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keep bleeding into the light
ellie sedai meets the dragon and friends
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The Two Rivers is the most remote province of Andor, tucked away in the far west next to the Mountains of Mist. Though to be honest, calling it a province is giving it too much credit. Most Two Rivers folk don't care much for the world beyond the river banks. It doesn't bother them, and they don't bother it. Tam al'Thor leaving to seek his fortune and coming back with a new wife and a baby was the talk of the town, at least until- well. Some things still aren't spoken of out in the open, or in front of the children. But the blacksmith's apprentice is a fine girl and seems to be growing up free of... unsavory influence.

It's been a long, hard winter for Emond's Field. The approach of spring is greeted with relief, even as frost lingers, and preparations begin for Bel Tine. The village council has ordered fireworks from the peddler, and sent for a gleeman. The weather slowed them but they arrived just in time- And they're not the only visitors. A noble lady and her bodyguard were also rumored to have arrived late last night, rousting the innkeeper (and mayor) out of his bed in order to secure lodgings. The lady said she was some kind of historian, according to the gossip that morning. No one has any idea what sort of history she could possibly be looking for here, of all places.

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The fun kind, possibly - the kind Katwyn hasn't heard yet certainly - Katwyn has read every book she can get her hands on, and pestered the peddler to bring more besides, and drawn out every secret the land will give her, and scribbled out every story she could wring from the older folk, and written more than a few of her own - with charcoal on wood when she has to - 

Clearly, if the lady wants history, Katwyn's the best to talk to. (And she gets told as such.) Katwyn, though, has tasks to run still for the blacksmith and can't take off just because something interesting is happening. 

She wants to, though, and so she works hard and efficiently at that day's task, mentally cataloging her savings - she'll need some coins for the peddler, some to lure every last tale out of the gleeman, and now some to buy a noble lady a few drinks...

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"Pst! Kat!" A voice whisper-calls to her from around the wall of the forge.

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...Mrph, she was focusing on some wire - 

"What?" she whispers back. 

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Mat pokes his head around. "Is Luhhan seriously making you work Winternight? You know there's a gleeman, right?"

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"It's not Winternight yet, and I'll be done soon," she says, tidying up a bit. "But yeah, I'll have off."

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"Oh good. Can I interest you in setting up some rival entertainment that may or may not involve a badger?"

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"I was planning to go woo a certain visiting lady..."

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"Think of it as another classic Emond's Field story to grab her interest."

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"But what if it makes me look uncool?"

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"Then her opinion of you can only go up from there."

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"I somehow doubt that's how flirting works, Mat."

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"No, no, it is. You know I've flirted loads, you can trust me."

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"And you've succeeded... How often?"

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"That's besides the point."

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"Not for my purposes!"

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"Well, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, in any case."

Yeah that's a much better line, he should lead with that next time.

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Hum. 

"Tragically... I think I'm going to have to avoid any public association with your shenanigans. Just as long as we have guests, you know."

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"What about private associations?"

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"Depends on if you get caught."

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"Come on, I haven't gotten caught in years."

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"Fair." Grin. "Private help it is."

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"I'll be around back of the stable."

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"See you there."

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Mat grins and ducks out of sight again.

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Three cats (at least, three visible cats) are waiting for him behind the stable, glaring and tails flicking back and forth. 

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Always with the cats. "Aw, come on guys. You gotta let me have some excitement."

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Mrrrrrrrrr.

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Bribes it is. Fortunately, he stashed some bits of meat for just such an eventuality.

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Acceptable.

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And Katwyn shows up before he finishes. 

"Are you letting the cats shake you down for treats again?"

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"I'm allowed to have one weakness."

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"And the cats are pretty sure this doesn't count as one, so..." She crouches down to start doling out scritches. (There's more than three cats, now.)

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"There you go, then."

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"Works out well."

"So... Badger?"

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"Stashed in the woodshed. I want to make sure there's enough of a crowd on the green, first."

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Serious nodding. "And what help do you need from me?"

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"I was hoping you could wrangle the crowd without looking like you're doing that."

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"Oh, I definitely can."

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"Perfect. You get the guests, and I'll introduce the star of the show."

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"You're gonna owe me one."

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"Naturally."

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"So what's our schedule?"

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"Now that you're here, we can get started right away."

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"Not giving me any time to seduce the pretty lady first?"

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"If I did that, you'd definitely get distracted and forget about your part."

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"I wouldn't! Promise."

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"Maybe you could flirt while you're herding people."

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...Hum.

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"Also I don't want to keep the badger too much longer or it'll be too angry."

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"We should be nicer to the badger, true." 

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"So you'll help now?"

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Hm... "Yeah."

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Haha! Yes! "Knew I could count on you."

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Giggle. "C'mon, let's go."

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Off to prank the village with a badger.

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And keep her eyes open for visiting pretty ladies...

And figure out a way to draw attention away from Mat, of course.

- Which she finds on accident, when she notices some ravens watching her. Little bastards.

But she's a bigger bastard with a keen eye and a deft hand and minions children who'll bring more rocks (or help throw) and also a baker's dozen of cats, so, her win.

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It's not contest against the ravens, who go squawking away in a flurry of black wings as soon as the first of their number gets hit.


Then the chaos is repeated on the ground below as a furious badger charges across the common, hitting the group from behind.

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Stepping out from the inn door, a woman in exquisite clothes observes these happenings with a faintly amused expression

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(The five cats jumping up to high ground behind her are not amused.)

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- Oh gosh she's pretty.

Katwyn is going to avoid the badger - and make sure no one trips over any cats, scooping one clumsy barely-not-a-kitten up as she does so, and somehow conveniently finds herself over by the pretty lady, several cats darting past them to the inside and the safety of high shelves. 

"Hi," she says, like an idiot. 

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"Hello," she says.

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Grin! "You're the one asking about history stories, aren't you?"

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"Yes, I'm something of a collector."

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"I could tell you some."

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"Oh?"

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"I've gathered all the stories people here know, and some they don't - and I'd like whatever stories you have, too." Pause, and eyeing the chaos on the green. "Somewhere quieter."

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"Back inside, perhaps?" she suggests.

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"Sounds perfect."

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She holds the door for the younger girl.

"What is your name?" she inquires.

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"I'm Katwyn. What's yours?"

There's some comfortable tables in the corners - including one that's pretty much Katwyn's seat, with nice cushions and doodles of cats still scratched into the table's surface from when she first started living with the al'Veres. 

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"You may call me Lady Alys."

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"A lady. Don't see too many of those around here."

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"Not in these days, certainly."

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"Not in a long time - not in memory. Though," she leans forward conspiratorially, "There's some foundation stones of what must have been a massive fort," Grin, "Nay, a castle, buried in one of the hills, and there's some little fragments of pottery and knives and all... think a very grand lady must have lived there once."

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"That is certainly possible. Once, very long ago, this area was the seat of a great kingdom, one of the first to emerge in the aftermath of the Breaking."

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Interested noise! "What was it called?"

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"Manetheren was the name."

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"I haven't heard of it..."

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"It was destroyed during the Trolloc Wars."

She begins to weave the tale of Manetheren's fall, the heroics that marked its fate, the stratagems of the dreadlords to draw off the army, the frenzied march and last-minute stand on the banks of the river, the impossible hold against far superior numbers, stretching one hour into one day, one day into two, three, four, until the realization that no reinforcements were coming. The continued hold, the bravery of those with nothing left to lose, spitting defiance at the Shadow with their final breaths. The common folk of the nation who arrived during the fighting retreat, there to defend their land, their home, with their own efforts, returning the selfsame gift of the king. The final death of King Aemon, and Queen Eldrene's last sacrifice which purged the forces of darkness from the field- but too late, for Manetheren had died that day, and what was left could not resist the following attacks.

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She's enthralled. 

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It is quite a compelling story.

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And a lovely narrator. 

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That is somewhat beside the point.

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The skill of narration is a major part of what keeps the audience interested, though - of course, Kat would want to hear all this anyways, but Lady Alys makes it fun. 

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"You flatter me, child."

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"I tell the truth! Luckily, it's flattering right now."

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"A fortunate coincidence, then."

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"Very much so - hearing good stories and flattering pretty women are some of my favorite things."

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"What of telling stories?"

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"Another item on the list."

"Do you wanna hear some, now?"

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"I would."

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None of her stories are quite so epic - but Katwyn knows a lot, recent and otherwise. Some of it's more local gossip, but, well. That's another kind of history. 

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Lady Alys isn't one to turn down gossip. She follows along with Katwyn's tales, gently probing to focus her inquiries. (It's subtle, but she's most interested in the activities of Katwyn's age-cohort. Odd coincidences, too much luck, unexplainable happenings, that sort of thing.)

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Well...

Not much is odder than her - Katwyn's parents were killed and eaten by cats (housecats and lynxes both) when she was small. She doesn't seem at all bothered by this - in fact, she talks about it like an interesting scandal - and apparently that's about when Edmund's Field and the Two Rivers as a whole started having the rather noteworthy concentration of cats it does.

(Otherwise - Mat's a prankster; Liland's mom is foreign and no one really talks openly about it but his dad probably wasn't the one who got his mom pregnant, and a lot of people think she was a camp follower, though Liland will deck you if you insult her over that; such and such boys are very gullible, such and such widow keeps trying to seduce the peddler...)

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She takes down notes in a small diary as Katwyn talks.

"I would be interested in speaking with your friends as well. If you could let them know that, I would appreciate it."

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"Mat and Liland? What for?"

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"A broader perspective. History, real history, is built from the ground up. I would like to capture as much of that as I can."

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Hum. "They both pay a lot of attention to the world, too."

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"So much the better, then."

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"I'll introduce you."

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"Thank you, Miss Katwyn."

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Bright giggle! "Liland's not going to be in town right now though, and I bet Mat's busy."

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"I suppose you might have me to yourself a while longer, then."

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"Oh, good."

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What other stories shall they share?

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Katwyn would like some about the world outside the Two Rivers, now...

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She has enough of those to keep Katwyn occupied a good long while.

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Perfect. 

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Meanwhile - 

Liland and his father had arrived early for deliveries - and left early again. They'll return for the festivities tomorrow, but... 

Liland saw a strange man, a rider on a black horse, whose dark cloak didn't move in the wind, and his father didn't believe him at first, but... Liland isn't the only one, and neither he nor his father are comfortable leaving the farm untended at a time like this. 

(At a time like this, Liland wishes he could fight. Not something he normally has to worry about - you chase wolves and fox away with noise and a few stones or arrows, not your fists or axe. But a few boyhood brawls aside - no matter if Kat still teases him over them - well. He likely wouldn't win those brawls nowadays, no matter his height and strength.)

Liland's quieter than normal, scanning the trees constantly as they approach the farm. 

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"Remember the flame, lad, and the void," his father, Tam al'Thor, counsels, clapping Liland on the shoulder as they reach the farmstead. "Don't let your worry overpower your sense." (He's been watching the treeline as they go too, his eyes practiced and hard, slipping into a soldier's old familiar habits.) "See to Bela, then the woodpile needs restocking. I'll be checking the paddock, then working on the back plot."

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He smiles and tales a deep breath, searching for that flickering stillness in his own heart. "Sure, dad."

Working with Bela is meditative, too - though there's worrisome things threaded throughout the farm. They're out of oats, now, with no indication of a harvest coming soon; the early season vegetables they planted are struggling, more weeds than food and not that many weeds at all; the cow gave only a third her normal milk this morning; and he only finds three eggs when he checks the hen house on his way. 

There's - not much he can do about it right now, though, so he breathes evenly, and centers his mind on that flame in the void, and goes to add wood to the burgeoning piles.

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There's no obvious threats as he works. Everything around the farm is quiet.

Perhaps too quiet- No bird calls, no rustling foliage, no distant wolf howls or coughing mountain cat.

As the sun begins its track down towards the western hills, Liland might notice a group of ravens sitting on the eave of the barn, out of the corner of his eye.

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They make him uneasy. 

He's gotten plenty enough wood chopped - there hasn't been much else to do on the farm - and he still has mending to do, dinner to cook, a house to clean...

Liland sets aside the wood ax and goes inside, looking for his father - and blurting out, "The ravens are - weird."

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Tam scowls. "Bad as crows they are, blighted scavengers." He sets down his needle and the shirt he's stitching. "Let's run them off, then. We don't need them hanging around this night."

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Terse nod, and he retrieves and strings his bow.

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Tam lets Liland take the first shot-

-and that sends the ravens flying, their harsh cries shattering the stillness.

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"Well, they're gone for now..."

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"Aye. Keep an eye out though, lad, I've a feeling they'll be back."

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"I will."

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When they get back inside, Tam goes up to his bedroom and Liland can hear the scraping sound of furniture being moved. When he returns, he has a sword wrapped in a dark leather sheath. The blade looks to be about a pace long, and is slightly curved. As he sets it down on the side table, Liland can see a stylized heron embossed on the hilt.

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Liland hasn't seen that before.

"Is that from when you were a soldier?"

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"It is." His face is grim. "Never thought I'd take it out again, but. Well."

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"You're expecting more trouble than just wolves."

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"That rider you saw was no wolf, was he?"

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"No, he wasn't."

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"So." He nods. "I hope I won't need it, but better safe than sorry, eh?"

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Nod. "Should we close the shutters and all, too?"

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"Good thinking, lad."

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He goes to do that - and secures and locks the back door, too. They can use the main door if they need to check on the animals or something 

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There's enough to keep them occupied inside- mending, dinner, perhaps some time with one of the books on the shelf.

 

But their dinner is interrupted by a heavy knock on the door.

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- There is no good reason for someone to be out here - 

Liland stands, picks up his bow - glances at his father - 

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Tam nods at Liland, reaches for his sword-

 

-Then the door explodes inwards in a shower of splinters and a bestial hulking fur-covered monster forces its way into the house.

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Aaaaaah what. 

This is not a good environment to use his bow in! Liland will instead throw an iron kettle at the what the fuck is that. 

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It roars and bats the kettle aside like it's made of paper instead of iron.

"Run, lad!" Tam shouts, unsheathing the sword and charging into the boar-headed abomination's path, ducking under it's backswing and drawing a line of blood up it's side. "Run!"

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- His dad knows how to fight - but - 

- Liland will be more useful not in the house, not enclosed like this - if he can get up high and shoot the monster - if he's not distracting his dad - 

Liland thinks very quickly. 

And he runs. (He tries to find the flame and the void within him, tries to figure out - frantically, furiously - how to help his father - )

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Two of the shuttered windows are forced open and more horrible monsters attempt to squeeze their way in to the house. Their guttural war cries are enough to send shivers up the spine, if the spine wasn't so distracted by running. These ones have long poky weapons, so Lilands got to worry about dodging the sharp edges on his way out of the house.

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Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

(He hates being helpless, more than anything - )

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It seems like the back of the house is clear, if he can get there, if he can get the door unbarred-

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- He doesn't want to leave his dad more vulnerable to enemies from behind. 

He can get up to the loft, though, and shoot from up there - make his way to one of the attic vents if the monsters start climbing up - 

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Which they do, very quickly.

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Out onto the roof it is - 

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There were five or six of the monsters in the house, and it looks like there's another ten or twelve surrounding it. The couple who chased him up start shoving their weapons up and through the roof.

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He drops low over one of the beams - tries to figure out if any of the monsters on the ground have noticed him yet, if there's any safe gaps - but he's moving quickly and doesn't have time to aim much.

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He can probably drop down the side and get away, if he's quick.

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He is.

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The woods are looking pretty inviting, in terms of somewhere to hide and catch his breath.

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Sounds - better than the alternatives. 

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As he retreats, some of the monsters break off from menacing the house to start causing destruction elsewhere. Breaking fences, slaughtering sheep, killing the chickens- And those two look like they're about to set fire to the barn.

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Rage floods through him - this is his home, his father, and he's helpless to save them - his father had said violence only begets violence but they didn't start this - his mind is nothing but the void and the flame within it and a desire that those bastards fall on their own weapons, that the fire in their hands burns them instead - 

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The flickering flame at the head of the torch seems to leap out as its wielder rises unsteadily, catching the other's mane alight. It bellows in rage and swipes a blow at the offender, but its weapon slips out of its hand and goes flying to clip yet another monster- And then at least half the group are fighting each other, destruction of the farm forgotten.

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Good - he hopes they all burn - 

Liland slinks around the chaos, freeing the livestock - including Bela - and doing his best to further fan the infighting, and he's not strong but he's clever and incredibly quiet for his size, and he's fueled by more than enough anger - 

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It seems to go on forever, but before he knows it the remaining monsters are retreating back into the woods, leaving the corpses of their comrades scattered around.

 

There's a low moan from inside the house, if he listens carefully.

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He's heading inside the house, moans or not - he hasn't seen his father -

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Tam is on the floor, fingers a few inches from his sword, in a pool of slowly spreading blood.

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No!

Liland kneels by his father - strips off his own shirt, tries to find and stem the bleeding - 

Luckily, he knows more about wounds than fighting - living where they do means they deal with farm accidents and livestock injuries by themselves or not at all - his brain is scattering - 

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A long gash down his side and across the stomach.

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That's - really bad.

You need to keep intestinal injuries moist - there's some water that looks unspoiled from what dad drew up for their baths - Liland binds the wound as best he can. And he's going to need to get dad back to the village - they need more treatment - he'll need a litter, Bela if he can find her - if she's alive - 

He goes to look for the horse, and to get together something to carry his dad on. 

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Bela's findable (still unharmed) and he can lash up a travois easily enough.

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Then back towards the village - keeping an eye and ear out for more of the monsters.

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The walk back is quiet, except for his father's feverish ramblings that start up partway through. He seems to have gone back to his time as a soldier, addressing his remarks to Kari, talking about finding the baby, cold in the snow. Yes lass, Liland's a good name. A fine name.

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...There's been a lot of rumors that Liland isn't Tam's son. That his mother must have been a whore.

Being possibly fully adopted feels - less fraught, and Liland's always known his dad is a good man. 

He talks to his dad as they walk, voice soothing, his heart aching and desperate - tells him that Liland's grown up just fine, that they're the best parents he could ever ask for...

The village is so very, very far.

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The village also, apparently, was set on fire at some point during the night. Or at least, there a wisps of smoke still rising as Liland clears the treeline.

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...He hopes there's anyone still alive, then. 

Liland trudges on, more cautiously in case of monsters still in the village.

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"Liland?" Mat intercepts him as he reaches the edge of the village. "You're alive, what happened-"

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" - Monsters attacked, dad's hurt."

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"Same thing happened here, yeah. The Wisdom's at the inn, we should get your dad there."

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No time to waste.

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No, there isn't.

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The Wisdom takes one look at Tam, presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Liland. There's nothing I can do for him."

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" - There has to be - and if you can't, who can?"

(His dad needs to get better, needs to survive, there's nothing Liland wants more right now.)

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"Perhaps I might be of assistance," says a voice from behind him. (The Wisdom scowls.)

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"Please."

He turns. 

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"Then give her room, sheepherder," says a hard-faced man wearing a cloak of shifting color that seems to blend seamlessly into the background.

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He gets the travois unhooked from Bela and clicks his tongue so she'll walk forward a bit. 

Then: "I can carry him inside if you need."

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"A moment," she says, kneeling down next to Tam, hands splayed out over his chest.

"His wound is poisoned. Take him upstairs, I will do what I can."

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...He does so. 

"How did you know it's poisoned?"

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"It is called Delving. A weave of the One Power."

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" - Are you an Aes Sedai?" Liland reaches the bottom of the stairs and starts gently drawing his father up them. 

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"I am."

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Tight nod. 

"Thank you. For helping."

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"I could hardly not."

"You are the al'Thors, are you not? Liland?"

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"Yeah. This's my dad. Tam."

(Liland had grabbed Tam's sword when leaving, too. It was a very good stick for keeping his father straight on the travois. He gets them to the top of the stairs, into a room, and begins untying his father, setting the sheathed sword aside as he does so.)

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"You were not in the village. What happened?"

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"...Our farm was attacked by monsters. Dad fought them. I - tried to help, but I couldn't do much, so I hid and - came back, when they left."

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"Trollocs only? The beast-headed men."

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" - I think so. Or - that's all I saw. They were - really dumb and didn't have any leaders or anything, like one of them tripped into another and then they just started fighting each other."

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"How many?"

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"It looked like a lot - somewhere between a dozen and a dozen and a half?"

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"That makes a full fist at least, Eloise," he says to the Aes Sedai.

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"I know, Lan," she responds as she moves over to Tam's bedside.

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He gets out of her way, though he still hovers near the bed. 

"What does that mean?"

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"It means we cannot stay here. The halfman did not show itself, so it will eventually regroup the survivors. And one fist, passing unseen this far from the Borderlands? I do not believe it. There will be more; the Shadow did not spend this effort on so paltry a force."

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"What are they even here for?"

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"You, sheepherder. Or one of your friends."

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"What? Why?"

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"Because you may be a threat. A moment of quiet, please, I need to concentrate."

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He backs off.

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She kneels by the bedside and-

-doesn't appear to do anything. But Tam's wound becomes less blackened and rotted around the edges, and even begins to close a little. His breath evens out, and he drops off into sleep.

Eloise is a little unsteady, standing up.

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Lan catches her by the elbow and helps her stand.

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"Can I help?" He edges closer to his dad. 

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"The Wisdom should be able to help him from here. I've cleaned out the poison and staunched his internal bleeding."

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"Thank you."

 

"If the monsters were after me and my friends - will they come back here if we stay?"

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"They will."

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"Will they follow if we leave?"

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"I hesitate to say that I hope they will, but I suspect so. They are here for a purpose, not for sport."

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"Will they leave the village alone?"

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"If you leave."

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"How sure are you?"

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"Enough to wager my life on it."

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"...I need to think. But - I can't fight. But I can play bait just fine, so."

"Which of my friends might they be after? And why us?"

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"You, Matrim Cauthon, and perhaps young Katwyn. You are all the same age, born within weeks of each other."

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"Why does that matter?"

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"Because the only clue anyone has to the Reborn Dragon's identity is the approximate date of his birth."

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" - Wouldn't a lot of babies be born in that time - and how would anyone actually tell?"

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"Many and more. That you have survived this long speaks to that, not only the Two Rivers' isolation."

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"So you think it's us for - other reasons - or everyone our age is being picked off."

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"Some of both, in fact."

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He is So Concerned.

" - I still need to think. And talk to them. And - make sure dad recovers."

 

"What else makes you think it's one of us?"

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"I've been tracking candidates for twenty years. You are the last."

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"You can rule people out?"

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"The window of time in question is not that large. And there are- other signs that mark the Dragon."

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"Like what?"

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"More than I could describe in a short conversation."

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Uh huh.

"Do you intend for us to go with you?"

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"If you'd rather die in a Trolloc cookpot, sheepherder, you're welcome to."

"You need to sit down," he says to Eloise.

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"I don't want to. But that doesn't just - mean you'll definitely protect us."

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"If we fail to, Liland, the world will end."

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"Enough, Eloise. Downstairs."

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"Very well. Lead on."

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And Liland sits by his father to think. 

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A little bit later, Mat knocks on the doorframe. He has the Wisdom with him, who shoulders past and begins checking over Tam.

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Liland steps aside and up to Mat.

"How's everything going out there?"

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"Mostly recovering. The Congars showed up piled into their wagon asking where the festival was. Like they they couldn't see the smoldering ashes."

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"Ugh."

"Did anyone die?"

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"A couple people, yeah." Mat gives the names.

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"Shit."

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"Would've been worse if that Aes Sedai and her Warder weren't here. They killed a lot of Trollocs."

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Nod.

"They won't be sticking around, though."

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"Did you get the 'we must leave for the good of the town and also possibly the world' speech too?"

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"Yeah. So she talked to you already?"

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"Yep."

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"Do you think she's right?"

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"Dunno."

"But we've always talked about leaving, haven't we? Seeing the world, like your dad. This could be our chance, if nothing else."

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"And even if only some of them follow us - it's less pressure on the village here."

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"Even some is probably going to be too many to fight off here again."

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"It will."

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"What do you think about- the whole thing?"

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"It's plausible."

The Trollocs spontaneously attacking each other in a comedy of errors - right after he decided he wanted them to - wasn't. 

"And even if it's false - she thinks it's true. Which means others will, and we'll be targets no matter what."

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"Here's to adventure, then?"

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"Here's to adventure."

"And there's no way Kat won't tag along, too."

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"Especially with the crush she's got on the Aes Sedai."

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He laughs.

"Why am I not surprised..."

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"I'm gonna guess because you've met Katwyn once."

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"Perhaps even twice."

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"She's not exactly subtle about it."

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"Not about much of anything."

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"Part of her charm."

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"Then she's going to get the Aes Sedai crushing right back."

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"I'd almost pay money to see that."

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"Part of the adventure."

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"It'll be fun."

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"In between all the running for our lives."

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"Well. You know. Call it an exercise program or something."

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"A bonding experience."

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"Yeah, sure."

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"Kat will back me up."

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"I bet she will."

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He laughs a little. "Though she'll probably be more focused on bonding with pretty girls."

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"And binding them."

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"She might have a battle on her hands there, with an Aes Sedai."

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"She has been looking a little bored, lately. It's been a long, cold winter."

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"Not many new people to lure in."

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"Yep."

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"We might have to restrain her if we're trying to lay low."

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"I think we should leave that up to her magic prospective-girlfriend."

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"She'll probably take it better."

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"Or the consequences will fall on someone else, at least."

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"Better for us."

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"Yep."

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Grin.

"...Thanks, Mat."

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"No problem, Liland."

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"I need to - I want to wait for my dad to wake up before we leave."

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"The Aes Sedai said she wanted to leave before dark, today."

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"That soon..."

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"Head start on the Trollocs, I guess."

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"...Yeah."

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Shoulder pat.

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"Dad might wake up before then."

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"I wouldn't count on it, Liland," the Wisdom says. "Whatever that woman did, he's healing but deeply asleep. I'm not sure when he'll wake."

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"I don't want to just leave him."

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"You could write a letter, at least," Mat offers.

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"It feels impersonal - but if I have to, yeah. I can."

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"You want to stay up here a little longer?"

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"Yeah. Sit with him."

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"Care for company?"

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Nod. "Yeah. I don't - want to be alone, right now."

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"All right." He'll take a seat next to Liland, then.

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Katwyn, meanwhile, has been helping with organizing supplies and searches and getting people calmed down, following around in the innkeeper's wake and helping where she can.

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Eloise sits at a table in the corner, recovering her strength.

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"Do you need anything? Like water?"

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"Tea, please, if there is any."

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"There should be - we've been running low on some of the spring flower brews, but have plenty of fall teas..." She goes and prepares a pretty big pot, coming back with a teapot and cup set (ones she made during her pottery phase; they're not very refined, and she never got a handle on the fancy colors or glazes, but she could make a clay-tone mama cat pot and kitten cups just fine).

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"Thank you, child."

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Giggle! "It's my pleasure."

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"This is an unusual pot."

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Smug! "That's 'cause I made it, and I'm an unusual girl."

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"A blacksmith and a potter, then."

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"And a tea-brewer, and a cook..."

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"A girl of manifold talent."

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"Very few things I can't do, given time to learn."

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"Impressive."

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Preen!

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She chuckles quietly, and takes a sip of tea.

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She brought a cup and a small plate of bread and cheese for herself, and sits next to Eloise to eat.

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Break time, then.

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Katwyn gets a bit squirmy about sitting in silence, but calms down soon enough if Eloise doesn't address her.

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"This is good tea."

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"Thanks. There's gardens out back we grow some of it in, and one of the farms nearer to the mountains grows a different variety too, and that's a good lightweight thing for them to trade when they come in..." She rambles pretty happily about the provenance of different herbs and flowers and leaves, though notes with some worry that the spring is late this year, and that'll hit the flowers hard - and she's worried about the pollinators with that, a neighbor keeps bees and they'll be struggling pretty soon... And the Trollocs haven't helped one bit, a lot of what they were getting to grow got trampled...

A pause.

Then, in a quiet voice: "Do you know why they attacked?" 

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"I have my suspicions, yes."

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"What are they?"

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Quietly: "They are hunting the Dragon Reborn."

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"And they think he's here?"

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She nods. "And so do I."

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"Who?"

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"If I knew exactly, things would be simpler. As it stands, I know of three candidates. Matrim Cauthon, Liland al'Thor, and yourself."

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"...Oh."

"...I can talk to cats. Dunno if that's the - reason they think it's me."

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"I imagine not. Though that is a very- unique ability."

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"Yeah, I'm pretty unique." She doesn't sound quite as happy as the last time she said something similar.

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"I do not consider that a bad thing."

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"Even if it's in a Dragon kind of way?"

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"Even so. The Dragon is prophesied to be the one capable of saving the world. As one who currently lives in the world, I approve of that."

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"Thought the Aes Sedai don't like - people who aren't them who have the One Power."

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"Channeling the Power without proper training is dangerous, for the channeler as well as those around them. And every male channeler since the Breaking has invariably gone mad. But the Dragon is an exception to many rules. To blindly follow the dictates of tradition without adjustment for changes in circumstance is folly. The past has many lessons to teach, but the present is not the past."

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"But talking to the cats isn't channeling?"

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"It is not a weave I have ever heard of."

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"Would you be able to tell if it was just a weird weave? And - what's a weave?"

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"No one ever channels the entirety of the Power at once. It is divided into two halves, conventionally called female and male based on who can tap into which: saidar and saidin. During channeling, it is separated further into strands we call threads, which can be one of five types. Air, Water, Fire, Earth, and Spirit. These threads must be organized into a specific pattern to achieve an effect; these patterns are called weaves. Speaking with cats or other animals is not an effect I've heard of or indeed closely related to any effects that I have heard of."

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"I'm not like - doing something different than talking? It doesn't feel like there's threads or anything. Just - cats are people and they have a language, even if no one else can understand it."

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"Intriguing."

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"I'm that, too."

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"Very."

"I will be leaving this village today. I would like you to come with me, as well as your friends Mat and Liland."

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Grin. "I'd love to."

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"Excellent."

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"You'll have to tell me about all the interesting places we're going through."

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"As much as I can."

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"There's limits to your knowledge, then?"

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"There are limits to everything."

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"Except to the things we don't know yet."

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"Perhaps."

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"Hopefully so."

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"Indeed."

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Light smile.

Then: "So - head out before night?"

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"That would be best."

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Nod. "I'll want to tell at least Bran and Marin first."

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"Do not spread word too widely, if you can."

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"I won't. And I'll tell them it's secret. But - they took me in, y'know? So they'll worry if I just vanish."

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"I understand. Do as you must."

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"Thanks."

"Need help harassing the boys out the door?"

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"If you have the time."

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"For you? Of course I do."

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"I see I shall have to be careful not to abuse your accommodating nature."

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"Only a little."

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"Noted."

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"Other natures of mine might be more abusable, too."

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"I am sure those will reveal themselves in time."

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"If you're patient and good at looking."

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"Those may be listed as strengths of mine, fortunately."

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"I've been noticing! And you've already found one abusable trait."

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"So I have."

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Giggle! And that's maybe a little blush on her cheeks.

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Cute.

"You should see to your packing, child."

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"Probably, yeah."

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"I will, after all, be with you on the journey."

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Laugh. "I'll be back soon."

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"I will be here."

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Off to pack, then. (And tell Bran and Merrin what's up.)

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Upstairs, a wounded man in a bed stirs.

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"Dad?"

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"Liland?"

Tam's voice is weak and wavery.

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"I'm here - you protected me, we're in the village."

Liland turns a bit. "Mat - get the Wisdom."

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"Be right back."

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Then he turns back to his dad and takes his hand. "Try to stay awake until the Wisdom gets here, 'kay dad?"

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"Aye, lad."

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Squeeze.

Liland's - going to wait for the Wisdom to check on his dad, before he brings up - anything the Aes Sedai said, really.

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The Wisdom brings a bowl of soup up with her. After checking Tam over, she instructs Liland to see Tam drinks it all before falling asleep again and warns him against overstressing him.

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"Yes, ma'am."

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She nods, and leaves the room again.

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He makes sure his dad gets at least some soup in him, then - 

"That foreign woman - she's an Aes Sedai," he says, quietly. "She saved the village, apparently. Healed you."

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"Ahh. Be careful, Liland." He takes a deep breath. "The truth they're telling isn't always the truth you're hearing."

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"Yeah, I've been figuring that."

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"So. What does she want, then?"

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"For me - and Mat and Kat - to leave with her."

"She thinks the Trollocs are after us."

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"Ahhhh. That- No reason for them to be here."

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"I - I think I did something, during the attack."

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"Something? Like what?"

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"I wanted the Trollocs to fight each other. They - did. The way I'd been thinking."

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"Lad... Trollocs are beasts. It doesn't take much for them to fight amongst themselves."

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"No, you - it's not that."

"The exact things I was thinking happened, it's - "

Did he feel weird? His memories are - jumbled, especially of sensory stuff. 

"And she's looking for the Dragon," he says then, voice suddenly low. 

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"Liland..." Tam makes an abortive attempt to reach up to him, then just pats the bedside instead.

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He kneels by the bedside, resting his head near Tam's hand.

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Feeble pat.

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"I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

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"You're a good lad, Liland..."

Tam's starting to fade out again.

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Squeeze. "Because you raised me right, dad," he says, voice quiet.

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"Take m'sword. You'll need it more than me."

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"The Trollocs might come back."

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"Can't hardly swing it with my gut torn open. Take it. Keep your friends safe."

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"I don't know how," he says, but his voice sounds weak.

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"Figure it out, son. You can do it."

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"...I'll try."

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"Good." Pat. "Good. I believe in you."

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"Thanks, dad."

"I'll make you proud."

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Faint smile.

"You already do."

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"Thanks." Squeeze. "I'll return home as soon as I can."

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And Tam is drifting off to sleep again.

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He sits with his dad until he's fully asleep, then picks up his dad's sword and goes to find the Aes Sedai.

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Downstairs, in the inn's common room.

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"Dad woke up," he says. "He's - okay."

"I'm ready."

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"Good. Thank you, Liland."

"Lan is in the stables, you can coordinate whatever baggage you may have with him."

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"Just - dad's sword."

...

"I need a change of clothes."

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Eloise looks him up and down.

"You may be able to fit a set of Lan's things. We do not have time to return to your farm."

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"I don't want to, anyways. Lan's things are - fine."

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"Very well."

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"When are we leaving?"

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"Soon. Within the hour."

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Nod. "I'll meet up with Lan, then."

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Eloise nods.

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To the stables, then.

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"Sheepherder," Lan acknowledges him.

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"Warder," he says, inclining his head a bit. Then: "Lady Alys said you might have clothing that would fit me."

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"I may. You're taller, but not so broad in the shoulder."

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"Thanks." (Liland's taller than everyone, so.)

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"Is that sword all you have?"

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"...Yeah."

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"A heron-mark's not something I expected to see here."

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"It's dad's - and I don't know much about dad's life before he had me... I know he was a soldier, though."

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"No ordinary soldier. The heron is the mark of a blademaster."

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Slow nod.

Then, after a moment: "I'm - not going to be worthy of it. I'm not a - physical fighter."

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"Keep it hidden, then. Too many fools would see it as a challenge."

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Slow nod.

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Lan digs a blanket out of a pack and tosses it to Liland. "Here. Wrap it in this."

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He does so. "Thanks."

"Will you - teach me to at least hold my own in a fight?"

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"I could. If we can outrun the Trollocs."

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Nod.

"I'll do what I can to help with that."

Then, more slowly: "What do you know about - this business with the Dragon?"

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"That there are far too many places ears could be hiding here to talk about things like that, sheepherder."

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Slow nod. "Where's a better place, then?"

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"On the road, once we leave."

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"Alright."

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Which will be soon as Eloise rounds up the other two, and everyone gets situated on a horse.

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They're all familiar enough with farm horses, at least.

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And Liland's a good rider, sitting confidently on Cloud after he helps Kat up onto Bela.

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Mat's not so bad himself, taking up one of his father's horses.

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Then out.

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Liland lets himself drift to nearer the rear of the line as they ride, keeping an eye on his friends.

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The ride is mostly quiet.

They make the Taren river as dusk falls, catching the ferryman just before he retires.

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Lan seems anxious to hurry him along, applying liberal amounts of coin to speed his steps.

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No objections from the various teens (Kat's getting very tired - and Bela's clearly pretty tired still - but she's not going to be the first to admit that, so).

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They're a little more than halfway across when the howling begins. Not wolves, it's too angry to be wolves.

The sound is raw fury, hatred, crawling like thunder over the horizon.

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Yeah that's apparently panicking the horses!

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As well it might.

"Faster," Lan snaps at the ferryman, though he and his men hardly need the encouragement.

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When they reach the far side, Eloise herds everyone off the boat, and while Lan engages the ferrymen in conversation-


-the boat is sucked underwater by an abruptly-formed whirlpool.

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Outrage, when this is noticed!

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Lan passes over another pouch of money, then gets the teens back on their horses.

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Kat for one wouldn't wanna cross back with that howling going.

Bela's dancing under her, and she's anxious too - she's tense waiting for the signal to keep riding.

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Eloise goes around the group, placing a hand on everyone and their horses for a moment apiece. As she does so, they feel their tiredness wash away, ready and fresh to continue riding.

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On then, into the gathering night.