Fanfic:Duty of Battle; Chronicles of Valadin
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Like the other Soldiers arrayed beside him, Val eagerly awaited the start of the day’s lesson. A unit of Soldiers, twenty of the strongest amongst their class, stood at the ready near the Tower’s Traveling grounds while several Dedicated studied their charges with callous indifference. For the older members of the Tower this particular lesson was one among many rites of passage that a male channeler would go through during his years, but for those experiencing it for the first time…the excitement was unbearable.
A weasel faced Cairhienin snorted disdainfully at a pair a younger pair of Soldiers that jostled each other playfully like a pair of puppies. In his own right, Valadin shared their enthusiasm though he remained as stalwart as any; discipline had been a hard lesson to learn, but the difficult times he’d faced in the past year had readied him well.
Soon all chatter stilled as a silver line glowed at the center of the grounds which always remained cleared for the Gateways that were opened. Positioned in the defense towers surrounding the clearing were archers, arrows nocked for enemies that may potentially find their way through. That possibility worried Val, but his nerves quickly cooled as he noted the complex weaves of the Gateway and made a mental note for later use. As the line widened into a circle, a small four-man unit of Dedicated emerged headed by a Ghealdanin, who carried himself with the import of a leader. Taller than Valadin, the man had a straight nose framed by strong masculine facial features. His skin seemed darker than was normal even for his kinsman and while his clothes like the others were dusted in soot, his gait contained no signs of fatigue or disorientation.
“Men, rest up. We’ve had a hard tour and we’ve earned the right to gather ourselves. Reports will keep coming in, but for now we’ve been relieved.” The other Dedicated responded with curt nods, their eyes haunted by stories too chilling to share at the moment. Valadin kept his resolve from being shaken by the horror in their eyes; they had done their duty—so would he when the time came. “For the Dragon! For the Light! For the Grey Tower!” the Ghealdinin suddenly called out with a pumping fist into the air.
“FOR THE GREY TOWER!” the man roared back, life returning to their forms as the snapped into a unified salute towards their leader.
“Dismissed!”
The Tower Dedicated who had been waiting quietly all the while moved as the other men departed from the grounds. Severius, one of the Tower Dedicated signaled for the cadre of Soldiers to follow him, while one of the other Tower Dedicated spoke with the Ghealdinin.
“You are aware that you’re a day late, Garyas. The lesson was to be given today and the Mas—”
“Enough,” Valadin heard the Ghealdinin squad leader Garyas say. His voice was winter cool, yet as immovable in its strength as a mountain. At a word, the other Dedicated’s lips sealed shut. “I will meet with the Master of Soldiers at day’s end, but first…”
Now Garyas stopped. The party of Soldiers and Dedicated had now marched to one of the vacant plots of land designed to facilitate channeling. Wide rocky, fields extended in every direction with no one save for the men gathered. Though the Tower grounds were limited in its size, this section faced the Mountains of the Mist and reached all the way to the pass that led into its valley.
Valadin felt himself straighten as did the two Soldiers beside him when those hard, brown eyes ran over him. Lines of weariness seemed unnatural on the young man’s face though Valadin could tell by the rasp of his voice that Garyas had to have seen at least his fortieth winter. The other Dedicated silently moved away in expectation as the Ghealdinin stalked through the rows of Soldiers that stared blankly into the distance.
“You have all experienced your first taste of Saidin and you’ve been found to be among the most gifted in strength of the One Power. That is why you’re here.” Garyas continued walking through the ranks, stopping two men to Valadin’s right. “Make no mistake: some of you will die today. Those of you that don’t will know what it means to face battle. It’s not my intention to lose any of you, but even on my first lesson—any of these Dedicated’s first lesson in One Power warfare, we lost people. So I ask you: if you do not wish to risk your life then leave now. You’ll receive ample opportunity to learn when you become Dedicated.”
More than half the original flock stepped away, rejoining the Tower Dedicated who looked on solemnly. Some seemed to be fighting sneers at the cowardice of the abandoning Soldiers while others appeared mournful of the handful that remained. Valadin stood amongst those wanting to receive the day’s lesson. Sweat trickled down his neck as he fought the urge to look at his fellow men. With every passing moment his heart hammered against his innards as a war of consternation waged within him. Should I step aside? I can’t die now; Nykk is waiting for me! Durent Asha’man had said he’d teach me anyway. I…I could just…no! No! I must stay. I must endure; it is my duty! The storm quieted a little after the conscious decision was made, but anxiety was still pulling at him when Garyas finally spoke again.
“Good. Now I want rows at least 2 ribbons apart. Light shine upon us, it looks like we’ve got complete pairs today!” Garyas laughed, his words almost mocking in how insensitive they were to the sickly pallor that the Soldiers’ faces had taken on.
Even so obedience became second nature to a good Soldier. Orders were followed regardless of feeling. Very early in his stay, Valadin had learned that insubordination was more than simple defiance of authority; it was a betrayal of the trust that one’s brothers put in him. He’d never looked at the other Soldiers—or anyone in the Tower save for Nykk—as friends, but the idea of staining that sense of brotherhood gave him knots in his stomach.
“You! There! Yes, the short one with the nose! From where do you hail?!”
“Cairhien, Dedicated!” It was the Soldier from earlier who answered 20 or 30 paces to his left and across from him.
“Aye, I could tell there was something greasy about you. I see now that we’ve got a weasel in the hen house!” Garyas bellowed in jest. The other Dedicated, now far removed from the arrangement laughed, their merriment distantly heard, but the effect was immediate upon the Cairhienin Soldier. Still, to the man’s credit, he said nothing despite the darkening cloud of anger that was apparent in his expression. “Anger. Good, let’s see if we can’t use that. Surely you can weave a simple Flame in my direction, no? Let’s see it!”
Instantly the back of Valadin’s neck prickled as an ominous aura swelled from the direction of the Cairhienin. The amount of the One Power the Soldier held was close to what Val had drawn upon himself in practice when no watching eyes were around. Bright orange-white flames streamed towards Garyas, yet the Ghealdinin didn’t evade or look prepared to move out of the way. Valadin swallowed in preparation to hear the man’s screams of agony as his flesh blackened and peeled from the bone when Power began radiating from Garyas as well. Where the Cairhienin was comparable to Valadin, Garyas’s Power briefly spiked higher than Val had ever dared to channel and in an instant the flames vanished with the Cairhienin stumbling backwards as it struck physically. I felt it. I think…two weaves…white and red intertwined. Fire…and…Spirit?
“Again!” Garyas called, this time with no preamble.
Immediately tongues of fire raced towards the Dedicated, their size and girth on a much greater scale than before. The Soldier’s face twisted in hateful effort as veins climbed the length of his neck and bulged at his temples. Red colored the pale man’s skin as before, but again the Soldier’s weaves were cut down mid-air and splintered into the nothingness while he staggered a few steps before falling onto a knee. “Rise, Soldier! Battle won’t wait for you to catch your wind!” Garyas snapped.
“All of you!” he barked again as the stunned Cairhien uncertainly found his legs, “Begin! Ranks on the right attack with fire, their opposites must practice cutting down the Weaves! Now! Go! Go! Go!”
Perspiration glistened on Valadin’s neck. The sun overhead brutally shone on him as the thick Asha’man coat captured the heat to cook him in his dark colored tunic from the inside out. Focus!. Fortune found him on the receiving end of a streak of fire that raced towards him. Instinct reached out to fear’s familiar embrace, but training diverted Val’s thoughts as he imagined a single Flame within a Void. All concerns were fed into that lone fire until nothing else existed.
Then the roar of Saidin flooded him. Like a great living thing, the wild energy churned within him, filling his veins like lightning and scorching his innards like ice-fire. As it was in each drawing of Saidin’s power Valadin felt as if he were teetering on the edge of abyss, the slightest push sending him tumbling into its bottomless depths. Training had given him the tools required to master this feeling and within moments he wrestled Saidin into submission. Like any stallion it fought against its restraints, but for the time being it was his to command. With new eyes Val saw the world.
Everything was clearer, sharper as he watched the developing Weaves from the Soldier position ten paces from him. He was vaguely aware of the evil aura originating from his fellow Soldier; it was nothing close to what currently churned inside of him. With a gesture he formed a crudely shaped lance of Fire and Spirit, the two weaves appearing smooth and transparent as they took shape a steps ahead of him. As the fire reached out to him he struck at the Weaves streaming from the Soldier, snuffing the flames out in an instance. From the veil of Saidin he felt neither pleasure nor anger, only a rightness of how his weave had felt. It was as if the One Power approved of his craftsmanship.
With his heightened hearing Val heard the call for another exchange and once again tugged on Saidin’s reins, willing it to follow his lead. This time the feeling of menace grew as the Soldier, a waif of a man with grey touching his beard, appeared to be straining as he drew more of Saidin. From within Saidin’s folds he felt no fear, but caution did cross the Void as he readied another ribbon of Fire and Spirit. Around the pair others seized Saidin, the feeling of the Power pulling Val’s attentions in many different directions at once. Even so the Soldier before him continued to draw greedily on the Power, a euphoric smile touching his lips as he foolishly plunged forward.
“No! Stop!” Valadin shouted as he realized the danger, his weave fell apart. “You, idiot!”
No sooner had the words been spoken the Soldier’s aura winked out and his eyes rolled into his head as he dropped to the ground convulsing. Valadin carefully relinquished Saidin before starting towards the fallen Soldier. He’d only taken a couple of steps when something hard struck him and sent him sailing backwards several feet before landing in a crumpled heap. Hurrying to his feet again, Val quickly fell into battle stance though he was armed with no weapon, eyes sweeping the field for any who might have been guilty of the attack.
Garyas stood before with a stern look on his face, “You should’ve been ready for that. On the battlefield there aren’t any second chances.”
Incredulously Val motioned towards the quivering Soldier, his thrashings more tame than before though his condition seemed little improved, “He’s bloody dying! Light, what are you about?!” he shrieked before getting ready to run towards the Soldier.
This time Valadin felt the Weaves of Air Garyas formed. Menace pulsated angrily from the Dedicated, but Val wasn’t deterred by the man’s exceptional talent this time; it was their duty to protect and serve the Light—that included one another!
He allowed his anger to be swallowed up by the Flame leaving behind only raw determination with which he subdued Saidin quickly. When Garyas Weaves of Air reached to grab him, Valadin was ready. With savage efficiency he formed ribbons of Spirit and Fire, cutting through each Arm of Air before it would fully form. Each time he followed with a quick burst of Fire to draw Garyas’ attention away from his advance; he needed to reach the Soldier and get a Healer as quickly as possible. Even urgency within the Flame and Void resolved itself in an unbending will to achieve that which he sought. Saidin responded to him, the mighty river turning where he demanded it as the Power he drew in grew enough to rival even that of the Dedicated.
Between breathes he wove Spirit and Fire. The ribbons slicing through Garyas’ Weaves like a blade cleaving flesh. Only this blade was ‘felt’ rather than seen and its sharpness was unmatched. The Dedicated’s expression had turned from one of callous disregard to feral determination as he’d been pushed back several steps by Valadin. Soon they were separated by a small patch of grass which had been partially blackened by a misfire from Val. In a way the feeling was familiar. The tense anticipation between attack and defense was similar to what he experienced in the Yards, but Saidin magnified the effect as he cut down another Weave, this time with little effort. Before Garyas could answer with another Weave, Val threw himself at the Dedicated, his weight and momentum carrying them both to the ground.
“He needs help, Dedicated! What are you doing?! Save him!” he demanded hoarsely.
Garyas shifted his weight in a deft maneuver and before Val could react he was pinned beneath the Ghealdinin with no way to move his arms or escape. Even so, he thrashed wildly and thought of seizing Saidin when a dizzying blow to the jaw dazed him. “Enough Soldier, you’ve done well.” Garyas said when it was obvious Val had calmed.
A series of quick commands saw some of the observing Dedicated attending to the fallen Soldier, but the grim looks on their faces sent a clear message about the conclusion. All activity had stopped as the other men awaited the fate of the brother. Though their connection couldn’t be called a true brotherhood they had suffered with one another and risen to the top of their group; there was no denying that a loose rapport had been built in that time.
“You did well,” Garyas commented while looking blankly at the scene of Dedicated examining the Soldier and sending Weaves into his body. Nevertheless the fallen man remained deathly still. “Despite it being your first time dueling with the One Power you cut down Weaves as if you’d done it before. It took me months to get over the fright before I could properly form the Weaves in battle. You managed it from the start…know that not everyone has that kind of strength.” Nodding towards where they were now lifting the Soldier into air, Garyas spoke the words Valadin had been dreading to hear. “He’s burned himself out most likely. He’ll never channel again and will probably dismissed from the Tower within a fortnight.”
Knowing that leaving now would be a violation of his duty, Valadin kept his eyes straight, angry silence burning at the tip of his tongue, but he refused to let the words free. You could’ve bloody saved him. It was yer duty.
As if in understanding the Ghealdinin called the lesson to conclusion. They had begun at midday and by the time they returned to the Tower’s main grounds, the sun had descended considerably. Garyas spoke to each of the men who had volunteered to go through with the lesson, his words accompanied by a pat on the shoulder before dismissing them to their other duties. When time came to break words with Valadin, the man appeared to soften.
“You’re fine man, Soldier and you’ll serve the Light honorably. You’ve got a lot to learn about loss, but you’ll be someone people can rely on when the Dragon calls us to stand at his side. Remember…the pain you’re feeling now; it’ll make you stronger tomorrow.”
As Garyas clapped him on the shoulder and headed in the direction of the Master of Soldiers personal quarters, Val stared after the Dedicated wondering what sort of duty made someone abandon a fellow warrior. Then he wondered if he could ever abide that kind of code even if it was in service to the Light.
