Lazaruss :" So here it is ; my version of WOT book 13. Mind you, I haven't yet been able to figure out everything from TGS, but I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track. Mind you, I'm going to copy- paste some parts of my previous work into this, but each chapter will have new things. I don't own anything. "

Wheel Of Time ; Book Thirteen

Prologue 1.a ; Peaces

Shadow was thick in the wooden corridor carpeted in red. A few oil lamps on its dark walls weren't enough to scatter them efficiently, something he highly valued ; A small mercy he couldn't do without. Shadows were his only refuge and escape from the Jailor, for in the shadows was where his power lied. A small power, yet all he had. He had to use what he had left, to use any means necessary just to reach tomorrow. And tomorrow, the day after… And after that…

His soft black boots gave no sound not even over old boards that would squeak to anyone else's, as he was gliding to the room, swiftly and deadly like a wiper. Air and draft made no stir on his black hooded cloak, no matter how fast he would stream down the halls or how strong the draft would be. Catching in moments a mild scent, the Halfman paused, sniffing the air. He was ordered to avoid being seen by others. Only those that needed to, should. Only the selected few. The sent of human flesh faded in the air replaced by the smell of the room. Mold and dust and dampness. Bare few people still occupied the inn at the Blue Flower, yet caution was a golden quality, now more than ever. No, it was only a breath taken minutes back. Nothing to be alarmed about. He wished he could stop quivering, though.

Ever since the Jailor brought them here, dark times have befallen this establishment. The inn was loosing customers rapidly, all complaining about some trifle things, yet fear was what drove them out. At least, rats and pests and other of the Great Lord's eyes seemed to avoid this building, if such a thing was even possible considering the situation. But except from the vermin, rot and decay gripped this building as tightly as anywhere else. Even the plaster started to fall off the walls. He knew better than to assume that this has to do with the Great Lord's braking free, but something about the last guest that has checked in. The owners were scared spitless too, or they would run away with whatever they could carry, leaving their little party to manage on their own. And they were not stupid enough to ask them to leave, ether.

It wasn't just these people. The entire world was afraid. All the signs were there. The day of the Return was shortly at hand, and there would be no shadows to hide. Not for him.

Tonight he saw them. His brethren and servants and their pets, all marching from the Blight, dispatched by Shayol Ghul, the Mountain itself. There was little chance of being caught. No one there would ever suspect him, of all creatures was a spy. He didn't even believe the situation him self ; a Myrdraal not in service to the Shadow ! A traitor amongst the faithful !

The Blight was cold and dark tonight. Takan'dar was spitting enough smoke to blacken the world's sky, and blades forged in the screams of those innocent made the blacksmiths proud. He still had his, a gleaming black sword still reeking of thick despair. The Jailor was kind enough to give it back to him after the first day. They both knew that now that sword will never strike there where the Jailor would not have it. Oh, how he hated and despised him. But there was no choice any more. Even if he would somehow manage to kill him, the Great Lord would never let him be. The Great Lord's mercy was but a little less horrible than his punishment. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Dodging a corner he finally reached the room. A simple guest quarters for a not so simple guest. There was more light here which did not suit him much, but he resumed as he went without hesitation. He must be eager to please his new master if he would see tomorrow.

Stopping in front of the door he reached forth and knocked. The Jailor commanded him to knock as it once was done in Aridhol. At first the Halfman didn't know how it was suppose to be, but he learned it after the first few tortures. It was dubious that they even had special kinds of knocking in Aridhol. More likely, the Jailor just wanted to torture him out of boredom, or maybe to find a way to recognize him by knocking he would come up with, during pain.

A dry and thin man cracked them opened just enough to expose half of his face and observe him. He too was different than the last time the Halfman saw him. More wrinkles, more gray in his hair, bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep and of course more insanity circling them. It seemed that nothing was immune to the Jailor's presence any longer. The former Whitecloak eyed him suspiciously. Despite all the changes he might have endured, the man still turned pale as he'd look at his eye-less face. 'Gaze of the eye-less was fear'. Fear and insanity. A lovely touch upon the human's mind. But the Midraal was uneasy about it too ; how much of such an effect did the Jailor have on him ?

" Master Mordeth is expecting me. "; he spoke in a voice which sounded like grinding bones or tearing old leather. It made the man's hair stand up even more. Despite everything, still very satisfactory. Backing away a few steps, the former Whitecloak opened the door all the way letting him trough. Giving him one of his best grins trough those corpse-white teeth, the Halfman entered.

The room wasn't very big for the Jailor liked to remain anonymous. It held almost nothing but a bed, a chair, a washstand and a small wardrobe chest. A few messy, hardly touched metal trays stood on the floor near the entrance. Poison was definitely out of the question now that he ceased drinking and dining altogether. It was already spoiling any way, almost a day old. There was also a girl there, half dressed and staring at the ceiling with unblinking eyes ; A woman of the streets, fading from this life due to a merest touch. Soon she'd start to tremble and than her life will freeze cold. It was pure fear that was killing her ; fear and terror in their rawest form, but it was so much of it and so crudely pored into her soul, she wasn't even aware of what it was that was killing her. He could smell the reek it from where he stood. The Jailor had such… mortal… appetites.

The man who called him self Jeraal Mordeth was sitting on an opened window, one foot inside, the other bended on the frame so he could place his elbow at the knee while studying his dagger, short and curved with a long gilded handle that held a sizable ruby at the end of its hilt, and blade decorated by serpents of golden threads. Padan Fain, as his last master named him, and there was still a standing order to kill him on sight. The short old man with a big nose and small cunning black eyes was grinning at the moonlight reflected off the blade of his dagger. The light actually seemed paler as it passed its edge. Dry gray hair, all messy, never reached his ill-fitting noble red coat, and a short trimmed beard decorated his face.

Midraal was waiting for the Jailor to speak to him first, another lesson he was thought from the beginning. It could sometimes last for hours, but if he'd make a sound before he was spoken to, he would suffer pain he did not believe could be inflicted upon his kind. Such lessons were sometimes long, sometimes short, depending on the Jailor's mood, but never without intended results. No meter how long it took, he had to wait on being addressed, even though the Jailor was so enticed in studying his…

" Shaidar Haran… "; the man spoke suddenly, almost startling him, but the name stretched long and sort of breathy over his tongue :" … The Hand of Darkness… "; he continued :" Have you seen him yet ?"

" No. "; the Halfman spoke :" But his orders are on every lip in the Blight. "

Jailor turned his cold stare meeting his eye-less face :" I'll ask if lips and orders concern me. "

This time, meeting the Myrdraal's eyes produced a reversed effect. The Halfman tried not to shudder as he bowed his head, but he knew this was a bad omen, one that promised more pain in the near future. Importance of protocol, or mere boredom, it all led to the same. Yet it turned out that Fain had no time to mind his slips of the tongue :

" Where is the army going ?"

" To Torwain's Gap and southward. "; the Mydraal spoke. It was going to meet an army that rode under a most peculiar banner, yet this time he wasn't going to say a word more than he had to.

" Good. "; Fain muttered :" And the bird of gold shall feed the dark hounds. "; Despite himself, Myrdraal twitched. How much did this man know ? Why did he even send him to investigate if he already had the answers ? Even the Chosen would not waist his time so :" And what news of Morudin ?"

" The Nae'bliss never shows him self out in the opened, "; he spoke :" Yet his orders are to murder Perin Aybara and Matrim Cauton. "; he had to pause before continuing, for Fain gave him an angry frown :" Rand Al'Thor is to be left for him. "

" Al'Thor !"; Fain growled, sending chill down his spine :" He'll suffer death of a thousand deaths, and thank me on his knees when I finally give it to him. But it shall be me ! He is mine ! My hand !"

Even the former Whitecloak at the door shivered. He was quite mad now, yet Jailor's yell would still freeze his toes. Al'Thor was a sensitive topic. The Myrdraal did not know how much of the Great Lord's touch remained within Fain's soul, but he was still compelled to follow al'Thor, drawn to him like a blood hound. It kept him awake at night, sometimes screaming curses with the man's name in them, at the walls in the room. Most of the time he was able to suppress the urge, probably by the means of his dagger, yet when he would sleep, seldom as it was, his thoughts would drift to that place again. It was a blow that tipped him over the edge when he found out that Al'Thor somehow survived the cut from the Jailor's dagger the last time they'd met – Survived – and now Fain seemed madder than ever.

" You will not drive me again !"; Fain growled :" Rand al'Thor will scream as no one ever has ! No ! I must not let that happen ! He must die quickly… As soon as possible, not to hound me again. Dangerous. He's dangerous, but he must die and must die by my hand ! Let the whole world die if that is what it takes !"

Despite himself, the Halfman smiled. Something within him chuckled to such words, though he didn't know what. Perhaps the corruption which was seeping from the Jailor was affecting him too ; So similar to that of the Great Lord's and yet quite the opposite. That was a disturbing possibility. Fain was not the Great Lord, yet the Halfman was already feeling a bond to him, much stronger than that he was made with. Yet the evil which was in the Jailor would surely tend to destroy any creature such as he. Or maybe just pervert him into… He didn't want to think about that, but his eye-less face glanced at the former Whitecloak at the dour.

Fain was gripping his dagger so hard it made his knuckles pale. It seems as he was fighting back the urge to run it trough the nearest heart, and the Midraal was not able to run. He simply had no strength in him to go before the Jailor was done with him. Rand al'Thor was never a good topic to mention.

" We must speed up the turnings. "; Fain murmured to himself :" Their plans won't see me, no, not me ; a snake in the grass. The venom shall set me free. "; he raised his dagger to admire its blade again :" First al'Thor, and than the others… They will scream. Yes… They will scream… "

The Halfman was so intent on listening to his new instructions, he failed to realize his lips curved into a smile once more. The half dressed girl had made her last twitch…

Warm rays of the sun were spilling over snow-tipped peaks, radiating with joy and relief for everyone, but mostly for Leane Sharif. After months of continuous imprisonment in the Tower's basements, the girl reveled in fresh air and sunlight. Tesan watched her with a sense of curiosity and wonder as she moved around the mountainside, a smile on her face and humming to herself softly. Had there been no danger of falling off the cliff, she was sure the girl would have been hopping.

She tsked to herself, mildly irritated. Leane was anything but a girl, yet right now it was hard not to think of her as such, with that youthful face of hers and the way she was acting. Understandable, with all she had been through, but Tesan didn't quite approve of such behavior. Most inappropriate for an Aes Sedai. Not to mention the way she had been dressing since, or the time she had been spending in front of a mirror. Being Domani was no excuse ; nationalities fell second to being an Aes Sedai.

Even so, Tesan wasn't really annoyed. How could anyone be anything but joyous when tasting freedom for the first time in months ? How could anyone hold on to their restraint after what that poor woman had been through ? She smiled to herself, dropping her face conceal it ; how could anyone restrain their joy when the sun had finally come back to the world ?

Barely a day earlier the sky had been blanketed by an impenetrable layer of bleak flat clouds, shutting the sun off, preventing it from shining upon the land. Not even the stars and the moon had been there any more to give their comfort. And now at last, like a ripple in the pond from the spot where a pebble landed, the clouds have broken apart in a perfect circle. Tesan gazed at the countryside stretching out before her, now illuminated by the radiant sun. Barely anything green could be seen down there. From the river to the east to the planes of the west, nothing but an occasional tree still struggling to blossom broke the monotonous scene of dirt, mud and dust. Hopefully, the long awaited dawn would be able to change all that.

" I don't believe we will find anything here. " Doesine spoke softly to her. " We should make haste to the top and go back. "

The three of them were not the only group of sisters dispatched from the White Tower to investigate Dragonmount. Indeed, the return of sunlight had not gone unnoticed among the sisters and everyone agreed it deserved at least some attention.

But there were more important tasks to deal with first. As soon as the ceremony of raising Egwene to the Amyrlin was done, the first task at hand was to choose the Hall and the Ajah Heads. It had been a tiring and exhausting matter which was still going on back at the Tower for most of the Ajahs. The yellows were the first to reach an agreement and despite the fact that Doesine had remained a Sitter, she had still chosen to venture out with them.

With so much that yet needed doing, not many were spared for this expedition. The healing of the Tower was naturally the main priority, so only three groups of three sisters were dispatched to investigate Dragonmount. Egwene… The Amyrlin had insisted that they be groups of sisters from different Ajahs and that they be both Rebel and… It had been a sound decision, but still much time had passed before it was decided who exactly was to go with whom. The only other thing the Amyrlin asked for was that Doesine and Tesan go together with Leane and keep an eye on her. Fresh air and light would do her good. Egwene had told them. But freedom can be intoxicating. Please keep an eye on her.

Amazing that the child possessed such a sound and logical mind. And such spirit. It was too soon to tell whether she had been fully accepted by the Ajahs, but she herself was quite pleased with the way things turned out. Thinking of that child as an Amyrlin was hard for the most part, but that would change. In time.

Observing Leane, she nodded back to Doesine. There were far more important matters to be concerned with than this. Matters like that Black Tower in Andor. Many rumors had been circulating Tar Valon for a while now about al'Thor's army of Asha'men, and none anything but disturbing. Even if saidin was finally clean – which still sounded too wonderful to be believed – the shear potential for harm of these men reached disastrous. Two times were the emissaries sent and disappeared without a word, and no one yet knew whether they ended up captured like Elaida's half-brained group of assailants, or something worse. Considering the possibilities of that always made her shudder.

One spark of hope remained, though ; the Rebels have brought with them almost two thousand women able to channel. Along with the ones gathered by Elaida, they were more than ready to deal with this so-called Black Tower. It was bold an unorthodox to enlist most of these girls in the novice book in the first place, but Tesan doubted anyone failed to see the logic of that. Traditions and customs had to change with times, and these were the most dangerous times. And if they manage to re-educate those twelve women they had taken from the Seanchan…

Those damane, as they called themselves were most troubling. Deep down, each of them believed to her core that she was a… a wild animal needed to be leashed by those filthy things. It would have been far better off to interrogate them and execute them. Egwene believed they could be re-educated and trained to be Aes Sedai, but many thought that it was a waste of valuable effort, better used elsewhere. The Seanchan had a lot to answer for.

" I think you are right, Doesine. " She spoke. " It's best to be done with this quickly. Let's catch up with her. "

Next to Seanchan and the Last Battle, and the Black tower, clear sky of Dragonmount was but a grain of sand in the desert. In a moment, all three were linked with Doesine melding the flows and weaving a Gateway to the top. During this little venture, control over the link was being passed down in turn between Doesine and herself, so that they would be able to practice gateways. And this time Doesine got it right the first time, opening a silvery-blue hole in the air to the tallest peeks of Dragonmount. As they passed through together, Tesan marveled at the miracle of Traveling uncovered again after three thousand years. In a matter of minutes, they had stepped into a place where no one had set foot for hundreds of years. Remarkable.

But as the gateway closed behind them, the unusual nature of their surroundings washed away the link and the sense of marvel. There was no snow here. The small tilted platter seemed like it was sticking out of the topper-most peeks of the mountain, encompassing the jagged tips like a scarf. Bare gray rocks plated together in broken-off layers radiated with faint warmth and even the breeze which carried chill from the lower slopes, seemed pleasant and soothing. This high, sky over their heads was still showing last hints of stars to the west, even though the rising sun had long since cleared the horizon.

It made no sense ; Snow up here should have been reaching their knees, but instead this place was a… a sanctuary from the cold. Was this yet another sign of imminent Tarmon Gaidon ? Was the Dark One touching the pattern yet again ? She couldn't explain it, but somehow she knew that was not the case. There was no darkness here. Instead, this place seemed to… vibrating through her boots in a deep relaxing manner, like the land was making a long sigh of relief.

" I think we've found the point of origin. " Leane spoke to which Tesan nodded. She could almost feel the rock hum silently like a lullaby just beyond their hearing, whispering of safety and warmth and freedom from burdens cast away. Somehow, this was a good place.

The three separated, going about and carefully exploring the area. If there were any clues to be found, this was the place to look. And truly it didn't take Tesan long to spot a white glitter of shattered peaces, scattered upon the flat stone surface. On closer inspection, it appeared to have been an ivory figurine of a robed man before it was broken. Was it a ter'angreal of some kind ? It didn't seem like one now, but maybe it had been.

She was about to summon the others when Doesine beat her to it :" There's someone over here. " she spoke hurrying around a rocky corner.

Leaving the shattered figurine behind, Tesan hurried after her. Someone here ? It seemed highly improbable, but than again, stranger things were happening here. As she and Leane joined her, they found a man lying facedown on the ground, blanketed by a gray patched cloak that was leaving only his head uncovered. His hair was strikingly reddish and he appeared very large in stature.

Approaching him and embracing the source, Doesine readied the flows for delving and gently flipped the poor fellow over with a weave of air. He certainly looked like he was in need of healing, whoever he was. How on earth did he manage to climb so high ? Maybe he was a Seanchan that fell off one of their flying monsters during their retreat. If so, than they had another prisoner to add to those they'd captured.

Now that he was on his back, the oddity of this fellow came into view. Men often left traces of their path all over them if one knew where to look, but the first thing she spotted made no sense at all. He was taller than most men she had seen, which was why he appeared so developed in the first place. But the really odd thing was his fine black clothes decorated with gold and silver. Unlike that tattered cloak, this outfit belonged on a king. His left hand appeared to have been cut off long ago, but that only made his presence here more puzzling ; a man with only one good hand, here ? He could not have been a stray Seanchan or a lost mountain climber.

Something in the silence made her notice that Doesine had not moved since she'd approached to heal the fellow, nor did she weave her healing on him. She stood there frozen, eyes wide with shock and mouth hanging opened. It was than, that she directed her attention on the man's face for the first time and she had to cover her mouth with both hands to muffle a gasp.

Rand al'Thor ! This was Rand al'Thor ! There wasn't an Aes Sedai in Tar Valon who didn't know that face by now. Leane muttered something fervently but it barely registered. The Dragon Reborn was lying unconscious right there and they had just stumbled onto him like a bunch of blundering geese ! Blood and ashes ! What a fool she had been not to assume that he might have arrived there the same way they did ! The next instant all three of them were holding saidar, sharing a link guided by Doesine. Even so, Tesan didn't feel any safer ; she doubted that three of them would be able to contain him especially with Leane in the circle.

But Rand al'Thor didn't stir. He didn't stir even when he had been turned over on his back by Doesine, thank the Light. He appeared to be sleeping, but… What was wrong with him ? What was he doing here ?

" We have to get him to the Tower. " She whispered as softly as she could. If they'd wake him up… She dreaded to think of what might happen.

" Maybe… maybe we should get some help… ?" Leane asked. " It would be… safer if there were… more of us. "

Tesan considered that ; thirteen of them, linked sounded like a good idea. A short trip to the Tower and back by a Gateway and…

" If we do so, " Doesine whispered " the entire Tar Valon will know within the hour. It would be like poring oil into fire. "

As much as it was galling, it was true. In their current condition, the Aes Sedai were unable to react properly to something of this magnitude. But it also meant that the three of them would have no help what so ever. Al'Thor still didn't stir, but to Tesan, it appeared as though he might leap at them at any moment, or burn them to cinder, or…

Taking a deep breath she forced her fear down with all the stubbornness she could muster. " We'll just have to be very careful as we move him. " she whispered. " Each thread must be woven softer than cobweb. "

Nodding slowly, Doesine took a deep breath...

Lazaruss :" Before you ask, Rand did not simply decide to take a nap up there. He had been through hell, he had no sleep for who knows how long, he had just channeled more of the One Power than anyone in history, and so I imagine that after his 'revelation', pain and exhaustion crashed down upon him. It was shortly before those in Tar Valon noticed the clear sky. "