|Occupation||Asha'man of the Yellow Ajah|
|Affiliation||The Grey Tower|
|Affinities||Spirit, Air, Fire, Earth, Water|
Caddoc is dark of hair, and green of eyes, as well as tall. Twin brother to Latonia Svan, he is dark looking while she his light, however, despite that, they look very similar. Sharing the same high cheek bones and handsome/beautiful features, when standing side by side it is easy to tell that they are siblings.
Caddoc holds himself quietly, taught to fight since a young boy, he normally stands with his hand near the sword on his hip and his eyes training the crowd for a threat to his life. He is rather paranoid, constantly looking over his shoulder, but he hides this nervous habit well. Preferring to listen instead of speak, he often keeps his own council.
Face screwed up in a serious expression that he hoped looked courageous, hoped to the Creator that it hid his true fear, Caddoc wheeled his house around, facing the enemy. He could still feel his sister's eyes upon his back, could hear her stifled tears even over the sound of horses hooves and the pounding of his own heart. That was how it always was, his attention focused more upon his sister than even his own safety, that was, he believed, only right. His father had often ridiculed him for his devotion towards her, and every time he did, Caddoc fell for the bait, lost his temper, and gave his father a reason to beat him, as if he needed one.
Run Lotte, He willed feverishly to his twin, Run and don't turn around. Be safe.
His horse galloped towards the enemy, heedless of his inner fear, of his doubts, drawing him ever closer to those that threatened his life, and worse, those that threatened Lotte's life, as well.
Opening himself to Saidin, he was immediately doused in the torrential, raging, river of fire that was the male half of the One Power. It threatened to tear him from the horse's back and bear him beneath its power. From sheer force of will, he held onto himself and reigned it into his amateur grasp. He kne the Channelers he rode to meet were far superior to him, however. His only hope was sheer power, and the fact that he cared nothing for his own safety. Let him burn himself out, let him die, it did not matter, as long as Latonia was safe. Teeth gritted in a rictus grin of exertion, Caddoc seized threads of fire and spirit, weaving them as large as he could. He saw his enemies wheel their horses suddenly to one side, shouts breaking from them. He felt a great heat building around him, spreading out quickly as the weaves shot towards the riders. Horse and men burned, screams of pain and rage falling deaf upon Caddoc's young, but callous ears. He felt, too, as Saidin began to rest from his control, the flames climbing to the sky, and the One Power turning to consume him as well.
In th back of his mind he felt tension, strangely unrelated to the situation.
Then the hairs on the back of his neck rose and, with great effort, he jerked his head to the side, eyes wide. There were women somewhere, somewhere near! And they were channeling! Beyond surprise, Caddoc watched as illusions were cast aside like ripples in water. Beyond the ripples were revealed women, three of them. Before Caddoc could respond, the sensation of iron fetters wrap ped themselves around his arms, pining them to his side, and his chest. Unable to balance, he fell from the horse, and the women let him. As he hit the ground, along with a shattering shoulder, he felt a shield slam about him, cutting him off from the One Power and, probably, saving his life.
For a moment in the hill lands that Caddoc had made his stand in there was nothing but silence. Then it was slowly filled with the pantings of four people. Caddoc began to struggle in his bonds. It did him no good, he was held still by the invisible force of Saidar, and now, his legs were added to it, forced together and held impossibly still by an uncaring hand. It hurt. In pain and fear, Caddoc struggled to turn his face out of the dirt, to breath. He was spared this struggle by a sudden booted foot colliding with his ribs and flipping him over. He behind his captors clearly for the first time.
In dawning horror, his green eyes beheld three figures dressed in varying amount of red. One woman, her features small and un-amazing, simply held a red shawl about her shoulders. Beside her stood a woman completely decked out in a red dress, crimson from her hair down to her slippered feet. Her face was pinched into an expression that said she spied something disgusting, or smelled something foul. It was the woman standing closest to him, however, in front of her colleagues, that held Caddoc's attention. Clad in ebony from shoulders down to her ankles, the stitching of her dress were a vibrant, pregnant shade of scarlet. Standing, Caddoc guessed that she would barely reach his shoulders. She stood there, fists curled loosely on her hips, watching him. She watched him silently, her expression calm and curious, though alien. She seemed to see him as some interesting, but ultimately harmless, species of insect. She looked at him as if he wasn't human at all. After a moment her blue eyes turned to the other two women, and she spoke. Her Illian accent even now made Caddoc sneer as she addressed them, despite the way his heart pounded in his chest.
“Do you be ready, sisters?” She asked lightly, and they nodded. All unconcerned, all unafraid. All in a days work.
How to describe the pain of being severed? How to put into words the internal agony of having something ripped from the very fabric of your being? Caddoc screamed as the sisters closed in on him, as he felt Saidar touching him again. He didn't have a choice, really, the screams were wrung from him like water from a cloth, and after awhile he heard them no more. He only felt the pain, and saw the Red Sisters crowded about him. Afterwards, when the Red Sisters had drawn away from him, their duty done, Caddoc expected them to leave him be, to leave him to die. They did not, however.
“You, Sisia.” Said the one encased in black, “You be tyeing him up and making sure he no be hurting himself.” The pinch faced one nodded, and moved to do as she was commanded. The black one moved away from them, leaving the small one to watch quietly.
Caddoc was bound and tied, hands behind his back, ankles together. He fought in his bonds, finally free of the Iron fetters of the One Power, and glared at his captors. The black clad one returned with three horses and, with the One Power, Caddoc was unceremoniously slung onto the back of one of the horses and tied in place like some worthless potato sack. He did not care. He felt hollowed out, a piece of what he had been mere moments ago. He could still feel the presence of the One Power, but it was eternally out of his reach, just over his shoulder, passed his finger tips. He could not get to it. He was silent as they rode away, not attempting, nor thinking, or escape at all.
Throughout the rest of the day, they rode, and hardly ever spoke, but as day turned to night, and it began to grow dark, they pulled up as one and paused. “We'll set up camp here for the night.” The black clad one said. Caddoc was stuffed into a tent, once it was up, and left alone. Until the camp was fully up and the Aes Sedai had fed themselves, that was.
“You may call me Thiana.” Said the black clad woman as she entered the tent, a steaming bowl of soup in one hand, a glass of water in the other. Caddoc only watched her quietly. She sat the bowl near to him, a twisted smile upon her lips. Her eyes climbed him up, then down. Caddoc paid attention to none of it, simply gazing at the ground before him, ignoring, even, the growl of his stomach as it reacted to the scent of the soup. His eyes were distant and it seemed as if the inner fire he had felt had run out completely, as if he were only alive because his heart continued to beat.
“You do be quite the pain in our arses.” Thiana said as she sat herself close. Caddoc sneered quietly at her accent, but said nothing, not raising his eyes. Go away, he thought to himself, go away and leave me alone. Or just kill me and get it over with... But Thiana did not go away, she sat near him, watching him breath. Then he felt a hand at his collar, plucking the buttons there. He lifted his head, hatred and surprise at this action flashing through his eyes. Thiana chuckled.
“There it be...” She said, smirking, “I knew you do be feeling something in there...” She closed in, beginning to undo the buttons down his shirt. He rocked back and forth, attempting to shake her off, but it was to no avail. He was tied to a post in the middle of the tent, and could defend himself in no way. He learned that night that Thiana was a sadist as well as a pervert, and when she finally left him alone, he was light headed from blood loss, body still shuddering in the pain he was left to wallow in, and disgusted with himself, as well as her. A deep hatred the likes of which he had never felt before, even towards his father, had begun to burn within his guts. He shivered in the cold, having been deprived of his clothing.
He spent almost six months in Thiana's clutches, a whim to her twisted desires, and a play thing for her darker needs. His body, already scarred from his father's beatings, was now marked with tale tale signs of a whip, and several different kinds of blades, even in places the marks of fire touched him. He was never healed after this, and it was only the fact that she had obviously done this for quite awhile that forced him to stay alive. He was never untied, never allowed to run free or walk. His body deteriorated, his health faded, and the handsome quality of his looks began to recede. When that happened, Thiana finally began to tire of him.
“Pallas.” Thiana's voice barked as she entered the small building, Caddoc in tow. The man stumbled as he moved, not used to walking, hardly ever allowed out of the tents or basements or where ever he had been placed for 'safe keeping'. The shop around him looked like an apothecary's shop, filled with strange bottles of macabre substances. A small woman sat bent over a table in front of, of all things, a dead body. She looked up as Thiana spoke, startled and instantly afraid as she saw who it was. She rose, wiping her hands, her eyes flickering to Caddoc, who stood silently, looking at his feet.
“I want this man taken care of, Pallas.” Thiana said, her voice stern, her features frowning at the small blond woman before her. “No harm is to come to him, and if by chance he dies.... well, you know what shall happen if you fail me, Pallas.” She departed soon after, and Pallas returned to the shop. She has to search to find Caddoc, who had secreted himself in a small area. It took coaxing, and soothing words, but eventually Caddoc came out of hiding for Pallas to look over him.
“Come here, dear, and take off your shirt. I've seen what Thiana can do, and you look malnourished, as well as abused, you need a lot of help.” She led him to a back room, where a small bed and table were found. She sat him on this and removed his shirt. Tut tutting over the road map of scars covering his chest, she delved him. He shivered and jerked away. “It's alright, dear.” She cooed, “I'm a Healer, a Yellow, I know what I'm doing.” She went back to her work. “I can't believe she kept you alive this long...” She muttered to herself as she worked. To her surprised, Caddoc responded.
“If I'm not alive I cannot feel any pain.” Caddoc said, his voice showing no emotion at this statement. “And pain is something she enjoys, even more than she enjoys sex. I'm nothing more than a specimen to her, a play toy.” Pallas glanced at him, a frown in her eyes, but could not argue. She coaxed him back into the bed to sleep, feeding him before she went. He did not give her much trouble.
Weeks turned into months, months to days, and eventually days turned to years. Thiana did not return, and Caddoc eventually managed to find a life in Pallas's shop. During the day, he helped her about the shop, or helped her with the few patients that came her way, mostly people that did not want to explain where they had received their wounds, he quickly found. Of course unable to channel, he was still able to be taught the basics in first aid, and even a few more detailed things. Medicines, he learned, and the drugs it took to to the woman's work. It was a hard life, without the One Power to help, but hard work was good for Caddoc. It kept him from thinking. Over time, he heard Pallas's story. She worked for Thiana for one simple reason: she had no choice. Years before, the Yellow's child had been stolen from her, and Thiana made sure that Pallas knew she was responsible. Strong, but no where near as ruthless or as cut throat as Thiana, Pallas believed she had no chance of defeating the Red Sister. As long as she did as she was told, she reported one night to Caddoc as she lay within his arms in her bed, then her son was safe. Protecting family was something that Caddoc could understand, though he never gave her his own story, and he nodded into the darkness, then simply held her close.
One night Pallas discovered that Caddoc had been taught many things, and of them the use of instruments. Harps, both large and small, as well as flutes and guitars, even a sparkling of piano was under the control of Caddoc's dexterous fingers. He had also been graced with a voice, and the teachers to show him how to use it. After that, their nights were filled with song, Pallas sitting beside Caddoc, or at his feet, as the man wove morose melodies for the woman. He seemed incapable of singing more upbeat tunes, however, and Pallas never forced him to try. After about a year in Pallas's hands the Yellow pronounced him fully healed, as strong as he had ever been. Caddoc did not seem to care.
One night as he sat in her living area, playing the harp softly as she gazed out the window, he felt the icy touch of Saidar. He was being delved, possibly, because he was rather certain there was nothing for her to heal. He stopped playing and fixed her with that emotionless stare.
“What are you doing, Pallas?” He asked, his voice as emotionless as his features.
“Hush Caddoc, I think I feel something there.”
Caddoc returned to his playing, not asking again. After that, he became accustom to the sensation of her using the One Power on him at nights while he played. Three years passed in this manner, and for the most part it was a quite life he forged with Pallas, between working the shop/infirmary and serving as her confidant as well as her lover. In many ways, he believed it was much like marriage. He also knew that, in her own way, Pallas loved him, and while he was fond of her, but he felt no love. He understood that if push came to shove, she would return him to the hands of the enemy, return him to pain. And while it might hurt her to do it, she was to afraid of the consequences of rebellion to ever try it. There was no hope for her, as much as it pained Caddoc, he knew this deeply and completely. Then came the fateful night.
As always, they sat upon the hearth, tonight Caddoc softly playing upon the flute he had been bought by Pallas, as she had bought him all his instruments. His eyes were closed, and he was half listening to Pallas mutter to herself as she worked on him.
“It seems that if I simply bridge this... and add this...” She muttered incoherently. The next moment, Caddoc had dropped the flute and stared at nothing before him as....Saidin came flooding back to him, within his reach! Pallas had gasped, amazed at her accomplishment, and had started back. Caddoc turned his head, seized thin threads of air before Pallas could react, and had reached into her form with them, wrapping them around her heart and stopping it's beating immediately. Standing, he stepped carefully over her body and out of the shop, setting it alight behind him. He then fled the city, his former life burning quietly in the darkness. It wasn't until he had completely escaped, and was sure of this, that Caddoc allowed himself to pause, to rest, and most importantly, to cry.
Two years had passed since that day, and Caddoc still held tightly to the instruments of music Pallas had given him. The guitar and the harp hung carefully from his back, the flute was in it's carrier under his arm. Strapped to his side was a rather nice sword, but the colorfully patched cloak (a shade or two darker than most gleeman's) covered the weapon completely. He had made his way across the continent, searching for his sister, as well as those at whose hands he had suffered. He had not found that latter but, eventually hehad found the former. His sister. Latonia.
The trip to the Grey Tower was not easy, but it was one he had to make, and eventually it came to a close. He made his way into the Tower, clothed in his strange gleeman's cloak. Someone found him and he told them he had information for the Amyrlin alone. He would speak to no one else first. Caddoc was a sufferer of paranoia. He wanted to be safe here, wanted to be more than the wilder he had taught himself to be, and to do that, it meant he had to put himself in danger.
Who was more powerful, who was more in control that the Amyrlin Seat? If anyone could be told this information safely, it had to be her. Let her have a throng of people around her, if she wished, but tell his story he would. He would make sure to make himself far to loud a person to ever remove, for fear that everyone would believe what he had been saying all along. Eventually, he managed to make himself a curiosity enough that he did make it to kneel before the Amyrlin. Thanking her for the audience, aware of the eyes upon him, Caddoc began to speak. He was happy to have been a gleeman for these past two years, as it made him used to being stared at. He started his story, spilling out his childhood, and here was the only lie he gave. He covered his families affiliation with the Dark, for his father was dead and his mother was as well. Fingering his family would only bring heat down on his sister Latonia, a Novice here, and she was innocent, as far as he knew. So he lied, he told the woman before him that he did not understand why his family was attacked, he blamed his parents death on the Dark, instead of accepting that he had been the one to kill them. He left out the training in the Dark that he and his sister had been given, left out all that would look bad. From the moment of their parents death, however, to this moment he was truthful, leaving nothing out. He gave the woman before him names, when he knew them, descriptions, affiliations with which Tower, he believed. Even, if he knew it or could guess, where he believed they had been born, accents and personal habits. During his years in Thiana's clutches, he had seen much, and all this he gave to this woman now. It was a relief to do so. It felt like starting anew, and maybe, finally, he could be reunited with his sister, and start life again anew, and for once in several years... maybe he could be happy....
- Soldier (7 March 2010)
- Dedicated (4 May 2010)
- Asha'man (15 December 2019)