The blizzard was slowing, now just a steady flow of flakes drifting to their inevitable place among their fallen brethren, No longer the sheet of white and cold that had been so prevalent when Atlan had begun his trek to the Cutters. The last vestige of the winter snow now gave off the false sense of serenity that gentle snow was want to do. But before Atlan's piercing wolf grey eyes and seething glare lay the 'fog' that had come in behind the snow. Peripherally Atlan could see the web of golden white light playing chaos throughout the churning mass of smoke and..what ever else made up the fog. Like a spider web, the pattern lay awaiting it's prey, but Atlan was not used to being the Fly.

"What is it you see, dear boy, that gives one such as you pause?" Came a kind mothering voice from behind Atlan. The flash of fear echoed Atlan's inner flash of outrage but both were quelled almost before they started. She still believed he would turn on her like a rabid dog, Atlan smirked a bit at that. The fact that he would be something worse then an animal but for Olbaid Sestra Sedai did not escape the Asha'man at all."The same lights and web I saw on my run toward the Cutter camp, like it is waiting for me." Atlan answered her, curtly. The other personality laying curled in a ball in the back of Atlan's head did not seem displeased at this announcement, no, instead it seemed to prick up and sniff around like a hound on the hunt for a fox.

"Will that be an issue?" Captain Chiang asked watching both the Asha'man and the Aes Sedai with almost concealed trepidation. Daryl stood beside the Captain and surprisingly glared at Olbaid and gave Atlan a sympathetic look."It will not be allowed to be an issue Captain." Atlan growled back eying Daryl."Right, like we have a chance when this fog almost turned Atlan bloody Dellence into a shadowspawn." Caleb said as he walked up, adjusting the spear he had traded his bow and arrows for as it lay resting on his shoulder. Caleb met Atlan's eyes as that comment finished and actually blushed."Sorry, sir." Caleb said stepping to Daryl's side. Atlan eyed the spear then turned back to the Captain."So you understand the plan?" Atlan asked him outright.

"Our best archers in the center, long spears to keep any creatures as far back for the archers as they can, spear head formation making as straight a path as possible to the Mill." The Captain replied."I've added a swords man for every spearman just in case." Atlan nodded, noticing the determination on the Lead Cutters face, and glanced back at the men in red cloaks taking up position behind him. He saw fear, saw hesitation, but no Cutter had opted to stay behind or run to the Tower on a pretense to warn or retrieve reinforcements. Marcus and Lucas were trapped in Muttonsleigh, as was Arutha, Amalia, Ben and the rest. Atlan hoped that this determined bunch would survive let alone reach the ones trapped in the Mill. They all understood that time was as much an issue as was the creatures standing between themselves and their fellows.

But a parchment in the hands of Olbaid Sedai reminded Atlan that they needed to prepare for more then just a rescue."Make ready, I have to speak with my....Aes Sedai....for a moment." Atlan said with a nod to the three men who stood beside him. Olbaid looked up from what she studied as Atlan caught her elbow and guided her away."Yes Atlan?" The Aes Sedai asked with not but curiosity traversing the new bond in place between them."That paper, you said that it seems to add to our troubles?" Atlan asked trying to sound polite through gritted teeth. Olbaid eyed him for a moment and then stuffed the paper into a pocket under her shawl."It will matter very little if we do not reach the others." She retorted with her infuriating serenity still in place."If we make our way to the Mill and it looks lost we may have to divert. If we do it would help if I knew were to divert to.." Atlan growled back. Olbaid smiled, though the knot of her in the back of Atlan's head tingled with some strong yet muffled emotion."I do not yet know." She said in a whisper.

Atlan stared into Olbaid's eyes. She Bonded him as he had fallen to whatever corruption lay buried within the fog, she had saved at least a few of the Cutters lives in doing so, and yet he still felt violated. Taking a deep breath Atlan focused his fury and his self perceived vulnerability into a circle of fire in his head. Those emotions and all the rest fed that circle of flame until all were consumed by it. It was called the Oneness, the Void, and Atlan had been taught it early in life by his father while he trained for earning the title of Blademaster. He felt Saidin clearly as he opened his eyes after his breath was released. He could see the individual snow flakes as if they slowed for him, he could hear the breathing of every Cutter as they made ready to march very possibly to their ends. Looking at Olbaid Atlan could see passed the calm surface to the wrinkles and human fraility below that, he saw her jump as she looked into his eyes.

He felt her inside him, as determined as he, but trying hard not to hurt him with letting him know how disgusted and afraid to be near him she was.

He perceived that she also held a bond with another. This other was angry, upset, frothing at the new presence invading.

He felt her and she knew it. Their eyes stayed glued for many moments before with a smile directed more toward herself she relented."I believe it may be some kind of portalstone. I believe that is what is portrayed on this scratching." Atlan, without emotion, understood. Amalia had found the location, finding her alive was not only a need out of just loyalty now."It is time then." Atlan said and turned away. He saw her shiver as he headed back to the head of the formation, through the bond her knew it not to be because of the weather. Captain Chiang began to bellow orders as Atlan systematically checked his gear. The heron-marked blade slid out of his sheath with a sound only such a deed can make. Sunlight glittered of the naked blade, grey eyes looking back at the fog, the blade was a part of him, hesitation was melted in a fictional circle of flame inside his mind.

Silence fell, the Cutters were waiting.

"Keep up." Atlan said and he became the point of the spear. They started off at a trot then began to jog closer and closer into the fog. Somewhere behind him Olbaid Sedai concentrated on running, on keeping up. Before him the pattern sensed him and twisted to meet him. The fog seemed to surge to meet them as the first light hit Atlan as he returned to were the pattern lay damaged. Caressing him the glowing thread of the pattern made contact but did not consume him. In his minds eye he saw the Builder, Tel'wansho, as he stood proud before the volunteer's, as they all thought they would be heroes of the light. But then the fog was breached and the pattern came crashing down on him again, strangling him.

A faltered step, a knee buckling...It howled at the rip in it's reality...it saw the girl looking on in shock as she dropped what had ripped open it's prison...the girl made to scream as it charged..Olbaid beside him suddenly and the vision fading as she helped him regain his feet. The Bond lay heavy with something not of this world, at least not any longer, as Atlan felt inside that Olbaid now shared the burden of what was befalling Atlan. Atlan saw dawning understanding in her eyes, and budding respect."I know..." Atlan said as he stood fully.."Keep up.." Turning Atlan began to run again as he felt the weight from before bearing down on him from being Ta'veren. But somehow, unexplainably, it was not unbearable while it was somehow shared by the bond between himself and Olbaid.

Down the hill over looking Muttonsleigh the Cutters traveled. Before them was the ghost town, the Mill in sight. Looking down from above Atlan could see the black shadows assaulting two sides of the structure that housed his friends. He did not watch long, he could not afford to. Making good time the Cutters made their way down the hill and started down the main road toward the Mill. Discipline ruled as they approached the knot of the creatures that charged wave after wave at the Mill. Many would feel the urge to run ahead, to attack the crowd of twisted, perverted soldiers in a rush to save those that they knew were inside fighting for their very lives. But to succeed the formation must hold. But soon enough the Cutters reached the mass of creatures at the back of the attack, Atlan as the point of the spear. Throwing his hand out to the side Atlan lashed out with tendrils of air. Ripping as much of the nearest roof off as he could he threw his arm forward then down as if dragging the splintered wood and tiles of the roof across his path.

A large chunk of the roof in fact followed that path, crushing and knocking aside the creatures before the Asha'man, Most did not get back up...

"Use whatever you can to kill Olbaid Sedai, the rest of you, do not stop till nothing moves." Atlan ordered and then closed with the nearest creature with Arc of the Moon and never even stop his forward movement to acknowledge that he had taken off the creatures head. He was his blade and his blade was unstoppable. Before him the hungry eyes of the creatures turned to look at him, at this food that dared become a predator! Olbaid was throwing things at them even as the creatures turned and charged the charging Cutters, arrows streaked out from behind Atlan to bury deep into the bodies and limbs of the creatures. The waves of creatures turned from the Mill then and came hard to crash into Atlan and the Cutters, without a word they took the brunt of the attack gladly. They refused to pause on there path to the Mill.

Always moving forward Atlan became nothing more then the tool that allowed his heron-marked blade to take an arm off or gut a creature who jumped toward them with abandon before it could crash down upon Caleb as he pulled his spear out of yet another dead creature. The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain flowing into The Falcon Stoops to set up the next creature into a perfectly executed Hummingbird Kisses the Honeyrose. The blood, black and too thick to be human, splattered Atlan from head to toe but he did not notice. Between him and his goal these creatures stood so their end was already at hand. So forward came Atlan as the creatures who managed to avoid or survive arrows and debris missiles from Olbaid met spears and Atlan's determination. Like a true spear the formation of Cutters cut through the hungering crowd before them.

Some of the creatures who had already breached the Mill came streaming out then as others on the fringe of the path the Cutters swathed turned and ran to the sound of a powerful howl. Flickering on the edge of the void Atlan realized that the creatures were being called back to somewhere else, being led. There was an Alpha somewhere, one of those dire things Atlan could not really fully remember from one of his pattern induced fever dreams about the prison these creatures had ripped out of. The River Undercuts the Bank nearly cut a charging creature in half. Atlan barely noticed yelling he pointed toward the escaping creatures."Archers kill the ones fleeing! Cut as many down as you can! We cannot let them escape Muttonsleigh! Spears with me!" Atlan doubled his efforts as the archers turned their arrows into the backs of the fleeing creatures. As Tower of Morning cut into yet another beast Marcus and Lucas and Arutha could be seen attacking the backs of the creatures pooling out of the Mill."Forward!" Atlan barked and the Cutters with spears surged forward mowing down creatures as they went. Soon the creatures lay dead, those that had not managed to flee. Eye to eye with Marcus Atlan nodded, Marcus nodded back.

"Captain!" The Cutters said as one, saluting the Wolfbrother and panting after this hard earned victory. Atlan looked back at them and turned and entered the Mill, his time leading the Cutters over just like that. On the edge of the void Atlan realized that while a few had been wounded he had not seen a dead Cutter when he had glanced back. But he did not get a chance to look back and confirm if any had, breathing heavily Atlan's eyes fixated on the form laying bloodied on the floor before him."Oh no..Maihgread." Olbaid said as she walked up behind Atlan. Ghita Sedai looked up and Atlan understood that the shallow breathing he saw would likely not last long. Turning away Atlan saw that Amalia was staring at him."Bloody from head to toe.."Came Amalia's tired but relieved voice.." I thought I told you not to fight as many of these creatures as you could." A smile started, but something in Atlan's eyes melted it away.

"Not all the creatures are dead. Some were called away by something." Atlan explained as Olbaid Sedai walked over and took Maihgread Sedai's hand, joined by Ben. Lucas caught what he said, but also caught Atlan's intentions."We can hunt it later Atlan. We need you here for now." The blond haired soldier said curtly."Go help Marcus congratulate the Cutters Lucas, they deserve it. Were I go from here is not your concern." Atlan shot back. Lucas eyed him up and down."You mean were you throw your life away is none of my concern." Lucas said, eying were Maihgread Sedai lay dying."You can barely stand, have you even noticed the wounds that cover you Boy! Some of that blood is red! By the Creator Boy your not responsible for every living man and woman here!" Atlan barked out a sharp laugh and the void shattered that very moment. Pain seared his side and Atlan grunted and put a hand to were a claw had split the skin along his ribs."But I am...ta'veren.." Atlan spit out blood at the word."Everything binds toward me..."

Amalia and Lucas had no words. Lucas tried to speak, even opened his mouth, then gave up and walked outside to were Marcus, Arutha and the Cutters were setting up defenses. Amalia stayed though, eying him without saying anything. But Atlan could not find a way to say anything he wanted to, he just looked away unable to meet Amalia's eyes. Ghita walked up to Atlan then and put her hands on the sides of his head, Ataln grabbed her wrist and twisted. Ghita hissed in pain."I need to delve to heal you Atlan.."She gasped out. Atlan eyed her warily before releasing his grip. Ghita began to delve and heal as she went when her eyes went wide and she glanced in shock at Olbaid. Stunned she still managed to close her eyes and soon Atlan felt his many wounds begin to knit and heal.

When she was done she handed Atlan a chunk of cheese and some bread. Amalia was watching her, noticing she could not look at Atlan. When Ghita walked away Amalia looked at Atlan and whispered to him."What was that?" She asked Atlan. Not looking at Amalia Atlan sighed."Ask Olbaid, but remember that we have bigger wrongs to right." Looking into Amalia's eyes Atlan silently begged her to let it wait. Turning away Atlan walked away while munching on the cheese and bread. Outside the snow had stopped all together and many of the Cutters were bandaged and getting up to man the defenses. Atlan walked up toward Lucas as he stood talking with Captain Chiang."I apologize...today has not been a good day for me but I should have been more....rational about things."Atlan said to Lucas. Lucas eyed him but now he had a weird concern in his eyes."I think I understand a little better now Atlan."Lucas said fighting not to glance at Chiang beside him. Looking around he found the same look in a lot of the Cutters faces. Even Marcus as he walked up looked...concerned.

"We can pressure her to give up the Bond Atlan."Marcus said with no preamble. Atlan closed his eyes, sighed, and bit on some cheese.

The last one attacking her died peppered with arrows and beheaded. Gancing around, Amalia realized the red-coated Cutters were everywhere. With a relief so intense it almost buckled her knees she gave the weapons a last shake to get rid of the blood and let them float back towards her.

As soon as her fingers closed around the hilts, she released the Source. For once, giving up Saidar hardly felt like a loss, for though the world grew more dim, it also meant the line of fire across her left arm lost some of its ferociousness.

Ghita knelt beside Maighread; the light of Saidar still shone around her and Elisette, indicating they were still linked. Olbaid was talking to Elisette. Atlan stood among the Cutters, so covered in red blood that she could have taken him for one of them. As he turned, their eyes met.

"Bloody from head to toe.. I thought I told you not to fight as many of these creatures as you could," Amalia said, not quite able to keep the tiredness out of her voice. Tired or not, the longer she looked at Atlan, the clearer she perceived that something was wrong. She had seen him after fights before, but he looked as he had when he had left the mill. Haunted.

"Not all the creatures are dead. Some were called away by something." His voice was hard. As she listened to the interplay between him and Lucas, Amalia reached a conclusion. It was not over yet. They had won against the attack and the fog was dispelling, but it was not over.

Suppressing a sigh, Amalia went to Ghita. The Yellow looked up and then raised a hand for Healing.
"How is she?"
"Not good," Ghita replied with a frown. Amalia felt the wound closing, the pain disappearing, but no loss of strength. Ghita had used the New Healing.

"I can Heal her, but restoring her ability to channel in her age..." Ghita`s voice trailed off and she shrugged.
"I don`t dare trying it now. Maybe we can do something at the Tower, but definitely not here and now."

Amalia nodded and stood up after squeezing the White`s hand. There was nothing she could do here. Ghita followed her gaze to Atlan; then the Yellow got up and went to him. Somewhat surprised Amalia watched the scene unfolding between them.

Atlan`s reaction was as unusual as his whole behaviour, but Ghita... what had the Yellow sensed?
"What was that?" She asked Atlan once the Yellow was gone. Not even looking at her Atlan sighed, at once tired and wary.
"Ask Olbaid, but remember that we have bigger wrongs to right."

Amalia`s eyes narrowed slightly. That reply could only have one meaning. Olbaid had bonded him. Without asking. Anger surged up inside her and she fought it down. She could not afford an outbreak of temper now. How could Olbaid dare bonding Atlan? How could she dare bonding any man without his consent?

She took a deep breath. Surely Olbaid had had a reason. Come to think of it, Atlan`s suggestion had its merits. Olbaid was kneeling at the side of one of the dead creatures, apparently studying it. Amalia went to her and knelt down beside her.

"Do I guess rightly, sister, that you bonded Atlan?" Olbaid looked up and for a fleeting moment, surprise showed on her face, as if she had not expected an interruption.
"Well, yes. It was necessary."
"Necessary?"
"He lost... how can I explain it? His connection to this world, his identity." Olbaid waved her hand vaguely. "He almost attacked us."
"So you bonded him without his consent." Amalia`s voice was absolutely flat.

“Oh no”, Olbaid gasped. With small hands she picked up the snow-stiff hem of her skirts and crossed the floor of the mill. “Maihgread…”.

Her last word came out in a whisper as she sank to her knees beside the fallen Aes Sedai. The last time she had seen Maihgread the woman was as vital as anyone her age had a right to be; now the pale face and the blood on the floor told the tale. She was arranged as comfortably as she could be; her head propped up on someone’s rolled cloak, one of Ben’s old blankets laid over her for warmth, but there was something terrible in Maihgread’s eyes.

She looked at Olbaid with an understanding that brought a painful lump into the Brown’s throat. Maihgread managed a weak smile and nodded to the Cutters, “you made quite the entrance. Very timely.”
Olbaid smiled back at her and reached out to smooth a lock of the White’s hair back into place. “Not soon enough, I think.”

“Nonsense”, Maihgread retorted, “all this… is a result of a decision I made, you had nothing to do with it.”

Olbaid’s eyes were sad, and she sighed. “Of course. You’re right”

Ben had moved up silently and now knelt opposite Olbaid. They exchanged a bleak look and then Maihgread turned to the Warder. “There you are, I was worried about you.”

Ben frowned and took her left hand, enclosing it within his own. “Don’t worry about me Aes Sedai, I seem to have all the luck tonight.”

Maihgread looked at the man meaningfully, but then turned her head back to face Olbaid.
“Do you have what you need to know? Can you tell us what has happened to Muttonsleigh?”

Olbaid’s mouth tightened, and one hand sought the folded piece of paper nesting within her cloak. “I know what they are Maihgread, and I know where the come from, and how they came here, but I do not know what sustains them. They should have been dead for three thousand years and yet…”

“If you know that much Olbaid, then you also have your answer, I think.” Maihgread coughed, and Ben winced as he saw the red staining her lips. “Go and look over this problem again, be methodical, but don’t be long; I have something I want to give you.” Olbaid blinked. “Go on then,” Maihgread managed a smile, “Ben will keep me company until you come back….”


That was how Olbaid found herself examining another of the creatures. Men, she reminded herself, they were once men. Soldiers of the Army of the Light, who once fought the Shadow in the War of Power. That much had been proven by the sigils they bore and by what she had seen after Bonding Atlan. The drawing that Atlan had brought her, and risked so much in doing, had told her how and where these creatures entered their world. Somewhere within this town there was a portalstone, and it had been put to use many ages ago. This creature, this man, had been caught on the other side of that portal, waiting for centuries to pass before freedom finally came.

This poor, tortured creature bore the same, stiff, colourless mane of hair as the others. Long, ragged fingernails, saucer like eyes, and skin that looked like it had been tanned in some noxious brine greeted her careful examination. With a girding breath she opened herself to Saidar and allowed her mind to flow into a pattern of intense concentration: probe, retract, probe, retract, probe.

She found what she was looking for in the opening of the creature’s left ear. An invisible, writhing rivulet of the One Power; she almost jumped when she found it. Calmly, she attempted to sever the weave, but found that her effort was turned aside as easily as a shield would turn aside a feather. With a frown, Olbaid altered her probe of Air and Spirit, and replaced the Air with Fire. She didn’t attack the weave this time, merely caressed it, feeling it as her fingers might trace a rope in the dark. The entirety of the weave felt solid, impenetrable, but parts of it, strands of it were familiar to her. A thread of Fire here, two threads of Water there, a thicker strand of Spirit… Changing her focus she went to the parts she didn’t recognize and redoubled her efforts. They were like gaps in the weave, gaps of nothing but gaps so solid seeming that they must be made of something…

And then it struck her: Saidin.

Olbaid sat up, “Ahh, so that’s it…”

Suddenly, a voice beside her brought her out of her concentration. "Do I guess rightly, sister, that you bonded Atlan?"

She looked around, surprised, and saw Amalia beside her. The Green looked… indignant.

"Well, yes," she replied, "it was necessary."

"Necessary?"

Despite distant feelings of irritation at having her concentration interrupted in such a manner, and for something she’d considered a secondary concern, Olbaid smiled for Amalia. "He lost... how can I explain it? His connection to this world, his identity." She waved her hand vaguely. "He almost attacked us."

"So you bonded him without his consent." Amalia`s voice was absolutely flat.

Realizing that Amalia’s concern was insistent, and perhaps more relevant than she would at first admit, she sighed and stood from her place before the creature. She looked over to where Maihgread lay, just for a moment, and longed to pour out everything she’d just discovered to her.

“I did, Amalia Sedai.”

The Green might have been expecting a more elaborate defence of her actions, but there was no sign of it on Amalia's face. Whatever was at issue here for her though, Olbaid had no time to vet it out now. “We shall resolve the issue later, of course, to everyone’s satisfaction. For now the circumstances dictate we keep to the task at hand, do you agree?” Amalia frowned, and Olbaid smiled. “Good. Would you please tell Master Dellence that I need to speak to him…”

Amalia’s lips thinned, and Olbaid instantly regretted the tone she’d taken, it wasn’t her way to be so direct. When the other woman had gone, she turned and looked over at Maihgread again, I’ll be with you soon Sister, be strong…



“Olbaid.”

She looked around at the sound of Atlan’s voice and found the young Kandori looming over her; suppressed violence in every twitch of his facial muscles. If she were to describe him to a friend volcanic might be the word that she used. For he was; a rumbling, fumarole of a man, who struggled to keep a seal on the boiling emotions within. This much she had sensed through the Bond, and when the opportunity to see more had presented itself she had turned away.

Ignoring his decision to forgo the customary ‘Sedai’, Olbaid painted a smile and said, “I would like to apologize for Bonding you Atlan Dellence.”

He blinked, “wha…?” It seemed this was not what he was expecting her to say.

“It was not a fair thing to do, nor the right thing, but it had to be done.” Her smile warmed; she was feeling more herself now. “I think you understand that. Matters of necessity seem to be your daily bread…”

He nodded, reluctantly.

“Good,” she continued, “then you will also understand that you and I need to use this Bond until we are through this peril, or we are dead.”

“I don’t understand what you mean Aes Sedai.”

She reached up and put a hand to his arm. Atlan flinched as he sensed the small weave she used to assess his wounds and Olbaid could feel his hackles rising through the Bond. But he relaxed somewhat when he realized she meant no harm. Then, cautiously, Olbaid allowed him to look deeper. She removed all the barriers she had customarily placed between herself and the men she had Bonded and allowed him to see everything. Atlan’s eyes grew wide, but she endured until he was sure that it was clear that she was never anything more than she seemed, and that his own well being was, at least, one of her primary interests. She was vulnerable, and it chafed, but she hid nothing because this was necessary, and then, when she was sure that she had achieved her purpose she closed the window she had opened. Not abruptly, like shutters banging closed, but softly; drapes being slowly drawn.

Atlan regarded her with a frown. “Why did you do that?”

“Because,” she said, her cheeks gone red, “you need to trust me, if we are going to do what we must do”.

“Oh?” he said, the frown deepening.

“Yes, Atlan. Because you must do the same thing for me when the time comes.”

“Never,” he spat, an ingrained reaction. “Why would I?”

She sighed, “I have no interest in the things you wish to keep from me, but our task is plain and it requires us to work very, very closely.” At his silence, she continued. “The beings we have encountered here are not of the world as we know it. You have some idea of this, I think. They were men born in the Age of Legends, soldiers of a calibre beyond my guess, and they were bound in a place to serve a need. Something went wrong though, and they have remained imprisoned in that place ever since, curdling, going mad within themselves until they became monsters. And now we are the ones who will release them from this agony.”

He was following her, checking the facts of her story against what he had seen that night. She continued, “they were bound by nothing stranger than the One Power, but, like many other works of that age, the binding was done with both Saidin and Saidar. It no mystery why your weaves and mine had no effect upon them: we were both foiled by the other half of the True Source.”

And now we must bring those halves together to undo the binding and release these poor creatures from lives that should have ended three thousand years ago. We must find the portal and shut it for good.” She drew out the crumpled, stained drawing Amalia had done and held it up for him.

Atlan nodded, calm and thoughtful. When he looked at her she smiled again and said, “Atlan, I will give this Bond to whomever you choose, but you and I must achieve this one thing first.”

Olbaid waited for his agreement, but after a few moments there was no response. Activity swirled around them in the mill; Cutters repairing and improving the defenses, and Aes Sedai murmuring together in a corner. She longed to be back at Maihgread’s side.

“First,” he said, “we have to get to the portal, and that will take fighting.” Olbaid’s eyes brightened. “If you will excuse me Olbaid Sedai, I will go and speak to the Cutters.”



She watched him go, and then spun on her heel. Crossing the floor in quick strides she resumed her place beside Maihgread. Her stomach knotted at the bleak look Ben gave her, but she smiled for the White sister and took up her hand again.

“I am here Maihgread…”

"....And now we must bring those halves together to undo the binding and release these poor creatures from lives that should have ended three thousand years ago. We must find the portal and shut it for good.” Olbaid drew out the crumpled, stained drawing Amalia had done and held it up for Atlan.

Atlan nodded, not one emotion escaping the void. When he looked at her she smiled again and said, “Atlan, I will give this Bond to whomever you choose, but you and I must achieve this one thing first.” It was an Aes Sedai's way after all, to get what they needed first. But the Asha'man quelled such thoughts in the face of the facts that it was truly what the reality currently required.

Olbaid waited for his agreement, but Atlan was having a hard time coming to terms with how much of himself he would have to leave unguarded to this woman soon. For the first time in a long time Atlan had no idea what to say. Activity swirled around them in the mill; Cutters repairing and improving the defenses, and Aes Sedai murmuring together in a corner. Atlan could feel his bond mates longing to be back at Maihgread’s side.

“First,” he finally found the will to said, “we have to get to the portal, and that will take fighting.” Olbaid’s eyes brightened before him. “If you will excuse me Olbaid Sedai, I will go and speak to the Cutters.” Turning away Atlan went out the mill door, but not before shooting Amalia a loaded glance. Outside Atlan leaned against the wall of the mill and watched as Marcus began to inspect his troops. The Wolfbrother was a veteran of many hard won battles, it was not surprising he had the sense to get ready for whatever blood shed lay ahead.

"I take it we have something to discuss?" Amalia said as she joined him outside the mill. Atlan smiled ruefully at that."Do we not always? I actually find that I miss Shade's company on this trek, his words would match my mood perfectly." Amalia smiled briefly, but only just. Turning to look at his friend Atlan just started in on the meat of the matter."We need to fight our way back to the spot you found that scratching. There is a Portalstone that these Soldiers of Light escaped from that we need to severe from this plane. It is very likely we will come against more creatures as we search that area for what we seek, but me and Olbaid will now be able to channel against them."

Amalia raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued as well as puzzled. Atlan explained the rest."We will have to nearly completely join to accomplish this so that our weaves can touch and 'untwist' what was done to these men in a coordinated effort. To do this I will have to be completely unguarded to and with Olbaid." The significance hit Amalia no later then the last syllable was uttered."No." Amalia said as her eyes hardened, but a split second later they caught up to her own realization that there really was no better option."Damn the bloody luck of this all."She breathed out glancing away.

Atlan barked a laugh at her involuntarily.

many moments passed with nothing said. Atlan looked at Amalia studying her intently.She stood medium height, with blue-green eyes and dark brown hair,close cropped.Amalia was of a normal build that masked well her being slightly muscular. Her features were above average, ageless and regular,but with a bold nose which traded being truly pretty to make her appear strong. Her skin pale, but the life of a Green Sister insuring that her face and hands were always slightly tanned. As usual Amalia was dressed in fine yet unadorned wool ,dark green, Her skirts divided for riding, soft boots. The sheaths of two long daggers were fastened on her belt along with a Rapier she was adequate with by his standards. But it was not the physical that Atlan truly sought with his eyes.

It was how deeply and how truly he trusted this woman before him that he sought.

Things to come would also require that, if he was to ask what he thought he might, that that trust run both ways. He knew he could never trust Olbaid in such a way, and even if she had lived Angelique would have never passed any test to convince him she could be trusted fully regardless of their twin sons. She had been, after all was said and done, Black Ajah after all. But if this horror had proven anything it was that the M'Hael and the The Amyrlin Seat had been right about Atlan and what him being Ta'veren could very well mean.

He needed to know he could trust Amalia, but he also needed to know that deep down Amalia could truly trust him.

"When this is done, if we live, will you share a mutual bond with me?" Atlan said in a whisper. Looking into Amalia's eyes Atlan simply waited for the answer.

Returning Atlan`s still somewhat haunted, searching gaze calmly was hardly an effort, yet it distracted Amalia from thinking. At least she now knew what this was about. It had not irritated her that Olbaid had sent her to tell Atlan she wanted to speak to him even though the woman stood below her – Amalia hardly cared for that in any case, and in this situation not at all – but that Olbaid had not directly told her what she knew, that was what had rankled.

Maybe, Amalia mused, she had grown too used to being with people with whom such things worked without her having to ask. Or her having to pretend to be checking on Dovienya as excuse to overhear what Olbaid had said to Atlan. It was her responsibility to see her sisters safe, yet Olbaid, likely unintentionally, had withheld crucial information. Browns!

Realising she was merely trying not to see what loomed right in front of her, Amalia suppressed a sigh. A Portal Stone. That explained why it the drawings had seemed familiar to her.

“When this is done, if we live, will you share a mutual bond with me?" Atlan`s sudden, unexpected words jolted her out of her thoughts. Blinking, she focused her gaze on him.
“Why?” she asked simply, both playing for time and because she really wanted to know. That haunted gaze never changed a hair, yet its intensity grew.

“I need someone to trust entirely. And I need to know if you can trust me. I will not remain bonded to Olbaid once this is over, but what if we ever encounter something like this again? You don`t know what it feels like… it is as if I am losing myself. The bond reminds me of who I am. I don`t want to consider what I would be now without it. I don`t want to be unreliable, wondering when I will again turn into… a monster.”

He paused for a moment. The pain in his low, fierce whisper tugged at Amalia`s heart, she stood still, sensing she had better not interrupt him.
“If there is anyone I would trust with my bond, it is you, Amalia.” He looked as if he might say more, then closed his mouth firmly.

Hesitating, Amalia looked into those familiar grey eyes which had seen more than his youth would lead anyone to believe. As she finally spoke, she chose her words carefully.
“I thank you for your trust, Atlan,” she said gently. “I`m sorry, but I cannot give you an answer right now. As you know, there is more than the bond between Davin and me. I have to speak with him first; it would not be fair, otherwise. I value your friendship, Atlan, as I do value your trust, but this would have too much of an impact on Davin to decide without him.”

His face grew moody, almost a little sullen. Light, what had he expected?
“There is something, though, which I think I never told you. Not by design; it simply never occurred to me. I should have recognized those drawings. Some ninety years back, I used a Portal Stone together with a few others to reach a world where a Darkfriend was making breeding experiments with Trollocs and humans.” Her mouth twisted as memories surfaced. The long, barely lit corridors. The absence of colour. The dark cells and children huddled in them, orphans, some with an appearance that was not entirely human. The corpses she had glanced at, of women who had died during pregnancy or birth.

“We managed to put a stop to it and get back home. Ever since then, I have known the sign that stands for our world, a triangle standing on its point inside a circle. You will have to find the way to that world, but I can bring us back.” Atlan looked at her and nodded, relaxing slightly. He understood. The burden – and the responsibility – was not his alone.

“Well, before we can get back, we first have to get there. Let`s get inside and talk to the others.”

“…and so I left Mayene, after six months or so, and made my way back to Tar Valon”.

Ben shrugged, suddenly self conscious. Maihgread had only asked him to tell her about himself, and without realizing it he’d ended up giving her the shorthand version of his life story. Strange to think why; he wasn’t normally given to such wordage. “I’m sorry Maihgread Sedai, you didn’t ask me to…”

“No Ben”, she smiled at him, though her eyes were bright with pain, “it’s fine, I enjoyed hearing it.” He smiled and took up her hand; warm fingers enclosing cold. “By my count though, you owe me a year Ben. It was last winter that you returned to the Tower”.

He nodded, a small grin lightening his features. “Well, nothing much to tell there.”

“Oh?”

“The usual business I guess, running errands for Olbaid.”

“Really?”

Ben’s brows knit in a slight frown. He looked at her warily. “Really.”

Maihgread managed a smile, and her eyes held a mischief that Ben suspected was a rarity. “It’s just …”

“Just what?”

“Something Olbaid said earlier today, when we were riding. She said that you’ve been wearing a frown ever since you came back from Sidona”. Now her eyes settled into a calm that was implacable. He marvelled at her poise and, at the same time, braced himself for the question to come. “I wonder how ‘running an errand’ could trouble a man like you,” she said.

“I…, nothing..” he stumbled, face going red. “It was nothing really. I met a..”

Maihgread hissed behind her teeth as a man in a red cloak and snowy boots stomped up behind her, saving Ben from the uncomfortable admission that was about to come.

“Master Greigan,” he announced.

Ben looked up, relieved to have avoided Maihgread’s query, but annoyed at the interruption just the same. “Yes?”

“Olbaid Sedai requires you join her now, “ his bluff manner grated Ben, but the Warder nodded aquiescence. “And she thought you would be wanting this…” The man held out a sword, the same weapon Ben had left in the barn. It’s battered, frost-rimed length glittered in the lamplight. “We found it during our reconnaissance.”

“Thank you,”said Ben through gritted teeth as he took his blade. The Cutter turned and stomped off toward a group of his comrades, and once again Ben was alone with Maihgread.

He stood to his full height and sheathed the sword in its bronze and boarhide casing. “I suppose I have to go now… I‘ll see you soon with any luck.” He turned in the direction of the crowd that was gathering by the main doors of the mill then stopped and half-looked back at the woman lying on the floor. “Saowynn ,” he said in a voice soft with meaning.

Maihgread frowned, confusion in her eyes.

“I met a woman named Saowynn in Sidona and, Light blast me, I haven’t stopped thinking of her since.”

“Oh,” said the Aes Sedai, “well, it all makes sense now.”

“Yes,” he replied, thoughtful, “I suppose it does.” He bowed to her slightly, “til later Maihgread Sedai…”

“Until later Benwaine Greigan.”

And as he left she said something else. Low and whispered, and for no one’s ears save her own.



Ben found Olbaid in heated discussion with Marcus, captain of the Cutters.

“… If you’ll excuse me Aes Sedai, we can’t just leave her here.”

“Yes Captain, we can, and we will.”

The man rubbed his forehead, frustration rising from him like a cloud of steam. “Maihgread Sedai will be defenceless, alone, she will die…”

Olbaid cut him off and gave Ben a warning look for good measure. “I will only explain this once more,” she said with measured patience. Ben was surprised to see Olbaid so raw and curt. “Maihgread wants to be alone, it is the way she has chosen to…”

Sudden understanding bloomed on Marcus’s face, and Ben felt a chill roll down his spine. “For… forgive me, you are right. I just…”

“Don’t be concerned, it is nothing any of us can do anything about,” she said. “What we need is to be about the business at hand.” Her eyes darkened and her mouth grew hard and thin, “that is what Maihgread wants.”

Marcus nodded and then turned to gather his men. Ben looked at Olbaid but found that there was nothing to say. She in turn held his gaze and they both looked at each other for a long while. The clamour of arms rose around them, men moved purposefully, and the voices of Marcus, Atlan and Amalia cut through it all as they ordered the expedition that would take them out, into the night and the horrors it contained.

“How many?”

“Seven men were killed and another five were seriously injured.” Caleb responded, “The Aes Sedai have all but Gregor back on their feet. They are a bit shaken, but they at least know what end of a pike they should be staring down.”

Marcus nodded.

He had been healed enough in his lifetime that he knew exactly what they were going through. Less than half hour ago, he had been sitting on a bench made of rough hewn oak planks, bleeding from a variety of cuts and gashes. One such cut had started just below Marcus’ shoulder blade and wrapped around his body to just above his navel. It had been a nice addition to the sea of black and blue that his ribs had been floating in. Now, thanks to being Healed, the only sign that he had been bruised and bleeding was his tattered shirt and flakes of dried blood that covered the floor.

His stomach growled, nearly doubling him over with it protest. If it were possible, he felt that his hunger had moved past his belly and was into his soul. He needed to eat.

“Make sure the men who have been Healed have plenty to eat.” Marcus told Caleb, “Give them double rations…we should have a little extra.” He didn’t have to tell him why there would be extra; they were both painful aware of their losses.

Telthor Halt had been one of the best horse thieves Marcus had known and a good friend. Jordin Kel was a veteran soldier and privateer, who owned a farm just outside of Whitebridge, where the Cutters would often go to help in the harvest when it was time. Maiath Holpu was a card cheat and drank too much, but would have given the shirt off his back to help his fellow brothers-in-arms. Kelvin Insuru had been a childhood friend of Marcus’ and joined the Cutters when his boredom landed him on the bad side of the town constable. Torvain Huiloi…Yui Inkin…Kulin Oni…

Depending on how you looked at it, they were either the best of the worst or the worst of the best, but they were all friends. Even though all of them knew the dangers they faced when they signed on and knew what the consequences of their decision could be…all Marcus could see was the faces of the mothers, wives, lovers and children these men would leave behind.

“When you are sure they have enough,” Marcus continued, “See if any of the others need anything.”

Caleb nodded and placed his right hand on Marcus’ shoulder, “I’m glad you are alright…”

Marcus returned the gesture, which was the Cutter’s standard greeting, by placing his right hand on Caleb’s shoulder, “You also.” Marcus said, “I was beginning to wonder for awhile there…It was getting ugly”
“Well, from what Lucas said, you gave as good as you got.”

“Well, I doubt I would have lasted more than a minute without Lucas’ help.” Marcus gave a slight smile, “And I wish I wouldn’t have had to receive as much as I did.”

“Now, go make sure the boys are ready to go.”

Like a good soldier, Caleb turned and went about his tasks without question or comment. And, like the good soldier he was, Marcus needed to start making plans; unfortunately, his stomach was still growling too loudly, so he went off in search of some food.

What I wouldn’t do for a steak

It was the hour before dawn when the group of men and Aes Sedai made their way out of the mill and down the main avenue of Muttonsleigh. Curtains of snow twisted and rolled like tattered flags, and the wind was a droning sound out of the north. There was no hint yet of the rising of the sun; indeed, with the storm still increasing in strength, it was like to be a dark morning.

Progress was slow. Everyone was tired and the snow was deep enough to reach the knees of some of the shorter women. Olbaid was one of these, and though she was grateful for the trailbreaking that Atlan and Marcus and a few of the Cutters put in ahead of her, the constant effort of driving herself forward was becoming wearisome.

To her right and left, outriders of the main body of Cutters ranged in pairs, moving through empty yards and alleys like ghosts. No one carried a light; the refracted glow from the snow was enough, and everyone had agreed that it wouldn’t be a chance worth taking. If there were a need for light Olbaid, Amalia, or Elisette could make it, in the quantity needed, when the time came.

Marcus’s men had reported few encounters with the creatures in their reconnoitre of the town. “Completely empty sir”, was what most of them reported to their captain. Then they returned to whisper quietly amongst themselves, eyeing the mill’s great rafters every time the wind howled over.

Now they strutted down the main like a troop of grouse on a fox run. Naked to an attack, but strong enough in number to hold against more than a few of the monstrosities. This had been the solution Marcus and Atlan had reached; a slow advance, in mass, toward the town commonhouse that was their goal. There had been some discussion about a more cautious, hidden approach, but that would have broken up their numbers and forced them to move even more slowly. It wasn’t far anyway, and Olbaid could now see the pillowed rooftop of the building they sought. It stood alone in a circle of sheep pens, chicken yards and outbuildings, and the black hillside loomed over it like the mouth of a giant.



“There’s nothing here”.

Atlan’s voice was flat as he surveyed the frost enshrined room that had once belonged to a young girl. A small globe of light passed by shelves, a desk, a wardrobe, and the small bed again on its slow circuit. Amalia had remarked that nothing had changed since she had last been there, and they had taken nothing but the drawings.

The drawings themselves lay on the bed, spread out as if awaiting a purpose. Olbaid had recognized the child’s attempt to copy the symbols found on portalstones instantly; any Brown worth her salt would. There was even a sketch of the stone itself, appearing half-buried and time worn, but there was nothing in the drawings or the room itself to indicate where the stone actually was.

Olbaid Sestra sighed, buried her hands deeply in the muffler she wore and said, “it has to be here. The stone I mean, the stone has to be here in Muttonsleigh. This child wouldn’t have ranged far from the village I think; these mountains are dangerous…”

Ben clicked his tongue, “unless she saw it elsewhere, on a visit to a logging camp, or a fishing trip.”

The thought hung in the room, and the air was thick with fear and frustration. Silence loomed for a long moment, and only their eyes spoke.

Atlan said, “we cannot sit here and hope that…”

He was cut off by the approach of one of the Cutters, who burst into the room panting and dishevelled. “Sir, we found it!” he said, “what Olbaid Sedai told us to look for!”. Marcus gave them all a hard look, then nodded at the man.

“Take us”, he said.



It was a small thing in the end. Barely noticeable in the far corner of a cold storage shed that looked as though it had been home to the store of turnips and potatoes for several centuries. An unremarkable piece of Muttonsleigh history that, it turned out, came to be the harbinger of its doom.

The small thing looked at first to be a thigh length shaft of stone that had been propped in the north east corner of the shed. But closer inspection showed that it had been there before the shed was built and that the rambling structure had come to lean on it as the years pulled it ever closer to the ground.

All around it the ground was stained and trampled, and the snow outside looked as if it had been the wallow of huge, foul things. Olbaid leaned forward to peer at the stone, and her hand reached out to trace symbols that were barely there.

“Olbaid….” Amalia hissed in warning.

Olbaid stopped and smiled. “Have no fear young sister, I will not touch the stone or activate it in anyway, I merely wanted to confirm that this is the one from the drawings”.

“And is it?”

“It is”, she sighed, letting the next thought die in her throat. There was no point in pressing any kind of academic agenda now; there was no time left. Amalia would have to take over, she was the only one in the party to have ever activated a portalstone, and Olbaid would have to be content as her second.

“How could a young girl…?” Elisette’s question hung in the air. “I mean how would she even know which symbols to use?”

Amalia’s reply came soft and grim. “She could channel, so she couldn’t have been a young child; past her Turning to be sure. And as for the symbols…”

The Green sister edged in front of the stone and Olbaid retreated a few steps. Amalia’s hand followed the worn glyphs and after a few moments a frown crossed her features.

“What is it?” Olbaid asked.

For a moment Amalia was still, crouched before the object, then she reached and tapped a glyph with her forefinger. “I could not see this detail from the drawing but now I see it clearly. Almost all of the symbols are false. They are familiar to the symbols we have seen on every portalstone we’ve discovered, but most of these have been altered slightly…” She looked around at the gathered faces and locked eyes with Olbaid. “See here, the symbol for Fal Dara: an ellipse broken by three lines. On this stone the centre line doesn’t extend through the ellipse; it is a false symbol.”

“How do you know it’s false?” said Elisette, “Couldn’t it just be a similar symbol.”

Amalia frowned again, “I cannot say that it isn’t, but every stone we’ve found has the same symbols, and they’ve all been perfect copies of the others. This one was made differently.”

“Could it be that this stone is only meant for one purpose?” offered Olbaid.

Amalia nodded, “I see three symbols that are correct to my eyes: one a glyph of opening, one a map of the destination,” she pointed to a rectangle filled with eight symbols, “and the last a glyph of closing. One need only channel a slight amount of the Power into the stone while touching it and…”

“And what?” asked Arutha.

Ben’s reply cut the silence,“…and the Portal opens”.

“Well?” Olbaid cast a glance around those gathered inside the shed. “Shall we? If nothing else we must ensure that if this is where those ‘things’ came from, that it is closed and sealed by any means necessary.” One by one they all nodded, and Olbaid’s mouth set in a hard line And I hope that we may find something to tell us the fate of the child.
With a simple gesture Amalia motioned for everyone in the group to come as close as possible. The Cutter’s crammed themselves in shoulder to shoulder and there was much grumbling, but a hiss from Elisette cut it off. Presently Amalia took on Saidar and the glow surrounded her. The symbols on the stone began to dance with a subtle fire, and the world began to shimmer and waver.




Olbaid’s balance wavered and her sight dimmed, but the way she pinched the skin of her left wrist, inside the muffler where none else could see, ensured that her focus returned sharply when the portal closed. Olbaid blinked and looked around. It was still cold, numbingly so, but the air smelled dead, unused, bereft of even the faint smell of pine and spruce that permeated Muttonsleigh. Her eyes took a moment to adjust. It had been dim light on the other side in the storm-rattled shed, but here it was almost complete darkness.
All were silent, and there were no sounds but controlled breathing and the occasional scrape of a boot on stone. Those sounds were enough to give Olbaid the sense that they were in an open space, because any roof above them would have cast echoes. She reached out and found the sleeve of Ben’s coat, surprised to find that the man was nearly humming with energy.

“Can you see anything”, she said in a whisper.

“No”, he breathed.

She reached out to Saidar and, finding it was there, sighed audibly. Good, good, good. All that I need to do now is provide a little illumin… Olbaid stopped. The weave she had created a thousand times in her life had fallen apart like rotten lace. She tried again, but with the same result. Suddenly the darkness closed in around her.

“Ben I…. I can’t make a light”.

“I know Olbaid, it sounds like Amalia and Elisette Sedai are having difficulty too.” His voice at least, was something rock-solid in the void that surrounded them.

She became aware of cursing and movement to her left. She heard Marcus muttering and fumbling through his kit, and then the welcome sound of a steel ringing off flint. A moment later his face became the first thing visible in the dark; lit red by the ember cupped between his hands. In another moment the Captain of the Cutters had a torch, supplied by one of his men, held aloft in his hand and the tightly bunched group squinted at their surroundings.

Not much to see at first. The group was standing on a paved stone floor, smooth and grey but for the seams that ran between the stones. At the very center of the group stood the opposite of the worn and crumbled portalstone back in Muttonsleigh. Here it was whole and appeared to be untouched and ageless. Save for a fine coat of dust, it might have been made yesterday. It stood out from the smooth floor like a pale tooth, the only feature in this empty place. The growing unease was palpable now as men’s gazes drifted from the floor to what lay all around them. Where the light of the Cutter’s torch did not penetrate the darkness was quiet and infinite, heavy with the silence of centuries.

Then Olbaid’s eyes fell on something she had not seen before. Small, dark objects scattered around the base of the portalstone. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the torch she made them out more clearly; a scapula, a few ribs, a long bone that might have been a femur, and there, amidst a serpentine length of spine was a small, gracile jawbone.

“Oh no”. That was Elisette’s voice, and it broke with sorrow. She had seen the bones too, and she knew to whom they belonged.

“The girl”, Atlan said coldly, and Olbaid’s heart began to thunder in her breast. This was too much to bear, that this young and innocent thing had stumbled into this den of horror by an accident of inquisitiveness and a gift she likely knew nothing about. Ben shifted beside her and she caught his eyes. ‘Don’t waver’ they seemed to say, ‘stay strong for us’.

“What now?” said Arutha, breaking the impossibly cruel moment.

“We walk”, said Atlan.

“Walk where?”

“There”.

Atlan was pointing forward and Olbaid peered in that direction. There, on the edge of her vision was a dim shape rising out of the floor. “Light save me,” she muttered, “how did he…?”

Without realizing it, she had just warned Atlan to be careful through the Bond. The young Kandori seemed not to notice though, he took one long stride out of the group toward the object. He moved purposefully, as if that object were their hope and salvation. And now Olbaid saw too, whether Atlan had shown her through the Bond or she realized it herself, she could now see, or feel, that the same twisted umbilicals of Power that connected the raving creatures in the world they’d left behind, were also connected to this dim object before them.

A ter’angreal? How does it do what it does? What is feeding it with Power?

She felt for Saidar again and found it waiting just out of reach. Just like in the village, but moreso.

She followed Atlan and so did the others, their footfalls sounding like death drums in the flat silence.


A sudden noise sounded behind them, in the opposite direction of the ter’angreal, and the entire group turned in unison. Olbaid heard Ben’s sword whistle around into a guard position and the clank and jingle of the other men’s harness followed suit. She felt Atlan’s hackles rise like a wolf’s.

A shape drew out of the dark, tall and straight and clad in pale robes that were stained by time and dust. The man, or what looked like a man, had a shaven head, high, intelligent features, and a muscular frame. At his wrists he wore metal bracelets and a small circlet of steel hung from a light chain around his neck. His skin was a dusky hue and his eyes were hidden under deep folds of flesh. When he smiled his teeth showed black, stained by some ritual or other, or a deficiency of the diet Olbaid reckoned. What mattered was that it wasn’t the smile of welcome or greeting.

“So long it has been Aes Sedai, and yet we have been faithful”.

His throat sounded coated with the dust of centuries, and yet it filled the air and was masterful. Olbaid looked closer, difficult from this distance, but there was something about the way he fingered the circlet that troubled her.

“So long, soooo long. We wondered if you would ever come to claim us. Do you know what it is like to live alone with one’s thoughts for a thousand lifetimes?” His long strides brought him up, twenty yards away from the group, and he stood there with his head cocked at a strange angle.

“Sooooo long”, he hissed, and then light bloomed around them.




At first Olbaid couldn’t believe what she saw. The paved floor was actually a dais, and a small thing in the space they now occupied. It was a room, or a chamber after all, though the diminuitive Aes Sedai had never heard of anything so vast, so unbelievably huge. The dome above them rose from walls that were too distant to see, and it soared to heights that made her dizzy when she tilted her head back. It was unlike anything she could have imagined, and she had never, in two hundred and five years of living, either read or heard of anything like it.

The gasps from the group were not for the chamber though. With an icy dread her eyes dropped to the ground that stretched away from the circular dais on all sides. There, in ranked rows, in the midst of a pale, swirling fog, stood hundreds of soldiers.



Ahhh, so here they are. The Cadre of Collaam Daan. What a thing to behold… Each one wore the same dark armour that their bestial brethren had in the other world, though these were different in that the armour was still whole, if a bit dusty. Their livery was intact as well, and each man held a long spear upright and to port. The soldiers were in blocked units of fifty arranged around the dais like petals on a flower. Apparently this was the most efficient way to send such a great number of armed men through a portal. Whoever they had been meant to fight so long ago in the War of Power would have been in for a terrible surprise.

But when Olbaid looked closer at the ordered soldiers certain truths became apparent. Many of them were dead where they stood. Withered corpses in armour, still holding their spears and ready to go to war. Whatever force it was that had sustained them still served to keep them in their standing positions, though here and there they slumped, or lolled on invisible pinions. Olbaid could also see gaps in the ranks. Soldiers were missing and she could only assume that those posts had been abandoned by the same hapless things that now haunted Muttonsleigh.

It was terrible to contemplate: the sense of duty, sacrifice, or desperation that had impelled these men to allow Aes Sedai to use them so. She had to wonder if the Age of Legends had been such a time of greatness after all. Three millennia here, in the dark…. Damn the Light.

And then something new caught her eye; the fog was changing. It was withdrawing, thinning, and drifting away as she watched. The fog… Now it was barely a mist around the soldiers ankles, and then… In a rush of emotion Olbaid realized that something had changed, and the departure of the fog had something to do with it. She could sense Saidar, but now she could touch it. With a shudder she realized that Atlan had sensed the same thing, and as she looked up she caught his eye and the dark smile growing on his lips.



Now the party turned back to the man in the robes. To Olbaid he seemed to be a caretaker of sorts. One who might be left awake to care for the legion in their slumber…

“Sooooo, sooooo long….”

“Who are you?” Olbaid demanded. She was full of Saidar and was ready to rain fire on this man if he displeased her.

The man grinned, closed his eyes and rotated his to a strange angle. “I enjoy hearing your voice”, he muttered. “The sound of it breaks my heart…”Olbaid exchanged an uneasy look with Ben. What was this man trying to say? “So long”, he continued, “to come to the conclusion that we had been forgotten.” His eyes flashed open, “and even longer to consider what might happen if we should be found.”

Olbaid recoiled from the threat in his voice and made a sudden realization: he couldn’t leave,…. they couldn’t leave. They were trapped until someone opened the portal from the other side. The girl…. Is it because none of them could channel? What if it can’t be opened from this side?

Now she looked up, into the madness in the eyes of the robed man, and heard him speak. “Someone has to stay, so that others may go…”

The man began caressing the circlet, drawing his finger around the rim, and all at once movement stirred on every side of them. Not every one of the soldiers was dead it seemed. Here and there amidst the silent ranks men snapped to attention, bringing the dark shafts of their spears up hard against their chests. As one, they moved forward, pushing their dead brothers down and away as they came toward the dais, and Olbaid could saw that the light of duty and sacrifice had long ago left their eyes….



There was a pause, and then time seemed to explode in every direction. The Cutters burst into action assuming a defensive stance; a circle that would give protection from the enemy that advanced from all quarters. Atlan snarled and coiled himself to strike and Ben.. Olbaid realized that the Warder was still beside her, but he was positively brimming with bound energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he eyed the man in the robes.

“Ben”, she whispered, “what are you… what are you doing?”

Ben turned a brief grin toward her, “I’m going to kill that fool, and I’m going to take his goat-kissing necklace”.

She smiled then, amidst it all and said, “yes, I think that’s a fine plan”.

With that he burst forward, gaining speed with every footfall, his broadsword a deadly brand in his right hand. The man in the robe turned his attention to Ben as soon as he saw the movement and a predatory grin split his features. He fell into a fighting stance that was strange to Olbaid’s eyes and she saw a slender chain drop from the sleeve of his robe, and catch in the fingers of his large, smooth hand. At the end of this chain another circlet spun and wavered in the pale light, and it was obvious from the polish that this one was bladed.

Ben’s pace didn’t slow. He had closed to within ten yards of his opponent, intent on the same bull rush that had seen him through so many combats. When he had crossed another two yards the robed man’s arm whipped around and the chain shot out like a bolt fired from a crossbow. It streaked across the intervening space in a whining trajectory that would have taken it into Ben’s throat had not the warder wheeled aside at the last moment, the chain with its circlet blade streaking past his left cheek.

The robed man hissed, withdrew the chain by snapping its forward momentum back across his hips, and brought it around for another strike.

This time Ben was ready. His broadsword flashed up and met the chain, and as metal clashed the tethered circlet whipped around the blade three or four times. The robed man grinned as though this was but one of many endgames and yanked backward, intending to pull the warder’s sword away.

But Ben was faster. He pulled up and drove the point of his weapon down into the seam between two pavers where it stuck fast. The chain was now an unwelcome hindrance and as Ben swung round and stomped on the taut line with his right boot, the robed man dropped his end and charged.

Ben met him at the half way point and neatly avoided a kick aimed at his chin. The robed man recovered quickly though and sent a fist crashing into Ben’s ribs before the other could feint or pull away.

Olbaid heard the crack of bone and saw Elaryn Drenhald’s warder slump to one knee gasping. Now the robed man stood over his opponent with another chain; this one pulled from inside the other sleeve. He smiled and stepped forward.

At that instant Ben stood, rocketing upward and drove the top of his head into the others chin like a hammer. Then he veered back and came forward, the hard dome of his forehead making a last, bone splitting strike into the face of his opponent. The robed man dropped to his knees as Ben yanked the bloodied necklace free.

The warder held it up in triumph, grinning through bloodied teeth at Olbaid. But his smile faded quickly as he saw something behind her. She didn’t have to turn around though. The stomach churning sight was before her too; it was all around them in fact.

Each one of the advancing soldiers had begun a slow rotation of their spear, which to her now was obviously a double ended weapon. And as each one of those ends leapt into crackling life with a dull orange fire that sapped her hope, she knew that she looked upon the ancient bane of Power users. The great leveller that had long ago put the power to kill the mighty into a common soldier’s hands.

“Shocklances”, she whispered….

It was such an odd feeling that flooded Atlan as he stood in the room on the other side of the portal. He felt everything, every emotion and every physical discomfort, he even felt the press of time on his senses that had driven the soldiers mad. But it was all muted, all secondary, to the blazing web that Atlan saw about him, and permeating from himself. Just like when I ran to the Cutters, except a thousand fold. Atlan mused to himself.

“Can you see anything”, Olbaid said in a whisper.

“No”, Ben breathed.

What were they talking about? The room was lit in golden light, Atlan could see that the group was standing on a paved stone floor, smooth and grey but for the seams that ran between the stones. At the very center of the group stood the opposite of the worn and crumbled portalstone back in Muttonsleigh. Here it was whole and appeared to be untouched and ageless. Save for a fine coat of dust, it might have been made yesterday. It stood out from the smooth floor like a pale tooth, the only feature in this empty place.

All around them lay the bones of the dead. All around them stood the soldiers of the forgotten.

“Ben I…. I can’t make a light”.

“I know Olbaid, it sounds like Amalia and Elisette Sedai are having difficulty too.” Ben voiced, rock-solid in the void that seemed to surrounded the others. What by the light is going on?

Someone put flint to steel and a torch lit the room. Atlan could not distinguish were the torchlight began and were the golden light he apparently saw alone began. Then it came, a sudden surge in sorrow, and Atlan gritted his teeth.“Oh no”. That was Elisette’s voice, and it broke with sorrow. She had seen the bones now, and she knew to whom they belonged.“The girl”, Atlan said coldly, and Olbaid suddenly flared with emotion. It seemed too much to bear, that this young and innocent thing had stumbled into this den of horror by an accident of inquisitiveness and a gift she likely knew nothing about. He knew then that she was actually human.

“What now?” said Arutha, breaking the impossibly cruel moment.

“We walk”, said Atlan.

“Walk where?”

“There”.

Atlan was pointing forward and Olbaid peered in that direction. Atlan pointed at an old cylinder that seemed to be set in the middle of the massive room, Olbaid had to squint but soon he heard her whisper in shock as she caught sight of what Atlan saw “Light save me,” she muttered, “how did he…?” Then suddenly she warned Atlan to be careful through the Bond. Atlan ignored her, beginning to walk toward the cylinder. But Atlan could now sense without question that there were twisted umbilicals of Power that connected the raving creatures in the world they’d left behind connected to this cylinder object before them.

The entire group followed him, Atlan gritted his teeth, was he leading them to their deaths? He could slowly see through the web of light now a thick light shooting from the cylinder directly into his chest. On the edge of his reason Atlan thought he heard a whispering voice in his head. Do not turn back, It said, the end is almost here.

A noise from behind made Atlan tense and turn as he unshealthed his heron-marked blade.A shape drew out of the light which had blurred together behind Atlan, tall and straight and clad in pale robes that were stained by time and dust. The man, or what looked like a man, had a shaven head, high, intelligent features, and a muscular frame. At his wrists he wore metal bracelets and a small circlet of steel hung from a light chain around his neck. His skin was a dusky hue and his eyes were hidden under deep folds of flesh. When he smiled his teeth showed black, stained by some ritual or other, or just pure corruption. It was not the smile of welcome or greeting.

But what really made Atlan watch in shock was he could sense something off the man he had not felt in years. This man, or this thing that had once been a man, seemed to emanate the taint that had once sullied the male half of the one power.

His fault! Came the whisper in the back of Atlans head.

“So long it has been Aes Sedai, and yet we have been faithful”.

His throat sounded coated with the dust of centuries, and yet it filled the air and was masterful. It was then that Atlan saw that the pattern web seemed to bend around something he fingered in his hand. The man eyed Atlan and smiled, Atlan felt the pattern crush down on him yet again, painfully.

“So long, soooo long. We wondered if you would ever come to claim us. Do you know what it is like to live alone with one’s thoughts for a thousand lifetimes?”

Flicker of sight and the man was a step closer to the group.

“Sooooo long”, He said once again and Atlan shut his eyes as light exploded. Help us! Came the whisper in his head, this time louder. Opening his eyes Atlan pushed back at the blinding light. He did not notice that the the fog was changing. That it was withdrawing, thinning, and drifting away as the others watched. He however did feel that as he pushed back at the light that Saidin filled him like a raging torrent, like a breath after drowning for ages.

“Sooooo, sooooo long….” The man hissed, Atlan saw his eyes filled with hate watching him.

“Who are you?” Olbaid demanded. Goose bumps ran up and down Atlans arms then. The light began to intensify and Atlan pushed back at it. The robed man scowled.

Then the man grinned, closed his eyes and rotated his to a strange angle. “I enjoy hearing your voice”, he muttered. “The sound of it breaks my heart…”Atlan found himself warring with the light now having to push back with all his will.“So long”, he continued, “to come to the conclusion that we had been forgotten.” His eyes flashed open, “and even longer to consider what might happen if we should be found."Looking dead into Atlans eyes the man said to him directly.”Someone has to stay, so that others may go…”

The light, the pattern, crashed down on Atlan then and he pushed back, barely able to keep from being consumed. Many, many more things Atlan could then suddenly feel. Thousands of voids opened around his small group, like soulless versions of the monsters in Muttonsleigh. Atlan closed his eyes and pushed back, struggling, till something behind him pushed against the light as well. Suddenly Atlan opened his eyes and found new horror surrounding him.

Atlan snarled and coiled himself to strike. The Soldiers of the Forgotten moved in on them all.

“Ben”, Olbaid whispered beside him, “what are you… what are you doing?”Ben turned a brief grin toward her, “I’m going to kill that fool, and I’m going to take his goat-kissing necklace”. Necklace? Atlan eyed the blinding light in the old mans hand. With that Ben burst forward, But Atlan turned away eying the cylinder behind them. It now glowed with a light as bright as the sun.

Atlan became lost in that light.

Orin Trakarn knew his father would not agree. The plan was too risky, too fraught with peril. But the blond heir of Alcairrahien could not look in the mirror and be pleased with himself if he did nothing. What was the point of being Ta'veren if all the world had was grief and pain?

Atlan came back to himself then, blinking, eying the cylinder with growing dread. He had seen 'Orin' in the mirror as if it had been himself but for the platinum blond hair. The boy had steel grey eyes, familiar steel grey eyes. His name...Orin...could that mean? But Atlan soon found he had little opportunity to contemplate on what could very well be in the cylinder after all.

Each one of the advancing soldiers had begun a slow rotation of their spear, which obviously were double ended weapons. As each one of those ends leapt into crackling life with a dull orange showing that they were in fact the ancient bane of Power users. The great leveler that had long ago put the power to kill the mighty into a common soldier’s hands.

“Shocklances”, Olbaid whispered….

Someone channeled Saidin, someone powerful, but not Atlan. The path between Atlan and the cylinder suddenly rocked, the cracked, then violently tore apart shoving souless soldiers to both sides atop their long dead companions. Come! said the whispering voice inside Atlans head, as the floor gave way to show nothing but endless black beneath. Jump to me brother, I shall bring you to me. Atlan turned to Amalia, she had fallen with most of the group as the violent use of the one power had ripped away the floor, and Atlan smiled tossing he his heron marked blade."Just in case." He said to her and used a tendril of air he channeled to bring a dropped shocklance to his hand.

Turning to face the cylinder Atlan ran the few steps he could and jumped seemingly into the endless black void."Atlan!" Someone screamed from behind him as a wailing scream escaped the robe man. But then saidin exploded again from the cylinder in weaves so intricate Atlan could not hope to follow exactly what the were and he was caught as if he were a boy tossed into the air by a loving parent. His jump became a graceful glide over the ruined walkway, a chasm now growing by the moment as more and more cracks appeared around it, and Atlan was gently set down near the cylinder itself. This close Atlan could see the web of light was centered here, yet every so often a strand would shift away entangling itself to Atlan himself. Atlan reached a hand out and touched the cylinder.

Orin looked at the cylinder and realized what he was about to sacrifice. He would no longer be a prince, he would no longer be Aes Sedai. No, after this it would all seize to matter, he would simply be Ta'veren. A sleeping Ta'veren holding the pattern in place so that this secret army could be used exactly when it was most needed. He would be a tool, a battery, the way that the Builder could make sure that the thousand upon thousands of brave souls here would never be attacked, never tire, never be obliterated by surprise or betrayal. He put the necklace on and felt it begin to take away his ego, his sense of self. Felt it reach out through the pattern itself to slow time, slow aging, slow everything. Opening his eyes Orin saw the fog begin to build, to envelope the soldiers, the Robed man, Galvin, smiled down on him...waiting...watching. Lews Therin Tel'aman would be given the orb of opening, why was Orin so dreadfully afraid? Why would the dread not leave him even as he fell into blackness?

Atlan knew then, as if he himself had lived through it, that Galvin had taken the necklace out of arrogant pride. Then the seal had only halfway been achieved, since Orin was in the chamber yet did not have the necklace, and the fool had played his part in dooming them all. Lews Therin Telaman going mad had finished the rest, or had he simply lost the Orb? Stepping back Atlan raised the shocklance up and brought it full force down on the top of the cylinder. The blow made a loud, reverberating, sound and the top of the closed cylinder shattered and fog jutted out so thick it made a column of thick grey smoke that shot out all the way to the far off ceiling.

Atlan heard more then say that the entire chamber began to crack apart then. The pattern free now it could no longer hold the structure together as it had for more then an age. No, his eyes were glued to what began to appear as the trapped fog began to run out, a boy curled inside the cylinder with grey eyes and platinum blond hair."Orin.." Atlan whispered down at the boy. Uncurling the boy sat up staring at Atlan with both sorrow and joy warring in his eyes."Atlan..I thought your were a dream?" Orin said in a voice so hoarse it was painful to hear. Atlan leaned and help Orin to his feet, noticing that Orin looked almost exactly like a version of himself with a bit of their father woven in."How is this possible?" Atlan whispered.

"Val Trakarn Tel'sara is my father....as he is yours." Orin said in a weak voice, then Orin fell forward into Atlans arms."But we must leave. The weaves and manipulations of the pattern are unraveling and this place will soon seize to exist." Orin seemed so frail in Atlans arms, so weak, and yet the weight of the pattern seemed to crash down harder and harder on the pair. Grunting Atlan pulled Orin from the broken cylinder and held him up on his feet. Looking around Atlan saw that the entire chamber was beginning to fall apart, billions of cracks forming and stone falling away to show deep blackness behind it. The Soldiers, those alive still, watched this all with but one emotion showing on their faces, relief.

Pulling every ounce of saidin he could into himself Atlan growled and brought air and spirit to bare in a hurry. Near the portalstone connected to this chamber at the heart of nothing were his friends. They all stood there, Amalia, Olbaid, Arutha, Marcus, Ben and the Cutters, all watching him and eying the destruction around them. Atlan could almost hear their thoughts, their worries on how he could reach them as the floor was devoured by the abyss below. Atlan smiled, he felt Orin seize saidin himself as well, and Atlan unleashed his weaves and formed an invisible bridge as quick as he could toward the Portalstone. He ran as soon as he began channeling, feet hitting the bridge of air and spirit as soon as it took shape.

All around him the chamber collapsed. Stones the size of small houses barely missed his saidin made bridge. Atlan gritted his teeth and was glad that Orin weaved what he could to divert the falling stones, that Olbaid and Amalia joined in as they could. But then a huge stone hit the cylinder and shattered it, along with the floor beneath it, and Atlan was forced to jump the last ten feet as best he could as the foundation for his bridge gave way. Atlan knew he would never make it, that ten feet with while carrying Orin was too much for anyone, but Atlan knew he would not fall.

He was not surprised when Olbaid, Amalia and Elisette reached out with Saidar and caught the pair. He was not even suprised when Ben and marcus reached out and help him the last few inches onto the 'platform' that remained were the portalstone stood. Looking up Atlan nodded to those around him and smiled."It is time to leave." He said hearing his own tired voice and sighing. Because since he had taken Orin out of his self imprisonment the pattern had released its death grip upon him, Atlan could finally breath.

"Sooo long." Came a voice then beside the portalstone that brought Atlans eyes to a robed man laying bloodied near the stone. The man clawed at the stone, desperation clear on his face."Galvin." Atlan said coldly, a sneer corrupting his relieved smile. He could still feel the taint upon the man even now, so near the end. Orin looked up then at the robed man and squeezed Atlans shoulder."Do not hate him brother...pity him. He was right in one thing. Someone has to stay, so that others may go…" Orin looked up at Ben then, a sad look in his eyes."Bind his hands with the necklace. When we use the Portalstone he alone will be stuck here with those that are dead."

Atlan turned and looked at Orin. Galvin had ruined everything and forced them all into a fate worse then death. Yet Orin sounded sad for Galvin even as he pronounced how best to punish the man. As Ben bent and did as suggested Atlan wondered at that, wondered on the forgiveness this lost brother could still find himself capable of. But also he found himself wondering one more thing."If the necklace binds you here...then how would you have ever been able to leave?"Atlan asked. Orin smiled to himself then looking into Atlans eyes."That fate I believed when I accepted this path was to forever be blocked from me."

Stunned Atlan looked away, catching Amalia's eye and letting his shock show. Amalia herself looked at Orin, both impressed and for some reason wary. Olbaid walked up beside Atlan then and smiled."It is time to go Atlan. Get up close to one another." Atlan did as ordered, looking around to make sure all that had come were with the group still. They all had made it, every last one, down to the Cutters even whom six held shocklances in their hands. Amalia took the lead, bending down and tracing a symbol on the Portalstone. The world blurred again and the sudden screams from Galvin faded away with the sounds of the breaking Chamber.

They were all back in Muttonsleigh, back in the storage shed around the more decayed portalstone. Atlan stumbled a bit and felt Orin sag against his side. Turning he looked at Orin and found his fellow Ta'veren had gone pale, very pale."Take me outside brother...please." Orin begged. Without a word Atlan complied helping his brother to the storage shed entrance and through it into the open winter air. Atlan saw right off that the fog was now being burned away by the daylight, that it seemed to begin to dissipate into the wind. Beside him Orin gave out a great sigh of relief, tilting his head back to feel the fresh air so long denied him. A single tear rolled down Orins face."Thank you brother." Orin said in a whisper.

Then the male Aes Sedai ta'veren collapsed.

OOC:Okay, enough for now. I figure Atlan will have his last heartrending moments with Orin back at the Barn. I should give the rest of you some opportunity to post.

They stood twenty paces away from the others, both facing east where the new sun rose. The storm had broken while they were away, and now only the odd, quick flake darted while the wind calmed to weak gusts. Cold had replaced the storm ; a bitter, crackling chill that stung the cheeks and watered the eyes. Olbaid regarded the sunrise with her chin nestled in her scarf. She sniffed and Ben, standing a pace away, flinched at the noise.

“I would that I were anywhere but here”, she said. It wasn’t often that she let her usually dauntless exterior fall away, but it was just Ben, and he knew her almost as well as Novald.

Ben grunted, pulling his cloak around him. His breath came in steaming blasts and frost had accumulated on the whiskers around his mouth and nose. “We’ll be gone soon Olbaid, after we collect Jurine and…” His voice trailed away and when she looked over at him she could see his head was hung.

All around them the black, dead hulks of the town buildings sat like grave markers in the snow. Muttonsleigh was a tomb now, buried under winter’s weight for a season, but soon to moulder and tumble while songbirds perched on the goodwives’ plate rails.

There would be no coming back here, save to visit memory. An accounting must be made, and Olbaid would be the one to write it. She thought that Ben could help her perhaps, but another look at the Warder showed her that he was in no mood to discuss reports or accounts.

She moved in beside him and passed an arm through his. Ben looked up and smiled, an old sadness in his eyes, “what if it had been you in that Barn Olbaid?” His voice was weak, far away. “I don’t think I could bear that.”

She smiled back and they both turned to look at the sunrise again. “Be at ease Gaidin,” she said, “you did what you could.”

Now the wind fell away.

And silence came to Muttonsleigh.