********************************************************************** Hi, This is Ken Kofman, sending out yet another _As The Wheel Turns_ posting. I suppose I should put some sort of copyright notice on this, so here goes: Copyright, Ken Kofman (c) 1994. All rights reserved except for those that Tor and Robert Jordan deserve, and except that anyone who wants to copy this material may do so, so long it remains unaltered, including this notice, and so long as no fees of any kind are charged for its use. In other words, enjoy it, show it to all your friends, be inspired to run your own game, but since I'm not making any money off of this, you shouldn't either. I hope I did that right. Anyway, KenK ken@ictv.com ********************************************************************** Creation Nine Rods rule over all Eight Ajah preserve and fall Seven Ages of the Wheel Six Bound to serve the dead Five Flows create the Weave Four Peoples born to live Three Supports of all the worlds Two Powers never to be whole One Dragon on the winds of Time. Summary of Session 9 of _As the Wheel Turns_ 26-7-94 Thus began the new day, shrouded in mist and a drizzling rain, yet preferable was this by far to the constant torrent of water from the sky that had prevailed for many a day. And so it was that each from amongst these brave companions looked to his own situation, yet was this predicament shared to some measure by all those gathered in this place. For neither Jennifer nor Auric had fully recovered from their injuries, yet would Randy Carter need to Heal Auric of his arm that he may use it during the coming days, for his was an injury healed best by time. Yet did Keilyndra Din Djanin try her skill with her blade, curved according to the manner of the Atha'an Miere, against the Blademaster Ulric Druss, and she learned much upon that morning. And the others looked to the ransacked cabin for supplies. And as they did seek, so they did find, for whosoever laid this place into disarray found it unseemly to remove any of its contents, save of those of which no word has been spoken. With full provisions had this place been stocked, yet were they for one person only. Much food was there for one man, yet were there many in this place, even unto ten. And few additional garments, furs or blankets were there to stand in place of those lost. Much equipment intended for use amongst the highest peaks were no longer, and this cabin contained little to serve in their stead. But those who knew of such things did take heart, in the sure belief that the arduous, now perilous journey into the heart of these mountains could succeed. For the child Haemish of the Taardad Aiel had been born in the Waste where nothing can long endure, yet have his people dwelt in that forbidding place for generations beyond memory. And Keilyndra Din Djanin of the Atha'an Miere, most skilled of her people in the ways of the land, she too feared not for herself or for her companions, and even Telas the Warder, new to this company, flinched not before the prospect of enduring the heights, the cold and air that satisfies not the lungs. Then did they depart from the hidden cabin, yet did they not know who had built it in this remote place, nor did they know who had disturbed it. On this day did the Mountains of Mist manifest their true nature, for the clouds hung low. And for but moments, did the mists part to enhance the splendor of this place, of the ancient forests and crags of Manetheren. But the mists prevailed save for those few moments, and one could not see a great distance, not even from an edge of the ancient road to its center. Difficult was this road to travel. Great had it been two thousand years in the past, and great was it still, save for the rocks and boulders than had fallen upon it, and the plants that had found a place to grow, and the dust of ages, borne by wind and storm. Only in it's ribbonlike width could it be known as a road, yet did the ease of travelling upon it far exceed that of venturing into the forest itself, and the trees which bore Phil great enmity. And after some time had passed, even drawing toward midday, did Keilyndra Din Djanin and Akhel, both adept in the art of scouting did find themselves in agreement that the company was being followed, yet was evidence of a silent pursuer lacking. Backward along their route did they search, cloaked in mist and silence, for they would find whosoever crept in their wake, yet was nothing found. And so they returned unto the others without having achieved their purpose, but sure in their forebodings. Almost certain were they of having seen, for but a moment, a dark and shadowed figure, yet could they not be sure. Now did the company travel in slow deliberation, filled with fear of an unknown and silent enemy, yet would even the most honest and forthright among them dismiss his fear as caution. Then was a clear sound of metal striking against something heard through the quiet, from a distance, and those not strangers to war knew it for the sound of mail against stone. And Ulric Druss, once captain of Tear who had forsaken his proud position and the endless war against his kin in Ilian for a lonely quest, then realized the fell purpose of those who did hound his footsteps and those of his companions. For the great captain is not he who wins the most battles, but he who wins the war with the least bloodshed. Beyond the mists was an enemy who also possessed this knowledge. Without raising blade, that foe did already strike fear into the hearts of these travellers. Without revealing his strength did he cause these companions to spend owntheir strength and endurance in endless searching and anxious peering into the blinding mists. Without showing his true purpose did he impede this company from their own, for their careful vigiliance did further slow their progress. Most cunning was this fell scheme, for Ulric knew that should their vigilance ever falter, then would his enemy emerge from hiding to win an easy battle, yet should they spend their strength seeking an enemy that would not show, still would utter defeat be the only conclusion. And so it was that Ulric Druss, once captain of Tear did cease his travel, in a place he deemed easily defended. Keilyndra Din Djanin, Akhel and Haemish did he set to scout at a distance, even as he prepared for battle. And Randy Carter did spend herself, that the others feel not the weariness of their journey, yet could she not do so on her own behalf, and Akhel did not submit to her ministrations. And even as the day drew onward, still was there no attacker. But Telas was certain of a dark and implacable foe, for he did notice the unmistakable presence of minions of the Dark Ones. Much, it is said, is gained by Warders through their bond to an Aes Sedai, not least is the ability to know the foul presence of the Dark One's minions, though not with great precision. Then did Akhel decide upon a course of action, to return unto the cabin along the path that they had taken, to discover what he might find in wait along the road and in the cabin. For little did escape Akhel's silent perusal, and his perusal extended further than his words. And so it was, much later, that Akhel turned from the cabin, after having found no disturbance there, or upon their route, that he was confronted by a figure shrouded in a dark cloak, and his laughter had the sound of crumbling leather, as he regarded Akhel. Beneath that withering scorn did Akhel flinch backward, yet did he face this enemy with the same calm that he bore toward all that had befallen him, noting aloud that there truly had been an unknown follower. Again did the inky figure laugh. And when Akhel asked of him his name and purpose the Myrddraal laughed once more, lowering his hood to reveal his terrible visage. Even in the Borderlands where the war against the Shadow is an overwhelming reality, and where brave men face its horrors with familiar contempt, it is said that the gaze of the Eyeless is Fear itself, for the Myrddraal lack eyes though their senses be keener than most men. But Akhel did not flinch before this fearsome presence, nor did fear numb his spirit. For he did look into the eyeless face of the Myrddraal, the sluglike misshapen putrefescence that served instead of a face, and now did he mock the Myrddraal, admitting that he should follow someone who can heal his deformity. With a serpent's grace did the Myrddraal bare his weapon, a dark blade forged in Thrakandar itself, if the tales hold true, and the Myrddraal did hold his anger, unused to the lack of fear, but no less deadly, no less terrible a foe. Approaching Akhel did the Myrddraal assure him that soon his sense of humor would be permanently repaired, yet did Akhel avoid the Myrrdraal with equal grace, throwing daggers with killing accuracy, yet was the Myrdraal only scratched. But Akhel lunged past the Myrddraal, running even as if his very life depended upon speed, for Akhel knew that it did. In dire pursuit did the Myrddraal follow, and foul Trollocs did join in the chase at its silent command. Long did Akhel run, returning to his companions, bringing with him the enemy they had sought, though they knew it not. With ragged breathing did Akhel run, not stopping even to count his pursuers in the concealing mists, for he did know them to be more numerous than he. And when he drew nigh unto the place where Ulric had arranged for a defense, then did he blow upon the horn given to him by Phil, and all knew that battle was forthcoming. And so it was that the foul Trollocs burst forth into the encampment, urged forward by bloodlust unquenchable and by the Myrdddraal behind them. Tall did the Trollocs stand, even as tall as Ogiers, head and shoulders above even the mightiest of warriors. Their bestial aspect did attest to the foulness of their creation, sprouting horns fangs and muzzles in different and disturbing combinations. Howling in their incomprehensible dark tongue did they rush forward, brandishing swords and polearms, each according to its nature. The foul Myrddraal, not least of the evil creations of the Dark One and the Forsaken, was as a force unto itself, deadly in its skill. Carefully did Telas the Warder aim and then let loose an arrow toward the Myrddraal, yet did the Myrddraal avoid the attempt as though it never was. With determination did Phil attempt to raise saidin, tainted by the Dark One, though some say the Dragon, during the War of Power that brought the Age of Legends to a close. Anger, Phil had learned, was the surest path to saidin. Thus had he consumed a tree in terrible flames under the direction of Ishmael. Yet could he not muster the fiery rage to bring destruction upon the Trollocs and upon the Myrddraal, for the baleful gaze of the Myrddraal reduced him to abject terror, and he did cringe before its foulness. And so it was that the Dark One's foul minions did engage these weary companions, battered by rain and crushed by rock. Yet were they met by a grim defense. For Ulric Druss quenched his fear and ventured forth to engage the Myrddraal on his own, for the Myrddraal are cunning adversaries with foul grace and the uncanny fortune of their dark master. Great was the Myrddraal's skill, yet that of Ulric Druss was by far the greater. But the oppressive fear of the Myrddraal worked its way into Ulric's heart, undermining his skill and resolve, and the Myrddraal did not die under his assault, yet was it sorely pressed. And Keilyndra Din Djanin of the Atha'an Miere ran forward into battle like the sharks of the sea who know nothing of caution. And so it was that she did engage eight Trollocs, and they did cease their progress toward the others, toward Randy Carter who fought not in battles, toward Auric, still unhealed of his injured arm and toward the gracious and noble scholar, Selene. Then did Keilyndra Din Djanin's thoughts turn from attack toward defense of her own person. Like a dolphin at play did she duck and dodge among the foul Trollocs sure of easy prey, yet was she in most desparate straits. With all her strength did she parry the crushing blows that did threaten to overwhelm her slender defense. Though Jennifer had brought forth her ter'angreal, forged in the distant Mirror of the Wheel called Earth, the ter'angreal called Nine Millimeter Semi Automatic Pistol, still did Keilyndra fight alone, for even as Jennifer did bring down one Trolloc after a time, yet was she sparing with her efforts, for she wished not mistakenly to slay her companion with her ter'angreal, and also did she know that soon would her ter'angreal function no longer upon this world. Armed with no weapon suited for battle, Akhel did hurl his last daggers amongst the Trollocs, piercing one between layers of mail. Yet did Akhel see that such fortune could not be relied upon even once, let alone twice, though his skill was great. For Akhel was not a man to rely upon fortune, upon the Light or the Dark, or upon aught unmanifest. But Telas did set aside his bow, and he did make his way toward the Trollocs who beset Keilyndra Din Djanin. Now did the Trollocs face another opponent, and even better versed in the bloody art of combat. Mustering his courage did Akhel also charge forward, brandishing his daggers, that he might at least divert the Trollocs' foul attention from Keilyndra Din Djanin, whose defense had already begun to falter. But Ulric Druss saw only the onrushing Trollocs that did seem to overwhelm Keilyndra Din Djanin like a dark tide. Setting aside his fear did he redouble his attack against the Myrddraal, to end its foul existence for this turn of the Wheel and turn his blade toward the hulking Trollocs. With skill and uncanny fortune did the Myrddraal cheat its doom, yet could not so long prevail. And so it was, even as the companions had joined together to attack the Trollocs and relieve the beleagred maiden of the Atha'an Miere, did Ulric Druss's blade strike down the Myrddraal, and it did flail upon the ground with misspent force. Then did the Trollocs also desist from their attack, for they had been linked to the Myrddraal through dark cunning, their insignificant intellects linked to the Myrddraal's dark mind. Bestupored did they fall to the ground to be dispatched. Then was their attention turned toward finding a new place to encamp for the night, a place unbefouled by Trolloc or Fade. And Ulric Druss, Blademaster and once captain of Tear did speak words of apology to Telas, who had fought with skill almost unto his own, if only briefly, for that was the way of his heart, to be opened unto his comrades in battle. And Telas did accept the word of Ulric Druss, saying that perhaps their chance meeting was to a purpose, a design woven into the pattern by the Wheel of Time. And as they set foot toward a new place of resting, and in preparing their camp according to the intent of Ulric Druss, once captain of Tear, the companions did speak of many things. And Phil did beseech Ulric Druss to speak of the flame and the void, which Ulric did invoke within to enhance his concentration. And Phil did attempt to gain the void through the flame, yet is this not attained in a day. And Randy Carter did weave Healing flows about and within Auric's arm, and then was she spent. Thus did the sun set hidden amonst the mists and fogs of the mountain heights, and sleep did overtake all of the company, save those who each in turn stood in careful vigilance. And then did the new day dawn for all, save Phil of Earth. For Phil did find himself in a new and terrible place, a vast plain of slag, crushed rock and bitter salt, even as the sun did large and red rise above the horizon. Naked of clouds was the sky. Already did Phil feel upon his skin the dry heat of this place, even as this wrathful day dawn, as it had done in Ages past and shall again dawn in Ages to come. Neither to the right nor to the left, before him or behind, was there a place of refuge from the sun, still ruddy with the dawn. And Phil did look about himself but knew not where he was. For his world, his home, his place called Earth had many desolate places, and now did Phil know that his world was one of many. Yet did Phil know this place, that this place was not new to him. In his pocket lay a map of this desolate waste, even marked by his own hand with the place where he stood. But the map brought much despair and little hope, for the nearest shade lay two days in the future. Without food, without water, without equipment of any kind, little future could Phil see for himself, save his own death within the day. Yet if this was his doom, to die in a strange land, would he meet it standing upon his feet, taking step after step until mere flesh failed. And so it was that time took new meaning upon itself, measured in the slow rise of the sun into the blue cauldron of sky, measured by each stumbling step along the rough ground below, and measured by the breath of air within, each hotter than the one before. Then did the world reduce itself to its fundamentals, the broken rock below and the terrible Light above. Once, in a comfortable chamber cooled by the mysterious ter'angreal of the people of Earth, did Phil listen to the teaching of a wise man who spoke of surviving in a place like this. And the man spoke of many precautions to be taken while awaiting succor, yet did Phil now realize that he had not the tools to take such action, and that he could expect no rescue. His skin baked by the terrible blaze of the sun, his lips parched and bleeding, his throat parched and his mind numbed by the seering furnace of rock and sky, Phil knew his death was soon upon him. Thinking himself in Dream, and remembering the stories of Jennifer and Randy Carter, did he imagine for himself a drink, cool and wet, yet was Phil not a Dreamer, nor could he know himself in Dream for certain. For in this time and in this place there was no drink to be had, neither warm or cold, unless Phil embraced madness, the madness of the desert wherein all things can be seen but never had. Far easier would that death be than the one that awaited him not a single day distant. But once did Phil stand forward and swear an oath to do his best, and by his honor he did swear this oath. Never before had Phil betrayed his word, nor would he do so now. Thus did continue, each step a trial of strength and a test of endurance long gone. Until finally with the very last of his being did he unbow his head and cease his trudging, for if he would fall over and die, then first would he look up unto the heavens from whence his death did come, and then fall, dead, but unbowed. And so it was that in the distance yet not too far, did Phil behold a great wonder. For there, alone in this wilderness did there grow a vast oak tree. The leaves of that tree were broad and green, and its branches did extend outward from its great trunk. By such a tree surely would shade and water be found, and life itself. No evil intent did this tree bear Phil. Then did Phil drag himself across the rock and sand and salt, unto the comforting shade of the oak, and a small pond of water that brought much needed comfort. Time itself was no longer, beneath the tree, beside the pond, for time was a slave to the sun arching across the heavens, measured by labored breath and travel. Here was Phil protected from all the ravages of time. And so it was perhaps moments, perhaps eternities later that Phil did know himself not alone in this place of life. For a voice did Phil hear, a voice not unknown to him, and in a gentle, protective tone did that voice speak. "There is something to be said for Shadow, don't you think?" Against the bole of the tree did Ishmael sit, regarding Phil. And still was Phil weakened from his ordeal, though no longer staggering across Death's threshold. Yet did he defy Ishmael, and not fully acknowledge his question, though the sun now did descend below the horizon, bringing cool darkness to comfort Phil, still burned from the sun. But Ishmael would not be denied, and asked Phil to speak of his world and his beliefs. And Phil spoke of his love for the Creator, a being of Truth and Life manifest in all of creation. And Phil declared his love for the Creator to be greater than life itself. And Ishmael responded, "Of course, of course. Nothing else would be proper. Come with me, and let us look upon Creation. Is there a particular city you love? A particular place?" Though Phil did not trust Ishmael, yet did Ishmael assure Phil that he would do nothing untoward. And so it was that Phil named a place, the top of a great mountain in one of the Groves of his people. But Ishmael said, "Ishmael says, "That is a pretty place, but I don't think that would work. A city would be best, I think. Or should I pick it?" Then did Phil pause in uncertainty and consternation, for he understood not Ishmael's intent yet did he fear it, nor did he know whether to choose a city or to leave the decision to Ishmael. Better to choose. "Rome?" But still he was uncertain, and curious. And Ishmael laughed in friendship. "Rome it is, then. I've never been there, Phil, but the place has outgrown it's seven hills. Still, we should be able to get a good view. Come." And so it was that Phil found within himself the strength to stand beside Ishmael and even follow, for he had been refreshed by the time spent beneath the tree. Together they did travel through the cool and pleasant night, every step traversing leagues of distance, until Ishmael stops and sits himself upon a grassy hillside, even as the sky begins to brighten with yet another day. Below Phil was the city Rome arrayed in all its magnificence. Ancient was this city, and much had it seen. Once it had been the greatest city of Phil's world, two thousand years before Phil was born. Once was Rome the center of the world. It was said that all roads led unto this city, even as Phil and Ishmael found themselves just outide its precincts. In later years, after the empire that gave this city birth had fallen, still was this city considered by many the center of all that is great and important. Some loved Rome and its ways, while others despised her as one would a harlot. Some held Rome to be the center of Light, while others saw only within her impenetrable Dark. But through much of the history of Phil's world and Phil's people, there was none to deny that Rome and that for which she stood was at the center of all things. The remnants of this cities ancient grandeur remained for Phil to behold. In centuries gone by were magnificent edifices erected in this place, for purposes noble and fell, and they were built without the One Power, nor were they constructed through the cunning arts of the people of Earth. Also was there a great city of the present in Rome, still great though no longer considered among the greatest of the cities of Earth. Also was it said that Rome was not built in a day, and two thousand five hundred years of history remembered in rock, brick and steel did attest to this truth. And the sun rose above the horizon, casting the city in its most wondrous aspect. "What do you think, Phil?" "Very impressive." And Ishmael frowned. "Impressive? Is that all?" "er...magnificent?" Then did Ishmael shake his head in sadness, even as the Light descended upon the city and consumed it utterly. And Phil did look upon the light, and in his heart he named it a Thermonuclear Explosion. Above the burning ruins did a cloud rear itself in the shape of a vast mushroom. Surely should Phil have died, or been stricken blind, yet did he feel only a warm breeze waft forth from what once was Rome. And Phil regarded the city, and saw that it was not. A single tear began to form in Phil's eye, even as Ishmael waited for him to speak. Finally did Phil find for himself words. "Ishmael, you have been very polite, and very civil...but you've proved your point. You are very powerful...certainly more powerful than I; but I am afraid that you just answered any doubt I had in my mind whatsoever. There is no way, in any form, in any degree, in any shadow of a degree that I will ever serve you. I may go mad, I may kill all of my friends, but at least I will die with the satisfaction that I didn't say yes to your previous question." "I don't think you understand, Phil. I didn't do that. You and your Light did." But Phil would have none of Ishmael's words. "I don't belive you." Then did Ishmael sigh, as though he had been patient beyond endurance yet was he patient still. "If it were my objective to destroy, and I could do this, I wouldn't be here with you, I don't think. I would be blasting worlds and galaxies into oblivion. If I wanted your soul, Phil, I wouldn't be so... forthright with you. "You would never see my power. You would fall in love with me, and blindly agree to my every word, after a time. Deceiving the good is easy. That's not my purpose. But if a single tear is all you can shed for mighty Rome, then perhaps you are useless to me after all. Your heart has hardened. Go, kill off your friends. You have a new world to destroy, as you have done for this one." With anger did Phil protest the word of Ishmael. For he said that he shed but a single tear for he believed not that this was truly Rome, but a phantasm created by Ishmael to frighten him, and that were this truly Rome, still could he have done nothing to stop it. But Ishmael despised Phil and his weak words, for he knew that Phil had once cried long and hard over the death of his wife, though he could not have stood in the way of that, whereas Rome he could save, would he but listen. Then did he banish Phil from before him, and Phil returned to his slumber. And in the morning, even as the companions did prepare to continue upon their journey, did Phil strive to reach the void through the flame. Long and hard did he strive in his madness and despair, though it is said that the void cannot be grabbed or wrestled with like a bear, or even like saidin, male portion of the One Power tainted by the Dark One, though some say the Dragon, during the War of Power that brought the Age of Legends to its close. But finally did Phil purge himself of all that he was, and for a moment gained the void, consuming all that he was in the flame of his mind. Yet upon returning from that place did he find that much time had passed. Happy was he to have achieved his desire, yet had he again assumed all that he was, for the void has no power in its own right, nor can one leave within it that which one has brought in.