The Cycle of Pain: A Trilogy

Ariel tossed fitfully on the bed. Of late, her sleep had been uneasy, tormented by dreams of darkness and despair. She saw Corey in them often, a walking corpse with reproachful eyes, reaching wordlessly for her. She saw Murad, waiting in the shadows, biding his time. She saw Ishamael, shouting something unintelligible, whatever message he might have for her lost in the sounds of her own screams. She saw the wolves, turned savage, blood running from their fangs and staining their fur, seeking out humankind not as pack mates but as prey. Sleep had held nothing but terrors for her lately and she spent most of her energy trying to ward her dreams, waking each morning even more exhausted and despairing than the last. The past few nights, she'd feared to sleep at all and had drawn deeply on the Power to keep herself going far past what her body's natural reserves would tolerate.

And then her half-brother Lews, sister-in-marriage Ilyena, and best friend Rowaine had all confronted her that afternoon. Get some sleep, or else, they'd all warned her, and she hadn't the will to even ask "or else what?" let alone resist the mild Compulsion Lews had set on her or the syrup of poppy Rowaine poured into the goblet of wine Ilyena then held to Ariel's lips. So now she slept deeply for the first time in weeks and was unable to shield her dreams from those who waited for her. The world would change tonight because of that.

Stagsbane was waiting. "It has been long since you were open to us, Autumn Leaves. Come." The note of command in the old alpha's voice brooked no disobedience and so she followed in a trance-like state. Even here, the syrup of poppies affected her, and she the odd sensation of observing herself as from a great distance, disassociated from herself. Something was going to happen tonight, she sensed, but she could not summon the energy to care what.

But even syrup of poppies could not suppress the shock she felt when Stagsbane led her not to the pack, but to her own dreaming field of nighteyes and forget-me-nevers beneath the starry sky of mankind's dreams, where *he * was waiting. "Revered One, what have you done?! You have betrayed me!" Ariel tried to summon up the will to flee, but her feet were fettered by poppy juice and he had always been stronger than was she. She felt herself rooted to the spot as he approached.

"This one is evil and more, Autumn Leaves, and if comes a day that I may sink my teeth into his soft throat I will do so gladly, but he has truths you must see. Even such as he may yet serve the purposes of the Great Packleader. Almost you are worthy to be a wolf, Autumn Leaves, and your heart understands necessity. See what he would show you, think of the good of the pack, and do what you must." Stagsbane nuzzled her hand once, and bared his throat to her in a gesture of respect that made Ariel's throat tighten. He was saying goodbye. "May you have good hunting and warm dens, Revered One, until at last you join the unending dream." She somehow managed to speak the words of the ancient ritual without choking, touching his muzzle gently. He looked up at her one last time, and in his eyes was the sorrow of a thousand generations of loss. He nuzzled her again, and was gone. In the distance, she heard the voices of the pack raised in mournful howling.

"There are few of my enemies I truly respect," Ishamael said quietly. "Your half-brother is one, your not-dead lover is another. That wolf is the third. Wolves know how to look at necessities without letting emotion cloud their judgment." Ariel swallowed hard before she dared to speak again. "Why have you had me brought here, Ishamael? What is this thing you would show me? I am weary, and heartsick, and would be gone into some semblance of a healing sleep. Say your piece quickly, and let me go." "Mashiara, you are at the end of your tether. You cannot continue as you have been. I promise, I will be as brief as I dare, and then… then, you can rest at last. Come." His voice was oddly gentle and reminded her, strangely, of Stagsbane. He held out a hand to her; she took it and the folds of reality shifted around them.

"Where are we?" The world around them was strange and forbidding; Ariel did not recognize anything at all. The sky was clouded with odd vapors and smokes and tasted unclean. Huge, graceless buildings made of a uniformly dull grayish material crowded together along narrow, dirty streets. There were few trees and almost no grass. People with closed, hostile-looking faces hurried along, seldom speaking except to mutter curses if some other traveler should pass too closely. Peculiar machines roared along the streets, belching out foulness in their wake. A group of youths accosted a frail-looking old woman, taking her rucksack and pushing her roughly to the ground, and no one came to her aid. The place was hostile and sterile and ugly, and worst of all, Ariel could not sense so much as a whisper of the One Power. So frightening was this place to her that she did not even realize she clung tightly to Ishmael’s hand, seeking reassurance. He noticed, though. Had there been enough of Elan Morin left to feel such things, he would have bitterly regretted all he had lost when the Great Lord had claimed him. Had there been enough left.

"The name of this place, as far as I can determine, is "New York." Whatever became of Old York, I've never discovered. But to more accurately answer your question, where we are is the future. Or, actually, a future. A future reached at the end of the path you currently tread." He felt her hand tremble in his, and a deeply buried piece of Elan Morin resurfaced briefly, felt pity for the fate of the woman he had loved. Then Ishamael ruthlessly suppressed that remnant. What must be, must be. Her price would be no higher than his had been. "Tell me plainly what you mean, Ishamael," she said at last. "I am too worn out to play games, and have had too much poppy to think clearly. If this place has something to do with me, it escapes my understanding."

"What you see here, mashiara, is the culmination of a series of events set in motion by a choice you will make. A small thing, is a choice, yet its repercussions can echo through the long corridors of time even after the one who chose has long since fallen back into dust. I have been researching this timeline since before we ever met Ariel." He sighed, then pulled her closer to him with an insistent tug on her hand. "Come, we must leave here if I am to deal with that poppy-haze in your mind. You would not survive a brush with the kind of Power I must use here, I do not think."

She felt herself pulled close against him, and the heat emanating from his body astonished her. It was as if he were made of flame not flesh. Then a haze of blackness surrounded her and the world spun under her feet. She felt fouled by that blackness, soiled and violated in some manner she could not define. The folds of reality shifted around them yet again.

They were back in her own dreaming fields again, beside the star watching rock. He led her over to the rock, bade her sit, sat then himself beside her. "And now the time has come, Ariel, for you to know much of what I have known these many long years. But first…" More swiftly than her thought could follow, he reached into her with the One Power and wiped away the haziness and lethargy of not only the poppy, but also of the many sleepless, tormented nights. In the blinking of an eye, the beating of a heart, Ariel was herself again: calm, logical, and centered. "Thank you, Elan Morin." She composed herself, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for him to begin.

She had not long to wait. "You know, mashiara, that Murad Rosmani hunts you. It is his thought that should he break you, he will break Corey in the process. Amazingly, his thought in this is correct. I have seen it, down the paths of If, in the worlds of Might Have Been. As I said, I have been studying this possible future since I first stumbled upon it in the Portal Stones more than 200 years ago now. You will recall that I spoke out vehemently against Mierin Sedai's research proposal?" Ariel nodded. At the time, it had made no sense to her at all, for the potential discovery of a new, undivided power source had excited and thrilled almost everyone. Later, after the Bore had been formed, she'd always wondered how he knew.

"That was the first choice down the path to this obscenity of a future. And I say obscenity, because that is what awaits. A complete perversion of the natural world, bereft of the One Power and ruled by so-called technology that pollutes the planet and depletes its resources. Mankind has divided itself into petty nations and races and wars constantly rage over insignificant issues. People hate one another because their skin tone is different, or because they pray to the Creator in a different way, or because they chose lovers of their own gender. The land, air, and water are fouled with toxins. Life is valued so cheaply that children slaughter their playmates for disputes over toys. Even a world remade in the image of the Great Lord could not be much worse. At least if the One Power exists, there would
be hope."

Ariel looked at him in amazement. "Are you telling me you chose to serve the Dark One just to avoid this future? That you… sacrificed yourself to him for this?"

"Not exactly," Ishamael continued ruefully. "That was my thought, but once He had claimed me, my own will was irrelevant. You cannot know what His touch is like, Ariel. He is beyond us. He… transcends. My studies had revealed that if Mierin chose to create the Bore, then a darkness would come to the land. And I saw that if I were to accept that darkness instead of fighting it, then there was a chance to avoid this wasteland I had seen. I did not see, however, how utterly… consumed I would be by Him. I am slowly being driven mad by His touch, Ariel. Eventually, there will be nothing left of the man I once was and I will be completely Ba'alzaamon, the Heart of the Darkness. Even now, there is hardly enough of me left to make any real difference."

Ariel sat listening in rapt, horrified silence. Elan Morin had seen a future that he deemed unbearable and set out to prevent it, sacrificing his very soul in the process. It was at once the most selfless and the most arrogant thing she had ever heard. A thought occurred to her. "Elan," she asked quietly, "how do you know that your own choice to meddle in the Worlds of If was not the catalyst that *created * this path in the first place? We are warned against the worlds of the Portal Stones for good reason. Even the Ancients had not fathomed their secrets, and they were far wiser than we could ever be." He laughed then, a harsh, bitter sound. "If only you knew how many times I tortured myself with that very question, Ariel. I wish I knew. But it becomes irrelevant, now. The path exists, and its next fork lies with you. I cannot stop the choices from being made, for down that path lies complete oblivion. If I could, I would have strangled Mierin in her sleep to keep her from drilling that Light-cursed Bore. Even speaking to you this way is a risk, but it is one I must take. Corey cannot turn to the Great Lord, Ariel, or that future WILL exist."

"And if Murad defeats me, breaks me, Corey will turn, correct?" Ariel's words were cool, clinical, as if she were discussing a lab experiment. "Correct, Ariel. And if you face Murad, he will defeat you, make no mistake. He is too strong for you, Ariel, and has dabbled in knowledge that would horrify you. You cannot stand against him, and you cannot fall to him. You can run, but he will never give up and eventually, he will find you and break you, and the world will move on to its loathsome future. To be sure, even if Corey does not turn, there is still a possibility of that future. But Corey's fall makes it a certainty."

He stood up and gazed down at her with a smile as wistful as a word of farewell. "I will leave you with your thoughts now, mashiara. I have given you as much as I can. For what it's worth, Ari, know that I loved you well." The darkness rippled around him again and he vanished. "And I loved you well also, Elan Morin," she whispered to the emptiness. "I suppose I still do." For a long time after, she sat on the rock, counting the stars and thinking.

Ariel awoke in her own bed, her mind completely clear for the first time in days. The choice that had at first seemed so impossible, so cruel, now seemed perfectly simple. She rose from the bed, bathed, and dressed carefully. Her eyes had most of their old sparkle back, tempered (if one looked very closely) with a bittersweet sadness and a wisdom that went far beyond even her long years. She stopped briefly to see her half-brother and his wife, reassuring them that she was fine again, that her long sleep had restored her completely. They hugged her gladly, expressed hope that she would resume her duties. She assured them she would. They had no way of knowing that her duty roster had been rather dramatically altered.

She went to Rowaine next, and begged a favor of her. In the extremely unlikely event something should happen to her, Ariel asked her friend, would Rowaine please make sure Corey received the small package Ariel had just handed over? Rowaine teased Ariel about night terrors; Ariel laughingly agreed it was a silly fancy; Rowaine made a mock-solemn oath to carry out Ariel's "last request." In the box was a heavy gold ring, set with a single, perfect amethyst. Ariel had finally understood it was the ring and Corey that were the critical elements of the
Foretelling. He would know to whom it should be given when the time came.

She looked in on her mother, who was still in the care of the Restorers after her ordeal. She was asleep, and Ariel chose not to wake her. All she really wanted was to see her mother, and know that she would recover. There weren't any words for what she felt just then anyway. And then, because there was no place else where she could feel close to him, she went to Corey's office. She sank down in his chair, the leather still holding his scent even after so many days. For a moment, it was almost as if she were wrapped securely in his arms once more. She wished his body had not been whisked away again, doubtless through the agencies of Enigma, but accepted it as yet another thing that must be. And perhaps it was for the best. The image of his still, lifeless face was not the one she wanted to carry with her. Better the memory of laughing blue eyes, filled with love. She hoped that in time, he would come to understand her choice, and forgive her for it. Her glance fell on the crystal paperweight on the desk. Corey had a habit of picking it up and rolling it around in his hands when he was thinking. She smiled. The perfect place… She embraced the Source and channeled briefly, and then it was done. Deliberately, the words she chose echoed Elan Morin's to her. "For what it's worth, dear one, I loved you well. Peace favor you always."

She rose from the chair, and opened a gateway, but for Skimming not Traveling. In a fit of whimsy, she fashioned her platform in the shape of a carpet. A flying carpet… Elan would laugh at her folly, but he would understand. He always had, even when she had not. "Well, Murad," she said as she stepped onto the platform, knowing he would never hear, "I do believe this shall be checkmate." She skimmed for a few moments and then calmly, deliberately, stepped off of the carpet into the welcoming silence of oblivion.

Somewhere beyond the conventional bounds of space and time, there was a small sound, like the snick of a seamstress's shears. A single thread had been cut from the Great Pattern. And in the bowels of Shayol Ghul, at the Great Lord's High Council, Ishamael lifted his head as if in response to that sound. A brief flicker of what might have been pain crossed his face as he felt his last remaining tie to the man he had once been unknot and free him of the semblance of sanity. It was with something very like relief that he embraced the madness at last.

Corey looked into the mirror and frowned at the image looking back at him. The hair was now more silver than blond, the face tired; a wicked scar slashing across it only served to highlight the absence of vitality. The blue eyes, one now slightly milky due to an old wound, were those of a man who had seen too much and lived through it all despite not really wanting to. He looked more closely at the image in the mirror; Corey thought he could begin to see the glimmer of madness in those eyes. He had been fighting that madness for over a century, but now in the mirror he could see confirmation of what he had instinctively known for the last few weeks. He was beginning to lose the battle at long last.

Corey brought a hand to his face and touched the scar. It was horrible, running from the top of his forehead, through his right eye, down his cheek, and across his lips to end in the middle of his chin. It was this wound that had clouded his one eye and left him mostly blind on the right side. Healing had never been able to either restore his vision or remove the scar; Rowaine had tried many times, but nothing she did ever worked. Corey had shrugged off each attempt, saying that the scar was a good disguise anyway.

Grunting at the mirror in disgust, he decided not to shave and turned away towards the bed. Even after so many years he still half expected to see Ariel in it. His mind sometimes tricked him into believing that he was inside the walls of Paaren Disen once again, in the garden paradise of Ariel's bedchambers. But even his increasingly clouded mind wouldn't go as far as placing an imaginary Ariel in the bed, and the emptiness there brought Corey's attention sharply back to the present. He knew exactly where he was again but his mind still lingered in the past, recalling the last time he had seen her... had seen Ariel. Corey stumbled over to the bed and sat down hard, making the frame groan in protest. He had kissed her goodbye and promised to be back soon... but that hadn't happened and she'd been lost before he ever made it back to Paaren Disen. He'd never seen her again, except in his memories. And in his dreams...

"Papa!" The high, slightly shrill voice of a young girl interrupted Corey's reverie. He turned toward the sound and a smile crossed his scarred face as his daughter poked her head through the door. "What is it Coriel?" She was nearly jumping up and down with excitement, even her red-gold hair seeming to shimmer with anticipation. "There is something I have to show you! It is amazing!" Corey smiled indulgently. "Lead the way then, my daughter."

Clapping her hands together excitedly, Coriel quickly took Corey's hand and practically dragged him out of the wagon. She led him down the faint traces of what was once a dirt road, now almost completely grown over. They followed the track through a dense stand of trees and then emerged in a broad meadow alive with the colors of wild flowers. As soon as they reached the meadow, Coriel dropped her father's hand and ran off into through field, her arms flailing madly. Clouds of butterflies took to the air in agitated flight in her wake.

Coriel stopped in the center of the meadow and turned back to Corey, laughing delightedly. "Isn't it beautiful, papa?" she called back to him. "Have you ever seen anything like it?" Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Corey found himself laughing along with her. "No, not for a very long time, anyway," he answered as he waded through the field of flowers toward his daughter. "It seems you have made quite a find." Then he grinned mischievously. "So tell me, did you bring me here first, or your brother?"

"Well, *I* have never seen anything like it, and I think it's just amazing! And I always show you things first! Well, almost always..." Giggling impishly, Coriel ran off again, jumping and swinging her arms. Corey ran after her, trying to catch her. When Coriel realized he was catching up, she squealed in mock fright and tried to dodge. But Corey caught her anyway, swinging her up into his arms for a hug. Coriel dissolved into delighted peals of laughter as Corey, also laughing, set her down again at last. But his merriment was cut short as a Foretelling gripped him. Looking behind his daughter he saw a huge old tree, and under it was a tombstone: a tombstone that bore his name.

Hearing her father's laughter die, Coriel's smile disappeared also and was replaced by a frown of concern. "What is it, Papa?" When Corey did not respond she turned to follow his gaze. Seeing the tree, she gasped in fright. "Why do I see a tombstone under that tree now, Papa?" Sighing sadly, Corey placed a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder. "It seems you have inherited one of my Talents." He pulled his daughter to him and hugged her close, smoothing her hair. "I won't lie to you, sweetling. Sometimes the Foretelling can be anything but a gift. I hope that it will be kinder to you than it has been to me."

Coriel pulled away and looked up at him. "But what does this one mean?" "I don't know," he lied. He did know what it meant; it meant that his battle with the taint would soon be over, but he didn't want to burden Coriel with that knowledge just yet. She seemed to sense his evasion, though, and pulled further away from him. "Where is mama?" she demanded in a frightened-sounding voice. Corey sighed again and shrugged. "She's looking for a stedding. There was one around here about seventeen years ago, but the world has changed too much to be certain of its position now."

Coriel's eyes widened. She had spent too much of her childhood in steddings not to know what it signified. Inside the safety of a stedding, her father would be unable to touch the Source, unable to succumb to the madness of the taint. "But, Papa, we just left one..." Her voice trailed off as she realized what it meant. Corey shrugged again and said simply, "Well, the taint is strong." He cupped his hand under his daughter's chin and lifted her face toward his so that he could look into her eyes. "I have learned to hold off the madness sweetling, but I can't do it for very long. Your mother has shielded me and has placed a strong Compulsion on me so that I will not try to break it. I will be safe for a while yet, but your mother takes no chances. Nor would I want her to."

"She isn't going to find one, is she? That is what the Foretelling meant." Coriel sounded very much a scared little girl just then despite how mature she was for her age, and Corey resented the circumstances that had made her both of those things. He put on a reassuring smile. "Not all Foretellings happen right away, little one. But I think we should talk; here, follow me." Corey signaled his daughter to follow him and headed over to the tree. He hadn't taken but a few strides when he realized Coriel wasn't following. He turned back to her. "Come on, it's just a tree. It won't bite you."

Reluctantly, she followed and watched suspiciously as Corey sat beneath it, patting the ground next to him. He smiled up at her encouragingly. "See? No tombstone, no grave, and I am here, alive. Do I seem insane to you?" Corey patted the ground beside him again. "Come on, sit down. It hurts my neck to look up at you." Coriel hesitantly obeyed, carefully choosing a spot on his right, opposite where the tombstone had been. Corey angled his body slightly so that he could see his daughter through his good eye. She was little more than a blurry outline through the other one. Seeing the concern in Coriel's eyes, he smiled reassuringly yet again. "Coriel, Foretelling is an imprecise gift even at its best. It is quite rare for a Foretelling to happen right away." Corey explained carefully, as if he were back in the Hall of Servants teaching a first year class. "I once had a Foretelling that was unusually clear, but that did not come to pass for over a century. Foretellings are strange, and hard to interpret, and practically impossible to place in time. I could end up outliving you, or I could die tomorrow. The only thing we know for certain is that somehow I am going to end up as fertilizer for that tree. No doubt it will grow magnificently after that."

Coriel laughed weakly at that, the ghost of a smile almost breaking through. Corey smiled down at her fondly, and reached out to wipe away the tears trickling down her cheek. "You have had a hard life, my precious daughter, harder even than other children of Aes Sedai. I can certainly understand your inclination to see only the worst possible scenario; life has never given you reason to think differently." Corey shrugged helplessly. "These are hard times, Coriel. The world is being broken around us; a stream we crossed yesterday could be gone tomorrow. You've grown up with the knowledge that your father will eventually go mad, will have to be killed or severed. You've lived with the fear that your brother Lewin may some day also face the hell that awaits me if, Light forbid, he develops the spark. You've had playmates disappear because it was suspected that they could channel." Corey wiped another tear from her face. "You've never had a stable home; being constantly uprooted is a way of life for you simply because of what your parents are, because of what you are. Why should you believe anything but the worst?"

He took Coriel's hand in his, and before she could reply answered his own question. "Because hope is what will help us survive these dark days, is why. I Foresee that you will become a great Aes Sedai, strong and kind, a shining example of what it is to be Aes Sedai." Corey squeezed her hand comfortingly. "I tell you this now because you are nearly thirteen winters and have already touched the Source. You are not yet a woman grown, but you are no longer a child and you deserve to know what fate stands before you. I fear that your life will be a hard one; it will not ease much in the years to come. Your generation will have to learn things mine never did. At least we knew who the enemy was; we knew whom it was we had to fight, what we had to do. But I fear you will not have that luxury." He sighed sadly. "I foresee that the road to reunifying the Aes Sedai will be a bloody one. You will experience great joy, but even greater sorrow. The only comfort you will receive is from your sisters, other Aes Sedai who have suffered as you have."

"But why? Why must we suffer? What will come of it?" Coriel asked the questions tentatively, as if she were unsure she wanted to hear the answers. "I don't know," Corey said sadly. "Maybe you have to pay for the sins of my generation. For our pride, for our ignorance we were punished. We lived in a world of peace and plenty, but we destroyed it with our lust for power, petty grievances, and pride in our dominion over the world. We set ourselves up to equal the Creator, and we were toppled for it." Corey looked away, remembering. "Even by the time of the raid at Shayol Ghul we hadn't learned. We thought we could patch what the Creator had made, that we could fix what we had broken as good as new. And in retribution for our pride, saidin was tainted and the world was broken." Corey ran a finger down the scar on his face. "And I received this so that I might remember those sins. In our pride, we became what we fought against."

Coriel look puzzled. "But Papa, you couldn't have been at Shayol Ghul when was the Bore was sealed. Every man who was a part of that went instantly insane. Everyone knows that." Corey looked up at the sky remembering that fateful day; remembering the blood, the bodies, the sight and smell of death all around him. He remembered a bolt of lightning cast from a dear friend, breaking his body and rending his face. Corey looked back at his daughter, the horror of the day reflected in his eyes. "I was there, daughter. But for the most part what you said is true. Every man who worked to seal the Bore did go instantly insane." He looked away then, brushing a tear from his eye. The pain of that moment was still as fresh today as it had been when it happened, and as he looked back at his daughter a part of him was there again, reliving it. "I was ordered by Lews Therin to lead the troops protecting the team of Aes Sedai who would seal the Bore. Nearly all male Aes Sedai of significant strength had been assigned to the sealing team, but Lews needed a few of us to protect the troops from the Dreadlords."

Coriel reached out and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Corey looked down at his daughter's hand entwined in his and saw Ariel's ring on her finger. Corey had given that ring to Rowaine a long time ago but she'd never worn it, out of respect for the memory of her friend. Corey did not know when Coriel had come into possession of that ring, but he did not like seeing it on her one little bit. Long ago he had a Foretelling about that ring; someone wearing it would be the one to end his life when the madness finally took control. At the time of the Foretelling, he had assumed that it would be Ariel but after her death he'd thought it would be Rowaine. Seeing the ring now on his daughter's hand, flashing in the sunlight, he knew he'd been wrong; it was not going to be Rowaine. It would be Coriel, his daughter. Right now there was nothing but love for him in her eyes, no fear of what the taint would turn him into - would that change? He smiled sadly. A hard life was to be hers, losing first him and then her beloved only child. Corey squeezed her hand in return, and silently wished her all the strength that he'd never had.

"What did happen, Papa?" Coriel's words broke into his thoughts, pulling him back to the story he'd been telling. Corey saw in her that same curiosity and need to learn more he'd also had at her age. She was much like her father in many ways, but strangely she was just as much like her other namesake, Ariel. Her hair was almost exactly the same shade as Ariel's had been, and she had that same love of puzzles and complex problems. For a moment, Corey wondered if it were possible that Coriel was Ariel reborn. He looked at Ariel's ring on her finger and smiled at the thought. It would be just like Ariel to come back as his daughter, if she had any say in the matter. She'd had a wicked sense of humor.

Corey picked up the threads of the his tale, once again remembering what he had spent the latter years of his life trying desperately to forget. "Shayol Ghul had changed much since the days of my youth. Then, it had been an island paradise; but the Dark One's touch had turned it into a desolate and barren waste, a blight on the world. It was a place were nightmares walked." Ruthlessly, he pushed aside the memories of his youth when his father would take him to that island for vacations. "We were pleasantly surprised to find all of the Forsaken plus many of the top-ranking Dreadlords there. That gave us an incredible opportunity to destroy the Shadow's whole command structure in one stroke. We took that opportunity, and struck fast and hard. Surprise was our ally and we were merciless. They didn't have a chance." Corey paused for a deep breath, overwhelmed by the memories. Coriel squeezed his hand once more and urged him to continue.

Corey's gaze was distant, seeing in his mind's eye that terrible battle being waged again. "I killed my father that day, your grandfather. He was one of the first Aes Sedai to turn to the Shadow, and he had gone so deep he was beyond saving. I remember quite clearly the look of shock in his eyes as he realized I was going to defeat him." Corey shook his head sadly. "He had always been so proud of his strength in the Power, you see. He never realized, or perhaps never admitted, just how much stronger I was until that day."

Corey paused and cleared his throat. His voice was rough with grief when he continued. "I destroyed him utterly. If I could have done more to him, I would have. This was a man who had tortured and murdered his own wife, my mother, your grandmother, just because she would not turn to the Shadow." He looked his daughter straight in the eye, wanting to be sure she absorbed what came next. "Soon after I felt the Dark One's counterstroke. It literally knocked me to the ground, left me dizzy and nauseated. Just reaching for saidin made me sick." Releasing Coriel's hand, he folded both of his own together as if in prayer. "Many of the Aes Sedai nearby had been driven to despair from the backlash, even those not directly working on the Bore. The few who were still sane were in the same state as I, too sick to even think of defense. Our comrades turned on us in their madness and butchered us where we lay."

Corey closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the steeple of his hands. "And then, those who had sealed the Bore returned. They were all howling mad and totally enraged. Thinking our few remaining soldiers were Trollocs instead of men, they started killing anything that moved. Lews Therin saw me trying to get to my feet and screamed as if I were the Dark One himself standing before him. He cast a bolt of lightning in my direction. I remember a brilliant flash of light, and searing pain, and then nothing more..."

Corey touched the scar etched across his features, feeling anew the agony of that dreadful wound. "When I came to I was covered in blood and blind in one eye, my body burned and broken. Somehow despite the pain, despite the nauseating effect of the taint, I managed to channel enough saidin to open a gateway into your mother's apartments. I stumbled through and quickly lost consciousness again." Corey opened his eyes. "To this day, I am amazed that I survived at all. Your mother did what she could, but the wounds just would not heal cleanly. She says I must have had a Foretelling while I was unconscious, because I jumped up as soon as she had healed me and demanded she take me into a stedding." Corey frowned in concentration, trying to bring forth his own memory of that moment, but was as always unable to recall a single detail. "She listened, fortunately. I spent more than a year in that first stedding half-crazed from the taint, half-dead from my injuries. For a long while, I didn't even know who I was. And worst of all, although it undeniably saved my life, I was completely unable to touch or even sense the Source. The Ogier who lived there never really knew who I was, but they knew I had been Aes Sedai. They treated me respectfully, but they also made very sure I recovered completely." Corey smiled at the memory of those Ogier who had tended him. "Ogier may be gentle souls, but trying to make them do something they don't want to is like trying to move a boulder with only a twig for a lever. And even if I could have somehow budged them, your mother was by my side constantly to make certain I didn't try anything rash." Corey laughed quietly. "You know how your mother is." Those were some of the only good memories he had from those dark times.

Serious once more, Corey continued. "By the time I was fully healed and in full control of my faculties, the world had learned all about the taint on saidin and was being destroyed by the men it drove insane." Coriel nodded, digesting all he was telling her. "Papa, what was the Dragon like?" Corey smiled at the memory of his old friend. "Lews Therin was the best of us all, and he never liked being called the Dragon. He kept us together throughout the dark times, and kept hope alive in us no matter the odds. Because of the breaking of the world people have forgotten that he only did what had to be done. Even had he known what would happen, the tainting of saidin and the breaking of the world was a small price to pay to have kept the Shadow from winning." Corey sighed. "We may not have won the war, but we didn't lose either. The Dark One did not get free; he remains in his prison. That day was not the last battle." Coriel nodded, then looked thoughtful. "Papa, just how well did you know Lews Therin?" Corey noted the change; recognizing the fondness with which her father spoke of his old friend, Coriel had discarded the title and used Lews Therin's name, out of respect for her father's memories.

Corey smiled again. "I knew him quite well, daughter. Lews Therin was my dearest friend, like a brother. In fact, for a time we thought we would actually be brothers-in-marriage. You were named for his half-sister Ariel; that is her ring you wear. I loved her more than anything -- and I lost her." He could hear again those final words Ariel had woven of saidar into the paperweight he still carried with him everywhere. "For what it's worth, dear one, I loved you well." It had been worth... everything. Taking a breath, he continued. "Lews Therin raised me above all the other Servants and named me his Second in Command." Corey smiled wryly at Coriel's shocked intake of breath. "Are you surprised to hear that your father none other than the infamous Corey Soren Rosmani, thought to be rotting on the slopes of Shayol Ghul? Your mother will confirm it if you want."

Corey laughed as his daughter just shook her head, speechless. Her look of statement was almost comical. "Close your mouth, dear; you'll attract flies." He grinned down at her fondly, and then began wrapping up his tale. "Your mother and I decided it best to let the world think I was dead. The news that I was still alive certainly would not have helped anything, and I likely would have wound up burned at the stake in payment for what was happening." Corey laughed again, bitterly this time and shook his head, all traces of amusement gone. "I am rapidly being forgotten, even among the Aes Sedai. Maybe someday you will once again be able to use your proper name. All things must end." Noticing the rapidly setting sun, he added, "Including this tale. I think we have best get back to the camp before our traveling companions decide we've abandoned the wagon and start claiming our goods." He stood, offering a hand to assist Coriel. "Besides, your mother should be back soon and we don't want her to worry."

He looked over at the spot where he'd first seen the tombstone and to his surprise, he could see it there again. But this time, it had only the name, but a date as well. His jaw clenched as he read it; the madness would take control of him sooner than he thought. Perhaps it was time they parted company with their companions. "What is it, Papa?" Coriel asked softly, sensing something was wrong but not sharing his vision this time. "Nothing dearest, nothing at all. I am glad we got to have this talk today, though. Who can say what the future holds? I may have never gotten the chance to tell you, otherwise."

As they began walking along the narrow dirt track leading back to camp, Corey held his daughter's hand and felt the cool gold of Ariel's ring there. He fought the urge to cry; it was ending soon for him, but only just beginning for her. And she was still much too young... Managing to keep his voice steady, he said, "I've heard a rumor that there might be a village not far ahead. Maybe we'll be able to stay there for a while; people say there haven't been any upheaval here for a long time. Would that be nice?" Coriel grinned shyly in answer, and he smiled back down at her. "Run and find your brother, sweetling. It's time we were thinking about dinner." And as he watched her bound joyfully along the trail, he prayed that a Creator he only halfway still believed in would guard and guide her on the dark road ahead, after his time had ended.

Coriel al'Rosmani looked around the room at giggling, gossiping young women and sighed. They were all so young… or so it seemed to one who had watched the passage of three centuries. The entire world had been remade in her lifetime from its most basic foundations on up, but girls were still girls whatever their potential to become something more and the lighthearted chatter of this group was beginning to annoy her. 'Light preserve me' she thought wryly. 'I've become a crotchety old woman after all!' She rapped sharply on the podium before her and an expectant silence fell over the room.

Thirty pairs of bright, eager eyes fixed intently on her as she began to speak. "Good morning Novices. I am Coriel Sedai, and I will undertake over the course of the semester to teach you something of the history of the Servants of All, the Aes Sedai. If you would presume to become one of us, you must first understand where we came from. Now, can anyone tell me who was the first Aes Sedai?"

Silence. Several girls squirmed uncomfortably on their chairs while the rest simply stared at Coriel as if SHE might have been the first Aes Sedai. And to their eyes, she grudgingly admitted to herself, she probably looked old enough. Her red-gold hair had long since gone silver and her skin had that peculiar translucency only the very old achieved. By current standards she was ancient, having been born three hundred winters ago on this very day in the midst of the Breaking. Of course in her parents' day, 300 would barely have been past middle age. Corey Soren Rosmani had been older than that by several decades on the day the madness took him at last and had still looked to be a man in his prime, hard and fit. Coriel had only been a child then, but she remembered her father well. And her mother Rowaine had been closing in on six centuries when she'd finally passed into the Light. The world had changed indeed.

“Does no one care to even give it a try?" she asked the class a bit acerbically. Each year it seemed the girls came to the Hall still more ignorant of the history of the world than the last dismal crop. Gleemen reported being harassed and even beaten for singing the old songs and telling the old tales. People want to forget, the gleemen said, and so they made up new songs. So much knowledge was being lost, even here in the Hall. Of course here it was being lost deliberately. Coriel was still not reconciled to that; neither were the few others of her generation who remained. But the decisions had been made and Coriel had not yet grown so weary of living that she would openly defy the Hall like Lideine. What a price SHE had paid!

A glimmer of motion broke Coriel's private reverie. One tentative hand had been raised. Coriel acknowledged the girl, a pertly pretty little brunette, with a brief nod. "Yes? Your name first please, then your answer." The girl stood and dipped a correct, if brief curtsey. "Kyriara a'Mabrielle Jacena, Coriel Sedai. Would… would the… D-d-dragon have been the first Aes Sedai?" Coriel suppressed the disgusted snort she was inclined to make. Not their fault they'd been brought up in ignorance she reminded herself, wincing inwardly at the note of fear and loathing in the girl's voice. The Hall bore as much blame for that as anyone else. She forced herself to smile at the girl then waved her back into her seat. "Lews Therin, the first Aes Sedai?" She deliberately used his given name in a casual, offhanded way. Her father's best friend had been a man and not the monster he was now painted as, yet each year the stories grew more and more bizarre. Coriel had no doubt that within another generation or two The Dragon would become a synonym for The Dark One. Thus were myths created.

"No; although he was certainly one of the greatest of us he wasn't anywhere near the first Novice Kyriara," Coriel continued. "Actually it was a trick question. No one knows who the very first Aes Sedai was. His or her name has been lost in the mists of time. For as far back as anyone knows there have been Aes Sedai. Some say that when Ad'dam and Evaine first walked in the Gardens of Eternal Delight an Aes Sedai walked with them, guiding their steps and serving them. There have always been Aes Sedai and Light willing there will always BE Aes Sedai, the Servants of All."

She let them digest that bit of trivia for a moment. Kyriara's hand went up again. "Yes, Novice Kyriara?" "Your pardon, Aes Sedai, but if Ad'dam and Evaine had a Servant to guide them how did they come to fall from grace and leave the Gardens? Shouldn't an Aes Sedai have kept them in harmony with the Light?" "An excellent question!" Coriel praised the girl, meaning it, and marked her out as one to watch. Each semester Coriel tried to pick out a girl or two who showed more insight and curiosity than her peers. Those girls received a few lessons that were not exactly part of the official curriculum. Coriel stretched her oaths as far as she could take them. She could endure a little pain for the sake of truth.

"We are the servants of all, not the masters of all," Coriel continued. "We can offer advice or assistance but we cannot force others to make use of either one. To attempt to do so would be a gross misuse of the gifts we have been granted by the Creator." Another hand shot up, a willowy blonde with an arrogant cast to her face. Coriel nodded permission. "I am Deiglan Meraighdin, Coriel Sedai," the girl said, making the barest sketch of a curtsey until Coriel's cool stare shamed her into a deeper obeisance. Upon rising, the girl asked, "What then is the purpose of power, if not to use it? Surely the Creator gave us these abilities that we might better lead those poor ungifted souls? We are the best suited for leadership by virtue of our gifts, which make us most like unto the Creator. It is our divine right to rule."

Coriel was horrified. There had been whisperings of that sort ever since the Second Hall had been formed but never had it been spoken so openly. No one had dared. Not even a hundred years ago to be known as Aes Sedai was to court banishment, stoning, or worse among the villages and towns. For it had been Aes Sedai wielding the One Power in madness and agony who had broken the world, and the commons made no distinction between male and female. Aes Sedai were treated with fear and suspicion still and had to tread carefully. Talk like this would be their ruin. Coriel remembered vividly the purges of her childhood, remembered how many of her playmates perished at the end of a rope for the "crime" of being born gifted. Gradually calm and order had been restored to the world, and Aes Sedai had been slowly and carefully rebuilding their place within the new society. But talk like this, if it got around, could undo the work of two generations. To go back to that nightmare…

"Nothing could be farther from the truth, dearie," Coriel managed to say calmly. "Such an odd notion! Where did you say you were from? It must be remote indeed for such fancies to take hold." She strove for a tone of amused indulgence, such as one would use on a somewhat dull-witted child who could not be expected to know any better. She must have succeeded; the girl's face flushed an ugly red and her jaw set stubbornly as she retook her seat. Some of the other girls were tittering softly, clearly enjoying Deiglan's discomfiture. With that arrogance it was likely she'd made few friends in the novice quarters. So much the better, she thought. Light forbid the whelp should gain any support for such a repugnant belief. "All right, let's settle down class," she continued, allowing a tiny smile to touch her lips. "After all that is why you are here, to learn. And learn you shall, of the events great and small which have made us what we are today. The origins of the Aes Sedai as far back as we know them; the rise and fall of the Hall of Servants; the Shadow, the Breaking, and the Dragon; all these and more you shall study. And in the course of that study you will come to see why Novice Deiglan's notion is not only folly, but quite possibly fatal as well."

There was an awed silence at that and even Deiglan looked somewhat thoughtful. As Coriel watched her reaction, she felt her father's gift stir within her. Corey Soren Rosmani had been possessed of the Fortelling to an unusually strong degree and Coriel had inherited a small measure of it from him. Her own few Foretellings had been quite brief but fairly clear. This one was no exception. In a matter of seconds it had come and passed. She saw a woman who looked astonishingly like Deiglan wrapped in a shawl that dripped blood, trying to leash a great hawk. The hawk stooped upon her face, rending it, while a man of shadows with burning eyes looked on and laughed. The hawk broke free of its leash and the wind of its wings nearly toppled a huge ivory tower. Coriel recognized it as the very tower the Hall had recently commissioned, the one being called the White Tower. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, Coriel made Deiglan Meraighdin the second entry in her mental ledger of girls to watch, although for a different reason than Kyriara. A dangerous girl was this Deiglan, with dangerous notions and a dangerous future.

The remainder of the class passed without incident. Course outlines and reading lists were distributed, expectations regarding attendance and deportment were spelled out, and grading scales were explained. Three quarters of the hour had passed and all the routine mechanics of a new semester were taken care of. An eager, expectant hush fell over the girls. They knew what would come next, everyone did. It had become a part of the lore of the Hall already. Coriel smiled in earnest and said the words they were all waiting for.

"I'm sure most of you have heard about my custom for ending the first session of this class with a chance for you to ask me three questions. No topic is out of bounds and I swear to answer truthfully. The questions must be answerable with a simple 'yes' or 'no'. I will elaborate or not as I choose. Should a question violate the terms of my oaths of service, I will allow an alternative question in its place. Choose three among you and ask." Three young women rose immediately: Kyriara; a studious-looking redhead named Lorelle; and to Coriel's disgusted annoyance, Deiglan. Each held a sheet of paper on which were written questions the class had apparently agreed upon. She wondered if this class would show any more imagination than the last few. "Okay then, who is first?"

Lorelle cleared her throat nervously. "Did you really know the Dragon, Coriel Sedai?" A perennial favorite; because of her age and family background, people assumed she had known him. She was never entirely sure whether people hoped she would answer yes or no. "No, I never knew him. He was a friend of my father's, but had long since perished before I was born. Next question." A disappointed murmur went through the class; they'd been hoping for an affirmative then, and maybe some story. Kyriara took a deep breath. "Is it true, Coriel Sedai, that you advocate vows of chastity among the Aes Sedai?" The girl blushed rosily as she asked and Coriel half choked on laughter. At least this was a new one, though. And she could see why it would be of such pressing interest to a group of teenage girls. She wondered where this rumor had started and how her true views had gotten so distorted. "No, not by a long shot. It is true that I think Servants should remain aloof from romantic entanglements and refrain from marriage, but the Creator made us with certain needs. To deny those would be ludicrous." A relieved sigh followed that answer. "Okay, last question."

Deiglan shot her a look of pure venom as she disdainfully set aside her list. "These are trivial questions conceived by trivial minds. Let us ask something of substance. Coriel Aes Sedai, did you in fact murder your own son as he slept in his bed? Remember, you agreed to answer truthfully." A horrified gasp swept through the room. This was one of the darkest rumors whispered from cell to cell in the dead of night. No one had ever dared to ask that question of Coriel herself until now. Every eye in the class was locked on Coriel as she replied. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. You may all be seated now."

"But… how COULD you?!" Kyriara blurted it out, then quickly covered her mouth with her hands as if she would stuff the words back in again. Coriel gave her a sad smile. "How could I do something so awful, you mean? It is a long story and the period is over. But, if you wish to hear it…" Not a single girl moved from her place as the bell rang. Coriel pulled her own chair from out of the corner and sat in it at the front of the class. She paused a long moment before beginning her tale.

"To really understand how this came to be you'd have to understand some of what the world was like before the Breaking, before it all changed. My mother lived in that time and told me a great deal about it before she died. And it was the women of her generation to whom my contemporaries and I looked, as models of what Aes Sedai should be and how they should live. In the Age before the Bore it was common for Aes Sedai to marry and have families. True, Servants most often married among themselves and their children were often fostered out, especially if they were ungifted. The Dai'shan Aiel took many such children as their own and in this way the bonds between the Aiel and the Aes Sedai were strengthened over the generations. But in most ways, Aes Sedai were like everyone else. They had occupations other than Servant, they fell in love, they married, and they raised families, kept homes. They lived far longer than those who did not touch the Power, of course, because using the True Source slows our metabolic rates and expands our lives. This is still true today, although our spans do not approach what they were before."

Coriel had to bite her lip at this point to keep from railing against the oaths that depleted their life spans, and to what purpose? To keep the commons from fearing them? They were feared and despised anyway, no matter what they swore, and the binding bled away their years. Coriel knew her own time was nearly gone and after she was in her grave, who would be certain the truth of the past was not lost? The futility of it all made her bitter. "Then it all changed. Saidin was contaminated during the sealing of the Bore and because of that the whole world was altered, although Mother said that no one knew it yet. Not until the men started going mad. Oh, Lews Therin and his companions went insane on the spot and committed unbelievable atrocities, but most believed that to be the result of their battle with the Dark One. Then the remaining male Servants started reporting that saidin felt different, somehow. Unclean. But still no one really saw what was coming. Would that they had; so much tragedy might have been prevented."

Her audience sat in rapt silence, hanging on to every word. This was a history lesson they would never read in a book; this was Rowaine Sedai's personal observation of a time she had lived through, passed to her daughter Coriel and now to them. The immediacy of it caught them up and held them as no textbook ever could. "All too soon though, it became apparent that no man who could channel was safe," Coriel went on. "Mother said the sisters tried everything they could think of to cure the madness but nothing worked. Men took refuge in the steddings but that only delayed the inevitable. Women entered into semi permanent links with their afflicted brethren hoping that saidar, being clean, might buffer the taint. But the men went insane anyway, and the women bonded to them as well. Eventually our brethren, the male Aes Sedai, broke the world in their efforts to escape the nightmares inside their own minds. And the women alone remained to carry on the work of the Servants." Coriel sighed deeply and shook her head ruefully. "But they still didn't understand the extent of the change. Not yet."

"Eventually the men started dying and the terror of the Breaking began to lessen. By the time I was born, the worst of the geologic disasters were over. There would still be more than a hundred years of sporadic upheavals until the last male Servant perished, but life slowly began to regain some order. People began to rebuild, to create new social structures to replace what had been lost. And the women who had been Aes Sedai tried to live normal lives again too. That was all we wanted - just normal, ordinary lives." Coriel's voice broke slightly here. Even after so many years, it still hurt. "I was only twenty when I met Garron. He was three years older, a soldier, and as handsome as something from a gleeman's tale. From the moment he rode into the square of the village I lived in, I was lost. To my amazed delight he seemed just as taken with me, and soon we were inseparable. At Beltane he gave me a flower crown and we were wed. No one thought anything of it, least of all me. Mother was delighted and adored Garron. In two years time I had presented him with a son, Gareth, and I was as happy as anyone could ever hope to be. I thought it would last forever."

Her mouth felt dry and she cleared her throat twice. To her surprise Deiglan rose and fetched her a goblet of cool water. She accepted it gratefully, drank, and continued. "It was a good ten years before we started to realize what was happening. Garron was thirty-five and strands of gray were beginning to appear in his sandy hair, lines and creases were forming around his mouth and eyes. He was starting to age… and I was not. I was still just as I had been on our wedding day, untouched by the years. Other Aes Sedai were facing the same situation, and it was then that we began to understand the full import of the taint on saidin. Not only had it robbed us of our teammates and partners in the Power, stripping us of the ability to perform our greatest works, it had also robbed us of the only potential mates that could match our long life spans. We were doomed to either lose the men we loved too soon and spend most of our lives as grieving widows, or resign ourselves to solitary lives. At first we decided it was better to love while we could and pay the price later. Then, our children started growing up."

Coriel could see by the looks on the girls' faces that most of them had never considered this aspect of being Aes Sedai before. The commons were envious of their greater spans and never thought of what it meant in terms of loss. Coriel knew sisters who had outlived their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren in addition to several spouses. Outsiders could never understand that the aloofness shown by so many Aes Sedai was simply a defense mechanism. It hurt too much to get close to those who were going to die so soon. And there was worse even than just watching the people you loved grow old and die. Oh, yes, there was far worse than that. She took a sip of water and went on.

"Again, you must understand that it was different once and we were still basing our life choices on how it had been for our mothers. The ability to channel whether instinctive or learned is a heritable trait. So when Aes Sedai tended to marry one another there was a greater chance that their children would have the gift. But frequent use of the power also makes us less fertile, and many Aes Sedai were dedicated to their studies and had little time for children anyway. So children were born to us far less often than to the ungifted and the majority of them had the talent. Those few who did not have the gift were taken in among the Dai'shain Aiel as their own, given new names and placed in service far away from their birth parents, which were content in the knowledge that their offspring were given lives of happiness, honor, and service. Our mothers had no experience with watching their children grow old and die any more than they had had with spouses. But even watching a child age and whither would have been better than what many of us faced."

The sun was beginning to cast long shadows as it sank into the west and the bell for the first sitting of dinner rang; yet no one stirred. The girls were rooted in place by Coriel's words. Never before had any of them heard such intimate details of what life had been like during those terrible days following the War, when the world was being broken and remade. Although it was still impossible for them to truly understand what it must have been like to find all the truths you had ever been taught set aside almost overnight, Coriel was giving them a taste of it. In later years every one of those girls would become powerful among the councils of the Aes Sedai, and much of the policy that would come to govern them was shaped by the words they heard this day.

"Now as I said, the gift is passed from the parents to the children and more often if one or both parents has the ability. Except that for male children, it was no longer a gift." Coriel paused and took another sip of water. When she continued her voice was softer, more intense. "Gareth was in his early twenties when the headaches began. Garron was then in his late forties and strangers had begun to take him for my father, thinking I was Gareth's sister and not his mother. But between us it had changed nothing. We still loved each other to distraction and he often joked how fortunate he was to have a wife who stayed young and beautiful for his delight. I suppose in the backs of our minds we both knew that someday it would come to matter but it didn't yet. Gareth had grown into a fine young man and we were so very proud of him. When the headaches first started we didn't think much of them. They passed quickly enough and although they did seem to be growing in intensity, Gareth kept up with a normal life. He had begun walking out with a pretty girl from the village and we expected there would be a marriage offer any time. The idea of grandchildren thrilled Garron and I since we'd never managed to have more children after Gareth. As it turned out, I now thank the Light I never conceived again."

Coriel's gaze was distant as she spoke, as if she were seeing those people and places now long gone and not the novice classroom in which she sat. There was no mistaking the pain etched across her features. Except for her voice, the room was so quiet you could have heard a butterfly's wing beats. "One evening Gareth had taken Lynliss to a dance. Garron and I were having a quiet night alone, just watching the stars and enjoying one another's company. It was one of those warm, very humid summer evenings and we saw flashes of heat lightning out over the fields. We were just talking about how much we wished it would storm in truth and break the heat when Lynliss ran up. She was sobbing and shouting that something had happened to Gareth and looked as though she'd been through a battle. Her hair was matted, her dress torn and soiled. And her eyes… she was terrified, near hysterical. Garron and I ran after her and she led us to Gareth, lying in a cornfield, shrieking and clutching his head in extreme pain. All around him the land was blackened and torn as if by lightning strikes."

The girls had already realized where the story was going and a mixture of horror, loathing, and in a few cases pity was painting itself across their faces. Coriel's voice was very quiet as she went on. "I knew immediately what it meant, of course. I am Aes Sedai; I could not fail to recognize the signs of a man who can channel when they were thrown right in my face. And in that moment I truly knew what pain was. My only child, the son who had grown under my heart, the light of my eyes and the joy of my soul was doomed to go mad and die an agonizing death. And in the process he would become a monster in the eyes of the world, a rabid dog capable of inflicting Light alone knew what damage and destruction before his body rotted around him. You cannot know what I felt right then. Pray the Light you never do."

Coriel's voice was thick now with unshed tears and old, unhealed pain. "I tried to sever him on the spot. He fought me at first, and I could not have done it had Garron not clouted him on the back of the head with a stout stick and knocked him unconscious. Even then it was a tremendous drain on me for he was strong; oh, Light but he was strong! We somehow convinced Lynliss that Gareth just had the falling sickness and that the lightning had just been ordinary summer lighting. Only a coincidence, we told her. I'm not ashamed to say that I helped the process along with the One Power. Gareth would have been torn to pieces if anyone had known the truth, and likely Garron and I along with him. It was still very dangerous to be known as Aes Sedai, and the One Power is not proof against an angry mob. That had already been proven many, many times. We got Gareth home, took Lynliss to her parents and told them our amended version of what had happened. I wove more threads of subtle Compulsion that night than I care to count, but what else could I do? He was my son… my baby…"

Tears were streaming openly down Coriel's face by this point. The novices sat still as statues, many of them weeping as well. "It was not that hard to keep up the pretense of an illness, really. Gareth seldom left his bed after that. He had lost all will to live and was wasting away. He would lie in his room, face turned toward the wall, sobbing. Sometimes I would see that particular look of concentration cross his face and know he was reaching for the Source. And then he would cry out and curse me for what I had done to him, for what I had made him, before retreating into silence and sobbing once more. He lived like that for about a month and then one day, I came in to feed him and he was sitting up waiting for me. 'Mama' he said, 'please don't make me live this way. Please, Mama. Make it stop.' And then he curled back up in a ball and began that awful keening again. And I knew then what I had to do. I had made him what he was; it was my duty to grant him peace."

There was a long pause before Coriel could make herself speak again. “That night, when both my husband and my son were sleeping, I slipped quietly into Gareth's room. In his sleep, his face was serene and innocent again and he looked almost like the happy, loving boy he had once been. I leaned over and kissed his brow and drew on the One Power. Just then he opened his eyes and looked up at me and I nearly pulled back, but he just smiled for the first time in over a month. 'Thank you Mama' he said. 'I love you.' He closed his eyes and was still smiling when I stopped his heart. I went back to my room and lay down in my bed and Garron very quietly asked me if it was done. I should have known he'd know; there had never been any secrets between us. I said that it was and asked if he could ever forgive me. His answer was 'I would not have not forgiven you if you'd left it undone. That is no way for a man to live.' Then he held me the rest of the night while I wept and cursed the Creator for making me what I was, for making Gareth what he had been."

For a while Coriel said nothing more. The class sat in stunned silence trying to absorb all she had told them. Then Coriel sighed deeply, took a long draught of water and began speaking once more. "Garron died the following spring. That month aged him ten years, I vow, and the whispers afterwards another twenty. No one ever seemed to guess Gareth could channel, but when we reported his death there were many who said I killed him because he became a burden. Garron knew the truth but hearing me slandered so wounded him deeply. He loved me to the end and I miss him still, for all it has been more than two hundred years. Many other sisters of my generation went through similar tragedies, and I helped sever the sons of a more than a dozen of my friends over the next twenty years or so. We had learned the price of trying to be ordinary and seen that it was too high."

"You have asked me if I believe Aes Sedai should take vows of chastity," Coriel went on very softly. "If I thought it reasonable to expect people to keep those vows, I'd insist on it. We are not like other people. The things that bring them fulfillment and joy - home and hearth, marriage and children - now bring us only anguish. If you desire a man, by all means lay with him; enjoy all the pleasures the Creator made our bodies to feel. But do not let yourself love him, for soon he will fade and die. And take care that no children should come of your joining, lest you breed a monster you yourself will some day need to slay. Set aside all thoughts of love and family, for those feelings will betray you. Such things are no longer for us. The world has changed and we must change with it. We are the last of the Aes Sedai, and only our bonds with our sisters shall endure."

Coriel rose from her chair then and wrapped her pain and dignity around her like a cloak. Outside, the first faint stars were beginning to shine in the twilight sky, a promise of beauty to come. "Welcome, Novices, to the ancient and honorable order of the Aes Sedai. May the Light shine upon your service and the Creator grant you the strength to walk our path. Class is dismissed." The traditional closing words of a first class now held a subtly different meaning for this group of novices as they filed slowly out of the door. Deiglan Meraighdin paused at the door. "Aes Sedai, I thank you for the lesson. You have given me much to think on." She curtseyed deeply then left.

And Coriel, thinking of the Fortelling and the trembling of the White Tower, wondered suddenly if that really was a good thing. The world had changed; perhaps Elisane was right after all. She closed the classroom door firmly behind her and went to her study to prepare for tomorrow's novice lessons. Looking over her notes, she took up a pen and resolutely crossed several items out.

The End by Donna
All Things Must End by Todd
Novice Lessons By Donna