OOC: Please feel free to join! I don't have a set plot in mind, but I left many gaps for the filling.

Dragonmount loomed nearby, a towering spire of a mountain that pierced the heavens, a monument of legendary ages and the ages to come. In such a way, too, the White Tower commanded the land around it, the home of Aes Sedai, a symbol of power and prestige and years of history. Sunlight bleached the air until it was but a white tinged with blue, the clouds scant and silvery. The horse moved beneath her at a slow walk. She could feel its bony spine digging into her. She remained mounted only by a miracle, one hand tangled weakly in its thick mane, the other dangling, useless, at its sweat-darkened shoulder. The beast was tired, but it did not cease its plodding movement toward Tar Valon. She remained mounted, but some part of her wished that she had fallen miles since, left to rot in the road, in her overwhelming despair.
Her breath seeped into the horse’s neck, her cheek pressed into it, supported by it, and though her eyes were half-open she did not register the patternless land crawling beneath her and slipping behind her to the place she had fled an eternity ago.
Geralt...
Grief washed over her anew in a cold, desolate wave, relentless seas striking the shores and she, body heavy, gasping for air only to taste brine. She yearned for weeping, for some sign of lamentation with which to relieve herself of the pain in her chest and stomach, like a sinking stone ever burning its way down her throat and gut, but nothing came to deliver her. No tears. Nothing.
Voices travelled through the air, slow and sonorous, as if through water. They skirled around her in a faded rush, and the last thing Aranya, Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah, saw were the scuffed boots of Tower guards before she fell into a swift darkness.

The White Tower saw many things in the course of a day. Civilians came to petition Aes Sedai for intervention into their daily affairs, dignitaries came for the same reason, and ambassadors came from kings and queens who could not come themselves. It saw Warders practice and Accepted study and other things that Tower folk would consider completely normal; but one thing they did not see very often were injured Aes Sedai, and that was what it saw today.

The Gaidin made his way quickly down the hall, followed closely by an Aes Sedai of the Yellow, Marilyn Sedai. His golden eyes shone in the semi-darkness of the hall as the sun outside started to set; Marilyn was explaining the situation to him as they hurried along. "She was brought in earlier today by Tower Guards on patrol around Tar Valon," she explained, her hands tight on her skirts. Damon al'Morlan glanced down at her hands and smiled slightly.

"Obviously something about this bothers you, Marilyn, or you wouldn't have called me." It took a lot for the head of the infirmary to get flustered, and even then Marilyn was rarely flustered enough to show it. That she actually felt that it was worth involving the Shar'shae'en, Damon's squad of Warders, was a testiment to just how bad it must be. The blonde Aes Sedai nodded.

"She's was in bad shape when she came in, riding a horse that was in no better condition. The horse actually died in the yard when the Guards took her from it's back." She nodded sadly. "A good animal, to be sure." Then she shook her head ever so slightly, as if to get herself back on track. "So naturally we were worried about Healing her, but even when we did she didn't wake up right away. She slept on, as if she didn't really want to wake up. She tossed and turned in her sleep and kept on muttering a name." The Sister was silent for a moment, trying to remember. "Jer... Gera... Geralt. That was it. Geralt."

Damon frowned as they approached the infirmary. "And what does that name mean to you?"

Marilyn shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything to me, Damon Gaidin. I was hoping that you could speak to her and find out."

"So she's awake then?"

"She was, but she could have drifted off again. She seems very distant, as if her mind is elsewhere and wished her body was there as well."

Now, Damon sighed. He'd had that feeling before, when he'd lost Astara Blair, his first Aes Sedai and the woman he loved. Finally, he and Marilyn Sedai arrived at the infirmary door and entered, making their way through the large wing to the back wall, where a number of doors led to smaller rooms. There, patients who needed to be separated or wished to be could be housed away from prying eyes. Marilyn indicated a door on the far right, and Damon approached it. "Before I go in," he said, stopping with his hand on the knob, "What is her name? You haven't even told me that."

Marilyn nodded. "I'm sorry, Damon, its just..." She sighed. "Her name is Aranya. Aranya Di'Vakar Novaya."

Damon grinned. "Aranya would have sufficed, Marilyn." She rolled her eyes, and Damon entered the room.

It was a small but well-furnished room, with a wash basin on the sidetable, another small table in the corner, and a wooden chair situated next to the comfortable-looking bed, no doubt where the attending Yellow had been seated during Healing. Damon walked slowly over to the chair, adjusting his twin long swords so he could sit comfortably. He wore one on his left hip and one on his left shoulder, so he had grown accustomed to sitting with his left side facing slightly outward on whatever chair he might sit. His white shirt and black pants were nondescript enough, and he'd left his black cloak back in his room; after all, no one wanted to wake up and see a black-cloaked man standing over them!

The Wolfbrother sat down next to the bed, his elbow on his right knee, and smiled in a friendly way. "Good evening, Aranya Sedai," he said gently. "My name is Damon, and I'm here to help you." She watched him silently for a moment, and Damon chuckled. "You don't need to worry, Aes Sedai. Regardless of what they say about Wolfkin, I don't bite." He sat forward slightly, his hands clasp loosely between his knees. "I was told that you were in pretty bad shape when you were brought in. What happened to you?"

Eyes gleamed like burnished gold in the dimly lit room, but Aranya did not find their piercing stare discomforting. If not for her present condition, she would have enjoyed nothing more than peppering the man with questions about the nature of Wolfbrothers from a primary source--Aranya preferred the company of books over that of people, and for that many wondered why she chose the Blue over the Brown, and indeed a few Browns could be seen in her presence, politely requesting some ancient scroll or tome she had acquired, and with whom she would gladly share and discuss the topic at length. It seemed, sometimes, that the only joys she truly reveled in was the sharing of knowledge and the orchestrating of the life and deeds of another for her own strange satisfaction. Very little was known about Aranya Di’Vakar Novaya but that she was powerful as far as saidar was concerned, that she was Andoran yet looked Cairhienin, and that she had a a long history of meddling in the affairs of others as she saw fit--from kings and generals to peasants and fishermen, station meant naught to her. Her personal life, however, remained a mystery, and she preferred it that way. Even had this Damon approached her when she was in good health, she would have been reluctant to share personal information. But perhaps it was because of her current fragility that she felt the unfamiliar urge to spill out every dark secret that plagued her.

But where to begin? Her quest accompanied by--

Sharp pain seemed to flame in her stomach at the thought of her companion.

Geralt.

Tears pricked her eyes. Light, she would not cry in front of a stranger!

Breathing deeply to steady herself, Aranya started when she felt something on her bed. Damon’s hand was on the sheets, broad and comforting though he did not physically touch her. Respect for her space, yet close enough to lend support. In any other situation, Aranya would have smiled wryly and even now she appreciated his consideration.

“Don’t force yourself,” he said, words warmed by his burnished gaze.

Her hands clenched together from where they had been wringing the blanket at her hip, hands that had previously been laden with cuts and dripping with blood not her own. Voice roughened, she spoke, “My pouch.”

Damon cocked his head questioning in a particularly wolfish manner. Aranya made a small gesture with her right hand to the corner nearest him, the middle finger of which carried her Great Serpent ring. Turning, he carefully picked the black silk pouch up from his place, shifting the swords at his waist and shoulder with natural grace of a warrior, and proffered it to her. Hands trembling, she slowly opened the top bound by a deep blue strip of velvet and reached inside. In her grasp was revealed an age-worn scroll, tightly rolled. With great care, she unraveled it and spread the single sheet upon her lap.

Frowning, he leaned over and saw a diagram written in a dark ink that looked disturbingly like human blood. It was of an abnormal, organic seeming structure that flourished on the body of a man, winding its way across his naked form in a way that somehow seemed...wrong. The very shapes it created were form defying, repulsive to the eye.

“What is this?” Damon asked, his eyes wary and his brow furrowed.

“This,” Aranya breathed, “is a ter’angreal I have been tracking for the past three years. It is the reason for my travels, and the reason for my...maimed return.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise and he settled back into his chair, “That’s quite a long time. What does it do?”

“It is a parasite that attaches to a host and feeds off the host’s very essence, it’s life-force.”

“But why would anyone want such a thing?”

Her mouth pursed grimly to a thin line, “Power, Damon Wolfbrother, makes men do many irrational things.”

He nodded in understanding, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword without conscious thought.

“I found it,” she whispered, staring sightlessly at the document before her, “But...nothing comes without a price...”

Areala wandered slowly from the gardens that surrounded the White Tower into the city proper. As she passed the Tower guard Areala pulled her shawl about her shoulders unconsciously. It had been scarcely six months since she had been raised to the shawl and Areala could scarcely believe her fortune. The test to become Aes Sedai had not been an easy one and Areala found herself uncomfortable by the human failings the test had found within her. Nodding to the guards who watched over the entrance to the Tower courtyard Areala was forced to consider her position in the Tower. She had chosen the Blue Ajah but due to the fact that she had not attained the full measure of her powers was forced to stay in the Tower to ‘learn’ the appropriate mannerisms for a Blue. The only solace Areala found was her daily walks to the very gates of Tar Valon to stare wistfully at the wide world across the lace like bridges.

Areala loved watching the people she passed through the city of Tar Valon. Naturally the crowds parted before Areala like a stream around a rock but Areala was able to study the people she passed before they recognized her. Tar Valon bustled like no other city Areala had ever visited and the pulse of the city was something she loved to feel. Areala was awed by the city that she now called her home, the sheer beauty that it demonstrated drew the breathe of all who visited its white walls. Smiling slightly Areala eyed those that parted around her there bearing was one of pride and comfortable living. Tar Valon was the heart of the world and its citizens new their place in the world.

Adjusting her sky blue silk dress Areala slowed as she approached the large brass gates that faced the lace like bridges that spanned the great river Erinin. Areala’s eyes wandered up towards the tops of Tar Valon’s walls and her heart was filled with yearning for the cool evening breeze she would find. Smiling warmly at the young captain of the guard Luc, Areala headed up onto the walls to watch the river flow. The river Erinin meandered past the walls of Tar Valon a force of nature that curled around the buttresses of Tar Valon’s walls. Areala leaned against the power-enhanced walls and gazed longingly at the plains beyond the island of Tar Valon. Soon I will search the land for those that the light needs to hold its own against the dark.

A loud commotion sounded below and Areala turned away from the river towards to the bridge that led from the mainland. Below a woman dressed in worn blue clung precariously to the back of a clearly fatigued horse. Soldiers rushed forwards from the gateway towards the bedraggled horse but as the first soldier reached the woman she slipped free of the horse collapsing to the ground. Areala stared scarcely comprehending what was going in before her. A sudden gust of wind caused Areala’s long dark hair to whip free from its loose braid and billow across her face. Hastily trying to clear her sight Areala pushed her hair away from her face. Gazing down at the bridge below Areala watched as the young woman was rushed towards the tower. Turning to follow the progress of the guards through the crowds Areala caught a glimpse of her features and froze. That was an ageless face. Gathering her skirts Areala hastily walked back towards the stairs that would take her off the wall.

The guards at the foot of the stairs straightened as Areala passed and not a few eyed her with appreciation. Areala quashed her nervousness and assumed a frosty demeanor, gaze emotionless Areala stared back at the few soldiers who were admiring her. The men snapped back into rigid attention and Areala nodded to herself before heading back towards the Tower. Unfortunately the crowds had thickened and even Areala’s ageless face was not enough to get her quickly through the crowds. Exacerbated Areala paused in a small alley between a cloth merchants shop and a homely tavern to let the crowd swirl past intent on its actions. Eyes wandering Areala was attracted to the blurry image of herself in the cloth merchants glazed alley windows.

Standing at 5’6 Areala was not really a towering woman but it was her face that she knew drew the attention of many. Areala was blessed with skin the colour and texture of peaches and cream, her startling blue eyes nestled under finely arched eyebrows. Her face was perfectly symmetrical with rosebud lips and high cheekbones. Many had called her beautiful but her beauty hid the weakness that Areala feared would break her. How did I trick them into letting me be raised? How can I be Aes Sedai? Areala reached up to touch her face and was consciously reminded of the tight presence of the oaths across her being. Brushing her long wavy black hair back from her face Areala sighed before continuing onwards. She was Aes Sedai for better or worse, the unloved girl had become… Aes Sedai.

The sound of hawkers crying drew Areala back to the crowded street a few bold merchants glanced at her in interest. Assuming her most serene mask Areala walked back into the throng of the crowd ignoring the merchants. She continued on towards the Tower, she had to find out what was wrong with the other Aes Sedai.

*
As Areala approached the infirmary she finally realized that fine dust clung to her clothing a reminder of her day in the city. It had taken longer then Areala had been anticipating returning to the Tower. Especially after a child had fallen from a great height and required Areala’s ability with healing. Sighing slightly Areala continued her measured pace her eyes determinedly staying level. It had been six months since Areala had been raised and she was still barely used to looking people in the eye without curtseying. Areala was not weak in the power she had simply spent so long building the mask that was Areala the accepted. It was a learning curve to try and remove the mask and construct a more complex one. Areala the Aes Sedai was in a place of authority whilst simultaneously being resigned to a position of subservience to sisters stronger then her. It was a complex system and Areala was having difficulty adjusting to it.

As Areala stepped into the hallway leading into the private chambers she was confronted with Aes Sedai hierarchy. Marilyn Heely was a sister of the Yellow Ajah and she was significantly stronger then Areala. Areala would eventually pass Marilyn when she attained the majority of her strength but for now she needed to defer to Marilyn. Fortunately Marilyn was a kind woman the arrogance of most yellows only apparent when she was questioned. Areala had been taught to heal by Marilyn Sedai.

“Areala. How strange to see you in these chambers I was saddened when we lost your ability to another Ajah but it seems the Blue have use for you?”

Areala was surprised at the change in Marilyn she was more forceful then Areala remembered her to have been as a teacher and her comments bordered on improper.

“Yes Marilyn it has been an interesting change and I regret I don’t often get the time to heal as often as is needed.”

“A true shame child your talent in healing is one of natural finesse and that is very useful in the healing of the human body. Brute healing may harm more then heal. But listen to me teaching, how may I assist you?”

Areala glanced about and finally settled on the door that Marilyn appeared to have just come from.

“I was at the city gates when an Aes Sedai of the Blue was brought in and I am curious as to her health. I think I might speak to her to sate my curiosity before retiring for the evening.”

“Strange two visitors for Aranya Di'Vakar Novaya in one night and neither on official visits from the Tower. I can see no harm in that Areala but you may have to share her.”

Marilyn smiled and waved Areala past her. Areala paused for a moment to collect her thoughts and turned towards the now retreating back of Marilyn. Two visitors myself and…? Areala tried to remember anything about Aranya but nothing came to mind she was to new to the Ajah and as far as Areala could remember Aranya had not taught any lessons.

Straightening her shoulders from the slight slump they had assumed Areala walked to the wooden door. Knocking once she entered to find a poorly composed Aes Sedai gesturing at a worn piece of parchment in her lap. Eyes widening in surprise Areala searched the face of the wolfbrother who sat in the room’s only chair facing Aranya. Damon stared back with his piercing eyes and Areala resisted the temptation to wilt before the fierceness she saw there.

“Aranya I am Areala I wanted to see you where alright? I was on the walls today when you came in but was not able to get to your side to assess your injuries. I am glad to see you well and wanted to see if you needed anything?”

Areala stared blankly ahead Aranya was far stronger then Areala in saidar and as such Areala was bold to have spoken first. Schooling her face to serenity Areala tried not to let her eyes wandered about the chamber as she waited for a reply. Areala was not sure what she had intruded on but she sensed emotions were high. Silently Areala wished to be anywhere but where she was. Nervously Areala was conscious of the fact that she waited in the door waiting to be admitted like an Accepted. Unfortunately it was to late now for her to step forward and shut the door.

Aranya regarded the young woman before her. She had not yet acquired the ageless look, yet a blue-fringed shawl hung from her shoulders, lightly dusted as though she had just recently come indoors and not thought about making herself presentable. Newly raised, then. Very newly raised, by her hesitant demeanor and wandering eyes. But Aranya could sympathize, as she had found the transition difficult as well; all Aes Sedai did, much as they would deny it if asked.

Suddenly realizing that the document lay open on her lap, Aranya made to flip it over, but paused. Perhaps this young Blue and the Wolfbrother were exactly what she needed, if she played her cards correctly. Without a doubt, Aranya would be forced to depart soon, though she felt sick at the thought. All she wanted to do at that moment was tear apart the bed in which she lay with her hands and teeth, then shriek and sob into the shredded remains until the grief left her. She was not sure if it would ever leave her. What disgusted her more was that some part of her was already planning the next necessary measures to be taken. Light, had she no decency? No respect for the dead?

There would be time for mourning later. Later, once her task was complete.

Steeling herself, Aranya positioned her cool mask of serenity into its proper place, “Please come in, Areala. And close the door.”

The young Blue did as requested, yet almost seemed more nervous now.

“This is Damon,” Aranya motioned to the man before her, “He came to...calm me.”

He nodded respectfully as his name was mentioned. She had been tempted to add his patronym and title, but thought better of it. The eyes-and-ears of her Ajah was extensive, and though she had been occupied by her quest she did not completely ignore the goings on of the Tower while she was away. Sometimes, being perceived as less knowledgeable was an advantage.

“I thank you for your concern,” she began, leaning back into her pillow, “You have some talent in Healing, I presume?”

Areala bobbed her head as though she were restraining herself from a curtsy, “Yes.”

“And yet you chose the Blue,” Aranya paused for a moment and tilted her head before asking, “Have you found your Cause?”

“I will fortify the Light against the Shadow in whatever way I can,” she answered stoutly and without a tremour.

Aranya withheld a smile, “Ambitious of you.”

A blush crept into the woman’s cheeks. Oh, very new indeed. Good, she was more malleable this way and her conviction was pure, unadulterated. The Blacks could not have corrupted her yet. And they were searching. Searching for her. For the ter’angreal. She would have to move quickly.

“Perhaps I can help you narrow that passion of yours,” Aranya continued, making her voice soft and pleasant. Light, but it was difficult. Those screams of anguish threatened to bubble up and consume her alongside the swirling fear. She tightened her resolve, her large eyes glinting like dark steel.

Later...

She motioned Areala forward, and the young Blue acquiesced, moving forward to stand beside Damon.

“You offered assistance, Areala, and I will take it. And you, Damon,” she swung her hard gaze upon him, “You asked for my story. I will give it to you, but only if you give me your word that what I say will not spread to any person outside of this room. Only then, will I continue and you may decide if you wish to see the tale finished. For it is far from over.”

Areala barely registered the fact that she did not pause to consider closing the door. Even though Areala understood the previously unknown Aes Sedai hierarchy demanded it of her it still felt a little strange. After all she was Aes Sedai Accepted no more. Silently she cursed herself for such thoughts knowing from the look in Aranya’s eyes that her face had betrayed her unsure mind. How do they do it? Hide their emotions to the world? Do they feel? Areala knew they had to feel she had seen the compassion of yellow sisters amongst others but the fear she was inadequate persisted. Areala glanced at Damon as she was directed to being careful to maintain what little serenity remained. Areala wanted to shuffle her feet as she watched Aranya’s face as the other woman spoke. In comparison Areala felt inadequate

The next few questions made Areala realize why she was still in the Tower. Aranya had something going on in her life but somehow she gave away nothing whilst still projecting calm command. Areala was surprised at how simple she felt. How had she joined the Ajah of meddlers and schemers and expected to survive? Because the Light saw fight to grant me access to saidar. Areala realized that her time in the Tower now is what would test her. Her ability set her apart from other human beings and that meant she could compel their respect if not earn it. It was amongst Aes Sedai that she needed to learn how to be a better Aes Sedai that was why she felt so weak she had no practice now was a time to learn.

“Perhaps I can help you narrow that passion of yours,” Aranya motioned Areala forward and Areala found herself eager to obey. It was a time to learn and Aranya was her better. Settling beside Damon Areala cursed her sloppy appearance travel dust was not a refining feature.

“You offered assistance, Areala, and I will take it. And you, Damon,” she swung her hard gaze upon him, “You asked for my story. I will give it to you, but only if you give me your word that what I say will not spread to any person outside of this room. Only then, will I continue and you may decide if you wish to see the tale finished. For it is far from over.”

Areala could feel the tension in the room suddenly increase as Aranya’s words hung in the small chamber. Areala glanced at Damon and was surprised to see a face that would make an Aes Sedai proud. Areala sensed that Aranya did have something to teach her and it was time to get involved in the world. The thought caused a large amount of excitement for Areala she was desperate to be involved. Areala barely registered that she was still expected to be under the thumb of the Blue Ajah. The thought was meaningless opportunity had presented itself.

“Aranya, I fear that the words you wish to speak may not be the ones I have desired to hear but I will give you my oath,”

Areala glanced at Damon once before locking her eyes onto Aranya’s eyes.

“By my life and hope of salvation and rebirth I do promise to hold your story close to my heart. Know by the oaths we share that my word is true.”

Areala slowly breathed in and out to calm her beating heart, she knew she was not tar’veren but something momentous had happened. Areala knew that she was committed to something before she knew the facts but by the way Aranya had spoken before she had the opportunity to help the light and that was worth the risk.

Damon frowned at the drawing that Aranya had proffered. The ter'angreal it showed was something else, something... abominable. If her description of it was accurate, if it did indeed suck the life-force out of the user, it was something that never needed to see the light of day. It's not exactly a high-fashion accessory.

After the other Aes Sedai, Areala, had shown up, Damon sat back and let the two Sisters discuss this matter between themselves; after all, he had been asked to help, but in his experience it was always better to let Aes Sedai talk things out between themselves before interjecting your own opinions. He had been around Aes Sedai long enough, and Blue Ajah long enough, to know that whatever had happened to Aranya Sedai, she was already moving past it to the next stage of her plan. He smiled to himself. If Jenisi taught me one thing, it was that the Blues can be very single minded in their pursuit of what they set their minds to.

As they spoke, he found his mind pulled back to the ter'angreal. Damon had seen his fair share of angreal before, but none that actually attached to someone and became parasitic. What kind of power would be great enough to sacrifice your own life to wield? It would have to be something extremely powerful. A weapon? The Wolfbrother doubted it. Sometimes the most powerful objects weren't weapons.

Finally Aranya turned back to Damon, a stern look on her face. "And you, Damon," she said. "You asked for my story. I will give it to you, but only if you give me your word that what I say will not spread to any person outside of this room. Only then, will I continue and you may decide if you wish to see the tale finished. For it is far from over." Araela glanced over at Damon before speaking first.

“Aranya, I fear that the words you wish to speak may not be the ones I have desired to hear but I will give you my oath,” She took a breath before continuing. “By my life and hope of salvation and rebirth I do promise to hold your story close to my heart. Know by the oaths we share that my word is true." Aranya watched the younger Sister for a moment before nodding slightly and turning back to Damon, her eyes cool. Not cold, but not expectant either; she kept them completely neutral. Damon smiled slightly.

"Unfortunately, I'm not so bold with words as Araela, but I can tell you that I'm used to working with secrets, Aranya Sedai. I worked directly for the First Selector for a number of years." He leaned forward. "But I can give you my word as a Gaidin, as the leader of the Shar'shae'en, and as a Wolfbrother, that whatever you say will go no further than this room. I can also assure you that I can be very useful in most situations." He smiled and nodded. "I hope that's good enough for you."

The voices within the room abruptly ceased at the sound of his knuckles rapping the door in the manner of children abruptly freezing when they realized that their parents got wind of their disobedience. So, there are more than one person...This certainly complicates things. “Aranya Sedai of the Blue Ajah, my name is Shade. I bear a message for you. May I enter? It will only take a while.”

Thanks to his saidin enhanced ears, Shade could hear the distinct sounds of papers being kept away filtering through the closed door. What else could have caused that soft but sharp crinkling noise of paper being rolled up? The assassin stepped back to leave space between the door and him moments before it was pushed open from the inside. To the Asha’man’s surprise, the lean figure imposing himself in the doorway was the wolfwarder. Shade knew that he would bump into the man sooner or later but certainly not at such an inopportune time.

In those few seconds, sharp golden orb took in his appearance, travelling from his long heron marked sword sheathed by his left side to his green eyes and dark hair touching the nape of his neck and above his ears. He slid aside lightly with the grace of one who practiced the way of the weapon. The assassin noted that his footwork left no room for any exploitation on his part, should he suddenly decide to attack. The wall provided a partial barrier to his weaves, requiring a greater degree of accuracy to hit the man. Furthermore, Shade was also within easy reach if al’Moran chose to take him on. Contrary to what most channelers believe, weaving a shield was not instantaneous and to do so when in the process of being attack bordered on suicidal. Moreover, his advantage in height (6.0ft) over al’Moran (5 ft 10) allowed him to spot the two women in the room. Although one was in bed, her indeterminable age was a sure sign that she was Aes Sedai. The blue shawl on the other meant the same thing as well. Still, it was technically possible to take them out with the judicious use of several weaves of air from the back. That, however, was not the objective of his mission.

He took all this in a few glances as he strode past the wolfbrother in an apparent show of indifference. Shade did not glance behind. He could not afford showing his discomfort even though all his senses screamed to find cover. The light was above and in front of him which meant that he would not be able to see al’Moran’s shadow. The sound of footsteps behind him accompanied by the sound of a door closing indicated that the wolfbrother was possibly directly behind him since the assassin had not strayed from his straight path but not so closed that he would have felt threatened enough to clip the man with his sheath, sack or no sack dangling behind his right shoulder. The lack of goose bumps on his skin intrigued him. Did they assume that had the situation under control even without the One Power?


“I am Aranya. What is it?” The one on the bed asked. Well, the assassin did not expect her to reveal the names of her companions either. How would it benefit her?

“Thank you for seeing me, Aranya Sedai.” Shade began from his position several paces away from the bed. He was careful to keep his unoccupied hand away from his the warder cloak and in sight of the two sisters as they watched him with what they probably thought were neutral expressions. The slight recognition in Aranya’s eyes was nothing significant; it meant that she had either seen him or heard of him before especially with all the, in the words of his Aes Sedai, outrageous and audacious deeds that he perpetrated. The other Aes Sedai’s body language hinted that she was in the presence of some untamed beast. It was strange to see the presence of the other blue sister. It could mean that the Blue Ajah was already aware of the situation. But the only other person who had some inkling of this was Araine and she only knew that he was looking for Aranya in the White Tower. Turning back to Aranya, the assassin added, “Please know that this is message is of a rather delicate nature.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“A...” Shade paused, thinking of the best way to put it across to her obliquely. “..goods dispute with a merchant.” Aranya looked as if she had seen the Dark One himself. “Will you like to do it now?” He asked, the pleasant tone in his voice changing to the more businesslike one. He resisted the urge to scratch the itch on his skin as Aranya made an enclosing gesture before letting her hands fall.

“We are safe from prying ears. You can deliver your message now.” She said briskly, implicitly saying that her companions could be trusted with the contents of his delivery. Well, who was he to argue with her about the type of people she trusted?

“You had two noble friends who were dying to see you.” He loosened the drawstrings of his sack and tossed out two round spheres onto the ground. “Fortunately, they met with me and so were able to go on ahead.” The other Aes Sedai looked slightly sick at the heads of the man and the woman. He had seen worse and he had wrapped the heads in containers of air so as to contain the blood, so what could she complain about? She had better get use to such things if she ever decided to embark on a so-called noble cause.

“There is also a letter for someone called ‘C’.” Shade broke the silence that followed. He handed her the parchment. “Aranya di’Vakar Novaya will return to the White Tower. Bring the scroll.” The meaning was clear. Had Shade not intercepted the message thanks to the business deal he made with a client, it was likely that the blue sister would have to face an attempt on her life and bring the scroll of whatever it was to this darkfriend.

“How do you know Lord Rajakan?” Aranya asked at last. The tension was thick enough that Shade could have easily sliced it with the dagger hidden in his right sleeve.

There was no chance that he could say that the Black Tower was behind the man’s assassination. It would affect the reputation of the male channelers although the Light only knew why that should be his concern. “I am unable to divulge this. Suffice to say that this darkfriend attracted my attention and I dealt with him. However, there seems to be a loose end that needs to be tied. I intend to do so, if you allow me to help.”