Ripple Six: The Claw Stone
written by The Dawn of Blood, Norén al'Thanell, Saphire en'Damier, Leisha Lukonia, Miahala Sha'hal, Croi al’Cor’vron, Shyne, Sigmund von'Danzig, and Kira al'Haram

Standing tall upon a high cliff inside the cavern underneath the Claw Stone, the Dawn of Blood watched as his trolloc army was pouring out into the storm outside. It is time then, he thought, half in disbelief, It has been so long since we began to prepare for this day. And now when it is time, I feel like I have had no other life than the one I've lived inside the Tower.

It was more than half an hour since he and the other had left the passageway, but his clothes were still sodden after his labour. He could not believe the result he had witnessed when he had arrived, but it did not matter any. In fact, they had agreed that this was even better. Now, he did not have to know where the wench was if the Novice failed. He knew where she was going. The only aspect he could not understand was why the Gaidin Captain had not been killed. And that was a fact that did not sit well with him. Of course, there must be a reason why he is alive. I only had to make sure it would remain so, like the true one said. In fact, he had thought the fact oddly amusing.

The Dawn of Blood looked back from the opening, to where the other half of the army descended deep into the mountain. He stood where he was, waiting for the word that the tunnel would be open. If not, the forces would have to come back again, and all would be for naught. He is sure taking his time... But the true one told me to wait for his word.

Making his decision, he adjusted his plain black coat with golden embroidery around the sleeves, and began to descend the spiral steps which led him downwards. What will happen if someone of us fail? His thoughts were troublesome, but he trusted in the true one.

They had traveled hard, sometimes following paths long worn and sometimes creating their own. They all knew that there was no time for them to waste and even the steeds they rode upon seemed to feel it, it was energy slinking through the air and it was upon their skin. Up until this moment, Leisha's battles had all been solely for herself, or for one person beside her, but now she, like she thought all, felt the weight of this upon them.

And here we arrive, she thought to herself as she gave an arm gesture for the party to slow as they came up closer to their destination. The weather was growing darker ahead of them. A foreboding to the moment. Movement was quick, yet slow, in one of those sorts of movements that accompanied times like this. They moved closer, in to a position that they could observe from and see what was ahead of them.

When they did, they wished they hadn't.

Lei glanced side long at Croi with a look in her eyes that screamed what she was thinking, There must be over forty fists there alone... She took a deep breath, her teeth gritting in to each other, "The channelers and archers can take many down from a distance," she began in a voice just loud enoug to be heard, "But once were begin, they will back upon us as well. We should try to stronghold our position before that, but our time is limited."

Saphire Sedai half-heard Leisha's words as she spoke softly to Miahala and Kylara. "I can use the storm to our advantage." She incinled her head towards the storm that had gathered around the Grey Tower. "Liquid Fire would only require a net of Spirit among the clouds and an ignition of Fire to rain fire upon the army below. No life will grow there for a hundred years, at least, but the fires will not die until the Spirit is cut. Even if the army swam into the great lake, the fires would burn until a sister who knew the weave willed them not to."

She pointed to the opening from which Trollocs were marching. "Any reinforcements from the tunnel will walk into a blaze." Her eyes scanned the forces below, "But that requires some time. I think it best if we remain unlinked. There are too many of them. One of us could provide a shield and defend, another could attack defensively or collapse the mouth of the tunnel. Perhaps an avalanche on the other side would be usefu, weaving Water would be sufficient. The Warders needs must hold the rest back. I could not raze the entier army, but with a little time, I could tip the balence well in our favor.

Miahala listened to ahire, nodding as she listened, "It sounds like a fair plan, but I would recommend you tell them," she nodded towards the Gaidin and Gaidar who stood ahead of them, "We have more forces here to our advantage to bolster the use of the Poewr and I think that we should us all to our advantage."

Shyne stood with swords in hand, his right arm shaking with excitment and rage. This day - had it been only this morning it had all started - was drawing to a climactic close and they'd found out vaguely who was behind all of this. It hadn't just been a ploy of the Black Ajah, as he'd thought. This was the work of a Forsaken... or the Dark One himself. Could the seal on the prison be that loose as to allow him to touch the world this much. It was all too possible.

Shadowspawn. He hated shadowspawn with a passion only a true Borderlander could understand. Trollocs had taken almost everything from him, and had indirectly taken the rest as well. Still, it had been years since he'd fought a Trolloc. How long? Too long... He was a swordsman, but his true forms were effective only against shadowspawn, because he could never use his full power against a friend.

And so he was excited. He was very excited. All of the pain and anger he'd experienced throughout the hellish day - all the betrayal and murder - were coming to a head. And he was ready.

Kira watched silently from where she stood, her ashandarei held a arms length much like a banner. Her face was calm, and for once a smile didn't paint it. The only thing to betray her nervousness was the constant movement of her eyes.

In a while, it would all come to an end with either the Grey Tower or the Shadow prevailing. Nothing else mattered except this battle, nothing. If she lived through this, Kira would be sure to take her training far more seriously. Once already she had found a problem with knowing too little, and for once she wanted to know enough.

Light, I'd like Slyder here. That horse was the reason she had made it to the Grey Tower, and he was almost as close to her as Dust Storm. The thought of Dust Storm brought a swift pang of sorrow. Even though the wolf was alive, she was badly burned from the fire in the halls. It had happened too far before Saphire's... thing that had saved the others.

"This is going to be interesting," Kira said softly to Shyne. "All this war. I have never been in a... war before." I had never killed in conciousness, either, but all things change. "How many do you think there are?"

Shyne glanced over at Kira's question. "Too many," he said simply. After a pause, he looked back. "One is too many. And there are probably a few hundred over there. Way too many."

If she responded, he didn't notice. This close to battle, his mind was closing down. It was the closest thing he'd ever experienced the the Void everyone else used. Almost subconsciously, he began quietly singing a battle tune, something he'd sung many times, but hadn't thought much of in years.

"From Shol Arbela we rode
To fight the Trolloc Horde.
Over the land we marched
And through the Blight they poured.
We clashed at Miridin's Pass
That ancient site of war.
Our archers shot volleys and volleys
Into the beastly shore.
Our swordsman took the charge
And met with greater force.
They killed and killed and killed
And cleared the way for horse.
In the end, they all were dead
Every Trolloc and Myrdraal.
And that's the fate of any foe
That hits the Arafellin Wall"

Saphire nodded to the Head of her Ajah, and friend, as if her consent was all she needed to put the plan into action. Now she addressed the entire force,

"Liesha, you are correct. We must find a stronghold of a position. Norén, you know this area best, correct? Show us the strongest position from which to channel."

She waited for his direction, and then explained the plan,

"A storm lingers over the Grey Tower, which is fortunate for us. I can use it to our advantage with enough time to move it over the army below." She made a motion as if brushing the storm over the terrible army of the Shadow. "There is a weave that none but Miahala and I know, to create and hault. It will rain down terrible drops of fire upon all under its looming clouds. Any reinforcements that ascend from the tunnel will walk into a blaze of a burning lake. The fires will not die until I will it so, or if I fall, until Miahala wills it. Even if the army flees to the Great Lake to douse the flames, they will burn. That is why none of you should engage them in battle beneith that storm. Defend only. Let them come to you, and avoid the fires. Understand?" It was a crude weapon, for certain, but as Saphire moved the clouds, so would the rain of Liquid Fire burn hundreds at a time.

The Representative waited for confirmation before continueing. She then spoke to her Ajah Head before the rest of the group, such that they would know which sister was responsible for what, "Sister, you are stronger in Earth and in sheer power than Kylara. Would you attempt to collapse the tunnel?" And then to her half-sister, Kylara, "Do you have any 'angreal or ter'angreal with which to aid us? Most importantly, we ought to leave you to our defense. Can you create a shield against the One Power, preventing attacks to us and preserving our weaves out? Or perhaps counter any attacks of the One Power?"

Then to the rest of the group of soldiers, Warders, and Trainees. "We require time to channel. As soon as we begin, any Black Sister or Brother will sense our weaves. You must be our defense, to buy time and protect us when the army reacts. Without you, we fail."

Leisha listened as Saphire spoke and she nodded. "The power that you three have give us aid in distance, surely, Aes Sedai," she replied as she stood, the storm to her back making the hair on her neck spark or perhaps it was just the impending of battle. "There are also strong archers among us," she looked to those of them she knew were strong with the bow.

"If you Sedai would now fortify yourselves in a position to work from," she nodded slightly towards where Noren had directed, "Then we shall align ourselves as such: let those whose weapons require close distance be look out and aid to the archers until the forces are upon us. Those with a bow will watch for any black channlers or those who look to be leading. Trollocs tend to fall in to anarchy with out a tight hand, and we can use the anarchy to our advantage.

"As Saphire Sedai has said, the moment they channel, any dark channelers shall be about them. Until we are engaged, we must watch for them and dispatch them quickly. As Kylara Sedai will be shielding and aiding the other two," now she turned towards the young channeler, "I hope that you shall be able to direct us to any dark channelers out there, so that we might be able to take care of them," her pause was somber,

"Our time is short, so if we all understand that which we are to do, I suggest that we be about it," Leisha finished her words with a heavy and dark look in her already dark eyes. The tension was rising among them, as they all knew what was about to come.

~*~

Miahala's smooth face was always a picture of serenity and calm, but she was Green to her blood and as she felt the impending upon her, that fire was quite visible in her Saldean blue-green eyes. She listened to Saphire's words and nodded. She was by far the oldest among them, these weilders of the power, and by this age she was strong in it. She knew what she had to do.

She moved with her two sisters to the place that Noren had directed. It allowed them a veiw of the amassing horde, while somewhat obscuring them from the veiws of others. When the archers were entrenched behind cover and those other warriors near them, itching and ready, Mia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, steeling herself for the onslaught of power she was about to quickly take in.

No more roses, only the swinging open of a door she had stepped through more times than she cared to recount and like viscous waves upon the shore, Saidar came upon her. And also like the time worn and weathered shore, she withstood the assault and took in the sweetness that it was. It rushed through her and in that brief half beat of her heart, she shivered.

When her eyes opened again, the power shone through them. She glanced to Saphire and nodded. She moved quickly, but almost in slow motion, as she held her hands out as a method of concentrating her power. It was a quiet rumbling at first, and then more violent. The ground beneath the tunnel began to shake...

When Saphire addressed him, Norén looked away from the enemy. "Certainly, Aes Sedai," he said scanned the edges of the valley, running his hand over his short grey hair in thought.

Giving the matter thurough thought, making sure he wasn't wrong, he then pointed diagonally to their right. "There Aes Sedai," the middle-aged man said, "three hundred yards in that direction, along this rim of the valley, there is a solid rock-formation which will give you cover against any One Power attacks direct towards you at long range from the battlefield. You will find a natrual stone railing there which will reach you to chest level. 'Perfect if you'd need to suddenly take cover. However, there is only open ground behind you, so you will need an escort of my men to cover your rear - in case the Shadow send either scouts that way or a direct attack towards you. Nevertheless, you will be able to see everything that happens down below from there."

"Well marked, Norén." Saphire Sedai nodded her approval and made motion for the rest to move out as they planned.

The Representative listened well to Leisha Gaidar's sound advice, using her staff to aid her ascending march. "There are also strong archers among us," the hardy Gaidar intoned.

"That is quite true." Saphire sent a knowing smile to her own Gaidar, the Mistress of Arms, who unfortunetly didn't catch the look.

". . . let those whose weapons require close distance be look out and aid to the archers until the forces are upon us. Those with a bow will watch for any black channlers or those who look to be leading. Trollocs tend to fall in to anarchy with out a tight hand, and we can use the anarchy to our advantage."

"Well spoken, and agreed." Saphire Sedai nodded, the plan was falling into place. "The Master of Training has arrived mounted as well." She directed a glance to Sigmund, her Warder, who appeared eager to use his lance. "I am sure he would be at a loss if he could not make use of that advantage. He and the other cavalry will pick off stray Trollocs that run against us in the anarchy you describe." They approached the back of the natural stone railing. "Does anyone else have something to report before we take our places? Kira," she addressed the Ji'alantar, "will the wolves enter the battle?"

Turning quickly from the scene before him to the party around him, Croi quickly shook his head. "Do not drop the Stone in upon it self. That defeats the point of our being here. Only a small party blocks those tunnels from the Tower; if they have not yet sufficiently sealed the ruins from the other end, you will flush all the forces still within the ruins to the Tower. Do you want the slaughter to continue there, while you weigh your odds here?"

Shaking his head, Croi pointed to the to the entrances at the north- and southeast ends of the valley. "Mounted forces should attack from either entrance. Channellers and archers take this Eastern rim. With such a force of shadowspawn, the wolves are likely on their way." Croi said making a firm glance at the kin, "have them attack from the western rim. With the Stone at the foot of the Western rim, it will take time for myself and those with me to reach that point."

Looking around the party, Croi looked back over his shoulder towards the assembled force in the valley. "Use whatever weave you see fit, so long as those of us down there can still do our work. We are here to delay an attack on the Tower, not flush them through the ruins. I can tell you now that the most significant target hides in this end of the ruins. Only the elite forces should be in there at this point, judging by the number in the valley, but that is still a force we dont want to press to the Tower, if it can be avoided. Raise a ruckus, get them on end so they come out of the Stone. We will calapse it when our job is done, but we cannot fail."

Shyne stood by as they discussed battle plans. It was not his place to add, for they were the more experienced bunch and he was sure they could handle the strategizing. But there was one thing he could add.

"The wolves are already here," he said after Croi Gaidin finished. "We're using everything we've got to keep them from rushing forward until we do, so as to attack simultaneously. They've pretty much surrounded the Shadowspawn and more are coming as quickly as they can."

"If you attempt to charge down in the valley, Croi Gaidin, you will burn yourself alive." Saphire Sedai stated flatly in a no-nonsense manner, "Closing the mouth of the tunnel from here will prevent shadowspawn from this side fleeing into its depths when panic overcomes them. That is the first priority. Trap them above ground, and then smite them."

Saphire then ignored Croi's words on the wolfkin, for she had not addressed him on that matter, rather having asked the known expert. Instead, her attention was drawn to Trainee Shyne, who appeared to answer for Kira, a known wolfkin. I was not aware that Shyne was a wolfkin as well . . good then. "Shyne and Kira, if the wolves have surrounded the shadowspawn, then their efforts would be best spent coralling them within the storm. Advise them to not advance under the raining fire, and to prioritize attacking those shadowspawn who attempt to flee and are not burning. If there are any to spare, we could use the additional defense from here.

"Simgund," she smiled knowingly at her Gaidin "you will take command of the cavalry. I trust you will lead them best to protect us from on high. Be sure to heed my warning concerning the storm and the archers, who will shoot from this fortification." Do not fear for me, she hoped he understood, Ellisande and the rest will protect me from here.

It was then when her half-sister, Kylara Sedai, spoke up. She admitted that she had minimal Talent with shields but she did hold an 'angreal. Saphire Sedai then advised her to keep it to compensate for the shields and defensive counter-attacks. She also ought to heed Liesha Gaidar's request to point out the Black channelers to her and the rest of the archers, including the Mistress of Arms.

"Once more unto the breech dear friends, once more unto the breech . . ." were the Representative's last words before embraced saidar. And the clouds began to move . . .

Listening to Saphire's instructions, Sigmund bowed. "As you will it, my lady." Strapping his helm on, Sigmund looked over his cavalrymen. He held his visor up to speak. "Alright troops, mount up! If you have armor, don it now. Lances at the ready!" He paused for a brief moment as the knights prepared for battle. Once they were mounted, he continued. "Form up in two rows. Trollocs are undisciplined fighters, so keep the formation loose. They have no mounted troops and are easily paniced, so this will become a rout. Always stay in formation, even after they break and run. We cannot allow ourselves to be separated! Do not fear, for the Aes Sedai will have our backs!"

"Lady Saphire, shall we attack the front of the Trolloc army, to prevent them from entering the tunnel?" Sigmund asked deferentially. "It may take some time to collapse the tunnel. We could limit the number of Trollocs that enter before it's closed."

Saphire's mind was in part on the thick cords of air that were pulling the stormcloads from the Grey Tower towards the valley under the Claw Stone. She faced the Tower and the looming darkness over it, her emerald eyes set on the task before her. Yet she answered her Gaidin's question. "Well spoken, Sigmund." She was concentrating so hard on Cloud Dancing that she did not even react to the title that usually would cause her to at least sniff half-heartedly. "Make it so. Miahala will then concentrate on the small tunel leading from the Claw Stone itself, where our ememy's reinforcements emerge. But heed me, fall back when you hear thunder, the rumble of earth shaking from the tunnel. I will attempt to spare our meager cavalry, but there will be a point when the clouds must rain fire upon our foes and can not be halted." Her will and the dance with the clouds was a force of nature. There was a note of deep concern in her voice, although, as if she feared for her Gaidin, the Master of Training's, life.

Closing his visor, he raised his lance high. "May the Creator take all these beings of Shadow! CHARGE!"

With a rumble of hoofbeats, they sped down towards their foes.

Undisciplined fighters? Easily panicked? They've never seemed that way to me. Still, he didn't argue. There was no point in arguing now.

Alright, Shyne called out to the wolves amassed around them, when the two-legs and the hard-footed four-legs attack, aid them with claw and teeth, but then the sky roars and the ground shakes seek refuge in the forest. If anything flees, kill it.

The words "We're ready" were on the tip of his tongue, but no one was really paying them any mind and the cavalry was already charging. Shyne flexed his fingers around the hilt of his swords and stood with the Aes Sedai. As he hadn't been directly assigned, he would guard the Aes Sedai until one of them told him otherwise.

As the cavalry rumbled down the hill towards the enemy, Sigmund readied his lance in it's rest. They all rode with lances vertical to ease the strain of carrying the long heavy weapon. Little was audible over the clatter of armor and the hooves of horses, even though they were proceeding at a mere trot.

I am lucky these men have some training Sigmund thought. The ranks are holding, at least on the straight line. We shall see if they can turn in formation as well. Formation was key for a cavalry charge. The Trollocs looked up at the incoming troops, surprised to see opposing forces.

As the cavalry neared the entrance to the tunnel, Sigmund gave the signal to turn to the right and prepare for the charge. Turning in formation is always difficult. The left wing began to pull ahead as the right wing slowed down somewhat. Several of the cavalrymen lost their positions during the turn, but once they were facing the hated Shadowspawn, everyone returned to position. They began to advance. Once they were within 200 yards, Sigmund shouted "CHARGE!!!"

And the charge began. The horses accelerated to a gallop and lances were levelled. They thundered towards the opposition. Some space was left between horsemen, so that they could manuver around the corpses which would soon litter the battlefield without allowing troops to surround any individual knight. Sigmund himself moved his lance to his left side. A Trolloc raised a spear to him, and in an instant Sigmund brought his lance back around and down, pushing the Trolloc spear aside while levelling his own lance. The steel head pierced through the Trolloc's breastplate, and it fell. Sigmund now gripped the lance and pulled it from the corpse as it passed him by. An arrow from a Trolloc bow shattered against his breastplate.

The cavalrymen finished their charge on the other side of the Trolloc horde and wheeled about. The Master of Arms' blue eyes went searching over the battlefield. Several Trollocs had fallen and some were running for the shelter of the tunnel. Alas, we cannot follow them in there. There would not be enough room for cavalry. However, many Trollocs had now turned to counterattack the knights. "CHARGE!" Sigmund shouted again, and once again they galloped towards the enemy. All sound was a thunderous cacophany of hooves and screaming of both man and beast-man. Sigmund again levelled his lance at the enemy, a falcon-headed beast. It gripped it's spear and raised it at Sigmund, but then simply dropped it and ran, frightened by the horde of knights charging it's way. Excellent. Sigmund ran down the beast, his lance putting an end to it's unnatural existance. Again, they emerged on the other side and wheeled around.

And then the rains began.

Fire began to fall from the sky, as if the very rain were burning oil. This must be that Liquid Fire weave that Lady Saphire mentioned. "Fall back!" Sigmund shouted, raising his visor with his left hand. "Fall back and regroup!" As he raised his visor, a black arrow tore through his cheek. Blood and ashes! He led the cavalry back away from the Trollocs as they burst into flames. Now we hold back and just run down those who try to escape the fire. Once they were at a safe distance, Sigmund tore the arrow out, shouting in pain as he did so. That will leave a scar. Bloody archers!

Stepping out into the scything winds, the Dawn of Blood emerged from a new gateway in the palm of the stone hand. Form the face of the slightly cupped hand, he watched his army from outside instead. His dark hair streamed before his hard gaze in the gusts as he saw the now two hundred strong force form up around six widely separate Myrdraal.

Even if we might not gain the Tower this day, since the real blows will be more subtly dealt inside it, I will make the battlements run red with blood before the dawn arrives, he thought and clenched his fists hard by his sides. Three fronts there would be, with each one of them leading their own attack. He had been given the most obvious approach, the other Dedicated had been dealt the force that would strike up from beneath the Grey Tower. They both would be a distraction for the true one, who would guarantee their victory from within.

His black coat, only adorned with the sword pin in the collar, flapped madly behind him. "Know my name," he said as he looked upon the Tower in the very far distance. "I am Hanathel Serévon, and I will end my days as a Dedicated before my time. And at the cruel mercy of the Great Lord will I be raised beyond a mere Asha'man. Hear me! After today, I will be... a Dreadlord. When the Last Battle comes, I will drink your fear and blood in feast and joy of his resurrection!"

His attention was drawn back to the valley below when cries rose to his ears. What? From the opposite side, columns of unknown cavalry had emerged and rode towards his army. Quickly, he grasped saidin and his then improved sight told him that it was a force of Tower Guard lead by Warders. His jaws clenching in fury, he saw the columns fanout and charge the front of his army. What are they doing here? They are too few to defeat my forces, and they know it. He watched the clash of Light and Shadow without understanding. "What are you doing, you fools? Can you not see that your efforts are futile?" In a matter of seconds, the six Myrdraal made the shadowspawn hunt the regrouping force after the charge had struck them.

But then the Dawn felt it. A slight shiver... and it was not from the wind. The feeling built and the sky moved in towards him. "No!" He knew what it was. The Tower's forces were not alone. There were Aes Sedai at work. "No!" But it was too late, the sky opened and inferno fell from the heavens. Another hundred had emerged from the base of the Stone, yet close to all fell to the flames.

Regaining some composure, Hanathel used the Source to make his voice heard to the troops below. " DO NOT FALL BACK! FOLD OUT AND ATTACK THEIR FLANKS! KILL THEM ALL!" came his cry over the valley and the six Myrdraal heard him, beginning to direct the Trollocs away from the raining fire and forward in a wild advance towards the armoured cavalry.

Having dealt his orders, Hanathel then turned his gaze. It was much harder to halt a storm than to create one, thus he could not do much about the attack from above... except than to find whoever commanded it. Drawing in more of the male half of the Source, he did what he could to change the winds above and accelerate them in a particular direction. His intent was to commandeer the storm to the north and then back in a tight arc around and past his own forces. He would use their own weapon against them by controlling the cloud-movements. This was his storm to begin with. His! The clouds moved unnaturally fast, defying laws of nature. Eventually, they would come to the rim of the valley where the Tower's forces had emerged from, and the fire-storm as well.

Whether from the One Power, or from pure shock, Saphire Sedai was blown back from the ledge.

It was five steps, five she recovered, but five too many. Her emerald eyes gaped wide at the luminous clouds above them. The storm of Liquid Fire was crawling towards them! "No, impossible!" The inferno she had created had been shoved back upon her with such force she had been knocked both physically and from its control like a child over a coveted toy. There was another Cloud Dancer of equal Talent, on the other side.

Burn You! She howled at the unseen foe. Burn you to the Pit of Doom! The Representative scrambled to her feet and threw herself at ledge. "This is My Weave, MINE! MINE YOU FLAMING TOAD-HEADED TROLLOC!!" She shivered with indignant rage.

Flaring at the nearest body, she ordered, "Give me my quarterstave, ho!" and then grasping it. With directed fury she pointed down. Down into the depths of halfmen and halfbeasts. The twin-dragon bracelet that she hardly ever removed slid down her arm to her wrist. It had not yet grown cool with the nearness of shadowspawn, and she prayed it would not. But it did allow her to see the weaves and purpose of saidin that had comandeered her weapon. "Archers, FIRE!" Saphire roared madly, "Try to steal Liquid Fire with holes in your chest, THIEF!"

The downpour of fire had already moved closer upon the forces of the Light, but fortunetly it had covering new ground over the Shadow. Saphire then directed the weaves back, back upon the shadowsworn. For a moment the tempest shivered as it was pushed in opposite directions. Then the Sitter frowned, and waved her staff in a high arch to the side and back, like a parry and thrust. She would attempt to outmanuver him. If anything, she could make herself unpredictable.

And there the tug-of-war over the sky began.

The Trollocs marched forward. Attacking after suffering two charges? There must be Half-men at work here! "Keep a look out for Half-men!" Sigmund shouted. He heard a booming shout echoing across the battlefield, ordering the Trollocs. And they have an enemy channeler. As the firey rain edged closer to the Aes Sedai and the cavalry force, Sigmund gestured with his lance and lead the group out of the way of Death's march.

The knights trotted away from the Trollocs, gaining some distance. Maybe they'll think we are retreating, and break their lines. However, the Trollocs retained their discipline. Definately Half-men at work here. Where are they? Although there were only a few hundred Trollocs, it was enough to make it difficult to spot the Half-men amongst their ranks, particularly as they didn't appear to be mounted.

With that, Sigmund shouted new orders. The cavalry group wheeled about again and thundered back towards the charging Trollocs. "Run the Light-forsaken beasts down! Slay them all!" he shouted, blood bubbling through the wound in his cheek. He levelled his lance again, hoping that an accursed Half-man would find it's way onto his point. Dust and dirt and blood filled the air, all kicked up by the hooves of the horses. Lord Sigmund raced into the line of Trollocs, his lance slamming into a Trolloc's chest as it raised it's weapon too late. It fell to the ground and Sigmund retrieved his lance once more. As he raced through the Trolloc lines, he thought he spotted a Half-man lurking in the ranks. Swiftly, he tried to ready his lance again, but a clang of metal on wood sent it off to the side before he could bring the cruel point to bear on the abomination. Flame it! Curse the beast!

Once again, the cavalry force emerged on the far side of the Trollocs. In his rage, Sigmund shouted "Wheel about! Charge again! Kill all the bloody things!" They turned and charged once more. "WE ARE THE HAND OF THE LIGHT, AND WE SHALL SLAY YOU ALL!" By now, the Trollocs had readied their dismounting hooks. As Sigmund readied his lance and charged forward, one came at his head. Quickly, he slapped it aside with his left hand, but as a result he missed his mark. He brought his long bloody lance to bear on another Trolloc, this time piercing the beastman's throat. The Trolloc must have had an iron collar, for the lance finally cracked and broke with the force of the impact. Blood spurted wildly, but as Sigmund rode past, it slashed at his thigh, the scythesword clanging off of his plate armor.

Where is that flaming Half-man? We must destroy it! Sigmund thought as they regrouped a safe distance from the Trollocs. His lance gone, he drew his sidesword. May the Light guide my blade! He looked up to the ridge, checking on Saphire's condition. Luckily, the Trollocs seemed to be focused on the cavalry. Lord Sigmund looked over his knights again. Many of them were not as heavily armored as himself, and so they had suffered several losses. Many others were injured. "Did anyone get the Half-man?" he asked, desperately hoping for an affirmative answer.

With his clack coat flapping about him, Hanathel Serévon felt the resistance mount as he commandeered the raining fire away from the Claw Stone. Apparently, his advesary was skilled, yet that did not stop him from baring his teeth. With a sweeping gesture, he placed a solid shield of Air before him, even though he was quite far up and the range of the bows barely reached him from where they were. His fangs had tasted blood, and he craved more. He did not see the weaves that battled his own, yet he did see the movements of the clouds... and how could he fail to see where the fires fell from the sky?

Next, the Aes Sedai tried to trick him by escaping sideways from their status-quo and steer it back against his trolloc forces, but he was quick to counter...

Posing his hands before him, he divided the clouds that rained fire in two... setting off thunder-claps that shook the ground. With drawing more form the True Source, he copied the weave he was using and placed it next to his old. With his fingers and knuckles white in strain, he screamed as he forced one half in a semi-circle to the north and back towards the furthest rim of the valley, and the other... it roared towards the Light's cavalry forces like the hailstorm of inferno.

Below, the saidar-wrought fires successfully sealed off the few hundreds of shadowspawn which remained from leaving the Claw Stone, however they would not turn their heels and begin to march into the tunnel that would deliver them to the basement levels f the Grey Tower itself. However, there were still more than one hundred trollocs still alive in the rain-washed and fire-stained valley, and four Myrdraal still remained to witness the change of the winds. With an iron grip, the Fades made the trollocs fall back from possible doom and give way to the remaining archers. A straight line of thirty archers formed and loosed as many volleys as they were able.

Shyne's arms were almost convulsing in pent up anticipation. War was raging all around them and he was standing there doing nothing. His wolflike hearing brought snatches of battle from all over the valley. He could even here Sigmund yelling battlecries and orders below them. Most of what he heard though was Saphire Sedai and thunder.

He was itching to fight, but he couldn't. Such is life... he thought bitterly. He could feel the wolves rushing forward, plunging into the trollocs. In his head he could see them killing trollocs by the dozen. He saw four of them take down a myrddraal, even though three of them died and the fourth didn't get away without injury. And those three weren't the only ones.

Baring his teeth, growling audibly, Shyne just stared down at the carnage so close, yet so far away. He wanted to fight. He wanted to kill. In his mind the only thing worse than trollocs and myrddraal were darkfriends, and all three of them were down there, waiting for his swords, but he was still up here...

Leisha heard the scream from Saphire Sedai. It was almost primordial in it's rage. She was screaming to the sky and though the Gaidar couldn't see it herself, she could see the movements on the clouds. This wasn't a good thing.

"Archers, Fire!" Saphire screamed next.

Leisha could do naught by obey. She used one arm to signal the other archers, "Follow her signal, if you can see the Shadowed Channeler, fire at will!" she roared over the noise. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and aimed to where she'd been motioning and she sought her line of sight.

~*~

Mia, too, heard the scream of her Sister, in ears brought to fiery life by the crashing of Saidar in her body. She turned from her task and saw the fight for the sky. She felt that she was needed. She moved closer to Saphire, and pulled on her considerable strength, adding to the weaves of her Sister. Not over-powering, but bolstering, fire reflecting in her blue-green eyes.

Standing in the opening from the Claw Stone, two Myrdraal remained to stare through the immortal flames outside and upon the rain-showered battle. Their scaled armour absorbed the red and yellow light more than reflected it, and their illness-pale hands were covered in sinisterly sharp-fingered gauntlets. They could not proceed forward and join the fray without burning to ashes in moments. They had sent their trollocs ahead in the tunnel that led to the Old Tower, and eventually, the basements of the Grey Tower itself. And now, they were deciding upon what action they would take themselves.

Slowly they turned their heads and looked upon each other, exchanging intent like comrades in arms about to act. Their eyeless sockets locked, and the first nodded in a barely perceptional acknowledgement. The other returned the nod.

And as one they turned about and drew their dark blades, forged at the slopes of Shayol Ghul, and stepped into the shadow beyond the fire-light. And then the interior of the Claw Stone was suddenly free of movements.

"Curse the day!" Saphire Sedai spat at the battle below. Its tide had shifted against them. While the Shyne and Kira's wolves engaged the Trollocs in battle, and Liquid Fire had cleared much of the valley, there was still a great deal to loose. The arrows had not haulted the darkness-tainted madman. There was no chance Ellisande and Liesha could have failed to mark him, the only alternative was a shield. The fight for the sky had grown that much more complicated with the parting of the clouds. And worse, the gold circling her wrist had turned icy . . .

Saphire would have to loose her concentration for a few precious moments, else risk the Light's hold on the Mountains of Mist.

"Shadowspawn approach! SIGMUND, FALL BACK!" The Sitter's voice boomed with the Voice of Power above the din of storm and slaughter. She turned, and her sight confirmed it. To the rear of her and her Sisters, two Fades crept. Farther, Norén approached at a gallop, his voice muted by the thunder. "Steadfast, Sisters!" Saphire coaxed Miahala and Kylara. She did not have to order Shyne, Kira, Liesha, and Ellisande for they were already moving into position. "Trust the Warders! Kylara, defense!" She only hoped Norén had the sense of mind to blow the horn and ralley the infantry. The could not afford the fear that came with sight of the Half-men's eyes.

It was then when Saphire turned her back to the danger behind them. It was critical they complete their tasks. Like a true sister, Saphire touched Miahala's shoulder in thanks for the added power. With the butt of her staff, Saphire slashed at the sky. It was too much to hold onto now, regretable as the lost weapon would be. The thread of Spirit that allowed Fire to climb up like a ladder to the farther storm in the north snaped and severed, and so did the source of the Fire. For a few more moments that storm would rain fire, and then no more.

Below she watched Sigmund's knights retreat back into the hills, away from the half-sized Liquid Fire storm that had encroached and the Trolloc arrows under it. With Miahala's aid, Saphire swung the clouds back, back upon the dark Cloud Dancer. Her staff swept in a grande motion towards the source of saidin, yet Saphire's brow dotted with sweat from the effort to ignore the ensuing danger behind them.

Men are more powerful in the One Power alone, but women are more powerful linked!

It was then when Saphire began the weaves of Illusion to fool the Creator's bane. Two tornadoes appeared to close in upon the Trolloc forces. With any luck, the trick would distract him and the force of Saphire's (and now Miahala's) thick cords of Air that pulled the storm back upon the mad saidin weaver would smite him.

Daimor's bracelet clung like frost to Saphire's wrist. And it taxed her concentration to keep from turning to the potential death it warned of behind her. Above the roar of thunder, Saphire asked her Ajah Head. "Please, collapse the tunnel!" She let go of the link, and would thank her older Sister for her aid later. But if those hundred or more Trollocs took advantage of the open tunnels into the Old Tower, the New Tower would fall by twilight.

Leisha heard the roars of warning and looked to the small clump of channelers in time to see the approach of the Half-men. She made a rather loud curse in the Old Tongue. The range was short and they were very close. She only had one shot, before hand to hand would be needed. She all but ripped an arrow from her quiver and slipped it in to her bow. She held her breath as she aimed and loosed.

It hit one of the moving shadows in what she could assume was similar to a shoulder. A second arrow hit the second. She hoped that was Ellisande as she pulled her knife and charged ahead the short distance. Odds were not entirely on her side, but that hadn't really ever stopped her before. She screamed, a charge to her adrenaline, and met a swinging Mydraal blade with her knife, the muscles in her arm strained, but she remained steadfast in her fight.

~*~

The link snapped away and Mia was left with a single cry from Saphire: Collapse the tunnel. She took another deep breath, this one shuddering in to her lungs. Throughout her body fought a war: the energizing rush of Saidar versus the fatigue of a physical body. She fought it away though, because it was what she had to do and it was something she had done many times before.

She pulled the raging cloak of the One Power around her and began weaving the threads of Earth. It was not her strongest power, but she was stronger in it than most female channelers. She held her hands out in front of her, more for her concentration to slip down than the power. The ground at the tunnel's mouth began to rumble. The only forces around it now were those of the Shadow, so she held little back for fear of injuring their own.

The rumbling grew louder and stronger. She began to slowly move her hands together. A shaking shade of earthen green slipped through the oceanic blue-green of her eyes. The ground began to push within itself. It rose upwards, like the forming of a mountain. She did not collapse the tunnel, but made the ground rise up in such a way that the tunnel was sealed and it was so thick, that the digging it would take to free it would not be possible.

She released the threads that had made that new mountain, her body shaking from her fingers to her face. She took a breath in to her body and took the power into her again. She let it provide her strength, so that she would fall to rest when this was over. For this moment, it was time to help her sisters further for what she could.

Shyne heard the cries from the Infantry captain, and the cries from Saphire, but he'd already noticed the two Myrddraal headed toward them. Unfortunately he was on the wrong side, standing point on the channelers' other side. As the half-men crashed into the infantry and headed up, Shyne started running toward them, twin fangs bared. He saw both Myrddraal get hit by arrows from Leisha and Ellisande, but they only got off one shot each.

Luckily the pale-skinned attackers were horribly outnumbered. As one of them rushed up to Leisha, it's evil black sword stopped by her well-placed knife, it was being attacked by two other nameless infantry man, allowing Shyne to rush up on it's flank and perform a jumping whirlwind attack, quite effective with two weapons. The problem with standing unnaturally tall as Myrddraal do is that their heads tend to stick up above most other people. It was the head Shyne struck at, and the head came off. Physics, however, was not in Shyne's favor. His sword caught on flesh or bone and dragged him back, nearly pulling his right arm out of his socket because of his momentum and bringing him crashing to the ground nearby, falling on his already hurt arm and breaking it. A small price to pay for a dead myrddraal.

Sigmund heard Saphire's call and obeyed. "Keep pressing those Light-forsaken Trollocs!" he shouted to the remaining knights. "I shall return shortly." With that, he wheeled around and spurred Manshimar'ji firmly. Light, grant that I reach her in time! The two of them sped onward. A black Trolloc arrow clanged off of Sigmund's backplate, but he heard it not. All of his mind was focused on the figures at the top of the hill.

Man and steed sped onward, back up the hill. As Sigmund drew closer, he saw two Half-men up on the hill. The Master of Arms snarled wordlessly. He picked one of them to die first, and he raised his sword up high. Sigmund brought his sword down in a mighty blow ...

Shyne swung first, and the Fade's head rolled away, spurting black blood as it fell. The Half-man fell, and Sigmund's bright blade bit into it's shoulder as it did. Burn him! "Good work," he said to Shyne gruffly. He reached down and skewered the Fade regardless, in an attempt to slay what would not fully die until sunrise. Sigmund spotted the other Fade, but it was too close to Leisha for Sigmund to do any good. He rode over to Saphire.

"I am here, my lady," he told the embattled Green. "Shyne slew one. If the other escapes past Leisha, it will die by my blade."

Kira held back in the tide of wolves, waiting calmly for most to pass her. Then, she sped in with the end, her ashanderei held at ready. This is for you, sister, and for the Tower, she thought as she rushed towards the Shadowspawn.

Too many were ahead, but the channelers should help with that. Hard footed four legs everywhere, but for once they didn't attract her interest. The Twisted Ones ahead were waiting, and it was never nice to keep others waiting.

The wolves were among them, and from teh corner of her eye, Kira saw Shyne. She kept going, heading towards the Twisted Ones ahead. Claws and fangs. I have fangs too. In the light, the ashanderei did seem like a fang, but that was all stored away in another part of her mind, one not in the present.

She met her first Twisted One. It's mail seeming to way it down, but the sword like thing it held deadly still. She continued forward, slowly, then dropped to her knee. Hamstring, and throat, she thought to herself, slicing cleanly through the hamstring, then slaying it after it's fall.

This will be bloody, she thought as she stepped towards the next waiting Twisted One.

The Light's small contingent in the Mountains of Mist claimed many small victories in those few moments.

The ledge vibrated beneith Saphire's hands with the force of her Ajah Head's power. Saphire Sedai gripped it to hold her balence in place and minimal concentration on the war for the sky. The ground below the tunnel that bore into the Old Tower rose unto a mountain of stone and rubble gloriously. The screams of dying half-beasts were drowned in the thunder of that quake. With the Creator's blessing, perhaps some Trolloc forces had been unearted with it . . .

Simultaniously, an unumbered many packs of wolves charged steadfast upon the remaining forces of the Shadow. They too had turned the tide of battle. Sigmund had had the sense of mind to leave his knights below to prevent the remaining shadowspawn from spreading gurilla warfare from here to the Grey Tower. Animal and man fought side-by-side in prologue to the Last Battle.

The clash of steel engaged too behind Saphire and her Sisters. While sweat beaded Saphire's brow, and the golden bracelet that clung to her wrist still bore deathly cold into her wrist, she STILL breathed! That only meant that Liesha, Ellisande, Shyne and the others were suceeding in their last stand. A heartbeat later, relief washed over the Green Sitter as she sensed her Gaidin charge up the hill. Closer and closer and closer, Manshimar'ji's hooves beat the ground in time with Saphire's heart until the clash of Sigmund's blade met armor. There was a snarl of wolfkin and Saphire felt an eyeless head roll under her feet. It stared up at her, half-dead, and gaping.

She was never so relieved to hear Sigmund call her by title, "I am here, my lady. Shyne slew one. If the other escapes past Leisha, it will die by my blade." Saphire only nodded in aknowledgement. Her ageless eyes were set upon the fire-lit storm. Later they would share a pint of the ale so-called The Arrogant Bastared. But now she poured her full concentration into the sky . . .

Resistance.

In those brief moments, Saphire had lost some of the footing gained with Miahala's aid. The distractions below and above had taxed her concentration in an evenly-matched battle of Talent. Yet she had not lost too much to be recovered. . . she had sewn her own distractions for the shadowsworn whether weaver.

The Cloud Dancers on the sides of Light and Shadow locked horns. They were like two sides of the same coin. Which would land face up and victorious was now only chance in the Creator's and Dark One's game. She felt her storm pushed, and yet she struggled to keep it steady. Blindly, Saphire reached out for her Sister's hand. "Mia . . " she managed, pleading for her link.

She felt her Sister's emotions. Miahala was wearing down, and so was Saphire. The Green Sitter squeezed her friend's hand. After this day, they would be near-sisters, or battle-sisters. If they lived. If they were not stilled from drawing too much of the True Source.

Then, thick binds of Air rolled the Liquid Fire storm closer and over the madman. Faint residues of his former weaves hovered over the area like flags. Saphire struggled to center this blunt weapon over that small point of darkness. But the Illusions were doing their work. He could not concentrate and pour his full power in against two linked Aes Sedai.

"You can not fight tornadoes and a storm over your head, Light's Bane! Your day of judgement has come, answer to your Creator!"

She roared, but her voice was only a whisper above the storm and clash of weapons. Thunder rolled in all ears. And that same tempest that hailed fire upon the Dark One's forces now flickered with its own light. Sky connected with ground with electric force, in and around that dark source of saidin.

There is no stone that water can not wear away, nor any fire that air can not snuff out!

At first, the Dawn of Blood thought he had victory within grasp. Yet then, a few events he had not foreseen took place.

While he held his cramped-up hands and his gaze locked towards the sky, his peripheral vision caught movements on each side of the valley. And when he looked, he saw the air forming up into two tornados which began to move towards him. How many channelers are there? he wondered as his brow-ridge lowered over his dark eyes. There was nothing to consider, he had to do something about it.

Right then, the force behind the weaves that drove the raining fire towards him slacked by half, and he was granted leeway to send his own weaves of Air towards the spiraling winds.

Yet nothing happened. However much he strove to slow down those winds, nothing happened to his eyes. The two tornados move don relentlessly. It was then things began to get out of hand for Hanathiel.

The ground began to shake as he stood in the palm of the Claw, and he had to reach out and support himself on the soaring thumb. He looked over the fire-lit valley and could see nothing which caused the earthquake... not until a growing shadow caught his attention. It was a mountain sprouting up from the ground, and it was right above the tunnel which lead to the Old Tower.

"No!" he screamed, eyes wide. Only half the forces should have managed to pass though. That is not enough! His gaze began to flicker towards the tornados again, and he wetted his lips... which tasted salt from the sweat beading his face. "Not enough... Not enough..." it was just a hoarse whisper now. And when the ground quit shaking, the clouds of raining fire resumed it previous forcefulness towards him. Its force now made him sink down to a knee, his hands shaking as they pointed to the inevitable approach of his doom. His black Dedicated's coat flapped wildly behind him from the winds conjured by the channelers of the Light. He was too weak now, to much force had been spent from his side. His mind raced, seeking a path to escape. He was two hundred yards or more high up in the air, and he could not weave a new gateway now... he was too fatigued to accomplish the weaves, and at the same time, keep the fire-clouds at bay.

"No.. This was not how it was supposed to happen... No..." In reality, he was just a young man. A young man who had seen too much, and sought the wrong means to an end he did not need. Eternal life would not be his anymore, he would die now.

"You can not fight tornadoes and a storm over your head, Light's Bane! Your day of judgement has come, answer to your Creator!" He heard the words faintly over the winds, yet he perceived them as if they had been shouted into his ear.

And then the sky turned white. "The Light preserve me..."

Standing high atop his steed, Sigmund surveyed the battlefield. Corpses sunk in the blood-stained muck; man, beast and man-beast all rotted and cooked side by side. The remnents of the flaming rain still burned on the ground; the scenery like that of a ghastly nightmare.

But the worst was over now.

The Master of Training removed his helm, blood washing the dirt from his mangled cheek. Below the wound, droplets of blood had already begun to clot, dark crimson trails. "My lady," he addressed Saphire, gurgling slightly, "the day is won." After catching Saphire's eye, Sigmund glanced over at Leisha. "The Gaidar and Gaidin fought bravely. In particular, Leisha stared into the dreadful face of a Myddraal without flinching, I have trained her well." He paused a moment to let the import of that sink in. I know all too well how she does not have the social perception that her mother hath.

"Shall we return to the Grey Tower now?"

It was done.

Shards of the broken Claw Stone lay strewn like boulders across the plateu on which they stood and tumbled down into the dead valley. Yes, it will be the Dead Valley, for at least a century. Saphire Sedai thought grimly. She knew how perilous Liquid Fire was to life, regardless of its neutrality.

The First Green Sitter held her staff in mid-grip before her chest and pushed out and the valley of fire then fell like a wave on the shore. What was once lit ablaze with hellfire snuffed out. All that remained was the overpowering sight of black corpses and the wafting smell of cooked manmeat that rose with the wind. The tempest ceased. The ominous clouds made way for blue sky and sunlight. Yet faint drizzle remained like the Creator's tears across so much death and distruction. Saphire turned her back.

She leaned against the railing, for fear of falling from exhaustion. Her ageless eyes appraised her Sisters' with tired victory. "It is done then." They agreed. Saphire grinned at Miahala and Kylara, true Sisters of Battle now. She turned to the others, and with a hoarse voice announced. "It is done. The Light has prevailed. Order the Light's forces to fall back and regroup. We celebrate victory tonight!"

That was when Sigmund caught her eye. Her eye which grew wide with concern and the sudden pounding sympathy for his injured face. I hadn't realized I was so distracted that I didn't feel his hurt . . Saphire thought as she staggered over to Sigmund's mount. She clutched the saddle.

"The Gaidar and Gaidin fought bravely. In particular, Leisha stared into the dreadful face of a Myddraal without flinching, I have trained her well. Shall we return to the Grey Tower now?"

There was a warm smile that added to the glow of victory in Saphire's countinance. Sigmund had given his approval then, in light of Leisha's particular contribution. She had guarded more than one Aes Sedai's back and prevailed in the face of fear. Saphire patted Manshimar'ji's rump and answered, "First find some healing and rest, Sigmund. You fought the good fight this day, and I wouldn't want to see your pretty face mangled for it." She glanced at Leisha who was receiving her own praise. "Besides, there is something I must do before we return . . ." Sigmund and Ellisande were left with a wink before Saphire staggered over to Liesha.

"I have considered your proposal, Liesha Lukonia Gaidar. And I accept." Saphire's emerald eyes sparkled still with the pleasure of the announcement. How many more shadowspawn would they enjoy slaying together? She did not know. But Saphire did know that Liesha had shown her true temperment and skill this day. She was a warrior Saphire would enjoy sharing tales of battle with for ever more. For Saphire could not have suceeded and lived this day without her. "I would be honoured if you would allow me to bond you as my Gaidar, Sister of Battle. I hope that this is still your wish."

Leisha's shoulders sagged from the fatigue and strain for a long moment. She felt ragged loose strands of hair clinging to her skin, which she pushed back against her dark braid. She looked around, her hand hanging down against her leg with her knife still in it. Long day...

She heard Saphire Sedai's words and saw her exchanging triumphant smiles with the other two Sedai. They looked exhausted, but exultant, too. She pulled a rag from her pocket to clear her blade, but heard the Sedai's staggering steps and looked up. Lei, at first, didn't remember what she was talking about, however, but the next statement reminded her.

She paused seriously, looking for the appropriate thoughts and words. This had taken her by surprise. So much had happened to her since she had first approached the Sedai, but still... it did not change that she wanted a purpose... outside of one she'd recently found. "Yes, Aes Sedai," she replied carefully, "It is still my wish, and it will be my honor to serve." She bowed her head once deeply in respect.

"I have always believed that an essence of the bond should exist before the bond. And I believe we share that, Leisha Gaidar." And she meant every word with all of her heart. That understanding had not existed between her and Sigmund and Ellisande before their bond had been arranged. This time, Saphire felt ready for the committment. "Thank you for giving me time to know you." There were circles under Saphire's eyes, but the emeralds glittered none the less. "I have great respect for you, as do Sigmund and Ellisande." There was a faint smile, one of anticipation. But equally important, I trust you." She did not want to wait a moment longer . . .

Saphire Sedai bared her hands of her staff, and clasped them together in preperation. Every Trainee was taught this ritual. The soon-to-be Warder kneeled before the Aes Sedai and swore in his or her own way. It was then customary for the Aes Sedai to speak her oath and hold the Battle Brother or Sister's head in her her hands. And then the gentle weave settled. And they were one. Saphire had experienced this more or less formally in the past, with Sigmund and Ellisande, and Atreus before them. But every time she prepared that weave there was a twinge in her gut that she would fail them. This time was no different. The ritual, the weave, (in many ways one and the same), cycled through her mind. She waited for Leisha's part.

So, she means to do this now, Leisha thought to herself. This was not the way she had anticipated it, when the time came, however, she realized that it was probably more fitting than any vision she had had of it. A shimmer danced across her dark eyes and she smiled faintly, one that could only be caught for a brief moment before Leisha lowered herself to one knee.

"Saphire Sedai, as I exist and kneel here before you now, I swear that in every breath I am able to breathe, I shall protect and defend you. Upon the Light, I honor every word I swear, and this I swear to you now," she stated simply and fully. She was not a woman of eloquent words, but she was of strong convictions and she made this with that strength.

Saphire stood with shaky knees from exhaustion, but she stood as a rock of confidence. She bent slightly and took Leisha's hands in hers, just as she had Ellisande once. "I take you as my Warder, Leisha Lukonia, Sister of Battle. As I stand in the Light, I swear on honour itself to give your life meaning. By my power, your life will not be wasted in idleness, nor your death lack reverence from its purpose." It was all that Warders sought and dreamed of one day achieving. Dimly, Saphire was aware of those who watched, and hoped they took the example. Young Aes Sedai and Warder alike. Saphire's words bound into her skin as firmly as the Three Oaths themselves, for she could speak no lie.

Then, Saphire released Liesha's hands. Opening herself to saidar, Saphire felt the euphoric rush that was touching the One Power. She reached with restrained eagerness, placing one hand on each side of Liesha's bowed head. With great care Saphire wove Spirit into a flow from a hundred threads, each thinner than a hair and placed just so. Above Leisha the tracery of Spirit shone finer than lace. It shimmered like fine silk resting just above the knelt figure of Liesha Gaidar. Everything was ready. Saphire breathed deeply.

Saphire Sedai laid the bond upon her as gently as if she where laying a blanket on a baby. The spiderweb of Spirit settled around them, settled into them. She released saidar. It was done.

Saphire smiled broadly then. The familiar feeling of another's presence in her head had renewed. A third, distinct, soul. Eyes blinking away the water through her smile, she bowed and kissed Leisha's forehead warmly in confirmation of their bond. Stepping back, Saphire relished the rich sensations even amidst the stirr that was rising about their remaing forces.

Leisha's eyes closed and her head bowed for reverence when Saphire began to speak. Her breath was holding itself in her throat she listened and then felt it settle in upon her. A shocking new sensation. Her eyes opened wide and she slowly looked up, her open eyes now the only sign of what had so shocked her. She could... *feel* Saphire Sedai inside her head now! It was like there were two people, almost, in her mind. She watched as the Sedai smiled and kissed her forehead and she smiled then, too, a touch in shock with it. She slowly rose to her feet, her head tilting up slightly as she looked upon the woman who was now *her* Aes Sedai. "Until the end, Sedai, I am yours," she vowed once more, with a bow of her head again, then lifting her dark eyes to meet Saphire's, both alight.

Leaping from the saddle, Sigmund hit the ground with an impressive clatter of armor. Cleaning the blade of his sword on a Trolloc's crude coat, he returned his cruel blade to it's sheath. Tearing the coat of one of his fallen comrades, he bundled it into a crude compress and held it against his profusely bleeding cheek. He watched and listened as Saphire Bonded Leisha.

Sigmund raised an eyebrow and looked down his nose, openly showing his disapproval. She is a good choice, yes. But there is no need for a something this informal. Were Leisha not a commoner, she would be disgusted with this. He sighed. I must mold her next Bond better. At least Leisha restored some dignity to the ceremony with her oath.

Turning away from the sight, Sigmund looked over his steed for injuries, scratching Manshimar'ji behind the ears and speaking softly so that he would know he did well.

Shyne had very little time to lie on his broken arm before standing up and continuing the fight. It seemed, however, that in that very little time the fight was over. In the blur of pain he couldn't remember fighting for long, if at all, before everything was said and done.

Before long the fires went out in the valley below and the warriors on the hill dusted themselves off and looked around at the various dead scattered around. They had fought a major victory here today and something truly tremendous had happened. They'd all gone through a lot and to a person there was the realization that things had changed. For now, though, it was time to head back to the Tower.

Shyne just stood by, waiting for orders. While he waited he searched out the sword his arm had dropped and sheathed it akwardly. He would be left-handed until a Yellow could be found, but it was the least of what had happened to him this day. And the day wasn't over...

It was over too soon Kira thought as she came to a stand. She had just taken a tumble to get out of reach of some Trolloc's sword, but she suspected the fall hurt her as much as the sword would have. There must have been every rock in the valley just in the area she had fallen. At least nothing seemed broken, she hoped. She grabbed her ashanderei, which had fallen to rest near her when the Trolloc had fallen to wolves.

She looked towards the others, then loped over to stand near them where Shyne had been before searching out his sword. She held her tounge, realizing that here she had no rank with which to speak, but hopefully that would change soon.

She turned around to face the wolves that were left, saying, Thank you for helping us, Brothers and Sisters. The two-legs and the Wolfkin appreciate it. Good hunting, she said to them, sending them off with a blessing. Not many were hurt, and those had been were too far gone to save. She felt the departing presence of her own pack, and she sent a thought of hunting uner the moon to them before their presence was gone totally. Then, she turned back to the others.

Chapter Five: Where the Ripples End
~Ripple One: Meanings
~Ripple Two: The Hall
~Ripple Three: Decisions
~Ripple Four: The Messenger
~Ripple Five: Shadow
~Ripple Six: The Clawstone
~Riple Seven: The Claw Stone Aftermath
~The Final Ripple

Return to the Ripples Intro