[Originally posted as Barid Bel Medar @ 21 January 1998]

Background story: After Nynaeve, Elayne, Aviendha and the rest used the Bowel of the Winds. They think Mat is dead, they were at the sun palace and from there sent to Illian. The point of view belongs to Aviendha. Characters: Rand, Min, Aviendha, Elayne, Birgitte, Lan, and Nynaeve.

The Story Part 1:

Letting the gateway disappear, Elayne trotted toward the king's rooms in Illian. The palace was dark, the drought that lasted so long finished. Aviendha was proud that she and Elayne Trakand were part of it, yet in Illian even winter was hot, not compared to Three-fold land, of course. Elayne quickened her step to almost running. Aviendha understood fully. She was away from Rand Al'Thor for about a month, yet she still had to fight the urge to run. Near the tall ornamented doors stood a dozen maidens, they recognized her, of course and opened a way for her. Handtalk flickering between them, Aviendha didn't even bother to look; Rand was behind those doors; that was all she could think of now. Elayne stared strait ahead, head high and eye full of determination, yet there was something in her that hinted of tensions, she doubt if any man would have seen it, they never seemed to.

Yet, she was sure that her first sister was on the brink from fear of what going to happen in here. She pushed the doors open and entered the chamber, Birgitte right on her heel, not even trying to hide a very amused grin. Nynaeve followed immediately and so did Lan, but as soon as they entered the room they stopped dead, goggling at the sight of it. The room looked like nothing Aviendha ever saw before and from the other's faces, they saw nothing like this either. Chairs and tables of unknown design hovered in the air seemingly without any thing to hold them, with colors and shapes that shouted of the one power, twisted and odd, a turning globe showed a map of nowhere that Aviendha knew, others things that she couldn't even recognize. Tied weaves of saidar cross the room, of fire and air and spirit, what they meant to do she had no idea. They looked... cut, twisted around something that just wasn't there. There was the only thing that could have describing this. Weaves that ended in the air, weaves that couldn't do anything, the way they were arranged and weaved all wrong. Everything she had ever learned told her that those weaves couldn't ever be created, saidar had done whatever you want it to as long as you remember that it was far stronger than you, but this.... Those weave looked as if somebody had forced its flow to shape against something that wasn't there. And the power that was needed to weave these flows, she was part of a circle of 13 once, when they had fixed the weather, and she doubted if they could have managed to reach a half of the power of those weaves. Yet that wasn't what stopped them, on the wall right in front of them, a painting of a man and woman hung in midair. The man, not young anymore but also not old, with brown hair and eyes, as tall as Rand, just short of handsome wearing breeches and coat in a strange fashion, all in shades of gray and brown; the ancient symbol on his breast shining as it caught the light, and the woman, in blue and green dress as odd as the man's clothes, with bright blue eyes and golden hair.
Both of them looking as happy as any human can be.

"She... she looks just like me" Elayne murmured in small voice. Now that she was looking, the woman truly looked like Elayne, only with self-confidence and certainty that could have matched any women that Aviendha ever met. If you would have took off these woman ten years or add ten to Elayne, they could have been mirror reflections. But that she thought in the small part of her mind that was not captured by the man's portrait, he looked nothing like Rand save maybe his height, yet there was something in him, something in the eyes that she couldn't pin down that she saw in her dreams every time she dreamed about Rand, somehow she was certain that he was Rand. The blood drained off her face, as she understood who he must be. When she looked at her friends, Elayne's eyes were as wide as they could go, she goggled at the man as she would have done had the creator appeared right here to have a chat. And Birgitte's face could make gai'shain's robes look like fade's, Nynaeve's jaw dropped to her chest and she hung on Lan as if he was the only thing that held her up. Only Lan looked unaffected by the portrait in front of them. He eyed it briefly and returned to his silent scan of the room. "Lord of the Morning, Prince of Dawn, Lews Therin Telamon, Lews Therin Kinslayer and Illyana Sunhair his wife, on their wedding day." Said a man's voice behind them, Rand's voice but in an accent she never heard before.

She spun back, reaching for saidar as she turned, the sweetness of the power held her up, helped her to stand straight. She felt Elayne and Nynaeve doing the same, Birgitte held a long knife in her hand and Lan's sword was in his hand. The voice was Rand's, in that she had no doubt, despite the strange accent, yet the man that was standing in front of her looked like the one on the picture behind her; not in the way he looked -his features was just as she remembered-but in the way he stood and walked. He somehow managed to combine the wolfish grace of a warder and the self-confidence of ten Aes Sedai without looking absurd. He had an air of arrogance around him and power, power of will that Aviendha had seen in a man and only on two women. Sorilea was one and the second was the Mistress of Ships. She had known him for little less than a year and even at the beginning he was hard, she watched him harden as the time passed, but this.... Face cold as winter and eyes that showed no human emotions. He scanned all of them briefly, yet Aviendha was sure that he missed not one single thing, from her dress to Birgitte's way of standing, which was like a wolf meeting another, not knowing if the other is a friend or an enemy. Shifting her feet uneasily; she remembered what the wise ones said about entering the world of dream in flesh. Right here she could have believed it easily.
Elayne started to move forward, gliding toward him and stopped short as he shifted those cold eye to her, gray blue eyes that could have overpowered Sorilea's best. They seemed to know all your secrets, all the things you held close to yourself. Plainly Elayne had felt the same, and more plainly was that she didn't like it one little bit. Yet, even with those unreadable face and eyes she could see that something happened to him, something very unpleasant. He aged in years in the few weeks since she left, lines of pain and grief grooved in his face, and his eyes looked as if he saw all the world agony, all the sorrow he could. Sadness imprinted in his eyes. He looked tired to death, arrogant as a mountain, and so beautiful that she wanted to take his head in her arms, to stare at him till the end of time.

He, though, payed her no attention, he fixed all his attention on Birgitte, face expressionless, eyes that revealed nothing, showed nothing of what he thought.
"Once, on Falme you told me that I always choose women that make me trouble," he said softly in that strange accent, "you were wrong, Birgitte. I never choose those whom I fall in love with. The wheel choose the price I get and the price I pay, never me."
Startled, Birgitte looked at him as if he had just grew a third eye. "How much do you remember, Lews Therin?" She asked just as softly, "How much of you is Rand Al'Thor and how much is Kinslayer?" Nynaeve and Elayne looked at her in surprise, they apparently understood no more than she did.

Rand Al'Thor did not even bother to answer her, instead he looked at Nynaeve in… it was hard to tell what it was exactly, respect and suspicion was minor but there was also scorn and amusement. That sent chill in her back and stabs of fear that turned her stomach to ice. She had known that he would go mad eventually, she had known that since the first time she saw him, yet he couldn't be mad, not yet. He couldn't, if the man let himself go mad before she even had the chance to tell him that she loved him she… she… she didn't know what she would do.
"Logain is on the black tower, Nynaeve, he can channel, in that there is no doubt nor there is doubt that he is Logain. He claims that you have healed him, have you done so?" was all he said.
That was the last thing Nynaeve ever expected him to ask and she met his look wide eyes and startled look; after a moment she nodded.
"Good, good news at last" he muttered and his lips twisted in something that was very close to a grin, it didn't touch his eyes, though. A gateway opened in the air, a line rotating in the air as it opened into a large clearing of trees and leaves. The half finished black tower, five hundred paces tall already, slender and shining black in the sun, a golden dragon wound around a silver sword on it side stoodbeyond the trees. Men and women trotted around, and she saw some Ogiers standing about. The men, from every place and country on this side of the spine of the world wore all black, sometimes with silver sword or golden dragon on the collar, moved around with deadly grace, wrapped in pride and arrogance like cloak, the only drop of color on them save the collar was one strip of color from shoulder to waist. In blue and red, gray and brown, yellow and white and green, all the ajahs colors, a green band was the most common there and about third of them in blue, yet there was also large numbers of brown and yellow and gray. Few wore a white strip and even fewer reds. The women, mostly wetlanders, yet she though she saw here and there two or three of Far Dareis Mai in cadin'sor, usually encircling men with green strips. They have heard rumors about this for a long time, she never had been there yet she recognized the Black Tower.
As if she had read her mind Elayne gasped and turned from the gateway to look straight at Rand Al'Thor, "This is the Black Tower, isn't it?" Fear and unbelief mixed in her voice, "This is the bloody Black Tower. But… this already almost as tall as the white one, and you going to make it twice as high, aren't you?"
Rand did not bother to answer the obvious answer, instead he turned to Nynaeve and ordered her to go there, in voice winter cold and anvil hard.
"Ask any asha'man with yellow strip to lead you to Logain. He will know what to do with you, some of the asha'man burn themselves out and I want you to heal them." He added, looking at Nynaeve he went on in a stronger voice if that was possible. "Nothing will harm you on the Black Tower unless you start it. And you will go eventually, and it will easier for both of us if you just agree." Turning to Lan he scanned the man for a moment, then added in a much friendlier voice "Keep an eye on her, Lan. Make sure she will watch her mouth and sit straight, if you will not do so one of my asha'man might decide that she might need to learn how to do it. I believe that your method will be … gentler to her than those of the guardians."

Nynaeve's eyes widened by the word and outrage shown on her face. She opened her mouth, no doubt ready to lecture what she thought about Rand Al'Thor's orders, when Lan touched her arm and whispered something that made her shut her mouth in embarrassment and blushed, she stepped trough the gateway furiously, hand clutching her skirt and knuckles white. The gateway closed in the moment she and Lan passed it, but she could see that Nynaeve addressed herself to a yellow striped asha'man, face paint with fury yet managing to keep herself under control. That was all she could see before the gateway closed the view. Aviendha stared at Rand stunned, Nynaeve wasn't the sort of women who reacted to orders from any man that way. She half expected Nynaeve to snap his head off. For that matter she wasn't sure herself if she meant for Rand or Lan.
When she shifted her eyes to Rand again the cold disappeared, the lack of humanity was gone. She thought that she might want the coldness again, fury was clear on his face and strangely also relief. In three long stride he closed the distance between him and Birgitte, right hand raising as if to hit her, the dragon on his arm glittering as it caught the lamps' light. Birgitte stepped away from him, tried to anyway. Something seemed to seize her as Rand put his fingers on her forehead, Elayne and Birgitte gasped at the same time, as if thrown into hot water.
"What are you doing to her?" Elayne asked in anger. Birgitte was her warder after all. And the glow of saidar surrounded her. "What are you doing, Rand Al'Thor? Answer me, burn you!"
Rand answered with only part of his mind on the words, whatever he was doing to Birgitte taking his full attention. "I want to know if she if still bond to -" He cut off suddenly, cursing in low angry tone. He took his fingers away from Birgitte as she collapses on the floor. Rand channeled to lift Birgitte and than dropped her gently on a settee all in colors of green and brown. Birgitte looked as if she hadn't slept for a week, every drop of energy gone from her body. As soon as she touched the settee her eyes closed, her breath slowed, she seemed to sleep peacefully
"I rebound her, Elayne. That is all, not an easy thing to do, not for her nor for me." And he indeed looked just slightly better than Birgitte.
"Come" He said and went to a door that Aviendha hadn't noticed. They followed him after a moment of quick and wary conversation.
"Something is wrong with him, Aviendha. He talks like Moghedien did, and the way he moves…" Elayne whispered to her and shivered. Aviendha looked at her in surprise, the possibilities of that freezing her. She watched Rand changing from day to day since the day he came to the Three-Fold Land, yet he changed much since she saw him first.

Then she trotted after him frowning, she meant to find answers to this if it will kill her, or him! Elayne followed her with the same expression as she had.
The room Rand lead them to was full of furniture gild in gold and silver, large opened windows chilled the room. The moon shining brightly through one, silvery light and shadows covered the room; beside the moon the only light there was a large ball that shine with a light of its own. Inside three bracelets laid. One, made of ivory and ebony, for a man's hand, dozens symbols in black and white on it, each like the symbol on the crimson banner of light, made a chain about a inch or two wide. The two others were for women's hands, one of ruddily metal and ivory that creates the white lion of Andor on a red field. The second, of ivory too, the one who made this bracelets seemed to like ivory, was a simple circle at first look yet when you look at it again there were carvings on it, black on the ivory white, a thousand symbols too small to be done by anything save the power covered it. Each almost invisible unless you stare right on it, circling around its length.

A sleeping pretty young woman laid on the bed, naked arm and shoulder sticking out of the sheet, brown hair not much longer than her covered her face. By Elayne description it could be only the Min woman she hasn't meet yet. Elayne's face tried to match the sun, and for her felt like two or three. There could be no doubt at the reason that a young woman would lay naked on Rand's bed.
Anger and jealousy babbled up in her mind, she slept many night near Rand Al'Thor, listening to his breathing and every night she had to force herself to stay on her blankets, not to move into Rand's arms. Every night that she had to spend around him was a torture she could barely stand in. Every night she dreamed of what had happened between them after she opened the gateway to the storm, and this… this woman entered right into Rand's bed. Jealousy showed on Elayne face too yet she controled it, barely but she did. A thing that was wonder to Aviendha as much as the snow once had. Elayne controled herself far better than she ever could. She agreed to share Rand. She wouldn't give the smallest part of him to anyone if she had the choice yet Elayne and this Min had part of him too. She agreed, yet it was hard. Rand stood in front of Min, waking her gently.
Min opened her eyes lazily staring at him and mumbled something about the hour and that she was too tired to do anything save sleeping, but when she opened her eyes and saw her and Elayne, her cheeks went crimson. Yet even so she rised smoothly, though her face looked as if might burst in flame any moment, she let the sheet fall and trotted to a wardrobe and dressed herself quickly.
If her cheeks reddened before now they felt like fire, Min wasn't naked as she thought at first. Aviendha believed that if she was naked it will be more modest than the way she dressed. She was in Ebuo Dar and she heard Elayne and Nynaeve talking about the dress that women wear in Tarabon and in Arad Doman, yet what Min wore could have made a blind man blush from a mile. Some sort of shift that left the arms and shoulders exposed, and that end high above Min's knees, very high. The cloth hid nothing, offered every thing.

"I heard that blushing is good to the skin," Rand said in amusement poorly hidden. "But don't you think you carry it too far." His cheeks haven't even redden, while all the three of them were blushing furiously. The hardness in his face remained, yet his eyes weren't cold any more. He grinned at Min in more than fondness; eyes full of love, but he directed the same toward her and Elayne.
A tray with wine cups rose from a table on the far side of the room, flying to Rand's side who took one of them and sent the tray toward her. Aviendha snatched one of the cups from the tray and drank deeply from it. Much changed in Rand when she wasn't here. Yet the only thing that she could think of was that he loved her, he was so cold toward her before she left that since the moment when Elayne told her they could share him she wasn't sure whatever he loved her still or not. The look on his face and more important the expression in his eyes told her that he did.

"We should talk." He said as soon as crimson Min finished to tie the lace of her shirt. She eyed Min curiosly when they began to talk, she still wished she could have worn cadin'sor, and breaches and shirts should be more comfortable than dresses to her. Then Rand began to talk, and all thoughts of clothes flew right over her head, he talked in soft voice, the strange accent that Elayne claimed to come from the age of legends strong as he talked.
What he told made her seat stiffly, yet from the corners of her eyes she saw stunned expressions on Min and Elayne faces, what she felt made stunning look like a scratch compared to a death wound. Drinking more from the wine she leaned forward to listen to Rand.
 

The Story Part 2:

(Point of view belongs to Elayne. Characters: Various asha'man, Logain, Rand, Elayne, Min, Aviendha, Nynaeve, Lan, Ogiers and maidens)

Elayne still felt dizzy, and the wine had only little part on it. Despite the promise she made for herself never to drink again more than one cup of wine, last night she hadn't even noticed how much she was drinking. The excitement of finally seeing Rand again, and what he told them, made her ignore any thing save him. That he learned from Asmodean was as big shook as learning what Allanna had done to him. Yesterday he talked about what happened to him since the moment he saw Moiraine in the first time, talking in a quite voice, half to himself. He told her about the eye of the world and the green man, about Falme and Ishmael hunting him in his dreams, about callandor and saidin, the taint and the confusion that the letters she gave him caused him, he talked about the great sa'angreals and Lews Therin, that was really shocking to learn. That a three thousand years dead madman talked to him; tried to take his body away from him. Talking till the sun climbed high in the sky and until his throath dried. He told them about the forsakens and Lanfear's offer, about Aviendah's death and how he erased Rahvin's actions, about love and hate, being what he was and who he was. Baring his soul to them as he had done to no one, he spoke about his fears and hope, every thing he felt or though, revealing everything, hiding nothing. The only thing he refused to talk about was the time he was prisoner in the Tower Aes Sedai's hands. That he passed quickly, only mentioning it before he continued, he wasn't ready to talk about it and when she tried to push him to telling them what happened there Min stopped her, whispering that she would tell her what happened there later. He trusted them fully, that was clear, what was also clear from what he said was that he would do anything they asked. That bothered her almost as much as Allanna's bond.

Men weren't supposed to act that way. That he told them that he would do anything for them was warming, but … She was not sure why she didn't like it, maybe it was that he bared his soul to them. Letting them enter to places he won't let himself see and expect nothing in exchange was what it was. When Aviendha started talking about her life he looked… stunned, as they were when he talked. But at the same time she noticed that he didn't expect this, he was glad that they trusted him enough to talk to him as he talked to them, he was stunned by this.
Trying to understand why was beyond her, and though she knew that he would answer her questions if she asked him she just couldn't ask him this. The bracelet on her wrist caught the light as she held her arm up so she could look at it. It wasn't a real bracelet, of course, but a ter'angreal that made from saidin. The lion of Andor from ivory on a field of red blood metal. These created something very close to the Aes Sedai warder link, only stronger, and there were others on the linking. She could feel the taint on saidin sinking into Rand as he opened a gateway into the black tower, feel the wound on his side. The wound that Healing had done nothing about. Feel that he loved her and Min and Aviendha, feel the love that beamed from Min and Aviendha. Feel every thing about them just if they were her warders. The bracelet on Rand's arm covering the dragon on his forearm was made of an inch wide chain, each link in the shape of the ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai on the age of legend. And the one on Min was an ivory circle - Rand apparently liked ivory very much; he was the one who made all these bracelets - carved with symbols that appear on stone portals. Rand claimed that they represented all the ways the pattern worked. Though he didn't seem able to explain it. The bracelet on Aviendha wrist was her old ivory bracelet of roses and thorns, Rand had some talent in making ter'angreal, he tried to explain her how he did it, but she was ready to admit that her knowledge didn't get close to Rand's in that area. Memories from his life as Lews Therin Telamon carried him farther than she believed she would reach in her lifetime, though she had the stronger talent in making ter'angreal.

Of course, some of the things they told was just as big surprise. Like that Aviendha had known that she was going to fall in love with Rand after the time she entered Rhuidean. Or what Min told her and Aviendha later about what the Aes Sedai had done to Rand. For herself she told them about tel'aran'rhiod and Birgitte, Rand apparently already knew and Birgitte agreed to let her tell Min and Aviendha two days ago. She glanced at the warderess, sleeping on the bed, the ring hold tightly on her hand. She was in tel'aran'rhiod doing something for Rand.
Rand, wearing black as the asha'man, with golden dragon and a silver sword on his collar. Green wide strip from right shoulder to the left side of his waist. For some reason he grinned at the strip as much as he grinned at them. Amuse for unknown reason. Or it might be the madness.
A sickening filling from Rand reminded her that he would go mad eventually if she could ever forget about that. Aviendha on his heels and she and Min on either side he went through, hundreds of miles cover in one step.
Not the madness, Elayne. Not yet. That wasn't her thought. One of the strange things about the bracelets was that they carried thoughts through the link, strong thoughts only, yet it was frightening to hear Rand's thoughts answering hers.
Aviendha looked at them oddly, she could hear the thoughts too, of course, but she would never let herself be worried about something she could do nothing about. Min on the other hand, looked as if the reminder of Rand's and every man-channeling path wasn't welcome.
She turned away to look on the black tower, yesterday she was able to see only little part of it through the gateway. A half build tower, six hundreds pace tall ruled the view, a dragon wound itself on a silver sword on its side, both at least hundred feet tall and half a wide. The tower was already one of the tallest building in the world, and if she wasn't missing her guess completely the asha'man meant to add to this building at least two hundreds paces. She knew that Rand had probably gathered every man who could learn to channel on the lands between the Arith ocean and the spine of the world, but these… she counted at least eight hundreds men in black, nearly twice that number women and children, she even thought she saw a few aiel women among them.
"All those in black are asha'man." Rand said, pride in his voice. "And any man a weapon."
Aviendha nodded in appreciation, that also came from the part in her mind where Aviendha took space. But Min shivered and Elayne barely stopped herself from doing the same. Men channeling were a thing of nightmare, and now there were eight hundreds of them. The breaking was caused by men, male Aes Sedai who had gone mad because of the taint on saidin. Because of the actions of Lews Therin Kinslayer and the hundred companions on the slopes of Shyol Ghul.
Don't you think I blame myself enough? Rand's voice whisper sadly in her mind. Every day is pain for me, for each one who dies I bled. For any man that has gone mad because of the taint I cried. Yet if I had to do it again I would, knowing what will happen. If I have to kill again those I love, I will do it. I have done so more times than I can count; I will do so as long as the wheel turns. To the end of time. He started walking quickly, toward the half finished tower, Min and Aviendha with him, Elayne followed them after a moment shuddering. She didn't like being forced to remember that Rand was Lews Therin, that he remembered his life as Lews Therin Telamon. Trying hard to think about something else she scanned the men in front of her. Each clad in black, grim faces and wrapped in pride. Carrying a sword on hip or back, they moved like warders, with the arrogance of a king with an army on his heels.
One of the strange things she noticed was that every man wore the same wide strip, in all the ajahs colors. Blue and red and white and gray, Green and brown and yellow. About half of than wore green strips, about a third carry a blue one, the rest split more or less equally, only the red strips were rare, only a dozen men or so wore them.
"What do the color mean, Rand Al'Thor?" Aviendha asked softly, she watched the men with flat eyes only the small knot of emotions in Elayne's head told her that her friend was uneasy. Rand to her surprise didn't looked as stone faced as he usually was near other people save the three of them, in fact he looked more… free than she saw him around other people.
"Just like the Aes Sedai's ajahs, they use different methods, of course, and there is no limit to the number of warderess you can bond. The colors are created to reflect what they support of, the greens are usually lechers, most of the blues are married, yellows heal, browns think too much, whites live in the void and the grays negotiate." Suddenly he barked with laugher. " Once a gray toldl his warderess to shut up or he would turn her into a chicken and eat her. She hadn't believed him of course, so he took her into tel'aran'rhiod and turned her, he didn't eat her, of course, but since then she refused to even look at birds." He finished with a wide grin, amusement in his voice. Aviendha burst out laughing and Min grinned, but Elayne didn't see anything laughing in that. If the asha'man could enter the world of dreams… she needed to tell Egwne about that, to warn all the Aes Sedai who followed Egwene, if one of them would find herself in front of an asha'man she would probably try to shield or kill him, without thinking twice about that he was stronger than her, and that unless she entered the world of dreams in the flesh because of the ter'angreal she was using she couldn't channel strong enough to scratch the man.
"What about the reds, Rand?" That was Min, she glanced at Elayne and a thought came to her. You can do nothing about it now, and I doubt if those women will listen to reason. Elayne laughed in spite of herself. Min described the Aes Sedai perfectly.
Rand smiled at that exchange of thoughts and answered Min's questions, save the grin he seemed to ignore what she thought.
"The reds study the taint. Not the loveliest thing to do; they try to prevent another breaking. Though like the rest of the asha'man they use other method. You will not notice much of them here, almost all of them are in the white tower now." Elayne tripped on flat ground and would have fallen if Rand hasn't catched her arm, stunned shock was the only thing that reached to her through the bracelet, two sets of emotions that duplicated each other, and third one from which no emotion reached her.
Rand rose his hand the brand heron on his palm showing, forestalling all the questions they were about to ask, and changed. A woman stood in front with blue eyes and golden hair, she look like her, yet… she wasn't able to pin down how this woman was different, only that it was a reflection of her, and the reflection looked much more beautiful than she. Startling even more was a sense of kinship for the woman, the same as she felt for Aviendha, the sense of a woman that can channel.
Rand returned to his own appearance, which was much better than the illusion.
"No one in the tower will recognize them." Rand said coldly, the lack of emotion fade slowly from the place that Rand's emotions were.
"We need ter'angreals, Min. And knowledge, they both exist inside the white tower." This time his voice warmer.
A figure started glowing about a hundred feet from them, the glow of a woman touching saidar she and Aviendha exchanged looks, as far as they knew Nynaeve was the only woman that could channel in the black tower. She wasn't so sure about to how to think to the other yet she formed the thought and directed it to the little knots of emotions in the back of her head. A little like what she was doing if she was wearing an a'dam bracelet and tried to make the woman with the collar feel something. Wait here a moment, I'm going to check this. Aviendha and Min stayed where they were, but Rand's hand suddenly lied on her shoulder. Stopping her short before she managed to step more than two steps.
"I've told you I will not let you die, woman. Do you think that you would have survived that long in here without being on my side. " he growled at her angrily.

Both thing were true she supposed, he told them that the only thing that he would not do if they asked was to watch them die, which came right after he told them why he had no intentions to marry them. She had to admit that his reasons were good, the forsakens, the black ajah, Padan Fain and the Dark One would not rest if they knew that there was some way to hurt Rand, and killing his wife or turning her to the shadow would be a good way to do so. And as for her surviving without him, see thought that this was true too, she saw few of those men looking at her, cold eyes like hawks at a mouse. "If Nynaeve is safe here so do I." She told him in her best regal voice, which did no impression on him. Love is more addictive than the one power, and more dangerous than surrendering to saidin. Always remember that, Elayne, always. he thought to her. The only emotions that reached her from him were anger and fear, both for her she was sure. Aviendha and Min were a few paces away talking to each other urgently. "What do you mean, Rand?" she asked loudly. She really didn't like others' thoughts in her head, even if they were of Rand and Min and Aviendha. She meant that for the quote he thought to her, yet he decided to misunderstand the question.

"Fifty Aes Sedai attacked the black tower a week ago, with thousand soldiers. I've lost fifteen asha'man in this, only three of them were soldiers and one dedicated. Eleven trained asha'man died there, men worth ten times their weight in gold. Anybody in here know that you are Aes Sedai, and those aren't welcome here. You would be lucky if you managed to open a gateway and run in time. If not… you might be stilled or dead! Do you understand that! Do you! I will not have you killed for being too proud! " He spoke quietly and urgently, every word with enough power behind it to make Suian obey to him without hesitations. She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought about that last remark of him. He wore pride like a cloak and arrogance was a term too little to describe the way he acted. Then a familiar face looked at her. A man with black long hair and broad shoulders, scorn in his eyes that never touched the face, Logain. He disappeared after a moment in the crowd, before she could regain enough breath to speak.

[Originally posted as Barid Bel Medar, with the aid of Lanfir @ 20 December 1999 {my birthday} ]

Part one deals with Lews Therin, Lanfear and Ilyena, the second with the War of Power itself. Unlike I expected, it was much easier to write the first part than the second. Usually, I have a fix starting point, and all the freedom I want to make the end. In this story, I had all the freedom in the start and the middle, only the end I couldn't change. And this I don't like. I asked many time why everything in the Wheel of Time seemed to go well (for the main characters, at least). Now I know why RJ didn't make tragedies so far, They are too painful to write. I love this characters, and I haven't sweated on making them live just so I could kill them. I hate the way this story end, and I mean really hate it. But when I let you choose the stories I also promised that I would write them. So here it is. For your pleasure. I hope you will enjoy it.

As a note: This is the largest story I ever wrote, save my PoD prologue. And I suspect that it can be considered as the best. Or at least I hope so.

Thanks to Lanfir (no, it is not a typo, that is how she named herself.) for writing Lanfear's part. Female point of views are the hardest for me to do. And her stories were a great help understanding Lanfear. And more than help enough in writing the second part of the story. And of course, I entered the stories she wrote into the story. I truly hope you will enjoy her work, and mine.

Please read this before you will read the story. This is important to the understanding of the story.

Timing:

Lews Therin and Lanfear were lover when they were young, "but he could remember that woman [Lanfear] in his arms, while they were still young and learning what they could do with the power." (The Fires of Heavens, Gateways.) I assumed that both Lanfear and Lews Therin found that they can channel between 10-25. If we'll assume that the training take ten years. The same as in the White Tower. Since I think that in the Age of Legends they taught much faster and better. And that both Lews Therin and Lanfear were good at what they were doing. (Since it usually take ten years to a girl to reach the Shawl. But Elayne could reach the shawl in a year, since she was so strong.) Both Lanfear and Lews Therin are stronger than Elayne by far, they would have study fast. But since they had to learn so much more... I assume it's ten years. From this we can safely assume that they were lovers when they were 20-30. The Guide say that they were lovers for "some years" (The Guide, The Female Forsakens and the darkfriends, Lanfear.) Since people live much longer in the Age of Legends I would have said that it's about 100-200 years. The Guide also state that Lews Therin married Ilyena fifty years before the War of Power. And in the Eye of the World's prologue we see that Lews Therin is in his middle age. For Aes Sedai at his strength, that mean something between 450-550 years. This mean that he spent close to 150 years before marring Ilyena after he left Lanfear. Let assume that he met her 20 years before marrying her. That was what I based about the timing when I wrote the story. I know it's long. But consider that normally, Aes Sedai could live up to 600-700 years. And the strongest they were, the longest they lived. Lews Therin was the strongest man ever save Ishmael who was in the same strength.

Characters: [Most of what is written here came from the Guide. The rest taken from the books.]

Lews Therin: he was a politician, held many offices with great success and wrote many good books.
Barid Bel Medar: Demandred's true name. Always followed Lews Therin, always a step behind. He never bested Lews Therin in anything. And was always angry about it.
Mierin Eronaile: Lanfear's true name. She was a researcher in the Sharom, she was the one who found out how to open the bore in the Dark One's prison.
Duram Laddel Cham: Bel'al's true name. Some kind of a lawyer.
Tel Janin Aellinsar: Sammael's true name. A sportsman.
Elan Morin Tedronai: Ishmael's true name. Great philosopher.
Ared Mosinel: Rahvin's true name. He was a pretty man and did nothing worth mentioning.
Lillen Moiral: Moghedien's true name. She was an investment advisor.
Saine Tarasind: Mesaana's true name. She was a teacher, more than reason enough to hate her.
Nemene Damendar Boann: Semirhage's true name. The best healer of the body.
Kamarile Maradim Nindar: Graendal's true name. The best healer of the mind.
Joar Addam Nessosin: Asmodean's true name. He was a good musician.
Eval Ramman: Balthamel's true name. A historian and a lecher. He was better in the latter.
Ishar Morrad Chuain: Aginor's true name. He was a biologist that couldn't live with the limits that he had to work under.
Latra Posae Decume: Lews Therin's rival in the Hall. Responsible to the lack of female in the attack on the bore. She was the one who came up with the great sa'angreals idea. And didn't approved Lews Therin's plan because she thought it was too dangerous.

Mierin sometimes saw him in the hallways when she went to class for study, in the Great Library or in the Dining Hall. And every time she felt that her heart missed a beating. What it was about him, she did not know, but she terribly attracted to him. He seemed a few years older than she was — she just reached twenty a few weeks ago — and was very tall and had those intense dark eyes that somehow made her melt inside. He was just wonderful! Sometimes, when she laid in bed, exhausted after a day of intense study of the One Power, she thought about how it would be to kiss and hold him and to… to share her bed with him.

His name was Lews Therin, she found out soon after she laid her eye on him, and he was one of the best students the school had had in many years. He was believed to be one of the strongest male channelers ever, maybe even equal to the great philosopher Elan Morin himself. When Mierin noticed that, she got her eye even more fixed on him. There was more than one reason to be interested in him.

He was usually in the company of another man in his age, quite short of handsome. The other man was named Barid Bel. He was quite interesting too, he was just below Lews Therin in everything. But Lews Therin was her first choice. He made her feel like a foolish girl when their eyes met. It happened to many times to be coincidence, and he always had that smile on his face when he looked at her. She was used to be looked at, she knew she was pretty, even beautiful, but the way Lews Therin looked at her made her feel weak inside. She thought she was close to fainting when he greeted her once, when they passed each other in a hallway. A red color burnt at her cheeks, and she had difficulties this time with smiling at him in the way that had the most disastrous impact on men. She never had that before, it was the other way around, always!

She had never been shy before, but somehow she just did not dare to speak with him. She had several boyfriends of course, before she found out she could channel, and at the University she had even more boyfriends, and she was always wanted. But somehow, she seemed afraid to be denied by this Lews Therin, he was so perfect. She couldn't survive a denial from him.

"You are really in love with Lews Therin, aren't you?" Lillen teased her often. She shared her room with Lillen Moiral for quite a while now, and although she did not really like the girl, and she supposed it was also the other way around, they often exchanged secrets in the dark, when they were supposed to sleep. "And you do not even know the guy! I mean, you never really talked…"

At that point, Mierin got always angry at herself. Why did she behave like an fool for him! She was a adult now, there was no need to act childish or even girlish anymore! Even as a girl she wasn't that foolish, certainly not because of any man. But him...

Yet, nothing happened for a few months, until Mierin had her exams, and graduated. Graduated with extremely high scores, to be honest. She was more than proud of it, because now she could pass on to other classes - the highest. No single female under twenty-five had ever managed that, and only five male ever did it. Elan Morin Tedronai, Barid Bel, Ishar Morrad, Tel Janin, and Lews Therin, of course. Her teachers called her extremely talented with the One Power, she was supposed to be the strongest female Aes Sedai ever. They all admired her somehow, but she was kind of used to be admired. She was admired since she was the age of five. But most of the time people admired her body, not her power. She was flattered by that. She could have never describe her feeling in the moment of graduation.

At her graduation ceremony, a handsome man suddenly appeared out of the crowd where people congratulated and hugged each other. It turned out to be Barid Bel, the eternal company of Lews Therin, this was only the third time she didn't saw him without Lews Therin. "Yes," he said admirably. "you must be Mierin Eronaile. No other woman fit this description. Congratulations with your passing." She actually blushed. And smiled at him in her sweetest way, and saw contently the disastrous effect on his face when she thanked him. She was used to it, but it amused her every time when a man was out of balance because she merely smiled at her. Barid Bel recovered quickly, and they chatted for a while, nothing important. "Would you like to join our study group? Only the best are allowed to join us, and your score is among the highest ever." The question had surprised her totally. She hadn't expected that, The Study Group was famous in the lower classes, and the higher. She always dreamed to join them, but always thought herself unworthy, she was good, but was she that good?

"I'd be honored. Who are in?" She said, already knowing the answer. Every one knew it. For every other study group you had to ask. But Lews Therin's study group was the Study Group. For those who were truly the best.

"Well, me, Lews Therin… do you know him?" She nodded, and he went on, "Duram Laddel, Tel Janin, Kamarile Maradim, Nemene Damendar, Joar Addam … we are studying hard and intense, but it can be real fun. So, are you in?"

"Of course I am. What are you studying at the moment?" She asked, it didn't matter, had they could have study anything, as far as she was concerned. The chance to meet Lews Therin daily... And it would be more than honorable to join The Study Group.

"Milking of Tears. Lews Therin and I are working on a real good essay. Tel Janin and Nemene Damendar are studying on something that has to do with Healing and muscles… I don't really know exactly what they are planning to find out, but I am certain it is interesting. They have had certainly enough rows and discussions about it already…" Barid Bel smiled faintly, and he looked really handsome smiling, the smile made up for the lack of beauty in his face. Had her attention wasn't already focused on Lews Therin, she might have chosen him. "But anyway, we will be in the Great Library tomorrow night. I'd like it to see you there."

"I'll be there," she promised. "I promise I will." She was surprised the feeling of giggling that bubbled inside her stomach and smiled back at him. "I am already looking forward on it."

As soon as she was alone in her room, she danced it around excitedly, singing and jumping in delight, until Lillen appeared in the room and asked that she was doing for Light's sake. Mierin told it to her, laughing and still dancing with excitement, and Lillen congratulated her, and told her just as excited that she passed her exams too, and that she was allowed to be in the classes Mierin had just left. And because she was three years younger, it was quite a good thing. Mierin was one of the brightest and fastest students, and she had finished those classes in two and a half years. She knew she was stronger in using the One Power than Lillen, so she was very happy for her. They talked the whole night about the things Mierin had learned in the classes she had left, about the wielding of Spirit and about tel'aran'rhiod. Lillen was very curious about it, she just could not wait to enter the Unseen World.

The talking about tel'aran'rhiod gave Mierin an idea; that night she entered Tel'aran'rhiod and looked for Lews Therin's dreams. It took a while before she found it and managed to have a look on it, he had shielded his Dream, although it was not a very strong shield. Only enough to warn people that he don't want others to watch at his dreams. But she ignored it, curiosity overcame her. She spied on his dreams, who were quite blurred and confusing, but found to her surprise that she herself was part of many of them. There was even a dream of she and Lews Therin kissing each other, though he dreamed of kissing another girl too. Kamarile Maradim, to be more precisely. A sudden change in the dream told her that he was aware of what she was doing. And she fled before he could recognize her. Pain and fury burned inside her, she was jealous. Light, being jealous already. He is not even mine yet. But I will… I will make him mine!

There was a determined look on her face when she woke that night. And she barely passed the day without any events. As night fell, she was already in the Great Library for three hours. Ready to join the Study Group.

Within three months, she managed to gain both his respect and eyes. She succeed in making him lose interest in that Kamarile quite quickly. She even got him so far that he left the study about Milking of Tears to Barid Bel, and instead studied with her on Compulsion! Honestly, she had very much impact on him. She made him write an essay on Compulsion and forced him to get his name on it, instead of her, as he suggested. When he protested it was just a work on science and that it did not needed his name on it, she pushed through that it would bring honor on him. She smiled at him, no men could ever resist that, "You'll gain a lot of honor on this school when you publish this, Lews Therin. Don't you want to be honored?"

He did it. He did what she wanted, and gained indeed even more honor than he had before. At that moment, she was sure about it. He liked her, and possibly more than that. Now he was ready for the period of seducing… a period that did not take longer than a few days. He didn't seemed to resist her wishes.

When she woke up on a sunny morning lying in his arms, triumph flooded through her veins and she wanted to scream in pleasure. His arms around her were soft, yet strong, and his smell was all around her. She looked at him, so beautiful in face and in body, and was filled with an other feeling; tenderness and love. Light, she thought amazed. I really love him!

She touched his face softly and murmured to herself: "You are perfect, Lews Therin. Perfect." He was sweet, intelligent and skilled in everything, from channeling to making love… He indeed was a very good lover, she thought with a faint smile. She made it. She actually did it. She could hardly believe it. She laughed in herself, very pleased with herself and the world. Her laugh waked him up. He opened his eyes and looked at her, and his tender, dark brown eyes were softer than she ever seen before... "Good morning, Mierin." he said in that warm, rich voice of him.

"Good morning for you too, Lews Therin," she said with still that faint smile. How she was fond of him!

"You're always more beautiful when you are smiling at me like that," he said and kissed her. The kiss was tender in the beginning, but as it took longer, it became more and more passionate, until they forgot all about the rest of the world and managed to get too late for their classes that day. When they noticed that a while later, a long while later, they decided to skip them entirely and spend the whole day in Lews Therin's quarters. The sunlight fell through the window, shattered in pieces of white, pure light. Dancing all over the room. So beautiful, so peaceful. Mierin had never been so happy and full of love before. He is mine, she thought several times that day. He is finally mine. And he will be mine forever.

The man stood erect, the sword in his hand blazed as he drove away his opponent's sword. Saidin pulsed in him, empty off emotion he float insidek'doi, the oneness, only saidin filled him, but it was enough. More than enough. He draw almost as much as he could from the power, his skin tingle, and his bones seemed to be on the point of breaking. But the sword he channeled was held steadily in his hand, shining in blue fire, leaving trail of light in the air as it moved. The red blood sword followed his moves, as fast as he was and faster. No blade touch flesh, but every move was followed by the clash of swords, and blue and red lightning appeared each time the swords touched. The parting of silk met the charging bear, and he attack low, but the other man met his attack with a speed that was more than any human can hope for. He doubled his speed, and doubled it again, and still the other man stood in it easily. He grinned to himself, though emotions was more than distance when he held saidin. His foe attacked, the rose falling, simple attack, easy to defend against. But he didn't defend himself, instead his sword darted forward, all his strength and speed behind it, it sank into the man's chest, where his heart was. It cost him, of course, the red sword slashed across his face, and the trail passed through one eye. He moved back and released saidin, the battle was over.

"A good fight." He said.

The other man simply snorted; his hand touching his chest, where a blue circle began to fade. Lews Therin himself saw through red blood screen, but he had won, and it felt good. The swords were weaves of saidin, fire and air, they could pass through anything, save another sword made by saidin. It was much better that the wooden swords the books said were once in use as a training sword. Now, even those who couldn't channel could use ter'angreal if they wanted to learn how to use a sword.

"In a real battle, Lews Therin," Duram Laddel said, "you would have been dead. I cut open your head."

"There was no real battle for more than seven thousands years, Duram Laddel." He signed, sometimes he though that the man actually wanted to return to those days. Only the books left from that violent age, and only a madman would want to live in that time. If the books were to believe, human fought against Aes Sedai for the entire age. They were not really Aes Sedai, but men and women channeling, whatever the name they called themselves, weren't suppose to enslave the rest of the human race. At the end, after all but constant war that lasted more than two thousands years, they reached an agreement, and the Aes Sedai were established.

It was ironic, actually. The titled itself was honored, he was pride that he was called Lews Therin Telamon Aes Sedai. But the books said that another war almost started for the name alone. What was wrong with Servants for All? He wondered, everybody was a servant, in one way or another. And it was honor to serve, the more you could serve the more honored you were. Maybe it wasn't so in the age before this. No book mention it, so few survived the turning of the Wheel. And seven thousands years was a long time.

"Sometimes I wish..." Duram Laddel's voice faded as he shoke his thoughts off, "Don't you ever wish to live where you can do something interesting for a change?"

Lews Therin blinked at him, "I have my studies, and my duties, isn't this enough? What more can I wish for?"

"Bah," The man sighed, "it's useless to talk with you about it, you know. You're too well tamed."

Lews Therin throw back his head and laughed at that, "Have you talked with Mierin lately, Duram Laddel?" He asked, he could laughed at it, now, "You sound much like her."

He left her more than one hundred and eighty years ago, but it took more than a century until he finally finished regretting about it. Mierinwas the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, or would see. But from the start he had wondered why she had chosen him, he knew himself good enough to know that he was no more than handsome. She was far more than that. He would have expected her to choose Ared Mosinel, they would be a fine couple. Both were far more beautiful than any human being deserved to be. He had heard several woman complaining about it, Ared Mosinel could make a seven hundred years old Aes Sedai to behave like a girl after her first kiss, and the light know that Mierin did it to him long enough. He wasn't seven hundreds years old, of course, he was barely twenty five when he first knew her, and fifty seven when he left her. After more than ten years of doubts. She always wanted him to be more ambitious, and more than once he suspected her wanting him only to reach a higher power. From the start he was marked as special. His strength in the power was equal by Elan Morin alone. He liked the man, though philosophy wasn't really something he was ever interested in. And he had a variety of talents to amaze his oldest teacher. To rose envy in more than one man, or woman.

The grimace at the thought was so fierce that Duram Laddel took a step back, "You were the one who left her, Lews Therin. And she would have you the instant you would want her. So I talked to her, what is the story? I thought you weren't interested in her anymore. Beside, it was more than one hundred years ago. Even in the way we count time it was long time ago."

"Never mind, Duram Laddel, it wasn't you I was angry about. Come, it's time for dinner." He said, he had done nothing to arose this envy, one could only live with what he was born with, and he was born to be one of the two strongest men in the entire world. And he had talents in almost every known field, from Cloud Dancing to Earth Singing, and from Healing to Compulsation. He had done nothing to gain those talents, he was born with them, why people could never understand this.

"For you, Lews Therin." Duram Laddel said, flows of air took his coat from outside the arena, it was empty now, of course. But anyone who wanted could come here to train himself before the games would started. "For me it's not even time for breakfast." He touched saidin and opened a gateway, a line that resolved to show a dark room, full with open books and papers, all in a mess. He wondered how the other man could find something there when he needed it, it must take him hours each time.

Lews Therin nodded, and open a gateway to his own quarters, his rooms was well lighted, and although he enjoyed reading, there was only a single book open on the desk. And the room was clean and neat. He smile fondly at the room, it wasn't his work, he could have never make the room look so neat. His mother used to say that he created a mess in his rooms even while he slept. He thought he liked it that way, until Saron Faren's grand father was assigned to him, given to him more exactly. The da'shain had simply took over his life entirely, sometimes it was more than irritating, but most of the time he couldn't imagine his life without the da'shain. He sat on a chair and channeled air to pour him some wine, he needed no more thought for this than he needed for breathing. For the like of him, saidin was used to do anything. He leaned back on the chair, putting his feet on the table the goblet of wine floating near his head, held by invisible hand. The book moved at him, but he didn't read it. Instead he let his thoughts wonder. Envy, that was his biggest problem. He never asked to be the strongest Aes Sedai ever to be known to this world. He had never asked to have all those talents. He could do nothing about having them, why people didn't understand it? He was also a ta'veren the strongest to be ever recorded. Everything should have going to his favor. Being a ta'veren was supposed to be a good thing.

"Women are supposed to faint whenever they see me," He muttered darkly, "people who opposed me are supposed to support me." that was what the records said, there was nota single ta'veren in more than millennium. "All I ever get is people hating me for what I am." He hated it, hated what he became to be, and hated more that he had no chance of breaking free of this.

"A honored member of the hall of servants." He snored, "I would have rather spend the night in Collam Daam." The city was said to be hunted, none survived a night there. "But then people would say I've done that only to prove that I can do it." Everything he did would bring those comment. "Nothing that I'll do will ever make them believe I want none of it." He stared darkly at the room. How much he had hated it. He would exchange it all, all the honor, with the simple life he could have. Even the third name he bore was bitter, he brought only more jealously. Barid Bel, reached his third name, Medar, only three weeks after he did, but as always, he wasn't satisfied with this. He thought that he and Barid Bel were friends, of sort, they were at the same age and liked much the same things. "But every bloody thing I do turn out to be better than he does." At first he enjoyed it, but even he thought it reached too far. The Wheel weaves as the wheel will. How many times he had been told that, and its weaving must be accepted. The next who would tell him that was about to have unpleasant surprise.

Barid Bel and he had shared the same interests, and although they didn't always agreed about certain things, they were friends for a long time. Almost since the first time they met each other, more than three hundreds and fifty years in the past. At first they competed each other because it was fun. But as time passed both of them understood that whatever he would do, Barid Bel would never match him. Lews Therin released saidin, catching the cup in mid air, he didn't want to have his emotions blocked away now. Barid Bel was the one who was first interested in taking a position in the Hall of Servants, and he had joined only to make him happy. He was much happier to take another path, a quiet place in the Sharom, before it was destroyed, and time to study the different aspects of the One Power was all he ever wanted. As for now, he had all but abandoned his studies entirely. Even that training battle with Duran Laddel was a stolen moment of pleasure, Duram Laddel might be envious of him, but at least he hid it well. He was glad that Barid Bel had never showed any interested in sword play. At least in this he wouldn't have to best the other man.

He placed the goblet of whine on the table and opened the book, "A study about powers in human and the other races, by Barid Bel Medar." He surrounded himself in k'doi but refused to let himself touch saidin, the power called him, sang to him, tempted him, but he ignored it. Or at least pushed it a little away from himself, one cannot simply ignore the One Power's call. With saidin he felt ten times as alive as without it, hundred times as much, or more. It help him forget his troubles, sometimes, fighting himself not to hold saidin. This time, as it almost always did, it worked. And he could concentrate in the book, it was a fascinating one, as usual with Barid Bel's work. Not at all the style he would, or could, write. His books were much more simpler than Barid Bel's ones. And although they had usually wrote more or less about the same subjects, his books always achieved better critical and higher popularity than Barid Bel's. Always. Even when he thought that Barid Bel's books were better than his. Saying it helped nothing. Barid Bel only saw it as false modesty. And it only made things worse. It didn't take long before he could let himself release k'doi, the book was fascinating. As most of Barid Bel's books were. He grabbed saidin again, and a pen began to scribed notes on a paper that Saron Faren had placed for this purpose exactly. He, his father and his grandfather knew him better than he knew himself.

The only warning he had was the tingling in his skin. He let the pen fall, and embrace as much of saidin as he could draw, jumping out of the chair, he prepared to use the power to defend himself, or to attack. The woman that stepped through the gateway looked surprised, her eyes were wide. But she had never had to face Mierin while the woman was angry. Mierin could never control herself when she was angry, and she was far more than angry about him ever since he left her. She had actually tried to kill him that day. And it had came to a fight between them, something new students sometimes did. She was supposed to be the strongest female ever. As he was the strongest male ever, save Elan Morin, who was equal to him, but there was one fact as hard as the One Power itself. Men, when it came to relative strengths, was far stronger than women. And although it took him more time than he expected it would he had her shielded at the end. It took him nine hours before he was finally convinced that she won't try to kill him again as soon as he would release the shield from her. Nine hours of channeling, with every drop of the power he could draw. He was close to severing himself, or killing himself when she finally stopped trying to break the shield. And she tried it once more, a week later. With the same results. From that point he was constantly aware of female channeling. He had a fair idea how Mierin's mind worked, you couldn't live with someone for more than twenty years without knowing how that someone thought. And he hadn't thought he would enjoy her catching him, even while he was stronger than her. If she would take the weakest angreal she could overcome him. That was one reason he never moved without an angreal of his own. A strong one, he sometimes had nightmares about what she might do. And it was another reason to shield his dreams, he knew as much as she knew about tel'aran'rhiod but there was no point at taking risks. The last time he saw her, five years ago, she seemed to be calm again. At least she didn't tried to rip his throat open with her fingernails. But she made it extremely clear that she meant to have him again. Sometimes he wondered if the woman was insane.

But it wasn't dark and beautiful Mierin who stand in front of him, the woman was different from Mierin in every aspect, save her height and beauty. She was as beautiful as Mierin. He thought he knew her, an Aes Sedai he sometimes saw in the meeting of the hall. "Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar," he said, she was a member of the hall, but not one to remember, she did her duties well and quickly, but that was to be expected, from an Aes Sedai in the hall. He remembered fondly the days where he looked in awe at the members of the hall, now he only felt scorn at them, himself included. Ilyena was simply one of the many members of the hall, he was surprised to find that he envied her, she had nothing to be envied about. And that was the reason he envied her. "why have you come here, if I may ask?" They were in his rooms, but he had always kept on his manners.

He released saidin slowly, he always hated let go of the feeling of life. At the same time the tingling disappeared from his skin. He let his eyes wonder on the woman standing in front of him, she had a waist long hair, in the color of the sun. And clear blue eyes that seem to read his soul. A mouth that was now a tight line, but he distantly remembered that she usually wore a smile on her face. She had a small nose, and a high cheek bones, she was more than beautiful, though this usually had no affect on him. After rejecting Mierin, beauty wasn't really high in his list of qualities he searched in a woman. She wore a green tight dress, and her streith was cool blue.

"Tomorrow they are going to ask you to be the First of Servants, Lews Therin." It was no explanation, but it sent all thoughts about Mierin and women out of his head.

"Are you sure?" He asked with a groan, this was the last thing he needed! There was no refusing to such offer. But he would have given his right hand to avoid it.

She blinked at him, "You don't want it? Any one else would have jumped on the offer." She sounded surprised, but the water in the hall of servants was muddier than the blackness outside the pattern.

"Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar," He snorted, "I have people jealous at me that I've never met, or will ever meet. I once had a friend, Barid Bel Medar," She nodded to the name, Barid Bel was only a bit less famous than he himself was. "now he would be more than happy to walk on my grave." Barid Bel would probably also make a lovely speech, he was good at speeches. "Tel Janin Aellinsar would dance on it. Duram Laddel Cham would probably use my grave as to climb up the scale of rank." He deliberately chose the more famous one, Tel Janin Aellinsar was the world champion in sword for a long time. He had beaten him once, but the man never forgot it. Duram Laddel Cham, he hid his jealously well, but you could feel it, the man was almost hundred years older than himself, but was still lower in rank than he was. "I have more than enough people envying me as it is. I don't need to have to add more to this. Someone of them might decide to take this personally and try to kill me." He saw the shock on her. Fifty or sixty years ago no one would have thought about such thing. Now, it might come true.

"Peace is collapsing, Ilyena Moerelle." He said, "Ever since the destruction of Collam Daam our society is collapsing. I have dedicated as much time as I can to study this, but have found no reason for this." As much time as he could, practically nothing, not the tenth he should have dedicated, but he had other duties too. "Elan Morin Tedronai is working about it ever since the Sharom collapsed, but he said he had no answer yet." Her streith began to darken. And he quickly wove air to drag a chair for her. She looked at him gratefully and sank back.

The streith return to the cool blue slowly. "You still have no other choice, you know it, Lews Therin." She said, "No one can refuse to be -"

He cut her off with sharp motion of his hand, he thought that if he would seat down the strain in his muscles would tear him apart. "I don't care what can be done, I will not be the First of Servants! Who suggested it anyway? I never did anything to hint that I want ed this position." He realize he was quivering with rage. Some people would think that he did want this. And they would hate him more for this. He never asked for this, never wanted this. Ilyena stood in a flash, her eyes blazing like the sword in his before. Her streith become the blood red of fury.

"You dare to shout at me, Lews Therin!" It wasn't a question, she reminded him a she wolf he once saw. Her fangs bare, ready to attack, but he wasn't the rabbit that the she-wolf was after. And here his strength in the power wouldn't help him. Strength wasn't something that was supposed to taken into consideration in the hall. And it was never considered much among the male Aes Sedai. Mainly because they had no fast way to measure that. Among females the situation was different, there strength did play its part. But when it came to female and male Aes Sedai, the female always seem to think that they could more than match the man. Ilyena wasn't different then most of other female Aes Sedai. And she wasn't even as strong as Mierin was. For some reason it disappointed him that she wasn't different. "Are you mad?" This was a question. But certainly not one he expected.

"What?!" He asked, he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"It was a simple question, Lews Therin. Are you mad?" She said, the streith was now purple, between the blue of calm and the red of fury. "You refuse to take a position every one else would have leap on." She rose one finger, "You insulted more than one member of the hall," she rises another finger, "including me." He was amused to see that she hadn't rose anymore fingers to that. Modesty, even if it was a fake one, wasn't something he usually run into. "You're Aes Sedai for long time," He was Aes Sedai since he was forty, and that was long time ago. "and you turn down every offer to join an ajah or create one. And there were hundreds, if not thousands of such offers."

"Three thousands seven hundred and sixty four." He murmured softly, she rose an eyebrow, obviously surprised, "It give me something to do when I'm bored." And it was nice to know that so many people wanted him, every man had to have something to be pride it. And the things he did, the books he wrote and and offices he performed, all the things that gave him the publicity meant nothing to him. He could have done very well without them.

"You turned down three thousands seven hundred and sixty fouroffers?" She sounded as if she didn't believe him, no wonder, considering that at best, one might be be asked five or six hundreds times to join ajahs in a lifetime. "And you don't want to be the First of the Servants, and you don't keep your manners with you. Why, one may begin to wonder that you're not interested in power. Or perhaps you have others plans?"

"I've no interest in power, Ilynea." He said, he took a chair and motion her to sit again, she sat calmly, arranging her skirts around her carefully. Not for the first time he wonder why women bother to wear the streith, it reveal too much of what they felt. Green did fit her well, he noticed, then chased the thought out of his head. "You should have understand it already."

"Then why you came here in the first place?" She asked, "Why you don't leave?"

He laughed softly at that, "You can't leave this place, not after the first touch of real power. It's more addictive than the One Power, haven't you ever felt it? Oh, you might convince yourself that this is responsibility that make you stay and duty. But you can't really leave the power after you tasted it." She shift her position slightly, and the streith began to darken again, fear, and confusion. "And the first time I came here was for Mierin," Even before he was famous she found him, maybe she knew even then what would happen, all she had to do was to direct him a little. And once you enter this world you couldn't escape it. "for Mierin and Barid Bel." He saw her head move, startled, golden hair flowing like golden cascade. "You didn't knew that, didn't you?" She didn't like him knowing she didn't know it. But then again, even without the sudden movement, the streith was pure white.

"It's... unlikely to think so. Considering what he thinks of you." She said, "I didn't think that he might be the one that pulled you to politics, he seemed to be the one who would do the contrary."

Lews Therin sighed, "Ilyena, you should have made your homework. He didn't always hate me, we were friends, long ago." Good friends, and he still liked the man, but his success had poisoned their friendship.

"I... see." He didn't thought she saw, but it didn't matter. "You still haven't answered my questions."

"About turning down power? I had, I don't want it, but I can't leave this place." He pointed in a wide motion, this room, this position. As much as he hated them, he could not imagine his life without them. "But I can said that this is all I want, that I want nothing more. I should have said it long ago." Meririn had pushed him to where he was now. And he stick to his place with fingernails, had he wanted, he could have been long ago the First of the Servants. And she knew it.

"I think you're mad, Lews Therin." But her voice was light, and he took no offence. "Or at least the strangest man I've ever seen." She smile at that and stood, "But I must go now, I'll see you in the Hall." His skin tingled as she channeled, and a gateway began to resolve.

He caught her arm, "Why have you came here, Ilyena? Not just to tell me that they mean to offer me to be the First." The hall was considering who would be the next First for so long that he nearly forgot about it.

"To see you," she said, one hand patting on his cheek, "I wanted to see who would be the next First of Servants." With that, she smiled, and the smile changed her entirely. She was beautiful, but smiling, she was far more beautiful than any other woman he had ever seen, including Mierin. The smile seem to make her glow. He noted the view seen from the gateway, a room as clean as his, but in a mess as much as Duram Laddel's was. The gateway closed behind her, and left an empty feeling. Somehow, her leaving made the room look darker.

"Would be the next First?" He whispered to the air, "I think you're about to have a surprise, Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. A big surprise." Saidin filled him, and the goblet of wine rose from the table, he forgot to offer her to drink something. Never mind, she didn't stay long enough to feel thirst. And she would have pour her a drink by her own, if so. But even as Ilyena filled his mind one cold decision remained intact in him. He would not be the First of Servants, and the Hall can burn for it.

Ilyena sat in front of the mirror, giving her hair the final touch, she knew she always looked beautiful in blue. And for that man, fo that cause, she took the trouble. She wasn't sure that it could even help with him. A man that could reject Mierin... She was pretty enough herself, no more, but Mierin was more than beautiful.

The gasp behind her was the first sign of him, he stare at her, deep brown wide eyes moving on her body, she felt it almost like a touch. "Light of heaven, Ilyena" Lews Therin murmured in admiration, "you're beautiful." He was very tall, taller than most man by a head or more. He wore light coat and breach in deep scarlet, and he moved like he was about to dance in every move.

She smile at him, "Thank you." It was nice of him to say it, usually men, especially if they were Aes Sedai, kept their emotion under tight control. She rose from the chair and lie the brush on the table. She wore a long blue dress that exposed her shoulders, and her hair was flood of gold. She knew that the contrast between the dress and her hair was stunning.

He gave her a hand to help her rise, she took it, but had to fight with herself not to giggle like a fifteen years old girl. she was more than fifteen time this age. For some reason men never seem to think that such behavior was noble. But it was one thing she didn't mean to tell him, for herself, she thought it sweet.

She led him to the garden, she kept it in endless spring, and it was her favorite place. He followed two steps behind her, his gaze left her to stare at her quarters, she didn't knew what there was there to see. She kept it clean, but no more. She never seemed to have the time to put everything in place. And she had never asked for a da'shain. For some reason she didn't felt comfortable with the idea of someone serving her. At some point he stopped suddenly, she half turned her head, looking at him. He stared at a sha'rah board, she was once quite skilled at the game, little short of a master, but she hadn't touched the board for more than a year and a half. Duty took to much of her time. As it was with every other member of the Hall.

"Barid Bel had been chosen to be the First of the Servants." She said, then bit her lip. She didn't mean to mention it until much later. "And you were the first to refuse that title in history."

He took his eyes off the sha'rah board and looked at her, deep brown eyes that seem to laugh at something. At himself, she thought. "I'm always the first, Ilyena." He said, for some reason his voice was bitter, and there wasn't a shred of pride in him, "No matter what I do, I'm always the first." She thought that he shook his head slightly, but she couldn't be sure. "Do you play?"

"Sha'rah? I didn't know you are playing it." Nothing that she heard indicate it, at least, and she studied everything she could on him, she had to.

"I'm not very good at this, I fear," Lews Therin said, "but it's certainly an interesting game. You on the other hand, are considered as a master in it. Or at least were considered, for some reason you stopped playing. Shortly after joining Latra Posae's ajah. Does she take too much of your time?" Now she was glad she didn't wore a streith, she kept her face blank. But the streith would have become utter black to his words. How did he know? She wondered, It was supposed to be a secret.

That was the reason she was chosen to approach him, she was all but anonymous, one of the many members of the Hall. She hadn't done anything to make people notice her. He sat down and began to arrange the red pieces. She took the opposite side and channeled to arrange her green pieces. She didn't understand this. Why he was doing it? If he thought her a master, while he was merely a beginner. He could win nothing that way.

"How did you found out?" She asked, she was proud in her voice, her surprised was well hidden.

"People talk, and they tend to remember you." He suddenly send her a twisted smile, "After last night, they was more than happy to talk to me."

She could have believe it, no one ever turned down an offer to be the First of Servants. It wasn't even exactly an offer, more a command. "Why you did it? And why did you said that Barid Bel is the one who is fit for that office? He hates you!" Men never seemed to care if what they did ever made sense, but she didn't believe he ever did something out of impulse. Most of what she knew of him came from rumors, and the Hall's records. And his books, of course, he wrote about almost anything. And although she almost always didn't agree with him, he did wrote good books.

"He doesn't hate me," She couldn't say for her life what emotion was that filled Lews Therin's voice. "he envies me. Envies my success." He closed his eyes for a moment, he looked tired to death, "I'm too tired of people being jealous on me. Now he has what he always wanted. To be above me, to have more glory that I had." Irony was heavy in his voice.

"It doesn't bother you?" She didn't wait for his nod to continue, "It wouldn't work, you know. People are not talking now about Barid Bel being the new First."

Lews Therin nodded, "They talk about great Lews Therin, sonobly stepping down to clear the way to a man that hate shim. Anything I do bring this result. I stopped hoping it will ever end." They finished arranging their tools. Lews Therin made the first move. A beginner step indeed, one that could be easily countered. She didn't mean to let herself lose, she hadn't lost in this game for more than hundred years.

"You are a ta'veren you know. You can't escape it." She move a stone, she could end the game in ten moves, and she would. Had he thought that just because he was so successful in so many area he could match her? A little humiliation wouldn't hurt him.

"Then the Wheel choose me to humiliate Barid Bel? Isn't it a noble goal, one that would be remembered forever in stories and songs?" She had to laugh at this, and his eyes lighten in amusement, imitating hers.

They each moved a tool before he talked again, he was a beginner, his style would lead to defeat even faster than she thought. "Do you envy me?" He asked it in a normal tone, as if there was nothing unusual in the question.

"What?!" She must have heard it wrong.

"It was simple enough question, Ilyena." He said, answering her with her own words, the words she used when he was at the same state of surprise she was now. There was questions that you simply didn't ask, she broke that. But never expected him to do so. "Do you envy me? Light know that there are enough people who envy me, do you, too?"

"I don't envy you, I don't think so, at least." It was sometimes hard to know what she really felt, and she sometimes preferred not to know what she felt. It was the same ever since Dejar Roran had died, he was at Collam Daam when the city was destroyed, few survived that disaster. And he wasn't one of them. Since that time she had sealed her feeling under a black wall. They were too painful to be felt. But she didn't think she was envying him. She didn't want to be in his place, she was happy enough where she was.

It was his turn to move again, but he lied his chin on his hand and looked at her, intent on her face. For some reason she felt like it was hot in the room. She had learned to ignore heat or cold long ago. Everyone who wanted could do this, but it didn't help her now. The heat she felt came from him. "Would it surprise you to know that I envy you?" Again, the question was asked in a flat voice, as if it was every day topic. She wondered where exactly she had lost control on the conversation.

Her eyes went wide before she could control them, "You?! In me?! Why? There is nothing in me to be jealous about me." She wasn't famous, or known, to either side. Some Aes Sedai, like Lews Therin, and Barid Bel, and Tel Janin, to count the males, or Kamarile Maradim and Nemene Damendar and Latra Posae to count the females, were famous and well known and respected. They had all received their third name long ago, by right. For deeds that were done for the good of all. Lews Therin, Latra Posae and Barid Bel, of course, specialized in politic and the high offices of the Hall of Servants. Tel Janin was one of the best sportsman the world had ever known. And Kamarile Maradim and Nemene Damendar who were both the best healers in thousand years or more. One of the mind and the second of the body.

Others, like Lillen Moiral, that not a week ago had been disciplined for breaking the ethics of her office,.or Mierin Eronaile that would be remembered forever as the one who destroyed the Sharom and Collam Daam, and Eval Ramman whose tempers had been the main reason he declined to gain the third name of honor were known and famous as well or more, but their reputation wasn't a good one, to say the least.

For herself, she stood in the middle, which was fine with her. She didn't want, or needed to feel famous.

He moved a tool, not really looking at the board, "That is the reason, you've nothing to be jealous about." Their was something in his voice, longing. For the time he was infamous? He was definitely the strangest man she had encountered. She would have laughed at his words if not for that undertone in his voice.

"You can always leave, Lews Therin." She said, she took a look on the board, what he did was something only a fool would do. In five moves she would win. "No matter the reasons that brought you to where you're. You can always leave."

He looked as if he didn't saw the trap closing on him, both in the game and in life. She had agreed to Latra Posae's plans for him, but in life, in the greater game they all played, none who were in the Hall for so long could be taken as a beginner. He has vever been involved in the intrigues in the Hall. He was simply who he was, a man that the power chased after, instead of him chasing power. "Don't you think I tried? I'm a ta'veren, Ilyena." He remind her, "I have less freedom than those tools." With that he rose to his feet.

"You're going? So soon?" She asked, the sadness in her voice was real, she didn't understood why.

"The same as you, Ilyena." He said, every sign of the tiredness in him was gone. "I've learned what I've came for." His face harden to stone. He was so pleasant before, that she could hardly believe it was the same man that stood in front of her. Eyes like cold ice burned into her, "Tell Latra Posae that I know the game she is playing. And tell her that in that game I'm going to win."

"You didn't win this one." She said, pointing at the game. He simply stare at her, and one tool changed places, without a hand touching it.

"But I did." That was all, he flashed her a smile, not a proud or arrogant one, he didn't delight on winning her. It was simply a smile. She couldn't understand why Barid Bel hated him so much. If that was how he was always. She blinked in surprised, he had already left, and she hadn't even felt it.

She was sure that she let him know nothing about the plans Latra Posae made for him, then why he was so pleased suddenly.

I've learned what I've came for, that was what he said. But all he asked her was about herself. It wasn't the plans he came for. She realized suddenly. Just as she did, he came to learn more about herself.

She stared at the board, a master game, disguised as a beginner. And she hadn't seen it until the very end. She didn't even know that he played it, certainly not that he was so skilled. "So you want play, Lews Therin?" She whispered into the empty room, this kind of game she hadn't played close to fifty years, but she thought, that for him, she might want to play that game. It had been long since she had looked at a man as a man. Maybe it was a time for a change.

Lews Therin walked through the corridors of the Hall of Servants. As always he had to stop himself from staring, the building was build to the pleasure of the watcher, and it was enough to make his heart ache from the beauty of it, and he was here for more than three hundreds years. He has seen Aes Sedai, at their first visit in the Hall, that had practically forgotten what they have came to do, instead they toured the entire building, moving from one place to another. Their eyes wide and their jaws open wide. He grinned to himself, at his first visit here, he had abandoned his mission and surrendered to the beauty of the building. Many books and songs and poems had been created about this building, but Lews Therin thought that nothing could make you feel how it was in truth. It could took your breath away from you, and it brought tears to the eyes of the watchers often.

Saidin filled him, it always did, in the Hall of Servants he wanted to be aware of anything, and the beauty of the building was only half a reason. A sweet perfume was the other reason, a woman as stubborn as she was beautiful. Or more, why she couldn't understand that he didn't want her anymore? He stopped and waited, he didn't have to wait long.

Mierin had gave a start as she saw him, black hair and eyes, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even Ilyena wasn't as beautiful as she was. As always, she wore white and silver, she could blind a man with a smile. As always he felt that stab of regret, and had to remind himself all the reasons why he left her. Mierin was also furious, he hadn't seen her like this for a long time. She usually had a good control on her emotions.

"You!" She hissed at him, and he sighed inwardly, she have heard about him and Ilyena. He and Ilyena were... playing a game. He knew that he loved her, loved her with all his heart, as he onced love Mierin, and he was sure she felt the same for him. But, for some reason neither he nor she wanted to admit it, even to their self. They enjoyed this little game too much, and it allowed them to be together without risking being harmed again. As far as he understood, she had lost a man she loved in the destruction of Collam Daam, and Mierin always stood between him and other women. For a long time women had been an amusement for a night or a week. Never more than that. And only part of the reason was Mierin, there was no emotion. Nothing he could love with those women. Ilyena, in more than one way, was different. "I've just heard about that hay hair woman you have taken!" Her voice took a dangerous tone, "You're mine,Lews Therin! No other woman save me can have you!"

He was glad he was holding saidin, Mierin wasn't beyond violence when she was angry. And he knew about five women at least that she had terrorized away from him. He sighed again, loud this time. "I'm not yours, Mierin." He said, keeping his voice cold and calm was an effort, he wanted to slap her till she would understand that he didn't love her anymore. "When you're going to understand that? I loved you, once. It was a long time ago! I love you no more."

He could see that he hadn't reach her, What would it take to convince her? There was a way, but he did not dare to use it."You are mine, Lews Therin. And mine only. When will you understand it? If you will not have me you will have no one!" He had heard her using the same tone, just before she tried to kill him when he told her he was leaving her. He wouldn't, couldn't, let her harm Ilyena, and he could easily believe now that she could do it. Ilyena would be defenseless. She was strong, for a woman, but certainly not on Mierin's level. There was no one in the corridor, a good thing, in that hour not many was in the Hall of Servants. It must be one of those ta'veren twisting the pattern that brought Mierin and him in the same time to the same place.

She hadn't touched saidar, yet, but he still slid a shield between her and the True Source. What he was about to do would have no affect if she would hold even the smallest amount of saidar. "You will not hurt Ilyena, Meririn. Not in anyway. Never!" At the same time he wove Spirit and Air and Fire, placing the command deep inside her, deep enough so she could never break it by her own. He wished he could do the same with her love to him. But what he did was enough. More than enough. Doing it disgusted him, but there was no other way. Compulsation wasn't to be used in this way. But if Ilyena might be hurt because of Mierin...

Meririn stood rigid, not even breathing, staring at him unbelievingly. He had quite a talent in compulsation, and she had that talent only in a small amount only. She wouldn't be able to break it without some help. And she wouldn't do that. What he did, if anyone would ever know about it, would probably led to him being severed. But Mierin wouldn't risk that. She loved him, or so she thought, for himself, he suspected that all she ever wanted was power. She had convinced herself that she loved him, and she had made his life miserable ever since he left her. And that was to say the least. Even after she had left him she continued trying to push him up. Maybe in the thought that he would return to her one day. Her hand moved like lightning, and he barely stepped back in time. "You," she whimpered, "they can sever you for this!" She was still too stunnd to be angry.

"And then I will never be yours, you are trapped, Mierin. If you would turn me in it mean you don't love me. If you don't..." He left it hang in the air, he couldn't continue. He felt like he's about to throw out. He kept his face calm, a small grin on them.

"One way or another," She hissed at him, battering the edge of the shield, "you'll be mine." He was surprised to see tears in her eyes. But she turned away from him before he could do something, not that he had any idea what he could do. And she let both the shield and saidin go. He hit the white wall, accepting the pain gladly. He deserved it. He still have some love in him for Mierin, though not in the way she wanted it. And what he did sickened him. "I had no other choice." He could have lived with compelling her, but not with what he did later. Those words where chosen carefully to hurt her more than anything else. Taking a hold of saidin again he opened a gateway. He didn't care where, only that it would be far away from here, as far as he could. As far as he could get from the abomination he had just done.

Mierin stepped though the gateway to the most distant place she knew. A cliff, with a view for the ocean. It always made her calm. Not now, though. She could barely see through the tears that covered her eyes. She could feel the command he left on her, like a scar on her soul. She couldn't even say something that would insult Ilyena! Lews Therin was hers! He can belonge to no other! Tears trickled down her eyes, she didn't bother to wipe them. She had cried many times since he had left her. She loved him. She would have done everything for him. But he left her. She sank to her knees, sobbing, hugging herself desperately. There was nothing she could do, light, he's supposed to be mine! She thought, fury burning inside her. But even the fury was burned beneath the mass on sadness and grief in her. She had no idea how long she had cried. But when she rose her head the skies already began to darken. She had stood on unsteady feet. The sadness and the grief hadn't lessened, but she could endure them, for a little while. They were there ever since he left her.

She stared to the cliff's end, it could be so easy. Just to walk over the end, to fall over to the sea. They would never find her body. And all this would end. All the lives she had killed in the Sharom. All the lives that were lost when Collam Daam destroyed. She barely make it out of the city herself. And she hadn't stopped blaming herself for it, even though everyone else agreed that it wasn't her fault. but she was the one who drilled the open to... they still had no idea what it has been, only that it also caused people to act strange. Crimes, violent crime became common, where they once had all but forgotten.

"You will be mine, Lews Therin!" She whispered into the evening air, "No matter what I have to do to have you, you will be mine." More than that command, his words hurt her. He trapped her, trapped her in her love to him. Fury boiled inside her again. And this time it overcame the sadness. She couldn't break the command he gave her by her own. Nor could she go to anyone that could break it. "A perfect trap, Lews Therin. But there is a way out, and I will find her." But her already trapped her before. When she made her fall in love with him. And there was no way out of that trap!

It was more than foolish to be nervous. Lews Therin knew it, but couldn't help it for his life. All he could do was to try to hide it as much as he could. He wore blue and red, with a circle of black and white, divided in sinuous line on the left side of his chest. The cloths were soft against his skin, but not as soft as Ilyena's hand, he held it in his. And he could feel her pulse racing. It was their wedding night, and he could hardly believe it. He thought his heart might burst out of his ribcage. Ilyena must have been nervous too, she hadn't stopped smoothing her dress, and his collar and coat. She wore a blue dress, and was so beautiful his eyes ached only looking at her.

When she tried, for the sixth time, to smooth his collar, he caught her head in his hands and kissed her, there was no better way to calm her, and him. "I love you." He whispered at the woman that leaned against his chest when the kiss ended. "Light help me, I love you more than life itself." She simply signed, and wrapped her arms around him. Hugging him tightly.

They waited to be called, the ceremony was as old as time itself, or so it seemed, and Ilyena insisted that it would be kept. For himself, Lews Therin was just as pleased as she did from this. But he knew better than to tell her. As it was all it took from her was one look and he did as she would have ask. It he would ever let her know how deeply he love her... It wasn't that she would misuse it. Ilyena's face was buried in his chest, that was why she hadn't saw the dark hair woman that enter the room. Today, even Mierin looked pale compared to Ilyena. But her eyes held enough heat to burn the world. And as soon as she saw him, holding Ilyena, that heat seem to be double.

She stared at him, a tall woman, a woman he once loved. And he had to force his body to remain soft. Silently he prayed that the bar he compelled on her, the bar that prevented her from hurting Ilyena would hold. If not, he would have to take action, and the light alone know where it may lead. Fury babbled at him, why couldn't the woman leave him alone?

The compulation held. She straightened, and dark, liquid eyes looked at him. She didn't glare. But the stare had the force of a charging bull. Silently, she mouthed ten words, he knew her enough to read her lips. "You will be mine again! You have always been mine!" With that, she turned back and exited the room. White skirts swiveling without sound.

"What happened, Lews Therin?" Ilyena mumbled softly. Her hands tightened around him.

"Nothing, Ilyena. Nothing that should worried you." He said, caressing her hair softly. But until the moment they were called to enter he failed to chase Mierin out of his head.

Mierin entered the hallway silently. The air was cold around her, but it was nothing compared to the chill she felt inside. She heard it only a few minutes ago. Kamarile Maradim Nindar smiled at her in that knowing way that made Mierin always feel as if she knew her thoughts. Kamarile Maradim was a healer of the mind, and she always looked at people if she knew everything about them. Mierin did not want to be understood, she did not want to feel the pain and the void inside. And what she really did not want was Kamarile Maradim to understand these feelings!

"Didn't you know?" Kamarile had said, with that irritating smile on her face. "Lews Therin Telamon and Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar are getting married today." At that moment, Mierin wanted to die. The bubble of pain inside her stomach, where it rested for many years now, came to a terrible explosion and a few moments the world sank away in the pain and the shock. She wanted to scream, to hit the face of the other women. To destroy something. She had to release it, all the pain inside her, all the pain buried for so long.

"What is it, Mierin?" Kamarile asked in a pleasant tone, yet very sly. "Don’t you feel to well?"

In a outburst of fury, Mierin embrace saidar and struck with the power. Then she began to ran through the hallways, leaving Kamarile trembling and almost unconscious behind. She did not see the beauty of the hall, nor was she caught by it, she just ran and ran with a mist of tears blurring her vision. Until she was where she had to be. She knew where he must be.

She opened the door softly and looked into the last hallway, the hallway where the lovers had to wait until they were called. And there, there they stood! Together! And Lews Therin actually hugged her! Memories of him hugging her came to her mind. And she had to fight the tears again.

A few seconds she stood there, gasping for breath and watching how he caressed the blond hair of that.... of Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. The Compulsion Lews Therin had lain on her, was too strong to get out. She could barely think bad of the other woman. Fury flared up inside of her, in the same instant as Lews Therin looked up from his wife-to-be and stared directly at her.

Mierin understood. A glimpse of a moment, she understood. Lews Therin was lost to her, forever. He loved someone else. She denied the thought before it could fully form in her mind, she pushed it away. The pain did not even had the chance to start. She just stood there, not talking, not moving. Staring. She couldn't even glare at the other woman.

Lews Therin stared back, his dark brown eyes seemed to ask her something. And angry too. He did not want to see her at this moment, when he was going to be married. No! she told herself. Anger because a part of him realizes that what he's doing is a mistake. The biggest in his life. A part of him still loves me, a part of him can't live without me. As I can't live without him.

She felt that her lips were forming the words she always repeated to herself, and to him. The words that kept her alive, that kept her from jumping off that cliff at the end of the world. You will be mine again. You have always been mine.

Lews Therin saw it, and understood. She could not see all his emotions, but he suddenly seemed very confused. Frustrated, hurt. He did still love her.

Mierin turned around and walked away without making any sound. The pain stopped running through her body, it comforted itself under in her stomach again. Where it had been for many years. Since the moment she realized that he would leave her, the pain began to grow. Twice before it had exploded; one time at the moment he told her he is going to leave her, and she, in her outrage, tried to kill him, and failed. Miserably failed. The next time when she noticed he had been with Ilyena and just knew she was loosing him definitely. At that moment, she wanted to kill Lews Therin again, and with him that ... Ilyena and herself too.

She loved Lews Therin more than life itself, more than ... Ilyena would ever be capable of. She loved him too much to let it be healthy. Well, she could not help it. The only thing she wanted in her life was that he would be hers again, and that all the troubles was forgotten. Including the trouble at Collar Daam and the Sharom.

She just wanted them to be lovers again, totally lost in each other, like they were in the beginning. She wanted that everything was like it used to be. A wish. If wishes had wings... A mist of tears blurred her vision. And at that moment. Even saidar couldn't comfort her.

Ishmael never felt so in his life. Saidin flowed in him, sweater than life. And the staff he held in his hands blazed like the sun with dark fire that landed between the defenders of Paran Desen. Flows of saidin race between the armies, carrying death. The air was full of lightnings, and fire and death and beauty. He titled his head back and laughed, today would bring victory. The final victory over the light's forces. They had centered all their armies defending their capital. Winning here would give them the world. Dozen Myradraals stood near him. When ever their gaze touch him he could feel the stab of fear that blazed in them. Myradraal's look entered fear into one's heart. But he was beyond it. Far beyond. He wore simple cloths, in black and red, the colors he made his own.

He stood on an isolated heel, three miles away from the battle, close enough to strike, far enough not to be hurt by the fight. It was easy to see where Demandred, Sammael and Bel'al were. Three spots constantly advancing. Three spots constantly surrounded by fire and lightning. They were fools, risking themselves so.

He felt saidin being woven behind him and spun back, ready to kill the fools that tried to challenge the Naeb'lis. The gateway opened into an utter darkness. And Lews Therin stepped out of it. Cutting the flows of balefire before they could even form themselves. The Myradraals screamed, sound so high it was beyond human hearing, and died in fire.

"Ishmael," Lews Therin said, emotionlessly. He was wrapped in the Oneness. Wrapped in saidin, drawing every drop he could. Drawing as much as Ishmael himself could. "it's time to died." He carried a sword that shone in silver in his fist. A sword that was made of heart stone. But so was the staff he was carrying. He was clad in red and gold and silver,with the symbol of the Aes Sedai, a circle half white half black, divided by a sinuous line, on the left side of his breast. Ishmael promised himself that soon the red would be of blood.

"For you, not for me." Ishmael snarled back at him. And struck, with the One Power and the staff both. Lews Therin didn't even rose his sword. He flow back. Faster than it was supposed to possible. And cut the flows that could rip his soul off his body.

"Why have you betrayed the light, Elan Morin Tedronai? What the Lord of Grave could have possibly offer you that you didn't have already?" There was sadness in Lews Therin's voice. But the sword moved like a serpent tongue, so fast it looked like a blur. And he held as much of saidin as he himself could. Weaves that could destroy his very existence was barely severed in time. And Ishmael answered this flows with weaves of his own, as dangerous as Lews Therin's, if not more.

"Power, Lews Therin. Power beyond your wildest dreams, and immortality. I will live forever!" Lews Therin snarled at that with contempt.

"You're a fool. Selling you soul for this!" He answered, the sword passed a hair width from his chest. And a wall of fire surrounded them. "You already had power, you could have been the First of Servants. Now you are less than a servant. A slave! And immortality? How old are you? Four hundreds? Five?" Ishmael replayed to the fire with earth. And the ground explode beneath Lews Therin's feet. The were moving faster than the eye could see. Half of their strength attacking, with the other half defending themselves, from the other man's action, and their own. "Normal people may need immortality, Ishmael! Not Aes Sedai! We live long enough as it is!"

"That is what you think, Lews Therin." The staff stabbed, like a spear, but Lews Therin's sword slid over it, and Ishmael nearly lost the staff. He abandoned talking, thrown down his staff and looked at Lews Therin's eyes. A storm of weaves landed on the man, stretching his abilities to their border. Lews Therin broke every last one of them, and returned a storm of his own. Fire and Spirit and Water and Air and Earth, flows of all the five powers. Cutting each of the flows was a hard work, but he did it. There was sweat on his face, he couldn't spare the necessary concentration to avoid it. But Lews Therin's face shone with sweat too.

To any woman or a man that couldn't channel, they were just two men, staring at each other with burning hate and fury.

A man that could channel would have known what was happening, and if he had the smallest shred of common sense, would have fled the place. Both men drew the power to the point the sense of life was painful. And beyond it. And the weaves they used weren't used in thousands of years. For a reason, even balefire, with all its might, wasn't truly a weapon in this fight.

The fight wasn't for the body, but for the soul. Somehow, Ishmael knew that it will not do to destroy the body alone. Somehow, the battle would renew itself elsewhere, at another time. Lews Therin knew it too. And accepted it gladly.

Ishmael could have destroyed everything in his sight, in heartbeats, and Lews Therin had as much strength. But neither one of them could bring this battle to an end. The only possible result would be the death of both of them. Lews Therin had a grin on his face, an eager one. But Ishmael wasn't so enthusiastic at the thought of death.

The earth exploded beneath their feet, erasing the heel they stood in, they now stood on air alone. They weren't aware of it. But every man that could channel had stopped fighting. They could see what was happening. But none of them could give aid. To this side or another. Any man that would even try to come close would die instantly. By both men. And none of them wanted to get any closer than they were already. The amount of power those two men draw was enough to level a city. Enough to destroy both armies. Those men knew what would be the result of the battle. Soon, one of those men would fail to counter one of the attacks. But the power he held would be released, uncontrolled, and would destroying everything miles away. No men that could channel strong enough to open a gateway left in the armies of the shadow. Seeing that, and, understanding why, the females that could channel that had betrayed the light had fled too.

The Aes Sedai, men and women, stayed on the battle. Killing in the armies of the dark. Some stayed because of duty. Some for glory, and some because they had no other place to go. If Paran Desen would lost, the light would be lost too. As it was, some of the Aes Sedai did fled, but those were few. With the disappearance of the dread lords and the Forsakens among their ranks, the armies of the shadow where driven back. Killed by saidin and saidar.

Ishmael couldn't see the reason for the sudden change in battle course, but he could see that the armies he commanded at, were being destroyed. With a scream of pure frustration. Ishmael directed all the power he could draw into a shield between him and the other man. Face twisted in hate, he fled.

Lews Therin fell to his knees, exhausted, staring at the place where Ishmael were. "No!" He whispered, "It can't end this way!" Scrambling to his feet slowly, he titled his head back and screamed, "ISHMAAAAEEEL!!!" Hate was burned on his face. He channeled, and his voice was carried across the entire battle field, where the last remnants of the shadowspawns and Friends of t Dark were slaughtered. "This isn't over yet, Ishmael! We will meet again!"

The gateways opened of all sides, making the air look full of holes. The Aes Sedai reached just in time to catch him. He was so exhausted that he had fainted. But Ishmael was even in a worse condition.

"Who won?" That was the first thing Lews Therin said, and Ilyena jumped to her feet. She was half asleep in a chair near his bed. He was unconscious for so long that she feared... She will not think about it!

"Are you fine, Lews Therin?" Channeling for so long, to such extent, could sever even him. And no male Aes Sedai could tell her one way or the other! Fool men! Any woman would have known it a moment, if it was another woman. But men couldn't do it. They had to be awake for him to resonance for other men channeling. There was no way to know whatever he had severed himself until he would be awake. And those hours of worry had sent her to the edge.

Lews Therin moved his eyes slowly across the room. It was a large room, but now it looked small. At least fifteen Aes Sedai and about that number normal people, who couldn't channel. All the Aes Sedai were their children, all their children born with the spark, all were quite strong. The others, she thought of as their children too.

"You won Lews Therin, can't you remember?" Shorin Kelal asked. That eternal grin of him returned to his face. He never looked as if he was worried of something. But he was, in those hours. Lord General Shorin Kelal Semar was a tall man, only a hand below Lews Therin. With blonde hair and green eyes. He seemed to have a strange affect of women, grown women who should have known better. He was handsome, no more, but only few women could resist him. She saw him once or twice with Aes Sedai that was more than twenty times his age. Or with women that was barely old enough to be considered so. He spent most of his time hunting, women usually. But seeing him as a lecher was a grave mistake.

He was probably the greatest general in the side of the light, thirty only. He wrote dozen books or so about war. She had read them, and could barely believe he was the one who wrote them. He was practically pushed by Lews Therin into the position of the second in command. Unlike others, he had no wishes for power. But Lews Therin was right, under his command, they won many battle. And although he lost few times, any other general would have taken more losses than him. Lews Therin shaped him to that, in purpose. Pushing him to study weapon and ancient wars, it was twenty years ago when Lews Therin somehow guessed that there would be a need in generals for the wars that would come. And weapons made of steal wasn't the only thing they needed. Lews Therin made weapons out of humans.

Shorin Kelal wasn't the only one he did it to. Almost two dozens men and women, some able to touch the True Source, some not. Had been found by him, between the age of five to the age of ten. All orphans, he told them, and her, what he was about to do. They agreed eagerly. Violence became a common thing in a world where it was unknown completely. And their parents were murdered all.

What he did disgusted him, so he said, but also fascinated him in a way. He wrote several essays about the development of the personality. And with those children, he had the opportunity to test his theories.

He rose them all as if they were their children, both he and she thought about them that way. And made weapons out of them. They adored him, from Shorin Kelal, who could lead a battle from sure defeat to victory, as he did in the battle on Paran Desen. To Teadra, who knew almost as much about battle, but preferred to be a soldier, a thing she was more than good at.

They would follow him to the Pit of Doom and back, if he would ask them. In many ways, she was happy for them, they were happy about themselves. In many other ways, she couldn't see the difference between what Lews Therin did and taming animals.

"I know that Ishmael run away." Lews Therin snapped, trying to seat up. "I asked about the battle. Who won?"

Ilyena put her hands on his shoulders and pushed. It was evidence to his weakness that she could push him back. "You're staying in bed, Lews Therin. Until you have rested enough." He looked at her stubbornly, she put her hands on her hips and lectured him. "You will stay in bed, shielded and tied, if this would be necessary. I will not let you kill yourself! And at the moment, you can't even touch saidin, and certainly not to break a shield!" The first thing he had done, she was sure, was to try to touch saidin, and he would have said something if he couldn't find the source. At the moment, he was too weak to touch saidin, but he would touch it again. Relief surged in her in waves that threaten to drown her.

Shorin Kelal laughed, and the laugher spread all across the room. "I would have suggested to you to stay in bed, Lews Therin. You don't want her angry on you. I will see you again when you're better." With that, he took his ashendri, a weapon he created himself, a spear with a sword blade on it, and left. The others followed him, they all carried weapons, that was the first lesson Lews Therin taught them, never to be unguarded. They had learned well. Every last one of them was almost as famous as Lews Therin. She was more than proud at them, as much as she was in their own children, and for the same reason.

"What happened in the battle, Ilyena?" Lews Therin asked as soon as only them left in the room.

"The dread lords and the Forsakens fled the battle. They knew what was about to happen. If either one of you would have died that day you would have destroyed everything in sight. With them gone, we won." Further explanation would have to wait. "Are you fine, I mean, the power..."

"I'm fine, Ilyena. Only weak as a newborn baby." He muttered, he never liked to be forced into something. And she could understand easily how much he wanted to be out of bed. But she wouldn't let him kill himself.

"Now, Lews Therin, what kind of soup you want?" She asked pleasantly, ignoring his glare.

Ilyena sat uneasily on the soft chair in the Hall of Servants. She never liked to be left behind. Especially when there was a battle to fight in outside. Lately, in the Hall, they did nothing save talking. Didn't they understood that there was a war outside the white walls that protected them? They were so blind that sometimes she wanted to scream on them till they would see the truth.

She blocked the disgust away from her face. It was easy, after so much time in the Hall. In the Hall, people could get hurt all too easily from being too open in the Hall. This began before the War of Shadow. Even before the bore was opened. Plots, schemes and lies in order to strengthen your position was common since the beginning or time. Or so she thought sometimes. The Dark Lord of Grave didn't create them. She tried to stop hearing the speaker, a woman dressed in gray, who she remembered only faintly. Her cloths were enough to distinguish her, though. Ilyena ignored every thing the grays did. Gray, the color between the black of shadow and the white of light. The peace factions hadn't died. In this, she fully agreed with her husband, there can be no peace with the shadow. Even if the Forsaken would keep there words, they couldn't let more than half the population of the world to be under the shadow control.

The colors were a new thing, started only a year or two ago. But now there wasn't single Aes Sedai that hadn't wore the distinguishing colors. It was a statement of opinions. For herself, she wore blue. She was pregnant, again. That was the reason she wasn't in green, and took part in the battle of Sharen Mazor. No pregnant woman was allowed to wear green. Most of them moved to the blue. Spying was almost as important as battling. And she had succeed, more than once, to achieve information that had won more than one battle.

In one look on the Hall she could see how it was divided. No one wore green, they were all in Sharen Mazor, fighting, and she longed to be there. But all around her there was blues. Almost all women, almost all pregnant. The few women who weren't pregnant, and the men, wore blue mainly because they were better in spying than fighting. Or because they were afraid of battles. There was no shame in that. For herself, she had more than one nightmare about those battle. The One Power, when used as a weapon, was horrible. They simply saw too much, too much to go back to battle.

Not many were grays, not many wanted a peace with the shadow. By many eyes, there was no real difference between gray and black.

Whites were even fewer, she felt only scorn for them. They refused to take part in the killing, or in the war, pretending that the world hasn't changed. It was a sickness that was worse than the grays. And much deadlier. At least it was limited, and didn't spread. Whites argued about the nature of the Lord of Grave, and about the reasons for the war, they argued about points of pure logic. But they did nothing to help in the war. Useless cowards! She thought in fury, They could be browns if they didn't want to take part in battle. They aren't da'shain who were sworn not to take part in battles. The Aiels not fighting was another things, and any Aiel that was found able to channel and became Aes Sedai took part in the fighting.

Browns, men and women, at least studied useful things. It was the browns who came up with the ideas of sealing the bore. They had dozen or more options. And although only two of them was useful, that had been the greatest help possible they could give. And they at least did something, even if they usually were blind to the outside world. Browns had brought the ideas of the shocklances, and other weapons. They were the ones discovering the affect of balefire. And the reason why it wasn't used anymore. She barely kept herself from shivering.

In the first year of the War of Shadow, reality itself was about to unravel. The browns stopped it, and literally saved the world.

Her eyes landed on a red sphere in the Hall. Women, with not even one man, clad in red blood dresses. The women who signed Latra Posae's concord. She couldn't make her mind about Latra Posae. For herself, she wasn't strong enough to be asked to join if Lews Therin's plan would ever carried out. And Latra Posae knew enough to not even ask. Once she belonged to her ajah, but she left it long ago. When she fell in love with Lews Therin. Light, he survived thousands battles, let him be fine this battle too. She prayed silently, but she had participated in battles, and knew well enough that anything could happen. The armies was led by Demandred. And Lews Therin and the Forsaken would seek each others blood. She knew it for certain. She had seen one of the battles between Lews Therin and Demandred, it was something to remember, almost as much as her husband's battle against the Ishmael, the Betrayer of Hope. There was no way to tell who would win if they would fight. So far, it had always ended even.

The gasp that run through every man in the Hall sent her to her feet, a gateway began to open, and then others. Dozens of them. All around her, women shone with the light of saidar, readying flows that would bring death on anything. By tradition stronger than any law none may travel into or from the Hall. The gateway opened, and Lews Therin stepped through. As always now, he wore green. And the sword that was made for him hanged on his side. His hair began to gray.

But he still carried himself with the same flexibility of the younger men that stepped through their own gateway. They moved like a pack of wolves. Hard faces and grim. The Hundred Companion. Clad in green, the each had a symbol on the left side of their breast, a circle divide by a sinuous line. Half black half white. The symbol for Aes Sedai, as old as the Hall of servant itself. The gray woman near the rostrum barely jumped back from Lews Therin's gateway. He carried a sword in his hand, though his own hanged on his hip. A sword blacker than the night. She blinked at it. It was a Myradraal's sword. There was stains of blood on his coat, but his face was stone hard. And his eyes shone with fury stronger than she ever seen with him. He had an absolute control on his emotions, all the time. But now it was clear that he was furious. The Hundred Companion was as furious as he was, sending dark stares across the Hall. Most of the glares were directed at the reds, and at Latra Posae. The Hundred Companion were more than ready to carry out Lews Therin's suggestion. As it was called now. Latra Posae's concord was the only thing that stopped them from carrying it out.

Lews Therin's gaze swept on the Hall. He might have stopped on Latra Posae, she couldn't be sure. There was no recognition in his eyes when he looked at her. No one moved, or made a sound.

"Sharen Mazor has fallen." He said, fury in his voice. Soft moans of despair run through the Hall. That was the last in the defeats that they had taken lately. "And you sit here, talking! Arguing!" Scorn chimed in his voice.

"There is a war out there!" He roared at them, "And it's a war we're losing. A war we can't afford to lose!"

His gaze turn to the grays' seats. "You! You talk about peace. Peace with those who would rip a child's heart out of his body for the mere reason that they can. And you!" He pointed at the whites, "Who pretend that the war does not happening."

"You hiding here. Refuse to see the truth. Hiding behind walls and pretend that the war wouldn't reach you." He rose the sword he held. Midnight black that reflected no light. "One way or the other you will have to face the war. And if you will not come to face it. It will face you. And then it would befar too late for you to do anything!" He changed his hold on the sword. Holding it with both hands, blade down. And thrust it down into the stand. He must have been channeling, the sword sank through the stone without a sound.

He looked at them, all of them, with such a look that for a moment she thought he would strike with the power. She felt so proud of him that moment that she thought her heart would explode. "This will stay here," He said, stating a fact. "until the war will over. One way or the other. This will stay here, to remind you." His gaze was fixed on Latra Posae's face, "that there is a war outside the Hall. That you cannot hide here and pray that it would end. Or that you have the time to consider what is the best path to choose." His voice faded for a heartbeat.

"And it will stay here also to remind you that I will destroy the world before letting the Lord of Grave have it." With that, he opened a gateway and passed through. Not looking back.

Latra Posae stood, and she started to walk toward the stand. Leon Daern, Lews Therin's second in the Hundred Companion pointed at her, and she stopped on her track. "Lews Therin was right, you know it." Only the emotionless of k'doi sounded in his voice. "You are a fool." The look he gave her was full of disgust. He was her son. "You all are. Do you think that because you don't want to be involve in the war it would not touch you?" He put a hand on the sword on the stand. "Who ever that would draw it would die. You can not allow yourself to forget that there is a war. You can not allow yourself this luxury anymore. You could never do it."

With that, his look moved on the Aes Sedai that sat on the Hall. It looked as if he stared at any one at the Hall in the eye. Few could meet his gaze. "And let me promise you one thing, Lews Therin was right. One way or the other, the Lord of Grave must not be allowed to win."

The gateways opened behind him. And the Hundred Companions left the Hall. Ilyena stood on her feet, and opened a gateway of her own. For skimming, she had no clue where she was about to go. Only that she couldn't stay here. Before closing the gateway, Ilyena stared at Latra Posae, "Do you really believe that you have a chance of succeeding?" Sharen Mazor was the last city before the hiding place where the great sa'angreals were kept. "Should the shadow move any father, all hope for your plan is lost. Yet you refuse to admit it. You claim that Lews Therin's plan is too risky to be carried out. Have you even considered the risks in your own actions?" She channeled, and her voice boomed from every corner in the Hall.

All around her, every man or woman wearing blue went through their own gateways. They were the firsts, but not the lasts. Men and Women, in brown or white or gray opened gateways. Supporting Lews Therin, or maybe escaping from the accusations they knew they deserved. Only the women in red stayed in the Hall left in the Hall. Some, mostly whites, who stuck to the tradition, left the Hall through the huge gilded doors. But none, save those women supporting Latra Posae, remained in the Hall. But it was enough. Without Latra Posae support, Lews Therin's plan would never be carried out.

And Latra Posae believed that she was right, she had never took a risk in her life, and rarely took a part in the battles that surged for the last ten years all over the world. She always took the safest path that there was. Ilyena could remember time when she thought it's logical. Now, with the war, she couldn't see much difference between Latra Posae's behavior and Moghedien's.

Lews Therin tightened the sword belt on his hips. Today he abandoned the green he wore usually. And dressed himself in red and brown and gold. Coat and breech that were made before the War of Power, before even the opening of the bore. He wanted to remember how it was in those days. The days when innocence wasn't a sure way to be death before you knew it.

He like those times, he longed for them. Maybe what he was about to do today would help bring them back, yet he didn't believe it. People had gone mad the last one hundred years, struggling for power was a common thing even back on those days, but now those struggles were bloody. And those who had touched violence wouldn't let it go. Society wouldn't regain sanity for a long time. Maybe never. He didn't think he would see it. He sent his look to the bed. Where Ilyena was still sleeping. She would sleep for another hour or two before she would awake, a simple weave took care of that. She would try to stop him, he knew that, she believed him, believed that there was no other choice. But she would try to stop him anyway, because there chances were close to nothing that he would stay alive to see the end of the day. Strange, that didn't seem to worry him any more. He accepted that, now. His only fear was that the plan wouldn't work, that some how he would fail, that somewhere there was a flaw where the Lord of Grave can press on, maybe collapsing the entire plan, but there was no other choice. How long till the final defeat? Months? Weeks? Or was it a matter of days only? What ever the result this day would bring with, it had to be better than not doing a thing.

"You might do mistakes if you do something," He whispered, exiting the room "but it's always a mistake not doing a thing!" It was an old saying he favored.

"You always used to say that." A familiar voice said, Shorin Kelal's voice. The man wore blue and green, as always. And his ashendri was in his hand, also as always. All around him stood all the children he took into his custody so long ago. The fifteen that survived the battle. More than the faces that were presented, he saw the faces that wasn't here. Teadra with that eternal smile of her, that never missed a shot with a bow. And her lover, the most ugliest man Lews Therin ever saw, but Teadra loved him. And... There was too many to list, too many he had lost. Too many friends, sons and daughters he had lost in this cursed war.

"You're going to Shayol Ghul today." Shorin Kelal said, somehow, he became the leader of this band. The other simply stared at him. "We will go with you."

"How under the light you have found out?!" He gasped, no one knew, save the Hundred Companions, he hid it even from Ilyena.

"We know you," Dark Aeral said, black hair and clad in dead black, she stared at him accusingly. "you said, when you first started to train us, that you will use us anywhere you need us. And now you decide you don't, why?"

Lews Therin sighed, he had to hide it better, "You will be no use there, Aeral, you know it. You can't channel and -"

"That is why you're taking ten thousands soldiers? Because of the fun of it? You need soldiers, and we don't need you to protect us anymore. Not now, certainly, if you're going to the Pit of Doom, we will go with you." Shorin Kelal was a general in battles for the last ten years. He knew well the voice of command. It also explained how they found out about it, Shorin Kelal knew just about everything about the armies of the Light. He wouldn't ignore the slightest move of forces.

"You don't have a choice, Lews Therin." Aeral said, "One way or the other, we are going with you." The others simply looked. He could simply tie them up with air. They would stay here until some one would sever the flows. He could, Ilyena would wake in an hour. She would free the, and... he owe them too much. He couldn't do this to them.

Sighing, he glared at them, but they stared at him right back. Nothing showed on their faces, they knew him as well as he knew himself and better. They knew they had won, maybe before he knew it.

Muttering under his breath he opened a gateway. They passed through without a word, there was no need of words between them. Sometimes he thought that they could share their thoughts. He had seen them fighting, it was like they all had one mind controlling them. Dancing in the battle like this.

He had taken them into a distant cliff. So far from the world nether the light nor the shadow battled on it. The Hundred Companions waited, none of them rising an eyebrow to the sight of the fools that insisted on coming along. They knew, but they, also, ignore his glares.

Leon Daern came close, smiling faintly at Shorin Kelal, "We are ready, we have close to ten thousands soldiers here." Lews Therin could see it by himself. Men and Women, carrying shocklances. And Ogiers too. Almost twice as tall as normal man. Waited silently. There would be no cheers today. They knew where they were heading too.

"Open the gateways!" He orders, and the sense of saidin filled the air. And the soldiers charged. The Hundred Companions were the first to pass through.

Later, he could never remember clearly what happened. Only images of trollocs and fades and shadowspawn charging. There were always large numbers of shadowspawn near Shayol Ghul. He killed them with saidin or with a blade. The clash of metals rang all around him. Sweet music to his ears.

He was only faintly aware of breaking through the line of shadowspawns. Only that suddenly he had nothing to stop him. And he moved forward, always forward. His target was a hole in the mountain side, not much different than any other. But it pull at him. That was the opening into the Lord of Grave's opening to the world. Into the Pit of Doom. The Hundred Companions were on his side. Leaving the fight for the soldiers, they had a greater target ahead.

"LEWS THERIN," The voice exploded inside his mind, crushing everything. He held into k'doi with fingernails. Wrapping himself in the soft warm of the power. "DRAGON. YOU HAVE COME AGAIN! COME, IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO DIE FOREVER!" He ignored it, tried to. Centering all his attention at the goal he had come to achieve today.

He moved forward, ignoring everything. All he cared about was the seals he carried in his pouch. And the mission they were here to accomplish.

He focused on placing one foot in front of the other. The air itself seemed to resist him. One corner held Ilyena's image, the way she smiled, moved. He would miss her, but what he was doing today wasn't for the world, it was for her, more than all.

Somehow they reached into the Put of Doom, against air that seem to push them back, against ground that seemed to open holes to trip their feet.

He saw, from the corner of his eyes, Ishmael looking at them, stunned, and beautiful Lanfear, a white drop on the black of Shayol Ghul, and Rahvin, and Asmodean, and Graendel, and Semiharge. And all the Forsakens, he pushed the question about what they were doing here for later, if there would be later for him. In a voice that was as dry as death he gave sharp orders, he could barely hear himself. But he could feel the Hundred Companions responding. None of the Forsakens made a move, or touched the True Source. That was strictly forbidden here for them, and even now they didn't dare to defy their Great Lord's orders.

He pulled out the seals from his belt pouch. Taking them in his hands, Seven seals, half shining white, the other dead black. Balance, the symbol of the Aes Sedai for so long. The balance that the Lord of Grave had broken. The Forsakens overcame their shook. And he could feel them filling themselves with the power, felt the tingle in his skin that said that the female Forsakens channeled. He gave them no time to react.

A net of all five powers appeared around them, waved by every last one of the Hundred Companions, pushing them into that lake of fire. "NO!" It was an order that something inside him longed to obeyed to, "YOU WILL NOT TRAP ME AGAIN, DRAGON! NOT THIS TIME!" Something came out of the bore, something so vile that wasn't even registered. Something that struck not at him. But at the link between him and the source. Something flowed into him, into the Hundred Companions, into the male half of the True Source.

He screamed in agony greater than he thought possible. He knew, he understood. He heard other screams behind him, the Hundred Companions, dying maybe. But the light burn him if he would give up now. The net the Hundred Companion wove was still in the air. Still pressing on the bore. He fought against it, whatever it was, that was pouring into him. He could have tried stopping it. But he ignored it, as much as he could. Shaping the flows the Hundred Companions continued to weave. Despite everything. Exactly as he had planned, as he dreamed so many times. Shaping it into the right pattern. Half way though, he already didn't know what he was doing. Continuing doing so only because of inner impulse. Something that was deep inside him. But then he dropped to his knees. The screams behind him hadn't stopped. If anything they had became stronger. He turned his gaze back. More bodies than he could count lied on the ground. Burned by black fire. But the rest. Saidin pulsed in him, and he struck with the power at the horror he saw. Destroying them one by one. But there were too many of them. Too many to fight with and survived. He fled, to the only place where he would be safe, to the place he called home. But those horror chased him there too. And he struck with the power. Defending his home, he wouldn't run away from this place, he would defend it until his last breath. Destroying horrors beyond belief.

He didn't even heard the screaming, or saw the blue eyes woman that faced him. He channeled Air, and she was thrust away. Hitting in a wall hard enough to bounce back, at the same times, flows of Fire and Earth stooped her heart. He barely noticed. Already striking at another monster. Another creature that existed in the madness of his actions alone.

Ok, here are the notes for the second part of the story. I don't like this story. Damn it, I had tears in my eyes when I finished it. Anyway, here is the things I had to take into count writing the story.

First, it was said that after three first years the shadow made major advance. And conquered many territories. But in the next four years, Lews Therin was able to drive them back. I had to find some explanation for this. The other piece of information I had was that Lews Therin had met Ishmael in the gates of Paran Desen and somehow won the battle but didn't kill the Forsaken. I had to think of something to explain this. So I made the Paran Desen's battle. Where they lost most of their soldiers, which would explain how they were winning for three years and losing in the next four. This would explain how this happened.

You also might have noticed the ajah I think that they were divided from before the war of powers. Into several factions. Green is now the battle ajah. It seemed logical that they were so in the Age of Legends also. Gray are now negotiating, and according to the Guide, there were some peace factions in the Age of Legends. So I gave them that color. White are utterly useless. Thinking about logic all day helps no body. I assume that they had to origin somewhere, and those people who denied reality seemed to me a good choice. I can prove you that the skies are yellow, logically. But it won't turn them yellow. The same with the whites. What they do is useless. If they wanted to research, they should have joined the browns. The browns job remained the same. The blue dealing with politic, and since they are known to have the largest networks of eye & ears I made them the spies of the Age of Legends. Since I don't think that there was much to deal with politic in the war. In the guide it's said that Rahvin enjoyed politic, and that he gained more than one territory by negotiating only. But if a land was in the hand of the shadow... there was no way back unless in battle. Since in the Age of Legends any one with the talent could heal almost anything, I didn't bother to make a special ajah for healing. There were Aes Sedai that was very strong in healing, Semiharge, before she turned. But they wouldn't devote their life to healing only. I believe that they had joined one of the other factions, and didn't create an ajah of their own. Only after they lost so much of the knowledge they had they had to create another ajah, so the knowledge wouldn't be lost. The reds, Latra Posae's ajah, I believe that Latra Posae was the cause of the breaking between the genders. The breaking in the Hall of Servants was between male and female. Large numbers of them refuse to even speak to one another.And Latra Posae, even when the end was clear, refused to admit that she was wrong. It sound close enough to a certain red we know. Elaida, and even with so little information, it's more than easy to despite Latra Posae as much as we despite Elaida or more.

And about the children Lews Therin had trained, it seemed to fit him. Rand had changed Mat's course of thought, forcing him to acknowledge duty. It seemed reasonable that he might do the same in the Age of Legends, and considering the life span of Aes Sedai, it is more than logical that he could have taken on himself such project. And another thing to consider about it is that in tSR, when Rand is in the ter'angreal he see a soldier, when the war is over. And the man he was then think, "he was taken to learn war from the age of ten." or some such, it means that they did such things. That was also something I thought of when writing this. If they made soldiers that way, why not making comandos?

Again, I'm not RJ, nor planning to be. I think it was much more cooler if RJ would have write New Spring about the Age of Legends and the War of Shadow instead about Lan and Moiraine. But to make the entire war I would have write something the size of New Spring. If you want it, I'm not the place to look for. Go to RJ and bug him. I took the scenes I think are most probable to appear in the War of Power and wrote them. I truly hope you would like it. And again, special thanks to Lanfir, for the great help.

Last night I posted four stories that I wrote ages ago (8 - 6 years), it has been quite amusing to read them, but they are long, and I don't really have the time to edit them as I would like.

I'm going to post them here as is, and edit them at my liesure later.

Sorry about the grammer and spelling, but do recall that I wrote this a long time ago. I hope that my english improved since then.

When I started this reposting of old stories, I didn't think that it would take so long, or that I wrote so much.

I'm shocked to see how bad my English was (and I shudder to think what I would think about my English right now in ten years). And the stories aren't really very good, but it's good to remember them.

I'll post the rest tomorrow, there are still ~10 of them, and they are the longest (and actually the most interesting).

[Originally posted on as Barid Bel Medar @ 4 June, 1999 ]

[You probably need to read Tower of Midnight before you can understand this story.]

The very top of the Dragonmount held no air for a man to breath in the Waking World. In Tel'aran'rhiod, it mattered nothing. "What need do the dead have in breathing?" The man wondered loudly, he could, with a single thought, stop breathing, call an end to the beating of his heart, and it would matter nothing. "How can the dead die again? Or live again?" He shouted it to the wind, gashing, cold wind that tried to pull him down, to make him fall from his high stand. He laughed at the futile attempts. "I stood before the Dark One in the Pit of Doom, and in front Demandred and Moridin in the slopes of Shayol Ghul," He told the wind, where no wind should be, "You couldn't stop me."

"I didn't think so," A female voice replied, "It's good to see you again among us, Dragon." A woman appeared, young features despite long white hair, she wore a green and yellow skirt, made of thin velvet. And she walked on the air alone toward him.

The man snorted, "It can hardly be good, being dead, Selizan."

"You succeeded, so I understand, and it seemed to me that you're much... calmer than the last time you've appeared in the Unseen world." The woman told him with a twisted grin.

"Did I ever lose?" The man asked, "I search my memory, and as far as I goes, I see not a single battle lost. From the beginning of time, all the battles are won."

Selizan nodded, "That is why you're the Dragon, you know that. There is no one else but you."

The man grimaced at her, "There is no need in such things anymore, you know that, how long before I will be called back for a new life? It would be long for sure."

"It's always so, with you," The woman said, a chair appearing behind her, "You seemed to like the long rest." She added as she sat down.

"Pawh! Long rest!" The man nearly shout in disgust, "Death, real death, has to be more interesting than... this." His hand motioned forward, not only the mountain, but this world, Tel'aran'rhiod was a prison for him now.

"Ancient and powerful and short temper as always," Selizan said, "But I'm not here to make that kind of a conversation with you, Rand al'Thor. It had been half a year, in the waking world, since you died. And you stand here, on your grave and birth place, thinking."

"So they sent you," Rand smiled at the woman, she was his daughter once, in an age long gone, a sister in another, sometimes a mother, most often, their life were tied together. As he born, was she did, before or after, the reverse, however, was untrue. "You are no family this age."

"For the time being," She agreed, "That aiel wife of yours is about to give birth, a matter of days, the last time I checked, maybe she already did, the way time pass here." She glanced at him, he was one of the few that knew how to control the passing of time in Tel'aran'rhiod. Few understood how it was to be done, fewer were capable of doing it.

"I see," His smile was nothing more than baring of teeth. "And you think that you might be born again, as my daughter, again?"

She shrugged, "We are tied together, Dragon. As you well know."

"Tied?" The man wondered, "I remember killing you, is it the tie you meant to?"

She ignored his words, "The rest would have like to welcome you, but... consider the last time, they avoid you, until you'll search for the company."

"I wish no company, Selizan." The man who was the dragon said, "I want my life back, the Light burn my soul!"

Horror painted her face, "You can't!" She whispered, swallowing hard, "you mustn't! It will break every law, laws you have made!"

He simply shrugged, "Laws never hold me before," was all he said, "And you give me a reason for going that is strong enough for me to ignore the laws." His eyes burned, scales appeared on his face, gold and scarlet, for a long moment he simply stare at his hands, where five sharp claws replaced long, delicate fingers. "I will not let my children grow fatherless, nor let my wives grief a man undead!"

Selizan simply stared, "Then go, there is none here that is capable of stopping the Dragon. None will try, you know that. Remember duty, Dragon, if you will try that, you might rip your tie to the Wheel of Time, never to be reborn again, not the way we do."

He laughed, throwing his head back, "There is nothing I hope more than that, Selizan." He said, and jumped, his body changing as he thought himself in another form.

Selizan stared at the cold red and black eyes of the creature, snakelike, huge, shining in the sunlight of Tel'aran'rhiod, sharp teeth were shown as the creature opened his mount, snakelike tongue, as wide as her leg, tasted the air. Then he was gone. Selizan was gone a heartbeat after, they would have to do something, to try to stop that, even though it would probably be futile. It would take him hours, days, maybe weeks, to reach the point where he could slip away from the world of dreams to the waking world safely.

The Dragon may not leave Tel'aran'rhiod.

Egwene walked to the waygate with a fury she didn't even try to control. "I still don't understand why you're so angry." Gawyn noted coldly on her side. "You want to get out of the White Tower, here is your chance, if only for a short time." Sometimes Egwene wished she didn't love the man so much, maybe then she would be able to strangle him.

"It's not this, Gawyn." She said through clenched teeth. "Whoever summoned the Council better have a good reason for this. The Last Battle may be done with. But there are thousands of details I need to take care for."

"Stop this," Gawyn advised, as if he knew enough to do so, her husband or not, Gawyn was Elayne's brother, and an Asha'man beside. She trusted him, he wouldn't tell anything she ask him not to, but there were things she prefer he wouldn't know. Let Logain find it out by himself, if he could. "Logain wouldn't let you gain more power than you already have. You should thank Leana and Toveine for what you have." Egwene clenched her teeth harder, she didn't like hearing this. Only Gawyn knew her enough to make her so angry. And Rand, of course, suddenly she had to blink tears from her eyes. The Council of Light was Rand's idea, Rand's creation. Seven months since the Last Battle, since that horrible battle when she was sure the Light had no chance at all. But despite all, they had won, the price was horrible, but they won. More than three millions dead, but the strategy the Council decided upon won the battle for them.

The Shadow army was almost completely destroyed. But that wasn't were the real battle had taken place, of course, and not where the price was harder to pay. Rand, Nynaeve and Lan, together with nearly hundred thousand soldiers, all of them dead. In a suicide attack on Shayol Ghul. All dead, worse than dead. Their souls taken by the Dark One, Egwene could only guess what the Dark One would do to Rand. Even Halima wasn't chatty about this particular subject.

As always, she hadn't notice passing through the waygate, one moment she was walking in one of the most unused corridors of the White Tower, the other she was in the Hall of the Light. Nobody knew where this place was, save Rand and maybe Logain and Halima and Elayne and Aviendha and none could travel here or from here. White walls changed into stony one, a short corridor into the Hall. "It's not this!" Egwene said, "I have to make sure that the rest of the Shadowspawn will be destroyed, that the army will be dispersed properly, to make sure the Hall will listen to me when I give them their bloody orders, even when they don't understand it. Thousand things to do, and I can do none when I called for useless chats." Halima was a part of the Council, and that was as much a reason as the other one.

"The army is for me to take care for." Gawyn said, he never lost his calm, not since returning from the Black Tower. "And you are angry because it's not Rand who summoned the Council. You're afraid that someone else may want to take his place. He was your friend, Egwene, there is no shame in grieving." The Light alone know what he mean by this, she did grieve Rand, and Nynaeve, and all the friends she lost. But she couldn't afford herself to be weak now.

Now of all time the White Tower must be strong, to guide the world as it had always done, and it wasn't Rand who summoned the Council. Light, he couldn't. He is dead! Rand was the one thing uniting them. He created the Council, and the Council won the Last Battle. But it was Rand that was holding them together, with an iron fist indeed, but he held them together still. Egwene has no idea how sane he was near the end. The orders he gave were mad enough, but mad or not, he had won the last battle. Egwene knew she will always have nightmares about Elayne's face, and Aviendha's and Min's, seeing that flash of light in the north, and knowing Rand was dead.

Gawyn held her shoulder tightly suddenly, she was just about to walk into a wall. "I'm sorry, Gawyn, I ... was thinking too hard." He snort in disbelief, but loosened his grip. They had entered the Hall of Light, a pompous name, but that was Rand's intention. A fairly large room, with close to two dozens chairs, arranged around black and white stone table. Gawyn left her to seat on her chair, above her head the White Flame of Tar Valon shined clearly. Gawyn took his chair on the opposite side of the table. His chair was carve with as a green boar, with the Symbol of Light on the background. As the ancient sign of the Aes Sedai was now called. They were the firsts to arrive, Egwene wished she could cry, Rand was supposed to be here. As much as she hated him when he manipulated her, giving her orders he made sure she would follow, with the results of disobeying being explained to her in details. Rand wanted her to obey him, and he cared nothing about what she thought. But despite everything, she would have given close to everything just to have him again. She would even be happy to hear him threatening on her. It was as ridiculous as it was true.

It hadn't taken long before Logain entered the Hall. He was, as always, dressed all in black silk, with two matching pins in each side of his collar, a dragon wounding itself around a sword. He was walking the same way Gawyn did, as if he would begin to dance or fight in the next step. The woman that followed him looked as if she was created to please men. Dark hair surrounding oval face and green eyes. Beautiful enough to make any man stare. She was dressed in the same fashion as Logain, high collar black coat and breaches as black, two pins on her collar, a sword and a dragon. The only female Asha'man.

It didn't require thought, Egwene touched saidar and wove fire. Flame strong enough to burn stone surrounded Halima. The woman stepped out of it, smiling! The fire didn't touch her. "Egwene, how nice of you to give me such a... warm welcome." She was ready for this, of course, Halima knew exactly how much she had hated her. She had very good reasons.

"Halima," Gawyn rose from his chair, smiling at the woman. Gawyn was her warder for a long time now. And had she noted the slightest bit of attraction to the woman she would have killed them both! But there was only affection in his voice, in the bundle of his feelings in the back of her head! Affection! "You shouldn't tease Egwene so." Was she the only one that wasn't blind to the woman? She was one of the Forsaken!

There seemed to be true warmth in Halima's smile, the woman had fooled her for a long time. No longer, but now everyone else seemed to be fooled instead. Light, Rand didn't trust her, but he gave Halima his trust fully. Halima! "One more time, Egwene." Logain said pleasantly, "and I will give you to Halima. I am sure she could cure you from that bothersome hate to her." Halima smiled faintly, hope visible in her eyes.

"Would you, Logain?" Halima asked, her voice high with sudden hope. "I can make sure she will more... open to some suggestion you would make for her." Gawyn growled something, his mouth moved, but she heard not a sound, a shield against eavesdropping, from her! Halima looked at him and nodded slowly, Logain simply smiled.

"As you say, Asha'man Gawyn." Halima said, "But promise to tell me the next time you two will have a fight, I can convince her not to be angry with you." Egwene wished she could kill the woman, but Halima was stronger in the One Powerthan any woman in the White Tower. And she guarded herself twice as much as any Asha'man near an Aes Sedai. Egwene had already tried to convince Asha'mans to kill her, she tried everything, from bribe to treats. Nothing convinced one of the black clad men to do anything except mock her.

"Why you summoned the meeting, Logain?" She asked, maintaining a calm voice and face was the hardest thing she did in her life.

"I didn't," the man replayed slowly, "I thought you did. Where are the others?" He sounded as if he was telling the truth. So far, save twice, Rand was the only one summoning those meeting. In those two times, everything seemed to be ready to crush down on them, each time, it was Rand who saved them, barely.

"They will be here shortly, I assume. Wait," Gawyn said, as calm as a lake in midwinter. He sat back in his chair, Logain and Halma took theirs. Halima was marked  with the a big cat's face, with fangs shaped as the Dragon's tooth, a sign of evil since the Breaking. The sign for saidin, in the Age of Legends. For once, Egwene agreed to the sign, it was Halima's choice. A fitting once. Logain's sign was a dragon wounding itself around a silver sword, the same as his pin, only the sign held the Symbol of Light in the background, it was the Black Tower's sign.

None of them talked, there was nothing she had to say to Logain, and Gawyn could all but read her mind. Halima, she would give only death or discomfort. Halima watched the two men with open interest. For herself, Egwene leaned back in her chair, staring at Gawyn. He had changed much since the day she had bonded him. Not just Rand finding out that he had the spark, but in other ways also. He was an Asha'man, with every meaning of the word. She pained every moment away from him while he learned to use the power, feared with every breath that he might burn himself out. Or kill himself during learning. He refused to go the Black Tower, foolishly declaring that he can refuse to touch the True Source if he doesn't wish it. Rand had his way with him, as he seemed to have with everyone. Egwene didn't understand how the Asha'man arranged rank between themselves. All she knew that it had nothing about strength in the power, or age. Gawyn held a high position in the Black Tower, that was all Egwene knew. Gawyn refused to explain it to her, saying only that it was a matter of the Black Tower and no the White.

Her eyes shifted to Logain, he leaned back in his chair, he had white in his hair, Egwene heard Halima saying once that all he needed was to be little bit taller and ten years older to look like Lews Therin's brother. He ruled the Black Tower ever since Taim... disappeared, not long after Rand and Nynaeve cleaned the taint. Rand admitted killing Taim, so Elayne said, but nothing more could be dragged out of the woman, nor from anyone else. The Black Tower held its secrets well, nearly as well as the White Tower held its own secrets. All she knew was that more than one hundred Asha'mans had disappeared after the Cleansing. It was something to wonder about, had Taim gone mad, and the others? Or had Rand simply killed the man when he learned about Logain? Either way, Rand trusted Logain, and like him. What couldn't have been said about Taim.

Halima made her angry simply by seating strait in her chair, toying with a single golden bracelet. Her only other piece of jewelry was a thin golden necklace with a emerald stone hanging down her throat. Her eyes were far off. The woman had used the power on her, used it so she agreed to anything the woman suggested. The second time she was a puppet.

She was one of the Forsakens, but Rand trusted her with his life. Rand, it all centered around Rand, or so it seemed. With him dead, she would never understand all his moves, there seemed to be no limit to the amount of things he could handle at the same time. More than once, she thought everything was about to crush, and every last time Rand had done something to save everything, often it was more than risky, as often, it was pure luck that save them all. Twice that she knew about Rand had showed cruelty that made even Halima disgusted.

Egwene wasn't sure how human Rand was at the end. He was swallowed entirely in winning the Last Battle. But it was Halima she thought about, not Rand. In a way, it was Logain who saved her, equally strong in saidin, the battle between him and Halima could've ended with the death of either one of them, or both. She still remember how she tried to protect the woman, when Logain traveled into her study, while Halima played with her like a puppet. And she would make sure she would pay, sooner or later. She savored on the memory of Halima's face, heartbeats after Logain threw himself on her, kissing her. She will carry to her grave the memory of this. Asha'man bonded by a kiss, and a warder had to obey her Asha'man. Halima accepted her defeat gracefully, Egwene admitted bitterly. What she still hadn't understood was why Rand hadn't killed the woman. She knew Logain had brought her to Rand. And she knew exactly how much Rand hated any of the Forsaken. Egwene couldn't even begin to understand what was happening between Halima and Logain. The man had two other warders save Halima. Toviene and Leane at least belonged to Light. Halima had sworn her soul to the Shadow. Only the bond kept her loyal to Logain. How could such a woman be trusted was beyond her. And why Rand allowed it was a mystery she didn't even bother thinking about. Rand did strange things more often than not.

The sound of soft steps was the only warning she had as Mat entered the Hall, quieter than the night and twice as grim, he was clad in blood red and dark green, the Band's colors. A white hand on the left side of his breast. Tuon was a step before him, her soft thread sounding loud next to Mat's complete silence. Egwene smiled at Mat, although inside she grieved for him as much as she did Rand. Mat's eyes never rested, even here, he constantly searched for danger. He was the closest thing to a warder for Tuon as can be reached without the One Power.

"Egwene," Tuon said, her voice icy. "You were the one summoning this meeting?" Rand wanted peace in the world, and she wasn't the only one who felt the edge of Rand's sword on her throat. Tuon didn't like it one bit more than Egwene herself did, but she had no more choice. Rand gave the world a peace, The Peace Of The Sword. The Council was his way of reminding her, and others, that they had to obey. Tuon probably hated being force to obey even more than she did.

Mat simply nodded at her, he didn't return her smile. He hardly smiled at all, this days. The light of amusement in his eyes, as if he could always find a funny side in everything had faded. Mat threatened to switch her the last time she tried to question him about the problems he was neck deep in. She thought he meant it. He was the only man in the world, save the Asha'man, that could make this threat to her. She knew few things, she had only three eyes-and-ears in Sendar, but what she knew was enough to grieve Mat. There was no love between him and Tuon, why he had married the woman was a mystery to her. She thought him wiser.

"I didn't; and Logain claim he hadn't." She said, it wasn't that she hated Tuon, not exactly. But she couldn't like the woman. Mat sat down on his chair, a silver fox, with ravens on each of the fox's shoulders. More than fitting to the Empress' Hands, as he was known in Seanchan. She had only three eyes-and-ears in Sendar, but it was more than enough to know how deeply Mat had changed. It wasn't only the lack of life in his eyes, Shen an Calhar was feared worst than the Seekers in Seanchan. Close to fifty thousands soldiers, they had quelled down three rebellions, facing odds of three to one at best. Mat had never lost a battle. Rumors connected Mat to Tuon's mother's death. And to the deaths of the leaders of the rebellions. Egwene had been forced to believe this, she had no idea how Mat had done it, Seanchain nobles guarded themselves more than any king, and for good reasons. But everyone opposing Tuon had simply died, usually in their beds, their throats slit open wide, and every last time Mat wasn't in the Court of the Nine Moons when the murders took place. Tuon ruled well, but Egwene wondered if she knew how much she owed to Mat. Being an Empress didn't make her invulnerable to knifes. Mat was the one who made sure that no noble in Seanchan would even consider disobeying Tuon. Those who did died.

Tuon took her own chair, near Mat, a raven in dive, surrounded by nine silver moons. "Then who?" Tuon demanded. "I don't like this place." Neither did Egwene.

"I suggest you would wait, Empress." Mat said, she had never heard him calling Tuon anything but Empress. He turned to Gawyn, speaking in a voice too low for her to hear without embracing the One Power. Logain rose from his chair and moved closer. The three men speaking quietly, Logain rose his head once to glare at Tuon, before returning his attention to the conversation. Tuon stared at her husband, she had a dagger in her hands, she was toying with it. Egwene suspected that she wanted more than toy with the dagger. Mat walked on the razor's edge with Tuon. Halima was still deep in her thoughts, Egwene would have given much to know what the woman was thinking about. Something vile, no doubt.

The dagger disappeared from Tuon's hands, she leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. She seemed to be sleeping. It was a habit she had, she thought better that way, so she claimed. She had let her hair grow, a violation of Seanchain customs. Dark hair that reached her shoulders. That was the only change in her since Mat married her. For reasons Egwene couldn't understand, he didn't seem to love her. Nor she him, but he let her command him in a way that made Egwene open her mouth in astonishment, no matter how many times she had seen it. Not for the first time, she thought about asking Tuon how she had done so. If only she wasn't so arrogant..

"Egwene," The voice behind her made her jump out of her chair, she gave Elayne a strong, careful hug. Gawyn left Mat and Logain, and bowed to Elayne. "Stop this, Gawyn." Elayne berated him, only faintly smiling. "We're not in the Lion Palace." Stepping back from Elayne, Egwene examined her. Elayne wore a green dress, and her pregnancy was visible. Elayne looked almost as she always did, glowing with health, yet her eyes were tinged with red. Egwene couldn't imagine how it was like for her, losing Rand. How Elayne could endure such a lose? Egwene's heart cringed only thinking about losing Gawyn. Helping his sister seat, Gawyn was half overjoyed seeing Elayne. Half worried over her. Elayne chair's, of course, was carved in Andor's Lion, white on red field. Birgitte hadn't moved more than three steps away from Elayne. She hadn't since the day Rand died. Despite everything Elayne had said to her, Birgitte couldn't protect Elayne from what harmed her now. But she could give some comfort.

Her chair, the one next to Elayne, was marked with a single silver arrow, on dark green field. "How are you?" Gawyn asked, suddenly his face flushed, "I meant..."

Elayne touched his face fondly with one hand, "It's all right, Gawyn." But her eyes were dark, Birgitte laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'll be fine." She will never be, Egwene knew. Sometimes Egwene thought that the only thing that kept Elayne from dying was having Rand's child. "Aviendha will not come, I fear. She is too busy taking care for Teadra." That was another thing to wonder, Rand had married Elayne and Aviendha and Min. Why Elayne agreed to this, how could Elayne agree to this, was another thing that Egwene couldn't understand. Their seemed to be too much she hadn't understood. She reminded herself to visit Aviendha, Light, she was just too busy being an Amyrlin to visit her friends, this would have to change. But above all that, she knew that Rand had made Elayne more happy than she was ever was. And Aviendha and Min too. It was all that she cared, in the end.

"How is Aviendha? And Teadra?" She asked, it was strange of Aviendha, giving her daughter one Birgitte's names. Or maybe it was Rand's choice. Though he hadn't lived to see Teadra, of course.

"Aviendha is sleeping," Birgitte replayed from her chair, she hadn't looked at her, her eyes were on Elayne, "she needs to sleep. Teadra has a good lungs, and she like to show them. The girl has to learn the meaning of the word silence." But her smile was all too wide. She was as proud in Teadra as Aviendha was. Elayne's warder was just as protective and motherly with Min's son, Rand lived to see his son, at least. And Lezan was eight months old already.

"Will Min come?" Min parted her time between her son and her books, Egwene had no idea what she loved more. Egwene hoped she would, too long since she had seen her too.

Elayne laid a hand on her stomach, groaning and muttering something barely audible. "She will," She said, Elayne was impatient to have her own baby. To stop the baby's kicking as much as for any other reason, so she claimed. No one believed her. "She wanted to finish reading a page before she would come." Not surprising, with Min. The woman loved books as much as she did Rand.

"You have only a month more to bear, sister." Gawyn said cheerfully, "I'm sure it's not that bad." Elayne's glare slide right past him, "Beside, I doubt if there is any other way to have the baby." Halima laughed softly to this.

"Wait until Egwene will have a baby, Gawyn. Then you will understand fully how bad it's. I wish I didn't have to kill Osan'gar, maybe he could have planned a more comfortable way." The dark woman said. Egwene stared at her sharply, she couldn't be implying that she was... No, it was simply impossible.

Elayne nodded to herself, staring at Logain's warder, "How long?" Halima became red, her eyes lying on Logain, she said nothing.

"Did I missed something?" Min's voice was as throaty as always, but she looked even sadder than Elayne was, which took something.

Halima sprang from her chair, she was the first to reach Min. For some reason, Min liked Halima. Logain began to move also, but stopped as soon as Halima reached Min. "Oh, Light," Min breathed, "I'm not that weak." A Trolloc's spear in her side nearly killed her, in the Last Battle, and she nearly died before she was healed. It did nothing to stop Halima. Min's chair was carved as a hawk with fierce eyes, floating over white clouds.

Mat had watched with cold eyes, not even bothering to make a show of caring. What happened to him, to change him so much? "Only three more before we can start," He said, "When will Narishma and Mierin appear?" They were in Shara, ruling the country and the Silver Tower both. That was all she knew, the Gray Asha'man never spoke to anyone unless spoken to, and nothing made them talk about their homeland.

"I talked with Mierin few hours ago," Halima said, no wonder, both women belonged to the Shadow. Yet it seemed impossible to take down Mierin. Aes Sedai weren't allowed in Shara, and although the blues had more than few eyes-and-ears in that distant land, the reports held more lies than truth. "She said they would come, but they might be late, there was an.. emergency there, and Mierin seemed... eager to take care of that." What was the woman talking about?

"And that means?" Gawyn asked, as always, making her feel that her mind was entirely exposed to him.

Halima giggled! "They were held back by a group of their children, they shouldn't have adopted so much of those who were born to the women who could channel in Shara. The other Gray Asha'man could handle that."

"With the warders they have?" Logain inquired, "They have too much troubles keeping their throats whole to have time to take care for children. And the Black Tower has taken as much as it could already."

"Six thousands only, Logain." Halima replied, "We can have twice as much easily!"

"Argue later!" The man stepped out of the shadows, as dark as the woman near him was pale. Ilyena Sunhair, as she was once called, Nemesis, as she named herself now. She wasn't Valir's warder, nor he was her, not as far as Egwene knew. But the two rarely seen away from one another. "Who summoned us?"

"I did," Mat replied.

"Why hadn't you told me this, Husband!" Tuon hissed.

"You never asked," His voice was cold as ice. "All we've now to do is to wait for Mierin to show up, only then I can give you the reason for this summon."

Gawyn touched her hand, "Hold on, dear. There will be here shortly."

Egwene sniffed at him arrogantly, "I do hope so!"

"When you were named Jaem Giant-Slayer I fought by your side, as we slay the Giant Mosk." The woman stood in front of him, her hair, and her temper, resembled very much a hot flame. "When the Dark One broke free of his prison I fought by your side, Lews Therin! I fought the Trolloc Wars, seen my land die and die with my country! I am as committed to this as you are, Dragon! And I will not allow you to do what you're planning."

"My name is Rand al'Thor," He said softly, coldly, the softness of a blade drawn, the coldness of a fresh grave. "What is the name you use, this days? Alsbet, the Queen of All, who battled the Giant Mosk. Or should I name you Telidar Therin Mirlil, and call you sister? Or do you go by the name Eldrene ay Ellan ay Carlan, and still grief lost Manetheren? Be the name you go by as it may be, you can't stop me."

"No," The man by her side agreed, "None of us can, not by ourselves, Dragon. You can best the best, here, and in the waking world, to whom you will not return. You may not return. The law is clear. A law you have forged yourself! You are the dragon, you cannot allow yourself take the risk!"

"Indeed, Hawkwings." Rand agreed, his eyes far off, how long ago he created this law. "But there are times where not even I can abide the law. Sometimes, the price is too heavy." Arthur began to open his mouth, but Rand raise a hand tiredly. "Can you truly tell me that I do not deserve it? When did I last lived a life without storms of battle and winds of war? When wasn't I directed by duty and honor and the Dark One's defeat? Don't I, too, deserve to live a life free of war, life where I will not have to guard my back, or fear for those who I dear? Don't I have the right for it? Haven't I paid enough to have it? Tell me that I do not deserve it, Artur Hawkwing. Tell me, and I will remain here. Say it loud and clear, so I know your words for true! Say it, if you can!"

"You have earned that right more than any of us here, Dragon. Thousand fold more than any of us ever had, but you still may not go. Duty bind you, Dragon. And you must disregarded it, not once in all of your life times." The woman fell silent, everything in her showed that she was sure she had won the argument.

"Then maybe it's time for me to begin," Rand said coldly, "There are times, sister. When even duty empty itself of all content. Enough is enough, I've given enough of myself, long enough, to do as I please."

"A lovely speech, Lews Therin." Another man shimmered near them, rumors flied fast, here as elsewhere. "I just wonder who you're trying to convince. Her or yourself."

"Why did you summon the council?" Gawyn asked, neither Logain nor Halima seemed even slightly surprised. Mat produced three balls of nowhere and began juggling them in the air, leaning back in his chair. "I will tell you when Mierin show up."

Elayne drew herself up, "I don't have the time to wait, Matrim Cauthon!"

"You do," Halima said calmly, "The baby wouldn't be born for at least a month, I can promise you that."

Elayne gave a start, her hand touching her stomach before her eyes turned into cold storm. "What have you done to me?"

Halima stared at her for a moment, "I did nothing, I simply checked how is the baby. Do you want to know the gender?"

"The gender?" Elayne stared at the dark woman in shocked surprise. Then she shocked her head, "No, I think I better not. I would like to be surprised."

Halima shrugged, "As you wish, although I doubt that you'll enjoy the... surprise."

Logain threw his head back and laughed, ignoring the hard glares Halima and Elayne gave him. There was nothing funny in Halima's words.

"They are coming," Gawyn said quietly. Egwene heard them too, anyone could hear them, they argued in voices loud enough to be heard on Tar Valon! The subject, however, was unclear. Someone about a boy or a man named Seleamon was all she managed to hear before they fell silent. Narishma eyes, as always, seemed to penetrate into the back of her skull, reading her mind. Mierin, as well, looked just as she always did. Cold and cool, with blue eyes that revealed nothing and her hair falling back, the silvery hair making stunning contrast against the black she constantly wore now.

"Now they are here," Egwene said sharply to Mat, not letting the couple that came in to say a word. "Why are we here?"

"Very simple," Mat replied, then waited for Narishma and Mierin to seat down. Mierin was smiling haughtily at her direction. Narishma frowning. Mierin's chair had a white stars that made the from of a hawk. Narishma's chair was decorated with a gray tower on the background of the ancient symbol of Aes Sedai. "I've my orders. And they were... very strict."

"Orders, husband?" Tuon said with a placid voice, "Who can give you orders, save me?" The last two words weren't said aloud, yet they hand in the air nevertheless.

"Rand al'Thor." Mat answered without a moment of hesitation. Elayne gasped. Logain tensed, but Halima relaxed, she nodded to herself, half smiling, as if this was just the thing she expected. Toun kept her face calm. The others, hope and fear, mingled together. In her as well in others. Mat opened his mouth again, and repeated his words, deepening the shock, "My orders came from Rand al'Thor, the Dragon bloody Reborn." He sound as if he hardly believed his own words, "A man dead for more than half a year."

Yes, it ends here, incomplete. Sorry about that

No creature of the Blight entered deep cave in the Mountains of Dhoom. No Shadowspawn would have dared. Not even a direct command from one of the Chosen, or from the Great Lord of Dark itself would have convinced any to go down to the depth of that cave. The Chosen themselves wouldn't have entered that cave unless ordered by the Great Lord. For what lied in there was deadly in potential even to them. Yet, despite the danger, now one invaded the cave, walking down a rocky path into endless darkness.

A mydraal, clad in the dead black all fades wore, stepping with a ball of darkness lightening its way in silver light. Taller than any Myrdraal, Shaidar Haran stepped down into the forbidden cave in the Blight. A secret long forgotten, the chosen knew its secret, as well as the Great Lord himself, and now Shaidar Haran as well. None other knew about this place, and the dragon must never learn. The myrdraal reached the end of the tunnel, he stepped lightly, the place was dangerous, very much dangerous, especially for the like of him.

The slivery light shined over metallic scales in gold and red, and the Hand of Dark took a step back. For the first time in his life, Shaidar Haran felt fear. The creature was fifty feet long, and at least five feet thick. The head lied over the body, it was easily as big as Shaidar Haran's body, capable of swallowing him in one snatch. The creature lied asleep, a snake the size of a small house. Sharp teeth could be seen through half open mouth, fully open, it would be taller than Shaidar Haran by three feet.

A fearsome creature, even to the Hand of the Dark. More fearsome for it was no shadowspawn, nor any creature of the dark.

A dragon, the most deadliest creature on earth, only THE dragon could control the creature.

The dragon created them, only twelve, and only this one survived the War of Power, even after three thousands years, Shaidar Haran felt the creature breathing in its sleep. Like a strong wind, he stared down at his cloak, troubled, no wind could move his cloak, nor the strongest storm on earth, but his cloak, to the breath of this creature, moved.

A night black sword appeared in his hand, and he put it an inch from the Dragon's eye, there could be not much of armor here, the closed eyelid couldn't protect the eye from a sword sharper than any razor, and then his sword would find the brain, quick death for the last of the dragons.

But he sheathed his sword with an inaudible sigh, he had his orders. And he wouldn't disobey a direct command from the Great Lord, yet. And he was warned that countless thousands died in order to try harming the last dragon, none even awaked the creature.

He turned his back to the creature, and walked away.

There would be no trouble from this direction, he dared hope, the dragon slept, may the Great Lord gaurd its dreams through out eternity. Shaidar Haran felt strength in the creature, the same as he felt when he watched the Dragon Reborn, the ancient enemy of his master.

It meant nothing, it would sleep until the end of time, or die in its sleep, if they had any luck.

Deep in the cave in the Mountains of Doom, a dragon woke, stretching limbs unused for over two thousands years. He had waken to the Trolloc wars, a wonderful time for the like of the dragon. There was much food then. Now, he had been awoken again, and the reason was still unknown to it.

It was a beautiful sight, seeing the Dragon moving, a snake-like creature moving on four strong feet, claws bigger than a man's arm, sharper than daggers. Slowly, he exit the cave that was its home for so long, all it took was one swing of that huge tail, twelve feet long, covered with armed scales, and the entrance collapsed. It smelled the air, a scent reached its nose, the sweet odor of a Trolloc and the even sweeter of a Myrdraal. It hadn't feast for thousands of years, it was hungry. VERY hungry.

It began to run, following the smell, ready to hunt.

The dragon lift its head from its twenty seventh Trolloc, growling at the skies. a piece of myrdraal's cloth still hung to his mouth, it was ripped apart with one motion of it's left front leg. The call was being heard again, the sound that awoke it.

The sound it made could be describe only as a song. A dragon answering to the call he was being bred to answer to the call. It began to ran, faster than any horse, it would keep this rate until it would reach its master. Lews Therin Telamon, Rand al'Thor, as they named him in this age.

The lord of the dragons!

What would have happened if... Rand and Sammael killed each other in Shadar Logoth

The flows needed to balefire gathered themselves almost without Rand being aware of it. And he was ready to weave it when he saw flows of saidin reaching for the figure in front of the gateway. The image of the Forsaken dissipated in the air. An illusion, he searched for the source of those weaves as he felt a gateway being woven.

Throwing himself forward he draw his sword and whirled to face Sammael, the Forsaken steeped through the gateway, a once handsome man but now with a scar that lingered from hairline to jaw. Rand remembered the day he gave Sammael that scar when on Rorn M'doi. The man carried a sword black as midnight, Sammael was the one who forged it, with the aid thirty-one dreadlords and thirty-two Myradraals. It was said that this sword destroyed the souls of those it killed and knowing Sammael Rand didn't dare to doubt it. Shadar, that was how it was called, The Shadow in the old tongue. Sammael was full with the One Power, he held only a bit less then Rand himself did. But only Ishmael ever managed to match him.

"I never thought you could lay your hand on that again. There should have been something good in the breaking." Shadar moved like a serpent tongue, searching for blood. At the same time Sammael waved Spirit and Fire in order to sever the shield Rand created. Rand didn't bother with mentioning it, and answered the Parting of Silk with the Sparrow Rising. Fire and Air and Spirit completed the attack, and Sammael jumped back to avoid the screen of fire that shot from the floor.

"You will never know what you might find in a Stasis Box, Lews Therin. Come, it is time to die." Sammael snarled at him. The Moon over Water met the Tumbling Stone, and Rand block half a dozen weaves that meant to destroy him.

"This time you will not escape, Tel Janin, as you did in Rorn M'doi and in Nol Caimaine and Suhadra. This time you will meet justice." He started to press on, thirteen weaves were his limit, and he was pushing it. This time he broke the floor under Sammael's feet, and called lightings to strike the man. Sammael weave Air to block the lightnings and Fire and Air to make a bridge. Rand's sword left a red trail over Sammael's left sleeve. The Forsaken couldn't block the Wind over the Wall, as he should have. But the Forsaken did managed to kick Rand's left foot, so the blade cut his arm and not his chest.

This kind of game they played hadn't shown on the world for more then three Thousands years, swords and blades and limbs and the One Power joined together to create a deadly dance. They were both experts in that method of battle, Sammael from the War of Power and Rand from his memories of the same War.

They moved now on a platform, nothing left from the tower, a bridge woven from Air and Fire, Rand wasn't sure which one of them created it. He sent weaves and invert the flows that hold them in the air, now Sammael couldn't see the platform they where standing on. He would have to feel his way through or he might fall over the edge. In a moment another bridge appeared and inverted. Sammael created a bridge for himself. Rand's side ached, even within the void, a scratch on his face bled, where Shadar found a hole in his defense. He couldn't tell for his life how long they where fighting.

"So you do have some skills, Lews Therin." Sammael said as he moved back from him, now there was forced respect in his voice. "Do you care for this… Elayne, Lews Therin? A girl that looks so much like the wife you murdered surely would be an interest for you? Do you mean to slay her too, Kinslayer? Or do you think giving her Andor would some how make up for you? For what you have done?" Rand staggered back, his sword moved to block Sammael's attacks but his heart wasn't in it. The Forsaken's words hurt him more then any wound could ever be. "Are you still so softhearted that you will be sorry for her death, Lews Therin? Are you, Rand al'Thor?" If he hoped to weaken Rand again he was mistaken, a cold light burned in his eyes, and his only answer was the quickening speed Rand moved his sword.

"She is probably already dead anyway. There are still Gholams in this age; someone had kept one inside a stasis box. And I sent it after her; her channeling would do nothing to help her against it. If you like to have her, I'm certain that I can manage do it; you want a leg or an arm? Maybe the whole head?" Sammael's voice was dry, and the ordinary tone he had used only made his words more horrible.

If there was a Gholam out there, and if he was really after Elayne… now Rand gave up defending at all, sword and limbs joined together to busy Sammael as he waved a sword from all Five Powers. He sent it to Sammael, with all the power he could master, enough to level all Shadar Logoth, enough to create mountains and move oceans. Now it was Sammael who draw back, eyes widening in fear, he knew what this weave could do to him. He severed the weave, but Rand waved another, and another. Each of them severed, but now Sammael had to use all the amount of saidin he could master to defend himself. Rand's sword found  again and again; another red trail joined the one on Sammael's sleeve. And then another, just beneath his eye.

"Burn you, Lews Therin." He shouted at Rand as another weave severed, the Forsaken couldn't fight with the One Power and with the sword together, at least not while he had to defend himself from a weave that was more than deadly to him but meaningless to Rand. Then he tried to attack Rand, with both sword and the One Power. Rand didn't even bother to split his weaves, falling on the his back to escape from the balefire the Forsaken weave he didn't stop to reweave his own weapon, Sammael gave too much power to the balefire and Rand's weave reached its target.

The Forsaken screamed; a scream full of agony and pain, for a moment there seemed to be two of him, as the bond to his lord had been severed. Two images of Sammael, moving away from each other but after a heartbeat they joined together. The Forsaken's sword fell, and he seemed to be on the brink of falling to his knees. His eyes looked… lost. Saidin left him slowly.

Rand scrambled to his feet, fear nearly break through the void, if he was wrong about the black wires he would have been dead. Sammael stared at him, beaten, but this Forsaken wouldn't find Asmodean's fate. His sword found its way to the man's rib, sinking through the flesh to Sammael's hearth, if he still had one.

Sammael stare at the blade in his chest, "If I will die, Lews Therin, I will take you with me." He whispered. saidin returned to him, a raging flood that was more than Sammael could handle even if he wasn't dying. Rand moved back when he understood what the Forsaken was doing, too late he tried to shield the man. Tried to shield himself from what he knew was coming, but he was  too late. His last thought was sorrow that he would be able to tell Elayne and Aviendha that he loves them.

Sammael exploded; fire hot enough to burn stone to cinders shot in all directions, burning every thing in its path. Rand's body burn immediately, the saidin he held added to the destruction as white hot lightning connected the earth and the sky again, as it did more then three thousands years ago.

A valley was now expanding, a valley big enough to be call an sea, a river that once passed few riding hours from the city now poured into the new valley, promising that there would be a sea where once Shadar Logoth stand.

From the city nothing left, the fire burned anything it touched, purifying the thing it touched. Noting left of the tainted city. Mashadar itself manage somehow to survive the fire, but had give up as the lightning came at him, burning the creature that needed the night's darkness to protect it.

For two thousands years there had been a city there, those who knew its name feared it, and those who traveled in it never returned untouched. Now there was new hope for the place, burned by fire and purified by lightning, the place so many years tainted was clean.

On Cairhien, Allanna screamed as the bond between her and Rand was gone. The grief she only now managed to control came back ten times as strong. She wasn't aware of Amys helping her to seat. "What happened to you, Aes Sedai?" Sorilea asked in a firm voice. The Wise Ones might be scornful for Aes Sedai but they knew better then to think that an Aes Sedai start screaming for no reason.

"Rand, he is dead." Allanna answered, Sorilea voice affected her as if she had been thrown into cold water. She knew what she had to do now, that was the very least she could do for Rand. She rose to her feet and went out of the tent. Blinking away tears she knew she would shed for many nights she walked to the city, she had to meet Min. Somehow she knew that Rand would want her to tell his lover personally that he was….

The only chance of humanity had gone, she ignored the Wise Ones shouts behind her, she had something to do first.

Rand stood on what was once Shadar Logoth, staring at the sea that was filling beneath him, he was dead. 'Burn me if I am not dead,' he thought grimly, memories seemed to come back to him. As if they were always there but he had never noticed them before. Memories of old battles welled up in him. Women he loved, rules he made but never cared to obey. Memories, lives, love. All that came on him, like a wave that almost crushed him.

He knew where he was, now. And the world of dreams shifted around him, first things were first, but after he would meet some old friends, he had no intention in the world of staying dead, no intention at all.

Elayne watched Egwene sadly as the woman departed Tel’aran’rhiod; the sense that they were being watched was stronger this night. And Elayne didn’t like staying here alone. She wished she could see Rand, wished she could find out where Mat bloody Cauthon was hiding. Well, there were things that weren’t possible even here. She already sent Birgitte to see what she could find in the city about Mat. And the only way for her to see Rand was in her dreams, at least until she would find out how to make the Bowl of the Winds work.

She left the dream. Tried to, anyway, nothing happened. Aghast, she tried to leave Tel'aran'rhiod again, and again, nothing changed. Moghedien she thought, The World of Dream was a place Moghedien knew of more than anyone else. And Elayne knew very well that she had no chance facing the Forsaken even if this would come to fighting with saidar. And she had no chance either in trying to leash the woman. Desperately she tried to reach for saidar, and was so stunned on succeeding that she lost her grip in the True Source.

"Why under the light would Moghedien force me to stay in the world of dreams but won’t shield me?" She murmured, Moghedien wasn’t one to take chances.

"Sometimes Aes Sedai are so smart that they are quite foolish." Said Rand from behind her. That familiar voice she dreamed hearing almost every night gave her a start, and she whirled backward so fast that she stumbled on her own feet. Rand was just… there, catching her; she didn't see him crossing the space between them.

"How did you came here, Rand?" She asked a moment latter, when she managed to take her hands off him, “You came here in the flesh, didn’t you? Nynaeve told you that this is dangerous, haven’t she?” disappointingly Rand stepped away from her, and from all the things in the world he looked amused!

"You might say that I’m here in the flesh, Elayne. But you can’t say I have a choice." He stopped for a moment and observed her closely. "I’m dead."

Fear nearly overcame her, it took great effort to keep her face straight; if he was going mad already… but then a new thought came to her. Birgitte had been dead also, but she lived here. She was a hero, of course, but so was Rand, in a way. It was hard to be in grief for someone that stood in front of her. She opened her mouth but Rand foretold her, "You know what happened to Birgitte, don’t you? She somehow managed to survive what Moghedien did to her. Arthur said that she had been here after Moghedien… chased her away."

Her eyes bulged, how could he know this… Arthur, Arthur Hawkwings! This is going too weird for me, she thought.

"How did you do this, Elayne? I can do anything Moghedien did, and I know how to do this, but this only mean that I will kill myself, and there would be no Tel’aran’rhiod after that death.”

Elayne took a deep breath and started talking, telling him everything that happened to her and Nynaeve since Tear. He listened to her carefully, sometimes asking her a question or two. When she finished he looked more amused than anything else. "It will not suffice for me, not one." He said finally.

"What are you talking about, Rand. If it worked for Birgitte it will work for you too."

"I’m not a woman, if you hadn’t noticed." He answered irritably, "Haven’t you noticed that the bond between you and Birgitte is stronger than the normal." He must have seen something is her face because he didn’t even let her open her mouth. "And yes, here I can be a woman." His body flickered for a moment, a woman stood in front of her, a female copy of Rand, then he return to his body, without slowing the torrent, though he did looked pale, "So you can forget about this." Elayne almost grinned, the thought only crossed her and she didn’t like the idea of Rand returning as a woman anymore than he apparently did.

"What would happen if I would link with Aviendha and then bond you? Will this be suffice to keep you alive?" The words coming out of her mouth gave her a start, she didn’t want to share Rand anymore than she had to, and she want Rand’s bond at least all to herself. If her word surprised her they had stunned Rand, "I… think that this should work. It would be on the edge but it should work. But we must do today, now if you can do it will be more than good."

"Why?"” she asked him, of course she meant to do it as quickly as. Did he think she wanted to see him continue to be dead?

"There are things we mustn’t do, I wrote the prohibitions, and obey them, for long time. It’s hard to break such habits."

They talked for a few more moments, nothing important and then she closed her eyes and exited the dream, she had to wake Aviendha. Rand said he would give her half an hour before he will try to duplicate what Moghedien did to Birgitte.

As quickly as she could she woke Aviendha staffed her into her cloths while trying to dress herself and explaining the Aielwoman, what happened seemed impossible. But in a half an hour they were ready, and when Rand appeared, seemingly from the air and nearly fell on Aviendha they managed to bond him.

Elayne felt the bond being established, felt the weakness that was the result of what he had done. But unlike Birgitte he didn’t woke after an hour or so, and the weakness didn’t fade or if it did, not my any degree Elayne could feel. All they could do was to seat and wait, Healing did no good for such illness. And they sat; each woman cloud in her own cloud of fears and doubts. Till the first light of dawn shown through the windows. Then Rand made the first sound and tried to sit up, Aviendha was there before he could hurt himself, Elayne didn’t understood how the Aielwoman wasn’t as sleepy as she herself was. They stayed most of the night near Rand’s bed, worrying. Rand eyes flickered, and he opened them, blue-gray eyes stare at clearly, winningly. "So I actually made it." He said, his hand moved toward his side searching something. Only now Elayne understood that the old wound he received on Falme wasn’t there anymore. What more Rand fixed in Tel’aran’rhiod, where you could such things easily? She wondered.

Egwene sat on that shaky chair that was still the best in the camp. She stared at the reports on the desk that was as shaky as the chair. Stared at them and for a moment she hoped that she was mad, thinking that this was only her personal madness was much better than what those reports said. The Black Tower was gone, all the Asha’man just disappeared. But almost a thousands men couldn’t just disappear in the air, especially when all could channel. No one knew where they had gone, or why.

Reports form Cairhien insisted that Rand died, most of the Aiels seemed think so, but another report form Illian said that Rand was crowned as king there.

Rand was conferring with the rulers of the borderlands, five different Aes Sedai tried to eavesdrop to the same conversation heard five different talks. From one that insisted that a Myradraal appeared and everybody in the room, including Rand; received orders from it. To another sister that claimed she heard them talking about the best way to hunt a boar.

Perrin was in Gehealdan, if Suian’s eyes and ears were worth something, but he was escorted by two Aes Sedai that were sent to Rand, and they obeyed him! What he was doing there no one managed to find out. She raised her head slowly when Suian stormed in smiling, “The Blight are burning, Mother. From the blasted land to the borderlands’ borders, and all the way from the Aiel waste to the Ocean.”

Before Egwene had time to answer her another Aes Sedai rushed in, Egwene didn’t remember her name. But she was one of the sisters that tried to convince the borderlands to support her.

"The Borderlands had declared for the al’Thor. He burned the Blight as a… a… payment." She sounded shocked, and Egwene could understand her easily, if Rand could order his men to burn the entire blight they were in deep trouble.

And as if she hadn’t enough troubles Leana entered the tent, no doubt carrying more urgent news that would need her immediate care. But the woman looked as if she had been stilled again.

"The Asha’man… they… Rand had conquered Tar Valon. I had reports that say that…" Leana suddenly stopped, "Maybe it will be best if you will see for yourself." Egwene stared at the report Leana gave her, all the sisters were at the dungeons, and Elaida and the hall were stilled and sent to farming! The banner of Light fly over the White Tower, and Asha’man was all over the Tower. The writer was apparently a servant in the Tower, and she mentioned that none save Aes Sedai and warders had taken any hurt. Not that somebody was fool enough to try to stand in the way of a man that could channel. She reached the last paragraph of the letter and cursed without sounding a voice, someone was fool enough. A warder challenged one of the Asha’man. The Asha’man killed him with bare hands. By the report the Warder was given a sword and the reporter doubted if the Asha’man used saidin.

Egwene lied the letter down carefully, "Leana, summon the hall, Suian go find me Sheriam. You," she pointed at the Aes Sedai she didn’t knew, "come with me." She steeped out of the tent, all but running. Gawyn was in the White Tower and she worried about him, he could be easily foolish enough to try challenging an Asha’man himself if she wouldn’t be there to keep an eye on him. But she pushed thoughts of Gawyn from her head, she could do nothing if the hall wouldn’t permit her to go. “The light burn that fool law to ashes.” She muttered, the hall must let her go!

She had to see Rand, to hear from him what under the light he was doing!

What would have happened if... in the Fires of Heaven Aviendha would have taken Rand into the Land of the Madmen instead of Seanchan.

Rand tried to listen to Aviendha's heart, but its beating came slower and slower. She was dying and there was nothing he could do about it, he would have been overjoyed to see Moiraine popping out of the air to heal Aviendha, he would be even glad of Semirhage. But he didn't know how to heal. And Aviendha was dying, unless… Bits and pieces of things he had just heard about came to him, he didn't know this either but he could have guessed, using all the power he could master he wove Spirit. One of the most complex weaves he had ever woven, he had only little knowledge about what might happen if he would succeed, but suddenly he could feel Aviendha. Feel his body and her's; it was supposed to help her, though he had no idea if anyone had tried this before on women. The warder bond he had created should give her the power to survive wounds that would kill any other, he just hoped that it would work on her too. Prayed that she wouldn't die from freezing, of course, if she would survive he probably wouldn't.

She had made that gateway to run from him, he had no idea what she would do when she would find out that she was tied to him. He put his ear on her chest again, searching for heartbeats, he thought they were a bit stronger, only a bit. But he could feel her weakness, feel what she felt though she was unconsciousness. And she was ice in his arms, through the small knot of emotions and senses in the back of his head he could sense her weakness. Trying to cut his line of thoughts, he really didn't want to think of what might happen to Aviendha, and trying to stop himself thinking that he had a woman with no cloths on against his body, he started talking. He talked about the first thing that came to his mind, Elayne and her letters, unfortunately the thoughts of kissing Elayne in the Stone also came with it. The last thing he needed now was to think about kissing, he tried to talk about Min for a while. He had no idea what he felt for her, no more than he had about what he felt toward Aviendha and Elayne, but he liked her.

Don't think about women, you fool. He thought furiously, the void trembled and he barely managed to avoid being destroyed by saidin. Rand's hand started stroking Aviendha's hair, glimpsing damply on the dim light of the flames he wove before. She was warm, he noticed suddenly, very warm. He should move away from her, but he had as much chance to fly as to force his body away from her. Her eyes opened, clear green eyes staring at his without even a touch of the anger that was so often there when she looked at him, he started moving away from her and she caught his hairs in painful grip. He couldn't move away without leaving a bald patch on his head. "I promised my near. sister that I would watch you for." She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him, in almost expressionless voice. "But the rings do not lie, and I can run no more." Her voice firmed noticeably. "I will run no more!" She clutched his head with both hands and pulled his mouth to her. The void was gone and saidin fled from him as she kissed him, it was certainly strange to feel the kiss as she did it, strange but certainly pleasant. The last logic thought he had was that he could stop neither her nor himself.

Rand watched Aviendha while they walked toward the gateway she created. Saidin filled him and he channeled fire to melt them a path. He glanced back at the snow hut, some part of him hoped that he could have just stayed forever with Aviendha there. The small knot of emotions in the back of his head, Aviendha, told him nothing he could understand. Not that he expect anything, if he couldn't sort out his own feeling why should he expect that he could sort out Aviendha's. The warder bond worked both ways, and now Rand started having a very uncomfortable feeling. Aviendha was more than good in reading his mind before he bonded her, to save her life, now she probably be able to know what he would think. After they… he raked a hand through his hair and tried to push the memory away, only half succeeding. She nearly took his head off when she found out that he had bonded her, he thought he could find a way to move the bond to someone else, if not to break it completely. He only half understood what he was doing when he bonded her. But he could only move the bond to a man that could channel; the only choice she had save him would be Asmodean. So she would stay bonded to him, surprisingly it wasn't the bond itself that seemed to worry her, but that she now had a part of him that Elayne didn't owned. He had more chance to understand how to escape the taint on saidin than to understand Aviendha; or any other women at all. If he only had half from what Mat knew... He had just enough time to throw himself at Aviendha, walking angrily at his side and muttering about frozen water and her current opinion about the car'a'carn. And not those he would have liked to hear from her, before a ball of fire as big as a horse or two passed right where their heads were before.

At the same time he had woven flows of Fire and Earth, no time to be gentle or sophisticated, just simple weaves that would make the Forsaken that had attacked them sorry he hadn't stayed hidden. It had to be one of the Forsaken, the ball of fire had been made by saidin. Though he did expect something more from Sammael, only Sammael would attacked him so, Demendred was too careful to challenge him if he thought he had the slightest chance to loose or had other choice. He thought that lesson to the Forsaken on Parran Disen. And Asmodean was too weak to risk such simple attack. The source of saidin faded, it could mean that the man had released saidin but Rand  hoped that this meant that Sammael was dead. It had to be Sammael, no one else would have done it, he thought grimly as he helped Aviendha to rise.

"What do you…" she started as soon as she was on her feet, the glare she gave him could have melt the snow by itself, without needing saidar, and then she saw the tree that the fire had burned on its way to them and swallowed hard. "Thank you." She murmured finally. But he barely heard, he could see the gateway she had created, but he didn't walk that way, he had to make sure that the Forsaken was dead. He hurried to the place he had felt saidin being woven, with Aviendha not a step behind. Of course, now it was nothing more than a big hole in the ground. "No!" he whispered when he saw the broken body that was lying there, it wasn't Sammael or anyone of the Forsaken. "No!"

A young man only little older from himself; with dark hair and eyes staring at the sun without blinking. He had never seen the man but knew more about him than he ever wanted to know. Men who can touch the male half of the True Source are becoming mad and then they are starting to rot, creating horror with the One Power. That was what stories told, that was the fate expected for him. A path that the man he had just killed had already met, the eyes were whole but almost everything else in the face had already given up to the rotting, he could see white bone through blood red gushes in the face and the hands. He heard Aviendha's gasp behind him, and didn't blame her at all. Without the void he probably would've thrown up.

He didn't regret killing the man, this was probably the best service he could have given the men, "At least it would explain why I thought the earth was shaking, half explain." He realized that he had said it aloud only when Aviendha grunted and glared. His face felt on fire, even inside the void. He turned away from the man, there was nothing he could do for him or himself.

"Rand," surprisingly, Aviendha hesitated, a thing she never done before. But there was fear inside her now, he could feel it as much as he could feel his own. If he would go mad… there was a reason for the title kinslayer. "You could do nothing." Aviendha continued. He turned his face to her, not stopping trotting, but his glare just slide from her. "I know, Aviendha. The light help me, that much I know." The words was bitter, if he would go mad… he didn't want to think what he might do. If he would manage to lay a hand on callandor or worse, the male ter'angreal he had kept on Rhuidean… he didn't needed to complete the thought. There would be no world after that. And the fury that babbled inside him was for that he was helpless as a baby against the madness as much as it was for the Dark One for tainting saidin.

On the Age of Legends they had tried to clean saidin, that he knew, and right then he didn't care how he knew this. Of the three trying one had created the Spine of the World and the second the Mountains of Dhoom. Three times the Aes Sedai on the Age of Legends tried to clean the taint from the male half of the True Source. Three? And only two failed? What in the name of the light was the third? He thought as he understood what he was thinking, he could already see the gateway, Aviendha followed him with worried glances, did she thought he might go mad right now? His laugh made her jump, and she laid a hand on his shoulder,

"Rand al'Thor," she started, and then gasped when the gateway she made closed. The tingle, that told him she was holding saidar, faded for the first time since she saw the man, she would have been sagging to her knees hadn't he was holding her. He carried her through his own gateway, into utter blackness, he had cut the weave that was holding her gateway open. They weren't going back just yet, the platform started moving as soon as he was on it. He laid Aviendha on the platform, making her as comfortable as he could, and sat on the floor. His destination was the Blight, and even skimming took time.

Aviendha could stand by her own when Rand opened another hole in the blackness that surrounded them. The shock she felt when she saw that their only way home had gone was too much for her, going on the top of what happened last night between them. Not to mention the bond between them, she could feel Rand, and that was both pleasing and shaming. He belonged to Elayne, but Aviendha wanted him for herself. Ji'e'toh left her one choice though, and she never even considered breaking it. She followed Rand into the Blight; what could Rand want in the Blight she had no idea, Rand just ignored her questions. Rand stopped in front of a tree she didn't recognize, one that hadn't given up to the corruption of the blight. The tree had the look of one that had been here for a long time. Rand laid a hand on it, murmuring something that sound like a prayer. In the back of her head there was sadness and grief.

 "What is so sad about this tree, Rand al'Thor?" she asked sharply, she had enough not knowing so much. "It's the grave of the Green Man, Aviendha. Somatsa was a friend of mine." Her breath caught, "So this is the Eye of the World, but what you're seeking here, what is it?" The look he gave her was so innocent she almost believed he came here to visit the grave of the Green Man, "I can feel this, Rand al'Thor. What. Are. You. Seeking. Here." She was loosing the hold on her temper, but right now she didn't care. She had more than enough reasons to be angry. Now she could see a building, on the arched door there was a symbol half white and half black, divided by sinuous line. The ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai in the Age of Legends.

Rand entered the building without even slowing, for herself; Aviendha allowed herself to scan the building Rand entered to for a heartbeat before she entered inside it. You couldn't be too careful in the Blight. When she finally came inside, Rand was seating on the floor, holding a small green stone, his angreal, there was sweat on his face, and she felt the taint inside him. "This was once a place where a part of saidin was kept," he sounded as if he was talking to himself more to her, she didn't care, she needed answers. "One hundred men and women created this place, they had somehow learned how to clean saidin but they hadn't the power to clean it all. They kept the part they manage to clean, I destroyed the Eye the first time I came here. You asked what I'm seeking Aviendha, isn't it? I'm seeking the way they had found, and believe me I will find it."

And use it even if it will kill you too, thought Aviendha. Egwene told her what happened in the Eye when she and Nynaeve and Rand and Moiraine came here. But whatever weave were used here to clean saidin was over three thousand years old. There was no hope for Rand in his search here. "Saidin and saidar turn the Wheel of Time." Now there was more beads of swear on his face and he breathed too quickly, "I have a… trick, you may call it so, sometime you can see what happened in the past." As if his words were a sign, a mist began to form itself from nothing, creating the image of men and women standing, she needn't need to count to know that there were a hundred of them. "Going that much back is... difficult." The light of saidar surrounded the women while the men were surrounded by a blackness that somehow didn't stop her from seeing through it. She saw the weave they used, or only half of it, the half that were made by saidar. Rand was watching them closely, and Aviendha copied him. It was interesting, if Rand could find a way to clean saidin, if he could escape the madness and the… the picture of the young man Rand killed would hunt her many night. The mist image was gone, and Rand was on his feet, another hole in the air open behind him as he offered her a hand to help her rise. "Where are we going now?" She asked. Rand's smile sent a ball of ice into her stomach, those men and women died trying to clean a small part of saidin, what was Rand planning to do? "To Rhuidean, of course, to clean saidin."

What would have happened if… in Lord of Chaos, a few days after Taim's arrival Aviendha would have found out that she was pregnant.

Rand entered his rooms in Andor on tiptoes, he thought that it must be already midnight. And for once he hoped that he would come when Aviendha was already sleeping, he tried to avoid her as much as he could now. The dangers he must face before the Last Battle shouldn't be shared with her, he had seen her dying once, on the very day he had killed Rahvin and avenged Elayne's mother. There were few things he was sure about them completely, but one of them was that any woman he kept too close to him was in danger. If he learned anything from Lanfear it was this lesson, and it wasn't one he could easily forget.

He glanced at the pallet were Aviendha should have been, even if she wasn't sleeping she should have been there, waiting for him. The woman had a great deal of fun taunting him, sometimes he thought that she did this just because he blushed. He frowned when he noticed that Aviendha wasn't on her pallet. She had nowhere to go in this time of the night, and that left the possibilities of a shadowspawn or one of the Forsakens, if she was dead; or kidnapped by Semirhage or Greandel or any one of the other that was still alive. Even Asmodean if the man had the nerves to come in here when he was that much weaken because of Lanfear's shield; which wasn’t very likely. But he had seen Aviendha dead once, and he doubted if there was a thing he wouldn't do to stop her from dying again, this time there might be no balefire to alter the weave of the pattern, and if Aviendha died… He would die too.

Before he even began thinking he reached for saidin, all the sweetness of life and corruption of the taint; caused by his own actions. He filled himself with the power till he thought he would burn from the amount that was in him, till he was full with a river of molten ice and a lake of frozen fire. With saidin in him he could sense every stir of the air against his skin, see the world so clearly that life without the power was unthinkable. He could hear Aviendha breathing, she was in the room he used as a throne room, he must have gone past her by without noticing.

Rand turned and went to her, no matter how hard he told himself that this is a mistake. He only meant to take a look at her, to see that she was fine. Those fears were ridiculous; of course, Aviendha could take care of herself very well. But he couldn't stop for his life, he feared for her any moment she wasn't in his sight. And every moment he had her in front of him he had to fight himself as much as he fought saidin, he wanted her even though he knew he couldn't have her. Even when he knew that he was a danger to her, it didn't matter how often he told himself that he had to stay away from her, he just couldn't do it. His grin held no mirth, if he couldn't make himself send Aviendha away when every shred of logic told him he must send her away from him, what was the chances that he could hold the madness off. He raked a hand through his hair; he really didn't want to think about this. For a moment he wasn't sure whatever he meant, madness or Aviendha.

His eyes stopped on Aviendha, sitting on the floor in nearly white blouse and dark skirt. Light but she was beautiful, he thought. His eyes bulged when he understood why she was so quite when he passed her by few moments ago. She was drunk! Aviendha! That was unthinkable, she rarely drunk something stronger than wine. What under the light could have made her drink so much? He hurried to her and kneeled beside her, taking her head in his hands he channeled briefly. Simple weaves of Spirit and Fire and Water, the weave came from Lews Therin's memories, for once he was grateful that memories passed along the borders between him and Lews Therin. He never thought of asking Asmodean how to suppress the affect of too much drinking.
Aviendha gasped as if thrown into roaring fire and jerked right out of his hands. The drunkenness seemed to slide out of her when she stood on unsteady feet, he hold her hand. To help her stand he told himself, it had nothing to do with that she felt so good, nothing at all. She didn't try to free herself and she didn't walk away, what he expected her to do, instead she just looked at him. Clear blue-green eyes staring at him not a foot away, there was something in her eyes, a redness that he first ignored that he now recognized as signs of crying. That was even more stunning than anything he had seen this day, he could have accepted Aviendha drunk, but Aviendha crying! That was more than unbelievable, more than impossible.
"What happened, Aviendha?" He asked her softly, gently. He doubted if something else would help him, in fact he very much doubted if anything would help him at all. But instead of telling him what happened to her that was enough to make her drink so much and cry; or even telling him that this was none of his business as he more than half expected, she sagged against his chest. And mumbled something he didn't understood clutching his arms hard enough to leave marks on his bones. He turned her face to him, "What happened, Aviendha?" he asked again, a bit more firmly than before. He didn't like to see her like that, it wasn't natural to her.

"I'm with a child, Rand al'Thor." She answered faintly, her eyes still red from crying. Had she told him that the Dark One was free he wasn't as stun as he was now. He stepped away from her, his mouth tried to reach the floor; "You are with…" He stopped to swallow hard, he thought his eyes might fall on the floor any moment. Aviendha grunted and she removed his hold in her. Hhe rubbed her arms, only half aware for them. She watch him closely, she wasn't joking with him, though he very much wanted her to.
"Are you sure? Mine?" he asked before he had regained his hold in himself in disbelief. He cursed himself immediately. Those questions couldn't have been planned better to make her more angry. She wouldn't have told him if she weren't sure and the other question didn’t bear thinking about. But it at least explained why she was crying, or half explained it.
"Not yours, Rand al'Thor. Sammael's." Her voice full of sarcasm, and her eyes of lightning "Who else do you think it could be, you fool man? I hadn't…" she took a ragged breath and glared at him. He glanced at the table where all the drinks were kept, more than a few of them had gone but he found a cup and a jar that Aviendha hadn't emptied. Saidin left him when Aviendha talked but now he channeled to fill the cup and send it to him, Aviendha snatched it from the air. Not caring one bit that it was his, and emptied it all in one gulp. Rand sighed and walked to the table, letting saidin to leave him wasn't hard this time, he didn't want to be too aware around Aviendha, her hands against his arm, her smell. All that threaten to break the wall he tried to create between them so she would be safer, he didn't know what he felt for her, only that if she would be harmed he would die. Sometimes he had nightmares of the day he killed Rahvin, but on those he came and found Aviendha dead, they woke him with cold sweat anytime he dreamed them. He had to stay away from her, no matter how hard it was; no matter how it hurt him.

He filled himself a goblet and then turned to Aviendha; she already finished drinking and stepped to fill her cup again. She sat on the floor, sipping from her wine and watched him. He didn't understood how she could be so calm, he didn't know whatever to start laughing or… or… he didn't know what and he didn't care. He sat himself on the floor, facing her with all the courage he could find; she would laugh herself till her death if he would let her know how carefully he had to gather it.
"What are we going to do with it?" He said when he was on the floor, not a pace away from her. Aviendha looked at him in surprise, what did she thought he would do. Did she really think that he would abandon her with a child? His child!
She just stared at him flatly for a moment, "I must speak with Elayne, Rand al'Thor. I must!" Her voice was full of urgency.
"That is all, Aviendha?" He asked, "Why not asking the sun with her? I'm trying to find her more than a month now, if I would have known where she is, she would already be here." He silenced himself when he realized he was all but shouting at her.
"She is in a place called Salidar, Rand al'Thor. Egwene asked us not to tell you, but…" Aviendha squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her face pained. "I need to talk with her, could you… would you take me to her, Rand al'Thor?" He was gaping at her; she knew all that time where Elayne was? And didn't tell him. He had found her, the light burn his bones to ashes if he hadn't found her. He was so overjoyed that he bent toward Aviendha and kissed her. She hadn't even protest; she took his head in her hands and pressed his lips to hers. A thing she did only once, a thing he dreamed of every single night since. He didn't mean to do this, it was just an instinct, only his body move on his own, and he kissed Aviendha as thoroughly as he ever had.

The light from the windows woke him in the morning; he was in his bed and there was a body pressed against his. He opened his eyes and saw Aviendha, still sleeping, her hair spread on his shoulder and her head on his chest, so beautiful, so peaceful.

His hand stroked her back, and he let his head fall on the pillow. Lews Therin murmurs in the distance became audible. Love is twice as dangerous as surrendering to saidin and ten times as addictive.

Rand tried very hard not to listen; soon he would go to this Salidar and Elayne. And he had no bloody idea what he felt both toward Elayne and Aviendha, even though one was snuggled in his arms. Blood and bloody flaming ashes, he thought. There was no better way to sum his feeling as this was.