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A shimmering thin line, vertically cut, slashed through the air in front of the forbidding tower made of black stone. That tower would be a legend in its own right, standing next to the White, in the annals of history and the hearts of people. It was in this tower , the Black Tower, that the Asha'man were first trained and created . Or rather, this spot. The actual tower was built and completed sometime later. The Black to balance the Right, the Guardians of Justice to balance the Servants of All, the Asha'man and the Aes Sedai. Such was the balance of the world, and the Wheel.
The thin line widened and dilated, expanding until it was an opening large enough for a horse and rider to pass through safely. It was only one of many appearing at the Traveling point, yet it was the most critical one. The Gateway finally opened fully, its silvery clearness revealing a field full of life and a lone rider. The rider slowly stepped into the Gateway, and was instanty transported many miles to the Black Tower. The rider had a green cloak and looked affluent because of his clothes. A crown of laurel leaves and swords, points alternating up and down, rested on his head. A sword, a heron-marked blade, rested in his sheathe. Two dragons marked his forearms; two herons his hands.
Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, walked out into the center of Asha'man power. It was an amazing rush of activity, with people rushing all over the place. The sense of saidin's use was almost overwhelming, and he feared that the Asha'man had somehow all gone insane. They didn't even necessarily have to go mad from the Taint. Without the Taint, the desire to reach for the True Source was constant and almost unbearable. Rand knew that he had to practice much tighter self control now that saidin was cleansed. Then he saw the rubble surrounding the tower, and the scorch marks and scars that crossed the buildings. It looked as if the whole area had been to the Pit of Doom and back.
He got another surprise, though not entirely an unexpected one given the signs of battle that stood out against the Black Tower like Domani stood out against Taraboners. Logain was the one to greet him, and Rand noticed that Taim was consipicuously absent from his arrival. At Logain's side stood a young boy, though he was probably only four years younger than Rand. Rand shook Logain's hand, and inquired about the state of the Black Tower.
" How goes the Black Tower? I don't suppose Taim is around here?" He phrased the question cautiously, without asking of Logain was M'Hael. That, of course, would be answered by the question of Taim. Logain gestured to all the burn marks and rubble and he spoke softly.
" A battle happened yesterday. I accused Taim of treachery, and he and a hundred of his loyal Asha'man tried to kill me and take the Tower. I beat them back with of the rest of the inhabitants. So, does that make me the M'Hael?" Rand noticed Logain hadn't mentioned the boy at his side yet.
" Yes, that makes sense. So Taim is basically rotting in the Pit of Doom?" Logain nodded. " Then another yes to your other question. I told you that you would be the M'Hael if Taim turned out to be a traitor, or if he died." He looked around at the ruins and rubble again. It seemed as if most of the battle had taken place in the courtyard; several of the gates were totally demolished and most of the stones in the ground were ripped out and thrown around. It must have looked even worse right after the battle, before any men were sent to work on it.
" I will have need for some dedicated Asha'man and some Dedicated, too. I have an important mission, but for most they can consider it an at-the-front training opportunity. I intend to have my students learn what it is like to fight the full might of the most powerful institution in the world. I intend to attack the White Tower." The boy next to Logain had his jaw unhinged by the end of Rand's speech, but Logain merely nodded.
" Yes, it makes sense. Of course, you will put Egwene in place as Amyrlin when you are victorious?" Rand nodded.
" Yes, but I require that Elaida and Galina Sedai be put into Asha'man custody. I intend that they be tried here, at the Black Tower, and pay for their crimes." It was obvious Logain didn't know what Rand was talking about.
" They kidnapped me. They were going to bring me to the White Tower and keep me into a safe storage place until Tarmon Gai'don." His eyes narrowed dangerously, and the boy looked a bit frightened. Rand realized he was holding quite a bit of saidin. He let the True Source go reluctantly. The molten fire of the Power was irresistable without the Taint to corrupt its essence.
" You won't be needing the Asha'man anytime soon, will you? As you can probably see, I need all the men I can get."
" Yes, it's fine. It doesn't matter particularly, since we can get to the White Tower anytime by Traveling. If Egwene's army doesn't have the Tower at its knees by the time I am ready, then I will bring it to heel myself." Logain nodded.
" So, I guess the only two questions left are these: Who's the boy and where's the food?" Logain laughed and replied.
" The boy is Riln Tarinin. You haven't sensed his full power yet, but trust me, it is amazing. He nearly matches me now, and he has some maturing to do. He saved my life during the battle. As for food, we'll lead the way." Rand smiled at the boy, this young Riln, and followed Logain into what remained of the Black Tower. Rocks were scattered throughout the corridors, and there were many holes in walls and such things. The general disorder and upheaval was amazing.
" You and Taim didn't do anything small, did you? Why couldn't you two just go off and duel in the woods?" Logain nodded thoughtfully.
" Taim was the one who mobilized his troops first, though. He rallied a hundred Asha'man to him, and if I hadn't acted quickly he would have gotten a hundred more from the Dedicated."
Rand nodded, and said, " It doesn't take very long to build with the Power, does it?" Logain shook his head and gestured to where Rand could get food. They went in together, the Dragon Reborn and the M'Hael of the Asha'man. All that was missing was the Amyrlin Seat.
***
Demandred stood before Shayol Ghul again, and nearly trembled in its greatness. His humorless face glanced sourly at the mountain, as always, but inside his heart he felt great joy at being there again. He was, in some ways, home at the Pit of Doom in ways he had never been anywhere else. The Hall of Servants had been the most beautiful building in the age of beautiful buildings, but that was Lews Therin's place, not his. He would always belong in a shadow, he knew, and it didn't matter to him whether he stood below Lews Therin or the Shadow, just which one was more powerful to stand below. Sadly, Lews Therin's power couldn't match the Shadow.
As Demandred walked through Thrakandar, and heard the screams of the dying and the crash of the forges, he breathed deeply. In the heart of the Shadow, that was his place. Until the end of time. He continued walking, ignoring the blood flowing down in rivulets and avoiding them.
Shaidar Haran stood to meet him, as it had been since the time Demandred had first seen the tall Fade. The Hand of the Dark, boldly proclaimed, yet he received special consideration from the Great Lord. The teeth touched farther from his heart than most, even the Chosen. Demandred sourly made plans for when he was Nae'blis and Shaidar Haran and everyone else would bow to him. And he would only have to bow to the Great Lord himself, the removed entity who could never physically come into the world.
Demandred could easily live with that arrangement. He had left much of his pride behind, or rather the Great Lord had taken it, when he had joined the Shadow. Few weaknesses remained in him, though some said that his hatred of Lews Therin was a weakness. Demandred had to concede that it had driven him into foolish decisions in the past. Still, three thousand years of imprisonment at Shayol Ghul had taught him well. One must never underestimate Lews Therin. Even if the Great Lord's counterstroke tainted saidin, he was still locked away for three millennia, unable to touch the world except through Ishamael.
Still, his careful contacts with the world had resulted in some of the greatest disasters of the Third Age; the Trolloc Wars, Artur Hawkwing's siege of Tar Valon, and the overall distrust for the Aes Sedai of this Age. How many millions had died in the Trolloc Wars, and how many great leaders and emerging nations had been wiped off the face of the world? What would have happened if Hawkwing hadn't rebelled against the Aes Sedai?
Demandred descended into the Pit of Doom, the teeth of the opening brushed against his head as usual. Also, as usual, Shaidar Haran's head didn't touch the teeth, which rose up when he walked through the opening. His special consideration rankled in Demandred's mind.
COME FORWARD, DEMANDRED. The voice of the Dark One rung through Demandred's mind. HOW GOES THE WORLD? IS THERE CHAOS AND DIVISION? Demandred always wondered why the Great Lord asked that when a Chosen came to speak with him. Did he truly need the news, or did he do it as a test to see if the Chosen would tell all they knew. Either way, it was in Demandred's best interests to let all he knew be revealed.
" Mesaana and I are preparing plans to break the White Tower, Great Lord, though I do not know much as to what the other Chosen are doing. I believe Aran'gar is doing her duties with the girl, though." Demandred actually had very little news to report this time. He had been called unexpectantly, and hadn't had much at all.
I SEE. YOU WISH MORIDIN DEAD? DEATH CANNOT DIE. The voice's accusation shocked Demandred. Demandred realized he was treading thin ice, and was still forming a cohesive response when the Great Lord spoke again. His voice was like the thunder of a thousand, a thousand thousand storms.
HE IS CRUCIAL TO MY PLANS, DEMANDRED. AS ARE YOU, AND AS ARE ALL THE CHOSEN. WHETHER HE OR YOU WILL BE NAE'BLIS AFTER THE DRAGON IS GONE IS DOES NOT MATTER TO ME. DO YOUR DUTY OR SUFFER. Demandred dropped to his knees, and still attempted to bow.
" The Great Lord is all-knowing, and he is merciful as always. I apologize sincerely."
YES. EMBRACE THE PAIN, DEMANDRED. Demandred jerked upward violently, and then backward, as he felt a horrible constricting pain in his chest. He did embrace it, even as it swept across his body and he howled. He was a man who had entered his nightmare and couldn't leave it. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
***
Moridin toyed restlessly at his sha'rah board. He was especially impatient today, and his somewhat young face wore a dour frown. Most of his servants, full of Compulsion as they were and dead inside, still knew enough to stay away from him in his current state. He glanced at the players questioningly, and moved many pieces forward in accordance with his plan. Similar pieces dotted the board, but the largest concentration had already been defeated and was biding its time.
***
A massive Seanchan fleet sailed, past the great island of Tremalking and across the coast, steadily bearing upon the city of Ebou Dar. The fleet was probably the largest that had ever sailed, besides Luthair Paendrag's armies on the way to Seanchan, and it had a two objectives. Retake the city and the country of Altara, and sweep through the nations in a great purge that had never been seen before. The Empress herself commanded the fleet, and it would scour the world until the Daughter of the Nine Moons was safely returned and her kidnapper was a body sinking into the depths of the Aryth Ocean.
***
Moridin moved two other pieces, two of his best and yet worst, and they moved forward also. It was a crash course the two of them steered, with only one coming out alive. In this case, Moridin was going to assume that the dour-faced piece would win the conflict with the woman whose face was hidden.
***
Demandred Traveled from the Pit, even as Mesaana walked through the halls of the Tower. Both were in a rage, and both were working for the same plan and the same goal. Yet, they were completely different and opposite.
***
Moridin also moved a small, unimportant piece, that this time could decide the fate of the world. Nearby and yet far away, the Fisher King waited.
***
Egwene tiredly massaged her temples. A pounding headache, one she was often with, had returned and was rabidly attacking her head. She groaned softly, and Halima walked over and began to massage her head slowly.
" Put yourself in my hands," Halima said softly, and Egwene nodded sleepily.
" Yes. I believe I will." Halima just smiled as time passed.
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