Alathea squeezes Kodokura's hand tighter before letting it go. "I know that what you have lost is something that cannot be Healed, and for that, I am sorry. But there is more to you than what you have lost, yes? What did you do before you found out about what you could do?" She pauses, but before Kodokura can respond, she adds, "I lived on a farm, yes? My father sent me away into Ebou Dar when he found out. He is afraid that our family was tainted, and did not want to be reminded every time he looked at me, yes?"
Kodokura looks at his feet as he continues to walk, then snorts. "I was a poor warrior, and a worse son. All my father wanted was a true son of Shienar. Instead, he got an unskilled dreamer, who turned out to be... tainted by the Power. If there was one thing he admired me for, it was my dedication to duty. When I realised... what I was, I fled without warning."
Kodo looks to the horizon, attempting to maintain a stoic expression. "Now, I cannot even fulfil the one duty remaining to me."
"I am nothing."
Kodokura drops his head wearily and continues trudging along with the rest of the group.
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass leaving memories that become legend, then fade to myth, and are long forgot when that Age comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose within the Aiel Waste. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
West the wind blew, hot, dry, kicking up sand, it creates a vast sandstorm that engulfs the entire Aiel Waste. Smashing itself upon the rock face of the Spine, it slows, allowing the sand to drift to the ground, covering everything in a fine cover of dust. Slowly now, this wind blows gently up and over the Spine, and begins the long descent downward, to the western grasslands of Cairhein.
Blowing gently, the airid wind whisks past wild fields of grain and wheat, evidence of early settlement attempts. The occasional ruin of a homesteaders house dots the landscape, creating a musical howl to the breeze. Passing further inland, away from the Spine, the wind grows cold, fed by a breeze from the north. Westward this wind goes, chilling the land.
The wind blows upon Cairhein, home of the Sun Throne, home of the unfinished towers; it blows through the Foregate and into the city proper. Its cold chill is a welcome relief to the previous months of intense heat. Through streets paved in stone, it flows towards a massive structure found within the city. A palace, whose tallest peaks fly a pair of flags, one flag is the golden sun of Cairhein, another is the Sun with the dragons fang. The wind gently blows these symbols of power, making them flutter and wave.
The wind blows through the windows and doors of the palace, making candles flicker, lanterns swing, and people sigh. The breeze is a good breeze, cooling those that it meets.
Down a long corridor it blows, and passes under the lip of a closed door. Inside stand several men, suited in chainmail armour, pristine white tabards and cloaks drape them, identifying who they are. They stand around a group of 5 individuals, 3 men and two women. An odd assortment of adventurers, two Aiel, a wolflord, a swordsman, and what looks to be a lover to the swordsman, stand before a tall man, sitting upon a throne, raised upon a dais.
So, what I have in front of me is a pair of Aiel searching for someone, a wolflord, a man who claims to be Asha'man, and a plain woman. You all show up in the middle of the Noble's park, next to the Runic Column, with another woman who is unconscious, another who apparently is a Darkfriend, and a Fade as well. Oh, and lets not mention the large stash of Ter'angreal, angreal, and Sa'Angreal that this half naked comatose woman had upon her. Now, because of the Aiel, and the wolflord claims, I havent decided to give you over to the Questioners, yet. Lord Ryland here is definitly not a Darkfriend. But you others, I cannot say for certain. There is something odd going on here, and I demand to know what has happened. I want the truth! He finishes, slamming his fist into the arm rest of the throne.
"The truth? The truth is that we do not know the truth of what happened to us. I will tell you the truth, though you will likely think me mad."
"We were fighting a group of darkfriends within the basement of a manor house in Cairhein. The center of the room contained a pillar; a tall stone obelisk with coloured bands around the base and many small pictures and symbols. The woman darkfriend could channel. She was about to be defeated and she screamed that she would destroy us all rather than die alone. She laid her hands on the pillar, and then... everything went dark."
"We woke with you and your men here. And everything is different. To us, it seems as though all history has been rewritten. It is as if what the woman did at that pillar rearranged the pattern like the breaking rearranged the world."
"For instance, before the change, you were the the one the wetlanders call the Dragon reborn, not Taim. Men were the one's whose use of the power drove them mad, not women. I cannot understand what might have caused these changes, but to us, all of this is wrong."
al'Thor studies Rhoekk for long moments, drumming his fingers upon his armrest. Looking over everyone, he nods to himself.
Standing up, he steps down from the Dais, and begins to walk amongst you, checking you over, inspecting you. Stopping by Kodokura, he hisses in shock.
YOU! I sense a hollowness, as if something has cut you, yet it is a cut of the soul inside. You were able to channel? Yes, of course you were. And now it is gone. Shocking. A man hasn't been severed for the last 2,000 years. Sure, some have burnt themselves out, but never severed. Fascinating...
He reaches out, and puts his hands upon Kodokura's head. An icy feeling courses through Kodokura, from head to toe.
And you say you were an, asha'man, wasnt it? In this different realm? Fascinating.
stepping away from Kodokura, he steps up next to Alathea. And in your realm, I was the Dragon Reborn? And not just Dragon? Fascinating indeed.
A far off look overcomes his features, as if thinking to himself.
Focusing in upon Alathea, his eyes penetrating and alluring, he asks a question in general, to everyone.
So, if in your realm, men were the ones who went mad from the Taint, What about the women who could channel, what have they wrought upon the world?
Alathea returns this Al'Thor's gaze. Instead of answering his most recent question, however, she says, "This man was Severed by the Darkfriend channeler that Rhoekk spoke of. It is one of many crimes she must answer for, but one of her worst, yes? Rhoekk's other words are true, as well. I do not understand how, but all of those things are different here."
Reaching out, Lord al'Thor gently touches Alathea's chin, as a lover who is about to kiss...
In a soft voice, meant for Alathea's ears only, he whispers
Perhaps you and I shall discuss our... differences later, over dinner, perhaps?
Stepping away, he agrees Indeed, you are correct lady. Any woman who severs a man must be brought to justice. For her to sever a man leads to her being burned at the stake, for a month. A much more harsh punishment than the one for a woman who can channel, which of course is death by hanging.
The former Asha'man barely notices when al'Thor addresses him, but he shivers slightly under the icy weave.
Through the haze of his pain and loss, Kodo hears al'Thor's last statement. He stifles the urge to look at Alathea in alarm when al'Thor says "death by hanging".
Alathea smiles coyly at this Al'Thor's whispered insinuations and allows herself to feel her desire. It has been too long, yes? And after so much fear, so much duty, perhaps I could use another's touch. But his next words dash away any attraction that she might have felt. The smile runs away from her face, and she replies in a cold tone. "I doubt that you would find our differences agreeable, my Lord. As for the woman, I do not disagree that she should die. But if you are to torture her like you speak of, you will be little better than her, yes?"
Fiallain keeps her countenance deliberately still and impassive throughout the exchanges between the others. She studies Al'thor as openly as he does her. "How will you hunt her now, with the trail gone cold?"
His awareness drawn back into the present, Kodokura glances at Alathea and Fia as they speak to al'Thor, worried about the reaction the tone of their voices may bring.
His eyes grow cold, harder than stones, as they look directly at Alathea.
Hardly. They are the abomination! What they get is Justice!
Stepping away from Alathea, he turns to Fiallain. Who? The woman who got away? Right now, a group of my best Sniffers are tracking her down. Those dedicated to the Dark One, those of exceptional value, have a taint to their scent, making it easy for a sniffer to track. Those that just swore the oaths, do not. I expect that we shall find this woman in no time.
Making a motion with his hand, one of the guards approaches.
Pointing at Alathea, Lord al'Thor commands Take this one first for questioning. The others, lock up in holding cells until they are called to the Seeker. These two, are free to roam.
Looking at Ryland and Rhoekk, he motions them to step away from the rest.
Please gentlemen, join me for drinks in the courtyard. I wish to learn more about your difficulties against these Darkfriends. ANd please, do not concern yourself over these questions; if your friends are not darkfriends, then they shall be free to go.
"If someone must be questioned, I insist you start with me. These men and women have proven themselves true, and are no darkfriends. If you doubt them, you must doubt me. I cannot stand by at let you harm one who is under my protection."
Alathea steps forward and holds up, as best she can, a manacled hand. Facing this Al'Thor, she narrows her eyes and speaks loudly enough for all to hear. "No, Rhoekk. I have nothing to hide from the likes of this man, yes? I will go." She turns expectantly towards the guard holding her chain. "Lead me towards this questioning, then."
"How many people have you put to the question, and how many of those have you decided had not been darkfriends?"
Looking at Ryland, Lord al'Thor replies simply Ive put over 400 people to the question. Out of those, only 10 have been Darkfriends.
Looking at everyone, he continues
You look surprised. What, you think we force a person to admit that they are a darkfriend just to save them from the torture? Peace, we dont use torture. We use a simple device actually. Its a chair. Person sits down in it, swears to tell the truth, and the chair forces them to tell the truth. Over and done with in 10 minutes. One great side effect of the chair though, is that it doesnt affect channelers, either male or female. So its great tool to find potential recruits, or the Taint.
Fia looks at him with a perplexed expression. "If this chair has no affect on those who channel, what is to keep them from simply lying to get their way? Who would know,unless it also somehow reveals to others that the person sitting is not under its influence?"
At this Al'Thor's words, Alathea cannot help but to stop and fails to repress a shudder. But to back away now would only prove that she has secrets to hide. If I must be hanged by this man, I will not give him the satisfaction of begging not to be questioned! Steeling herself, she again follows the guard, but her steps are hesitant. She looks back at her companions, for perhaps the last time.
Smiling at Fia, al'thor pulls out a narrow rod, about 2 feet in length, appears to be made out of Ivory. seven / marks appear along the length of it. Because, I have an Oath Rod that we force channelers to swear to.
Ryland frowns at the young lord. "Where we are from The Children's questioning is less... well you can say they find darkfriends where ever they look for them."
"I see, most interesting." Fia eyes the oath rod casually then shrugs. Her eyes find Alathea's and she nods, willing strength and encouragement to her friend. Steady, Alathea. At least he is not having us swear on that thing in his hands. Perhaps that is a sign he does not yet suspect us of that. Perhaps...
One thing though, Rand bloody al'Thor who is not Rand bloody Al'Thor... If it comes to it, I will not end hanged like some common wetlander criminal. That, I can promise you.
When Lord Al'Thor's attention is elsewhere, she signs to Rhoekk. Whatever may happen here, take the others and find a way back home. Return to serve our people and the Car'a'Carn.
Kodokura steps forward slowly. "Lord al'Thor. I was your loyal servant before we... came here. Your orders caused my current... situation. Please, allow me to be questioned first. I have nothing left to me. Allow me the honour of proving my loyalty now that I can... no longer channel."
Kodo's voice quavers slowly near the end of his request, but strengthens as he finishes, and he stands tall, eyes forward.
Perhaps I can buy the women some time to escape. I have nothing left. If all I can do is be rid of these manacles, then die fighting while they escape, so be it. Father, you would be proud of this.
al'Thor shouts, his voice echoing painfully off the stone walls, making you involuntarily cringe at the sheer ferocity of his shout.
Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he pauses momentarily before continuing.
Enough. I understand that you all are fiercely loyal, and you all wish to go first in the testing. But, I have chosen, and it is done. From the adamant volunteering going on, I think I have chosen the proper person to go first for Questioning. Take her He instructs.
A soldier grabs Alathea by the arm and guides her towards the door...
Alathea shakes her head at her companions. "This will not take long, yes?" Turning back to the soldier, she walks willingly towards the door as he leads her away.
Light! Fate will not even allow me that honour! Well, there is only one thing I can do, one thing I can offer. All that remains is to pick the right moment. Kodokura steels himself to do whatever must be done to protect and aid the escae of his companions, particularly the female channellers.
Lighter than a feather...
First is Alathea, then the rest are led to their holding cells.
Woman for questioning.The guard says to his counterparts.
Noted. We have the Woman. The two say, stepping forward and each grabbing firmly onto your arms.
As the Soldier walks away, the door is opened and the two soldiers lead you inside a large room. Torches flicker upon the walls at even intervals, showing plainess and utility for this room. Off to your right is a desk, upon which sit 2 lanterns casting a large amount of light upon its contents. Books, papers, a pair of manacles sit atop the table.
An old man comes walking in from opposite side of the room, adjusting his armor and trousers. A large smile creeps along his face as his eyes fall upon Alathea.
Oh another to be questioned. Perhaps she will be more fiesty than the last, eh brothers? The man says, his voice cracking, his tone and inflection sounding like slime and curdeled goats milk. A sick revulsion fights its way up your throat as you gaze upon your interrigator, and realize that he has yet to look at your face, but only stares at your body.
Put her on the chair he commands as he walks to his table.
Your eyes are drawn away from the sick old man and to the thing that couldnt hold your attention. The Chair. It is brown with bright red flecks. The closer you get to the thing, you see that it isnt made of wood, but stone. The arms and front legs of the chair have straps attached to them, for subduing those to be questioned. A head strap hangs off the back, cracked from age and disuse. As you get closer, you cannot help but remember al'thors words
It does not affect male or female channelers.
Still maintaining an air of calm, you allow yourself to be led to the chair and sat upon it. The soldiers deftly catch your wrists and strap your hands and feet down.
A coughing noise forces your attention to the left, to the table, you see the old man. He struggles to pull his tabard over his armor, and while you watch, you see an interesting change between his and the guards tabards. His has the golden sun and dragon fang, but also a shield under the dragon fang.
Coughing and spitting phlem upon the floor, the old man turns and struts to the chair.
She is rather pretty. he mummers to himself.
right, lets begin. Brothers, stand at your stations, and i shall now perform the Rites of Questioning He says.
Immediately the two guardsmen step up next to alathea, draw daggers, and press them firmly to either side of her neck. The location is precise, the points rest upon the arteries that run up and down the neck.
Brothers, we have here today a woman, a woman accused of being a darkfriend. As you know, being a friend of the dark is the second greatest threat to the peace upon the land, and the Dragon's rule. As we all know, the greatest threat is the female channeler, the female wilder, the wilding. She subverts, corrupts good honest male channelers, and coverts with the Dark One himself. Her taint is a taint upon the land, and must be extinguished. Yet, from this taint, we get the Darkfriend, the one who worships the Dark One, seeks immortality, riches, power. We, the Children of the Dragon, are the only bastion against these witches, these feral women of the dark arts, these harlots. We have been blessed with certain items, these ter'angreal, that allow us to properly assuage guilt or innocence. It has been so since Lew Therin Thalamon. Brothers, are we ready?
The two nod.
Then i shall begin the old man says, going silent and concentrating, his gaze falling upon Alathea's body once more.
The interrogator's words do nothing to soothe Alathea's fears. A woman channeling is worse than a Darkfriend? Even the least tolerant of the Red Ajah cannot say that about men channeling, yes? What madness fills this place? Subversion, corruption? Harlots? It as if these fools fear women, to say nothing of saidar!
Alathea remains silent as the interrogator pronounces his readiness although she is bursting with angry words, if for no other reason than to prevent herself from goading these men into violence. Instead, she seeks her inner calm and prepares to surrender to saidar, should her situation become more desperate.
His eyes narrow, and his hand stretches out, and begins to outline the shape of your body, from head to toe, side to side. You feel a strange sense of something, a cool caress, press itself upon your skin. Your skin reacts immediately; goose bumps appear on exposed skin, your breath catches in your throat as you realize that a man is channeling, and you are on the receiving end.
His movements are steady, yet go in a precise order, as if sweeping your body clear of something. At times he mutters, unintelligble words.
Finally, his hand drops to his side, he stands straight, and all sense of the lecherous old guy is gone, replaced by a serious, yet slightly insane look upon his face.
Brothers...We have a WITCH
The walk through the palace would be enjoyable, if it wasnt your Jail, and you didnt have manacles upon your wrists. Sea Folk Porcelin decorate tables and alcoves all along the halls. Flowing gold script forms a runner of sorts along the walls, telling the tales of ancient heros who fought against the Dark One, and against the female channeler. Turning a corner, you are shocked to see one entire length of wall, stretching for over 100 feet, discolored, the gold removed, the marble reground in some areas. Given the reverence this place has towards those that fought the Dark One and the Female channeler, it is very odd that this wall is devoid of devotion. Towards the end of the hall, hanging upon the wall, is a plaque. A sheet of copper, green from age, displays a warning towards those who stride past.
Beware the free thinker.
Beware the open mind
al'Thor waits until the door closes before talking to Ryland and Rhoekk.
Ringing a servant, he asks for chilled wine and dates to be brought, along with water and towels.
[b]So, this place you come from, you say that these Children see darkfriends all over, everywhere they look. Seems like an odd way to operate. Tell me, are they in command of your world? Do they control these lands like we do here? How do they view the taint on their side? Do they prosecute the tainted female?
al'Thor waits until the door closes before talking to Ryland and Rhoekk.
Ringing a servant, he asks for chilled wine and dates to be brought, along with water and towels.
So, this place you come from, you say that these Children see darkfriends all over, everywhere they look. Seems like an odd way to operate. Tell me, are they in command of your world? Do they control these lands like we do here? How do they view the taint on their side? Do they prosecute the tainted female?
Walking along confidently, as if unconcerned with the predicament, she seems on the surface completely at ease, as if the manacles on her wrist were but ornamental bracelets she chose that morning to wear and the guardsmen her tourguides. Turning the corner into the discolored hall, she lifts an eyebrow in surprise at the sudden change in decor. Beware the free thinker? What sort of proverb is that? Hardly promising. Turning, she asks, "Soldier, what is this place? Why is it in such a state of disrepair?"
"I am a stranger in the wetlands, so I do not understand the nuances of such things, but my impression is that they control little. There are many nations where we came from, each with its own king or queen. The Children of the Light are beholden to no nation, and seem to consider themselves a force unto themselves. They claim their quest is to root out darkfriends, but they use torture to extract confessions, and so anyone accused is also convicted. However, despite the danger they represent to individuals, on the whole they seem to be treated as more of a nuisance. Attitudes towards them are like those towards a hungry feral dog. It is dangerous to children, or perhaps someone alone, but on the whole, pathetic. They do have an army however, and their presence in the world has endured. To know anything more specific about the politics, you'd have to ask Ryland."
"As for weilders of the power, remember, our world is different. There, it was the male channelers who were destined for madness. The female channelers are the only one's who can channel safely. It is they who hold Tar Valon and hunt down men who can channel and sever them, as you say. Men who can channel are feared, for in the days of madness that followed Lew Therin, they broke the world. Legends say they raised mountains from seabeds and tore plains asunder with rifts until you would not recognize the world."
"The Children do persecute channelers, for they blame all of them for the breaking. They hunt the men and women alike, and call them darkfriends. They are fools."
The two guards pause at Fia's question. Both look at each other, and finally one nods at the other. The other, who holds Kodokura, addresses Fia. This is known at the traitors wall. One Child of the Dragon, instead of doing his duty, decided to cast off all that he believed in and went rogue. He became a menace to the Children; at first kidnapping local officials, people who he knew. But, he took it a step too far and gathered a following. This following became an army, and this army was able to defeat the Children at every twist and turn. The Children would get reports that he was in one location, only to have his army in another location prepped for ambush. He was everywhere, like a bird in flight. Hence how he got his nickname Hawkwing. He stood up against the Children and the Lord Dragon, all because his wife was to be executed for being a channeler. Artur Hawkwing, next in line to be a Dragon himself, threw it all away for love of the corrupt, the witch, the female channeler.
Lord al'thor nods. Interesting. They are viewed as feral dogs, ignored until they latch onto you. Oh to have that reputation.
Stepping away from the men, he approaches his throne and takes a seat.
So in your world, Men have the taint. How are they treated? I doubt that they would be looked up to for guidance and security, especially the way that fair maiden looked at me. Timid yet revolted. An interesting look, to say the least.
He looks away absently, in a direction away from the doors, over your heads. It has begun I see.
Focusing back upon the two men, he asks simply The fellow in black, with the pins, he claimed that in your world, I was the leader. That I was the Dragon Reborn. If that is true, tell me about...myself