Blackened Skys...

[Robert]

“A thousands curses, and the fish eat you, Aes Sedai!”

The ship rocked from a massive breaker that washed salty water over the deck, rocking in the dark, in the middle of the storms that gave this sea its name. Lightning struck not so far from the ship.

“I’m not–”

“Do I care if you are Aes Sedai or not? No! Fleet will not go far if you hold back!”

As if to emphasize her words, the ship was struck by another breaker and nearly keeled over.

“How can I help? You are handling vast weaves of the power in ways I don’t understand,” Elisande said in a more hurried voice than her usual drawl. “I’ve never even tried to change the weather before...”

The rocking grew larger and larger. Even a Sea Folk ship might not hold up.

“You are Aes Sedai!”

Lightning flashed to add a glare to the already striking eyes that she had.

“I am not Aes Sedai!” she cried. “Aes Sedai wrecked our lives long ago! I am no Aes Sedai! I am marath’damane, and nothing is going to change that!”

“Light flee from you, Aes Sedai, get that nonsense out of your head!”

Even worse, the ship rolled from side to side, as the rain almost tore into her skin, into her hair. Lightnings crashed down on each side, breakers washed over the deck...

“I’m going to have to steady the ship, that’s the most I can do. I’m afraid were heading south.”

“South? Why south? Tremalking–”

“Tremalking,” the Windfinder shouted over the howling wind and the thundering rain, “is already too far to the north! I am afraid we are going to find ourselves in a land far to the south–”

“Which land?”

“Must you know, Aes Sedai? The Land of Madmen.”

Thunder rolled to punctuate her words.

[Robert]

The ship was not adrift, nor would it ever be. Sea Folk vessels never seemed to be adrift. However, Elisande felt adrift. Nobody cared about her. She was an afterthought at the mess hall, she was an afterthought when included in conversations. She missed being cared about. She missed her sul’dam. It seemed that none of the Sea Folk, least of all the Windfinders could fathom this, but it was true.

She had nothing to do, and mainly stayed on deck. No one cared, unless she got in the way. Her sul’dam had always cared for her, always made sure she was all right. She even missed the collar, for her sul’dam had always sympathized with her, always knowing why she was troubled. Come back, my people, come back! she called to the winds. However, they blew ceaselessly, uncaring for her emotions or calls. No one cared at all about her.

Dinner was forgotten, tonight. She had no reason to eat, no reason to live. No reason to attempt to survive. She went to bed, not caring if she woke or not.

She had a strange sensation that night. As if when she walked in her dream, she was really walking. She had had it before this. And she dreamed that the ship would com ashore on a strange land, and a man would be there. A tall, handsome man. She fell in love in the dream, fell in love and never wanted to go back. But was shaken awake in the morning, torn away from her life's love. But she knew, somhow, the dream would come true.

[Robert]

Drake warmed his hands, rubbing them together over the warm fire. A sad night the last had been. He had had to kill over two dozen villagers with his sword and saidin. Killed them, till every last one was torn to pieces, slaughtered by his own hand. He had blood on his hands, and all he could do was reassure himself he had had to.

If he had not, after all, those villagers would have killed and mutilated him. Or so he told himself, over and over. He had wandered their village, looking around. Houses left abandoned, derelicts of the people who had lived there, those who were no longer alive. Their spirits were gone. He felt emptiness inside of himself. How many threads had he ruined, how many souls in the Dark One’s grasp were cursing him for his inhumanity.

It made him want to weep, all of it. Why this time? Why not the other times? Why not after he had burned down villages with more than a hundred? Why not after he had crushed an entire army under his glare? Why now did he feel guilt and pain? He remembered the last moments of those people, lost in their madness, cut down by a swath of fire from nowhere. Their perpetual madness erased by fear, and sanity at the moment of their death. He remembered it, and his head hurt with the memory. The pain. The guilt. That which he had inflicted. In Self Defense! he cried. The wind did not hear him, did not pity him, but blew mercilessly onward.

And carried on its gusts something. A ship? Yes, a ship! He had missed a ship like this by just a few minutes, last time. He would not be left behind in this mad land this time! Not again! Escape!

[Robert]

The Sea Folk ship anchored in a small bay, and the Windfinders were wary. “Aes Sedai, can you scout the hills with your powers?”

“I am not Aes Sedai!” Elisande said again.

“Whatever,” the Windfinder muttered.

The shore was deserted, no one was even there. Was there good hunting in the Land of the Madmen? Who knew? The Windfinder was muttering again.

“Where are those crazy natives? They ought to be here by now, a screaming horde.”

A man burst out of the bushes, running towards the ship.

“Aes Sedai!” The Windfinder snapped. “Bind him.”

Elisande was in no mood to argue, and duly wrapped the man in flows of Air–

–Only to have them snap back to her, the weaves broken. She cried, “He can channel!” and attempted to slam a shield around him, which he blocked with surprising force. Her flows were met by invisible flows, and she could not break through. Impossible! No one was as strong as her!

“Aes Sedai! Why is he thrashing about?” the Windfinder’s voice cracked like a whip, and she lost concentration for a moment, answering irritably,

“I am trying to shield him!”

With those words, she was shielded, and wrapped in flows of Air, pinning her arms to her side, and her mouth open with a gag of Air. The Windfinder, too, shrieked as she was similarly shielded and pinned. The man walked closer to the ship, with Elisande struggling against the shield, but failing miserably. Strangely, he was grinning.

“Not the way I’d like to make my entrance, but you did attack me. I would like to ask for passage to your isles,” he said, still in a cheerful voice.

Inside her head, Elisande shrieked again as the Sailmistress nodded and motioned to her quarters. A man who could channel? On the same ship as her? She struggled against the bonds and shield again, but could do nothing. She was trapped in a nightmare.

[Robert]

The man was here to stay, apparently. The Sailmistress had agreed passage in return for a gift of several thousand gold bars he had stockpiled. Elisande was skeptical about wether he would or not provide them, but he did, the next day, standing next to a gleaming pile of gold, grinning in that cursed irritating way of his.

He could get bloody annoying at times, and though he never mentioned the incident between them in the whole time they passaged to a Sea Folk isle, he still seemed too arrogant to be believed. They arrived quickly, and found little of interest there, so they continued north. And she began to like this strange man more and more, despite his odd ways. He had a good sense of humor and a charming smile.

The vessel they traveled was bound for Tear, though neither knew what would be there when they arrived.

[Tony]

Nice Bob, nice