Fanfic:Doing Time
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Kaihan scowled and stabbed at the ground with the hoe. Each thrust accentuated the venom in the Dedicated's thoughts. Haraile. Malven. Tatham. Lelianna. Amora. They were the people responsible for his being here. They were the reason why he was forced to spend his days labouring to eradicate the weeds from the cabbage fields, weeds that were so stubborn they seemed to return over night. The sun was, as usual, beating down on his neck, and Kaihan thought the skin there must be so red and hot it would catch fire. All for a moment of stupidity. What had he been thinking, interrupting a public birching like that? Had he really thought Kylara would be let off because he had knocked the whip out of the Mistress of Novices hands? Well, nearly two months on, he was certainly paying for that futile effort, and the lesson was well learned.
Yet, ironically, his punishment had provided him with the opportunity to gain the freedom he needed so badly. He had not been sent to the Tower's regular farm - that particular prison for misbehaving initiates had taken its maximum capacity of unwilling workers. Aleatha and Tatham were having a particularly hard time of it, it seemed. Kaihan was instead working at a smaller holding, a farm not far from the Tower, and in this Kaihan had struck lucky: he was less than three hours' walk from the Portal Stone that had been discovered in the Mountains of Mist many years before.
Today Kaihan would finally be able to make the most of his punishment. The farm's mistress, Haraile, had gone away. She was visiting her sister in Baerlon. She had, somewhat foolishly, left her husband in charge. Kaihan had been aware of Malven Roke's weakness for wine from his first day at the farm, when Haraile and Malven had had a very loud, unrestrained argument in the kitchen. Moreover, he knew exactly where Haraile had hidden the last few jars of wine. After such a long deprivation Malven had been gasping for a drink, and the two large jars strategically replaced in the pantry had been uncorked within minutes. Now Kaihan was waiting.
He threw the hoe to the ground in disgust, and seized the Source. Channeling was, of course, strictly forbidden on the farm, but with Haraile's hawk eyes far away and Malven's looking no further than the bottom of his tankard, no one would be any the wiser. Kaihan wove quick, sharp threads of Fire, and the pesky weeds that would have taken minutes to extract manually were little more than charred wisps. Kaihan smiled, satisfied, and took a glance at the farmhouse. He could see right through the kitchen window, and Malven was silhouetted against the bright sunlight that came through the window at the other end of the room. Kaihan thought he could see the old man's hands, wrapped tightly around the tankard in front of him. Malven had been drinking steadily for nearly two hours. Surely it would not be much longer...
Kaihan smiled as Malven slumped forward, his face flat on the table. His hands finally released their stranglehold on the tankard, and flopped to his side. This was his opportunity. Kaihan did not know how long he would have - he hoped the farmer would not move until morning, but he could not be sure. He had to hurry. Saidin still in his grasp, he wove Air and flung the discarded hoe at the farmhouse, dropping it on the top of a small pile of tools. Getting away from the farm would now be easy - other than Haraile and Malven, the only other inhabitant at the time was a novice, a young girl whose questioning look was stifled by a glare from Kaihan as the Dedicated hurried past her.
Kaihan's calves ached and he was sure his feet were blistered by the time he reached his destination. He had kept to a fast pace, and the journey had gone much quicker for it. Now he ignored the pain - it did not matter. If some stiff limbs were what he had to suffer in order to finally be here, so be it. He was staring down at the Portal Stone. The ancient structure was tilted slightly, but otherwise in good condition; it was down in a dell and surrounded by trees, where the wind could not easily reach it. As Kaihan gazed at it he wondered how many people had stood here before him. Who had those people been? Surely no one - or at most very few people - had used this Stone for thousands of years. He took a deep breath, and walked forward.
The wide stone steps, each one the colour of an Ajah, were in as good a condition as the Stone itself. He stood on the bottom step, the rock painted a red that was still quite vivid, almost afraid to go on. Eventually he took the final plunge, and reached out to touch the Portal Stone. If Kaihan had expected to feel anything other than plain rock, he was disappointed. The surface of the Stone was quite smooth, other than the countless symbols engraved into it, and cool to the touch. The Dedicated ran his fingers across it gently, wonderingly. With this single creation, the possibilities were endless.
So many worlds, he thought, almost despairingly. How would he ever find the one Kyelen had been taken to? For he was almost sure that was what had happened to his uncle. He knew the Yellow had not travelled through a Portal Stone, but his experience in the third of the Three Arches could mean little other than that Kyelen was in an alternate world. One of the worlds reached through Portal Stones. But there were so many places he could be. Kaihan put his other hand against the Stone, and stood leaning against it, his eyes closed. The temptation to reach out to saidin was strong, overwhelming. He felt the urge to lash out with the Power, batter the Stone with anything that came to his mind.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped backwards, taking his hands off the great column. To try to travel through it would be stupid. For a start, he knew he was not strong enough; he would burn himself out trying. And even if he could do it, he could end up anywhere. He shuddered at the thought of travelling through the Stone and finding himself buried under a mountain, or in the depths off an ocean. He needed more time. He had to do more research. Even if he could not pinpoint the exact world imprisoning Kyelen, he knew something about it; it was similar to the real world, very similar. It would take time, but by trial and error Kaihan knew he could find his uncle. Not yet, though; he was not ready. He did not have the freedom. Freedom. He sighed, remembering the farm. He had to get back. He turned away from the Stone, and slowly climbed the steps. As he set back in the direction of the farm, his mind was awhirl with thoughts for the future.
