Fanfic:Garren Gaidin

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Garren Gaidin
Author(s)
  • Eve
Character(s)
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Garren sat in his room, reclining for once upon his bed. It was early morning and Garren's usual schedule had not yet pulled him from his bed. Scratching Whisper's ears, he looked curiously towards the door when a loud knock sounded upon it.

Must be a Warder... he thought to himself. Warders were the only ones that could approach his door without something setting off the Wolfkin's senses. To this day, it unnerved him slightly.

Not wishing to keep whomever it was waiting; Garren climbed immediately from his bed and opened the door. At once a note was thrust at him. Confused, he read and reread the words upon the signaturless piece of paper. Looking up to ask the Gaidin something, he blinked when he realized the man was no longer there. He hated when they did that. Sighing, he grabbed his cloak of the chair and wrapped it about his shoulders. Once outside, he instructed Whisper to the Gardens, much to the wolf's irritation. True, usually when it was not stated, he had a habit of taking Whisper with him, however with this there was just something that screamed to Garren that he should come alone. Not having time to argue with the half wolf, he spoke mentally with him as he walked. Thankfully, finally, Whisper relented and left Garren alone. His thoughts drifted as he walked, what was going on? He knew he had done nothing to get in trouble, yet this was so sudden and the man that had come to his room had been so serious. Was it perhaps time for him to... No, surely not. Surely he was just being summoned to assist with some Drin'far'ji or something. And yet, what about that seal? Why would the seal of the Master of Arms be upon it? Could it really be? His thoughts circled uselessly in his head, and as Garren approached the Training Yards he brushed them away in irritation. It would be what it would be, and no amount of worrying would change it.

At the edge of the Training Yards stood a Gaidin that Garren recognized from many of his sessions, however the look upon the man's face plainly stated that he wasn't here to converse. Bowing before the man, Garren didn't even have time to speak when he received a stern "Follow me." Turning from Garren, the man walked away, and wordlessly Garren followed.

However, he was led to the strangest of places a short time later when they entered the Channeling Yards. Looking about curiously, for he had rarely if ever had reason to be here, Garren attempted to find some clue as to what was going on. He spotted an Aes Sedai to the side, her scent colored by concentration. Suddenly, making Garren blink a bit, a silver light seemed to cut through reality itself, directly in front of him. A Gateway, no more than two steps away. Still trying to readjust his eyes, Garren was suddenly pushed headlong into the Gateway. Stumbling for a few steps to keep from losing his balance, Garren whirled around, just in time to watch the gateway snap shut behind him.

He pushed me! Garren thought with surprise of the Gaidin. What under the Light is going on here? Gaidin didn't usually go around pushing unwitting Ji'alantin through Gateways that could lead to anywhere... speaking of which... where was he? Muttering with irritation, now that the Gaidin could not see him do so, Garren surveyed the room. To one side lay a simple table, and Garren blinked as he spotted atop it a staff and his daggers. Approaching the table, he looked at the simple weapon for several moments. He had not yet gotten himself a staff, having little experience with the weapon, and the daggers he could have sworn he left behind him in his room just moments ago. In fact, he had known he had, they had been lying atop his dresser.

Solemnly, he strapped the daggers to his side and picked up the staff. He looked down at the weapon, both with surprise that it was here and with a small amount of humor. It was a straight bo staff made of red oak and while it was unstained it still had been polished to bring out its beautiful red texturing. But what was slightly humorous, and actually quite flattering, was the wolves. Upon one end of the staff three wolves were depicted running, almost tumbling over each other, as if racing towards the opposite end. The humor shifted to wonder as he attempted a couple of moves with it, noting how perfectly the weapon was balanced. While the practice weapons of the Training Yard were good, the quality of this staff highly outshone them. The weapon with which he was most proficient, his hands and feet, could not be separated from him, else Garren suspected they would have left them here as well. Shaking that equally humorous and disturbing image from his mind, Garren waited. After a small amount of time, like his four legged brethren, Garren began to pace.

Suddenly behind him, and making him whirl to face it, the doors opened. The scent of the Borderlands and the always awaiting Blight beyond it assailed Garren's senses in a moment, and in that instance he was able to correctly guess where he was. The Citadel.

He was issued from a small room, directly adjacent to the main courtyard into the courtyard itself. The smell of the Borderlands washed over him again, making Garren inhale deeply and his blood pick up it's pace. In the distance he could feel the greeting of the pack of wolves he had met before, and the sounds of their howls drifted into the courtyard on the wind. He smiled, and mentally returned their familiar greetings.

Meanwhile, before him, his eyes fell instantly upon the figures standing at attention before him. The Executive Council, the sight of them gathered here so made his pulse, already racing in anticipation; pick up its beat further. Here stood Caden Ives, the Master of Arms, and there Sigmund von Danzig, the Master of Spies. Also in attendance was Alyona al'Corodin, the Warder-Channeler Representative. Off to the side stood an Aes Sedai that he did not recognize. Wishing to makes some sort of a positive impression before those that had shaped and molded his life so far, he straightened his back and set his face in a serious expression, striding until he was within a respectable distance. He offered a deep bow to those before him.

"Who comes before the Warder Council?" Sigmund intoned.

Without hesitance, after so many years of instant response to the likes of those before him, he responded. "I, Garren Brighteyes Ji'alantin of the Grey Tower, come before the Council." Falling into the script easily, he found some comfort in it's familiarity during this odd ceremony.

The Warders nodded, and the Master of Arms stepped forward now to speak. Garren had worked with him and under him many times during his training at the Tower, it seemed very appropriate that he supplied Garren's final test. He was certain, now, that it was precisely that: a final task.

"You have trained in our ranks and have been deemed worthy of a final assignment," said the Master of Arms. "Ji'alantin," he continued, "you are called to prove yourself worthy of the fancloak in the wilds of the Blightborder. You have three chances to approach this task. If you choose to step down today, you may come before us twice more. Once you agree to continue your test, however, you may not turn back without immediate failure. Once you accept your test, you must complete the test or you will be put out of the Tower permanently. Do you wish to continue?"

This question had been put to every Gaidin who came before Garren and would face each that follows in his footsteps. Garren rose from his bow, his chin tilting up, just slightly, with the pride his time and training gave him. He looked seriously at Caden Ives Gaidin, the man Garren respected more than any else at the Tower. The man that, for Garren, symbolized all that a Warder should be. He nodded, without doubt or hesitancy.

"I do."

The courtyard was bathed in a solemn hush. "You are called to protect this Aes Sedai, the symbol of your desired duty.

"Return with some token of your struggle; do not return to this fortress until you can bring some proof of your protection before the Council," he said simply. "If you return without such proof, or if you fail in your protection of this Aes Sedai - if she falls under your defense - you will be put out of the Tower permanently."

Garren nodded.

"Light guide your path, and may your test be one of enduring strength." His departure came quickly, rapid-fire, but he liked that. It took away from him the time to think about what was before him, and supplied him with the action reaction situation that Garren preformed best beneath. His Aes Sedai was supplied with a horse, Garren knowing that no equine would allow him upon its back, chose to move alongside the creature she rode, and he silently thanked the Light that it allowed him this close. As soon as he passed beyond the battlements of the Citadel, the thick oaken doors swung shut. In a swirl of activity, he was pushed out into the Blightborder beyond.


Garren and the Aes Sedai, a blue named Larellia Valori Sedai, had moved throughout the wilderness bordering the Blight for two days now. Several times they had come upon the tracks of Trollocs pressed deep into the earth, but as of yet they had seen no other signs. Bent over the dying form of a deer he had just felled, Garren stayed tense. For the last half of their trip the woodland area had been as still as death, he didn't like it. Three times today alone, Garren had sent wolves in all direction to find the reason for the woods to be so strained in fear. It constantly worried him that they found nothing. Ripping his dagger across the throat of the deer, Garren ended its suffering and set about preparing it to be cooked.

He had almost laughed the first day when Larellia Sedai had told him they had brought no food, and that he would need to hunt for them. In a voice so devoid of emotion that it unnerved Garren, she had asked the wolfkin if he could do so without a bow or sling. Desperately keeping his face schooled, he had simply tilted his head to look up at her, and to allow an errant beam of light to illuminate his yellow/gold eyes. Her only response had been a nod. Silent once again, they had continued upon their journey.

Hours later, the two silent figures bent to their wordless meal. Garren was rather proud of it. Though the plants were slightly different here than in the woods that he had grown up, Garren had nevertheless managed to create a meal full of taste. Hungrily he set himself to the task of eating. Apparently, his zeal of eating was less than graceful, for the Aes Sedai stopped to watch him, disapproval in her face. For once, he ignored her. He didn't have time to be graceful, he needed to eat and set about to his watch.

As he watched Larellia wrap herself into her blankets, Garren wondered at the fact that she was so silent. Sure, he was used to this around Aes Sedai, and yet he had thought it might be different once he got alone with her for more than a day. As of yet, with the exception of introductions and a few directions, nothing had changed. He wondered to himself if it would be the same with Jenna; he hoped that it would not be.

Throughout the night, he kept watch, falling asleep only after he had brought in several wolves to watch for him. They had so far refused to come close enough to see whilst Larellia Sedai was awake, but at night they agreed to allow Garren rest. Still, he did this for only a few hours at a time, then kept watch again, then slept, then finally woke to watch the dawn and await the Aes Sedia's arousal.

The third day seemed as if it would, too, pass uneventfully when howls erupted in the forest. Both Garren and his Aes Sedai froze, one looking about her, and the other speaking to the wolves as he strode to stand close to her horse.

"Shining Fang!" The alpha called, a wolf named Shadowhunter that he had met before, "Several Twisted Ones and a Neverborn are in the woods!"

With confusion, Garren asked how they had gotten past all the wolves hunting for them. When he was informed that the wolves had been searching for a group at least three times the size of this one, there seemed to only be about fifteen all told, and had thus not searched so closely together, the wolfkin simply sighed. Turning to Larellia, he explained, "A band of Twisted Ones, led by a Neverborn have been spotted by the wolves."

"How many are there, Garren?" She asked sharply, her eyes peeled into the woods around her in a way that Garren completely approved of. At least she wasn't afraid.

Garren shook his head and concentrated on the wolves again. After a moment he sighed. "Wolves don't count, but I think I saw about fifteen or more..." Could he take out that many, maybe, with the help of the wolves that was, and that didn't include the Neverborn. How did he get himself into this sort of thing?

Larellia nodded, and neither from her scent or her face could Garren guess how this information affected her. Just another reason Aes Sedai could unnerve him. "In which direction are they, Garren?" She asked sharply.

"North west, Larellia Sedai," he answered instantly.

She nodded again, "Good, then we go North and try to move around them." At his incredulous look, quickly covered, she only gave a small unreadable smile before she wheeled her mount Northward. Without another word, she spurred her horse, sending it into a trot, and forcing Garren to keep next to her. It took them the better part of the rest of the day, and twilight was not far away, when Garren called a quick halt to their movement.

"They're up ahead, Larellia Sedai. Within a ten minute run on that accursed animal you ride." He nodded towards the horse and Garren could have sworn he saw a faint smile on the face of the Aes Sedai. He studied her for a moment, trying to gauge if she was serious in this endeavor, before speaking. "Aes Sedai, if I may call in the wolves, then I can have them surround the enemy. With their assistance, I am sure that we can remove this problem quickly and without risk to you." This time he was sure he saw the ghost of a smile cross her face. She knew, as he did, that her safety was first and foremost for him. After a moments thought, she nodded.

At his command, the wolves gathered about the band of Trollocs. In his mind's eye, he could see flashes of the hated creatures and the howls of battle rose into the air. He suppressed the growls that occasionally burst from his chest, and fought ruthlessly against the instinct that wished to move him towards the fight, the instinct that wanted to irradiate the creatures beyond the trees. Movement behind him caused him to turn from the wolves. Larellia Sedai had climbed up into the tree and was currently looking down at him.

Looking down at him as serenely as if she were seated upon the cushions of some throne instead of the branch of a tree, she nodded her head. "Go, Garren. Go to your brothers and gain your proof."

He scowled, and indeed did want to rush away, but held back. Calling sternly to the wolves around him, he wasn't satisfied with leaving her until it was clear to him that she was safe. The wolves he stationed as close to her as they would venture, which when he explained how important to him she was, was close indeed. Then, quickly, he snuck down the hillside towards the sound of battle.

Though he was unused to moving about with the staff supplied to him upon his back, during the last two days he had quickly become used to it. Now, as he ducked below branch and stepped over shrub, he was as silent as he had always been before. For as long as he could, he kept an ear out for his Aes Sedai behind him, and kept half a mind on the wolves watching her.

Hunched down like the wolf he was inside, he spotted a Twisted One and its companion before him. They had just succeeded in battering a wolf from the air and were playing with it, kicking its broken body back and forth across the ground. Its piteous cries as it was struck again and again made Garren growl deep in his chest, and his golden eyes flash in the light. Catching the sound and the flash, one of the creatures turn to inspect the foliage in which Garren had secreted himself away. The wolfkin tensed as it grew near, and gathered his limbs beneath him, barring his teeth. The Twisted One leaned down, thrusting a spear that Garren could easily avoid into the bush.

A half of a moment later, when it had hardly withdrew its crude spear; Garren launched himself from the bush in a flash of deadly daggers and growls. Landing upon its chest, he barreled the larger creature to the ground and implanted one of his daggers into its throat, then scurried back from its gurgling, dying body. Immediately, he swirled to face the second opponent, only to find three waiting for him. He growled, feeling his brothers gather behind him, and stayed low close to the ground. It was a move that he had learned unnerved the creatures, that a ???man' would act as a beast.

With his brethren, he circled around them, growling and snarling. As the wolves darted forward to feign with teeth, he reached forward with his dagger and swiped at their knees and legs. Together they harried at the creatures, watching with satisfaction as they grew more and more panicked. He knew that Twisted Ones hated his kind as a rule, and knew from the start that he had the upper hand. This made his lips pull back in an almost rictus grin, unnerving his opponents even more.

With their already horrible state of mind, the Twisted Ones were put down quickly, and Garren and his ilk spread out, taking any that they crossed from this life. Yet Garren grew increasingly worried, though the rancid scent of the Neverborn was everywhere in the area, Garren had seen no sign of it. As he searched for it, the sight of two of the guards Garren had left around Larellia, the two closer towards him than her, was suddenly snuffed. Garren neither paused nor thought as he whirled upon his heels and ran, full tilt, back towards the tree. Behind him he could hear the thundering sound of the wolves paws hitting the ground as many followed him.

Pushing past branch and bush, Garren sped through the trees, finally stopping where he had left the guard that had died. There, grizzly to his sight, was the poor creature, its features serene. He never saw it coming... Garren thought with pity. Scanning the ground, he looked for traces of the Never Born. Finding none, he quickly continued towards the Aes Sedai, it was the only logical place it could have gone.

His thoughts were reassured a moment later, when he smelled fire. Also smelling the scent, many of the following wolves faltered or stopped behind him, afraid of the flame, Garren never paused. He burst from the trees, several yards still from Larellia, and there was the creature, proceeding towards the treed Aes Sedai calmly, as if the balls of fire being hurled at it were nothing more than trifles. Whenever one came near, it dodged easily, with a grace that frightened Garren. Still, he strode towards it, getting low to the ground and moving as silently as he could.

Fear and hatred clogged his senses, making it seem as if his vision was slowly turning red. In his mind, it seemed as if he could hear the snarls and howls of all his ancestors, crying out for him to slay the beast so hated. He could feel, almost as if it were a palpable thing, his senses drawing further and further towards the bestial side of him he knew he possessed. It was something he knew happened so often when he neared the Neverborn, they seemed to drive him insane, and fill him with the need to kill, savagely. His breath drew in, in a rumbling snarl, low and almost imperceptible. Still, suddenly frightened that he would alert the creature to his presence, he paused. He knew what was happening to him, had experienced it before. He could not, would not, let this happen now. It would succeed only in causing the death of the Aes Sedai, for what love did the wolves, as his mind would then think of himself, have for the Channelers? Light blast failing the test, it would mean her death!

Struggling desperately with himself, and it was a difficult fight indeed, he strove to hold back his instincts, his wolven heritage. It was truly the hardest fight of his life, and seemed to last an eternity. In reality, it was only a fraction of a second, but his mind knew no difference. What saved him was, of course, all the training he had received at the Tower. Summoning up the Void, he let the nothingness consume his fear, along with his hatred. Like wolves howling at the door, these feelings engulfed and circled frantically around the outside of the Void, but no long touched or effected Garren's state of mind. His already heightened wolfkin senses seemed suddenly boosted even more as the Void allowed him to so intently study his surroundings; he breathed in, in a natural inhalation, and could easily smell the scent of even the dead wolf so far behind him.

Now steadied in his resolve and bearing, Garren moved forward once more, silent as the death he carried with him. Because of his raising, because of his wolfkin abilities, because of his training, Garren was already as silent as any fully raised Gaidin, and this was what he drew upon now. Slipping steadily closer and closer to the Neverborn, Garren drew the long bone dagger at his hip. His oldest friend, his closest ally, the irony made his lips draw back in a humorless grin as he slipped, so far undetected, into the place a shadow should be on the Neverborn, if they hadn't been beneath so many trees. Here he stopped, allowing the Neverborn to step away... one... two... three steps. With each step the creature took, Garren tensed his muscles beneath him a little more, using the movement and the smallest of sounds to disguise his movements. Then, finally, Garren was prepared and the creature was just the right distance away from him.

Garren leapt.

Blade bared before him, he launched himself onto the Neverborn's back and plunged the dagger as deep as he could into the place where its neck met its collar bone. Surprised, the monster shrieked and flailed around, tossing Garren to the ground as easily as a child would a rag doll. Still oozing copious amounts of the black ichor that seemed to be its blood, it advanced upon him sword first. Leg bent painfully beneath him, but he was rather certain not broken, he skittered back away from the black figure before him and watched calmly as it advanced.

As it drew close, Garren's leg sprang out and swept around in a wide arch, attempting to knock it off its feet. The Neverborn evaded easily, but it gave Garren the few seconds he needed to through his balance forward, snapping him back to his feet. His hand went behind him, pulling the staff off of his back. It was hardly the weapon to use against a Neverborn, but he was hoping it would buy him a few much needed seconds while he thought.

The creature must have seen Garren's eyes, or noticed the wolves circling outside the fire, because it rasped in a voice that was threatening, and knowing. "Wolfkin..." The very sound of its accursed voice sent revulsion sliding past and wrapping round the Void that still encircled him. It laughed, a sound that could make the skin of a dead man crawl.

Garren met its laugh with a grin, rictus and gruesome, "Neverborn..." He growled back, his voice an emotionless flat line. Though the creature had no eyes, he kept his own focused upon its black cowl, using his peripheral to see its movements. Part of him tempted that it would be easier to deal with the creature if the rage of his wolven hatred were fueling him, but this too was swept away by the Void, replaced by the certainty that rash movement would get him killed. So will this staff! he thought to himself as the Neverborn moved in, aiming a stab for Garren's mid torso. Garren blocked by back and side stepping, and brought the staff up towards the creature's sword arm, pushing the sword and arm away but doing no more damage. This circle went on, with the creature placing Garren more and more towards the defense. It was all the wolfkin could do to keep from getting cut by the accursed weapon.

Then the Neverborn moved forward in a move similar to Courtier Taps his Fan, inside the Void Garren smiled. Dropping the staff before he could rethink his move, he brought up both hands. His left hand caught the creature by the elbow and his right by the wrist. Pushing upwards with his left, and pulling backwards with his right, Garren twisted his form to throw the monster up and over him. It surprised him that it was as light as a human, something in his mind had insisted that it would be too heavy to move.

It hit the ground, sword flying far, and Garren did not let go of its wrist. The hand that had been holding its elbow went for his belt, grabbing for the spare dagger he kept upon his left. Twisting and pulling until he had the Neverborn's arm trapped behind it and its face to the ground, Garren pinned it with his knees, holding on for the ride of his life. Swift as an arrow, he drew the dagger in front of then across its throat, its blood upon the ground of the wood. He cut deep, much deeper than it would need to kill a human, and flinched went the dagger hit and caught upon the spine. Dragging through, he finished his grisly business and stepped back. The creature refused to die, thrashing upon the ground in a mockery of the deadly grace it had in life. But it seemed unable to regain its feet. Breathing heavily, Garren stepped back from the creature to observe if for a long moment.

Larellia touched his shoulder several moments later, softly as if he would spook. However, the wolfkin had heard her moving from the tree and had scented her approach long before her touch. He simply turned his face a fraction of an inch, so that his golden eyes could see her face.

"It will take a long time for the thing to die." She explained.

Garren simply nodded, he knew this. "Still, I shall watch until it does." He returned his attention to the creature, despite his exhaustion. Luckily, this too was caught by the Void he still held. Larellia Sedai nodded, and withdrew a decent distance. The Twisted Ones having died with the Neverborn, the woods were eerily silent as the two set to watch.


The stalwart shadow of the Citadel rose up against the bleak horizon before him. He urged his legs onward and glanced yet again to the Aes Sedai at his side. It was with the last of his strength that he forged towards the fortress in the distance. Completion, success: two lovely words indeed.

The test - his final test - was finished.

His approach was noted and measured carefully, and with immaculate timing, the heavy gate to the Citadel creaked open.

Again, once inside the quiet and functional courtyard, he was faced by the Executive Council. "Dismount, Ji'alantin." The Master of Arms had stepped forward. He complied with the order. "Do you come bearing proof of your success?"

Without a word, in truth to tired to speak, Garren nodded and removed from his side the make shift bag he had tied there. Luckily, after the time it had taken to reach the Citadel, it had long since dried. Untying the knot at the top, Garren removed the leather from around the head of the Neverborn, letting its dead eyeless gaze point toward a random wall. He also dropped beside it the sword of the creature, wrapped as well in leather, and unfolded this to lie beside the other gruesome trophy. The Master of Arms nodded and fell back. With his proof collected, Garren was neatly led away by a silent servant, clad in the livery of the Tower. The Council remained, alone, in the courtyard, to study and deliberate over his evidence. His Aes Sedai, his charge, remained as well. He was taken first to a small, bright room, clean and warm. There he found a large bath, the hot water sent wisps of steam towards the high ceiling. He remembered learning the purification rituals in lessons past, and he approached the bath simply, quietly, and reverently.

Having shed weapons and filthy clothing, and having finished the bath, he was presented with a white tunic, a red robe, and a black doublet. The small sign of the Grey Tower was embroidered on each. And finally, once again he was led into the courtyard. The Gaidin and Gaidar of the Citadel had assembled themselves in a wide semicircle. At the center, however, stood the Master of Arms.

"Come forward." Without a word, or a glance around him, Garren complied. "Kneel."

"Do you come before your assembled brothers and sisters with a noble and just heart, wishing to join us as a Gaidin of the Tower?"

"I do." Pride filled him, as well as a deeper feeling, the feeling of a job well done. He had completed the first of his difficult tasks, for he knew that what was now before him, the life all Warders led, would prove even more difficult than the days he had just completed. Still, it was a victory, and he allowed himself a moment's peace to know this.

"Do you promise to uphold the Light in all you do, to live a life of duty, truth, and goodness?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to serve and guard the Grey Tower faithfully?"

"I do."

"And finally, do you vow to devote your life to this cause, to swear yourself to the Light, the Tower, and the pursuit of justice?"

"Under the Light, and by my hope of salvation, I do." Never before had he spoken words like this, and yet, they were the truest things that had ever left his lips.

The Master of Arms was handed his staff. Taking it in both hands, he paused for a moment. "May the Light bless this and its bearer, and may the Light illumine the path of this warrior." And then he handed Garren his weapon.

"Rise." He was handed another bundle, then, this one from the Warder-Channeler Representative. He recognized this second gift immediately; the fluid fabric looked weightless, reflecting a myriad of color and shadow. The Master of Arms unfurled the fancloth cloak, a mirror image of the ones all Warders wore.

"I grant you the title of Gaidin; you are a Brother of Battle, and a Warder under the banner of the Grey Tower." With great gravity, then, he draped the cloak over Garren's shoulders and hooked the clasp at his neck. "Welcome."

And for a moment, the stony faces of the surrounding Warders relaxed. The Warder-Channeler Representative, Alyona al'Corodin, stepped forward. "By the power vested me by the Amyrlin Seat and M'Hael of the Grey Tower, I acknowledge and witness the raising of this Gaidin of the Grey Tower. You are entrusted to protect one Aes Sedai or Asha'man of your choosing to fulfill your destiny."

And then the deed - performed by the Master of Arms, and sanctioned by the Tower itself - was finished.