Fanfic:Gareth's Three Arches

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Gareth's Three Arches
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Gareth was not a man easily given to trepidation, but as he had been led into the room containing the great ter'angreal arches, there could be no denying the thrill of fear that rushed through him and caused his muscles, for the briefest of moments, to seize up. Despite this, however, he kept walking and listening to the words as they were spoken around him. He even managed to speak when it was necessary. He had not, after all, come all this way to turn around now. His Borderlander pride would not allow it.

Somehow the words 'I accept' passed from his lips.

The first time is for what is. Be steadfast. The way back comes but once.

Those words echoed in his ears just in the moments before he took a breath... and the largest leap of faith in himself that he had ever taken in his life.

The First Arch

The sound of steel upon steel echoed despite the open walls of the small stable. Heat wafted into his face in short waves as one brawny arm swung the hammer, pounding molten steel into a perfect arc that would conform to the hoof of a horse. The original set of shoes had been too large for a horse of this size and Gareth had needed to use the fire of the stable along with the anvil he'd heaved from his cart to bend it down.

Just outside, placidly tied to a stable support beam, stood the pony whose feet he was shoeing. She was a pretty little bay who was aged enough to have white hairs newly dotting her sweet face, but was still young and spry in her movements. Even though a man of his size never had any chance of riding such a creature - he was by far too large - he would always prefer to docile ones to the fiery ones that others seemed to prefer.

This, without doubt, was born of his experiences putting shoes on the horses. The hot tempered ones were far more likely to kick or bite him, and Gareth (like most people) simply didn't take well to that, as he liked his knees just the way they were.

With the curve perfected and conformed to just the way he liked it, he took the gleaming hot metal and doused it into the water bucket. Leaning back, he kept the steam from blasting back into his face but it only went to continue to over-heat his chest and arms, which were bared to the air of the gently warm spring day. The cool but quiet breeze seemed to go a long way to keep the horse calm as she was, because it kept the flies away but was not over-powering.

"Good girl," he rumbled in low, soothing tones once the shoe was ready to be placed on the horse. He ran his hand along her side as he walked towards her rump, the hand going down her leg to her hoof, letting her know each step of the way what was going on. Lifting the hoof, he turned to hold it between his knees and placed the shoe, taking nails from his leather apron and the hammer from its loop by his thigh. She twitched a little, but his soothing sounds eased her while he hammered the shoe into place.

Gareth had just let her put her foot down and was stepping up beside her, scratching her behind her ears (as her head was roughly level with his chest) when there were the sounds of furious horse beats coming from the road not far away from the stable. It was the sound of a horse moving at a full gallop, and the blacksmith apprentice frowned, wondering what was going on. Having grown up in the Blight border, his first thought was that it was some sort of raid... but even for a Border nation, this was pretty far south for that.

"Gareth!" the horseman shouted once he was in sight and ear shot.

Gareth recognized the voice of his friend Dai. Immediately alert now, the larger man - though still near his adolescence - rushed out of the barn just as Dai was wielding the horse around. The grey danced with agitation, sensing the emotions of the rider upon him.

"Gareth, it's your father's smithy. There's a fire, and-"

It was as much as he was able to say. Terror rushed rampant through ever nerve of Gareth's body as he whirled around, but the pulling pony that had tugged the cart here was not enough to carry Gareth, who had initially walked out here - but he had not been in a rush then.

"Take him!" Dai shouted, dismounting quickly from the large horse - not the common Saldean cavalry variety, but not uncommon either - and handing the reins to Gareth. Despite having been born in Saldea (as far as he knew) and raised there, he did not have as much experience with riding as some of his friends and peers - namely because of his size. He knew enough, however, and was still more skilled than the average non-Saldean who had not been born in a Saldean.

Pulling himself into the saddle swiftly, the horse was already fired up and ready to rush, tearing off back down the road towards the town center, where Einion and Gareth had their smithy.

Gareth Tomosan could see the flames licking the sky and the smoke filling it before he even had the building in sight.

His heart was already hurting.

The grey pulled up instinctively as they reached the clutch of people who were all encircled around the smithy, passing buckets of water from a town well to try to put the flames out. Gareth practically leapt from the back and barged through them, in a way quite unlike his usual self but everyone understood as soon as they realized what had happened. No one hindered him. Even were it not his adoptive father, his strength would prove useful in the hauling of the heavy buckets.

Time seemed to slow, and speed up, as Gareth moved. At one terrible point, he thought he heard the screams from within. He dropped a bucket and was going to rush in, when...

A silver light flashed to the right.

He tried to ignore it, but something stopped him.

Be steadfast. The way back comes but once.

The silver arch flickered again.

Gareth trembled, immobilized for an instant. Finally, he roared as though he was a branch being wrenched from the tree; or like he was a heart being ripped out of a body, but he pulled himself away from the crowd and the smithy, making a head-long dash for the arch and leaving behind the confused cries of the crowd, the flashes of flame and what he would only ever remember as the death screams of his adoptive father.


Tumbling on to the floor, Gareth felt like he was a single raw nerve. The hard tiles below him were cold and gave a harsh reminder of where he now was and the reality of what he had just experienced. He knew, as he was drawn up, that he had made it. He had been steadfast and had survived the first arch, the cold water and intoned words grounded him into that, but he could not erase the sounds from his ears.

Another arch came before him. His eyes stared at it for a moment, almost not comprehending until the words resounded in his ears.

The second time is for what is. Be steadfast. The way back comes but once.

The Second Arch

There were loud noises all around and the unmistakable sense of action, and urgency. Both of these were the life blood of the Citadel, in many ways. Gareth had learned this during the final lesson of his class in the basics of Healing with Saidin. Today he was here with special dispensation in the assistance of a Yellow Aes Sedai named Thea Sedai. He had assisted her a few times in the Infirmary and she thought that he showed a lot of potential, so he was spending the day with her here.

Gareth wasn't using the One Power to do more than Delve while here, but he was still helping in the running around and gathering of items that she asked for. He felt like he was really making a contribution and it was the reaffirmation of the decision he had made the instant he knew he would be coming to the Grey Tower.

Thea Sedai was further assisted by her Warder, a man named Ryne Gaidin. He was aged, in as much as Gareth had yet seen Warders aged, but still strong and able. He was one of the few men Gareth had met who was taller than he was as well, though not by much. He had a Borderlander's sense to him, although Gareth had yet to be able to place it. His features seemed of a culture long lost, but his attitude was more like a Shienaran or a Saldean, and his eyes were Saldean.

The Soldier was not afforded too much time to think about it, however.

"Gareth," Thea's voice was easily able to rise above the noise. "Bring that basket here, child!" Gareth had learned that all of her level of rank called the Learning Ranks 'child'. He had not been offended by it to begin with, but simply thought it odd until he acclimated to it. Now he didn't even think on it.

Hefting a rather large basket of coiled bandages, as well as a smaller basket on top with herbs wrapped in cloth, he carried it easily over to Thea's side. She was kneeling beside the bed of a woman in the garb of the Tower Guard. Blood had saturated the fabric through out and the woman was unconscious, which Gareth could not help but think was a fortunate thing for the injured woman.

In the very middle of Thea's work, however, the woman did wake up. Her eyes flashed open, but looked upon nothing. They swung blindly up to the ceiling and she cried out in pain and began jerking, but there was no conscious intent present.

"Hold her by the shoulders so she doesn't hurt herself!" Thea ordered and Gareth moved around to her head, placing broad hands upon the woman's shoulders. The legs were so injured that there was no moving there, so the pressure - firm and gentle - kept her down while Thea did something with the One Power calmed her. Gareth obviously couldn't see the Saidar weaves, but the bumps rising on his arms proved that she had, indeed, channeled.

The cries of the woman in the Tower Guard garb continued to echo through Gareth's head, but he had heard a lot of these screams while assisting here in the Citadel's injured wards. Stoic was stoic, but pain was pain and many could not prevent the cry. The body did it of its own accord and only a very small few that he had ever met could stop themselves from making noise under such strain.

When they had completed with her, Thea and Ryne moved off in one direction while they sent Gareth to find the next patient. Many of those in his immediate vicinity had already been treated, so he began moving outside that singular circle. He drifted in the direction of the door into this room, where more injured were being brought in. There was a rather large scale Trolloc raid crashing against the walls of the Citadel and it had caught a force from the Tower that had been moving with out.

It had simply been an unfortunate sequence of events, and it had caused the Yellows and other Healers here to be far more worked than they had anticipated.

"I need some help here!" a tall, dark-haired Gaidin shouted from the door. He was carrying a smaller woman in his arms. She had dark hair and eyes that kept rolling back in her head for moments before righting themselves. Both of them were familiar, and...

They were the two that Gareth had Healed during his class final!

Gareth began to rush in their direction and even with Delving, and from a distance, he could see the profuse amount of blood that came from a wound at her side. She was moving in and out of consciousness while her comrade carried her in, finding a free cot to lay her upon. Gareth was moving closer, when he saw something at the very edge of his awareness.

The silver light beckoned.

Be steadfast. The way back comes but once.

"Oh no," Gareth whispered, freezing in his tracks.

The Gaidin frowned, unable to see what Gareth could see, even though he glanced in that direction and then frowned angrily when he saw nothing to distract the boy. "Soldier," the Gaidin said in a low, ominous tone.

"I'm sorry," Gareth whispered before pulling himself away and rushing for the silver light of the arch ahead of him.


Maintaining his feet as he stumbled free of the Second Arch, Gareth still gave a sudden and sharp inhalation, as if he was being suffocated and had only now been released. Deep in his heart, the part of him that was called to the Yellow Ajah - that just wanted to help people - was deeply wounded by this repeated enforcement of having to leave things behind - not being able to help while he was there.

He knew, of course, that this was what the Arches were meant to do. You had to make the choice and you had to be strong in the face of such circumstances...

It didn't make it hurt any less.

The words to come flowed over him like the water poured from the second chalice. He heard them as he had felt the water, but he only barely noticed.

The third time is for what will be. Be steadfast. The way back comes but once.

Feeling the clutch of tears inside his broad chest, Gareth closed his eyes and found courage somewhere deep down and stepped through the Third, and final, Arch.

The Third Arch

The countries that made up the Blight Border always felt different than every other country in the world. Gareth Asha'man knew that for all the years of his life, be that number shorter or longer, it would be so. Every Borderlander knew that. Being from this country was much a part of the people born here as their own blood was. Not all countries were like this, though some were.

He was riding down a road bracketed by forest land. It led away from a village that had been ravaged by a plague which he and some of his Yellow kin had come to assist. Though they had not been able to discover the source of the disease, they had been able to Heal the people. They knew that there was a chance they would be back, but at least they had done what they could for the moment.

Presently, they were planning to stay in the area for a few days more and would be staying at the Inn of the city near by. The village itself had not had an Inn and could not comfortably keep their numbers.

"It's the children that are always the hardest," the woman riding to his immediate right said. For an instant, he could not recall her name. It was like she was unknown to him, and yet he knew that he knew her. After that split second passed, however, her name returned to him and he remembered that she was very important to him.

"Aye, but we took care of them," he rumbled gently, just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the horse's feet upon the hardened road.

She smiled at him.

Before long, the group arrived at the Inn. Rooms had been arranged before hand, so they did not have to worry about availability. They all went to their separate rooms to clean up after a long day's work and then all retired to the Common Room for dinner and to spend a little while listening to the music. Some even danced, though Gareth - and thus the woman with him - was not among them. He had never been much for dancing.

The night aged quickly all around the group from the Tower and they went to bed, Gareth and the woman - a fellow Aes Sedai from his Ajah - shared a room, and a bed.

In two days time, they returned to the Tower.

It was a few days after their return that his lover showed the first signs of an illness that progressed quite rapidly. It was the same illness that they had seen in the village, but for some reason it happened differently in her. It was... more viscous, if ever you could truly call something with no will or intent viscous or benign.

Gareth, a very skilled Healer, used his great many skills to try to save her, but for naught. He delved into the many books at the disposal of the Yellow, looking for any knowledge - modern or arcane - that might help her.

One very late evening, he found something that maybe, just maybe, would help.

Just on the other side of the room, a silver arch flickered.

Be steadfast. The way back comes but once.

"Light, no," he whispered. Realization pounded into his head and his heart seized with pain, hearing the soft moans of the woman in the other room. "Don't make me do this..."

The silver light flickered again, as if reprimanding him.

"Gareth," the woman's voice called weakly from the other room.

He felt warm tears begin to drift down his face. Gareth could not force himself to run to this one, as every step felt like condemnation, as he brought himself to the Arch, and forced himself through it.

"Gareth..."


"You are washed clean of what you were. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You are a Dedicated of the Grey Tower. Welcome, Son. Welcome."