This is the final part of my story about Nemene, and her transformation during the Collapse. Thank you for all the comments and feedback, I really appreciate them. I'm going to probably start writing about the other Forsaken too, because it is an area which interests me.

The Legend that was Nemene – Part 3

It had been six weeks since Nemene had arrived at what was once Hesiego Island – the world's most popular holiday destination. The island was a tropical paradise set in lush greenery with soft, sandy beaches. Its temperate weather was warm and comforting, and the turquoise seas were almost fictional in their perfection. There were hotels which decorated the horizon ranging from the plain to the spectacularly luxurious. She had spent several vacations on the island, basking in what could only be described as the most extravagant accommodation in the world.

Staring out of the stone window, Nemene coolly surveyed what could only be described as a radical transformation. On the same day that the Collam Daan in M'Jinn had been destroyed by an uncontrolled science experiment, the island had been leveled by a force which the rare survivor described as a wave of darkness. It had been ascribed to Pattern aftershocks which frequently followed major Power events. Whatever the cause, she couldn't believe what she was looking at when Duram brought her here.

The barren landscape was thick with a parched acidic stench, the air so hot it burned with every breath she took. The land was a charred wasteland, with no evidence of any plant or animal life. Near to the centre of the island rose a colossal black mountain, its peak rising thousands of feet into the air and emitting a vast volume of black smoke and ash. The ash rose to a dizzying height before it settled into a dark cloud which filtered the sunlight down to an eerie glow. The sides of the mountain contained several large arched entrances, the glow of the mountain's burning heart reflected from within. The soft beaches had been replaced with dark rock as sharp as glass, and the sea was as black as midnight as far as the eye could see.

Nemene was vexed. She expected to attend a conference where these new colleagues of hers would welcome her to their organization. Idly, she thought back to that day six weeks ago. They had walked in silence towards a huge gray fortress which lay a few miles from the great peak of Shayol Ghul, as it had been named. Duram had escorted her to her chambers, which lay high up on the west side of the building. Her chambers were spacious and ornately decorated with the finest livery. She couldn't help but feel disconcerted that her arrival had been seen as predictable, or worse … inevitable. He had politely informed her that none of the other members of their alliance were present on the island, but that their absence was only temporary due to other engagements. Her instructions had been clear … she was to set-up a hospital on the island which would be dedicated to the interrogation of their enemies. The hospital would be built to any specifications she wished, but research focusing on the improvement of her Talents would be an absolute requirement.

Duram had greeted her curtly, his smile still flickering to his newly-acquired angreal as he made his way to the elevator. Immediately Nemene searched for any wards placed in her rooms, and was scandalized to find fourteen culprit webs laced around the immediate area. Unravelling them had taken most of the day, and she had spent some time thereafter weaving her own wards to prevent any unwanted guests from entering her domain. Climate modulators were part of the décor in her chambers, but she could sense their exhaustion in their efforts to convert the hellish environment into a pleasant internal ambience. Embracing saidar, she wove Water, Air and Fire and placed the nets over the open windows and watched with satisfaction as the passing harsh gases were filtered into cool breathable air.

It had taken her two weeks to formulate the design for her new hospital. The hospital was deep black on the outside, but its interior was as white as Satellian silk. Although black remained her colour of choice, she had been accustomed to working in white cueran hospitals for most of her life, and grudgingly she had to admit, that old habits were difficult to shake off. That was where the similarities ended, however. The hospital was a Restorer's worst nightmare … its rooms designed to harvest the most primitive insecurities in every patient, such as solitude, hopelessness, despair and fear. Every one of the chambers was set with a sterile ambience and designed for individual patients, with a glass-windowed gallery above for her to monitor the progress of her efforts, or perhaps for interested guests to marvel at her accomplishments. It was of dire importance to her that every patient could exact her individual attention, and so they would … up to three hundred of them at a time. Among other things, she had included the plans for research laboratories, anatomy research areas with facilities for both living and deceased patients, a conference room to present her findings to curious parties, and a small morgue which she did not intend to use. Death was an escape which she would not accept. A few days after she had submitted her designs to the required attendant, she had awoken one morning to see the building in its completed state a few miles east of the fortress. It had obviously been constructed with the Power, but she sensed no saidar residues in the surrounding area, which implied a solitary male effort of very great strength and dexterity in Earth.

For the weeks thereafter she had directed the administration of her hospital. Granted, there were no patients yet, but that did not exclude the need to maintain her prestigious workplace. There were over one thousand attendants who served the hospital and they fulfilled all the requirements needed to run a large health facility. Oddly, none of these servants or any of the five hundred staff in the fortress could channel, or even had the potential to learn. That was a paradox which she had encountered within a few days of exploring the area. It could mean only thing - channelers were being actively excluded, for the time being at least. They called themselves the Friends of the Dark, which seemed diabolical yet impotent, in her opinion. What darkness did they pretend to serve, anyway?

She had not seen Duram again since that last encounter six weeks previously, but she had received an elec-mail this morning on her communications array, requesting her presence in the main foyer as soon as possible. This was a rare communication, from anyone really, and it was small wonder that she hastily made her way to the elevator. Her footsteps echoed on the gleaming marble floors, and after a brief trip in the elevator, she strode into the foyer. A tall man in black attire with very dark combed-back hair was facing away from her. He held his hands behind his back and was examining a gold bust of Lews Therin which had been awkwardly placed here. She hated all Aes Sedai, but the Dragon could give pause to anyone, and if there was to be a statue of anyone, even in a criminal organization, then his would probably be the most worthy. The tall man surely heard her approach, but he seemed mesmerized by the statue and almost as immobile. Stopping short, she sniffed impatiently, but it had no effect.

"I am Nemene Damendar Boann. I received an elec-mail to meet someone here. Are you that person?" she asked crisply. The man continued staring at the statue, but her instincts told her that he was suddenly smiling. He was trying her patience, which was almost imperturbable, but her mercy was far more limited than most.

"I will ask one more time. Are you the man who sent me this elec-mail?"

Once again the man made no response, and as she opened her mouth to inform him of his dire error in crossing paths with her, he slowly turned around. Before she could stop herself, her jaw dropped and she stood gaping. His name was Elan Morin Tedronai, and he was one of the great philosophers of the Age. Nemene was considered an intellectual by most of her peers, but after purchasing his last bestseller, the Absence of Meaning, she could barely comprehend the underlying message of the first chapter and had thrown the book away. Elan was an Aes Sedai of great repute, but he was an intensely private person who shared very little interest in fame. His lectures at universities around the world attracted enormous crowds, and he was a personal acquaintance of most world leaders. His mind was far too powerful for her to bend it to her will and answer her questions. This did not worry her, however, as answers would eventually come, even if that process felt infuriatingly slow. What did concern her was that his presence implied his allegiance to their organization. A revelation of this magnitude to the general public would cause an outcry which would rival any uprising seen in recorded years. His revocation of the Aes Sedai order would make her expulsion seem trivial. He was also famed for his enormous strength in the One Power. There were only eight registered category 1a channelers in the world, and Lews Therin and Elan Morin constituted two of them. It might explain the rapid construction of her hospital, but she would never ask him the question, no matter how much it irked her. Duram's warning about the strength of her allies suddenly rang true in the back of her head. She felt the desire to embrace the Source, but her efforts would shout her insecurities to him, and she resisted. It was not in her nature to feel insecure, but when the largest fish in the bowl was suddenly placed in a pond of equally large fish, then doubt was inevitable. There was indeed a smile on his face, but it slowly disappeared into a grim demeanor, the vestige of an analyst whose mind pierced those below him. He was a man who considered issues on several levels, and understood mysteries which few could begin to comprehend. He opened his mouth to speak, his lips almost twisting into a snarl when he spoke.

"You know who I am, Nemene. I'm glad we could convince you to see things our way. Refusal of our generous offer would mean death, either now or in the near future." His voice was filled with confidence and heat. Nemene maintained her cool serenity, which was never easy when one was in the company of such a powerful presence.

"As with all your allies, Elan, the welcome has been warm and receiving. As I said, I have pledged myself to your cause. Now, could we discuss why you hailed me?" He was a dangerous man to bait, but nobody threatened her, not even a man of his stature.

His piercing gaze continued to transfix upon her, but she didn't allow it to have any bearing on her composure. "We can. I have never been one for trivial talk anyway. I am here because my Master has felt it is time that you two become acquainted."

Nemene was surprised at this revelation, though she showed no sign of it. "You mean that there is someone who stands above you?" The leader of their alliance must be a powerful person indeed.

Elan barked a short, contemptuous laugh. "Did I not say so? Follow me." He turned away from her and she watched as a large gateway formed a pace in front of him. She sensed nothing, of course, but she had seen male gateways form before and this one seemed different … violent. He stepped through, and without pause she followed him. He had taken them to one of the openings in the mountainside. "Follow the path. He is waiting for you. Do not embrace the Source at any time, or your life will be forfeit." A strange warning, but she decided to not to risk it. He had probably warded the tunnel to perform some grotesquery if the Power was detected, for security's sake. She started down the passage maintaining a slow but confident pace without looking back, but she could feel his gaze following her. The passage was narrow but still large enough for her to easily make her way down to the heart of the mountain. The rock was as black as coal, and the razor-sharp rocks protruding from the roof of the tunnel glowed with a reflected red light. The silence was absolute, and not what she would expect from a raging volcano. As she neared the end of the tunnel, her instincts warned her of impending danger, but she remembered Elan's warning and kept the alluring glow of the Source at bay. Leaving the tunnel, she looked in awe at the massive chamber she had entered. The rock path she walked gave off steam and she could feel the heat of the sea of lava floating ten paces below her. The heated gases rose up, causing her hair and cloak to gust upwards, after which they exited through the mouth of the mountain which opened a mile above her, its huge eye opening to a view of the dark sky above. Pacing around the rock face, she spared brief glances for the superheated pool below her. She stood on an isolated cliff face, staring down onto a sea of molten rock. This place was deserted. Suddenly a voice rang from the pool, from everywhere at once. Its sheer power almost crushed her senses into unconsciousness. Falling to her knees, she screamed in terror and in awe. Almost immediately her dress started smoldering, and the skin on her knees blistered away, yet she dared not rise from her submissive posture, even if she could summon the courage to. She had not felt fear for many decades, yet terror filtered into her very being, but at the same time ecstasy. She tried to convince herself that someone had amplified their voice using the One Power, but she knew it was not true. The voice itself contained power, not just volume.

"NEMENE," the voice thundered, the sound of a thousand horns in harmony, yet chaos incarnate, and raw malice such as she had never experienced before. After opening her mouth for the third time, and wiping the tears streaming down her face, she managed a faint reply. "Yes, master. I am here to serve you."

"THAT IS YOUR DESTINY, AS IS THE DESTINY OF EVERY SOUL WHICH INHABITS THIS WORLD. ARE YOU MY CREATURE, NEMENE? WILL YOU SERVE …. SHAI'TAN?"

She assumed his true name was Shai'tan, because as soon as he said it she felt a surge in the mountain which she thought would break her body to dust. Whimpering, she knelt as low as she could, her face inches above the smoldering embers. She could feel her face heating, as the rocks released their energy upwards. She was perspiring heavily, a sure combination of terror and ambient heat. "I will serve you, Great Lord. My soul is yours to command." As soon as these words left her mouth she was lifted into the air and floated above the sea of molten rock. Screaming, she felt his hand – if it could be called that – inscribe his dark mark onto her soul. She felt a connection shoot into her soul, potent and powerful. Suddenly she became more aware of him. She could see dark cords grow from her limbs and body and stretch into infinity, pulsing with an inner black energy, before they vanished again. She could feel his presence. She could feel Elan's, and Duram's … and a few other weak presences many miles away. Her own feelings seemed to ignite into a furnace of unimaginable intensity, her hateful feelings magnified many times, her mercy reduced to untraceable levels. Floating back to the rock face, she felt him caress her with his strength – her singed clothes made anew, and her tear-streaked face returned to its former beauty. She knew she was tied to him now, and she was content.

"NOW YOU ARE MINE, FOREVER. YOU ARE MY CHOSEN. GO INTO THE WORLD AND DO MY WILL."

"It shall be so, Great Lord." Bowing deeply, Nemene turned and walked towards to the tunnel where she had arrived. She was still trying to reconcile these new feelings she was experiencing, as if she had touched saidar for the first time and had experienced the enhanced sensation it provided. This was different. She could feel dark pulses racing into her, almost from everywhere at once. She was aware of Shai'tan's will, aware of her inner dark desires more acutely than ever before, aware of her peers and other dark beings on the island. The One Power provided a feeling of security and the promise of power, but this new energy flowing in her made her almost wildly ambitious and confident. She was so immersed in her feelings that she hadn't paid cognizance to her journey through the tunnel. Amazingly, the walls of the tunnel cleared her head and sides by three paces or more, and the sharp tooth-like projections from the roof had disappeared altogether. If the tunnel could become larger, it could surely become smaller too, which would be well to remember. Elan was waiting for her near to the exit of the cave, and Duram had joined him. Both men looked grave, but they appeared to be looking at her with a new found respect. Duram took a step forward, but Elan stopped him and moved himself. Duram grimaced, but wisely decided not object. Speaking, his voice was as serious as ever, but it had moved from analytical to conversational, if a man such as he could ever be said to be that.

"Now you are one of us. You are Chosen. Not merely chosen to serve him, but Chosen to rule the world in his name, until the end of time."

She had regained her wits, and she didn't feel ashamed for her loss of composure in the Great Lord's presence. If these two had done better under the circumstances, she would burn herself out. "Indeed, now I am Chosen, Elan. Tell me more about the Great Lord."

Smirking, he turned on his heel and started the spiraling descent down the mountainside, with Duram falling at his side. "Walk with us Nemene," he said, but she was already flanking him on the left. He continued as if he expected no less, probably assuming that her subservience was due to rank, when in actual fact she was merely using him for information.

"Everyone knows about the Pattern, and the Creator, but how many really believe its true meaning? The Creator designed the Wheel and used the Source to drive it, but at the same time he performed another feat. He defeated our Master and sealed him outside of Time, in a prison of unbreakable strength, or so we thought. When the scientists at the Collam Daan detected a power flux a few years ago, they inadvertently drilled into his prison and allowed him to touch the Pattern. It was this flux which destroyed the Sharom, and it was his presence which has stemmed the unrest in our world. It is his power, and his influence on the Pattern which will grant us immortality. None of the Chosen will ever die, unless by his hand, or in the process of dominating one another."

Nemene was thirsty for revelations, and she drunk his tale deeply. "I see. So our master is now free. How is it that we can serve him?"

Elan grunted and continued. "He is not free. His prison has been disrupted, and he can touch this world, but he cannot enter the Pattern yet. Our work as Chosen is to aid him to total freedom. When that is done he will break the Wheel and remake Time and Creation in his own image. It is at that time that he can challenge the Creator once more, with us as his generals by his side. As a reward for our efforts, our vows to him promise us immortality, governance and powers which no Aes Sedai has ever dreamed of."

Nemene listened once again. Immortality? That reward would be worth more than any fortune or any power. Aes Sedai lived for centuries, but death and aging came to them as surely as it came to every other living organism. Smiling, she addressed them. "With us at his side, there is no one who can challenge him. Victory is only a matter of time. Surely you don't think that even the greatest of our peers together could ever stand against his strength?"

Elan growled, and Duram looked somber. "There is only one who can stand against him. The Creator knew that the Dark Lord would make a move against him. He set his regent on earth, a divine soldier of the Light made flesh to challenge the Great Lord and his dark generals. Only he can defeat us. Only he has the strength to break us and even our Master in Ages past, and reseal his prison. In Ages past he has done this, and defeated us." His face contorted into a anger, his antagonism for this man plainly etched on his face.

Nemene barely managed to remove the unease and incredulity from her voice. "Who is he, Elan? We must kill him. If he is the prime threat to us, then we should strike without hesitation. Surely he couldn't stands against the three of us combined!"

Elan stared ahead, as if he had considered this in days gone by, but quickly shook his head and spoke. "No. He is greater than any in this world. You know of whom I speak. Lews Therin. It is no co-incidence that he is being called the Dragon. It has been the name of the Creator's Champion since the dawn of Time, and it reappears and brands him in the days before the final battle between the Light and the Shadow. The Pattern protects him, and nurtures him. One day he will fall, as will all who challenge the Great Lord, but until the time is right, I believe his circumstances will allow him to destroy any who stand against him, and in any combination."

Nemene slowly exhaled. Of all the Aes Sedai to stand against their power, Lews Therin was probably the worst they could have asked for. The man was an insurmountable obstacle, and if destiny really did protect him from harm, then what chance did they have? She would need to place her trust in her instincts and the Great Lord. Until the war was unleashed, she would need to dedicate her skills to interrogation and combat, and hone them to lethal proportions. Duram had openly threatened her once, and if Elan unleashed his strength against her in a move for power, what chance would she have with her blunted abilities? The three walked on in silence, as if the lecture had sprouted concern in all their minds. At the foot of the mountain Elan turned towards them. "Duram, escort her back to the Fortress. The others will return later, Nemene. Feel free to acquaint yourself with them at your leisure. I shall return soon, and with prisoners for interrogation. Make sure the relevant facilities are ready." Before Duram could respond, that violent gateway appeared behind Elan with a serene green park in the background, possibly the Utupau Gardens in Jalanda. Duram;s breath caught and his face paled, but before she could look in his direction, she noticed two black flecks race across Elan's eyes. She was a master of the body, but no disease she knew of caused that type of ocular reaction. She nearly offered to Delve him, but he moved briskly through the gateway before the gateway vanished. This time she did question Duram.

"What were you gaping at, and why are you still so pale? Haven't you ever seen a gateway before? Or does he use a new weave?"

His face flushed and he turned on her angrily. "Don't you ever treat me like a fool, Nemene. Do you hear me? I'll kill you if you make that mistake, no matter how new you are to the Shadow. Your comments shout ignorance, and I only wish the others were here to laugh at your folly." A gateway appeared behind him, rotating into a large hole five paces by three… excessively big, but an obvious allusion to his strength, to provide that extra metallic clang to his threat. Stepping through, they started walking within the echoing passages within the Fortress, towards the elevator which would take them to their rooms. They walked in silence for a while, his jaw set angrily and his cheeks reddened with anger, or possibly embarrassment. As if from nowhere, he started speaking again. "If you must know, Nemene, he is using the Great Lord's own Power to Travel. We call it the True Power, and it is very different to the One Power. Men and women alike can use it, but you cannot detect it in someone who channels it. Now that you are connected to the Great Lord, you can channel it freely for the time being, but I warn you against it. It is a thousand fold more addictive than saidar or saidin, and its effects are corrosive and probably lethal. You saw his eyes. Who knows what will happen in a few months, or years if he survives? I haven't seen him channel saidin once in the months since he recruited me. He is a fool."

Nemene certainlyfelt the fool, but how could she be expected to anticipate the presence of another force besides the One Power? She could feel her connection to the True Power, even though she had not known what it was before. She felt a burning desire to reach out and touch the True Power, if only for a few moments. Duram wouldn't know, or so he claimed, but what if those strange flecks started bouncing around her eyes? No, now was not the time. Perhaps she would attempt to wield the Great Lord's power at some other stage. She had to remember Duram's warning though. It was unlikely he would avoid a new Power unless it really was harmful, but perhaps his reaction to Elan's gateway was a big act, in which case he could pass for a theatre performer from Paraal. As soon as they reached her rooms, he turned sharply to his right and continued down the passage to his own suite, his childish temperament still fighting his efforts to suppress it.

Walking into her room, she performed the usual check of her wards to see if anyone had decided to visit her that day. Alas, no flies for her web. Of course, hoping to snare someone could backfire, especially if the fly was someone like Elan. Chuckling softly, she mused their probable thoughts regarding her. No doubt they thought their strength vastly superior to hers, but she hadn't been the best in her field for nothing. She doubted they could duplicate half of what she could with the Power, or inflict a tenth of suffering she had already researched… well maybe Elan could, but she was certain that Duram was woefully deficient in that area. Duram was a typical man, trying to use brute force and strength to break through his infantile skill. She found that the most beautifully woven nets couldn't be broken by even the most colossal hand, and she was eager to prove it to them and exact her toll in retribution. That would come in time. If she truly was to be immortal, then she could wait for millennia for them to fall, and when that happened, they like all others, would be given to her.

That night, wearing her dark streith gown she sat on the soft meditation pad alongside her large bed. She had been waiting for this moment, and she could feel a bubble of anticipation and trepidation boiling up inside of her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The glow of the Source was so familiar that she thought it was trying to leap into her, but she held it at bay. Instead she reached out with her thoughts along the new conduit provided to her by the Great Lord. She could sense a darkness in that infinite distance, but a Power of huge proportions. Judging by Elan's actions, she decided that the best way to treat this new strength was to channel it with even more aggression than was required when channeling saidin. She was proficient in channeling saidin too, after all her years in leading mixed circles. Reaching for the blackened Source, she ripped it from its heart and pulled it into her. She gasped as it flowed into her, and suddenly she heard screaming in her ears, the world's suffering bursting into her mind. At first she thought it might be her that was screeching, but when she realized her mouth was shut, it dawned upon her that this was how the True Power felt. Where saidar provided solice and calm, the True Power provided hatred and dominion. She drew on it deeply and the screaming increased until she thought she wouldn't even hear if she herself joined that tortured lament. The black dots started to appear and raced faster and faster, and in greater number as she drew on the dark Source. Suddenly her temples started to pain and the sharp prickles on her scalp warned her that she was drawing her maximum, which disappointingly was not more than she could handle with the One Power. She tried to draw out a thread of Fire and tried to weave a simple fireball. It formed and floated in the air, and vanished before she released it properly. This new Power was more foreign than saidin, and would require much practice to master. Shaking her head, she released the True Power. She felt physically ill, and without warning she vomited on the carpet next to her. No practice, not with this horrid entity. She could understand the tactical value of such an undetectable energy, but she would never use it unless in the direst need. Despite the aftershocks of violent nausea and inner discontent, she felt a near maniacal desire to want to draw on it again. She resisted, and pulled in as much saidar as she could to try and negate the lust. Duram was correct, but she was glad she had discovered that for herself. It was unlikely that she would ever use it again, unless she really had no choice.

After cleaning the carpet with the Power, she moved to the drinks table and channeled flows of Air and Water and readied herself a beverage suitable to accompany a tranquil dusk. Floating the crystal chalice to her left hand, she wove one last small weave of Air to activate her communications array. Releasing the True Source, she lazed comfortably on her leather sofa and watched as the evening headlines were displayed across the large glass screen. Ilyena Sunhair had once again graced a major charity event in Paaren Disen. She was a foolish woman, spending her days helping those far beneath her, and those who would never return the favour in any way. What a short-sighted simpleton she must be, to place such value on those events. Nemene quickly touched the icon at the bottom-right of the screen which would take her to the next story. Kamarile Maradim Nindar had been implicated in another sex scandal. Apparently she had been caught leaving a Dillion International Hotel with yet another Prime Counselor, one of a myriad of conquests she had been involved in over the past year. It was unbelievable that a woman who was once considered chaste could make such a radical turnabout. Luckily Nemene could think of a few ways to explain this change, now that so much had been revealed to her. Flicking to the next story, Nemene looked at the curious headline "Semirhage alive!" and started reading indifferently. Jerking up in her chair, she could almost not believe what her eyes were seeing.

The disgraced Restorer, Nemene Damendar Boann is alive! Just weeks after her apparent suicide, the noted philosopher Elan Morin Tedronai submitted an affidavit to the Hall stating that he had spotted her sneaking around in the Utupau Gardens in Jalanda, but while tracking her it appeared she Travelled to yet another destination. Seekers were immediately informed to examine any residues to indicate her possible motives and targets. They have warned the public to remain vigilant and not to make any attempt to approach her if seen, as she is considered extremely dangerous.

It was widely speculated that Semirhage committed suicide approximately seven weeks ago by overdrawing on the True Source. Sixty-five Aes Sedai and seven-hundred-and-thirteen civilians were killed when a large portion of the Heron district was leveled by the culprit explosion. The distinguished Aes Sedai, Corelle Hachaman Sendar managed to miraculously survive the explosion by Travelling at the last moment to safety, but unfortunately the backlash of Semirhage's weave ruptured her gateway, and permanently severed her from the True Source. Despite all the Restorers efforts, she succumbed to severe depression ten days ago and took her own life. (Press here for details regarding Corelle Hachaman Sendar).

The Tamyrlin has personally charged Barid Bel Medar to head the committee to find Semirhage and bring her to justice. Semirhage's history as a noted Restorer…

It took a moment for Nemene to let this article sink in. Rising from her chair she turned off the array, and started pacing aimlessly around her suite. She had gone to great lengths to hide her escape from the authorities, and in one act Elan Morin had revealed her and ruined all her efforts! Staring out the window, it suddenly dawned on her that Elan had already initiated the War against the world, and she started to relax and chuckle softly. It was surely part of his plan to sow dissent and panic into society and allow the seed to grow well before he actually initiated any direct conflict. He was profoundly intelligent, and after she had sworn allegiance to the Shadow, he wasted absolutely no time in weaving her into his intricate plans. What better way to create panic than to reveal that the killer Restorer Nemene Damendar was still loose and weaving her heinous plots? He would probably reveal his other allies with time, and when he finally proclaimed his devotion to Shai'tan, the world would plunge into the great War of the Age. Semirhage … what a peculiar name. The media had literally transferred the slander Sem'rhag into a first-person title. Considering the lack of explanation surrounding the name, she assumed they had been using it for some time. Smiling to herself, she speculated on her affinity for the name. Semirhage. She would embrace the name, but she wondered if the media realized what they were letting the world in for by providing her with such a wonderful incentive? She would see to it that she honoured the name they had given her, and would ensure that it was maximized to legendary proportions. She who breaks the body … she would find ways to break them, ways to make her previous atrocities seems like kindnesses.

Opening her wardrobe, she donned some of her best attire. Her long black silk dress clung tightly to her upper body, while the lower part swung loosely down to the ground. A silver paisley pattern covered the lower part of the rare designer dress, hinting to those around her that limitless financial abilities probably meant limitless abilities in other areas too. She tied her hair back with a continuous silver chain, and added a matching silver ring to her right ring finger. She hesitated as to whether she should add her angreal bracelet to her jewelry. She couldn't be sure who she would meet in the next few hours, and after the surprise of Elan Morin, she was sure her colleagues would be formidable. However, the angreal was gold and did not match her attire, and worst of all it would shout insecurity to those who detected it. Leaving the angreal on the wooden side-table, she fixed it to the table with Air, and then wove an inverted ward of Spirit around the bracelet which would create a saidar backblast against any channeler who touched it, leaving them burned out as punishment for their arrogance.

Striding gracefully from her rooms, she decided to head for the Grand Hall and measure herself up against her so-called allies. After meandering for a few minutes, she opened the wooden door into a very large room which resembled a laboratory. Obviously this was not the Grand Hall, despite the fact that she had followed the directions provided to her by a servant precisely. As she was closing the door, she heard a man muttering to himself, but she couldn't see him. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of movement from behind an array of glass scientific equipment, all filled with solutions of different colours, some boiling, others frothing, others still. Vast superprocessors lined the walls emitting sounds and visual data as their gargantuan formulae were solved. Intrigued, she stepped into the room and quietly closed the door. That movement again … and suddenly a large man appeared moving between the tables and typing furiously on the nano-array strapped to his left wrist. He was muttering to himself, softly but insistently cursing his errors, or perhaps venting some frustration. A beaker filled with a red solution seemed to float towards his left hand, which named him as Aes Sedai. Despite his large build his skin was pasty white and his dark hair was untidy and slacked over this forehead. This man no doubt spent most of his life in similar surroundings and rarely saw sunlight, if ever. He took no notice of her, and despite her subtle entrance, she doubted he would have noticed if the walls fell down around him. As if her thoughts spoke to him, he looked up and his focused expression turned sour.

"Get out woman, this is my private laboratory!"

The corner of her mouth twitched – she almost thought of him as courageous, but it was more likely he merely lacked any social graces. "My name is …"

"I didn't ask your name," he spat angrily, "I asked you to get out. Now leave before you anger me."

This type of fool only responded to visual messages. Touching saidar, she channeled and a small luminous blue ball appeared above her outstretched palm and started bouncing up and down cheerily. Looking up, she saw that he was shocked with surprise, his mouth hanging open silently. As suspected, there were obviously no male channelers in this castle either, and the appearance of a female who could wield the Power would have implications for him in many possible ways.

"Who are you?" he said more carefully, and swallowed hard.

He really was a silly man, whoever he was. "I am Nemendar Damendar Boann, but you may call me Semirhage. I was taking an evening walk, and stumbled upon some commotion in here. Imagine my surprise when I found a lab rat stuck in his cage during the late hours instead of dining in the Great Hall."

His face paled at the mention of her name, which was precisely the legacy she wanted her name to leave in its tracks. Then he frowned, probably trying to decide whether to react to the veiled insult she had swung his way. His mouth made a few attempts to speak, but after a brief cough he managed to regain his stature. "I am Ishar Morrad Chuian. I am close to yet another breakthrough. Hmm… perhaps I could use someone of your skill with a small problem I have. Would you would accompany me, Semirhage?"

He was world-famous biologist – possibly one of the greatest who ever lived. It was said that there was nothing in the area of genetics and biological construction that he hadn't discovered. She had never seen his picture in the tabloids before, probably because he wasn't exactly a poster boy for the Aes Sedai, and because biological breakthroughs were hardly of interest to the general public. She decided to accompany him, and see where this all would lead. As she moved deeper into the Hall she was surprised see parts of various animals and possibly human beings floating in glass chambers, the water aerated with fine bubbles propagating from the base of the chambers. Her eyes couldn't help but widen as she saw one last larger chamber with a disgusting grotesquery floating inside. It appeared to be the head and torso of a young woman, except her chest had been sawn open and the beating heart and breathing lungs were easily visible. The underside of the torso extended into legs and hooves which surely belonged to a cow or some larger animal. Her face had a pained expression and she was clearly screaming from inside the chamber, her dull murmurs not escaping the transparent walls. He had managed to merge a human and animal into one functioning organism, but why, and to what purpose? Glancing around, she noticed similar chambers involving men, women and children – all hybridized with some form of animal, some more successfully than others. As they moved deeper into the room, she noticed a series of cages filled with hideous beasts, which appeared to be the final products of those specimens she had just seen. They mostly resembled giant cattle that stood on their hind legs, but human features were definitely present in all of them, with a touch of an eagle or a goat here and there. In the cage on the far left was a tall creature which looked like it had wings, and on the opposite side sat a creature which would have been identical to a normal woman except for her pale skin, and the fact the bars of her cage had been bent. The bars were densely packed so that she couldn't even fit a finger between them. Is it possible that she was physically strong enough to bend thick metal bars?

"Do you like my children? I call those over there Trollocs. They're going to change the world, you know." He said pointing at the large beasts which were pacing back and forward in their cages, sometimes snorting, sometimes even spouting a coherent word or two. She wondered for the second time to what end he intended to use them. They appeared to be incredibly strong with minimal intellect, which made them ideal soldiers or laborers. She made no reply though, only shifted her gaze to the other cages, which he noticed of course. Smiling, he continued…

"The other is a Draghkar. You don't want this lover's kiss, take my word for it. As for my friend in the far cage, just count yourself lucky you are tied to the Great Lord, for she finds the blood of our brethren to be as sweet as honey, and I doubt even your skill could stop her from sampling your elegant neck, Semirhage." He finished with a cackle fit for a madman. Whatever he was talking about, she took heed to his warnings. Duram had convinced her that sometimes there was no point lying, especially when the truth was dangerous enough. More importantly, she could sense for the first time that he shared the same ties to the Great Lord that she did. The connection was so new to her that she ignored its presence half the time, even when it took him only a few minutes to pay cognizance to it.

"This display has been amusing, Ishar, but what do you require me for?" she said curtly.

He moved sulkily to a table which had a man tied to it, writhing and trying to free the invisible bonds which held his hands and feet down. He was dressed in a dark black cloak and she could see that his skin was white and sickly. On closer inspection, she discovered that he had no eyes, but he turned and looked at her as soon as they approached, as if his vision was as clear as day. A pulse of fear streaked across the exterior of her emotions, and she expected that their gaze was designed precisely for this. Anyone with a weak mind would probably be curled up and whimpering on the floor by now, but she scornfully pushed the emotion away.

"Interesting. Whatever this creation of yours, it impresses me greatly," she said softly. It really was a marvelous thing, a miscreant of pure loathing and terror, fully fit to serve the Shadow.

He scowled as he looked to the ground. "I didn't create the Myrddraal. The Trollocs have been breeding and these creatures appear to constitute one in a fifty or so of their progeny, and they fear them utterly. At first I thought they were congenital aberrations destined to die within the first few weeks of life, but in fact they are vastly superior to their parental counterparts. They are physically powerful and masterful in armed combat, and they possess an intellect similar to ours. Their eyes are curious, but their visual acuity is far greater than ours whether on the brightest day or deepest midnight. I have called you because one anomaly eludes me. They can transport themselves immediately from position to another using a shadow as a catalyst. I have performed autopsies on five of them already, but nothing they possess internally strikes me as odd. Their cloaks do not move even in the harshest surroundings, and I have come to the conclusion that they are out of phase with time and reality in some way. When I question them about their abilities, they claim ignorance. Considering your skills in these areas are well-known, I wish to know whether they are lying to me, because I believe they are."

She quickly Delved the Myrddraal. There was something odd about them, something which he hadn't mentioned. They seemed to be organically tained. If she channeled Water and Spirit through one, perhaps she could produce a tainted flow of the Power. The question would be how she could use such an invention? Semirhage leaned closer to the Myrddraal until her eyes were staring coldly into that eyeless face. Smiling, she asked, "Myrddraal, how do you displace yourself using light and the absence thereof? Tell me. Tell me now."

Its voice was coarse and grave, but its forehead was sweating and anxiety laced its voice. "I do not know, Great Mistress. None of us do."

Still smiling, she turned to Ishar who was frowning at the Myrddraal. "Send him and three of his counterparts to my hospital via a gateway in the morning. I'll have an answer for you within the week. You are strong enough to Travel?"

He burst out laughing in her face, his whole body convulsing with laughter as tears started running down his cheeks. He didn't seem to notice her dispassionate gaze, and it took some time for him to cease. "Yes, I think if I pushed my abilities I could form a gateway, Semirhage. Or maybe I would need some use of Duram's angreal." Once again he started wheezing with laughter, which was becoming monotonous to attend. "It wouldn't help anyway. Most of these creatures cannot survive passage through a One Power gateway, but not to worry, I will get them to your hospital by tomorrow morning."

After a quick nod, she turned on her heel and started towards the main passage again, and she could hear his hysterical laughter bubbling up again. He was a stupid man, finding hilarity in simple questions. A few minutes later she strode into the Grand Hall, but only Duram and another women were present, both on separate sides of the Hall. The Hall was very large with the usual marbled floors, and a massive crystal chandelier reaching down from the roof. At least twenty servants were waiting upon the two guests, and her entrance caused at least five of them to head in her direction. Duram was sitting alone at a table toying with his angreal but at the same time talking to a woman over a portable communications array, while the woman was examining an artwork of Lews Therin and Tel Janin opening the Oryodon World Sports games last year. She had spoken to Duram earlier and she was in no mood for his childish tantrums or his flaunts of masculine mastery. She strode toward the woman examining the artwork, and accepted a drink from a servant on the way. The woman was about as tall as her, dressed in a beautiful long white dress with a silver belt and silver hair decorations.

"Good evening," Nemene said neutrally.

The woman turned around and Semirhage was shocked to see that it was Mierin Eronaile, Lews Therin's former lover. She had met her only once when Mierin was still a student. She was exquisitely beautiful, and her long black hair complimented her milky skin. She remembered something else about her though, and without thought she once again sensed that unbelievable strength in the Power which Mierin possessed. The woman was considerably stronger than her in sheer potential, even if she possibly lacked in skill. Or at least, she tried to convince herself that Mierin's skill would make them equals. It was a rare woman who could improve on her skill with all five Powers, but there were always exceptions. Her vapid gaze examined Semirhage from head to toe, and she sniffed derisively.

"The noted Semirhage graces my presence. How lucky for me," she replied rudely. "Did you come to greet me, Semirhage, or ask for my protection against the local authorities?"

She had expected as much from the arrogant wench. Mierin had been much the same as a student all those years ago. The woman considered herself to be far superior to others even though her lack of accomplishments as an Aes Sedai screamed otherwise. If she had known this chit was here, she would have rather have started a conversation with Duram, or even Ishar. She was not about to let this fool get the better of her, though. For all her vaunted bravery, she doubted the woman had two neurons to rub together. The Creator no doubt blessed her with strength in the Power and physical beauty to balance her empty head. The biggest Rh'aza beast could be snared in a simple trap. She thought Mierin was the type of woman who would be caught by the ward surrounding her angreal. Now, that was a vivid thought.

"Hello Mierin," Semirhage said. "No, I wasn't here to greet you. I wasn't satisfied with the décor in my rooms, and after reading about how Lews Therin treated you, I decided to see if there was anything left for me to tramp on."

Mierin's cheeks colored, and Semirhage half-expected to see the glow of the Power surround her. "I no longer call myself Mierin. My name is Lanfear, and I react badly to those who don't respect that."

Daughter of the Night? What was the woman on about? Silly fool, thinking she was more than she really was. "Very well," Nemene said. "How did you come to ally yourself with the Great Lord?"

Mierin turned and stared at the painting once more, her eyes set on Lews Therin. "My reasons are my own, but know this. He was mine once, and he will be again. The Great Lord has all but promised to aid my efforts in reclaiming Lews Therin's hand. I'll break those who stand between us." Her eyes were fierce and appeared to burn with emotion, and even her mouth had become a snarl which scarred her beauty. "I assume you are here out of desperation?" she added, the corner of her mouth twitching in mockery.

Semirhage coolly ignored the insult. "Then you assume incorrectly, Lanfear. A sentiment I suppose occurs repeatedly for you. Duram recruited me at the Great Lord's personal behest. My skills are unique, you understand. You understand the concept of skills and Talents, don't you Lanfear?"

Mierin's face once again reddened and she made no attempt to veil her anger. "You run where wise men fear to crawl, Semirhage! Just make sure you don't take it too far. In my experience, those who play that game with me always end up last."

This conversation was heading nowhere. They were acting like two stuck-up men competing for a medal in a Sanje tournament. A young servant appeared beside Semirhage, and bowed deeply. Like all servants he was dressed in black, and so attractive that he had obviously been chosen for his pleasing appearance.

"Excuse me, Great Mistress. The Great Master Morin Tedronai passes word that he has delivered a prisoner to your hospital. Prime Counsellor Benson is in transit in the hospital foyer. Do you have any commands?"

Lanfear snorted. "Your master is rattling your chain, Semirhage. Now be a good girl and run off to please him."

Semirhage didn't even look in her direction, and showed absolutely no reaction. This ignoramus actually thought she could vex one of the great minds of current times. "I have just one instruction. Remove the Prime Counsellor's Rod of Dominion from his possession. Who knows? If Lanfear here spots it, the poor man might be forced into courtship."

Lanfear's face twisted with fury, and Semirhage was moments away from embracing saidar to defend herself from the inevitable attack, when the young man beside her chuckled. Mierin's sinister glare turned to him and with shocking speed a complex weave of Air and Spirit struck him. Semirhage watched with fascination as the resonant weave twisted and cracked his whole spinal column many times before dissipating. The man let out a terrible scream and crumpled to the floor, his neck and torso twisted in horrible positions. Semirhage and Lanfear stared at one another for a moment before both turning on their heels and striding away in opposite directions. She decided to return to her rooms to ponder her situation. Could she have been fast enough to slice that weave if Lanfear had sent it her way? It would have been close. Lanfear displayed arrogance in its purest form. She knew she was the strongest possible woman, and therefore made no attempts to veil her emotions. Anyone who mocked her would unleash her temper, and then promptly be destroyed. She thought it might not be a bad idea to hide her ability and hold the Source in the presence of these dangerous peers of hers, and maybe she shouldn't shirk her angreal, and actually use it. It wouldn't be a shameful idea, anyway – Duram didn't constantly carry that angreal around for amusement alone. She needed to think on all these issues. In most circles she had been the strongest channeler by far. She had seldom been in the presence of so many strong channelers, and she doubted Ishar was weak in the Power either. It made no sense for the Great Lord to tie the weak to him, no matter how skilled they were in other areas. Strength in the Power was of prime importance in a place where lethal competition was actively encouraged.

Entering her rooms she was surprised to see a young woman sitting on her leather sofa entertaining herself with the communications array. She was a fool for entering one of the Chosen's rooms, and double a fool for choosing this Chosen's room.

"Whoever you are, this day is about to end very badly for you." She embraced the Source and leisurely prepared two flows of Air to bind the woman, and another of Fire and Spirit to initiate the woman's demise. The woman very calmly stood, turned off the array and slowly strode towards Semirhage. She was young and very plain looking, but she had an intelligent face. Her long brown dress was of decent quality, but Semirhage got the distinct impression that she was rising above her financial means and trying to impress.

"My name is Saine Tarasind, Semirhage. It took me several weeks to track you down to this place, and a great deal of effort to smuggle myself into your rooms. The security here is formidable." The woman walked casually to the drinks table and prepared herself a beverage. Continuing, she added, "I have always admired your efforts, and have long considered your approach to civilians to be the correct one."

Semirhage could sense no potential in her, but perhaps she was hiding her abilities. "What could you, a common civilian, do for someone like me?"

Saine merely smiled and sipped from her glass. Semirhage suddenly felt a weave of Spirit unravel, and she resisted the urge to draw a little deeper on the Source. Suddenly she could sense Saine's potential, and it was the same as her own! The fact that so many strong Aes Sedai were popping up all over the place all the time, was becoming tiresome. A few weeks previously she would have had to search high and wide to meet a woman of equal potential. Now she had leave the island to meet some who was weaker! She released the Source.

"I know how you feel about Aes Sedai, and therefore I did not want to alarm you. As you can see I have the mettle to follow in your footsteps, and my skill is above average. I know that you are part of a dark organization of some kind, but I can already sense the powerful inner workings and planning starting to build up here. So… I wish to prove myself to you so that you may sponsor my allegiance to this new Power."

The girl was intelligent, and had probably not merely stumbled upon her information. "What are your reasons?" Semirhage asked simply.

The girl's face became more serious and sense of deep disappointment, yet rage seemed to radiate from her. "I spent most of my young life striving to become a saidar researcher at the Collam Daan. For over fifty years I submitted works which were posted in most international science journals. Every article I have ever written has been graded grand achievement or higher Despite this, last year they cut me from under the knees by refusing me a position in research. Now I am subjected to teaching simpleton students on a daily basis. So Semirhage, like you, I feel unappreciated by the Aes Sedai… and I want revenge, and not just to break them, but to let them know how deep their mistake was."

It was an impressive little speech which had obviously been prepared, and as she suspected, Saine wanted to impress her. Perhaps there were vague parallels between them, even if she was akin to comparing an eagle to a fly. The Shadow could use someone of Saine's strength and hateful resolve. The fact that she was yet another threat to add was easily avoidable… Saine was devoted and even biddible, unlike Lanfear who seemed fiercely independent and treacherous. Semirhage could use her influence to form a weak alliance with Saine, that they not harm one another until they had undermined the others first. Semirhage herself wouldn't abide by it, but it was good to know that Saine would first look in another direction before setting her sites on her.

"A test of devotion could be arranged, I suppose," she said indifferently, "but what do you think of my bracelet there?" It was a test, obviously.

Saine didn't even look around, but smiled widely. "The angreal, you mean. I sensed it as soon as I entered the room, along with all the other detection wards, which I unfortunately had to avoid. A dasjan angreal I would propose… with a ratio impedence of eighteen to twenty five? The flow of Air was an amusing distraction. I did however, enjoy the inverted trap on the bracelet. Allow me to guess… Spirit in six-eight-one configuration, or Fire and Water in sixteen-twelve?"

For an Aes Sedai to have detected her wards implied above average abilities reading resonances, but to actually have deciphered the Powers in the trap without triggering it required great mastery in the field of residues and resonances. It was a field which Semirhage herself had only middling abilities in. Her assumptions regarding the angreal were accurate too, which proved that her scientific abilities were superior to her boasts. The girl was resourceful, but could she stand up to conflict, or was she smitten by stories of heroism and vengeance?

"Very well, Saine. I am suitably impressed," she said, her expression suggesting the opposite. "I do have need of your services. There is a male Aes Sedai who once opposed me. He must pay, of course. Unfortunately he has decided to barricade himself in the Hall of the Servants in Paaren Disen until I am safely secure in the hands of the Seekers. Sadly for him, that is not to be. I need to seize him and bring him here, so that I can take care of him personally. However, I feel that a lone effort to attack the Hall of the Servants would be challenging, even for me. You are going to help me. I warn you though, if you don't weave for all you're worth, I'll kill you right there." Her expressionless face made the threat seem deadly.

Saine's smile had slipped when she mentioned the Hall of the Servants in Paaren Disen. Granted, it was probably the worst place in the world to attack, but was the woman scared, and was this therefore a mistake? No, she would have to extend her very limited trust to Saine for this task. She could kill Saine if it came to it, but she wouldn't look forward to it.

"I agree, Semirhage. You needn't worry about betrayal – I am trying to prove my worth to the Shadow, you remember? I look forward to facing some Aes Sedai myself. Will we be going now, or should I prepare in some way?"

"We leave now" Semirhage responded. "Hide your potential, and reverse all weaves until absolutely necessary. I'm not sure about your standing with the Hall, but mine demands an Illusion at least until we are safely inside."

The glow had surrounded Saine as soon as Semirhage had started speaking, and she could feel her drawing on the Power until the nimbus surrounding her was almost blinding. After weaving the last flow of Spirit, the glow around Saine disappeared, but she didn't add an Illusion. It was testimony that she deliberately wished to incriminate herself, and therefore seal herself to the Shadow. Semirhage wove her own flows, and then added an Illusion which made her seem shorter, with long brown hair and pale skin. She decided against bringing the angreal. It would react with the ter'angreal at the Great Doors anyway, and if at any time it became displaced from her body, she would be burned out and killed. Besides, she and Saine together were a match for any Aes Sedai, especially a group so unwilling to show hostility.

"I won't be able to get past the ter'angreal guarding the Great Doors undetected. It has been too well designed. Make ready as many flows as you can handle, and as soon as you and I are revealed, do your worst. We'll have to work quickly then. The fools might succumb to shock initially but they won't waste time forming circles to seize us."

Saine merely nodded. "I agree. I will follow your lead. Let's be done with this then." Semirhage wove a gateway to the Travelling Plaza in Paaren Disen. Stepping through, she released the Source and wove Water and Spirit to smother the residues which could determine their point of origin, but watched as Saine glanced at her reproachfully and added her own weave to smother the residues. She obviously considered Semirhage's effort to hide the residues to be insufficient and amateur at best. The bright sunlight was a sharp contrast to the barren atmosphere of the blighted island she had been working on. They walked hastily toward the Hall's main entrance. The whole plaza was packed with civilians and Aes Sedai, none of the women even a quarter as strong as Saine or her. She glanced to her side, and saw Saine, her face determined and focused. Her eyes were almost as cold as her own, and Semirhage saw her in a new light for the first time. She predicted that Saine would rise high among them with time, but that was not suitable pondering for their current situation. She drew on the Source until she could hold not a scrap more saidar safely. At once she tied off the Illusion and the disguising weaves, and readied ten flows – some of Air and Fire, others Fire and Earth, and others of Fire, Water and Air. She continued letting the Power flow into these weaves until they pulsed with energy. Stepping up to the Great Doors, they had to politely fend off some warm greetings for Saine, and others naming her as Saine's assistant. Saine stepped through the ter'angreal.

"Tarasind, Saine. Saidar lecturer, third class. Access levels one through six, eight through fifteen."

Semirhage could see through the glass windows that the inner lobby was filled with Aes Sedai and Da'shain Aiel. Perhaps this was all part of the inquiry into her capture, or perhaps it could be as simple as a retirement party for some old crone. This was the moment of truth … she and Saine would either rise together or fall together. Unfortunately the Great Lord would need his master Restorer for the War, so these Aes Sedai would have to die in her place. The thought filled her with eager anticipation and excitement. She stepped through the ter'angreal, the blood pulsing in her ears.

"Damendar, Nemene honorific Boann. Seeker priority level one. Master alert initiated."

Most people probably wouldn't have noticed its chant, but the instant after it announced her dreaded presence, an alarm resounded through the whole building, a Power-wrought echo of a repetitive mechanized groan followed by a warning. "Alert! Alert! The Hall is in imminent danger. All persons within are to vacate the building immediately. Unlimited Travelling access granted until further notice."

Semirhage dived through the ter'angreal and unraveled the Illusion and the disguising weaves. Fear of her appearance would hopefully do some good in itself. She felt Saine release her weaves too. Leaping to her feat she shouted, "Saine, now!" The girl was remarkably quick and calm. People were slowly overcoming their shock, and a murmur appeared followed by shouts, and finally hysteria. Saine turned towards the entrance of the Hall and the huge glass entrance windows lining the entire entrance shattered into thousands of fragments, cutting down those who were nearby. Semirhage didn't have time to watch Saine's efforts. Facing the lobby full of Aes Sedai and civilians she let loose her worst destruction, all her strength released in an instant. Lifting her hands she showered the lobby with fireballs, two sprouting from each palm at once and splitting hundreds of times as they traveled. Within two seconds there were literally hundreds of fireballs shooting across the lobby, each fireball screeching as it flew through the place. Most of the civilians died instantly, their bodies incinerated to ash on contact with the fireballs, or else torn to pieces or burned to char. Aes Sedai were falling too, the glow surrounded some too, but only in time for them to be burst apart by fire. Fire littered the huge area, most Aes Sedai trying to hold the inferno at bay rather than retaliating. Small circles were starting to form amidst the mayhem. She decided to switch to the flows of Fire and Earth she had prepared, and arrows of Fire sprouted from her fingers – ten from each finger flying wildly across the Hall. Each arrow killed at least two people, if not more. There were so many hundreds of arrows flying through the air that she could barely see anything, except the glow of fallen Aes Sedai disappearing. She aimed for the elevators and heard the screams of the dying inside as both shafts were reduced to ruin. She felt a shield rebound off her, and turned to see two terrified middle-aged women in a circle trying to shield her. Weaving Air and Water, she filled their lungs with water and walked away without watching them flail and thrash in their last few lucid seconds. Everyone in the lobby was dead. It was filled with at least two hundred bodies, or fragments thereof, and it had been thoroughly destroyed by her efforts, the white cueran stones scorched by her flames and the pillars cracked or broken by her arrows. The heat inside the building was almost overwhelming. She became aware of Saine, saidar flowing through her in huge amounts. Turning, she surveyed a scene of similar destruction. Rings of fire were propagating from her in ever increasing circles, scorching any and all who got in their way before they dissipated not less than a thousand feet away. This explained why she cleared the windows of the Hall first. Enormous pillars of earth lifted into the air sending terrified people a hundred feet into the Air while showering those on the ground with uprooted concrete and mortar. Fifty bolts of lightning were shooting from the now-darkened sky at a tremendous rate. There was so much lightning that she struggled to see the ground between the bright flashes. Each bolt exploded among a group of fleeing people, or destroyed a Jo-car, or rent a huge hole in the side of the building. Either way, only a madman could hope to enter that maelstrom and live. Saine's face was cold and determined. Two flows of Spirit and Fire were spinning around Saine with such speed they almost blurred, every now and again slicing a weave which attempted to snare or harm her. When she spotted the glow of the Power or a male in Aes Sedai attire, her cruel stare would fix on the channeler and almost instantaneously, all fifty bolts would focus on to that single spot, before resuming their random annihilation of the plaza. There appeared to be no living people in sight, and Semirhage could hear the screams of the entire city, and if mass hysteria had infected the whole population of this enormous city.

"Let's go. We have to take care of those in the building, not those outside of it," she said severely. Saine sniffed, and tied off her lightning flows tightly into a complex knot before reversing them. They would hold for a hundred years unless someone unraveled them, which would take a Talented Aes Sedai half a day at least, or more if Saine's Talent was as strong as Semirhage suspected. Running to the stairs they sprinted up them as fast they could, but stopped at every level to weave explosive wards into the floors for would-be trackers. Their target would be on the thirty-second floor. It was unlikely he would have the courage to Travel from the Hall, surely terrified that she would be waiting to knife him in the back as soon as he left it. They reached the thirty-second floor, and quickly drained the weariness from one another, although Saine's weave was clumsy and unrefined. "Go ahead. I will cover your back," Saine murmured. Semirhage started trotting down the wide passage, which appeared deserted. Suddenly she detected saidar being channeled ahead of her somewhere. It was pointless to wait for an imminent attack and she loosed her arrows of Fire once more, and soon she was running while hundreds of the cords flew from her fingers and crashed through marble, tables and other equipment tearing them to pieces. She heard screams and smiled unpleasantly, but her weaving only intensified. She heard Saine shouting from behind her, but thunderous explosions ahead muted her to an irritating buzz. Dropping her flows she turned a questioning eye to Saine. "I said you're going to bring the whole building down. Most of this south wall is gone if you hadn't noticed. And they're going to know where we are now," Saine was shouting furiously.

"This was never a covert mission, as you well know," she replied coolly. Saine hadn't woven anything since they had appeared on this floor. Perhaps the place really was totally deserted. "Stay here. I'll be back soon," she said. Walking hastily towards the large office door, she turned around once more to see Saine readying several nasty weaves as a precaution. There was certainly no lack of intelligence in that woman. As she approached the large wooden and gold embossed doors, she wove Air and the doors exploded into thousands of splinters. Two eyes examined her fearfully from behind the desk of a very large and seemingly influential office. The graying man stood, and with a yell flung out his hand releasing a fireball in her direction. She deflected it with a barrier of Fire and Air. Weaving Spirit she shielded him with little difficulty, and then floated his thrashing body over to her. He looked at her for a second, the terror in his eyes bordering on hysteria.

"Nemene, please. You have to understand I had no…"

Without thought she wove Air and grabbed his tongue and pulled on it, and then snapped his jaw shut amputating his extended tongue. His guttural screams made her smile, and she watched him convulse in his bonds with agony. She would Heal him later of course. He would die over many years, slowly until his last agonizing breath.

"Your sniveling voice always irritated me, Roedran. You should not have crossed me. In time, you will envy the pain you just underwent, for it will seem like a maiden's kiss compared to what I'm going to do to you. You should feel honoured, my old friend. I've killed so many people today just to become reacquainted with you. Let us be gone. We don't want to overstay our welcome."

His defeated eyes were streaming with tears, and blood was pouring from his open mouth. She strode from his office, maintaining the shield and floating him behind her on flows of Air. She could feel him beating at the shield like a wild animal, but he was far too weak to challenge its integrity. She saw Saine stepping backwards, almost dancing. Saine glanced quickly in her direction. "Some help, if you please Semirhage."

Semirhage looked quickly to her right and saw a circle of seven advancing on them, six women and a man, all very young and probably newly raised. There was a group of heroes in every hostile situation, but these infants would unfortunately die long before their allotted time. The leader was well ahead of the others, and she was smiling victoriously at having pushed a woman like Saine back. Her weaves were stronger than Saine or hers, and Saine managed to slice them just in time before they cut her off from the Source. Semirhage seized a tactical advantage, and weaving Air and Earth the passage wall exploded violently, instantly propelling six members of the circle out of the gaping hole which used to be the south wall of the thirty-second floor. Screaming, they plummeted to their deaths. Not even Aes Sedai could fly. The leader, abandoned on her foolish quest, didn't even have time to cry out before Saine cut off her head with a razor-sharp weave of Air.

"You have him, I see - whoever he is," Saine said, sounding breathless. "Let's go before some experienced Aes Sedai decide to come looking for a fight."

Semirhage nodded, and before long they were running down the passage and back down the stairwells. They had very little choice in the matter – neither she nor Semirhage knew these floors well enough to Travel. Due to her status, Semirhage rarely frequented anywhere below the eightieth floor, and Saine spent most of her time on the second floor if she visited the Hall. Descending to the lobby was not as easy as they had expected. They had expected an army to chase them upstairs, and when none came, they had to unravel all the wards which they had placed in the floors of the staircase. This was compounded by the fact that Semirhage had to float a shielded, bound male Aes Sedai behind her all the way. Reaching the lobby, Semirhage's new found sense of achievement was utterly erased when they discovered a delegation standing between them and the exit. There were seven middle aged men standing in a pinnacled formation, three males on each side flanking a man in the middle. He was very tall and his formidable presence could be felt even from across the lobby. His grim face promised them an eternity of remorse for their actions. Barid Bel Medar … Semirhage was paralyzed, not from fear but from surprise. Of all the Aes Sedai in Paaren Disen, how deep was their misfortune to have come across this man? Saine's expression wasn't vague at all. Her face was as pale as possible, terror across her face as her lips trembled, her eyes wide and fixed on his face.

"Oh my god," Saine groaned, and sprinted off to the side rooms as fast as her legs could carry her, as if fleeing from a nightmare. Semirhage stared after her, filled with exasperation at being deserted in the face of overwhelming superiority. Standing alone, the balance suddenly shifted from improbable to impossible. Staring defiantly for a moment longer, she had no choice but to run after Saine, dragging a male channeler behind her. Running through the maze of side rooms, she thought she had lost Saine, when suddenly she felt saidar being channeled a few rooms to the north. Running as fast as she could, she burst through the closed doors to find Saine frantically channeling Spirit. A silvery vertical slash appeared, opening to the Fortress in the Blight.

"No!" Semirhage shouted, and ran as fast as she could towards the gateway. Channeling Spirit and Fire, she sliced Saine's flows and watched her grunt as the severed flows recoiled. "You fool," Semirhage sneered, "… you will allow them to trace us to the Blight!" Saine wasn't listening though. Semirhage was standing in front of her, but her gaze was deviated to the right where her gateway used to be, her mouth open in shock. Semirhage let her anger drain away, and turned to see what Saine was staring at. Her gateway was still open, but it had collapsed to a small square one pace wide and one pace high. She could see it trying to collapse, but some invisible bar was holding it open against its will. It could only be a weave of saidin, but how? On instinct she swung around, and was confronted by the doom of Barid Bel Medar facing them from the wide open doors to the room, the only exit blocked by an entity stronger than heartstone. Saine had turned moments after her, and shrieked when she saw him, backing away into the wall and releasing the Source in shock. He took one step forward, and a dark half-smile appeared on his face.

"It's no use running. I now know where your strategic base of operations lies. Once I have finished with you, I will lead my southern legion through and crush what little resistance you think you have created. But that will follow after." His smile disappeared and his grave look made Saine groan, her breathing heavy and laboured. "I suppose you two thought we would take you away and have you bound against violence. Oh no, no, no. I'm going to personally break you. Then I'm going to sever you. And then, I'm going to kill you both." Semirhage heard mumbling to her right, and saw Roedran obviously relieved that he had been rescued, but Barid paid him no attention at all.

They were in deep trouble. There was probably only one man in the world who exceeded Barid Bel Medar in strength and skill. He was legendary in almost every sphere of life. When he initiated something, he became a master of it. Now that civilization was collapsing, he proved to be one of the great generals of the modern Age. His ability to block their gateway was unheard of and possibly a Talent in itself, but she thought she could perhaps figure out a female equivalent. His passed judgment didn't cause her any fear, but oddly enough made her respect him – if it was possible for her to respect any Aes Sedai. If he thought he could defeat Semirhage, he was gravely mistaken.

She tied off the flows of Air binding Roedran. "Assume his shield," she said to Saine, who for a wonder barely hesitated before a flow of Spirit reached out to Roedran. Perhaps she thought that performing a menial task in the corner of the room would preclude her from combat. She was probably right. She needed no help to stand against this man. Slowly walking towards Barid, she filled herself with saidar, every shred she could handle. His half-smile returned, and he actually looked pleased to encounter someone who stood up to him, or perhaps he was amused that a woman would stand against him.

Suddenly she stopped, and three huge fireballs streaked from her outstretched hand. He would only see one of course, as two were inverted. It was a pity for him that that a simple inverted flow of Fire would burn his head off. The three fireballs moved with terrible speed. The fireball on the right had traveled less than half the distance to him when it suddenly unraveled. She had less than a second to register her shock when the centre diversion fireball rebounded back at her at twice the speed. Weaving Fire, Earth and Air, she blocked the fireball, but staggered under its weight. He had added something to greatly magnify its force. Glancing up she watched aghast as the last desperate fireball stopped a pace short of him. He pulled it into his hand and suddenly it changed into a solid metallic mass floating up his palm. Instantly it melted, and formed a swirling silver pool above his hand which gave off threads of metal as fine as embroidery thread. The threads started to coalesce, most remaining silvery and bright, others assuming a golden colour. The fibers wove themselves as if two invisible knitting needles or deft fingers were threading them. As quick as it had begun, it was over …. a gilded silver breastplate of great beauty floating two paces away from him and polished to perfection. He looked at it with sly admiration, and then dropped it onto the floor with a resonant clang. He was mocking her! His display here could not be duplicated by any channeler she knew, and his ability with Earth and Fire seemed almost unsurpassable. Snarling, she stretched out both her hands and hurled lightning at him, the roar of the energy almost deafening in the enclosed space. At the same time she filled his half of the passage with fire which scorched the white walls instantly. Not wishing to stop there, she flung hundreds of needles of Air in his direction with the eager anticipation that she would neatly land one in his eye. After nearly a minute of utter destruction, she released her flows and stared at the destroyed passageway ahead. She could see very little. The passage had been torn to pieces with lightning and black smoke rose from where Barid had been standing. Suddenly the fire disappeared entirely and the smoke vanished into clear air. Semirhage looked on in cool astonishment, and saw him standing, completely unscathed and almost at leisure. In desperation, she sent out her lethal weave of Fire and Spirit, as strong as she could weave one flow. She could not toy with this man. He would have to die as quickly as possible. Before the flow touched him, he sliced it not once, but twice! She grunted painfully as the double fragment recoiled into her chest.

Without delay, he moved forward, his face composed and not at all vexed by the hell she had rained down upon him. She almost panicked when she felt a huge barrier descend on her connection to saidar, and she sliced it for all she was worth. Stepping back, she sliced the next one which came from a different direction, but stronger. If the next one was stronger… she had little time to ponder the moment when exactly that event happened. The power of the shield was too much for her, and she winced as she lost the Power. Once again she had no time to react, as she was smashed by an invisible hand into the south wall. Staggering to her feet, she felt the shield disappear, and as the Power entered her once more, he shielded her again, just to taunt her. Something picked her up by the foot and lifted her into the air. A furious fire formed below her, and she thought he intended to burn her alive. As she dropped, she knew she was going to die writhing in flames, but just inches from those hot embers, the fire vanished and another hand smashed her into the opposite wall with terrible force. As she hit the wall she felt her left arm break, and was convinced she'd fractured her cheek too. She thought she heard Saine groan again. He really was drawing this out to his full advantage. His eyes were cold, so very cold. He was possibly as merciless as she was which meant that she was going to die over many hours in this passage. Holding her arm, she staggered and fell along the wall, no doubt amusing him as an ant would amuse someone who'd plucked off its legs. Reaching Saine, she feigned collapsing on Saine's shoulder, and seized the opportunity to whisper in her ear.

"Open yourself to linking," she said, the pain of her arm and abused body pulsing in her body. Saine's gaping mouth closed, but Semirhage could feel her reaching out. Semirhage completed the circle and felt saidar rush into her through Saine. She could feel Saine's slight deficiency in Water, but at the same time the woman appeared to be stronger than her in Spirit, which was quite unusual given that she was strong in all Powers. She still had to maintain the shield on Roedran, and she couldn't knock him out and tie it off. If he awoke and unraveled it, they would be in a worse position, if that was even possible. Even someone of her strength could be stabbed in the back by a lesser channeler. Drawing the full potential of the link, she swung round, fury and contempt lacing her dark features. His face and stance changed, as if she had gained some advantage which he hadn't discovered yet. She could see in his eyes that his toying was over, and that serious events would now begin. She didn't even hesitate. Weaving fifteen flows of razor-sharp Spirit, she struck out at him, and he staggered back a step as they collided with his defensive wards. The flows were precise enough to shield him individually, thanks to the link. If she could get one through, then she could reinforce it to hold him, and then kill him immediately. It was a vain hope. Instead of slicing her flows, he opposed them with fifteen invisible flows of his own. There they stood like two bulls with locked horns, making neither progress nor retreat. She was drawing as much saidar as the circle allowed, and yet she couldn't force him back. She still couldn't believe he was so strong with the Power. He was snarling, and so was she. Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead, and she blinked as a drop of perspiration rolled into her eye. It was a stand-off.

"Your skills and strength are being wasted, Barid. You could be greater than anyone imagined. The Shadow could use an asset like you," she suddenly blurted.

His derisive snort was dripping with scorn. "I am the greatest who ever lived, Semirhage. Why should I join a gang of rejected Aes Sedai, hoodlums and thieves, when I am already greater than any other in the world."

Her features remained smooth, which was no small feat with his flows bearing down so heavily. "You will always be second to him, Barid. He graces the memories of the lowest and the greatest. Do you really think they will ever appoint you to lead the armies of the Light against us? You are second best, but you need not be."

His eyes filled with fury as she ended, and she felt a surge in his flows, as if he was reaching out to kill her with his hatred, or perhaps projecting an established hatred onto her. She weakened the shield on Roedran, and could feel it start to bend under Roedran's efforts. It was ludicrous. She was holding over half again as much of her own potential, and she couldn't overwhelm him. She searched his possession for an angreal to explain it all, but knew in her heart that he was fighting unaided. "Saine and I have already established positions of prominence in the Shadow. In an alliance, we could rise above the others, all of them among the greatest who have walked this world. You would be unmatchable, and you could finally prove the Dragon's supporters wrong. How do you expect to do this, when you are named his subordinate?"

The anger dulled from his face, and suddenly his flows vanished. He seemed complacent, but she would bet almost anything that he was as ready as when they had first met. She relaxed her flows but started spinning defensive wards in case he planned a late surgical strike. "Very well," he said abruptly. "I will give you passage from this place. You can even take him with you. He always irritated me, anyway." Roedran's mouth writhed in horror as this revelation dawned, but Barid didn't look at him. "In exchange, you will keep my options open in the Shadow. A time may come when I may decide to honour your offer. I will let you know where some of our troops are fighting, and in exchange you will sacrifice some of your forces to improve my image. Remember, Semirhage. I know where to find you, and if you betray me while you claim to be an ally of mine, then I will make you beg for death. And next time, I won't play around." Without a reply, he turned on his heels and walked out of the ruined passage, and the weave holding the gateway vanished. He had actually been holding that flow all along. Amazing.

After he left, they stood there in sullen silence for a moment, only Roedran's groans and muffled pleas ringing through the room. Semirhage dissolved the link and passed the shield to Saine, and without hesitation pulled on the True Power, gathering the minimum required amount to form a gateway. This had been her plan all along, until Saine had ruined it. She tried to bore a hole like a man did when wielding saidin, but the malevolent energy bounded from her hands and tore at the Pattern, ripping a hole to her hospital in the Blight. Saine gasped, but Semirhage did not have the will to countenance her curiosity. Stepping through, she released the True Power as soon as she could, the intense screaming and occasional black flecks ceasing instantly. Walking into the foyer of the hospital, she encountered her chief attendant, Ader, who bowed deeply. She instructed him to take Roedran to a chamber, have him stripped and placed inside. As soon as her commands were uttered, Jom placed a silvery collar around Roedran's neck which would prevent him from touching the Source. If he touched it, he would convulse and vomit into unconsciousness. She had created those ter'angreal in one of her more idle moments a few weeks previously. Semirhage opened a gateway to her rooms in the main Fortress, and Saine followed in her tracks. As soon as the gateway closed, she slapped Saine across the cheek as hard as she could, so that the other woman staggered a pace back. Touching her reddened check, the woman looked at her in shock, not willing to believe that she had been assaulted by her supposed ally.

"Your hysteria nearly cost us our lives, you stupid woman! When I finally managed to track down your fleeing carcass, you contributed nothing to help me against one of the most dangerous men who has ever lived. What use are you to the Shadow when you cannot even stand up to the top Aes Sedai? Do you really think Lews Therin will send apprentice learners after us when we reveal ourselves? Even you should be able to guess that one day he himself will step upon these shores! What will you do then… cry and whimper as you did today? Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Semirhage rarely lost her temper, but this was as close as she had been for a very long time, and her throbbing arm fueled it.

The other woman looked blankly at Semirhage, and for an instant she thought the woman would apologize and possibly start to cry again. Instead, Nemene suddenly found herself shaking her head, stars littering her vision. The girl had slapped her back, with all the force of her arm steering her attack! Standing up, Semirhage wiped the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She smiled at Saine, who hesitated then smiled back. She would do very well in the Shadow. Almost cordially, Semirhage asked, "Do you have any Talent with Healing? Barid took several liberties with my anatomy."

Saine nodded once, and stepped forward. "Average at best, and only if I exert myself." The glow did envelop her however, and Semirhage felt the unpracticed weave of all five Powers settling on her, her broken bones weaving themselves together, and her pains melting away. Saine stood panting when she was done, a thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Perhaps she really had overexerted herself, or perhaps channeling such vast amounts of the Power had finally taken its toll. She herself felt fatigued, and escorting Saine to the door, she retired to her bedroom and slept for what seemed a very long time. She had done it. She had confronted the Hall of the Servants, destroyed her enemies, captured the one who dared to cross her, survived a direct assault by arguably one of the most powerful Aes Sedai, and initiated an alliance which would aid her ascent to the top tiers of the Shadow. If there had ever been a woman of greater prowess, she would very much like to meet her.

… four years later…

Semirhage was walking down the long main passage of her hospital, the occasional agonizing scream echoing through the hallways. The beautiful white building now contained over eighty patients, and she had honed her skills to unparalleled perfection thanks to their assistance. What impressed her most was not her work, but that she never lost the passion for her art. Every day brought new promise to her, and she could barely wait to step through the main doors of the colossal building when each new day came. She followed much the same routine on a daily basis. She would inspect every patient personally, Heal any damage from the previous day, and then reweave her flows. Answers were not even a priority of hers, but they were a fruitful byproduct of her efforts. Patients thought it would cease their pain, but she couldn't understand where that rumour had originated from. The Darkfriends she passed in the passage bowed as deeply as they could … some carrying new patients, others collar ter'angreal, and others random items. Everyone was dressed in white clothes and the entire building seemed to glow from the inside. She was the exception of course, the contrast to balance the imperfection … her black dress and gold jewelry a profound message for all those resided in her domain.

"Semirhage," she heard from behind her. She glided to a halt, and slowly turned to address the imperious female voice which had hailed her. The plain looking woman walked purposely up to her, her green silk dress swishing in her stride. She had also changed in the four years since they had first met. She was harder, stronger and far more dangerous – possibly as dangerous as Semirhage was when she first joined the Shadow. Unfortunately, she too had become far more dangerous in the years since.

"Mesaana," Semirhage said simply and nodded. Mesaana stopped short and they regarded one another. They were as close to friends as two Chosen could be in the Shadow, but she would kill her eventually, just like she would kill any Chosen who denied her the position of Nae'blis. She had been one of the first to join the Shadow, but there were over one hundred of them already. Those were the serious contenders of course. If weak Aes Sedai managed to ally themselves to the Shadow, they would be severed and dead, in her hospital, or in Aginor's lab before the day was over. She had enforced that scenario at least fifty times already. Mesaana could probably boast the same, but it was not easy maintaining your position in the Shadow. She had been the target for open assassination five times already. Twice she had detected a trap moments before her room in the Fortress exploded into ruins. Twice some treacherous slime had sliced her gateway while she was returning to the Blight, almost cutting her in half. Only three weeks previously, some woman had torn apart the protective wards in her dreams and attempted to destroy her in Tel'aran'rhiod, which not even Lanfear could manage, and she had tried several times. It was only careful thinking and a clever diversion on her part that allowed her to escape the World of Dreams alive. The woman had been disguised but as soon as Semirhage appeared to have any advantage, the woman seemed to flee in terror – which was an extraordinary turnabout for a once superior opponent. She had caught and killed four of her assailants, but she feared she would never track the one who made the most recent attempt on her life.

Mesaana produced a grim smile. "About an hour ago, Elan used the International Conference on Poverty as a platform to announce his allegiance to the Great Lord. You should have seen his speech. It was impressive, although I think you would have relished the pandemonium afterwards. It was memorable." She finished with a rich laugh.

"Excellent," Semirhage said. "How did he react?"

"As expected," she said, not at all confused by the vague question. "Lews Therin walked out, and within minutes he had declared that the Aes Sedai were now officially at war with the Shadow. Wait until he hears what the Trollocs are doing to Shayota."

So, war was imminent. She was glad that it had finally come to it. The years of secrecy and disguise were taxing for someone as prominent as her. Every few months she would spread her wings and design an atrocity in a major city which could easily be attributed to her.

"Better yet," Mesaana continued, her smile open and amused. "Within an hour of Lews Therin's announcement, the regional generals had unanimously named him as Captain General of the Light. Can you imagine what Barid is doing right now?"

Semirhage couldn't help but join Mesaana and her cutting laughter. "I wish I was there to see his humiliation. He probably thinks I can Foretell."

Mesaana threw back her head and laughed boorishly. "It's only a matter of time before he joins us. No doubt, he will try to prove himself more worthy than Lews Therin. Can you imagine how deadly he's going to be when he finally turns?"

Semirhage smiled enthusiastically. "Indeed. He'll be almost invulnerable. We can use our influence with him to point him in the direction of some of our stronger allies. Men like him respond to the deepest sycophancy, or any comments which inflate their already bloated egos. Perhaps we should point him in Lanfear's direction first."

Mesaana's face instantly became somber and reproachful. "I grow bored of your opinion on Lanfear, Semirhage. You're going to get us both killed if you don't think rationally. Sarkan and Remis are greater threats at the moment, as you well know!"

It was true and rational, but she wasn't a ter'angreal. She could think for herself, and sometimes her instincts were as powerful as her intelligence, and usually as trustable. Lanfear could wait, even though it seemed like a penance from the Great Lord to cope with her existence. "Yes, perhaps you are correct. You and I can take Remis. He'll be in Comelle tomorrow trying to subvert one of Tel Janin's colonels. I worked out a way to easily expose him, and leave Tel Janin to do the rest. Make the plans."

Mesaana sniffed. "I don't take orders from you, Semirhage, but I incidentally accede that your plan has merit. We leave at dawn then. Bring your angreal, this time. I tire of your pride leading us to catastrophy. If the angreal had been in our possession in Tzora, perhaps we could have killed Illidan Raqwan Mendar too, and decapitated the leadership of the Eastern Armies. Instead, he escaped and I was nearly burned to ash." She didn't wait for a reply, and turned on her heel and walked back in the direction from where she came. Burned to ash! Foolish woman, becoming hysterical over a few scorched limbs. Mesaana knew Semirhage would Heal her wounds, but she'd wailed like a small child at her ruined body. It proved that even Aes Sedai didn't have full faith in the Power, or even Semirhage and her abilities. Eventually they would believe, but like all heathens they would need to be shown first.

The news Mesaana had given her had instantly named her as a General of the Shadow. It was a promising time for her, and Mesaana. The stakes were greater, the falls more dire. To have Lews Therin aiming for your throat seemed like the ultimate challenge, but in reality it was dangerous, a death sentence to anyone it included. She would have to step carefully, and double the venom of her strikes. She needed anger, and she knew where to find it.

Gliding down the passage, the glass doors of room eight opened when they detected her presence. There was a graying man hanging there naked, his face gaunt and body physically drained despite optimal forced nutrition and repeated Healing on her part. His breathing was drawn and laced with wheezes. She Delved him quickly and found that there were no physical abnormalities, which means that he had succumbed to mental factors once again. He was her greatest triumph, and she very much hoped her eternal one too. She started to weave Fire and Spirit, and it formed a net of surpassing complexity, honed to perfection over the years. Gooseflesh appeared on his skin, and like all the days which had preceded this one, the man started screaming before he was awake, or before her weave even touched him. He had long since stopped speaking, and had regressed to primitive whimpers and screams. His weakened eyes fluttered, and as soon as he saw her his pupils dilated and his howls reached hysterical levels. She smiled widely, and reached out with her weave. The glass doors closed…

The End.