A/N: joe-ashaman – Thanks for the praise. I agree that the hatred for Lews Therin didn't come across very well in Demandred's chapter, but that's just because of how I think of him and Sammael – while Dem hates him more, he has more of a quiet, seething rage that builds and lets him plan, while Sammael's temper is more explosive. At least, I think so. Book 11 is indeed freaking awesome, but that's another fic for another time.

Cat Alex – 'gotten' is one of the coolest words in the English language. Nothing you can say or do will change that.

SmurfKiller – Valid point, but I disagree. Recall that Lews Therin really is almost identical to Rand in every way except three thousand years in the past. This also means that (like Rand) RJ is hopelessly in love with him and makes sure that everyone else is bitter and jealous of him. And also that Lews Therin (like Rand) is annoyingly arrogant and abrasive to anyone who disagrees with him. Could you see Taim praising Rand (grudgingly or otherwise) at any time other than when Rand is standing right there in front of him? I can't. The real point is that it was Lews Therin's own arrogance that made many of the Forsaken turn, which then leads into the other point that, from all apparent evidence, they made the right choice (since they were still alive three thousand years later, unlike Lews Therin). Lews Therin probably will continue to come off as an ass every time he's mentioned, simply because I think he is an ass.

GRAENDAL

Those who knew Graendal well often did not like her. While her public calls for a sparse life were always moderate, in private she was inevitably abrasive and cutting towards anyone who did not live up to her standards, which meant toward everyone.

- excerpt from 'The Forsaken'

Inside her inner sanctum, Kamarile Maradim Nindar stretched herself out across a lounge and did her best to relax. She found it strange that she thought of this room as such, but she did. It was her place, a place where she could be herself, and think whatever she wanted to think, and say whatever she wanted to say. Not that she ever let anyone else in – or at least, anyone in a position to pay attention to what she was saying – but she could say things if she wanted to.

There were a few of her pets, of course, but they hardly counted. As often as not they were completely in thrall to her, unable to think of anything else, and that was how she liked it. Only a few now, but there would be more; for now she had to be careful, signs of the Dark were rooted from every place, and if anyone had a hint of what went on in here then it could be over for her already. Which was why she made sure they never had even a hint.

They saw exactly what she allowed them to see, on the outside. She supposed that, if she had wanted to, she could make sure they all still thought she was who she had been, but that would have been pointless. At least, it would have been to her. She wanted to show them exactly what she thought about the world they had created for themselves. She had worked so hard, given her whole life, towards helping other people, using her skills and talents for the good of society rather than her own good, as she was expected to. She tried to teach them how they should live, and they had never listened. And one day… there was just nothing left. She couldn't do it any more.

On that day was born the entity that now lived inside her body and spoke with her voice. At least, that was how she sometimes thought of it; other times she saw no difference between herself and her other self, and that was fine, since she wanted nothing to do with Kamarile Maradim Nindar any longer. In the privacy of her own head, she thought of her alter ego as 'Graendal'. And Graendal had a much clearer view of the world than Kamarile Maradim ever had.

Softly, she stroked the heads of one of her pets who had brought her some wine. Her smile brought eager joy to his face, and his eyes sought for any other way he could please her. He worshipped her. They all did; she had seen to that. And soon, everyone would. She had chosen them especially, as the people who would likely have objected most had this little secret been revealed. Irony was never lost on her. They would have tried to put strangleholds on her, to force her into following their way after they had refused to follow hers. Kamarile Maradim might have accepted that, but Graendal never would have. And so this was the way things had to be.

It had never been difficult to control them, even through less obvious means than simple Compulsion. Human minds were… the most exquisite of creations. They built up their defences and their walls, but there was always one weak point, one gap where all one had to do was apply the slightest amount of pressure to send it all crashing to the ground, if you knew how. And Kamarile Maradim had known better than anyone. No one knew more about the workings of the mind than her, and she had used that knowledge to help those who had suffered such a fate, once upon a time. Not any longer.

And so it was the simplest of things for her to occasionally nudge someone in one direction, or manipulate them in the other. So many people were convinced that they had her figured out, as it were, when they didn't know the first thing about her. And she liked it that way. They did not deserve to be part of her life, would never see anything in her until the day that she had them in her power, but as long as she could make them think they did know her, and knew what she knew, then she could make use of that.

If it was her body that she had to make use of, for that matter, then she would use it. She was well aware that she was beautiful; occasionally people mentioned others who were thought of as even more so, like Mierin Eronaile or Ilyena Therin Moerelle, certain that it would throw her off, but it never did. It made no difference to her. It was only other people's perceptions that determined it, and why should she care what other people thought? Their minds were the playground where she ruled and played her games.

And as long as she was trying to take the place of power she was owed, she might as well suit herself. That meant no more trying to help the people who snubbed her in her old life. They could rot for all she cared. Now she had only herself to worry about, and it gave her the chance to show them exactly what their kind of life would bring them. She could do whatever she wanted. She had already proved herself to be superior to them, perhaps even something other than human, a higher being whose will was law to her servants. They were distracted now, by the Shadow. She would play her own role in that, of course, a means to an end. And then, she would ascend to her position, and they could never stop her.

Extreme hedonism replaced Graendal's asceticism… sensual and sexual pleasures took primacy over everything else. There is no evidence that this change was caused by the Dark One. Instead, it seems to have stemmed from a realisation that the world could never live up to her standards.

- excerpt from 'The Forsaken'