Fanfic:To Make, to Prove, to Punish

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To Make, to Prove, to Punish
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The Wise Ones had invaded Jhanic’s dreams. They had told him to return to the Three-Fold Land. Even without their explanations, he knew why. He had come to the Grey Tower for training. For ages, his people had watched as capable young men ran off to face Sightblinder in the Blight, knowing that they would never return, because they could channel. Even after Saidin had been cleansed, men who could channel had no specific place among the Aiel, like the women who became Wise Ones when their abilities were discovered. Now that he had mastered his own abilities, it was time for him to teach a young man how to channel the One Power. This young man was the son of his old friend, Rhen. He knew that since his own training was complete, and he had led the young men who had come forward to be soldiers, it was time he repaid his clan.

Jhanic traveled to the Three Fold Land by use of a gateway. It felt good to be on the sands again, clad in his kadin’sor. His feet were still made for running on sand, and he traveled by foot, following the directions the Wise Ones of Clan Tomanelle had given him. Rhen met him there, a glittering dragon adorning his left arm. His friend’s sand-colored hair had some white at the temples. The pair joked about how Jhanic had not aged since he left, an effect of using the One Power. Rhen’s boy, Dhenarc, just old enough to choose a society, had freshly finished his training with the spear. His abilities with the One Power were discovered when he was locked in battle with an enemy when buried the man in sand. Jhanic assumed he had used Air, and possibly Earth, because the other warrior’s body had never been found.

Alongside the Wise Ones, Jhanic took to teaching the boy about the male half of the One Power. How to seize it, what uses it had, and a good portion of what he himself learned in the Grey Tower. As the Wise Ones of Clan Tomanelle watched their progression, they brought other men who had been found to channel. Jhanic taught them too, and eventually, Dhenarc began teaching them as well. For years, they worked together to think of a way to integrate these men without sending them on a fool’s errand. Finally, Dhenarc asked the Wise Ones if he could be taken as an apprentice. He swore he would put down his spears and take part in no feud, just like they did. They did not give him an answer, but they watched. Other men decided they would want to become Wise Ones as well, but not all of them.

A white-haired Wise One, Eandha, approached Jhanic and asked him his opinion. He had received training outside the Three-Fold Land, after all. He held the title of Asha’man. Jhanic explained that the Grey Tower took the philosophies of both the White and the Black. Men and women studied and worked together, to make the world a better place, and they all held the same rank when they reached the title of Aes Sedai or Asha’man, and the work continued in Ajahs. He explained that, though it were different amongst the clans, he thought Dhenarc should be given a chance to help lead his clan, if that is what he chose.

The Wise Ones met many times after that before calling Dhenarc to them. He would go to Rhuidean, and pass through the rings, as their apprentices did. Then, they turned to Jhanic. His case was different. Though he had helped his clan and his near-brother’s son, he still wore the sword and dragon pins. Not only that, but he would not put down his spears, as Dhenarc had. He had defended the Grey Tower by dancing the spears, and he would not back down from that. He had taken oaths, though not bound to them with the Oath Rod, and they could tell that his true purpose was in the Vaults.

Eandha held his gaze for a long moment during this discussion. Her face was smooth as a young woman’s, though her hair was white as the snow atop the mountains in the wetlands. Her silver eyes bore into him, but he stared back, spine erect. “You will go to Rhuidean as well, but you will not go through the rings. If you are to go back to the Grey Tower, you will go back with all the knowledge you need of your people.” There was a silence after that, but not a shocked one. This decision made sense to everyone in that tent. He would not go to become a clan chief, but he would come back with the mark of one. There was always the chance that he would not come back at all, but he had taken similar journeys in the Grey Tower. No matter what these revelations meant to him, he would make it out.

The Wise Ones took Jhanic and Dhenarc to the city. The younger man laid down his spears for the final time and ran toward the city, bare as the women who ran there to become apprentices. Before Jhanic left, Eandha stopped him. Should he come back, she had a request of him, but she did not say what it was, then turned her back. He nodded, then departed, feet flying across sand. Before he came back to his sept, he didn’t know how he would be received. He was glad he could be of help. He was glad he had been well received as well.

Lost in his thoughts as he ran, he wondered what awaited him. Jhanic had not left his identity in the Three-Fold Land. Though he had been in the wetlands for years, he had always been Aiel. Now he would know what it his people went through in order to become Aiel. He wondered what happened to those who did not return from Rhuidean, though he did not wonder enough to make him waver. The city gates came into view, and soon enough, the soft boots of his cadin’sor hit paved stones. He tried not to look at everything around him and examine it. His instincts from the Indigo Ajah were to find purposes and understand things.

The old buildings looked as though people might still be in them, but they were silent as the grave. Nothing moved, nothing breathed but him. He did not see Dhenarc anywhere, so he assumed that he must have already begun his own test. Jhanic did not slow as he ran through the city, heading toward its heart. Something in the distance caught his eye. Avendesora. The World Tree was massive, and at the same time it gave peace. Objects began to appear around it, and this time he slowed. He recognized them as ter’angreal. His curiosity sung to him, but he shook it off. He would come back for those...if the Wise Ones allowed it. Around the tree were the glass columns that he had come for, the ter’angreal that would tell him the story of his people.

Moving his peace to a steady walk, he approached them. They were clear glass columns, perhaps a foot thick. Many of them, scattered in a path. The air seemed to vibrate with the power they held. The air was cooler here as well. Without hesitating, he took in a breath and stepped in among them....

He was Shuarn and saw through his eyes. The sept chief shifted his weight from foot to foot and furrowed his brow impatiently. He saw no reason for all the septs to come to this place. He had things to do, a sept to lead, but the Wise Ones. The side of his nose twitched when he thought of them. This was why he had not married one. They had all insisted that the septs meet at the Jenn’s insistence. This place, Rhuidean, what purpose did it serve to his sept? How could it help? Why did the Jenn call all of them here?

Shuarn held back a growl from the back of his throat, then spat at the ground, away from anyone. A blow to his jaw a few years ago had created a few unwanted problems. He was growing old now. His hands were gnarled, and his hair was mostly silver now, like his eyes. This Wise Ones had hinted strongly for a long time that he should step aside, and perhaps let his son take over. It was true that Erarc was a strong warrior, with a good head on his shoulders, but it all came back to his time here. He had promises to keep, especially one to the boy’s mother.

Straightening his back and focusing again on the group of chiefs around him, Shuarn saw one of the Jenn address the group. When the man asked them why they wielded spears and not swords, he really did growl from deep in his throat. What did this Jenn know about his people? He lifted his brows, though, when the man explained that there was a reason they did, and the reason could be found in Rhuidean. He proposed that anyone who led the Aiel should go to the city to learn about their history.

For a moment, Shuarn glanced behind him, toward his sept’s hold. What the Jenn said made sense...for once. A leader should know everything there is to know about his people. Idly, he rubbed his temple at the headache coming to him as he thought of Erarc. His late wife had told Shuarn that he would lead the Serai one day. In order to prepare their son, Shuarn must teach him about leading. He turned back and looked at the city’s gates. Perhaps he could keep that promise to the shade of his life, and let the boy lead.

...Jhanic took in a sharp breath and found himself back in his own mind, among the columns again. There had been a time when the Aiel did not come here to test their leaders. He had seen the past, lived it, if only for a moment. He still felt the man’s love for his departed wife and his hopes for the son they had shared. Jhanic took another step, now curious about the history that the Jenn had spoken of…

Soft boots made for easy movement on the grass. Tedrin began to crouch as he scouted away from his clan. Spear and buckler in hand, he kept an eye out for any movement that might be a threat. His clan was stopping in this village to gather water. He knew they were headed to the other side of the mountains, but what awaited them, he couldn’t tell. It took all that he had not to stare at them in wonder. Instead, he focused on his task. He moved quietly, knowing he had heard voices within the trees. Lifting his veil, he moved forward and lowered his breath. He heard women’s voices.

“And you have checked the cargo, nothing is damaged?” The cool voice with the air of authority belonged to one of the Aes Sedai. It was difficult to tell if she was frustrated or simply asking for a report. He knew that this was now out of his scope, but he stayed behind. The Aes Sedai’s cargo that his clan was helping guard as the Jenn moved it was very interesting to him.

“We have checked the cargo, Aes Sedai, but…” The smaller voice pulled back, hesitating. The other woman was a Jenn. “But whenever we send a man to check it, he falls asleep. When a woman enters, she is unaffected and can bring the man out.”

The Aes Sedai let out a sigh. Tedrin couldn’t recognize her by her voice. She was definitely frustrated now. What were those things exactly? Surely they had something to do with the One Power. He had seen three of those men, struck by sleep. The first one attracted the second to help. The third came in, thinking they had been poisoned and covered his face with his hand. Finally, a woman came in, and it was discovered that women were unaffected. “I will handle it,” the Aes Sedai finally answered.

Tedrin heard leaves and grass rustling as the women moved away from each other, and he moved back toward the camp…

...Blue eyes blinked as Jhanic’s thoughts settled. It seemed he had moved back even further, when the Aiel were working with the Jenn, who worked closely with Aes Sedai. He knew that his people had once lived in the wetlands, but to actually be in the mind of a siswai’aman who had never set foot in sand. He shook his head, ridding himself of this odd feeling. Obviously, the Jenn were transporting ter’angreal for the Aes Sedai. They must have been those that he saw around Avendesora. As his right foot moved forward, he took in a breath and continued…

Cedrim looked his daughter in the eye and considered her. She stood before him, her golden lock chopped short, wearing the cadin’sor. Cedra had always been a tall young woman, able to look her father in the eyes. The clan had said again and again how much she resembled him. Her younger brothers even resembled their mother more than they did him. Cedra was his first born, and the closest to him. She had always said that she was never cut out to be a wife. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach when she laid eyes on a small group of women, taking the spear as a husband. The Jenn did not like it, of course. It was far and removed from the way, and when women picked up their own weapons…

He did not care what the Jenn thought.

Now that his eldest child stood before him, newly sixteen, he knew why she came to him. A smile came to his lips. “Have you spoken to your mother about this?”

Cedra rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, she did!” his wife called from out of sight. Relda came from around the corner, wiping her hands with a cloth. Her fiery hair seemed to float above her head as she walked in the sunlight. “And her mother says the faster she goes off for training the better.” Relda and Cedra exchanged grins, and Cedrim thought that his wife likely would have taken up the spear as well, had this come sooner.

“Very well, daughter,” Cedrim said, patting her shoulder. Cedra gave her father one last smile before running off…

...Jhanic smiled to himself as he came back to himself. The man’s warmth for his family was still in him, and the revelation that the Maidens of the Spear had come up from their own will was a good thing. He hoped if he had a daughter one day, she would stand as proudly as Cedra had. A little more confidently, he took another step…

Soudric held the shaft of his spear and stared at the grains in the wood. He followed the straight shaft to the blade and continued to stare. All his life, he had followed the Way. He had served the best he could, but that time was long behind him. Even now, though, he tried to take apart the spear. Really, it was just wood from a sturdy tree, and some metal. It was only a weapon, if the wielder willed it so. But, he had willed it. This was his spear.

He had turned a blind eye with his people when their people were carted off or killed. After the Breaking, chaos had spread, and violence had ingrained itself in humanity. He had thought of this day in passing sometimes, chiding himself when those thoughts came. But, his family. His whole family. His great-father killed with a strike to the head. The man hadn’t even used a weapon, just his fist on the old and ailing. His brother had fought off the brigands, if that’s what they were. He died horribly and painfully. And his mother...He did not think of his mother often, but when he did, Soudric heard her screams as pure and terror-filled as they had been as she was tortured...and he hid in silence. His mother had thrown him in a closet, and his elder brother had jammed the door shut.

Soudric had wanted to help, he had wanted to get his family out of there, but...all he could do was wait and stay quiet as he heard his family fight for and lose their lives.

And now, he moved with those who had rid themselves of the Way. They claimed the spear could be used to hunt, and that they had no need of swords. As he looked down at the man at his feet with blood pooling from his throat, he knew that was true. Kneeling down, he began to apologize to the dead man as tears poured from his eyes in waves.

Swords were not necessary to do violence.

...Jhanic quickly wiped tears from his own eyes. He still felt Soudric’s sadness, his despair, and he felt a kick in his own stomach. Of all these memories so far, this was the hardest to take in. they had followed the Way, like the Lost Ones. No. He would never call them the Lost Ones again. They had no lost anything, and neither had the Aiel. He had learned from his time in the Grey Tower that different did not necessarily mean bad. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He had a ways to go yet…

...Sent away. Chernan had been sent away. He had been channeling, and trying to keep it to himself, but the madness… The madness from the taint had clawed its way into his mind. He had tried to keep himself from his family. He had tried to act as if nothing was wrong. He had kept up a good act, and then...and then...the Aes Sedai. The Aes Sedai quirked her perfect black eyebrow and looked down her nose at him. Said he had looked pale. Said he was not himself. His son and grandson stood behind him, silent. Then, the blasted woman asked if he had been channeling.

Chernan had started to laugh at that. He laughed so much that his chest shook, then his whole body. Had he been channeling? He never had much in the way of abilities. He was not strong, but the taint was, and he told the Aes Sedai as much. As he laughed, he reached for Saidin again, but there was something in his way. The woman shielded him. Did she not feel the spiders crawling all over her face as she stared at him. “The ice in your eyes won’t do much good against those things, Aes Sedaaaii…” he proclaimed as his son and grandson held his arms back as he stumbled.

Chernan had been a good Aiel. He had tried his hardest. He had Healed his wife when she was sick. That was the start of it. The taint hadn’t touched her. Chernan had seen a Myrddraal when he plunged a knife into her, though. He told his son and the boy that someone else had done it. He channeled to make it appear as someone had come in. A Trolloc spoke with his grandson’s voice when he expressed sadness. A grieving Trolloc. Who would believe that?

A madman, that’s who.

Now, despite all his efforts, all his love, all his sacrifice, the Aes Sedai went with his son and grandson to the Blight. Something about how he had wanted to fight the Dark One. Well, of course Chernan wanted to fight the Dark One. It was all he could think about after...after what?

It didn’t matter.

He would get his revenge. Now that his family had left him, either by death or abandonment, that was all he had left. He swayed and giggled to himself as he stared into the Blight. Such strange songs, and such beautiful decay. He took hold of the tainted Saidin and laughed a little louder. He saw movement at the border and walked toward it. “Hmm…? Ah, an eyeless thing.”

The pale eyeless face smiled gracefully as Chernan walked into the Blight, casually humming a song. “Tell me, Myrddraal…” he said to the figure at his side that seemed to move effortlessly among the trees, and backwards even! “Are you...could you be real, or are you in my mind?” To test this, he wove Fire at it. A tree burst into flame as the figure of the Myrddraal stood unaffected within the fire.

Chernan laughed and capered deeper into the Blight.

...Jhanic had to shake himself at this scene. To feel the madness of the taint and actually live in the man’s jumbled mind. It made him want to toss his lunch. He took a breath and regained his stature and righting his stomach. That was what the taint had felt like. He had felt the slick decay on Saidin when the man channeled. He felt like he needed to bathe. Taking another step forward, he was glad that it had been cleansed, both for his sake and for Dhenarc’s…

Loarn gently packed soil around the Chora clipping and tied it off. The world was not as it was, and the Aes Sedai had asked them to save the Chora trees. There weren’t many of them left, but what was left had to be moved away from the male channelers. They had to be protected. He packed the clipping as the first of this cart and moved to clip another when his son, Chernan, tugged on his cadin’sor. Making sure the leaves and stems were not disturbed, he turned to his son.

“Father, Neira Sedai wants to see you.”

“Thank you, Chernan.” Loarn patted his child on the head. The boy was not but five, and he tried to be as gentle with him as he was with the Chora trees he protected. Chernan ran back to his mother, and Loarn made his way to the Hall of the Servants.

With the male Aes Sedai gone, the Hall was quiet, in comparison. Aes Sedai and Da’shain moved on their own task, and he slipped in seamlessly, as he had so many times before. Neira Sedai waited for him in her rooms, and he reached the door. She opened the door when he knocked. She must have been troubled, because she did not use the One Power. “Loarn…” she said after he had walked in. The door shut seemingly without any force.

“You wished to see me, Neira Sedai?” he asked, giving her a smile, hoping that would ease whatever troubled her.

“Loarn, I have had a Foretelling. I have had many Foretellings these last few days. I must relay two of them to you before you set out.”

His smile disappeared, and he did his best to look studious, instead of worried.

“The first is that the Aiel must keep the Covenant on your journey.”

He blinked at that, taken aback. “Uh...of course, Aes Sedai. The Covenant is as much a part of me as--”

“I know, Loarn, but it was...prominent in my Foretelling. Please keep it in mind.” When he nodded in agreement, she continued. “The other…” Her voice sounded strained at this, and she looked away from him, then back. “The other is that after we are both gone, your boy Chernan will channel. He will channel, and go mad in the process.”

There was a long silence at that. Chernan...his sweet little red-haired boy...no. He knew there were some who would want the child gentled, watched...killed. He felt the blood drain out of his face. He could tell there was more that Neira knew but did not say. “Th-thank you...Aes Sedai.”

“Loarn...please know that I only wish the best for you and your family. I only wanted you to know.”

He nodded, then left the Aes Sedai’s quarters. He walked out of the Hall of Servants, and ran toward his boy. He took the child in his arms, and as he clipped the Chora trees for preservation, he spoke to him, holding the child on his hip. He told him of all the wonderful properties of the trees, and why they were so important. As he did, he thought to himself of everything he would say about the dangers of Saidin, as the boy grew up.

...The glass columns shone brightly when Jhanic came back to himself again. He wondered what the man would think if he knew the fate of his son. He could not judge the man for wanting to keep the boy alive. Nor could he judge Chernan for what he had tried to conceal.

He blinked, then looked around. He took another step forward, but he was still himself. With spots still in front of his vision, he pulled back the sleeve on his left arm. Encircling it was the red and gold dragon. He had made it out. He walked slowly up to Avendesora and stood in front of it, feeling the peace it provided. He did not have the Foretelling, and he did not dream as the Wise Ones did, but he had the tools to do one of those in the Grey Tower. And with this knowledge, and and his resources, he would be able to help his people move forward again.

On his way out of the plaza, he scanned the ter’angreal, angreal, and sa’angreal that littered the place. He smiled to himself and decided that he would not research them, as his Ajah would likely want him to. Now Jhanic saw that they were not tools, but a symbol of the struggle of his people. He walked through the empty city once more and made his way back to the Wise Ones at Chaendaer.

Eandha greeted him first, and told him that he had been there for eight days. The clan chiefs gathered around him as well, and he learned that Dhenarc still had not come back. Jhanic spent much of his time there with Rhen as they waited. His friend was ecstatic to see a dragon on his arm, matching his own. Now that Jhanic knew his time here was coming to an end, he felt another sadness. He and Rhen had become friends again, and now they would be separated. He would go back to the Grey Tower, and his friend’s hair would turn even more silver. He tried not to dwell on it as they waited.

Dhenarc emerged the next evening. The Wise Ones took him into their fold and began teaching him immediately of all the skills in leadership he would need. They dressed him in a white algode shirt like theirs, and gave him a pair of brown pants. He even tied a gray shawl around his hips. Jhanic smiled at this.

“Asha’man.”

He looked up and saw Eandha looking down as he sat. He stood, ready for whatever request she had for him. “The Wise Ones of your clan thank you, Jhanic of the Serai Tomanelle.” She smiled at him. “You have helped train this young man, and now he is our responsibility. We would ask that you…” Her voice changed from gracious to stone hard. “...Stop being lazy and learn to meet us in the dream. We would seek your guidance from time to time, and we will train you in that realm as well. And we know that you can Travel. Come see your near-brother before he is too white-haired to remember your face.”

He and Rhen exchanged looks, then laughed.

Jhanic bid farewell to his clan as he walked out of sight and seized Saidin, pushing back the memory of the taint from the columns, and wove a gateway, thinking of the Channeling Yards in the Grey Tower. Anyone there would recognize the forming weave and move out of the way before it opened. He let it hover there before he tugged on the Spirit to open a gateway just big enough for him to walk through. He saw a white-clad novice and an Accepted in a banded dress glance in his direction. The novice stared as he walked through, though.

“Uh-uhm...are you lost…?” the stunned girl asked.

“Of course he is not lost, Aniel! Can’t you see his cord and pins?” the Accepted snapped at the girl.

“Oh! I am sorry, Asha’man...w-welcome back!”

He nodded to them both and closed his gateway. His feet met hard ground, and the noises of the Grey Tower filled his head space once again. It felt different now. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly and decided he would find out why later. He had to report to his Head of Ajah.