Darian's Raising
written by Darian Gedwyn
The First Arch
After entering the first Arch, Darian lost all feeling of time and place. The first thing he noticed again was that he was sitting. And the second thing was that the seat wasn’t standing very stable.
Slowly, the environment became clearer to him. He was riding a horse. Along him rode other people. Soldiers… He felt something about his hair. It was back in the traditional Shienaran haircut.
He rode along, silently with the others.
While still in Shienar, Darian, no, Seigan! Where had that other name come from? Seigan had been part of a special group of soldiers who’s task it was to guard the blight! In fact, that was the task of every Shienaran soldier, but an elite corpse was formed many years ago to guard it constantly. They were the ‘Guardians of the Blight. Or, in popular language, the Wolves of the Blight. This nickname dated back till the early years of the corpse and no one knew why people chose to compare them with wolves. Maybe because they were (and still are) fierce warriors. Their First Division Captain (The one in charge of all other captains) had sent their squad – his squad, because some time ago he was promoted to ‘Third Division Captain’ – on a routine patrol in some of the areas near the blight.
He looked around and noticed a bunch of rocks… Something felt wrong. Something was wrong, and it had to do with those rocks… Suddenly, a vision of a dead Third Division flashed in front of his eyes. He couldn’t explain why, but he knew this was serious. It didn’t feel like a vision, more like a long-lost memory. He acted appropriate to the situation.
“Lieutenant.”
“Yes, my captain?”
“Behind those rocks, an ambush. Spread the word.”
“Yes, my captain.” The man didn’t waste time trying to figure out how in the name of the light his captain could know this. He just spread the word. The wolves were well trained. They kept behaving as before, no one even touched his sword. Third Guardian Division Captain Seigan Orikanu nodded as he let his gaze flow over his man. I won’t let you all be killed without leading you all in the embrace of the Mother. He looked around and saw the men’s faces. His men, his companions, his comrades, his friends! Their faces looked serene, just like him they were hardened men. No other warrior in Shienar had more right to call himself ‘hardened’ then Wolves. All of them had black hair, Icy eyes that looked as weak as a fifty-fold forged and Heron-marked greatsword and a calm look on their faces.
In the real world, they hadn’t known about the ambush, nor had they found any traces warning them about it. Even though they always were very cautious, they hadn’t known that time! They had been killed! All Seigans friends, the friends riding along him with their icy eyes and their serene looks… they were killed. By trollops and Myrddraal… Stumped in their cooking pots and eaten! All his friends, his comrades, his soldiers had died in a way he didn’t wish for his worst enemy. He had been spared, for some reason, by some unknown fate. He was left behind, considered dead. As he reported to captain Arutha, the man hadn’t been very pleased to hear this… So he had told Seigan he would better leave… on some faraway mission and had added it wouldn’t be regretted if he stayed away. Two days later, Seigan had signed up for a mission, lead by lord Ingtar and in the presence of a young, foreign lord. Trying to catch up with a bunch of shadowspan that had stolen something from the city of Fal Dara. Deep inside, Seigan had been longing to find death on his path.
This time was different. This time all his friends would survive. They were hardened fighters; they would survive! The serene faces rode along… to victory, not to death!
Flash! Suddenly, a gateway opened along the path. They were almost with the rocks. Darian had to decide quickly, if he held back, the whole squad would hold back. That would be noticed by the ambush, and they would be warned. Then maybe his comrades would still lose anyhow. Now they knew the ambush was there, but the ambush didn’t know they knew this. They couldn’t waste this advantage.
“Lead them on! I’ll see you later, but have to go now,” Darian/Seigan lied. He would never see them again, but know that somewhere they were alive. Somewhere, out of normal reality, but still somewhere… alive!
He drove his horse off the road, in the gateway!
Again, he lost all feeling of time and place. As he opened his eyes again, he noticed he was back in the cellar of the Grey Tower. The people were waiting for him. Covering his emotions with a blank face, he turned towards them.
The Second Arch
As he enters the second Arch, he lost all feeling of time and place. Impressions are flowing in slowly… Screams, rolling thunder, weapons clashing into each other, the sound of hooves. A battle! How did I end up in the middle of a battle?! Then it suddenly came to him again. He was Darian Gedwyn, he was in Cairhien and a bunch of barbaric Aiel was attacking the city again. Only then he noticed what he was wearing. Armour. And the item in his hand – yes, his hand – was a broadsword. His grip tightened. I might have past out for a moment, but I’ll prove you all wrong for not killing me during that moment! With one pull of his left hand, he took the enormous sword out of the ground and laid it on his shoulder. Relaxed, he walked across the battlefield. From one moment on another he was surrounded by Aiel. A spark lighted up in his icy eyes. “You might want to pray.” He warned the Aiel.
“It’s time for you to wake up from this dream, whetlander!” the Aiel shouted. The spears flashed near. The sword was lifted from his shoulder and began to spin around. It felt so comfortable and trusty it found its way all by itself. Darians mind was cool, clear and empty. A few moments later, the Aiel lay on the ground. The sword rested on his shoulder again.
As he came closer the heart of the battle, the enemies became more numerous, the number of casualties higher, battles tougher, his wounds deeper… On one moment, he was covered in the back by a number of cavalrymen. He himself was holding off a couple of warriors when suddenly he heard a scream. An Aiel spear killed the horse behind him. Its rider fell off and in its fall he hit Darian on the head with his helmet.
The world turned dark…
Ages later, he started feeling things. His ears brought him the sound of voices. He opened his eyes. The battle was still ongoing. I have to get away from here. I’m defenceless like this. But as he tried to get up, he noticed something heavy was holding him down. What in the world… He tried to recall what had happened. His memory failed him. His head still hurt too much. He reached back and felt steal… A body. Then it became clear to him.
I’ve been knocked out of conscious by that soldier. And now the bloody corpse is holding me down!
He looked around, his mind more clear already, trying to find a way out. The only thing he noticed was more problems. A bunch of Aiel was walking in his direction, one of them pointed at him. They came near and kneeled in front of him.
“You are the one that wields this sword?” The Aiel that was in the lead pointed towards his broadsword that lay a bit further. It must have fallen from his hand.
“Well, not for the moment as you can see.” Darian felt like being sarcastic.
“I’m having problems with this metallic bastard up here, so if you guys could give me a hand.”
“The sword is yours?” The Aiel ignored his words.
“Yes it is.” Darian wasn’t scared to take responsibility for his actions.
“Then you killed my first-brother.”
“If I did, it was because he wasn’t as good a warrior as I am.”
The Aiel couldn’t appreciate his pure logics. Instead, he took the knife from his belt.
“Maybe we should lower your skills!” In a swift move, he took Darians hand and twisted the arm behind his body. “We should cut some muscles. Maybe if you lose both of your thumbs, my first-brother would be a better warrior then this garbage.” The other Aiel nodded, the knife cut through his skin.
Deeper and deeper the Aiel knife cut through his hand, Darian lost control over his thumb. The muscles were cut.
Rage and burning despair filled his body! Adrenalin coursed though his veins… or was it something different? The Aiel suddenly seized moving, the pressure on the knife seized. Darian opened his eyes. The Aiel were staring, standing upright as statues; they had a strange expression on their faces. The one in front of him was staring at the sky, slowly as in a dream, he opened his mouth to scream. But no scream came from his throat. Instead, it remained silent. Darian arched an eyebrow. Then suddenly, a shooting flame gushed from the mans throat. Darian was shocked as he saw the body crumble and melt in front of his eyes. Now the first one had died, the others started to burn as well, only they did scream. High, desperate screams carved their way in his memory.
As all had died in one horrifying experience, he thought it all would end. But no! It wasn’t over yet. A spiral of clouds had formed in the sky and blue lightning was raging towards earth. Not one by one, but by dozens they stroke the earth, sometimes five at the same time at the same place. Using the adrenalin and powered by his despair, Darian managed to wriggle away from under the corpse.
Bewildered and unarmed, he walked around in the lightning-stuck battlefield. Nowhere a sign of life was to be seen. Death was everywhere, grinning at him. His left are hung next to his body. It hurt like hell and the thumb was paralysed. Blood was dripping on the ground, but Darian didn’t notice.
He was too bewildered; he just placed his one foot in front of another as lightning struck all around him. For some reason, he was spared by death.
The sound of a horse made him look up. It had appeared on the top of a hill and was now running down in his direction. It was in complete panic and had thrown off his rider. Then suddenly, four or five bolts of lightning crashed down on the animal and it vanished in an explosion of flesh and debris. As the cloud of dust backed off, the hill was empty.
Darian stared at the hill for a long time, trying to decide if this was really happening or if this all was imagination…
What is happening? Has Sightblender broken loose? What Dark power is generating this much Death and Despair? Jak of the Shadows should be here in person!
All around him lay dead bodies. He even got a demonstration on how Death had spread. The lightning struck a pile of armoured bodies on the ground, travelled through all the metal armour and weapons around, made a jump to another pile and vanished from his sight. This was as worse as the inside of the Doom Pit!
Even death had its borders; no matter is Jak of the Shadows was there or not. Darian found this out when he reached the top of a hill. In front of him the battle continued just as if nothing had happened. Maybe they didn’t even know. He looked back and his knees weren’t strong enough to hold him. Slowly, he sank on the ground and stared at the fields of death in front of his eyes. From time to time, a volley of bolts rushed down to earth before exploding in a cloud of dust.
The thought that he had done this appeared in his head; all out of nowhere. He was surprised by the idea and smiled about it.
How could I?
…
Did I do this?
…
No! There is no way…!
…
…Is there…?
It came to him. He was sure about it! The answer to it all flashed through his mind! And its consequences… It all seemed like visions, but somehow he knew they were true.
Exile, Shame, Loneliness, another search for Death… His whole future passed in front of his eyes. Why wouldn’t I end this? All of this? In Shienar, Channelers were mature enough to kill themselves. They knew they would cause the nation problems, and in order to prevent this, they killed themselves or left home never to return. Most of them walked unarmed into the Blight. So if I kill myself, all this misery will be over. And I will die an honourable death…
A flash behind him made him look up. Be steadfast. The way back comes but once! Suddenly he remembered a lot of things. He was Soldier at the Grey Tower, on his way to be tested as Dedicated. He had killed these Aiel. He could live beyond as an Asha’man of the Grey Tower. He looked back to the field of Death.
…or he could die right here and right now. He was in doubt. On his way to the Tower, and during his time as a Soldier he had doubted many times if he hadn’t better died. And now… he looked back. Now he had the choice: live beyond with a total new life, as an Asha’man; or die honourable and leave it all behind. It all came back to his view on Saidin: was it his gift, or his curse? He knew the gateway wouldn’t be there forever…
Gift or Curse… The gateway started to slink. Gift or Curse? The lightning flashed. Live or Die? The gateway slank. GIFT OR CURSE!!
The arch flashed; Darian walked out slowly; as someone who has taken a huge decision. His eyes had lost their misty glance and looked a lot clearer now. A load was lifted of his mind. His left thumb was finally healed by the present yellow Ajah member.
The Third Arch
Darian stood against the wall. He wore common clothes; made from good wool; and over them he wore a long coat. Not the one Asha’man usually wore, one of lighter colour. The rest of his outfit was dark blue without any decoration. He wasn’t at the Tower. He was in a small village somewhere around Tar Valon. Therefore he had disguised and wore his Grey Tower rank signs on the collar of his shirt instead of on his coat. The people ran to the middle of some kind of square; there was a small riot on whatever it might be that disturbed the people of such tiny villages. He was looking for someone. And in the middle of this riot, the might appear from whatever house or alley he was hiding in, trying to escape in the fuss.
He would never use the OP with me at such a close range. And not this close to Tar Valon.
Suddenly, he saw a man walking in the opposite direction as the crowd. Bingo! I’ve found my prey. He stayed still in the shadow of the balcony on the first floor of he building he leaned against and waited till the person had passed. He didn’t look up, and the other passed him without even looking in his direction. In his mind he counted up to ten, then turned around and walked away. The man couldn’t be this far. If he just weren’t that small. Being 6 feet tall, Darian was easy to recognise, so he had to stay on a distance. He walked in the middle of the road, so if he would chose a cross road, of would try to disappear into an alley, he would probably notice. And on the other hand, the man wasn’t doing any effort to hide his ability to channel, whereas Darian did. So he had a global idea of where his prey was.
Suddenly, the man entered a building. Darian passed it and walked into the next alley. Through some back yards and garden-gates he reached the garden of the house. As still as a mouse he opened the door and entered. The hall was empty. Slowly he crossed the empty hall and entered the first room on the left side. It was a sitting room. His hand released the grip of the Katana as he saw the room was empty as well. He looked around, but then heard footsteps approach in the hall. He took position next to the door. It went open and an unknown man entered. There was no time to be mister nice guy. These people were dangerous darkfriends. The sword flashed and before the guy had all well entered the room, the Katana had already slashed his head off.
It took him only second to notice the man he had followed up to here was still standing in the hallway. And he noticed as well the man was armed. He had drawn to little swords. They looked very similar to the Katana he was wielding, but as said they were smaller and thus more mobile. A third thought followed immediately; telling him the man was holding Saidin. A lot of Saidin! And that man grinned at him.
“So you made it all the way here, Soldier Darian Gedwyn.”
“Time passes, it’s been too long,” Darian replied. “It appears I’ve even achieved the rank of Asha’man in the meantime.” He didn’t take the effort of revealing his dragon pin to prove his rank. And the other needed no more proof then Darians word.
“So you have… Then maybe we should have a Saidin duel instead of one with these inferior splinters of metal.”
“If you say so…”
The man grinned. “Why not do it here? In the middle of this town. It would have the effect of a wildfire in an orphanage.”
Darian shivered. The bleeding bastard is planning to involve dozens of innocent people! He quickly opened a gateway to a field, miles away from the town.
“Let’s fight there.” The other shrugged his shoulders.
“If you say so…” He stepped though the gateway without any hesitation, confident Darian wouldn’t let the gateway collapse while he walked through it.
Standing on the little field, Darian and Sidoran took position. Darian reached for Saidin too, building up a strong connection and eventually Channeling some Power to his surroundings. Sidoran had sheathed both of his short swords and let Saidin rage freely.
“All right! Here it goes!” Sidorans yell ripped the silence apart. He immediately Channelled a complex weave of Spirit and some threads of Fire to catch Darians attention. The weaves of Spirit were the real danger, being a strong Shielding. Darian used a weave he liked a lot: Illusion!!
He immediately inverted the weaves, rendering them invisible to Sidoran and turned himself to a blur, immediately jumped back. Meanwhile, he created four Doppelgangers and sent them away in four different directions. The Shield held still in midair; Sidoran had lost sight of the target. The streams of Fire on the other hand just took one target each and split up.
Quick moving with Illusions was complicated and took a lot of effort, especially since he had to think about his Folded Light as well. When the fire struck, Darian let go of three of the four Doppelgangers and let the last remaining one jump away. One of the beams of Fire hit the ground close by and the rain of debris and splinters of rock scratched his face. A small stream of blood dropped down his face. As he unsheathed his sword, he let the Illusion do the same and both of them attacked Sidoran at the same time. He himself being easy to miss, Sidoran turned to the copy… and held in.
Folded Light didn’t require a lot of Power, and the weaves were pretty simple. Because of that, even Channelers often miss people that use Folded Light if they are at a bit of a distance. But now that Darian was approaching, the weaves became visible… or maybe the Dreadlord just felt something was not right. Anyhow, he turned right into Darians direction and let the Shielding snap down. Immediately, Darian was cut off from the Source. But since Sidoran couldn’t afford to sit back and see if he had guessed right, he turned so he could intercept the attack of the Doppelganger. As he noticed this one had disappeared, he grinned and turned towards Darian. The real Darian; the Shielded Darian. Darian, whose sword was about to make him a few inches shorter. The smile froze on his face and for a moment the shield was less strong then it had been.
But then Sidoran managed to get one of his swords in the trajectory of Darians blade. The clash sent shock through both of their bodies and Sidorans grip on the sword loosened. Darian took advantage from this situation by kicking for Sidorans head. The boot his the man straight on the cheek and Sidoran went down on his knees. The Katana came in and slode over the left arm of the Dreadlord. Somewhere it cut a muscle, glanced off on the bone of his upper arm and resulted in Sidoran dropping the little sword. Blood was gushing from the fresh wound.
Darian brought the sword in position for a final stab, and doubled up… The other short sword – the one he had completely forgotten about – was stabbed in his stomach. The world became foggy. He could still see the smile on Sidorans face through the mist that seemed to engulf him. In his panic he reached out for Saidin. He bumped against the Shield. He tried again… and again. No effect! The solid wall stood between him and Saidin, and wasn’t moving at all despite all his effort. He was gasping for breath and for a moment lost all connection with the world. He was on the verge of blacking out; but the intense pain in his abdomen brought him back to conscious.
Nerve-racking slow, he opened one eye. He noticed his opponent lying in a puddle of blood, trying to gather enough energy to stand up, or to grasp a bit more of Saidin. Both of them were exhausted. Darian because of his wound and his efforts to reach Saidin, Sidoran by his wound and his efforts to stop Darian. Darian was apparently in better physical condition then Sidoran, since he was the first to get up. Dizzy from pain, he tried to keep upright and looked for his weapon. He couldn’t find it, but that could be because the world became foggy at more then five feet distance. He stumbled a few paces, trying to find a weapon. Sidoran was still lying in the peddle of blood. Nice, I hit him harder then I thought. His belly hurt like it was on fire. He hit something with his foot. He looked closely and noticed it was a blood-stained short sword. He reached down to get it. After sustaining some severe pain, he managed to get hold of it.
Now I will do this without Saidin. No more cunning tricks and heavy weaves. Just the naked sword; as in the old days. Channeling Saidin has made my mind weak. I’ve relied on the bloody thing too much! He raised the sword and set a step towards Sidoran. Panic was spreading on the Dreadlords face. Darian managed to set another step.
“You know, you told me once…” Darian held in to take another deep breath and tried to ignore the burning feeling in his abdomen. “…that a lot of Channelers… use the One… One Power for… nothing mo…re then…” He almost fell down and had to make a huge effort to stay upright. The pain in his stomach make his head light and dizzy. “… then housekeeping. On that… time I thought… thought of them as… disgusting garbage. Since they were spilling…” He had to pause for a moment. “…the Power that… that I… was dying to feel.”
The talking had exhausted him and he fell down on his knees, still holding the sword as if it meant his life. He tried to crawl towards the enemy. Sidoran was watching him with unbelief. “But I ended up… doing the same… Being as much disgusting… as I had considered them… in the first place!” That was all the energy he had left. He fell down and dropped the sword. Sidoran came up a bit, decreased the power of the shield and weaved a column of Air. Planning to crush Darian with it, a morbid grin gave away his intentions. When he smached it down, Darian rolled sideward and at the same time pushed the Shield as hard as he could. It broke! Saidin was back… but it didn’t mean a thing. In his current condition, Channeling a big amount of Saidin mean great danger since he wouldn’t be able to fully control it. He grinned.
Now I decided I don’t need you do win, you’re suddenly back. Nice friend you are. He reproached Saidin.
Be steadfast. The way back comes but once! He looked up and suddenly he remembered. He had entered the Three arches Ter’angreal in the Grey Tower. He looked at Sidoran. Here he would be able to kill the man. Then he looked at the Gateway. There he could be healed. Memories of precious arches came to him. I can live in peace with my past now. I’ve had the choice between life and death and now I’ve decided I don’t need Saidin to work for me. He had already chosen for life, so now he had to respect that decision.
“I’ll kill you another time.” He said before he got up and stumbled towards the Gateway.
“Anytime you wish,” Sidoran answered down from his pool of blood. The world vanished in a blinding flash. Darian lost all sight of time and place…
