Fanfic:How to Survive (Badly)
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The Journey and Day One
"Nesir Drin'far'ji," Nesir turned at the sound of his name to face a Sa'Ji'dar, not one Nesir knew which was probably a good thing; it meant the girl did not hate him yet. Unless she had heard of him, because that was perfectly possible, his list of those to be wary of had grown. He bowed, respect hammered into him in the four years he had been in the yards. Four years of pain.
"Jip Gaidin wants to see you, he is at the stables," the girl told him, she was Aiel, taller than Nesir by a long way. Nesir frowned but nodded and set off at a jog towards the stables, wondering what this was about. Was he in trouble again? Nesir tried to think, he could not think of anything he had done to warrant punishment in the last few days, but who knew. He got punished undeservedly all the time.
It did not take him long to arrive at the stables. Why there? He spotted the Master of Training stood with three of Gaidin and he slowed to a walk as he approached, bowing again and waiting for Jip to notice him. He did so much quicker than Nesir expected and they all stepped up to him. Nesir kept his face emotionless as he waited for them to speak. Exactly how much trouble was he in?
"Gi...give m...me y...your we...weapons N...Nesir D...Drin'far'ji," Nesir's eyes flickered to Jip, but he slowly gave him the couple of throwing daggers he had on him. Two of them were from the set Latonia had given him on Wintersnight and one had been given to him from his first teacher, who had later been made M'Hael of the Tower and then been killed by the shadow. Then he handed over his knife that he kept at his belt, this knife was one he could fight with, though throwing it would be hard.
He went to hand over his belt knife, one that would be useless for fighting with or throwing, it was an eating and general utility knife but Jip Gaidin gestured that he could keep that. One of the Gaidin then searched him, to make sure he had no more weapons. Nesir held his breath hoping they did not find his final dagger, it was well hidden though, and they did not find it. Good job, as it would be questioned, it was very obvious a knife for killing.
The Gaidin took something out of his pocket and before Nesir could react he wrapped it round Nesir's eyes. Nesir lashed out, blindly. What was going on? Why was he being attacked? He went cold as the worst case scenario hit him. Did they know the truth? That he was not truly Nesir Aeser? He fought harder but was soon subdued and he felt his arms being tied.
"Stop it lad," one of the Gaidin was saying, "We are not going to hurt you, trust us." Nesir paused not trusting them but knowing there was little he could do when blindfolded and tied. He felt himself being moved and lifted, something large and soft. A horse, Nesir felt hands behind him. "If we untie you will you behave and not fight?" It was the same Gaidin who had spoken before, perhaps the one who had blindfolded him.
He nodded, there was no point in fighting he would not win against five Gaidin and he was not stupid enough to believe he could. His hands were and were directed to the reigns were they were tied in place once more, they set off, his horse was being led from in front he thought because he sure wasn't steering.
The Gaidin were silent as they rode, Nesir shivered it was cold as they left the tower. He wished he was wearing the cloak Latonia had bought him but he had not woken up expecting to be kidnapped by the Master of Training and a bunch of Gaidin. He took deap breaths trying to stay calm. If they knew that he was a darkfriend why were had they not just killed him? Or dragged him in front of the Amyrilin and M'Hael to be executed?
His thoughts swirled for an hour, he was cold and he hurt from the day before. Being deprived of sight was difficult but he relied on his ears, not that the Gaidin were speaking but there were other sounds, birds, the scratching of some animal. The clopping of horses hooves on grass turned to on rock and stone. Most importantly other people, they skirted round Harma Valon but you could hear the noise of the city, smell the city the smell that comes when many people live together. After an hour though he could hear no people and the air was clean. It was getting colder.
They were going further into the mountains. Was he to be killed secretly? Jip's stutter broke the silence, telling them to stop. Nesir felt himself being pulled off the horse, his legs were a little shakey but he forced himself to stand. If he was to be killed here, surrounded, tied and blindfolded he was at least going to die on his feet.
Hands grasped him and to Nesir's surprise span him round, and round again until Nesir felt dizzy. He was directed to sit down and something was brought to his lips, "Drink," was the command and Nesir obeyed too confused and thirsty to do anything else. Maybe they were poisoning him, but why? There were five of them and each one of them could kill him with their bare hands if they wished. Why poison? It didn't taste like poison anyways it tasted like water, but some poisons were tasteless.
He was moved back to the horses and lifted back on and the reigns were placed in his tied hands. It was getting colder, they were going higher and Nesir shivered more. He hated the cold, he did not want to die cold. Then again, did it matter once you were dead?
More silence and more cold as they travelled further, they stopped again and this time after being spun around until he was dizzy he was given food, bread and cheese, things he could eat without seeing as long as it was placed in his hands.
They stopped a couple more times for water, and spinning and Nesir was getting more and more confused. Finally, as the cold was getting almost unbearable they stopped again and after being spun around he was directed to sit down. He heard the warders moving around and then felt the warmth of a fire, he rubbed his left hand subconsciously. He was brought closer to the flames, surely they did not want to kill him by burning? Nesir felt a cold dread grip him, he could almost feel the tendrils of heat and pain rising up his body, down his arms. He started to tremble and told himself that the master of training would not burn him, surely not, from all the rumours he had heard the man didn't even like killing! Then again it was more common knowledge that the Master of Training had lost his bondmate to the shadow and was not sane, so who knew what he was capable of.
However nothing happened, until someone approached and he felt someone beside him. "I ha...have st...stew he...here Nesir," Jip did not sound angry, and would they really feed him if they were planning on burning him? It was awkward and embarrassing to be fed, but he could not do anything else tied and blindfolded so he let the master of training spoon the stew into his mouth. The food was good and warming. He was given tea as well which made him warmer.
He was led over from the fire to a bedroll and deciding that at least if they killed him in his sleep he would not know about it he made himself as comfortable as he could and fell asleep.
He was awoken in the morning, at least Nesir assumed it was morning, he could hear birds and feel a heat that he assumed was the sun. But he could not see and did not know how many hours he had slept. He was given breakfast, porridge made with oats and water much like he got at the tower, and ate it hungrily. He drank the water he was given and was spun around until he was dizzy before he was lifted back onto the horse. They set off again.
Nesir was starting to doubt they were going to kill him, what they were going to do with him he had no idea and he had defiantly not heard of any other trainees being kidnapped by the master of training. He was confused and cold and resigned himself to another miserable horseback ride.
It was worse than the day before, it was raining and Nesir was soon soaked to the skin and miserable. He stopped trying to think of why he had been taken and what they were going to do with him. He was lifeless as a puppet as they dragged him off the horse and span him round. He ate and drank what and when they told him. Then they came to a stop again, Nesir was taken off the horse but unlike the other times he was left alone, no spinning. He stood there confused. So was this it? Were they going to kill him now?
"N...Nesir A...Aeser D...Drin'far'ji," Jip began formally. Nesir steeled himself for the judgement, for the sentence. "Ou...our jou...journey has co...come to a...an en...end, bu...but yo...yours ha...has j...ju...just beg...begun," Just begun? What did that mean, what journey? Were they kicking him out of the Tower?
"Y...you w...wi...will rem...remain blin...blindfold...blindfolded u...un...until y...you no lo...longer h...he...hear our hoo...hoof...hoofbe...hoofbeats. Onl...only th...then, o...once you ar...are ce...cerrtain yo...you n...no lo...longer he...hear us, wi...will you re...remo...remove the bl...blin...blind...blindfold an...and loo...look up...upon yo...your surr...surrou...surround...surroundings." Nesir nodded understanding, though he did not truly understand. Why were they leaving him? So he wouldn't follow them? Was he being left to die?
His hands were untied though Nesir did as he was told and didn't touch the blindfold. He looked towards were the sound of Jip's voice was coming, "Yo...you a...are in th...the mou...mountains of mi...mist," well Nesir had gathered that! "an...and th...this i...is the st...start of y...your s...survival t...test."
Oh. Behind the blindfold Nesir blinked. His test, the test to become Ji'alantin? Relief filled him followed by more confusion. Surely he was not ready! They obviously thought he was! He almost laughed in disbelief but kept his face carefully blank.
"Y...you will re...rem...remain in th...this a...ar...are...area for se...seven da...days. A...all yo..you h...ha...have fo...for sup...supplies are t...the clo...clothes o....on you...your ba...back, the blin...blind...blindfold, and th...the uti...utility kn...knif...knife in yo...your bel...belt." Nesir nodded again, a new type of fear gripping him. Did he know enough, could he survive? He had to really. He could hear water, that was a good thing at least.
"A...at the en...end of yo...your se...seve...seventh da...day, yo...you w...will be...begin yo...your jou...journ...journey bac...back to th...the Gr...Grey To...Tower. To pa...pass the tes..test, you wil...will arri...arrive at su...sunset on the te...tenth day. Arr...Arrive aft...after sun...sunset, and yo...you ww...wi...will fai,,,fail. Ge...get assi...assistan...assistance fro...from any...anyone on yo...you...your jou...journey, and yo...you wi...will fa...fai...fail. Yo...you mus...must be enti...entirely se...self reli...reliant, Dri...drin'far'ji."
A week then, a week in which to survive and return to the tower, or die, or fail. Either way it was a week that would decide his future.
"D...do yo...you ha...have an...any que...question...questions befo...before you ar...aree le...lef...left on yo...your ow...own?"
Nesir shook his head, he understood, he had no questions. He heard the Gaidin remounting he listened carefully to their fading footsteps turning to look in the direction he heard them. It would be one clue to get out of here when the time came.
Silence, no hooves no people. Nesir raised his freezing and numb hands to the blindfold and worked at the knots. The light hurt his eyes and he squeezed them shut in pain before gradually blinking them open. He sat down while his eyes got used to the sudden light, he looked around his new surroundings. A clearing but surrounded by forest, he could hear water, but not see it. He would have to be here for seven days.
He stood up, realising he was hungry but first things first, he gathered up some stones and walked to the edge of the clearing where he had heard the Gaidin leave, he piled the stones up, a marker while the memory was fresh. He continued around the perimeters of his new home, gathering up firewood, he didn't want to make a fire, he didn't want to be near fire but he would die without one. He could do this, he had been taught the theory of surviving in the wild from Kant Gaidin, and had practiced it while being in the tower. Preparation for this moment, and for the future when he would be expected to keep his bondmate and himself alive. However he had never lived in the wild for real, he was not stupid, he knew it would be a lot harder than expected.
He gathered an armful of firewood and returned to the centre of the clearing, kneeling down he started to clear a patch of ground, using the utility knife to help him dig out stubborn rocks. He put them aside, they would come in handy. When the small square was clear he started scooping dirt out, the ground was soft from the rainfall before. Piling the dirt up as well Nesir started to surround the shallow pit with rocks. Then he started with the driest sticks he could find and built them up. Taking the knife and a rock he started to try to make a spark.
It took about an hour of persistent striking and blowing to fan the tiny flames but finally he had a small blaze going and he added kindling, careful not to smoother his painfully earned flames. Once he was sure the fire was not going to go out suddenly he stood up and brushed off his uniform, he was all at once glad for the warmth it provided and wary of the flames. Now to find that water, he walked towards the noise and was soon rewarded by the site of water.
The sky was darkening, it would be dark soon so Nesir knelt down and drank long from the river. He returned to the fire, huddling near it to dry his still damp clothes and warm him up. There was much to do but today was only day one, and it was now dark. He would need to start making this clearing a camp in which he could survive in. Tomorrow, for now he lay down by the dying fire and closed his eyes.
Day Two
His sleep was broken, he was cold, it was raining and why in the Great Lord of the Darks name was he still in this clearing? He woke up wondering why he was bothering with it and why he did not just leave. Surely if he found a city, changed his name- would not be hard since the names he was known by were just labels he had been given. He did not have to stay here, he did not have to go back. The tower brought nothing but pain.
He got up and poked the fire into life. He was hungry and thirsty and they were his most immediate needs, he could think about leaving after he had eaten. The fire took ages to start, but finally it did, the wood was wet though and it would take a while before it gave heat. A woodshelter, that could be useful, Nesir nodded to himself before realising that was him planning to stay. He sighed and went to the river. Water was easy, he drank his fill again, but he could not live on water, he needed food. Fish!
Well fish was in the river but getting it out of the river to eat was a different matter. Fishing was another thing, like fire building, that Nesir only knew how to do in theory. He only had his clothes, a knife and the cloth that was his blindfold. Somehow he doubted he would be eating fish. He tried anyways, gathering some sturdy sticks and rocks. Removing his boots and socks and rolling up his trousers he waded upstream sticking to the shallows at the bank looking for a good place.
The water was freezing, so cold it hurt, muffling his curses as the sharp rocks cut his numbing feet. Soon though he found a part in the bank of the river where water was trapped for a moment because of the rocks. Rolling up his sleeves and using rocks and the sticks he had picked up he placed them in a line and tied the corners of the blindfold to them. Hopefully the fish would be trapped between here and the rocks.
He crouched on the bank for a long while, his feet hurting and shivered as he waited. An hour, maybe two past. It gave him time to think at least, why was he here. If he was going to escape, going to leave the clutches of this life he had not chosen for himself now was the best time to do it. He could fight, alright not amazingly well and life of a mercenary did not truthfully appeal to him. He figured it would be just like the tower, worse even, an unsecured lifestyle, never knowing where the next meal would come from or where the next fight would be.
Not to mention it would be a quick way to die, perhaps not a fighter then. He could kill, surely people needed hired killers. It would mean he would not be near Aes Sedai or Asha'men at least. Or in the tower.
The blindfold moved a fish! Trapped in the small cove Nesir had made. He plunged his hand in, once and again trying to catch the fish. It slipped out of his fingers back into the fast flowing river. Nesir cursed and set himself to waiting again.
Luckily this time it did not take as long for a fish to be caught and after a few goes he flipped the fish onto land. Quickly hitting it against a rock to kill it he stood up holding his prize. He decided to try and find a land route to his camp from the trap so he did not need to wade down the river each time.
His feet were cut and bruised by the time get cut through the trees to get back to where he left his boots. He put them on gratefully, to think he had spent his whole childhood running round barefoot and now his feet were hurt after a few moments.
He trudged back to camp, the fire was dying down so Nesir fed it more building it up so it would be hot enough to cook his fish on. Then went about making a spit, haphazardly balancing sticks and sharpening another, the blood from the fist sizzled as it hit the fire and he sat warming up his frozen legs. The fish was small but smelled delicious.
He had things to do but was too hungry to do anything until he had eaten. Taking the fish from the fire, wishing he did not have to put his hands close to the fire to do so. Having his hand this close to fire made it hurt and made him feel almost sick with fear. He was not meant to fear anything!
He cut the fish open with the knife, taking out the bones and eating it hungrily. The sun, or what there was of the sun between the clouds, was high in the sky by this point and he realised he still had some work to do. Finding some bigger logs, most rotten and not good to burn he made a small woodshelter to put his firewood in to keep dry. It took a long time with no tools and even fewer skills but he managed to make one and pile the wood inside. Just in time for it to start raining, hard.
Cursing for about the thousandth time Nesir headed towards the trees. At least he would not get soaked there, he spent most the time digging a deeper fire pit in the canopy of trees. Last thing he wanted was the set the whole wood on fire. He gathered some of his dry wood and managed to get a small fire going, it was still hard because of the rain but the leaves kept most of that off them. The weather got worse and Nesir cursed his luck, he hated rain, he hated cold and he hated the tower!
But could he leave it?
Latonia was there, and Ral; people just people, there were people everywhere he did not need them. He curled up in a ball by the fire wishing he was back in Illian with his brother, that he had never heard of the Tower at all.
Day Three
He must have slept and for a long time because when he woke up it was morning and he was stiff and cold. It was still raining though. He stood up and cleared out the now sodden wood from the fire pit. Running out into the pouring rain he collected some more wood, he would need to find some more soon and try to dry it. He built a fire and lit it, it took over an hour again because everything was damp and water was coming through the trees. Nesir shivered miserably. He wandered through the part of the wood he was in, collecting dry logs and sticks. He came across a bramble bush that was still bearing fruit. He grinned and after taking his sticks back to put in his wood hut he went back to collect black berries.
He collected as many as he could carry in his hands and returned to his fire. Groaning slightly he then went out into the rain to his fishing area. Battling through nettles and mud. There was no fish in his trap! Of course there wasn't! His trap was stupid! He did not want to sit out in the rain and wait for a fish to come and be caught.
In a fit of rage he kicked the trap and regretted it instantly as the sticks and blindfold fell over and swirled into the river and downstream. Cursing Nesir went in after the blindfold. It was the only thing that could catch him food. The current took him unprepared and he lost his footing.
Slipping he got dragged down into the water, something hit his head and he struggled against the water that was pushing him along. He went under again and he started thrashing, why had Kant never taught him to swim? Surely it was an important life skill! He waved his arms and legs around, it couldn't be that hard. Apparently it was, he thought as he breathed in water, he struggled more fighting against the darkness that came upon him.
He woke up and somehow he was on the riverbank, or more specifically in a small pool that had been made by a fallen tree. He coughed, feeling weak and opened his eyes. He was still sat in the water but his head had been caught in the branches, probably saving his life.
He untangled himself from the branches coughing more, water coming out his mouth. He was still alive, but he hurt a lot. He raised his hand tentatively to his head, it came away with blood. He groaned and stood up, his ankle promptly giving way underneath him, he fell into the water. He wasn't wearing boots, and only one sock. He looked around but could not see his boots anywhere, they must have come off with his kicking and been swept downstream.
He wanted to cry, he splashed his way to the bank and pulled himself up into the mud. His ankle was hurting too much to put weight on so after looking round and deciding his best bet was to follow the river upstream again he started crawling. He felt dizzy and sick his hands and knees were soon bloody and torn and he wanted to curl up and sleep. He had to get the camp though.
He did not know how long he had been unconscious but the sky was darkening and by the time he had found the camp, going the most direct route which involved many brambles it was dark. He found his fire and the blackberries which he ate hungrily, ignoring the fact they were covered in mud. Too dizzy to light a fire he curled up by the tree and slept.
His dreams were dark, memories mixed with imaginings. He wept as his dagger plunged into his brothers heart, Elina's face cruel and laughing, candles, candles and burning flesh, candles being swept down rivers. Daggers and blood.
Day Four
He slept until the sun was high the next day and woke up shivering. His head felt like it was full, he hurt all over and when he managed to raise his arm he saw it was a mass of bruises and blood. He wanted to curl back up but he needed heat, and water; not that he wanted to go near the river again, but he had no choice, he needed water and to wash his cuts lest they get infected.
He was not doing well on this survival test, he was hungry, cold and injured and he still had three days left to survive. It was three wasn't it. He counted the days in his head, the first had been when he had been left in the clearing, the second day he had managed to eat and the third he had almost drowned. Unless he had missed a day when unconscious, which he severely hoped not because then he would be late back and would be thrown out, this was the fourth day.
He picked a stick up off the ground and using the knife put four notches in it. He stuck in upright near his fire, which was not lit yet. Four days, three to go before he had to start his journey. He winced as he tried to stand, at least his ankle would be hopefully better in three days. He half crawled to the wood shelter that he had made and grabbed a few logs. It wasn't raining today but the sky was dark and threatening a storm.
The fire took ages to light again and Nesir fumbled with the knife and rock trying to get a spark, everything was damp and it took almost two hours to get the fire lit so that it could be left while he went to the river. Not that he wanted to but he did, he half walked half crawled to the shallow area that he knew was nearby, he filled his stomach with water again, he could go find some more berries. He was hungry, very hungry but he should deal with his injuries first. Shivering at the cold he washed his arms and legs and face rolling his sleeves and trousers up as he did it. He had many gashes and some more serious cuts that would need bound as they were still bleeding. Others bled again as he washed away the dried blood. At least binding cuts was something he could do something he had been taught and practiced.
Using the utility knife he cut strips off his uniform, from the legs and sleeves. He washed the strips river, shivering and trying to stop himself from falling asleep; that would be dangerous. When the cloth was as clean as he could make it he started to bind the more serious cuts on his arms and legs. His head was cut as well but in an awkward place that he did not have enough material to bandage, he washed the cut, it was only small but head cuts bled a lot.
When he had finished he took off the one sock that he had on, his foot was swollen and bruised but after washing it and feeling his ankle he decided it was twisted not broken. He washed the sock as well in the river before using the knife to cut where the toes were. Folded in half it made a half decent support bandage for his ankle and he felt he could support a little bit more weight on it. He hobbled back to the fire and huddled against it in an attempt to stay warm. He needed food and more firewood, it had started to drizzle rain again, stupid rain. At least he was a little warmer, standing up carefully he moved slowly to where the berries were, collecting a handful again, they were food even if not that filling. He ate them hungrily as he walked back to the fire.
There! By the fire, mushrooms, just a couple, poking up from the ground. Nesir moved over to them, he knew some mushrooms were poisons some even deadly to eat and that was something he had been taught. Because he had been taught how to make basic poisons by the innkeepers he had lived with. Closing his eyes he remembered the shape and colour of the ones that were perfectly safe, these were them! Not quite believing his luck Nesir pulled at a few and returning to the fire feasted on berries and mushrooms.
The food gave him energy and he started to gather firewood to put in the wood hut, however after only a little time of doing that he started to feel exhausted, his legs weak and so he returned to the fire and slumped to the ground, at least he had enough wood to keep the fire going throughout the day. He was happy, very happy actually and he sat warming himself by the fire buzzing with a rising happiness that seemed to overcome everything. He loved it here, in the wilderness with the pretty trees. He giggled to himself and wondered why he felt so nauseous.
Nausea quickly turned into trembling and shaking. Nesir wrapped his arms around him to control the trembling. His eyes were blury and he felt like he was drunk. Except he had not drank any alcohol, he tried to stand up, wondering if he had managed to get dehydrated- though how he managed that after nearly drowning the day before he would not know, and fell over, throwing up.
Groaning miserably he crawled a few paces away, shivering almost uncontrollably. His eyes grew wide as the trees started to move, not with the wind like they were meant to but closer, shuffling towards him. He started to crawl backwards into the clearing, rubbing at his eyes. But the trees were everywhere and they were coming closer, closer, wanting to crush him.
Fire, the fire was coming closer too, snaking across the ground it wanted to hurt him, it rose to engulf him and Nesir screamed until his throat was raw. The fire rose, turning into the face of the psycho and swooping down on him again. Nesir writhed on the floor screaming. Fire and water, blood, daggers flashing. Nesir's ears went funny he could hear nothing but his own screaming, he thought he was perhaps sick again.
He could fight the trees! He could fight them all! He grabbed something, a stick he thought, no it was a sword! He had a sword! He had never used a sword, ah well he would be able to! He would defeat his enemies he stood up and lost all ability to move. His arms and legs felt like someone had removed the bones and he collapsed into a ball. He was helpless and all he could do was scream as the trees moved closer.
Swirling darkness, rising flames roaring water Nesir screamed and laughed and howled in pain as the world went mad around him. Writhing in pain that wracked his body.
Day Five
He hadn't slept but he came to himself as the sun was rising. Shaken and terrified and slowly realising that the night and day before had been nothing but some kind of dream, a real dream, he had been awake. It had started raining again and he was soaked through, lying in the middle of the clearing. He sat up slowly, his head was pounding and his mouth was dry, every muscle was weak and he was still shivering uncontrollably.
Crawling, he did not have the strength to walk, he reached the river, he drank water until he felt like his stomach would explode and then collapsed on the bank. He should try and crawl back to the clearing but he did not have the strength to move, his shivered more. Coughing weakly he crawled a little further away from the river, he had no intention of falling in again. His head was pounding and he did not think he was breathing right.
He was sat in the sun, his legs dangling off the roof eating fresh soft bread that he had swiped from a baker, they had been chased but quickly escaped up on to the rooftops. The food was better than any they could take from the inn and they were encouraged to steal by the innkeepers. The sky was a beautiful blue the sun beating down on them, the boy grinned lopsidedly watching those on the street from his vantage point. A thousand noises, shouts from the sellers, squabbles between neighbours, parents shouting at children. A thousand smells, good and bad, sewage if you were turned one way, freshly baked break if you turned another. The boys shared their bread watching the city but not part of it but happy and enjoying their freedom.
On the floor of the clearing Nesir was calm, pale and still. His breathing was shallow and then deepened, as if he was falling into deeper sleep. Then it quickened and he began to move and murmur, mumbling to himself.
Darkness, crying in the darkness, his brother's cries. He was hurting and the boy crawled closer to him. In the darkness there was silence broken only by the sobs of his brother. The boy did not know what had happened to make his brother cry, the boy had never cried and he did not think his brother had either, but he knew he was in trouble. Something had gone wrong, his brother had been sent on a task. Had he failed? Had Elina Sedai hurt him. The boy reached out to touch his brothers shoulder, his brother flinched.
"What do be wrong," he whispered, he got no answer. He tried again, trying to turn his brother round to face him, his brother snarled at him.
"Nothing do be wrong, you do be leaving me alone!" the boy scooted back a little, hurt that his brother had snapped at him. He watched warily and watched the tears almost fascinated. He drew closer, lying down near his brother. His brother drew closer still and cried harder until he slept.
The rain fell steadily on the clearing and Nesir slept on, twitching and turning from the memories and fever dreams that were attacking him. Hours were passing and the sky was darkening and Nesir seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into the fever.
The inn was shut for the night and the boys had been in bed a good few hours when they came for them. The boys woke sleepily as the fat innkeeper shook them. They exchanged glances but silently padded after their guardian. They were tiny, six or seven years old at most, and yet they had been prepared. They knew this night was important, though they had never been told when it would happen. The shadow would be triumphant over the light blinded and the boys would be on the side of the dark. They would make that promise tonight for the first time, it must be that, for it was the middle of the night.
They entered the main room of the inn; it was dark apart from the fire burning in the grate. Their guardians were there, the fat innkeeper, the beaked nosed man who worked in the kitchens and the fat innkeeper's wife with her long nails. A lady dressed in a black dress, black with purple slashes was stood by the wall, a beautiful, terrifying woman, she had arrived a few days ago and yet the boys had not seen much of her. A man, silent and shadowlike stood behind her, seeming to be one with the room. The boys looked around silently, filled with awe as they stepped forward, surrounded by the adults.
The beaked nose man came forward with a dagger, silver, reflecting the fire light with a red pommel stone, ornate and ceremonial, it was the boy that he handed it to and he stepped forward his brother's eyes on him. The long nailed lady had talked through what to do and what this oath meant, why it had to be secret and why they could not speak of it to anyone. The boy knelt down on the hearth stones.
"I do be saying it now?" He asked, not wanting to do the wrong thing, and his guardians nodded. The boy took a deep breath. "The Great Lord of the Dark is my Master, and most heartily do I serve him to the last shred of my very soul." The words sounded strange to his Illian tongue but he continued. "Lo! My Master is Death's Master; Asking nothing do I serve against the Day of His coming, yet do I serve in sure and certain hope of life everlasting. Surely the faithful shall be exalted in the land, exalted above the unbelievers, exalted above thrones, yet do I serve humbly against the Day of His Return.
Swift come the Day of Return, swift come the Great Lord of the Dark to guide us and rule the world forever and ever."
Raising the dagger to his hand he tried not to be frightened. He cut the palm of his hand quickly wincing and watching the blood drip into the fire for a moment the world went cold. Freezing cold, even the fire lost its heat, all colour drained from the world, for a moment only. A moment and then it was back to normal but the boy was trembling in fear, he had been here, the Great Lord of the Dark had been here, he had heard.
Day turned into night and the sky got darker and yet Nesir dreamed on, twitching and turning, mumbling and crying out. His face screwed in almost pain the rain falling steadily upon him.
Nesir filled with anger, he turned to the crowd of novices who were laughing at him. They had nothing better to do then ogle at trainees and laugh at their mistakes. Like novices never made mistakes! Nesir started shouting ""What do be so funny! You think it do be so funny come and be trying it yourselves instead of be standing there staring!" A figure came out the crowd; a beautiful novice, her golden hair flowing down her back as she gave him a cold look.
Nesir was sat in the gardens, the novice Latonia was next to him trying to fuss over a cut on his arm. Nesir crawling into a bush, to find the parcel they had to deliver to the infirmary. Laughter as they succeeded in their task. Tears as she told him of her life before.
Her head on his shoulder as they sat together in Wintersnight, his arms on hers as they danced to the song in the Band of Brothers, the gleeman, the psycho, in the background. The cold eyes of the psycho as fire laced up Nesir's arms, his screams ignored. Latonia embracing the psycho who was her brother. Cold eyes, heart breaking joy, lonliness. Nesir's brother, his eyes filled with silent acceptance of his fate, Latonia and her brother reunited. Floating masks, peals of laughter, dancing and cold hatred.
Tears and shivering, Nesir writhed on the floor as if in pain. Darkness and then light as the sun began to rise in the sky once more.
Day Six
"Do be sitting still," the boy told his brother as he held a cloth to his head trying to stop the bleeding. His brother was still instantly, he had not complained once, nor cried out. His face was a mass of bruises and his lip was burst but the cut on his head was the worst. The stone man had knocked him into the fireplace when he had been hitting him. His brother had not been able to answer the cruel woman's questions, the cruel woman told the stone man what to do and she had told him to hurt his brother.
His brothers head was still bleeding and the boy pressed harder, both he and his brother looked around warily. They scuffled backwards as the stone man entered but he did not come close. Instead he crouched down at a safe distance; the boys trembled in the corner.
"I won't hurt you," he said quietly the boys looked at him in disbelief, of course the stone man would hurt them, he had hurt the brother before. The stone man came closer, the stone features softening almost. "Here." He held something in his hands, it was a bowl, he came closer and took the cloth from the boys hands, dipping it in the water.
"It's a shallow cut, not dangerous but it bleeds a lot when the head is cut." The stone man used the water to bathe the cut on his brothers head. The boy sat close, ready to try and stop the stone man hurting his brother again. "It stings because there is salt in the water, it hurts but it cleans the wound and helps it heal." The stone man seemed unsure if the boy and his brother could understand him. The boy nodded and watched as the stone man gently bandaged his brothers head; the two watching like hunted animals in the presence of the hunter. The stone man finished the bandaging and then stood up and left as silently as he had come.
The body in the clearing seemed calmer, as if the early sun was giving him comfort, but still he did not wake, not yet.
Nesir watched the gleeman cautiously, the man was a spy and Tearian at that, insulting Nesir for no other reason than for the fact he was from Illian. Calling him filth, because he thought himself better than Nesir. Cruel words, harsh and uncaring; making Nesir angry. Nesir heard his hateful words and was filled with an anger greater than that he could cope with his fist pulled back and aimed at the gleemans face. He did not know if he had hit or not, it was the last thing on his mind as pain crept up his arms and legs. Pain and heat, Nesir screamed in pain, unable to keep himself from crying out. He was going to die, his screams got louder, deafening himself to everything else around him. The same gleeman, soldier, falling into Latonia's arms, her delight at finding her brother alive. Latonia's lips on Nesir's calmness, happiness.
The body had gone into violent spasms but now it was calm again, perfectly calm and content. The morning turned to afternoon and it began to rain once more, the rain did not wake the boy though as he started to twitch and turn once more.
The boy had just finished scrubbing dishes, he wanted to find his brother he had been so upset the night before, but he had not told the boy what had happened, the boy only knew that it had been bad. He dodged out the kitchen before Junie could catch him and set him to another errand. Though he would not mind going out on one, it was a windy chilly day but the boy would like to get out of the inn for once. In the last months the only time he had been allowed out was at night, to go on tasks. He had gotten too old to go and run with the street children, all the ones of his age had either been forced into work, if they had guardians, or joined groups of thieves if they did not.
He was almost at the room in the basement which he and his brother slept in when he heard footsteps behind him. He spun round, not wanting to get caught not paying attention and saw that it was Tawin. "You do be coming with me boy," he growled beckoning sharply. The boy saw that the man was not happy, he was angry. He followed the man to another room off from the main basement.
His brother was there, he had been crying again. He should not cry in front of their guardians, that showed weakness. The boy ignored his brother, it was a pact they had made. If their guardians did not know they were friends they could not use them against each other. His brother ignored him also. Tawin came forward towards the boy and he flinched slightly, but all he did was reach into the boys sleeve and pluck out the knife that Kant had given him.
"You do be knowing what this do be used for boy, yes?" The boy nodded, sensing his guardian's anger. Of course he knew, it was what he was taught every day and what he practiced most nights."This one do no be knowing," the boys brother shuffled uncomfortably. "He do no be knowing how to kill a man, boy, or if he do be knowing then he do be craven," the voice was icy calm.
On the floor tears were falling from the boys eyes, tears mingled with rain, as his body wracked in sobs, the rain fell harder.
"I do be thinking, you do know how to kill a man, you should be showing him," the boy was shoved towards his brother. His brother looked at him, a look that would never be forgotten. A look that made clear their friendship, an accepting look, a surrendering look, the boy met his brother's eyes, he had no idea what was in his own eyes but the eyes of his brother as he pushed the knife into his heart would be burned into his memory forever.
Tawin had left as his brother had died, the boy stared at what he had done. Stared at the empty shell that used to be his brother, his brother, his best friend, the boy didn't cry, he didn't know how to. He fled the room, back to the room where he and his brother had slept, had spent so much time since they were very small. He curled up on their blankets, trembling as memories assailed him. No one came for him, he was not summoned for any tasks or chores, he felt like he was going to burst with sorrow. He wanted to howl and scream, he wanted to hurt the whole world. Yet no tear fell, he did not know how to cry, he was not allowed to cry.
The day turned into night and the body in the clearing was still, having dropped into a deeper sleep, a dreamless sleep away from the memories that had attacked him.
Day Seven
Nesir opened his eyes, the light hurt and he groaned before curling up into a ball. His head felt heavy and he was soaked to the skin, the sun was high in the sky and when Nesir's eyes had gotten used to the daylight he saw where he was, by the river. Crawling over to it he drank his fill, fighting nausea as the cold water hit his empty stomach. He lost the battle but his head felt less muggy when he had thrown up. He shivered and wanted to curl up in a ball again. He couldn't though, he needed heat, he did not attempt to drink any more but he made his way to the fire wood shelter he had made. His ankle was no longer hurting and Nesir wondered how long he had been sleeping. A day at least, perhaps two. He frowned as he took an armful of wood and carried it to his fire pit.
He took out the damp ashes and put the dry wood down, lighting it took hours again but at least when he was concentrating on lighting the fire he was not concentrating on the fact he felt so weak, or the fact that he hurt everywhere. He felt a burst of triumph when he finally got the wood to catch and he soon had a small fire going. He huddled by it letting the warmth dry his damp clothes. It would have been better to go nearer to it, but Nesir did not wish to be too close to the flames. He shuddered at his memories of the night, or the night before.
He picked up the stick that he had marked, four marks and that forth one had been just before the world had gone mad on him. How had that happened? The berries or the mushrooms? Nesir frowned, he would just not eat either of them. Now what day was it. He vaguely remembered the sky darkening on the forth day, he knew he had woken the next morning and moved to the river, but then he had dreamed. So it was the sixth day, or the seventh. Nesir frowned, it could even be the eighth but he was going to hope it was not.
He was meant to leave the clearing on the evening of the seventh day, which was potentially today, or tomorrow or yesterday. He would leave this evening, and hope he had guessed correctly. If he was a day early that would not matter, if he was a day late, well he did not even know if he wished to continue in the tower. Apart from the fact Latonia was there, her and Ral though Ral was just a lightblinded fool he reminded him of his brother sometimes.
Once Nesir was warm and dry he made his way over to the river, he felt ridiculously weak he did not remember the last time he had eaten, and he had thrown up quite a few times in the last few days. He walked silently into the clearing and paused, there, a rabbit!
The first animal Nesir had seen while he had been here actually. He creapt forwards, quietly as he had been taught. Barely even breathing, making himself small. The utility knife, it would probably be useless but it was worth a shot. Hunger took over and Nesir leapt forwards. It shouldn't have worked, he had no traps, he was not trained really in catching animals but he was just lucky, the way he landed meant that the rabbit could not escape.
What ensued next was a scuffle, the rabbit fought hard and Nesir's arms were scratched quite thoroughly. But Nesir won and soon the rabbit was still in his hands. He grinned, looking quite ferel with his torn clothes and mud stained limbs. Instead of going to the stream he returned to the fire, taking the utility knife he skinned and gutted the rabbit, it was hard to do for the knife was not that sharp but he managed and it was soon cooking over the fire.
He sat watching it, almost obsessed with the way the blood dripped from the animal to the fire, and sizzled. The smell coming from it was almost enough to make Nesir pass out from hunger and the moment he decided it was cooked he took it from the fire. It burnt his mouth but he did not care, the flavour of meat was almost dream like. He stuffed it into his mouth, not able to go slowly. His trembling stopped and he began to slow down, savouring the last pieces as he stripped the animal to bare bones. He did not know when his next meal would be, he remembered every bite.
Feeling much stronger he went to drink from the river, drinking his fill and more besides, for he would be leaving the clearing now. After he checked, washed and rebandaged his various cuts and injuries he began to walk round until he found the pile of stones he had marked when he had been left here, so long ago.
He would follow the stream, for the Tower was near the bottom of the mountains and streams ran downwards. It was a start and so after putting out his fire he left. Time to find his way back!
The going was tough, for he had no shoes and his ankle was still a little sore for walking. It was all forest still and he followed the stream, scrambling over fallen trees and debris. This was not the way they had come in, but it was better than nothing.
When the light started to fade Nesir stopped, and began to look for a place to camp the night. He was now on the border of forest and bare rock mountains, he would remain in the forest that day. He found a place that was sheltered but where he would be able to see if anyone tried to come up to him. Gathering some wood he once again went through the task of building a fire. It provided warmth though Nesir was too tired to attempt to catch any food, the light was completely faded anyways. But it did not matter he had had food today, which was better than he could say for the other days. Warm and content, hoping he was on the right path he fell asleep, into a deep dreamless sleep.
Day Eight
He woke with the sun, stretching out waking pains and bruises. He moved to the stream and drank his fill, he could see that once he moved out into the rockyness of the mountains of mist the stream would be impossible to follow but he thought that the tower was in the west of the mountains of mist and that was the direction the sun had fallen the night before. Opposite from where the light had come from this morning.
Scattering the remains of his fire Nesir set off again, away from the forest and into the mountains. The going was tougher than the day before and he had to stop many times to rest his ankle. But he would keep going. It gave him time to think though, the long clambering over the rocks of the mountains. He was heading to the tower and yet he had not even decided if he wished to go there.
It was his choice though he had a feeling Elina Sedai would be able to find him if he left. Still it was more of a choice than he had had before, and Nesir could still not decide. He had been sent to the tower, no choice no one had asked him if he wished to go and he had hated most of his time there. But his life before had not been much better, apart from he had had his brother. In the tower or not nothing was going to bring his brother back.
He had sworn allegiance to the dark one and he would have to keep that vow no matter where he was. The tower allowed him to improve his skills, allowed him to have a chance against his enemy, the lightblinded world. But did he want to be a warder?
He wanted to be that strong, be able to fight. But did he wish to give his life as a warder, to be chained to some power crazed man or woman. The yards told him he could chose who he served, but words meant nothing when he looked at Jip Gaidin and Sarkaska Gaidin, neither had chosen, they had been taken. Yet both had accepted it, neither fought against it, Ral told him that it was because when you became a Gaidin you promised to protect all channelers, choice was only an illusion.
Choice was only an illusion, so why was he having this debate with himself. He would go back to the tower because if he did not Elina Sedai would find him and he would rue the day he was born. He would become a warder and his life would not be his own anymore, if it ever had been. It probably hadn't, he had not had choice since the day he had been born. He would chose who he served though, Latonia, he would be happy to be Latonia's warder. But he could think of no other person. If he was taken then he would run and damn the consequences. By that time he would be stronger, able to fight back, he hoped.
Would he ever be able to fight against fire?
He slipped and scrambled and continued onward, he was hungry but he could not see any animals. He was cold, mist had set in and he was damp and cold and the sky was darkening. He began to look around for somewhere to stay the night. There were some caves, Nesir knew he had to be careful he did not disturb any bears, he had heard about some trainees who had been attacked by a bear when they had all gone hunting. They had only survived because there had been people to heal them. Here alone in the mountains no one would ever know if Nesir was attacked. He would be marked as failed and most would assume he had ran away, no one would ever know that he had tried to return, and been eaten by a bear.
Stearing his mind away from such unpleasant thoughts Nesir spent some time trying to set a stick on fire to use as a torch. He did not like holding fire that close to him and he hoped that this first cave was empty, he creapt in quietly, waving the torch around, making sure nothing was lurking in dark corners. It was empty; Nesir sighed in relief and put out the torch. He did not need a fire, he had no food and the cave was warm anyways. He was so tired he merely curled up and slept another dreamless night.
Day Nine
He woke, ravenous with hunger his mouth dry and his head hurting. He was a little confused to where he was before he remembered finding the cave. Crawling to the entrance he saw that it was dark and stormy outside. He groaned and wished he could stay in the warmth of the cave. But he had decided the day before that he was returning to the tower and so he would. Sighing he stepped out of the cave, his bruised and cut feet protesting and he wished he had something to huddle around him apart from the tatters of his drin'far'ji uniform.
The wind blew at him from seemingly all directions and the rain poured down. Nesir could barely see in front of him and he could only hope he was still going west. He slipped and slid down paths that were now rivers of mud, the weather was getting worse. He cursed as he tumbled down a rocky pass. He was going to be a mass of bruises and cuts. He was lost, and hungry even hungrier than he had been in the clearing.
He was thirsty also though he should not be with the amount of rain falling onto him. All the water sauces he could see were just mud, and he did not want to fall ill again. He winced as his ankle twisted and he had to sit down for a moment, shivering almost uncontrollably. Was he even going the right way? He stood again testing out his weight on his ankle before moving onwards, he could not see more than an arm stretch away.
The day went on, time tumbling around him like falling rain, it was so dark Nesir had only his vague sense of what time it was, and only realised how late it was getting when the sky began to darken even more, the little light there was fading away quickly. He was on a ledge, it was protected from the wind from three sides and so was not quite as miserable. He was so hungry, his stomach growled and he curled up in pain wishing for any food. He was never going to get back in time, he had no idea where he was, or where he was going. He was going to die out here in the wilderness, of starvation or of falling off a rock face.
At least no one could hurt him out here, only the elements, which seemed determined to wipe him off the face of the world, perhaps it was the pattern, though Elina Sedai had said the pattern played no part in the war of the creator and the Great Lord of the Dark. So perhaps it was the creator, though why such a powerful being would care about one little Friend of the Dark lost in the mountains of mist.
His hand knocked over a rock and he frowned at what he saw there. His teacher, a Gaidin whose name Nesir had never bothered to learn, had taught him that in desperate times bugs were perfectly edible. Most of the trainees had squirmed at that but Nesir had not seen the problem. Of course now faced with the prospect he was not so keen, but it was foolish to believe such things would never happen to you.
He sat up, bringing his knees to his chest as he reached down and picked up a bug. Surely if he just closed his eyes it would be easy to forget what he was eating. He put it into his mouth quickly, screwing up his face as he quickly chewed the crunchy bug. It was not too bad, Nesir told himself, and surely eating bugs was better than the gnawing hunger that had come upon him. He brought another to his mouth and another eating until he no longer felt as hungry. Huddling further into the rock he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, telling himself that the bugs were dead and that he was just imagining them wriggling round inside him.
Day Ten - Homecoming
It was the warmth of the sun that woke him, such a strange feeling after being freezing all night, he had not slept well, falling in and out of a half frozen rest. Nesir moved slightly, his frozen and damp body twitching towards the heat coming from the sun. There was a breeze but it was nothing compared to the day before. He opened his eyes, squinting as he got used to the shimmering light.
The light really was shimmering more than it should be. Nesir clambered to his feet, looking to where the light was coming from. He knew that sight, that was what light looked like when reflected from glass. There was only one thing made of glass that was big enough to be seen from a long distance around here, only one place anywhere as far as Nesir had ever seen, and that was the Tower!
Elated Nesir took a leap forward towards the shimmering light, his elation was destroyed moments afterwards when he caught his foot on a root and fell downwards, tumbling down through rocks. He sat for a while dazed at the bottom, rubbing his head tentatively. He could not fail now, he was so close to the tower and it was the last day. Cursing himself, the test, the weather and the entire world he began to slowly climb back up to higher ground. He had until sunset, or he would fail.
The climb took ages, the rocks that had taken moments to fall down took hours to painfully climb back up, when he got to the top the sun had gone behind a cloud but he walked in the direction that he had seen the shimmering coming from. He was nearly there, he hoped.
Onward, getting closer and rounding a corner it was there! In all its splendour the Grey Tower, place of nightmares, giver of pain. Yet that was where Nesir was safe, that was where he could learn to fight and he could deal with the problems of been forced to be a warder later. It had been proven to him, quite dramatically over the last nine days that he was not capable of living alone, he was not strong enough to survive; he still had much training to go.
Soon enough he could see Harma Valon spreading out to the west of him and there was the Tower. He avoided the town, lest anyone tried to interfere and help him, because then he would fail, and he had not come all this way to fail now. He sat down on the hill, he could see the Tower gates from here but he had an hour, he would guess by the position of the sun, to spare. He was near a stream and he half crawled over to it washing himself as best he could, cleaning all the fresh cuts he had gotten on his journey. He bound the worst ones up, after washing the scraps he had been using for bandages before. By the time he had done this and drank his fill of water he walked the rest of the way to the tower, the sun was setting, it was time.
Nesir entered the hall, aware of the eyes watching him, he stood as straight as he could, blanking his face against the pain in his ankle, focussing on the front of the hall where the Master of Training was stood. He looked relieved, had he truly thought that Nesir would not return when he left him in the clearing? Well Nesir had showed him. Nesir had watched enough raising ceremonies to understand what to do, he reached the dais and did not wince even as his ankle protested climbing upon in, and knelt.
"W...we ar...are gath...gathered he...here to...tod...today be...becau...because of Ne...Nesir Ae...Aeser D...Dr...Drin...drin'far'ji," The Master of Training began in a small voice smiling at Nesir in what Nesir assumed was reassurance. "wh...who ha...has pr...prov...prooved him...himself wor..worthy t..to we...wear a d...dar...darker sh..sh...shade of gr...grey."
So he had done it, Nesir's was glad, they had found nothing to fault, for there had been nothing. He had done everything he had been asked to do. "N...Nesir A...Aeser," Nesir met the Gaidin's sad blue eyes with his own clear green ones. Hard as flint, unflinching he focussed his attention on the man who, a week ago, he had believed to be the one who would execute him.
"Yo...you ha...have pa...passed th...the tri...trials s...set up...upon y...you b...by y...your sup...su...super...superiors an..and ha...have pa...passed th...them ad...admi...admir...admirably an...and with...witho...without dis...dihon..dishonesty o...or fai...failu...failure." He had not failed, despite the hardships, hardships no one would ever have to know about. He had taken no help and he had returned in time and above all he was alive.
He took a breath as the sword was raised, it was still unnerving that a light blinded held a sword so close to his neck and yet as it fell on one shoulder and then another he knew it for acceptance. "I...It is th...the du...duty o...of ev...every indi... indi...individual t...to dedi...dedicate the...them...themselv...themselves fo...for th...the bet....bettermen...betterment a...and adva...adva...ad...advancement o...of the...their ho...home an...and cal...calling."
"Ye...Yet i...it i...is m...my dis...distin...distinct ple...pleas...pleasure, hon...honou...honour a...as we...wel...well a...as du...duty t...to co...conf...confer up...upon y...you th...the ra....rank o...of Ji...Ji'al...Ji'alan...Ji'alantin o...of t...the G...Gre...Grey Tow...Tower." It was done, the sword was sheathed once more, Nesir allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.
"R...Rise N...Nesir A...Aeser Ji...Ji'alantin," Nesir stood as he had seen countless others do before him, and turn to where the ranks of trainees stood apploading him. He allowed himself a small smile, he had passed their light blinded test, they had accepted him and one day, one day he would destroy them all.
