Fanfic:Memories of a Lost Trimak
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Under the light of the Creator there are many patterns. There are some that could be called paradise, and some nightmares. There is one world being woven by his direct hand, where there is a life and death struggle. Where the Lord Dragon, the champion of the people will soon defeat the Dark One and save all patterns. But there is one pattern, where the darkest threads have been illuminated. And where the brightest have been tainted and darkened.
All Patterns have their stories, this is one from that strange, dark world.
In a dark green forest, under the fullness of the night's moon, a man shouts, "Crave! Watch out!" A thin older man comes out of the shadows, wearing two blue metal sabers. Nearly missing a black fireball and having rolled out of the way thanks to the warning, he stands and continues to run while shouting in return. "Thanks Jeffrey" the silver armored man says. "And stop calling me Crave my name is Dren Trimak!" He says in fake anger, not even able to hide a smile and laughter. "The day you stop craving so many raspberries you will get your name back" the older man shouts in return. Snickering in the process.
My Name is Dren Trimak, and I am captain of the Black Towers Rogue Asha'man Retrieval Force. Today I have received very disturbing news. My brother has lost control and betrayed the free world. He has killed two Emissaries. Melisandra Sedai of the Grey Tower's Blue Ajah. And the White Tower's Jessiel Sedai, of the Grey Ajah. He has also attempted to assassinate the Grey Tower's M'Hael, Nerad Asha'man. We are to eliminate him. Promptly. Efficiently.
Running through the dark forest, the men are occasionally illuminated by bolts of lightning. According to reports the Rogue is in the Andoran border town of Applewood. Although no one within a hundred miles would need a report to know this. Lightning, fireballs and earthquakes are simple enough signs. Hours ago, before nightfall, there would have been screams as well.
"Messahla any idea what he would be doing here?" Dren asks his informant officer. A woman who was once a member of a former Andoran noble's information network. "If I recall, there is some kind of ancient relic near here. A traveling device from before the age of breaking?"
"That's right, my father once spoke of such things while he worked at the Cairhien great library," Jeffrey says. "Although the exact location has never been found."
Walking up to the three older members of the squad a young man named Terse walks up and asks, "An ancient relic? Is it worth mu..." As the three look to the rash youth, they see him freeze and break apart in mid-sentence.
"Run People!" Dren says after the initial shock. Damn him! This kid was not even twenty winters old! "In town now!" He orders as he runs. His men unsheathing and unstrapping their weapons and shields.
The report says that my brother had developed a strange new talent right before he went mad. He could sense any and all channelers at any distance within a hundred feet. He could sense strength, distance and location. It seems that many have developed this new talent since the Black Tower has been established. Due to this, the need for this team was created. The Black Tower's Rogue Asha'man Retrieval Force was born.
"Sir, the scouts think they may have found him. He is crouched looking at the ground slightly north of town. It's a newly excavated site."
Nodding Dren orders "Archers and swordsmen stand ready!" As he gives orders, he straps a large shield to his arm. A Ter'Angreal created by the Grey Tower's Indigo Ajah, and then given to the Black Tower as a gift of peace. With a large emblem of the Fang and Flame on it, backed by two crossed swords. The M'Hael had given it to the squad's commander since the teams creation. Dren was only the second to wear it.
Soon after the Black Tower began bonding enemy Aes Sedai and the Grey Tower was established youths who wanted to fight for the light began getting assassinated on their way to the tower of their choice. It was an expert in traveling weaves that was doing the murders.
Promised by a Forsaken the title of Dreadlord if he did this, he killed many in the name of the shadow. That is until a Shienaran assassin snuck up and killed him. That was where the realization that those with the new talent only really saw those they felt. Those others were mere objects to them. They never really saw those who couldn't even learn to touch the power. Nor the knives that found their backs by them.
"Jeffrey pry that lock open, we need to pass through that gate!" Dren says in a frustrated voice. Angry and saddened over all the deaths, until the end of their lives the entire team will always see in their minds the body of dead girls and boys. Innocent Children and the wise elderly not even spared. Burned, shattered, torn apart. True nightmares come to reality. It is as if the Dark One personally touched this land. "How could you do this? You had such a kind heart Riven." He whispers to himself sadly.
"I got it sure," the old man says as the gate opens, loudly screeching. Looking at the commander he moves out of the way and waits for the next order, putting away his metal pry bar. "Then go and do your jobs men! Archers find high ground! Swordsmen and shield holders stand ready to march!" Dren orders loudly.
What the report never said was that he killed his wife and children. Shouting that they would not suffer when the world was destroyed. They stayed with him even while his body fell apart due to the madness. They were terrible years of sadness and loneliness for his family. They chose to move to a quiet farm in the Two Rivers so he could live the end in peace.
His mind survived for a long time, he even wrote many books on how to use the one power to create perfect crops. That is until the day when the Taint just disappeared. The Asha'man are still stumped to this day as to how it happened. In the morning when a great many woke up they felt as they say, clean. But many, like my brother, woke up shattered and lost. Luckily the Towers had measures to help with this.
But armies with hidden channelers truly suffered. The Cult of the One got totally obliterated by their chosen hero, the channeler Grohl, who had lived secretly for many years in the drowned lands practicing and mastering his dark arts. He had killed his followers in a shower of acid. Luckily for the tribes of the drowned lands he perished in his own creation.
"Its not here IT'S NOT HERE where could it be where is it this is unacceptable all records said it would be here they will die THEY WILL DIE!!!" The rotting channeler shouts madly. "Liars! All flaming liars!" Looking towards Dren and his team as they approach, he stares with his empty eye sockets he grins. A frightening sight, from someone who has no lips and nose.
Raising his hand while slightly moving his hand Dren shouts "Archers release!" Dear light let us end this before he kills us all!
As the volley of arrows fall find their mark they one by one catch on fire and turn to ash. Moments later the group of archers, each scattered on broken rooftops all catch on fire, and are but dust within seconds.
"Riven stop this before it is to late! I beg you, please brother!"
His pleads going to waste on the mad channeler, he then sees Riven weave multiple lightning bolts, killing most of the swordsmen. Facing Dren he then laughs and shoots a large ball of flame. Barely raising his shield in time he blocks the explosion, but still becomes airborne. Having lost his shield on impact he then lands several feet away in a small patch of grass.
When the first leader of the squadron died, he told me before his last breath the one weakness of this great shield. That yes, it will protect the wearer from nearly any weave, but not from the impacts and effects. You may be saved from lightning bolt but not from the ground it caused to erupt. He was saved from the blade of air sent to cut him down, but not from the tree that landed on him that was cut moments before.
Catching on fire Riven screams in rage, completely surprised. He never knew that this Ter'Angreal gave the weaver the direct effect of the weave it blocked. A moment though before he falls into a pile of ash he weaves in the air a small ball of fire. Even as he turns to ash the ball grows and grows. Until it is so large it releases a large loud explosion.
Flames touching everything, burning and melting all, Dren screams in pain as his hand touches a strange feeling stone once the flames have consumed all in sight though. There is a strange patch of ground clearly visible, a half-burned broken shield a few feet away. The Fang and Flame slightly charred, but visible.
After the flash of light, I began to dream. For what seemed a mere moment, but at the same time for long decades. I saw many strange things. A man of light and a dark shadow fighting to the death a near constant dream. Every single story ending at that final fight. Neither scoring a fatal hit, always minor scratches, a great many deflections after careful life saving deflections.
There were many lesser dreams as well. Where old friends of mine touch the power and lose their minds and souls. Where my father ran a powerful household protecting many valuable treasures, books and artifacts. Some dreams even contained my brother. Always breaking, losing, going mad, except for one dream. The one I had before waking to your mothers care nine months. I believe this world of light has a Riven that will not go mad. That will go on to fight for the light.
This, my unborn daughter is the changing point in my life, my last memories. Do with this book, as you will. Forgive me for I will not see you grow into a beautiful woman. The sickness is finally taking me. I ask you of only one thing when you are of age. Learn of this worlds house Trimak. Learn of the family this worlds Dren Trimak was raised from. Goodbye my dearest little angel. I know you are who you are because in one dream, I saw myself holding you.
From My Final Memories by Dren Trimak. Who died at the beginning of the Aiel Invasion of Cairhien.
