In the Land of the Madmen

by Bob G. Leeman

the sequel to He Sleeps Under the Hill, featuring the continuing adventures of N'aethan, Ellyth and their companions after they are stranded... in the Land of the Madmen! Chapter 12 : Prisoners of Larcheen, in which; the Lightborn, Gen and Roth Blucha, Gleeman, reach the Midnight City / The Breaker is revealed to the captive Aes Sedai / Flashback: 'The Death of Lord Ingtar.' R&R

8. 0 : Interlogue

Gleeman Bob writes: the foolish Gleeman humbly apologises for not posting anything new in the last two months, but having got to the middle of ItLotM, he decided to take a break. instead of writing, he has been driving his jo-car aimlessly around the countryside, assembling flat-pack furniture, returning video tapes, exploring the interiors of magic wardrobes and unsuccessfully attempting to decipher the final code of the Zodiac!

of course, mid-way through the book can mean only one thing - yes, I am afraid that it is Interlogue time! this spurious word still does not appear in the Oxford English dictionary, but if I keep using it, maybe one day it will! and I promise that the following tale (or two tales) is a lot more relevant to the main narrative than usual. not that that is saying much... but I was compelled to relate the final chapter in the long story of Kiam Lopiang, Aes Sedai.

on a side note, is it me, or is the Wheel of Time fanfiction page a bit quiet these days? only two other Gleepersons have posted anything in the intervening period... it certainly used to be a busier creative forum, currently it reminds me of a once-popular nightclub that now contains more actual staff than patrons. which I suppose makes me the annoying drunk guy in the corner, dancing by himself! I just thought that with the prospect of a WoT TV show in production, there might be a bit more interest in all things Wheelsome... and assuming it happens, I hope it won't be as bad as that Shannara abomination! that was AWFUL! but wouldn't Steve Buscemi make a perfect Padan Fain?!

and lastly, a big thank you to those who are now following In the Land of the Madmen... if you keep reading, I shall keep writing.

Walk in the Light!

---

In the Land of the Madmen – Interlogue

Two Quests and One Death

The Southern Blight - 331AB

"Do not touch that, Mistress. It is dangerous."

Kiam Lopiang, Aes Sedai of the White Ajah (which she had personally founded) did not glance at her Warder on hearing his warning, did not take her dark, tilted eyes off the strange creature that clung to the spongy bough of the warped tree. It had long, multi-jointed legs, six in number, which were attached at paired intervals to its thick, twig-like body. There did not appear to be an actual head, but two twitching antennae extended from what she assumed was its front end. Kiam slowly withdrew her hand from the creature's vicinity. She had not been intending to touch it, whatever Raolin Gaidin assumed, had merely been attempting to provoke some sort of reaction. When it came, said reaction took her entirely by surprise – without warning, the stick-like creature sprang at her face.

With the speed of a striking cobra, a gloved hand shot into Kiam's field of vision, catching the attacking creature in mid-air and crushing the life from it with a nauseating squelching sound. Raolin dropped the twisted remains to the damp ground, glanced at his leather gauntlet, stained with sticky green slime, and unconcernedly wiped the substance off on his fancloth cloak.

"It is called a 'stick,' Mistress," Raolin muttered in explanation, "when it bites, it injects a venom that turns the blood to jelly. Sometimes, an immediate amputation can save your life… more often, not." His voice was as toneless as ever, deep and resonant.

Kiam inclined her head. "My thanks, Gaidin. Truly, you are a mine of information."

Raolin merely nodded in response. He was a tall man, handsome in a stern sort of way, with a grave disposition that made him seem older than his twenty-one years. He had been Kiam's Warder for three of those years, and though she had been Aes Sedai since long before his grandfather's grandfather was born, she often felt that there was little perceived disparity in their ages, that the young Gaidin somehow almost equalled her in experience. He had an old soul, as the adage went, and had seemed familiar to her at their first meeting, which was part of the reason why she had Bonded him... that combined with his impressive martial skills. The first Warder she had chosen in more than a hundred years, and certainly the last Warder she would have in this lifetime, that much was certain. But the familiarity… perhaps she had known Raolin in a former incarnation, an old comrade from the War, even?

Kiam shook her head slightly, mentally chiding herself. Such idle fancies often preyed upon her imagination of late, it was symptomatic of her great age, she supposed. And this was hardly the place to lose oneself in idle speculation. This was, after all, the Great Blight.

Raolin Gaidin turned, moving away from his Aes Sedai with customary deadly assurance, checking the vicinity for further dangers. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw and strike in an instant. The long, curved blade was marked with a Heron. Raolin was young to bear a Blademaster's weapon, but if the stories were even half-true, he had done more than enough to earn it. His straight, jet-black hair hung most of the way down his broad back, bound with a sliver filigreed clip, marking him out as a man of Aren Mador, the Lake City. Kiam recalled when it had a different name, when it had been Aren Deshar in the Age of Legends, as they called the previous era now… but there were few others alive today who remembered anything from that lost time.

Kiam sighed. She was old, ridiculously old, she had never imagined that she would live this long. And she was weary, so very weary. By rights, she should be back at the White Tower with the other senescent Sisters, teaching the young novices how to be Aes Sedai, passing on the torch to future generations that they might serve humanity in protecting it from the Shadow… and itself. But instead, here she was, she and her companions, travelling through the most dangerous place in the world, going to see the Green Man. One final adventure, and then she could rest.

Satisfied that no further dangerous creatures lurked within the humid, tortured forest that immediately surrounded them, Raolin turned, his dark, implacable gaze passing briefly over Kiam, before snapping back to her. He blinked. She felt a flash of momentary confusion through the Bond.

"What is it, Raolin?" Kiam enquired.

"Forgive me, Mistress, but I am yet unused to seeing you… clad thus."

Kiam smiled. In addition to his Warder's cloak, Raolin wore the standard garb of a Gaidin of the Tower, an olive green coat with matching trews tucked into dark boots. She, on the other hand, was almost entirely clothed in fancloth! It had been some time since she had worn her old camouflaged apparel, but the fancloth gown still fit, she yet retained the slender figure of her youth, even if her hair was a good deal whiter than it had been in the days of the War.

"I wear it for old time's sake, Raolin," Kiam commented levelly, "though you are far from being the first to find it odd. Vora Aes Sedai, whom I stood 'prentice to, always thought my fancloth dresses an affectation, but permitted me them even so."

Kiam sighed again. She must be the last person living who remembered dear old Vora and her formidable personality, for all that she had ensured that her mentor's name would live on forever in her testament to the White Tower at its founding – Vora's sa'angreal. Her old friends Karella Fanway and Mitsora Caal had been dead near a century and Elisane Tishar, the first Amyrlin Seat, had passed away some fifty years ago. The Hall had tried to make Kiam the next Watcher of the Seals, but she had firmly refused that debatable honour. Instead, the new Amyrlin was Mabriam en Shareed, formerly Queen of Aramaelle, Aes Sedai of the Grey Ajah and architect of the Compact of the Ten Nations, a wise choice in Kiam's opinion. Like her predecessor, Mabriam was reputed to be ta'veren.

But of all those who had begun the seven Ajah and laid the foundation stones of the White Tower, only she and Azille Narof were left… though Kiam suspected that the former head of the Red Ajah would prefer it otherwise. Some years previously, Azille's excessive zeal regarding the elimination of male channelers had finally proved her downfall. For the crime of executing innocents without authorisation of Amyrlin or Hall, Azille and several of her more fanatical followers had been severed. Or stilled, as they called it now. The last time Kiam had seen Azille, the diminutive penitent had been wearing dull grey servant's livery whilst being engaged in mucking-out one of the Tower stables. They had not spoken to each other, despite being extremely old enemies, in every sense of the word. What was there left to say?

A rustling in the blighted bushes and Raolin had his sword out in a split-second, taking a swift step to place himself between his Mistress and whatever was approaching. It turned out to be Aldor Gaidin. The large, ruddy-faced Warder was blonde and blue-eyed, as was often the case with those of Coremanda, and Kiam thought that he and his brother, Baltus, rather resembled Da'shain. Though the bared blade in Aldor's left hand arguably dispelled this impression...

Raolin and Aldor nodded to each other and sheathed their swords with single deft movements. Then, the big Warder bowed to Kiam. "Excuse me for disturbing you, Kiam Aes Sedai, but Caraighan wishes to depart soon, by your leave."

Kiam noted two things – firstly; that Aldor was persisting in appending the full 'Aes Sedai' to her name rather than merely 'Sedai,' in spite of her repeatedly having told he and his brother not to… and secondly; that Caraighan obviously did not require her Warders to attach any honorific at all to her name! The younger Sisters - and Caraighan had barely passed her first century - seemed rather lax about the formalities between Aes Sedai and their Gaidin. But then, Caraighan was a Green, and they were notoriously informal with their Warders. To the point of bedding them, in some cases! It would not have been tolerated in her day… the Lightborn had always called her 'Kiam Sedai,' even when he was angry with her.

Kiam turned away from the tainted vegetation that she had been studying with some interest and started back toward their camp-site with the same economy of grace that she had exhibited in her youth, for all that her joints were rather troubling her these days. Raolin fell into step with her, a trusty and extremely dangerous shadow.

"Very well, if the celebrated Caraighan Maconar requires my presence, I shall not presume to delay," Kiam announced.

Aldor blinked, but did not comment, leading the way back to where the horses, his brother and their Aes Sedai waited. Kiam glanced around her as they walked. Only a day's travel beyond the Aramaelle watch-towers and the terrain was unrecognisable. She had not been back to the Blight in a very long time, a half-millennia, almost. It was like something out of a particularly severe nightmare; the twisted, tormented trees and suppurating, rotting vegetation, the warped flora and fauna that could kill the unwary in an instant. And the heat! It was midwinter back in the Westlands but here, an oppressive humidity reigned over the elements.

"Was the Blight always this bad?" Kiam wondered to herself, "or has it actually got worse?"

Neither Warder chose to comment. Protecting Aes Sedai from harm was their reason for living, and in the current locale, their redoubtable skills were being tested to the very limit. Both Gaidin kept their hands on their hilts, while their eyes seemed to watch everywhere at once.

Ahead, the deadly forest gave way to a small clearing. Five horses stood tethered to one side; three stallions, two black and a piebald, all Tower-trained warhorses, as well as a couple of mares. Kiam smiled fondly at the sight of her graceful mount, Snowdrop, long mane plaited with white ribbons. The pale, thoroughbred Essenian racehorse tossed her head and whinnied at Kiam's appearance. The other mare was a dun-coloured animal, unlovely to look upon but capable of a rare turn of speed. Its rider rose from the log that had been serving her as a seat and regarded Kiam coolly as she approached.

Caraighan Maconar was tall, almost able to look her large Warders in the eye, her long, intricately braided hair auburn, her eyes an unusual blue-grey in hue. She would have been accounted more than merely attractive had she chosen to smile with greater frequency; as it was, her full lips were set in a grim line, her flinty gaze, that had given even rioting mobs pause, levelled at Kiam.

"You should not venture into the forest needlessly, Kiam," Caraighan warned, in the clipped, precise accents of Aridhol, "it is perilous."

"Oh, I know," Kiam responded breezily, "in fact, I was attacked by a twig!"

Caraighan raised her reddish eyebrows and her second Warder, Baltus, glanced at his brother questioningly. Aldor merely shrugged. The two were twins, practically identical, though Aldor was left-handed and Baltus right; one could tell them apart from which side of their belts they buckled their swords. They were big, powerful men of the sort who often took to soldiering, though the brother's abilities with blade and lance had surpassed those of their comrades enough to see them sent to Tar Valon to train as Warders.

"Stick, Mistress," Raolin murmured apologetically, "it is called a 'stick.'"

"My thanks, Raolin Gaidin. Stick it is." Kiam shrugged. "Well, they certainly did not have these stick things in my day, when we of the War Ajah guarded the Northborder. They must be some new and foul spawning of the Blight."

Aldor and Baltus were staring at Kiam with something like awe. She knew what they were thinking… to actually stand in the presence of someone who had fought in the War of Power, who had known the Dragon, and later served under Shadar Nor in the northern wars against the Renegades… someone who had personally slain three Tainted Companions, who had lived through the Breaking of the World and been instrumental in founding Tar Valon and the White Tower...

Caraighan, on the other hand, was certainly not gazing upon Kiam with awe, far from it. Though relatively young for an Aes Sedai, Caraighan Maconar had already acquired a somewhat legendary status of her own. She had diffused a dangerous situation in Comaidin, where rioters might have run amok but for her timely intercession. Then, there was that bad business in Mosadorin, when Caraighan had been the only Aes Sedai present during a bloody revolt; it was said that she had dealt with the threat through force of personality alone, without recourse to the One Power. She clearly had great potential, and it was whispered in the Tower that she might one day be Amyrlin Seat. And of course, she was very strong in the Power, more so than most of her contemporaries. Worryingly, each new generation of Aes Sedai seemed a little weaker than the last. This strength added to Caraighan's status, though the new tradition of deference based on capacity for channeling troubled Kiam. It was too much like something that men would institute amongst themselves...

Kiam found the younger, Aridholi Aes Sedai rather irritating, though the lack of veneration she evinced was certainly refreshing. She was not exactly sure why she had allowed Caraighan to accompany her on this final quest, apart from the fact that two additional Gaidin might prove useful. Though none of their party hailed from the borderlands of Jaramide or Aramaelle, the three Warders all had extensive experience of the Blight.

Kiam sought the fabled Green Man, there was a message that she needed Someshta to pass on for her, but she was going there for another reason besides. Caraighan and her Warders, on the other hand, seemed more interested in seeking the Eye of the World, the legendary site that the ancient Nym guarded. Kiam had overheard Aldor and Baltus enthusiastically discussing the possibility.

"We should go," Caraighan stated, not quite an order, but no mere suggestion either.

"But of course," Kiam agreed smoothly, moving toward Snowdrop while Baltus kicked dirt over the small camp-fire and Aldor gathered up the saddlebags. Raolin vaulted effortlessly into the saddle of his piebald warhorse, Killer, the animal snorting fiercely and rolling his eyes towards Caraighan's dun mare, which appeared to be in season. Better the Gaidin had brought geldings, which were no longer interested in that sort of thing, but Warders of the Tower had a penchant for stallions. Raolin quieted his warhorse with practiced ease, guiding him away from the mare as Caraighan scrambled awkwardly into her own saddle, green woollen skirts hampering her movements. Her twin Gaidin followed her example, mounting their warhorses.

Kiam smirked, then opened herself to saidar. Light as a feather, she drifted upwards from the damp ground and floated over to settle upon Snowdrop's back. Caraighan watched her brief flight with ill-disguised envy, the Warders with rapt attention and fascination. Kiam smiled secretively. It was well to remind the others that the ancient, white-haired woman in their midst was no ordinary Aes Sedai. Caraighan Maconar might aspire to be a legend, might well succeed in that regard… but Kiam Lopiang was of the Age of Legends itself. She supposed that made her something of a myth, like the Dragon. Like the Lightborn…

"It is another two day's ride to the mountains," Caraighan commented, once Kiam was secured in the saddle. The Warders, controlling their mettlesome warhorses with deft movements of the knees, clustered around them, awaiting orders.

"We shall find the Eye of the World beyond the mountains, to the east," Kiam stated.

Caraighan looked doubtful. "You are sure of this?" she queried.

Kiam gave her a particular look, an expression that contained every iota of her considerable experience, her powerful personality.

"Kiam Sedai," Caraighan added, belatedly.

Kiam nodded firmly. "North-east. That is where Kazandra told me to seek the fabled Eye and the Green Man who guards it," she revealed.

Caraighan frowned. "Kazandra Ilisar? The novice from Manetheren, the one who can Foretell?"

"She is Accepted now, she passed her tests recently, but yes, young Kazandra prophecies accurately. Not so well as dear old Deindre could, but competently enough to suit our purposes."

"And what are our purposes, Kiam?" Caraighan demanded.

Kiam smiled mysteriously. "All shall be revealed in good time, Caraighan." She sighed. "Horses are so slow. If we but had access to a jumper, or better yet, a sho-wing, we could get there that much faster…" She patted Snowdrop between the ears, so that the graceful mare would not take offence at her disparaging comparison.

Caraighan was eyeing Kiam with some confusion. "What is a sho-wing?"

Kiam smiled again.

---

Great Southern Continental airspace – 57 Post-Strike

"You don't look well, Lightborn. Is something the matter?"

The Lightborn glanced up at Kiam Lopiang from where he sat, hunched in the flight-seat opposite, his legs drawn up, muscular arms wrapped about them, gloved hands gripping his knees tightly. He looked haggard. His face was rather pale, off-set by glowing cobalt eyes, the pupils narrowed to slits.

For a moment, it seemed that the Lightborn would not respond, but then he spoke, huskily. "I have never flown before," he admitted, then swallowed nervously.

"Oh, I have!" Kiam replied airily, "why, there is nothing to it!"

The Lightborn scowled. "I know that you have flown, Kiam Sedai," he growled, "you do it all the time… it is because you are a show-off!"

Kiam smirked, letting the insolence pass unchallenged, since the Lightborn was clearly not his usual good-humoured self.

The Lightborn stared out of the round window-port to his right, swallowing again. Dark clouds, lit by the full moon, were the only features that could be seen. The loud hum of the elderly motors all but drowned-out his subsequent remark. "It is my first time in a sho-wing," he revealed.

Kiam shrugged. "Well, there is a first time for everything," she commented evenly, then glanced around herself disparagingly, taking in the cramped passenger-compartment of the ancient sho. They were the sole occupants. "Though this crate barely qualifies for the title of sho-wing," she added, "all the best wings fell early during the Collapse, and were never replaced. It is my understanding that this sorry craft came from a museum…"

The Lightborn's strange eyes widened with alarm. "You didn't tell me that, Kiam Sedai!" he accused.

"Did I not? Well… you mightn't have come with me, had I been more specific."

"Indeed I might not, Kiam Lopiang, Aes Sedai!"

"You always use my full title when you are annoyed with me… how quaint!"

"Do not attempt to change the subject! I have not flown before, and have no wish to do so ever again!" The Lightborn thought about it for a moment, then sulkily added; "particularly when I am flying within a museum exhibit…"

A strained silence reigned between them for a while, punctuated only by the all-encompassing noise of the antique sho-wing's labouring engines. Kiam leant back in her flight-seat, which was so old, it was actually upholstered in leather! Imagine! Utilising the cured skin of a dead animal for such a purpose… how utterly barbaric!

The Lightborn swallowed yet again. Kiam reached beneath her seat and offered him a square paper bag. "If you are going to be sick, Lightborn, kindly do it in here," she requested. The Lightborn resumed his somewhat atavistic scowl. He did not take the bag. Kiam smiled crookedly. "Or are you perhaps preparing to cough-up a hairball ?" she enquired, innocently.

The Lightborn's scowl redoubled. "I am not!" he protested vehemently, "and you are a Servant of All, Kiam Sedai, you should behave less childishly! Clearly, you have a bad case of arrested development! Always with the sly jokes, the references to my-"

"Oh, do shut-up, Lightborn!" Kiam interrupted, impatiently, "sulkiness does not become you. It is hardly my fault that you are so poor a traveller…"

The Lightborn seized upon this word with enthusiasm, momentarily forgetting his queasiness. "Travelling! Exactly! Why could you not have simply Travelled to your surprise destination? This would have had the advantage of getting you there faster, and the greater advantage of my not having to be involved, since as you know, I cannot step through a Gateway."

"Really, Lightborn… where is your sense of adventure?" Kiam demanded.

"I left it behind… on the ground," the Lightborn responded, pointedly. He gulped. "Actually, I think I might need that bag after all," he mumbled.

Kiam passed the paper sick-bag to him. "Travelling is too dangerous these days, as you well know," she explained. "The few reports from the Southern Continent speak of earth-quakes and volcanic eruptions, land rifts and tidal shifts… I simply cannot risk it."

"You want to talk of risk?" hissed the Lightborn. He gestured out of the port with a gloved hand. "This thing is so old, it actually has two wings to a side… tis a bi-plane!"

"A what?"

"Something that Father once told me about."

Kiam frowned as she always did, at mention of the Defector.

"Do you think that this museum artefact will even make it to Larcheen?" the Lightborn added.

"I hope so." Kiam smiled coldly. "And besides-"

"Hwulp!"

"Eww! That is disgusting, Lightborn!"

"Sorry…"

"Well… at least you managed to get it in the bag. Most of it, anyway. And as I was saying before the revolting interruption, we are not going to Larcheen, but to somewhere else."

"Guh… where?"

"All in good time, Lightborn."

"Do you have to be so burning mysterious, Kiam Sedai?" Kiam nodded definitively. The Lightborn considered for a moment. "Is our destination… the Dragon College?"

Kiam shook her head. "No. Not the Collam Aman. But you are close to the truth of the matter, Lightborn."

The Lightborn considered it some more. Then, his eyes widened again, his mouth dropping open, pointed teeth flashing as he uttered; "the secret facility! The Hill!"

Kiam laughed, amused but also a little annoyed. "Well done, Lightborn! Yes… we are going to go under the Hill."

The Lightborn evinced disapproval, concern also. "That place is dangerous, extremely so; Uncle Gwili was never the same after he returned from there."

"Your so-called Uncle is an enormously irritating man, assuming that he is still alive. And it was his own foolishness that condemned Gwilimin Sedai to madness, not the aura of the Hill, nor even the Dark One's Taint."

"You just didn't like Uncle Gwili because he drunkenly tried to seduce you, Kiam Sedai," the Lightborn pointed-out, grinning. He was evidently feeling better.

Kiam eyed him coldly. "You know my tastes," she stated primly, "and he was hardly the first inebriated fool I have had to rebuff." She shrugged. "Though he was certainly the most persistent," she added, with a sigh.

"Why are we going to Ghenjei Sedai's old laboratory?" the Lightborn demanded, "please explain to me the reason I have abandoned my duties on the Blight Border to accompany you on yet another foolish quest?"

Kiam opened her mouth to reply; to dissemble, to prevaricate, perhaps even to tell the truth, she was unsure… but the answer never came. Her dark, tilted eyes widened at the sight of something beyond the window-port. "Lightborn?"

"Yes, Kiam Sedai?"

"One of the engines appears to be aflame…"

The Lightborn examined the blazing wing and groaned. "I always wished to die in battle, like my Brothers," he stated regretfully, "not to be immolated aboard an antiquated death-trap above my birth-place… that is just absurd!"

"Never say die, Lightborn," Kiam snapped, unbuckling her harness and rising. She grabbed one of the Lightborn's hands as he too rose, dragging him up the aisle past empty seats, toward the cockpit. The door of which slammed open, revealing a young woman, clad in a dark flight-suit. Their Pilot. Her pale hair was cropped short in the Warman style, and her blue eyes held little in the way of fear at their predicament; such emotion had been excised from her quite thoroughly by the martial training that had begun at the age of ten.

"Aes Sedai! Gholam-Killer! We have a problem!" the Pilot shouted, above the noise of the doomed sho-wing.

"I can see that, Pilot!" Kiam shouted back, "tell me; are we over land?"

"Yes, Kiam Sedai – the last fix put us one hundred and seventeen leagues due north of the Larcheen Aerodrome beacon, presuming that the Midnight City is still there…"

A hollow boom sounded from without the sho-wing and the craft tipped crazily to one side, plummeting toward the earth far below. Kiam staggered and the Lightborn grabbed her as a howling wind erupted around them. A powerful, gloved hand gripped an overhead rail, holding them both securely in place.

"I think the starboard engine just exploded!" the Lightborn bellowed.

"Really?" Kiam responded loudly, then turned to question the Pilot further, but the young woman was no longer there. A gaping, jagged hole in the front of the cockpit through which a frigid zephyr gusted gave the only explanation as to her disappearance. I never even knew her name, Kiam thought, sorrowfully. The youthful Warman Pilot had warned her that the salvaged sho-wing might not be up to the task of crossing the great Southern Ocean, but had not wavered in her determination to fly them there. And now, she was gone. And they would be joining her, or at least the Lightborn would. Heights held no fear for Kiam, of course. The same could not be said of the Lightborn, clearly. She couldn't carry him as well as herself, he was too heavy, it was not possible. Or was it?

"Come on, Lightborn!" Kiam shouted, tugging him over to the exit hatch, fighting against the vortex of air that threatened to sweep them off their feet. Smoke was beginning to fill the cabin… the end was nigh.

"What are you doing, Kiam Sedai?" the Lightborn demanded loudly, as Kiam wrenched at the emergency handle set into the heavy hatch.

"Saving us… get ready to jump!"

"Jump?"

The hatch swept open and they were sucked out into the night air, the blazing sho-wing falling away beneath them. Kiam had kept firm hold of the Lightborn's belt and, ignoring his shouted expletives, she embraced the Source through Vora's sa'angreal and cast the complex webs that the lost Talent of Flight required.

Usually, Kiam could soar through the air effortlessly, but this time she had a heavy burden to bear. She had carried the Lightborn on a previous occasion, of course, when they had saved the Tamyrlin from assassination, but that had been many years ago, nearly a half-century… he had been younger in those days… lighter. In the intervening decades of the wars, the Lightborn had reached maturity, doubling and then tripling his weight as he added considerable muscle to his already dense skeleton. In short, his mass, added to her own, was too much for Kiam to cope with, even given the aid of the sa'angreal. And so, they fell.

Below, bright orange flames marked where the wreck of the sho-wing had crashed into the trees and the ground, blanketed with forest, swept up to meet them.

"Drop me!" the Lightborn shouted desperately, "save yourself!" The fatal distance beneath them was rapidly diminishing.

Kiam's response was to tighten her grip on his belt. "Tsag!" she screamed, as she had as a girl, on the day her particular Talent had first awakened over the World Sea… she had not died then, and she would not die now. And neither would the Lightborn, she had brought him here, he was her responsibility… she would not allow him the satisfaction of losing his life at her behest!

But there seemed little hope of preserving themselves from death. It was only then that Kiam recalled her soldier's angreal, a brooch in the shape of the white tooth, a representation of the female half of the symbol of the Aes Sedai. She had never been sure why she yet carried it about her person, since Vora's sa'angreal greatly eclipsed it in Power. Nostalgia, perhaps, a reminder of her early days as a lowly Apprentice, before the unenviable duties of full Sisterhood were conferred upon her. The angreal was in her belt-pouch, and uttering a silent prayer to the Creator, Kiam promptly drew saidar through the brooch, adding the modicum of Power to the Flight webs that she was channeling. It proved to be just enough to slow their descent to a less terminal pace. The trees beneath still seemed to be sweeping up towards them, but now they did so less swiftly.

Kiam felt raw pain burning behind her eyes, she was over-channeling to a dangerous extent, much more of this and she would sever herself from the Source. Thirty feet above the forest, she could take it no more, and slowing to a near halt, she released her hold on the Lightborn. He disappeared into the darkness below, arms and legs flailing wildly. It was an amusing sight, she had to admit. A loud crash signalled his return to earth, but Kiam had her aching mind on other things. Free of her burden, the strain on her webs lessened considerably, but her power to fly was all but spent. Selecting a likely clearing, she dropped toward it, curtailing her descent at the last moment. The air was frigid and snow coated the ground; it was high summer in the north but of course, the seasons were reversed down here.

Kiam's booted feet settled delicately onto the pristine whiteness and saidin slipped away from her, leaving her feeling bereft. She sank to her knees in the snow, clutching her head, which pounded fiercely. After a while, she looked up; dark, tilted eyes taking in her surroundings. Tall, unfamiliar tree trunks loomed on all sides, the silvery roundness of the moon above casting long shadows. Nothing moved in the forest, the wintry stillness was eerie.

"Lightborn?" Kiam called softly. No answer. "Lightborn!"

Then, something stirred in the darkness beneath the trees, approaching. A low growl broke the silence, a bestial, disturbing sound.

"Is that you, Lightborn?" Kiam enquired cautiously. She couldn't channel a lick in her present over-strained condition, attempting to do so would almost certainly burn her out, possibly even kill her… but even so, she was not entirely defenceless. Kiam slipped a ceramic-bladed stiletto from its sheath in her boot and rose unsteadily.

A large, pale shape emerged from the shadows, moving stealthily forward. Some kind of predatory cat; white furred, long black claws sliding from the sheaths in its broad paws, which padded silently through the snow. Unblinking blue eyes stared at her. Kiam blinked; the beast did not. It was easily six feet long from nose to tail, her knife seemed totally inadequate when compared to its sharp teeth and sharper claws.

"Nice pussy…" Kiam whispered, venturing an ingratiating smile, "I am afraid that I don't have any milk to give you…"

In response, the great cat snarled, its feline face writhing, whiskers twitching… teeth bared, it crouched, preparing to pounce. Kiam tensed, drawing back the blade for a mortal thrust, knowing that it would probably be a wasted effort.

"Hoy!" shouted a husky voice, "cut that out, you!"

The cat turned its shaggy head, both it and Kiam staring as the Lightborn emerged from the trees. He looked bruised and dishevelled, leaves and twigs clinging to his cadin'gai uniform. The Lightborn stood, swaying slightly, glaring at the large feline, cobalt eyes glowing in the low light. Then, to Kiam's surprise, instead of attacking, the big cat made a yowling sound and trotted over to the Lightborn. It sniffed his extended hand, then went up on its back legs, resting its front paws on his shoulders, and began to enthusiastically lick his face!

"Eurgh! Get off!" the Lightborn protested, pushing it away. The cat circled him, then lay down at his feet, rolling onto its back. It was purring!

Kiam approached carefully, tucking the stiletto back into her boot. "Well, he certainly seems to like you, Lightborn," she observed.

The Lightborn was frowning slightly. "He is a she," he muttered, "I expect a male would have attacked me for trespassing on his territory…" he went down to one knee and rubbed the large feline's exposed belly, at which she took a playful swipe at him with a big paw. "They're solitary creatures," the Lightborn continued, "you don't usually see them this far north."

"Oh… what is it?" Kiam wondered.

"Southern Wildcat. Also known as the Snowcat. They get bigger than this, our friend here is just an adolescent."

"She may be your friend, Lightborn, but she certainly is not mine. Before your timely arrival, she was getting ready to eat me!"

The Lightborn shook his head whilst blocking the swiping paws of the wildcat. "I doubt that. She'd have killed you most probably, but they don't like the taste of humans. They prefer deer, wild boar, rabbits… that sort of thing."

Kiam eyed the Lightborn speculatively. "How do you know all this?"

The Lightborn looked up at Kiam, his eyes, much akin to those of the wildcat, fixing her with a vaguely disturbing gaze that held dark knowledge, bitter experience, and something else, something entirely unknowable. Something that was beyond the range of human understanding. "How do you think?"

Later, they watched as the wildcat rose and padded quietly back into the trees. It paused and gave the Lightborn a last fond stare, then disappeared into the night as soundlessly as it had arrived. The Lightborn sighed. "Sometimes, I dream that I am one of them," he said softly, speaking to himself as much as to Kiam. "I run on four legs, not two. I chase, and hunt, and kill…" The Lightborn's voice trailed off. Kiam patted him on the shoulder with commiseration, a rare display of empathy from her.

"Perhaps in another life, another time, you will live a simpler, freer existence, Lightborn," Kiam suggested.

"Indeed, Kiam Sedai," the Lightborn agreed, then shrugged and grinned, his mood changing with its customary rapidity. "Fate can be strange indeed!"

"Yes it can." Kiam shivered, her breath visibly gusting from her mouth as she spoke; "what happened to you anyway?" She brushed at the Lightborn's cadin'gai, "you've got leaves and things all over you."

"I landed in a tree."

"Oh." Kiam shivered again. "But in the meantime, it would be good to get indoors. I do not know about you, Lightborn, but I am freezing…"

The Lightborn glanced at Kiam, then up at the sky, where heavy clouds were rolling in from the north, obscuring the moon. It was getting darker… and colder. "You are right, Kiam Sedai…"

"I usually am!"

"…we need to find shelter, it will begin to snow again soon."

"Wonderful!"

"Oh, and thank you for saving me from the sho-wing, by the way."

"Well, thank you back for saving me from the wildcat, Lightborn. I suppose that makes us even."

"It does not. I have saved your life many more times than you have saved mine, Kiam Sedai. We are certainly not even."

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

Before they had travelled a league in what the Lightborn assured Kiam was a southerly direction, a full-scale blizzard was under way. Kiam shivered violently as she waded through the heavy snow in the Lightborn's tracks; he was doing his best to shovel the drifts aside and make her passage easier, but it was hard going even so. If only she could fly!

"Why do you not just fly, Kiam Sedai?" enquired the Lightborn over his shoulder, raising his voice above the howling wind that was pelting them liberally with ice crystals.

"I would if I could!" Kiam shouted back, "but I over-stretched myself carrying your hulking carcass to safety, you big lummox! I can't risk channeling for at least a dozen hours, and it's your fault, Lightborn!"

The Lightborn blinked at Kiam slowly, then turned away, not quite in time to hide his smile. Kiam scowled, rubbing briskly at her arms, continuing to shudder from the cold as she waded through the mounded snow. How she regretted her coat, lost on the sho-wing with the rest of her luggage. The fancloth gown she wore was useful for going unseen, but offered little in the way of protection against the elements. Her elegant calf-boots were equally ill-suited for the terrain and conditions, and she supposed that they were letting in snow; she couldn't feel her toes anymore. This was not good, much more of this and hypothermia would set in, frostbite too… they would not survive the blizzard unless they found shelter, and soon. Well, she would not, at least… the Lightborn did not seem in the least bit discommoded by the deadly weather conditions. Typical!

After another league, Kiam's breath was coming in loud gasps, her legs felt as though they were made of rubber, her pounding head was spinning… she needed to stop, to rest. "Lightborn," Kiam called, then closed her mouth and stood still, swaying slightly. The Lightborn walked on another few steps, kicking the piled snow out of the way, then paused, looking back at her curiously. "Lightborn…" Kiam said again, feeling nauseous, exhausted, the ache behind her eyes intensifying.

"Kiam Sedai? Is something wrong?"

"No…" Kiam mumbled, "it is just that… I think I am about to…" the howl of the wind seemed to lessen to a distant breeze, a strange warmth spreading throughout her body; "…faint." The snowy ground rose up to meet her and Kiam's last thought was that it would be good to lie down, just for a little while.

When Kiam came back to her senses, she found herself lying on her back on a hard, uneven rock surface. It was uncomfortable, but something made of cloth had been rolled-up and pillowed beneath her head, at least. A small camp-fire blazed nearby, damp wood crackling noisily. It gave little in the way of illumination, but enough that Kiam could discern that she was in a small cave. The rolled article her head was resting on appeared to be the Lightborn's fancloth poncho. She turned toward the flames, extending her chilled fingers to the warmth, moaning softly as the movement caused her head to pound more fiercely. Still, however rude the accommodations, at least she was out of the deadly blizzard.

Kiam could only assume that she had been carried here… a shadow fell over her. Kiam looked up. It was the Lightborn, indistinct in the flickering light of the small fire, stooping beneath the low roof, eyes glowing in the gloom. His arms were full of broken, split branches, which he dumped onto the floor of the cave. Kiam noted that he was not wearing his gloves. Perhaps he would lend them to her? That would be nice. Her fingers felt like icicles, while her toes were aching as life returned to them, which she took to be a good sign.

"Ah, you are awake, Kiam Sedai. Good. How do you feel?" The Lightborn's husky tones echoed oddly in the low-ceilinged cave.

Kiam opened her mouth to reply in the negative, then closed it. She sniffed; her nose wrinkled with distaste. A rank, animal odour was strongly evident. "What is that stench, Lightborn? Is it you?"

"No!" the Lightborn protested, offended, then pointed a claw at the far corner of the cave. "It is the bear."

Kiam turned and looked. The corpse of a large, brown-furred bear lay on the stone floor, parallel slashes in its flanks and neck and a large spreading pool of blood indicating that it had not died of natural causes.

"This cave was already occupied," the Lightborn explained, "and the bear would not willingly relinquish it, so I had to fight him for it."

Kiam felt vaguely guilty about this, but without shelter they might both have died, so not that guilty… even so… "Would you please take the bear outside, Lightborn? I would rather not have to look at it… smell it, either…"

"But of course, Kiam Sedai." The Lightborn moved over to his kill. "That was to be my next task, after I had collected more firewood."

Kiam watched with interest as the Lightborn gripped the dead bear by its fore-paws and dragged it from the cave. The carcass must weigh over a thousand pounds, easily, but he handled it without apparent difficulty. Just how strong was he? Very. Extremely fast, too… and then, he stood immune to channeling. Kiam feared little in life, the War and the wars that followed had driven any such weakness from her, but she sometimes felt vaguely wary around the Lightborn. Nervous, even. She sincerely hoped that she never got on his wrong side. She had not seen him lose his temper very often, but she had seen it… he was truly frightening when he was angry.

The Lightborn was gone for a while, and when he returned, there was blood on his chin, which he hastily wiped off when he saw that Kiam was staring at him.

"Have you been eating the bear?" Kiam demanded.

"Only its liver," the Lightborn admitted, then shrugged. "I was hungry. It didn't taste very nice…"

"Huh." Kiam shivered a little. "Put some more wood on the fire, Lightborn. I'm still cold."

The Lightborn did as he was bid, then lay down on the other side of the small blaze. Kiam considered a moment, then crawled over to join him. The Lightborn's strange eyes widened as she curled against his chest, pressing close.

"What are you doing, Kiam Sedai?" he gasped, scandalised.

"What do you think I am doing? I am breaking the habits of a lifetime and attempting to seduce you!" Kiam snapped impatiently, then muttered; "we need to share body warmth, Lightborn. We'll freeze, otherwise. Well, I will, anyway. I am not so sure about you, and quite frankly, I don't care. Now lie still, I need to sleep or I won't be able to channel tomorrow…" The Lightborn had tensed as Kiam touched him, now he relaxed slowly. "You are very warm," Kiam mumbled, drowsily.

"You aren't," the Lightborn growled. "You feel like you're made out of ice, Kiam Sedai… something that I have long suspected of you!" Kiam jammed an elbow into the Lightborn's ribs and he sniggered. Then, his voice became serious; "tell me true, Aes Sedai; why did we come here?"

Kiam smiled secretively. "To visit Sindhol, of course." Then, sleep claimed her, a deep slumber; bereft of dreams and nightmares.

---

The Mountains of Dhoom – 331AB

Kiam Lopiang stood upon a barren crag, gazing eastwards toward where the sun was gradually rising over a serried row of tall rock spires, though her eyes were unfocused and she was not really taking in her first glimpse of what was presumably the northernmost edge of the Aiel Waste. A small smile curved her lips as she recalled the Lightborn's embarrassment at having her snuggle close to him for warmth… she might also have kissed him in jest, as she had once before to teach him a lesson for his endless practical jokes. Near seven hundred years had passed since the Lightborn had disappeared from her life, but she still remembered him in colourful detail, when much else in her lengthy existence had faded into obscurity.

Kiam blinked and shook her head. More and more, she found herself entranced by the distant past, whilst the present seemed to mean less to her with each passing day. But here she stood in the Mountains of Dhoom, beyond the great pass known simply as 'The Gap' that led down into the borderlands of Aramaelle… this was not a good place to speculate on ancient history at the expense of watchfulness.

A soft footfall on rock behind her and Kiam tensed, but then composed herself… Raolin Gaidin would not have let anything approach that might be a threat. And it could not be her Warder himself for in that event she would have heard nothing, since Raolin moved as quietly as a cat at all times. The other Gaidin, despite their size, were almost equally stealthy, which left only…

"Hello, Caraighan." Kiam spoke without troubling to turn around. "Come to admire the view?"

Caraighan Maconar moved to stand beside Kiam, staring out at the wastelands that seemed to stretch on forever. "They call it the Three-fold Land," she muttered.

"Who do?"

"The Aiel. Apparently, they claim that the Waste was created in order to test them… and to punish them, also."

Kiam shrugged. "It used to be a great sea, you know."

Caraighan ignored this remark, eyeing Kiam curiously. "I heard a rumour, when I was a novice… it was said that the Aiel savages used to serve us, in the Age of Legends? That they were once the loyal servants of the Aes Sedai… surely that cannot be true?"

Kiam frowned. It was not something that she liked to even think about, let alone discuss. "It went deeper than that, Caraighan. There was a Covenant between us, but it was broken. As was much else. That, incidentally, is why those terrible times are known as 'the Breaking of the World.'"

Caraighan frowned also, dissatisfied with this response. "I see."

"You did not come here for the impressive vista, or to converse about the Aiel, Caraighan. Is something on your mind?"

"There is, Kiam." Caraighan hesitated, then demanded; "why do you seek the Eye of the World? You are old and frail, this unnecessary quest could kill you! You should be safely back at the White Tower… in fact, you should be Amyrlin! It is a great honour, and yet you refused the Seat! Why?" Caraighan's mouth snapped shut and she did something that Kiam had never seen her do before. She blushed.

Kiam chuckled, then observed; "I seem to have opened the floodgates!"

"Forgive me, I meant no disrespect," Caraighan muttered, abashed.

"But of course you did not… you merely asked the questions that your Sisters have been too craven to seek answered themselves!" Kiam gazed back at the stark view for a moment, collecting herself. Then, she pinned Caraighan with a cold stare. "I am feeling generous so shall address your impertinent comments and queries in reverse order. Firstly; I rejected the role of Amyrlin Seat because I had no desire to spend my twilight years as a figurehead of the Hall and its many ambitious Sitters… and besides, I knew that Mabriam would do a far better job of it than I ever could. After all, she actually likes politics. I do not. Secondly; despite what you patronisingly term my elderly frailty, or perhaps even because of it, I wish to embark upon one last venture into the unknown. And if I wish something, then I generally endeavour to make it happen." Caraighan was meeting Kiam's eyes, mouth slightly open as though she wanted to interrupt. Wisely, she did not. "Lastly; I do not seek the Eye as such, I seek Someshta. Or the Green Man, as you uneducated youngsters refer to him. I would speak with the last of the Nym a final time, pass on a message to an old friend, and then…" Kiam smiled gently; "…why, then my tale ends. It has been a long story, with a great many chapters, but everything comes to its inevitable conclusion, even Kiam Lopiang, Aes Sedai."

Caraighan was still staring at Kiam. "But..?" she spluttered.

"I have no intention of wasting away and expiring in my sick-bed… given the sort of life I have led, that would hardly be fitting. No, I shall journey to the realm of the last Nym, as Solinda, Deindre and the others did, long ago, when they sacrificed their lives for the future. It is only right that I too should go there to die."

Caraighan brooded on this for a moment, then whispered; "it seems selfish, somehow… the Tower needs you, Kiam, you are our final link with the past, with the Age of Legends… and what of Raolin Gaidin? He will not long survive you."

"I shall release him from the Bond prior to my death. Perhaps you would take him on? If your own Warders do not object?"

"I shall ask them." Caraighan hesitated, then lifted her skirts slightly and performed a surprisingly graceful curtsy. "We may not particularly like each other, but it has been an honour knowing you, Kiam Aes Sedai."

"Honour be damned, I am not dead yet!" Kiam snapped, testily.

Caraighan coloured and opened her mouth to doubtless say something objectionable, but then her greyish eyes widened with surprise and alarm as they focused on something behind Kiam. "There is an Aielman watching us!" she warned.

Kiam turned, and regarded the tall, red-headed man who was squatting easily atop a boulder some twenty yards away, deep green eyes staring at them unblinkingly. "So there is," Kiam commented, unconcerned.

Raolin Gaidin was at their side in an instant, blade drawn, and after a scant moment, Aldor and Baltus came running from the direction of the campsite, swords at the ready. They must have sensed Caraighan's reactions through the Bond that the three shared.

The Aielman did not seem to feel particularly threatened by the armed Warders, but called out to the two Sisters in high, clear tones; "I see you, travellers! Are you Aes Sedai? I think that you must be."

"We are!" Caraighan shouted back.

"Da'shain," Kiam whispered, "the People of the Dragon." Caraighan overheard, glanced at her curiously.

"May I approach?" the Aielman requested, his voice oddly accented.

"You may," Kiam responded. Caraighan frowned and Raolin shook his head slightly. Kiam could feel her young Warder's disapproval through the Bond. She ignored this, as she often did.

"He has no spears," Aldor Gaidin noted.

"Nor knife," added Baltus Gaidin.

The tall Aielman slipped down from his rocky perch and began to walk toward them with feral grace. He was indeed unarmed, and given that he was clad in the cadin'sor, Kiam could almost imagine that he actually was Dedicated… but for the deep, white scar that twisted his face, no true Da'shain would ever have had such a mark of violence upon them. And there was nothing meek or pacifistic about the man, he moved with the assurance of a born warrior.

"How they have changed," Kiam murmured, sadly. Again, Caraighan gave her a questioning look.

In addition to weapons, the Aielman also lacked the black veil for which his people were famed. Ever since the Kingdom of Almoren had attempted to conquer the Aiel some two hundred years previously, their incursion into the Waste bloodily repulsed at the cost of several Legions, tales of these fierce warrior's supremacy in battle had abounded. No veil then, but oddly, a narrow black band was stretched about the Aielman's brow, framing his short, reddish hair. It rather reminded Kiam of the headband that the Lightborn always wore to cover his ears, about which he had been self-conscious...

At the Aielman's approach, Caraighan tensed and her Warders stepped in front of her, blades levelled. Raolin attempted to do likewise for his Aes Sedai, but Kiam put a restraining hand on his arm, stopping him. She took a step forward, feeling her Gaidin's concern and wariness through the Bond, but not heeding these sensations. The Aielman paused five paces away and bowed low to Kiam and Caraighan, a hand held out in a cupped gesture. The Warders, he ignored, as though they were not there, an unusual attitude for one faced with three Gaidin, weapons poised for killing.

"What is your name?" Kiam enquired.

The Aielman's eyes widened slightly as though he had not been expecting her to concern herself with such details, but he answered readily enough. "I am Jendin of the Wet Sands Sept of the Shaido Aiel," he declared, pridefully. He considered for a moment, then added, with a trace of regret; "or at least I was… now I am Jendin of no place in particular!" He laughed softly, as though at some private joke.

Kiam and Caraighan exchanged wordless glances.

"May I know what you are called, Aes Sedai?" Jendin asked.

"Of course," Kiam responded, "I am Kiam Lopiang of the White Ajah, my companion is Caraighan Maconar of the Green."

Jendin blinked slowly as he considered this. "I know not what an 'ajah' may be," he commented, "but it would seem that they are of differing colours…" He glanced at the Gaidin. "And your Wardermen?"

"Aldor and Baltus," Caraighan replied shortly.

Jendin eyed the identical Gaidin drolly. "I can assume that they are related?" he jested, and laughed again.

Kiam frowned slightly. There was something not quite right about the Aielman… not his total absence of fear, that was only to be expected, but…

Jendin turned to Raolin. "And you, Brother of Battles?"

"I am Raolin-called-Darksbane, late of Aren Mador," the tall Warder responded levelly.

Jendin stared at Raolin for a long moment, unblinking. "There is something about you, Wetlander…" he muttered, as though speaking to himself, then shook his head. "No matter." He turned to Kiam. "May I ask of you a question, Aes Sedai?"

"You may," Kiam allowed.

"Which way is it to Shayol Ghul?"

Kiam and the others reacted with surprise and wariness to this unexpected query. There was definitely something untoward about this lone Aielman…

Jendin continued speaking, unconcernedly; "I have heard that it is to the north, somewhere, but that is hardly specific. I must get there before it is too late…"

Kiam spoke carefully, as one does to those whose insanity makes them dangerous. "Jendin, why do you wish to go to… to that place?"

Jendin answered her question in a casual way, as though speaking of the weather; "oh, it is because I mean to kill the Dark One. Shayol Ghul is Sightblinder's Hold, is it not? That is where Shai'tan is to be found."

Silence greeted this explanation for a long moment. Kiam embraced the Source, and sensed that Caraighan was doing likewise. Clearly, they were dealing with a madman…

"How will you kill the Dark One without weapons?" Aldor asked.

"Where are your spears?" added Baltus.

Jendin shrugged. "I left them behind at Wet Sands," he explained, "I no longer have need of them. See?" He pointed at a large rock some fifty feet away, narrowing his eyes with concentration. Nothing happened for a heartbeat, then the rock abruptly exploded, splinters of stone flying in all directions.

Kiam hastily wove a shield around them to deflect the sharp missiles.

Jendin glanced at Kiam curiously. "Do you hold the Power, Aes Sedai?" he enquired, "I feel my skin crawling…"

"Souvraniene!" Caraighan shouted warningly, preparing battle-weaves as her Warders moved in closer to better protect her. Raolin stepped smoothly in front of Kiam to provide the same service, his long, curved blade raised as he assumed the stance of Heron Wading in the Rushes.

Jendin eyed the Warders with a curious mixture of humour and disapproval. "There is no need for that, Wardermen," he protested, "do you not know that I would sooner pluck out my own eyes than harm Aes Sedai?!"

"I am sure that is so," observed Kiam, attempting to push Raolin out of the way, though the young Gaidin stood as immovable as Dragonmount itself. "But you are a male channeler, Jendin. It makes you a danger; to yourself and to others."

"Yes indeed," agreed Jendin equably, "you speak true, Aes Sedai. This is why my people sent me away. Amongst the Aiel, men cursed with the One Power always go north to kill the Dark One… it is the way of things."

"A harsh custom," Kiam commented, with a hint of commiseration.

"Ours is a harsh existence," Jendin pointed-out. "It has always been so, it will always be so… at least, until the Car'a'carn comes to us and commands the Aiel in the Final Battle, spilling our blood like water…" He shrugged, then confided; "though He Who Comes with the Dawn should just lead the mighty Shaido to a glorious end, for the other clans, the fools who live to the south, are unworthy of the great honour of waking from the dream in Tarmon Gai'don!"

"Who is this Chief of Chiefs that you speak of?" Kiam enquired, ignoring the evident concern of the others at being in close proximity to a possibly Tainted male channeler. Madmen held no fear for her, she had faced and defeated more of them than any Aes Sedai living.

"You do not know of the Car'a'carn?" Jendin muttered, with apparent disbelief, "but long ago, the Prophecy of Rhuidean was foretold to we Aiel by Aes Sedai!"

Kiam thought of the four Sisters whom Elisane Tishar, the first Amyrlin, had sent to find what remained of the Da'shain. They had never returned. All had been able to Prophecy, it was why they had been selected for the task, presumably.

"Excuse me," Caraighan snapped, pointing a serpent-ringed finger north-west, "I hate to interrupt, but Shayol Ghul is that way! The dread mountain of the Dark One lies beyond the peaks and the blasted lands. Good luck to you, Aielman!"

Jendin grinned savagely. "Should I encounter Leafblighter, I shall burn him with my fires and then eat his heart!" he boasted.

"Eurgh!" exclaimed Caraighan.

The cursed Aielman bowed again. "I thank you for the directions, Caraighan Maconar. It was good to talk with you, Kiam Lopiang. I must be on my way…"

Jendin then stared at Raolin again, something more than simple curiosity in his eyes. Raolin did not react to the strange look, but through the Bond, Kiam could sense that he was uncomfortable. Rare for him.

"Farewell, Sisters of the White Tower, Wardermen. We shall not meet again in the dream." Jendin glanced at Kiam. "Just one final question remains… it is said that we Aiel failed the Aes Sedai, in the Age of Legends, that we were sent to the Three-Fold Land as our deserved punishment. Should I succeed in my task of slaying the Dark One, will our transgression be forgiven? Our shame expiated?"

"But of course, Jendin," Kiam agreed, preparing a shield of Spirit should the channeling Aielman suddenly turn violent, or prove otherwise troublesome.

Jendin smiled, pleased. "This is good." Then, without further ado, the Aielman turned and strode away. Heading north-west, to Shayol Ghul.

"I rather doubt that we shall see him again," Caraighan muttered.

Kiam frowned at her, then turned her dark, tilted gaze back to the doomed Aielman, his brown and grey cadin'sor blending swiftly with the bleak surroundings as he merged with the barren scarp. "Jendin!" she called, impulsively.

Jendin paused, turning to regard the ancient Aes Sedai expectantly.

Kiam hesitated, then revealed; "I would have you to know that it was not the Da'shain Aiel who failed the Aes Sedai." Profound sorrow flickered briefly over her smooth, impassive features. "It was we who failed you."

---

The Great Southern Continent – 57 Post-Strike

"But why do you want us to go to Sindhol of all places?" the Lightborn demanded, and not for the first time.

Kiam Lopiang declined to answer, she was too breathless to speak, even had she been so inclined. They trudged on through the snow in silence for a time, gradually cresting a long, low hill, lined with unfamiliar trees, icicles hanging from their boughs like strange and ethereal fruit.

"You do know that it is dangerous there?" the Lightborn muttered, eventually.

Kiam smiled frostily, then sighed, her breath emerging in a pale cloud. It was very cold, but she ignored the chill with her usual detachment, though drew the bearskin further about her shoulders despite this. She hoped that the heavy article did not contain any fleas, but valued it even so. It had kept the beast warm, while it lived, and now performed the same office for her. In the morning, after an uncomfortable night in the cave, the Lightborn had thoughtfully skinned the unfortunate bear, scraping the inside of its pelt clean, and Kiam had been able to summon a trickle of saidar to provide heat-webs for further curing its hairy hide. She shuddered to think what she must look like, swathed in this rude fur, but fortunately there were no other Sisters around to see and make snide comments, no-one but the Lightborn, though he was bad enough. He had naturally made tiresome jokes about her appearance for much of the morning, referring to her as 'She-bear Sedai' and 'Shaggy Servant' on several occasions, but his good-humour had gradually faded, given their destination.

"Dangerous!" the Lightborn repeated, ominously.

"I know it is dangerous, do you think me stupid?" Kiam snapped, as they reached the top of the hill, pausing to rest and take-in the view. "Possibly the most dangerous place that there is, with the exception of Shayol Ghul…" Kiam paused to suck in several breaths of freezing air, then coughed. "I believe that I am contracting a cold," she mused, then fixed the Lightborn with an imperious gaze. "But in any event, we must go to Sindhol."

"But why?"

"There is someone there, held in captivity, a person of great import to the Pattern, and to the future also. We shall rescue her."

"Who?" the Lightborn inevitably wanted to know.

"Elisane Tishar."

"Elisane Sedai? Captive in Sindhol? What is she doing there?"

"That is an excellent question, Lightborn, and I shall certainly ask it of Elisane when I see her."

"If you see her. Why could you not just tell me this before?"

"Because much as I hate to admit it, I need you, Lightborn, and you might not have come with me if you knew how hazardous our mission was. But now…" Kiam pointed, the winter sun flashing on the golden ouroboros ring decorating her pale hand, a recent fashion amongst female Aes Sedai, "…here we are."

The Lightborn gazed in the indicated direction. From the forest below loomed a dark, round hill, perfectly spherical, breaking the swathe of snow-laden trees. No natural hill, and no natural place. "So we are," the Lightborn said softly, and made a shuddering motion. "I hoped never to come here again. Once was enough!"

"But it is to there that we must go," Kiam responded smoothly, then started down the slope toward the forest, booted feet crunching through the snow, not looking back. She listened intently however, and when after a moment's delay, the sound of the Lightborn's steps could be heard following, Kiam smiled with satisfaction. She did not like to own to it, even to herself, but had been loath to come here alone. There were few thing in life, or death for that matter, that disturbed her, but the inhabitants of Sindhol were definitely numbered amongst them. The Aelfinn and the Eelfinn. The stuff of legend… and nightmares, also. In any event, she was glad that the Lightborn had accompanied her on her desperate mission, even if…

"You had best be careful within the forest, Kiam Sedai; some hunters might mistake you for a bear, and riddle you with shocklance bolts!"

"That is most amusing, Lightborn. Most amusing indeed." Even if he did have a lamentable sense of humour…

It was dark beneath the trees as they traversed an old, uneven pathway, obsidian slabs disturbed by encroaching tree roots, lined in many places with statues. Most of these sculpted figures had limbs and heads knocked off or were otherwise defaced, with vile words daubed in the Shadow-tongue scrawled across the plinths. The vandalism of Mesaana's Children, doubtless. Kiam ignored the statuary, but paused when the Lightborn did, gazing at a particular rendition of a reclining fox, a snake coiled about it.

"It looks like Father's work," the Lightborn commented, "this one is new, it was not here when I came before."

Kiam examined the statue, which was carved from gleaming elstone, somewhat pitted. The fox had a decidedly sinister cast to its vulpine features. So did the serpent, for that matter. "The Defector is notorious for his disturbing sculptures," Kiam muttered, disapprovingly.

The Lightborn glared at her, incensed. "Don't call him that! Latra Sedai told you not to… Father did not defect – he merely escaped!"

Kiam sneered. "He may not be the Defector then, but he is certainly not your Father either!"

"He is! Well, perhaps not in the full sense of the word, but Father is the closest thing I will ever have to a parent…"

"I would not be so sure of that, Lightborn."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh… nothing."

They glared at each other awhile, then the Lightborn shrugged, asking; "why do you hate him so much, Kiam Sedai? Why do you despise Chaime Kufer Mors, Aes Sedai, so?"

Because he brought shame and disgrace to my family, Kiam answered silently, saying instead; "I will tell you, Lightborn, as a reward for your aid, when we return from Sindhol, our mission accomplished."

"Not when! If!"

"We shall see."

Kiam turned and continued down the path, the Lightborn reluctantly following. Both maintained a somewhat sulky silence for a time, but the grim quietude of the gloomy forest soon became oppressive, and eventually the Lightborn spoke; "for what reason do you bring us all the way down here, Kiam Sedai? Why not utilise the Tower of Ghenjei to breach Sindhol, or one of the Doorways?"

Kiam eyed the Lightborn expressionlessly, then shrugged, the bearskin cape nearly slipping from her shoulders with the motion, before she caught it and restored it to its place. "The location of the Doorways was lost in the War. Oselle has been seeking them for some time, though I am not sure why. As for poor old Ghenjei's insane Tower, why, tis a trap for the unwary! Useless to my needs…"

The Lightborn's brow furrowed and he tripped upon an uneven paving slab, before recovering his balance with customary dexterity. "A trap, you say?" he enquired, "how so?"

"Are you completely lack-witted, Lightborn?! Once you go into the Tower, there is no way out!"

"Unless you have a Key."

"Do you have a Key, Lightborn?"

"Well… no."

"And neither do I. Nor did Jethari Moondancer and Psubedai, but she took him into the Tower of Ghenjei regardless, acting against my advice, and the two of them were never seen again!"

"Psubedai and Jethari!" the Lightborn exclaimed, excitedly, "I did not know that you knew them!"

"There is a great deal that you do not know, Lightborn," Kiam observed, "enough to fill the Can Breat!"

The Lightborn ignored Kiam's scorn, as he so often did, or perhaps he did not hear, since he was too busy enthusing; "Jethari Moondancer, the Peerless Archer! Psubedai of the Twin Blades! True Heroes of the Light… how I wish that I had met them also!"

"You might have been disappointed, Lightborn. Reality does not always do justice to the legend it spawned… Jethari was the most foul-mouthed, ill-mannered woman I have ever encountered, even worse than Azille Narof, and Psubedai was an ugly, morose introvert, who only seemed content when he was engaged in killing something. A more mismatched couple I have never seen."

"Well, love can be a strange thing, Kiam Sedai. And was it not for the sake of love that Jethari took her cherished Psubedai to Sindhol, that he might be healed of his wound by the Finn-folk?"

"I suppose… a terrible idea, neither the Eelfinn nor the Aelfinn go in much for healing… hurting is more their style. Doubtless, Jethari's desperation was down to the fact that she knew she would likely never meet another man who could stand her obnoxious company!"

Kiam smirked. The Lightborn frowned.

"Tsk! You have no poetry in your soul, Kiam Sedai."

"And you have no soul in your poetry, Lightborn! I've read some of it, and it's awful!" Kiam smiled triumphantly, pleased with her turn of phrase.

The Lightborn scowled, pupils slitting, but then his expression cleared and he grinned ruefully. "True enough! I ceased attempting tragic verse some time ago, for I do not have the facility for it. Though had I the time, I should like to try my hand at a symphony or two, Latra Sedai is always encouraging me to write music, but I don't have the time." He resumed his scowl. "Because over and above my war-duties, my time is largely taken up with you and your damned intrigues, Kiam Sedai! I really do not wish to be here, in this depressing place!"

Kiam chuckled. "Is that so? I should never have guessed…"

"Huh. So what happened to them?"

"Who?"

"Jethari Moondancer and Psubedai, of course! You said that they never emerged from the Tower of Ghenjei, Kiam Sedai?"

"Oh, doubtless they wandered the labyrinth of Sindhol, lost and disconsolate, until death took them."

"May the Hand of the Creator shelter them."

"Indeed. I know! Perhaps I should invent a tale of Jethari and Psubedai? I could say that they fell in glorious battle against the Snakes, or the Foxes…"

"Or both. They would appreciate that, Kiam Sedai, it is a good idea. I know that you like to make-up stories, you should do it." The Lightborn sighed, gustily. "We shall not see their like again…"

"Be not sad, Lightborn, tis said that Psubedai and Jethari Moondancer were both bound to the Horn of Valere. I dare say they'll be back, only with different names and faces, ere long."

"Presumably. So what is to stop us from sharing their dark fate?"

"You, Lightborn!"

The Lightborn opened his mouth, sharp teeth flashing, to object, deny, repudiate, perhaps all three… but it was then that the path came to an abrupt end and they stepped through a crumbling marble archway into a great clearing, devoid of trees, dominated by the looming bulk of the Hill. The Lightborn closed his mouth, then opened it again. "Hob's Hill," he muttered, "I do not like it here."

"I have long wished to see it for myself," Kiam commented levelly, then eyed the Lightborn curiously. "You met Ghenjei Diss Salomon when last you were here?"

"Saloman. His third name was Saloman. And no, Ghenjei Sedai was long-gone when I came to this ill place with Uncle Gwili, he had Travelled north with his Da'shain and Ogier artisans, to construct his Tower."

"Uncle!" Kiam muttered, disparagingly, then mused; "yes, the fabled Tower of Ghenjei… from the heights of which, its maker threw himself to his death, in a fit of profound despair."

"A shame, that. But he was always a little odd, was Ghenjei Sedai. Brilliant, but decidedly strange. Some say it was the Taint that made him do it, but personally, I think it was his studies of the Finn-folk that drove him completely mad!"

"Probably. The denizens of Sindhol reportedly have an adverse effect on the minds of all who encounter them."

"And you want us to go there!"

"We must, Lightborn. Deindre said so."

"Deindre Sedai? Not another bloody Prophecy!"

"The accurate term is 'Foretelling,' Lightborn. Elisane vanished some time ago. It would seem that she unwisely visited Sindhol, in her quest to find answers…"

"What answers? Elisane Sedai never mentioned any quests to me…"

Kiam glanced at the Lightborn, raising a delicate eyebrow. "I can only assume that you and she were otherwise occupied with differing matters… tell me, how long did your ill-fated relationship last?"

"A couple of moons, if you must know, Kiam Sedai." The Lightborn hesitated, then added; "of course, you are aware that she is Ta'veren?"

"I have heard it rumoured…"

"Tis no rumour, but fact! Elisane Sedai used to ask me questions about myself, my Brothers, Father… things I have never told anyone, not even you, Kiam Sedai, but I told her! I would try to prevaricate, change the subject, lie even… but to no avail! No-one is that persuasive, but she was!"

"These question and answer sessions, did they perhaps take place in bed?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, usually after we had made love. Why do you ask?"

"Because I have had much the same experience with Elisane… in much the same location."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed. But you are entirely correct, Lightborn. The Dragon was Ta'veren, and so is Elisane Tishar, seemingly. That is why delivering her from captivity is of such import. She has a prominent part to play in times yet to come, many turnings of the Wheel from now. A vital role, in quelling the chaos of the Breaking and restoring order to a troubled world."

The Lightborn nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that certainly sounds like something she might do. Elisane Sedai always was one for organising things… did Deindre Sedai tell you this?"

Kiam shook her head slowly. "Not in so many words, Lightborn, but with Deindre, one has to read between the lines."

"One certainly does!" the Lightborn agreed.

Whilst talking, Kiam and the Lightborn had been steadily approaching the enormous dome that rivalled a hill in its dimensions, pacing toward a semi-circular aperture, Ogier-high, that broke the smooth perfection of those curvilinear walls. A line in the stone bisected the arch down the middle, but there seemed to be no apparent means of access. They stood before the sealed entrance, silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Kiam glanced expectantly at the Lightborn. He sighed.

"You really mean to do this, Kiam Sedai?"

"No! Having come all this way, risking our lives in the process, I have abruptly and perversely changed my mind! Let us turn around, return to the Northborder and speak of this no more, Lightborn!"

"You know, Kiam Sedai, sarcasm is the last refuge of the-"

"Oh, do shut-up! You are tiresome, Lightborn. The Key-ter'angreal – I know you have it!"

The Lightborn frowned, but reached into one of the smaller pouches on his belt, producing a small crystalline sphere. He held it up. "Spirit, if you please..."

Kiam closed her dark, tilted eyes tightly, opening herself to saidar with the ease of long practice, though at once felt her head begin to ache. It was a little soon for channeling, after her over-exertions of the previous day, but it had to be done. Besides, the pain was merely a dull throb compared with the burning sensation from earlier, when she had cast heat-webs to cure the bear's hide. She was recovering, which was well. She might need every iota of her Power for the ordeal ahead.

A thin flow of Spirit into the crystal Key-ter'angreal gripped in the Lightborn's gloved hand; it flared brightly for a moment, engendering an answering flash of light from within the aperture. A loud rumble of stone on stone, and the two halves of the wall before them slid slowly apart, revealing a path into darkness.

Kiam rubbed briefly at her temples, then smiled brightly. "Come, Lightborn. Let us go under the Hill!"

It was pitch-black inside, and an unpleasant, musty odour hung in the still air. The Lightborn produced a miniature sar-light and held it helpfully aloft, so that Kiam could make her way further into the dome without bumping into things. Ancient, cracked tiles crunched beneath their boots, a cavernous space extending all around them.

"The illuminations do not appear to be functioning," Kiam muttered, disliking the way her voice, though pitched low, echoed back from the high ceiling.

"There never were any illuminations," the Lightborn responded, "Uncle Gwili told me that Ghenjei Sedai liked the darkness."

"But how could he see anything?"

"Well, he couldn't anyway. Ghenjei Diss Saloman was blind!"

"Really?"

"Yes, he damaged his eyes in an accident, no-one was quite sure how…"

"Could not a Restorer have mended his vision?"

"Most probably, but Ghenjei Sedai refused Healing. Uncle Gwili said he preferred being sightless, that it helped him concentrate upon his thoughts and theories, having the distractions of the world blotted out."

"An unusual man indeed. Gwilimin Sedai knew him well, I believe?"

"Oh yes. Uncle Gwili was his only Apprentice for some fifty years, at least until…" The Lightborn trailed-off. The cold, white glow of the sar-light made his features seem washed-out, hard to read, but he looked uncomfortable, even so.

"Until his disappearance," Kiam whispered, completing the sentence.

The Lightborn shrugged. "Gwili Beneath the Hill," he whispered back.

"I am familiar with the story."

In an unsanctioned experiment, the Apprentice Gwilimin Leafwright ventured into the Doorway of the Eelfinn, then located at Hob's Hill, Ghenjei Sedai's clandestine research facility. He had not emerged at the appointed time, and as weeks became months with no sign of him, he was given up for dead. Use of the Doorways was proscribed, and both devices were sealed within a forgotten laboratory, where they gathered dust for a century. It was then, one-hundred years to the day, that Gwili finally emerged, much changed from the man who had entered the Doorway. He had never been the same since. Part of him had remained in Sindhol, lost forever… and part of Sindhol had come back with him, to the World of the Wheel. This singular event might have garnered more notice from the Aes Sedai, but by then the Collapse that preceded the War was fully underway and they had other things to occupy them. Terrible things. The Dark One's touch was upon the world, and the travails of a lone madman were of little consequence, beyond the creation of a myth that would later degenerate into a colourful story told to amuse children.

At the centre of the dome, a wide ramp spiralled into darkness. Kiam did not hesitate, but started down it, pausing when she realised that the Lightborn was not following. He stood above, irresolute, still holding the up sar-light. He looked a little like some kind of bizarre statue, she considered.

"Well, Lightborn? Are you coming or not?"

"I'd really rather not, Kiam Sedai. Come, it is not too late… let us leave this unfortunate place and return to our responsibilities in the north. We do not even know if Elisane Sedai is captive in Sindhol, Deindre Sedai has been wrong before…"

"You are afraid to go further, Lightborn."

"Am not!"

"Fraidy-cat!"

The Lightborn frowned, blinking his strange, glowing eyes slowly, then muttering angrily to himself, he started down the ramp, pushing past Kiam and leading the way into the dark. "I cannot let you go alone, Kiam Sedai," he growled.

"Whyever not?"

"Because you are Aes Sedai, of course. My sworn duty is to serve and protect you…"

"To protect me from what?"

"From yourself, mostly!"

Kiam laughed softly. "You never cease to surprise me, Lightborn. Service until death, eh?"

"It may well come to that."

"Be not so gloomy. There are worse places to go than Sindhol, after all."

"Precious few. And you are only saying that because you have never been there, Kiam Sedai." The Lightborn halted his progress down the ramp and turned, fixing Kiam with a disturbing, unwinking gaze, his pupils narrowing to slits, his habitually good-humoured features become unaccustomedly grim. "Well, I have."

The spiralling ramp descended deep into the earth, emerging into a massive, circular chamber, walled and floored with cuendillar slabs. Storage-chests and various large ter'angreal lined the curving circumference, a tall, crystalline column stood to one side, an ornate elstone chair to the other, but Kiam's attention was fixed on the artefact that occupied the centre; a shining array of long silver rods, forming a three-sided pyramid. That which they had come here to utilise. The Dimension Gate.

The Lightborn ignored it, going instead to the crystal column. He rapped upon it with his knuckles. "Hoy, Seneschal!" he called, "are you there?"

Immediately, the tall column began to glow, ethereal light blooming from within, swirling colours resolving themselves into a shape.

"Who is Seneschal?" Kiam enquired, going over to join him. The Lightborn pointed wordlessly at the coalescing form, which swiftly assumed the aspect of a slender, ageless man, clad in a long white robe which left his right shoulder bare. His skull was hairless, his skin dark, a small smile twitching the thin lips of his cadaverous face. His eyes were unblinking, and shone with a strange, golden light. He floated within the crystal column, regarding them intently.

"He is Seneschal," explained the Lightborn, softly.

The apparition that had appeared inside the column, a device that Kiam could only assume was some sort of special ter'angreal, inclined his bald head, hands clasped together before him. The voice with which he addressed them was utterly devoid of intonation, and seemed to somehow come from all around the chamber.

"Greetings, War-Construct Tro. It is well to see you again."

"You too. But I have a different name now, Seneschal." A hint of pride tinged the Lightborn's words; "I am called Sin'aethan Shadar Cor."

Seneschal nodded sagely. "A fine title. You have grown, it seems, in more ways than one." The apparition turned to Kiam. "Might I be addressing Kiam Lopiang, Aes Sedai?"

Kiam blinked. "You might," she allowed, then added suspiciously; "how do you know who I am? We have never met… I should certainly have remembered it!"

Seneschal replied placidly; "I had full access to the Hall of Servant's records, prior to its razing in the War."

"They rebuilt it," the Lightborn muttered.

"That is good to know. From the surviving information, I extrapolate that there is an eighty-three percent probability that you are Kiam Sedai. You were listed as an Apprentice, but I see that you currently wear the Ring."

"Oh…" Kiam responded, then demanded; "what are you? I have never seen anything like you before!"

The Lightborn provided an answer; "Seneschal is a Construct of sorts, not biological like me, more mechanical. Jorlen Corbesan designed him. He is unique."

Seneschal nodded affirmatively. "Indeed I am." He directed a vaguely quizzical glance at the Lightborn. "How is Jorlen Sedai? Well, I hope?"

The Lightborn hesitated, a look of confusion passing over his features, then answered; "not really. He died when the Sharom was destroyed."

An artificial flash of regret appeared briefly on Seneschal's thin face. "Oh dear. They never told me. And my old Master, Ghenjei Sedai? Did he successfully construct his experimental Tower?"

The Lightborn nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. And he is dead too."

"How sad." Seneschal shook his hairless head slowly back and forth. "Mortality is such a finite concept." He turned back to Kiam, gold eyes examining her with interest. "You possess the rare Talent of Flight, I believe?" he enquired.

Kiam nodded impatiently. "Yes, but don't ask me for a demonstration, I am somewhat overstretched at the moment."

Seneschal squinted at her. "That is certainly the case, your aura has a reddish tinge to it… perhaps I might be of assistance, in that regard?"

Before Kiam could respond, a beam of bright golden light was projected from the top of the crystalline column, enveloping her. A warm, glowing sensation infused her body and she felt the residual ache behind her eyes abruptly fade. The light vanished with the same immediacy with which it had appeared. "What did you do to me?" Kiam demanded.

Seneschal shrugged his bony shoulders, an oddly human gesture. "Attempt to channel," he suggested.

Kiam scowled, but let the bearskin slip from her and cautiously embraced the Source. Saidar filled her and her boots rose from the heartstone slabs as she used the Power to fuel her distinctive Talent. She hovered in the still air above the Lightborn and the crystal column that contained Seneschal, not experiencing any discomfort, exulting in no longer being grounded.

"That is amazing!" Kiam exclaimed, "however did you do that, Seneschal?"

"A simple realignment of synapses," Seneschal answered modestly, "as well as one or two other adjustments that are somewhat more complex."

Kiam let her feet settle to the floor and released saidar with reluctance. "What is your purpose, Seneschal?" she enquired, "why were you made?"

"Oh, to advise and assist," Seneschal answered, "Ghenjei Sedai was good enough to utilise my aid with his simpler experiments. A fine scientist, we conversed often about a variety of subjects, most illuminating. How is he, by the way? Did he successfully build his Tower?"

Kiam and the Lightborn exchanged a wordless glance. The Lightborn answered, his tone careful; "we just told you, Seneschal, a moment ago. Ghenjei Sedai is no more…"

"That is most unfortunate!"

"And I believe that you must have been informed of Jorlen Corbesan's demise a long time ago, but you did not seem to recall that either…"

"Worrying! Please wait briefly, I shall perform an internal diagnostic." Seneschal's image vanished amidst a swirl of roiling colours, before returning an instant later. He was now frowning slightly. "It would seem that some of my memory circuitry has degraded, particularly with regard to short-term mnemonics. How provoking! I shall require repair."

The Lightborn shook his head sadly, whilst Kiam watched in silence. "I am sorry, Seneschal, but there are none alive today capable of such endeavours. Too much knowledge was lost in the War, and in the turmoil of the years since."

Seneschal made a sighing sound, which echoed all around them. "That is disappointing," he commented, then his image flickered, the illumination within the crystal column fading a little. "Hmm. It would seem that my internal power source is failing. It has been some time since I was last activated, there may have been an overload." Seneschal's golden-eyed gaze fixed upon them, and though his atonal voice was unable to hold a note of urgency, he yet spoke faster; "quickly, in the time that I have left, how may I assist you? It is what I was made for, after all… command me!"

Kiam wasted no time in doing so. "Open the Gate, Seneschal!"

"Certainly. Destination?"

"Sindhol!"

Seneschal looked perturbed, as the light within the column faded further. "That is a proscribed place, Kiam Sedai. Are you sure?"

"Yes! Do it!"

Seneschal closed his glowing, gold eyes, then opened them again. Immediately, the metallic rods of the pyramid structure in the centre of the chamber began to shine, a glowing nimbus swelling within. "It is done." Seneschal's voice was quieter now, his image slowly dimming as the energy within the crystal column drained away. "Might I direct your attention to the storage-chest located beside the calibration-ter'angreal to my left?" he added, "the contents may be of use, given your ill-advised choice of inter-dimensional ingress…" Seneschal had almost completely disappeared by this point, only a dim vestige of light remaining within the column.

"Goodbye, Seneschal," said the Lightborn sadly, watching as the image of the ancient Construct died.

"Farewell Tro, Apprentice Lopiang… I wish you good fortune with your venture…" Only Seneschal's head remained, floating within the crystalline column, becoming increasingly transparent, his toneless voice reduced to a mere whisper as he spoke his last words; "oh, and should you encounter Ghenjei Sedai on your travels, do please give him my best regards." The column became still. Seneschal was gone.

When the Lightborn spoke, breaking the melancholic silence, he sounded bitter. "All the old technology and knowledge is lost. Will it ever return to us?"

Kiam shrugged. "It may, Lightborn, if Elisane Tishar has anything to do with it." She turned toward the Gate. "Come. We have work to do." Kiam smiled a glittering, feral smile. "Our sort of work…"

"Wait." The Lightborn went over to the storage-chest that Seneschal had indicated and threw the lid open. "Ah…" he breathed. Curious, Kiam joined him in examining the contents of the chest. Phosphorescent firesticks. A selection of hand-blades, forged of wrought iron. And…

The Lightborn held up a long, wooden pipe with a bulbous end. He put it to his lips and blew a rising scale, fingers dancing nimbly over the stop holes lining its length. He lowered the pipe and blinked. "Interesting choice," he commented.

Kiam smirked, and chanted; "courage to strengthen, fire to blind…"

"…music to dazzle, iron to bind!" finished the Lightborn.

They exchanged a long and meaningful glance.

"Well, if we're going to do this, we'd best get on with it," the Lightborn eventually suggested, without much in the way of enthusiasm.

"Assuredly," Kiam agreed, then nodded at the chest. "Lightborn, be so good as to pass me a couple of those knives, would you?"

---

The Northern Blight – 331AB

Beyond the Mountains of Dhoom, the Blight resumed, but it appeared to be less prevalent as they travelled further east in search of the Eye of the World, with occasional patches of untainted vegetation. Kiam Lopiang took this to be a good sign. She sat her mare with the easy familiarity of a more than competent rider, letting Snowdrop step gracefully along behind Raolin's warhorse without recourse to reins. She was wondering, as she often had… what exactly had Seneschal been? No-one back at Paaran Disen, even the Lore Ajah Sisters in the Great Library of the Servants, had ever heard of such a Construct, an artificial being that could communicate with and advise its human masters. Truly, Jorlen Corbesan had been a genius, an overused term in her estimation, but one that certainly applied to him. Kiam wished that she had met the man, seen the further wonders he might have created, had he not perished in the cataclysm that opened the Bore, long before her birth.

Mierin's fault, she who later became Lanfear, Daughter of the Night. A vile woman; she should have been strangled at birth! How many lives had been destroyed because of her boundless ambition, her all-encompassing evil? The Lightborn always claimed to have met Lanfear once, in Tel'aran'rhiod. Another of his tall tales, perhaps. Perhaps not. From dwelling upon one Construct, to the recollection of another… though Sin'aethan Shadar Cor had been a biological creation containing animal genes in addition to human. And of course, there were the Nym, the fabled botanical Constructs, the pride of their mysterious makers at the Collam Avende. But the Tree College and its Masters had been destroyed in the War, as had all of the Nym. All but one, though he had been badly injured. Someshta. The Green Man. And she was going to see him… Kiam wondered if he would remember her? It had been a long time since their last meeting, after all, though the Nym did not reckon the passage of years in the same way that humans did. Something to do with being practically immortal, doubtless.

Raolin Gaidin turned in the saddle and glanced back at his Aes Sedai. Ensuring that she was still there, Kiam presumed. She smiled fondly at the young Warder and was rewarded with a rare return smile, a slight twitching of the lips, before Raolin resumed his watchful gaze on the forest around them, through which they moved cautiously.

Caraighan rode ahead of Raolin, with Baltus Gaidin leading the way. Aldor Gaidin was rearguard, riding just behind Kiam. Such precautions were necessary… since leaving the mountains they had twice been attacked; on the first occasion by a pack of what might have been dogs or wolves, but for their tentacles, and the second time by a walking tree, of all things! The monstrous arboreal creature had sought to strangle them with its whipping branches, which were lined with deadly thorns that wept poison. Caraighan had discouraged it by burning off some of its slimy bark with weaves of Fire, but even so, the tree-monstrosity had sought to pursue them, plodding slowly along their trail on its root-like feet for some distance before eventually giving up the persistent chase. Raolin had told Kiam that he had encountered one of these abominations before, whilst scouting the Blight north of Jaramide, that they subsisted on a diet of blood. Horrid!

Even so, the journey had gone easier than Kiam had anticipated, and they had encountered no actual Shadowspawn, as yet. She had overheard Aldor and Baltus suspiciously discussing the paucity of dangers, it seemed that they had never known the Blight to be so quiet. Kiam could only hope that this did not presage some sort of calm before the storm…

Abruptly, Snowdrop came to a halt because Raolin's stallion, Killer, had done likewise. The whole party had stopped for some reason. Kiam craned her neck but could not see what was going on up front. She considered using her particular and unique Talent to float upwards to a better vantage point, but decided not to. Caraighan would think that she was showing-off and besides, it tended to startle the horses when she flew. Heeling Snowdrop forward, Kiam passed Raolin, who promptly fell-in behind her, moving to the front of their small column. Caraighan gave Kiam a cold stare as she rode by… clearly, the dratted girl was still sulking about the morning's argument.

In recent days, Caraighan had become increasingly insistent regarding their quest, the end of which did not seem to be in sight. Provisions were running low, and one could hardly live off the land in the Blight. Things had come to a head as they were preparing to depart their campsite at sunrise, Kiam angrily pointing out to Caraighan that since the realm of the Green Man and the Eye of the World that it guarded never appeared in the same place twice, it was impossible to determine how long it would take to find it. If they did. Kiam allowed that she might have fanned the flames of dissention by adding a few choice epithets concerning the poor quality of the younger generation of Aes Sedai, their lamentable lack of manners and respect, and how such behaviour would not have been tolerated in her day… well, she supposed that she just did not much care for Caraighan Maconar. This was partly due to the junior Sister being from Aridhol, whose denizens had a well-deserved reputation for deceit and ruthlessness. Mainly, though, it was because Caraighan was so arrogant. But then, in all fairness, arrogance was something that Kiam Lopiang, Aes Sedai, had been accused of in her time, also. By the Lightborn, to name but one.

Putting these considerations aside, Kiam directed a sweet and somewhat goading smile at Caraighan as she trotted past, reining Snowdrop in beside Baltus, who was sitting his warhorse and staring silently at something ahead.

"What is the delay, Baltus Gaidin?" Kiam enquired.

The big Warder pointed. "Look, Kiam Aes Sedai… butterflies!"

There were indeed numerous brightly-coloured, gossamer-winged insects flitting about amongst the trees ahead… trees, Kiam noted, that looked far more verdant and healthy than any they had hitherto encountered in the Blight. Trees, furthermore, that were not chasing them, attempting to kill them and drink their blood… certainly, an improvement on the situation!

Caraighan heeled her dun mare forward also, stopping on the other side of Baltus. "Butterflies," she repeated, tonelessly.

"They're not going to attack us, are they?" Kiam wondered, only half in jest.

Raolin responded from right behind her; "no, Mistress, those are just ordinary bugs, not creatures of the Blight."

"That certainly does not look like the Blight, up ahead," Caraighan observed.

"That is because it is not the Blight," Kiam replied crisply, without troubling to look at the Green Sister, "it is the abode of Someshta. You will be pleased to hear, dear Caraighan, that we have finally reached our destination. The realm of the Green Man awaits us."

"Indeed it does, Aes Sedai!" boomed a deep voice. Part of the forest before them moved, resolving itself into a great, man-like presence that strode forward to greet them. The Green Man. Taller than an Ogier by the same magnitude that a Treebrother loomed over a human, the towering, ancient Nym was entirely composed of a combination of leaves, vines and the long grasses which constituted his hair, falling to his broad shoulders. His simple garb was fashioned of living tree-bark. Everything about him expressed the verdure of thriving nature – but for a withered wound in his head, a brown scar that marred the vivid green of his features.

"Hello Someshta," Kiam called out, slipping down from her mare and stepping forward to meet their host. The others stayed in the saddle, gaping at a figure out of myth, a legend come to life, even Caraighan, whose air of studied indifference to most things seemed to have entirely abandoned her.

"Long has it been since I heard my use-name," the Green Man commented in his basso tones, "the humans call me by a new title, now."

"Well, whatever your present nomenclature, it is good to see you again, Someshta," Kiam commented, gazing up at the giant Nym with satisfaction.

"Again? Have we met before, Aes Sedai?" The Green Man's verdant face expressed puzzlement.

"My name is Kiam Lopiang," explained Kiam, "don't you remember me?"

"Human names are so short," the Green Man observed, "they can hardly be said to be names at all…" he touched the line of dead vegetation that marked his skull, adding apologetically; "since I took the wound, there is much I do not recall…"

Kiam sighed. Someshta's injury, the massacre of the other Nym… again, Lanfear's doing. She had heard that even some of the other Forsaken had disapproved of her actions in that instance. Strangled at birth? The wicked bitch should never have been conceived in the first place!

The Green Man's expression cleared as a flash of memory came to him. "Hold! Might you be the Aes Sedai who can fly?"

Instead of answering verbally, Kiam embraced the Source and rose gracefully into the air until she could look Someshta directly in his hazel eyes. The Green Man grinned with delight.

"You are! Now I remember you!" The Nym frowned, leafy brows drawing downwards. "You look different. Your hair has changed to the colour of snow."

"Time takes its toll on humankind, even we Aes Sedai are not immune to its passage." Kiam glanced back; the others had dismounted and were approaching.

"You were a friend of Blackthorn, were you not?" the Green Man enquired.

"Blackthorn?"

"Forgive me, you would not know, that was the name I gave to my fellow Construct, the Thirdborn."

"Oh, the Lightborn… well, I suppose that we were friends… sort of… not in the early days of our association, certainly, but after a few decades had passed, we were perhaps on better terms." Even after all these years, Kiam was still not sure.

Behind Kiam, Caraighan coughed pointedly. Kiam lowered herself gracefully to the ground and made partial introductions. "Someshta, this is my Warder, Raolin, and his fellow Gaidin, the brothers Aldor and Baltus." The Warders all bowed low to the Green Man, who hesitated, then bowed awkwardly back. Kiam smiled at Caraighan, and did not speak further.

Caraighan scowled at Kiam, then addressed the Green Man; "I am Caraighan Maconar, of the Battle Ajah. It is a great honour to meet you, Ancient One."

"The honour is mine," the Green Man demurred, "it is long since I had the pleasure of a visit by an Aes Sedai… and now, two come at once!" His expression became more serious. "I believe that I know why you are here. This way…" With that, the Green Man strode away into the trees, a swarm of iridescent butterflies swirling in his wake. They had to hurry to keep up with the Nym's long strides, at least until he noticed and thoughtfully slowed his pace.

They walked in no particular hurry, leading the horses, travelling through the most beauteous woodland that Kiam had ever beheld. It made even a stedding of the Ogier look like the Aiel Waste! The arcane influence of Someshta upon his exquisite forest realm seemed all-pervasive. Along the way, the Green Man gathered delicate flowers here and there, skilfully weaving them into garlands which he presented to the two women. Kiam accepted her gift with aplomb, despite not much caring for such blooms, but to her amusement, Caraighan blushed and stammered confused words of gratitude on receiving hers. Kiam noted that while the ring of blossoms adorning Caraighan's brow was multicoloured, her own garland was made up entirely of white flowers; lilies, apple-blossom, honeysuckle, wood-anemones and of course, her mare's namesake, snowdrops.

White was not only the hue of Kiam's Ajah, but her favourite colour also. When she used to play the hopelessly inept Lightborn at tcheran, she had always selected the white pieces… did Someshta know of her preference? The last Nym and the last Lightborn had been close, had engaged in long discussions on many an occasion; had she ever been mentioned? More likely it was just coincidence… but dear old Vora had always maintained that there was no such thing as coincidence, that all events carried their own significance.

At one point, the Green Man paused beside a bent birch sapling that was growing at an odd angle. He muttered something to himself in a strange tongue, reminiscent of the convoluted speech of the Ogier. Kiam did not see exactly what he did, but when the Green Man continued on his way, the sapling was now in an upright position, from which it could grow tall and straight. A short time later, they arrived at a large glade bordered by particularly fine trees, all huge and ancient, the open space surrounding an abbreviated hill. A high, white archway was set into the side of the grassy mound, the symbol of the Aes Sedai carved into the central stone.

The Green Man halted and gestured at the dark opening. "The Eye of the World lies within." Without further comment, he turned and walked back into the forest. Kiam glanced at Raolin. He was staring at the arch, seemingly fixated.

Kiam turned to Caraighan, preparing herself to give and receive harsh words. "I thank you for your assistance in reaching Someshta's realm, Caraighan. You and your Warders are now free to return to Tar Valon."

Caraighan stared at Kiam for a moment, her grim expression incongruous in combination with the fecund, colourful garland that yet decorated her brow. "So that is it, Kiam?" she hissed, "we were just to accompany you here, ensure your safety within the Blight and now that we are no longer needed, you dismiss us like… like…"

"Servants?" Kiam prompted, "well, that is what we are, Caraighan. Servants of All. You would do well to remember that." She turned to the Gaidin twins, who were watching, open-mouthed. They knew better than to get involved in a dispute between Sisters of the White Tower, as they had also not intervened that morning, during the argument. "My thanks for your loyal service, Aldor and Baltus," Kiam stated, turning from one to the other.

The Warder brothers exchanged a nervous glance. Aldor hesitated, then muttered; "actually, Kiam Aes Sedai, I am Baltus…"

"…and I, Aldor," explained the other, whom she had thought was Baltus.

"You have been calling us by the wrong names all along," the identical Gaidin explained, simultaneously.

"My apologies," Kiam murmured.

"That is quite alright…"

"…it happens all the time."

The pair of matched Warders mounted their warhorses and waited for their Aes Sedai to do likewise. Caraighan seemed in no hurry to do so, lowering her voice so that her Gaidin would not hear her words. Raolin was not attending, his attention still on the archway in the hill.

"So you mean to stay here, Kiam?" Caraighan demanded.

"I do."

"And what of your Warder? Aldor and Baltus would not object to Raolin joining our Bond. Neither would I."

Kiam shook her head curtly. "I have thought on that, and decided against such a course. Raolin's destiny takes him down a different path, one that does not involve sword-service to you, Caraighan."

"Another Prophecy?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Caraighan sneered. "You are secretive, Kiam. You always have been. Before she left this life, Karella Aes Sedai told me that there is much about you that remains hidden."

Kiam shrugged. "Well, dear Karella always was something of an open book. She would be bound to find me a different story. You may go."

"May I?"

"You have my leave to depart this place."

Caraighan snorted contemptuously. "And people think that I am arrogant?" She turned towards her mare, paused, and turned back. "It seems that we shall not meet again in this life, Kiam, and I for one am glad of it."

Kiam did not choose to respond, but allowed Caraighan the last word. It was the least that she could do. It was not to be, however…

"You are still out here?" boomed a voice. The Green Man had remerged from the trees. "I left this place to give you privacy, for I thought that you would wish to view the Eye of the World alone…" he pointed a large, verdant finger at the arch set into the side of the hill. "Perhaps I was not specific enough? The Eye is in there…"

Kiam nodded patiently. "Yes, Someshta, we understand." She eyed Caraighan pointedly; "but we were first saying our farewells. Caraighan and her Warders are just leaving…"

Caraighan glared at Kiam, then glanced at the Green Man, her expression softening. She took the garland from her hair, hesitated a moment, then embraced the Source and wove a Keeping upon it. Taking her green-fringed shawl from her saddlebags, she carefully began to wrap the woven blossoms in it. "I shall keep this gift for as long as I live," Caraighan mumbled, without looking up at the towering Nym, "in remembrance of our meeting, Green Man." Tucking the silken parcel back into her saddlebags, Caraighan mounted and rode away without another word, her Warders hastening after her.

Kiam and Someshta watched as they vanished into the trees. "A strange girl, Caraighan," Kiam commented, "a curious mixture of practicality and sentimentality."

"All humans seem strange to me," the Green Man rumbled. He glanced down at Kiam. "Forgive me, Kiam Sedai, I meant no offence!"

"None taken, Someshta. Besides, after near eight-hundred years of existence, I do not feel particularly human anymore." Kiam's eyes were still fixed on the forest into which Caraighan and her Warders had ridden, a hint of regret in her gaze. Caraighan would have an eventful future, she expected. She would certainly be remembered long after Kiam Lopiang was forgotten. But that was as it should be. Caraighan was the future of the Sisterhood, she its past.

"I shall take my leave of you once more, Kiam Sedai," the Green Man muttered. He glanced at the hill, looking troubled. "I do not care for this place, though I was set to guard it. I have never quite understood, but my end is somehow tied to it. The Eye of the World is my duty… but also, my doom."

"Did Deindre tell you this?" Kiam asked.

"Why, yes… did you know Deindre Sedai?"

Kiam nodded. "Deindre, Solinda, Oselle and the others, young Kodam and his followers… I knew them all."

"That was a terrible day. There is much of the past that is lost to me, but I will never forget the creation of the Eye."

"What happened?" Kiam knew what had transpired, she had heard it from Elisane Tishar many years before, who had heard it from the Green Man also, but she wanted to hear Someshta's own version of events for herself.

The Green Man spoke of ancient happenings in deep, sonorous tones, that seemed to suit the tragedy of the events. "It was in the final days, when the world was first being broken… there were one-hundred of them, male and female Aes Sedai, working together, their strength combined, as it had been in the Age of Legends. They performed a mighty task, a grand working of the Power; producing a wellspring of untainted saidin for the preservation of the future… and it killed them. All of them." Someshta gazed at Kiam with great sadness. "There was not one amongst the Brothers or Sisters who did not know that the act of purifying saidin would end their lives, but they did it anyway. A noble sacrifice. Why, they were brave as Da'shain!"

Kiam did not respond. What could she possibly say to Someshta under the circumstances?

The Green Man gestured at the tall trees that lined the glade. "I interred the bodies of the Aes Sedai beneath the roots of these… I sang Tree Songs for them all."

"That was very good of you, Someshta. And it is an example of supreme faith to we of the White Tower that you have remained here to watch over the Eye of the World for such a great span of years."

The Green Man nodded firmly. "And I shall continue to do so for as long as is needed. It is not what I was made for, but Solinda Sedai asked it of me, and I could not refuse her."

"There were few that could," Kiam commented.

"I shall await you out here," the Green Man stated.

"I thank you, Someshta. There is a boon that I would ask of you presently, but I promise that it shall not be an onerous duty."

The Green Man nodded again and strode away, toward a huge, spreading oak that stood apart from the other trees. He sat beneath it, closing his hazel eyes, seeming to lose himself in an intense reverie. Kiam watched him for a moment, curious. Truly, the Nym were strange and unknowable beings. But when it came to loyalty and dedication, humans could certainly learn a thing or two from them…

With a sigh, Kiam turned away. Her true task yet awaited her, the primary reason that she had come here. Raolin, called-Darksbane. The young Warder was still staring at the archway in the hill, fascinated.

"Raolin?" He blinked, shook his head, glanced at Kiam.

"Mistress? Forgiveness, but there is something in there that calls to me…"

Kiam smiled sadly. "It is saidin, Raolin. A great lake of the purest saidin, the male half of the True Source, the One Power that turns the Wheel of Time. And it calls to you because you can channel."

---

Sindhol – 57 Post-Strike

A roaring, rushing noise, as though every cataract and mountain torrent in existence had converged to crush the senses in a cacophony of strident sound. A brighter than belief flash of light that seared the soul, as if the sun had exploded into fiery oblivion. Then, Kiam Lopiang completed her journey, stepped through to the opposite side of the Dimensional Gate. To somewhere other than the World of the Wheel, to a place that should not exist, yet did. She staggered a little on the uneven ground; a solicitous gloved hand caught her arm, steadying her. She looked up at the Lightborn, who though not tall, still loomed over her diminutive form.

"Did you hear that?" Kiam gasped, "see that?"

"Oh yes," the Lightborn answered, and grinned. "Quite something, is it not? They say it is less disconcerting if you go through one of the Doorways… I would not know, though, because I never have."

Kiam glanced over her shoulder. The shining Gate stood behind them, wreathed in a greenish, ill-smelling mist. Was it the same Gate that they had walked through back at Hob's Hill, somehow existing in two places at once? Or were there two Gates… or possibly, even more? The Gate led to other dimensions also, did it not? An infinity of worlds, possible and impossible, each with its own Gate…

The pyramid structure was yet glowing, still supporting the same nimbus of eldritch light into which they had ventured, Kiam was relieved to note. So presumably, the way back stood open. "Where is this?" Kiam asked, scanning her surroundings beyond the point of ingress. A gloomy landscape stretched out to all sides, flat and indistinct in the foggy atmosphere. Strange-looking trees were clustered about, spongy alien vegetation with fan-shaped leaves. It was quite dark, there seemed to be no sun in the colourless sky above, and no stars either, for that matter. She could not tell if it was day or night… perhaps neither state existed here?

"Sindhol," the Lightborn answered, with a shrug. He sniffed, pulled a disgusted face, then pointed. "The Halls of the Finn-Folk lie that way."

Kiam glanced in the indicated direction. It did not seem to be any different from the rest of the drab scenery, but she assumed that the Lightborn knew what he was talking about… at least, she hoped that he did. Then, the import of his words struck her. "You mean that we are outside? Without the abode of the Aelfinn and Eelfinn?"

"It is not exactly an abode, more a place where they conduct their sordid business, I believe… but yes, for want of a better word, the Gate lies beyond their immediate realm."

"Isn't that rather dangerous?"

"Define dangerous, Kiam Sedai. This is Sindhol, after all. But it was Ghenjei Sedai's idea to situate the Gate out here, so that he could come and go without being observed. That was the plan, at least. By all accounts, it didn't really work, though."

"The best laid plans of mice and men are oft to-"

"Please do not mention mice, Kiam Sedai. I don't much care for them…"

Kiam smirked. "Karella tells me that you oft have bad dreams about fearsome rodents!"

The Lightborn glared at her. "That isn't true! At least, I don't believe so… I do not really remember my dreams, to be honest…"

"That is probably just as well, Lightborn."

"Yes… well, we can stand here discussing esoteric topics a while longer, or we can go inside. Did I perhaps explain that there are things that live out here?"

"Things? What sort of things, Lightborn?"

"Things that are far worse than mice, Kiam Sedai!"

They set off, the Lightborn leading the way, Kiam hefting the satchel full of firesticks and following with alacrity. She did not really believe the Lightborn's warning about the denizens of this strange and disturbing landscape, he was doubtless attempting to alarm her… but then, on several occasions, she imagined that she caught movement in the corner of her eye, shapes skulking through the mist to either side. She tightened her grip on Vora's sa'angreal each time, but said nothing to the Lightborn about it. He did not seem to notice, just tramped through the indistinct terrain, occasionally sniffing the foetid air, sometimes adjusting their course a little, sometimes not. He seemed to know where he was going, at least, for which Kiam was glad. She suspected that without the Lightborn's services as a guide, she would have swiftly become hopelessly lost. She could not help but wonder, however…

"Lightborn, what transpired on the last occasion that you came here?"

For a moment, Kiam thought that he had not heard, or would not answer, but then the Lightborn growled; "I would rather not talk about it, Kiam Sedai."

"You are a mysterious creature, Lightborn. Enigmatic. I suspect that you shall take your multitudinous secrets with you to the grave."

"Actually, I thought I might include them in my memoirs… and would you please be quiet, Kiam Sedai? Those things that I mentioned – they hear very well!"

Kiam closed her mouth, and scowled darkly. She had never liked it when the Lightborn got the last word. And she presumed that he was being customarily flippant concerning his talk of memoirs, but if he ever did write anything even vaguely autobiographical, he had better not describe her in an unfavourable light! She was not above litigation, if need be!

An immense arrangement of dull silver, three-pointed spires loomed out of the mist ahead, a demented crag formulated in the mind of an insane architect. Kiam gasped.

"Impressive, isn't it?" the Lightborn muttered. He did not sound particularly impressed, more fatalistic.

The triple-peaked mountain grew in stature as they walked steadily toward it, seeming to rival Dragonmount in size, if not height. At its base yawned a great, rounded portal, toward which the Lightborn led Kiam. Her feet faltered a little.

"We are to go in there?" Kiam whispered.

The Lightborn glanced at her unreadably, then nodded.

They approached the mouth of the aperture cautiously. A whitish mist issued from within, though it seemed more akin to steam, and Kiam fancied that she could glimpse indistinct faces forming and reforming within the vapour, mouths gaping wide to laugh or scream… perhaps both? The air was hot and clammy, and carried a musky, animal scent. Kiam was grateful that she had not eaten anything recently, but felt her gorge rise even so.

The Lightborn stopped at the entrance, glancing around. He seemed to be waiting for something. Kiam moved to join him, a substance like damp sand crunching beneath her boots. She glanced at the Lightborn interrogatively. His demeanour seemed… expectant. Kiam opened her mouth to enquire as to their next move, but then…

"A short time."

The voice that spoke was breathy and harshly accented. It issued from the oddest-looking person that Kiam had ever beheld, even odder than the Lightborn… and like her companion, it clearly was not human. Inhuman. The speaker approached them from within the portal, wreathed in shadows so that at first, Kiam could only tell that it was very tall, moving with a sinuous gait, its elongated form wrapped in yellow cloth, feet bare. As the dim light fell on its features, Kiam noted that the face was a little too long, the body too slender. Any residual doubts about its lack of humanity were dispelled by the eyes, however; the mysterious speaker had black slits for pupils, which along with the scintillating, scaly quality of its skin and dark hair, gave it the aspect of a serpent.

"Aelfinn," Kiam whispered, wonderingly. She was not sure if the creature heard, but it glanced at her briefly, before returning its attention to the Lightborn.

"A short time…" the Aelfinn repeated in its whispery voice, "a brief span since last you were here, Stranger."

"That is true, Snake," the Lightborn agreed, levelly.

The Aelfinn frowned slightly, then looked back at Kiam. "Aes Sedai," it hissed, "you bring her to us as a gift?" There was undoubted eagerness in its tone, and Kiam shuddered slightly.

The Lightborn shook his head firmly, scowling, his pupils slitting to a narrowness almost equal to that of the Aelfinn's. "No, Kiam Sedai is certainly no gift and besides, she brought me." He squinted at the Aelfinn whilst reaching into the breast of his cadin'gai. "Are you the same one as last time?" the Lightborn asked, "I cannot tell, you Snakes all look alike to me."

The Aelfinn declined to answer, but smiled a thin smile. It did not appear to have many teeth, just two serpentine fangs in place of canines. Kiam found herself wondering if it might be poisonous? The Aelfinn's disturbing gaze remained fixed on her. Its mouth fell open as it inhaled deeply, and a writhing motion began in its narrow shoulders, continuing down the long, lean body. This unnerving regard and reaction made Kiam feel distinctly uncomfortable, not to mention nervous, and she touched one of the blades tucked through her belt.

The Aelfinn noticed and its reptilian eyes widened as it stared at the weapon. "Iron!" it snarled, then turned to the Lightborn accusingly; "implements of cold iron! You break the ancient Agreement, Stranger! Again!"

The Lightborn grinned savagely. "Wrong, Snake! We didn't come through your Doorway, so the Agreement doesn't apply!"

"You are unmannerly!" the Aelfinn spat, "have you also devices of fire? Instruments of music?"

"Yes and yes!" the Lightborn responded, pulling the wooden pipe from his coat. He raised it to his lips.

The Aelfinn hissed angrily, raising long hands to its elongated ears, but too late – the Lightborn began to play. It was an exotic melody that wound in and out of the central theme, one that Kiam had not heard before. Her knowledge of music was limited, but she thought that it might be an eastern composition. The effect on the Aelfinn was marked; the creature's hands fell to its sides, face blank, eyes half-close, and it began to sway from side to side, sinuously. The Lightborn moved the pipe back and forth as he played, mimicking the Aelfinn's movements, or perhaps controlling them. After a while, he ceased playing; the Aelfinn stopped its swaying and stood still, lengthy arms dangling limply at its sides, features slack. Its slitted pupils stared straight ahead, at nothing in particular. The Lightborn approached the Aelfinn and waved a gloved hand in front of its face, eliciting no response.

"What have you done to it?" Kiam wondered.

The Lightborn glanced at her and smiled sardonically. "Music! To them, it is a form of hypnosis. Try it with the Foxes and they tend to fall asleep, but the Snakes are different. Musical instruments make them oddly compliant." The Lightborn turned back to the dazed Aelfinn; "can you hear me, Serpent?"

"Yes, I can hear you," the Aelfinn replied breathily, voice devoid of emotion.

"I want you to take me to the Aes Sedai."

The Aelfinn promptly pointed a distended, scaly finger at Kiam. "She is there."

"Not Kiam Sedai, you reptilian idiot! The other Aes Sedai, I mean! The one you vile Snakes hold captive. Where is she?"

"She is in the Chamber of Reckonings."

"And where is that?" Kiam demanded, excitedly.

"She is ours," the Aelfinn muttered, in hollow tones, "she broke the Agreement. She asked four questions!"

"Where is the Chamber of Reckonings?" Kiam repeated, but the Aelfinn did not answer this time.

"It won't tell you," the Lightborn explained, "it can't, in fact. This bizarre place is too mutable for actual directions." He turned back to the Aelfinn. "I want you to take us to this Chamber where the Aes Sedai is imprisoned… and none of your damned tricks, or I'll make a belt out of your scaly hide!"

Kiam would never forget their subsequent journey through the labyrinthine Halls of Sindhol, though when she recalled it later, could not be sure how long it had lasted, what exact path they had taken, any of the actual details. It was all very confusing. It was, she suspected, intended to be so. But what possible design could incorporate the insane architecture that defied the comforting familiarity of the straight line, that presented the same view over and over, though through round windows occupying differing sides of the seemingly endless hallway down which they travelled? Bronze ornamentation adorned the ceilings here and there, tiles decorated with spiralling patterns were set into the floor.

Kiam's first glimpse of the triple-spires from within the hallway had been deeply disturbing… she stopped and gazed out of the window at the distinctive landmark. Her mouth fell open. The Lightborn paused also, but their suborned Aelfinn guide continued walking for a few steps, until told to stop.

"But… we're in the spires, aren't we?" Kiam whispered, "how can they be over there?"

The Lightborn shrugged, glanced at the Aelfinn, then raised the pipe and played a few more bars of the melody, to keep the creature in its trance-like state.

"They must be different spires," Kiam stated decisively.

The Lightborn shook his head. "No, the same. There is but one set of spires."

"And we are in them?"

"Um… yes and no."

"You shall have to do better than that, Lightborn!"

"How can I explain something that I do not fully understand myself, Kiam Sedai? Ask Uncle Gwili, if we ever see him again. He knows more about this place than anyone alive. Only Ghenjei Sedai knew more." Kiam scowled, opened her mouth to argue further, but was forestalled…

"Ghenjei," the Aelfinn muttered, breathy voice slurred as though half-asleep, "I recall the Aes Sedai, Ghenjei… we foretold his death, and other events besides, but he refused to accept the truth of fate… the inescapability of destiny… we fed well on his disappointment, his regret… and the Eelfinn gifted him thrice, as is their wont, then took his sight in recompense."

Kiam shivered. The Lightborn reacted angrily; "shut-up, you! Keep your nasty anecdotes to yourself! Take us to this Chamber of Reckonings… lead us there right now!"

After a moment, their Aelfinn guide shuffled forward, down the endless curving corridor, Kiam and the Lightborn following cautiously. Eventually, the tedium of the curving hallway with its round windows was broken by the appearance of an oval portal set in the wall ahead. They approached carefully. The Aelfinn stayed where it was, swaying slightly. A strange noise was coming from the chamber; a soft, hissing susurration. Kiam glanced back to ask the Aelfinn what it was, but the creature was gone. She tugged on the Lightborn's arm and pointed wordlessly, to indicate that their guide had abruptly vanished; he merely shrugged in response.

"They do that," the Lightborn whispered, "come and go at will. Disquieting, is it not?" He grinned. Kiam scowled.

Warily, they crept up to the wide portal, peering around the edge to look into what was presumably the Chamber of Reckonings. Kiam stared. A dozen Aelfinn sat cross-legged on a crimson and cream tiled floor in a large, domed room. They were arranged in a circle; tall, lean forms wrapped in red cloth. With a start, Kiam realised that some of them were female, their elongated features more delicately formed than those of the males. Her attention was largely focused on something else, though.

Elisane Tishar, Aes Sedai, floated above the tiles in the centre of the circle of Aelfinn. She was wreathed in steaming white mist, unclothed, her long blonde locks haloed about her head. Her fine face held an expression of profound dismay, her eyes tightly closed. A trail of tears marred her cheeks and she trembled convulsively, as though in the grip of a fever. The Aelfinn stared up at her with their slitted pupils, fixated upon their prey, making soft hissing sounds of what could only be enjoyment.

"Poor Elisane!" Kiam whispered, "what in the Wheel are they doing to her?"

The Lightborn scowled, his own pupils as slitted as those of the Aelfinn. "Filthy Snakes!" he growled softly, "this is what they do for pleasure! They are making her relive terrible experiences, and feasting upon the resulting sensations…"

"We must save her!" Kiam urged, "quick, play your pipe…"

The Lightborn reached into his coat once more, then blinked, looking puzzled. "It was there a moment ago," he muttered.

"Are you looking for this, Stranger?" hissed a breathy voice from behind them. They whirled around. A score of Aelfinn clad in yellow cloth filled the hallway. They were smiling, their serpent-teeth flashing. They gripped curved, bronze swords; all but the one who had spoken. It waved the wooden pipe that it held tauntingly, then broke the instrument in half across its bony knee, dropping the pieces to the tiles. "Did you think it would be so easy?" the Aelfinn enquired.

Kiam and the Lightborn glanced at each other, she with consternation, he with a distinct coldness that she had come to recognise in him, prior to acts of extreme violence. He was angry.

"No," answered the Lightborn softly, taking a stalking step toward the Aelfinn, "not particularly easy…" A blur of movement and the lead Aelfinn howled, clutching at its thin face. An iron-bladed knife was embedded in the ruins of the left eye. Dark, inhuman blood spurted from the wound, promptly turning to a substance akin to pale smoke. "Though not so difficult either," the Lightborn added, tearing off his gloves and unsheathing his black, razor-sharp claws. "Firesticks!" he shouted at Kiam, then leapt upon the Aelfinn.

Kiam automatically reached into the satchel slung over her shoulder, fingers closing around the smooth length of a phosphor tube, but her eyes remained fixed on the ensuing mayhem. The Aelfinn moved with sinuous grace and plied their bronze blades skilfully, with serpentine speed, but against the Lightborn they stood little chance. They might be otherworldly beings with arcane powers, but he was a War Construct, his genesis the product of a brilliant if deranged mind, the creation of an Age where the impossible had been made reality. And he had been born for battle.

Kiam watched as the Lightborn tore the Aelfinn apart, avoiding their attacks with contemptuous ease, his clawed hands moving almost too fast to see. Again, a smoking substance rose from the great amount of gore being shed, seeming to contain more of the strange faces she had glimpsed earlier. The wounds inflicted were real enough, and incapacitated the hapless Aelfinn as well as the iron knife had. Kiam turned away from the carnage. The red-garbed Aelfinn within the Chamber had ceased their odious meal at the expense of Elisane, and had risen from their circle. They approached Kiam in a loose group, stepping sinuously, unhurried. She steeled herself, and walked into the Chamber of Reckonings to meet them.

"You disturb our repast," hissed one, a tall, male Aelfinn.

"You do not abide by the ancient Agreement!" accused a female Aelfinn.

"Indeed I do not," responded Kiam, raising the metallic length of the firestick.

"What is that?" demanded another Aelfinn.

"You shall see!" Kiam promised. Remembering to shield her eyes from the light, Kiam depressed the switch set into the handle. The firestick ignited, a fierce phosphorescent flame blazing from the tip. The Aelfinn confronting her hissed with dismay, lifting long hands to cover their slitted pupils and backing away from the terrible white light. Brandishing the firestick threateningly, Kiam advanced on them; the Aelfinn fell back. "Elisane!" Kiam shouted.

Elisane Tishar's eyes snapped open, blue orbs blurred with unshed tears that focused blearily on Kiam. "Is that you, Kiam?" she mumbled, her voice slurred.

"Yes, of course! Who else?"

Elisane shook her head, gradually regaining her faculties, moving her limbs weakly, but yet remained hanging within the white mist. "Free me!" she implored.

One of the Aelfinn lunged toward Kiam, attempting to pluck the firestick from her hand, but she shoved the flaming tube into its face; it howled with anguish and retreated. "Back!" Kiam screamed, attempting to force the Aelfinn away from their captive prize. With her free hand, she yanked Vora's sa'angreal from her belt, levelling it at the Aelfinn.

"Don't channel!" Elisane shrieked, "I tried it and they just drained the saidar… it only served to make them stronger!"

"Tsag!" Kiam cursed. Abruptly, the firestick fizzled out, the flame at the end sputtering and dying. Kiam swiftly reached for another, but with reptilian speed a female Aelfinn leapt forward and tore the satchel from her shoulder. Kiam plucked an iron blade from its sheath and slashed at her enemy, but the Aelfinn was too swift for her, falling back to the others with its spoils, an expression of cruel triumph on that inhuman face. The other Aelfinn smiled also, advancing on Kiam threateningly.

"We had one Aes Sedai," a male Aelfinn observed in his sinister voice.

"Now we have two!" added a female Aelfinn with evident satisfaction.

"So you can count… how clever of you!" Kiam snarled, waving the knife warningly at the approaching Aelfinn. If the creatures were impressed by her bravado, they gave no sign.

"Drop the hateful iron weapon," suggested the tallest Aelfinn, something compelling in its serpent's gaze, "you have no need for it, we shall not harm you."

"We only wish to feed," hissed the female Aelfinn whose skill at numeracy Kiam had derided, slipping ahead of the others.

"Feed on this, Serpent!" Kiam shouted, dashing forward and stabbing the Aelfinn in the breast. The creature screamed, falling to the tiles, thrashing. Unfortunately, it took the blade with it, lodged in the wound, blood gushing forth to transmute into more of the pale smoke. Kiam reached for another knife but it was too late, the rest of the Aelfinn fell upon her and she was borne to the floor by a multitude of long, sinewy limbs that held unnatural strength. Her vision was filled with malevolent, elongated faces, slitted pupils staring, sharp incisors bared; so Kiam shut her eyes and ceased her impotent struggles. Too bad it had to end like this. She wondered vaguely what ill recollections her captors would provoke in her, so that they might satiate themselves with sensation? She had a head full of bad memories, after all, mostly from the War…

Then, Kiam heard Elisane cry out, a note of surprise in her voice; "N'aethan! You are here also?"

"That I am, Elisane Sedai," the Lightborn replied.

"Quickly, help Kiam – she is over there, under all of those Aelfinn…"

"Yes, I can see her legs sticking out. One moment…"

Kiam kept her eyes shut for the next part. Wet, slicing sounds punctuated by harsh screeches, mostly, though the crunching of breaking bones featured a fair bit as well. When it was all over, Kiam opened her eyes and accepted the clawed hand offered to her as the Lightborn helped her to her feet. She tried to ignore the torn and broken corpses that littered the tiles all around, with little success.

"It is almost as much fun as slaying Shadowfilth!" the Lightborn reported, cheerfully, "though a deal less satisfying…"

"I thank you for your assistance, Lightborn," Kiam murmured.

"Pray do not mention it, Kiam Sedai."

"But how were you able to harm the Snakes with your claws? They are not made of iron… are they?"

"In a way, they are… the claws leach off the iron in my blood, part of Father's Design, so that-"

"Excuse me?" They turned. Elisane Tishar was regarding them with the level, blue-eyed gaze that she was noted for, a regard that managed to be commanding and compassionate at the same time. Kiam had always wondered how she did that, it was something of a mystery amongst the Sisterhood. "Sorry to interrupt, but if it is not too much trouble, would you two mind freeing me?" Elisane continued, sweetly; "I can only assume that this is why you are here?"

The Lightborn blushed and hurried over to the captive, floating Aes Sedai. "Of course, Elisane Sedai, please excuse the delay…" He extended an experimental hand toward the white mist in which the helpless Elisane hung suspended, then jerked it back hastily. "Ouch! It is hot!"

Kiam joined him, embraced the Source and rose to float opposite Elisane. "Patience, Elly, I'm going to try something," she muttered.

"I can be patient," Elisane responded, agreeably. Indeed, she was known for it. She folded her hands before her and waited calmly. Kiam could not help but admire her old friend and occasional pillow-companion. Even hanging naked in an inhuman larder within burning mist, she had regained her composure with ease!

Concentrating, Kiam extended webs of Air and Spirit around Elisane and with a wrench, drew her forth from captivity. Elisane slid into her arms and, holding her friend in a close embrace, Kiam lowered them both to the floor. Elisane clung to her, there seemingly being little strength in her legs, and kissed Kiam exuberantly.

"Thank you, Kiki," Elisane whispered, then glanced over her shoulder at the Lightborn, who was watching approvingly. "It is good to see you, N'aethan," she stated softly, "especially since we parted on such bad terms… I am sorry I threw the dish at you."

The Lightborn grinned. "It was a bowl, not a dish, Elisane Sedai, and it is quite alright… you missed by a mile!"

Elisane smiled back at the Lightborn. "You were a swiftly moving target, I recall…"

"Hadn't we better get out of here before more Aelfinn show up?" Kiam reminded them both frostily.

"Yes, certainly," Elisane agreed, still leaning on Kiam, then eyed the Lightborn again, fondly. "N'aethan, do you think that you could find me some clothes? I am not sure what the Snakes did with mine. And not those rags the Aelfinn dress in, if you please, I don't think I could bear to wear something of theirs."

"Of course, Elisane Sedai." The Lightborn glanced around fruitlessly, thought about it, then unbuckled his shattercloth coat and took it off. The shimmering blue tattoo on his bare chest scintillated in the low light. He passed the coat to Elisane and she promptly slipped into it, fastening it up. It came down to mid-thigh, providing her with some semblance of modesty.

"My thanks, N'aethan," Elisane murmured, "I shall return your cadin'gai when I find something more appropriate to wear…"

The Lightborn nodded. Kiam noted that he had not taken the opportunity to direct a salacious gaze at Elisane's undeniably attractive nudity, but then the two of them had doubtless seen more than enough of each other in the past… and judging by Elisane's approving glances at the Lightborn's impressive physique, in the future also!

"Can you walk, Elisane?" Kiam enquired.

Elisane Tishar released her hold on Kiam, taking an experimental step, but her legs gave way and she began to fall. The Lightborn was at her side in an instant, catching and supporting her. "I think not," Elisane mumbled.

"I will carry you, Elisane Sedai," offered the Lightborn, scooping the debilitated Aes Sedai into his powerful arms. Elisane smiled up at him gratefully.

Kiam sighed ruefully. It had been her idea to rescue Elisane… well, prompted by Deindre, at least… but as usual, the damned Lightborn was the Hero of the hour while she was relegated to… what? The bearer of the firesticks? That reminded her… the purloined satchel lay a few yards away, the cold hand of a dismembered Aelfinn still gripping the strap. Kiam went to retrieve it, raising her fancloth skirts so that they would not brush against the corpses that she had to step over. She lifted the satchel full of firesticks, slinging it back over her shoulder. They might well need them again… she turned in time to see the Lightborn pacing toward the oval egress from the Chamber of Reckonings, his precious burden cradled carefully in his arms.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Kiam hurried after them. The hallway outside was now devoid of Aelfinn bodies, though a few discarded bronze swords yet lay about.

"That's strange," the Lightborn commented, noting the absence of his victim's remains.

Kiam glanced back into the Chamber that they had just left. The Aelfinn corpses strewn upon the floor inside had vanished also. "That's stranger," she muttered.

"I don't think we can go back to the Gate," the Lightborn mused, "the Snakes know we came in via there, they'll almost certainly be waiting for us…"

"Do you know another way out of here, Lightborn?" Kiam demanded, once she had assimilated this unwelcome information.

The Lightborn shook his head. "I don't… but I think that Elisane Sedai does."

"I do?" Elisane responded weakly.

"You are Ta'veren, Aes Sedai!" the Lightborn enthused, "the Pattern will aid you in this – choose a direction and we shall take it."

Kiam nodded thoughtfully. "The Lightborn may have something there," she mused, "you've always been unnaturally fortunate, Elisane… assuming that you are Ta'veren, the Creator won't let you die in this vile place."

"Nor us either, one would hope," the Lightborn added, fervently.

Kiam sneered at him. "Self-preservation, Lightborn? How commendable!"

"Duty, Kiam Sedai," the Lightborn growled, "you have delayed me overlong and I must return to Latra Sedai, that I might resume my role as her protector!"

"Yes, I am sure that your mummy misses you!"

"Bajad drovja! She is not my-"

"Stop sniping at each other, you two!" Elisane chided, "honestly, the pair of you never change!" She lay back in the Lightborn's arms and closed her eyes wearily. "Alright… I don't believe that I am Ta'veren, whatever you may think, but under the circumstances, I am prepared to give it a try… it can't hurt… turn right!"

Through the labyrinthine halls they travelled for what seemed an interminable span of distance, losing all track of time in the process. At each junction and meeting of corridors, Elisane would choose the path which Kiam and the Lightborn then faithfully followed. They did not encounter any Aelfinn or worse, Eelfinn, though on many an occasion Kiam thought that she saw swift movement behind them, and she felt hostile eyes on her all the way. After a while, she noticed that the tiles beneath their weary feet had changed, though she was not sure when this had happened. Instead of the spiralling patterns, they now displayed arrangements of triangles.

"That may be a good sign," the Lightborn commented, when Kiam drew his attention to this.

And then, they finally came to a broad, curvilinear portal leading into a circular, domed chamber, empty but for the artefact at its centre; a twisted, redstone Doorway, made up of oddly joined angles, three downward pointing triangles etched into each of the uprights. Kiam and the Lightborn regarded the ancient ter'angreal with relief.

"You did it, Elisane Sedai!" the Lightborn congratulated the Aes Sedai.

"I did?" Elisane responded drowsily, "perhaps I am Ta'veren after all..?"

"Assuredly, you must be!"

Elisane did not reply. She had fallen into an exhausted slumber.

Kiam started toward the Doorway eagerly, but the Lightborn stopped her, staring at the triangles that decorated the artefact. "Hold! This isn't the Aelfinn Doorway… tis the Eelfinn Doorway!"

"Correct," growled a harsh voice from behind them. Kiam and the Lightborn whirled round. A slim figure stood in the mouth of the portal, watching them with large, pale eyes. For an instant, Kiam thought it was yet another Aelfinn, it was certainly proportioned like one, but its skin was pure white, not scaly, and it had reddish hair in a long crest that fell down its back. It was a female, clad in white skirts and a pale blouse that appeared to be made out of some sort of thin leather. Kiam tried not to dwell on just what sort of skin had been used to make the garment.

"Ware Fox!" shouted the Lightborn, about to attack, until he abruptly recalled that he was cradling a comatose Aes Sedai. He hesitated.

The inhuman creature smiled, revealing teeth that were too sharp, not unlike the Lightborn's, Kiam considered. In fact, its ears were also similar to his, ending in abbreviated points, lying flat against its skull… though without the hairy tufts at the end.

"Are you an Eelfinn?" Kiam demanded, reaching into the satchel and clutching the comforting length of a firestick.

"Yes," answered the Eelfinn in its bestial tones, "I am of the near ancient, a knower of many secrets… and you are human, an Aes Sedai… but what is he?" It pointed a clawed finger at the Lightborn, who seemed to be debating whether to place Elisane on the floor, or pass her to Kiam. In the end, he did neither, opting for glaring at the Eelfinn dangerously.

"Never you mind what I am, chicken-thief!" the Lightborn snarled, "try to prevent us from escaping and you'll regret it, though but briefly!"

At which, another voice hissed; "you are a fool!" Kiam blinked. Now, a tall Aelfinn stood beside the Eelfinn, a male this time, wrapped in red cloth, his disturbing slitted eyes fixed on them. The two did not acknowledge one another, did not so much as glance in each other's direction, their attention fixed on the intruders. Kiam examined them closely, getting a strange impression that this pair of parasitic, unknowable creatures were somehow one and the same, two opposing sides of an identical, evil coin…

"You do not abide by the ancient Treaties," the Aelfinn continued.

"You threaten us in our own Realm," the Eelfinn added, "foolish!"

Kiam pulled a firestick from the satchel, waving it warningly. The Finn-folk both winced slightly, raising their hands in an oddly placatory gesture.

"Peace, Aes Sedai!" growled the female Eelfinn, "there is no need for the terrible flames that you bear!"

"We're leaving!" the Lightborn shouted, "don't try to stop us or snake-meat and fox-flesh are going to be on the menu!"

The Finn-folk looked pained. "We have no intention of stopping you, fell Stranger," the male Aelfinn protested.

"We wish for you to leave, in fact!" the female Eelfinn went on.

The Lightborn blinked. "You do?"

"Yes," hissed the Aelfinn, "you are too savage for us, too disruptive." It frowned. "You are unlike any who have come here before. You are not human… tell us, what are you?"

"None of your damned business!" the Lightborn answered, rather rudely.

The Aelfinn shook its head, looking troubled. "It disturbs us that we cannot see your fate, Stranger. It is as though you do not exist…"

"Of course I exist!" the Lightborn insisted, "though I have my doubts about you, Snake!" He paused, squinting at the Aelfinn curiously. "Hold a moment… you look familiar… didn't I kill you?"

The male Aelfinn smiled enigmatically, baring its pointed incisors slightly. "You cannot kill that which does not live," it hissed, then turned and walked sinuously away.

The female Eelfinn began to leave in the opposite direction, with a lithe, stalking gait, then paused, staring back at the Lightborn with the pale eyes that dominated its narrow features. "One final thing, Stranger," it declared in its harsh tones, "the one you call 'Father,' he who made you… this Aes Sedai took something from us, a time ago. We want it back." The Eelfinn smiled nastily, red lips spreading, baring its sharp teeth. "We shall have it back!" Then, the Eelfinn turned and prowled away. They were left standing alone beside the redstone Doorway.

In the silence that followed, Kiam and the Lightborn looked at each other. "Well… that was unexpected," the Lightborn muttered.

Kiam frowned, tugging at the Lightborn's arm impatiently. "Let's go!"

The Lightborn nodded. He glanced down at Elisane, and smiled tenderly. They moved toward the Doorway of the Eelfinn in step, the sleeping form of the Aes Sedai they had rescued held carefully in the Lightborn's arms. "Kiam Sedai?"

"Yes, Lightborn?"

"You said that in return for my aid with your quest, you would tell me why you hate Father so much."

"Yes, I did, didn't I…" Kiam murmured, not looking at the Lightborn.

"Well, then… why do you hate Father?"

Kiam paused before the Doorway that would take them back to the World of the Wheel and sighed. She glanced up at the Lightborn, who was watching her intently with his strange, cobalt eyes. She spoke softly; "Lopiang is the House-name of my mother's family… my true suffix is Kufer."

The Lightborn's feral eyes widened. "So Chaime Kufer is..?"

"My paternal grandfather. The only living relative left to me is the notorious Defector, he who was sanctioned by the Hall of Servants for giving his allegiance to the Shadow. He who conducted forbidden experiments under the patronage of the Dragon, bringing the reputation of an ancient and noble line into disrepute. That is why I hate him so." Kiam scowled up at him. "Satisfied, Lightborn?"

The Lightborn thought about it, then shrugged, and nodded at the Doorway. "Come on, Kiam Sedai. Let's go home."

---

The Eye of the World – 331AB

Kiam Lopiang, Aes Sedai, stood at the very edge of the Eye of the World, remembering the escape from Sindhol. After a timeless interval and a wave of sound that, as the Lightborn had surmised, was less severe than that of the Gate, they had stepped through the Doorway of the Eelfinn into a dusty vault deep beneath the Grand Hall of Servants in Paaran Disen. A great many stockpiled ter'angreal were stacked haphazardly against the stone walls. Oselle Sedai had been there too, attended by a couple of her Da'shain, all staring at them with a great deal of shock and surprise as they emerged from the redstone Doorway.

The Lightborn had scowled at Oselle, naturally, she being one of the senior Aes Sedai who had called for his destruction as a boy, not to mention the execution of his 'Father.' Not his Father, of course… Kiam's Grandfather. But even now, it still gave Kiam pleasure to recall the look on Oselle's face as they made their unexpected appearance. It was probably the only time in her long life that the verbose old Aes Sedai had been lost for words.

Kiam sighed… Oselle… whose bones lay buried beneath an ancient tree, up above. Along with the mortal remains of many other old friends and allies from the War. Well, she would join them soon, and finally be at peace.

"One cannot escape fate," Kiam whispered.

Raolin heard, and looked away from the immense pool of liquid saidin that had held his rapt attention for the last hour. He had not spoken once, as they made their way along the sloping passage with its ethereal, glowing walls, down to the huge cavern roofed with shining crystals, far beneath the earth; the place that contained the Eye of the World. His dark eyes held a level of guilt and hopelessness that Kiam had never seen in him before. Caraighan was entirely correct in saying that Kiam held secrets… and she had kept Raolin's secret very well. It had been entirely necessary.

"I wanted to tell you, Mistress…" Raolin confessed quietly, "many times. I knew that I could not hide what I was, that which I had become, but…" his voice trailed-off, his eyes returning to the enormous pool of saidin. Pure. Untainted.

Kiam could not believe the sheer size of the Eye, the untold power that it represented. Why had they created it? What was it for?

"When did it begin for you, Raolin?" Kiam asked softly. She knew that he could not have been channeling for long, if at all... her young Warder showed no signs of madness. She was all-too familiar with the mark of the Dark One's Taint upon a man.

Raolin answered without looking away from the Eye of the World, his words delivered even more tonelessly than usual; "it started about six months ago, I am not sure exactly when. I began to have strange dreams about happenings that would oftentimes occur later, to see visions of distant events that had not yet come to pass…"

"What sort of events?"

Raolin glanced at Kiam, a bitter smile curving his lips. "Tarmon Gai'don."

"Oh."

"And then, there were the... incidents. I was alone in the armoury one day, looking at a sword that I admired… and it flew across the room, right into my hand. I did not realise what was happening at first, did not know that I was channeling… but then, I overheard some Red Sisters discussing the early evidence that they looked for in men who touched the True Source. Then, I knew." Raolin shrugged, dismissively. "Knew that I was doomed." His voice became angry, a rarity for the usually self-controlled young man; "all I ever wanted was to be Gaidin, to serve the White Tower and my Aes Sedai, to fight the Shadow!" His calm returned with equal rapidity. "And now… now it seems that I am something worse than the Shadow."

This was easily the most Kiam had ever heard her taciturn Warder say at one time. She shook her head firmly. "Believe me, with the possible exception of the Aelfinn and the Eelfinn, there is absolutely nothing worse than the Shadow."

Raolin did not seem to have heard Kiam's measured words, he eyed her with vague accusation. "Why did you bring me here, Mistress? Why did you not just hand me over to the Red Ajah to be gentled, rendered harmless?"

Kiam scowled. "I despise the Reds, Raolin! Always have. They barely possess the right to call themselves Aes Sedai, in my opinion, and my opinion is the only opinion that has ever mattered to me!" She approached Raolin, the narrow path about the Eye making it a matter of a single step. She gazed up into his dark eyes, significance in her words; "and besides, it would be unwise to sever you from the True Source, Raolin."

"Why?" Raolin demanded.

"Because there is a very good chance that you might be the Dragon Reborn!"

Raolin stared at Kiam for a long moment, then laughed harshly. Kiam did not believe that she had ever heard her young Warder express mirth before. "This is madness!" Raolin growled, "forgive me, but you are mad, Mistress! And I thought that I was supposed to be the one who was insane!"

"Where were you born, Raolin?" Kiam asked quietly.

Raolin hesitated, then answered reluctantly; "in a shepherd's hut, Mistress."

Kiam nodded. "Indeed. In a rude hovel, set upon the slopes of Dragonmount. Your parents were travelling merchants from Aren Mador, journeying to Tar Valon for a trade fair. They fully intended for you to be born in the Island City, but your mother went into labour unexpectedly early. The hut was the nearest convenient shelter for her to give birth in. And so, you came forth into the world in the very place that Lews Therin Telamon left it, as certain forbidden Prophecies suggest will come to pass."

Raolin's eyes widened. "How do you know this?" he gasped, "apart from myself, they never told anyone!"

Kiam smiled patiently. "Wise of your parents. No-one wants their son's nativity associated with that place, after all. But I have my ways and means. I looked into your dreams, my boy. Intrusive of me, I know, but there it is. For what little it is worth, I apologise. Tell me, is the Last Battle coming?"

"I… I do not know, Mistress. It is in the future, of a certainty, but how far into the future, I cannot say."

"Mmm. Kazandra told me much the same."

"The young Accepted? Your protégé?"

"Indeed. She Foretells fairly accurately, as do you I think, though not near so precisely as dear Deindre could. But well enough to suit my purposes."

"And what are your purposes, Mistress?"

"To see you safe and powerful, so that should Tarmon Gai'don come in your lifetime, you will be able to fulfil your destiny, your function within the Pattern. To defeat the Dark One and his Forsaken. To preserve humanity from annihilation."

"And what if you are wrong, Mistress? What if I am not the Dragon Reborn? Irregardless of my birthplace, what if I am just another Tainted madman, cursed to lose my mind and destroy all that I love and hold dear?"

Kiam smiled crookedly. "Well… then at least you will have earned a place in the history books."

Raolin blinked… but then his lips twitched slightly. "It has taken three long years, but I think I am finally beginning to appreciate your odd sense of humour, Mistress," he muttered, adding; "you know, there really is no-one quite like you…"

"I am aware of that." Kiam patted Raolin soothingly on the shoulder. "Come, Gaidin, let us leave this place. I have something for you…"

Up above, the air was fresh and a welcome breeze dissipated the residual staleness of the cavern that held the Eye of the World. Kiam paced over to Snowdrop, Raolin following, and pulled a thick tube of white silk from one of the saddlebags. She unrolled it, displaying it to Raolin. It was a long banner, depicting a shining, sixteen-pointed star, dark shadows receding from it along the edges.

"I had this made for you," Kiam explained. "It is the banner of Raolin Darksbane, the Dragon Reborn. Under this sign, will you conquer."

Raolin took the banner wordlessly, held it up, examining the stellar sigil. "I oftentimes dream of this star," he muttered.

Kiam nodded. "I am sure that you do. Let your dreams guide you in all things, Raolin. They are your salvation."

Raolin lowered the banner, met Kiam's eyes and inclined his head in assent. "I will, Mistress."

"Incidentally, the design is based on the one emblazoned upon the Lightborn's Shield-ter'angreal. I thought it fitting."

"Who is this Lightborn, Mistress? I have heard you occasionally mention him, but did not think it my place to enquire..."

"A Hero of the Light. You might know him better as Sin'aethan Shadar Cor."

Raolin evinced surprise. "He was real? I thought him but a myth!"

"Oh, because of me, he is both! I used to tell the Da'shain children stories of his adventures, suitably edited, naturally. His tales will live on long after you and I are dead and dust, I am sure of it." Kiam embraced the Source, felt the sweetness of saidar flow into her. "Be so good as to kneel, Raolin."

The young Warder obeyed without hesitation, so deeply ingrained was his loyalty to his Aes Sedai, in spite of recent events and revelations. Kiam touched his brow, inverting a complex web of Spirit. It was over in moments and Raolin rose, registering confusion.

"I cannot sense you anymore, Mistress…"

"That is as it should be. I have dispelled the Bond between us. I release you from my service. We must go our separate ways now, you are no longer my Warder." Kiam smirked. "Which means that you do not have to call me 'Mistress' anymore!"

"But Mistress…"

"Oh, have it your own way!"

"But Kiam Sedai… what am I to do?"

Raolin looked stricken, the first such expression Kiam had ever seen him evince. Well, it was rather a lot for the young man to take in… but at least the hopelessness had vanished. He had purpose now.

"Many things, Raolin. But firstly, you must travel south, to Mafal Dadaranell."

"I must? Why there?"

"You now have a banner, Raolin. You shall need a Bannerman to bear it for you. In the city, you are fated to meet a soldier by the name of 'Tarwin.' He will be your first follower, though by no means your last. Men and women of all nations will flock to your standard. To wage war on the Shadow, you shall need an army."

Raolin nodded. "I suppose I shall, at that." He looked quizzical. "How do you know all this, Kiam Sedai?"

"I know nothing. Young Kazandra Foretold it. She told me. I am telling you. That is all." Before leaving the Tower for the last time, Kiam had said her goodbyes to her young protégé, and given the girl her old soldier's angreal as a farewell gift. Kazandra had proved time and again that she could keep a secret as well as her mentor… she would do well when Raised to Aes Sedai, and would one day lead the White Ajah, Kiam hoped. But not become Amyrlin, that would be a waste of her talents.

Kiam stepped forward and formally embraced Raolin, feeling him tense with surprise, for she was not given to acts of affection, particularly where men were concerned. But after a moment, he hugged her tentatively in response. Kiam broke the contact first, moving back to gaze up at the young man who had defended her life from danger on numerous occasions. "I shall miss you, Raolin," she stated sadly, "you have been an excellent Gaidin in every regard."

"I shall miss you also, Kiam Aes Sedai. It has been a great honour to serve you, a true Heroine of the Light…" Raolin hesitated, then asked; "may I please have your garland, as a keepsake?"

Flushing, Kiam realised that she still had the ring of woven flowers perched atop her head… she must look absurd! She removed it, then emulating Caraighan, embraced the Source and wove a Keeping on it, to preserved the blooms for all time. She gave the white garland to Raolin, who tucked it reverently into his coat pocket. He considered a moment, then removed his fancloth cloak, passing it to Kiam.

"I no more have the right to wear it, I suppose," Raolin commented.

"Wear your honour and your pride in stead," Kiam suggested.

Raolin smiled sadly and bowed a final time to his former Mistress.

"I hope that fate treats you kindly, Darksbane."

Raolin shrugged, began to slowly roll up the silken banner. "Well, even if it does not, I cannot complain. I have been a Warder of the White Tower for three years…" Raolin stuffed the banner into his saddlebag and vaulted up onto his warhorse, smiling down at Kiam for one last time; "…I would trade a lifetime as a merchant for that!"

Kiam watched sadly as Raolin-called-Darksbane galloped away, taking a different route than the one Caraighan and her Warders had followed. This was wise, it would be well for him avoid that particular Aes Sedai… Snowdrop whinnied, and Kiam patted the graceful mare's neck, taking comfort in her presence.

"Your Gaidin leaves without you?" enquired a deep voice from right behind Kiam. She jumped and turned to glare up at the Green Man.

"I must say, for such a large… person… you move extremely quietly, Someshta!" Kiam snapped.

"Thank you!" replied the Green Man, mistaking her words for a compliment.

Kiam looked back at the forest, but Raolin Darksbane was gone. "He has his destiny and I have mine," she murmured. That reminded her… Kiam opened her mouth to make a request, but the Green Man pre-empted her.

"You mentioned a boon, Kiam Sedai?" he rumbled, "a task which I might perform for you?"

"Indeed, Someshta. It is simply this; should you see the Lightborn again, and I rather think that you will, kindly inform him that there is a message from me awaiting him in the White Tower." Kiam smiled as she thought of the special missive that she had prepared before leaving Tar Valon for the final time; the secrets revealed and the impossibility of the Lightborn ever being able to answer it… how she loved to have the last word!

The Green Man inclined his large and leafy head gravely. "It shall be as you say, Aes Sedai. I shall certainly inform Blackthorn, should I encounter him."

"My thanks, Someshta. I knew that I could rely on you."

"Where will you go now, Kiam Sedai?"

"Nowhere, actually. With your permission, good Someshta, I should like to abide in your realm awhile."

"But of course! I would be honoured to have you as my guest, Aes Sedai. Will you be staying long?"

"No. Not long." Kiam had seven Talents, more than most, even in her day let alone now, when such abilities were becoming rarer. Her favourite and most useful Talent was, of course, Flight. Her least favourite and least useful Talent had always been Foreknowledge, a rather morbid ability to detect the proximity of her own death. Kiam therefore knew with the certainty of fate itself that she had but days left, a week at most. And she could think of nowhere she would rather spend that remaining time than here, in the peaceful abode of the Green Man. Kiam had no regrets, her final task had been carried out and whether Raolin Darksbane proved to be the Dragon Reborn or a mere pawn of the Pattern, she knew that she had done the right thing in protecting his secret, preserving his existence, sending him to meet his destiny. Kiam doubted whether the Hall of Sitters would agree, let alone the Amyrlin Seat… but then, they would never know. With the possible exception of the Lightborn, all of her old friends and lovers were long dead, and Kiam felt that it was high time she joined them. And with a few notable exceptions, she would take her secrets with her to the grave. Talking of which…

"Someshta," Kiam murmured, pointing a serpent-ringed finger at the huge tree beneath which he had earlier sat, "that large oak over there…"

"My favourite tree!" declared the Green Man, "what of it?"

Kiam's lips curved in a melancholy smile but when she spoke, there was no sadness or self-pity in her voice, just the habitual confidence of a long, long lifetime. "My time is short, Someshta. That oak… when my soul has departed my body, please be so good as to bury me beneath it."