"Get out of here, you filthy Aiel!"

Rand hastily backed away, his hands up as a one-eyed farmer with a pitchfork growled at him.

"You took my eye, yes you did!" The farmer snarled, with hate and insanity etched on every feature of his face. "I'll take your life!" He attempted to impale Rand on the pitchfork, but missed terribly, staggering as he shook his head. Whether it be his old age or the ale he had just guzzled down, Rand did not know and did not stay and find out.

He jumped on his horse, kicking in his heels. The horse snorted as it galloped away from the small village near the Spine of the World. It was probably one of the only villages that had been left standing after the Aiel War. The horse continued it's galloping until it reached a cart, with another horse sitting next to it. Rand needed horses that could survive in the desert. He had paid the majority of his money for these ones. They were designed to go days without water or food.

"Off you go," Rand, told the horse, which snorted and flicked it's tail. He had several barrels of water, a barrel of dried and smoked meat, several blankets (Night in the Waste was freezing), a thick blanket that covered his cart and bedding. He had also bought a short bow and a three quiver of arrows, just to be on the safe side, as well as his sword, with grain for the horses. It was time to go.

The mountain range known as the Spine of the World was created during the Breaking of the World. Nobody knew why water did not fall on the eastern side of these mountains; some say that it had once been an ocean before all the water had evaporated into nothingness, while others say that the Spine of the World blocked the winds that would bring the rain clouds. The Waste was home of the Aiel, a mysterious race of fighters and barbarians. Nobody knew much about the Aiel, save that fifteen years ago they had crossed the Spine and ravaged half the world.

The reason for this was because of the King of Cairhien. Long ago, the Aiel gave a gift to the Royal family of Cairhien, a seedling from a very rare tree. This tree grew and prospered, and the Cairhienan's were given privileges that no other nation. While visitors to the Aiel Waste were usually captured by the Aiel, stripped naked and sent back with only a water bottle, the Cairhien merchants were able to cross the waste to the lands beyond it.

Then fifteen years, the King of Cairhien had chopped down the gift of the Aiel for timber to be used on his throne. The Aiel had taken great offence and had attacked Cairhien, Tear, Tar Valon and anybody they saw. They had only stopped once the King was dead and had retreated back, leaving half-destroyed nations still stunned at the ferocity of the attack.

Days Later

Rand sat on his cart, the camels standing patiently. He had crossed the mountains without meeting any Aiel warriors, and now the path ended and only a burning desert remained. He glanced down at the map in his hands, an ancient and torn piece of parchment. Several leagues away lay a valley called Rhuidean. That was where he had to go. He urged the camels on.

Aviendha, of the Bitter Water sept of the Taardad Aiel, crouched in the heat of the sun as she dug into the sand. A barely noticeable weed growing from between two rocks was the only clue that water, maybe no more than a puddle, was below. One had to be an Aiel to know how to find various waters sites throughout the Waste.

"I see you Aviendha," said a grave voice. A redhead Aiel with a suntanned face appeared over the rocks, a short spear in her hand and several strapped to her body. Enaila was shorter than most Aiel and extremely touchy about it.

"I see you," Aviendha replied, looking up at into the green eyes.

"Adelin has seen a tree killer." Enaila said.

Aviendha jumped up at that, her hand closing around her spears. "Where?"

"Isan is tracking him. He is a league south." Enaila said.

"There is only one?" Aviendha asked.

Enaila nodded. "We have five sisters with spears, we can fight a Wetlander." Her voice was full of scorn.

Rand's skin had darkened under the blistering sun. It had been five days since he had left the Spine of the World and already, he wished he could turn back. Only determination to find his supposed Uncle and his anger at the Shadowspawn that had attacked him kept him going. He had been through several barrels of his water, before he realised that he needed to ration it off carefully. So far, he had not seen any Aiel.

"Nimbar, Farstrider, halt." Rand commanded. The horses came to an obedient halt next to a rocky crop that would provide shelter from the sun for a little while. As he set up grain for the horses, small scatters of rocks fell down from the hillside. Rand looked up just as someone fell down on him, sending him and the other person to the ground.

Rand winced in pain, seeking the void as he jumped to his feet. His opponent, dressed in strange and loose clothes with a black veil across her face also jumped up, a short spear in her hand. Rand withdrew his sword as she moved forward, jabbing with her spear. With an uppercut blow, the spear was sliced in two and the woman halted as Rand placed the sword at her throat. Fierce green eyes burned at him and red hair blew back as a desert wind soared through the rocky alcove. Suddenly he was struck on the back of the head and pain stabbed through his skull as he staggered forward, his sword slashing the woman's shoulder. He whirled around, one hand clutching his head as four more women, some just girls, approached him, fanning out and circling him, all with spears in their hands.

"Wait!" Rand began, just as they advanced. He ducked a thrown spear, deflecting jabs and whirls with his sword before he grunted as one of them kicked him. His sword became a whirlwind of metal, moving faster than the eye can see as it blocked spears. He knocked one spear out of a woman's hand and sprinted forward, his shoulder up and slamming the woman down on the ground. His belted her over the head with the hilt of his sword, and she crumpled to the ground as the other three moved much more cautiously. The woman who he had slashed, the red-haired one, had not moved from her position, her eyes watching him curiously. The one groaning in pain on the floor also did not attempt to get up.

"Who are you?" Rand asked. He received no answer as they circled him like vultures around a carcass.

"Die Wetlander!" One of the women spat and she moved forward with her spear whirling like a quarterstaff. Rand grunted as she ploughed into him, her spear cutting into his thigh while his blade impaling her shoulder. He pulled his blade free, pushing the wounded woman away from his as the other women jumped forward. One managed to knock his blade from his hands and pinned him up against a rock, her spear touching his throat. Rand gulped, eyeing the spear nervously as his left hand slowly fiddled with his right sleeve.

"Let's just calm down," Rand suggested hopefully, his fingers nitpicking at a loose seam. There was a soft tearing noise and Rand hurled a pile of powder at the woman's face, moving his head just in time as the spear stabbed into the rock. The woman clutched her face, swaying around before she fell.

Rand had not used the poison, but rather the sleeping herb. He could not bring himself to kill a woman, whether because of his upbringing in Two Rivers or his own sense of chivalry. The last woman, a girl his age with reddish-dark hair and blue-green eyes watched him like a hawk as he picked up his sword.

"What sept are you? What clan do you belong to?" She demanded.

"I don't know what you mean," Rand said tiredly, flexing his leg with a wince. The spear had cut deep and blood dripped down, staining the yellow sand.

"You are a Wetlander then?" The girl said, surprise evident in her voice.

"I guess I am if you say I am." Rand answered, his sword still in one hand while he hastily tied a rag around his wound, putting pinches of herbs on the cloth as he did so.

The girl said nothing, glancing at her comrades. All save the sleeping one stood behind her, unarmed. Their spears lay on the ground and they watched him curiously as the girl with the spear circled him.

"I am Aviendha." The girl said abruptly. "Of the Bitter Water sept of the Taardad Aiel."

"I am Rand al'Thor, of Two Rivers. Defender of the Daughter-Heir of Andor, Blademaster." Rand shot back.

"You are not of the clans, are you? This is no deception," Aviendha spoke.

Rand shook his head. "I was told to seek an enemy out in a place called Rhuidean. I…"
"The penalty of Wetlanders trespassing in Rhuidean is death." Aviendha cut in sharply.

Rand was silent, considering what she had said. "If I do not go, he will send Shadowspawn after me. He has already. He claimed to be my uncle and called himself Slayer. He said he would see me in Rhuidean."

Aviendha's face was blank, carved from stone as she glanced back at the women behind her. "This is Isan, Adelin and Enaila. I am Aviendha. The one at your feat is Maira." The girl said abruptly and put up her spear, raising her veil to reveal a pretty face. "You will come with us."

Rand hesitated, his eyes flicking to her spear. "I…"

"You will come to us, or we will strip you naked and send you back to the Wetlands with naught but a waterskin." Aviendha broke in.

"I will come with you, but of my own free will." Rand said, sheathing his sword. He grimaced as he let go of the void, pain finally being recognised and his leg almost collapsed beneath him. "Let me get my cart and horses."

"You will not need them." Aviendha said, while Isan, a yellow haired woman and Adelin, a girl with dark hair, picked up Maira, a copper haired woman.

"I think I will." Rand said firmly as he limped over to the horses, slapping their rumps. He struggled to put the barrel of grain in the cart, his leg throbbing, before Enaila hoisted it up without any effort.

"Thankyou." Rand told her honestly, but the girl just lowered her eyes meekly

"She is gai'shain. It is expected of her." Aviendha said sharply.

"Gashen?" Rand tried to pronounce the word.

Aviendha stared at him, her eyes assessing him. "No, it is true. You do not know." She murmured to herself.

"Aviendha?" Rand asked.

She shook herself from those thoughts. "Follow us with your…beasts." She said, eyeing the horses with disgust. "We will take you to the Clan Leaders."

"You can ride in the cart, there should be enough room for all of you." Rand offered.

Aviendha seemed insulted at the notion. "I will not." She declared firmly. "The others will do as your order."

"Well, at least put Maira and Enaila in. They are wounded." Rand protested, but was surprised when the redhead took the limp body of Maira and placed her in the cart, before jumping up and squatting silently.

"Follow." Aviendha commanded curtly.

Rand dfollowed the jogging girls for half an hour. The sun beat down on him and he put on a straw hat to shield his face, occasionally taking sips from his water bottle. He offered one to Enaila who just stared at him stonily, not uttering a word. Aiel were strange folk, Rand mused, as Aviendha rounded a bend. He tugged the reigns, and the horses followed her briskly. Around the bend came the view of tents and campfires, hundreds of them. Rand followed Aviendha in, aware of the eyes that watched him and the spears that were picked up.

"I see you Aviendha!" Somebody shouted, a white-haired woman with a scar marring her face. "Who do you bring?"

"A Wetlander with the face of a brother, Sulin." Aviendha said, casting a glance back at him.

The woman, Sulin, assessed him and her eyes went wide. "Shaiel!" She breathed, before composing herself. "You have the face of your mother, Wetlander."

"You knew my mother?" Rand asked, all attention suddenly on the woman.

"Yes, Shaiel was a friend." Sulin said.

Rand stiffened. "My mothers name was Kari, not Shaiel." He told Sulin curtly. "You must have the wrong person."

"You have your fathers anger." Sulin murmured. "Good, good."

"You know Tam al'Thor?" Rand asked her, astonished.

Sulin blinked. "I have not heard of that man." She spoke carefully. "I speak of Janduin, your father."

Rands face was like stone. "You have the wrong man," he said coldly. "My father is Tam al'Thor. I am his son, his son!"

Sulin took his rant in calmly. "No you are not," she said casually.

As Rand opened his mouth, a cool voice interrupted. "Sulin?"

Sulin turned as a woman with hair whiter than hers approached, dressed in grey robes and a necklace. Her eyes were sharp and she had the air of somebody who was used to being obeyed. As soon as her eyes fell on Rand, she motioned quickly with her hand.

"Bring him to my tent." She ordered.

Rand was about to protest when Aviendha grabbed his arm, not to gently. "Hey!" He snapped angrily. Her grip was like iron as she dragged him through the camp. Rand resisted the urge to strike at her or to draw his sword as she opened a flap in a large white tent and pushed him through.

Inside was surprisingly bare, with cushions on the ground and a small table with an ancient teapot. A rug of fur lay on the ground and Rand observed a young woman with red hair and green eyes glance at him sharply.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"Who are you?" Rand shot back, fed up with the treatment he had been receiving.

The woman pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes when the woman in grey robes walked into the tent, closing the flap.

"I am Amys." She said. "Melanie is her name."

"Rand al'Thor." Rand said curtly, but avoided her eyes like he was a child being caught stealing an apple. There was something about her that made him feeling very young and very stupid.

"So, the son of Janduin and Shaiel has returned to us." Amys mused. "Do not deny it boy! There are many their faces, and they can see them in you!"

Rand just sat there, angry beyond all belief…and scared. Tam would have told him if this were true…wouldn't he?

"Would you like to know about them?" Amys said gently, perhaps sensing his mood. She gestured for Rand to sit and he complied.

"Your Father was the Iron Mountain Taardad clan chief. His name was Janduin." Amys told him. She smiled. "He left the dream of life fifteen years ago."

Rand bit his tongue as Melanie gave him a sharp look.

"Your mother was Shaiel, of the Maidens of the Spear. She was not born Aiel, but wandered into the Waste. She later told me that an Aes Sedai named Gitara Moroso ordered her here. She was a stubborn woman; we stripped her and sent her back yet she followed the Maidens who had found her. Twice they beat her; three times they made her turn back. Yet she pursued them relentlessly until finally, they spoke to her. She was quick to join the Maidens, good with the spear."

"Was?" Rand said, despite himself.

Amys smiled, a touch sadly at him. "Shaiel was involved in the war with the oath breaker, the Wetlander king. She met your father during this war, and they conceived you. Later, your mother concealed her pregnancy. In the Maidens of the Spear, a woman is married to the spear and nothing else. If they wish for a man, they must put down the spear. If they have a child, it is taken away and given to another, far from where the maiden lives. Your mother did not want to give up the spear, and did not want to be sent back to the Clan, as she would have been if she had been discovered with a child. In the last days of the war, she fell to the Wetlanders near the lone peak called Dragonmount. She gave birth to a child, and we found her body. The child was not with it."

"You think I'm that child." Rand whispered, licking his lips. "But Tam…"

"This man raised you, clothed you, fed you and loved you." Amys said sharply. "He is your father in all but blood. Your blood father was Janduin, not this Tam."

"How…how did he die? Janduin, I mean. I know you're wrong, but…" Rand trailed off as Amys folded her hands together.

"He was in the land of the shadows, the Blight of the North. He was approached by a man with looks of Shaiel and would not raise a spear against him." Amys said. "This was months later, when you had been thought dead. Janduin…Janduin loved Shaiel. Without her, life was meaningless."

Rand sat still, his eyes staring into nothingness as Amys and Melanie left the tent. This was impossible! He wasn't an Aiel! His father was Tam al'Thor and his mother was Kari al'Thor! Not Janduin and Shaiel! It was impossible! Wasn't it…? With a dry cough, Rand thought back to all the times where somebody had told him that he looked like an Aiel…Gawyn, Guards, The farmer, Elaida, even Elayne! It was true…