Fanfic:A Shadow's Whisper

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A Shadow's Whisper
Author(s)
  • Jack
Character(s)
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Philosophy. That is one thing that separates the male channelers of the Black Tower from that of the Grey. They are trained as weapons, the Dragon's men, while our Soldiers and Dedicated have come close to bridging the gap of what the Aes Sedai once were. Before the War of the Shadow and the Breaking of the World.

But what happens when that training is no longer enough? As Master of Soldiers, it was my duty to see that my charges were ready for any possible scenario. They were not. The White Tower proved that when they nearly took our people, much to my dismay. I had long been a critic of turning my charges into weapons, but at the time some things were changed briefly.

The final realization for this was quiet and powerful, a week after a Green Sitter had been taken and nearly turned to the Shadow. Just a thought, a whisper in the back of the mind.

In order to ensure victory, some beliefs need to be sacrificed. At any cost. Sometimes childhoods must end.

From the journals of Jerid Walker, Asha'man of the Indigo Ajah


"You're brooding again, Jerid," a voice said, dragging the Indigo's attention from the view of the Channeling Yards below. His gold-green eyes landed on the man who had brought him back to reality and away from the Soldiers and Dedicated in various lessons.

Or men, rather, as it were. Balen Ashe sat in one of the ornate chairs on the opposite side of the desk in Jerid's private study, dressed in a worn white coat and simple trousers, with the grey cord around one shoulder. The young Andoran stared at him with concerned look, his sharp blue eyes evaluating the Master of Soldiers.

The other man stood nearby, his own slightly darker hazel eyes calm, reflective. Like Balen, this man wore a Grey cord, and was dressed as Jerid was, in Asha'man black and adorned as if preparing to meet a delegation. Selan Telari was a distinguished man in his Ajah, a Tairen who had cast aside the gloomy beliefs of lower-caste society in Tear.

Both men were confidants in many matters, Balen especially so.

"I don't brood, Balen," Jerid murmured. "I merely reflect." The First Oath was easy to sidestep on that issue. Besides, he hated the word 'brood.' It sounded as if he were gloomy.

"In whatever case, Brother, Balen is correct," Selan said, straightening from his position against the wall. Arms crossed beneath his chest, the Taiern's gaze flashed with some concern as well. "You've been like this for several weeks now. Ever since the rescue of our people, and the Green's First Sitter, I might add."

Jerid suppressed the desire to sigh. Instead he reached for his mug of cider, the tips of his ring and little finger missing. It was a recent scar, those two missing tips, a reminder of that the Shadow was forever lurking just around the corner, threatening someone he (marginally) cared for.

Two knots in the back of his mind were the only solace he had any more. One was Lysira, the other Catieri. Light alone knew that it might drive a person insane, the thought of discovery in bonding the second, but for Jerid it soothed him.

However, now was not one of those soothing moments. Jerid sipped the drink quietly.

"He is right, Jerid. You've been out of sorts for the last several days or so." Balen's voice was more or less one of brotherly concern. He knew what tugged at Jerid's mind, or at least the most recent advent.

Ever since the White Tower had kidnapped so many of their people, and the rescue after, Jerid had hoped to thwart such a thing within his own charges. But then Shadowsworn had taken Saphire en'Damier, and the rescue that Jerid had rallied. The loss that had been involved in the rescue.

And they were both right, but not for the reasons they might have suspected. His gaze turned to the window again, looking at the learning ranks below. Ever since his orders following the rescue from the White Tower farms, Jerid had seen that they had been rescinded. For a brief time, a Dedicated had trained the others with weaves learned from the Black Tower. The training was to be forgotten.

A week ago, he had seen how crucial the training had been in rescuing the Sitter.

"How are the negotiations going with House Elien and House Saighan?" Jerid asked, intending to switch the topic. Instead, it was something of personal interest to the Indigo, this matter of proposed marriage between a Andoran House and a Cairhienin one. The Elien clan was one that was tied into Jerid's own family, and one whom two people he had once been close to had belonged to.

"Slow," Selan muttered with some distaste. "Saighan is overbearing, demanding too much. The arrogance of Cairhienin upper society."

Balen grunted in agreement. He looked at Jerid and added, "House Elien is not much different. The High Seat is not as reasonable as his brother was." Jerid and Selan both smirked at this. Trae Elien had been a very reasonable man, a shame he had never sat on the High Seat. Perhaps he would still be alive.

Yet another reminder of the Shadow's lurking.

"Very well. Remind them that House Walker does support such a union, and remind them as well how much trade they stand to lose." Jerid's House was a powerful mercantile influence, enough to sway some to a much more state of agreeability.

Both men nodded, but Balen was not about to give up on his earlier approach. "There are other matters, primarily the concern of so many being rallied and the loss involved." Balen paused when Jerid glared at him, but went on after a second. "Some wonder why they were not consulted. I reminded them of what the end result would be..."

"And if it comes to a head, I will make sure to silent any and all objections," Jerid said simply. Balen and Selan both blinked. Rarely did the man interweave himself into political affairs, even in the Hall of Sitters. Exceptions were made, but never as immense as what had just been said.

The Indigo turned briefly to look at both men. "The Amyrlin Seat's daughter was kidnapped and nearly turned against her will. What the Tower did when it rallied was an act of Ajah unity. It is a step they should pride themselves on."

Balen frowned slightly, but an argument was moot. The older Asha'man was right; the Green Ajah might have acted on its own if word had gone straight to them. No help from the others, or from Soldiers and Dedicated.

"That will be all, Brothers," Jerid murmured, turning back to the window. "Thank you for keeping me appraised." He heard the shifting of a seat and murmured replies from Balen and Selan. He was aware of the door opening and closing, but the Indigo's eyes remained fixated on the learning ranks in the Channeling Yard.

He was not alone, though. One of the men had remained, and it became evident as Selan suddenly appeared beside him. The Tairen was of a height with Jerid, quiet and composed and languid in his presence. The man was a master diplomat, much to Trae Elien's high praise.

He was also persistent in his endeavors. The man's hazel gaze scanned the sweeping vista below them.

"They are young yet, Brother, and in much need of training. But many have made great strides," Selan murmured. Jerid looked sideways at the Grey before inclining his head in brief agreement.

"If only that were the case," Jerid murmured, turning back to the yards, "when the White Tower had attacked." His gold-green eyes flashed in brief anger at the event.

"And yet they were ready when you rallied them to the First Sitter's rescue," the Grey replied. He turned to face Jerid.

Jerid smiled bitterly, his mouth hard as he shook his head. "And only because they were among those trained at my order," he said softly. Distaste laced his tone, as if drinking bitter tea. "But what happens when the next assault comes from the shadows again?"

A spark of understanding flashed in the Grey's eyes. "So, that his the bee that flew up your arse," the Grey mused. "You come down too harshly on yourself, Walker. What you did not only helped ensure the rescue of our people but also proved crucial in preventing the loss of a powerful ally."

Jerid frowned then, turning back to the room. His eyes gazed around the room, which was decorated with a few carved wood reliefs decorating the wall. The panels were mostly of battle scenes, most from the Battle of Lights. "Daimenin would not have approved," Jerid murmured. The old Indigo that had been the Carpenter M'Hael was mostly a peaceful man. "Neither would have Trae."

It was Selan's turn to frown. The younger Asha'man looked at the Indigo and murmured, "I would not claim to know what Brother Daimenin would have thought, but Trae Elien I can speak on. He valued peace and would have abhorred the training, but he was no fool. Neither was he the Master of Soldiers." Selan paused briefly before adding, "Sometimes one must depart with one's beliefs in order to ensure readiness."

Those words tugged at a memory deep in Jerid's mind. Words he had spoken to an old friend once.

"...As I look at my own charges, I can only seek to see they are ready to face the Shadow," he had said, looking at the grizzled visage of Caden Ives.

But then Jerid had also refused to train them as the Black Tower would. It went against Tower law and custom. It went against his beliefs. At least until the White Tower had made its move, and then the Black Ajah had kidnapped Saphire.

"They will be ready when the Shadow strikes," he whispered. Selan cocked his head before nodding slightly. Jerid looked at the Grey and murmured, "But some changes will not be so well known."

Selan nodded. "The Hall would surely not approve, nor would the M'Hael or Amyrlin Seat."

Jerid smiled wryly. "There are some things not even the Hall will find out, nor the Fang and Flame." His eyes flashed towards Selan and he murmured, "Your counsel has been very welcome today, Brother."

The Grey smiled and murmured a word of thanks, noting a dismissal when he heard one. "Light keep you well, Brother." And then the Grey was gone, leaving Jerid alone.

The Indigo sighed quietly in the silence now, his mind buoyed down by the task he now had to set upon himself. No one would know the true extent of the protocols he was about to breach, at least not beyond a handful. Not even Lysira would know, nor Catieri. Some things you just did not speak of.

After a long moment he returned to his desk and reached for a quill and a piece of parchment. As he began to write, his mind grew more resolved. For the sake of victory, one needed to part ways with some beliefs.

One such belief died that day.


Selan entered his chambers, a small smile on his lips. The day was long since passed, his deeds done in the name of his public Ajah. There would be no further hesitations in the negotiations between Houses Elien and Saighan.

But that was not the purpose of his smile. As the Taiern closed the door behind him and walked towards the pantry, he mused over this afternoon's meeting with Walker. The man was a conundrum, but a man that had come to confide in Selan. The Grey was so certain the rumors that surrounded the Indigo were true, and much darker than what was spoken but he held such passionate reservations about training his charges to be weapons.

At least until today, or so Selan suspected.

He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. It was a good cause to celebrate, for all that had been achieved today. Selan had not even dared to hope of such a thing, but perhaps recent events had swayed a mindset.

As he sat down to enjoy his drink, the Asha'man mused over the potential benefits of the possible outcome. They would be bountiful.

A new cadre of fodder for the war and for his own Ajah was about to be born. All it had taken was but a whisper and beliefs had been thrown into turmoil. As would soon the male learning ranks, or at least those who began to become enticed with the power they held over their fellow Dedicated and Soldiers. He did not doubt Jerid would become selective in training his charges as living weapons.

A few well placed words were all that was needed to influence that man when blunt force had failed. Selan smiled grimly in the dim light. It was amazing how discord could be woven with a whisper as opposed to a sword point.

The Great Lord would be pleased.