Ripple Six: True Purpose
written by The Dawn of Blood (NPC) and Drelle Tai'shar

This event between Drelle Tai'shar and the Dawn of Blood took place earlier that day, shortly after Drelle Tai'shar was knocked unconsious in the previous chapter. This might shed some light upon her earlier actions in this Chapter.

With his back towards the bed, the Dawn of Blood waited for the young woman to come awake.

No candles were lit, and the only source of light came through the narrow window to his right. The sun still shone outside... though by eventide... the Grey Tower would be struck by a storm unlike any in memory. The guestroom had not been used for some time, and dust drifted in the sharp light, though the sun did little to lighten the eerie darkness and the shadows surrounding him. Not a patient man, his anger began to coil when the woman remained still behind him. There is no time for this, he thought darkly, I need to know. Two short steps carried him to the room's waterbasin, which he had refilled himself. After carrying the Tairen lady there, he had felt sweat trickle down his back. Sweat disgusted him. He needed to be clean, else he might loose control. After scrubbing himself violently and tearing his spoiled shirt and undertunic to shreds, he had stood perfectly still while reclaiming control of his breath. His fine-boned hands picked up the basin and turned towards the woman. She was bound by feet and wrists to each bedpost, her hair spread out all over the pillow like a landscape. Now the basin came to use again, as he threw the water over her face and torso.

Only the side of his bare upper body was illuminated by the sharp light, and the monstrous red scar which crossed his chest diagonally from the hem of his black breeches to his left shoulder shone angrily, fitting his mood. His dark eyes, like pools of coal-oil watched her impassively. Her face paint had begun to run by the soap-water and the dark landscape of her hair had lost it's shine, which slowly escaped to the pillow. What?

He spoke, his voice low, almost a sharp whisper. "Who are you?" The soft sound shattered the silence like a sword-strike.

Waking with the a bitterly nasty flavour in her mouth that she vaguely recognized, she didn't know where she was. For a moment, she panicked, thinking she was back in that horrid tent, serving those Oberon chose, and being forced to do it. She let out a grunt as she tested the bonds, momentarily ignoring man and question. Her mind cleared enough for her to remember a flash of pain right after destroying the Dawn of Blood's letter. Oh, LIght, what cursed fool has pulled this new stunt? She looked around the darkened room, recognizing nothing. Next to her stood the man that she'd been watching out of the corner of her eye as she surveyed the place of her current capture.

Turning her attention to the man, she saw very little, and at the same time, much. She noted the jagged scar, and the empty black eyes. Cooly, she assesed the damages on her body. Besides a hefty headache and undoubtedly a lump on the back of her head, she appeared to be fine, as fas as she could tell. The contacts in her eyes burned a bit, but that happened when one slept in them. She could feel her cosmetics smeared and someaht washed away. The silver in her hair was beginning to show as well, as the other color faded away. She cursed quietly, then turned her head upward to look at the man standing half nude before her, "I answer to many names. Here at the Tower, and I'm assuming thats where I still am, they know me as Drelle Tai'Shar."

River of True Blood.. How little did she know how literal those words would become.

The Dawn of Blood held out the porcelain water basin to the side and deliberately dropped it.

The blue and white patterns around it were smashed apart, and the sound tore at the atmosphere of the room. The shards spread around his feet like those who served him. Drelle Tai'Shar, she say. If she spoke the truth, she served him as well. Or did she now? Let's see if there is iron in her claim to Eya Sedai.

"A Novice dressed like a lady," his words were spoken in the same hissing whispers as before. "A lady claiming to serve the lord of the grave." He remained by the foot of the bed, looking over her body in the eerie light. "And a steward of the Great Lord unsure if she remains the Novice or serve his master's purpose. Pending on your words, you might carry on with the duty I presented you."

His eyes could not help to trail the lines of her sodden dress. Dicipline... He knuckled his fists by his sides, the veins along his forearms shifting and the ropes of muscles straining against the imprisonment of his skin. "I am the Dawn of Blood. I can smell your blood, your reeking sweat and your pungent perfume. Your eyes are mirrors to your soul. Lies reek worse than you. If you lie to me, you will see your insides splattered across the ceiling before you bleed to death. Tell me... who do you serve, Novice of the Grey Tower?"

With eyes burning with anger, she strained slightly against her bonds, and met his eyes. She could see the animal lust in his eyes, knew that he needed the barest excuse, or none at all, to spill her blood, and cared not, "My purpose is to be the tool within the Tower to help bring about its destruction. I play at Novice because it seemed the most logical way to enter the Tower, and be unsuspected by these Light guided fools as a servant of darkness." A blinding flash of pain ripped through her eyes, and she knew she was that much closer to having the silver in them forever replaced by white. A tear she could not halt slipped down her cheek, yet her eyes remained clear. Nobody ever said turning evil would be painless.

With a voice as clear as her eyes, she finished, "The Dawn of Blood has no need to question my loyalty to him. He would see the reason for my having gone, in disguise, to the hiding place of my further instructions. What reason would a Novice with no known family have, for having been in the cemetary?" She met his black eyes defiantly, knowing well that just the look could mean her death. She would then, at least, meet death with her eyes open.

"You've seen my true face. Set me free these bonds, and I can prove I am Drelle, at the very least. Who else in the Tower has silver eyes ringed in white?" A dark brow lifted slightly as she waited in the heavy silence for his response.

Could it be?

The Dawn of Blood looked her over once more. height and gigure are the same. Could it be? "Maybe you tell the truth," he began after a second, "then maybe you don't. Hence I need to see those eyes." He walked around the foot of the bed and stepped to her right side... the hard angles of his face temporarily lit by the sharp sunlight. His eyes never left hers, and his face was expressionless... like a doll. With a measured movement, he leaned down and untied her right hand from the torn cloth.

Instead of walking back, he remained standing there, as a silhouette against the window and with his hands open by his sides.

Her eyes widened as she recognized the face. When her right hand slipped from the binding, she contemplated punching that beautiful face, but decided against it. He seemed a bit calmer now, which was good. She didn't want him freaking out and killing her. Not yet. She had plans to carry out.

With a practiced move, she withdrew the colored disks from both her eyes, flicked the now worthless things to the floor and looked up at him. White and silver eyes met black. She was surprised to find her body reacting to the close proximity of his, and clamped down on it best she could. It wouldn't do to be lusting after someone who would take as much pleasure out of gutting me as.. well..

His face did not change when she removed her faked eye-colour.

"There is no lady Meadra then. And you are no woman working for some Aes Sedai who got their hands upon the letters I sent you either. You are the Novice I saw leaving Eya Sedai's chambers this morning. And the disguise were meant to conceal our cause." His voice was less threatening... now like the scolding general instead of the hiss of a coiled snake. He watched her as she lay there, and a confused frown crossed his brow when he saw her reaction to his presence. She should be edging away from me. They all do before I open their throat with my teeth. Why does she not fear me like the rest? Indeed, her body reacted strangely. But he was convinced it was the cold water, for none could possibly think that way after seeing his ruined body.

He turned abruptly, clenching his fists. Dire deeds require dire means? Control he sought and found. Else there was no saying what could happen. His mind needed to remain keen this day. "I assume you read the note I saw you take from the weeping willow before you brunr it. Need you any further instructions? Do you have any questions."

So there is a soul somewhere in there. So used to reading people was she, that she did it automatically, and stored away the knowledge for future use.

"I fear little, but I do fear the cunning of the Amrylin's Warder. He is well trained in many ways. How do you suggest that I get around him to gain access to the Amrylin? I doubt they'll just let me in to see her." She sighed silently, wistfully. She almost wished.. almost. Stupid girl. He can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you? She lifted her chin to stare at his back, silently willing him to turn.

The Dawn of Blood chuckled deep down in his throat when the young woman mentioned the Gaidin Captain.

"Yes," he said, his eyes looking out the window. The sharp sunlight faded and vanished as the clouds which came form the horizon covered it. The winds began to blow harder. Soon the storm would come, and with it, the end of the Tower as they all knew it. "Caden Ives."

He turned to face her, not able to keep the slight amusement from his face. "He is a blind fool, and a fool which you won't need to fear. He is nowhere near the Amyrlin Seat. A little bird told me that he is deep down in the dungeons, he walked down there with two of the Yards not long ago. And I have the distinct feeling he won't resurface again," he crossed his arms across his scar, "the Amyrlin's Warder will not pose a problem anymore. I have made sure he knows enough to lure him away in the right direction, and little enough to make him think we don't know what he is thinking. As you might guess, there is a reason why I know how he thinks... Now only the drones remain to guard the Amyrlin, and it makes your task easier."

Then he noticed the way she was looking at him again, and his discipline faltered.

Suddenly he was half-sitting upon the bedside and his open hand had grabbed her throat and slammed her head against the bedpost. He held her head there, his ferocious grip tightening like a vise. Something in the pools of coal oil danced, and his face was a mask of sick hatred. "Do not tempt me. You do not know what you are playing with. You are replaceable, so there is no reason why I should not give in to my cravings. You will obey me in this, or you will know a fate worse than blissful death." He released her violently and yanked her up to his face with a grip upon the front of her dress. "Tell me your allegiance. Tell me whom you serve. Tell me your mission!"

I cannot afford to be ensnared. By the Great Lord I want to give n and have her, But I cannot!

She listened to his words on the Gaidin, and stored those away as well. She'd met the man a few times in the past, and would not like to cross swords or words with that man. She still couldn't channel, but it was slowly seeping back into her as she kept the Dawn busy, and the forkroot faded. Deceit was not usually her thing, but she was tired of being tied up.

She gasped as her head was slammed against the bedpost. The Dawn's face floated mere inches from hers, but she still showed no fear. Her ankles were almost free from her constant wriggling and moving, but the one wrist was still tightly bound, as she dared not try and loose it with him watching. With her free hand, she gently touched her fingertips to the wrist of the hand that held her by the dress, and whispered the words he wished to hear, "My mission is to capture the Amrylin, alive, by any means possible. I serve to bring the Tower to ruin, and to defeat the enemies of the one that I serve," she met his eyes fiercely, "You." Her bound wrist burned as the ropes cut into them, retracing old scars she got from similar ropes in her past. The bodice of the dress he gripped torn slightly to reveal the swell of her creamy breast...

...and the lashmark scars that laced it. When he saw them, she turned her face away, staring intently at the opposite wall, her lips tightly pressed together in what was almost shame.

Fighting for the control of his actions, The Dawn of Blood's eyes fell to the scarred skin exposed underneath him.

I have seen this before, he thought, remembering the subjects of great leaders in their midst... leaders who still remained below him. He knew names of these leaders; Senecal, Oberon and Tenoér were the three with the most influence. She bears the scars of her new birth, just like me. Yet hers was done by common means, while his rebirth had come to a higher price... yet a even higher gain. The Chosen who died and came again mere months back had created him from the flesh of an ignorant boy, by the use of his god-like powers. Nothing had remained the same for him since that day.

His heart was beating quite fast now and he had to tear away his eyes from her exposed skin. She looked away from him now when he stared at her, his dark eyes of coal-oil swirling. His frankness was a weapon to gain what he sought; and he could feel the beast take his mind in order for him to wield it. "Do you feel shame over your scars?" He asked her, his voice calm as a pond. "Now that I have seen them, I know you speak the truth. Moreover, they do not spoil you in any way. I have seen? the way you look at me. And even though you might think the scars robs you of my interest... as you belong to another... you are wrong. You interest me a great deal, Drelle Tai'shar. I just have to make my mind up in which way."

Releasing her dress, he cupped his hand under her chin instead, fixing her eyes upon his again. "As you are my servant now, I can take what I want. And I would never give it a second thought. But I have a feeling I won't have to take what can be offered willingly."

Her jaw clenched as he began to speak, then slowly unclenched as she listened to his words. When his hand cupped her chin and turned her face toward his, she looked up at him, eyes slightly wider than usual. The tip of an ugly pink scar showed where the bodice had torn, then fell carelessly.

Calculating the risk of being torn to shreds, or worse, rejected, she leaned up and caught that luscious low lip in a gentle nip, then ran the tip of her tongue over the slight hurt soothingly, "I don't doubt I can match you on any field of battle.." her voice was low and husky, and incredibly sensual as she whispered the few words.

"Let's see?" he said and violently pushed her down on the sheets again, "?if there is any truth in such a claim."

His face contorting into a savage mask of purpose, he tore her being free of her dress, yet left the bonds as they were to begin with. The demon in him took over, and the Dawn of Blood lingered longer than he had planed just to savour something rarely given to him. Somewhere... in the dark chasms of his tainted and charred heart... he found a sense of gratitude. Thus he injured her no more than he could restrain himself to do. And he found that in the end, it did not matter if he had.

She was lost in her own thoughts as he stood and dressed, yet he saw him look at her with lust again and smiled to herself. It is hard indeed to find a man who understands that I am not a gentle flower.. When he spoke, she looked up at him, and chuckled, "His name is Tan'qui. He is indeed a Light blinded fool, and fancies himself in love with me." She met his eyes fearlessly as she had since first waking not hours ago. She could feel the Source again and gloried in its increased power. She touched it and first burnt away her bonds, then Weaved herself a simple Novice gown to cover her nakedness, as there were no female clothes in the room.

"I fear he might cause a complication if he finds out that i'm not the innocent little Novice he thinks I am, but he shouldn't be too much trouble." She shrugged and stretched slowly, savoring the soreness and beginnings of bruises she could feel all over. She smiled at the Dawn, and crossed to him.

She got within inches of his body and whispered against his mouth, "I have work to do.." Then waited for him to unSheild the door, as she was sure he did.

The Dawn of Blood did not smile at her when she stepped close, instead his eyes grew hard.

She was dangerously close to step out of line. Insubordination was one thing he did not take lightly, however small the word or gesture. "So do I, servant. And before you leave, you will clean up this mess we've made." He began to button up his robe over his monstruos red scar and sweat-glistening chest. He was disgusted with the feeling of cloth against his damp skin. Since he had torn his undertunic and shirt to shreds earlier, he was bare underneath the garment which defined his rank. "I think we have the common interest that none will know what has happened here, don't you think? Hence you stay while I leave. In the roles that we play here in the Tower, neither of us would gain anything by punishment from some higher ranking fool."

When he had covered his bare torso with the robe, he stepped away with a quick glance towards her lips. "Burn the sheets and our clothes, and hide the shards of the basin," said the Dawn as he turned his back and made for the door. "Make sure none see you when you leave. If this Soldier of yours ever suspects anything, you are to kill him before he spreads the word. And should you fail on your mission, I will not be as... tender to you as I've been."

He turned at the door, and gave her one last look with his dark eyes, though they stirred not now as they saw her face. "Farewell, River of True Blood."

And thus the Dawn of Blood left through the door, and by his will and thought, it was safe to grip the handle again and sound carried as it should. His steps echoes down the hallway.

She sighed as she turned to rid the room of the shredded material and broken pottery. The sheets lifted on a small stream of air and burnt into nothingness, and the pottery was ground into a fine powder which she blew out the only window high on one wall in a stream that no one would ever see again. Her mind worked furiously to figure out how to get the Amrylin into this very room. It would be a good place to keep the woman until the Dawn was ready for her. Then an idea came to her. It wouldn't take long. An hour at most. She slipped from the room, her white-silver eyes watching for anyone else. With the hall deserted, she strode down it like she was running an errand.

Chapter Four: The Shadow Unleashed
~Ripple One: To the Claw Stone
~Ripple Two: Chance
~Ripple Three: Continued Hearing
~Ripple Four: Fate
~Ripple Five: Death in my Wake
~Ripple Six: True Purposes
~Ripple Seven: The Wait and the Pain
~Ripple Eight: Darkness
~The Final Ripple

Return to the Ripples Intro