Author's Note: An interesting backstory into one of the characters leads to an encounter with Harry. Could he be a Wolfbrother? Or something else?

Many thanks to Robert Jordan for all the source material I used.

____

CHAPTER SIX

THE SA'ANGREAL

Tar Valon

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose on the slopes of the great mountain known as Dragonmount. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.

The wind swept north and west below the lengthening afternoon shadows, passing over an array of villages that dotted the landscape on the fringes of the Shining Walls of Tar Valon. Stone lacework supported bridges which spanned the length of the River Erinin and led into the great city.

Within those walls Ogier-made buildings well over two thousand years old seemed to grow out of the ground rather than having been built, or to be the work of wind and water rather than that of even the fabled hands of Ogier stone-masons. Some suggested birds taking flight, or huge shells from distant seas. Soaring towers, flared or fluted or spiralled, stood connected by bridges hundreds of feet in the air, often without rails. Only those long in Tar Valon could avoid gaping like country folk who had never been off the farm.

Greatest of these towers, the White Tower dominated the city, gleaming like polished bone in the sun. The first sight travelers had of Tar Valon, before their horses came in view of the bridges, before their river boat captains sighted the island, was the Tower reflecting the sun like a beacon. Yet the White Tower could have been the smallest in Tar Valon; the fact that it was the heart of Aes Sedai power would still have awed the island city.

Elyas Machera spurred the young roan onward toward the square surrounding the Tower. Despite the hour, the square was nearly empty of people. That fact in itself unnerved him just a little. He was a lean man with a short beard and broad shoulders. His eyes were a chestnut brown, and they studied the broad marble staircase that led up to the Tower itself as he drew closer.

"Do you think we should tell them?" he wondered aloud.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye and gave a wry grin at the woman saddled astride a white palomino next to him. She was elegant, despite being fairly stocky, with a certain agelessness about her face. The green-fringed shawl she wore draped around her shoulders was a suitable complement to her dark hair.

She studied his face for a moment before answering. "No. I do not think we need worry about that yet. We have enough to concern us as it is. If they discover what you can do—"

His grin broadened. "The Reds don't like me anyway. They're jealous of my good looks."

"You must learn to watch yourself, my Gaidin," she cautioned. "I cannot afford to lose you now."

"As you wish, Rina Sedai." He bowed to her in his saddle, and her horse carried her a few paces past him. He studied her departing back for a moment before hurrying to catch up.

The staircase at the foot of the Tower led up to a set of intricately carved doors wide enough for a dozen men abreast to walk comfortably through. To his knowledge, these doors had never been closed except in times of war or deception from within the city. There were always some people in need of aid or an answer they thought only Aes Sedai could provide them. Many would find help or guidance inside, though often not what they had expected or hoped for.

Elyas climbed off the back of his horse and held out a hand for the Aes Sedai. Rina gave him a tight-lipped smile and took it, gingerly stepping down and brushing the wrinkles out of her skirts. A stablehand ran up to them, his chest slick with sweat. He bowed deeply.

"Your pardon, Aes Sedai. You're the fourth one's come today. Usually they like to space it out a bit, but I suppose the Tower does have its own methods." His face blanched then, horrified that he had spoken out of turn in such company. "Your pardon, forgive me."

Elyas put on his best glare and handed the young man the reins to the two horses. One look at the Warder's eyes was enough to drain what little colour remained of the lad's face and set him twitching on the spot, his eyes darting over the ground. "See that they are well taken care of," he growled menacingly. "The Tower will be the least of your concerns if they are not."

The stablehand still refused to meet his eye, but he bowed again, his nose nearly brushing the cobblestones. "Your pardon, Warder. Aes Sedai." The young man turned and rushed off with their mounts.

Elyas grinned at Rina. "What?"

She shook her head ruefully. "Why must you always inspire fear wherever you go, man? I am of the Green Ajah. I happen to like healthy young men. You have a lot to learn, Gaidin."

"I was only having a bit of fun," he protested.

"But at what expense?" She turned her back on him and started up the staircase, her deep smile hidden from view.

Elyas shook his head bemusedly and stared after her. Aes Sedai. Why did I ever sign up for this? He stalked off after her.

Another thought entered his head just before he crossed the threshold into the Tower. He paused with one foot inside the doorway, head tilted curiously. Be mindful, brother. An image came to him. Four wolves loping along easily in a sparse bit of woods.

Rina turned back to him. "Elyas? What is it?"

"Wolves," he grumbled nonchalantly. "They just said—"

Quiet, man! Didn't I tell you there were ears inside the Tower! Don't discuss it here, you fool!"

Elyas stood there gaping at her, any retort he might have had choked off by her sudden outburst. Without further ado, she turned and seemingly glided down the hall. He had little choice but to follow.

* * * * *

The heat and light of the sun had not quite stretched as far as the Amyrlin's chambers, and her mood reflected as much. Tamra Ospenya was taller than most women, with long hair streaked with gray and kind eyes. By many in the Tower, she was considered to be very fair and just, but at that moment, she felt none of the sort. She had work to do.

The Amyrlin Seat's study had been occupied by many grand and powerful women over the centuries, and reminders of the fact filled the room, from the tall fireplace all of golden marble from Kandor, cold now, to the paneled walls of pale, oddly striped wood, iron hard yet carved in wondrous beasts and wildly feathered birds. Those panels had been brought from the mysterious lands beyond the Aiel Waste well over a thousand years ago, and the fireplace was more than twice as old. The polished redstone of the floor had come from the Mountains of Mist. High arched windows led onto a balcony. The iridescent stone framing the windows shone like pearls, and had been salvaged from the remains of a city sunk into the Sea of Storms by the Breaking of the World; no one had ever seen its like.

Tamra paced before the balcony, head down in thought, but every once in a while shooting a glance out over the city beyond. She had never been one for cities. The abundance of people made her uncomfortable. One always ran the risk of being mugged or raped or…worse. She shivered, and then caught herself abruptly. That was no way to think now. She was the Amyrlin Seat, and the Tower needed her. The future needed her.

"You've been doing that all night," a voice said.

She turned, blinking for the first real time in hours, and managed to take in the rest of the room. Another woman stood regally by the door, wearing a blue striped stole and holding a gilt-flamed staff before her in both hands. She bore the same look of agelessness in the face that all Aes Sedai were blessed with, yet she was old, Tamra knew. Far older than she herself was. She was rather lean, with coppery skin and short white hair. Her eyes were gray and penetrating.

"Pacing," Aeldra continued. "Mother, will you not tell me what is troubling you?"

Tamra chewed her lower lip for a moment before answering. "The Black Ajah," she said hesitantly. She had stopped pacing. "I have had dreams now for the past several nights. I keep seeing things in the shadows; shapes caught in the corner of my vision that vanish when I turn to get a better look."

"Such is the way of all Aes Sedai," the Keeper said. "I fear we are all doomed to treat everything with suspicion and malcontent. The Tower is crumbling from within. Very soon, the Red Ajah—or even the Black—will be the least of our worries."

Tamra shook her head. "Something is different this time, daughter. Ever since Gitara—" She caught herself, but barely. There were only two others beside herself that knew of that Foretelling, and neither of them was in the room. To speak of it to anyone else, even her Keeper of the Chronicles, would be very bad for her indeed. Perhaps very bad for everyone.

Aeldra cocked her head curiously. "Mother? What of Gitara Sedai?"

"It is nothing, child." The word was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and the Keeper's eyes widened in shock. "Daughter. Forgive me, Aeldra. It has been a long time since I last had the comfort of a warm bed."

The Keeper inclined her head slightly and her gaze relaxed. She had not given any other indication of her dislike at being addressed as if she were still one of the Accepted. "Not at all, Mother. I quite understand."

"Has Rina arrived yet?"

"Yes, Mother. The other three are already settled in their chambers. If it is your wish, I shall—"

"No, Aeldra. I wish to speak with her first, and she knows it. I suspect she will be on her way here now."

No sooner had she finished speaking than a brusque knock sounded at the door. Tamra nodded to herself and swept around behind her desk, smoothing out the folds in her desk before taking a seat in the high-backed chair, carved in polished oak and inset with plum cushions. There were no other chairs in the room. Tamra made it a practice not to let guests become too comfortable in her presence.

Aeldra opened the door, and in swept the stout form of Rina Sedai, closely followed by her Warder. Tamra shivered in spite of herself. It was not natural, what the man did. He looked at her calmly, and she was thankful that his eyes were, at least, still brown.

The door closed behind the pair and Aeldra took up a position against the wall next to the door. The Keeper nearly always presided over the Amyrlin's audiences with any guests. It was uncommon for her to be asked to wait outside, but not entirely unheard of.

The Green Sister merely bowed her head in deference, while the Warder dropped to one knee and kept his eyes on the floor. The knuckles of his right hand were pressed against the redstone, while his left touched the hilt of his sword.

"Mother," Rina said. "As you have called me, so have I come."

"Indeed, daughter. What news have you?

"Troubling news, Mother. In the span of a single day, we witnessed seven trader's boats being swept downriver. It's far too early in the season. It was almost as if they were running from something. Or someone. But then there were the ravens. In all my life, I've never seen so many of the birds on the hunt at once. And so far south, at this time of year. It's unheard of."

"Nor have I," Elyas rose to his feet with the agility of a wolf and looked the Amyrlin dead in the eye. He didn't seem to be aware of her glare. "Mother," he added after a moment. "I've spent enough time in the Borderlands to know. So has Lan. Ravens would not be this far south without a purpose."

Tamra eyed him for a moment, calculating under her brow. How much does he know? But she paid him no more mind, and returned her attention to the plump woman next to him.

"What of the coast?"

That news is far more disturbing, Mother," the Aes Sedai said. "Well, not so much the war. The Light and everyone knows that Tear and Illian harbour no love for each other. The High Lords still sit in their marble halls, full of conceit and thinking they control events. Bah! It's the same word as ever. But we did here something on our way downriver. Just a rumour, but still…"

"Out with it, daughter," Tamra snapped.

"Mother, there are rumours of something off the coast of Illian. A great black fortress on an island, some say. None of the ships will go near it. It looks to be of the Dark One's own creation."

"The Dark One and all the Forsaken are bound in Shayol Ghul," the Amyrlin nearly growled under her breath.

Rina shrugged despite herself. "Just a rumour, Mother. You know how the Illianers are. More than likely, they're all full of too much wine and seeing things in the dark."

Shapes in the dark. Something in the shadows.

"Very well, daughter. You may return to your chambers. But first, send Anaiya to me. I would speak with her."

Rina bowed her head. "As you command, Mother, so shall it be."

The Green Sister turned to leave, but the Warder gave Tamra one last look before he followed her. The Amyrlin Seat could not tell what that look said, but she knew what it made her feel. Vengeance.

* * * * *

Servants and scullery maids scampered about the halls, but there was no one of any importance in sight. Rina was startled to see that the sun had risen well over the city and light shown in through the high windows. The carpet was blood-red, and tapestries hung on the wall. Depictions of everything from a forest-bed of flowers to an army of men fighting Trollocs in a shallow mountain pass. Torches were set in sconces along both walls of the corridor, but they would not be lit until later that night.

"Walk with me," she said.

Elyas fell into stride behind her, his dark eyes surveying everything while he pretended to notice nothing. He shifted his colour-changing cloak over his shoulder and checked to make sure that his sword was clear in its scabbard. "That woman is full of herself," he said.

Normally, Rina would have smacked him over the head for thinking such nonsense about the Amyrlin, but she ignored it this time. "She knows about you. It was as clear as day."

"Oh, really?" Elyas was only half-surprised. "They why aren't the Reds trying to gentle me?"

"I believe that to be her intention, in the end. Aes Sedai fear what they do not understand. But you and I both know it is not a thing of the Power. It is times such as these that make me wish I was a Brown. Still, I believe we may have forestalled her enough to buy you time to escape from the city. She has much to consider."

"Aes Sedai never lie," he quoted.

"And I did not, did I?" She smiled at him then, her first real smile that day. "Come. We must reach the stables quickly."

The truth of the matter was that while Rina had indeed told the Amyrlin of the foreign structure that shadowed the port of Illian, she had not said in what context. When and where. Such were indiscrepancies. The truth was that they had temporarily slipped into a parallel universe via a Portal Stone. Rina had been unable to calculate the date, but since there was no record of strange fortresses on the Sea of Storms, she reasoned that they were in the future. It was Elyas who had found the stone. The Aes Sedai had not realized what it was until it was too late.

The Stones were gray cylinders covered in hundreds of ancient characters, each one corresponding to another stone in the network. They served as teleportation devices through space and time. Those wielding the One Power could use them to travel to other realities or other possible timelines or simply other locations in the known world by channelling into the appropriate symbol.

The alternate timeline had almost made her wish she was a Brown. There had been so much to see, and to study. But need had fuelled her then, and time was short. It had taken all of her efforts to decipher the coordinates on the Stone and return them to their own timeline.

"Rina," the voice was cool and serene.

She brought herself out of distant memory and drew herself up to her full height, calmly gazing at the woman that had just rounded the bend in front of her. She was short, about the same height as herself, but her presence made her seem as if she were twenty feet tall. Her eyes were dark, but fiery, and her brown hair hung past her shoulders in ringlets, settling upon the blue silk of her dress. A small blue gem sat in the middle of her forehead, entwined in a thin golden chain in her hair.

"Moiraine," she greeted. "The Light illumine you. And you must be Lan."

It was not a question. The man had the build of a Warder, and his face seemed to be made of stone. His eyes were blue and fierce, and a thin cord held his long dark hair back from his face.

He bowed deeply to her. "Honour to Aes Sedai," he said.

"The Light illumine you as well, Gaidin. Elyas has told me much of you."

Lan straightened and eyed the other man sharply for a moment before stepping forward and clasping forearms with him. "It has been too long, friend."

"Tai'shar Malkier," Elyas growled.

Lan hesitated only slightly, but it did not show on his face. "Tai'shar Shienar," he replied. True blood of Malkier. True blood of Shienar.

"What brings you to the Tower, Rina Sedai?" Moiraine asked.

"Business with the Amyrlin. How goes things here?"

Moiraine's gaze hardened. "It grows worse by the day. The Black Ajah is plotting something. I can feel them. I wish Gitara were still here."

"Gitara Sedai died for a noble cause," Rina said soothingly. "Do not mourn the dead. It serves no purpose."

"Have you seen Siuan? I must speak with her."

"Siuan Sanche? I never thought that girl had it in her. I suppose spending the majority of your youth in the streets of Tear and the rest on a fisherman's boat does make one impervious to some wounds."

"Have you seen her?" Moiraine asked again.

"I have not, Moiraine Sedai. I apologize, but we really must be going. The Amyrlin has sent us on a mission of utter importance."

"Of course, Rina. I understand. Fare you well."

"The Light shelter you b—" Rina felt her jaw drop. Moiraine turned to stare. Their conversation had been so intent they had not noticed their Warders. Both had swords drawn, and Lan was calmly stepping in form.

"No, no, no," Elyas was saying. "Your feet are too heavy, boy. Are you trying to fall on your face? And straighten that blade! Light, an old man dying in bed wouldn't be threatened by you. Pick up your stance! Good. Better. Attack!"

There was a brief clash of metal and then…

"Too low, the Light blind you! What are you trying to do? Again. Heron Wading in the Rushes. Place your feet first!"

"Elyas!" Rina called. The Warder gave a start and turned toward her, resulting in Lan scoring a blow against his armour. The blade left not a mark. "Are you done humiliating the man? I'm sure Lan is perfectly capable. Moiraine would choose only the best, after all."

Elyas opened his mouth, but it was Lan who answered her. "We were only sparring, Aes Sedai," he said. "This man has taught me much. I owe him my life."

"Be that as it may, it is time for us to leave. Put away your swords, Gaidin. This is the Tower, after all. Some of the Reds would take any excuse at all to get their hands on a man, whether he could channel or not."

* * * * *

It was past noon and the sun was a blazing fireball as they approached the stableyard. The place was well-kept, and smelled faintly of wet hay. There had been a storm in the past week. Some of the horses rolled their eyes at them as they strolled leisurely down the line, searching for their mounts. Rina finally spotted them in a couple stalls far along the wall.

Elyas went to retrieve the tack and saddles from the stableman, leaving Rina there alone. She sighed inwardly, fingering the small pouch on her belt. She would do what had to be done, whatever the cost.

The Warder returned a short time later, grumbling to himself. "The man nearly set his hounds on me for waking him this time of day." He snorted. "It's high noon! I got away just in time."

Elyas saddled his horse and went about grooming the roan and wiping hay across its flanks. Then he did the same to her horse. Rina caught his arm when he had finished and spun him around to face her. "I cannot go with you," she said.

"What are you talking about? I'm bonded to you, 'til death takes me."

"Waylin will look after me in your absence. You trust him, yes? He is a good man."

He started to protest. "I won't leave you. Not like this."

"It is not for you to decide, my Gaidin." A curious sensation spread outward from the spot where her hand gripped him. It felt like cold water being trickled all over his body. He shivered inwardly, but his face gave no sign.

"What are you doing?"

"I have masked your bond to me. You will not notice the effects until you are further from me. You will no longer be able to detect me."

"Rina! I swore an oath to you! For life! Don't ask me to do this!" He slammed a fist into his other palm and glared down at her, outraged.

She ignored him, pulling a small object from the pouch at her belt. "Here, take this. You will need it."

He looked down at what she handed him. A small, age-darkened ivory carving of a wolf. His fingers closed around it.

"Your sa'angreal. I have no use for this. I cannot channel the Power."

"The use will come to you. In time. Now go."

Elyas clambered up into his saddle and looked down at her. His eyes were devoid of emotion. "I will find you, Aes Sedai. Be it by your wish or mine. I swear it."

He clicked his tongue and snapped the reins and the roan started forward. Rina watched his retreating back until the Warder was swallowed by the city. "I hope so," she whispered. "But I fear it may be too late."

* * * * *

Somewhere south of Whitebridge

Harry stepped over the torn and twisted body with a grimace of disgust. The creature was humanoid, but only vaguely. It was twice as big as he was, with a muzzle and a goat's horns jutting out of its head. Its armour was all of a crude design, and instead of boots, it had two hooves.

"Sectumsempra!" he bellowed and pointed his wand across the farmyard at the hulking form that stood there. Dark blood spurted from a ripped chest and the creature gave a howl of surprise before falling to the ground, writhing in death.

The night had come alive with beasts that belonged in the darkest recesses of his nightmares. The farmhouse was a shattered ruin. The creatures had been too many. He and Sirius had barely managed to escape outside themselves. Harry had not been able to rescue the farmer or his family. Not even the little girl.

It was that thought that spurred him onward toward the forest line, directing his wand at anything that moved in the shadows. "Stupefy! Incarcerous! Incendio!"

Ropes entangled one of the masses and sent it tumbling to the ground at the same time that flames leapt upon another, sending it shrieking into the darkness. Harry gave a smile of grim satisfaction.

"Reducto!"

The picket fence gave a sharp crack and blew apart several feet in front of him, granting him a straight path to the forest, and salvation. He ran forward, calling over his shoulder. "Sirius!"

And the great black dog was there at his side, darting out of the shadows and ripping out throats whenever shapes loomed out of the blackness. Harry felt the wind from a sword that almost took his head off, but Sirius dug his claws into the creature's back and brought it forcefully to the ground, gnawing at its face. The dog's teeth were slick with blood.

"Run to the forest! There's too many of them! Go!"

Harry followed his own advice, but he only managed to take a couple of steps before his foot got snagged in a tree root and he tumbled forward, his glasses flying into the darkness.

"AAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHH!"

His face made contact with the cold ground and his head reeled, but he was still conscious of the massive hoof two inches from his eyes. And the stench. He almost gagged from it. He tried to flip over onto his back and curse his attacker, but a sudden snarling sound followed by strange gurgling noises announced the behemoth's demise. Sirius had saved him again.

Harry flipped over to get a better look, and was surprised to see that it wasn't Sirius. His vision was blurred, but he could still make out the vague shape of the wolf beside the dead creature.

As far as he could tell, the wolf was looking at him, and he looked back for a long moment. Then other four-legged shapes were trotting out of the night to greet the first."

Twisted Ones dead. All dead.

What of the Neverborn?

Gone! Escaped!

Find him.

Suddenly his head felt like it was going to split open, and he heard, or rather, he felt thought in his mind that was not his own. This one is different. Take him to Long Tooth.

Harry had only a moment to puzzle out the meaning of this before another stab of pain swept over him and he lost consciousness, becoming one with the void.

_____

Author's Note: Comments, questions, praise, critique? ~