Hi, I'm back! *ducks behind chair to avoid stones*
Right, I hope you've had your fun throwing things at me, so please let me go so that I can write some more. This chapter might not flow too well, it's been too long since I've worked on this story, but I am getting back into the WoT now that my other story is finished. They are so different my mind is struggling to get back into the heads of Rand, Galad and the rest.
Read and enjoy this tame (probably lame) chapter. Oh and as always, try to ignore my typos… more about that at the end.
Books and scrolls, some centuries old, surrounded Rand in organised groups. The stacks came naturally. Beyond the light of the candles on the table the library was as dark as the night outside. He wore a rumpled set of breeches; the sweet covered shirt came from the finest tailors in Tear. A black jacket, similar to the one Moiraine had given him lay on the floor; the silver dragons stitched on the collar mocking.
Callandor, a sa'angreal no man would leave lying around, sat nestled between the various folds of the jacket. It complemented the dragons well. For the briefest of moments his eyes lingered on the sword. The cold feeling of dread followed. The sa'angreal unnerved him; so much power should not belong to a single man. He, however, knew of sa'angreal even more powerful, could remember them in his roughs hands. The thought was almost as unsettling as seeing Callandor.
One thing was certain, the voice he'd heard had gone. His thoughts were distracted when soft feet against stone floor signalled someone's arrival. Had it been one of the Aiel he'd not have heard.
"Is my Lord Dragon comfortable?" It was the sweet tempting voice of Berelain. She had proven herself a capable advisor over the past few days; though he tired of the constant advances. He should have known better than to let the woman close, but distance might have made her even more troublesome.
"I am, thank you." The reply was made without glancing in her direction. Looking made refusing her more difficult; she was very beautiful. In all his years he had not known a dozen women as well proportioned. Beneath the table his hand clenched tightly. Those thoughts couldn't be real, how could they be?
A shadow crossed his face as the young ruler of Mayenne moved silently towards him. "Would my Lord Dragon not prefer reading someplace where there is more light? I know of a few places in the Stone which lends itself better to studying."
He did not doubt that the best light in all of Tear would be in her rooms and the brightest part on her bed.
"It has grown rather dark." The reply came behind closed eyes as Rand let himself slip deep within the void. He gritted his teeth while waiting for the wave of taint induced sickness to drench his bones. It never did, and it took a moment to remember that the taint would not be touching him again. Saidin, flowing through his veins, felt like it had always felt before; violent, but blissfully pure.
His eyes opened to a very worried looking Berelain kneeling before him. Her concerned gaze lingered on his face. Tender fingers paused mere inches from away from his cheek. "Are you well, my Lord Dragon? I know of a good healer."
Pushing himself to his feet Rand tried to place some distance between himself and Berelain. She made to follow, but a raised hand stopped her. "I'm fine, my Lady First. I have little need for your Aes Sedai advisor." His back straightened and he hoped his expression softened. "I think I'm still a bit tired from what happened the other day."
Berelain did reply to his knowledge about her advisor. Her features did darken somewhat with concern. They could not know, or understand, the full extent of what he'd done that night on the battlements. The taint had been cleansed. He feared few would believe. Rand turned away from Berelain thinking about Galad; he would have noticed the change by now.
"Would my Lord Dragon like something to aid your recovery?" Her voice dropped, it sounded almost shy. "There are methods to help a man forget and heal."
He shook his head, trying to remain calm. The woman probably did know of methods to make a man forget. "I thank you for the consideration, but the Maidens have taking good care of me."
Turning, he found Berelain bristling with anger. "They would not know how to care for you properly…"
"They mean me no harm and can care for me as well as any mother could." For a brief moment she appeared confused, but her eyebrow did rise slightly as if to question that statement.
"Of course, my Lord Dragon." She bowed in acquiescence then began to retreat.
"Have you received any news about Elayne Mantear?" The question slipped from his lips.
Berelain stiffened. "No, but your wife should be save within the White Tower as you well know, my Lord Dragon." This time she made his title sound like a curse.
"Of course, I am sorry."
She bent down gracefully while being able to show a hint of soft skin, but not too much, as she retrieved the book he had been reading. "The Prophecies of Dragon." The words came out slowly while studying the neat groups of books and scrolls. Her finger rested on the open page. "Do you find this difficult to follow?"
Rand shrugged. "It's as clear as any other book in this place."
"I did not know that you could read the Old Tongue so fluently."
"Old Tongue?" Rand questioned, before nodding as it dawned on him. "Of course, I do know a bit." Those memories were becoming so much a part of him. Each passing moment saw the boundary between Rand and Lews Therin diminish. He could only guess at how long Rand would still be.
She seemed perplexed. "This book is old, even my most learned scholars have difficulty translating these pages."
Rand took a step towards her, then paused. Reaching out, he took hold of the book. The script, which had come so naturally to him, more so than even his own hand, was indeed the Old Tongue. Yet it was not the Old Tongue. It was, he realised, the language in which he had been thinking.
"You are a man full of surprises, my Lord Dragon."
He had no reply. He was Rand Mantear and some part of him tried to say that he was Lews Therin. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for the response from a man long dead; it did not come. A memory began to coalesce then it faded into obscurity like a dream upon waking. A small part of the image remained; he was an Aes Sedai. He let out a loud laugh.
Berelain, dropping to the ground, startled him. The book she had been holding moments before lay fallen on the floor.
He stopped laughing and asked in calm voice. "Are you alright, my Lady First?"
Her pale face dared not look at him. "Don't hurt me. Please, my Lord Dragon."
Her words surprised him. "I mean neither you nor Mayenne any harm, Berelain Peandrag." She did not look relieved. "I apologise for my sudden outburst. I just had the most intriguing idea." He held out a hand, which she reluctantly accepted, to help her up. "Perhaps all the strain of the week has begun to take its toll." He rested a hand on her shoulder; she was so young. "I owe much of my sanity to your hard work."
The woman's poise returned quickly. "I understand, my Lord Dragon."
He smiled, it felt genuine. "Please, we are alone. You can call me Rand."
"Of course, Rand." She tested the name on her lips even though she'd used it before.
"That was not too difficult, Berelain. Is it alright if I call you by your first name?"
She looked slightly unsure. "You may."
"I would be pleased if you could help me with my reading, Berelain."
"I am not sure if I can help, Rand" she replied quickly. The eagerness to please and be of use was not missed. She was a very brave woman to risk working with a man she thought insane to help Mayenne.
He retrieved the book on the floor. "You are a learned woman. I am sure you are aware of many things." Despite foreign concepts creeping into his mind, Rand still knew nothing about the prophecies nor of recent events.
Rand spent the next few hours and days gleaming as much as he could from her mind about the Prophecies and the world. He also began stretching his strength in the One Power. Mostly, however, he stood staring out across the land towards the horizon as he surrendered to memories old and long forgotten while trying to make peace with them. The process neither kind nor quick, but fighting would only lead to madness. One thing was certain; as the days went by he grew ever more powerful and skilled.
Galad sat on a rock overlooking the stream flowing beneath. He had spent a lot of time here the past few days. He'd sit and watch the water while working on the void and seizing saidin. It came quickly now, more importantly he managed to always touch the source.
He glanced away from the flowing water to the soldiers sitting in the distance. A sickness had hit the group a few days after Perrin had saved the life of an Aiel man. It had forced them to camp and wait to recover. Moiraine had not been spared, but she looked to be better with each passing day. Only a few men had been not become ill.
Those healthy enough had spent most of their time tending to the sick. Perrin and Mat, followed by the intriguing young woman who called herself Faile, had done the most hunting. The Hunter of the Horn had tried her best to show she was as skilled as them; she was not far behind.
Captain Bawyn and Lan had spent most of each day scouting the surrounding hills. In the evenings they worked on Galad's swordsmanship. His skills were refined almost as rapidly as his ability to seize saidin.
Galad stood to toss a small rock into the river. It had been three weeks since they left Fal Dara and still they had not reached Rand in Tear, nor heard any news.
Leaves rustled and a small twig broke under someone's foot. "How are you feeling, Galad?" The female voice was welcoming even if it did sound weaker than usual.
He faced his aunt. If he had not known she'd been ill he'd never have noticed the slight tiredness in her eyes. "It is good to see you walking about, Moiraine."
"I had to be awake this morning."
He raised an eyebrow in question. "I assume you have a reason."
"Of course," the woman replied cryptically. She glanced at the sword on his hip. "How has your training been?"
"Interesting," Galad nodded. "Lan and Bawyn have been working me hard." He paused. "I have not been working on my other talent."
"That is most wise, Galad."
He nodded. "Though I did practise touching the source." His eyes grew wide; remembering the feel of the One Power. "Once you have touched it there is no going back."
The small Aes Sedai nodded. "The danger may have passed. You're control appears to be quite extraordinary."
He let a grin form. "Being trained to be a blademaster helps, I think. The conditioning of the mind and body is similar."
"Indeed." She began to walk down towards the river where a sand bank was beginning to surface. She stopped at the water's edge and stared upstream then downstream.
"We have to leave today. The Two River's boys have both told me that the Rand's pull on them has been growing stronger."
"Are you well enough to ride?"
She stood motionless. "I have to be."
"I shall gather Mat and Perrin. Captain Bawyn and the Hunter of the Horn would probably want to join us. The rest of the camp can make their way towards Tear at their own pace."
The wind blew briskly above the battlements. Rand was stripped down to the waist. Damp skin glistened in the afternoon light as he worked through a myriad of sword forms. Only a few had been taught by Lan or Tam. Most came from instructors long since dead.
He had been four when his father had first begun to teach him how to hold a blade. By seven he had duelled in a league against children older than him. At the tender age of eleven Rand had won his first tournament.
His body remained perfectly balanced as he stood on the stone floor. Guards and nobles stood staring in awe. Even Rand felt it, the body he'd had before did not have a tenth of the Aiel strength, agility, flexibility and speed.
The realisation had developed slowly over the past week. The voice had never been there. It had merely been the surfacing of old memories. Those images now belonged exclusively to him. So complete was the merging that he had to think hard about not speaking in the Old Tongue, a language he'd spoken for over 300 years. It was much more refined than this common language the people used. Scientific words were all but non-existent. How man had fallen since his death.
His body uncoiled and he relished the ability to move so quickly. Forms previously unthinkable flowed as naturally as walking. The Heron Marked blade, similar to the one he'd owned before, flashed brightly in the sunlight.
When he stopped the nobles clapped enthusiastically; all of them wanting to be favoured. The Aiel either glared or ignored him. Rand flicked his sword as if to clean the blade of blood then sheathed it all in a single flowing motion. The nobles stiffened. Rand bent down to retrieve a small cloth which he dabbed across his face.
He'd grown used to being alone; Berelain being the only real company over the past week. Aviendha, he sighed. That woman was a true enigma. There was just something about her that tugged at his soul. Ashamedly, he'd even tried flirting with her. The Aiel Maiden had almost put a spear through his neck. Had he not channelled a small amount of saidin to keep the edge away his shave would have been a lot closer.
He used the cloth to dry his hair a bit. It was tempting to weave a gateway, to simply walk back home, to find his friends. It would be folly and he knew it. A Forsaken loomed nearby. Rand had sensed him at times. If news spread of him travelling then the Forsaken would be alerted of Rand's rediscovered skills. Rand had flexed his strength, growing to almost his full power, but he'd been careful to perform only the most basic of weaves in public. Though the time for revealing was approaching.
Lanfear lurked in the back of his mind as she remained quiet; though the only true threat from her would be in the world of dreams. A place he avoided like the plague. Despite the risk he warded his dreams.
What troubled him the most were rumours of a red door ter'angreal. A place to get answers to questions he desperately needed.
Before leaving the battlements Rand gripped Callandor, which had been lying next to his shirt. There was one last task this morning. The nobles followed like the ignorant sheep they were. Aiel followed in silence.
He stopped only when he reached the space Callandor had once hung. He lifted the sa'angreal into the air, seized saidin, then plunged it down. When he let go the most powerful item currently known to man hung suspended as before, untouchable to any but him. He whirled around dramatically, sweat covered body still glistening.
"Remember that while Callandor hangs in the Stone I will have my mind on you." He stood with a straight back, men and women dabbed at cheeks as sweat dribbled down worried faces. "You serve me until Tarmon Gaidon."
He strode away from Callandor and through the nervous crowd. This time they did not follow. Rand felt exposed now that the sa'angreal was not on his person, but he could no longer look after it every waking minute. No, the sword would be safe. If a Forsaken could have retrieved it then it would already have been gone.
Two maidens flanked him; Aviendha and Chiad. Rand grunted, the two women loved to make his life as difficult as possible.
It was a gloomy morning when Galad, riding alongside Bawyn, rode into Tear. Moiraine rode slightly ahead with Lan, while Mat, Perrin and Faile made up the rear. People were staring, pointing. The group rode on through muddy streets, ignoring the Tairens as best they could, towards the Stone of Tear, which towered above like some waiting monster.
News had reached them on the road. It varied wildly, but they did agree that the Dragon Reborn controlled Tear and that he held Callandor. The thought of all the Power his half-brother held made Galad thankful the taint had been cleansed.
"It seems the Stone is occupied by Aiel," Bawyn said with an edge to his voice.
Galad followed the man's gaze to a tall red haired soldier standing to side of the road with a spear in hand. "The people appear calm enough around him."
The Captain shook his head. "They are not panicking, but they keep their distance."
"I would as well if legends are to be believed."
Moiraine dropped back slightly. "Do not believe everything you have heard of Aiel. They are a complicated people, not driven by bloodlust. Not completely."
From behind Mat muttered something in the Old Tongue, a common occurrence lately. They group eventually reached the entrance to the Stone where they were confronted not only by Aiel, but Tairen soldiers as well.
A large local guard took a step towards them. "State your business."
Moiraine raised herself to her full height, Galad felt his skin prickle; she grew just a bit bigger. "I am Moiraine Sedai. I have come to talk to the Dragon Reborn."
The guard's eyes widened slightly. He looked back at his companions; one of them nodded. "Of course, Aes Sedai. If you would wait in the courtyard."
Galad could sense her anger at being told to wait. Her voice betrayed none of those feelings. "Thank you."
As the group rode past the guards stiffened. Three Blademasters and an Aes Sedai made for an dangerous group. The courtyard beyond the gate was large, as would have been expected. Stone steps led up to the fortress itself. There were Aiel, but not as many as he'd expected.
"Who are we waiting for?" Perrin asked uneasily after dismounting. Their horses were taken by servants and led to the stables.
"I do not know, Perrin." Moiraine stood calmly even though she had not let go of the One Power. Galad did not seize saidin, instead he let his hand rest on the hilt of his sword.
It did not take long for the large doors of an entrance to open. A woman, accompanied by two Aiel guards appeared. She floated down the stone steps towards them, each stride more graceful than any Aes Sedai he'd ever seen.
His eyes travelled up her blue dress towards the pale skin of her face. Dark, narrowed, eyes studied the group as she walked. Black hair hung well past her shoulders and a golden diadem graced her forehead. The world grew slightly out of focus and he thanked the Light he had been standing still.
The beautiful woman, perfection herself, halted before Moiraine. "Greetings, Aes Sedai. I am Berelain sur Paendrag. The First of Mayenne, Regent of Tear and advisor to the Dragon Reborn."
Galad swallowed. He had heard rumours about the beauty of the First of Mayenne, but tales for once did not do her justice. Her voice was as sweet as honey and held a rhythm that tugged at his soul.
Moiraine nodded her head slightly. "Greetings, Lady First. I am Moiraine Sedai. We have travelled from Fal Dara to aid the Dragon Reborn."
Berelain, who had yet to look at the rest of them, studied the Aes Sedai. "The Dragon Reborn spoke highly of you, Aes Sedai."
"Where is he?" Mat stomped forwards. "Doesn't he wish to speak to his old friends? Or has he become too much of a Lord?"
"Matrim Cauthon," Moiraine said sternly. "That is no way to speak to a Queen."
Berelain held up a hand. "I hear Rand's speech in your voice. Are you from the Two Rivers?"
Mat threw his hands up in the air. "He doesn't even mention us to her. Come on Perrin, let's leave."
The Lady First's voice grew cold. "The Dragon Reborn has and will have many enemies, Matrim. It is wise for him to keep his friends distant at times." Mat muttered under his breath, but did not walk away.
Galad was still having difficulty keeping his eyes off Berelain as she faced Lan who introduced himself. Then Bawyn. "A Captain of House Mantear. The Dragon Reborn will be pleased."
The soldier bowed respectively. "I am here to serve."
She moved along. "Perrin Aybarra, from the Two Rivers." She nodded her head slightly in greeting. She said nothing of his yellow eyes, maybe Rand had spoken to her about them.
Mat mumbled something, but bowed very formally. She greeted him the same as Perrin, but her eyes became thin slits at the sight of Faile.
The young woman curtsied. "I am Faile, a Hunter of the Horn."
Berelain halted. "You are from Saldaea?"
"Yes, Lady First."
"And what is your real name?"
The girls stiffened. "It is of no importance, Lady First."
Berelain did not move away. "That will not do, Faile. If I am to allow you near the Dragon Reborn then I must know your name. You have the air of nobility, I can hear it in your voice. Nobles tend to have daggers hidden in the most interesting places."
Galad noticed the way Moiraine stiffened slightly. He resisted the urge to laugh, she had not studied the young Saldaean closely enough.
"I am Zarine Bashere. Daughter of Davram Bashere, Lord of Bashere, Tyr, and Sidona, Guardian of the Blightborder, Defender of the Heartland, and Marshal-General to Queen Tenobia."
"Blood and bloody ashes! Is everyone bloody nobility!" Mat shouted while jumping backwards. Perrin hung his head. Bawyn and Lan looked the least troubled; perhaps they had guessed.
The Lady First did not react in any discernible manner. "You are far from home, Lady Bashere. It might be wise to hide from enemies, but not friends."
Zarine looked chastised, eyes lowered. "I am Faile, Lady First."
Berelain inclined her head slightly then turned to face Galad. Her lips parted slightly. "Greetings, sir." Her voice sounded raspier than a moment before. "I…" she shook her head. "I am Berelain."
She held out a hand. He knelt and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her soft, smooth hand. She smelled of flowers. He barely managed to stand slowly. Her scent lingered in the air. Looking up at her face he noticed the golden hawk in flight on the diadem. "I am Lord Galadedrid Damodred."
Berelain inhaled deeply, chest rising. "Welcome. I will have servants show you to your quarters." She turned away from Galad, though her dark eyes stayed with him a moment longer. "The Dragon Reborn will meet with you when he is ready."
Berelain stumbled into her office, hand clutching the nearest chair to steady herself. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, something she'd never felt before. How had the Lord with dark hair and eyes done that to her?
A young serving girl entered through a side door. "Does my lady require something?"
"No," Berelain said breathlessly. "I am quite alright."
"Of course, my Lady." The girl bowed then left. The peace was not to last.
She straightened as a loud nock came from the door she'd used. "Enter."
Rand strode into her office. He wore a jacket of red and gold again. It made him look regal while emphasising his broad, strong shoulders. "The Maidens told me that some people arrived a few moments ago."
Berelain nodded. "Indeed, Rand. Moiraine Sedai and a small group." She hesitated for a moment. "Do you know a Galadedrid Damodred?"
Rand stiffened and her heart sank a little. "Why do you ask?"
Her head began to spin, and her legs grew a bit weak. An urge to tell him everything overwhelmed her. "I do not know of him, but Galadedrid is the most handsome, charming man I have ever met and I want to be with him." The spinning sensation vanished and she let out a gasp of surprise, hand covering her mouth.
Rand shifted his weight from foot to foot looking guilty. "That must have been my ta'veren nature. It is not my place to force you to speak your private thoughts. Please accept my apology, Berelain."
She sighed, the damage done. "There is no need to apologise. I am sorry for asking about him, Rand."
His face relaxed. "Galadedrid, we call him Galad, is my half-brother. I am surprised you did not immediately connect us to our mother - Tigraine Mantear."
Her eyes widened, she'd had rarely felt so foolish. "Of course."
The Dragon Reborn laughed joyfully. "You cannot know or understand everything."
Some of the embarrassment vanished, but she did reply firmly. "The Lady First cannot afford mistakes. She must know everything."
Rand nodded sadly. The look in his eyes made it seem like he understood the sentiment more than most kings.
"Before we go to meet my friends I would like to ask about a certain door ter'angreal and a supposed horde of items of power here in Tear. I understand the door itself was once owned by Mayenne."
"Of course." She began to tell him about the wealth of ter'angreal the Stone held as they meandered through the fortress.
Rand entered the large throne room to find his friends standing around nervously. Berelain waited by the door as he hurried towards them. He eagerly greeted Mat, Perrin and Galad. He felt the Aes Sedai's shock when wrapped his long arms around her to lift her into the air.
"Rand," she tried to sound stern when he placed her or the ground again.
"I know you love me, Moiraine Sedai." He bowed down onto one knee and kissed the back of her hand. "It feels good to have friends here."
She gave a soft laugh. "That depends, Rand." Her eyes turned away from him and his skin tingled very faintly. A woman holding onto the One Power had entered the hall.
"That would be Berelain's advisor; Annoura Larisen. She is of the Gray Ajah as I am sure you know well." Moiraine gave a slight gesture for him to continue. "She arrived a few days after I took Callandor. I am of yet unsure how much information she has been passing on to the White Tower." Moiraine looked thoughtful. "I suspect she is keeping much information from her Sisters at Berelain's instruction."
"Berelain is trying to secure Mayenne's position. The longer she has me here to maintain the position of Regent of Tear the stronger her rule and country become."
"The High Lords must be worried."
"Very," Rand agreed quickly. "I have managed to keep them busy. Most are out in the lands organising grain to be shipped to Cairhien." She arched and eyebrow in question. "Your home city has run into some difficulties of late. Food is being sent with the blessing of the Dragon Reborn." She wanted to ask more, but he spoke again. "Though that is of little consequence. More importantly the Amyrlin Seat, together with a large group of Sisters, is a day's journey away from Tear. They should be arriving tomorrow morning."
"Why would she leave the White Tower?"
"How could she not knowing the Dragon Reborn ruled Tear? She stayed in the Tower for a couple of weeks in the hope that I would travel to her." He shook his head. "But I am no man or woman's pet dog on a leash. If she wishes to speak then she must come to me."
Moiraine could not stop her mind screaming as she watched Rand speak to Galad. This was not the boy she had spoken to the night he disappeared; still it was him. The small mannerisms that made him Rand were still there even if more subdued. He spoke with such certainty and ease. None of the usual Two Rivers speech, even if his accent still placed him of that region.
The First of Mayenne approached. "You've taught him well."
The young woman shook her head. "At first he was like a babe, but as the days continued he grew into a giant." Her wide dark eyes stared back at Moiraine. "I do not begin to comprehend him, Moiraine Sedai."
Rand was looking at them, one hand touching his ear. Moiraine had never seen him do that before. Galad was speaking in a low voice, face ever so slightly blushed.
"Neither do I, my Lady. Rand seems to be unique among men."
Annoura joined them. "Greetings, Moiraine Sedai." They quickly sensed each other's Power; the other woman bowed her head respectively to Moiraine.
"Greetings, Annoura Sedai. Has there been any news from the White Tower?"
"The Amyrlin Seat is about a day's journey from Tear. I am hoping to keep the news from the Dragon Reborn."
Moiraine shook his head. "The man already knows." She let her eyes narrow. "I find myself perhaps more surprised than you Annoura, but I have learned today that Rand Mantear is no fool."
"It is not possible for him to know. I alone have read the letter sent by the Amyrlin."
Beside the Aes Sedai Berelain looked ready to explode. "When were you going to inform me of this development?"
The Gray Sister did not look repentant. "There was no reason for you to be aware, my Lady."
Berelain smoothed her dress. "I will no longer be requiring your services." Then she strode away, leaving the hall, before allowing either Aes Sedai to respond.
Moiraine found herself drifting away from her fellow sister as well to talk to Rand. She could not get her mind passed the fact that he looked even taller and more regal. The new red jacket, stitched with golden threads, emphasised strength not to be underestimated. "What are you planning for tomorrow?"
Rand stopped laughing at a joke Mat had told. "Do you know the game, Sha'rah?"
"I do not, Rand."
"It matters little." He waved his hand in the air slightly. "Few still know the mechanics of the game." His grey eyes appeared ancient. It was akin to looking at an old Aes Sedai. They held the years of wisdom, but bodies had long since began to fade. Rand held more wisdom in a single gaze and it was trapped within a body still young and powerful. "I am playing a game, Moiraine. The world is the prize, myself the biggest piece. The Amyrlin Seat, like you, Moiraine, will try to manipulate me. Turn me into some tool to do your bidding. I am no man's tool but my own." The last words were said with a firmness unheard from men so young. She fought the urge to swallow. Lan fidgeted, feeling her distress.
"I understand, Rand." She wanted to know what was happening.
He nodded. "But today I would like to spend with my friends and family." He actually smiled. "That includes you, Moiraine. But not Moiraine Sedai."
Rand turned to Mat and Perrin, her chance of gleaming anything faded with it. The sheepherder from the Two Rivers had come to fore.
Again sorry for the delay. This will probably be my focus again. I hope to update a bit more regularly, at least it shouldn't be months like before.
I hope you liked the chapter. Not much happening, but the next one should be a bit more interesting as everyone converges again. It's partially written, but needs some expanding.
About Rand developing quickly. I kind of figure that because the taint is cleansed (not fearing madness) and because he grew up with a greater understanding of the world (his mother) that he accepted the memories quicker instead of fighting them. Once he made the mental shift to accept them they quickly took over. And I guess 300 years of knowledge will help a man develop skills and strength rather quickly. You are free to disagree.
Oh, Rand is not omnipotent. His got skills and memories, but we all know from the Forsaken that Age of Legends knowledge doesn't always mean you can simply trample over people. I assume most of what he knows is irrelevant. I mean just imagine yourself going back 2000 years. Apart from some relevant information he's basically got his skills and what he learned from Berelain, Moiraine and his mother.
One last thing. If anyone would like to volunteer to help beta this story. I probably need the help… seems I'm struggling with homophones even if I know the difference. When reviewers point them out I just sit here hitting myself over the head before looking up at the ceiling and asking why. I could also use help with facts and just getting things straight. I tend to get lost in my story and forgetting blatant things.
So, yeah, if you'd like to help out then please pm me (not in the review please as that is for reviews or flames depending on how you're feeling). And if you are willing to go over the previous chapters, including this one, I'll return the favour with an amazon voucher or something. You can even get me to change stuff, I'm open to suggestions. I really am looking for someone who knows their grammar as that will allow me to learn.
Thank you for reading and reviewing.