Chapter 2

It was thought by many that Micora Sedai of the Brown Ajah should have been a Green. She didn't have the trademark unawareness that most Browns shared. Instead of staying in the Tower, studying events long past, as far back as the Age of Legends, Micora preferred to learn in a more hands-on style, experiencing unusual occasions that the average person, or even the average Aes Sedai, would never have dreamed of.

Though Micora did indeed have the thirst for knowledge that initially drove her to choose her Ajah, she also had many characteristics of the common Green. She was often hasty and known for jumping into unfortunate situations without thinking first. Like a Green sister, Micora prepared herself for Tarmon Gaidon. When the coming of the Last Battle shocked all of the other Browns, Micora would already be out on the battlefield, blasting Shadowspawn with complex weaves that she had picked up on her travels.

Indeed, the Brown sister knew an excessive amount of fighting weaves, surpassing many of the Greens with this knowledge. As a result, she had more friends among the Battle Ajah than among her own. There were few friends for her inside of the Brown Ajah, as many were convinced that Micora didn't care for her Ajah, and were afraid that Micora would go against all Brown standards. Micora wouldn't have; she was loyal to her Ajah, no matter what they thought. She wasn't about to start bonding six different men as Warders, or go to the Blight to blast Trollocs on holiday. No, she was happy as a Brown, and wouldn't have had it any other way.

Micora was strong in the Power. She had been raised to Accepted after four years, and all the way to the shawl after only five. She had a rare affinity for weaving Fire, which was usually a unique affinity to men. As a result, however, her Water couldn't usually exceed a half trained Accepted. But the battle weaves didn't usually use Water, so Micora didn't have any difficulty accepting that.

Ohid was her Warder, a lean Andoran, though a bit on the short side. He was a strong man, and well experienced in battle. Of course, to protect Micora, he'd have to be, seeing as she often didn't think before speaking or doing. His specialty was archery; he could hit a moving target from far off without even thinking. The man also carried a short sword at his side, as the bow wasn't much use when fighting in close range. The short sword was less used, as Ohid wasn't nearly as proficient with it as with his bow and arrows.

Ohid would have done anything for his Aes Sedai, and Micora knew it. Their relationship wasn't intimate though, another quality that separated Micora from the Greens. In fact, Ohid would flirt madly with any beautiful woman who looked at him twice in a bar. His flirtatious quality didn't make him any less loyal, however, and he'd always come right away when Micora called.

Micora didn't flirt. She was pretty enough that most men would make eyes at her, but she was interested in any news or information they had, and nothing more. She was Aes Sedai, and Aes Sedai didn't marry. She was friendly though, and made close friends and acquaintances wherever she went. There was always someone she could call on in the well-known cities and towns, and even in some of the less significantly known places.

No one really knew why Micora and Ohid were in Elmora, a city in Tarabon, slightly southeast of Tanchico. The Aes Sedai and her Warder themselves didn't know for sure. Ohid believed it was just another of Micora's spur-of-the-moment journeys, but Micora wasn't so sure. She felt as if she had been led there, pulled by something. As if something big and important was going to happen and she needed to be there for it. But what could it be? And when would it happen? Her question was quickly answered on a night spent outside of the city.

"Urgh…" Taerin groaned, slowly blinking her eyes as she finally came awake. At first she wasn't sure if she was really awake or not; she couldn't see anything in the dark of night. She groped around her, and found, to her surprise, that her dagger was lying nearby and her clothes were significantly cleaner than they had been before. Where was she? What had happened to her?

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she began to observe her surroundings. She was in a tent of some sort, wide and spacious, with two bedrolls laid out, and a third that she herself was in. Her bag lay at the foot of her roll, neatly packed. So she wasn't a prisoner after all.

Outside of the tent she heard a soft sound: the faint crackling of a campfire. Taerin pushed herself to her feet exhaustedly and stumbled outside after pulling her clean, laced boots on.

As the presence of the other bedrolls suggested, the former maiden was not alone in the camp. A woman in a silky brown riding dress sat regally on a blanket near the fire. This instantly struck Taerin as odd. Why would a noblewoman like her be out in the woods at this time of night? Peering closer at her, Taerin realized that she could not put an age to the woman's face. Very peculiar indeed. A rustling in the leaves announced the presence of a man, lean, muscular, and very short compared to the Aiel. The man, clearly a warrior, carried a rabbit, transfixed by an arrow. Neither acknowledged her presence.

"Dinner," the man declared, sitting down and abruptly starting to skin the beast. It was a good-sized creature, and would easily feed three people with leftovers for later.

The woman nodded. "Delicious. That will do quite nicely for tonight. Thank you, Ohid."

"Who are you?" Taerin asked, still standing at the entrance to the tent. "Where am I? What do you want with me?" She fingered her dagger nervously, prepared to fight if she had to.

The man called Ohid merely glanced at her. The woman's eyes searched her up and down, seeming to read the girl. "Oh, look, Ohid. The maiden has awoken at last." She said this as a simple fact. Nothing in her tone showed surprise, happiness, or any recognizable emotion. Who was this strange woman?

"Sit down, girl, and talk to me. Tell me your name," she suggested. "It's alright. Ohid and I won't hurt you. I wouldn't even be able to hurt you unless you tried to kill me." She laughed brightly, as if she knew this wouldn't happen.

Taerin cautiously sat down on the dampened ground as Ohid approached the fire and started to roast the rabbit. She examined the area carefully, making sure there were escape routes available.

"Come, girl, we don't have all night," the woman laughed, her chuckle sounding like a bell. "What brings you so far from the Waste?" Her eyes searched her, as if there was a bit else she wanted to ask, but was holding back until a better time.

"I'm not Aiel."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere," Ohid remarked. Taerin couldn't tell if the man was talking about her or the rabbit he was cooking.

"Not Aiel? Come now, I can see it in your skin and body. You've clearly been raised in the Waste."

Taerin shuddered. "I… left," she said tensely.

"Left?" The woman glanced at the man. "I've never heard of such a thing; an Aiel leaving her people? Why would you do that, dear?"

The girl trembled softly. She didn't know if it was from the cold or from the sea of memories that suddenly flooded through her head, wearing away the walls that she was so desperately trying to build. "I'm Taerin," she said.

The searching-eyed woman gazed at her, her stare warning Taerin that she would bring the subject up again later. The change of topic would only save her until another time.

"I'm Micora. My friend with the rabbit goes by Ohid," she informed the youngster, gesturing towards the cooking warrior. "We found you in the forest a few days ago. We couldn't bear to just leave you there."

"A few days ago? How… how long was I asleep?" She couldn't remember dreaming at all. It couldn't possibly have been more than a few hours.

"Two and a half days, to be exact. Tomorrow morning it will have been three." That long?

"Who are you? A regular wetland noblewoman like you wouldn't just wander the forests. What were you doing?" Taerin didn't understand. Normal wetland women were soft. They didn't leave their dwellings unless they had to, or so she had been told. The Sea Folk had been an exception, but how could any culture that delighted so much in the water be normal?

"Well, I'm not exactly a noblewoman. I'm Mi—"

"Dinner," Ohid announced, interrupting all conversation. Taerin stared hungrily as the man loaded heavy portions onto small plates. He gave her the largest serving. She hadn't eaten in two and a half days, after all.

She gorged down the rabbit meat so quickly she nearly made herself sick, ignoring any and all questions from either of her rescuers. Finally the wetland woman, Micora, took the plate out from under her. "That's quite enough for now, Taerin. You'll make yourself ill, and you need to be in top shape to travel with us."

Taerin looked at Micora in surprise. "You rescued me and nursed me back to health, and I do appreciate that. But what do you really want with me? I doubt you were just offering a friendly hand to a helpless woman. You're a wetlander. There's more to your words than you say. Why would you assume that I'm traveling with you?"

Micora replied, again sounding like she was simply stating facts. "Because you don't have a choice, dear. You're still very weak. You wouldn't make it very far on your own."

Taerin shrugged. "I suppose you are right, and again I thank you for your help. But you should be aware that after I am back to health, I will be leaving you." She turned and headed back into the tent, drowsiness returning to her.

Ohid leaned close to his Aes Sedai. "You might have some trouble with this one, Micora Sedai. When will you tell her? She isn't aware of what you are yet, but you know Aiel. How do you intend to hold on to her when she finds out?"

"It's time we started stumbling across more channelers as powerful as she, with Tarmon Gaidon approaching. In good time, Ohid, she will find out about us and what we plan to do with her. She will find out, and she may run, but I assure you the Tower will have her."