to be tested

(continuance of Ralkien's story)
(This isn't too well thought out. It was written on the fly, so I may go back and edit it)

Through the grogginess of just having woken, I had the feeling something wasn't right. It was warm, no, hot. Unnaturally hot. It was spring, and in spring you should be waking up to frost crisped grass and misty breath.
The black shirt on my back spoke of no such cool though.
My first instinct was to reach out to the Power, draw Saidin into me to highten my senses. But I didn't. Who knew what could be going on in the Black Tower? Better to be safe than, well, dead.

So I was laying on my pallet, eyes closed, listening. I heard no unordinary sounds. Just the rustle of a breeze against the outside wall, the snoring of the other Dedicated and the faint crackle of fire. Who would have a fire lit at this hour though? It was none of my concern. I slowly opened my eyes to my surroundings. I saw the familiar wooden cabin I had been living in for 2 years. Thick timber walls painted black, a dirt floor littered with humped shaped; those would be the other Dedicated, sleeping on thin straw mats. There was a glow illuminating the small room though. The glow of a fire that must have been right above me. The source of the heat, the thing that caused me to wake up.

Realising there no immediate danger, I shifted to look up. Sure enough, there was a small fire burning near the ceiling. I had no idea how it got there, but there it was. I drew on Saidin and wove Earth to snuff the fire. What happened next was very much unexpected. As soon as the weave hit the heat of the flame, it erupted. The weave snapped back at me and the fire started to grow. Very quickly. The paint on the wood began to peel as tongues of flame snaked down the wall and across the ceiling, popping and throwing sparks when it hit the waterproofing pitch. So I wove Water and Air to suffocate and extinguish the growing flame. Again the weaves snapped back and the fire grew faster.

My mind started to panic, so I summoned the Void, reducing my mind to a cold processor, untouched by feeling or circumstances. I gave a shout and rolled to my feet, shaking the other Dedicated awake. None of them would wake. It was as if they were dead. The fire had covered half of the sloping ceilieng and the enitre wall by my pallet, it was bright as day. I had to leave my friends, to save my own life. That's what they had taught me in 3 years here. Rule number one: protect the Dragon Reborn at all costs. To do this, you must be alive, so protect yourself at all costs as well.

I ran out of the open door, barefoot and clad in black trousers and a black shirt. The same as I wore every day and every night. The grass was slippery with dew, but I ran, shouting that there was a fire. It was the dead of night and the sky was very black. It took a while for my eyes to adjust but with Saidin I could soon see every detail as I ran past. My shouts clashed against all the black buildings, but no one came. I kept running, and shouting, towards the M'Hael's house. Surely he would be able to do something.

I was wide awake by now, and I wondered how the fire got there, and why I couldn't put it out. There were no easy answers there. I could have been really tired and messed the weaves up, but that was unlikely. Over the past 3 years, there wasn't a single day, not a single hour even when I hadn't used the Power. The weaves were a part of me and putting out a simple fire was child's play. Unless it was sustained by someone else holding the Power. I had been taught how to invert weaves so they couldn't be detected, so it may have been an inverted weave. But who would do that? Maybe a Soldier who had just been shown inversion, and wanted to pull a prank, but there's no way they could sustain a woven fire in those conditions. There were no easy answers.

The grass thinned to a dirt walkway, and I saw the M'Hael's quarters just up ahead. Then I felt a surge of the Power, a very strong weave from somewhere to my right, Fire, Earth and Spirit. This one wasn't inverted and I saw the ground ahead of me start to tear apart. Heated dirt and rocks began to give off their own light as they were churned up by the weave. Then from my left, another weave exploded into the air, this one Earth and Air. It was the same weave I used to give flight and accuracy to my arrows. The same weave I had never taught anybody. Nonetheless, someone was using this weave to propell rocks towards me very fast.
I couldn't run forward anymore, so I turned around, ignoring the pain as my heel was gouged on the dirt.
I wove strands of Fire to vapourise the rocks, and turned towards the weaver they came from. Suddenly the air thickened and I couldn't run. Pain covered my whole body as my skin heated up. I saw boils start to form along my arms and grow larger and larger. Behind the veil of the Void, pain was meaningless, but I could feel the pressure of it trying to break through. Some of the boils began to pop, spewing boiling liquid onto my clothes. It burned through quickly, revealing a network of boils on my chest as well. Then the liquid ignited, spreading fire across my body. The pain became very intense across the Void, threatening to shatter it.

The ground behind me was still breaking up, the gap widening and getting closer to me. Shards of rock were being shot into my back, and the dirt beneath my feet heated up. The boils, blackened by the fire, stopped growing and began to crumble, oozing molten fluid down my appendages.
I tried to keep my sanity, but the pain finally shattered through the Void and ravaged my mind. I screamed and instinct took over. I lashed out with weaves of Earth and Air, trying to sluice the fluid off my body and trying to kill the weavers to my left and right.

The weight of the air lifted and I slumped to the ground. Hot rocks pierced my skin as I crawled away from the advancing gap. I wove Air to draw the heat away from my skin and I was able to stand up again and summon the Void.
I was tired now, exhausted, but I pressed through it. I released Saidin so the channelers wouldn't know exaclty where I was, and I ran behind one of the buildings beside the path. I felt a tingling on my skin, just then. Saidar. Female channelers. At this point, I realised I didn't have much of a chance of surviving, so I stayed in the cover of the building and slowly retreated, listening for anything.

Nothing changed as I got further and further away.
The sun was finally starting to creep over the horizon and light up the sky. I still held the Void to block the pain of my broken skin as I walked. I followed the path towards the stables by the main gate, hoping to find a horse or something, and get out.

I stepped into the stable doors... and I had stepped into broad daylight. I looked at my arms and the boils were gone! The pain receded immediately and I took in my new surroundings. The house of the M'Hael greeted my eyes, in front of was the M'Hael himself and a couple other Asha'men, noteably Davian Telkeres and Ky. They were looking at me, as were many others standing off to the side.

I walked towards the M'Hael and when I reached him, he opened his right hand, revealing a colourfully inset pin, in the shape of a dragon. He reached up and pinned it on my collar, opposite the silver sword of the Dedicated. "Congratulations, Ralkien Malfouri." he said. Simply and formally.

"Thank you, M'Hael." I replied, "I choose the Dai Madhi'in." The Battle Seekers. I made the choice a long time ago, that my Squad would be the ones on the frontlines of Tarmon Gaidon. The Last Stand of mortals against Shai'tan. Led by the Dragon Reborn himself. And now, I was an Asha'man. Highest ranking male channeler in the land, next to the M'Hael and the Dragon himself.

What an honour!

another profile

Ok, this is the profile of Ralkien. It mostly goes hand in hand with Sarah's profile; different accounts of similar stories. Asha'men can channel the One Power. Basically, they are magic users. Their successive ranks are Soldier, Dedicated and Asha'man. Dedicated status is denoted by a silver sword shaped collar pin, Asha'man status by a coloured dragon shaped collar pin. The Dark One's Eyes as a dice roll is all ones. In some games it is a winning roll, in others a losing roll. I think that is all you need to know. Also written in first person.


Age thirteen...
We were out in the fields, we almost always were; it was safe. My friends and I were playing. We were kids, thats what kids do. We had played in this same field as long as I could remember, it wasn't very large but we had long since divided it up into sections, depending on what game we played.

This day we played Catch The Chicken, there weren't any chickens in the actual game, but we would have teams, one bigger than the other. The bigger team was the Chicken team, the Catchers had to catch all the Chickens. There was a part of the field that was uneven, it was right next to the forest; there were deep holes and large rocks. In Catch The Chicken, this area was the Chicken Pen. The rest of the field was divided into the Crop, where the Catchers had to run through the pretended farmer's crop and Catch the stray Chickens and return them to the Chicken Pen, and the Catcher's house, which was some fallen trees where we could sit and rest; countless people had rested on them and their surfaces were smooth to the touch.

This day, I was a Chicken, along with five other boys, and there were three Catchers. Two of the Chickens were caught and sent to the Pen. O yes, I forgot to tell you, we were smart Chickens, we could open the Chicken Pen from the outside and free all the Chickens if we could get there without being caught. I was running to the Pen to free my fellow Chickens, flapping their 'wings' and squaking to imitate their part. One of the Catchers was chasing me, he was a faster runner than me, but I ran hard that day and managed to stay one step ahead of him, until we closed in on the Pen, and he slowed down - it wasn't smart to run in the Pen, because of the rocks and holes. I hadn't realised how fast I was running and the shouts of the other boys assailed me and told me to stop running before I killed myself.

I turned my head away from watching the Catcher just in time to see the ground slope down right in front of me with a hole where my foot would land. As fast as I was running, if I would've taken a longer stride I would have stumbled, a shorter stride would have put my feet too far behind me and put me flat on my face. I wasn't quick enough to think of either of these things anyway, but a panic grasped my mind, and chills ran down my spine as I knew my ankle would be wrenched in a fraction of a second. My pulse quickened in that instant and I could see every detail of the hole my foot was about to enter; every blade of grass, every tiny pebble of dirt at their bases. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see my foot get ruined. My foot came down, on flat ground, my body still carried forward, I lifted my other foot; it came down, I was still running, and I opened my eyes and forced myself to slow. I watched the pitted land as I ran over it; rocks seemed to flatten and other holes filled themselves up for a few paces until I stopped running, staring in awe. The other boys apparently hadn't seen and were continuing the game, all the Chickens were freed from the Pen and the one Catcher in the Catcher's house came running out to help regather the Chickens.

Ten days later...
I woke up, but at the time, I didn't know I was awake. My vision was murky, clouded with fuzziness, and everything moved as if in a dream. That's what I thought it was; a dream. I tried to move, but my body wouldn't respond, I tried to lift my head, and pain lanced through me, up my spine and attacking the base of my skull. The world I saw through my veiled eyes lurched and my mind felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

The pain didn't recede. I laid in agony, time lost its meaning, I may have drifted off to sleep several times, the only difference was the pain. I don't know if I was awake or asleep at one point, but I felt like I was about to die. I needed to find a way to get rid of the pain, to buffer myself from it. The only thing other than the pain I was aware of was a picture I had seen in a book. There was water, so much water in this picture, and it flew off a cliff and fell into the abyss below. In my mind, I made the pain flow with the water. I managed to sluice it off my mind and it fell away from me into a chasm with no definition, no way to be filled, and no way for the pain to come back.

My vision was still muddled but I could make out general shapes. I believe my mother came to see me and left in a rush, then she came back, with another women, the Wisdom I thought. My mother stayed most of the time, I think, but the Wisdom left; she seemed unable to do anything to remedy whatever was wrong with me.

The only change I noticed was my vision clearing up, I was still sluicing all my emotion into that river as it flew into the chasm. Across my buffer zone, I could all of a sudden feel cold, no longer was pain etching my mind. The image of the void and waterfall vanished and I could see my mother patting my forehead with a damp cloth. From that moment on, the pain was gone.

Age thirteen, later that year...
It seemed lately, that the other boys didn't want to play with me. The weather was perfect, the field was green, but they all seemed able to come up with some excuse to be absent.

At first, after the incident a while ago, the other boys hadn't changed, not right away at least. I don't even know if they noticed what had happened, even when I was home almost that whole day. They still wanted to play with me though. Until I started to win. At first they laughed along with me, but I kept winning. I don't quite know how it happened, I wasn't the fasted runner by far. It didn't depend on the game either, I would win Catch The Chickens, Casting Stones, Sticks and Stones, whatever we played, I seemed to win.

After a while it became evident the other boys didn't want to play with me. I was sick for two days during the summer, but it wasn't like before, no splitting headaches, no high fevers, just a normal sick. After those days I couldn't find my friends anywhere. They would either be home, but unavailable, or simply 'away' doing a chore, running an errand whatever. They wanted to avoid me.

There were still some people I could be friends with, people that hadn't played in the field with me. I started to play with my brothers, they played dice games a lot, and one of their friends played with some cards as well. At first I would watch, but eventually they would let me play too. At first they joked about me being cursed, I would roll the Dark One's Eyes time and again. They laughed at first, but as soon as I started to win, the same thing happened as before. They shunned me, they said a little boy shouldn't be playing with dice.

Age fifteen...
At this time, there was only one person special to me. Her name was Sarah. Either she didn't notice the obscure way things happened around me, or she didn't care, but we didn't talk about it. Even at this young age, I thought - hoped - that I would be with her for life. It seemed that we would, we would always have fun together, go for walks late at night until our parents were worried; we spent a lot of time together. It was she who introduced me to the world of books. We would often read together, stories of far away lands, mythical lands. Shara, past the Aiel waste, the Blight, where men fought bravely day after day, the Shining Walls of Tar Valon, where lived Aes Sedai. We would sit enthralled for hours, not uttering a word, our presence with each other and the stories were enough.

As I said, we would walk, mostly for the sake of being together; being alone, together. When we walked, it would be her taking me to places. She had several secret places, places she never told anybody about, places where she could be entirely alone. I was amazed that she could find so many inside a city, but living near the edge of it as we both did, she managed. We would sit for hours underneath an old unused wagon, or a dead-end alley that was clean but never visited by people, simply sit and talk, and be together.

But she wasn't available all the time. Like normal people there would be days, sometimes weeks, where her parents would take her somewhere, or when she became sick, and there was nobody for me to be with. The magic of the books weren't enough during those times, I had to find another way to keep busy. At first I would sit alone, training my mind to summon the River, sluicing my emotions into it as it flowed into the depthless chasm. Whether the River raged or swept calmly by, the emptiness brought peace to my mind.

Also, along the years I had started to learn to use a bow. At first I could only use my brother's bow, as he taught me. Later, I had saved my allowances and managed to buy my own bow and practiced with that a lot. Flowing along the River brought calm and also brought concentration. The depth of the chasm seemed to reach beyond me, so deep, reaching past my eyes to the target. And instead of feeding all my feelings into the River, some I poured into the arrow. The chasm would call the arrow, lead it to the target, as I loosed it and it flew straight and true.

After years of practice, the long hours when I couldn't be with Sarah, loosing arrows became something I could identify with. I became very good, and it was calming. Whether there was strong wind, rain, or any element of nature, I could point an arrow into the air and loose it. The chasm led the arrow to the target. The more I practiced, the better I became.

Age seventeen...
One day, Sarah and I were walking, we headed towards the field I used to play in. She led me across the field into the trees. I questioned our destination in my mind, but said nothing. Aburptly we came into a small opening, barely 2 paces across. I hadn't seen it as we approached, but from inside, the forest was visible in nearly all directions for a small distance. Sarah released my hand, cross the clearing, bent to retrieve something and returned. I opened my mouth to ask her what he was doing, but she pressed her finger to my lips after I said only her name. She pressed something into my palm, something warm. I looked down at it, it was an oval stone, deep blue-green in colour. Instantly it reminded me of Sarah's eyes, which I had spent many hours gazing into. I looked into those pools, those beautifully deep pools of colour, and said, "Sarah, it is beautiful, thank you." I realized I was grinning, Sarah had small smile on her lips, and water in the corners of her eyes. She wrapped me in a hug, and I returned it. We sat there and talked for a long time that day, until we could barely see each other in the failing light. She led me back out of the forest and he hugged once more before returning to our homes. That whole week, I never saw her.

A few days later a bunch of black clad men, called themselves the Asha'man, came. I hadn't seen them but word spread almost as fast as they apparently appeared. They were testing just about every male in sight, claiming to be recruiting for the Dragon Reborn. Me being the misfit I had become, willingly submitted myself for testing, hoping I'd fit in. I sought them out and was tested. They said I would be able to learn to channel, something about being born with a 'spark' and told me to go through a gate, they called it Travelling. I asked there was time to say bye, the reply was a curt "Little." I hurried off to find Sarah, but as had been the case of the past few days, she was not to be found, though I searched everywhere I knew.

I returned to the Asha'man, all I had was a book in my hand, and the stone Sarah gave to me in my pocket. I would never be found without that. Especially after that day. I pressed my hand against my pocket to make sure it was there. I would treasure it forever, for who she was, for what she was; to me. I hoped I would see her again, and I still hold that hope even though years have passed, and my life has changed much.

A tear slipped from my eye as I stepped out of the gate. I was in a large place in the middle of nowhere, a bunch of men surrounded me, wearing black. I began my training that day and have since moved from Soldier to Dedicated. I aspire to the Dai Mahdi'in, the Battle Seekers, and will be raised to Asha'man soon after my training.

wheel of time rp profile

This is Sarah, she has no last name, doesn't know her history... but could likely be a late repercussion of Aginor's experiments, before he got Draghkar just right. For those in the dark, a Draghkar is basically an 8 foot tall bat like thing... they don't speak, but their songs seduce humans to a state of unresistable paralysis. It is in first person.

I loved to dream. My dreams were filled with such things of beauty, things of majesty, things one could only dream of. In my dreams I could fly from the Aryth Ocean to The Spine Of The World, I could fly above the Atha'an Miere, and I could fly above the Great Blight. I would soar effortlessly through clear cloudless skies. The joy of it would warm me. I wish I could still dream this way, but dreams have changed. I have changed. This is my story...

Age ten...
The wind whipped through my sand-coloured hair as the ground swept by below my feet. Nations passed under me, Dragonmount reared on the horizon. I was free. The darkening sky wove beautiful cloud shapes as I spun my gaze away from the ground. The dusk air chilled my skin as I glided through it. The warm sun beamed down upon my back. I rolled in flight, closing my eyes to let the sun embrace me, but a chill as if from midnight incarnate held me. I opened my eyes with a gasp and my body felt torn apart. The sun no longer shone as it descended, and at the evening sky's zenith was a darkness to absorb all light. From the chilled air came droplets of water which froze to my skin as I plummeted, my wings failing me. The time has come to fulfill your legacy... ahh my child, your time has come.

I still fell, twisting in midnight's embrace. My eyes heralded trees that swept towards me. I could no longer fly, only fall. Tree's limbs scratched the now heartless sky, grasped upward as if to catch my body. The tips of branches like daggers pierced the sky as I fell. The voice crooned, You will fall away from this life, into vast darkness. Embrace me.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, but they felt like beading out. I felt only the cold, like frozen pins in my body, I knew I would hit the trees soon. I opened my mouth and shrieked, blood-curling terror as the trees stabbed into my body.

I was wide awake. In my bed. The darkness was still there, the cold was still there, but I was in my bed, lying wrapped in my blankets. My body convulsed, the pain was still there too, like daggers ripping into my back. I reached behind me and my heart almost stopped as I felt my back. Big bumps of cartilage stood out, running parallel the length of my spine; from my shoulder blades running down my back. Terror struck my mind, and I curled into a ball. The pegs holding my bed together creaked and I froze. If anybody saw me like this... my mind shuddered, but I dared not move more. The bumps were still there but the daggers of pain receded. After a while of trying not to think about it, and shifting in my bed, I was able to fall asleep again.

I shivered awake the next morning, my nightclothes sticking cold to my body with sweat. I remembered with terror the night before and it was minutes until I worked up the nerve to reach behind me. I held my breath and felt my back - the bumps were gone. My skin felt very dry, but the bumps were gone. What is happening to me? What was that? I can't let anybody find out... that voice... I didn't want to remember that voice, as cold as death itself. I was so scared that day, in case somebody might have found out. I stayed away from all my friends. I found some places where I could be completely alone, places where nobody lived.

Age twelve...
That first night was only a memory after a while. The details of it escaped to the back of my mind and I was able to convince myself to talk to my friends more - not about that night though, never about that night.

That first night was only a memory, until it happened again. I had the same dream, and when I woke up the daggers of pain stabbed into my back. The pain didn't go away this time though, but I dared not scream. The darkness of my room played on my mind and I started to make things up that weren't there. Unable to fall asleep again, I got up and went to one of my spots, deep in the forest where nobody would find me. The pain still lingered and tears crept down my cheeks. In the clouded moonlight I could see very little, but enough to notice small bumps along my arms as well, and something else... my skin didn't look right. It wasn't the bumps but in the moonlight I could see colour, my skin was a dark blue, and very dry. Terror laced my veins and my body shook. I wanted to scream, but if anybody saw me like this...

Come home, Sarah.

I jumped at the voice and looked around, surely nobody knew of this place, and then the realization struck. That was no ordinary voice, that was the voice of death, from my dreams. But was it here? It couldn't be.

This life will fall away... Embrace me.

That voice came inside my head, like in my dreams. I could restrain myself no longer, death was inside my head telling me to embrace it. I screamed, and the sound pierced the night. I heard people moving around, saw lights turn on through the foliage. I had to get away before they found me, like this. I ran. I don't know which way at first but I ended up at my house and got back to bed, shivering. The running let me forget about the pain, and I slept.

Come morning once again the bumps were gone and my skin returned to its original colour. The only difference was my hair. It was very light, sand-coloured only months ago and now it was turning darker, almost unnoticeably, but definitely a darker shade.

This time the fear stayed with me, the memory did not fade. I had the dream more often, and each time it was worse, the pain was not as sharp, but the bumps were larger and my skin darker. It all faded by morning, all except the voice. Cold as death it whispered any time I though of telling somebody, when I thought I couldn't handle it anymore. It whispered when I wanted to be with my friends. It was always whispering in my mind, and I couldn't escape it.

There was one small comfort left to me. His name is Ralkien Malfouri. We had been friends since we were... well, as long as I can remember. We were never the best of friends, but as close as children get. Since the first time I had the dream though, I had avoided him; if he found out... I didn't want to lose another friend. But recently, even though I have been avoiding him, I've noticed other people avoiding him. He didn't play with his friends in the field as much, sometimes I didn't see him at all for days. When I was thirteen, I was a year younger than Ral, I decided I would befriend him again. I was tired of being alone, and the voice in my head wasn't very comforting.

Age fourteen...
Ral and I did become friends again, thank the Light. It seemed he was as lonely as I, but I wasn't about to tell him what was happening to me. When we were together I was happy, I could forget the voice, forget the nights when I woke with fear driving my heart, fear of the voice being right, that this life would fall away and that only darkness would be left.

Ral seemed to be very happy too, I would walk with him often and show him my secret places, I would take him to the library and we would read for hours about all sorts of things. Ral liked to read stories about places I could fly to in my dreams. We would also read books about the Old Tongue, and laugh as we could never pronounce the words right. We tried anyways and could remember some words. We would call each other mi cue, my heart. I don't think it is a direct translation, but that made it even more special to us.

Age sixteen...
Once when we were walking, when I showed him the last of my secret places, the one deep in the forest by the field. I retrieved a rock, one I had found and kept. I held it in my palm, it was oval shaped and flat, about the length of my thumb. It was a murky green, and almost seemed to swirl in the light. It reminded me of a picture I saw in a book once, a picture of a pool inside a cave, as if in the heart of a mountain. It looked like water, so clean and deep. I looked up into Ral's eyes, eyes as deep as the forest around them. He was about to say something, so I put my finger on his lips and pressed the stone into his palm. "Ral, keep this. From me, remember me. Forever. Mi cue." I whispered.

He stared back into my eyes, "Sarah, what...?" he glanced into his palm and caught his breath. "Sarah, it's beautiful. I... thank you." He smiled as I wrapped him in my arms. If he only knew... I thought. I was planning to run away, to be rid of everything, and I wanted Ral to remember me. A tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away before he saw. I would spend as much time with Ral as I could before I left, but I couldn't stay forever. We spent a long time there, just sitting and talking. Ral told me I was beautiful, that he could be with me forever. My heart shattered, because I knew we could never be. He told me that when he looked into the stone it was like gazing into my eyes, and he blushed. I will remember that bittersweet day forever.

That night I dreamed again, but it was different. I was flying over the world, but the sky was dark the whole time. Flying beside me were other things, almost indistinguishable in the faded light, but they looked like giant bats. They flew closer to me and I felt their dry skin rub against mine. Then they started to sing, a haunting song, a song that reached into my soul and gripped me. The voice crooned in my mind, Come home Sarah, embrace me... This time there was no falling, the group of bats flew with me through the night singing to me, and the voice whispered.

The next morning I woke up, my whole body was dry, and chilled. In the morning light I saw my hair hanging in front of my eyes, it had turned a very dark brown, almost black. That day I stayed away from Ral, that whole week I stayed in my secret places, and Ral never found me. I cried myself to sleep every night out of misery. Every night I had that dream again, where I flew with the bats.

I went to the library to see if I could anything about these beasts, I remembered seeing a picture of something like them once. I found a book, it was a soldier's diary, apparently from a very long time ago, possibly from another age. I read through it as he described the battles he fought against Shadowspawn, him and the army he fought with. His king was Aemon and he rode with the Red Eagle into every battle. The soldier was very proud of his land and he fought valiantly. In one of his entries he described the enemy, the Trollocs and Myrddraal, and large human-like flying bats. Draghkar. The description fit perfectly with my dream. Shadowspawn. That scared me and I left the library, hoping nobody saw me.

After that week, I went to find Ral again, but he was nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere, I even asked people if they had seen him, people he knew. Most of them walked away, but one said, "He left. He has been gone for two days. Some Asha'man came, they took him away, to be part of the Dragon Reborn's army."

The news hit me as hard with emotion as the first night I awoke to being a mutant. Ral was gone. Not only that, but he was recruited for the Dragon Reborn. That meant he could channel the One Power. That meant I would never see him again.

That night, I wept long before I was able to sleep, but when I did sleep, I dreamed again, but it was different. I flew with the Draghkar through dark skies again, but this time, I flew above them and I lead them, and they followed. Anywhere I flew, they flew behind me, always singing. I realized I was flying over the Blight, over top of Shayol Ghul itself and the Draghkar fell away. Compelled by their singing I followed them down and lighted on the slopes of Thakan'dar. I looked up to see a man standing there, with caverns of fire for eyes. He opened his mouth to speak and there seemed a furnace behind his mask, a yawning depth of unquenchable fire. He smiled, and without moving his lips, I heard, Welcome home, Sarah.

I woke instantly, shivering. I shifted in my bed and felt something. Something other than the bumps. I reached behind me, starting from my shoulder blades and extending down my back were two thick columns of cartilage with large flaps of skin stretching between them and similar branches of cartilage jutting out near my shoulders. They were so dry, yet strong and flexible. More than skin, I realized, wings. The branches were jointed, and folded in half, and the skin was attached from along the length of them to the runners along my back.

It was still night, nobody was awake. I got out of bed and packed some of my possessions in a small bag. I grabbed some food and left. I ran away from my house, left Aringil, and kept running. My wings shifted underneath my shirt, the dry skin chafing. I flexed the muscles lining my back and spikes of cartilage lining my wings ripped the fabric of my shirt. I flexed harder and my wings ripped free. I spread my wings into the air, but they were too weak yet. I tore my shredded shirt off and wrapped myself with my wings to keep warm. I didn't feel the cold much though, I knew I should be shivering but I was almost warm.

I kept running and hiding, and running more. I think I had gone north, and followed the river. After months I made it to Kinslayer's Dagger. I had read enough books to be able to survive, but the practice was different than the theory. A few weeks after that, my wings developed and the coldest night's air no longer bothered me. I thought often of Ral, and what had become of him, I missed him dearly, and I wondered if he ever thought about me. Even if he did and we ever saw each other again, things would be different.

About a year has passed now, since I've been living in the Dagger. My hair has turned black as pitch and my skin as well is dark as a week old fire's ashes. I have learned to survive though. The voice still whispers to me, tells me that I am home, but mostly I can ignore it. Someday I will find Ral again, and until then, I look forward to it.