Fanfic:Janis' Survival Test

Janis' Survival Test

Author(s)	Janis Tearsin (player)
Character(s)	Janis Tearsin

This is a piece of fanfiction. Only the original author(s) or Librarian(s) should make content changes to this page.

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[Night; The Grey Tower.]

It was two hours before dawn, but Janis Tearsin was wide-awake and staring at the ceiling of his small room. A thousand different thoughts and emotions flew through his mind, some of them absurd, a few of them poignant, but all of them related by a common thread. He was to be tested today, a test that would mark a very crucial point in his life. It was his Raising test; a test to discern whether or not he was capable, if he was worthy, of shedding his Drin uniform and taking up that of a Ji'alantin.

worthy... Jan smiled softly at that word. He had been through more battles than he could remember, had served under the infamous Darian brothers of Andor, and been a warrior for his entire life, and he was wondering whether or not he was worthy? The Aielman turned onto his side and stared at his wall, a thoughtful expression creeping over his face. The fact was, he was wondering if he was worthy or not. Since coming to the Tower, he had met warriors that would cause some of the soldiers Jan had known to hide their heads in shame. Only one man that Jan could think of could claim equality to the skills that some of these warriors boasted, and he had been a Warder himself, once upon a time. Could Jan even begin to think he could measure up to the standards the Tower set for him? Did he truly WANT to measure up to those standards? Too many times had Janis seen Gaidin and Warders who seemed utterly without emotion, without even a good-natured glimmer in their eyes. Did becoming a Warder mean he too would have to dispose of his emotions? Did being a Warder mean you could never smile, never laugh, never enjoy life?

Those are some rather strong thoughts for this early in the morning, Janny boy, he thought to himself. You've already promised both yourself and Kana that that won't happen to you. Besides, what would the world be like without a smiling Janis Tearsin? That would be like... Like... Heh, like a Trolloc who preferred a nice salad to a roast leg of man. Now come, you've only got a few hours left before you've got to get up. Close your eyes, and get some bloody sleep. Something tells me you're going to need it.

[Two hours after Early; The Gates of the Grey Tower]

The Aielman choked back a yawn and settled for a shiver instead as the cold morning air bit hungrily at his limbs. His Drin'far'ji uniform, while comfortable in most aspects, was simply not adequate for keeping the chill off of his bones. He rubbed his arms vigorously in a vain attempt to keep what little warmth remained in his body in his body and stifled another yawn.

Still shivering, Jan glanced around at the others who were waiting by the gate. They were all Gaidin, that much Jan could tell without even looking at their rank insignias. They all had that same, stone-faced look that all Gaidin seemed to have. Two of them Jan did not recognize, and he didn't give them more than a simple glance. The third, however, was one Janis knew quite well. His name was Grendel, a tall and stately Cairhien man with no love for the Aiel and even less for Jan. The two had crossed paths twice before, and both times Jan had ended up working his arms off at some menial and degrading task because of some imagined slight he had paid the older man. He shook his head slightly, making sure that the Cairhien couldn't see the motion. If Grendel was in on the test, it was not going to be an enjoyable experience in the least.

He had been told to bring nothing but his Drin uniform. Nothing, including his ring; the Ji'alantin who had summoned him had been very explicit about that. Jan had tried to reason with the man, tried to explain that the ring had belonged to his wife, that he never took it off under any circumstances in memory of her, but the Ji had been unmoved. If looks could kill, Jan was sure that the glare he had turned on the other would not only have slain the man, but also would have had him drawn, quartered, and gutted. Still, in the end, Jan had had no choice but to remove the little ring and place it on his nightstand. The Ji had tried to take it, but Jan had been very adamant about the fact that no one, no one, save himself was to touch that ring. The Ji had seen reason, and the deadly fires that had appeared in the big man's eyes, and had agreed that the ring would stay where it was until Jan returned for it.

The sound of approaching footsteps made Jan turn around, and he felt his eyebrows climb up his forehead when he saw Caden Ives, the Tower's Master of Training, walking towards the group leading several horses. Jan remained respectfully silent as the other Gaidin greeted the MoT, then dipped an elegant bow and spoke a formal greeting as the big Warder turned to him. "I give you greeting, my lord, and wish you a good day."

As Jan straightened, he tried hard to avoid staring at Caden's face. A few weeks ago, the Tower had come under attack by the forces of shadow, led by a dreadlord known only as the Blood Dawn. Jan had taken part in that battle, had in fact played an instrumental role in protecting the Tower, but where he had emerged relatively unscathed, Caden had paid a terrible price. Jan was still not sure how it had happened, but one entire side of Caden's face had been horribly burned and scarred. The flesh was cracked and slick, his eye was a pale white, and where hair even deemed to grow, it only grew in short ugly patches. Jan kept a sad frown from his face as his eyes passed over the older man's scars. He knew what the Gaidin must be feeling, of the dreams and nightmares that must accompany such a horrid disfiguration. He would have to see if he could come up with a way to ease the man's troubles.

Caden nodded once in response, to Jan's bow. "Janis Drin'far'ji," Caden's voice sounded like two whetstones being ground together, "do you stand ready to be tested?"

Jan blinked at the sudden change in subject, but his reply was almost automatic, "I am ready, my lord."

Caden nodded once more and withdrew a long black length of cloth from one of his pockets, "place this over your eyes, Trainee. You are not permitted to view the path we take to your testing place."

Jan blinked again, he hadn't expected that one. But, despite his confusion, he took the blindfold and wrapped it securely around his eyes. "Would it be too much to ask, my lord, if I were to inquire as to the nature of this test?"

"Yes." Caden's curt reply brought a muted chuckle from the other Gaidin, and a flush of color to Jan's cheeks. "I thank you for your brevity in replying, my lord," Jan said wryly. Or rather, he tried to say, for halfway through his reply, his words turned into a yelp of surprise as he was hauled bodily off his feet and plunked down (rather painfully) into what felt like a saddle. Jan's hands scrabbled around, searching for and finding the saddle horn. He clung to it fervently, not trusting himself to remain upright on the horse if he could not see where he was going or what he was doing.

"Janis Drin'far'ji," Jan recognized Grendel's voice from out of the darkness. "The first part of your test has begun. You are not to remove your blindfold under any circumstances, even if we are engaged by shadowspawn. If you do so, or if you disobey any order you are given, you will fail the test. And, should you fail, you will be dismissed from the Tower for all time." Jan couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn that the Cairhien's normally gravelly voice actually brightened up a bit as he outlined that last part. "Do you understand these rules?"

Jan nodded, hoping that the motion would not pitch him out of the saddle, "I do so understand, Gaidin."

"Then," Caden's voice sounded from Jan's left, "let us begin the journey. Forward, Gaidin."

Jan kept a white-knuckled grip on the saddle horn as the horse started forward at a fast walk. It would not, he reflected with a wry smile, be the best way to start the test to fall off the horse and break his neck just a few yards beyond the Tower proper. He wondered what exactly the test consisted of, and why he must be blindfolded before he got there. Oh well, Jan shrugged, those questions would be answered in time. Hopefully, anyway.

[About three hours later; Location Unknown]

They had stopped. That was the first thing Jan became aware of as consciousness returned to him. The second thing he became aware of was that he must have fallen asleep. Probably lulled into slumber by a combination of the rocking of the horse and the perpetual darkness imparted by the blindfold...

Strong hands grabbed him roughly by the front of the tunic and yanked him out of his saddle. Jan barely had time for a yelp before he was sent spinning into another pair of iron bars somebody had decided to use for arms. He was barely there long enough to get his bearings when he was spun again, and this time he hit the grassy earth on all fours. He shook his head violently, trying to clear the dizziness that had sprung up. But, before he could, he was jerked to his feet and spun again.

Jan had no idea what was going on, thanks to both the blindfold and the aftereffects of the nap he had taken. All he knew was that someone, or something, was having a bit of sport with him. In his confused state, he came to a somewhat stable conclusion that some enemy had managed to subdue the Gaidin and was now having a bit of sport with Jan before sending him off to meet whatever fate had been bestowed upon the others.

His fears were dispelled, however, when he hit the earth once more and a familiar voice spoke out above him. "At ease, trainee," Caden's voice spoke out of the darkness. "This is only to ensure that you do not memorize the way back to the Tower, thereby defeating the purpose of blindfolding you on our journey."

"I was bloody asleep the whole burning time," Jan snarled, completely forgetting his manners thanks to the fear and energy surging through his body. "I couldn't bloody find my burned way back to the Flaming Tower if you bloody gave me a light-blinded compass and goat-kissing map!"

A deep chuckle was his only reply, and a canteen was pressed into his hands. "Here you go, young wildcat," the voice was unfamiliar to Jan, so it must have been one of the Gaidin he hadn't recognized. "Drink your fill, and we shall continue on."

Jan muttered his thanks and took a gulp of the cool water, then extended the canteen back in the direction he had gotten it from, feeling it taken from his hands as he did so. He managed to get to his feet unaided, and was guided back to his horse by a pair of strong hands, and helped back into the saddle. Then Caden gave the command to continue on, and the horse started moving again. Jan found himself wondering, rather sullenly, what the Kandoran army was paying its advance scouts this year.

[Nightfall, Location Unknown]

Jan was actually becoming accustomed to the blindfold, as strange as it may have seemed. He found that, with quite a bit of concentration, he could use his other senses to paint a rough mental picture of what was going on around him. A rustling in the wind told him that there were trees on either side of him, a quick sniff told him that several different varieties of flower were also close by. "So tell me," he said to nobody in general. "When do I find out what this test entails?"

"You may know now, if you like," another unfamiliar voice sounded out of the darkness.

"Huh?" Jan had not expected to get an answer, much less an affirmative one. "Well... Alright. Please, tell me."

"You are being led into the Mountains of Mist, where you will be left for a total of seven days to survive on your own."

"Well, okay, that sounds easy enough..."

"You will have no supplies, save what you carry with you and a single hunting knife, which we will leave with you."

"Okay, that could be a little difficult..."

"And at the end of that time, you are to make your way back to the Tower. If you have not returned by the seventh day, you will have failed the test, and you will be dismissed from the Tower."

"Uh..."

"And, should you seek aid from any man or woman, even if it is just for a drink of water, you will fail the test. You are not to leave the forest and make for a village, and you may not accept aid if it is offered to you by someone who happens to stumble on you in the forest. If it is discovered that you have accepted even a single thread more than you have on you now, you will fail the test."

"I..."

"Lastly, if you die, you fail the test. Understand, we will not come look for you if you do not return. You return to the Tower under your own power, or you do not return at all. Do you understand?"

Jan was quite sure his jaw was dangling somewhere around his belly button. Although, in hindsight, he should have expected the test to be something like this, he still was caught off guard about how matter-of-factly the Gaidin had suggested the possibility that Jan could die or worse, get kicked out of the Tower. "Y... Yes," he managed to croak out a reply. He was silent for a long time, considering the implications of what the Gaidin had told him. If he failed this test, all the time he had spent at the Tower would have been for naught. He would be dismissed from it's service, never to set foot in the halls as a member again. He would never see Kanamai again, or Kira...

He would be a man without a home once more. That thought sobered him up almost instantly. Jan had had three homes in his lifetime. His first had been with his family, a small sept in the Aiel waste that had been slaughtered by a rival sept. The second had been with Melchior, and old ex-Warder who had built a small cottage in the Wastes. He had become a second father to Jan after his family had been killed. Melchior had been killed by an unknown Aiel raiding party.

His third home he had found many years later, with the most beautiful woman Jan had ever known. Gwenian had taken Jan in, taught him how to laugh again, taught him to be human again. He had married her, and lived the next few years in peaceful joy as a farmer. Then someone invaded their home while Jan was away working with the Andoran Lancers, and had murdered Gwenian...

Three homes... And a fourth would follow if Jan failed this test. At that moment, a solid chunk of determination hardened in Jan's chest. He would not fail this test, would not lose the only home he had in this world. He would pass, no matter what the cost.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by Caden's voice calling a halt. His horse stopped, and the hands appeared at his side again to help him down. Briefly, he considered what a funny sight he must look, a 6'4 Aielman having to be helped out of the saddle like a young child. He chuckled slightly at that, and continued to smile as he was led over to sit with his back to a large tree.

The night passed quickly, with the Gaidin preparing a fire and a meal that, while he couldn't see it, certainly smelled delicious. He was given a bowl of the food, which he spooned up gratefully. Then a heavy woolen blanket was placed over him to ward off the evening chill, and Jan fell into a deep sleep almost instantly. He didn't see the look the other men in the campsite gave to each other. They each knew that the young Drin was going to need the rest, for the coming trials were going to be neither enjoyable nor easy.

[Morning, Location Unknown]

"You are not to remove the blindfold until you no longer hear our footfalls. If you do, you will have failed the test and..."

"And will be dismissed from the Tower," Jan interrupted Caden with a wry grin. "I think I get the general idea, my lord. No offense intended, but would you mind getting on with it? I'm rather anxious to both begin the test and rid myself of this thrice-burned blindfold."

"Do not presume to interrupt the Master of Training, Tearsin." There was unveiled contempt in Grendel's voice

"At ease, Gaidin." Caden's voice took on a sharp tone as he spoke to Grendel. "Very well, Janis Tearsin. May the light shine on your test, trainee."

Janis was once again helped off of his horse and led into a sitting position up against a tree. Then he heard the sounds of the unknown Gaidin mounting his horse and, at a command from Caden, the party moved off into the distance.

For perhaps the first time in his life, Jan found himself wishing he did not have the acute hearing that all Aiel seemed to possess, for it was a long time before the sounds of hoof beats faded. Finally though, he could hear nothing beyond the awakening forest and his own breathing. He gave himself a ten-count, just to make sure it was safe, then removed the blindfold from his eyes. His immediate surroundings consisted of a clearing within a mountain forest, and he thanked the Gaidin for leaving him so early in the morning, for his eyes took some time to adjust to even the dim light that was filtering in through the treetops.

He gave himself a few more seconds to consider his surroundings. He was in the Mountains of Mist, according to the Gaidin's instruction, but on which side of the Tower he did not know. Nor did he know how far he was from his home, although he could probably make an educated guess about that one. Well Jan, he thought to himself. Nothing will be gained if you just sit about and ponder all day. Let's get up and start surviving.

Jan got easily to his feet and took stock of his meager supplies. A single-edged hunting knife lay at his feet, as the Gaidin had promised, and he had his clothes. And that was it. No, Jan smiled, they had left him one thing more. The thick black cloth that had served for his blindfold. It was such a little thing, but Jan knew that even a little thing like that could mean the difference between survival and death.

Right, let's get down to business, shall we? First, let's get something more substantial than a knife in my hands. The knife, while a very versatile tool in most respects, was not nearly adequate for either defense or hunting. Jan sat back down and removed the belt from around his waist, taking up the knife in his other hand and slicing off a piece of stout leather from one end about a fingerlength long. The rest of the belt went back around his waist as Jan worked the leather in his hands to soften it up a bit. When it was of a suitable softness, he took the knife again and sliced two slits in the leather. Then he grabbed the blindfold and started slashing that up.

When the cloth was both short and slim enough to fit through the slits in the leather, Jan slid it through and knotted twice to keep the leather in one place. Once that was done, he gave it a practice twirl. It wasn't the best-made sling in the world, but Jan had seen worse. He grabbed a handful of loose stones from the clearing floor and shoved most of them into his pockets. One of the rocks was loaded into the sling, and Jan twirled it over his head and let fly, aiming at a tree branch on the other side of the clearing.

He missed. Badly. But when he tried again, he got a little closer to the mark. Jan figured that, with a lot of practice, he should be able to hit what he aimed at, most of the time. The sling had always had a reputation among Jan's mercenary friends as an extremely effective and extremely simple weapon to learn to use. He hoped that they had been right, because that little bit of leather and cloth was going to be one of the only things that stood between himself and hunger.

Jan glanced up at the sky through the canopy of trees. Alright, Jan, he thought to himself. the morning's getting late, so you'd best get moving. Need to find shelter, some food, and some firewood as well. Oh, and I'll need some flint, too, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. That magic little rock should be fairly plentiful up here...

Jan got to his feet and moved off into the forest, making a list of everything else he would need to survive the coming week.

[Evening; A small clearing]

Jan whistled a merry tune as he strode into the clearing he had claimed as his home and dropped an armload of firewood beside the small fire that was already going. With a satisfied grin on his face, the Aielman looked around at his campsite. He had been very prosperous in his efforts, thus far. A small apple tree a few hundred yards north of the clearing had provided Jan with his dinner, and a small blackberry bush had provided him with desert. The apples were roasting over the fire, and the berries were wrapped in several large leaves he had collected from a maple tree. He wished he had managed to get some meat, but he had only seen one or two rabbits and squirrels, and he was just not good enough with the sling to hit much of anything yet.

Still, on the whole, Jan was content. He was getting better with the sling. Hawk and the others had been quite correct in saying how easy it was to learn and use, and he could hurl a rock with enough force to break off a good sized branch from a tree (he hadn't hit the branch intentionally, he had been aiming for a rock at the time), and once the apples were finished roasting, he would have a full belly too.

A burst of thunder from overhead wiped the grin off of Jan's face in an instant. His head jerked up to stare at the sky, and at the dark and angry clouds that had appeared there. When thunder pealed again, Jan's heart did a little flip. It wasn't the noise itself that he was scared of, but rather what that noise signified. The greatest threat a traveler could face was not bandits or Trollocs, or even Myrdraal. It was nature itself; a thunderstorm out in the mountains could be just as lethal as a Darkhound's bite, sometimes more so.

The third burst of thunder broke Jan out of his trance and got him moving. With one hand, he scooped up some dirt and doused the little fire, while the other hand grabbed for the apples and his sling, shoving the fruit into his pocket and wrapping the sling around his waist. He had to move fast, from the look of those clouds. He had to find shelter - A cave of some sort would be best - or risk being killed in the elements. The Aielman sprinted into the forest just as the first drops began to fall.

At first, it seemed as if the Aielman's fears were for naught, for the rainfall was light and Jan was fairly protected by the canopy of trees. But nature has a way of lulling travelers into a false sense of security, then unleashing her fury on them when they drop their guard. Jan did not drop his guard; he had done so once before in such a storm, and had almost paid for it with his life. He continued to run as fast as his legs would carry him, moving south through the forest towards the more mountainous regions of the forest where he fervently hoped to find a cave before the storm broke.

He didn't get his wish. Just as the forest began to thin into rocky hills, the storm came down on him like falling boulder. The wind howled and screamed into a killer gale, pushing Jan one way then the other as he ran on. The rain turned into a deluge, as if somebody had placed a waterfall right over Jan's head, and he was soaked to the bone in seconds. Lightning flashed overhead, accompanied by a roar of thunder that only spurred the Aielman to greater speeds. With every breath of air he took, he inhaled water. It would be, a part of his mind that was strangely disconnected from the unfolding events remarked, an odd thing if he drowned in a forest.

Then Jan was blown off his feet and sent headfirst into the mud. He tried to get up, but his muscles spasmed and would not respond to his call. Dimly, in his mind's eye, he remembered seeing a bright flash only a few spans away right before he had been knocked over. With a supreme effort of will, he forced his head up out of the muck and sucked in air, his eyes trailing back to where he had been standing. Barely three spans away, what had once been a tall and stately oak had been shattered and twisted into a blackened hulk. Lightning, Jan's mind automatically registered the fact. Light, if he had been just a few feet to his left...

After a moment of struggling with himself, Jan regained control of his muscles and forced himself to his feet and kept moving. He had to get out of the storm; he had gotten lucky once, but even his natural optimism wouldn't allow him to think he would get lucky again. His eyes combed the landscape, as far as he could see through the torrent, searching for any kind of shelter. He had to get out of this...

But the storm was not about to let its captive go without a fight. The rain that lashed the Aielman seemed to slow for a second, then it disappeared altogether as it was replaced by hailstones. Jan yelped as the thumb-sized ice balls smacked hard against his bare skin, then howled in pain as one of them smacked hard into his left eye. Another one slammed into his neck so hard it drew blood. Light, he had to get out of this, and needed to get out of it fast.

He almost missed it, he was moving so fast. It was little more than a shadowy outline against the hillside, and it could have easily been nothing more than a trick of the storm. But Jan caught sight of it, and his mind focused in on it like a drowning man clutching at a rope. He made it to the cave entrance in three running strides and dove in to an accompanying roll of thunder. He was getting a bit paranoid where lightning was concerned.

Jan breathed a sigh of relief as he propped himself up against the cave wall and watched the downpour continue. Light, but that was close. I've almost been drowned, fried, beaten to death, and blown to bits, and it's not even the second day yet. And to think, I thought this test was going to be easy.

Jan nodded wearily, just glad that he was able to do so, and took stock of his surroundings. The cave went a little ways further back into the side of the hill, and after two or three yards had enough ceiling height to allow Jan to stand up fully. He crawled back into the cave and did just that, fishing one of the apples out of his pocket and taking a bite as he did so. He was cold, wet, and miserable. He had lost his firewood, his fire, and the apple was fairly mashed from the fall, but he was alive. That was all that mattered. With a final sigh and a mental thanks to the Creator for having found the cave, Jan lay down with his head on his hands and promptly went to sleep.

[The next morning]

Regaining consciousness was a slow and painful process for the Aielman, thanks to the last evening's harrowing experiences. The lightning surge through his body had caused his muscles to stiffen up overnight, and as he regained more of his senses he became aware of a throbbing in his temple. He forced his eyes open and sat up slowly, making sure that every part of his body still worked, and that he was not injured in any serious fashion.

He had received more than a few minor cuts and bruises from his flight, and he also spotted several round scabs on his arms and legs where a hailstone had broken the skin. Jan shook his head, and immediately regretted doing so as the pain in his head increased from merely a painful throbbing to a throbbing of apocalyptic proportions. He put a hand up to his forehead and tenderly touched the fresh bruise he found there. must have been a rock in the mud puddle I landed in last night, he surmised.

Jan glanced at the sky out of the cave entrance. It was sunny and calm outside, the storm had spent its fury in the night and had passed on. The Aielman smiled and stood up slowly; first things first, Janny he thought to himself. Let's see if we can't dig up some Yellowroot for this headache. Then I'd better find some firewood and another flint rock, along with some breakfast.

Jan stepped out of the cave and set off into the forest at a light jog, breathing in the fresh and crisp morning air and feeling the stiffness bleed out of his muscles thanks to the exercise. Within a few minutes, he had found a Yellowroot plant and had yanked it out by its stem. The plant was used a mild painkiller among the Mercenary class and they also gave a mild energy boost when eaten raw. They were known as 'Scout's Candy" because advance scouts continually ate them to keep their energy levels up.

Jan sliced off one of the larger roots and bit into it, making a face at the bitter flavor but sighing with relief as a minute later his headache died down. Oh light, that's much better. Now, let's get some food.

Jan came back to the cave five hours later, barefoot, shirtless, and with a big silly grin on his face. He had indeed better with his sling in those few hours, and had actually managed to fell a pair of rabbits with the little weapon. He had also, miracle of miracles, found a small patch of wild onions that had not been destroyed by the thunderstorm. His pockets had not been big enough to hold all his spoils, so his shirt had sacrificed itself to become a good-sized bag. His boots had given their laces for the creation of a crude length of rope, which Jan had used to set a snare at a small watering hole he had discovered in the forest. The boots themselves Jan had turned into a pair of water containers (after washing them out at the same watering hole)

Jan set the containers down just inside the cave entrance and studied them for a second. Without his boots or shirt, he would be harder pressed by the elements and the rocky soil. But he didn't worry about that too much; his feet would build calluses until he no longer noticed the rocks, and he figured it wouldn't be too hard to ignore the elements.

The Aielman smiled again and dug deeper into his bag, removing a small piece of flint he had found in the rocks surrounding the cave, as well as a few logs he had discovered sheltered from the storm by a stone ridge not far away. They had been wet, of course, but the ridge had protected them from the worst of the storm, and now they were ready for burning. Jan pulled the knife out and cut several small chips from the wood and arranged them into a pile. Then he struck the flint with the blunt edge of the little blade and sent a shower of sparks into the chips. Soon, a merry little blaze was going in the cave, and the Aielman set about the gruesome task of skinning and gutting his catches.

Well, Jan thought as he slit the rabbits' throats and hung them upside down to bleed, I've found some nice shelter, got some meat, have a fire, and I've survived a thunderstorm bent on killing me. What else can happen?

[That evening]

"The wheel weaves as the wheel wills." That was a phrase Jan had heard many times during his life, but had never truly agreed with. Jan had never enjoyed the idea of a vast, otherworldly force that controlled both his actions, and the actions of those around him. However, sometimes when things seemed to be happening faster than he could comprehend, Jan did consider the fact that there might be a strange and omnipotent presence guiding the events of the world. And, on those few occasions when he had cause to consider that fact, he had no choice but to conclude that that presence had a very profound and very twisted sense of humor.

Jan shook his head and glanced over to his new roommate, a large gray wolf that had staggered into the cave a few hours earlier. The creature had been harshly wounded, with several tears in it's ribcage, and a left foreleg that was broken in at least three places, not to mention several smaller wounds throughout it's body. In truth, the wolf was lucky he had stumbled in to that particular cave, because Jan was certain that it's injuries would have proven fatal if left untreated.

Jan stood up and moved over to the injured creature and knelt down, checking the bandages and poultices he had applied earlier. In a way, Jan surmised, it was lucky for both of them that the wolf had been so seriously injured. If he had not been, Jan would never have been able to treat and bandage it's wounds, and the wolf probably would either have bolted from the cave, or tried to tear the Aielman into little bite-sized chunks. As it was, Jan had still suffered several minor scratches before the wolf realized that he was trying to help him.

The animal eyed Jan warily as the Aielman checked the bandages, which he had made by slashing parts of his shirt into strips, and dabbed a bit of a medicinal mix he had created from some of his water and several different herbs and roots into a few of the wolf's minor cuts. "Easy, big guy," Jan murmured as he applied the medicine, "I know this is hurts a bit, but it'll speed up the healing... Hey!" Jan jerked his hand back and muttered a curse as the wolf made a half-hearted snap at his extended hand. "Haven't you ever heard about the consequences of biting the hand that feeds you?"

The only response the wolf gave was an icy look and a snort, and Jan chuckled. "Well, you may have a point there, I haven't fed you yet." Jan smiled, he wasn't Wolfkin, so he hadn't the faintest idea what the wolf might be saying to him right now. For all he knew, the animal was making several disparaging remarks concerning Jan's parental lineage. But he had been around Kira, one of Jan's friends who WAS a wolfkin, long enough to understand that wolves were very intelligent animals. It wouldn't have surprised him a bit to find out that the wolf understood every word that Jan spoke.

Jan put the medicinal paste back on the ground beside the wolf and moved back over to the fire, turning the spit a few times to make sure the rabbits were cooking evenly. The meat was almost done, and the smell in the cave was making Jan's mouth water. He had found a few seasoning herbs in the forest earlier, but he wished he had a bit of salt to add to the meat as well. Ah well, Jan shrugged his shoulders, Suppose I should just make the best of what I have.

Soon, the meat was ready to eat, and Jan grabbed a rabbit off of the spit and tore in hungrily. The taste was excellent (although it would have been better with some salt) and the savory juices dribbled down Jan's chin as he tore in with relish. Then he stopped, as if he had remembered something, and set the meat down on a flat rock he was using for a table. With a little smile on his face, Jan grabbed the other rabbit and moved over to the wolf, who was still watching him with wary eyes.

Jan stopped a few feet from the animal and held the roast rabbit out to it. For a second, the wolf just stared at Jan like he was crazy, but then he reached out and took the meat in his jaws and started tearing into it as though he had survived a seven year famine. Jan laughed, "there you go, my friend. A good meal will surely improve your temperament." The Aielman watched the wolf chew its meal and frowned thoughtfully, why was he doing this? Why was he not only using his small supply of herbs but also his food to help the wolf? He might need those supplies later on, his test might hinge on whether or not he had those supplies, so why was he wasting them on an injured wolf who, like as not, would try to kill Jan once he was better?

Because, long ago, someone did the same for you. The thought came out of nowhere, and startled Jan quite a bit. But, as he thought about it, he realized the truth of that idea. Long ago, he had been in much the same situation as the wolf. He had been badly hurt in both spirit and body, had been approaching the point of madness, and had truly not expected to live much longer. But then he had met Gwenian, a beautiful young Andoran farm girl, and she had saved him. She had not seen an Aiel savage, or a murderous brigand who had destroyed an entire village. She had seen the humanity and the good in Jan when he himself had lost sight of it. She had taken him in, healed his wounds and soothed his spirit, made him well again.

Jan looked up from his thoughts and stared hard at the wolf, who stopped eating long enough to return the gaze. Yes, Jan decided as the wolf went back to it's supper, this was right. Even if the wolf did turn on him, it deserved the chance Jan himself had received so long ago. It deserved the chance to live.

Jan shook his head and went back to his own supper, dispelling the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. Now was not the time for such things, not when he had a test to pass.

[Two days later, early afternoon]

Jan tossed another piece of raw meat to his new friend and munched on an apple as he continued to carve up the deer carcass. The wolf caught the meat in midair and gulped it down without bothering to chew, then went back to nibbling on the bandage around its leg. Jan smiled and shook his head, "I told you, Gray," that was what he had taken to calling the wolf, "if you keep doing that, it's not going to heal any faster." Gray didn't even favor the Aielman with one of his 'how stupid are you' looks, but just continued to nibble.

Jan chuckled again and sliced a haunch off of the dead deer and placed it on another flat rock near the fire pit of the cave. The previous day, Jan had come to the conclusion that the sling would not be adequate to provide food for both himself and the wolf, so he had gone out into the forest and selected three straight saplings of various types. After snapping them off from their bases, Jan had trimmed them down with his knife and sharpened them into serviceable spears. After a little bit of practice, Jan realized that skills he had thought to be lost to him forever were still with him in part. He found he could still hit what he aimed at with a reasonable degree of accuracy, although the motion of throwing the spear still felt odd to him after so many years of wielding a sword. Well, I guess you can take the boy away from the Aiel, but you can't take the Aiel away from the boy, Jan thought with a wry smile.

This morning, he had set out on a hunt. He had been fortunate enough to come across the trail of a deer within an hour after setting out, and had tracked the animal for a good three hours before getting a chance at it. But his chance had paid off, and Jan had enough meat to last both himself and the wolf for the rest of the test. Although, he had realized somewhat belatedly, he had no way of keeping the meat fresh, so he would have to spend the rest of the day, and probably the better part of the night, smoking the meat so it wouldn't spoil on him.

"Gray," Jan's voice took on a scolding tone that made the wolf look up. "Stop chewing on that bandage, now. If you don't, you're going to have a limp for the rest of your life, and how silly would THAT look?" Jan shook his head as this time Gray DID give him one of his looks, but stopped chewing nevertheless. Jan smiled and went back to the deer; he and Gray had reached a sort of agreement over the past couple of days. Jan provided care and food for the wolf, healed it's wounds and the like, and Gray stopped trying to remove Jan's fingers every time he got near. It was not right to say that they had reached the 'friends' stage, but at least they weren't enemies anymore. That was something.

A distant howl made Jan look up from his work and out the cave entrance. "Friends of yours," he asked his companion, who had pricked up his ears and was staring out the cave. Jan blinked when a low growl came from the wolf's throat. "Gray? What's wrong?" The howl came again, and it was closer this time, and Gray's growl increased in volume. Jan's brow furrowed as Grey got to his feet and hobbled over to the cave entrance, his lips pulled back from his muzzle in a snarl.

Jan got up from his kill and tucked the knife into his belt (after wiping it off on the carcass) and grabbed his spears from where they were leaning against the cave wall. Then he went and joined the wolf at the cave entrance, eyes scanning the forest outside for whatever it was that was making Gray act so strange. "What is it Gray," Jan asked again. He didn't expect an answer, and got exactly what he expected as the wolf hobbled out of the cave and stopped several spans out. For a second, Jan thought he heard some rustling in the underbrush, but before he could focus in on the noise it was gone.

They came out of the forest two at a time, and by the time Jan realized what was happening, he and the wolf were surrounded. There were six of them, forming a loose half-circle around the cave, six wolves that did not look at all friendly to Jan's eyes. For long second, there wasn't a sound, not a movement from anyone or anything. Then the spell was broken as a red wolf, one of the largest Jan had ever seen, emerged from the forest directly opposite Gray and Jan.

The Aielman glanced down at his wolfish companion then back up at the newcomer, who was the obvious leader of the pack. "Please tell me," Jan whispered to Gray, "that this is some sort of wolfish greeting ritual?" Gray's only response was a low snarl, the wolf never took his eyes off the Alpha. Jan's eyes, however, flicked around the circle. His eyes narrowed and his combat senses flared into readiness as he saw the same look in the Alpha's eyes mirrored in the eyes of the other wolves. There was a fight coming, there was no way around it. Jan's fingers tightened around the shaft of his ashwood spear as he slowly set the other two on the ground. He could probably get one spear in the air before the wolves got to him. If they charged, Jan would go for the Alpha first, then his next spear would have to be in his hands and ready to take on the wolves in hand-to-paw combat...

It was obvious to Jan why the wolves were here in the first place, but only because he had spent so much time with Kira. Gray must have been the former Alpha of this pack, but the big red must have challenged Gray and won the leadership of the pack. Gray should have been killed, but he must have escaped the combat. If he had died, the pack would never have thought of him again, but because he didn't, and because he was still on the pack's territory, they had hunted him down to finish the job. And now, it appeared, that Jan was caught right in the middle.

It's not your fight, the thought came to Jan totally unbidden and unwanted. It was true, this was not his fight. He could turn around and retreat into the cave, and probably escape the entire battle unscathed. But that would condemn Gray to certain death, and Jan couldn't see his way clear of that. I didn't heal Gray just to have him run out and die on me, Jan's thought was laced with the determination that ran through his entire body. He would see this battle through to whatever end...

But what about the test, Janny boy? Are you willing to take a chance on failing your test for some wolf who probably won't remember you in two days time? that thought troubled the Aielman, and had he had more time to think about it, he might have taken the sensible way out and retreated into the cave. But he didn't get that time. As one, the wolf pack started to close the circle, and Gray's snarl was loud and clear now.

Jan sighed and set his feet, the decision had been made for him, and to turn and run now was to invite a set of wolf's teeth in his hamstring. Sorry Kira, but I can't talk to wolves, and I doubt they'd listen to me anyway. I'm siding with their enemy. Best defense, Janny boy. Best defense. Jan's final thought focused his mind back on the problem at hand. Eugene Darian, one of the many commanders Jan had served under in his long military career, had been very fond of saying 'the best defense is a good offense.' Jan let the Alpha get two steps closer, then pulled his arm back to hurl his spear.

A glance at Gray made Jan change his aim in a split second, and instead of taking the Alpha, Jan's spear flew through the air and cut into the shoulder if dun-colored male to the lead wolf's right. The wolf yelped in pain and ran off into the forest, dragging the spear along with it. In hindsight, Jan supposed he should have taken the leader, but the look in Gray's eyes had been enough to get Jan to change his target. Gray wanted the leader for himself, and he made sure Jan knew it too. The Aielman's purpose in this fight was to run interference, keep the other wolves away from Gray while he and the Alpha fought it out. Jan supposed there was something of a score Gray needed to settle with the younger wolf who had taken control of the pack away from him.

Then the time for contemplation was gone as the pack charged in as one. The two wolves closest to Jan, a brown female and a wiry black male, leaped at Jan with their teeth bared. Jan ducked to the side and twirled his spear, dodging the black and catching the brown on the side of the head with the haft of his makeshift weapon. The brown yelped and came down on its side, scrambling to its feet and away from the Aielman before Jan could finish the job.

As Jan turned his attention to the Black, something niggled at the back of his mind. Something Kira had told him a long time ago about the wolf way of fighting. 'Wolves always go for the hamstring, then the throat.' Realization exploded in Jan's mind a second before it was too late. He twirled on his heel and brought the butt of his staff down on the head of a large gray wolf that had been coming at Jan from behind. The wolf yelped and dropped to the ground, stunned by the Aielman's heavy blow.

As he turned, his vision passed over Gray. The wolf was locked in mortal combat with the big red, but another wolf was coming up on Gray from behind. Jan swore and reversed his grip on the spear and hurled it butt-first at the wolf. The blunt end of the spear slammed hard into the side of the wolf's head, picking the wolf up off its feet and sending it spinning to the earth, out cold. If Gray noticed Jan's lifesaving throw, he showed no indication of it. But now JAN was the one in trouble. His last spear was a good three paces away, and the black wolf Jan had dodged and another gray wolf were charging the Aielman from two sides at once. The Aielman snatched the knife from his belt and ducked another of Black's leaps.

But this time, luck wasn't on the big man's side. The other gray leaped at the same time as Black, and Jan ducked right into the wolf's teeth. The animal's weight and momentum toppled Jan onto his back, and the wolf's teeth were there, seeking his throat. Jan got his left arm up and between himself and those snapping jaws, but the wolf wasn't picky about what it bit down on, so long as it was flesh and was attached to Jan. The powerful jaws closed around Jan's arm and started to tear. Pain shot up the Aielman's arm, but he gritted his teeth against it and slammed the butt of his knife right into the side of the animal's head. The wolf whined and slumped to the ground, letting up on the terrible pressure on Jan's arm.

Jan shoved the wolf off of him, only to be bowled over by two more. This time, Black got in a good chomp on Jan's already injured left arm. A flash of agony speared through Jan, followed quickly by a wave of nausea as a harsh snap told the pack what Jan already knew. Black had broken Jan's arm. And to add to the Aielman's plight, the brown female was back and tearing at Jan's left shoulder.

But Jan was a born warrior, brought up and trained by some of the best warriors the world had ever known; he had faced off with Myrdraal, Trollocs, and even Aiel, and there was no way come Hell or High Water that he was going to be killed by a bunch of wolves. Fighting against the pain, Jan slashed his knife at the animal's exposed ribs, opening a long shallow gash. The wolf didn't let got, though, and Jan followed through by slamming the butt of his knife right between the wolf's eyes. The wolf dropped without a sound. As the black went down, Jan brought the knife across in a wild slash at the Brown.

Jan felt the blade connect, and the Brown let go with a yelp, bleeding from a deep gash in its left side. The Aielman got to his feet, knife held low and ready, and his broken arm dangling limp from his bleeding shoulder. But the battle was all but over. The wolves Jan had stunned were just beginning to come around, the Brown was running back into the forest, and Gray...

Gray had the younger wolf on it's back, and his jaws were clamped down around it's throat. But, as Jan looked, there was no blood or anything on the red's coat. Gray wasn't hurting the wolf, just holding him down on the ground. Even injured, the older wolf was proving his superiority over the young red. The two wolves remained like that for a second longer, then Gray let go with a snort and backed away. The red scrambled to his feet and glared at Gray for a split-second, then uttered a series of short barks. The other wolves climbed groggily to their feet, the black took a minute to stare at Jan with something akin to respect, and then they all followed the red back into the woods.

For a second, Jan and Gray just stared at each other, the battle had taken less than five minutes all told. The battle rush was still flooding in Jan's veins, fighting off the pain and nausea that he knew would overtake him soon. He had maybe two minutes, maybe less, before he would get knocked off his feet by the pain, and he had to act fast before that happened. With a silent nod of acknowledgment to Gray, Jan turned back into the cave and dug into his sack of herbs, removing several different roots and herbs and placing them next to the fire pit. Then, as gingerly as he could, he set several logs on the still-glowing embers of the fire and stoked them into a blaze. Then, even as he felt the first pangs from his arm and shoulder, he grabbed his water boots and hung one of them over the fire on the spit to heat up.

Then the pain hit him, accompanied by the nausea, and Jan screamed. Wave after wave of searing anguish shot up his arm and through his body, and he vomited onto the cave floor. The bile mixed with the blood leaking from his shoulder, and he wanted nothing more than to pass out to get away from the pain. But to do that would probably mean he would never wake up. He had to staunch the flow of blood from his shoulder, and the hardest part, he had to set his arm so it would begin to heal correctly.

The shoulder was the easy part. Working with quick and jerky movements, Jan slashed up the rest of his shirtsleeves and tied it awkwardly onto his shoulder. With a deep breath, he gritted his teeth and took hold of his left wrist. Then, with a quick prayer to the Creator, Jan gave a sharp pull.

[Tarwin's Gap]

"Arthus, we've got three divisions coming up on our left flank, and two more coming right down our throats!" Jan had to shout to have his voice be heard over the roar of battle. "Our reserves are heading to our left now, and Kranatz has sent off to Fal Dara for three more battalions! Watch it!" Jan's bowstring hummed twice in rapid succession, putting two shafts into a charging Trolloc before it could take three steps. The fiery red-haired commander of the Kandoran Free Corps, Arthus Darian, just looked over his shoulder at the dead creature then turned back to Jan and nodded. "Thanks, Jan."

Jan smiled and bowed, "you would have looked silly being a head shorter, commander."

"And I appreciate that. Get back to Kranatz and tell him to shift fall back to the Third Wall. Bloody ash!" Arthus swore heatedly as a black arrow buzzed within an inch of his left ear, "those light-blinded fools are getting better every day. Nearly lost my ear on that one."

"I keep telling you to wear a helmet, Art. That hair of yours is a dead giveaway. Emphasis on dead!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Tearsin, now get moving! Tell Kranatz to hold them for two hours at the Third Wall, and we'll close the box on them once we've dealt with those two divisions you spotted."

"Will do Art, and get a bloody helmet, will you?"

"Sure Tearsin, anything you sa..."

Another arrow sped in, but this one was far more accurate than it's cousin. It caught the young Andoran in the back of his skull, and stopped with the arrowhead protruding from his left eye. Arthus Darian slumped forward and down, dropping in a heap at the Aielman's feet. Jan just stood there in shock as his commander died, brains and blood mixing with the mud on his boots.

Jan didn't feel anything, he was numb, no anger, no sorrow, nothing. Arthus was dead. Just like that.

Dead.

[Deadman's gully, Three-fold land]

"Come on, boy, keep that axe moving. You've got to present a strong defense, but be ready to strike in an instant." Melchior's voice made the sound of gravel being crushed sound like the sweetest music ever produced by man. His long polearm weaved around in front of Jan in a tight circle, probing every now and then for an opening in Jan's defenses.

"Not today, master," Jan's young voice was confident and strong. "I'm not going to lose today. You've beaten me every time we've tried this combination, but not today. I'm ready for you."

"You think so?" Melchior lunged forward with the tip of his practice spear, then jerked back and swept the butt end up at Jan's chin. The young Aielman saw the blow coming and swept his axeblade down to counter.

The heel of Melchior's boot appeared out of seemingly nowhere and slammed hard into the side of Jan's head, sending him spinning to the earth as stars exploded in front of his eyes. Jan hit the ground hard, but rolled up and grabbed the wooden knife in his belt. He came up in a low crouch... And found himself staring at the business end of Melchior's spear. "Now, what was that about not losing today?"

"How did you do that?" there was disbelief in Jan's voice. "I never even saw that coming, how did you do that?"

Melchior stood the spear up and pulled Jan to his feet. "You used too much movement on the counter. You have to remember, with the size of the axe-blade, you have a blind spot anytime you whip the axe around too much. Now, I believe the wager was 'loser goes on the hunt,' was it not?"

"Yes master," Jan grumbled as he rubbed his jaw "I'll get to it right away."

"I like my pork cooked in a light wine sauce, with a garnish of cactus fruit and some cold water." Melchior was smiling, but Jan couldn't see it from underneath the man's huge set of snowy whiskers.

"Yes, I'll keep that in mind, Master Melchior. Would you also like me to cross over into the wetlands and get you some of those apples you keep telling me about?"

"Only if you have time, boy. Now get moving, it's almost noon and I expect to be eating roast pork by nightfall."

"Yeah yeah, I'll do my best." Jan walked into the small cottage the two of them called home and grabbed his bow and quiver from where they hung on the wall. He also grabbed his spear, which went into a case on his back. Then he moved out and gave a mock salute to his old friend and master. "I'll be back soon, Melchior. Try not to eat the walls while I'm gone."

Jan spent nearly three hours in the waste, tracking down a large specimen of the wild pig that lived within the three-fold land. He finally found it, and slew it with one well-placed arrow. He was another two hours in getting back to the little cottage, mainly because he had to bleed the pig, and then trek back to his home with an extra hundred pounds of meat on his back.

As he neared the cottage, a familiar and chilling noise came to his ears. Screams of dying men, the clash of steel, and the battle cry of Jan's friend and mentor.

Jan dropped the pig and sprinted over the last hill, his hands grabbing his spear out of its case and removing the oilcloth wrappings from the spearhead. When he came over the hill, a frightening scene met his eyes. Melchior was surrounded by an Aiel war party, the old Warder's blade was flashing in a killing circle, cutting down whatever came within the weapon's reach.

Jan knew he should have rushed in, charged to the aid of his old master, but the deadly beauty of Melchior's battle dance transfixed him. A thrill of pride fluttered in Jan's chest as even the Aiel began to shy away from the old warrior.

Then what must have been the leader of the war party stepped forward and challenged the old man. Melchior accepted the challenge with a flashing smile and a flashing blade. It was sword against spear, Warder against Aiel, Jan's friend against his enemy. The Aiel was clad in black and moved like he had been born with a spear in his hands, but Melchior was a Gaidin, a perfect warrior from beyond the Spine of the World. Jan figured his old master would win without much trouble.

He was wrong.

Melchior stumbled in mid swing, dropped his guard for a split second, And the Aiel made his move. Jan saw the point of the man's spear enter Melchior's belly and explode out of his back in a torrent of blood and ichor. The image was engrained in Jan's mind as his master's body fell forward onto the Aiel's spear.

There was a scream in his ears and he realized it was his own as Jan stood up and charged wildly down the hillside towards the Aiel party. He would kill them all! He would remove their heads and spike them on their own spears! He would bathe in the blood of his enemies, would destroy them and their families for what they had done! Blood would run freely in the sands of the...

[Andoran Plains]

"Jaa-niis, supper's ready dearest!"

Janis looked up from his hoe and wiped the sweat off of his brow with a gloved hand, "I'll be in in a minute, Gwen, I just have to finish this row."

The raven-haired beauty just smiled and shook her head, "you always say that, dearest, and I don't see you again until dark. Now come inside, I've made sweet potatoes and chicken pie."

Jan's smile shone like the sun, as he doffed his straw hat and set it back on the scarecrow from whom he had purloined it. "You twist my arm, fair maiden," He chuckled as he stepped out of the cornfield and walked towards Gwenian. "How can I ever say no to an offer like that?"

Gwen laughed, "I'm sure you could think of a reason if you tried hard enough, my husband," she said with a little smile. "Light, if you showed as much devotion to me as you did that farmland of yours, I'd be the happiest woman in the world... Oh!" Gwenian let out a little gasp as her husband swept her off her feet and into his strong arms. "Are you implying that I don't care for you, milady," Jan asked with an impish grin on his face. "Very well, as of this moment, I renounce all my ways and devote my life solely to satisfying your every need. How's that," he asked with a quick peck on her cheek.

"Hmm," she smiled, "I think I could live with that." She rested her head against her husband's chest, "but you're a liar, Jan. You love farming, almost more than you love me."

"I love farming, true enough," Jan's voice was soft as he looked into her eyes. "But it is nothing compared to my love for you, Gwen. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Gwen smiled and looked up at him through her lashes, "and I love you too, Janis Tearsin."

"Well, now that we've settled that," Jan said with a twinkle in his eye, "I believe you were saying something about sweet potatoes?"

"Oh you..." Gwen laughed along with Jan as he carried her across the yard and into their little cottage. The inside was sparsely furnished, but it was warm and cozy. The table was set for two, and a heaping bowl of sweet potatoes was keeping warm on the stove next to a large chicken pie. The smell had Jan's mouth watering before he even got through the door. Light, he was happy. He had his own home, he had given up his sword for a plow, and he had Gwenian. He had never been this content in his life, not even when he had been with Melchior. Here, he was truly complete.

He set Gwen down inside the door and went into their room to change from his dirty overalls into something a bit nicer. That was one thing that Gwen insisted on, the he not eat at the table with those 'ragged and unclean rags draped over his body.' Jan chuckled, remembering the time when he had tried to eat without changing, just to see what would happen. Gwen had overturned a pot of steaming hot applesauce over his head. When Jan had finished dancing around from the heat, she had made him clean up the entire mess, and then go change for supper.

Jan was still smiling when he came out of the room dressed in breeches and a short-sleeved tunic, expecting Gwen to be waiting for him at the table. But she wasn't. Instead, she was over by the front door, staring at him with a strange look on her face. "Gwen, what...?"

His heart stopped in his breast when he saw the hand holding a knife to her throat, a hand that was attached to a large man dressed all in black, standing behind Jan's wife. "Hello, Tearsin," the man's voice was low and gravelly, but held a terrifying quality that Jan couldn't place, nor did he care to.

"Who are you? Let her go," Jan shouted and took two steps forward, hands balling into fists.

"No, I don't think I shall, Tearsin. Stay where you are, or she dies."

Jan stopped and stood where he was, his entire body quivering from rage, and from fear. "Look, don't hurt her. Do whatever you want, take whatever you wish, just leave her alone!"

"Jan..." there was terror in Gwen's voice that was reflected in her eyes.

"Aww, isn't that sweet now, the loving hubby, so helpless and afraid for his lady wife. Gets me right here, I tell ya. Right here." The man's knife hand made a jerking motion towards the left side of his chest, and Gwenian slumped in his arms as a red line appeared on her throat. "Oopsie," the man sneered, "look what I did now. So sorry, old man, better luck next time."

Gwenian slumped to the floor, blood gurgling from her slit throat. Jan screamed and leaped forward, not sure if his hands were reaching out to hold Gwenian or to close around the man's throat. Anger and fear and sorrow mixed together in his veins, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead as his hands reached out...

[???????]

Jan's scream brought him back to reality, or so he thought. When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing except a dull white. He could see no horizon, no sky, and if it weren't for the fact that he was standing up, he wouldn't even be sure that there was a floor. As the last echoes of the scream faded away, Jan wondered two things; first, where in the world he was, second, why had he been screaming?

"Ah yes, it's all so very confusing, isn't it, Janny boy?" The voice from behind Jan sounded familiar and strange at the same time. Jan whirled to face the speaker; he was almost Jan's height, but the cowl of a long black cloak hid his face. "Although," the figure continued, "I am impressed that you managed to make it out of my little delusions."

Jan frowned and took a step forward, there was something strangely familiar about the man opposite him. "Where am I? And who the bloody light are you?"

"Why Janny, I believe I'm offended that you haven't recognized me yet. How could you be so dense? You know, I'm amazed you've survived for as long as you have."

Jan was getting mad now, "you seem to know me, neighbor, but I do not know who you are nor why you have brought me to this... place. But I do know that if I do not get some answers, I will be obligated to rearrange your facial features. Who are you!?"

The other man started laughing quietly; "shall I remove my hood, Tearsin? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, burn it, take off your bleeding hood before I rip it off and your head along with it!"

"Very well, Tearsin." The figure reached up and lowered his hood, and Jan just stared. It was as if he were looking into a mirror. The face of the cloaked figure was his own. But, where Jan's face was ordinary - if somewhat good-humored - the face staring back at him was twisted with insanity.

"Not who you were expecting now, was it Tearsin?" The figure laughed harshly, "you still don't get it, do you? You went through all those illusions, all that trauma relived, and you still just don't get it. I think I'm amazed."

It all came rushing back to Jan, the memories of Arthus, of Melchior and Gwenian, and their deaths. "No," his voice was still confused. "it didn't happen that way, none of it happened that way..."

"You're still not hitting the ball, Tearsin, think bigger."

Jan frowned, then his eyes widened with recognition. The black figure in his dreams, the black arrow that had slain Arthus, and Jan's own twisted visage leering back at him...

"You!" Jan's voice cracked, and his hands balled up into fists as realization dawned on him.

"Give the boy a prize, he finally figured it out. Yeah, me Tearsin. The Black Walker, your own personal demon. Missed me, didn't ya?"

"This isn't possible, how can this be happening...?"

"Come on, Tearsin, you've got to be smarter than that. But, just for the sake of brevity, I'll spell it out for you. When you yanked your... excuse me... OUR arm back into place, you passed out. Fact is, you've been out cold for a good thirty hours, and infection has long since set in on that arm. So, quite naturally, your will has been weakened by having to fight both the infection and me. But my will doesn't weaken, Tearsin. I'm as strong as I ever was, and now I'm out. And I'm having a ball; I don't think I've ever had as much fun as I've had today, traipsing through your memories, having my way with every one of your precious little friends..."

The Walker's lips twisted into a crazy smile, "no, I think I'm wrong. I think I had more fun at Dibber's Crook than I have had today. Remember that, Tearsin? How it felt when you destroyed that town? The blood of men, women, and children staining our blade? The feeling of power we had when we cut that little girl's throat..."

"Stop it!" Jan's scream cut through the Walker's speech like a knife through butter. Somehow, a sword had appeared at Jan's side, and he tore it from its sheath and charged the walker.

"Oh, so you want to fight, eh? Okay Tearsin, bring it on!" The Walker's black blade appeared from beneath its cloak and smacked hard into Jan's sword. For what followed, there are no words in the human language to describe. It was a battle that was fought in the recesses of Jan's fevered mind, between himself and the darkest corner of his psyche, from which only one of them could walk away.

With a final twirl of his blade, Jan caught the Walker's dark sword in a skillful disarm and sent it spinning across the... area. The Walker wasn't laughing any more, and it's crazy eyes held something new. Fear. "No Tearsin, you can't survive without me! You have no way to live without me! We are a team, two parts of the same whole!" Jan was hearing none of it. All he saw was Darian with the black arrow in his head, Melchior with the Aiel spear through his belly, and Gwenian...

What burned in Jan's eyes was something far beyond anger, or rage, or even hatred. What burned in Jan's eyes was holy wrath, fires that would have sent the Dark One scurrying back into his hole. "I have lived," he snarled every word, "my entire life with you, cursed one. I have done things I cannot live with because of you. But no more, your part in my life ends here, and it ends now! Die, Black Walker, and may you burn in every hell pit from here to the Dark One's tomb!"

Jan raised his blade over his head, intending to split his enemy straight down the middle. But the stroke never fell. Before the blade could even begin it's descent, Jan heard another voice. It was soft and kind, and one that Jan recognized in an instant.

"Jan..."

The Aielman felt the blade slip from his fingers and heard it clatter on the floor as he turned to face the speaker. It was Gwen, clothed in a simple white robe and with a look of worry on her beautiful face. "Jan, don't..."

Jan couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. He just stared, more confused than he had ever been. "Gwen.. I... I...?"

A little smile appeared on the woman's face, "its okay Jan. It's really me."

"No! How did you get here!?" The Walker's crazed voice broke in.

"You didn't really think you were the only one with an inside track to the kid's mind, did you boy?" Jan and the Walker turned as one to the new voice. "Melchior..." Jan breathed the name in disbelief as he recognized his old friend and master. "What...?"

"Come on, Jan, you spent all that time around me, didn't you learn anything?" Jan turned again to see Arthus Darian, in full battle gear, tromping up beside him.

"Wha...?"

Melchior drew his silver-hilted sword and moved to block the Walker, who was edging towards Jan with a snarl on his face, "Figure it out, boy. I taught you better than this. This thing," the old man gestured towards the Walker, "was playing you like a harp, boy. He played on your emotions, your anger and fear, and even your love."

"He wanted out, Janny boy," Arthus moved in behind the Walker, trapping him between Melchior's bastard sword and his own battle-axe. "Wanted control of that skull of yours like nobody's business. So, when that fever hit, he found an opening and stepped through it."

"If you had killed him out of hatred, Jan," Gwenian came up and placed a hand on Jan's shoulder, "you would have been no different from him. You would have opened up the doors completely, my love, and you would have woken up as the Walker."

"If you had killed him at all," Melchior cut in, "you would have woken up as the Walker. You can't beat this scum by force, boy, you can't beat him by becoming him."

Jan looked with amazement stamped on his features from Melchior, and to Arthus, and finally to Gwenian. "But how did you...?"

"The Walker represents the worst in you, my Warder," Jan turned once more to see Kanamai walking towards him. "But we, Melchior, Arthus, Gwen, me, we represent all that is good within you. We're the memories, the ideals, and the emotions that we have left with you, Jan. And, once the Walker broke through your defenses, we came to your aid."

"No! Damn you all! I was so close!" The Walker was screaming obscenities at each of the newcomers, but was not moving from where the soldiers' blades had it cornered.

Understanding about what had almost happened exploded in Jan's mind. His head spun, and he fell to his hands and knees and threw up on the whiteness. For a long time, the only sound was the Walker screaming, and Jan became aware that Gwen was kneeling beside him, offering him a comforting hand. "I almost killed him, Gwen... I almost destroyed myself..."

The pretty woman smiled, "the man I loved would never kill an unarmed man, Jan. You're just not capable of it."

Jan nodded his thanks and stood up slowly. He looked over at the Walker, who suddenly looked apprehensive, as if he could sense something had changed. Jan walked over to his other half, his darker side, until he stood toe-to-toe with the thing. "Walker," there was no anger in Jan's voice, just a quiet determination. "You are no longer welcome in my mind." Jan balled his right hand into a fist, and slammed an uppercut straight into the creature's chin.

The Walker went over backwards, and disappeared into the white. Jan shook his hand, "so long, Walker."

"You done well, boy. You done real well." Melchior clapped Jan on the shoulder, and smiled through his beard. "You have a great heart, boy, and always remember that the heart makes the warrior. You've surpassed my hopes, Jan. I never expected you to become so skilled, nor so honorable. Well done, Jan, you are a true warrior.

Melchior clapped Jan one more time and faded out into the whiteness.

"You've got heart, alright Janny boy," Arthus Darian smiled and placed a hand on Jan's shoulder, "but you've got a mind to match. Now, I realize that technically I'm still alive, but I think I'd say the same thing if I were here today. You always did have a head for tactics, but more than that, you've got a noggin full of wisdom upstairs. Hold fast to that, Janny boy, and you've got it made no matter what you do."

Arthus grinned again, then vanished the same as Melchior.

"You are my protector, Jan," Kanamai smiled warmly at him. "but more than that, you are a strong Tower for me to hide in, a pillar for me to lean on. You are my Warder, Jan, but more than that, you are my friend." Kana smiled at him again, and faded out like the others.

And that left only Gwenian. Jan turned sadly to his wife and tried to muster a smile. "And now I must watch you disappear as well?"

Gwen just nodded, "you have to wake up sometime, Jan."

The Aielman shook his head, "if waking up means I have to leave you, then may I sleep forever. I don't want you to leave, Gwen, I miss you."

"Jan," Now a note of sadness could be heard in Gwen's voice as well, "you know you don't mean that. You have too many responsibilities out there. Besides, as long as you remember me, remember what we had together, I'll still live on in your heart."

"I'd want you to live on in my life, Gwen."

Gwen just smiled sadly, "I know Jan, but you've got to wake up now."

"But Gwen..."

"There are people out there who need you, Jan, even more than I did. You are a good man, Janis Tearsin, and you will always be a good man. Nothing can take that away from you, Jan. Not the Walker, not becoming a Gaidin or a Warder, nothing.

"Gwen..."

"Wake up, Jan."

[The cave, nighttime]

Jan woke up to pain, and lots of it. His arm and shoulder were throbbing to a ¾ time beat, and the rest of him was burning up from fever. Jan shook his head slightly and struggled up to a sitting position and looked around the cave. The fire was cold, and the only light in the cave was filtering in from the full moon. Gray was nowhere to be seen, and there were no tracks that he could see leading from the cave. He must have thought that I was dead, or dying, so he took off...

Then the tears started up as the memories of the dream came back full force. But even as he wept, he came to realize that something felt different. He frowned in thought, trying to figure out what had changed...

The Walker was gone. The realization came as both a surprise and an expectation fulfilled. He no longer felt the dark presence lurking in the back of his mind, no longer had to hold that terrible part of himself in check by strength of will. Jan smiled as the tears started up again; thank you, Gwen.

Thank you all.

[The next morning]

Jan woke up slowly, savoring the fact that he had woken up at all. His arm didn't hurt quite as much as it had last night, and even the fever seemed to have lessened a bit. Jan sat up and looked at his bandage, and then shook his head. What he hadn't seen by the light of the moon was that his wounds had indeed become infected, and the bandages needed to be changed as well...

Jan blinked; 'what he hadn't been able to see by the light of the moon...'

The light of the full moon?

Jan jerked upright, ignoring the pain that shot through his arm from the sudden movement. Oh dear sweet light, last night had been a full moon. That meant that he only had a day left to get back to the Tower... Oh light, he had been out for two days straight, and the test ended tomorrow! If he didn't get back by tomorrow night, he would fail the test, he would be thrown out of the Tower...

Like bloody ash I will Jan's stubborn determination flared up as he climbed to his feet. I didn't re-live the deaths, albeit outrageously twisted versions of them, of my best friends, fight with myself for hours on end, and finally have to leave my love again just to fail this light burned test! So burn me for a fool, blind me for an idiot, or just hit me while I'm down, but there's no way come hell or high water I'm failing this light-forsaken test! Broken arm or no bloody broken arm!

Jan swore heatedly and grabbed his herb bag from where it had been laying for the past few days and snatched several of the ingredients from the bag. There was no hot water, and he didn't have time to boil any, so he sliced up the rest of his shirt/bag for bandages and ground up the herbs onto them. Once that was done, he poured the rest of his boot water onto the bandages to prepare them as best he could.

Then, bracing himself for just an instant, he tore the old bandages off. There was a wave of pain, but it was nothing in the face of the famous Tearsin stubbornness and Jan just snarled it down. The bleeding started anew, but that was good. Jan let the blood flow for a few minutes, letting his body cleanse itself as best it knew how, all the time examining the wound. The skin was angry red and inflamed, and it was hot to the touch. can't be helped, Janny, bandage it up and get moving.

The Aielman took his own advice and wrapped the fresh bandages around the wound as tightly as he could, then fashioned a very rudimentary sling for his arm from the rest of the cloth. Okay, got the ol' major injuries taken care of, now I've got to get the stuff for my journey back.

Jan moved out of the cave, and shook his head when he saw the aftermaths of the battle with the wolves was still where he had left them. His spears had warped, and his knife had rusted from the damp mountain air. But, all things considered, Jan probably wasn't going to need the knife or the spears any more. One thing he WAS going to need, however, was a walking stick. The terrain around the cave was not very forgiving, and the last thing Jan needed was to fall and break ANOTHER limb. That would kill him as surely as if he had been struck by that lightning bolt on the first day.

Right, walking stick first, provisions... What provisions? I'm going to be walking my tail off as it is, I'm not going to have time to eat much more than my own dust, and I'll be lucky if I get that. Light, it's almost noon, I've got to get moving!

Early on the first day, when Jan had first fashioned his sling, he had tracked the Gaidin's horses for a good several miles. They had doubled back several times, and had also tried to cover their tracks, but when Jan had been with the Kandoran Free Corps, his comrades had been fond of saying he could track a gust of wind in a hurricane. And five Gaidin on horses were neither a gust of wind, nor in a hurricane. After two hours of tracking, Jan had discovered which direction the Tower lay in, and had engraved that in his mind. That direction was still with him now, and he started off for the Tower without a one more moment's hesitation.

[Nightfall, somewhere in the forest]

Night was coming on, but Jan couldn't stop. He had been making slower progress than he had originally hoped thanks to his injuries. He had found an oak branch of an appropriate size and strength for a good walking stick, and that had helped some. But still, if he hoped to make it to the Tower by the finish time, he would have to walk long into the night, and probably have to start walking long before dawn broke...

"Ya know, friend, most sensible folks would know that it's dangerous ta walk around these woods after dark, ya know?" The voice intruded on Jan's thoughts, and made him turn to face the speaker. He was a young, unshaven man with a naked sword in one hand and a dagger on the belt at his waist. bandit,Jan registered the fact automatically. He had seen many such brigands in his lifetime, and would probably see many more. He supposed he should be afraid, he was an injured man without a weapon except for his walking stick, and he was alone where the bandit probably had several friends to back him up.

But he wasn't afraid, not after what he had been through in the past week. "Son," his voice was strong and confident, "let's not try to fool me, shall we? I know you're a brigand, and you know you're a brigand. I also know that I have nothing you would want, and I wouldn't give it to you if I did. Now, kindly tell your fellows up ahead to move out of my way, or I will be forced to kill you all."

The bandit just laughed, "who do you think you are? I ought to..."

"I don't think, son," Jan's suddenly became low and dangerous. "I know exactly who I am. I'm the son of an Aiel warrior, brought up in a land that would chew you up and spit your soft pink body out again. I've been fighting real battles since before you were able to form a coherent sentence! I've trained with Warders, fought with soldiers, bled with farmers, and killed with mercenaries. I've served under the Darian brothers of Andor, defended Tarwin's Gap with my life's blood, killed a score of halfmen, and destroyed more Trollocs than I can remember."

Jan didn't know it, but his eyes were blazing with a proud fire, and he was slowly advancing towards the suddenly less-than-confident brigand. "I am Janis Tearsin, I am a warrior born of warriors. I've survived wounds that would kill an ordinary man, faced down creatures that would send other men fleeing in terror, received a wound from a Halfman's blade, and lived to tell the tale! I've fought my demons, defended my friends, and loved only one woman with all of my heart! And, if you do not get out of my way, I am the man that is going to kill you without a second thought! Do you understand me, boy!?"

The boy backed away from Jan with terror written on his face, keeping his sword between himself and the crazy Aielman. "We've got a live one here boys," the boy's voice tried to sound confident, but came off as scared witless. "How about some..." the bandit's voice trailed off and his eyes got even wider at the sight of something behind Jan.

Jan took the opportunity when it presented itself and lunged. The staff slammed hard into the boy's gut, bending him double. Then Jan dropped the staff and grabbed the boy by the back of his neck and hoisted him upright, a knee to the hand sending the sword spinning into the forest as he did so. Then he glanced up the path at what had caught the boy's attention.

Gray stood in the center of the path, two patches of cloth dangling from his mouth and what Jan could have sworn was a grin on his muzzle. Jan smiled and shook his head, then glanced back at the boy, "oh yeah," he said as an afterthought. "I also have a wolf for a friend. Now, I'm going to give you a choice. You can either stay around here and try your luck at fighting an Aielman with a broken arm..." Gray barked once. "And a wolf," Jan nodded in the direction of his friend. "Or, you can follow your friends who I believe my wolfish companion has already helped on their way. Your choice, but may I suggest the second option?"

The boy was smart, he chose the second option.

"Good to see you again, Gray," Jan said as the wolf fell into step beside him when Jan started walking again. "I was afraid you had abandoned me there for a while."

The only response Jan got was one of Gray's looks.

[Sunset, the Grey Tower]

"You must face facts, Caden. The boy has not been heard from since we left him in the forest. He is not coming back, but you must make the proclamation." Grendel had been lobbying for several hours now to have Caden declare the young Aielman's test over, and the Aielman officially excommunicated from the Tower. He had not been finding very many sympathetic ears, but that had not stopped him. He did not want Janis Tearsin returning to the Tower under any circumstances.

"Grendel," Caden's voice held a very unfriendly tone, even for him. "I will not tell you again. The boy has until the last rays of daylight have disappeared to return. Now, you will shut your mouth and not bother me about it again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very clear, my lord," Grendel's voice was sullen, but the finality in Caden's tone had left no room for argument. Grendel wondered, not for the first time, if he should have hired somebody to go out and make sure the young Aiel savage did not return to the Tower at all. Well, perhaps it wasn't too late. Perhaps, if he moved fast enough...

"My lord Caden! Lord Caden!" A young Drin burst into the room - without knocking, the strict Cairhien noticed with a scowl - and dipped a hurried bow to the Master of Training.

Caden rose from his chair, turning his good eye to the trainee and frowning slightly. "You have, of course, heard of knocking before you enter a superior officer's study, trainee?"

The Drin tried hard not to look at Caden's scarred visage, and failed miserably. "I-I-I-I'm sorry, my lord, but Janis Tearsin has arrived at the Tower gates and he told me to send word to you! Forgive my error, my lord."

Grendel's heart sunk at the Drin's message, that Aiel bastard had made it back to the Tower? How was that possible, the man was Aiel! Those savages barely knew what a river was, how could he possibly survive for a week in a bloody forest!? How could...?

"Tell him to prepare for the ceremony, trainee, and then send word to the honor guard to assemble in the Foyer." Caden's curt orders cut through Grendel's thinking. The Cairhien stood up and bowed stiffly to the older man, "my lord, I believe I will take my leave now. If you have need of me..."

"I have great need of you, Grendel. You are part of the honor guard, you are to assemble with the others in the Foyer by the last bell. Dismissed."

Grendel managed to keep a scowl off of his face until AFTER the door to Caden's office closed behind him. Burn it all, Tearsin made it back! Well, maybe there was still time, maybe, if he was lucky, he could keep Tearsin from showing up at the Foyer at the last bell. Well, it was worth a try.

He found the Aielman on the Tower proper, right where he expected to find him. He had a crowd of children gathered around him, and it looked like he was telling them some kind of story. The man's appearance startled him a little, the broken arm especially, but it was the man's companion that truly startled the Gaidin. None of the children dared to approach the large gray wolf, but several of them had formed a little semi-circle around the animal and were staring at it with wide eyes.

Jan glanced up and caught sight of the man, but his little smile never wavered as he ushered the children away from himself. The Gaidin scowled, there was indeed something different about the Aielman, even beyond what he had seen in most Drin returning from their test. Something beyond the normal refining process had affected this man.

Well, Grendel's scowl deepened, that made no difference. "Tearsin, I would speak with you!"

"Grendel," Jan's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Just the man I did not want to see."

"You shouldn't have come back, Tearsin. The saying goes, with greater power comes greater responsibility, well I can see to it that your responsibilities run you so ragged that you don't have time to do anything except work and sleep. I can see to it that you are assigned such menial tasks, that it will make the lowest stable boy seem like a king compared to what you do."

"Grendel," there was steel in Jan's voice. "Do you see this arm? I was injured while I was fighting a wolf pack with nothing but a sharpened stick. I was nearly incinerated by a rogue lightning bolt, I was nearly killed by a mountain thunderstorm, and I have existed on my own in an environment totally foreign to my upbringing. I have gone through hell and back, Grendel. I have relived the deaths of the three people I cared about most in my life, I have faced my personal demons in one-on-one combat, and I won. I have walked all day and all night with a broken arm and an infected shoulder, and despite all odds I have not only survived, I have returned to the Tower to claim what is rightfully mine."

"And you," Jan rose to his full height and looked the older man square in the eye, "think that mucking out a few stables is going to keep me from walking down that aisle? Do you really think that manual labor and a few empty threats from a pompous and bigoted windbag can compare to what I have faced?" Jan laughed harshly, "nothing you can do can touch me anymore, Grendel. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a test to finish. Goodbye, Grendel."

Grendel watched the Aielman walk away with a mixture of awe and outrage stamped on his normally-stony face. He opened his mouth to say something, but the memory of the fires in Tearsin's eyes shut it again. He opened it again, and the memory of the steel in the Aielman's voice closed it again. He opened it once more, and it was the sight of Jan, walking tall and proud despite a broken arm and shoulder burning with infection, closed it one last time. Tearsin had been right. There was nothing the Gaidin could do that would shake him now, and Grendel knew it.

[The Grey Tower Foyer, the Last Bell]

The stubbornness that had kept Jan going for more than forty-eight hours was beginning to wear off. But, when Jan got to the head of the walk of honor, and saw his comrades lining both sides of the red carpet, Jan felt something else take the place of that stubbornness. Pride swelled in his breast and filled his veins, fighting back against the pain of the infection and the arm. Against all odds, he had succeeded.

There was no music as Jan started down the carpetway, nor was there any fanfare to signify Jan's accomplishment. But, somehow, the respectful silence kept by all present seemed far more appropriate than some elaborate presentation.

Jan reached the end of the carpet and knelt in front of the gathered Warder officers, looking into each of their faces in turn. Sigmund's face was set in the typical stony Warder face. Saphire's face was also expressionless, but Jan could see the twinkle in her eyes. She had always been one of his biggest supporters. And then there was Caden; the Master of Training nodded once, then drew the ceremonial sword at his hip and spoke out in his command voice, "Janis Tearsin, you have passed the trials set upon you by your superiors, and have passed them admirably and without dishonesty. Therefore, it is my honor to confer upon you, the rank of Ji..."

A gasp from the end of the corridor broke into Caden's speech, and the MoT's face broke into a scowl at the interruption. "What is the...?" Caden also trailed off when he saw the cause of the disturbance. In the middle of the carpet, padding towards Jan and staring at the humans on both sides of him with a good deal of suspicion, was Gray. Jan had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the expressions on some of the younger WiT's faces.

"And who," Caden's voice radiated displeasure, "is this, Tearsin?"

Jan couldn't keep a smile off of his face, "this is Gray, my lord. A friend I met on my journey, and who helped me fight off a few bandits I was having a problem with."

"Tearsin! The rules said you were not to accept help from anyone!" Grendel was really clutching at straws now.

"No, Grendel Gaidin, the rules said I could not accept help from any person. There was nothing in there about accepting help from a wolf."

There was a low chuckle that ran through the room, although Caden himself seemed to be immune to the humor. "A rule which, I'm sure, will be addressed in the future, Janis Tearsin. Now, if it's not too much trouble, may we continue?" Caden's voice took on a sarcastic note.

"By all means, my lord."

"Then as I was saying, it is my honor and duty to confer upon you, the rank of Ji'alantin in the Grey Tower." The sword came down and touched each of Jan's shoulders, then returned to Caden's hip. "Rise up, Janis Ji'alantin!"

Jan rose up to the applause of his comrades and his superiors, and his heart swelled with the pride he was feeling. But when he turned to walk back down the carpet, his vision blurred for a moment. Suddenly, he was back in the vast whiteness, and Gwenian was there, smiling at him. Then the moment passed, and Jan was jerked back to the present by Saphire's voice asking him if he was alright. "I'm fine, my lady," Jan said with a little smile.

"I've never been better."

Fin.