Paaran Disen was a huge city, in Joar Addam’s opinion. It also erased the title of ’The World’s Most Beautiful City’ from his hometown, Shorelle. Everywhere he stared he saw Aiel, Aes Sedai both male and female, scurrying about busily. To top it off, Paaran Disen was bedecked with wondrous Ogier work, buildings rising here and there, sparkling all under the sun.

He was thirteen years old, and in most people’s opinion, he was a bit ’late’ on going to Paaran Disen for training to become Aes Sedai. Strangely, he agreed to this. His mother was a notable Aes Sedai herself, and when she discovered that her only son had the spark born in him, she flapped around like a sho-wing, excitedly planning on having him carted off there immediately.

But Joar did not want to be Aes Sedai. For the past three years he resisted his mother’s efforts of having him packed off and shipped to Paaran Disen, and, after a long and hard struggle, he had failed and now found himself walking along the wide and chora-lined streets, gawping at everything he saw.

Now, if only he could find the admission building…

Joar looked around, wide-eyed, bumping around people. He had been walking around Paaran Disen for…what, two hours now and still no sign of that building. Panic was starting to crawl in the pit of his stomach. Why his mother did not want to accompany him in the first place he could never know, but—. He considered asking an Aes Sedai for directions, but shame got the better of him and tied his tongue, making him look like a complete idiot before the first Sedai he approached. The golden-haired woman walked off laughing at his face.

Feet aching, Joar decided to sit down under a chora tree, enjoying the serenity of its mighty shade. His head still whipped around, hoping to find some sign—anything—that might direct him to this hall.

Thank you for making my first day in Paaran Disen miserable, mother. Joar thought glumly as he took a bite of bread.

He sat there in silence, eating up his snack, wondering. Maybe he should just go home after all. He didn’t mind helping his father catch and gut fish, as long as he had time to compose his sonatas and play his flute and harp. He liked music, not the One Power. Only, his mother refused to see it. Joar glowered at the last piece of bread in his hands before popping it into his mouth.

He stood up, brushing his hand on his breeches. But something else caught his ears. Turning, he looked to his left, frowning.

Screams erupted from the crowd, followed by loud grunts and side-splitting laughter. People, Aiel and Aes Sedai both, started jumping out of the street. Joar’s mouth opened. A grolm bull was rampaging, howling madly and was trying to shake off the reins that bound its head and mouth. The beast’s huge head knocked off carts and stalls, scattering fruits and vegetables on the street. People screamed.

Three kids about his age were riding on the grolm’s back, holding each other tightly. And they were laughing. A fairly handsome boy with dark hair to his shoulders was keeping a tight grip on the leash, cackling mischievously. Behind him sat a very pretty girl with waves of black hair bedecked with stars and crescents. The girl’s pale arms encircled the boy’s torso tightly, and there were spots of color on her cheeks as she screamed with glee everytime the grolm tried to pitch her off its back. Another boy sat behind the girl, shrieking with laughter and waving his arms wildly. This one had a closely cut hair, and had an anthletic look about him.

The grolm leapt forward—and went straight for Joar. With a frightened yell, he barely had time to jump off the street before the grolm trampled the paving where he had been standing on seconds earlier. The boy riding in front yelled, "Sorry!"

"You’re mad!" Joar shouted, shaking his fists. "Your pet nearly snapped my head off! HEY!"

The black-haired girl laughed. "You’ve angered him, Lews Therin! OH!"

"That’s why I said sorry!" Lews Therin snorted in laughter as he steered the grolm around. "WOOHOOOOO!"

"All right! Buckle up some more!" the other boy yelled excitedly.

As if understanding his words, the grolm reared on its hind legs and thrashed wildly. But Lews Therin, the girl and the boy did not fall off—instead, their laughter got louder than ever. That was when a middle-aged man skidded to halt, clutching a stitch on his side. He pushed Joar aside roughly.

"Lews Therin! Mierin Eronaile! Duram Laddel! STOP THIS STUPIDITY RIGHT NOW!" the man screamed as he raised his hands.

Joar shuddered as he felt the man seize saidin. Air and Spirit lashed out so fast that Joar had to stop his eyes from blinking to see what happened next. In an instant the Aes Sedai had the three children shielded and wrapped with flows of Air so they floated off the grolm’s back. Aiel quickly came forward and calmed the rampaging animal and led it away.

"The Dark One give me every evil in this world, except for you THREE!" the man shouted angrily. "Everything, but you! I’m growing tired of all this! You, Lews Therin, you should behave the son of a King that you’re supposed to be! And you, Duram Laddel—I cannot understand why you let yourself be dragged by such an abominable fiend! And you, Mierin Eronaile—your teachers speak most highly of you and look at what you’re doing? Running around with fools!" he spat the last words out as if they were poison.

"Forgive us, Ishar Sedai!" Lews Therin gasped. "We just—"

"SHUT UP!" Ishar Morrad Chuain yelled. "I’m tired of your apologies! You never learn your lessons! I will see it that Eval Sedai and Kamarile Sedai knock sense into your thick skulls!"

And he stomped off dragging the three as they floated off the ground. Joar shook his head just like everybody else. It sounded like that Lews Therin was a notorious student here in Paaran Disen. Well, he could start making his mother proud by avoiding that kind of company. Shifting his bag and clutching his bundle tighter, Joar proceeded to continue looking—and stopped dead when someone tapped him by the shoulder.

He looked around to find another boy around his age. He also had dark hair, and had a fair face. He also looked winded. "Joar Addam? I’m Elan Morin. I’m supposed to take you with me to the Residence Halls."

Sighing with relief, Joar followed Elan as he snaked through the crowd. Joar noticed that Elan had the symbol of the Aes Sedai stitched in the small of his back.

"You’re Aes Sedai already?" Joar asked, impressed.

"Huh? What? Oh—no, not yet. But I’m nearing it, I’m sure." Elan replied distractedly. They came to a stop before a large white building that could have easily swallowed Shorelle in it. "Just go inside and talk to the Aiel by the table. He’ll tell you where you’ll be staying. Bye."

That was all and Elan Morin slid back into the crowd and disappeared. Joar shrugged and went inside. The place was—marvelous. There was no other word for it. Boys and men ranging from ten-year-olds to early thirties could be found in this place. Some were running around playing, while others were sitting by the awesome staircases reading books propped open on knees. Gaping silently, he proceeded to the Aiel, aware of every eye on his back.

"Uhm…uh…excuse me…"

The Aiel looked up and smiled. "Yes?"

"I’m…Joar. Nira Sedai’s son."

"Ah! Yes, of course!" the Aiel replied as he stood up and took Joar’s things. "We’ve been expecting you. If you would come with me, please."

And the Aiel led him through the vast building, talking rapidly at his side. Joar didn’t really understand what the Aiel was saying; he was busy gaping at his new home.

"Classes start as early as six in the morning…you might be wondering why there are no girls…they stay in another place not far…but don’t worry, boys and girls always see each other in meals…blah, blah, blah…"

Joar just nodded absently and murmured "yes" and "oh" and "I see". And they came to a stop before a polished oak door with a griffin knocker and a bronze 10 on it. The Aiel bowed and left. Joar pushed the door open and found himself in a huge room with four four-poster beds. The beds near the window, near the balcony and near the door were all occupied, it seemed. Things like books and inkpots were lying on the rumpled sheets. The only free bed was directly across the one near the balcony. Joar dropped his bag and bundle on it and sat down, taking in the details of the room.

Several bookshelves lined the walls, and there were four study tables, each one just beside a bed. A few chests and drawers, a bundle of candles—it was simple, but beautiful. Wanting to get some sleep, Joar pulled off his cloak and boots and snuggled into bed. Oh, this was heaven compared to their little house in Shorelle. Maybe he would become used to being Aes Sedai after all…

His eyelids were just closing when the door banged open. Yelping, Joar sat up as if a bolt of lightning had hit him. His eyes bulged. Lews Therin and Duram Laddel stopped dead at the door.

"What are YOU doing here?!" The three of them said in perfect unrehearsed unison.
==
Lews Therin smiled warmly. "New company, then? Looks like your spare bed will be used now, Dur."

Duram Laddel shrugged and leapt onto his own bed, shrugging. Lews Therin chuckled and shook his head, dark locks swinging. Then he returned his eyes to Joar, who regarded him with fear. He spread out his hands before him.

"I don’t bite." He said. Then he grinned wryly. "Not if I could help it."

For some reason Joar could not see, the last words that escaped Lews Therin’s mouth made Duram laugh very hard. The athletic boy was guffawing like a horse, hands clutching his stomach. Joar gaped openly at him, while Lews Therin regarded his friend with a satisfied smile.

"So." Lews Therin said as he walked the length of the room and sat down at the foot of Joar’s bed. "Who are you? We didn’t know Paaran Disen accepted applicants older than ten years. You quite caught my interest there."

Joar swallowed and nervously licked his lips. Lews Therin spoke so eloquently, for someone he had seen running amok on a grolm. Was he really a King’s son? Besides, he didn’t look like a bully—although he did have that mischievous spark in his eyes.

"I’m Joar Addam. From Shorelle." He replied, shying away from those calculating dark eyes. "My mother’s an Aes Sedai. She forced me to be here. I do have the spark born in me, but I—I don’t want to become Aes Sedai."

"What?" Duram suddenly interjected. "You actually don’t want to become an Aes Sedai? The Light burn me, but you must be the first freak who I met to say that! Almost everyone wants to become like—like us."

"Tsag!" Lews Therin burst out. He gave a start, as if realizing he had just cursed. He blinked. "Sorry about that. Shorelle? The port city near the Sea of Jeren? I’ve never been there, but—hmm. Nice to meet you, Joar Addam." So saying he offered a long-fingered hand.

Joar took it and shook it, but he let it go immediately. "Well, so…uhm…where are you two from?"

Lews Therin exchanged another wry grin with Duram. "We both come from Tzora. Surely you know where Tzora is?"

"Yes! It’s the greatest city in the world!" he squeaked.

"Indeed." Duram agreed. "The greatest city in the world." He said that as if saying that the stars were beautiful.

Lews Therin snorted. "Don’t let Elan catch you speaking of Tzora in that mocking tone, Dur. He’ll wrap you with Air and bounce you on the park faster than you can blink."

"Oh, I am actually shivering with fright."

"I’m telling you. Elan Morin doesn’t like anyone speaking against Tzora. Not even me."

"Will he be the next King, then?"

"No, but he’ll definitely be the High Counselor. He—"

"Elan Morin, High Councilor? I’ll believe that when the Ogier have shrunk!"

Joar followed the volley of words with his head. From the sound of it, everytime a topic steered to Tzora, the conversation always ended up like this. A few more sentences, and both Duram Laddel and Lews Therin burst laughing out loud. Then Joar realized Elan Morin was the one who led him here, the handsome one who always looked distracted over something.

"Hush, you stunted sho-wing!" Lews Therin panted. Then he turned to Joar again. "I’m sorry we quite forgot you there. So! You must want to tour around?"

"Sure. I’d very much appreciate it if you could show me—!"

But then, a bell tolled somewhere in the city, to be echoed at once by more. Joar stood up and looked out of the window. The crowd seemed busier than ever. He turned to Lews Therin and Duram.

"What are the bells for?" he inquired.

"That signals our free hours are over." Duram replied. Then he grimaced. "Blood and bloody ashes, its Lodel Sedai’s class!"

Lews Therin’s face turned sour too. "You tell me. Only Barid Bel finds anything worth learning in that rubbish of a—never mind."

The boys stood up to leave. Unsure of what he was to do, Joar picked up his bag and made to follow them, but Lews Therin stopped him.

"I’m going to attend classes too!" he answered when Lews Therin asked him what did he think he was doing.

"No, no, you can’t come into lessons yet." Lews Therin explained. "Your list and times will be given to you tomorrow, so you have the entire day free. Best you enjoy it, because once you start attending classes—" he shrugged "—well, only the Light knows how you will miss this day. Tour around—it’s okay to get lost here, but wait for sunset until we come back, then we can take you around the city by night." That was all and the door slammed shut on his face.

Blinking, Joar looked around again. He could try the books, of course, but he was always better in music. Briskly he returned to his bed and took out his flute, reverently assembling it. He put it to his lips and began blowing the first mild notes of a soothing melody. The sun climbed steadily higher outside. When it reached its peak, Joar had put down his flute and went out of the room.

Unlike earlier, the great hall was empty. Even the Aiel who received him earlier was gone. Everybody must be in their classes. Shrugging, Joar decided to go outside. He could always ask for some directions back, given that his tongue won’t get tied again. He left the Residence Hall and re-entered Paaran Disen’s crowd.

He went just about everywhere. He went to the towers, and paused to see about a hundred male and female Aes Sedai, separately making two gigantic statues of a man and woman, each one holding up an orb. He wondered vaguely what those statues were for—but then his feet took him somewhere else before he could even begin to imagine their purpose.

He saw Aiel and their famous wagons, merchants, nobles, jugglers, Ogier, a couple of Nym—those two definitely made his eyes bulge—and up in the sky, ten pairs of sho-wings fluttered in all directions. The sun was starting its descent from the sky when he decided to rest under a chora tree.

"Thirteen!" somebody said loudly, making him jump.

He looked around the chora tree and found a girl sitting leaning on the trunk, hidden by some thick bushes. No wonder he didn’t see her. She had long dark hair, and had the look of a loner with her. However, she was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. She didn’t seem to notice him there.

"Excuse me?" he said.

The girl looked up and gasped. He stepped over the bushes to join her, but she moved away.

"I’m not going to hurt you." He said. "I’m Joar Addam. And you?"

She considered him suspiciously. He felt goosebumps on his arms, and he realized that she had taken hold of saidar a moment ago and nearly attacked him with it. When she was convinced he didn’t mean her anything, she brushed off her hair from her face and answered, "Lillen Moiral."

"I see. What have you been doing, Lillen?" he asked as he sat down beside her.

"None of your concern!" she snapped, and even before he could apologize, she was gone.

"Women are strange." Joar told himself as he emerged from the bushes.

"Really?"

He nearly yelped in fright. The same girl who was with Lews Therin and Duram Laddel earlier was standing before him. From the distance in which he saw her earlier on the grolm’s back, she had been pretty. Now this close to him, she was—beautiful.

Joar made to answer, but all that escaped his mouth was an odd gurgle. Mierin laughed in a melodious voice. Her laughter seemed to make his knees shake.

"I see you’ve met Lillen." She said, looking at him with her soulful eyes. "She isn’t really sociable, you see. Leave her alone and she’ll not make trouble for you; but force your company on her and she can blast you out of her way like a gnat. She is quite powerful, but she keeps her abilities hidden. Kamarile Sedai and Zorelle Sedai said so."

He couldn’t answer. Somehow all he wanted was just to stare at her…

Mierin laughed again. "Oh, don’t gape at me like that. If Lews Therin sees you, he’ll thump you with his fists."

He blinked. "Lews Therin?"

She grinned again, but that grin was enough for an answer. Joar felt his shoulders slump.

"Oh, I’m sorry. The Light forgive me, I didn’t mean to gape like an idiot, I swear." He told her.

She waved away his apology. "You’re quite new here. I’m Mierin Eronaile."

And they started to chat until the sun set in the horizon.

Ared Mosinel droned on and on about inverting, but Lews Therin listened only half-heartedly. He was immersed in scrawling something on his piece of parchment, somehow managing to look listening very carefully when his ears in honest were plugged shut. Ared Mosinel’s words washed over him, but he did not care.

"…And so inverting can be done, but the ’invisibility’ of the weave depends on…"

Lews Therin nodded thoughtfully. Somewhere behind him he heard Duram Laddel supress a cackle. No doubt Ared Sedai beamed at him again. Tongue sticking out of his lips, Lews Therin frowned deeply as his right hand moved vigorously across the parchment, the ink flowing from his quill leaving wet trails in wild loops.

"Lews Therin!" came an urgent whisper. "Lews Therin!"

He looked right and found Elan Morin staring at him, eyebrows knitted in disapproval. Lews Therin smiled, showing all of his perfectly aligned teeth. Elan Morin glowered.

"What under the Light are you doing?" Elan hissed.

"Scrawling, what does this look to you?" Lews Therin replied sarcastically.

"You should listen to the lessons more, your majesty, and for the first—"

"Tsag! I have more use for my time than listen to that rubbish. Shut up." Lews Therin snapped as he continued to draw.

Elan was just about to remind him of the proper behavior expected of the Crown Prince of Tzora, but Ared Sedai called on him to recite about the advantages of inverting. Flushing, Elan Morin had no choice but to stand and stammer his answer. This time, Lews Therin and Duram Laddel both had to stuff their fists into their mouths to stop laughing.

When Ared Mosinel left the classroom, Elan Morin wasted no time in snatching up the parchment from under Lews Therin’s nose.

"What’s this—creature?" Elan said, wrinkling his nose at the beast Lews Therin had drawn.

"It’s called dragon, you stunted sho-wing." Lews Therin said coolly as he snatched the parchment away. "What do you think? Frightening enough? For the last two hours I’ve designed my personal sigil—and this is it. It shall be known as The Dragon, Lews Therin’s personal—"

He was cut off as the paper was whisked away from his fingers for a second time. Lews Therin whipped around angrily, but it was just Duram Laddel. The athletic boy was whistling as he observed the drawing.

"You see, Lews, I think you should remove the wings." Duram commented. "And the belly looks awfully inflated. Has this dragon swallowed everything the Can Breat has to offer?"

Elan moved to Duram’s shoulder and nodded. "Yes, the wings look ugly, indeed. I personally think this dragon should be made serpentine—"

"With five claws on each hand—trimmed in gold—"

"Yes, yes, and a billowing mane and moustache—that should go well—"

Lews Therin puffed himself up and pulled away the parchment. "This is my banner, you Light-blinded idiots, and I decide what it looks like!"

But Elan Morin snatched the paper again and smoothed it onto his desk. With his right hand he snatched his quill and started dripping it into his inkpot. Lews Therin’s eyes widened.

"STOP THAT—!" he yelled, but Duram stopped him from reaching Elan.

Elan Morin channeled; Duram and Lews Therin quickly sensed him take hold of saidin. In the blink of an eye Lews Therin’s drawing was erased. Rolling his sleeves, Elan started to draw. Lews Therin looked horrified, but Duram was smiling satisfactorily with every stroke of the quill.

A few minutes later and Elan Morin showed them a new dragon. Serpentine indeed, colored in scarlet in gold, with five claws at the end of each leg. Duram whistled.

"This, your majesty, is more worthy of being called the Dragon Banner." Elan Morin said proudly.

But Lews Therin shook his head in utter disgust. "Blood and bloody ashes, you’ve ruined my banner!"


Joar Addam sat unmoving on his tripod, aware of giant butterflies fluttering somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Eval Ramman Sedai and Nemene Damendar Boann Sedai were staring down at him importantly. Nemene Sedai in particular was interested in his case; he could sense a man and woman channeling, but he could not touch saidin without playing a musical instrument. Put on simple terms, he had a block.

"Yes, I see what you mean." Nemene nodded as Eval finished explaining about Joar’s problem. "Now please leave your student with me. I will see to it that I remove this block of his, so he can start his lessons."

Eval clapped the young man by the shoulder as if to soothe him before leaving. When the door shut, Nemene started pacing around the room, keeping her eyes onto Joar. The young man felt more nervous each passing second. He licked his lips; his throat felt very dry.

"Has your mother noticed this block before?" Nemene asked.

Joar strained himself to think. "N-no. I don’t think so, Aes Sedai."

Nemene sniffed. "Nira should look after her child more often. Very well. When you play your—instruments—, can you channel at once? Or do you prefer a specific instrument, like a harp?"

"No, Aes Sedai. Any instrument does fine." Joar replied. Light, he wanted to go away!

The woman stopped pacing and breathed deeply. She nodded, half to herself and half to Joar. "I see. Yes, yes, it is clear. Don’t worry, my dear, when you leave you’re as normal as you can be. But…ah, yes…"

Joar shuddered as he sensed the woman channel. Then she wrapped him with Air and lifted him off the tripod, his arms and legs hanging limply. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Nemene smiled.

"Brace yourself, my dear. This can be…painful."

Something invisible siezed his brain, the pressure building so quickly. Blackness swallowed Joar’s eyes. The pain mounted and mounted, until he thought his skull had cracked open. His screams did nothing except bounce off the warded walls. Nemene watched him with fascination.


Mierin was practically bouncing as she and her classmates left Zorelle Sedai’s class. Earlier Zorelle Sedai had taught them about Tel’aran’rhiod, and she was said to have the qualities of a Dreamer. She, along with four other girls, were going to have special lessons about dream walking starting next day. Mierin was so happy.

She wondered if Lews Therin and his boys started to learn dreamwalking already. No matter, she would tell him about this wonderful news. Mierin pivoted on her heels and walked toward the Men’s Residence Halls, beaming.

Something caught her eye as she walked, so she paused and squinted to see what it was. Not far from her was Lillen Moiral with her usual papers, talking seriously with Kamarile Sedai, who was shaking her golden head slowly. Lillen looked sulky. But then the younger woman bowed and went away. Kamarile Sedai shrugged and returned to her study.

Mierin frowned. Lillen was another one chosen to be part of Zorelle Sedai’s special classes. She wondered what could Lillen want with Kamarile Maradim Nindar. Maybe she wanted to be a psychiatrist too? No, that was pure nonsense. Lillen could very likely blast her patients away with saidar once they started to rant about their lives.

Shrugging, Mierin walked on, eager to tell Lews Therin about her day.
==
"We are in serious trouble." Duram Laddel breathed as he, Lews Therin and Elan Morin made their way to the bedroom they shared with Joar Addam. "Tel Janin and Barid Bel are surely—surely—with Ishar Sedai right now and squabbling over on how to dip us again in hot water."

Elan Morin reached up sulkily and wiped off the bluish sugar frosting that was sticking on his hair. "This time, Lews Therin, being Crown Prince of Tzora will not save you. Maybe next we’ll find ourselves packing our bags and returning to our houses, probably with axe and rope hot at our heels."

Lews Therin’s handsome face could have been carved from ice for all the coldness on it. Like Duram and Elan, he too was covered from head to foot with sugar frosting, eight different kinds of sauces and he had a large tea stain on his silk shirt. Hour earlier there had been a catastrophe in the Dining Hall, started by Barid Bel and Tel Janin, his arch enemies ever since he arrived to study here in Paaran Disen. Everything started with a plate of cake floating above his head; Tel Janin had been stupid enough to forget that Lews Therin could easily sense any weave of saidin no matter the size. Minutes later and the other boys were fleeing the Dining Hall for their lives.

"It’s fine with me, really." Duram was saying. "I’ve had enough to put up with boring lectures and such; I bet my father can teach me on anyway."

"But still!" Elan argued. "Nobody would be pleased to see us, not after so many…"

Still not speaking, Lews Therin laid a hand on the door and pushed it—and stopped. The first thing he saw was a blanket covered lump that was quivering on Joar’s bed. Frowning, he approached the quivering lump and laid a hand on it.

The sudden lash of the One Power was overwhelming. Lews Therin felt his hair stand on end before he was blasted off his feet and slammed into the wall with a loud crash and a painful thud. Sparks dancing across his eyes, he was vaguely aware of two more thuds—enough to tell him that he was not the only one who was blasted by saidin.

Joar Addam was sitting on his bed, clutching the blanket close to him as if his life depended on it. His face was deathly pale, his breathing came in ragged gasps—and his eyes were wide as dinner plates but not really seeing anything.

"Put us down, you fisherman!" Elan Morin yelled. "Blood and bloody ashes, why did you attack us like a mad axeman? Put us down!"

Joar gave a start and blinked. Spots of color quickly appeared on his cheeks as he released them slowly.

"I’m sorry…" he said, eyeing them with his head tilted sideways. "I thought you were—I was—"


"What happened to you?" Lews Therin demanded as he touched the back of his head, wincing. "You look like you’ve swallowed a dozen sourberries without drinking water! Are you all right?"

Joar shuddered and pulled the blankets closer. He dived into his pillows and refused to move. Elan, Duram and Lews Therin stared.

"Have you…" Elan began, hesitating. "Have you, by any chance, been sent to Nemene Sedai?"

Joar stopped trembling. Then a muffled murmur came from beneath the blankets that sounded like a throaty "yes". Duram shook his head seriously while Lews Therin frowned and scratched his chin. Elan sighed sympathetically.

"I know what it feels like to be handled by Nemene Sedai, believe me." Elan said. "Don’t worry, Joar. It will pass. Just…don’t dwell on the pain too much. It will pass."

"Is everyone here?" said Mierin, suddenly appearing at the door. "You all? Good, good!"

"Mierin!" said Lews Therin, walking forward and hugging the girl briefly. "What brings you here?"

Mierin beamed and kissed him lightly on the cheeks and turned to the room at large. "There will be a fireworks festival next week! There will be people from all around; I’ve heard the teachers whispering excitedly about it. And I think representatives from Collam Daan will be coming too!"

Duram Laddel and Lews Therin stared at one another. Then a pair of evil grins curled on their lips. Elan Morin’s eyes widened, while Joar Addam looked lost—very lost. Mierin suppressed a giggle.

"Uh...what are you planning on?" Joar asked suddenly.

Lews Therin beamed. "You're a sharp one! It's time you belong in the group!"

He waved a hand, and Duram Laddel, Elan Morin and Mierin moved closer. Lews Therin talked and spread out their design for the upcoming festival with rich details. Joar Addam's grin got wider and wider with each word.


Ishar Morrad Chuain was rubbing his temples by the time the short, fat and golden-haired boy that was Tel Janin finished with his complaints. When will these boys stop making his head throb? When it wasn’t Lews Therin who was here talking to him, it would always be Tel Janin instead, or Barid Bel. There was no choice between the two groups of boys: all of them were exceptionally bright and strong in the One Power, and they all shared one talent—Mischief Making. The very thought made the older man want to gnash his teeth in fury.

"What I know is, both parties caused the mess, Tel Janin." Ishar told the fat boy wearily. "Both parties will be punished for the mess."

Tel Janin’s fat cheeks colored in fury. He opened his mouth and resumed talking, his many chins wobbling. "Lews Therin and that punk Duram Laddel all started it, sir! It isn’t fair that Bel and I would also be thrown in—"

"I have decided, you puffed-up piglet, and if you do not want me to expel you, you had better drag your fat bottom out of my office and ready yourself! NOW!" Ishar yelled, pointing a ringed finger toward the door.

Tel Janin immediately shut his mouth and wobbled out of the study. Ishar Morrad Chuain rolled his eyes. Sooner or later, he was going to do himself and the other Aes Sedai favor by kicking Lews Therin, Duram Laddel, Elan Morin, Tel Janin and Barid Bel out of Paaran Disen. It was time they got their peace back.

By the time the festival neared, Paaran Disen was close to bursting. People from all around the nine nations had visited and filled the wondrous city. Aes Sedai and Aiel were helping erect numerous tents of various colors and sizes. The students also caught the unmistakable festive air; everyone was grinning from ear to ear from sunup to sundown. The chora trees that lined Paaran Disen’s many streets were decorated with glowbulbs that sparked different colors.

Joar Addam was tucked in his blankets that night, a clipboard perched on his lap. He was frowning at the notes he had just written for his new composition: a sort of welcoming march that would be performed hours later, when the people from Collam Daan would be welcomed by a delegation of twenty Aes Sedai (ten men and ten women). Apparently his mother Nira had also boasted of his prodigy in music. The very thought of composing for Aes Sedai was enough to make him blush with shame.

Writing the march also helped him forget what Nemene Damendar Boann had done to him when she removed his block. Elan Morin was right; distract yourself and don’t dwell on the pain—and you’d be well soon enough. Joar didn’t dare tell anyone else about what had been done to him; he had a nasty feeling that if he did, he would just find himself floating on the ceiling and staring down at his own dead body on his bed. He shivered in spite of the room’s warmth.

There was a knock on the room and Lews Therin entered, looking disgruntled in spite of his elaborate velvet coat and silk shirt. The strange things was, Lews Therin was carrying a sizable basket containing a pair of knitting needles and several large balls of yarn. Joar raised an eyebrow and tilted his head sideways.

"What are those for?" he asked as he scribbled a rest after a half note.

Lews Therin did not answer. He kicked off his boots and settled down on his own bed, deftly stringing the knitting needles with red yarn. To Joar’s amazement, Lews Therin started knitting, the needles clicking loudly.

"You can knit?" Joar burst out. "The Light burn me, you can knit!"

Lews Therin snorted loudly with disgust as he worked with surprising ease. "Punishment for something somebody else started. Don’t gape at me like that—or I’ll use these needles and gouge out your eyes."

Chuckling, Joar shook his head. "Where did you learn to knit? I can’t even hold a needle and tell one end from the other!"

"I have seven sisters, and I’m the only boy." Lews Therin replied testily as his needles clicked and clicked.

Putting down his composition, Joar went to join the other boy on his bed. He fingered the balls of yarn—they were larger than what he saw—and looked at Lews Therin. The other boy looked resigned, and by the way his elegantly long fingers moved, he was doing something he had done countless times before.

"What’s it like having seven sisters?" Joar inquired as he took two balls of yarn and started juggling them. "I’m the only child, is it exciting?"

"It’s a disaster." Lews Therin answered. Joar blinked; he had already finished—a sock. "Not bad, isn’t it? I haven’t knitted in months."

He threw the sock at Joar, who caught it. The other nodded appreciatively. "It looks nice and warm. You knit very well."

Lews Therin grunted. He was already starting on a second sock.

"How many socks do you plan to make anyway?"

"Five hundred pieces."

"WHAT?!"

"Ishar Sedai wants 250 pairs of socks, so I’ll give it to him." Lews Therin replied. "And you know what? I’m supposed to make that lot—without using the One Power."

Joar shook his head with disbelief. And then Duram Laddel entered the room with his sleeves rolled up. Moaning painfully as he knuckled his back, the taller boy sank into his pillows, ignoring his shoes. Lews Therin did not look up from his knitting.

"How was the laundry, Dur?" he asked casually.

"Shut up!" Duram snapped.

Lews Therin caught Joar’s eyes and gave him the tiniest hint of a nod. Joar swallowed; here was Lews Therin being punished already, but he was still up to go play his trick at the fireworks. The boy was simply impossible!

Hours passed without many events. Duram Laddel had fallen asleep, murmuring incoherently. Lews Therin knitted and knitted, his pile of brightly colored socks growing taller and taller. Joar was also silently working on his march. Just when he placed the last note, the bells of Paaran Disen suddenly tolled loudly, announcing the start of the festival.

The reactions were instantaneous. Duram Laddel bolted upright, and Lews Therin dropped his needles and the half-finished, baubled sock he was working on. They stood up and started fixing themselves. Joar followed only hastily. He made to go find Lavine Sedai and give her his piece, but Lews Therin grabbed his sleeve.

"Remember. The chora tree with the most glowbulbs."

"I will, yes."

That was all and he dashed outside, his boots pattering loudly on the tiled floors.


Mierin was observing herself on the mirror as she stuck silver pins of stars and crescents into the lush waves of her dark hair. She looked pretty in her sleeveless white robe, her small waist encompassed with a highly intricate silver belt that was studded with pearls and sapphires. Lews Therin’s eyes would surely pop out of his head at the sight of her.

She smiled and stood up, fitting her feet into the velvet slippers on the floor. She spun around and faced Lillen Moiral, who clearly had no intention to leave the room. The other girl was buried deep in her pillows, asleep. But Mierin knew better; she was willing to bet every piece of jewel she had that Lillen was in fact strolling in Tel’aran’rhiod.

Standing on tiptoe, Mierin made her way across the room and gently closed the door behind her.

Elan Morin was getting more jittery as he tried hard to look ’natural’ as he slowly approached the huge, brightly-colored tent that housed the fireworks. Several da’shain were guarding the tent, chatting merrily over mugs of ale.

A servant bearing a tray of punches passed by, and Elan quickly snatched a glass and drank in great hungry gulps, hoping to calm down his nerves. Wiping his lips, he squinted hard at the crowd—and found Joar Addam approaching from the other side of the road, his face wooden. They say each other, and Elan Morin nodded curtly.

These fireworks were from Tzora, and Elan had an idea what kind of explosives they were. Lews Therin was determined to get the biggest they could find, and then set it off somewhere. No point wasting the fireworks for the eyes of some who don’t even appreciate, he had said. But the tiny voice in Elan’s head kept wailing that they should stop this stupidity.

Joar tilted his head sideways. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Elan Morin went to join the da’shain to distract them. Joar slid into the tent like a spider.


Ared Mosinel stopped halfway as he was just about to drink his wine. The wards he’d placed in the fireworks tent suddenly responded; he’d inverted their weaves so only he could see them—and it turned out that Ishar’s shred calculations that some twits would cause trouble turned out to be right. Motioning for his da’shain to take his wine, the Aes Sedai stood up and shrugged into his bottle green velvet coat.

He had a little spanking to do.
==
Saine Tarasind clutched her satin skirts anxiously as Jaric Mondoran and Kamarile Maradim Nindar surveyed her particulars on the parchment. Jaric was holding the paper with his left hand; he was chewing a piece of spiced ham as he read, his black velvet cloak swirling oddly at his ankles as if they were blown by a private breeze. Kamarile was busy reading too, her right index finger tapping her lower lip as her eyes moved.

"What do you think?" she asked the two. "Will that be enough for me to enter Collam Daan?"

Jaric swallowed and handed the paper to Kamarile. He shook his head. "I don’t think so, Saine. The research center only admits people who have third names."

"He is right," the ascetic Aes Sedai nodded. "And it is not just the matter of third names, Jaric. Remember when Ishar Morrad Chuain had hoped to join their biotechnology research team? He got rejected."

"It is a nasty fortress to attack, Collam Daan." Jaric grimaced. "A lot of work and proving to do, if you want to penetrate it. I can only wish you good luck, Saine. Perhaps you would succeed where many of us had failed."

Saine snatched back her parchment irritably. She looked at Kamarile. "But you managed to pass! How did you do it?"

The golden-haired woman spread out her hands. "We have different fields, you and I. I dance the dance of the mind, child, you dance to the tune of education. I cannot help you, if you ask me how I managed to pass. Different fields mean different ways."

Bowing, Kamarile and Jaric walked away and joined the dancing crowd, the young man having courage to ask the older woman to waltz with him. Kamarile looked scandalized for a moment, but Jaric had already grabbed her hand and spun her to the floor, laughing. Saine shook her head and pivoted on her heels—and smashed into something the size of a small boulder.

She felt the wine splash onto her dress, and she reached for saidar, ready to thump senseless whoever had bumped into her with arm-thick flows of Earth and Air. Her eyebrows rose as Lews Therin bowed very low before her, his dark locks touching the ground.

"Forgive me, Aes Sedai." He said. "Punish me, and I will accept."

For a moment she did consider punishing him, but she calmed herself down. With effort she pushed saidar away and motioned for Lews Therin to straighten himself up. The young man obeyed smoothly, but he did not dare walk away. Saine put on her coldest frown and crossed her arms below her breasts.

"And where do you think you’re going, child?" she demanded icily. "Hurrying like a hurricane in a crowd like this, I’m surprised you haven’t angered other Aes Sedai by your bumping! Look at what you did to my dress!"

She gestured at the ugly red stain on the peach colored cloth. Lews Therin considered and then produced a silk handkerchief from his sleeve. He stepped near and began dabbing cautiously on her chest. The young man’s hand was trembling. Saine realized how low-cut her neckline was, and color bloomed on her cheeks.

"You can’t remove the stain that way, you stupid boy!" she spat. "Use your saidin to clean it!"

"Yes, Aes Sedai. Forgive me, Aes Sedai." Lews Therin mumbled as he returned his kerchief back up his sleeve.

He channeled, and the stain and wetness started to dissolve. When it was finished, Lews Therin returned his eyes to the ground, still shuffling nervously on his booted feet.

"Get out of my sight! Now!" Saine shrieked. The boy obeyed quickly.

She followed him with her gaze, still very much aware that she was blushing furiously. She squinted—and thought Lews Therin had three tubes of fireworks with him.



Ared Mosinel rounded on the corner and walked toward the fireworks tent. He stopped dead when he was just ten strides away. The da’shain guarding the tent were laughing as they watched Elan Morin make a fool out of himself. The boy was red as a tomato now, obviously drunk. He was arguing that he could still drink some more wine, that he could still stand. If only he could see what he looked like.

Another trainee was with them, Nira’s son Joar. He was holding Elan Morin’s mug and was refusing to give it. A frown bloomed on Ared’s face. Maybe it was just an accident that his wards gave off the alarm. Judging by Elan Morin’s look, he could easily wander into the tent and mistake it for a washroom. Still, he had to make sure.

"Good evening." He said.

The da’shain and Joar quickly stood up and returned his greetings. Elan Morin was giggling stupidly on the grass.

"No troubles, I trust?" he asked as he lifted the tent flap and peered inside. Nope, no one inside. The crates and tubes were all lined up neatly.

"None, Aes Sedai."

"Good." He nodded as he reinforced his wards. He stood up. "Enjoy the night."

When he vanished into the crowd, Elan Morin shook his head vigorously and wiped his lips. He looked at Joar.

"Warded." Joar explained in a soft voice. "I sensed him before he inverted the weaves. He’s put in some more."

"Tsag!" Elan exclaimed. "Let’s go."

Leaning heavily on Joar’s shoulder, Elan pretended to be drunk again. They left the tent.


By the time they arrived by the shade of the chora tree with the most glowbulbs, Duram, Mierin and Lews Therin were already shouting with glee as the second firework tube was fired up. The sparklers were awesome—forming gigantic blue flowers across the night sky. Mierin was clapping her hands so hard they were red.

"What took you so long?" Lews Therin asked as he met them. "Did you find it?"

"The tent was warded." Joar explained. "I barely had time to duck out before Ared Sedai came."

And then Duram Laddel joined them. "But did you find it?"

Elan nodded wearily. "We did. Staggering big, I’m telling you. That’d be enough to illuminate all of Paaran Disen!"

"Then it’s my turn to try tomorrow." Lews Therin smiled. "Go on, Elan, we have some ham and honeycakes. Join Mierin over there. You look starved."

Elan Morin walked up to Mierin with Duram, and she started giving them paper plates filled with ham and cake. Lews Therin turned to Joar.

"Look at this." he said, proffering a folded parchment.

Joar took the piece of paper and unfolded it. Inside was a very detailed scrawl of what looked like a sword made out of crystal. At the down right corner was Lews Therin’s elegant script, saying "Callandor".

"It is beautiful, Lews Therin!" Joar breathed. "But why show me this?"

He looked up at the prince’s face. Lews Therin was smiling conspiratorially. "Because I will need your help in making it."

"But what is this?" Joar asked, returning to the drawing. "Callandor…"

Lews Therin clapped him on the shoulder. "That, my friend, will be one of the most powerful sa’angreal ever to be made."

The night had already deepened to the pitch darkness of midnight, but the glowbulbs and saidin-made fireballs in Room 10 were not yet extinguished. The room was peaceful, except for the clicking of Lews Therin’s knitting, Joar Addam’s scrawling, Duram Laddel’s snores and Elan Morin’s mumbling in his sleep.

"One hundred and five!" Lews Therin said as he threw a hideously yellow sock onto the pile on his lap. He yawned widely and deeply. "The Light burn me, but I’m exhausted like a grolm…oww…"

He relaxed, leaning on his pillows and closing his eyes. Joar looked up from the new piece he was composing, and for a moment he thought Lews Therin had already fallen asleep. As if reading his thoughts, Lews Therin opened his eyes and looked at him.

"What’s that? He inquired.

Joar smiled proudly. "A new composition, entitled Sparkles In The Night. It’s written for harp right now, but I’m going to write one for a flute when we have time."

"I see." Lews Therin smiled as he took up his knitting again. "You know…I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d earn your third name soon. That march you composed…it was simply beautiful. Perhaps when I am King of Tzora, I will make you my court-bard."

Joar blushed. "Oh, well I—!"

And then Elan Morin bolted upright, his face deathly pale and his eyes wide. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his shirtsleeves were slick with sweat. Joar stared at him in shock. Elan Morin turned wild-eyed to Lews Therin, and spoke in a guttural voice.

"They’re going to kill me! They’re going to kill me!" Elan said tragically, making wild gestures with his hands. "I failed to protect the Crown Prince, when I am his High Councilor! I led him to the worst decisions and incited a rebellion! The Prince died! Oh, they’ll kill me!"

"W-what?" said Joar.

Elan turned to Lews Therin, who was watching him with unnerving calmness.

"What will I do? What will I do? I failed my Prince! Oh, oh!" Elan sobbed.

Lews Therin smiled soothingly. "Tell them you will stop the rebellion and take up your fallen Prince’s sword. That will make the people forgive you."

Elan’s eyes widened some more, and he took a very deep breath. "Yes…yes…YES! Yes, I will do as you say! Yes, I’ll tell them! I’ll them!"

Then he quickly sank back to his pillows, and in the blink of an eye, was snoring again, fast asleep as if he’d never waked.

"What under the Light was that?" said Joar, his jaw dropping open. "He’s mad!"

Lews Therin chuckled with amusement as he resumed knitting. "That’s normal. Elan does that…nearly every night. He has this tendency to…err…live out his dreams sometimes."

Joar shook his head as he laughed. Light, that was probably the strangest thing I have ever seen!


The hazy reflection of the real world in Tel’aran’rhiod was slightly terrifying, but Mierin had quick control over her fears. Now she was easily skimming the world of dreams, enjoying it immensely as she shifted her robes to gowns, shifts and whatever kind of garment she could think of.

Pivoting on her heels, Mierin thought up a full-sized mirror and surveyed her reflection in it, the reflection of what she might look like when she was already a woman. She knew she would be more beautiful than ever before, a flower in bloom, a melody in its highest peak. Then the hazy reflection of what Lews Therin might be appeared beside her grown image—a gorgeously handsome dark-haired man, clad in the royal regalia of the monarchs of Tzora.

The images brought a smile on Mierin’s pink lips. Yes, that was the future she deserved. The most powerful female Aes Sedai and Queen of Tzora, while Lews Therin the Lord Commander of the Light and her King. They were perfect, made for each other. Made to rule above all else, the two of them.

A shrill giggle made Mierin jump, and the mirror and the images vanished in a flash. She spun around, seizing saidar, the stars and crescents in her hair chinking against one another. She narrowed her eyes in the direction of a nearby thicket, and raising her right hand, fired a fireball straight into it.

The unmistakable glow of saidar erupted from the thicket, and her fireball vanished. Rage welled up in her.

"COME OUT, LILLEN!" Mierin shrieked.

Still giggling sarcastically, Lillen Moiral emerged from the thicket, straightening her gray sleeveless robe. Her eyes glinted with mockery and contempt. Mierin had to grab her skirts to prevent her hands from shaking.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded of the other girl.

Again, that flash of contempt. "I never knew Tel’aran’rhiod now belongs to you, Mierin Eronaile. Every Dreamer has the freedom and the right to go about here. I am a Dreamer, like you. I have every right and freedom you also have."

It took great self-control to prevent Mierin from launching herself and killing the other girl. She closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths.

"You saw the mirror?" she said sharply.

Lillen chuckled wryly. "I would have expected it if you imagined yourself holding the other half of the Choedan Kal, and Lews Therin the other. Such ambitions."

"Are you mocking me?" Mierin demanded, her icy voice cracking like whip.

Lillen threw back her head and laughed very loudly. She stopped quickly, and shot Mierin another contemptuous look before vanishing.

Back in her body, Lillen opened her eyes to the darkness of the bedroom she shared with three other girls. The sound of Mierin crying in her sleep brought a satisfied grin on her lips.
==
Paaran Disen’s Hall of Valor was a wide stretch of Power-tended grass that stretched as wide as a huge lake. Surrounded by high, Ogier-built walls, it looked like a formidable arena from the outside. Flags bearing the symbol of Aes Sedai waved lazily upon the twenty posts that surrounded the high walls. In one part of the Hall of Valor, the clanging of swords and cheers sounded.

A group of ninety boys, all in their mid-teens and stripped to the waist were huddled together as two of them dueled with each other. Duram Laddel was seething with fury as he attacked Barid Bel, forcing the latter to keep up his defense unless he wanted to have his head hacked off. Ared Mosinel was watching the boys, already touching saidin just in case something happened.

"BURN YOU!" Duram Laddel shouted as he performed an up-thrust, causing Barid Bel to drop his sword. "HA!"

"STOP!" Ared shouted, raising both hands. "Stop! Both of you are good!"

Duram spat on the grass and wiped the streams of sweat down his face, not to mention glaring at Bel as he did so. The other boy returned his glare with a sneer and he stalked off, running a hand through his hair. Ared Mosinel stepped in the middle of the huddle and started explaining new forms for the sword, but Duram was only half-listening as he sat on the grass beside Lews Therin.

"Nasty little cheater," Duram ground his teeth. "If I hadn’t seen him getting ready to knee me, I would’ve…" he shook his head. "You were spectacular back there against Nelethor. Couldn’t have done it any better."

Lews Therin inclined his head briefly. "Thank you."

"So…" Duram said, looking around in case someone was listening. "How about our plan tonight?"

At this, Lews Therin grimaced. "I can’t. Mierin wants to dance."

Duram blinked, and then laughed. "That girl has wrapped her finger around you completely, hadn’t she? Well, I can understand. With a face like that, it’s hard not to obey."

Lews Therin scratched his nose. "Maybe I can sneak off…Mierin gets tired dancing easily."

"Yes, and you two will go shout at each other again in the streets the next day."

"Shut up, Dur."


"Mierin…please wake up. Mierin?"

Mierin opened her eyes, and immediately felt how swollen they were. Her eyeballs stung, enough to tell her that she had been crying too much in her sleep. Lifting her blankets, she tried to see who roused her. The golden-haired face of Ilyena Moerelle greeted her. She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"You’ve been crying in your sleep. I heard you when I woke up." Ilyena said. "Are you all right? I’ve brought you some breakfast. You’ve already missed two classes. Kamarile Sedai was looking for you."

The golden-haired girl pointed on her study table, where a cloth-covered tray was waiting. Mierin nodded, sniffing. Concern surfaced on Ilyena’s face as she placed a hand on Mierin’s shoulder.

"Nightmares?" she asked. "Or did that idiot do something to you again?"

Mierin managed a small laugh. Ilyena and the two other girls with her and Lillen in this room all agreed that she was too good to be with Lews Therin. Ilyena certainly thought that Lews Therin was nothing but a puffed-up pig bladder, and that he deserved to be skinned alive, salted and left under the sun to dry.

"No, it’s not Lews Therin." Mierin giggled as she took the cup of milk Ilyena gave her. "I walked in Tel’aran’rhiod last night, and had encountered nightmares. I was so afraid."

"That’s why I don’t like dreamwalking." Ilyena sniffed. "It’s better to be a Cloud Dancer, I’m telling you."

Ilyena was one of Paaran Disen’s most potent Cloud Dancers, and she wasn’t even a full Aes Sedai yet. She could readily match what her mentors could do, and the most notable of all was when she made it rain strongly in Mar Ruois when the country was besieged by an awful drought.

"Oh no." Mierin said faintly as she started to eat some bread. "I can’t even make a wisp of cloud."

They both burst out laughing together. And then Ilyena fished out a folded parchment from the pockets of her wide skirts and gave it to Mierin.

"What is this?" Mierin asked.

"From your admirer, I think," said Ilyena. "that shy one with the dark hair and eyes."

Smiling, Mierin opened the parchment and stared at a song composed for her. Entitled Daughter of the Night, there was a hastily written note at the end of the paper. She instantly recognized Lews Therin’s hand.

I wrote this with help from Joar Addam. I do hope you like it, my heart. I’m looking forward to dance with you tonight.

Mierin re-folded the parchment and smiled very sweetly. Ilyena grinned.

"Well, get up. You can’t afford to miss more classes!" she said.


Elan Morin yawned heavily as he walked down the streets holding a book in one hand and a steaming mug of chocolate in the other. When he woke up earlier, a laughing Joar Addam informed him that he was ridiculous last night, babbling nonsense. The strange thing was, he couldn’t remember anything. Shrugging, he walked toward the tent of the people from Collam Daan. Five tables were set side by side, each one groaning under the weight of books. Elan fingered his pocket—yes, he still had enough coin to spend for more books.

The black-haired lady grinned when he approached. "You’ve come for books, yes? All new publications; a bargain, only ten coppers each."

Elan pocketed the book he had been reading and searched through the new titles. He rummaged through the pile, searching and searching, until he found what was probably the strangest title in the lot. He picked up the black book entitled Light And Shadow: The War for Ta’veren.

"I would not read that if I were you." The woman said slowly. "You get a lot of insane ideas there, yes. But still…each to his own taste."

He paid for the book and walked away. He had always liked philosophy and theology; it would be a great help when Lews Therin was King, and he raised as his High Councilor. Also, the title intrigued him so. Maybe it was because Lews Therin was ta’veren and he was fascinated by it.

And then the bells tolled loudly. Elan stopped dead.

"Tsag! I’m already late!"

So saying he pivoted on his slippers and dashed in the opposite direction toward Ishar Morrad Chuain’s class.


Eval Ramman smiled just as a fireball the size of his head materialized in midair, being sustained by a sweaty-faced Joar Addam. The boy’s progress was meteoric; since Nemene Damendar Boann removed his block he learned very fast, and Eval was sure it would only be months before his student got to join the regular classes.

"That’s it, Joar, you’re doing good." He said. "Now, concentrate…keep up the flow of Fire…slowly now…and enlarge the fireball."

Joar’s grip on the table tightened, his knuckles going white. He frowned at the fireball and slowly increased its size and blaze.

"Extinguish the flame." Eval directed.

The boy let out a sigh and the flame vanished.

"Very good." Eval said. "Now we know you are quite good with Fire. You look drained, boy. I’ll give you two hours free time, but I expect you to be back here sharp when your hours are over. We shall see if you’re adept in Earth too. You may go."

Joar stood up and bowed. "Thank you, Aes Sedai."

He left the room and was intending to go to the Dining Hall when his mother suddenly rounded on the corner. Nira smiled and glided over to her son, kissing him on the forehead.

"Been doing well, I trust?" she asked.

"Yes, Aes—mother." Joar replied. "Eval Sedai says it’s only a matter of time before I can go join the regular classes and study with everyone, mother."

"I’ve always known you were powerful." Nira said proudly. "Ah, but wait. I have a gift for you. Take this."

She reached into her pocket and drew out a little green figurine of a fat man sitting cross-legged with a sword across his knees. Joar took it gingerly, and to his great surprise felt saidin stir in him, as if being attracted by the fat man. He looked up at his mother in wonder.

"But mother…" he breathed. "This is a—"

"Yes, darling. That is an angreal." Nira smiled. "I had it made for you. Jaric Mondoran and Paetrim Arellin were kind enough to volunteer."

"Oh thank you, mother! Thank you!" Joar said as he hugged his mother.

"You take care of that, all right? Use it only when it is badly needed. I love you, darling. You go eat now."

Joar nodded and ran excitedly. Nira was still smiling as she watched him vanish around the corner

Tel Janin squinted through his piggy little eyes, surveying the tent of fireworks that was unguarded during the light of day. He’d heard that one of Tzora’s most expensive fireworks was in the lot, that gigantic box of Star Glimmer. It was to be lighted on the last day of the festival, which was still five days away. Surely Lews Therin and his cronies would want to light the Star Glimmer. He couldn’t accept that. If he’d have the box first, then…

A hand closed in on his shoulder, and he gave a frightened yelp and jumped up. It was only Barid Bel, accompanied by a ratty, freckled boy named Zintas. Bel looked in the worst of moods.

"What happened to you?" Tel Janin demanded.

"That idiot Laddel cheated me in sparring." Bel said spitefully. "He kneed me."

"Everyone associated with Lews Therin is a cheater." Tel Janin said darkly.

Zintas nodded. Bel looked at him with satisfaction, before turning his attentions to the tent. He frowned at it.

"Warded?" he said.

Sullenly, Tel Janin nodded. "Difficult. We’d be detected even if we’d only put in a finger inside."

Zintas jumped just as Bel caught hold of saidin, drawing on and on until he was toeing the line between the safe and lethal. Even Tel Janin’s small eyes widened considerably. Bel’s lips twisted into a sneer. A drop of sweat trickled down his left cheek—he really was very near the lethal limit!

"Yes. I thought so. Soft. Very, very soft." Bel muttered as he frowned at the tent. "I see he has not tied off the Warding; he wants to be able to feel it the instant someone goes inside…"

"You can see the weaves?" Zintas squeaked. "But—everyone said it’s inverted!"

Bel moaned as he released saidin, finally staggering and falling on his knees. Zintas and Tel Janin looked at him in awe.

"Yes, I can See it." Bel answered. "But only if I am standing exactly between life and death. This is my Talent, but not even the Lord Commander of the Light has been able to put a name to it. I am the only one who has this. The only one"

He spat out the last words bitterly, and Tel Janin knew why. Bel only exceeded Lews Therin in very few things, and his unknown Talent was one of those. Ever since the day of his birth Bel had been under Lews Therin’s shadow, and he had endlessly brooded upon on how to destroy that shadow and finally get his share of the light.

"Not doing anything, I hope?" somebody spoke.

This time, all three boys jumped. They spun around and came face to face with Jaric Mondoran. The Aes Sedai observed them with a cool and calculating gaze.

"I have been drawn here by such great quantities of saidin." Jaric said, smoothly cutting of Tel Janin. "I understand that trainees like you are not allowed to draw so much, for you can sever or burn yourselves out. Why did you do that, Barid Bel?"

Bel stiffened as he tried to stand. "I wanted to see…the fireworks tent, Aes Sedai."

Jaric’s eyes glittered. "Well, like what I have said to the countless before you, there is a box of premium class Star Glimmer in that tent. Now that I have satisfied your…err, thirst for knowledge, I expect you will want to run to your next class."

The three boys mumbled a hasty "Yes, Aes Sedai. Thank you, Aes Sedai" and went off. Jaric reached up and pensively fingered his chin. Tonight he will have to add two of his own da’shain to the guards of the tent.


Lews Therin gaped in horror from the balcony of Room 10 just as the royal procession from Tzora walked past the Residence Halls. From afar he clearly saw the personal sigil of his sister Miravelle Therin Aeromon, a black rose in bloom on a background of white. Just seeing the sigil drained blood from his face.

"I take it that you don’t want to see the Princess Miravelle and that you don’t want her in turn to see you?" said Elan Morin.

Lews Therin nodded wordlessly. Elan sighed.

"But she will see you whether you like it or not." He said. "After dining with the High Seat, she will surely ask for you. What are you going to do?"

"I still won’t see her!" Lews Therin said, aghast. "She will try to coax me to visiting home, and then all six of them will be on top of me! They will never ever let me go back here!"

"Ah, but your sisters love you." Elan said, his voice mocking.

Lews Therin shook his head again. "They hate me! They want me to go claim the throne and wear the crown! I’m only sixteen, Elan! I have so much to do!"

At this, Elan Morin threw back his head and guffawed merrily. Lews Therin frowned at him in disgust.

"Go on, laugh all you want!" he said. "But hear this! If ever I ascend the Throne of Tamyrlin so young, you too will be raised High Councilor beside me whether you like it or not!"

That shut Elan Morin up. The black-haired youth looked severely scandalized. Lews Therin smirked triumphantly.

A knock came and an extremely pale Joar Addam entered the room. Ignoring Lews Therin and Elan Morin’s greetings, he absently removed his boots and crawled into his bed. A few heartbeats later and he was in a deep sleep.

"They must be working him so hard." Lews Therin frowned concernedly. "Look at him, Elan! He’s so much thinner now than when we first saw him!"

"Maybe…I can help him." said Elan, rolling his sleeves as he went to Joar’s side. "Kikuichi Sedai says that Spirit woven with Water can relax and rejuvenate the body, even in small quantities."

He placed his hand on Joar’s cheek and channeled. Lews Therin watched as Elan wove such fine and delicate weaves, transferring it into the other boy’s body. It certainly had pleasant effects, because when Elan removed his hand, Joar’s breathing was a lot calmer now and some color returned to his cheeks.

"That’s better!" Lews Therin said cheerfully.

There was another knock and Kamarile Maradim Nindar entered the room. Elan Morin was quickly on his feet, and in one sweeping motion both he and Lews Therin bowed. The golden-haired woman smiled at them.

"Good afternoon to you both." Kamarile said. "Thank you for the greeting, my darlings. Lews Therin, if you would come with me? The High Seat wants to see you demonstrate your theory on flight using weaves of Spirit and Air."

"Now, Aes Sedai?" Lews Therin shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes, my dear. Now. They are waiting with your sister."

Lews Therin shut his eyes and grimaced deeply. Elan had to work really hard to keep his face smooth. Kamarile offered her right hand and Lews Therin reluctantly took it. Elan felt the familiar goosebumps popping on his arms, and before his eyes both Lews Therin and Kamarile Maradim Nindar seemed to melt into the air…and vanished.


Still grimacing, Lews Therin opened his eyes. The four-poster beds and messy study tables of Room 10 had vanished, only to be replaced by an odd long table, on the other side of which waited twenty male and female Aes Sedai and the Princess Miravelle. Kamarile glided over to her vacated seat and sat down unceremoniously.

Lavinia Eldrene Corvin, head of the Women’s High Seat, cleared her throat and took some papers infront of her. Lews Therin recognized it as his report.

"You have an outstanding theory, Lews Therin." Lavinia Sedai said. "We have read and reread your papers, but for your theory to be approved and be made known to all for its benefits, you must show it to us."

He didn’t want to look at their faces. Instead, his eyes landed on his sister. She still looked as regal and beautiful as ever. She met his eyes resolutely. He was the first one to break the gaze.

"As you command, Aes Sedai."

Lews Therin breathed deeply, and with the breath saidin came crashing home, bringing the familiar sweetness of life and sensory overload. Deftly he combined arm-thick flows of Spirit and Air, directing it to his own body. His clothes started to flash different colors, first slowly and then with increasing speed. The High Seat and Princess Miravelle watched with great interest.

The tingling came and spread down his arms and legs. And then his cloak started to grow. This earned amazed gasps from the Aes Sedai. Lews Therin channeled some more, and his cloak started flowing around him like water, waving and cresting as if alive.

"I did not know Spirit can make non-living things expand!"

"Such complicated weaves!"

"How—?!"

The velvet grew and flowed until it covered Lews Therin completely. He focused. He was in one with the cloth. He WAS the cloth. Switching from Spirit to Air was easy, and the writhing mass of velvet floated and soared upward to circle around the domed roof.

"The boy has vanished!" somebody exclaimed.

Murmurs of approval rippled through the council. Miravelle looked around importantly, trying to see if anyone dared oppose her darling brother’s idea.

"Lews Therin, if you could…come back, please." Nerem Brillin Aster said.

The mass of velvet landed on the floor, and it started flashing in colors once more. And the cloth started to shrink, and Lews Therin was there again, standing.

"Brilliant." Kamarile commented with a smile. "I trust it will do for long-distance flight?"

Lews Therin nodded. "One can cruise around the continent Aes Sedai, given enough supplies and rest. But to cross the World Sea will require the use of an angreal, or even better, a sa’angreal."

"The food will expand too?"

"No, Aes Sedai. It will be…one with you."

Nerem nodded. "Yes, yes. Very brilliant. You may go."

Lews Therin bowed and walked toward the door. His sister rose as if to follow him, but he dashed away even before she could say a word.

:AAAHHH!!:

Enjoy reading. This fic was first posted in TarValon.Net, in the Creative Endeavors forum. :D

it's amazing!
*snuggles Edeleas*
I'm looking forwanrd to read more! :D

Thank you. :)

Duram Laddel was laughing very loudly that morning, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks as he slammed his fists onto the table, making bowls of soup and loaves of bread jump. He was not the only one laughing like mad, but almost everyone in the Dining Hall. Beside him, Lews Therin was doubled up with hilarity, trying to breathe and cackle at the same time. Even the champion of the status quo Elan Morin had long abandoned his reserve; he was guffawing like everyone else.

Nelethor Cambyses, a trainee in the same year level, was standing in the middle of the Dining Hall, speaking in a loud carrying voice about the demise of three unfortunate lads last night. Lads named Barid Bel, Tel Janin and Zintas Mellin.

"And then the idiot pig Tel Janin tried to sneak into the tent, not knowing that Jaric Sedai reinforced the Warding, being linked to Ared Sedai earlier when they modified it." Nelethor was narrating to the crowd. "Tel Janin did get to the box of the Star Glimmer, but Zintas, being a wretched watcher, started panicking when he saw Ared Sedai and Jaric Sedai approaching with a hundred da’shain. He started yelling like a girl, and Tel Janin, in his panic, channeled unwittingly, and—"

Nelethor paused to breath, and the clamor rose in the Dining Hall.

"MORE! YOU CAN’T STOP RIGHT AT THE CLIMAX!" Lews Therin shouted.

"MORE! MORE! MORE!" Duram Laddel cheered, quickly copied by everyone.

"MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE!"

Nelethor motioned for silence. "Peace! So, Tel Janin channeled Fire, and in a matter of seconds every single firework in the tent was ablaze—and the result was the brightest Light Show Paaran Disen has seen in three hundred years!"

Someone stood up. "YES! I SAW THEM WHEN JARIC SEDAI TOOK THEM OUT OF THE TENT! THEY WERE COMPARABLE TO CHARCOALS!"

"But where are they now?" a girl with blonde pigtails asked.

"Yes, where are they?"

"Are they even alive?" another girl asked jokingly.

Nelethor shrugged mockingly. "All I know is, the three of them are working in the Dung Pits."

The laughter exploded. People passing outside thought an explosion occurred. The most humiliating punishment was to be sent working in the sewers, removing clogs and other things from the pipes. The odor from there was so terrible that it was said it would take one week’s worth of bathing to clear it off from your body. Every person to be sent there became Paaran Disen’s laughing stock for a maximum of six months.

"I would like to see Bel’s face," Lews Therin said darkly.

"Indeed you would." Mierin laughed as she sipped some milk. "I am glad you were away dancing with me then, or else you would be the one being insulted right now."

Lews Therin grinned sweetly at her and stroked her cheek. "So! I’m going out today. I haven’t hunted for three months. Who wants to come with me?"

Duram Laddel grimaced sourly. "Can’t. I’m still helping out with the laundry."

"And I still have to finish the report I would present tomorrow." Elan Morin replied.

Lews Therin looked at Mierin, who also shook her head. "Zorelle Sedai."

Good mood slipping off quickly, Lews Therin silently returned to his soup. Elan Morin patted him on the shoulder.

"Why not ask Joar Addam?" he suggested. "He might want to learn hunting."

"Oh yes!" said Lews Therin, recovering quickly. He stood up and straightened his rumpled coat. "See you all later, then."

He left the Dining Hall quickly, cloak swirling behind him as he went.


Joar Addam was bouncing excitedly on his heels as he followed Lews Therin to the stables. He wore a patch-covered cloak, with his harp and flute case strapped to his back. He watched as Lews Therin gave the da’shain a generous Tzoran gold mark before taking his black stallion’s reins from the Aiel’s hands.

He rode swiftly and gracefully, and extended out a gloved hand to help Joar up behind him. And then they were heading toward Paaran Disen’s western gate, moving against the majority of the crowd. Joar was busy looking up at the steely gray sky.

"It will be snowing soon." He commented as he wrapped his arms around Lews Therin’s torso.

"Yes. But not to worry." Lews Therin replied. "I’ve bought us some nice supplies and remember, we’re training to become Aes Sedai. Ah…well…are you sure it’s all right with you to be gone for two days? I mean, your lessons…"

"Eval Sedai looked annoyed, but he said yes." Joar answered. "He said I’m doing quite good, and that I deserved some rest."

Lews Therin sighed with relief. "Hold tight, then. HYA!"

He heeled Dovienya, and the stallion quickly launched into a gallop as they left Paaran Disen’s gate. Joar quickly tightened his grip around Lews Therin and buried his face into his back. The wind brought the news of coming snow. Lews Therin had in mind a variety of snow foxes and rabbits, all of which whose meat were excellent. People looked around at the two of them as they rushed down the road.

"Where will we go?" Joar asked, his voice muffled.

"To the Car’a’llein forest!" Lews Therin replied. "Good place for good game, that!"

He lashed with his reins, and Dovienya dashed faster, forcing Joar to hold on some more and bury his face deeper into Lews Therin’s back.


Lillen Moiral grunted as a da’shain bumped into her on her way out of Paaran Disen. She frowned deeply after the young woman wearing cadin’sor, vowing that when she was raised as a full Aes Sedai she will teach these Aiel a tough lesson on respect. These Aiel certainly needed some.

Wrapped in a thickly woven wool cloak and a good red scarf, she headed out to the road, ready when the snow should start to fall. She clutched her precious notebooks and a tin quill and ink case in her arms, and a bulging pack hung from her right shoulder, loaded with food enough for two days.

What was her reason for leaving Paaran Disen so suddenly after five whole years being cooped up in it? Simple. She wanted to see the world again, and continue her ’evasive’ research concerning linking. She also wanted to get away from wherever Mierin Eronaile was in. Even the thought of that girl made her want to snarl.

She walked on, her nose raised high in the air.


Joar was pale-faced as he tried to hold on with all his might as Dovienya dashed deeper into the woods in pursuit of two snow foxes. Lews Therin was an amazing (and recklessly dangerous) rider, controlling the over-enthusiastic stallion with only his legs now as he loaded his longbow with two arrows at once.

"Tsag!" Lews Therin spat vehemently. "These foxes are damn mule-headed!"

He fired, and Joar heard the arrows whizzing lethally before two death-cries sounded. Lews Therin gave a loud "Ha!" of triumph. But he did not dare look; he thought he was going to sick up if ever he dared open his eyes.

"Come on, Joar, it’s safe to open your eyes!" Lews Therin chuckled as he urged Dovienya forward so he could pick up their catch. "Just—!"

Things happened very fast. A heavily cloaked girl appeared out of nowhere, directly in Dovienya’s path. In one wild moment, the horse neighed in fright and reared up onto its hind legs, frisking wildly. Lews Therin did not hear his voice as he yelled in fright and shock. He felt Joar’s arms slip from his waist, and the latter gave a strangled yell that was quickly cut as if it had never existed. In a whirl of air and hair, and with a loud thud, Lews Therin found himself sprawled onto the ground, breathing hard as he blinked blood out of his eyes.

Not far from him was Joar Addam, glazed eyes staring at him blankly. Blood was flowing from where his head hit a rock on the road.

Lews Therin screamed again, and this time, his voice rang in his ears so badly his eardrums might have exploded.

Lillen shrieked as the black stallion leapt out of thin air, ready to drag her down. She quickly flung herself flat on the road, her arms covering her head. She shut her eyes, and somewhere she heard the stallion neighing in terror, accompanied by two shouts. The minutes dragged by until silence ensued, but Lillen did not dare move from the quivering ball that she was.

Another scream pierced the silence, this time horrified beyond reason. Stunned, she quickly recognized Lews Therin’s voice.

"JOAR! NO! LIVE, BURN YOU! LIVE! LIVE!"

The hairs at the back of her neck stood up so suddenly she gasped. Such great quantities of saidin! Ever so slowly she unfurled herself and stood up. Lews Therin was crouching with his back to her, and she could hear him weeping. He was still channeling forcefully, very near the lethal limit now. She paled when she saw blood on the ground, and the legs of someone else lying down on the dirt, the one being desperately Healed by Lews Therin.

She was never one who faced trouble directly. As quietly as possible she spun around, and started to sneak away.

Lews Therin, with tears coursing down his cheeks, suddenly whipped around. "OH NO YOU DON’T!"

Lillen shouted as he wrapped her with Air and lifted her twenty feet off the ground, and the rock-hard shield of Spirit that cut her connection to saidar came in so forcefully she grunted. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked apprehensively as Lews Therin stumbled to where she was, looking up at her with eyes that blazed in spite of being half-blinded by tears.

"YOU WILL HEAL HIM!" Lews Therin hollered, pointing a shaking finger at her. "YOU WILL HEAL HIM WITH ME, OR YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!"

His gloves and the sleeves of his velvet shirt were soaked with blood. She shifted her eyes to the other one on the ground and recognized the features of Joar Addam. By the way his eyes were fast glazing, she feared that they were too late no matter how they combined saidar and saidin. She returned her gaze to Lews Therin. He was breathing hard now, and he quivered with panic and fury. She knew better than to bandy words with him at the moment.

"L-let me down." She said weakly.

Lews Therin obeyed and removed the shield. She quickly reached for saidar as they both walked toward Joar. Lews Therin was quickly on his knees and took Joar’s right hand. Lillen knelt too and took the other. Somewhere in her head she felt something, something trying to get in. Her head swung toward Lews Therin, and he was looking unblinkingly at her.

He wants to link with me?! She thought, stunned.

Gingerly she reached out toward him, and the One Power combined through them, moving against and with each other. The sheer joy of life brought tears to her own eyes; made her gasp. Lews Therin was in no doubt the leader here, and he wove Spirit, Earth and Water, directed each to the damage at Joar’s head. The younger boy started convulsing, and then his mouth opened into a pained scream.

Lillen watched in horror as Joar tossed and thrashed, yelling in pain. She heard a distant and small crackle, and her stomach tightened into a knot as she realized what the sound was. Lews Therin’s face could have been ice for all that showed on it. She had to admit, he quite had a hand in Healing.

And then Lews Therin removed his hand, and in a flash their link dissolved into nothing. With a groan he fell flat on his back, eyes staring at the sky as he panted. Lillen felt like jelly; she swaggered but she managed to keep herself upright. Joar had stopped thrashing now, and he was lying peacefully in sleep, his breathing normal and eased. The two of them managed to save him!

"I can’t move." Lews Therin said.

With that, Lillen fell flat on the ground beside him. "Neither can I."

Wincing, Lews Therin tried to turn his head toward her, but his neck did not want to obey. "You…are the craziest woman in the whole wide Pit of Doom."

Lillen saved her acid-tongued reply for later. Her eyes were fast closing, and soon she was asleep.


Elan drummed his fingers on the rosewood table as he waited for the librarian to finish registering the books he meant to borrow. He hoped that the titles he took from the bookshelves weren’t so obvious, but then, what would a trainee like him want with books that told of sa’angreal making?

Selene, the overly suspicious librarian, peered up at him through her glasses. Elan smiled innocently, hoping that he didn’t look too guilty. She sniffed loudly and pushed the stack of eight books toward him.

"Return them after seven days. If not, you know what will happen to you."

"Yes, Aes Sedai."

He took the books into his arms and left the huge library. Selene’s threat was no joke; for over six years in being here in Paaran Disen, Elan heard the countless tales of the trainees and Aes Sedai alike who violated her laws on her precious books and scrolls. None of the tales sounded painless, at least.

Walking down the corridor, Elan ran through Lews Therin’s notes in his head. Callandor was to be a male sa’angreal, and Lews Therin was with ambitions for their project. To be one of the most powerful, perhaps only a step behind that of the newly made Choedan Kal. It was frightening yet exciting at the same time; Elan knew the countless risks they would have to face once they started to make it.

First was how to hide the quantities of saidin the four of them would use in the making. Second was how to keep the annoying pair of Barid Bel and Tel Janin from snooping around. And then there was the formulation of countless heaps of lies and stories to hide their mischief.

There were only two ends here when they would be discovered. Be honored and given third names—or be kicked out of Paaran Disen and severed, cut off from saidin until they were Healed. Well, that was if any Aes Sedai would Heal them, mind.

Severing was enough to drain the blood from Lews Therin and Duram Laddel’s faces, and the two were among the bravest people in the world. And they did not dare tell this to Joar Addam. The younger boy might panic and babble up things that they’d rather keep secret. Too many risks, but still, they were ready to proceed.

I must be crazy for agreeing with this plan in the first place, Elan Morin thought in disbelief. The King of Tzora’s High Councilor must keep him from trouble, not egg him straight to it. Light, but that’s what I’m doing! I can’t stand up to Lews Therin properly! Once he stares at me in that chilly manner, I—

He blinked as he came face to face with Miravelle. Squeaking, Elan quickly pivoted in his heels to run, but the princess got there first.

"Stay where you are, Elan Morin son of Fakir Morin Athendrel!"

Shutting his eyes, Elan froze on the spot. Miravelle glided to where he was, her silken skirts swishing as she went. Her hand grabbed his arm with an iron grip, and with that she dragged him to the nearest vacated room they could find and slammed the door. The room was a dusty storeroom, where heaps of broken armchairs and desks were kept. But it would do. Elan quickly felt Miravelle touch the female half of the True Source and ward the room against eavesdroppers.

"So, you have grown much like my brother." She said. Her voice was melodious and commanding; but then, she was Princess of Tzora and Aes Sedai combined. "I see you are not doing your duties well, Elan Morin. From what I have heard, Lews Therin’s mule-headedness has just increased since when he first set foot here. You were supposed to hinder that, am I right?"

"Yes, Princess." He replied through gritted teeth. He forced himself to meet her soulful dark eyes.

Miravelle gave a rich chuckle and tilted her head sideward, her dark curls bouncing. "The Crown Prince and his Shield must always be together. But once they both ascend to the Throne and Staff…well, that is another matter. Are you ready for the Staff, Elan Morin?"

Elan stiffened. "I fear I am not yet ready, Princess."

"Indeed you are not." Miravelle replied as she swept dust away from a chair with Air. She sat down on it gracefully, smoothing down her skirts. "Why is my brother avoiding me? He will not do that unless he is up to something. You, Elan Morin, well tell me what that something is right now."

Light, help me! Burn you, Lews Therin!

"The Prince does not always confide in me, Princess." He replied, trying so hard to keep his voice and face smooth. Very smooth. "All I know is that he went hunting now and will not be back within Paaran Disen’s walls for two days."

"You do not have his trust." Miravelle said with utter disgust.

Elan felt his hands clench into fists. I have ALL of his trust! It is YOU he can’t trust, for always pushing him into things he doesn’t want to do!

The silence between them stretched. And then Miravelle stood up, and the wards vanished. She frowned at him.

"The family of Morin has been serving us, the Royal Family, for generations." She said. "Your father and your father’s fathers will be highly disappointed with you if you do not manage to be raised to the Staff."

She left him. Elan took a very deep breath before gathering his books, which he placed on a dusty table earlier. He walked back to their dormitory with trembling knees. Somehow they had to push the princess away from Paaran Disen before they started to make Callandor. They just couldn’t afford to have her around when they begin. The new list of odds lengthened too much and too fast it made Elan’s head ache.

I just have to put a note here: You mentioned the Choedan Kal in your post, but they were not made yet. The Choedan Kal were constructed AFTER te Bore in a last-ditch effort to place a seal on the prison again.

The place where the access keys were being made was overrun by shadowspawn before they could be used, and so Lews Therin improvised and got the 100 most powerfull channelers together and Traveled to the blight. He layed waste to the armies there, and placed the seal on the Dark One's prison.

(and you all know the rest) :D

Yes, sir. I knew that. But it's my cousin who keeps the ideas and I'm just....

*cousin Elutheria waves whips*

Erm...well. I'll talk her out of her errors and see if I can tweak this stuff my way. ^_^

Lews Therin opened his eyes gingerly, and the first thing he saw was a glistening white roof. Every part of him felt like stuffed with lead. His limbs did not want to move. His nose caught the smell of a stew simmering in the cookpot, and he felt that he was snugly wrapped with blankets. His head was pillowed on some cloth.

He turned his head and saw Joar Addam sitting up, peering intently at the stew as he stirred it over the fire. He looked pale, and his head was wrapped with bandages. At the sight of him Lews Therin bolted upright.

"Joar! Are you all right?" he asked.

Joar smiled. "I am all right, and I thank you. When I woke I was worried when I found you unconscious. You’ve been out cold for since yesterday. It has started to snow."

Lews Therin looked around again. Lillen Moiral was lying not far from him, still fast asleep. She was also wrapped with blankets. He touched the walls and discovered it was ice. The three of them were staying in a shelter made of ice! He returned to Joar, who smiled shyly.

"I couldn’t find anything big enough for a tent." Joar answered, waving the ladle. "So I channeled and made this. Dovienya is staying in the other one I made for him. He’s quite well, but I fear he would starve soon if we don’t go back to Paaran Disen right away."

Lews Therin nodded absently. The snow came earlier than expected. As much as he wanted to avoid his sister, he knew he should return to the city. The forest was especially hostile in winter. He gave a start as Joar handed him a bowl full of stew and a wooden spoon.

"I’ve been hunting since you two were asleep." Joar continued. "Although I have to admit I used the Power. I am no good with bows and swords, much less a knife."

Lews Therin nodded as he ate. He realized how hungry he was; he kept asking for more, and Joar happily refilled his bowl for him. The other boy can cook, of that he was sure. Just as he was halfway through his eighth bowl and Joar finishing his second, Lillen started to stir. At first she was surprised to see herself in a house made of ice, but she quickly acquiesced. Soon she was eating too.

"What is your name?" Joar asked politely as he poured them some tea.

"Lillen Moiral." She answered stiffly. "Thank you for the food."

"She is the one who got your skull split open, Joar." Lews Therin sneered.

"I wouldn’t have, had you used your eyes to see the road!" Lillen snapped.

"Really? Well you do not have much sense in your head, crossing roads without so much as looking both ways!"

"I didn’t know men were supposed to scream like girls."

"Oh? I didn’t know women are nothing but slinking cowards who run away from responsibility!"

"You are da’tsang!"

"And you are kjasic!"

Joar shut his eyes. "ENOUGH!"

Lillen and Lews Therin both shut up, but the two of them swelled like angry bullfrogs. And the babble started again.

"You shut up, you worthless little boy—!" Lillen glowered

"Do not try to silence me!" Lews Therin said angrily

Reaching out for saidin, Joar quickly wove fist-sized gags of Air and stuffed it into their mouths. Their voices were cut off, and they did look ridiculous with their bulging eyes and gaping mouths. Joar threw back his head and laughed heartily, one hand slapping his thigh.

"The Shadow take me, but you two look stupid!" he cackled.

Spots of color bloomed on Lews Therin and Lillen’s cheeks. Deciding that they were shamed enough, Joar removed their gags. It worked quite well; they were still glaring at one another but they had at least given up on blathering. The method he used on them was one his mother implied when he was getting tad too noisy for her liking. It had always worked.

"Thank you both," Joar said as he kissed his right index and middle fingers, then touched it to his forehead, lips and heart. "I owe you two my life."

The color on their faces deepened some more. Lews Therin cleared his throat too pointedly and Lillen started looking around at the igloo, determined to keep her eyes from Joar’s face.

"Come here," said Lews Therin. "I need to make sure you’re okay."

He held Joar’s head between his hands and Delved. Joar shivered a little, but Lews Therin let go quickly. He was nodding in satisfaction as he removed the now-useless bandages from Joar’s head.

"We did a good job." He told Lillen.

"Of course we did." Lillen said with her nose in the air.

Joar shook his head in disbelief. Just a minute ago they were ready to snap each other’s head off. Now they were friendly with each other. They changed moods like a streith gown!


Elan tapped the side of his nose thoughtfully as he read Marishpa Etelle Codar’s account of sa’angreal making. Across him, sitting cross-legged on another bed, Duram Laddel was whistling softly as he copied notes from another book.

"Listen to this," Duram said. "’Sa’angreal making requires considerable strength in Earth’ Well, that won’t present too much trouble. We are all strong in Earth."

The tapping paused. "Joar Addam is more of Fire. I heard Eval Sedai say he has a potential to become one of the most powerful Spinners of Earthfire."

"Well, he can be a supporter in the process while you, Lews Therin and I mold Callandor." Duram suggested.

Silence ensued for a minute.

"I don’t know how Lews Therin manages to convince me into his pranks and masterpieces." Elan sniffed as he turned his page. "Remember when we were nine years old? He convinced me—no, brainwashed me to sneak into one of the King’s many orchards across the River Mol to steal plums! And I’m supposed to be his High Councilor when he becomes King!"

Duram chuckled. "What do you expect? He’s ta’veren!"

Sighing, Elan reached for his pen and started to take notes. "I suppose so. But—"

The door suddenly banged open and Mierin Eronaile entered, not caring that Elan and Duram wore nothing but shirtsleeves. The two boys yelped and quickly hid themselves beneath their blankets. Duram was red up to the tips of his closely cut hair. Elan’s eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets.

Smiling, Mierin strode easily into the room as if they were all fully-clothed. She tipped ten more books onto Lews Therin’s vacated bed.

"Light, woman!" Elan gasped. "Don’t you know how to knock?!"

Mierin tilted her head sideways. "Why bother? When you are tested to become full Aes Sedai, you come to the High Seat clad in the Light. After that, when the Hall of Servants call for councils, everyone must come clad in the Light. You are just touchy. Everyone will get to see all that anyway sooner or later."

The two went redder. Mierin laughed, her gently sloping shoulders shaking with mirth.

"You two should see your faces." She chuckled as she turned to the door. "You look like overripe plums."

The door closed behind her, just in time that Elan threw a book. The hardbound tome clunked oddly against the door before falling to the floor.


Sorom observed the two mounds of ice with great anticipation that tickled his taste buds. There were children in there, three of them, all looking very tasty and juicy. The People of the Snake have not tasted such rare and fresh meat for three generations. He licked his lips. The M’Hael will surely honor him beyond his brothers and sisters if he manages to take these delicacies to them.

But he had to be careful. These children had the Gift, and they could easily obliterate him and his people without even lifting a finger. The thought of the One Power made him snarl. Long ago these Aes Sedai cleared the thick woods that was now Paaran Disen, originally the Brood’s home. Chased them off with fire and balefire for their ’crimes’.

These three children would not only provide them with food, but with vengeance as well. He smiled some more.

Ilyena was sitting under a chora tree, snowflakes lodged in her sun-gold hair. She had an open book propped on her knees, and a saidar-made fireball hovering around her. It was still early morning, but Ilyena liked doing the basic exercises of using the One Power. Practice makes perfect, so they said. She looked around at the people milling by, all wrapped in elaborate furs, as she was. Shivering, she tugged at her cloak, the ermine furs digging to her neck.

A pair of muddy boots stopped before her, and she looked up. Barid Bel stared down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Ilyena’s eyes darted, and she saw some roses behind his back. Pretending to not have seen the flowers, she rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Do you want to freeze?" she said. "Why don’t you sit down?"

Bel sat down stiffly beside her, his eyes squirming around at the people. He unceremoniously thrust the roses at her. Red roses in full bloom, no doubt saidin-tended. When Bel learned that she liked red roses, the young man had unbelievably tried to tend her a garden of them, a task he failed if he did not use the Power. Bel was not born with a green thumb.

Ilyena took the flowers and sniffed them. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome." Bel answered—no, mumbled. "W-would you like to…"

"Yes?"

"Well…I was wondering if…a nighttime stroll…snowman…"

"What do you mean?"

"W-would you go out with—!"

A snowball appeared out of nowhere and slammed flat into Bel’s face with a squelch. Ilyena could not force down the guffaw that escaped her. Bel angrily stood up, looking for his attacker. Not far from them was Carlon Merne and Maybelle Sirach, both wrapped in coats, jeering and taunting.

"Hey, Bel! What happened to the Dung Pits?" Carlon yelled.

"Why do we still get stinky chamber pots?" Maybelle sneered.

Face red with anger, Bel channeled, and a hundred fist-sized snowballs materialized around him before zooming after the two. Soon Carlon and Maybelle were running as the snowballs pelted after them, followed by a very angry Bel shouting at the top of his lungs. Ilyena shook her golden head. She liked the roses, but she did not like the one who gave them.


Lews Therin yawned widely as he led the way down Quarry Road to Paaran Disen. He held Dovienya’s reins in his gloved right hand, while Joar and Lillen sat on his stallion’s back. Joar said that the three of them could ride together, but he refused. He loved riding, but he also liked to use his legs once in a while. Three dead rabbits hung on his shoulder.

"Lews Therin, please." Joar begged. "Why don’t you just get up here?"

"Joar, I like to walk today." He replied lazily. "If I didn’t want you on Dovienya, I should have pummeled you a long time ago and kicked your bottom down the road for all your worth. Just shut up and enjoy your ride. Right, Lillen?"

Lillen Moiral nodded absently. She was still immersed in her notebook, her hands moving as if she was drawing countless circles. Lews Therin shook his head. The night before, he secretly took Lillen’s notebook and read it, only to discover everything was written in a cipher known only to the girl. But as far as Lews Therin understood the diagrams, Lillen was doing a thesis on linking.

Humming, he led the horse onward, until a glint on the path caught his eye. Handing the reins to Joar, Lews Therin approached the glint, which turned out to be a good-sized ruby. His eyes widened as he scooped up the jewel from the road. He looked around.

"Lews Therin? What is it?" Joar asked as Dovienya pranced and shook his head.

"Burn me, look at this!" Lews Therin said excitedly, showing the gem to Joar. "Whoever would drop something like this?"

Joar took the gem and twirled it in his fingers. It was exquisitely beautifully cut. The ruby had a certain hypnotizing gleam in its depths, and the more he looked…

There was a loud thud as Lews Therin collapsed on the ground, asleep as if he had been cudgeled in the head. Strangely, Joar felt himself going sleepy too. His eyes were heavy…he did not hear Lillen’s shout of "Fool! THROW THAT AWAY!". He didn’t feel his fall from the saddle. He couldn’t see anything…

Lillen shrieked as Dovienya jumped nervously as Joar slumped beside Lews Therin on the road. Grabbing the abandoned reins, she tried to calm down the steed, but someone grabbed her from behind and wrestled her out of the saddle. She grunted as they fell to the ground, and she clawed for saidar, deftly weaving flows of Air. She channeled toward her invisible attacker, but to her surprise, the flows she weaved just vanished.

A hand holding a wet, thick woolen cloth clamped onto her mouth and nose. An overpowering pungent smell soon knocked her unconscious.


Sorom smiled in satisfaction as the girl stopped struggling in his arms. He removed the cloth soaked in forkroot from her face. She would not wake for hours, and when she does, the Gift would be useless for her. That would give him enough time to present these precious gifts to the M’Hael without disaster. There were a lot more forkroot back at home, and that should take care of their channeling.

He straightened up and shook his head. The stallion had run away. It would have made another beautiful gift for the M’Hael, but…he would like these children better. Sorom bent and scooped Lillen off the ground and hang her on his left shoulder like a doll. He bent to pick up Lews Therin next and hold him the crook of his right arm, the boy's fingers and boots scraping the ground. He walked to the nearby bush and dragged a well-hidden cart from it. He dumped the two into it, and then he went for Joar next. He too went into the cart like a doll.

Sorom was smiling very widely as he dragged the cart off the road, his feet retracing the familiar but forgotten paths that led to the Brood. These children might have the Gift, but they were too stupid, too innocent. Any Aes Sedai could have easily recognized the Sleeper he placed on the road, but the brown-haired boy who looked like a prince picked it up without even the slightest suspicion.

Cackling, Sorom twisted his head a bit to look at Lews Therin. Yes, he did look like a prince. The M’Hael always said royalty had fine meat, and that they were very juicy…

He shivered with anticipation. But the M’Hael always had the best cuts and parts of everything. The thought made him scowl. But he could always sneak an arm or a leg; it was his by right, he captured these ducklings anyway. The prospect of a luxurious dinner made his stomach growl hungrily. He licked his lips.


Jaric Mondoran was wincing as Miravelle Therin Aeromon tapped her slippered foot on the floor. The princess was demanding when her brother would return, and that it was past time he came back to Paaran Disen already. Jaric was also worried; Lews Therin only had two days permitted to leave, but it was now the third day and the guards had seen neither hair nor hide of him. And he was not just the only one missing. Zorelle was wailing for one of her students, and Eval was wringing his hands for Nira’s son.

"Well? Answer me!" Miravelle very nearly shouted. "WHERE IS LEWS THERIN?"

"My lady, I do not know." Jaric answered wearily. "But be assured that we will find your brother. Already the High Seat has ordered all dreamwalkers and star travelers to start a search for them."

Miravelle glowered. "If something happens to my brother, Tzora will cut off every single trading right Paaran Disen has! Mark my word!"

Jaric flinched. It was bad enough that Miravelle was willing to cut off his head, but to threaten even the trading rights? Light, but the woman was mad!

Two hours later, Jaric walked out of his own office massaging his head. Miravelle was simply impossible. The High Seat had better find those children at once.

Nyssa tilted her head to one side as she watched the three…children in the cage. They were all beautiful creatures, all glowing with the beauty of youth and vigor. She smiled at them, showing her pointed teeth. They backed away from her as one, their eyes wide. She threw back her red head and laughed heartily. She always enjoyed frightening her meal first before eating them. Only, these kids were for the M’Hael’s taste buds only.

Her mismatched green and blue eyes took in the kids’ features. The one at the front, shielding his other two companions, looked very devious and defiant with his long brown hair and equally dark eyes. He was very handsome, but at present his beautiful face was twisted into a scowl as he met Nyssa’s gaze. The other boy was also of dark hair and eyes, but his beauty less. He looked very nervous and was probably the youngest of them. The only girl was clutching the defiant boy’s arm, her eyes wide. Her pale and smooth throat kept bobbing as she swallowed unnecessarily.

"My lovelies," said Nyssa. "What are your names?"

"Lews Therin." The defiant one said. Then he jerked his head to the other boy. "And this is Joar. And this is Lillen."

A smile spread on Nyssa’s lips. They were obedient when it came to questions. The forkroot taught them quite a sharp lesson on obeisance. She knew their tongues still itched and their throats burned. Her grin got wider.

"Open the cage, Nyssa."

She turned and faced Merrick, who was pulling a small cart of fruits and dried meat behind him. Nyssa reached out for the lock and opened the cage. Merrick dumped the food inside and left. She re-locked the door with a sharp click.

"Eat, my lovelies. We don’t want you starving." She giggled.

The girl swallowed harder and looked dubiously at the dried meat. She clutched Lews Therin’s arm harder and shook her head weakly. "But…you’ve fed us already."

"They’re fattening us." The second boy said in disbelief. "The Light burn me, they’re treating us like pigs for a festival!"

"Touch nothing!" Lews Therin said sharply, his eyes fixed onto Nyssa’s mismatched ones.

"Eat, my lovelies. Or do you want another dose of forkroot down your throats?" Nyssa said quietly, dropping her coaxing tone. She flicked her hand and a foot-long knife appeared out of nowhere, ready to be used.

Three throats bobbed in perfect unison. It was Lews Therin who moved first, picking an apple with his long fingers. He poked it out of the cage’s bars. "Please peel it for me." He said.

Nyssa took the fruit and peeled it deftly before handing it back. Lews Therin took a bite and tried to chew. Then the boy called Joar reached for some nuts and started popping its shells. Only the girl Lillen did not move. But Nyssa fixed her with a warning glare and she squeaked and started stuffing her mouth with bananas.

"Good, my darlings. Soon you will be plump as a partridge, and ready for the cookpots."

Lillen paled and she sobbed, leaning her head onto Lews Therin’s arm. Joar awkwardly patted her head with a gloved hand. Nyssa smiled in satisfaction before stalking away.

"We will get out of here." said Lews Therin. "I will get you two out of here, or die trying. I promise."

Joar swallowed again. Gingerly, he searched his pockets, and his heart nearly leapt out of his throat with relief as he felt his fat man angreal waiting in his innermost pocket. He closed his hands into the little figurine and barely resisted the urge to draw saidin through it. His face worked with the effort.

"No, Joar!" Lillen said suddenly. "Didn’t you see what they did to Lews Therin when he tried to channel our way out of here?"

Lews Therin shuddered at the memory, his cheeks coloring. Upon waking he did try to kill all of their captors, only to discover they all had those strange foxhead ter’angreal necklaces. His flows all melted uselessly when they came in contact, and two of the men quickly dragged him from the hair and gave him a lesson he wouldn’t forget. He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.

"What will we do?" Joar asked. "We can’t end up in their stomachs!"

"Tsag" Lews Therin cursed as he punched their cage’s bars. "If only I can get one of those ter’angreal, then probably I can work out how they are made, and possibly, destroy them! The Light burn these kjasic brutes of a people!"

"I see your plan," Lillen agreed as she wetted her lips. "But…nobody will be stupid enough to believe us when we ask them to give us one of their necklaces because we think it’s cute."

Joar wanted to tear his hair and laugh hysterically at that moment. The Light help us indeed!



Elan Morin poked his spoon at the bowl of porridge on the table, but he was not really seeing the food. His dark eyes were boring a hole across the Dining Hall’s walls, and there were big dark shadows under his eyes. His usually sleek black hair was rumpled and strands of it stuck out at odd angles from his head. His velvet coat looked slept in.

"Come on, Elan." Duram yawned. "You won’t find Lews Therin by refusing to eat!"

But Elan didn’t seem to hear. Sighing, Duram shifted his gaze to Mierin. She too looked haggard; her beautiful face lacked the usual glow that surrounded it, and for the first time she looked ugly. Her eyes were very red, and her eyelids puffed up like corn kernels warmed over the fire.

They weren’t the only ones, though. The whole Dining Hall was eerily quiet as the trainees whispered about the fruitless search for Lews Therin, Joar Addam and Lillen Moiral. Paaran Disen’s dreamwalkers and star travelers had never yet failed to locate anything, but now…

A wheezing laughter pierced the tense silence, and Duram whipped around in his chair to see who it was. Tel Janin and Barid Bel were laughing deviously in their table. Bel even had his legs up near his plate. Duram frowned.

"Paaran Disen has never been this peaceful, Janin!" Bel announced loudly as he threw an apple into the air and caught it again. "Pray under the Light that we never have to cope with an airhead like Lews Therin! I hope he’s dead!"

Both Duram and Elan rose, rolling their sleeves. But Mierin got there first.

"THE LIGHT BURN YOU, YOU DESPICABLE LUMMOX!" she shrieked as she raised her right fist.

There was a loud crack as Mierin punched Bel’s face. The young man fell out of his chair and onto the floor, unconscious. Gasps echoed throughout the Dining Hall. Duram quickly had a hand around Mierin’s trembling shoulders.

"Easy, easy…it doesn’t pay to get violent…calm down, Mierin." He said soothingly.

He led her away, while Elan remained to stare down Tel Janin. The fat boy swallowed nervously. And then Elan turned on his heels and left silently.

Joar was sleeping fitfully that night, dreaming that somehow he, Lews Therin and Lillen had survived the clutches of the Brood and were back in Paaran Disen. He dreamt that he was with his mother, crying his heart out as he narrated their ordeal. Nira listened patiently, and to his great horror pulled off her face to reveal Nyssa underneath. He woke with a start, only to find that he was sweating very hard.

Joar lifted his head a few good inches from his aching arm. Huge bonfires illuminated the Brood's village, and there was a great deal of shouting and merriment into the air. The sound of drums and wooden flutes floated in the air, accompanied by an eerie song, and people were dancing as they leapt into the air. Every single one of them wore great feathered masks that hid their faces; masks that somehow resembled snakes.

"Lews Therin?" Joar whispered as he twisted around to poke at the nearest lump he could reach. "Lillen? Wake up!"

There was a grunt, and Lews Therin’s head came up. His hair was wildly against his welted face. "W-what? What?"

Joar swallowed. "Clear off sleep, Lews Therin. I have something very important to tell you. And I fear it isn’t good news."

For a few minutes there was silence in the cage as Lews Therin tried to shake off his languor. He patted down his wild hair, rubbed his eyes and yawned so wide it seemed his jaws creaked. Then he blinked up at Joar’s face. "Well…wait!"

Lews Therin straightened up and looked around at the village, wide-eyed. "What under the Pit of Doom is going on?"

"A festival, I’m afraid." Joar said quietly as Lews Therin tried to poke his head out of the bars. "A thanksgiving rite, from what I’ve heard. After their dancing…they’ll…they’ll want to eat, Lews Therin. I saw great knives being sharpened. And…and the cookpot, Lews Therin. I can’t remember seeing any cookpot that big."

There was a moment’s silence. And then…

"TSAG!" Lews Therin cursed as he swiveled around, crouching. "Wake Lillen up, Joar! We’ve no time to lose!"

Joar quickly proceeded to the second lump in the cage; the one curled up into a ball of woolens. He quickly shook Lillen awake. "Lillen! Lillen, wake up! We’re in great danger! Wake up!"

While Joar was rousing Lillen, Lews Therin wetted his lips as he touched the cage’s bars. Saidin pulsed out of the corner of his eye, very easily within his reach. This was probably the greatest risk he was going to take yet; only a sliver of the Power to wrench this cage apart silently, do it all without risking detection…if not…Lews Therin shut his eyes, refusing to think what would happen if he failed this. His hands clenched tightly around the bars. Saidin rushed into him, threatening to bear him away and drown him in its immensity. He struggled against it, forcing back all that power to hold on into a hair-thin thread of it.

He was vaguely aware of Lillen gasping when she saw what he was doing; he barely heard it as Joar shushed the girl to silence. He Delved, going one with the cage, familiarizing himself with its being, with every tiny detail of its making. He quickly found the key points, and clenching his jaws, used saidin to crush it into pulp.

The cage fell away around them like a leaf, and Joar quickly siezed saidin as well, using the same hair-thin flow of Air to muffle the sound of the bars’ fall. Crouching, Lews Therin signaled fiercely for them to follow him silently. Lillen was so pale she could have been a corpse.

They moved in the darkness, keeping low, making their way toward the edge of the village. Lews Therin squinted in the darkness, leading the other two. His breath came as a mist from his mouth. He nearly leapt out of his skin when somebody screamed behind them, alerting everyone of their escape.


Nyssa was flushed after she handed her twelfth cup of oosquai to Jaren. The older man smiled down at her and helped her up to join in the dancing. Already some eighty members of the Brood were circling around the fire, leaping into the air while singing the Song of Thanks with harsh voices. The stars glittered brigh