6

Chloris's first emotion was shock. She stood knocking her chair backwards abruptly. Chloris's second emotion was blind anger. This was her father's race, the one that had outlawed her, that had alienated her. She lunged with a growl at him, but he dodged and she landed on the bed, knocking the wind out of herself.

She got up with a hiss and charged at him again.

With one glare from him she was flung back into a corner.

She sat, partially stunned and gasping for breath, her vision doubling and fading. Her head hurt terribly, and she knew she was still weak from the taxing flight along the river. She didn't even have enough strength to call upon her power.

Gods, is this the Chloris that Rand trusted, the unbeatable warrior, the unshakable? Twice in one week she had been rendered helpless and she was sick of it. With the last of her strength she stood, bracing herself against the wall. She tried to reach her dagger but her arms felt extremely heavy.

Damn, this is happening a lot lately, she thought as she slid down the wall and into darkness.

Chloris visited the lake again.

This time she didn't venture any closer, she had no desire to see those blank eyes or smell metallic blood for a second time.

But blood was in her dreams anyway.

Chloris loved to visit the river when she was lonely. It had been so ever since she was young and had figured out that she was different than the other children. She was angry and she found that the best way to chill her anger was to stare at the soothing ripples of the water.

She had left her mother cowering against the wall in their small cottage, but it was not her mother's refuse to look her in the eye that bothered her, she had lived like that all of her life, but she had no idea why. Over and over again she told herself that they were just jealous.

But jealous of what?

She knew she was different, but was it a good thing?

Chloris was beginning to realize that perhaps they were not jealous, but afraid.

Part of Chloris was scornful, if they are scared, it is no fault of mine. Another part of Chloris insisted otherwise. She gazed at herself in the pool. Freak, they called her.

The ripples made her reflection indistinct but her gaze was as unnerving as ever. She averted her eyes. Maybe she was a freak. That would only explain the way the old crones glared at her and made signs against evil behind her back; why the village children always ran or jeered from afar, why even her own mother didn't love her…

Hot anger, like fire coursed through her veins. Let them be afraid, they had a reason to be. Let them see the freak now! She straitened and glared defiantly into the water; let them see her for what she was. She would show them. With the anger fresh in her blood, she started back towards the village.

Someone was screaming.

Fire. Burning. Blood.

Chloris cast about in shock, who would do such a thing?

Fire. Burning. Blood.

From all about things bombarded Chloris's senses. Smells of charred flesh, screaming filled her ears, and flames filled her sight. Things were indistinct, blurred images, like she was viewing things from underwater.

Chloris sank to her knees, then to fell face first in the dirt. The world was spinning around her, people were running about her, but somehow she knew that they would not escape the flames.

Chloris awoke sweating.

Then fell back on a bed, into twisted sheets.

A bed? She was running- how would she get to a bed?

Chloris sat up as quickly as she could, regretting it immediately as a livid headache seized her. With double vision she peered short-sightedly about the room.

Her surroundings seemed vaguely familiar; perhaps it was the smell, or the feeling of the bed, the vibrations in the air. With a lurch her vision blurred and she was doubling over, clutching her stomach. It was only by force of will that she didn't vomit all over the sheets. With a groan she lay back down trying not to concentrate on anything to hard for fear of infuriating her headache.

Her vision doubled as she stared at the ceiling, occasionally black spots speckled the view, and presently she fell back asleep.

Chloris struggled into wakefulness a second time. She had heard familiar voices, voices that brought memories, but she didn't know of what. But it was a losing battle. There was a cool cloth on her head and overwhelming exhaustion.

The sun licked the branches of the trees. Merrick allowed himself a small smile. The warm weather was a welcome surprise after the dismalness of the rain. The forest smelled fresh and was alive.

Absently he sent his mind forth in every direction. The quiet intelligence of animals flew up to meet him. Compared to the subtleties of the human mind, listening to the simple thoughts of animals was always refreshing.

Yet, on the edge of the quiet music lay a buzzing of intellect. Even from far away he could sense that there were a great number of people ahead. Based on his knowledge, this would be one of Leighton's smaller, walled towns. Calmly he assembled walls about his conscience. The buzzing of hundreds of human minds would get annoying after a while.

Tonight would be the last night for a while when he could listen freely to the animals and camp under the stars. His prey, he knew, was very close, and the weather was now changing.