Fanfic:The Ring of the Fang

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The Ring of the Fang
Author(s)
  • Alexandra
  • Eric Robins
  • George Prochaska
Character(s)
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Only the original author(s) or Librarian(s) should make content changes to this page.




Aric was walking up the stairwells of the Tower once more towards the offices of Amora en'Damier. However this time his purpose was different, and slightly more pleasant. He was to deliver an object that the Amyrlin had asked for, and even though he was technically the person to get this kind of thing from, he was still honored that she had asked him.

He arrived at the top floor of the Tower and was announced be the keeper. "As you have summoned me Mother, so do I come." With that he set down the polished redwood box he had under his arm and walked around her desk to bow and kiss her ring.

After their previous conversation, which had gone awry and then gone right again, she had asked him to retrieve from the Great Holding in Tear an object of Power that her Eyes and Ears had recently located. The problem had been in the retrieving of the item.

"Greetings Mother. After I left your offices after we last spoke it took me awhile to find a way to get the object you requested. I Traveled to Tear and disguised myself as a Guardian of the Stone, unfortunately I found the Holding Warded with many complex and intricate weaves of both saidin, and after testing for resonance, saidar. I had to use a ter'angreal from the Vaults to enter tel'aran'rhiod so I could see what the Holding looked like so I could Travel in directly." Aric mentally shuddered at the memory. He had almost Travelled straight into the Wards around the Holding which, needless to say, would have been unpleasant.

"It took me a while to find it but I managed to find what you asked for." With that he picked up the box and opened it to reveal the item in question. Within lay a sa'angreal of moderate strength, and a sa'angreal of moderate strength was bloody strong. It consisted of a gold ring with a jet black stone in the shape of the Fang. That stone itself was the sa'angreal and was raised so that the ring could be used as a Seal. The ring and the enameled colors of the seven Ajahs swirling out from the center had been added by a goldsmith from Elman's Creek that Aric had hired.

"I hope it lives up to your expectations Mother."


Amora's gaze turned from the First Seeker to the rosewood box and what lay exposed inside.

Amora smiled faintly. It was a rare expression.

She plucked up the ring between two delicate fingertips. Against the candle light she held it and examined the details as an artist would. It glinted brightly, and the colors shown true. Her attentive eyes traced each curve, each line. Satisfied, she turning back and replaced it in the box.

"You have a good eye, my son," she meant, of course, that the new ring perfectly matched her own: the Ring of the Flame, "and skill for retrieving what is difficult to retrieve. I would almost call it a talent."

The Amyrlin Seat received the box and set it aside. "You have done well, my son. And I shall not forget it."

He was proving himself to be not only a trustworthy son, but also, one who could get things done. Yes, she would take note of that indeed.


Aric knew little of the game, but he knew that a smile from such a Master as Amora meant a lot. And the compliments were incredibly flattering as well coming from her.

"Thank you Mother, you flatter me too greatly. It was truly nothing. And now unless there was anything you wished to discuss I ask leave to return to some urgent paperwork."

"Walk in the Light my Son."

"Thank you Mother." With that Aric bowed again and left her office. He did not worry about the situation regarding the Vaults, he had 'accidentally' forgotten to file the appropriate papers registering the sa'angreal. Only he and any future First Seekers would know of it's existence. And the papers on the sa'angreal in the Mother's ring had been conveniently misplaced as well.

He walked down through the Halls whistling a merry tune. He loved being First Seeker.


Daimenin strode calmly into the Amyrlin's office. Now having his own Keeper, he had begun to understand just how important their roles truly were. Chyane said not a word to announce his arrival, she simply closed the door behind him silently. At once Daimenin noted a candle on the Amyrlin's desk with a matching upside down, black flame. No doubt most people would not even notice the flam was any different than any other candle before it turned back right side up. An interesting use of matching ter'angreal he thought idly as he surveyed the office's interior. He would definitely have to get Durent and himself one of those sets of matching candles like these two had. With their equally weak ability in Earth, and a converse proficiency with both Air and Fire, the M'Hael and his Keeper would be well suited to manipulating the flames of their own candle set.

The interior of the Amyrlin's office was as he remembered it, warm, inviting, calming. Not at all like his own office had been, but Daimenin was working his own personality into the cold stark offices of the M'Hael. Already his tree ter'angreal littered the shelves about the room and his own furniture was far more friendly than Darian's had been. Turning his attention to this office, the big man noticed at once that Sigmund Gaidin was not present as he had been before during his previous meeting with Amora. She stood with her back to the room, warming her tiny hands by the fireplace. No doubt their little signaling devices were meant to be overlooked by visitors and thus add to the illusion of the power of the Flame and her Keeper. Very well, Daimenin was accomplished enough as a Master of Daes Dae'mar to notice it without commenting, but he would begin development on a similar linking pair for his own just the same. Suddenly Daimenin wondered if they were even noted in the ter'angreal lists that the Indigo kept. Being a previous First Seeker himself, Daimenin was slightly upset, though not very shocked to learn exactly the extent to which both the offices of M'Hael and of the Amyrlin had over the years garnered quite a few unlisted ter'angreal. But being able to make them himself, Daimenin could understand the draw to holding on to one's creations.

Mother?

He had almost responded with the traditional forms before remembering that he was now the M'Hael. Since she no longer held rank over him, and they now stood as equal parts to the same whole, Daimenin was unsure what those proper forms were. He had been given access to the Secret Libraries and the 13th Depository upon his raising, but it was a tremendous amount of information to sort through. He settled for a simple greeting instead. This was after all not an official meeting in any event and Daimenin was rather informal around most people when there was no need to be otherwise.

I am pleased to have received your invitation.

He stood then at ease, hands behind his huge back, calmly awaiting the short andoran woman's reply.


Amora continued warming her hands before the large marble fireplace as Daimenin took in the whole of her study. This pause afforded him the comfortable time to study what most could not when meeting her. In the Game, this move was akin to laying her cards in his plain view. She hid nothing.

When he addressed her, however, Amora turned to welcome him with open hands. Today her gown was a rich palatinate - a violet that one could almost, but not quite, mistake as blue. Delicate silver pearls were sewn to shape the Flame along the hems next to thin silver roping in a thinner but mirrored style to the Ajah cord. The Amyrlin Seat wore symbols with purpose, and this was rich with both.

"Most trusted Father, I greet you well. It gladdens my heart that you accepted my invitation." Even her expression was relaxed behind these closed doors. She approached, and paused, "I welcome your arrival, in more ways than one."

Her gaze lingered then on the candle that sat perched on her desk. "I see that you appreciate the devices I most recently wrought." In an instant, it was out. A signal to Chyane that she was retiring for the night and the Keeper's services would no longer be needed. "They have not yet been registered in the Vaults," she said, and looked back to him, "yet they are indeed useful for ones in our stations. Would Father enjoy a pair of his own to share with his Keeper?"


Daimenin suppressed a nod, how had she noticed his glance with her back turned, he wondered. Even the greatest players of the Game could make mistakes, but Daimenin was certain that he hadn't allowed his study of the candle to be seen after she had turned to face him. No matter, it could all be sorted out in due time. The new M'Hael was never one to hide something from anyone just for the purpose of hiding it.

Thank you, Mother. I would indeed enjoy a set of those.

With a smile he didn't elaborate fully on just how he would enjoy them. In truth, studying them might help him to uncover a means to creating much more useful communication devices for the whole Tower, ter'angreal that would allow instantaneous communication across greater distances. He had toyed with the idea of something along the lines of his signet ring, but that may be too hard to elaborate on. Then the idea of using gateways came to him. Again the difficulties of creating such ter'angreal were paramount. He would have to study exactly how the two ter'angreal were connected, and perhaps he could finally come up with something more workable then he had so far.

I have been looking forward to it, our first dinner since I became M'Hael. Much has happened since last we dined together. Perhaps we can discuss each other's works more now that we are such close neighbors, time permitting of course.

That last could be taken many ways, which was what he had intended. He wanted her to know not only that he was willing to share with her, but also that he would want to learn from her as well.


She stood a little farther from him than she would have from another. Amora did not want him to tower over her, nor would it do for her to crane her neck. Perhaps more important was the custom that none stand too near the Mother or Father. They each deserved a wide berth. And she was not so rude as to tresspass into his newly enlarged personal space.

Amora was amused by the vagueness of his reply concerning her 'ter'angreal'. Pruple, it seemed, was still a brighter color in his stole than all the others. He was, it seemed, open to other fashion's of enjoyment from them beyond the bounds in which they were offered. Perhaps he did not trust her enough yet to make his intentions known, for she would have gladly joined forces on a project to expand their use. But trust would come in time. This sign meant that he would most appreciate what she had in store for him.

"Is that so?" She allowed her eyebrows to raise slightly with interest. If he was willing to be more open, then she would encourage it. "For I am committed to present a united front, like a Mother and Father together, before the entierty of the family. Unity requires shared counsel. I anticipate well learning the changes of which you speak, as well as sharing with you what has remained unspoken and sealed to the Flame and Fang."

She gestured oppenly, the long draping fabric of her sleeves shimmered in the faint blue torchlight. "Would Father prefer canapes and wine to refresh the pallet, or to continue on and dine?" The tone she read from his unspoken words betrayed a certain eagerness, but she would not rush him either. Amora would be a good and attentive hostess.


The M'Hael continued to offer his warm smile as she spoke. He noted her intrigue at his mention of collaboration between the two of them. As she spoke of sharing unspoken words Daimenin suddenly realized what he had to offer her by way of their new found collusion.

"Wine sounds delightful, Mother. And while we drink I could perhaps share with you the untold account of my travels to the East?"

Daimenin took the offered glass of wine and gave the glass a slow quiet sniff. Andoran Red. Not the worst of wines, though he was no connoisseur. The Ghealdanin man had always been more of a fan of weaker drinks, Tea being his favorite of course. He sipped it, waiting calmly for her response to his offer.


It was a willful gesture, not a slip, in the slight tilt of her head, like an owl turning to a new sound in the night. "Curious." she replied, and accepted the crystal goblet offered her by Narisa, a well-trained servant. Whether she meant that she was curious, or it was a curious statement, it could not be said. Last they had spoken this intimately, he had been most reticent to reveal anything of substance from his travels.

"I would be delighted, Father." that was quite an understatement.

Amora gestured to the door that led into her apartments. "I would invite you to join me in my sitting room. I would be a poor hostess if I did not offer you a seat, for this could be no brief tale to tell." She would not insult him by making him stand, not the M'Hael, and certainly not when they were building the foundations of an alliance.


An interesting way of stating her feelings. It seemed that despite their mutual, if unspoken, agreement to not play Da'es Daemar tonight, neither of them could escape it's trappings entirely. Even master's it seemed could not simply put aside the Game at will.

"Not brief indeed, but worth the telling I assure you."

With a nod, Daimenin followed her into the sitting room. These apartments were very similar to his own, only they had the feel of a woman's place, no doubt due to the fact that she was one. Daimenin took his seat only after she ahd taken hers. They may be equals but Daimenin's chivalry would not allow him to allow a woman to stand while he casually took his own seat. After sitting back in the comfortable armchair and taking another sip of his wine, the M'Hael prepared to tell his story but paused suddenly considering the servant girl who had obediently followed them into the room. Just doing her job but no one deserved the telling of this tale aside from the Amyrlin Seat, not even her most trusted servant...

Silently, he waited for Amora to dismiss her before he told her his story in full, taking another sip from his wine glass.


Amora noted that there were only three reasons why Daimenin would wait for her to excuse her staff. The first was that he was less than comfortable with her use of wards alone, which would have prevented any servant from hearing what they should not hear. She remembered this from their last meeting, and perhaps it was his habit to banish all from his presence when speaking of confidential matters. The second possibility was that what he had to reveal could be learned through gestures and facial expressions. The third was that he was testing her, seeing how far she would make accommodations for him.

None of these speculations changed her decision. "That will be all, for now, Narisa." Amora said with only a flickering glance to the servant. "I will summon you when you are needed again."


Daimenin took a long sip of his wine as he began the story. Of course Amora could simply have warded them, but even then he could not get used to relying so fully on the One Power. Daimenin as a former First Seeker and now as M'Hael, knew far too well just how many terrible events could have been forestalled if only people didn't become complacent in their reliance on the use of saidin and saidar.

No doubt Amora would think that he didn't trust her to guard their conversation well enough, or that he wished to test her willingness to oblige him. Perhaps in time she would come to learn that Daimenin didn't use Da'es Daemar that way. True, he had learned the tricks to the Game as a way to manipulate people, but he had become a Master by using the knowledge as a way to read how people tried to manipulate him instead. His true genius involved using the skill to read others, not control them.

"I began my journey shortly after High Chasaline. A few days before the holiday, my secretary Morrielle had turned up missing. All I found was a note outlining his intentions to return to his homeland of Shara and care for his dying father."

As he spoke, Daimenin sipped his wine and stared into the fire. Continuing his speech without the need to pause for a drink.

"I decided to take the opportunity to follow him and to learn some of what truth lay beyond the Wastes. Of course, in retrospect I should have known that it would not be as easy as I had thought. I, who have taught countless others in the dangers of foolishly leaping where one should tread very lightly...I walked right into the waiting arms of the Ayyad.

Their leader, a woman called Mishiel, became my captor as I spent months in hospitable imprisonment at the palaces of the Sh'botay. Ostensibly to serve as a guest to Mishiel and to tell her of the ways of our lands, but the true purpose no one save she or I knew was to train the Sh'botay how to channel so that he would not die and break their supposedly unbroken line of succession."

When I finally told Mishiel that the man would not die from the harm of channeling she agreed to allow me to return to the West on the condition that I swear myself to silence on an oath rod. Seeing this as my only way to escape them I did as I was instructed and left that day. It would take soem time to tell you all that I learned while with the Ayyad. Perhaps over the meal?"

Daimenin suddenly felt he had been rambling on. Of course she wanted to hear the story, but he still couldn't help feeling as if he was talking too long already and that they could both do with a break, if only a minute or two, from his story


Amora listened with interest as Daimenin recounted his travels, and she let that interest show. He spoke easily and without hesitation, no doubt a sign of his trust. Perhaps she had been too quick to think that he did not trust her yet. Not that she would have blamed him. Only family let their guard down around her, and she chose most carefully who to allow into her inner circle. Her life depended on it, as did the success of her cause.

In this case, he seemed as open and willing as she to form a solid foundation for a working relationship. And it pleased her considerably, given what she intended to give him this evening. She had heard whispers of the Ayyad and Sh'botay, but precious little detail. This certainly was an extraordinary exchange. From what she gathered, the Sh'botay was like a king, and saving his life restored Daimenin's.

"As you wish." was her reply. The wards dropped around them like gauze drifting to the ground in folds. "Narissa, we are ready now." she called.

Moments later they were seated at a fine spread fit for royalty. Although the conversation was casual, the atmosphere was designed to honor him. The menu included a choice of a passion fruit pavlova or a salad of vivid green salad with mange tout, sugar snap peas, fine green beans and cucumber dressed with lime and coriander. The main course a braised lamb with oranges and ginger or a choice of chicken with shallots, tarragon, sherry vinegar and creme fraiche. There were, of course, soups and canapes available as desired. All carefully prepared under watchful eyes under strict orders. Orders given with extreme care after she had been poisoned during the last White Tower delegation.

"It occurs to me that you are sworn to secrecy." Finally she knew it was an oath and not a choice or physical impairment that bound him from speaking of Shara, or anything else for that matter. "Yet you credit your former Ajah with cleverness. For you tell me, and yet do not," there was a knowing smile there, "of Shara. You speak in silence." If he had found a way around that oath, was he still bound to the other? His first?


With a smile, Daimenin casually placed a piece of lamb in his mouth. Quite a feast for such a small dinner. The M'Hael had never been one for opulence, but he was beginning to come around to the benefits of dining with Amora en'Damier. It occurred to him that her smile indicated an unspoken question. She questioned whether he was still held by his oaths to the Tower, specifically the first, "To speak no word that is untrue." Truth be told, he had never even considered that the ring might allow him to sidestep his other oaths. Even before he had sworn the oaths, Daimenin had always been an honest man. Telling lies was anathema to him long before it was bound into his bones at his raising.

"A simple matter, Mother. Not as sinister as it may appear. The oath Mishiel bade me to swear, it commanded that I never speak again, and that I never put into writing what transpired during my time of captivity. The woman never considered the possibility that we could make a ter'angreal for me to convey the story through some other means?"

After sipping of his wine while he spoke, the M'Hael reached over and plucked up a piece of the chicken and slipped it into his mouth and chewed as he considered the possibilities. What if he weren't bound by the first oath any longer? It would make little difference to him, but who would believe him if they considered it even possible? How many others had already come to the same question of him as Amora just had? Would she condemn him if she knew of his doubts? Would she help him if he asked her guidance? The questions came one atop the other. Trying to wash them away, he took a large gulp of his wine, suddenly he was even unwilling to trust himself. Light how could this woman always get him so hungry so fast, and then make him want to forget all about food in the very next breath?


The interest with which she noted how he was able to speak while eating was surpassed only by the quality of his answer. So he thought that she believed ill of him? Nay. "A mere curiosity. It was a thought that occurred to me when I aided the construction of that artifact." Her emerald eyes flickered upward, plainly showing her sincerity, "I value your candidness. If you think well enough of me, Father, not to suppose that I shall take unfair advantage, you are right. Under the Light, I shall not. I stand by your side."

Her glance flickered down again as she severed her meal into polite pieces. When they had dined, she would prove her trust unbidden. But for now . . "Under the Light, I shall be equally forthright. If there is any matter you wish unveiled, it shall be made open to you." He could read her like an open book, if he so wished.


Light, how many men and women among those living and dead would have killed to hear those words. How ironic that none of them ever would. How ironic that the only man to whom she would willingly lay bare her secrets to was the only one who had no questions to ask of her.

"I can think of nothing that I can ask, Mother. Although, perhaps you would permit me more of your time in the development of another ter'angreal I have been working on designing. Actually it's a pair of twins that work similarly to your candles, I confess. Though with a decided adaptation to include a weave similar to my ring."

Even using the ter'angreal, Daimenin's voice took on that particular edge that only an Indigo could when discussing ter'angreal development. Even if Daimenin's work had always centered around the Talents, he had always had some knowledge and technique in ter'angreal as well. As he finished he took a long sip of his wine to help him settle himself.

"If we are successful, we may be able to communicate over great distances instantaneously!"


Amora leaned in slightly upon hearing these words. On matters of objects of power, he would always find a coconspirator in her. Not only did the purpose of such a pair of devices fuel her interest, but the project promised relief and respite from the burden of governance. She wet her palette with wine over the remains of her braised lamb and oranges, the passion fruit pavola had already been cleared from the table. The expression she gave was thoughtful and contemplative both, and then she pushed the plate away.

"A most worthy venture, I agree." she conceded. It might have been a statement of great enthusiasm coming from her. As Narisa approached she waved off the supping plates both and indicated that it was time for desert, both kinds.

"Let us embark on it post haste." Narisa returned bearing hazelnut meringue with raspberries and cream for the both of them. This time, she did not receded into the background immediately. "There is another matter that may interest you, Father, if I am bold enough to assume." She barely regarded the servant as the little red cherry-wood box was placed in her hand. It was carved and gilded in a western Andorean fashion, with a braid of thin gold along the seams. "A matter of a gift, a gift worthy of the M'Hael of the Grey Tower."


As the serving woman brought out two trays of raspberries and cream on top of some kind of meringue, Daimenin listened to the Mother's words as he noted that the woman still stood beside her holding a beautiful little gilded box carved of red cherry-wood. She of course knew that the darker red woods were his favorite.

"You do me too much honor, Mother. Any gift from the Flame could not help but to be worthy."

He smiled. With his walls of composure down, the Asha'man allowed a smile of pleasure to show her how much the gift meant to him. So much so because it came from her, even were it not a beautiful piece of work. Daimenin had come to the Tower even after Amora had been Aes Sedai for decades. Despite his age among Tower inhabitants, she alone was elder. Not to mention she had held the Flame Staff for some time now, and the woman was considerably stronger then he in the Power. Most around the Grey Tower did not pay attention to strength in the One Power as much as in the White and Black, but Daimenin for reasons of his own route of studies always kept record of such things.

Daimenin made a note to have Abram find out the Master carpenter who had created the box, for there was no doubt in his trained eye that this was the work of a Master. He would be given a gift from the Grey Tower to show the pleasure of the M'Hael for such craftsmanship. A century ago, a young Ghealdanin carpenter may have competed with the man's great grandfather for work if circumstances had not drawn the boy down another path. He sat regarding the box as Amora received it from her servant and took a spoonful of his meringue with delight. Hazelnut, his favorite.


Amora returned the smile. She thought, perhaps his expression of pleasure was a higher compliment than his words were. And this was only the box. How would he receive the gift itself? What a delightful surprise it would be.

"Father is too kind; he praises the wrapping before appraising the gift." she slid the little box across the table, leaving it there for him. Open it.

After a pause, when he had seen it, she explained.

"It is a twin of my own Ring of the Flame. The First Seeker can confirm that it is a moderately powerful 'sa'angreal'. Mine has been handed down from Mother to Mother since the founding of the Tower." Indeed, it had been taken from the body of Nevelyn Co'rel's body just after the Breaking, and from Harmony Kiaranya Kianor when she had been poisoned. IT was really only by chance that Joaynna al'Jay Daleb had not worn it the day she had slipped into a portal 'ter'angreal' to save a wayward novice and vanished. Other transitions had been less grim, such as when Ceralyn Havana A'Delin, and Lelianna Lisette Damodred had stepped down and removed the stole. The Flame 'sa'angreal' had a long and proud history. The Fang's was about to begin.

"Yours was much more difficult to come by." Amora smiled vaguely and took a bite of her meringue, relishing the taste, and his reaction both.


Open it.

Daimenin reached out and took hold of the box, pulling it to him silently, almost reverently. As he opened it he noted also the craftsmanship of the hinges. The heavy lid lifted seamlessly from the base without sound, making a smooth arc to stand nearly upright, revealing the tiny item inside of the box. Laying pristinely on the soft velvet lining of the box was a ring in the shape of the Dragon's Fang.

"It is a twin of my own Ring of the Flame. The First Seeker can confirm that it is a moderately powerful sa'angreal. Mine has been handed down from Mother to Mother since the founding of the Tower. Yours was much more difficult to come by."

Without question, The M'Hael could feel the strength of the sa'angreal as soon as he picked it up. He would not test it here before her, and he had no innate ability with power-wrought objects, but his years of working with ter'angreal had taught him to recognize certain aspects of an object of the power. He would not need to consult the First Seeker to confirm her statements. Besides which, even if she were not bound to speak to him the truth, Amora had his trust.

As he raised his emerald gaze to meet hers, Daimenin smiled warmly contrasting her vague grin. He had read the secret histories and he remembered a mention of the Amyrlin's ring and how it had been passed down. He could not even begin to imagine how this could have been more difficult to come by.

"I thank you, Mother." No doubt Aric had been instructed to keep this particular sa'angreal out of the listings, as was the Amyrlin's own.

"I shall treasure it so long as I have leave to serve."