fanfic. I got bored, so I began this. I haven't done someone who channels before, but I think I'm hooked on the whole Warder thing...

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Zarin sat deep with in the White Tower, in the massive library. She had a stack of books in front of her, all opened. One by one, she would pull a book over and skim the page. All those books were copies of the Prophecies of the Dragon. Each was slightly different, but in any translation, the meaning was conveyed. With a sigh, Zarin pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. She had a stack of parchment near her, and a quill and inkwell. Taking notes on the Prophecies had seemed a good idea at first; much easier to carry around than a stack of books that would take an Ogier to move. No matter how good the idea was, Zarin realized that she would need a whole team of scribes to finish her task. She dared not trust anyone enough to show them what she had found, but... Zarin closed the books and slowly picked up a small stack. She turned to walk away, but she paused and looked at her stack of notes. Deciding that warding her notes would be easier than setting down her stack and storing the notes away, Zarin weaved a quick warding.

She hated to do it since she had worked so hard, but the dangers of a darkfriend finding out what she was doing were too great. Zarin walked toward one of the vaults where she had found the copies of the Prophecies. As she put her stack of books back, she pushed down the panic that had momentarily gripped her. The Black Ajah... The Tower had always firmly denied the existence of... that, but Zarin wasn't too sure anymore. Strange things were happening. Repressing a shudder, Zarin turned back. She would be leaving the Tower soon, away from the Black Ajah. However, if she planned on getting into places where she would need help, Zarin had to find a Warder. And soon.

xxxx

Tovra strode confidently along the Tower grounds, sure that her remotely ageless face and flawless composition would help her. She wasn't pretending to be Aes Sedai; oh no, never that; but if some thought she was...

If you looked closely, you could tell she had never trained at the Tower. An occasional unsure glance along corridors, uncertainty lay hidden barely beneath the surface. There was also a slight difference in their faces; where Aes Sedai couldn't have an age to them, you could tell Tovra was around 25, her youthfulness obvious.

She also bore remnants of her years with her people, the many jeweled stones and rings decorating her ears chained to the stud in her nose, jingling slightly when she walked with her swaying gait.

Coming to the large doors, she curtseyed to the Browns guarding it- they could tell she was not Aes Sedai- and entered. She had heard this, the largest library on earth, contained lost legends of the Atha'an Miere. She hoped to find them. Leaving her notched sword breaker and slender double- edged sword at the entrance, she surveyed the vast arrays of books.

Swaying over to a random section, for she didn't know where to look, she started thumbing the scrolls and leather-bound volumes. Suddenly, as she was walking by a bent over woman, the person whirled around, crashing into Tovra.

Tovra went wide-eyed, stepping back and curtseying deeply. An Aes Sedai! She had run into an Aes Sedai! Thumbing her belt-knife as if she would need to protect herself, she stopped herself from embracing the Source. She was old enough to not be put in the Tower as a Novice, but...

Most startling of all, Tovra noticed a haunted look in this strange Brown's eyes. Remembering herself, Tovra curtseyed again.

"So sorry, Aes Sedai," she said smoothly. "I didn't mean to..."

"Are you hurt?"

xxxx

Zarin had just put her books back and was going back for another stack when she turned and ran into someone. She stumbled back a few steps before regaining her footing. Zarin looked at the person and her eyes widened slightly. The woman carried a knife, but that wasn't what shocked Zarin.

Zarin felt... connected to this woman. A feeling that only came when you were near a woman that could channel. "I am quite sorry, child. Walk with me." Zarin headed back to the table she had been sitting at, not looking back. From the woman's reaction, Zarin knew that she would follow.

When she was back at her table and saw that her stack of papers was intact. She sat down and looked at the woman expectantly, waiting for her to sit. "I am Zarin, of the Brown Ajah. What might your name be, child?"

xxxx

"I am quite sorry, child. Walk with me."

Tovra gaped at the Aes Sedai, then quickly hurried after her, medallions ringing. They reached a table piled high with parchments, and Tovra waited for the other woman- Aes Sedai! she thought hurriedly- to sit, then pulled out a chair for herself.

"I am Zarin, of the Brown Ajah. What might your name be, child?"

A Brown. Of course. This was the library, after all...

"May the light shine on you, Zarin Sedai," she began, a proper greeting for an Aes Sedai.

"I am Tovra din Akarn Black Sails, former Windfinder of the Leaping Gull," she replied formally. Realizing she had a death-grip on her knife, she forced her hand to release it, placing her wave and bird tattooed hands carefully on the table.

Maybe she shouldn't have revealed that last part, but she doubted any on that ship would now acknowledge her existence. It didn't matter now.

Tovra gently brushed her straight black hair out of her dark eyes, watching the Aes Sedai's face. Her eyes glinted like black coals, glowing out of her dark face.

Remembering her scent-box made some uncomfortable, she quickly embraced the Source, and wove a net of air around it. Just as quickly, she released it, crushing any desire not to. Realizing what she had just done, her eyes widened, and she stared at the Aes Sedai.

Uh oh...