Fanfic:A Crime inside Tower Walls/Chapter I

A Crime inside Tower Walls/Chapter I

Author(s)	Alexandra Bella Kenneth Edberg Eric Robins or Sigmund von Danzig (player)
Character(s)	Aias Caden Ives Liana en'Damier Damodred Antii Miahala Ives Saphire en'Damier

This is a piece of fanfiction. Only the original author(s) or Librarian(s) should make content changes to this page.

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Slowly and pensively, Miahala made her way from the Infirmary back to the halls of the Green Ajah. It had been another clean report, as it could be said, but since she was in to her seventh month - as best they could estimate - she was mostly 'off duty' as Ajah Head, with Saphire having picked up most all of it by now.

It was true.

Despite everything, there had still been moments when Mia had almost felt that this wasn't truly happening, because who would have thought at her age that this could happen? Yet, it did and it was. It was true and inescapable, but she was glad for it now. She had always been a glad and serene mother. It traced back to her heritage and where she had been born. Either way, she was glad for it. It made things go easier.

"Look who we have here," a female voice said ahead of her. Her head snapped up from where it had been tilted down in thought. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Halana Morren, the witch of the Black Ajah that Mia had fought months ago in Andor, and her warder who Caden had fought now stood in front of her... in the very halls of the Grey Tower?

Miahala realized she was not at her best, or else she would have known they were there ahead of nearly walking on them, yet who would have thought that they would appear in the very halls of the Tower itself? She ground her teeth as anger and fire flashed through her blue-green eyes.

Instinctively, Mia hands trembled as they clung to the sides of her body, her extended abdomen, her child. The two women faced off against one another for several seconds that seemed like an eternity, but really didn't last all that long.

Mia's mind jumped from thought to thought - how was she going to escape this without harm to her child?

Her natural instinct was, of course, to fight, but... would she be at her best like this? Would she just end up harming herself and threatening the life within her? It was too many varied factors to truly consider in the scant amount of moments that passed.

Caden, she whispered in to her mind, wishing that he were there... yet wishing that he was not, if for nothing else than his own safety, yet in the face of this situation and in spite of her protective feelings towards him, she knew that it would've done better for them - Mia and their child - if he had been here... but he wasn't, so she'd have to claw her way out of this one on her own.

"You can make this easy, or you can make this very difficult," Halana said in a low, sinister voice... as was to be expected from a Black Ajah witch. A young novice by the name of Jerya was walking through the halls of the Green Ajah on an appointment and errand when she heard the sounds of fighting and the crackle of fire ahead of her. She felt a sudden panic grow inside her and she rushed to see what it was, because she had never been timid.

Jerya turned the corner in time to see a woman and man that she didn't know but thought were Aes Sedai and Gaidin dragging another woman that the novice thought to be Miahala Sedai through a gateway. In the brief flash she caught before the gateway closed, she thought she saw blood and scorch marks on the Captain-General.

The corridor was nearly alight with flames upon the tapestries and the occasional piece of furniture. Two daggers lay abandoned on the floor...

Turning, Jerya ran as fast as her legs could carry her to find someone, anyone, who could help. Caden's boots barely touched the ground as he ran from the Warder Yards. The transition was instinctive, to the point where he wondered when he had started to run in the first place. Light preserve my frayed heart... His loose white shirt flapped behind him as he crossed the distance towards the main Tower structure. He had snatched his saber from the ground and was darting through astonished learning ranks, Channelers and servants alike while holding the top of the scabbard with his left hand - the thumb keeping the saber from leaving the sheath. Miahala! He used his free hand to shove people out of the way when they failed to notice his passage. "Stand clear!!"

He used all the abilities his martially trained body could muster to take the shortest path as possible towards the place where Miahala was suddenly fighting for her life. He knew too well how the bond felt at such given times, for they had faced a lot together as Warder and Aes Sedai, even before they were reunited in the Borderlands. What the bond told him was unmistakable.

At first, his mind was raging in fear for her, in terror to the situation he faced. He could not focus, for he could not force the trauma from his mind. Yet somehow, he found the Void and his face - which was partially covered with one of his white masks - became a mask in itself. All emotion drained, and his flaring green eye took in the surroundings to help his progress.

Efficiency was key to all movements in the art of the sword; the same could be utilized in moving across distances in very limited time. He had to keep moving, no matter what came before him. His progress across open ground was easy, because the bond told him exactly in what direction he should be running. He cut a straight line through the pathways and around small buildings - vaulting over benches and rolling underneath low branches. He was trained, during all his life in the Warder Yards, to overcome obstacles in all shapes.

He was at top speed - all the time - and he could not afford to loose any momentum in his flight towards his pregnant wife's aid.

He entered the main Tower structure without slowing down, with Tower Guards shouting after him - never able to catch up because of the momentum he carried. Each obstacle he faced had to be overcome in its own unique way. He had to make use of absorption and redistribution of energy, executed as body rolls when landing on hard mosaic floors. He leapt, kicked off from a wall to gain a greater height. He made use of his physical strength to get from hanging positions on railings into a getting his body above the obstacle; hopping over it. His sheathed saber was in the way, but he had no choice but to work around it - another obstacle in itself.

At one point, he was faced with the choice of either shouldering down a small cluster of Aes Sedai or crash into a trolley that one of the serving ranks rolled out into his way. He did not hesitate, but dove across the top of the trolley, and in mid-jump pushed off from the trolley's top so that his body became vertical again, he hit the floor running. It was a battle against time and distance, a foe as formidable as any h had met. His progress was not allowed to be hampered in any way.

The Void eradicated all information that did not concern his progress towards his Aes Sedai's location.

But then, the location itself...

...changed.

His chest heaving like a smith's bellow, Caden whipped his head around in the direction where Miahala now was. Initially, he altered his course, taking a new intersection to the right. But then he realized what had happened. The bond told him that his wife was not inside the Tower battlements anymore. Where the flaring and heralding bonfire had been, only a small flickering beacon suggested her direction. It was all that remained, leaving him bereft of initiative.

He skidded to a halt, his green eye flaring as he looked down the hallway. People stared at him, mouth agape. The Void was still keeping him together, and he did not dare let go until he had ruled out all options to continue running. He turned and walked disjointedly in a semi-circle - back in the direction whence he had come, seeing more faces. His loose shirt was askew and his long wheaten hair hung in wild tangles down his back. His knuckles and knees were bruised and bleeding. The scabbard of his saber was in no better shape.

He let go of the Oneness, and all emotion spilled out over his mind like burning lava.

"AAAAARRGGGHHH!!!!" With a grating roar, he struck out against a four feet tall pot - shattering the thick porcelain with his fist. Damp earth spilled out over the shards, which rained against the adamant floor. He used the butt of his scabbard to rend the pot completely asunder, three strikes sending tall roses and earth all over the floor.

"Damnation! A plague on the Shadow and all its devotees!" he raged against no one in particular. Wherever his mask-covered face turned, serving ranks shrank away and Channelers looked ready to defend themselves with serene faces and invisible auras of power around them. At that given point, he could not possibly care less. "What are you looking at!? Get out of my face, or I will make yours resemble mine!"

There was no time for this. He had a long distance to cross, and little time to prepare for the journey. He set a mordant stride down the hallway, in the direction where Miahala had faced her captors. There were things to be learned from the scene of battle, and too little time to contemplate them.

The pain in his cold heart, the fear for his wife, the fear for their child, the terror of knowing he was so far out of reach for them - it was a burden he was not ready to shoulder. In initiative, he found the way to continue, instead of breaking apart. What do I do now, truly? Is there any hope for them to survive? I need help. Light, Miahala, how I have failed you. How could this happen?

Thoughts sprung emotion. He lashed out against a sitting chair, breaking it apart and throwing it out through a stained glass window. "There will be blood!" he rasped as the onlookers gasped. "Burn me, there will be blood!!" "...The Sitter is currently with her Mother."

"I will find her in the Green Halls then," Caith concluded with a small bow to the Indigo Sister and turned to leave, ashandarei slung over his shoulder. It had been difficult to hide his excitement from Liana, but he fancied that he had managed, even now when the surprise was in order. While there was no rush, there was a certain spring of eagerness in his step. He was certain she would appreciate the gift he had for her and he currently had no mind for waiting.

It wasn't much more than mere chance and circumstance that allowed Caith to be within hearing vicinity of Caden's rage, and he was sure that there was only one thing that could enrage the elder warder so. Miahala.

Stepping out of a side-corridor he caught sight of the man ahead of him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could feel Liana, angry and determined.

"Caden!" he called out, somewhat sharply. "What news?" Saphire roared with laughter. When it finally subsided, she asked, "Do you really have no idea, my child, where you were?"

Liana had flushed a brilliant scarlet. Which itself confirmed that she had no idea what that large wall-climbing stand of passion flowers marked.

Saphire chuckled and shook her head. How could her Tower-born daughter be so naive? "He brought you to the doorstep of the Sa'sara room!"

It had seemed impossible, but Liana grew a deeper shade of red than Saphire even thought possible. She even sipped from her wine glass to mask her expression while she composed herself. "I am confident," Liana said coolly, "that Lembirt Asha'man hadn't the faintest idea neither."

Saphire rolled her eyes. "Of course he didn't. He's far too much of a prude for that." She grinned. "But the look on your face..." She chuckled again, and reached for the bread and cheese. "...that was priceless." the best part was that Saphire couldn't lie, it was true. She had found the place by virtue of the family moonstone, the ter'angreal that the Amyrlin Seat, her mother, Liana's grandmother, had captured her memories in on the even of the Breaking of the Old Tower. It was that same stone that flushed out the spark in Saphire as a girl. And it was that same room that had held the Lost Archive of manuscripts and objects of power both - which Saphire had recovered when she was younger than Liana. But that room had been used for... more questionable purposes prior to that. Even Saphire's own conception, and that of her late brother Kadar, may he be reborn gloriously in the Light, at the start of the Tower's first baby boom.

Liana looked away, Saphire thought, from shame. She had already taught her daughter this evening how to 'mask the bond in a kerchief'. The Green had been shocked that none of Liana's Indigo Sisters had taught her that trick, but learned, that what sparse few Sisters of the indigo-fringed shawl there were, were all on leave. Liana was the only one currently behind Tower walls.

And Saphire hadn't relinquished that knowledge for free. No, it had cost her a promise to speak with Caith about her intentions using it, and also another story. The first, the one about kissing Lembirt in the Indigo Halls had led to the discussion in the first place. Liana had come seeking her mother's advice on this most urgent matter: her hair-pulling over two suitors.

But Liana was not, actually, looking away from embarrassment. She heard someone come running.

There was a pounding at the door.

"Yes?" Saphire called. "Come." Some of her mirth faded. It could only be matters of business. How odious they were. They came frequently now that she had assumed all of the responsibilities of the Captain-General to relieve Miahala. She waved her hand through the girl's curtsey. "Well, what is it? Spit it out, child."

The Novice was out of breath when she reached the door of Saphire Sedai and she had to stop to catch it before she could report what she had seen.

"I think the Captain General has been kidnapped!" she finally exclaimed when she had breath to do so. "I saw... someone taking... her through a portal... daggers on the ground, fires upon the wall..."

She clutched her hand to her chest to try to stop her heart from pounding right out of it.

Saphire and Liana both sprung to their feet exclaiming,

"Mother's milk in a cup!"

"My aunt?! Light protect her!"

Saphire was already moving, "Right, to arms then!" She grasped her partizan and marched straight out the door without even a thought to saddle bags or a cloak. Liana paused only to retrieve her sword belt, from which hung Lady's Sword and her parrying dagger, and sprung after her. If her mother got a fool idea in her head, like heading out without any sort of preparations, there was no getting it back out of her head. She heard a string of curses under her breath that could only be for having lost Firredal so soon before this crisis.

"Girl," she meant the novice, "take us there." Shortly thereafter, they passed a Soldier who Liana recognized. It was the out-worlder, Aias, who she had brought through the portal stone. "You, with me." Her mother gestured to him and then turned the corner. Strange, those two had met somehow... but that pondering was submerged in a deeper worry. What of Miahala, and her dear child? Where had she been taken, and would they see her alive again?

She was roused from these thoughts by her mother's voice. "Run, and tell the Amyrlin Seat what has happened." Saphire said, much like a general to her soldier, and not to the novice but to the Indigo Sitter.

"I will not." Liana said firmly as she latched the belt around her hips, "I am coming with you."

"Light burn my bones to ashes you are! Don't be a fool Light-blinded mule, and do as I say."

"Lead the way, Child." Liana said more gently to the novice, and nudged her forward. And to her mother she spoke coolly, "I am no child, mother. Caithlan and I can hold our own. Do you not remember World's End?"

Saphire's pace did not slow, but she did look sharply over her shoulder. "That was not the bloody Light-forsaken Shadow-loving Black Ajah." She spat at the name. "You are not ready for them. And I'll be bloody-be-damned before I lead you into that flaming cat-fight." This was her mother's way of protecting her. For there was no greater foe, short of the Forsaken, than the Black Ajah. And it could be no other who could have gated her out of the Tower.

"You underestimate me, mother." Liana said levelly, and a chill that ran through her voice. She was weary of being patronized.

They came upon the area where burns marks scorched the halls. Two daggers were waylaid. The novice Jerya stepped forward, about to retrieve one of them.

"Don't touch anything," Saphire barked. "I must read..." Liana knew that her mother was reading the residues of the fight, for the moment distracted out of their argument.

There was a faint sound down the corridor, almost as if someone were crying out in fury or agony. The glow of Saidar enveloped both Aes Sedai, but only Liana turned her head. She nudged the girl behind her. More curses that she could not distinguish echoed down the hall, but the voice that they belonged to was now recognized. "By the pricking of my thumbs, my uncle Caden this way comes," she said softly. But she also sensed the approach of her own Warder. He was coming from the same direction. Aias was nearing the door of the Green Sitter when the woman herself burst out of the room, storm clouds gathering in her face. He opened his mouth to greet her, but was interrupted by a sharp command.

"You, with me."

It was the quick bark of a commander and Aias automatically fell in behind her, his pace taking on the cadence of a march. It felt strange to do so without spear in hand. Wondering what this was all about, he listened to Saphire's conversation with the other Aes Sedai. Her daughter? Light, how many members of this family are Aes Sedai here? That thought was quickly silenced by one phrase that Saphire Sedai spoke.

The Black Ajah.

A chill ran down Aias' spine. Shadowsworn Channelers were well known to him since childhood, even though in this world they often seemed to be considered mere rumor. Lakonia's history recorded in detail the treachery of the shadowsworn. Once again, Aias' hand itched for a spear. "There was a fire fight," Saphire pronounced decisively.

She wasn't talking about the scorch marks on the walls, nor the scent of burned hair hanging in the air. It was the residues of the weaves that lingered that captured her special attention.

"She was blocked by a female Channeler, no, an 'Aes Sedai', for she had a Warder. But not a Sister of ours." Her weaves were foreign to Saphire's trained eyes.

Saphire paced, tracing lightly with her fingers the fainter flows, observing at various angles the traces of Fire and Air and Spirit that hung in the air like mist to her eyes. Like a bloodhound on the scent of a trail, she followed them.

"Fire in equal strength. And defensive weaves of Air. Hands of Air." Frankly, she was surprised that Miahala could channel at all carrying a child so late in term, let alone hold her own in a battle. But she had been desperate. Women could perform amazing feats when their young were in danger.

And then the dance began. Saphire followed the motions of the battle, from the pause when Miahala realized she was ambushed, to the battle, to her capture. She gestured with the weaves from each side.

"The Captain threw fireballs, the simplest kind. Thrown as swiftly as they are deadly. The other side..." She trailed off, taking the other position. "...she took pains to take the Captain alive."

Saphire backed away, back to Miahala's side. "The battle reached an epic scale. How valiantly she fought! She tried to invoke Boiling Blood..." That was a secret weave of the Green Ajah, and Saphire for the moment forgot herself when she gave it a name. It was a terrible, horrific weave, and one that Miahala was capable of creating as one of their most powerful and dexterous Sisters.

She moved back to the enemy side. "But the concentration required... it bought the enemy time. She protected her Warder with Hands of Air as he stalked the Captain. He clubbed her, there." Saphire pointed to where the daggers lay. "And then she severed her... no!" She approached and knelt, and paused. "...only shielded her." She looked up, up at the great columns of Spirit next to where she had lain. "That was where the gate opened."

Saphire rose then. By this time the Warders had long since arrived, but she did not see them. She was studying the gateway. Gateways required so much power that their residues could be seen by readers like her, even less Talented ones, two days after they were woven. If she was Talented enough, if she was dexterous enough she could reproduce it...

"Mother," that was Liana's voice, "can you weave it?"

"No." Saphire said, shaking her head. "I am not such a fine-skilled weaver." Not like Miahala, and certainly not like the Amyrlin Seat. "But I do have an idea of the direction and how far they may have carried her..."

She turned abruptly on her heels. "Maps, we need maps!"

Liana nodded. "From the Blue or Grey Ajah Halls then." Even the Green and Indigo Ajahs' maps were limited to their particular interests. "We must inform the Amyrlin Seat," she said. She had questioned the novice, it seemed, while Saphire had studied the residues. Liana bent slightly and told the novice to report to the Mother and Father on high in the Administration Hall. "Tarry not, child!" When a voice addressed him, Caden snapped his gaze to the speakers face. Leanna's kinsman. He did not pause in his mordant stride towards where Miahala had been before she disappeared, but spoke over his shoulder. "My Aes Sedai," he growled deep down in his throat. His words were chopped short - delivered in a fashion that hid his despair. "She has been taken. I could not reach her in time."

His mind was attacking the problem he faced. He was distracted, could not focus on the explanation. There was no time. "The Black Ajah has grown too bold for their own good, and I will show them just how bold." It was the only thing he could think of to say as he entered the intersection that would lead him to the place where Miahala had been just minutes before.

His ire slowly shifted to urgency, step by step. He listened only partially if the Gaidin Captain asked any questions, mumbled hurried words as his mind raced.

When he arrived with the Gaidin Captain in tow, he found he was not the first on scene. Saphire and Liana - and a Soldier he had not met before. If Liana and her Warder spoke with each other, Caden did not notice. His attention was immediately transferred to the re-enactment that was taking place. He stepped forward, staring unblinkingly as he listened to the Green Aes Sedai that he had shared so many hours with by the Executive Council's table. His free hand opened and closed repeatedly - the only sign of his urgency; the remaining rift in his composure.

"Mother," that was Liana's voice, "can you weave it?"

"No," Saphire said, shaking her head. "I am not such a fine-skilled weaver." Not like Miahala, and certainly not like the Amyrlin Seat. "But I do have an idea of the direction and how far they may have carried her..."

She turned abruptly on her heels. "Maps, we need maps!"

"Saphire Sedai!" He could not contain himself and demanded the Sitter's attention. "I am still alive. I know her direction. Any bloody map suffice, as long as it can be found in close by, but I can say immediately if the direction you perceive matches what the Bond tells me. They might have used another Gateway after this one, could they not?"

He stepped forward and picked up Miahala's daggers from the ground and sheathed them behind his belt. He would not have Miahala unarmed if he managed to pull her free. He could not care less that they were a part of the scene. Saphire has already perceived what needed to be known, and he was her husband. "I will be leaving the Tower within the hour, to find her before the Black Ajah can start their experiments on her. Which direction does the Gateway point and how far? Also, need I have someone else provide me with a Gateway or will you supply one?"

It was evident he would go alone if they would not leave together with him; as soon as he collected his armor and his mount. The desperation in his soul denied him civility or tact, only enhanced his undeniable countenance. He was not Caden Ives anymore, for the Reaper of old times had come alive again in his most dire hour.

He would not spare any measures to save his wife and unborn child. One hour, that was all and more he needed, then he would leave - alone or not. "Good, you're here." Saphire had been so focused on the residues she had not seen his approach, nor could have known whether he had been taken down elsewhere first.

But her relief was mixed with irritation. It appeared in her slight frown, and like thunder rumbling over dark o'ercast clouds. She did not like the idea of being left behind, any more than he liked the idea of delaying. It irked her that he would imply that they would sit on their thumbs while Miahala was tortured, or worse. Miahala was like a sister to her, and she wanted to see her safely home. She would see her safely home, or die trying.

Her fists were planted on her hips. "We'll see her home safe and sound, on my life I swear it. We'll be ready," she said firmly, and by the First Oath, she was bound to it.

"We're with you, uncle Caden." Liana said, and smiled softly. "There is someone known to me who may aid our quest in the Vaults." she offered, "I suggest we gather there and plan." And with a nod, she turned to descend down the stairwell with Caithlan. And that was how she neatly avoided being dismissed by her higher-ranking mother.

"You'd best arm yourself, Child," Saphire said briskly to the out-worlder, "and find us there." Though Saphire's oath was reassuring in a way, he still had not been answered. They denied him! Though he found that he could not be truly angry with Saphire or Liana, for they were reaching for the same goal, albeit in different ways. Yet he was frustrated with the situation, and wanted to be off as soon as was humanly possible.

So be it then...

He would confer over the maps and try to pinpoint the approximate location to travel to, and if the Aes Sedai felt that they needed to prepare themselves, he would allow it. He still had to collect his armor and supplies though, and get his mount from the stables, but he would see to this matter first so that he could get aide from the en'Damiers.

On the way down to the vaults, he conferred with Saphire and Liana so that they were on the same page with everything. He was still clenched tightly in controlled frustration and ire, but he made sure to cooperate as best as his heart allowed. They had taken Miahala! How could he be so composed? It was as if this nightmare was happening to someone else.

Down they went the long stairs, to the vaults of the Indigo Ajah. Their pace soon took them there, and the air grew a little bit colder. His loose shirt was sodden from his effort to get to Miahala, and it grew very chill on his skin. He raked back loose stands of hair from his masked face once they stood before the last door.

Liana had reached her goal, and led them to a place that would give them some preparation and some answers. "Is this the place?" he asked in his damaged voice. Aias blinked. So, they were going to war. This was precisely the reason his people were never to be far away from their weapons... They would lose valuable time re-arming. Still, Aias knew his place. He could not question them. They split up to gather their arms. Aias raced to the Armory, strapping on his cuirass, helm and shield. He felt much better, gripping the familiar weight of his long ash spear. He sprinted back into the Tower, his armor making a tremendous clatter and horsehair plume splaying behind him. Aias did not slow down until his comrades were in sight. He stood at attention, tapping the buttcap of his spear against the cold stone floor, and waited.

Sanctus Espiritus... Redeem us from our solemn hour.
Sanctus Espiritus... Insanity is all around us.
Sanctus Espiritus... Is this what we deserve...
Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony?
('Our Solemn Hour' - Within Temptation)

Location Unknown

Miahala's ascent in to the waking world was a slow and painful one, at first. The climb was agonizing for the first few moments and then it all came upon her, suddenly. Her head beat painfully in time with the pounding of her heart as she opened her eyes and saw a room made of stone, barren of all things and cold.

There was only a single window, high up, and it let in weak light. It was the only light in the room.

She shivered as realization stabbed her... the memory of the fight and then the darkness that followed. Panicked, she felt in the way of mothers and then, relieved, knew that she still had her child, thank the Light that it might shine upon her now. What condition the unborn creature was in, she knew not, but could only pray that he or she was hale still.

Inwardly, she next registered her own state. She was in pain. Her hands were bound behind her back and she was sitting on a cold stone floor, her head leaning back against the wall. She... was shielded. She could not touch the One Power, but surprisingly she had not been severed.

Shielded, bound, captive and alone... yet she was alive and, for the most part, unharmed. She was, of course, bereft of weapon, but still clothed and she could feel the rings hanging against her breast and the ones on her hands.

She was not, however, surprised that she was here. A part of her had always known that this was a price she might one day pay for the life that she had lead, the path against the Shadow that she had unwaveringly remained to... yet, still, questions raged through her mind about it, for it did not match what she would have expected.

Why was she not more harmed? What strange trick was this, to capture her and not severe her? To leave her with such things when they could easily have been taken?

"She's awake," a deep male voice said from off to her left.

It was a painful thing to do, given the intense throbbing in her temples and at the back of her skull, but she turned her head to look at who had spoken. Against the far wall were two people. She could just barely make out figures and faces. The rocks glittered wetly, water leaking down them.

"Indeed she is, Garin," Halana Morren purred darkly. "It didn't take her long at all, did it? I suppose that is to be expected from the... Captain General." The title was spoken with enough venom to poison Mia from across the room.

As her eyes continued to accustom to the light, she was able to make out more and more of the two in front of her, and given that the last times she'd seen them both had been in the midst of a fight, she hadn't been able to take in much of their features.

Halana was not easily placed in terms of nationality, but she was showing agelessness in her features despite the way cruelty had given everything the appearance of curving downwards. She was beautiful in dark, sultry and petulant way, with dark wide eyes and a petite, rounded nose. Her lips were dark and had the look of being perpetually pursed, complimenting the permanent downward drift of her arched brows.

On the other hand, Garin was easily recognized as a Saldean. In Andor, she had thought he was Ghealdan but she now realized her memory had been incorrect. She saw it more clearly now. Traitor, Mia couldn't help but think. (It somehow seemed to offend her mind more that he was Saldean than that he was once part of the Tower.) His eyes were tilted at an even more drastic angle than the average and of a pale color that reflected the dim light in a freakish way. His aquiline nose curved slightly in to the slightly bowed lips with a sinister curve to the corners.

All of these things that whispered of darkness and hatred, cruelty and years of sinister work, were very faint and barely readable unless you were looking, as was classic for an Aes Sedai and Warder - even if they were aligned with the Black Ajah.

Miahala said nothing. In her mind, she was looking down a long, dark corridor and at that instant, only pain and possibly death lay at the other end: hers, her child's, or both.

Caden... Her mind cried the sob that she could not let go of outwardly. If it pleases the Light that this not be the hour of my death, may you find me and your child soon for I cannot bear the thought that we would perish alone, without you to at least know I was thinking of you, without being able to see you once more...

She showed nothing on the outside, though. Her eyes revealed only the intense hardness born of many, many years of a hard life, of a life of pain and determination, of triumph over such evils. It was all that remained on the outside, because it was all that she could afford to remain.

This was no moment for weakness.

Halana rose to her feet and slowly walked over to where Mia was. Her walk was slow, languid, like she knew that she had all the time in the world... for, perhaps, she did. She lowered herself to one knee and met Mia's eyes. The Black witch gave a slow smile.

"How the mighty have fallen," she whispered and then stopped. Mia got the impression that she was waiting for something, for a reaction on Mia's part, most likely... to speak, perhaps. Mia would give her neither, and after a few moments, Halana seemed to realize this and snorted. "Pride will be your downfall, old woman," she hissed.

Miahala said nothing.

It seemed a stereotype that Aes Sedai of the Black Ajah were these petulant creatures, spoiled, and used to getting what they wanted... that they would be easily angered when they didn't. Halana seemed to fall in to this most predictable category, but it was hard to tell if this would work in Mia's favor, or against her.

"I don't think this one will be much fun, Halana," Garin said from the far corner, where he remained leaning against the wall, still and silent as death... which in many ways he was.

"Oh, she will be... once I break her, while I'm breaking her," Halana said, the smile without mirth and a sickly sweetness returning to her mouth. "And I will, make no mistake." This was directed to Mia, as was the next part. "We spirited you away from your precious Tower long before anyone, even your wonderful Warder, could tell or do anything about it."

How little you know... Mia thought.

Halana smiled like someone keeping a secret. "I have not severed you, and I have not killed you or your child because then you'd have no reason to cooperate. I know how little you value your own life. But with these, I have something to hold over you and you do know that I shall use every advantage."

Inside, the sense of trembling grew and she had to grit together her back teeth to hold herself together... The feeling had started sooner, she realized, but she had been distracted by Halana's words.

Then, the feeling grew. It was the sensation of being pulled apart and having her self-control pulled upon, the loosening of the threads that held her mind in place.

"Tell me what you know," Halana whispered, meeting her eyes and staring in to them. "I know that you and your warder have managed to track us and foil plans we've placed, and I have no doubt that you've planned more and would not stop in your pursuit, eventually. Tell me what you have planned, and of the Ajah's plans for my Brothers and Sisters..."

For an instant, Miahala almost felt herself compelled to reveal it.

It suddenly snapped in to place in her mind. Compelled... This woman was using Compulsion on her, but it was weak. She was playing games, at least in comparison to the one she was up against. As soon as Mia was aware of what Halana was attempting, she steeled herself against the onslaught.

She was weakened, though, and the throbbing in her head continued, but she had to resist. She could not allow herself to be forced to reveal anything and it was only a minor moment of fortune - a blessing in the threads of the pattern - that Halana was not stronger.

The Black witch's face moved inward on itself, very slightly, eyes narrowing out of frustration. Mia was trembling slightly with the exertion and had her head leaned back against the wall again, but her eyes remained firmly on Halana's. "You're not very good at it, are you," she whispered with a very faint smirk of triumph.

Anger flared as fire in Halana's eyes as she rose quickly to her feet and gave Mia a hit to the face that rendered her already weakened mind unconscious once again.