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Fading Lights (Outside the City); the death of a good soul
Topic Started: Apr 10 2005, 10:49 PM (246 Views)
Edeleas al'Kuar
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Asha'man al'Dieb Cha, Lost during the War
Edeleas poked tentatively at his rapidly cooling kielbasa, his mind not really in the food. He could not believe his luck; he had escaped Tar Valon nearly undetected. Now here he was, a new Asha'man, not a day older after performing the Hundred Weaves, the new Dragon Pin shimmering in his satchel. He reached up and fingered the Pin; he could not quite believe that he earned it exactly five years after the Sword Pin. He gave a laugh, which he hesitantly turned into a cough. He looked around the tavern nervously; doubtless Tar Valon already knew he had vanished in the middle of the night, and spies were surely out to look for him. Not that they'd recognize him, anyway.

Using the special trick he'd invented, something Illusion, he changed the color of his hair, turning golden blonde into ebony black. He wore a simple brown cloak, faded bottle green breeches, a red shirt and a creamy yellow undershirt within. A relatively large satchel hung on his back, containing his Asha'man black and a couple of spares, and a few extra loaves of bread he managed to sneak away from the kitchens as he made his way through Tar Valon. He did not risk weaving a gateway not until he was a good mile from the city, and now he was in Aringill, a good distance from Tar Valon, but still dangerously close in his opinion.

He sighed, and returned to his sausage, cutting himself a piece with his knife and then popping it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, allowing the spicy and smoked taste to permeate into his throat. It was still early, not three chimes in the afternoon, and the tavern was still quite empty. But Edeleas knew better. Asha'man Sidivin had once showed him a beggar in the city, and he was shocked when the older man told him the beggar was one of their most valuable persons. You never knew you were dealing with spies until they made you drink forkroot and had you packed in a box and then shipped back to the Black Tower. Edeleas remembered the face of the M'Hael, Zekial al'Kith, and he swallowed hard. He surely would not want the man to catch him - he would get more than a flaying, he was sure of that. A newly raised Asha'man running away! He shook his head dejectedly.

Somehow the spicy kielbasa did not amuse him anymore, and Edeleas waved for a serving girl and asked for a lovely pot of mint tea. The girl gave him the tea, although she lingered some more, pretending to wipe the other tables clean. But Edeleas wasn't to be deceived; she kept shooting him hopeful glances, but he ignored her, keeping his gaze into his tea. Later the girl gave up, and went away looking rather hurt, and slammed her tray sullenly in the counter, nearly making him jump. But he did not have any eye for other women except for Mika, whom he left behind in Tar Valon.

Thank the Light she understood how much this all means to me, Edeleas smiled. I thought she would not agree, but...thank the Light. He remembered how he told it to her, and it seemed like an Age away. They were both very serious, he going hoarse for all the talking he had done, and she nodding serenely, much like a true Aes Sedai. He'd asked her if she did not want him to go (Mika had a shrewd knowledge of his capabality of breaking Tower laws), but she smiled sweetly and took his hands, telling him to proceed. She even helped him by sneaking off bread and dried fruit, many of which he still had in his bulging pack. He promised her he'd be back soon enough, and she believed him, sealing the promise with a kiss. He loved her very much, and she too, loved him greatly.

Slowly, Edeleas finished off the tea in the pot, and as he rose to leave and pay his for meal, the sulky serving girl was back and thrust a sealed letter under his nose. "This is for you," she said with a very pointed sniff. Edeleas looked at her, confused, but he thanked her and took the letter. He sat back down again, and she went away, clearly mumbling about men who did not even know where to look. Again, he ignored her, his now gray eyes staring onto the seal, a stalk of rice. He wondered who would write to him, unless... bloody idiot, open the letter and you'll know!

He thumbed the red seal and unfolded the thick yellow paper. A loopy and elegant handwriting greeted him. I do not quite believe my eyes when I saw you. You have improved so much. I am here, at the corner of the inn. -Your friend, Ezrael. Edeleas felt his heart skip a beat. He raised his head slowly, and looked around the inn. His eyes widened at the sight of the man who helped him ten years ago, still wearing black, but no more Sword or Dragon Pin. Ezrael was there, staring right into his illusion, seeing nothing but himself. Edeleas swallowed, and the man smiled, beckoning him to approach.
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Asha'man Shadowsworn
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Rakim entered The Blue Rose, his mind buzzing with what he had discussed with Eithne Fayre a week ago in Tar Valon. He told her about the boy, all that she needed to know, but she only seemed half-convinced of his potentials. Rakim felt a pang of annoyance; the boy was strong, and a fine Dreadlord he would make, he was sure. Eithne agreed with him in this, about turning the foolish child, as the Shadow needed to muster out for the impending war. It was not such a difficult issue if the boy wanted to acknowledge the Great Lord or not; once the Master had touched his soul, he could not do anything else but to obey - or die.

Borrowing some of the Friends in the Black Tower, the latest Rakim knew of the boy was that he was only days away from his raising into the Dragon. And days away from embracing what he deserves, Rakim thought excitedly. Soon the boy would go out to find him, and he would approach, of course. A simple excuse pertaining to Fate and whatever lame reasons like their destinies would be a piece of cake. The boy would believe him. He was too young into the Dragon to know painful lessons about trust, and by the time he learned them, well, he was already done with weeping from his errors. Rakim cackled quietly at the thought. Most of the people he'd turned were like that; they mewed like idiots in the end, not realizing that once you were Touched, it was a lifetime of service...or death.

He sat down on a vacant table placed in a slightly obscure corner of the inn and ordered for a mug of ale. Rakim knew he had better plan; soon he would meet the boy. He had no plans of keeping Edeleas waiting, searching for him far and wide, slowly exhausting his resources in what would seem like a futile attempt. He, Rakim, would approach, snare him with words and coax him, and then what followed next was a swift stab of a sword, delivered deep but not enough to kill, and when Edeleas awoke, it would be too late. Far too late to defend and channel himself to safety. He would die first, and then be reborn into the Shadow's glory. That was it.

The ale arrived, but it was annoyingly bitter. But Rakim had to put up with it; he was having wine tonight anyway. He had come to Andor on a business with a noble Friend of the Dark. He had matters to settle, and if things turned sourly, he could always get rid of the midget, and still have his wine. It had always been easy work. Sipping his drink, Rakim looked around the inn. Not many people yet, as it was still early. The owner of the inn was busy chattering with her girls behind the counter, and there were only ten customers present. Most were farmers, and then there was a boy with black hair and gray eyes... Rakim stared. The boy was eating kielbasa, taking his time like a goat nibbling grass. But that was not what attracted his attention.

The boy...was distorted in his vision. At once Rakim knew this was an Asha'man, trying to look ordinary. He squinted, and he saw through the simple weave. The boy's hair was blonde, not black. And then the young man turned his head to accept his tea, and Rakim gasped. That face! His boy! Edeleas! The boy who would closely rival a Chosen in sheer strength! Here! Quickly, he started to plan, thoughts whizzing through his brain like a rushing film. He called for another girl and asked for sealing wax, pen and ink, and some paper. As she went away to fetch them, Rakim stared hard at the back of Edeleas' head.

"So he is Asha'man..." Rakim whispered in awe. Just ten short years of training! Truly, the boy was exceptional! His plans took an excited leap, now. He had no time to waste; surely Zekieal and Rialt were already hell bent on finding Edeleas. He had to be...changed...as soon as was possible. Eithne might be surprised, but let her be shocked to death for all Rakim cared. The girl returned, and he wrote a note that he told her to pass on to the boy. She obeyed, although she did pout exceedingly. Rakim watched as Edeleas received his letter. "Look behind you..."

Sure enough Edeleas turned, doubt on his face. But it did not take him long to spot Rakim. The older man smiled and inclined his head in a gesture of invitation. The boy hesitated.
All NPC Shadowsworn of the Asha'man path, soldiers, Dedicated and Asha'man
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Edeleas al'Kuar
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Asha'man al'Dieb Cha, Lost during the War
Edeleas was stunned as he saw the man he had been searching and hoping for in ten long years. He very nearly looked around to see if there were any ta'veren in sight, but he felt stupid, so he stopped himself from doing the thing. He stood up slowly and joined Ezrael in the table, gaping silently at his unchanged face. The hair was certainly inches shorter from what Edeleas remembered, but ten years could always bring about change, like what it did to him. For a moment they stared at one another in complete quiet...

And then Edeleas bowed. "I-I want to t-thank you! Thank you for saving my life! I owe you everything I am today! Thank you!" the words practically tumbled out of his mouth before he could help himself. He looked up, and saw Ezrael was shaking his head gently. Kindness sparkled from his eyes; the kindness that Edeleas would not forget as long as he lived. "Tell me...what are you doing here? I was hoping I would not find you in years!"

The man raised a pacifying hand, and Edeleas shut up. "Our destinies are mapped together, it seemed. I was on my way to visit the land that once belonged to my family, and I thought I would stop here and rest myself. I did not think it possible I could see you too, boy. So, Asha'man, I see!" Edeleas glowed with pride at the comment, and how he itched to tell him about those ten years. But he knew he should watch what he said; spies could abound anywhere...he was never sure...

"Tell me about your years in the Black Tower," Ezrael said. "I have missed that place terribly. Please," he said, and then gestured for a fresh pot of tea for Edeleas. As they waited for the tea to arrive, Edeleas took a very deep breath and then looked up to meet Ezrael's eyes. He launched into a story of what had happened to him, everything, about his ten years in the Black Tower, training, honing his Talents and making friends. He sensed Ezrael take on saidin, but he was thinking the man was not up to something.

He talked and talked, until he did not even feel Compulsion hit him. Words stopped flowing from his mouth, and he stared at Ezrael, eager to please him, oh yes, do nothing but just to please him. A smile curled on the man's mouth. The tea arrived, but was ignored.
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Asha'man Shadowsworn
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Rakim smiled as he hit the boy with Compulsion. Then he quickly stopped babbling and waited for instructions. He wanted to laugh; you would have thought the boy had learned something decent in the ten years he'd spent in the Black Tower. The fool did sense him touch saidin, but he did not even so much as to suspect what he was going to do, eager he was to divulge his pathetic and worthless life story. Rakim stood up, and Edeleas looked up at him like a horribly spoiled puppy, waiting for orders. Rakim snorted in disgust; the boy was strong, but his brains would barely fill an eggcup.

"Stand up, do not say anything, and come with me." Rakim instructed as he left coins on the table for his ale and the undrank tea. "Come and follow. Do nothing else, do you understand?"

They went out of the Rose unnoticed, and Rakim led them through Aringill, snaking through alleys and streets, blending into the crowd, until they were out of the city itself, making their way toward the abandoned fields some kilometers outside the walls. Rakim walked in a steady pace, unheeding, and the boy followed him, stumbling and falling over many times but ignoring the little cuts and snags on his legs and hands. Rakim laughed. The boy was unbelievably stupid for an Asha'man. He assumed Edeleas climbed his way to rank by sheer luck and Talent, he was sure of that now. But his stupidity would be erased, to be replaced with caution, bloodlust and a taste for horror.

They came to a slightly wooded area, and Rakim drew the dagger from his belt, and relinquished Compulsion on the boy. Edeleas blinked and spluttered, confused to see where he was. Rakim's smile got diabolic.
All NPC Shadowsworn of the Asha'man path, soldiers, Dedicated and Asha'man
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Edeleas al'Kuar
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Asha'man al'Dieb Cha, Lost during the War
Edeleas felt excruciating headache the moment the Compulsion left him. He stared at his surroundings, getting horribly confused by the second. He had been in an inn a moment before, but now, the sun was nearly finished setting in the western horizon, casting a deep red hue on the sky. He was not in Aringill anymore. He quickly found Ezrael, standing before him, holding a huge dagger. In a flash, Edeleas knew what mess he got himself into, and he made to touch the male half of the True Source, but a rock hard wall separated him from saidin. His eyes bulged.

"You are horribly idiotic, my boy." Rakim said. "Very stupid - I myself would not think you worthy for the Dragon Pin yet. Had I been there at your raising, I would have kicked you out and returned you to Soldier rank for fifty years. You have no intelligence at all, no, I am afraid, not an ounce."

Anger and panic welled up in Edeleas, and he slammed futilely against the Shield again. Then he did what seemed reasonable at the moment - he broke into a run and tried to get away. But searing pain erupted from his back, followed by another one, and another one. A horrible scream escaped his lips, but no one would hear him here. In horror he felt blood flowing out of him rapidly through three gaping holes at his back, and he fell face forward onto the grass, spluttering and bristling with disbelief. Blood stained the green grass.

Mika! Oh Light, Mika! I want to see you before I die! His strength was leaving him in a pace he could not imagine. There was a crunching of soles on the ground, and Ezrael - the man he'd believed in and trusted - loomed above him, suddenly imposing because of his height. His dagger was stained red Light, my blood! My blood!, and he lifted it to his lips and licked the blood away and swallowed it with relish. Edeleas could not believe it. Why? Why had I been deceived like this? Mika! Oh Light, Mika, I love you! Mika!

Ezrael started to speak, but Edeleas could no longer hear him. Everything was swallowed in blackness, where he floated aimlessly, crying for Mika, and for his betrayal.
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The boy's blood was sweet. No doubt the Fades would have their way with him first before turning him. Fades were known for their voracious appetite for women, but they also laid their hands on men if they were pretty enough. But Edeleas was cursed with a pretty face, and the Fades would be interested in him. Horribly interested. Rakim shuddered in spite of himself. He licked off the remaining blood from his dagger before returning it back to its sheath by his belt. He nudged the boy with his right foot.

Edeleas was still alive. Good. It would have been pity if he was killed by only three stab wounds. Rakim bent and swept the boy into his arms, his blood dripping to the ground. Afterward he wove a gateway that opened to Thakan'dar, forge of Shayol Ghul, where the ringing sound of metals clanging against one another and fumes hissing malevolently forever permeated under the pitch-dark sky that shrouded the peak of the Great Lord's prison. Ezrael stepped through and closed his gateway. Even the crack of the rock under his boots was ominous.

He was greeted by three Fades, who turned their eyeless heads toward his burden. Rakim felt his insides squirm, but fought down the feeling. "I have a present for the Great Lord," he announced. "One that could very well be used for his victory. The boy is powerful." The tallest of the Fades glided forward and extended a grisly finger that it ran down Edeleas' cheek. The other two seemed to quiver. Rakim swallowed. Hard.

"Then bring him in," the Fade spoke in a hiss. "Much will the Great Lord give you for bringing another piece to his board." But saying so the Fade did not take his eyeless gaze from Edeleas. Rakim knew he should say something. "Please, the boy is wounded. He needs to be tended to first," he said firmly.

"Of course," the Fade muttered. "And then, afterward..." the creature's two comrades laughed, a spine-chilling laugh that was enough to freeze the marrow solid. For a moment Rakim felt pity for the boy he carried.


Saidin raged within Rakim, filling him to bursting, but he had an angreal ready just in case they needed more of the Power. And then he felt Eithne Fayre reaching out to him, and he slipped in easily into the link she created, a circle of full and powerful Dreadlords all filled with the One Power. Rakim looked around; every one of them wore cloaks of black and equally dark veils that hid their faces. They could only see each other's eyes. And then he shifted his gaze to the floor, where the unconscious boy was lying on his side. An excited smile lit Rakim's face beneath his veil.

"Begin!" someone ordered, and he knew it was Melise. The thirteen Fades joined the circle, their eyeless heads turned toward the unconscious Edeleas on the floor. Eithne had full control of the link although it was Melise who voiced out the order. "Prepare weave! Commence!"

And so with Eithne's lead, they directed the sinister combination of all the threads of the One Power toward Edeleas. But their weave was also accompanied with dark tendrils, each one extending from a Fade, and there was also a fourteenth one, which looked like it came from the roof, but Rakim knew where it came from. The tendrils combined with both saidin and saidar, all into one corrupted form of bonding. It crashed into Edeleas.

The boy was jerked back into consciousness, his eyes wide, and his voice filled the chamber in a loud scream of pain. His cries bounced of the walls, but it was useless. He would grow quiet later on. They all become silent in the end, when the Great Lord had a firm grip on their souls. Screaming and jerking were normal here. Rakim watched as the weave lifted the boy to the air as he writhed and twisted, still screaming, trying to fight it all off. But it was futile, of course. Resist all you want, but the Great Lord always won in the end.

"Shift!" Melise roared.

Rakim tensed as all the male in the circle came forward and strenghtened the saidin they used. Pain licked his insides, and he knew he could go no further. But the boy was strong! Edeleas resisted, fighting, and sooner or later he would die if he resumed all this. Rakim couldn't afford that to happen. Never. Melise's voice sounded again. "Saidar, reinforce!" And the females intensified their weave too. The Fades exchanged amused smiles as the boy's screams got louder and louder.

"Fool!" the voice of Luteriel growled. "But he is stubborn as a mule!"

Rakim wanted to speak, but could not. And then the fourteenth dark tendril reared high and attacked again, much like a stab, and all the other tendrils writhed madly. The screams were cut like butter stabbed with a hot knife. The boy slammed down onto the floor with a loud crash. "Release the One Power!" Melise ordered, and the link dissolved, and all of them stood panting, feeling quite empty after letting go such quantities of saidin and saidar.

"It is complete." This time it was Eithne who spoke, and there was savage triumph in her voice.

Rakim stared, but what he saw sent chills down his spine. Edeleas was lying on the cold stone floors, eyes open and staring, while he seemed dead, not moving for even an inch. But those piercing green eyes were fixed onto him, he was sure, boring into his skull and looking into his soul. And then Edeleas' finger twitched, but nothing else moved. The gaze was there, firm and intense. It had the promise of revenge, and Rakim's death.
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