I can neither justify nor explain what led me to this.
I do, however need feedback and some beta readers before I post this on FFnet.
Ladies and gents, one and all, I present to youà.
=====================================================
"Solace"
Prologue û Oppressed
=====================================================
ôàand in the valley of the Red Eagle, the old blood ran true in His veins. It burned in His heart and seared His soul, screaming for the right to taste the blood of the ancient enemy once moreàö
-excerpt from the The Beginning : The Reborn Chroncicle, composed by Noal Charin, in the Year of Woe 877, of the New Era, the Third Age.
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass leaving memories that become legend, and then fade to myth, and are long forgot when that Age comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wing was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings in the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
In a place once known Manetheren, thorn to the Dark OneÆs foot and bramble to his hand, lay sprawled the sleepy community of the Two Rivers. No remnant of past glories remained save forgotten ruins, hidden in the mountains, and all that remained of their terrible defiance was a stubbornness that was legendary and inherited through many generations.
The Winespring Inn, named after the Winespring Water, one of the two rivers that gave the Two Rivers their name, sat as a centerpiece to EmondÆs Field, a goodly sized inn thatÆs owner was also the Mayor.
So close to Bel Tine, the spring festival that everyone prepared for months in advance, the inn was doing a roaring trade. The bar was full, and many men and women were resting from the strenuous activities that came with preparation.
Most had almost forgotten the terrible tragedy that had occurred not even weeks ago. A death in the MayorÆs family, due to an unexplainable disease. Nynaeve had been away visiting another village, unable to get back in time to do anything but make the youngest daughter of Brandelwyn AlÆVereÆs four, Egwene, comfortable as she succumbed to fevers and shaking and chills.
Not some. One of which was Rand AlÆThor.
He sat at the end of the bar, staring into the depths of his mug of apple cider. He was only fifteen, going onto sixteen summers old, therefore not old enough to taste of his own fatherÆs famous apple brandy.
Idly he pondered if the looks Bran was sending him from across the bar, oneÆs of mirrored and shared grief, meant that he might let him try, just this once. Maybe. Probably.
Of course, this speculation was only to take his mind off of the matter that seemed to be strangling him silently. Egwene.
The other girls would never be quite as pretty as she would be. Maybe thatÆs why they were so nasty to her. She always did like hanging around with Mat and Perrin, Dav and Wil, all the boys and me. Rand shook his glass slightly, watching the amber swirl around slowly. He hadnÆt drank much. He wasnÆt very hungry or thirsty at the moment.
He had always known that he and Egwene had something different. There had been plenty of rumors, that his Da was going to into marriage discussions with Mistress AlÆVere.
But that doesnÆt matter now, does it? Light, Egweneà
Two women walked in, mopping their brows. From their red hands the old, unimportant dresses they didnÆt care about, Rand surmised they had been washing the wool. He looked back down. His gaze was dull as he examined the whorls of the aged oak counter.
Bran sent him a worried glance, as the two women took the two empty stools just to RandÆs left.
He let his mind drift, somewhere, anywhere but to her. They had had a bumper crop of apples this year, and Tam had been able to make nearly twice his normal harvest.
In addition, Tam AlÆThorÆs apple brandy had sold exceptionally well this year. A Ghealdan merchant caravan had found their way up north into the Two Rivers, and had become enamored with the new community. They had declared that his fatherÆs brandy was the best they had ever tasted, and promised to return the next year. They had bought up nearly his entire stock.
Da said he might buy some extra seed and see if the Aynals might give up that orchard heÆs had his eye on for a while. We also could use a new mule, since BelaÆs getting into her autumn years nowà
ôLight, Mari, the sunÆs really packing down isnÆt it? Going to be a burning summer, I just know it.ö The woman gabbed to her friend. She took the mug of cider from the innkeeper with a nod. ôThanks, Bran. Sorry to hear about your daughter, by the way, terrible shame, that.ö RandÆs grip tightened on his mug, until his knuckles turned nearly white.
Bran merely nodded woodenly, and moved on, taking two empty glasses from another Rivers man to clean.
The woman turned back. ôSo, did you hear? Cari CoplanÆs been making calf eyes at that new merchantÆs guard!ö Her tone was scandalized. ôLight, the womanÆs hardly decent, isnÆt she?ö
ôIs that it? A æterrible shameÆ?ö
RandÆs voice was slightly hoarse, having not used it since he asked Bran for something to drink a good while ago, but it cracked like a whip.
The woman turned to him, as if surprised he could speak. ôIt is, isnÆt it? She was a pretty little thing, real sad, it was.ö
Her pitying tone drove Rand over the edge. ôSo is that it? YouÆre just going to forget about her, start planning for Bel Tine and pretend her death never happened!?ö Nearby, Bran sent him a look of alarm.
Her friend, Mari, flipped her braid over her shoulder and leveled a look at him. ôThereÆs no reason for that tone, young man.ö
The other woman nodded. ôThatÆs right. She was a nice girl, and itÆs a tragic thing sheÆs gone, but lifeÆs got to move on. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.ö She quoted.
Rand stood up, knocking over his glass in the process. ôDonÆt talk about her like you know her! You didnÆt!ö He roared, pointing a finger at her. ôYou didnÆt know anything about her!ö
ôBlood and ashes, Rand!ö Someone grabbed his shoulder.
He turned to see Brandelwyn AlÆVere, staring at him with wide eyes. Rand looked around. The whole inn had gone quiet, staring in shock or wariness at him. The woman and her friend had gone white as sheets.
ôMaybe you should take a walk.ö Bran said slowly, as if talking to a scared horse about to bolt.
RandÆs eyes tightened, and he gritted his teeth. His throat felt hot and bitter. He shook free of the older manÆs grip and stormed out of the inn.
=====================================================
He found his father by the merchantÆs caravan, helping load caskets on. Normally, the merchantÆs guard or helpers would do it, but Tam always had seen things through to the end, and never shied away from hard work. It was one of the reasons why his father was one of the most well liked men in the village.
He spotted Rand waiting a little ways off and said a brief word to one of the men, before heading over his way.
ôWhat is it, Rand?ö He asked.
ôàCan we go home, Da?ö
Tam was surprised. ôIÆve got to finish up loading this brandy. DonÆt you want to stay for Winternight? YouÆve always stayed.ö
ôPlease?ö Rand felt his stomach burn with oily shame.
Tam looked at RandÆs clenched fists, and rigid position. ôAlright, Rand. Let me just tell Basram, over there.ö He turned and began walking over to the men. ôRemember lad, the flame, and the void.ö He called over his shoulder.
Rand screwed his eyes shut, and went over the mental exercise that his father had taught him, when his mother had died. Clear your mind. Imagine a single, strong flame. Now, feed all your emotions to it.
He was silent the entire cart ride home, and Tam mercifully chose not to press it.
Feed it to the flame. Burn it. By the Light, how long until there is nothing left to burn? Why wonÆt it just burn?
====================================================
He made his decision that night.
His father was washing the plates from their modest supper, scrubbing them fiercely with a rag in a tub of soapy water. Rand sidled into the room and leaned against the wall, trying to formulate what he would say in his mind.
He finally decided to just be out with it. ôDa?ö
Tam didnÆt turn around. ôRand? WhatÆll you need?ö
The clay plate clattered as he stacked it on top of the next one. ôIÆveàIÆve got to leave.ö Rand blurted out. It sounded overly loud in the room.
ôChanged your mind about Winternight?ö Tam asked. He forced the rag inside a clay cup and began rubbing away the sticky excess of the cider. ôNot surprised. A little bit of festivity will get your mind off of things.ö
Rand knew what æthingsÆ he was talking about. He clenched his fist and his eyes tightened. ôNoàno, Da. Not Winternight. I want to leaveàleave the Two Rivers.ö
His father paused on the plate he was scrubbing. Slowly, he set it aside and draped the rag over the side of the tub, before turning around. TamÆs expression was bland.
ôAlright then, Rand. When were you planning on going?ö
The easy acceptance shocked Rand. ôJust like that? YouÆre not going to try and stop me?ö He asked incredulously.
Tam smiled. It was a sad smile. ôSometimes, a bit of journeying is just as good as carousing for leaving behind bad memories. I would know.ö He crossed his legs and twined his fingers together, looking down. ôI left here when my brother died. He got killed, by a pack of wolves. I was the one that found him.ö
ôYour brother? I didnÆt know you had a brother.ö Rand said, frowning.
Tam waved a hand. ôSÆnot important. What IÆm saying, Rand, is itÆs perfectly natural to want to get away. ItÆs what I did. Ran away, traveled with some Tinkers for a while, joined an army, fought in the Aiel War. Afterwards, I met your mother, and came back and settled down.ö
ôYou fought in an army?ö Rand exclaimed. All this new information was slightly overwhelming. Come to think of it, Tam always had known a lot of tales about wars.
ôSure did. Anyway, Rand, IÆm not going to stop you if you want to leave. How soon?ö
ôIs tomorrow too soon?ö Rand asked hesitantly.
Tam blinked in surprise. ôTomorrow? Blood and ashes, Rand, if thatÆs the case weÆd better get packing!ö
He clapped Rand on the back, and they set upon their work in an almost jovial mood.
Rand could almost forget the reason he was leaving. Almost.
=====================================================
The morning was misty, and Rand felt the cool air press damply against his skin. A woodfinch called and was answered, before they repeated the process. Thankfully, the bitemes would not come out until early summer.
He shouldered the saddle and looked around. Tam had left some time ago, and would be back soon.
IÆm leaving. IÆm leaving the Two Rivers. Rand could scarcely believe it. It seemed so unreal. Light, I wonder what Nynaeve will say when she finds out? What Mat and Perrin will say?
The steady thump of a horseÆs hooves caught RandÆs attention. He turned to see Tam leading a horse in from the woods, a chestnut stallion that looked to be in good condition, though Rand couldnÆt be totally sure. Mat was the horse expert, not him.
ôI bought it from AbellÆs stable.ö Tam announced, answered RandÆs unasked question. ôHe said to wish you luck.ö
ôTell him thanks, next time you see him.ö Rand replied.
ôI will. LetÆs get you saddled up.ö
They used an old saddle, still serviceable, that had been lying in a corner of their barn for as long as Rand could remember. They packed some cheese and bread, tightly bound in sacks, and a few waterskins, along with a single, very small cask of apple brandy.
When Rand asked, Tam grinned. ôSometimes a man needs something to warm him on a cold night, and sometimes on those nights, thereÆs no women around. This is for that night.ö
Rand blushed red at that.
When all was said and done, Rand mounted the horse, testing the stirrups with his boots. He danced the horse in a circle. It snorted and pawed the ground. Young, but well-enough trained. Rand mentally decided.
Tam yanked the last strap tight and stepped back, slapping his hands. He looked up at his son.
ôSo, whatÆre your plans?ö Tam asked, placing his hands on his hips. ôBaerlon, then Caemlyn, perhaps?ö They had both looked at a map the previous night.
Rand glanced to the side, where the craggy peaks of his destination waited. ôNo. I think IÆll go west. IÆve always wondered whatÆs over the Mountains of Mist. IÆll hit Darkwood, first, right? Then IÆll come out in the middle of Almoth Plain, in Arad Doman.ö
ôTake care not to get lost. The Mountains are treacherous.ö Tam warned. ôWhatÆll you do after that?ö
ôI donÆt know.ö An idea hit him. ôMaybe IÆll do what you did. You know, join an army.ö
TamÆs eyes widened. ôYou will, will you? Well, I suppose an adventure isnÆt an adventure without a measure of danger.ö His tone had a resigned note to it. ôWait here a moment.ö He said, before running quickly back into the house.
Rand waited, toying with the reins.
Tam came out a little while later, holding a thin case and a letter, sealed with red wax Rand recognized from their dinner table candles.
Rand didnÆt recognize, however, the seal itself, a golden bee with a multitude of bars and arcs at the bottom of the circle of wax. He accepted the case after tucking the letter away in one of the saddlebags, and opened it.
His breath caught. Inside, laid a sword. With a golden heron emblazoned on the hilt and sheath, it looked magnificent. Rand drew it and held it in front of him, awed.
ôFor the love of the Light, Da, how long have you had this?ö Rand exclaimed incredulously.
Rand took a few practice swings with it, and Tam chuckled. ôCareful with that. With all you know about swords, I donÆt doubt you might stab yourself in the foot. IÆve had it since I was a Second-Captain in the Army of Illian. Now, Rand, if you give the recruiter that letterùtake care to not let the wax breakùyou can start out above infantry, so youÆre not just fodder for the first ranks.ö
Rand felt something twist and ache in his chest. He smiled. ôThanks, Da.ö
Tam nodded. ôKeep your wits about you, out there. Your greatest weapon isnÆt your sword or the strength in your arms, but-ô Tam tapped his head with one finger. ô-up there. Your mind and will. And remember, RandàyouÆre always welcome back here, whether youÆre ready to come home or just need a place to rest your bones.ö
IÆm not sure if IÆll ever be ready. He answered mentally.
But what he said was different. ôYeah, Da. I know.ö
Tam smiled. ôThen take care, Rand. Come home safe. Maybe with a woman too, hm?ö
Rand wheeled his horse around. He stared for a moment, at the peaks of the Mountains of Mist. At the gateway he would take to freedom.
Egwene, you always did want to see the world. Rand mused. I guess IÆll see it for you.
Then, with a swift kick, he left the safety of home and threw himself into a journey that would take him to the depths of human morality, through the warpaths of the Great Blight, into the bowels of darkness and face to face with death itself.
=====================================================
If you haven't guessed, I built this on the premise that Egwene died from the channeler's fever instead of lived, since Nynaeve wasn't there.
Yes, I know she was a main character. If you don't like it, then you may hate me, detest me, and live in an unsightly manner.
Need feedback.
I do, however need feedback and some beta readers before I post this on FFnet.
Ladies and gents, one and all, I present to youà.
=====================================================
"Solace"
Prologue û Oppressed
=====================================================
ôàand in the valley of the Red Eagle, the old blood ran true in His veins. It burned in His heart and seared His soul, screaming for the right to taste the blood of the ancient enemy once moreàö
-excerpt from the The Beginning : The Reborn Chroncicle, composed by Noal Charin, in the Year of Woe 877, of the New Era, the Third Age.
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass leaving memories that become legend, and then fade to myth, and are long forgot when that Age comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wing was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings in the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
In a place once known Manetheren, thorn to the Dark OneÆs foot and bramble to his hand, lay sprawled the sleepy community of the Two Rivers. No remnant of past glories remained save forgotten ruins, hidden in the mountains, and all that remained of their terrible defiance was a stubbornness that was legendary and inherited through many generations.
The Winespring Inn, named after the Winespring Water, one of the two rivers that gave the Two Rivers their name, sat as a centerpiece to EmondÆs Field, a goodly sized inn thatÆs owner was also the Mayor.
So close to Bel Tine, the spring festival that everyone prepared for months in advance, the inn was doing a roaring trade. The bar was full, and many men and women were resting from the strenuous activities that came with preparation.
Most had almost forgotten the terrible tragedy that had occurred not even weeks ago. A death in the MayorÆs family, due to an unexplainable disease. Nynaeve had been away visiting another village, unable to get back in time to do anything but make the youngest daughter of Brandelwyn AlÆVereÆs four, Egwene, comfortable as she succumbed to fevers and shaking and chills.
Not some. One of which was Rand AlÆThor.
He sat at the end of the bar, staring into the depths of his mug of apple cider. He was only fifteen, going onto sixteen summers old, therefore not old enough to taste of his own fatherÆs famous apple brandy.
Idly he pondered if the looks Bran was sending him from across the bar, oneÆs of mirrored and shared grief, meant that he might let him try, just this once. Maybe. Probably.
Of course, this speculation was only to take his mind off of the matter that seemed to be strangling him silently. Egwene.
The other girls would never be quite as pretty as she would be. Maybe thatÆs why they were so nasty to her. She always did like hanging around with Mat and Perrin, Dav and Wil, all the boys and me. Rand shook his glass slightly, watching the amber swirl around slowly. He hadnÆt drank much. He wasnÆt very hungry or thirsty at the moment.
He had always known that he and Egwene had something different. There had been plenty of rumors, that his Da was going to into marriage discussions with Mistress AlÆVere.
But that doesnÆt matter now, does it? Light, Egweneà
Two women walked in, mopping their brows. From their red hands the old, unimportant dresses they didnÆt care about, Rand surmised they had been washing the wool. He looked back down. His gaze was dull as he examined the whorls of the aged oak counter.
Bran sent him a worried glance, as the two women took the two empty stools just to RandÆs left.
He let his mind drift, somewhere, anywhere but to her. They had had a bumper crop of apples this year, and Tam had been able to make nearly twice his normal harvest.
In addition, Tam AlÆThorÆs apple brandy had sold exceptionally well this year. A Ghealdan merchant caravan had found their way up north into the Two Rivers, and had become enamored with the new community. They had declared that his fatherÆs brandy was the best they had ever tasted, and promised to return the next year. They had bought up nearly his entire stock.
Da said he might buy some extra seed and see if the Aynals might give up that orchard heÆs had his eye on for a while. We also could use a new mule, since BelaÆs getting into her autumn years nowà
ôLight, Mari, the sunÆs really packing down isnÆt it? Going to be a burning summer, I just know it.ö The woman gabbed to her friend. She took the mug of cider from the innkeeper with a nod. ôThanks, Bran. Sorry to hear about your daughter, by the way, terrible shame, that.ö RandÆs grip tightened on his mug, until his knuckles turned nearly white.
Bran merely nodded woodenly, and moved on, taking two empty glasses from another Rivers man to clean.
The woman turned back. ôSo, did you hear? Cari CoplanÆs been making calf eyes at that new merchantÆs guard!ö Her tone was scandalized. ôLight, the womanÆs hardly decent, isnÆt she?ö
ôIs that it? A æterrible shameÆ?ö
RandÆs voice was slightly hoarse, having not used it since he asked Bran for something to drink a good while ago, but it cracked like a whip.
The woman turned to him, as if surprised he could speak. ôIt is, isnÆt it? She was a pretty little thing, real sad, it was.ö
Her pitying tone drove Rand over the edge. ôSo is that it? YouÆre just going to forget about her, start planning for Bel Tine and pretend her death never happened!?ö Nearby, Bran sent him a look of alarm.
Her friend, Mari, flipped her braid over her shoulder and leveled a look at him. ôThereÆs no reason for that tone, young man.ö
The other woman nodded. ôThatÆs right. She was a nice girl, and itÆs a tragic thing sheÆs gone, but lifeÆs got to move on. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.ö She quoted.
Rand stood up, knocking over his glass in the process. ôDonÆt talk about her like you know her! You didnÆt!ö He roared, pointing a finger at her. ôYou didnÆt know anything about her!ö
ôBlood and ashes, Rand!ö Someone grabbed his shoulder.
He turned to see Brandelwyn AlÆVere, staring at him with wide eyes. Rand looked around. The whole inn had gone quiet, staring in shock or wariness at him. The woman and her friend had gone white as sheets.
ôMaybe you should take a walk.ö Bran said slowly, as if talking to a scared horse about to bolt.
RandÆs eyes tightened, and he gritted his teeth. His throat felt hot and bitter. He shook free of the older manÆs grip and stormed out of the inn.
=====================================================
He found his father by the merchantÆs caravan, helping load caskets on. Normally, the merchantÆs guard or helpers would do it, but Tam always had seen things through to the end, and never shied away from hard work. It was one of the reasons why his father was one of the most well liked men in the village.
He spotted Rand waiting a little ways off and said a brief word to one of the men, before heading over his way.
ôWhat is it, Rand?ö He asked.
ôàCan we go home, Da?ö
Tam was surprised. ôIÆve got to finish up loading this brandy. DonÆt you want to stay for Winternight? YouÆve always stayed.ö
ôPlease?ö Rand felt his stomach burn with oily shame.
Tam looked at RandÆs clenched fists, and rigid position. ôAlright, Rand. Let me just tell Basram, over there.ö He turned and began walking over to the men. ôRemember lad, the flame, and the void.ö He called over his shoulder.
Rand screwed his eyes shut, and went over the mental exercise that his father had taught him, when his mother had died. Clear your mind. Imagine a single, strong flame. Now, feed all your emotions to it.
He was silent the entire cart ride home, and Tam mercifully chose not to press it.
Feed it to the flame. Burn it. By the Light, how long until there is nothing left to burn? Why wonÆt it just burn?
====================================================
He made his decision that night.
His father was washing the plates from their modest supper, scrubbing them fiercely with a rag in a tub of soapy water. Rand sidled into the room and leaned against the wall, trying to formulate what he would say in his mind.
He finally decided to just be out with it. ôDa?ö
Tam didnÆt turn around. ôRand? WhatÆll you need?ö
The clay plate clattered as he stacked it on top of the next one. ôIÆveàIÆve got to leave.ö Rand blurted out. It sounded overly loud in the room.
ôChanged your mind about Winternight?ö Tam asked. He forced the rag inside a clay cup and began rubbing away the sticky excess of the cider. ôNot surprised. A little bit of festivity will get your mind off of things.ö
Rand knew what æthingsÆ he was talking about. He clenched his fist and his eyes tightened. ôNoàno, Da. Not Winternight. I want to leaveàleave the Two Rivers.ö
His father paused on the plate he was scrubbing. Slowly, he set it aside and draped the rag over the side of the tub, before turning around. TamÆs expression was bland.
ôAlright then, Rand. When were you planning on going?ö
The easy acceptance shocked Rand. ôJust like that? YouÆre not going to try and stop me?ö He asked incredulously.
Tam smiled. It was a sad smile. ôSometimes, a bit of journeying is just as good as carousing for leaving behind bad memories. I would know.ö He crossed his legs and twined his fingers together, looking down. ôI left here when my brother died. He got killed, by a pack of wolves. I was the one that found him.ö
ôYour brother? I didnÆt know you had a brother.ö Rand said, frowning.
Tam waved a hand. ôSÆnot important. What IÆm saying, Rand, is itÆs perfectly natural to want to get away. ItÆs what I did. Ran away, traveled with some Tinkers for a while, joined an army, fought in the Aiel War. Afterwards, I met your mother, and came back and settled down.ö
ôYou fought in an army?ö Rand exclaimed. All this new information was slightly overwhelming. Come to think of it, Tam always had known a lot of tales about wars.
ôSure did. Anyway, Rand, IÆm not going to stop you if you want to leave. How soon?ö
ôIs tomorrow too soon?ö Rand asked hesitantly.
Tam blinked in surprise. ôTomorrow? Blood and ashes, Rand, if thatÆs the case weÆd better get packing!ö
He clapped Rand on the back, and they set upon their work in an almost jovial mood.
Rand could almost forget the reason he was leaving. Almost.
=====================================================
The morning was misty, and Rand felt the cool air press damply against his skin. A woodfinch called and was answered, before they repeated the process. Thankfully, the bitemes would not come out until early summer.
He shouldered the saddle and looked around. Tam had left some time ago, and would be back soon.
IÆm leaving. IÆm leaving the Two Rivers. Rand could scarcely believe it. It seemed so unreal. Light, I wonder what Nynaeve will say when she finds out? What Mat and Perrin will say?
The steady thump of a horseÆs hooves caught RandÆs attention. He turned to see Tam leading a horse in from the woods, a chestnut stallion that looked to be in good condition, though Rand couldnÆt be totally sure. Mat was the horse expert, not him.
ôI bought it from AbellÆs stable.ö Tam announced, answered RandÆs unasked question. ôHe said to wish you luck.ö
ôTell him thanks, next time you see him.ö Rand replied.
ôI will. LetÆs get you saddled up.ö
They used an old saddle, still serviceable, that had been lying in a corner of their barn for as long as Rand could remember. They packed some cheese and bread, tightly bound in sacks, and a few waterskins, along with a single, very small cask of apple brandy.
When Rand asked, Tam grinned. ôSometimes a man needs something to warm him on a cold night, and sometimes on those nights, thereÆs no women around. This is for that night.ö
Rand blushed red at that.
When all was said and done, Rand mounted the horse, testing the stirrups with his boots. He danced the horse in a circle. It snorted and pawed the ground. Young, but well-enough trained. Rand mentally decided.
Tam yanked the last strap tight and stepped back, slapping his hands. He looked up at his son.
ôSo, whatÆre your plans?ö Tam asked, placing his hands on his hips. ôBaerlon, then Caemlyn, perhaps?ö They had both looked at a map the previous night.
Rand glanced to the side, where the craggy peaks of his destination waited. ôNo. I think IÆll go west. IÆve always wondered whatÆs over the Mountains of Mist. IÆll hit Darkwood, first, right? Then IÆll come out in the middle of Almoth Plain, in Arad Doman.ö
ôTake care not to get lost. The Mountains are treacherous.ö Tam warned. ôWhatÆll you do after that?ö
ôI donÆt know.ö An idea hit him. ôMaybe IÆll do what you did. You know, join an army.ö
TamÆs eyes widened. ôYou will, will you? Well, I suppose an adventure isnÆt an adventure without a measure of danger.ö His tone had a resigned note to it. ôWait here a moment.ö He said, before running quickly back into the house.
Rand waited, toying with the reins.
Tam came out a little while later, holding a thin case and a letter, sealed with red wax Rand recognized from their dinner table candles.
Rand didnÆt recognize, however, the seal itself, a golden bee with a multitude of bars and arcs at the bottom of the circle of wax. He accepted the case after tucking the letter away in one of the saddlebags, and opened it.
His breath caught. Inside, laid a sword. With a golden heron emblazoned on the hilt and sheath, it looked magnificent. Rand drew it and held it in front of him, awed.
ôFor the love of the Light, Da, how long have you had this?ö Rand exclaimed incredulously.
Rand took a few practice swings with it, and Tam chuckled. ôCareful with that. With all you know about swords, I donÆt doubt you might stab yourself in the foot. IÆve had it since I was a Second-Captain in the Army of Illian. Now, Rand, if you give the recruiter that letterùtake care to not let the wax breakùyou can start out above infantry, so youÆre not just fodder for the first ranks.ö
Rand felt something twist and ache in his chest. He smiled. ôThanks, Da.ö
Tam nodded. ôKeep your wits about you, out there. Your greatest weapon isnÆt your sword or the strength in your arms, but-ô Tam tapped his head with one finger. ô-up there. Your mind and will. And remember, RandàyouÆre always welcome back here, whether youÆre ready to come home or just need a place to rest your bones.ö
IÆm not sure if IÆll ever be ready. He answered mentally.
But what he said was different. ôYeah, Da. I know.ö
Tam smiled. ôThen take care, Rand. Come home safe. Maybe with a woman too, hm?ö
Rand wheeled his horse around. He stared for a moment, at the peaks of the Mountains of Mist. At the gateway he would take to freedom.
Egwene, you always did want to see the world. Rand mused. I guess IÆll see it for you.
Then, with a swift kick, he left the safety of home and threw himself into a journey that would take him to the depths of human morality, through the warpaths of the Great Blight, into the bowels of darkness and face to face with death itself.
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If you haven't guessed, I built this on the premise that Egwene died from the channeler's fever instead of lived, since Nynaeve wasn't there.
Yes, I know she was a main character. If you don't like it, then you may hate me, detest me, and live in an unsightly manner.
Need feedback.
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