Towers of Midnight
The Gaidar

Anger and fear battled inside her to no end. She couldn't seat down for her life. Rand was away, very far away. Strange how quickly she learned to trust the bond. The same bond that was now full of pain and sorrow and shock. "How you can be so calm?" Aviendha burst, she could hide her emotions no more. "Rand al'Thor had run away, and that... woman is sharing this hold with us!" At least Elayne showed some signs of nervousness, as light as they might be. The golden hair woman sat slump on a chair, chewing her bottom lip and arranging skirts already neatly spread. Birgitte sat next to her, talking to her Aes Sedai with a soothing tone, Aviendha wanted to explode!

Min raised her head from the book she was reading, staring at her, she carefully marked the place she was reading and closed the book, and rose to her feet. Standing, she was a full head shorter than her, yet somehow, it seemed like it was the other way around. "What am I suppose to do, Aviendha?" She asked, "What can I do? We agreed that we mustn't go to Rand, not now, not the way he's. That will be the worst thing to do now; you were the one suggesting that we shouldn't come to Rand. You said that he needs a time to calm down. That he have to have time to think. Then what can I do?" Min squeezed her eyes hard and trembled, "Don't you think I'm as worried as you are? I feel his pain, enough sorrow to drown him completely. The only thing I can do is wait, what else do you expect me to do?"

"I'm sorry," Aviendha muttered weakly. She didn'tmean to make her near-sister cry. "It's just that - " There could be no excuses, in ji'e'toh, being among wetlanders for so long seemed to affect her more greatly than she thought. "I have toh, near-sister." She began to say, when the doors to the room slammed open, giving her a start, Logain stride through as if he had every right to be here, in their rooms.

"I need the Lord Dragon," He said coldly, his face could be used as an anvil, cold and expressionless and hard. "Where is he?" Aviendha saw Halima passing through, eyes burning with green fire as she glared at Logain. The woman knew her manners, at least.

"Rand is not here." Elayne said frostily, rising from her chair, "as you can see for yourself,whatever it is that you need him for, surely it can-"

Logain took three long strides, looming over Elayne. Embracing saidar, Aviendha unsheathed her belt dagger, the Light of saidar surrounded Elayne as well. And from the edge of her eyes she saw that Min had a knife in each hand, Birgitte pulled a long knife seemingly from nowhere. "Listen to me, girl." Logain said, ignoring Elayne hissed breath, "As we speak, you've more than four hundreds Asha'man ravaging your capital, I don't have time for moods or games. Not from you, nor the Lord Dragon bloody Reborn, where is he?" The Light of saidar slowly faded from Elayne.

"What... What did you said?" She asked weakly, both hands pressed to her stomach.

Logain stared at her for a moment and took a step back, "What I said," his voice much more pleasant than before, "was that the Asha'man are all around Caemlyn, and that I need Rand. Nothing was damaged that I could see."

"He didn't said that no one was damaged," Halima said acidly, Logain half turned at her, but she continued despite the warning glance he gave her. "Apparently, Asha'man enjoy collecting women. I would be surprise if any woman from fifteen to fifty would remain in Caemlyn after they are done."

Elayne didn't even turn her eyes to the black hair woman, "What is she talking about, Logain Ablar?" Her voice demanded an answer.

"Some of the Asha'man decided to play tricks," Logain said with a disgusted expression, "All I know for now is that Far Derais Mai are more foolish than any Trolloc."

"What does the Maidens have to do with the Asha'man?" Aviendha asked, fingers tightening around the dagger she still held.

"It would takes too long to explain, Aviendha." Logain said curtly, "There should be four or five dozens of them in my rooms, you could speak with them, I'm sure they would be more than glad to talk with you. I, on the other hand, has a stubborn man with a stone head to take care of." Min gave a weak laugh to his choice words. It was all too true.

"I will take you to him," Elayne announced, eyes burning, "I will - "

"You will do nothing," Halima said, "You are the last one Lews Therin would like to see." Elayne took a deep breath; she looked like she had just been slapped. "The three of you are the last he would like to see, next to Ilyena." A frown crossed the woman face, "Of course, there were other women in Lews Therin's life. Do you want the list?" The daggers disappeared from Min hands, and she sat down stiffly, touching her stomach lightly for a heartbeat.

"That is enough!" Logain snapped at Halima, his tone only hardened when his attention returned to Elayne, "Open a gateway to him, use the bond to guide you, put it half a mile from him, I don't want to startle him."

"I know how to weave a gateway," Elayne said in icy voice.

Halima opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Logain turned at her, and she closed her mouth hastily. The Light of saidar surrounded Elayne as she wove Traveling, Halima passed through, by Elayne's expression; she was more than ready to close the gateway on the woman. As soon as the gateway closed, Elayne wove another, this time, into the Lion Palace.

As the gateway close, Min took her book back with hands that trembled visibly, "I hate her!" She muttered loudly.

"Why?" Aviendha said quietly, sniffing the air, recognizing the odor that hanged in the air. "She said nothing but the truth." The words hung in the air, as vile as the odor that came from the gateway, the smell of the Blight.

Eldan simply took her along with him, ignoring her shouts and curses. She was being carried by something she didn't see, hanging five feet from the ground. "Do you mind, now, tell me what annoyed you so much you gathered your friends to guard you from me?" Eldan Delvar asked as she floated through the gateway.

She kept her mouth shut stubbornly.

"All I did was sending you flowers, Lessa." He continued as if her silence hadn't bothered him one bit. "It's hardly a reason to be angry. And I don't understand how marriage has to do with... me sending flowers to you."

"Among us," She told him frostily, unable to move a muscle beneath her neck, "It's the woman's place to decide whatever or not she wish to be married to a man. A man can imply that he would see such offer honorable and would accept it." He still stare at her as if he understood nothing, "One of those way is the man send flowers to the woman. Implying he would like her to ask," She wished she had a dagger in her hand. The man had the goal to smile.

"So you're angry because you think I want you to marry you, or because I act as if I do but has no wish to do so?" She stared at him for a moment, trying to understand what he meant. Men never talked sense.

"You arrogant heathen cake of infected lizard snot!" She shouted at him, it was all she could do. Given half a chance she would have go for him with her hands alone. But he gave her none. "I don't want you, not in my head, not in my life, nowhere!"

"Tsk, Lessa." The man said softly, "Weren't you've been thought that you shouldn't lie?"

"I do not lie!" She snapped at him.

"Then why do I feel the lie on your tongue?" Eldan Delvar asked.

As far as she could see, they were in some sort of windowless corridor, no doubt lighten by the One Power. She had been lowered to the ground, until her boots touched the ground; she had no idea how welcoming a stone floor could feel. "Where have you brought me?" And in the same breath, "Take me back!"

"After all the trouble I took to bring you here, I don't think so," He replayed, "Maybe some time later, when you would tame that temper of yours." It was foolish of him to release her. She jumped at him, too furious to remember any of her training, pulling him to the ground. She still tried to hit him when, half way to the floor he twisted, speed impossible. His arms embraced her, and when they both landed on the cold floor, it was his body that sheltered her. She felt the air whooshing out of his lung as she fell on him.

For a long moment, she laid on him, then she rose, she felt his pain, his back and shoulder, mainly. But his head too, his eyes were closed, his breath quick. She knew he wasn't awake.

"Burn you, Eldan Delvar!" She muttered; she wanted to kick him, hard. But this would have to wait. She tried to lift him. She was strong, but he seemed to weight twice her own weight. She gave it up quickly and caught his wrists, "First thing, Eldan Delvar," She told the unconscious man that she dragged forward, where he was heading, she hoped there would someone there to help him. Head injuries were dangerous, and she knew only what every maiden knew about healing. "You're going to start eating less." She took three more steps before she understood what she was saying. She stopped with a foot still in the air. When did I decide to stay with him?

The surrounding around them was full of life, trees bushes, grass, everything, the heat was overwhelming. Despite the new winter in the world, the Blight was always warm, and every life in the blight was dangerous. The rotten feeling inside them, a smell that wasn't exactly a smell, a sense of something wrong, made them both recalls the taint. "I don't like this place," Logain muttered loudly. He had been in the Blight once, and the memory still made him want to vomit. All around him, he could feel the Dark One's wrongness; that was the best name to what he felt. As if the taint returned.

Halima groaned miserably. She was full of saidin, Logain doubt if he would ever get used to his warder, the prettiest woman he'd ever seen, small and tender and with a tongue to fit a venomous snake. Could he ever get used to see a woman holding saidin? He pushed it away, and continued walking, Halima wove fire, a simple enough weave, she always choose the simplest weaves possible, and it didn't matter that she also used weaves that were of the most complex he had ever seen, when it was possible, she was simple. It was faster and more efficient, so she claimed. Logain wondered whatever she knew how much this particular attitude in her thought him about her.

Everything a hundred feet from them was burned to ashes, his boots made strange sounds, walking on ashes. The Shadowspawns fled, the trees burned. Logain kept one eye on her, the second on the skies, Darghakar weren't the only flying creatures in the Blight, as he knew well.

"Tell me about yourself," Halima said suddenly, making him freeze.

"Why?" He inquired, "So you can use it against me?"

"Not today," She said softly, her eyes never rested, and she walked in the same flowing move he saw so often at warriors at battle, ready to turn and fight at the slightest sound. "Not here, never here." She was afraid. The Blight was the Dark One's kingdom, and she made it clear that she didn't expected to live long, betraying the Dark One.

He had every intention to prove her wrong. They had betted it, her suggestion, not his. It was too... morbid for his taste. But the price was worth it, in his eyes, and she laughed at him, saying that she wouldn't be able to demand her price if she would win.

As long as she could laugh, he couldn't worry too much. The moment laugher died, so did the person, and he knew it well enough from himself.

"Of all the places in the world!" Halima muttered loudly, "That irresponsible bunch of rancid braised pus had to choose this place!" Logain put a hand on her right shoulder, pulling her to a stop. Her weaves changed instantly. She raised a barrier around them, not stopping cursing. He learned more about the Shadowspawns' mating process than he had ever wished to know. For a moment he wondered what part Lews Therin took in the curse. It sounded... equally unpleasantfor both male and female

"If you will stop before you'll make me vomit," He said before she reached the parts he believe worse than what she said already, "why are you so angry?" A moment later, he added, "Is this how it's really... is with the Trollocs, and the others?"

"I hate this place!" She shouted at him, "Hate this place more than anything else in the world save the Pit of Doom. And I would sooner walk into the Pit of Doom than there." She pointed north, where he could see the now-familiar yellow glow, stronger than the sun.

"Why under the - ?" He dropped the question quickly, "You can return to the Dragonmount if you like, Halima. I can take care of him on my own."

"You wouldn't be able to take care of ice melting in a summer day, Logain!" She screamed at him, she weave fire, a ring made of saidin, of fire wall a mile in height appeared in a circle a fifty feet around them, even from that distance, Logain could feel the warmth of the fire. It began to spread quickly, in three heartbeats, it was already two hundreds feet away, he channeled at three hundreds, fire and air to cut her flow, it took effort, with something the size she was weaving. It fade completely at four hundreds feet. The way she stared at him... she was breathing quickly, with saidin inside, he could here her pulse racing. Not of effort, it was too much emotion that made her tremble so, and horror was the strongest.

She shrugged off his hand and continued walking, no longer channeling, but she had readied some of the nastiest weaves he had ever seen, "You don't know Lews Therin enough to do any good." She said with a hard voice.

"And you do?" He asked, striding next to her.

"Learning Lews Therin was a surviving skill in the War of Power, Logain Albar." She said scornfully to him, he didn't mind, for now, anger pushed terror aside, he rather have her angry, at him or at someone else - not that she seemed angry at anything but him, not that he saw – than her have afraid. "And survival was something I took lightly one time only!" She shivered visibly, he wondered, in the most cold, distant part of his mind, the one that he hated and respected at the same time, if she knew that she now stepped closer to him. She gave him a grin that held some mirth in it, "Lanfear used to give us advance lessons in understanding Lews Therin."

He stared at her, it was sometimes hard to know whatever she was joking or not, she had a... peculiar sense of humor, to say the least. "It was a joke, isn't it?"

"Men!" She growled, and then sent both hands to her mouth and guilty expression appeared on her face, the same expression of a girl with a hand in the cookies' jar with her mother just stepping into the kitchen. "I hate women!" She said, her voice hard and her eyes burning, "I hate them almost as much as I hate this place."

"Maybe it's not my place to mention it," Logain said, trying to push down a grin and knowing very well she felt his desire to smile, "But you are a woman!"

"Why do you think I hate them?" She grumbled loudly, smoothing black, shining coat. He blinked at her, it was the first time he noticed that she didn't wore a dress. He stared at her before, didn't look. It was quite easy, staring at her, although dangerous, she had a tendency to throw tempers when she noticed his eyes on her. And Halima's... tempers were quite a bit more than he could handle safely. She never actually tried to kill him, not since that time in the White Tower. When they fought now, her flows lacked the final strength that would make them dangerous. "I liked women," Halima continued, "Once! When I didn't have to be one!"

"Does being a woman is that bad?" Logain asked; Halima was the only one that could truly answer such a question.

"Go with me into the Pit of Doom," Halima said angrily; "The Dark One will surely give you this body in exchange to an oath of fealty to him." Logain thought that there couldn't be a doubt that Halima was the only one in the world that could sound disgusted, talking about the body she had. One found it hard being disgusted from a body that was as near perfection as possible. Of course, her tongue needed to be cleaned, but Logain thought that cleansing saidin would be easier than cleaning Halima's tongue. And he had no intentions trying. "Of course," She said, almost cheerfully, "I would like to have yours in exchange." The way she eyed him made him shift his shoulders uncomfortably. It was nothing like the way women looked at him since he was... fifteen? No, it was sixteen. Keep boasts to others, you can be truthful with yourself, at least. The familiar greediness was there, but something else, she looked at him as if he was a cloth she was trying to decide whatever it was worthy enough to wear.

"Don't joke about such matters, Halima." He told her, trying to ease his discomfort.

"I wasn't joking," She told him absently, she was too busy staring at him in a way he found extremely uncomfortable. Then she shrugged, "I assume I'll have to take you to Tal'aran'rhiod and show you."

"That is not exactly what I've in mind when I think of being in you." He told her, smiling as she became redder than the sun.

Facing him, she drew saidin to the point where he could feel the pressure on her, where a bit more would be deadly. "If you think that I will allow you to force yourself on me, or that you've any hope to succeed in that, you are -"

"I've never forced myself on a woman before," He told her, his voice ice, his mind fiery fury. "I have no intentions to start with my warders." He stared at her, looking down from his height. "But, unfortunately, no doubt, as you see it, you've a body that stepped right out of any man's dreams." He ignored the fury that began bubbling in her, fear exist no longer, that was the important thing. "Putting yourself in a man's cloths done nothing to hide it, the other way around, if anything. You would have to put a sack on you, a big one, to hide your body. Then you'll have to do something with your voice, and your smell. Maybe then you'll be able to avoid being noticed by a blind man in a dark room, but I wouldn't have bet on that."

She looked at him for few long moments, "Smell?" she inquired finally.

"Yes!" He replayed, resuming his walking, leaving her behind, he knew she would follow.

"Smell?" By Halima's tone you might have thought he was suggesting she would eat a Trolloc, he had to do that once, or starve. Ever since, he decided that starving would be better. She held her hand near her nose and then trotted to catch him, he caught her hand an inch from his face. "There is nothing wrong the way I smell!"

He blinked at her; she wasn't a fool, why didn't she understand. "That is what I've been saying, Halima. There is nothing wrong in your smell, save the small fact that you smell like you've just stepped outside a bed after an extremely pleasant night." He had more to say, but he pushed it too far already.

"Burn you, Logain Albar!" She hissed at him, "Burn you to the Pit of Doom!" Saidin spin around her; flows of air and fire and just the tiniest touch of spirit, the flows lingered in the air for a moment, then they were gone, and so was Halima.

"My Queen," Dyelin hurried to the girl that was her queen on weak knees. She came as soon as summoned, and would have come if she had direct orders not to. She was grateful to catch the new queen just before the girl entered the Grand Hall, it would serve nothing now, to have the queen's temper rage. "Where have you been?" She asked in an accusing tone, "The city had been attacked by those Dragon's men! And the Queen was fooling around with the Dragon Reborn!"

Elayne stiffened visibly, Dyelin couldn't care less; the last few days were simply too much for her. "I was not fooling around with Rand!" Elayne said quietly, her voice strong and proud, the very image of the Queen of Andor.

"I don't care what you were doing with him!" Dyelin cried, "For all I care you could be playing stones with him or bedding him ever since the two of you were gone! Do you have any idea what happened here since you were gone?"

"I came as soon as I could, Dyelin." Elayne stated, "I'd... other duties save ruling Andor. Some of them are as important to me as Andor is."

"Then you've no right to be a Queen," Dyelin said without hesitation. "Have you forgotten all what you mother thought you? A queen places her country before anything else!" Dyelin looked at the girl that she was so fond of, once, before her own daughter gone like mist in a hot day and the city was ravaged by hordes of madmen that could channel.

"That is enough," A woman in boy's cloths, dark and short and as regal as Elayne stepped to face her, "You've no right to speak to her like this." Min, Dyelin recalled her name. Reene Harfor had her loyalties to Andor. And with Morgase dead and Elayne gone, she was the best eye-and-ear in the Lion Palace that Dyelin ever had. Of course, with Elayne returning, Reene's loyalty was to her. There would be no more so very useful reports from the woman who run the Lion Palace. A very interesting tidbit Reene had passed her was that apparently; Min and the Lord Dragon were lovers. Idly Dyelin wondered whatever Elayne had any knowledge about that, and what she thought about it.

"I have every right, girl." Dyelin told the woman sharply, "Since our Queen decided I should rule here in her absence, I would like to know why she was absence at the most critical moment to Andor in the last hundred years!"

"Leave her alone, Min." Elayne order, "We'll discuss the reason for my absence later, Dyelin, at length. Now, I want to know exactly what happened."

Dyelin took hold on herself, barely, "It began six days ago, Elayne." She said, "I was watching, as you instructed, when... chaos seemed to begin in the Black Tower. It's more than three miles away, but the night became day, and... I think that the Black Tower must have been burned to ashes, there was enough fire there to match the sun." Dyelin took a deep breath, that wasn't the end of it, not even the beginning. "The morning after, there were Asha'man all over the city."

Elayne became pale, "How many...?" Her voice trailed off, she seemed incapable of voicing her question. "How many did we lost?"

"About a thousand, more or less," It surprised her that her voice wasn't trembling, it should have, it surprised her she wasn't wailing. "All women. None of the bodies were founded." She blinked hastily, making her voice sound normal, sane. "Lerad, she seemed to be leading the maidens of the spear," She noticed that the third woman, an Aiel, with red hair and green eyes, Aviendha, nodded. According to Reene, there was no doubt that woman was the Dragon's lover until she disappeared one night, few days later, Min showed up. The Dragon was certainly a man; the only thing that didn't fit was why the three was ready to put up with that horrible treatment from a man that was no better than any lecher Dyelin met. A lecher with a good taste, maybe, all three women where more than beautiful, but Dyelin saw little difference between the Dragon's action and Gabriel's. It also give her enough proves that Elayne had no love for the Dragon Reborn. Both males and females of house Tarkand were known to be extremely jealous for the one they loved. She saw not the tiniest bit of jealously between the three women. "Lerad says that the women weren't killed, she refused to tell me what had been done with them, only that it's not much better than dying."

"Maidens had strange way looking at life, Dyelin." Birgitte said; Elayne's warder was shorter than the queen, but not a bit less beautiful. Dyelin had no idea what happened between the warder and the Dragon; she hoped to keep it that way. "I wouldn't have worried too much about it."

"Amelin is gone too," Dyelin said softly, "And Lyandra too." Amelin was her daughter, and she wouldn't have been the slightest worried about her had Lyandra hadn't been missing too, since they were six years old, none of them ever got to trouble on their on.

Elayne put a hand on her shoulder, "They are both fine, Dyelin." Her eyes were burning fury, but her voice was soft. She and Amelin and Lyandra were very good friends, before she went for the White Tower. "I believe I know what happened to them, and they should be as protected as possible. They wouldn't be safer in their beds." Elayne stepped forward, and pushed the Grand Hall's doors open. "I still meant to skin Rand for this, though." She said as the huge doors began to open.

"What was done to my daughter?" Dyelin demanded. But it was already too late. Elayne took one glance at the Grand Hall and turned to her.

The Queen's face was mix of shock and fury beyond limits. "Who did that?"

A cold part of Dyelin mind noted that Morgase done well, teaching the girl how to be a queen. The rest of her mind wanted to wail.

Shortly after being bonded to Logain, Halima reached a decision. She doubted if she would last long, not when she betrayed the Shadow. Since death was expected soon, Halima never hindered herself from saying, or doing, exactly what she wanted.

She continued doing so even after the Last Battle. Her philosophy can be summed into one sentence:

"As long as I'm alive, I'm about to enjoy it."

Logain is very much loved by the Asha'man, and half the reason for that are his warders. There was never an Asha'man turned down, asking help from the M'Hael or his warders. Logain complain is often, saying that: "The only thing impossible in the Black Tower is half a chance to get a good night sleep."

Despite his words, Logain is known to always listen to Asha'man in need. Halima, on the other hand, is known to tell a man exactly what he did wrong, and how he should solve his problem. Often enough, her advices are quite forward, more often, they aren't very pleasant to the Asha'man requiring help. Most of the time, she is right. But she never feared admitting she was wrong.

Strangely, she is loved for that even more. Not so surprising, most of those asking help from Halima are those who encountered troubles with women, whatever they are the Asha'man's warders or not. Halima, without a doubt, is the only person in the world, maybe the only ever, capable of understanding both points of view.

On some cases, her unique understanding was more than valuable. For example, soon after the Cleansing of saidin, when the Dragon Reborn...

The History of the Black Tower, volume II

By Elmindreda al'Thor

The Court of the Sun

The Forth Age

"I don't like it," Logain said to the - could he call it a man? He very much doubted it - that walked near him. The man Tall and blonde hair, with pale green eyes, more than handsome, with the Dark One itself dancing in his eyes.

"So?" The man shrugged, "I don't like you very much either."

"Halima," Logain signed, "Undo whatever it's that you did. I don't like this... show."

"The name, Logain, is Eval Ramman." The man said lightly, a smile appearing on his face.

"It would do you no good, you know. You can hold this weave till you will die, but it doesn't hinder the bond, nor does it change the fact that you are a woman, no matter how you look." Logain tried to make his voice reasonable. He truly hoped he succeeded, he hate to see Halima like this.

She laughed as the flows around her melt and gone. "If only you could see your face, Logain." He grimaced at her, but it only made her laugh harder.

For some time, they walked in silence, and fear increased in Halima's mind. Elayne made a mistake, weaving that gateway, Logain estimated, they were at least a mile from that glow only he seem to see. And they walked for half a mile already. Considering Elayne's temper, and Halima's words, he wouldn't have been surprised to find out that she did that on purpose.

Halima began to curse under her breath, her thoughts no doubt following his. He heard Elayne's name and a word he didn't recognize in the Old Tongue. The last few days, Halima expanded considerably his vocabulary on the dirtier parts of the Old Tongue, a very useful language, for cursing,at least.

"What is wrong?" He asked, trying to push worry aside, she would only become angrier, knowing that he was worry about her.

"I don't like this place! What do you think is wrong?" She glared at him like he dragged her here, what was only half true. "Tell me about yourself!" She ordered, "It might help if I listen to someone with the intelligence above average mice." She glanced at him again, and added: "Even if not that much beyond."

"What do you want to know?" Logain asked; if she wanted to here about him, she would have it. He doubt if she would like most of what she would hear.

"Start with the day you began to channel and continue from there," She told him, "Everything before would probably deadly boring." She grinned, as if she just said something funny, and it was funnier because he didn't understand.

"If you say so," He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember, for a very long time, he pushed those memories away. Still, they weren't parts of him he could safely ignore. "I was... seventeen, I think. I'm not very sure," He ignored her scornful snort, and continued, "She was the Mayor's daughter," He could feel her stiffening; she opened her mouth and closed it with a stubborn look. Anger was clear, it was easy, making her angry, and she forgot being afraid any time she was even slightly upset. "As I said, I was seventeen, and her father caught us in the barn." Halima chuckled softly; he loved the sound of her voice.

"What have you done?" She asked, whatever she felt, she felt with all her heart, with no place to other emotion, curiosity swallowed everything else in her, she would pry the information out of him if he would refuse to give it to her, not that he had any intention refusing.

"I did nothing." He told her, "All I knew is that her father was coming, shouting like a horde of angry cows, and then I was in another place."

She said a word he didn't recognized in the Old Tongue, it didn't sound like a curse: "You've never been able to remember how you did it, haven't you?" She didn't wait to his nod, "No one have, no one ever!" He stared at her, and she rose her eyes to him, "Carry on, what are you waiting for?"

"As I was saying, before you interrupted me, I was suddenly elsewhere, Saldea, as I discovered later, with my skin alone. And it was winter!" He added at her laugh. She ignored him, "Considering the Saldean women's reputation, and my condition, you can draw conclusions yourself about the way I got new cloths." He stole them, but she had no need to know that. He had heard the rumors about Saldean women; he had no wish to spend the rest of his life in Saldea. She grimaced at him for a moment, then her face cleared, even if it was for a heartbeat only.

They stepped out of the burned area Halima created, and the woman wove fire with much more fiercely than she did before. "That is quite enough!" She said.

"Jealous?" He inquired, and prayed silently. The only answer he got was an arrogant sniff.

He didn't speak a word as they came closer and closer to the glowing light ahead of them. As they were two hundred feet from the glow, walking down a small hill, Halima grunted, there was another hill just ahead of them, and the glow he doubt if Halima could see.

"That tree..." Halima whispered, all Logain could see was few spikes of a tall tree, he thought it must be an oak, yet there were no oaks in the Blight. She began to run suddenly, leaving him gaping at her back. The fool woman didn't even kept her hold on saidin!

"Wait, you obsequious sheep!" He shouted after her, then, muttering few more chosen words, he began to run after her. She was very fast, catching up with her; he gripped her arm and pulled her to a full stop.

She didn't try to pull her arm out of his hand; she simply stopped, staring. Logain held saidin to the point where exultation became pain. He could hear her heart beating, air being suck into her lungs. His hands touched the fabric of her coat; the finest silk money could buy. Still rough compare to her skin. He shake his head, sending those thoughts away, it was all too easy to fall into that special trap with saidin, especially now, when the sweetness of saidin was overwhelming.

"What is wrong?" He asked; making his voice soft was hard, very hard. He doubted if she noticed him, her eyes were glazed, with terror. Of all things! He could see no reason for that feeling. No shadowspawn survived a mile from here; Halima already took care of that. And he saw nothing to cause such fright in the tree she was looking at.

She paid him no mind; she walked as if in a dream, completely unaware of her surrounding. In the Blight, that could be fatal. "Someshta!" It was half a whisper, half a shout. She began to shake; Logain saw tears in her eyes. Enough was enough, and burn her for refusing to tell him what was wrong!

"There is nothing to be afraid of, Halima." He whispered to her hair, wrapping his arms around her and placing her head against his shoulder.

"You don't understand," She told him, sobbing, her voice utterly broken, "No one can!"

He raised a barrier of saidin around them, as strong as he could make, and held her until her tears ran out. Part of him was glad of the tears, they would release much within her, she didn't talk about it, maybe didn't even think about it, but he knew what one result of the bond must be. She was no longer the woman she was, the bond changed as little as possible, but with Halima, that meant much. No longer the woman she was, she couldn't accept her actions in the past. Couldn't accept being of the dark. The struggled inside her, even if went beneath the level of her awareness, weakened her, crying, even for another reason entirely; would help. Logain knew that of personal experience, although he much rather not think about those horrible times when the One Power was unreachable to him. Tears often helped, here, they might be the only way for her to heal.

And so all Logain did for his warder was holding her to him, while she cried. Hug her tightly while she cried like a broken heart child. Hold her while she clutched to him and hope that she draw some comfort of his presence. Hold her and cursed wordlessly because there was nothing he could do to help her. Hold her until her tears would run out.

"I... I don't usually do this," She said finally, eyes red and voice shaky. "I don't think I cried since I was a child."

"Then it was a very good, considering your lack of practice." He told her, she didn't step away from him, he was right; crying made it easier. And he was arrogant, selfish aardvark. Whatever aardvark was, a word in the Old Tongue not even Leane and Toviene seem to understand. Halima called him aardvark once; he deserved every curse she ever voiced and more. There were more important things to think about now, much more important than her in his arms. "Could you tell me now why you're so afraid?"

Tears washed fear, for a while yet, at least. "That tree," She whispered into his chest, the bond had its advantages; "his name is Someshta." He could feel her taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself, she failed, and he hugged her harder. "He killed me," her voice savage and fearful and angry at the same time.

"The tree?" Logain asked incredibly.

"Yes, the tree." She didn't shout that, and that make him more worry of her than he would have had she shouted and throw tantrums. "The last of the Nym, named in this age the Green Man." She began to cry once more, no longer sobs that shock her from head to toe, but silent tears that slide down beautiful face. Tears of grief stronger than one could, or should, have felt.

He considered the situation for a moment, "I'll take you... to the Dragonmount," for a moment there, he wanted to say home. "Rand can wait for a little while."

"No!" It was weak sound, but an order still, "I can handle it. I know I can."

Be that as it may be, he still didn't let her move beyond arm reach. She walked straight to the tree, an oak that seemed to be there since the beginning of time. Logain saw the residue of flows of saidin, a ward to defend that tree, but a ward that seemed to be created by a child the first time touching saidin, and another weave that were tied strongly, much stronger, much more focus, much more efficient. Rand's weaving, the later, at least, he had no idea who might have woven the first ward. "And so we meet again," Halima whispered, stretching trembling hand to touch the trunk. "The Light alone knows how much I hate you." There was a spark of emotions within her, anger, with others, that emotion would have been called burning fury, with Halima, it was mild anger. Crying emptied her of all emotions; it often did, for men and women both. "I can destroy it, now. I always wanted to, I could never come here, before, I was too... afraid." Halima said slowly, her eyes focusing on him, "That ward would never stop me, it will take a moment of two only to finish it. Then I might have some peace." He had the uncomfortable feeling that she was saying it more than to herself alone, it sound very much as if she was begging him to allow her this.

Logain sighed, he truly hated doing it, "Do as you please, Halima." He told her, "If you think that destroying this tree will help you sleep better, then burn the tree, or rip it apart." It wasn't a matter of using the power, not exactly, but the bond gave him some tools to control her. Now he used one, it was hard, very hard. He fought to keep the sweat out of his face; fought harder to control his doing, keep it strong enough to her to feel it, keep it weak enough she wouldn't know the source of it.

Somehow, he knew, it was very important moment.

"They appeared seemingly from no where, though the rumors of their presence in the city had been rampaging for some time by the time they appeared in the Palace." Dyelin told Elayne. The woman stared at the mess in the Grand Hall with wide eyes. Most would've, at first glance, and at the second and at the tenth. "The guards did not see them as they entered the palace, and even when noticed, they could not be removed."

Dyelin shivered at the memory, the black coated men, Asha'man, skipped about in a curiously child-like manner, glee written all over their faces, and could not be caught. Like dust in the wind, they slipped right the hands of any who tried to grasp them. Arrows seemed to divert from them, and no one got close enough to run them through with a sword. "They were not striking back. No, they seemed oblivious to all save their own demonstrated bliss. It was simply that the arrows and daggers that sped through the air towards them seemed to, inevitably, fall short." Dyelin didn't like remembering what happened next, Amelin was gone soon after that, with no one to keep an eye on her in the chaos that ruled in the Lion Palace. She and Sheraen, her husband, were too busy to notice that their daughter and her childhood friend were gone until it was too late.

Bright ribbons of color were left behind all over the Lion Palace: brilliant blood red, metallic and shimmering silver, rich royal purple, golden glimmering yellow, midnight sky blue, and so many others. Sparks lit the air, heatless fire, trailing on those same ribbons. Images still formed in the air, half fantasies and dreams, long after the men were gone.

The Asha'man burst into rooms, the ribbons of color on following them. Shattering priceless furniture, while the men, unaware of the damage they caused, laughed in joy, eyes beaming in ecstasy and madness. When, at last, they entered the Grand Hall, they traipsed about, blissfully tossing aside those soldiers that pursued them, almost unaware of their presence. The soldiers where simply pushed aside, by strength above any human capability, sliding down limply, alive and unharmed, but dazed. Yells echoed through the room, twining into the Asha'man's brilliant laughter, child-like in its intensity, seductive in its adult richness. They remained in the palace for the space of four or five hours only, but it was more than enough.

The Grand Hall was where most of the damage was done.

"I see," Elayne said with a voice that held no emotion whatsoever. Dyelin glanced as the Grand Hall, fury rising in her despite that she saw it before. The Lion Throne flouted ten feet in the air, overturned, in its place on the dais there was... something, red and blue and gray, constantly changing shapes if not colors. That wasn't all, looking up; Dyelin almost winced as she saw the mustaches and beards on the ancient queens.

"The Light burns my soul!" A male voice whisper in awe, "I almost sorry that I missed this," A tall young man, clad in black, with two pins on his collar, his hair done in Arafelian style, and accent to match.

"Oh, Jahar Narishma?" Elayne said in a frozen voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Leane, Logain's... warder, told me to come here. She thought you might need help, and she needed me to take her here beside." The man said, apparently unaffected by Elayne's voice. He had very disturbing set of eyes, Dyelin had the feeling they saw right into her skull. "By what I've seen so far, I alone wouldn't suffice." The Lion Throne began to turn, it still flouted in the air, but at least it flouted with legs down and seat up. The... thing that shined where the Lion Throne should have been winked out, and the throne settled down on the dais.

"I want the head of the Asha'man who did it, Narishma." Elayne said, her voice utterly normal. "Then I would like to have his hide, I would have him entirely, piece by piece."

The man shrugged, "It might happen to be just a little difficult, Elayne." He said, by his voice, the two knew each other. "At least three dozens were involved in it, there are too many difference in the style to be much less." One by one, beards and mustaches were gone from the faces of queen hundreds of years old.

"Then I would like all their heads, and the rest too." Elayne lost her composure in a flash; the man was thrown to the air and flouted three feet above the ground. "Do you hear me? I want them, and I want them dead!"

"For some reason," Aviendha said coolly, "I don't think Rand would favor that." Her eyes traveled around the room, "But they did encouraged much toh to you, Elayne. It would serve nothing, killing them without having them paying for their deeds will serve no cause." Min nodded seriously, did none save her saw the impossibility of Elayne's words?

"While you decide what you would like to do with them," The man said patiently, not at all intimidated by the fact that he was flouting in the air. "I would like to be on the ground while I untie the flows."

"Do you know what happened to my daughter?" Dyelin asked; no one else seemed ready to tell her, making her voice polite was the hardest thing she ever did in her life.

"Your daughter?" The man titled his hand to one side, "Who is she? And why do you think I would know what happened to her?"

"Her name is Amelin Taravin," Dyelin said, blocking worries and anger, she could surrender to them later, after she will strangle her daughter. "And she was gone, along with more than a thousand women from the city, while the Asha'man raved in the streets."

"Oh," The man landed on the ground suddenly, his face troubled, "There might be a small problem here." He told her, Elayne made a move as if to hash him, but Dyelin glare at her hard enough to make her reconsider. Nothing will stop her from her daughter.

"What is that little problem of yours?" Dyelin asked, no longer bothering to control her voice.

"Your daughter is now..." The man glanced at the four women that stood near her, and seemed to think again about the words he was about to say, "She is with an Asha'man, his warder, most likely." He told her, not a sign of mockery on his face. Elayne patted her shoulder, trying to look comforting thought her face was still fixed in a grimace.

"It's not that bad," The man said, "And you've no need to worry about her safety, her Asha'man will guard her life with his own."

No one tried to stop her as she walked to the man, a good thing, she would have murdered anyone who would have placed himself in her way. Her husband and daughter excluded; of course, anybody seemed trying to stop her, when she slapped the man's face, hard.

Logain signed, she could feel distaste strongly in him, "Do as you please, Halima." He told her, "If you think that destroying this tree will help you sleep better, then burn the tree, or rip it apart." Halima touched the tree again, lying spread hand on its trunk. The Light alone knew how much she hated it.

The Light alone, She shocked her head, cursing Logain and the bond wordlessly. Something happened to her, soon after Logain took her as his warder, a change in the way she thought, act, behaved. Balthamel died here, she tried hard not to see the skeletal hand that was half revealed under the tree's roots.

She felt very strange, in any other place, she would have said that someone had just walked over her grave. Now, it was she, the one who walked on her own grave, only it wasn't her grave, it was his grave, Balthamel's grave. She very much wanted to cry, her head leaned on the surface of the tree's trunk. The tree that killed her, but somehow, she felt better, much better. She didn't glance at Logain, but she would have bet her very soul, her very life, that he was responsible for that. "I do hate you, Someshta." She told the tree, her voice unsteady, "You began all of this," She made sure Logain could barely hear her, even with saidin in him. "You killed me once, and now I'm to die again." Irritation and fear stroke through Logain and gone, "Whatever it's by the hands of the Dragon Reborn or one of the Shadow's slaves. Sooner or later, it's you who will have the last laugh." She patted the trunk slowly, mind trembling, she felt almost lightheaded. Knowing that Logain was doing it, whatever it was, helped. She stared at the tree for a moment, she had the disturbing feeling it stared right back at her. "I meant to laugh as long as I live, Someshta." She told her killer, her voice now too low even for Logain to hear. "And as long as I live, as short as that may be, I meant to be who I am." No more games, no more hiding.

"Logain," She began to say, turning away from the tree, "I want you - " Something fell from the tree, and she threw herself to the left, grasped saidin, and channeled, all in the same instance.

An acorn hanged in the air, small acorn, had it fell on her, it might have mess her hair a bit, but that was all the harm it could do. She began laughing, she couldn't stopped herself as she rose to her feet, her entire body shaking with laugher. "As much as I enjoy to hear you laughing," Logain said wryly after a while, a long while: "I think that we should reach Rand, and I doubt if he would appreciate you laughing about as we try to convince him to go back." But his words, and his tone, only made her laugh harder.

"Hysterical!" Logain muttered loudly, and added a decidedly unpleasant curse, she was suddenly aware of him raising her head to meet his eyes. She saw, from the edge of her eye, his raised hand as if he meant to slap her.

The slap never landed. Instead, he bent his head to kiss her.

That certainly caught her attention, every shred of it, and muted every wish to laugh.

"Why?" She asked when she finally managed to break the kiss if not his hold on her. She had no need to explain her question any further.

"Slapping you is near impossible," He said, shrugging, "and kissing would have the same affect with - "

She didn't let him finish, "Please bury... this, Logain." She told him, looking at him with eyes that shined with tears, and pointed at the half buried skeleton, "He hadn't had anything decent in his life. I think Balthamel deserve a decent grave at least." She sent a hand to catch the acorn; still flouting in the air on the flows she wove. Then she turned her back to them, tree and man and the skeleton of the man she once was, and began to pace quickly toward the Eye of the World.

He sat on the cold stone floor, cross legs, on the bottom of the stairs, there was a small room there, enough so the echoes will vibrate through him. Asmodean would have love the place, he thought. As it was, the music washed through him, inside him, yet it didn't touch him, nothing seemed able to touch him. But the music flows from the flute he made, saidin used by him to create something, instead of ruining it, music completely unheard in this age, the music drawn from memories of a long dead madman, but the skill at the flute, at least, was his.

Memories danced in his head along with the music, golden hair and blue eyes, dancing with him, laughing, kissing. None of those memories he deserved. Blue eyes, dead, empty, staring accusingly at him. Golden hair spread over the floor, the group shaking, as if not even the stone could bear his touch.

Blue eyes, live, full of anger and fury and grief, staring accusingly at him, so long after his deeds done. Traps! The voice echoed in his mind, the same as the music echoed inside the room, bouncing from one room to the other, over and over and over, strengthening with every bounce. There is no escape the traps you weave for yourself, he remembered Lews Therin saying once. And also, only a greater power can break a power, and then you're trapped again, trapped forever so you can never die. He said it out loud, tasting the words.

The music hadn't pause, he used saidin to play the flute, faster than any human could ever be, bringing the music to new levels of beauty. It was emotionless, though, emotionless like the void that surrounded him.

Emotionless like Ilyena's eyes, an age ago, heartbeats after he killed her.

She didn't glanced at the symbol imprintedhigh on the arched opening that led into the small building, the last that remained of her own age. The acorn was safely in her pocket. The walls around her were made of glowing bricks, but time did much to destroy even what was created with the One Power. Many of the bricks were dark; many others glistened weakly, on the point of becoming dark. The result was twilight, casting deep shadows, with just enough light for her to see, not enough to uncover secrets long hidden.

Leniredal Morelile Chamog, her mind called, the first she had killed, long before the War of Power, long before she even joined the shadow. And there was Honek Feral, and then... her memory was perfect, always. She remembered names, books, events, songs, anything, in absolute perfection. Now, her mind brought up every sin she ever did, every man or woman she tortured, raped or killed. She could sum them up, but there was no point in numbers, as she knew well, ten millions or twenty millions, the moment you began counting, it lost the quality of it, lost what make sin hard to bear. Only it was never hard to bear before, only now, after Logain had bonded her. After the bond change who she was, and what she was.

The changes were deep, and strong, and left the surface all but unharmed.

There was a flight of stairs, leading down, and music that made her freeze in her place for a long time.

Halima walked down the stairs to the sound of The March of Death, the first stair brought to her memory every rage and tantrum she threw in her life. The second brought the victims, a line with no end, numbers that were meaningless, but the sorrow tore her heart to pieces. On the third stair she replayed every murder she ever did or caused, since waking and before, in this body and the one before. She still recalled all her sins in the forth and the fifth stairs, and in the tenth as well, even though it hardly took her any time, searching her vast memory. There were empty holes there, death erased some of her memory, as did the long sleep in the Pit of Doom, trapped just beneath the surface of the seal, the Wheel of Time affected the body, but not the mind. Even now, she shivered uncontrolled, remembering that time.

Halima stepped down the stairs that led to the very heart of the Eye of the World, the sounds of the March of Death dancing around her, tears sliding along her cheeks without her even being aware of it. An endless list being read in her mind, and each name was branded on her heart. Murders, rapes, tortures, corpses in numbers that shook her now never disturbed her one little bit before. It did now, more than she thought she could bear.

Lews Therin sat on the bottom stair, a flute dancing in the air, no hand touched it, but it produced The March of Death in tones sadder than Halima thought possible. "Why here?" She asked, her voice heavy with the tears. "Why here?"

"This is where it all began, Eval Ramman, where I took the first steps on the path that led me to the cleansing, to - " He cut off abruptly, she didn't care, for him, it was the beginning, for her, it was only the end.

"It's very disappointing for you, I know." She told the man as she sat next to him, smiling softly at the breach she wore, and moping tears from her face at the same time. She never thought that a pair of breach could be a reason to be overjoyed. He barely glanced at her, the flute continued to play, and the tones saddened. Logain came near, she could feel him.

"What should I be disappointed about?" Lews Therin asked sharply suddenly, his eyes were focused on the flute.

"Ilyena," Halima answered without a heartbeat of hesitation, she preferred herself to defend herself, but she knew where the conversation had to take them. "It's always disappointing to see a job not well done." The flute fell to the ground, and she rose to pick it up, a fine flute, although she hardly knew anything about flutes, it reminded her the old times, "She should have stayed dead, of course, that way, it would have been much more comfortable to you. Those... girls of yours wouldn't be angry of you, for a start. You wouldn't have to explain Ilyena why you've killed her, your children. There was no need to decide what you'll do with Ilyena. Will you take her, too, as a warder? I've reasons to believe that the other three will have something to say about that, not to mention Ilyena. You can't, of course, simply send your warders away," That was almost a complete sum of all what she understood from the weave she remembered, it was complex beyond belief, and, by everything she knew, fatal. Anyone using that weave would die instantly. She noted herself asking Logain about it. She did twice before, yet he seemed to have a talent in evading questions he had no wish to answer.

"It could have been worse," Logain said suddenly, giving her a start, she forget paying attention to the bond, now he walked down the stairs, a big, dark, man. Almost too big to be real, everything in him was huge, even his presence. She could easily see him leading an army, he was much like Lews Therin in this, both men could capture the attention of any in the room simply by enterring it.

Lews Therin stood suddenly, and distanced himself from her and Logain, "How?" He demanded to know, "How can it be worse, when it's already the worst possible? Tell me, Logain Albar, how?"

"Look at me and then you'll understand," Halima growled at him, "How much you've loved to have Ilyena in a man's body?" Standing, she stretched herself to every inch of her height, which wasn't much, "Six feet tall, full of muscles and as ugly as a new born Trolloc!" She understood suddenly that she was glaring, but not at Lews Therin, at Logain, who stared at her with amazement in his eyes, feeling hurt. The man bloody well deserved it.

Logain brushed her as he moved closer to Lews Therin, one hand slide over her cheek; he somehow made it seem accidental. "You shouldn't be crying," He whispered to her before turning his face to Lews Therin. He walked toward the taller man until they was only a foot between them. "You're very arrogant, Rand al'Thor." He said softly, "Hiding here, sulking, while the world out there need you." Lews Therin was a little higher then Logain, with Logain being noticeably bigger.

Lews Therin always reminded her of the great cats, strength hidden under smooth fur, speed covered with laziness. She wondered idly what would happened to her own cats, they wouldn't need much care in a day or so, she wanted to see Lews Therin's face, and Logain's, seeing what she had made.

Lews Therin resembled the great cats, lean and tall and fast. He even walked like a cat, without making any sound, and he was deadlier than any cat could ever be, her cats included. Logain, on the other hand, reminded her bears; she often typed people that way, by what they reminded her, often, it make sense, as often, it didn't.

She tapped with one finger on her lips, yes, a bear would fit, those huge bears that extinct in the Breaking. Twelve feet tall and nearly invulnerable, Logain gave the same impression as they once did, as if he was strong enough to support the world with one hand, too big to be real. And still, despite his height, he was neither clumsy nor slow. She was attacked by one of those bears once, as she was by Logain, both nearly killed her, of course, the bear lost at the end, unlike Logain.

"Leave me," The command was delivered with such strength behind her that Halima froze, she could do the same; it was a matter of self-confidence, nothing more. And the Light knows that Lews Therin never lacked that, she didn't like this being used against her. It was almost compulation, orders that went below consciousness.

"It would do no good, trying to talk with him," Logain said to her, ignoring the man he stood next to. She threw the flute at him, Logain caught it with one hand; he didn't even have the manners to make it look hard.

"He's holding too much inside," Halima said, then she smiled, "I know just the right thing for him to do."

"I'm here," Lews Therin said coldly, "just in case you've not noticed it."

"I noticed, Lews Therin," She told him, walking toward him. "Believe me, I noticed." Nothing showed on Logain face, but fury burned him from the inside, it made her want to laugh. She stooped less than a foot from Lews Therin. Fury became stronger in Logain, and jealously, for some reason. She shrugged it off, she could think about it later. With all her strength, and with saidin to her aid, she stroke with a fist at Lews Therin's jaw. It came to him as a complete surprise, with no time to defend himself or evade the fist. Had she wasn't using saidin it wouldn't have matter. There was nothing she could do to harm him with the strength of her body alone. She did use saidin, however, and he flew upward, reaching nearly ten feet above the ground, before he fell back. Logain caught him, as easily as if Lews Therin weights nothing. Both jealously and fury were gone, anger was visible, with amusement and relief.

"Why?" Logain asked as he laid the other man on the floor. Halima was grateful that Lews Therin lost his consciousness; she didn't want to do that again. "Why?" Logain asked again, she didn't bother answering him, her hand hurt; she puffed on it, even the touch on air against her bruised knuckles hurt.

She glared at Logain, and then at Lews Therin, it was their fault. She might have to think for a while to come up with the exact how, but it was their fault. "He need to release much within himself, and he wouldn't have come with us to where he need to go." And as long as they were talking about releasing what one felt, she kicked the man on the floor, twice, before Logain stopped her. "I can't tell you for how long I wanted to do this." She told Logain; before she let her head lie on his shoulder and eased her body. She nearly fell before he caught her.

"Are you mad?" Logain asked sharply.

She began laughing suddenly, a throaty sound that still made her want to seek the woman who made it; it seemed like nothing she could produce. "Probably, Logain." She told him, "Now, pick him up while I make the gateway, you don't know this place well enough." She knew this place like she knew no other. She also knew the place she was going to, the closest thing in this age to what she used to call home.

Two falcons soared in the skies, wheeling and playing in the blue and gray light of a dawn not yet woken. Samira watched them through the open window, the only room that she had seen with windows on, the others she had seen had with anything resembling windows had big gaps in the walls, and were nearly frozen. Devon was far away, and she could imagine that she was all alone in the world.

For a moment she wondered what Devon was doing. It had been almost five days since she last saw him, and not a word came from him, not that she cared, of course. She never left her rooms since she had been brought to Dragonmount. Until few hours ago, she found this room after she got lost, when hunger became too strong to ignore, she didn't care much were she was, and the beauty shown through the window was amazing. So she stayed. Being inside the fabled mountain could rouse little interest even in her. Devon might have thought that it would be safer to have her here, within the hollow heart of Dragonmount. She felt him coming near three hours ago, but he didn't try to search her, or to talk to her as he tried before. Maybe he had gone mad, the way he suddenly began to laugh and smile and then disappeared through one of those gateways.

It didn't matter. Nothing did.

It was so peaceful now; early in the morning with the double windows open so the sweet breezes could caress her face. Dragonmount, the monument of Lews Therin Kinslayer's love and agony for an Aes Sedai named Ilyena. Sometimes she wondered whether it was irony that had made Rand al'Thor choose this as a hiding place, so the Asha'man had told her, a dark man that seemed to be too big to be real, when he brought her to this place. Samira thought he might have tried to calm her down.

Tar Valon glimmered in the distance, a pale blur not so far away. She had spent many years of her life there, most of them happy ones. She had been lucky; even in the splitting of the Tower, not much had changed in her life. Happy memories, yet there seemed little urgency. The Tower, her duty, and indeed the world outside seemed so irrelevant now.

The falcons drew up with showy screams, and as one they plummeted down, dark bolts on swift wings. She soon saw the cause of it, a lone eagle in the sky, drifting lazily.

How she had loved the idea of flight as a child! It was a passion that had survived even adulthood, that time when most tender fragile things such as dreams die in unmarked graves. Things that flew fascinated her, and sometimes she bought caged birds just to set them free, to watch them spring like arrows from a bow out of captivity and into the sky. It had taught her one thing: flight was freedom. As children, she and Sarad had often argued about what happened when a person died. Of course, they waited for the Wheel to birth them into the world again, but where did they go in the meantime? They had had a theory.... she recalled, a child's dream, but...

The eagle called once. Twice. It was taking slow, graceful circles, just a little above the level of her window. It seemed to her that it was waiting, calling her, and watching her with Sarad's golden eyes. Each bird was the soul of a person waiting to be woven into the Pattern again, and as birds they flew free, even the Friends of the Dark, who took flight on midnight wings to give their vision to their master.

Some birds mate for life. Some, like the eagle, the goose, the falcon, the stork and the swan, are never parted. To be together forever, or at least until the Wheel of Time turned a spoke once more. The eagle looked at her with familiar gold - brown eyes. It seemed to her that she saw it smile.

"Wait for me, Sarad! I'm coming." This was a good day to test her theory of flight, but in order to fly, she knew, one must first fall.

"The last time I entered such a place, I lost six months." Logain said, setting Lews Therin on a table, the man still hadn't waken, and show no sign he was about to wake soon. Halima's fist still hurt. She would have kicked the man again, or hit him few times with saidin, he felt like he was made of stone.

"Oh, what happened?" Halima wondered idly. She glanced at the room, filthy and smelly, the floor was covered with rotten hay, stained with drinks and blood. The bar was in one side, shaky and old and unpleasant to look at. "Jelon," She called the man that once owned The Light's End, the name still amused her.

"I woke in the Blight, with a crazy idea about reaching to the Pit of Doom and killing the Dark One." Logain grimaced, "And with the worse headache possible."

"Yes, lady?" Jelon came quickly; she didn't use saidin on him; only fear and money tied him to her, as tightly as she was tied to Logain or more. Jelon didn't seem the slightest surprise to see her with Logain, or that Logain held Lews Therin like a baby, as if the big man weighted nothing. What she was sure he noted was her laugh.

"I thought I told you to take a bath," She comment, even in her standards, he was too dirty and smelly and full of fleas and ticks to get in touch with.

"I did, Lady! Last week!"

Halima sighed inward, "Since when getting wet in a rain mean bath?" She asked Jelon, she liked the man. "Give us the strongest drink you have, not the one with the mice in it, I warn you, and then jump into the sea."

"Yes, Lady." Jelon's face took a grave expression.

"And I don't want to hear how much you're attached to that... thing on your back, put something else, the Light knows I pay you enough to buy a noble's cloths." She added.

"Yes, Lady." Jelon sighed heavily, "I will do as you please."

"You pay him," Logain inquired softly, very softly, "Why? He's nothing but a sack of flees that smell like a three days dead rotten Trolloc."

"Two days," She corrected him. Unfortunately, smells were memorized too, "Not three days." She ignored his eyes, it was easy to do, as she found out; maybe she should practice that. The Light's End was full of its usual... customers, all men; few women dare enter such places. Halima heard that death was the best thing a woman could find here, of personal experience, she rather have anything else. Anything! There were more scars visible here than in any room full with old soldiers. And not one here save Lews Therin or Logain she would have trusted not to sell his own mother if he would find the price appropriated. She gave them all a wide grin; the affect was visible. She was, so far, unharmed only because of Logain, towering near her. Those men simply wait for a chance to rape her; she waited for that eagerly. She had to hold her temper for far too long.

She took a chair that didn't look like it would collapse under her weight, as light as she was, now. And turned it so her back would be turned to the wall. Lews Therin lay on the nearest table. Logain sat very close to her, he was cautious not to turn his back at the men too. Steel whispered against leather as his pulled out his sword and laid it on the table, easily visible. Halima stuck an elbow in his ribs, "Don't ruin everything!" She told him.

"You want to be raped?" He raised an eyebrow and looked arrogant. "If so, you wouldn't have to come here, you could have simply told me."

She put her hand on his throat very gently, "Logain," She whispered at his ear, "Keep those thoughts for yourself." Then, just to make a point, she bite his ear, hard, and moved away as fast she could, avoiding his startle jump.

"Blood and Ashes!" He shouted, rising to his feet in one quick motion, sending the rocky table to the floor, "Light, woman! Can't you, just once, let go of me?" He turned his head to the other men in the room; the word tavern didn't fit this place. "Do any of you want her? I'm willing to sell her in a very reasonable price." Taking back his seat, one hand clutching his ear and staring at her with victory in his eyes, "I lie, of course," He said to her ears alone. Bending to lift the table back to its original position. "I'm not going to be reasonable with anyone, you will be sold for quite a price, I expect."

"Logain," She told him sweetly, Lews Therin moaned weakly, she ignored the man, "Have you ever been plunged, head first, into a wall?"

"Twice," He told her, smiling widely, thinking he said the last word.

"You want it to happen a third time?" She meant to say more, but stopped short as Jelon came near, holding a tray with seven huge tankards full with liquid. "Drink something," she told Logain when Jelon set the tray on their table. "And you, go take a bath!" Jelon sighed, but she knew he would do as she ordered. "But first, Jelon," She told the man, who stopped and beamed at her, "Put a tankard down this man's throat, gently, I want him to survive it." Jelon nodded quickly, anything to delay the bath was fine by him.

"What is it?" Logain asked slowly, "It smell like the inside of a Trolloc." Lews Therin sounded as if he was being strangled to death; Jelon did his job well. He showed her the empty tankard with a smile that revealed black and yellow teeth, where he had them. Only half the tankard was spilled on Lews Therin, the other went down his throat.

"Very good, Jelon, now, a bath, I would like to be able to breath near you." Jelon wasn't offended, only mournful as he walked outside the tavern. "You don't drink it for the smell of it, Logain!" She told Logain, taking a small sip, trying hard not to cough herself to death. Her new body didn't know how to handle such things, she truly hope it would learn, she meant to keep drinking.

"You drink it because it's the easiest way to die?" Logain asked, "Or because the morning after even you would like to die."

"Be quiet," She muttered, Lews Therin moaned again, "Put him in a chair and make him drink one of those. "

"Are you absolutely sure it wouldn't kill him?" Logain teased her, but he did as she asked.

Lews Therin only began to wake when Logain put a tankard in his hand and ordered him to drink it. Halima winced as she watched the man drinking. He coughed for half a minute after the first sip, but he continued drinking. Slowly his eyes focused on her. "Never even consider doing such thing to me again, Halima Albar." He told her slowly, one hand rubbing his jaw, the other holding the tankard. Logain's face took an interesting color, something between green and burning red.

"My name is not Albar." She told the red hair man scornfully, trying hard to hold her temper, the man was already half drunk, Lews Therin didn't drunk much; Rand al'Thor followed him, apparently. He had at least half a tankard in him already, and the man was already half way emptying his second tankard, he had to be drunk. What they drunk didn't seem to have a name, but it was bloody strong.

"You hadn't told her yet?" Lews Therin asked Logain between coughs. "You're Halima Albar, and there is Leane Albar, and Toviene Albar, and there would be more Albars, soon. Much more, I would expect." He took another huge sip and coughed for some time, "A lot of little Albars," He continued after some time, Logain face were certainly green. He felt sick, if the Lord Dragon was right, he would feel much more... uncomfortable very soon. "Have you impregnate any of them by now?" Lews Therin asked.

Logain silently took a tankard, looked at it for a moment, and then he set it back down. "To the best of my knowledge, I didn't. Halima wasn't ready to participate." Logain answered quietly. He stretched a hand to put on the opening of her tankard. "You can drink it, Halima." He advised her, "But don't expect me not to make acid comments tomorrow's morning when I'll have to hold your head above the washbasin while you threw up everything you ever ate in your life." Glaring at him, she lowered her head and tried to bite him, his hand was gone like mist. "Do you have some flavor for human's flesh, Halima?" Logain asked, then he began to smile, "Or is it my flesh only you seem so eager to taste." Calm, Halima reminded herself as she rose, calm, she reminded herself again when she took the tankard near her and threw it at Logain, holding his head with saidin, the flows thorn apart a moment too late. Halima winced at his pain. He didn't curse, a reason to worry, he just looked at her, dripping... unnamed drink and...

"Keep your tongue clean," Halima told him, Lews Therin clapped his hand, and some other men as well.

"Hot temper as always," Lews Therin said, "And your taste at choosing places to enjoy at hadn't changed a bit, hadn't it? Where are we, for that matter? This place reminded me of Kiloner Deris." Halima smiled, remembering the tavern with the worst reputation in the world, they were much the same, in truth.

"Tear," Logain answered, he didn't wipe his face, just looked at her. "A tavern named The Light's End, if you can believe it."

"Oh, I can, easily." Lews Therin replayed, setting down an empty tankard and taking another, "Eval Ramman always like places that smelled worse than a battle field in a hot day." Halima winced at the name she once had. She stared at her tankard in amazement; too much of it was gone. She sat it carefully outside, she believed Logain, and he seemed to have a sharp tongue at need.

"You still like them, I see." Lews Therin told her.

"I see no reason to change that," Halima told the man slowly. Calm, you idiot, stay calm!

"I see;" Logain said, "More than one." He stretched a hand as if to touch her, she bared her teeth at him. And he snatched his hand back. Lews Therin laughed.

Halima put her face between her hands, elbows leaned on the table, and wondered silently how did she reached here. "You wanted to live forever," Lews Therin said suddenly, giving her a start, she thought she had better control on herself than to voice her thoughts.

Logain took a tankard, by his expression; he meant to drown the conversation in the drink.

"Considering that you led the Light," Halima told him, "it was much safer among the Shadow."

"Safer!" Lews Therin roared, "How could it be safer in a place where the easiest way to achieve a higher rank is to kill those above you."

Halima lost all hold on her temper, "With your battle tactics?" She shouted at the man, "Your idea of winning a battle is to gamble against all odds."

Lews Therin stared at her, giving her his pull attention, a disturbing thing; he seemed to be able to read her mind. "And I won!"

"How many time even ta'veren can win, playing against the rules of probability?" She was furious, "At the end, it was only a matter of time before you would have lost. We stopped you and your army, Demandred and Bel'al were already invading our territories, it was a matter of time alone, and yours run out!"

"And at the end, I won still!" Lews Therin hissed, "No battle I commanded was lost!"

"There is a difference between not losing in battles and winning battles!" She shouted at him, "What about Paran Desen?"

"What about Paran Desen?" The man roared, Logain emptied half a tankard in one huge swallow, he didn't coughed once, and he raised the tankard to take another, "I won the bloody battle!"

"And how, you risked the entire world because of you being arrogant! What would have happened had Ishmael chose to stand and fight instead of fleeing? What would have happened had you lost? I'm fully aware that you're arrogant enough to think you'll survive anything, but you couldn't let your pride affect you while your gambling with the Dark One! Not when the world is on the stake!"

"Paran Desen in the spring, do you remember anything more beautiful?" Lews Therin sighed into his tankard.

"I rather had the Sharon," Halima said, "There was much... fun there." Logain looked sick. "I think I liked the Academy most, however."

"It was a beautiful place as well," Lews Therin agreed, "Although I don't doubt that your reasons differ than mine. You left only few hearts unbroken by the time you finished the academy." Logain's face became just the slightest green, and he felt sick, and miserable. For some reason, it made her smile, widely. "Those were good times, the good old days." Lews Therin sighed again, "I missed them."

"The good old boring times!" She corrected him, "The strongest of us could hope for nearly one thousands years lifespan. And the strongest Aes Sedai are often the most qualified, what were we supposed to do with our life, when we reached everything we ever dreamed or wanted in the age of hundred or less? What left for us but endless years with tomorrow all but identical of yesterday." Logain stopped looking sick, he gaped at her.

"Bored?" He inquired in a voice that held all the disbelief in the world, "You could reach the age one thousands years, and you claims that you were bored?" Logain's eyes took a far off look. "I never hoped to reach thirty," He said in a voice that sounded like none of his own. Halima blinked at him, if she would ignoring the Slowing, he was about forty.

"How old are you?" She inquired softly.

"Me?" He looked at her for a moment, she had the feeling he was seeing through her, "I'm twenty-seven."

"You didn't age nicely, Logain." Lews Therin grinned, "With a bit of luck, when you reach one hundred, you will look like she did, at three thousands." Rotten body; a tongue that fell off from her mouth when she first tried to talk, after they have climbed up the path of broken daggers that led from the Pit of Doom; she remembered looking at hands with horror, able to see, through gaps in the flesh her own bones. Eyes week with age, body nearly collapsing under its own weight, muscles that once were powerful became water. Trapped near the surface, the Wheel of Time passing slowly affected her body. The oldest creatures alive stepped outside Shayol Ghul; they also looked so.

"It's not a matter to joke about, Lews Therin, or should I remind you of Mierin's doings?" Halima asked coldly, Lews Therin groaned sourly, "Do you remember your wedding? It was a wonderful display of emotion, I think Asmodean wrote a song about it, not very good song; but no song can be good with a name such as: ‘The trio's wedding.' Not to mention Ilyena and Mierin's reactions to each other. They nearly toppled the entire building, and you stepped between them, like the fool you've always been. You made each think you support the other, Ilyena refused to marry you after that. I still don't know how you convinced her in the end. Something to do with this thing called love, I assume. But it was certainly worth the visit, it was nice of you inviting me, I don't think I ever thank you about it. If I remember correctly I laughed myself till I'd sour mouth for a week."

She stopped to take a breath when Logain spoke: "Have you never been in love?"

"Of course I did!" She replayed, "You want the names? I can give you every last one of them?"

Logain grimaced, fists tightening for a moment, then he forced himself to calmness, "How long did it often last?"

Halima shrugged and smiled at him, "Most often, until I undressed her, in rare cases, until she undressed me." She replayed, Lews Therin began to laugh, and she didn't hide her wide grin at Logain's expression.

She was aware of commotion behind her for quite some time now, luckily, she raised her eyes just in time. "Darkfriends!" That came as a hiss, from more than one men, Halima didn't doubt a heartbeat that there were darkfriends among the men gathered in the room, of law rank, most probably, but they would try to kill her still, to make sure they wouldn't be uncovered. The rest were as bad as any darkfriend.

A man almost as big as Logain stepped forward, the leader, he had a short sword in hand, or maybe a long dagger. It wasn't a nice weapon, "We know what to do with darkfriends! Especially you!" The man stared at her and licked his lips in expectation, Logain made as if to rise, sending his hand to his sword, face like a thunderstorm.

"I will take care of that," Halima said, rising with a grace she was well aware of, the only reason for wonder was why they weren't attacked before, the claim they are darkfriend was only an excuse, their cloths were far finer than any those men saw on anyone save nobility. She gave the men's leader her widest smile while she wove Air. He was picked up in the air, and crushed, hard, into the wall opposing her, the wall shock for a few moments, but it held. Halima grimaced; the man rose into the air and plunged against the wall twice more, until the wall broke and the man flew through it.

Nodding in satisfaction to herself, she took back her seat. Jelon stepped through the door, looking at the broken wall, then at her, agonized. He was wet all over; he was very... literal man. The room was empty beside Jelon, Logain, Lews Therin and herself. As soon as it was clear that the One Power was being used, the room emptied. That was the fastest retreat Halima saw in her life, and that included the battles in the War of Power.

"You still had a tendency to destroy whatever anger you," Lews Therin comment calmly, Two tankards stood near him, empty, and another was held in his hand, he obviously meant to get himself drunk, he should have been already drunk, but save loosing his tongue a little, the drink seems to have little affect on him. It was clear evidence to his state; the mind could overcome the body, for short periods of time only, as she knew better than any other, for now, his... grief held back the affects of the drink. Halima had no wish to be him, tomorrow morning. "I'm surprised that Logain survived you."

"Did I?" Logain said, sheathing his sword and seating in his chair, he glanced at the wall few times, the man left a hole seven feet wide and five high. Jelon checked the damage with sad eyes, sending every now and then angry glances at her. He said nothing, of course. The man might be smelling, and not the brightest in the world, to say the least. But he survived in this tavern for years, which took something. Still, she knew she could trust him with her life, her gold and her promise were more than was need to acquire his loyalty. "I'm not so certain I would, it had only been a week." Halima laughed to that, and Logain grinned at her.

"Wouldn't he be even slightly angry about you ruining this...?" Lews Therin seemed to be searching for a fitting word, not that there were many, to describe The Light's End.

"I own this place, he wouldn't." She told the man before he found the right word.

Logain snorted, "A farm in the Blight would be a better place to spend your money at, Halima."

"I like this place," She replayed to him, if he thought that he could make her change her mind about owning this place he was gravely mistaken.

"There is no place like home, isn't it?" Lews Therin said, Halima winced, looking at him. He began his forth tankard, the last that remained, and his voice was too slow, to say he was drunk would be an understatement. "You always liked that kind of places, and now you own one. Do you mean to make a career out of this? And how under the Light have you gotten ownership of such a place? I can hardly imagine the owners selling it to you."

"Jelon understood, in the end," She told Lews Therin, "I offered him more money that he saw in his life, and told him that I would turn all his gold to water if he would think of betraying me, I'm still paying him to run this place. It's not a place I would like to see ruin."

Logain chuckled, looking at the hole she created, "You don't want it ruin but you still ruin it yourself."

She ignored her bondholder, "What are you going to do with Ilyena?" Now that he drunk so much, it seemed that he was capable to face the fact that the wife he killed returned from her grave, after time so long.

"I don't know," Lews Therin replayed slowly; trying to be logical even thought he emptied three tankards already, and most of the forth one, not to mention that tankard she ordered down his throat. "The Light burn me, I don't know."

"I think you have other things to worry about, more important than Ilyena," Logain said, she glanced at his tankard, three quarters emptied, she was horrified to see that more than half of her tankard was gone. Logain would have his acid comments tomorrow morning, for sure. "The Asha'man took the cleansing a bit too well, I sent them to the Dragonmount to calm down, but they seemed to have taken warders without the women's concept." He didn't look at her and had the goal to sound angry with the Asha'man! "More so, I expect Elayne to be angry enough to try to skin you, the Asha'man... messed a bit the Lion Palace."

"What!" Even drunk, Lews Therin managed to pull himself up in speed near impossible, keeping himself erect, however, seemed beyond him. And he crushed down to the floor as fast as he went up.

"Do you mean to help me up?" He demanded from the floor, "There is something wrong in the floor! It wouldn't hold still under my feet!" Halima laughed as Logain helped the man to his feet.

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~Barid Bel Medar & The Soulless Home's authors group