Here is the second chapter that I wrote way back in 2001. I'm still not entirely sure if I like the direction I chose back then for this story. I would really appreciate your opinions on how you like this second chapter as opposed to the first. Thanks in advance, and enjoy.
Chapter 2: A new toy
The first thing that Jherik noticed upon waking was that he couldn't touch the Source when he reached for it. The second was the pain--excruciating pain that made him see flashes of white and brought water to his eyes. He made another attempt to reach for the Source, this time more timidly, but the pain was just as intense, forcing him to lie still for a couple of minutes in order to catch his breath. He was severed from the Source. Oh light! He was severed, and it was his own fault. He had drawn so much of the Power, his connection to the True Source had been cut. But better this than the alternative--almost.
Everything began to come back to him--the brief struggle with the Dreadlord, the drawing of that strange weapon, and then Jherik drawing more than he could contain so as to defeat him. However, had he not done so, it would be his body lying on the ground instead of the other way around. But was being burnt out actually better than being dead. Had this happened several years ago, he would have said no, and wished himself in the grave, but things were different now. What could not be healed, had been. All he had to do was find himself an Aes Sedai, and she could easily return him to his previous strength.
Thinking of where an Aes Sedai might be caused Jherik to remember that he was still lying face down in the dusty, dry ground. He lifted his head and wiped at his face and eyes, spitting dirt out of his mouth. The body of the Dreadlord lay before him, as did masses of other bodies, contorted in unnatural positions that no living body would willingly allow itself to be bent. Fighting could still be heard in the distance, but none of it was nearby. But even a child could tell that it had been, and not that long ago.
Jherik was lucky to still be alive, twofold. Not only had he survived his battle with the Dreadlord, but he had also been fortunate enough to not been trampled to death by the fighting that ensued after he had passed out. How long had he been unconscious? That was not important! At least Jherik knew the battle--the war--was not over; he still had a chance to do his job, to protect the Lord Dragon's army, to still play a part, if only...
If only he weren't severed. Jherik stood up and brushed himself off. His sword lie in front of him, still covered in Trolloc and darkfriend blood, still wet. He wiped the blood off on a Trolloc's sleeve and returned it to his scabbard. So he hadn't been unconscious that long since burning himself out. Jherik winced at the thought of reaching for the Source again; the pain was unbearable. That's what was making his stomach do back-flips. That's what was strange about the whole ordeal. He did not like being cut off from the source by any means, but at least that made sense. At least he understood severing. But this pain was unnatural. Granted, he had never been severed before, but he had heard from others who had, and none of them experienced any pain.
Well, no matter, Jherik was sure that it would not be a problem. He probably only hit his head when he passed out, and that's what was causing the pain when he reached for the Source. What he needed to do was go find himself an Aes Sedai to heal him, and then get himself back into the battle. He should consider himself lucky that the battle hadn't ended with him still unconscious, then he would've been in real trouble. Cut off from the source, and alone at the foot of Shayol Ghul--except for the dead that is.
Jherik shivered at the thought, and it occurred to him that he'd been shivering from the cold for some time now too. He must get control of himself and concentrate. Stop letting a little setback like this get under his skin. He was severed, yes, but it was reversible, and there were Aes Sedai nearby who could heal him. That line of thinking allowed Jherik to relax and regain the calm required to ignore the effects of the weather. Slowly he felt the cold slip away, and in seconds he stopped shivering, as if it were somebody else's body that was standing at the foot of Shayol Ghul with the icy wind whipping down at him.
Allowing himself to ignore the temperature also helped him collect his thoughts. What was that weapon that the Dreadlord had? Surely it must be an angreal of some sort, and although he might not be able to use it now, he intended to have it when he was healed. Jherik walked over to the body of the Dreadlord, and saw the rod still clutched in the man's fist.
I wonder what it does, he thought to himself. He shouldn't be able to do anything with it if he picked it up, with him being cut off from the Source, but only a fool toyed with something he did not understand. It could be a ter'angreal, and not all of those required the Power to work. Then again, he couldn't very well leave it there for another Dreadlord to find. Anyway, he was cut off, so it probably was safe for him to touch. He wasn't going to be able to do anything with it in his condition, and he wasn't going to allow it to fall into the Shadow's hands again.
Jherik leaned over, and pulled hard at the rod, expecting the Dreadlord's grip to be tight, but it came free easily, causing him to have to step back awkwardly to keep from falling back down. It was light, he thought as he tested the weight of it in his hand. It was some strange material, too smooth for stone, but certainly hard enough. It didn't look like metal though. Jherik knew of no metal that had that shade of brilliant white. The thickest part--the handle--fit nicely into the palm of his hand, while the other end came nearly to a point, but was rounded at the end. Surely, not a weapon used to stab, but still a weapon of some kind, or else the Dreadlord would have never drawn it on Jherik. What would have been the point? A bluff maybe? No, he doubted that.
For some reason, the weapon was beginning to feel heavier. No, not heavier exactly, but something had changed, and it wasn't the weight. It was just that the closest way for Jherik to interpret the change was to say that it felt heavier, perhaps in the same way the air feels heavier when one expects lightning. And now his arm almost began to tingle. It was almost instinctive when Jherik pointed the rod towards a nearby dead body and pushed the 'heaviness' out of it.
Jherik jumped and almost dropped it when an electric charge, almost identical to lightning, shot from the rod. Muttering a curse, he was surprised to sense that the 'heaviness' was gone, but only moments later he could feel it building again, and with it he felt out a way to control the charging. What had he done? He didn't know how, but he had somehow figured out how to make the 'heaviness' stop building, and he was pretty sure he had also figured out how to charge even faster--almost instantly. This thing was no angreal, or at least it was one that didn't require the Power. He smiled to himself. Maybe he wasn't so helpless after all.
Curious about what happened to the dead body--a horse--he checked to see what the rod had done to it. There seemed to be no change at all, but Jherik did not doubt the lethality of his new toy. There would be no physical damage if he used it on an enemy, but as surely as that horse was already dead, so would whatever that was staring down the pointed end of the weapon. That brought a smile to Jherik's face.
When he was healed and able to touch the Source again, he would have great power. The Lord Dragon would let him fight on the front lines wielding both the Power and his lightning rod. The Shadow's armies would tremble at his gaze. Jherik turned and walked toward the fighting, looking for an Aes Sedai to heal him, and for another target, but a living target this time. There must be a Fade or Trolloc around somewhere, Jherik would even make do with a darkfriend. He must make the Lord Dragon proud.