Difference between revisions of "Fanfic:Oaths and Memories (Sojin's Return)"

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Latest revision as of 00:50, 28 December 2021

Oaths and Memories (Sojin's Return)
Author(s)
  • Jack
Character(s)
Harp-icon.png This is a piece of fanfiction.
Only the original author(s) or Librarian(s) should make content changes to this page.




Sojin noticed everything as he looked at the spires of the Grey Tower and the tall buildings of Hama Vala from the ridge of the forested hill. They would be there in hours, he and his charge.

It looked different from what he remembered, more ... developed. But it had been years beyond counting since he had walked those streets ... those corridors.

The youthful face showed nothing, nor did the ageless azure eyes. The silver mare beneath him shifted slightly, as if impatient to get underway. Sojin patted the horse’s neck with a gloved hand and she settled. But he knew she could sense his unease.

Just as he could sense the unease of the young woman next to him, sitting awkwardly on a sorrel gelding. The woman was dressed in hunter greens and a deep green cloak, hooded. But her face peeked out, a youthful beauty with sharp green eyes and strands of red hair escaping the deep hood.

Sojin understood the apprehension, more for what awaited ahead than what had dogged them before. That she was Aiel would be obvious. Very few people on this side of the Aiel Waste held such features as she — green eyes, red hair and tanned face, as well as a deadly grace, even if she was new to riding.

The girl was special — or so the Reyn High Spire Wise Ones said — and he’d been tasked with securing her passage to the Grey Tower because he was an outlander. The sept clan chief had been clear — defend her at all costs, until they reached a small town in Andor, where an Asha’man and Aes Sedai would take over.

Only, that never happened. A months-long journey with a very sullen former Maiden transformed very much into danger that nearly threatened to unleash what he was. From the moment they arrived in the unnamed town, they found the entire population slaughtered, their contacts butchered and 10 attackers ... including a channeler ...

... and when all was said and done, he remembered very little other than finding himself next to the channeler’s body, his sword through her heart, and seven men dead around the pair ... and his charge pulling him into a ruined farmhouse.

After that, things grew awkward.

Sojin Majere could recall awkward moments, and happy ones. He knew who he was, but there were huge gaps. The son of a Tar Valon noblewoman and stepson of its armsmaster, a cavalryman who served in Band of the Red Hand, a Gaidin of the Grey Tower, and son of the High Seat of House Walker, an Asha’man of the Indigo Ajah,

He remembered vividly his training under Gaidin Sigmund and Gaidin Caden, his nights with Saphire Aes Sedai ... the loss they shared ...

He recalled being a leader in the Band, and the fall of Walker Manor in the southern Caralain Grass...

But other things were scattered.

He remembered being bonded to a Green Aes Sedai ... but he couldn’t recall her face. He couldn’t remember many of the moments of the time after he left the Tower, but he could remember his family’s faces, the wife he married, their daughter and son ... the initial defense ...

... everything else was scattered. His life after the attack ... he could remember being older than the face staring back at him, could remember slowing slightly with age but being more lethal than he was now with a sword. Remembered freezing snows, howling wind and the scorching sun beating down on a cowl-covered head, chapped lips and parched mouth.

The most coherent memories beyond his youth and initial stay in the Tower were those of the last seven years. Seven years, sharp a Power-forged blade.

They had found him — a group of seven weathered men dressed in sand-colored garb and black veils with broad-headed short spears pointed at his neck — in the center of several dark-dressed bodies, including those of an elegantly dressed man and woman.

Three of the Aiel had been beaten to the ground before someone did the kind mercy of knocking him out cold from behind.

The next seven years became a whirlwind, first as a prisoner among the Reyn who captured him and then eventually let go. He was never left in the dark about the fact that nothing pointed to his identity. It took years even to piece together the fragments he had now.

The next seven years were spent in the Wastes, at first a reluctant guest among the Reyn of the High Spire sept and eventually on his own. Respect was easily earned from the Aiel the moment he displayed a skill for survival and how to adapt to the harsh environments, locate water and food.

Respect for his fighting skills, as well as some disdain for the weapon he used. The blade, a slender double-edged blade called a jian, was as natural in his hands as breathing.

Four Shaido Aiel patrolling near Goshien territory spotted him alone one night, camping one in a small abandoned hold, and perceived him as easy prey. It was the first time Sojin Majere ever remembered losing his sense of surroundings since the Reyn had found him.

All he recalled was after ... three Aiel were dead, their blood dripping from the slender blade clutched in one hand ... and clutching his spear as if it were a talisman but unable to stand because of a throwing knife sticking from his leg. Sojin himself had sustained wounds, but not nearly so badly as he couldn’t treat them himself.

Sojin had knocked the Aiel out because the man was so startled and jittery to refuse being fixed up. The man had only regained consciousness moments before a Goshien patrol had found them ... and the Shaido made to serve for a year and day.

All that was ever said of those moments was that Sojin had become a man possessed, or a Warder whose bond had snapped, a frenzy of blood that did not stop.

It happened with increasing frequency, when he was cornered or when his life was threatened ... or when someone in his charge was threatened. Twice he traveled near the northern ends of the Threefold Land, and both times he met scouting parties of very bold Trolloc fists, once on his own, and once escorting a small Tinker band.

Both times, he lost all sense and when he regained it, he was splattered in blood and the small band of Shadowspawn dead. The second time ... the Tuatha’an were all too glad to leave the crazed madman the second they caught glimpse of Ankor Dali’s walls.

The Aiel, whether it was the Goshien, the Reyn, Shaido or Nakai or any other clan he met, came to know him as Sien Seiera in the Old Tongue. Blue-eyed Demon.

In seven years, he learned it was better to live alone, in one of the few abandoned holds with decent water, away from others. And be on the move. The Reyn and Goshien welcomed him, some fool Shaido would occasionally seek to earn honor and a name by trying to slay his clan’s perceived enemy and ... the other clans either greeted him with wary respect or avoided him.

Seven years, he never thought to leave back for Hama Valon, the Grey Tower or even for the wetlands in general. The Blasted Land was his home ... it could offer him a peace away from the scattered memories ...

... until some bloody fool of a crow Wise One yanked him by the ear before the High Spire sept chief and three other Wise Ones — ones who could actually channel — and demanded the sept chief ask a favor of the wetlander for all the hospitality shown to him over the years. Take an apprentice from harm and deliver her to a place of safety.

To Hama Valon. To the Grey Tower ...

... and that’s how he was now stuck in this predicament. Since that unnamed village in Andor, they had been on the run.

And even the young Aiel did not understand why. Twice, Sojin had to carve through groups of half-trained brutes who reeked of greed. Another time, he snapped into a demonish state and it took the Aiel girl’s blunt plea to snap him back to reality.

Another time, 10 men had fallen upon them ... some trained soldiers ... and most were dead by his hand and he had to be Healed by an inexperienced apprentice channeler who thankfully managed to leave him whole.

And then beat him hard with a stick for foolish risks.

And now he was looking at the spires of Hama Valon ... and the forests and field between the walled city and them.

Ultimately the pair descended the hill into the woods, both silent as death. But something caused his neck hairs to stand up ... he’d been this way before ... with a young red-haired lass who stirred fatherly memories ...

He reached for the small bow and quiver at his saddle and quickly passed them over to the Aiel woman. She looked at him with a mix of surprise and wariness.

“Sojin Majere, I don’t know how to use this on this blasted ...”

“Learn,” he hissed. His sapphire eyes landed briefly on the girl. “You’re Daes Dae'mar in your bones, or have you grown soft since coming to greener lands?”

The girl’s green eyes narrowed beneath the hood, flashing with anger. Sojin smiled grimly. “Good, now use it.”

The words were all too soon warranted as he heard the first footfalls in the forested areas. Neither Tower Guard nor Warders patrolled so far from Hama Valon.

If she rode her horse, she could make it halfway ... if she channeled ... Light forbid that there was not at least one Aes Sedai traveling in the area ... there always was ...

He nudged his horse back briefly, drew his sword ... and slapped the rear of the Aiel’s horse with the flat of his blade ... and the beast galloped forward.

She managed to escape the first envelope of brigands with shortswords ... and while all eyes were on the apparent fleeing prize, the silver-haired soldier blazed past, cutting down a man on either side in the process.

His horse was faster than the Aiel girl’s, he made sure of that. The mare was sturdy, bought from some Andoran who knew Borderlander stock. Whatever memories still existed of his time before, it was being a cavalryman.

He heard a cry ... a shout as a horse went down ... he knew that sound well ... and he turned his mare about to see the Aiel girl on her knees, stunned but uninjured. Her horse was dead, arrows through its neck.

It was a matter of seconds before he was by her side. He dismounted and before she could protest, she was in the saddle. He unhooked an unusual spear-like weapon, a fox emblem engraved into the long blade, from a holder and pressed it into her hand.

“Ride until you hit the forest edge and then channel. Channel anything, but make it big, as much as you think possible burning yourself out,” he said. He reached into a cloak pocket and then roughly pried one of her fingers from the gripped weapon and shoved a ring onto it.

It was a signet ring, a silver fox curled around an amethyst stone. The only other item found on him other than his sword and the spear the girl now held. “Find someone ... find Balen Ashe or Zae of the Indigo ... find Lysira Gaidin ...”

A name stuck out. “Find Natlya Cade ... tell them to find me here ...“

And then he slapped the mare’s rear so hard that she bolted forward ... just as five men came out.

Five minutes ... that’s all that was needed for his mare to carry the Aiel girl to the plains beyond the forest. Only Seanchan and Whitecloaks were ever brave enough to venture beyond the woods ...

“Where’s the Aiel girl, I always wanted a taste ...”

Whatever common sense Sojin Majere fled the moment he heard those words ... and ...

... bloodlust filled him, the desire to kill, the desire to feel a man’s life fade away ...

Four men were dead, the fifth dying, blood-covered Sojin Majere, and his blade dripping with it ... And he turned to find 10 ... 15 ...

... a bolt grazed his side as he cut down the first two that tried to attack him. One nearly lost a head and Sojin was oblivious to the fact that the body flopped briefly before going still.

He could hear the swearing, the sound of the winch on the crossbow and immediately hurled his sword ... ending the crossbowman’s life. He picked up a fallen, albeit poorly made blade, and quickly dispatched two more guards, but without sustaining a slight jab to the leg ....

Only blood called ... that and the deeper desire to keep his charge safe ... but the inner demons called. It swarmed over him like darkness over light and it was consuming him ...

Twenty more men swarmed from the forests as he cut down one man and a second ... he felt his body weakening but the rage pushed him on ... his charge ....

Lightning fell from the sky ... unnatural given the otherwise clear night sky and in such precision.

It struck near the men, never on them. But it was enough to startle them ... Sojin cut down three more ... and then there was a whirl of bodies around and in front of him ... four men, two women ...

More men funneled from the forest toward ....

Lightning fell twice more ... and an enemy tried a backstabbing over one of the defenders directly in front of Sojin ...

His sword found the right place to slice into the back of his neck ... and in a final act of mercy sliced down to end his life.

And he felt a sharp sensation ... and a piece of metal sticking out his side .... he fell even as a flash of fire seemed to erupt behind him.

His sword fell from his hand as his body hit the earth ... he looked up and saw a blurred woman’s face in a blue-fringed cowl, her ageless face filled with worry lines for a woman so young ....

.... and the pain hit him ... a dozen sword wounds, an arrow in a place he should not have survived ...

... and then he felt something else — a sudden chill overcame his body, a feeling he was vaguely familiar with from scattered memories of long ago ...

....and then darkness.

---

Sojin found himself staring from a walkway above the Warder training grounds, where Gaidin taught trainees everything they would need to should the day come to defend an Asha’man or Aes Sedai.

Memories flashed in his mind, disjointed but still clear, of a scar-faced man who taught him everything he didn’t already know with a sword. Testing his mettle, testing his knowledge of the blade, testing him.

Caden Ives he thought. The name sang in his ears much like anything else he remembered from his old life. Before his apparent thrust back in his years. He remembered a practical man who was brutal ... in everything except his affection. Sojin could only remember he respected the man beyond everything else ... and nothing else.

Below, he saw a red-haired girl fidgeting in a white gown with a rainbow lining around its hem. The Aiel girl he had escorted. She looked eager to join the training rather than watching and Sojin couldn’t blame her.

“She’ll be Green Ajah yet,” he muttered, almost unbidden. He raked one hand through short silver hair, irritated by that knowledge. He knew everything about this place, about the Ajahs, and even grinned when he saw a Brother or Sister of the Red Ajah walk the halls.

But it vexed him about not knowing why he knew. Sojin knew he was born to one of Tar Valon’s most influential families, knew that the Red Ajah favored his family ... knew he had a brother, but could not place that man’s face, or that of his nieces or nephews.

“She might, but her heart sings more toward wanting to do the right thing, and curiosity about this world,” a crisp, sound voice said. Sojin looked to his left and found a small, youngish woman with dark hair and a simple, if elegant violet dress standing next to him. She was slender, pale of skin but with interesting gray eyes looking down at the Aiel girl.

“Aes Sedai,” he murmured. “Would you have her join the Indigo Ajah? Or the Blue? That girl was born to ...”

The woman looked at him. A simple look, no sharpness in her eyes, but the look was enough to hold his tongue. Light, but he had been too long among the Aiel. And all he thought about now was returnng to the desert. He would need but one channeler to provide a Gateway, even as far as the Spine of the World.

To be back in that desert, away from the crowds ... away from old memories that flitted and danced just out of his grasp.

“Ladrya Sedai, of the Blue Ajah,” she said with an inclined head. “I hear you’ve requested leave of this place soon, Master Gaidin.”

Sojin snorted at the title, almost as if on instinct. The Aes Sedai raised an eyebrow, as if in humor or curiosity.

“I am no Warder,” the silver-haired man said. His eyes went back down to the training yards. “Those days are behind me, as is my fancloak. It burned with Walker Manor the day it fell.”

“Yet you fought like a man possessed to keep a channeler from dying,” she said as matter of factly. “Not many men or women would do that, especially these days. Most would have let her die.”

Sojin shook his head. “I gave my word to some prickly Wise Ones and a sept chief whom I respect and call friend,” he said. “I swore I would give her my last drop of water if it was required to see her one step closer to these halls. And besides, if I had just dediced to flee, I think those Wise Ones would hunt me down, string my guts and skin my hide with their bare hands.”

“They said you were stubborn, even by Anodran standards, quick-tempered and prone to irrational decisions,” the Aes Sedai said. “Unfortunately, they also said you were unfailingly modest and some question whether it’s false humility. I can see one of those two statements are accurate.”

Sojin looked sideways at the woman. “I’m just a simple man who needs nothing more than water and shade and a good whetstone to sharpen his blade,” he murmured. He gestured to the Warder Yards. “The days of serving this Tower’s politics are behind me, as my days dancing to the tune that is Daes Da’mar. My place lies in the expanses of the Three-fold Land and the simplicity it brings.”

“And you think Aiel don’t have politics of their own,” the Aes Sedai chortled. He smirked and countered. “At least it’s an honest game that I can meet with a sword tip instead of having to slash with words and wonder if someone slipped something into my wine or food or a knife between my ribs. Or worry about a ninth, clouded Ajah trying to use me as a pawn against flaming bloody channelers I knew.”

This time it was the Aes Sedai’s eyes that grew hard and cold. No one liked to mention the Black Ajah, even if it was only allusion and nothing more.

“The en’Damiers are gone, Master Gaidin, and so too soon will a certain Indigo,” she said sharply. “And there are those who would wonder about your ... appearance, after so long away. Younger than when you left, fit for a man who should be nearly twice his age know ... the Browns and Yellows and Indigos might all want to take a stab at you ...”

He looked at her, a cool, calm level stare. “They can poke and prod all they want, but the last time something like that occurred, there were some very unpleasant sounds coming from some of the Aiel,” he said. “And as I am no longer bound to anyone, I can leave these Yards as I please. Not even the Gaidin Captain could command me to stay, let alone the Warder Council itself.”

The Aes Sedai cocked her head, much like an owl, and pursed her lips. “You would abandon the vows you swore upon earning the fancloak, abdandon the place that provided you training beyond compare?”

“Aes Sedai,” he murmured, taking one last look at the Aiel girl and the training yards before turning. He cast one look at the channeler. “My oaths were absolved the day I was released from a bond by a woman I loved so I could return to a place I loathed and marry a woman I did not know because the Great Game of Houses demanded it so.”

“And what of your oath to the girl, Sojin Majere?” the Aes Sedai’s voice followed. “She may be here in the Grey Tower, but how long before someone takes notice? As you said, most fully raised Brothers and Sisters have their own agendas. How long before she becomes another pawn ...”

Sojin stopped, her words suddenly weighing down on him. How long would an Aiel last if she were swept up in channelers’ scheming? He was no master of the Game, but he knew enough that he could teach her to stay clear. Even a rusty weapon had its edges.

“A month, and then I ride for the Spine,” he said. He looked over his shoulder to see a calm Aes Sedai looking back at him. "A month."