A/N- Not many reviews, but I didn't expect this to become popular. Mainly, I'm writing this for myself.

I just had this rather nasty flame….

Shezza...YOU'RE A FREAKEN WANKER!
(Only when I'm lonely...)
For gods sake! Write a story and complete it properly before writing more!
(Um…if I could, don't you think I would have done it by now?)
You have many good stories that are really well written. Yet so many of them are abandoned.
(Point to him)
You have like a whole month of holidays left. Use them and finish your other stories properly before writing anymore, your retard
(Congratulations, you can count. I don't think you can write though…so don't presume you can dictate how I write. Read Above…this is mainly for me, not you!)

Tam smiled in relief as he led the carriage over the hill, where he could see the familiar thatched roofs of the town of Two Rivers. He glanced behind him, into the cart his horse was pulling and he sighed sadly at the sight of Rand staring at the sky with a blank expression on his face. He still remembered how he approached Tar Valon.

Flashback

It had been a month since Rand had been taken, and Tam had never been more than four days behind the Aes Sedai kidnapper. He didn't know why Rand had been taken, though suspicions gnawed his bones, all he knew was that he was going to get his son back.

He eventually reached Tar Valon just hours after the Aes Sedai did, and learnt that Rand had been tried and convicted of Channelling and had been gentled. His heart had sunk with despair and he wanted nothing more than to go and find his child.

Unfortunately, the tower had been reluctant to release Rand. Tam had been turned back numerous times at the massive gates, and at one point had drawn swords with the Tower guards, only to be wrapped up in air and told to calm down. The Red Ajah seemed to want to keep all gentled men inside Tar Valon walls, even children.

Finally, he had met with another Aes Sedai named Alanna and he had been permitted to take his son back. Alanna had been a Green Ajah, and had been very sympathetic to Rand.

(In the White Tower, there are three ranks of Aes Sedia. You become a Novice, then Accepted, then Aes Sedai. Once you become an Aes Sedai, you may choose an Ajah, or group, to join. These are designated by colours; Blue, Red, Yellow, Green, Brown, Grey and White. Blue Aes Sedai seek out heroes and quests, Red Aes Sedai seek out male channelers to gentle, Yellow Aes Sedai are healers, Green Aes Sedai are warriors, ready for battle, Brown Aes Sedai seek knowledge, Grey Aes Sedai are negotiators and white Aes Sedai seek answers to philosophy and logic)

Flashback Over

Tam had been warned about the effects of gentling and had noticed that Rand had fallen into despair. His eyes that had once been bright with a child's curiosity were dull and his movements were lethargic and slow. The only way to snap Rand out of it temporarily was to engage him in something exciting. Tam spent many a night instructing Rand in the use of a blade and telling stories of his adventures in other nations. It seemed to perk Rand up a bit, but in the day when Tam was leading the cart towards home, Rand would fall back into his despair. He only hoped that being back home would cure him.

As he approached Two Rivers, he nodded politely to called greetings from the various folk in the farms. He couldn't do anything to reverse the gentling but the least he could do was make sure that Rand spent the rest of his days happy.

Several Years later

Rand had grown tall in the past few years, dwarfing any other child his age. At thirteen, he was tall with thick shoulders and reddish-brown hair, with dull grey eyes and a sword scabbard on his belt with a battered and thin blade. Rand had gotten it as a gift from Tam when the merchants had come into Two Rivers on their annual visit at the Bel Tine festival. He was the only person in Two Rivers to wear a sword, and Mistress al'Vere, who sat on the Woman's Council, would clamp her lips down every time she saw it.

"Hey Rand." Mat Cauthon greeted Rand, a mischievous smile on his face. Mat was shorter than Rand with brown eyes and always up to no good. No matter how depressed Rand ever felt, Mat would always manage to do something to make him feel better, whether stealing apples or getting switched...the latter happening more often than not. "Ready for Bel Tine?"

Rand gave a ghost of a grin, the biggest smile anybody could ever coax out of him. Some of the villagers had been wary of him when it had been discovered that he had once channelled, and that he had been gentled, but stern words from the Woman's Council (Which practically ran the town, despite the protests of the men from the Village Council) had stopped them from doing anything rash. Nowadays, there were few who would willingly converse with him, and Mat was one of them.

"I heard that they have fireworks this year…. straight from the Illuminators. I would love to know what's in them!" Mat sighed wistfully.

"I heard that Illuminators will doing anything to stop the secret getting out." Rand answered quietly. "The fireworks explode in the air if they're cut open."

"I know," Mat said with a sigh, before grinning again as a large teenager with thick arms the same age as Mat and Rand approached them.

Perrin Aybara strolled up smiling, his huge hands in his pocket. While not as tall as Rand, Perrin was bulging with muscles, even now as a teenager. As a blacksmiths apprentice, Perrin was calm and quiet and Rand had never seen him get truly angry before.

"I can't wait for the archery contest." Perrin greeted them. He smoothed his rough hair. "I'm sure I can win this year."

"Like last year?" Mat scoffed.

Perrin scowled slightly. "Like you did any better." He muttered. "What about you Rand, what competition are you going in?"

"Sword." Rand said softly. "Tam has decided that I'm ready for an exhibition match."

"Ah, good!" Mat exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "I've been wanting to see you use that rusty thing for a while!"

"MATRIM CATHON!"

"What did you do?" Perrin asked resignedly as Mat cringed under the power of the voice. A seventeen year old with dark flashing eyes and a pretty face stormed up, her long braided hair flapping. When a girl in the Two River reaches seventeen, they braid their hair a sign of womanhood. Nynaeve al'Maera had only recently gotten hers braided and Rand personally though that she was too eager to prove herself. That, and that Nynaeve was the Wisdom's apprentice. All towns in the area had a Wisdom, a woman skilled in herbs and matters of healing. Some could listen to the wind and predict weather.

"Where's Mistress al'Vere's freshly baked pie?" She demanded, tugging on her braid as if she was tugging on Mat's neck.

"I don't know!" Mat said, holding his hands out defensively, backing away from the irate teenager.

Nynaeve scowled. "You better tell me the truth, or I will give you a spanking!"

Mat's face paled as he backed away further. "I haven't touched any blasted pie!"

"Language Matrim." Came a cool voice and Rand, Mat and Perrin turned around to see a dark haired girl with her arms folded, her expression severe.

"Egwene." Rand greeted, bobbing his head. Egwene stared at him for a few minutes with those beautiful dark eyes and Rand sought the void, feeding his emotions to the imaginary flame and drawing his mind into a state of calmness. Egwene was a beautiful girl the same age as he was and seemed to be fixated on him. While most people avoided him, save for Mat and Perrin (His two closest friends), Nynaeve (While pitying him, if he broke any rules he was sure to get a spanking regardless if he was the Light incarnate), Egwene sought him out. Rand had a suspicion that Tam and Mistress al'Vere had been discussing betrothal plans for the two of them.

Egwene moved her eyes from his and turned to Mat. "Where is it?" She scowled.

"I didn't take it! Light, one thing goes missing and everybody accuses me!" Mat protested.

Nynaeve and Egwene sniffed at the same time and whirled around, their backs straight, proud and the perfect picture of indignation as they walked away.

Rand watched from the sidelines as Tam whirled his practise sword, slicing a welt in a competitors arm and making the man yelp and drop his wooden blade. Tam bowed his head at his opponent, who grumbled good-naturedly.

"Don't know why I bother." The grizzled man said, rubbing his arm.

Master al'Vere, a well-built man with a moustache stood forward. "Are there any of you who wish to challenge Tam al'Thor?"

The men in the crowd gave rueful grins, some of them nursing red welts from the lightning strikes of Tam.

"Go on!" Mat urged, nudging Rand in the stomach with his elbow and Rand stepped forward, his face expressionless.

"I, Rand al'Thor, challenge Tam al'Thor with the swords." Rand said clearly and concisely, his usual bored and vague feelings giving way to anticipation and excitement.

Tam nodded as Rand came into the circle that had been designated the duelling area. He looked at his practise sword and threw it down to the ground.

The villagers were dead silent as Tam walked over to a bundled cloak and withdrew his blade. It was a simple blade, with a bronze heron branded on the long hilt. The blade, very slightly curved and sharp on only one end, bore another heron etched into the steel. Short quillons, worked to look like a braid, flanked the hilt. It seemed fragile to the heavy broadswords that merchant guards carried around the Two Rivers, but Rand knew that that blade would never dull of break, and was as sharp today as it had been twenty years. He withdrew his own blade, a battered but workable dull longsword and stepped forward.

Tam bowed his head, before sliding his blade back in his sheath on his waist. For a moment Rand was confused, but Tam beckoned him with a small smile on his face and Rand jumped forward, his mind seeking the void. Calm descended on him, with everything else a faint echo, as he raised his blade, preparing to nick Tam, before he had to parry wildly as Tam lifted his blade still sheathed and swung his sword back, hurling the scabbard at him. Rand deflected the black leather as Tam moved forward, blade slicing through the air. There was a clang as the two blades connected, and then Tam and Rand danced. Tam was testing him, pushing only hard enough to see what he could do, then pushing a little harder, then just a little harder still. It was quick wrists and quick feet that kept Rand from being struck. The two fighters moved through the forms like water flowing in a stream, The Swallow Takes Flight met Parting the Silk. Moon on the Water met The Wood Grouse Dances. Ribbon in the Air met Stones Falling From the Cliff. They moved about the room as in a dance, and their music was steel against steel. For the villagers, this may have seemed like idiocy, a grown man fighting his thirteen year old son with blades of steel, but for Rand and Tam it was the test of a Blademaster against his apprentice. In Tam's eyes, if Rand were to win, he would be a Blademaster. True, officially Rand would need to perform a duel in front of a strict council to be legitimately recognized but if Rand were to defeat Tam, he would win the heron marked blade, the sign of a blademaster. He would have the skills to back up his sword.

Rand could faintly feel his muscles tiring, could feel small scratches on his arms and one on his back, could feel the heat beating down on him, but these were outside the void. Inside, there was Rand and the sword, flowing through the motions automatically. For seven years he had been training to achieve the rank of Blademaster after hearing the tales of his father as a soldier. Now, he was close to achieving it. As Hawk Soars Yonder met River undercuts Stone, Rand shifted sideways and automatically shifted his stance, his sword up and held by two hands above his head, leaving his ribs exposed. Tam quickly darted forward, blade whizzing as Rand thrust downwards as he felt cold steel touch his side.

For a moment, the two stood still, breathing heavily and staring into one another's eyes. Rand had his sword poised directly above Tam's heart, while Tam had the edge of his sword placed against his son's ribs.

"A draw…" Tam said softly.

Rand said nothing as he withdrew his blade and sheathed it, bowing his head to Tam who acknowledged it. Then thunderous applause came from around them and Mat hollered and cheered. Rand felt a blush come to his face and he stared at the ground as Master al'Vere slowly made his way over to the circle.

"Well, it's a draw then?" He asked, staring at Tam and Rand with reluctant admiration.

"No." Tam said loudly. "The chances of Rand surviving were low, but the chances of me surviving were zero. Rand is the winner."

Master al'Vere looked shocked for a minute, before shrugging it off and marking something down on a small leather-bound book. Tam turned back to Rand and unclipped his scabbard from his belt.

"Here you go son." Tam said, his eyes shining with pride. "You defeated a Blademaster, the blade is yours."

Rand reached for it slowly and took it from Tam's hands. "Thankyou Father." He whispered.

Tam smiled proudly. "You'll do something for the world Rand, I can feel it. Come, the archery contest is next."

Tam won the archery contest easily, not even Rand could aim as well as his father. As the sun went down and the merchants and peddlers let off their fireworks, Rand sighed. He had finally done it; he had defeated his father in a duel. But now what? Not for the first time, Rand felt an emptiness inside of him that once, not one day ago, had been filled with the desire to become a Blademaster. He knew what he needed to do…. he needed to find something else to pursue, something he was sure that the Two Rivers couldn't provide.

When he approached Tam with this the next day, the man had been very understanding and patient.

"I had expected something like this," Tam admitted slowly. "So I approached a peddler by the name of Patrak. He's the one who sells rugs and furs. He was very impressed by your abilities and when I mentioned that you might be leaving the Two Rivers, he begged for your services as a guard. Seems he's run into bandit trouble on the way here and he's escort got stuck in Whitebridge with an arrow wound. He's willing to pay forty silver's for an escort to Whitebridge, where he'll meet his guard."

Rand nodded slowly. "I better get packed." He said softly. He approached Tam and gave him a long hug.

The next day, just before dawn, a stream of merchant wagons and peddler vans left Two Rivers. In a wooden and battered van, a middle-aged man sat with a young boy, who looked back at his home before turning his eyes forward to the open road.

Note 1: For those who do read this, don't think so incredulously that Rand is a Blademaster. In Book 2, Lan said that with 5 years he could have Rand a Blademaster, Tam has had Rand for seven years and spent every single day practising and teaching.