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Chapter Text

The clouds above Thakandar boiled, reflecting the reds and greens of the Shadow Forgers work. In the valley below, the mass of pregnant Trollocs howled and brayed in pain, as the Myrddraal whipped and spat at them to push harder. The Trolloc’s pain meant little to them, all they cared for was more soldiers in the army of the Great Lord of the Dark.
Dea was one of the Myrddraal separating newly born litter from their mothers. His lank, dark hair hung over his eyeless face as he scanned the furry mass of the Trollocs. Whether they had wolves heads or vultures beaks, every Trolloc cowered and flinched back from the Myrddraal. Here more than most places, the gaze of a Fade meant fear, and a swing of his head caused a wave of involuntary retreat, even as they recovered from birthing their litter.
Of the bestial Trollocs, one in twenty of their offspring would be born deformed. These deformed offspring would look more human than the others, and have less animal characteristics. Unless you counted their squirming movements, which closer resembled an eel than any human child. These were the infant Myrddraal, and they were what Deas and his peers were here for.
Stepping carefully to not get any of the birthing fluids on his cloak, Dea searched the litters along with his companions. When Dea found such a hairless child, he batted the other baby Trollocs aside, and nudged young Myrddraal until it started crawling away from them. A small group of the eel-like human babies was already forming away from the Trolloc infants.
The wailing of the spawn was incessant, but one cry caught Dea’s ear after a minute of hearing it. It was more guttural then the others, and Dea realized it was a grown Trolloc. He saw the realization hit some of his peers at a similar time, and they flowed towards the sound as one.
One of the infants was being cradled by it’s Trolloc mother. It held the child protectively in it’s massive arms, the mother’s wolf snout somewhere between a snarl and a whine.
“No, no!” the Trolloc whined. “She’s mine!”
Even the fear inducing stare of the Eyeless couldn’t make the mother separate from this baby, and the closest Myrddraal brandished it’s curved black sword as if to strike it. If anything, this just made the mother hold the welp closer, and screech it’s denials harder. The baby started wailing, not understanding the distress it was causing.
“No!” The Trolloc cried. “Don’t take her! She’s mine!”
Dea felt his hairless eyebrows rise. A Trolloc speaking back to a Myrddraal was rare, but not something to be encouraged. His eyeless gaze left her, and looked over her shoulder the Trollocs behind her. “Pin her down.”
The Trolloc continued screaming as she was pinned to the rocky and slick ground beneath her by her terrified companions. The infant tumbled away from her arms, and hit a boot. Dea followed his gaze up the boot, to the dark brown cloak that led from it, all the way to the flaming eyes in a pitiless face.
“Ba’alzamon!” Dea pleaded, already falling to one knee. This close to Shayol Ghul, Ba’alzamon could appear in corporeal form, but it was rare that he did. On such times, it was important to crawl on your belly, lest you anger the Great Lord of the Dark’s highest representative. Lighting crackled, and a moment later thunder rumbled, as if the landscape itself anticipated the trouble they were in, and was marking the occasion.
“Please, Great One!” the troublesome Trolloc bellowed. From his genuflection, Dea cringed, and hoped he would live long enough to make this Broodmare suffer for her insolence. “Please! She is mine!” she continued.
From the corner of his vision, Dea saw Ba’alzamon pick up the crying infant with surprising gentleness. Fire burned hotter from his eyes and mouth as Ba’alzamon spoke.
“What is your name, child?”
Dea felt himself go stiff with shock, and even stiffer when he realized Ba’alzamon was talking to the Trolloc. It was considered an honour for the Great Lord’s avatar to speak directly to a Myrddraal. It was unheard of for them to address a Trolloc. At least, not in anger.
“Haid, Great One,” the Trolloc managed to gasp out. The weight of her companions must have made it difficult to breath.
“Is this your first litter, Haid?” Ba’alzamon asked mildly. Dea was not fooled. Mildness could turn to rage quicker than a Shienaran crossbow bolt with the Great Lord.
“No, Great One,” Haid panted out, her wolf’s muzzle trying to rise to answer comfortably. “But please; it’s special.”
“I don’t know about special, but it is certainly… unprecedented,” Ba’alzamon finished. It wasn’t mildness, Dea realized. His lord was musing. What made this welp so special?
“You there,” Ba’alzamon spoke sharply, and Dea flinched. He was close enough that Ba’alzamon had indicated to him randomly. Being noticed by the Great Lord could be a fatal mistake. Ignoring them, however, was painful suicide.
“Yes, Great Lord?” He answered, without raising his head. Ba’alzamon laid the infant in front of him.
“I am entrusting you to make this the best Myrddraal you can. Who knows? She might prove useful.”
She? Dea looked at the infant. It had stopped crying. Tiny fists were curled up where her eyes would have been, as she let out an exhausted yawn and stretch. The Great Lord was right; it was a ‘she’. Dea hadn’t even known Myrddraal could be women.
“Raise it with the Trolloc. I suspect you’ll need some support.”
Haid started thanking the Great Lord, but Dea ground his teeth in fury. Already he could feel his peers jeering and laughing at him. He wasn’t sure who he was going to make suffer more; the infant, or the Trolloc.
Ba’alzamon turned, about to leave, before hesitating. As the Trolloc was being let up, he turned back.
“You thought of a name, Haid?”
Haid scrambled to the infant, picking her up and cradling her in her arms again.
“Oni, Great One.” Haid replied, whilst snuffling at the babe. “I will call her Oni.”
Dea suppressed his snort of derision. ‘Oni’ was the Trolloc word for ‘singular’, or ‘solitary’. Dea hoped Oni hadn’t inherited her mother’s mistaken sense of poetry

***

“They hate us,” Oni rasped in dismay. Her dark hair hung over her eyeless face, making her look even more vulnerable and small. Haid tried to make soothing noises towards the fifteen year old child, but those noises didn’t come comfortably from a wolf’s muzzle.
They were hidden in a damp cave, far from Thakandar. Without Ba’alzamon protection, the other Myrddraal and Trollocs turned on them in jealousy and spite. They couldn’t be killed, that would not be permitted. But that didn’t mean the army of the Great Lord couldn’t make them suffer.
“Even the Great Lord hates us!” Oni’s tone turned plaintive. “We can all feel it! We can tell. Why do we fight for him, when he despises us so?”
Haid’s soothing noises turn to panicked shushes. She couldn’t help herself.
“Don’t say that, Oni,” Haid said softly, but urgently. Even here, where they had hidden from the rest of the Myrddraal and Trollocs, such words could be lethal.
As predicted, from the shadows slithered Dea, the set of his shoulders already showing his fury. It was still a measure of relief that it was him. Anyone else and knowledge of Oni’s blasphemy might be heard.
“You think you suffer now?” Dea hissed out. “You think because you are beaten and hounded here, you think you have it hard?”
Haid cringed away from the Myrddraal, but Oni raised her chin defiantly to her tutor.
“I grow tired of your insolence. I brought something to show you why we fight.”
Sweeping toward the cave mouth, Dea was gone for only a moment. He returned with a woman stumbling in front of him. She had once been important, Haid guessed, judging from her fancy dress. But now her clothes were dirty and ragged, and her face showed the bruises of many beatings. Shoving the woman to her knees, Dea brought a whip from inside his cloak, threatening the woman with it.
“Tell her who you are.” Dea snapped.
The woman looked far from cowed. She glared over her shoulder at the Myrddraal, and Haid almost thought she wouldn’t speak. When she did, it wasn’t to Haid and Oni.
“If it weren’t for the fork root, you would be burning, Half man.”
Dea’s whip flashed out, and the woman flinched as it scored a welt across her back.
“Tell them!”
“My name is Aleadra Sedai,” the woman said through gritted teeth.
Dea moved, and handed Oni the whip. “Make her tell you your robe is red,” Dea told Oni. Oni looked at him in confusion.
“I can’t tell you your robe is red. Your robe is black, and I cannot lie,” Aleadra said quickly.
“She is right. But I want you to know for certain. Try to make her.”
Oni looked from the whip to the woman kneeling in front of her. “I believe her. We don’t need to…” Dea’s scoff interrupted her.
“You wish to show mercy to her? Fine. Ask her how many Myrddraal or Trollocs are kept prisoner outside of the Blight.”
Both Oni and Aleadra gave him uncomprehending looks, but Haid’s heart sank. She already knew what lesson this was.
“There are no Myrddraal or Trolloc prisoners kept, that I know of. Why would there be?”
Dea nodded, pausing dramatically before asking his next question.
“So what does happen to a Trolloc or Myrddraal that is found outside the Blight?”
“Well…,” Aleadra said slowly. She didn’t seem to like the answer she had. “They are killed.”
“On sight? No negotiation, no mercy?”
Rolled her eyes before she responded. “When has Shadow spawn ever given us mercy?”
“Seconds ago,” Oni whispered. Aleadra’s eyes whipped to the small Myrddraal. To her credit, she looked abashed.
“Some of your sisters know Trolloc script. How did they learn it?” Deas started pacing behind the Aes Sedai.
Aleadra looked like she didn’t want to answer. “On occasion, when we find a Trolloc writing script on our walls, we make them tell us what the script says.”
“Make them?” Deas asked.
Aleadra didn’t answer. She looked at the ground of the cave.
“What about the animals of your lands? What happens when a wolf catches the smell of a Myrddraal?”
Aleandra looked at him in shock. “How can you blame us for that?!”
“What happens?” he snapped, and flourished his whip. It snapped with a small bolt of lightning.
“They eat you!” Aleadra shrieked in response. She had tried to hide her flinching, but her voice still shook as she answered. “They chase you down and tear you apart, even if it costs them the whole pack. And I’m not sorry. Your kind are an abomination!”
“Who created us?” Deas voice hissed out softly. Aleandra blinked in surprise.
“The Forsaken, Aginor. Did you not know?” Aleandra seemed genuinely surprised by the question.
“So, a human.” Deas responded, flatly. Aleandra’s look of confusion deepened.
“For your master….”
“That’s what you think. But what we hear… we were first created to fight the Dark One. It was only once the Trollocs proved too hard to control that the decision was made to… fix your mistake.”
Deas stopped pacing, and turned towards Oni.
“You think you are treated harshly here, but you would be hunted like a dog anywhere else. Never forget this, child.”
“Child, listen to me,” Aleandra said urgently, turning to face Oni. “If you are serious about absolution, I know there is a way. I don’t know what it would look like, but one thing I am certain of is no-one is so far gone to the Shadow that they can’t walk back to the li…”
She was interrupted as Deas flashed his sword out of his free hand, and with a single swipe cut off the Aes Sedai’s head. It tumbled to the floor, and stared up at Oni from Haid’s feet.
“There’s a saying you should know from your precious human’s world.” Deas hissed as he cleaned the blood off his sword with his cloak. “’The truth an Aes Sedai speaks is not the truth you might hear’. She would have said anything to save her skin.”
He put his sword away, and looked Oni straight into her non-eyes.
“Yes, the Great Lord hates us. He hates us because we haven’t killed his enemies. Our enemies. He values only those who will help themselves, and for three thousand years we have fallen short.” He pointed at Haid. “The Trollocs know this. They torment anything weaker than them, because they know their creator hates them. They might not understand it, but that’s why they do it.”
Haid understood well enough. Trollocs couldn’t speak as well as Myrddraal, and Myrddraal often took that to mean they couldn’t understand. Haid knew she wasn’t as stupid as Deas thought she was. But she also knew Deas was right about the Great Lord’s hate. It made her heart heavy as stone.
“Here,” Deas said, handing Oni a dull stone knife, about the size of her hand. “Come with me. I want to see how you do against a grief mad warder.”
It was much later that Oni returned, battered and bruised from Deas’s lesson. Haid waited until Deas was gone, and Oni was getting ready to sleep before she made her move. Shushing her quiet, Haid snuck out of the cave, leading Oni with her. Once they were out, she bade her run. Oni was used to running with her. They had hidden from the rest of Thakandar for years in this way. But she knew that this time, Oni had to run further.
In the ruins of a city the Blight had taken over, Haid found what she had been looking for. It was a stone worked door, made to look like a spreading plant. Haid had heard the Myrddraal discussing it, had heard their work on it. In the light of predawn, she fumbled at the stone work, trying to find the thing the Myrddraal had described.
“Haid?” Oni asked. She had been asking too many questions for a while now. Haid ignored her, and kept scrambling her paws around the stone work. Finally she found it. She pressed the leaf, and the stonework door shifted, becoming a dirty mirror.
“Haid?” Oni said at her shoulder. She must have seen what Haid had done. Please, let her have seen it. Haid grabbed Oni’s shoulder, brought her in front of the filthy mirror.
“Run, Oni. Run and hide, and keep hiding!” Haid whispered intently into Oni’s ear. And then she pushed her child, her special child, through the Waygate, knowing she would never she her again. The last she heard was Oni screaming her name.

***

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind howled through the alleys of Katar. The wind wasn't the beginning, the are no beginnings to the weaving of the wheel. But it was a beginning.

As the wind raced through the alleyways it seems to ignore the hunched and hooded figure that toiled in the slop outside the Silver Bow Inn. An astute observer would have noticed that the wind didn't move the cloak around the figure, no matter how hard it blowed. The young woman who called her Oni ignored the slop, the wind, and any possible observers. None of them would matter to her.
Despite it's name, the Silver Bow Inn had the reputation for being one of the worst hells inside Katar, maybe even all of Arad Doman. It was in this place that Oni had found employment, as the only person who would stomach the run-off and entrails that the Silver Bow created. The pigs they kept in the back stank, but it was as nothing to the rot and decay of the Blight.
It was exactly this sort of work that Oni had managed to find in this poor section of Katar. She also dug the mass graves in the grave yard, as well as cleaning the drainage of the midden. Each job pad very little, but it was enough, and it kept Oni hidden. No-one would wonder why they felt unease in her presence if they could chalk it up to the way she smelt, or the job she did.
Slop splattered at her blindfold as she worked, and Oni told herself she was grateful for it. It would give the townsfolk another reason to avoid looking at her face, at the lack of eyes behind the blindfold. She brushed a bit of the slop of her cheek, accidentally getting some in the dark hair that fell in front of her. She was about to sigh, when she heard voices.
“You shouldn’t have stopped serving me,” a man slurred. Another voice, a woman’s, was making apologetic noises. They were coming from the alley way between the hell and another coach house. The woman’s voice was starting to sound desperate, and Oni could hear scuffling.
“You’re going to regret embarrassing me like that, girl,” that slurred voice said again. Oni recognized that bullying tone, and she hated it. Twilight was starting to fall, casting shadows for any Myrddraal to step through, one of gifts that allowed Oni her escape. Stepping into it now, she appeared in the alleyway the noises were coming from.
A bulky man in a towns-guard uniform had grabbed the wrist of one of the serving girls of the hell. The slim young woman looked barely old enough to be considered a woman, and fear painted her face. The man had drawn back his fist, which seemed the same size as the woman’s head.
“Let her go,” Oni rasped out. The shadows hid her, so she stepped a little closer into the light, so they could see who it was.
The town-guard gave a start, and stepped away from the serving girl reflexively, his hands coming up in fists to defend himself. Fear painted his face, and he looked surprised to be this afraid. Even the serving girl looked terrified. It was the first time Oni had looked directly at a human in weeks, and it had probably been even longer since she had spoken. The towns-guard tried to shake off the fear that was her eyeless gaze, another gift of the Myrddraal.
“You get away, you,” he sneered with false bravado, although his voice shook as he did. “I’m not above giving a child a drubbing.” Oni could practically see him telling himself he shouldn’t be afraid of this little girl, and gathering his bravery up.
“Give me a drubbing,” she sneered right back at him. “I’ve killed things that would keep you as a pet. Leave now, before I lose my patience.”
“I’m a towns guard of Katar!” The man said with pompous authority in his voice, although the look of wild panic in his eyes gave him away. “You think you scare me?”
“No, but she will tell everyone what you did here,” the serving girl said plaintively. “Please, we will forget everything that happened, just go!” She pleaded.
The memory of every Trolloc or Myrddraal that had wanted to scare her into obedience flashed in her memory, and the fear of the Dark One fled. She would not allow this man to go unpunished, even if it did risk exposing her. She stepped closer to him.
“Oh, he’s not going anywhere," Oni interrupted. "Not without a penance.”
Maybe his fear finally won out, maybe he convinced himself not to be afraid. Maybe having Oni actually threaten him was his breaking point. Whatever it was, he decided in that moment to swing his fists at Oni.
Oni supposed he was fast for a human, but that made him painfully slow to a Myrddraal. She amused herself a bit, letting him try to hit her. She barely had to lean to avoid his fists, and she paused whenever possible to give him a mirthless smile. She let him continue as the look of panic started to grow, and just when she was sure he was going to cry out for help, she flashed out with her hand.
The towns guard fell onto the wall of the alleyway, clutching at his cheek. When he pulled his hand away to look at his hand, Oni could see the four claw marks she had left from jaw to eye. They may have been light scratches, but Oni knew would feel like fire. He would carry those scratches as scars for the rest of his life.
“Now leave. Have fun telling your friends you lost a fight to blind beggar girl.” Oni spat. She saw the town guard look at her in disbelief, his hand shaking close to his face. Then he started running. Oni watched in grim satisfaction. It had been a stupid risk, but she couldn’t make herself feel bad about it.
“That…” the serving girl said slowly, “… was amazing!”
Oni almost looked over her shoulder at her, before catching herself. The surprise cut through her wrath. She hadn’t expected the gratitude in the serving girl’s voice.
“I… it was less than he deserved. I don’t like bullies.” Oni stammered out.
“I can tell! Thank you, I didn’t ever think anyone would… Thank you, uh…”.
There was an odd silence. Oni had an impression that the serving girl was waiting for her to do something.
“My name is Sef.” The serving girl stated. She seemed to think that explained something. Oni risked a glance her way. She still looked afraid, but she looked like she was trying to push through that fear.
“Hello, Sef.” Oni replied in her rasping voice. The awkward silence returned. Oni couldn’t understand why Sef hadn’t run away already. Even now, she was just standing there expectantly. After about a minute of silence, Sef continued.
“You know, it’s embarrassing to admit, and I’ve seen you around the Kelser borough, so many of us have, even whilst you were working here I would have thought I already knew your name, but….” Sef trailed off.
Oni turned back to look where the town’s guard had run off, trying to hide her confusion. “Why should you? I don’t think I’ve told my name to anyone here.” Again that awkward silence. What did this fool girl want?
“Will you tell me?” Sef asked in a very timid voice.
That caused Oni to turn around in surprise, and look Sef straight in the face. The other woman took half a step back before she could stop herself. She was young, about Oni’s age, but with a much more ample bosom, and blonde hair that hung in waves. Her tan tavern dress clung to her in the fashion of the Domani, but was cut to show far more flesh than any other Domani dress Oni had seen. Wearing something like that was suicide in a hell, but Oni suspected it was a requirement of the landlord.
“Oni,” she heard herself say, before she thought any better of it. The fear in Sef’s face faded, and a smile started at her face. Before it finished, Oni darted away, out the alleyway, back into her slop.
The next day, as she finished clearing out the pigsty of the Silver Bow, she found a parcel, neatly wrapped up, with her name scribbled on it in chalk. Inside was a simple bacon sandwich. As Oni picked it up, she heard a stumbling at the window, and looked up in time to see Sef hiding from the windowsill.
Oni mused over whether she should leave or not. Giving her name to Sef had been a mistake; all it would take was her sharing it with the wrong person, and the Dark One could find her. Once that happened, it was only a matter of time before Oni would be chased down by his minions and used as an… example. She bit into the sandwich, thinking about which horrors she would experience first at the hands of her old caretakers.
That thought vanished as she tasted the bacon. It was better than anything she had ever eaten before. She wolfed down the sandwich, unable to keep the moans of pleasure from escaping her throat, and licked her lips fingers to get the left over grease. Sef is no Dark friend. She seems trustworthy, Oni thought to herself. And what harm can one friend be, anyway?

***

Chapter Text

“Can you make today’s sandwich with cheese instead of bacon?” Sef asked the cook. Busy as they were in the kitchen, Ellie froze when Sef asked for their daily sandwich. Sef knew she would; she always did.

“You shouldn’t be feeding that girl, Sef,” Ellie whispered, her perpetual frightened expression becoming somehow more pronounced. “She’s unnatural.”

“El, it’s been a year,” Sef replied. “Are you still this set against her?”

The fat cook’s jowel waddled as she shook her head in disbelief at the youth of today, but she still pulled out some bread and a chopping board. “She’s not right. Iram shouldn’t have her clean out the pigsty’s, either. She’s… she’s just not right.”

“She’s a bit odd, but she no danger,” Sef lied smoothly. She had seen enough to know that Oni was indeed one of the most dangerous people she was ever likely to meet, but she didn’t think mentioning this would help calm Ellie down.

She might not like Oni, but Ellie still made her a decent sandwich, with cheese and pickles in generous proportions, as Sef had known she would. She suspected Ellie would always make Oni’s sandwiches to the best of her abilities, even if her hands shook whilst she did.

Sef smiled brilliantly at Ellie as she took the sandwich, and got a restrained nod and a half smile back, which was Ellie’s version of a warm embrace. The poor cook had worked too long in a hell, and seemed to be constantly looking for the next bit of danger. But she knew the cook would make the sandwich, if not for Oni then she would make it because Sef had asked. Ellie had always been very fond of Sef.

Sef thought about mentioning that the most dangerous customers hadn’t been coming for a while, and if anything their clientele had been increasingly more well off and generous. They were in danger of no longer being a hell, and instead being just a regular inn. She suspected she knew what had convinced their most troublesome regulars to start visiting other inns, however, and decided that wouldn’t put Ellie’s mind at ease.

Something in the cook’s attitude still mildly irked her, but she knew she was defensive of Oni. Her friend might be a bit scary, but Sef had always liked scary things. When the gleemen would call out for requests, Sef would roll her eyes at all the tales of heroics and Legends and , and would instead call out for the dark stories; stories of the Forsaken, or the Trolloc Wars. Stories that weren’t told in the good inns. Maybe I should ask Oni to stop scaring all our worst regulars away.

Once her afternoon shift had ended, she made her way to the pigsty, swinging her knapsack with her sandwiches. Oni was still working the shovel away at the slop, and continued working until Sef stood by her side, knapsack held in her lap. She waited for Oni to stop.

“You don’t need to eat with me. Just leave the sandwich, and go away,” Oni said without looking her way. Her lank, dark hair hung over Oni’s blindfold, partially obscuring her face.

“I’ve learned to ignore this peculiar greeting of your’s, Oni. Come sit with me; it’s dinnertime.”

Oni made a noise that wasn’t quite a hiss, then she threw her shovel down into the mud. Experience had taught them both that Sef was the more patient of the two, and she would just wait out Oni until she joined her. Together they made their way to the pig’s fence. Sef felt a little smug as having once again won over Oni. She couldn’t stop the extra swing in her knapsack and step as she made her way.

“One bacon sandwich for me, and one cheese sandwich for you,” Sef stated simply, as she handed Oni her sandwich and leaned against the fence. Oni climbed onto the fence and hunch protectively over her food, still not acknowledging Sef’s presence. “I thought you loved the bacon sandwiches? Why did you ask for cheese instead?”

Oni bit into her food hungrily, but without the enthusiasm she usually displayed. “Reminds me too much of the food back home.” Oni muttered with a mouth half full. She nodded towards the pigs. “I don’t see why they have to suffer for me to eat.”

“Aww, what a softie you are…,” Sef teased. “I wonder if that man who followed me half way home yesterday would have run quite so fast if he had heard you say this. It was you that frightened him off, right?” She playfully elbowed Oni’s ribs. Oni took another bite, but Sef wasn’t fooled. She was trying to avoid the question.

“You shouldn’t go around, dressed like that,” gestured up and down Sef’s dress. “It makes you vulnerable. You should at least wear a cloak over that almost dress your boss insists on putting you in.”

“And who’s going to dare make trouble for me?” Sef teased back. She was pretty confident she had made Oni blush, and was going to push her advantage now. It was rare to get Oni unbalanced. “I have you to protect me. My brave saviour,” She grinned. Oni was definitely blushed now. “My own guardian warder.”

Something in Oni’s posture changed, and she didn’t look embarrassed anymore. She just looked bone deep sad. It was hard to tell, as Oni refused to look in Sef’s direction.

“Please don’t call me a warder, Sef.” Oni whispered.

“Of course, Oni. Sorry,” Sef replied, trying to hide her shock. If Oni blushing was rare, having Oni sad was unheard of. Glimpses into her dark friend’s past were even more precious, and they often came with sharp words, threats, or sometime simply hisses. “Did you know a warder?” Sef asked, feeling she had to take a chance when she could. 

Oni was shaking her head, though. “Only briefly,” she said, finishing off her meal.

Sef wasn’t going to be put off that easily. “I’ve heard their all very valiant…”

“Maybe he was, but not when I knew him. He was… angry, I guess. In pain seems more accurate. He’d lost someone close to him, as I understand. Made him lash out, and prone to stupid mistakes,” Oni mused. Then she barked a laugh. “Tenacious, though. I remember thinking nothing could stop him, no power in the world.”

 Sef nodded to herself, ferreting away this piece of information of Oni’s like a squirrel with a prized nut.

“It’s okay to miss him.” Sef reassured. Oni’s head whipped round to look at her in a mixture of shock and bafflement. Even now, Oni’s direct look caused a thrill of fear in her, although she was getting better at handling it after the initial shock.

“I don’t miss him,” Oni said in near outrage, but Sef wasn’t fooled. Oni was as stubborn as any man Sef had known, and just as likely to pretend she wasn’t in pain.

“Of course,” Sef replied soothingly. She could feel Oni bristle, and knew she had pushed her enough for today. She moved on to talk about her day, knowing that Oni would pretend not to listen. She made sure she was careful what she spoke about, however. She didn’t want Oni scaring away too many more of the troublesome customers.

She still enjoyed her conversations with Oni. Behind her fear, Sef experienced a certainty that anything she said would be kept private, and that  she wouldn’t be judged. As she continued telling Oni about her day, she looked out over the skyline, and felt the warmth of her company.

***

The sun was setting before Sef stopped talking at her. Oni had made no reply since she started, just stared off into the top of the cityscape. The pigsty might smell, but it still gave her a nice view of the buildings and spires of Katar. She felt irritated that she couldn’t enjoy it in peace and quiet, but the only thing worse than having Sef around was not having her around. The one time she hadn’t visited with Oni in the past year had brought her near panic.

She remembered that odd fear she had felt at not seeing her friend. Once she realised Sef wouldn’t be turning up, Oni had stormed into the hell in the small hours of that night, and found only the cook. With a voice shaking so much it made her nearly unintelligible, the cook had told Oni where Sef lived. When Oni visited, she had learnt Sef had been in another run in with one of their regulars. This one had left her with a split lip. Oni had made sure Sef didn’t see her; she would never hear the end of it, otherwise. That had been the first of Sef’s regulars to go.

It sounded like things were getting better in her work, however. Oni was pleased. She running out of places to hide the bodies. The small blonde woman was gathering up her things, and getting ready to go. Oni studiously ignored her as she did. She didn't want Sef to think she cared. Which is how Sef could land a quick kiss goodbye onto her cheek before Oni could react.

She looked at Sef in shock before she could stop herself. For a second, Sef’s blonde hair covered her face like a veil, almost hiding her blushes. Then her chin rose, and her composure returned.

“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” Sef said, in an oddly formal voice. Then she moved past Oni with her back upright and her head held high, as if nothing had happened.   

Oni scrubbed at her cheek, and counted to fifty in her head. Once she was sure Sef couldn’t see her, she launched herself into the rooftop of the hell, keeping her body close to the rooftiles as she scurried. From there, she jumped rooftop to rooftop, always keeping herself out of sight, until she found Sef again.

She still wasn’t wearing a cloak, the fool girl. Just that clinging low cut dress that she worked in. Oni ground her teeth. Why would this woman not take any steps to look after herself! This was one of the most dangerous quarters of Katar. Sef knew that. If any unsavoury looking men made their way close to Sef they received the full might of Oni’s glare. They might not know why they were suddenly shaking in fear, but they wanted it to stop. She kept glaring until they backed away from Sef.

 She was almost caught once Sef had arrived home. Sef had taken a moment to pause at the door, and then calmly turned to look out at the skyline. Oni had to quickly hide behind a chimney, and stayed there until she heard the door close. She cursed herself for being stupid; Sef had as much as told her she knew Oni was protecting her. Oni would have to take more care to make sure she wasn’t spotted from now on.

As she scampered across the rooftiles she heard Sef’s window open. She refused to look back, even when she heard Sef’s voice cry out a friendly “Goodbye, Oni!”. She told herself she didn’t have anything to worry about; Sef couldn’t prove it was Oni.

She made her way back to her hidey hole. She had never been sure what the abandoned warehouse had held before, nor did she care. Whoever owned it had left it to rot, and so a section of the roof had collapsed, which was perfect for Oni's needs. She clambered in through the hole, and made herself comfortable in the straw pile that was he bed. She tried to ignore her cheek, which burned where Sef had kissed it. It made sleeping difficult. Thoughts of Sef kept intruding into her head, no matter how viciously she pushed them out. 

Chapter Text

It was a few hours after full night had set that Oni decided she wasn’t likely to get any sleep this evening. Myrddraal are night time creatures anyway, she thought to herself, testily. It’s not like I am being kept up by feelings of wild and unacknowledged desire, like some fool gleeman’s poetry!

Oni snorted. She had remembered that phrase from hearing a gleeman perform in one of the better inns, whilst she skulked in the beams. It was a phrase stupid enough to stick in your head forever. She had even spied Sef in the crowd, laughing to herself at that ridiculous phrase. The memory threatened to bring a smile to Oni’s face, and so she banished it furiously.

She clambered out the hole in the roof and sat on the rooftiles, looking out at the cityscape. No matter how hard life was, looking at the city these humans had built always brought Oni a measure of peace. She wasn’t sure if it was the spires, or the domes, and or red tiled roofs, but it brought a sense of security and beauty. She hugged her knees as she relished the feeling.

She had heard tales of Ogier stonework that was supposed to be even better than what the humans had made. The idea that these were just pale imitations made Oni shake her head whenever she considered it, but she was happy just admiring the human architecture. Where there was Ogier stonework, there was a higher risk of Ogier. The blight was full of horror stories about the Ogier, and Oni wasn’t keen to see which ones were true.

 She was so lost in admiring the view that at first she didn’t realise what the sounds she could hear were. Once she realized they were coming from inside the warehouse, she turned to lay flat against the rooftiles. She risked peering into the warehouse from her vantage point, hoping her little hidey hole hadn’t been discovered.

She shouldn’t have worried. It was a cluster of men, and they were paying no attention to their surroundings. One of the men was dressed in clothes that had once been fine and grand, but looked to have been brought out of storage. It was frayed at the lace edges, and although Oni’s non-eyes couldn’t see colour very well, they still seemed dull. The other men were in the attire of the Town Guards of Katar.

Oni felt a flush of recognition when she saw one of the men had scarring across his cheek. That’s the guy that was harassing Sef!, she realized. She briefly considered making them ‘disappear’. On the one hand, Oni had made Sef’s regulars disappear for similar crimes. If a man could justify beating a helpless girl whilst in a position of authority, they were capable of other evils. None of his friends would be out this late, in this squalid a neighbourhood if they were up to any good.

On the other hand, if five people disappeared there would be an investigation, especially if there were Towns Guards and a noble involved. Besides, someone being almost certainly evil didn’t mean they were definitely evil. She knew the law in Arad Doman; innocent until proven guilty. That phrase had meant a lot to her when she had heard it.

Whilst she was struggling with the ethical nuances of her position, one of the Town Guards stabbed the merchant in the back. Oni was so shocked, she froze in place. As the merchant turned to the Town’s Guard in shock, another sliced him from behind, scarring up his back. The third guard sliced at his leg, and the Merchant fell to the ground.

Well, nothing for it now. There will definitely be an investigation, Oni thought to herself. She slipped inside, curious at least to why this had happened, but making sure she stayed hidden. One of the guards dropped a coin purse onto the merchant, and together they all made their way to the door. Just as they were about to go, one of them turned back to the body.

“Hold on, I dropped my knife. Don’t want it to be tracked to me. Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

The others jeered, but made their way outside. The one who had turned back was the very one Oni had scratched, all those years back. Oni couldn’t see any knife on the ground, and when the scarred man knelt by the body, he didn’t look for anything on the ground. Checking over his shoulder that the others had gone, he picked up the coin purse that had been left.

Rummaging around inside, he brought out two coins, and dropped them onto the body, pocketing the full coin purse into his inside coat pocket. After a moments consideration, he picked up one of the coins and pocketed that as well, and turned towards the door. Once he was gone, Oni made her way to look at the coin. It displayed a woman, holding a flame in her hand.

What the blood and ashes is happening here?

***

“What do you mean, you aren’t going to tell anyone?” Sef exasperated.

Oni paused in her shovelling of scum long enough to shrug.

“Oni, I don’t think you understand,” Sef said, trying for a reasonable tone she absolutely did not feel. “The rumours are that the merchant got killed for his dealings with the Aes Sedai. They think a warder did this! There’s been more and more talk about bringing in the Whitecloaks,” she finished in a whisper. A lot of the regulars of the hell were fond of the whitecloaks. More than a few fights had broken out for using that name, instead of their pretentious ‘Children of the Light’ name, and she didn’t want to risk being overheard. “Do you really want more of them in Katar?”

Oni’s face grew bemused. “Why would that possibly matter to me? I’m not a darkfriend, or an Aes Sedai.”

It was so crazy to Sef that Oni wouldn’t be concerned by this, Sef didn't even know how to respond. Did she not KNOW the whitecloaks?

“Oni, listen to me very carefully.” Sef said patiently, taking her hand. Oni gave Sef’s hand such a suspicious look Sef could see it through the blindfold, but she pressed on. “These people, it takes less than nothing for them to whip up a mob. I don’t know how you are able to do half the things you do, and I promise, I don’t want too. I don’t! Please, just listen…” Oni was already starting to pull back her hand.

“I don’t care. You know I don't. But they will. And just this small amount of strangeness,” Sef snapped her fingers. “That’s how quick they will kill you.”

Oni, burn the stubborn wool-headed mule, didn’t seem frightened in the least. If anything she looked like Sef had said something hilarious. Sef took a moment to grind her teeth, and not slap some sense into her friend.

“I know you think you can protect us from anything, Oni. But even you can’t defeat an entire mob.”

Something in her tone must have got through because Oni finally looked abashed.

“It’s not that Sef. It’s just…” the darker woman sighed. “If it’s Children of the Light, or Aes Sedai, or even the Town Guards… if anyone learnt who and what I really am…” Oni made a cutting gesture across her throat.

It hurt Sef’s heart to hear the certainty in Oni's voice, but she knew better than dispute it. They had this conversation about once a month, and nothing Sef said could convince Oni she wasn’t in the gravest of danger, even if she could never explain why. Oni thought Sef was in danger, just for associating with her. 

“And yes; I can protect us from a mob. This is how I am protecting us. If I tell too many people what I saw, it’ll bring too much attention our way,” Oni went on as she carried on digging out the slop. Sef felt her insides curl with guilt, and Oni must have noticed something, because she immediately paused and gave her a sharp look. A sharp look from Oni was enough to take anyone’s breathe away, and Sef felt her heart beat increase.

“Oni, I had to tell someone…” she started defensively but cut off as they heard a smash coming from inside the hell.

“You stupid…,” Oni hissed, but Sef didn’t stay to hear what else things her friend was going to call her. She was already rushing back towards the hell’s back door. Grabbing at the latch, she swung the door open and rushed inside. She didn’t see Oni, but she was certain the other woman would be at her back, as dependable as her own shadow.

At the centre of the hell, three of the roughest of their regulars held a young man in fancy light green clothes against the main support beam. It looked like the fancy man was struggling to breathe from the pressure they were forcing into him.

“Are you sure…” the fancy man managed to wheezed out “…we can’t discuss this in a civilised manner?”

Chapter Text

A knife stabbed into the support beam, inches from the fancy man’s eye.

“I’ll take that as a no,” the fancy man managed to wheeze out. Then he opened his hand.

From his hand, a dart about the size of a man’s hand fell, with a silk ribbon and rope leading back into the fancy man’s lace sleeve. It fell with a heavy thud onto the foot of one of the men holding him, who yelled out in pain and fell back, clutching his ankle.

Sef didn’t see exactly what happened next, it happened too fast. But somehow the fancy man tumbled out of the grasp of the tow other men, and with an acrobatic movement ended in a clearing of the hell, with that dart being twirled around him. The rope was taller than the man, and in such an enclosed space, that dart threatened anyone and anything close to him, so very soon all of the patrons had backed as far away from him as possible.

“Impressive,” Sef heard Oni whisper to her.

It looked even more like a dance as he twirled the rope-dart this way and that, and Sef could see that the rope was starting to wrap around the man in different ways. As he did, one of the original men who had held him looked emboldened, and readied his knife. The fancy man looked oblivious to this, until he suddenly made  a sharp motion in the man’s direction. The rope unravelled from his body, shooting the dart straight towards the hand holding the knife.

The man with the knife yelled as the dart stabbed into his hand. He had enough time to look wondering at it, before the fancy man made another sharp movement, and the dart returned to him like an obedient falcon. He held it in his hand, giving a a hard look around the room. Satisfied that everyone was keeping their distance, the fancy man’s expression changed. A bright smile broke out, the kind Sef associated with the trickiest horse dealers she had known.

“Now, I feel we all got off on the wrong foot,” he said in grand voice but an apologetic tone. Finally able to get a good look at him, Sef could see he had copper skin, dark eyes and hair, with a small, triangular beard at his chin. His handsome face was somewhat spoiled by how handsome he obviously thought he was.

“My name, is Padro Pippenhal; Court Bard,” he said, giving a deep bow, and sweeping off his triangular hat. He looked up expectantly, but seemed disappointed when there was no reaction. “Court Bard to the Merchant El’Verana.”

This at least got some murmurs and recognition. The Merchant El’Verana was one of the richest Merchant Houses of Arad Doman. The Matriarch of the House El’Verana was one of the most flamboyant and eccentric of the Merchants. The festivals and balls she threw were legendary, even in the lowest regions of Katar.

“Although this is not known to the public…” Padro continued, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. He made his way to the bar, certain he had everyone’s attention on him. “…is that it was her nephew who was murder that fateful night.” Absently, he picked up what was clearly his cup of wine, and took a self satisfied swig from it.

Immediately his face screw up in disgust. He looked around, as if looking for somewhere to spit out his wine, and finding nothing, made an exaggerated gulp. “Mother’s milk in a cup,” he exclaimed softly. There were scattered chuckles from the crowd.

“Not a good enough vintage for you, bardling?” someone jeered from the crowd.

“My good man, please don’t mistake me,” Padro continued, in a slightly hoarse voice.

“My father was the most miserly man I have ever known. My Beltine gift was to only have to work half a day. At the age of nine, he charged me rent to stay under his roof, and at twelve to eat at his table. When he retired, he bought himself a vineyard, so I know what bad, cheap wine tastes like. But this,” Padro indicated the cup next to him. “Someone invested money to make this taste this bad.”

More chuckles spread across the crowd. The Silver Bow Inn’s wine was notoriously bad, and whilst Sef had heard worse, she bristled at the disloyalty of her patrons. They shouldn’t be so easily won over by this dandy.

Behind her she heard small bursts of hissing, and with a start realised that it was Oni, giggling to herself. She looked in shock at the other woman, who was watching Padro’s antics with delight. For the first time in their friendship, Sef felt a small burst of disappointment in her friend.

 “Thankfully, my patron is much more generous. Merely for helping me find the witness, we will give two barrels of my father’s wine, and some Two Rivers Tabac, no questions asked. Now, who’s feeling helpful?“ Padro queried, gesturing expansively.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the patrons of the Silver Bow looked at each other. Another voice called out from the crowd. “No questions asked? You swear to that?”

“By the Light and my hope of salvation and rebirth, I so swear.” Padro promised solemnly.

One of the men pointed behind Padro. “It were her!”

Padro turned to look over his shoulder. When he found Oni right behind him, he cursed and stumbled back, all his grace and bravado gone. Oni gave a shy smile, but the mixture of her lank dark hair, disquieting stillness and unnerving ability to see even with a blindfold on, she would have been startling even without her gaze.

“A blind witness is still a witness. Pay up!”

Padro looked at Oni in near panic, his rope and dart in his hand. To anyone else’s eye, she suspected Oni looked fearsome, but Sef was seeing something she had never seen in her friend before. Oni was hoping Padro would like her. A quick stab of jealousy bit at her.

Padro didn’t seem to notice Oni’s body language at all. In fact, the grip on his dart had grown firmer the more he looked at Oni. There was something in the stillness he held himself that Sef recognised from a lifetime of watching tavern brawls start.

“That is an employee of the Silver Bow Inn,” she said quickly, but with as much authority in her voice as she could muster. Padro’s head whipped in her direction with a look of incredulity, but at least he had stopped looking at Oni with any intention of violence.

“She’s not going anywhere without supervision.”

It took him a while, but eventually Padro responded.

“This is your employee?” he asked. His tone was neutrally flat, but Sef got the sense he wasn’t sure if he had gone mad, or if Sef had.

“I clean up after the pigs,” Oni hissed softly in explanation. She had stopped looking directly at Padro, and was instead hanging her head to the floor. She offered up a shy smile to the floorboards.

“I like your toy,” she made a small, flighty gesture with her finger.

Padro looked like he still couldn’t make up his mind what to make of Sef and Oni as he answered

“It’s called an Akien-Mandarb,” he offered it towards Oni, and then looked shocked that he had done so. Oni didn’t seem to notice, and just picked up to look at the small dart to look at it quizzically through her blindfold.

“Maybe one day you’ll see how it works,” Padro said, then looked like he wished he hadn’t. “A blind witness won’t be much use in court. Do you think you can prove who it was that murdered the Merchant?”

Oni was still inspecting the Akien-Mandarb when she nodded absently. Padro’s expression turned suspicious rather than panicked. He probably thinks Oni is bartering with him for her help. He snatched the rope of the Akein-Mandarb back, and it zipped out of Oni’s hand.

“I will give the wine and tabac to the Silver Bow Inn, and a sizeable pouch of coin, but we need to leave now,” Padro looked significantly more comfortable now. Like a decision had been made. Sef was immediately suspicious.

“She doesn’t go alone!” Sef said quickly before Oni could reply. Oni’s head turned a fraction, and she raised her shoulder in the barest shrug. Padro looked less than pleased to have Sef come along, which bolstered her certainty. Whatever was happening, Oni was naïve to it. She needed to protect her friend.

“Ellie?” Sef asked of the bar. A small squeak came out from behind it. “Can you manage the bar for a bit please?”

For a brief moment there was silence.

“Are you taking that girl with you?” Ellie said from wherever she was hiding behind the bar.

“Oni and I are going with this man for a bit, yes.”

“Then fine!”

Sef shook her head ruefully, and gestured towards Padro to proceed.

“Okay then, ‘Court-Bard’,” she said, with as much scorn into his supposed title as she could muster. The Merchants of Arad Doman might run the nation, but none of them used courts, or Court-Bards. He wasn’t fooling anyone but himself. “Where are you taking us?”

“To the Sunday festival!” he replied brightly, as he bade her go through the door first with a flourish.

“My patron is holding a dance there. I’m sure they are very interested in meeting you both.”

Chapter Text

It was like nothing Oni had experienced. Smells of cooking food wafted from one brightly coloured wooden stand and another. Jewellery of beads and glass were being sold, or sometimes given away. Several young women tried to put a necklace of beads on Sef, and one even tried to put it on Oni, until she saw her blindfolded face. Sounds of whistles, pipes and fiddles filled the air, as well as the steady percussion of drum circles and a consistent singing from several different voices. But that was nothing to the dancers and musicians, each one garbed in clothes so bright, even her Myrddraal’s vision could register them.

“Who are these people?” Oni repeated for the third time. She had to shout into Sef’s ear to make herself heard.

“Tinkers!” Sef shouted back, a great smile on her face. She seemed to relish Oni’s startled reaction to all the Tinkers. Padro gave them both a stern look, and raised a finger to stop them.

“None of that,” he admonished. “They call themselves the Tuatha'an, and whilst you are here, you will respect their ways. They have been welcomed by El’Verana, and as such we be treated with kindness.”

Oni couldn’t believe how they were dressed, or even how friendly they all seemed. It was infectious.

She stopped at a stall that had some of the Tinker’s clothing for sale. One of the garments shone out to her, bright and small. She touched it, and couldn’t believe how soft it was.

“And you give me a hard time for wearing revealing clothing,” Sef said wryly. She started arranging Oni’s hair, Oni suspected to better help them blend in the crowd. The noise here was quiet enough that they could talk without shouting. “Do you want it? It’d be nice to see you in something other than rags.”

“I could never wear this,” Oni whispered, but her hand drifted towards the garment. It looked like seven brightly coloured laces tied together, but she could see the woman behind the stall wearing it. Fast as a swallow landing on a branch, a vision of Sef in the dress came to into her mind. “But you would look so good in it, Sef.”

There was a pause from Sef, and then in a quiet voice her blonde friend spoke. “I would wear that for you, Oni. If you wanted.”

There was an odd tension in her voice. Oni risked a quick glance her way. Sef swallowed, and then raised her chin.

“Do you like it?”, Sef asked, and turned Oni to look towards the stall. Sef pointed to a plaque on the post of the stall, about her head height. “Could you clean that up? I’d like my friend to see herself.”

The stall owner gave Sef an odd look, and for a moment Oni thought she was asking how a blindfolded woman could see. But then she realized the trouble she was about to land in. It isn’t a plaque. It’s a mirror. Oni already knew what was happening. To Sef’s eyes, mirrors would show a reflection of the world, except for a Myrddraal; any Myrddraal would appear misty in a mirror. Oni on the other hand, could never see a mirror.

“I can see it,” Oni said as quick as she could. She reached up to touch her hair, and was briefly surprised to feel flowers in it. “It looks nice. Thank you, Sef. We should go,” she stammered out quickly, and grabbed Sef’s hand.

Sef’s hand in hers, Oni pulled along her friend towards where Padro was looking back at them impatiently. Sef’s gait was much lighter than before, and Oni had a queer sensation her friend was having to stop from skipping in delight.

“This is no time for joviality!” Padro snapped. “You are about to meet the High Seat of a Merchant House. Who is in mourning! Show some respect.”

Oni felt herself sneer at the man, but said nothing. I want that damn toy, Oni reminded herself. That meant she had to help this man. Especially seeing as owning the Akien-Mandarb did not mean she would know how to use it. She needed him to teach her. So she bared her teeth in a way she hoped he would think was a demure smile. He gave her a suspicious look, and then turned back to guiding them. She tried not to giggle when Sef murmured “A fun Court-Bard he must be.”

She remembered her dealings with Ba’alzamon back in the Blight. She knew how to behave in front of power. Padro guided them towards a large and fancy marquee, protected by two men in a uniform with large, ornate spears. Padro gave them a nod as they passed through.

Oni took a moment, and glanced back the way they had come. Going in to meet this woman would definitely bring more attention her way. Each time she did, it was another risk the Dark One or his followers might find her. She was still considering if she could run and hide when she saw the Myrddraal.

It stood, looking directly towards her, still cloak hanging down whilst around him brightly coloured dancers frolicked around him. Malevolence came off him like heat off a roaring fire, and Oni was certain that the small life she had built for herself was over. Then a dancer stepped between Oni and the other Myrddraal and he was gone.

Had she imagined it? She knew what Myrddraal were capable of, and this was beyond their scope. It was full daylight. Not even the best Myrddraal could shadow step in the midst of a crowd with this much light. Oni assured herself. It had to be her imagination. Although that is exactly how Dae taught me to instil fear in my quarry. She banished that thought. If Dae had found her, she would likely already be dead. Or wishing she was. She marched in past the opening, as much to get away from the possibility of a Myrddraal out there as to meet the Merchant. She felt a small relief when the falp closed behind them, though. 

The large marque had been arranged with beaded throws and pillows of all kinds, and gold and silver platters of food everywhere. At the centre was a slightly raised dais where a woman sat in luxurious silks, eating figs from a silver platter. Close by her were other fruits and nuts. This had to be the Merchant, El’Verana. With quick steps Oni made her way in front of the woman, and fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the grass below.

There was a pause in the room, and Oni felt a rush of cold terror. I’ve done something wrong, she realized, in near panic. Mistakes in front of the powerful could mean a slow and painful death. She stayed as still as possible. Whatever mistake she had made, if she was quiet it might be overlooked. She had never known that strategy to work before, but she had to hope.

“Uh, yes…” Padro said behind her before catching himself.

"You are in the presence of the High Seat of El’Verana, Merchant…”

“Oh, pipe down you up jumped gleeman, they don’t care.” The woman in front of Oni snapped at Padro. “You, girl. Stop hiding your face and look at me.”

Oni hesitated, but came up onto her knees to look the woman in the face. She expected the copper face to flinch back, but she just looked at Oni as if seeing a fruit she wasn’t sure how to peel. She was stout and stocky, with a wizened look older human women got when they decided they had lived long enough to be done with the worlds nonsense by some years now.

“So, who are you, and why should I care?” El’Verana asked. She used a nut cracker to open a walnut, giving it more attention than she gave Oni. Something is wrong here, Oni thought to herself. This woman should be terrified. She felt the need to be careful come to her as quick as a reflex, which was even more disconcerting as she couldn’t tell why.

“My name is Oni…,” she started, then stopped. As El’Verana brought the nut to her mouth, Oni saw clearly why El’Verana wasn’t afraid of her. On her hand was the serpent ring that the Aes Sedai Dea had brought her had worn. She was kneeling in front of an Aes Sedai. Aes Sedai can sense Shadowspawn. Can she tell I am Shadowspawn? Or is she confused by the other Myrddraal I saw. Wait, does that mean there really was another Myrddraal out there? A mix of different fears rose up in Oni, each progressively worse than the other.

She jumped as Sef replied for her. She hoped she hadn’t been silent for too long, but she had no idea how long it had been.  

“She saw the murder of the merchant. She can identify the men who did it.” Sef said, with a note of defiance in her tone. She walked over to where Oni knelt, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You can get up, Oni. This isn’t necessary,” Sef whispered. Oni flinched, and felt herself cower from Sef. You don’t show this much defiance to those in power. Especially those with THE Power.

“It seems that is what she is used to, whoever you are,” El’Verana told Sef around a mouthful of fruit and nuts. Sef gave the old woman a poisonous look, which she ignored. El’Verana gave Oni a look of puzzlement.

“What help can a blind girl be in identifying these supposed murderers?” the older woman asked, without any note of scepticism. “A court won’t believe she could see him. So how can you help?”

That is my out! Oni realized quickly. She had seen this with Ba’alzamon. If you can give the powerful what they want, they might sometimes spare you.

“He has a bag of gold!” She said, louder and quicker than she intended. “They tried to put a bag of gold on the dead body, but one of the men came back to pick it up. He only left a single coin on him. I hadn’t seen it’s type before. It had a woman holding a flame, like…” like an Aes Sedai.

Oni stopped at that moment, the implications hitting her. Except, she didn’t know the implications. She didn’t know what was happening. Only that this new information caused a reaction to everyone in the room, including Sef. She also knew that this tied the murder to the Aes Sedai. Oni suspected she hadn’t got herself out of trouble.

One of the uniformed guards came into the marquee, ignoring the tableaux of shock around him.

“There is a Questioners here, begging an audience,” he said. Behind him, a man in white and gold swept in, pushing the guard aside.

“Let him beg for longer,” El’Verana responded, as if the other man hadn’t entered. The white and gold clad man looked astonished and outraged. “I’m in the middle of something. Also, whitecloaks don’t have any authority in Katar.”

“The Children of the Light have authority wherever…” the man started, but El’Verana spoke roughshod over him.

“No-one cares about what airs you give yourself, boy. Now get out of my property and away from my festival, before the good mood this Sunday has brought me gets ruined and you are held responsible for it.”

The guard grabbed the Questioner bodily, and started dragging him out. The Questioner looked astonished that someone would dare to this to him. Evidently, the guard is more afraid of El’Verana than of him.

As the Questioner was escorted out, the noises of the fair started to change. Where before there was the sound of revelry and joy, now there were worried murmurs, and gasps of astonishment. Padro  kept open the flap to the outside as the Questioner and guard left.

“El’Verana, we have a problem,” Padro stated, whilst indicating outside. Everyone came to where he was pointing.

At first, Oni thought he was pointing towards the column of smoke, making it’s way past the skyline. Something about it’s position seemed familiar.

“That’s the Silver Bow!” Sef cried. Oni realized she had to be right. She could just make out where the fire was. But that wasn’t what Padro was pointing at. Making their way towards them, with the smoke almost as a banner, were a group of the Town Guards, flanked by whitecloaks.

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one who had heard rumours,” Padro muttered to himself.

“Indeed,” El’Vernana agreed. “Well, come on, you two. You can’t stay here. Come inside.”

El’Verana shooed them into the marquee again, and Padro let the flap fall closed. El’Verana made her way to a small but intricately bejewelled chest, and opened it up. Inside were coin purses, dozens of them, which she grabbed and turned back to Oni and Sef.

“Take one of these,” she said, giving them each one of the heavier looking coin purses. She had to use both hands to present them. “Go to East-town, the richest side of Katar. I’ll be able to find you there. Leave through the back, and avoid everyone. We’ll make sure these fool men don’t chase you.” 

Oni was tempted to give the coin purse back. Something about them smelled wrong. Before she could do anything, Sef had snatched her hand and was pulling Oni towards the back of the marquee. Once the were outside, Sef was running as fast as she could, and Oni had no choice but to run next to her. It wasn’t safe for Sef to be alone, not with these men after her. The flowers in her hair fell as she rushed to stay next to Sef.

***

Padro watched the two girls go. He still wasn’t sure if he should have just killed Oni whilst he had a chance. But he had learnt to trust El’Verana.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” he couldn’t stop himself from saying.

“I don’t, really,” El’Verana responded, tucking into the last of the figs and nuts. “But if you only do what you know, you will never grow. Besides, each one of those coins has a ward on it. So long as they keep hold of one coin in it, I’ll be able to find them.”

That explained that, at least. It would have been risky in any other circumstances, but he really didn’t think ‘Oni’ was likely to be robbed.

“Did you notice anything… unusual about the beggar girl?” Padro asked tentatively. Before El’Verana could answer, the whitecloaks and town guards swept into the marquee. Padro recognised a mob when he saw one, and held his Akien-Mandarb at the ready.

“Enough of your investigation. The Children will deal with this murder investigation!” The original Questioner who had interrupted them was leading the charge, with no real surprise. Next to him was a guard with a scar across his mouth. Three small scars, to be exact. Like an animal had clawed him.

“We know it was one of your witch sisters that was behind this. He wasn’t robbed! They left a bag of Tar Valon coins on his body. It could only have been a warder” The Questioner spat in accusation.

“First of all, it wasn’t a bag of coins, it was a single coin,” El’Verana replied. For some reason the Questioner shot a shocked look at the scarred town guard.

“And secondly, I am not Aes Sedai,” El’Verana went on, sounding bored and pouring herself a cup of wine from a silver flagon.

“I’m Tower Trained, but left before I became Aes Sedai,” she continued, “So I am not bound by the Three Oaths. And I don’t appreciate trespassers.”

She flicked her free hand, and with a horrible snapping sound, the Questioner’s head whipped around, and he feel down, dead.

“Thirdly, I am the Leder of the Merchant House of El'Verana. I will decide who is in charge of this investigation. Now, get out,” El’Verana ordered, bring the cup of wine to her lips.

The mob left, much faster than they had entered. Padro felt some satisfaction at watching them go, but he was still pretty certain El’Verana wasn’t as in control of this situation as she thought she was.

Chapter Text

Once Sef had arrived in Easttown, she had known she was out of her depth. Easttown was the richest district of Kattar, and it showed. Every person they passed sneered down their noses at Sef and Oni. The entire place was so pristine, she felt they were making it dirty just by being there. Instead of hawkers and stalls, people were walking up and down the promenade in their fanciest clothes, looking at the historic buildings and the small gardens that littered the streets.

Sef had hurried Oni into the cheapest looking inn, where Sef had looked into the coin purse to see what they could afford. She had immediately dragged Oni outside, and waved down a passing carriage.

“To the best inn in Easttown, my good man,” Sef had commanded, in the voice she had heard rich people use. The carriage driver hadn’t seemed fooled, but his sceptical look vanished when he saw the gold crown Sef offered him. “Quickly, please! As you can see, me and my friend have had a terrible misadventure.”

She was still pretty confident he had seen right through her, but the gold crown in his hand kept him from asking any questions. What he had in his hand was likely more than he made in a year, even in Easttown. She had spent the entire ride over trying to come up with a plausible reason they would have these coin purses but still be in such bad clothing, but the proprietor of the inn (The Three Maids) didn’t seem to be interested. They just pocketed the money and ushered them into the most luxurious rooms Sef had ever seen.

“Could you find us some seamstresses, too?” she asked of the serving man who had accompanied them up. “The bandits that made off with our things… they didn’t leave us anything. We’ll need new dresses, of course.”

The man bowed, and went left them in privacy. Sef heard him running, to do her bidding. She turned to look at her new rooms, and couldn’t stop grinning. Oni was looking around apprehensively, as if danger could be around any corner.

“Should we check on the Silver Bow Inn?” Oni asked once they were alone.

Sef burst out laughing. “That place burns to the ground once every three years or so. They’ll be fine! Light, Oni,” Sef exclaimed, grabbing Oni’s hands and dancing around her. “How can you be so glum? Don’t you realize what this means? We’re rich! No, scratch that, we’re free!” She grabbed hold of Oni’s shoulders. Even through the blindfold around Oni’s face, Sef could make out the askant look the other woman was giving her.

“Whoever was chasing you, whatever is in your past, it no longer matters,” Sef explained, patiently. She still couldn’t stop smiling.

“With this much coin, we could buy a farm. An isolated one. No-one could ever find us. We’d be safe.”

There was a silence. Sef realized Oni wasn’t looking askant; she was looking sceptical.

“Why would you do this?” Oni asked eventually, in her rasping voice. Sef blinked in surprise.

“Why would I do what?”

“Why would you give up your life? Why would you come with me?”

Sef felt a thousand tiny needles pierce her skin. I thought we were in this together, I thought… unbidden, her memory conjured the image of Oni following Padro. She kept her face smiling, and hoped the tears didn’t show too quickly.

“Because you saved me, Oni,” Sef said, and quickly let go of Oni’s hands and turned away. Her heart felt heavy all of a sudden. “I thought I could return the favour, that’s all.”

“You shouldn’t throw away your life so easily,” Oni said, softly. “You are too nice. You shouldn’t give this much.”  

Oni had said as much many times, but today it really hurt. She wanted to celebrate, not live in Oni’s pity party.

 “Forgive me if I don’t think working in a place that gets burned down every few years isn’t worth fighting for! You’ve seen the types of men that come to the hell. What makes you so much worse than them? You’re not some Fade, about to grow Trolloc horns, Oni. Why are you so convinced you are such a monster?”

Even with her back turned, Sef could tell Oni flinched. She could feel emotions roiling in her, and left before things got too heated, into the bathrooms that this inn supplied.  Any other time she would have marvelled at the private bathroom attached to a bedroom, but now she barely noticed the two giant cooper baths. At least, not as much as she normally would have.

She closed the door, and once alone she took a good long look in the bathrooms mirror. Oni has always been different, Sef she told the person in the mirror. But she’s not different like you. She never was. You need to let this go.

Her heart wrenched at the words and a little burst of tears came out of her. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with how unfair the world was, how much she wanted to hurt someone, anyone, just to make the world take notice, to see that she was in pain and didn’t deserve it.

But the moment passed. She took a breath, dabbed the tears from her eyes, and straightened her hair. She needed to look normal. Oni needed her. She turned, to find Oni at the door. She had her head bowed, but it was different to how she usually held herself. Her hands were picking at her nails, and she was shuffling her feet.

“Oni?”

With a quick decisive movement, Oni brought down her blindfold, and Sef gasped. In place of her eyes, smooth skin covered what would be the eye holes. There was nothing moving there, except the area between where her eyebrows would have been. They kept twitching upwards, a small gesture of insecurity.

Sef came forwards, and grabbed Oni’s shoulders. The other woman still wouldn’t look Sef in the face. Of course, how could she? Sef thought, which brought about a dozen other questions running into her mind. She didn’t think now was the time for them.

“Not having eyes does not make you a monster,” Sef assured Oni. Oni shrugged her shoulders, and Sef hurried on before Oni could interrupt her.

“Some of the nicest dogs I have known were strays someone didn’t want because it had lost a foot.” She laughed, and hoped Oni understood that to be a joke. She just stayed with her head bowed. Sef sighed, and tried again.

“I know showing me this is difficult for you. We’ll take it slow,” Sef told her, and redid the blindfold. “Now I always feel better after a bath, and these are the best baths I have ever seen,” she carried on in a matter of fact tone.

“I can’t have a bath. Running water could kill me.” Oni mumbled.

“Water in bathtubs don’t run.” Sef reminder her. Oni glanced at the copper baths in suspicion.

“I’ll get the serving boy to fill it up and let you get some privacy. I promise you’ll love it,” Sef reassured again. Please Oni, I just need some space to process this.

“Will you bathe with me?” Oni asked quietly. “I’d feel so much safer if you were here.”

Oni rarely asked for things, and she never used that quiet tone. It brought out ever nurturing instinct in Sef. Light burn you, Oni. You aren’t making this easy for me.

***

Oni couldn’t believe she was doing this. She held on as tight as she could to Sef’s hand, who had arranged for her own copper bathtub to be moved close enough that she could help Oni.  Sef’s bath was filled and steam rose around the surface, the bath suds and foam covering most of Sef up to her chin. Her eyes were half closed as she luxuriated there, but still allowed Oni to cling to her hand.

Oni’s bath water was pleasantly hot and most of the bathtub was in truth soap bubbles. Oni had only allowed the water to be half filled. It still felt like more than enough to drown in, and she couldn’t help casting furtive glances at the water she was in.

“So, just so I understand,” Sef started, in what Oni was pretty sure she thought was a reasonable tone. Oni snatched at Sef’s hand with both of hers, in case Sef tried to take her hand back again.

“You think the water that is barely covers your legs will drown you. No judgement, Oni; I’m just trying to understand.” The tone remained neutrally flat, and Oni briefly considered clawing the woman’s eyes out.

“My kind can’t swim,” Oni bit out each word. 

She didn’t want to tell Sef the real reason. The water she had been drowned in was only a little higher than her bathwater here. She could still feel the massive, furry hands that had held her down. She remembered clearly seeing Daes through the water as she thrashed.

He had sat next to her, once it was done. Sitting down he had been as tall as she was standing. They both looked at the line of wailing eyeless children being held by their Trolloc handlers, waiting for their baptism. Oni had shivered into her cloak.

“It takes a long time for Myrddraal to die,” he had told her without looking her way. “It’s why we can be drowned for so long. Most things would have died after only a couple of hours. It is our strength, as well as our curse.”

Oni couldn’t stop convulsing. She wanted to wretch. Her throat still felt raw from trying to scream underwater for so long. She didn’t think she would ever get rid of the scratchy feeling in her throat.

“You have a soft heart, Oni, so this lesson is especially important for you. Haid has given you a false impression of Trollocs. If ever you regret sending them to certain death, remember today. Any of them would drown you as a child on an order. Did they seem reluctant to you?”  

Oni remembered how she had shaken her head as she burrowed deeper into her cloak. She would never forget the cruel joy she had seen in the Trollocs as they tormented her.

“Good. Because they aren’t. Trollocs look forward to this day, above all others. The one time they can get back at Myrddraal. This is one of the punishments we get if we don’t listen to the Great Lord, or his Chosen. Remember this.”

Oni had never forgotten the hours of drowning. It had been the last time she had looked at water with anything but fear. She blinked herself out of her memories.

“Please can I join you in your bathtub!” Oni pleaded. I’m sure I heard somewhere that sixth time was the charm. Sef took a big sigh before answering.

“I really do think that wouldn’t be a good…”

“Please? Come on, Sef…” it must have been seventh. Seventh time it the charm.

“This isn’t comfortable for me, and I know you want me to enjoy this,” Oni continued, before Sef could respond again. “These baths are more than big enough for us, and with you underneath, I can’t drown, I know it. Please?”

It took her a moment, but Oni could tell exactly when Sef changed her mind.

“Oni, only this once. You have to understand…”

That was as much as Oni needed. She scrambled out of her bathtub, and brough herself into Sef’s. The water splashed out of the tub as Oni’s body displaced it, and Sef gave a bright delighted laugh. It took some shifting, and Oni kept a death grip on the sides of the bathtub throughout, but they managed to settle themselves into a comfortable position.

Sef was underneath her, and Oni leaned back against Sef’s stomach and chest. She let her head fall back against the blonde woman’s shoulder, let the certainty that the human body beneath her couldn’t fall into the water, and finally allowed herself to relax in the bath. She heard the deep sigh that rasped out of her throat as she sunk against Sef’s breasts and in between her thighs.

“Thank you,” Oni whispered out, once she had finished sighing. “This is much more comfortable. I am a lot less certain this will kill me.”

Sef put her cheek on Oni’s cheek.  “What am I going to do with you, Oni?” Sef sighed.

Oni smiled to herself, and tried to enjoy this new sensation. But she couldn’t. Even without the imminent death from the water, her mind kept going back to what she had seen today. Had that been a Myrddraal? And did that Aes Sedai now what I was? Were they all getting ready to kill her, even now?

These questions and a bunch of others kept forcing their way back into Oni’s mind and racing after each other. She tried to bring her attention back into the hot bath, back into the nice way it all smelled. Feeling Sef shift beneath her seemed to be the best way to distract herself, for some reason, so she focused on that.

“I enjoyed being in the Sunday festival with you,” Oni said. It made Sef shift, as she tried see Oni’s face. “We could do something like that?”

“About that,” Sef said hesitantly. “I’m sorry for putting flowers in your hair. It was stupid.”

“No, I liked it!” Oni replied quickly. If she learns I couldn’t see myself…

“It’s just that…,”

"Really, Sef, I did!" 

"Oni...,"

“Can we go out on the town?” Oni asked quickly. Sef had mentioned she wanted to take Oni out on the town several times before. If anything would distract her, it was this. "We finally have the money for it?"

Sef brightened considerably, and she stopped talking about the stupid flowers. “We do have money for it! Once we have some dresses made…,” she squealed, and threw her arms around Oni’s shoulders and hugged her close. “I’ve never been out on the town in Easttown before! Oni, it's gonna be so much fun, you'll see!”

Oni felt Sef’s breasts flatten into her back, and enjoyed the warm embrace. She couldn’t help a smile dance across her face. She may not have much time. Either the Myrddraal or the Aes Sedai could come for her. She might as well enjoy what time she could with Sef.

Chapter Text

Thank the Light this is the longest day of the year! Sef thought to herself. The sun was starting to set, but that just made the hot evening seem more alive.

She had worn an orange dress with yellow lining that hugged close to her skin but covered her to her throat, in the domani fashion. It was made of silk, and was by a wide margin the best clothes she had ever worn. She kept glancing at herself in the wide windows of the inns of Easttown, and couldn’t help grinning madly. She felt a foot taller as she walked the promenade, and made a point of staring down all the richly dressed merchants.

 By her side, Oni was wearing black dress with silver and white lining, that was similarly figure-hugging and revealing whilst technically covering her entire body. The blindfold covering her eyes was black silk now. Oni’s hair glistened from her bath, and her pale skin shone instead of the pallid colour Sef was more familiar with.

“I always knew you would look amazing after a bath,” Sef whispered to Oni. The other woman blushed, and tried to hide her smile in her shoulder.

They decided to have dinner in an inn that had seating outside, where the patrons could see Easttown’s street performer. Instead of the mud or cobblestones Sef was used to, the roads here were made of red sandstone, and carved flatly so no-one was likely to trip over in their expensive shoes. The buildings were all made of similar red sandstone, but with a precision that elegance that Sef hadn’t seen anywhere except the skyline.

They were entertained by the jugglers and tumblers, but the Strongman had seemed silly to them both, flexing his muscles at the slightest provocation, and achieving feats of strength they both agreed didn’t seem that impressive for a man with muscles his size. His absurdly large and curly moustache wasn’t helping. When he burst an apple by placing it in his elbow and flexing his bicep, both of them fell about laughing.

The compare, a ridiculously dressed man in green coat and top hat, encouraged the street performers, and proffered his hat for the coin of nearby audiences glanced their way, having noticed their humour. With an expression that seemed polite but unamused, he came over to them.

“Do you fine ladies find my Strongman unimpressive?” he asked, bowing slightly to them both.

Oni continued chuckling, but Sef smelled danger in his voice.

“He is a fine Strongman, good sir,” she replied smoothly, fishing out a silver mark from her purse. Between the seamstresses, the Three Maids and the meal they had just had, she was finally building up some coins she could spend without suspicion.

“It just takes much to impress my friend is all. Please, for your trouble.”

The man made the coin disappear, but his oily expression stayed.

“Thank you. My name is Leers, and I take pride in my performers. Is there a particular challenge he could do to impress you, fine lady?” he said, still mostly bowing.

Still chuckling to herself, Oni rolled an apple towards herself and gently tossed it up. As it came down, her hand shot out, too fast for Sef to see. Her arm fully extended, Sef could see that only one finger had been extended. Impaled on her long fingernail was the apple. Held securely in place, Oni brought the apple to her mouth, and took a bite from it. The apple didn’t move from her nail.

“Blood and bloody ashes!” exclaimed the Strongman from across the street. He rushed over to see them, ignoring the exasperated look the compare gave his back. He looked as excited as a small boy after his favourite honeycakes.

“That was incredible! I have never seen anyone do that! How did you train your nails? I didn’t know someone could do that?” The Strongman raved excitedly at Oni, in a surprisingly high voice.

Oni was still chuckling to herself, but made friendly conversation at the Strongman, explaining the blindfold was mostly see- through, she just needed a bit of protection for her eyes, and sadly unable to help him get his nails stronger. Sef watched as Leers made one last bow, and left them to it, and Sef watched in stunned delight as her friend happily spoke to a stranger.

Of all the unbelievable things that have happened today, Oni happily having a friendly chat seemed the least likely, Sef thought to herself. It was also the thing that brought her most joy.

The Strongman, who introduced himself as Kal, thanked Oni for her advice smiling widely. 

"I started doing this because I love feats of strength. You have given me a new demonstration. Thank you."

Kal gave them both a dashing smile and a twirl of his moustache before wondering back to his appointed spot on the street theatre. Once he was gone, Oni made a subtle flexing of her shoulders at Sef, careful to make sure Kal hadn’t seen. Sef couldn’t help but giggle, although she felt a little bad at teasing him now; Kal seemed like a genuinely decent man.

“At least he was nice,” she got out, before Oni could flex further. A serving girl came to them, and Sef expected her to tell them to leave. Instead she asked if they would like to know what the kitchens had for dessert. So this is how the rich enjoy their inns?  Sef thought to herself, whilst vigorously nodding to the serving girl.

Whilst they shared some dough balls that had been fried in oil and filled with fruits and cream, Sef thought she spotted the compare staring at them. He didn’t look their way, in a manner that seemed deliberate to Sef.

“What are these called again?” Oni asked, distracting her. Sef blinked. She had no idea; she’d never had these before. She was pretty sure they didn’t exist in the parts of Kattar she had lived.

They were walking arm in arm back to the Three Maids when Oni showed another sing of coming out of her shell.

“Tinkers!” Oni yelled in delight. They were passing one of the many greens of this district, and sure enough there were the tell tale splashes of colour that denoted the Travelling People. Oni pulled Sef’s towards them, and she let herself be pulled along, trying not to laugh at Oni’s delighted expression. It struck her that this might be the first time Oni had drunk more than a cup of wine.

Her mood soured as they got closer to the crowd. It wasn’t just Tinkers. Some rough looking men were pushing the Tinkers around, even slapping some. None of the Tuatha'an were fighting back. They just stood back up, trying to maintain as much dignity as they could.

“Hey! Knock it off!” Sef shouted at them, feeling her blood boil. When one of the men turned his sullen face towards her, she had the familiar feeling that her mouth was about to her her in trouble again.

“Or what, you stuck up brat?” The man responded.

“Or you’ll answer to my friend,” Sef stated, gesturing towards Oni.

Oni barely glanced her way. She stood for a moment, letting her gaze wash over the men. Sef could see the fear rise in them, but Oni wasn’t done. She untied her blindfold, showing her eyeless face, and opened her mouth wide. A large, almost prehensile tongue came out of her mouth, and she hissed at them.

Some of the men cursed, others stayed silent, but all of them bolted as fast as they could. Once they were all retreating , Oni turned to Sef. Holding her gaze, Oni flexed her shoulders in one of Kal's poses. Sef burst out laughing, but her laughter died down when she saw the fear in the Tinkers eyes.

“Oh, no… she’s fearsome looking, but she is completely friendly!” She assured the Tinkers. Most seemed to be ready to run anyway, but a single man came forwards, his hair greying at the temples, but his coat a bright red.

“I am sure she has a… kind heart. We thank you,” he bowed. “I am the Mahdi of this group. Do you know the song?”

Song? What song? Sef wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. She gave a glance towards Oni, who only shrugged.

“Uh… no. Sorry.”

The Mahdi’s lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile, but his voice remained solemn as he continued.

“Then we shall still seek. As it was, so shall it be, if we but remember, seek, and find. You will be welcome to our fires, anytime.”

He gave one last bow with both hands pressed to his chest. Too late, Sef decided to bow in the same manner, but he was already turning away and gesturing to the rest of the Tinkers.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

Sef turned to the voice, and found the Court-Bard, Padro lounging by a wall of an inn. At his hip was his Akien-Mandarb, but in his hand was a lute. On his head was a blue bycocket hat, which matched his blue coat.

“The line goes, ‘Your Welcome warms my spirit, as your fire warms my flesh, but I do not know the song,” he said, looking for all the world as if he was just tuning his lute. He spared them a side long look, though. “You two seem to be enjoying yourselves.”

Sef squared her shoulders to the man, feeling defensive, and trying not to think about whether she would need to pay back the money. If I spent my entire life working I the Silver Bow, I don’t think I could make back the money I spent this evening. She was surprised she didn’t feel a twinge of guilt at that thought. Oni stepped next to her, and whilst she didn’t square up to the man, Sef felt her support, and was grateful for it.

“Oh, would you three knock it off! Padro, this is no time for your drama!”

Sef’s head whipped to the inn door. El’Verana stood waiting with the door open, and an impatient look on her face.

“You two, get inside all ready and stop standing like housecats trying to scare of a stray dog. You owe me that much at least, if I judge those dresses.”

At her tone, Sef did feel abashed, but also a small thrill. If I owe her, that means this dress is mine now. She made her way inside and noticed that Oni glided her way too, head similarly bowed. As she turned to make sure Padro was following them, she saw in the distance the top hat and green coat of the compare. He was walking briskly away, but something in the set of his back made Sef certain that he knew she was watching him.

Was he really that offended that we laughed at Kal? The man himself hadn’t been this touchy. Sef dismissed him from her mind. Petty men like that would cause trouble over any slight.

***

Leers made his way to the Sha’mad canal, pulling his top hat close. The night was late, but he still wished he wasn’t wearing his brightest green coat for this meeting.  A meeting like this required subtlety. When he arrived at the crossroad of the bridge over the canal, he stopped, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Why did you call us?” hissed voice.

Leers spun, and saw the three black cloaked men who had stepped into the crossroads behind him. Three men, with black cloaks that didn’t move. He fell to his knees and prostrated himself.

“I found a girl, a woman who has your gifts, Great Ones!” He said into the red sandstone.

He heard one of the men step close to him, close enough to see his boots even from his bowed position. Behind those boots, one of the other Fades hissed it’s satisfaction.

“I told you she was here, Daes,” the voice said.

Leers wanted to cringe himself further into the ground. He couldn’t say how, but he could feel the rage coming off the boots in front of him.

“Who else did you tell?” He heard the owner of the boots ask.

“No-one, my lord.”

“Silence, worm! Who else?!”

It took Leers a moment to realise he wasn’t being addressed. It took even longer for the other Fades to realize.

“No-one, Deas. We came to you first.” Even with the grating sound, the voice sounded confused. The boots turned from Leers.

“You will leave her to me. The Great Lord tasked me to raise her, and I made her the best Myrddraal we have. She is too dangerous for you. I will deal with her alone.” The owner of the boots paused for a moment.

“This must stay between us.”

The tension in the crossroad changed. Where before there was only Leers fear, now there was a sense of impending violence.

“Daes, you are respected among us…,” one of the other hissing voices started slowly, almost hesitantly. “…but we can’t keep things from the Great Lord. Or the Chosen! Please, Deas…” the tone went from hesitant to pleading. “…don’t ask this. We cannot keep this secret.”

“To raise her to be the best of us, I had to become the best! I trained harder, dug deeper. There aren’t three of our kind that can stand before me…” the one called Daes responded. It didn’t sound boastful; it sounded like a statement of fact. Neither of his peers seemed to disagree. There was a slow rasping sound, and Leers risked a glance up. The one called Daes had unsheathed a curved, wicked looking black sword. In his other hand a long black bull whip uncoiled lazily, falling next to his boots.

Leers watched the whip fall, inches from his face, mesmerised. He glanced towards the two Myrddraal across the crossroads. Fear painted the Eyeless faces.

“…and I wasn’t asking.”

The tension reached a crescendo. Then it broke, and the boots were moving. Leers had enough time to see all of the Myrddraal flow into each other. His eyes managed to capture an impression of a dust devil spinning in the air, before he hid his face on the road again. The hissing and clashing sounds claw at his eyes, but he couldn’t watch. He felt acrid and vile smelling blood splatter across his face and hands. He knew Myrddraal blood could etch metal. What can it do to my skin? He didn’t dare wipe it off.

Finally, he heard an awful slashing sound, followed by a splash in the canal.

“No, please, please!”

Then there was another splash, followed by an ominous silence. Leers heard boots. He felt himself start to panic as he realised they were coming closer. A voice rasped out.

“You said you told no-one?”

“Please…,” Leers managed to get out, before he felt the curved sword stabbed his back. His eyes whipped open, and as he died, he watched the remaining Fade recoil his whip and sheathe his sword, not a scratch on him.

Chapter Text

The inside of the Inn shone with soft candlelight and wooden furniture polished with beeswax.  There didn’t seem to be as many patrons as was typical in the Silver Bow Inn, but that might have been because it was much larger. Occasionally some would glance Oni’s way, and she cursed herself for having gotten carried away with Sef.

Stupid, fool girl! She berated herself, whilst wishing she could tear off her dress. This is not how you hide. Any one of these people could be a darkfriend. She reminded herself that even among darkfriends, few people this far south would recognise a Myrddraal. She still felt every that looked her way, even if it was only a glance.

“My old bones simply cannot handle this heat,” El’Verana grumbled. She snapped her fingers at the innkeeper, who was busy wiping down his bar. “Bar man! Bring me that mint tea, you swore was so refreshing. And be quick about it!” She finished with a snap, and sat at a nearby table that had what looked to be iced cherries waiting for her.

The innkeeper’s face grew sullen for a brief flash, almost so fast that Oni wasn’t certain she had seen it. He also threw a surreptitious glance at one of the patrons close to El’Verana. Oni felt her hackles rise. Years in the Blight had taught her to spot an ambush, and she thought she was seeing one here. No-one would think to rob and Aes Sedai, she thought to herself. She still gave a searching glance towards the patrons nearby.

“Now, I can see you have been making use of the coins I gave you…,” El’Verana started, but Sef cut her off.

“Actually, we were robbed. A kindly woman gave us these dresses, but we have had to survive on nothing but the charity of strangers,” Sef lied quickly. Oni stopped herself from looking incredulous at her friend. She suspected Sef had a reason for this, although El’Verana’s face said she didn’t believe her.

“You can’t expect us to have protected ourselves from robbers with that much money, so we will not be held responsible for the money you chose to give us.” Sef finished, her chin held high.

El’Verana gave her a look that implied she knew Sef was lying to her, but because she was magnanimous was going to give her the chance to change her mind. Sef stayed still and silent by Oni’s side, as the moments dragged. A man set a teapot next to El’Verana, who sipped it loudly and gratefully. Still no-one moved, although Padro was giving Sef a look of respect behind El’Verana.

“Fine,” the older woman finally said, waving her hand airily. “You two are still paupers, and the silk clothes some kind woman gave you is all that you currently own. You’re in luck; they look like Delacroix’s work. She makes clothes for me quite often.”

Sef shifted next to Oni at that, but still stayed silent. Oni felt like much was going over her head, but said nothing.

“If you’re looking for more money, girl… I can respect that. I’m very close to becoming the richest Merchant in Arad Doman, which would arguably make me the richest person in the world. An extra bag of coin means nothing,” she made a dismissive gesture, then leaned forwards. “But I need my nephew’s killers. Brought to justice, legally. I need proof.”

“I don’t need money,” Oni said quickly, and ignored Sef’s outraged look. “I need protection.”

Padro and Sef glanced at her in shock, and even El’Verana blinked in surprise. Sef reacted quickest, however.

“There are just so many robbers out there. If you could give us the funds to hire a band of mercenaries to protect us, we’d…”

“You, hush! In fact, I’ll pay you extra to be silent for a time. You, girl…” El’Verana took another long, loud sip of tea. Oni suspected she was thinking of how to phrase her next question.

“What protection do you think I can provide that you can’t?”

She knows, Oni realized, with a flash of fear. She had to; how else would she think a blind woman could protect herself. But why not just kill me outright? She had to at least suspect. But she needed proof.  She controlled her expression, willed it into a mask of calm. She felt every eye on her, all of a sudden, not just at their table, but every patron, She had the irrational urge to whip off her blindfold for them all to see.

“You are Aes Sedai,” Oni pointed out. “Who couldn’t you protect?”

“I am Tower Trained,” El’Verana corrected. Oni felt confused. She hadn’t known there was a difference. “I am out in the world, free as a bird, with no-one to hold me to any Oaths.”

She gave Oni a knowing look, although she looked oddly tired whilst giving it. “If you think the whitecloaks hate Aes Sedai, you haven’t seen how they feel about me. That is why I need them out of my city, and they are using my nephews murder as an… as… what is…?”

“El’Verana,” Padro asked behind her, as she slid her head onto the table. He snatched up his Akien-Mandarb in his hand, but the patrons behind him were already piling on, and it wasn’t long before they had him pinned to the table next to El’Verana.

Forkroot! Oni realized, too late. The mint tea Deas had taught her about. The way to take an Aes Sedai’s skills. The innkeeper must have used it. She could see him now behind the bar, but not cleaning any more. He had a crossbow, armed and pointed towards El’Verana.

Before Oni could decide what any of this meant, the door they had just entered from opened, and in swept three Townguards, and two whitecloaks.

“We tried to do this the easy way, witch.” The foremost whitecloak said, in a smug tone of voice.

“I’m just going to shoot her,” the innkeeper said. He had a panicked look in his eye. “I’ve changed my mind. You can’t try her, she needs to die now.”

The whitecloak looked at him sternly. “She must be tried as a witch.”

The innkeeper didn’t reply. He just loosed the bolt, straight into El’Verana’s back. Or it would have, if Oni hadn’t caught it. The room froze, as all the men looked at the bolt that Oni held in her fist.

“Neat trick,” the whitecloak said. “But it’s still seven to one, little girl; and you are unarmed.”

It probably would have still been a fair fight, but another thing Oni had learnt in the Blight was that a fair fight was for idiots. She ran as fast as she could. Not towards the Townguards, nor the whitecloaks, not towards the men holding down Padro, not even to the innkeeper. Instead, she snuffed out every candle in the inn, plunging them all into almost darkness.

She charged at the innkeeper first, who put up more of a fight than she was expecting. Of course! Humans. She was thinking of fighting Trollocs who would have been half blinded by that trick. Still, she was a Myrddraal, with all the gifts that came with. From behind the bar, she dropped down, and in dark she shadow stepped.

Falling into the shadows was always difficult and risky. Shadow stepping was slippery, and the further away the shadow was, the more likely you were to miss it as you jumped from one to another. And missing a shadow was disconcerting. Missing a shadow meant you would be in the shadow realm.  

The shadow realm wasn’t as stable as the other realm. It flickered, and spun, like all shadows that were cast by a flickering flame. In there, you would tumble, and hopefully you would be able to claw your way back to any other shadow you could find. It was impossible to know which shadow you were returning with, but it was likely to be close to where you jumped in. But on returning, you would be disorientated and dizzy. It was why Fades didn’t Shadow step during a fight.

But the room was almost entirely shadow. Oni could skip from one shadow to another, and barely need to orientate herself. She let herself sink from shadow to shadow, letting the me gather themselves into a frenzy of fear and panic, until she appeared behind one of the men. With his back exposed, there was no fight involved, just a swipe of her hand.

He didn’t die. Neither did the next man. Nor the next. But they bled. They screamed. They panicked. One by one, they all left the inn, running as fast as their legs could carry them. Once they were alone, El’Verana whispered one word.

“Magnificent.”

Oni stopped, and had to put a hand on the table to steady herself. That much time hoping in and out of the shadow realm, she could barely stand. Sef immediately came out of wherever she had been hiding and grabbed her shoulders, offering Oni her support. Oni gave her a grateful smile, then flinched her eyes away when she saw the fear start to register in Sef’s eyes. Stupid! Don’t forget what you are. Stupid!

“Well, it turns out this is a dangerous place,” Padro said, as he gathered up his Akien-Mandarb and lute. “We can’t stay here. More will be back.”

“Padro,” El’Vernana said, her words slurring slightly. With a great effort, she pushed herself up off the table. “We need to go somewhere else.”

“Yes, but… where? Those men will have this place surrounded, and I’m guessing Oni here can’t pull of her tricks out there.”

They all paused in a tense silence, until it was broken by Sef’s surprisingly bright and optimistic voice.

“The rooftops? Oni used to get about that way all the time.”

Oni blushed fiercely “I don’t know what you are talking about, Sef!”

Padro looked uncertainly towards the slumped figure of El’Verana.

“She can barely walk, and you want her clambering about on rooftiles?”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Sef replied. “It won’t take long until they decide to set this place on fire just to get to her,” Sef nodded towards the older woman. Padro still looked sceptical.

“Between the two of you, you must be able to carry her,” Sef suggested.

Padro flinched, and looked towards Oni. She suspected he would have preferred to carry El’Verana himself, but couldn’t think of a good reason why.

So it was that the four of them made their way to the attic of the inn, a good four stories high, and very carefully out the window, with Padro and Oni half carrying El’Verana the entire way. Once on the roof El’Verana made a concentrated effort to try and walk on the clay rooftiles, although she kept an arm slung over Oni’s and Padro’s shoulders, to help support her weight.

“This is humiliating,” she grumbled.

Night had fallen by this time, and they travelled by the bright moonlight across the rooftops. Thankfully most of the buildings were joined together, and there were only occasion alleyways they had to jump across. Between the two of them, Padro and Oni were able to jump the alleyway without endangering El’Verana, although this didn’t stop her grumbles and continued chastisements.

“Are you two mad? I am not going to jump across…”

“Will you stay stable? I am not a sack of potatoes!”

“How could you possibly have found an even higher roof than the one we were just on, and more importantly why?”

“I’m so glad you saved me from a crossbow bolt just to let me die from this long, drawn out heart attack you are subjecting me to… Mind your footing, girl! What’s wrong with you?”

It wasn’t long until Oni had decided to tune the old woman out, and just focused on stepping carefully. She tried to ignore her frustration at having to help a person who only seemed to communicate via beratements.

“Perhaps it would help,…” Padro gently interrupted, after it was clear El’Verana wasn’t going to stop, “…if we all took a brake here. I feel like we all could do with some explaining of our situations, and crucially, what we are hoping for after this.” He gave Oni a meaningful look. Together they set El’Vernana down, leant against a chimney.

“Fine,” El’Verana grumbled. “Let me tell you a tale.”

Chapter Text

Spinning a tale

Sef tried to find a comfortable spot to perch on the rooftops of Kattar with very little success. Whatever tea had been fed to El’Verana might be wearing off, but she still couldn’t walk comfortably unaided, so it looked like they were going to be here awhile. Sef was grateful for the darkness; she suspected it hid the heights of their five story respite. She had never been fond of heights.

“As I had been about to say,” El’Verana started, her words no longer slurring, “The whitecloaks have been trying to tear down my house for years now. There’s never been any proof, but by the Light you can see their work in the whispers of the disgruntled.”

She shifted about, making herself comfortable as she slumped against a chimney. “I wasn’t lying earlier. My Merchant House is probably the richest in Arad Doman. I may be the richest person in the lands; the only person who can rival me is Laman Damodred, and that’s only because of his Silk Path. Take my word for it, that won’t last long. Even for a king Laman is a fool.”

Sef felt herself bark a laugh, but also was shocked at the idea that a Merchant would call a king a fool. She had always just assumed the rich stuck together; she had never considered that a Merchant would look at nobles the way Sef looked at Merchants. It made her feel warmer to El’Verana.

“Between his sporadic war with Andor, and the utter failure of his nephew’s marriage, something stupid is going to happen there, and when it does the whitecloaks will know the richest person is a woman who channels, and the most powerful woman is the Amyrlin Seat.”

She held up two fingers.

“That’s two channeling women they can do nothing about, in a world where they don’t think any woman should channel. They don’t like that. And this time, they are trying a conspiracy to fix it. So I need you,” El’Verana pointed at Oni “to prove it was them, so I can outlaw them in my damn city. Can you identify them?”

Oni nodded, and before Sef could stop her, she removed their only bargaining chip.

“One of the men has a scar across his jaw. He took the coin purse, filled with coins I hadn’t seen before.”

“These coins, they had a woman holding a flame?” Padro asked mildly. Oni nodded, and Sef realized they had no more bargaining chips. Oh well. We’ll have to make do with the coins back at our inn. At least she had managed to save those.

“I would say I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to keep that coin, but I have learnt never to underestimate stupidity,” El’Verana mused. “But how to prove it? He must have it hidden somewhere, but…”

“I could find it.”

Every eye turned towards Oni, even Sef’s. It was the most confident a statement Sef had ever heard from Oni.

“But I want some things in return.”

Sef decided she was going to stop underestimating her friend. Oni must have planned this from the start.

“First, we need hiding,” Oni indicated herself and Sef. “There are bad people after us. As powerful and as committed as the Children of the Light.” Oni does love her theatrics when she wants, doesn’t she?

“Second, I want one of those,” Oni indicated Padro’s Akien-Mandrab, “and I want you to show me how to use it.”

Padro looked utterly shocked. He very pointedly didn’t look at El’Verana’s impatient face.

“No,” he finally said, in an unyielding voice.

“Padro,” El’Verana said, but Padro interrupted.

“No, absolutely not. I am not teaching Shadowspawn how to fight, no way!”

“Respectfully, dear girl,” El’Verana asked Oni instead, noting something she recognised in Padro’s tone.

“What possible reason would you need that thing for? You seemed more than capable without it.”

“I’ve not seen it’s like before. Do you have any idea how rare it is for someone like me to find a weapon I haven’t used?”

Padro seemed to understand, although the stubborn set of his jaw didn’t change. That’s when it hit Sef; they all knew what Oni was. At least, Padro did, and Sef suspected El’Verana knew something. More than Sef did, anyway. That realization hurt, more than she would have thought. She had to remind herself that Oni couldn’t have told them, but she still felt betrayed.

“If we keep you hidden,” El’Verana tried again “you won’t need to learn a weapon!”

Sef’s stomach roiled, and she turned her back on the others to hide her expression. She didn’t want Oni to see her hurt. But something caught her eye as she looked away. It was hard to tell, but across from them, on the building across the street, Sef thought she saw a man in a black hood. Something in the way it stood out against the landscape looked especially sinister. She had the sensation of fear wash over her, a sensation she felt whenever Oni looked at her.

But it couldn’t have been a man. This high up, the winds howled around the rooftiles and chimneys. If it had been man in a cloak, it would have been stirring in the wind. But it didn’t. It just hung there, motionless against the star filled sky.

“Do you guys see that?” Sef asked, turning to them. But when she turned back, the figure was gone. This is a night for tricks of the mind, she told herself. The image of the man still stirred her.

“What did you see?” Oni asked. There was a sharpness in her hissing voice Sef hadn’t heard before.

“I thought I saw a man in a dark cloak,” Sef replied, and went silent at the expression in Oni’s face. All three of her companions started casting knowing, frightened glances at each other.

“It’s nothing. He’s not there anymore.” Sef reassured. They all ignored her.

"Plus, he couldn't have been really there. The cloak didn't move." 

It was like her words broke them out of their stupor. El'Verana immediately turned to Oni, who looked a lot more willing to compromise. Pador brought his Akien-Mandarb into his hand and turned to where Sef had been looking. His eyes scanned the rooftops, never resting anywhere too long. 

“I can’t make Padro teach you to use this trinket,” El’Verana exasperated. There was an edge to her voice now, one that hadn’t been there before. “But I can place both you and your pillow friend here in one of my estates.”

Sef felt herself flush bright red, and had to stifle the urge to slap the old woman. She didn’t think Oni knew what that term meant, but still.

“The one of my late departed nephew, in fact. Will that suffice? At least for now?”

Oni barely hesitated before nodding.

“Good. It's a bit secluded, but we should be able to house you in something comfortable until it’s ready. For now, head back to your inn. My men will come pick you up tomorrow.” El’Verana said, and shifted herself about. The tea must have worn off. The old woman could walk now, if a little unsteadily.

“I have had as much of the rooftops of this city as I care for, in my vast lifetime. And I have preparations to make,” she thumped Padro on his shoulder, “and a stubborn man to convince he has to share his toys.”

She turned to face Sef and Oni with her eyebrows raised. “I trust we have an accord?”

Oni nodded, although Sef didn’t share her confidence. It seemed frivolous, however as El’Verana leaned backwards off the edge of the rooftops, and slowly fell.

Sef, Oni and Padro scrambled to look past the edge. Sef was hit with a sense of vertigo at the height, but could see that below them a cart carrying a haystack had caught El’Verana. As they watched, the old woman climbed out of the hay, brushing herself off. Then she turned to look at them on the roof.

“Jump.”

Sef started as the word sounded, seemingly right next to her ear. She was even more startled when Padro leaped head first towards the ground. He tumbled over at the last minute, landing spread eagle on the hay.  The entire movement looked very practiced, although whether he had jumped into haystacks before, or he had El’Verana guide him to haystack before was unclear.

“I’ll guide you safely down.”

“Oh, Light no,” Sef said. She felt Oni’s arms wrap around her waist, felt herself being hoisted into the air as if she weighed nothing.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” the hissing voice whispered in her ear. Sef made a strangled noise that she was confident Oni would understand as an objection, but it was too late. Holding her close, Oni leaned off the rooftop and fell into the air.

For a moment, the wind rushed past Sef’s hair, and she felt weightless. It didn’t feel like falling, it felt like the world had gone, they were in the air, and there was nothing. Nothing except Oni, with the dark hair flowing around her, the slender but firm arms around her waist, the sweet smell of the soap from their shared bath, and her lips, playing at a gentle smile.

Then the moment passed, and the haystack slammed into them. Sef had landed on top of Oni, thankfully unharmed. Oni was starting to shudder. Sef rummaged round, worried her friend was sobbing, or in pain. But she recognised that soft, hissing sound as she brushed the dark hair from her eyeless face. Oni was laughing.

“You should have seen your face, Sef.” Oni giggled. This close, with the hay all around them Sef had to fight the urge to kiss her. Or to slap her.

“Don’t ever… ever do that again,“ she admonished, but that just made Oni laugh harder.

“If you both are quite done,” El’Verana said primly. From somewhere she had gathered a walking stick. Padro stood at her shoulder, casting a suspicious eye their way. El’Verana turned, and over her shoulder addressed Sef and Oni.

“I will have my men call on you tomorrow. We’ll take you to one of my , we can make preparations for your new home.”

Chapter Text

It was surprising how quickly you become accustomed to the finer things in life.

The main entrance to the manor was made of marble, as was each of the spacious rooms. The main hall was big enough to house the Silver Bow Inn, with some room to spare. Each of the adjoining rooms were bigger than most stables Oni had seen, all ornately decorated.

“This was his summer home,” El’Verana was telling them. Sef wondered the rooms with her, looking around and trying not to let her mouth fall open.

“A small enough little place, tucked just far enough away from the city not to be bothered. Obviously in normal times, there would be livery staff here, with servants and cooks to look after the place, and yourselves…,” something must have shown on Oni’s blindfolded face, because El’Verana quickly went on, “…but obviously, you two can look after yourselves, so you will be completely isolated.”

El’Verana continued showing them each room, using her stick to point at anything she considered important. Hung on the walls were occasional paintings, but Oni had no idea what they could be of. Different hues of paint weren’t something Myrddraal could see very well.

“I’m not seeing much family resemblance,” Sef finally enquired. That caused El’Verana to bark a laugh.

“That’s because I’m not related to any of them.” She didn’t explain further.

“You weren’t born a Verana?” Sef continued, softly. Oni would have to ask Sef more about her past; she had no idea why her friend was so suspicious of rich people, even when they just wanted to give you things for free.

“You, girl,” El’Verana pointed her walking stick at Sef, giving her a shrewd look. “Much like your friend, there is more to you than meets the eye.”

She sighed before she continued. “No, I was not born a Verana. It took many years after my ‘good deeds’ to be awarded the ‘El’ title. I’m surprised someone from a hell knows to take away the honorific.”

“The servant knows more about the master than the master cares about the servant,” Sef replied. Oni was pretty sure she was quoting something.

“I always heard it told as ‘the servant knows more about the master than the master KNOWS about the servant, but I suppose there are bound to be different spins on that old saying. So go on, child; what do you know of me?”  

The tour had come to a stop, Oni sensed, as Sef and El’Verana were going to spar. Oni didn’t like this one bit. It was not a battle she had any experience in, and she suspected El’Verana had much more than Sef did. Sef didn’t seem intimidated, however.

“That you are one of the most ruthless Merchants in Arad Doman. That you are known for eccentric practices, which I suspect hide a whole bunch of craftily placed schemes. That you have studied every poison, and aren’t above using them. That you employ Aes Sedai and cutthroats, equally. Then there’s the other rumours.”

At this point, even Sef seemed to think she was going too far, But El’Verana just raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“That you have dealings with the Shadow, and keep a menagerie of Shadowspawn.”

Oni looked sharply at Sef when she said that. El’Verana glanced her way briefly, but said nothing.

“That you bathe in the blood of the innocent, and use that to keep yourself forever young.”

El’Verana scoffed, and indicated her wrinkled face. “At least that one you can clearly tell isn’t true.”

“Maybe,” Sef countered. “But I know you’ve been El’Verana for at least a hundred years.”

“Aes Sedai don’t age like normal people, girl,” El’Verana informed her.

“You aren’t Aes Sedai. I’ve seen those ageless faces. There’s something else happening here,” Sef replied.

El’Verana had a new expression, one Oni hadn’t seen yet. El’Verana was impressed. She took a moment before responding.

“It’s called Slowing. Any woman that channels will undergo it. And as I have discovered, without the Three Oaths, you slow for much longer.”

El’Verana stared at a particular painting, at the top of the stairs. Oni wished she could see what was painted there.

“Do you know, I remember when the Aiel first started letting the Cairhien use the Silk Path?”

Oni didn’t know human history well enough to know how long that would have been, but Sef made a noise of surprise, bordering on incredulity.

“I was but a girl back then. Fresh out of Cairhien, from a minor House and off to the White Tower, to make a name for us. I was going to be the first to make my House proud. To mean something.”

El’Verana turned from the painting, as if she had lost interest in it quite suddenly.

“Of course, by the time I was Accepted Cairhien had become unbelievably prosperous. My House had become incredibly well known, making their fortunes with the silks they brought back from Shara. They started having greater dealing with the Tairen’s in particular. And just like that, they went from being so proud of having the first Aes Sedai in the family, to being ashamed of me.”

Oni expected there to be bitterness in this story. It sounded like a story to have bitterness in it. El’Verana just seemed rueful, however.

“My brother in particular, he wanted to marry this Tairen lady. Adiama, I think it was. She was from an old, proud family. And, being Tairen, the Lady’s father was firmly against any and all Aes Sedai, so… they disowned me.”

El’Verana started walking, and after a brief exchange of looks, Sef and Oni hurried to keep up.

“The thing was, I was never interested in being Aes Sedai. Not really. I only wanted to make my family proud. But since I no longer had a family, I decided I needed to find myself. And I wasn’t going to do that in the White Tower. For all those women call each other ‘Sisters’, there isn’t much of a familial feeling involved. So when my Aes Sedai testing day came, I purposely failed.”

“They tried to keep me around, but at the time, the White Tower had more than enough to worry about, and I could slip through the cracks comfortably. I set about rediscovering who I was. I ran off with the Tinkers, I joined the Sea Folks on their voyages, I even hunted Trollocs in the Borderlands! It took me  long time, but eventually I realised what I wanted. Power.”

She turned to face them both, and they pulled up sharply.

“Power is what keeps us safe. Families can abandon you. Friends may find other priorities. But Power stays. And don’t let any Aes Sedai fool you. Money is the biggest power there is. With enough of it, you can make even an Aes Sedai dance for you.”

El’Verana pointed at Oni.

“Your friend has power. Secret power. Unexpected power. And I need that. For now, I just have to deal with the white cloaks. Eventually, I may need to deal with the White Tower. They can’t make me Aes Sedai,” she gestured sharply, “but I’ve seen what they did to the Daughters of Silence.”

“The who?”

“Precisely! And when they come, I intend to be ready. I can’t train any women to channel, so I need…,” she indicated Oni, and struggled to find the best word.

“Contingencies.” She placed both hands on her stick.

“So I grant you, I am not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, Sef. You are correct. The gold coins was a test. You passed; no-one robbed you. Now, you have a new home. Well done!”

She spread her hands and indicated the palace they were in. Sef didn’t look grateful.

“Now, I will leave you to get comfortable. I shall call on you tomorrow. In meantime, if you need to get in touch with me, Sef can come a visit.”

“Because you know Oni is stuck here,” Sef replied, sharply.

El’Verana shrugged her shoulders.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said as she turned away. She started walking towards the front door. Sef let her, although she glowered the entire time.

Just before she left, Oni called after her.

“Do you have a menagerie of Shadowspawn?”

El’Verana turned, and looked their way. They were too far for Sef to hear, but Oni’s hearing was much better, so she heard what the old woman whispered in response.

“Not yet.” Then she closed the door, and left.

Once she was gone, Oni busied at her blindfold.

“I really don’t see what the problem is,” Oni tried to keep her voice mild. “As far as I can see, we have come home.”

Sef turned on her in fury.

“The problem is you’re trapped here, Oni! She has made you a prisoner. She can’t do this!”

“There are no guards,” Oni objected. “None of the doors are locked. This isn’t a prison, this is a home. We can leave whenever we want.” She knew this was a half truth at best, but she was hoping that Sef didn’t.

“Except we are surrounded by water,” Sef responded, in a harsher tone than she usually used with Oni. It made her flinch. “You want a repeat of crossing the Sha’man Canal?”

Just those words made Oni’s stomach clench in fear. She stayed silent, avoiding looking at Sef. Her blonde friend gave a disgusted sound.

“I don’t know why you trust these people more than you ever trusted me. I don’t know why you are fine with them knowing your past but not me. I don’t care anymore.” The last words were said with pain in her voice. It tore at Oni to hear it. She was certain her friend had tears in her eyes.

“What I care is why you think I’ll stay here to watch you simper at that lying old witch. Or do you really believe she’s five hundred years old, Oni?”

Oni blinked in surprise. She had missed that bit. Sef vibrated next to her. Oni couldn’t tell what emotion Sef was feeling, but it seemed like there was a lot of them.

“Here, I am safe,” Oni whispered in response. “I could barely make it here, Sef. The others, the ones like me… they can’t reach me here.”

She heard Sef take a deep, ragged breath. “Oni, what are you?”

Just like the last time she tried to tell Sef, she willed the words to her throat… and they stuck there. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Even if Sef didn’t run from her, she would never speak to her again. Oni stood there, trying to get to words out, or find the right words, or even the wrong ones, but nothing came.

It eventually became clear to Sef that Oni wasn’t going to respond. Oni had enough time to glimpse her face twist into a sob before Sef towards the nearest bedroom, and slammed the door closed.

“The next time you have to go over the Sha’man, you can do it without me!” Sef screamed from the closed door.

Oni sighed. That hurt. She wondered towards the kitchen, feeling raw and broken, and wanting the comfort of food. Those last words had stung more than she thought they could. She would never have made it across the canal without Sef’s help, and they both knew it. Sef had managed to make one of their closest memories together, a thing Oni was convinced she would treasure forever, and made it a knife to slice at her.

As she brought out some bread to slice, she tried to console herself.  At least here they could both be safe. No Myrddraal could find them here, not even…

“Dear oh dear,” the sinister mocking voice said. Oni went frozen, and turned to face the last person she had ever hoped to see in her new home.

At first, Oni wasn’t sure it was anything but shadow, but then it moved, and Deas was stepping towards her. Even for a Myrddraal, Deas moved sinuously. He leant against the doorframe, barring Oni from the only way out. He seemed to find the knife she was holding pointed at him amusing. Oni tried not to let her hand shake.

“Your friend sounds so hurt, Oni. No, not hurt; betrayed,” Deas spoke in an insinuating, vicious manner. His mouth savoured the word ‘betrayed’ as he spoke it. “I suppose I should be happy these lands haven’t changed you, Oni.”

Oni didn’t respond into the silence. She didn’t even blink. Deas gave a soft snort of derision at the knife in her hand, and kept on talking, as if they were going through another lesson back in the Blight.

“What did you do this time, Oni? What happened at Sha’man Canal?”

Chapter Text

“So what happen at Sha’man Canal?” Deas asked, his voice deceptively mild.

Even as Oni held the knife towards the other Myrddraal, her mind went back to this morning. The memory was going to be burned into her head forever.

***

The bridge was wide, enough for four carriages to ride side by side. In the centre, lamp posts were stationed at ten paces sections. Oni had wrapped herself around the first one, holding on for dear life. She wished she had eyes so that she could close them tightly, but there was nothing she could do. Not even her blindfold offered any protection.

Underneath her, she could see the torrent of water, passing faster than she would have thought possible. Whenever she turned her head away from it, her sight instead went to the thundering waterfall next to the bridge. Watching the waves of water crash down was somehow even worse than watching it rush under her feet.

“So it’s true,” Padro mused next to her. He snorted a brief laugh. “What exactly stops you from crossing this water? How could it possibly harm you?”

“Do you have any idea how long it would take one of my kind to drown?” she screamed at him. On her other side, Sef was rubbing her shoulders consolingly. She was making reassuring noises, but Oni ignored.

“Wait, really? It’s just a phobia? There’s nothing that holds you in place but fear?” Padro asked incredulously.

For a brief moment she forgot that she wanted him to teach her the Akien-Mandarb. She forgot that she was supposed to be hiding from the Shadow. In that moment, all she wanted was to scratch his eyes out. But she didn’t dare let go the lamp post. She managed a toothy snarl at him, though.

“Oni,” Sef said softly at her shoulder. Soft, comforting hands patted at her back and shoulders. She tried to squeeze the parts of her face that would have been eyes shut. Memories of strong, furry hands, holding her underneath the water floated in her mind.

“Oni, you are safe,” Sef reassured her. Oni felt herself shiver underneath Sef’s soft hands. “It’s just like when we were in the bath. Remember?”

The memory of lying back on top of Sef, the warm water surrounding them came into her mind. She snatched at it, tried to remember everything about it; the smell of the soap, the heat of the bath water, the impossibility of Sef’s soft skin. Anything to drown out the memory of an army of Trollocs drowning her.

The conflicting memories warred in her, allowing her to loosen her grip on the lamppost. She still couldn’t make herself let go. The fear inside her was too great.

“You can’t let the fear stop you.”

It wasn’t Sef that said that. It wasn’t Padro. IT was another memory that spoke those words. It was Deas.

They had been on a ridge near Thakandar, looking out at the baptisms of the Myrddraal. Oni had huddled into her cloak, trying to warm up after her horrific baptism. Deas was sitting next to her, as companiable as two Myrddraal could ever be. The lines of Trollocs stretched out, excited and jeering at the infant Myrddraal they were drowning for the day.

“They want that fear to stop you, give you pause. They hope it will make you treat them better. Fear is their tool.” He had placed a hand on her shoulder. In another creature, there might have been comfort there. The closest a Myrddraal could hope for was understanding.

“But fear is what we are. It’s not a tool for us. We don’t wield it and then put it down. We bask in it. We live with it. Do not let it control you. It’s the only way to get revenge.”

At the time, she had thought Deas had been talking about the Trollocs. But this was what he had meant. The fear of the rushing water. The only way to get revenge. Don’t let the fear control you.

She snatched her hands off the lamppost and dashed towards the next one. She wrapped herself around it, did her best to ignore the rushing water beneath the bridge. She started hyperventilating.

Just as she thought she couldn’t go on, that she would never move, that she wanted to run back to safety, there were Sef’s hands, stroking her back and shoulders. Soft words whispered into her ear. Oni couldn’t keep track of most of them. The flashed of memories and thundering water beneath her drowned most of them. But Sef said one phrase that her mind could latch onto.

“We’ll have a better life on the other side.”

A better life. The best revenge. She calmed herself enough to pull away from the lamppost. On the fourth try she managed another dash to the further lamppost.

The bridge over Sha’man canal was made up of five arches, and each arch held four lampposts. They had started their journey in the morning, and the sun was setting by the time Oni stumbled past the last lamppost. It had never gotten any easier. The sound of water thundering underneath her had grown louder the more time they had spent on it. But each time she had wanted to quit, Sef’s soft hands were at her back, with whispers of encouragement.

Oni knelt on the crossroad of the bridge and the road, panting into the ground.

“I’m so proud of you,” Sef said, giving her shoulders a side hug. Still kneeling there, Oni turned and wrapped her arms around the blonde woman, hugging her tightly to her. They knelt there, on their knees, gripping tightly to each other. Distantly, Oni was aware of Padro telling onlookers to ignore them, that it was all part of a bard’s act, as he had spent most of the day doing.

“You know, I always wanted to show you this,” Sef finally said into Oni’s shoulder. Then she chuckled. “Or at least, I wished I could show you. I was never entirely sure if you could see before this week. Do you want to see it?”

Confused, Oni pulled back. She still kept her vision downcast, but she nodded her consent to Sef. Sef pulled her up, and brought her to the side of the road. They were at the side of the canal, where Oni could see the water rushing past, thundering under the bridge. She felt Sef’s body, and realized she had pushed herself as close to her as possible.

“Don’t look at the water, Oni. Look across.”

Oni forced her head to tilt upwards, her neck so stiff it took real effort. When she did, she gripped Sef’s hand. It stayed in her embrace, strong and unyielding.

It wasn’t the water under the bridge that was thundering. It was the water flowing down from the dam that towered over them, away from the bridge. Oni couldn’t help watching the water fall and fall, churning the canal below them.

“It’s called the Sha’man,” Padro said, joining them to look out at the landscape. “The only dam that was Ogier built. Sha’man means thunder, in the Old Tongue. It’s named after the noise it makes. You have excellent taste, Sef. If you like looking out at the city. I can’t imagine a better view than this one.”

Oni could understand why. There was a beauty to the dam, and the way it stood out against the back drops of the spires and domes of Kattar. Even with her Myrddraal vision, even with the horror of watching that water crash into itself, she couldn’t deny it, although it would always strike her as a bit macabre. She watched the waterfalling, and let herself slump into Sef’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad we got to see it at sunset, too,” Sef sighed. “Aren’t the colours amazing?”

Oni couldn’t help shifting uncomfortably. Myrddraal couldn’t see colours as well as humans. She suspected the view for them was even more impressive. She felt an odd tug at her heart, knowing she would never be able to see like they could.

“I can describe it for you, if you like?” Sef whispered to her. She must have noticed. Oni felt a warm feeling inside her grow. It was the first time Oni had realized she loved her friend.

***

“You’re not going to tell me what happened?” Deas asked, tilting his head. “That’s fine. I’m confident your friend will tell me, with some encouragement.”

Fear stabbed through Oni. She lunged at Deas, knife extended.

Deas had been ready. It was embarrassing. He used the same move that had always caught Oni off guard, and she stumbled past him, and had enough time to brace for the impact. His side kick was as familiar as a hated nickname. His boot smashed into her ribs, and she crashed into the kitchen counter, hard. Pots and pans fell around her. Breath left her body, and pain wracked sides, and she fell to her knees. But she kept hold of the knife.

She tried again, tried to remember everything she knew about fighting. It barely mattered. Deas had taught her everything. He didn’t even bother drawing the sword and whip at his hip. He just danced around the swiping knife, not even bothering to block, and Oni had enough time to see his hands flash out. Then she was crashing into the kitchen cupboard before falling to the floor. Plates crashed around her. At least one had cut her wrist.

“Oni?”

Sef’s voice made her freeze. Deas looked from her face to the doorway out of the kitchen.

“I heard a crash. Did you drop something?”

Deas risked a glance at the kitchen doorway, and that was all Oni needed. She scrambled up from the floor, and ungracefully launched herself at Deas. He had enough time to turn towards her, grab her wrists to keep the knife from him, but he had to shift backwards, and Oni pressed him. She felt triumph soar in her, not just from this fight, but for all the many times she had fought Deas and lost. Finally, I have him!

Around Deas, shadows loomed, and too late Oni realized they weren’t just falling backwards. Deas was pulling her into a Shadow Step. Except Deas didn’t pull her from one shadow to another. Instead, he spun them both, his hands holding her wrists in his vice-like grip. Spinning, they fell down into the Shadow Realm.

Chapter Text

Oni spun, trying to orientate as she fell through the place only Myrddraal could visit. She tried reaching for the nearest shadows around her, the gateways back to the real world. Whenever she did, Deas strong hands on her wrists would twist, pulling her away. She lifted her head so they could stare at each other, one Eyeless face to another.

She tried to fight, kicking at him, biting at his fingers, simply screaming. She twisted the knife in her hand, trying to get at the arm holding her in place. The most she managed was to get Deas to sneer at her. Together they spun, deeper into the Shadow Realm.

Oni had never been this far, or this deep. Shadows flickered by her, faster than she could notice. The further into the Shadow Realm they went, the more slippery the sense of falling became. She wasn’t sure she could even go through a shadow at this speed. Oh god, I’m lost here. Any of these shadows could lead anywhere.

Deas spun her again, and the shadows swam around her. She got the sense of being lifted, which made no sense. There wasn’t a way to be lifted here. No way of landing. There was only the weightless falling in the Shadow Realm. But there it was. Together they were rising: or maybe falling in a different direction. He spun with her again, and she felt the shadows shift again, felt herself falling in a different direction.

A hard point dissolved in the midst of the shadows. Something firm and stable. They were tumbling, so Oni just perceived it zipping past her, one moment to another. But she noticed it was starting to get bigger. Deas threw her towards the hard point.

***

Oni smashed into a stone pillar, marked with rune and letterings she didn’t recognise. She felt the sun beating down on her face, but that couldn’t be right. It had been night moments ago. Time worked the same in the Shadow Realm as it did in the real world. She turned to look past the stone pillar, took in enough details to realize she wasn’t anywhere she recognised. The vegetation was different from anything she had ever seen.

Before she could pick up any other clues, Deas stepped out of the shadow of the stone pillar. She slashed at him with her knife, but he effortlessly dodged, and backhanded her face. Her head rung and her jaw stung, but she was just getting ready to try again when he smashed into her, grabbing her wrists and together they tumbled into the Shadows again.

***

Oni tumbled again, still unable to orientate herself. She was travelling to fast, and the sense of thunder all around her. The shadows flickered, providing glimpses of safety before they zipped past her. Panic rose in her. They could be anywhere by now. It was like being on the Sha’man bridge all over again. There wasn’t the sound of water thundering here, but that same feeling washed over her. The inability to keep going, of fear holding her in place. The fear that she was lost, that she couldn’t control this. She would be falling forever. How long does it take a Myrddraal to starve to death? She felt a hand grip her wrists, and Deas was scowling in front of her. 

‘Do not let it control you.’

The memory of Deas’s own words floated to her mind. More than that, the memory of remembering Deas’s own words, propelling her to hold on to herself, to dig a little deeper, and allow herself to battle her own fear.

‘I’m so proud of you.’

She held on to the memory of Sef’s words in her ear. Used them to control her panic. Brought them into focus in her mind.

‘We’ll build a better life on the other side.’

Her lips crawled back in a snarl. She leaned away from Deas, flashed her foot upwards She saw his head snap to the side as the kick landed. She had a moment to rejoice, before he spun again and threw her into the Shadows. She tumbled, and had enough time not notice a point ahead she was careening towards when she slammed into something hard and pointy.

***

Oni gingerly pushed herself up to standing. Under her hands was another stone pillar, marked with rune and letterings that were similar, but different. At her feet the ground was hard and dry. Deas Shadow Stepped next to her, and she tried to start backwards, but her ribs burned in pain when she did. That was where she had landed on the stone pillar. She kept a death grip on her knife, however.

“Put that thing away, Oni,” Deas told her, with a small snarl.

She raised the blade up to him again.

“No?” Deas said. His small snarl turned mocking. “Am I still your enemy, Oni?”

Oni said nothing. She tried to stop her hand from shaking. But she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Deas will have to come to me, she thought firmly. Then maybe she could slice at him. Except he didn’t. He made a casual gesture that encompassed their surroundings.

“Do you know where we are?”

Oni hesitated. At first she thought they were back in the Blight, but it didn’t seem right. She looked around. When they had fallen into the Shadow Realm, it had been night, but she saw that dawn was starting to break on the horizon. They hadn’t been in there that long, but the sun was rising over the broken ridge of the mountains in the distance. The ground looked dusty and baked, but different from the Blight. It was almost…

Oni went cold. ‘He couldn’t have... Not even Deas would…’ the thought was too horrible, to insane to complete. But this was exactly how this had been described to her.

“Is this the Dying Grounds?” she managed to get out, hoping her voice didn’t squeak. She looked from one horizon to another. Deas had stopped the most urgent danger she had to pay attention for.

“Oh no, not just the Dying Grounds,” Deas said, as if this wasn’t the most fear spot for all Shadowspawn. He lazily pointed his arm out towards his right.

“That there is the most holy place of the Aiel, bar none. It’s where they make their leaders. It’s where their channelers gain their wisdom. What they do to human’s trespassing here is vicious. But Shadowspawn they find here…” Deas gave a non-committal shrug.

“…I imagine it would rival the Great Lord’s wrath.”

If even half of what Oni had heard of the Dying Grounds was true she fervently agreed. Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face.

“Remember that the next time you think to bring a weapon to me. If you make me your enemy, I will bring you here and leave you to your new ‘allies’ mercy.”

“And I’ll take Sef to Shayol Ghul.” The words were unsaid, but so obvious that Oni knew they were Deas’s next step. She lowered the hand holding her knife.

He made her wait. Not because he was still deciding; Deas was intimately familiar with Oni when she had been defeated. He just did it so Oni would know who was in charge. Behind her, she heard voices. No, wait… women shouting. She turned her head to look over her shoulder. Some women in wide skirts were pointing their way. She felt the itch of women channelling, and globes of light appeared in their hands.

“We can’t be seen here,” Deas said, as he snatched at her hand, pulling her towards him. She broke her gaze from the women to see that Deas was pulling her into the Shadows again.

She fell, this time not fighting Deas. The Shadow Realm twisted and turned around them, different shadows providing half seen gateways to who knew where. Her stomach twisted at the lack of ability to move, to control where she might be going. Then she realized how stupid that fear was now. She knew where she was going. She was going to be brought back to Shayol Ghul.

“We can’t be seen here.”

Deas’s words stayed in her head. As she tumbled through the Shadow Realm, those words niggled at her brain. Deas hadn’t been afraid of the Aiel, or at least, that wasn’t what scared him most. He was scared that one of those women would be dark friends. She couldn’t understand why, but the mystery allowed her to ignore the slippery sensation of being in the Shadow Realm.

As they fell, she recognised more of those hard spots, those stones Deas had thrown her against. They seemed to be heading towards one, but at the last minute the Shadow Realm spun again. Except it wasn’t the Shadow Realm that moved. At the edge of her attention, Oni could just about feel Deas doing something. They were the ones spinning, moving as if on a cloud of thunder. Oni had never heard of any Myrddraal that could travel the Shadow Realm this way. Certainly not this far. How had Deas learn to do this?

As they turned and spun, the shadows flickering around them, Oni saw one shadow that she recognised, and knew at least why Deas had learnt this new skill. They crashed into the shadow, Deas landing on his feet and Oni tumbling along the floor, landing hard onto the hay pallet that she had made her bed for some years now.

They were back in the warehouse Oni had made her home. All this time, Deas had known where she was. She gathered herself onto her hands and knees and looked at him. He was staring out of the broken section of the roof, where Oni had looked out at the cityscape so many times. It had always brought her peace; Deas did not look at peace.

“You have some explaining to do,” he ground out, still looking out at the towers and spires of Kattar.

Chapter Text

Dawn might have been breaking in the Dying Grounds, but it was still deep night in Kattar. The thought came to Oni’s mind that Sef would be worried, and then she realized the depth of the trouble she was in.

“Please,” she said, still kneeling in the hay. “Please don’t hurt Sef.”

Deas looked her way in confused surprise, which slowly turned into outrage.

“You mean your human pet?” His voice was quiet, but with a seething anger. “Are you serious?”

He flowed towards her. One moment he was by the hole in the wall, then suddenly he was towering above her, shaking in rage,

“Where was this concern for Haid?” he snarled at her. Oni felt herself go cold. What had Deas done to Haid?

“Oh, now you care?” he exasperated at her. “You didn’t seem to care when you ran from Shayol Ghul. What did you think Ba’alzamon would do to her? Or the Great Lord? Did you even think when you abandoned us?”

He spun away, gripping his hands into fists. Oni got the sense that he was restraining himself, but that wasn’t what brought her sense of relief. If Deas wasn’t looking at her face, he couldn’t see her surprise. Deas didn’t know Haid had helped her. Haid must have kept that hidden from him. That was some comfort.

“How is she?” Oni asked, softly. Whether she helped her escape or not, Oni knew enough about the Dark One’s methods to know Haid would be held responsible.

Deas gave her a poisonous look before glaring back at the cityscape. He seemed to be struggling to look at Oni directly.

“I don’t know,” he eventually said. There didn’t seem to be any anger in his voice now. Oni thought she head regret, but no anger. “I wasn’t told what happened with her. All I know is every time I see her, she is near tears. When I come close to her den, she is wailing.”

Oni recognised what was happening to Haid. She misses me. Just like I’ve missed her. She had avoided thinking about it for so long, but just the thought made her want to weep at how much she missed Haid. The only reason she wasn’t is because she had no eyes to weep with. Only a burning sensation behind where they would have been.

“So you do care,” Deas said, after giving her a quick glance. He snorted softly, but contemptuously.

“It’s too late now. I don’t think you understand just how much you threw away when you left us.”

He turned to face her, and Oni saw something in Deas for the first time. His rage had always been there. That strict determination, that certainty was a part of him. But for the first time, Oni saw something underneath that. Deas was hurting.

“You were the first Myrddraal to be given a mother. Do you understand that? The first to be given anyone who cared for you. Do you have any idea how rare that is for Shadowspawn? To have people who cared for you? It’s unheard of, Oni. It has never happened. And you threw it away, for what?” He gestured out of the broken wall and ceiling to the city of Kattar. “These people, who would kill you out of hand? For people who would hunt you down with dogs?”

Oni felt a stubbornness rise in her. She wasn’t sure how to give voice to it, but she had enough of just hanging her head whilst Deas ranted at her.

“As if the Dark One wasn’t going to do the same thing?” she spat back. Deas’s face twisted in anger and some other emotion Oni had a hard time seeing. He turned from her, and they stayed in a tense silence.

She got to her feet, and brushed off the straw that had clung to her dress. She walked to stand by Deas. They both looked out of the cracked wall in silence.

“Are you going to take me back to Shayol Ghul?” Oni asked. She had to; she couldn’t understand why Deas hadn’t brought her back already.

“If I take you back, you’ll be killed,” Deas spat at her, without looking her way. “The Great Lord will have no choice. We are constrained by our place in the world, Oni." He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. "I’ve been trying to work out a better option. Then you decided to paint a sign on your back, and start frolicking around with your humans for all to see.”

Deas doesn’t want me killed, Oni thought to herself, which seemed a wonder. She was turning over in her mind everything she had learnt in the past hour. When she did, it shook her to her core. Deas loves me, Oni realized with a shock. I’ve seen this behaviour in humans. It’s the only thing that makes sense. It wasn’t the same love as she had for Sef. It wasn’t even the same as Haid’s love for her, although that was closer. Whatever it was, she could see it in Deas.

“I’m not sorry I left, Deas,” she hissed out. “But I am sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” she finished.

That was only a half truth at best. She was pretty sure if Deas had known, he would have stopped her. But she thought this might help him feel better. She put a hand on his shoulder. She had seen humans do this.

Deas gave her hand a sharp look. Then dragged his eyeless gaze to her face. Slowly, that sharp look faded. 

“If you had come to me, we could have worked on this together,” he told her, turning away uncomfortably. A Myrddraal’s hissing voice didn’t lend itself comfortably to gruffness.

Oni knew that was a lie, even if Deas didn’t. But she wasn’t sure he knew why he was so upset. This wasn't the time to push him. She had to be clever, like Sef. 

“For now,” she said, a little timidly. “For now, we can tell them I am here, on a mission to destroy the Children of the Light,” she tried. She knew she had said the wrong thing when Deas frowned in confusion.

“Why would we care? We have just as many ‘Friends’ in the Whitecloaks as we have anywhere else.”

“No, I know,” Oni hastened to add. She had gotten so lost in human politics, she had forgotten the Dark One’s methods. Whitecloaks, Aes Sedai, none of them mattered to him; all were corruptible.

“But I’m doing it to get closer to a woman, a channeler,” Oni knew she sounded like she was stammering, and slowed herself down. “Someone who is trying to build a rival White Tower.”

That made Deas’s non-eyebrows rise. Oni kept her face as neutral as possible. She wasn’t sure what expression was the opposite of lying, so she didn’t want to risk any expression.

Slowly Deas nodded. “Yes, that would be useful.” Then, with a firm decisiveness he went on. “Stay here another year. Stay hidden. Then, I will take you back to Shayol Ghul to Ba’alzamon.”

Her heart rate increased.

“It might be better to stay longer. This woman is dangerous,” she tried to say quickly, but he cut her off with a cutting gesture.

“You have been away from us too long,” he decreed. “Any longer, and they will think you have defected. But you also need some goodwill from the humans." He let out a sharp breath of frustration.

"We are constrained again. One year you will stay, and gather information. Then I will bring you back, Oni. You better have something to show the Great Lord by then.”

***

Sef stared out of the window of her new room. It was so late, there wasn’t even the lights of the windows that usually dotted Kattar. Even the moon seemed hidden in the sky. It felt fitting, that darkness. It matched her mood.

She couldn’t find Oni. She had searched everywhere. The manor was big, and the grounds were extensive, but they were surrounded by a moat. She had seen how difficult it was for Oni to cross water, but Sef had been searching all evening. Oni was nowhere to be found. She bit her lip, a swell of hurt and loneliness filling her chest.

Tears started to fall in earnest at her cheeks and she snarled. Don’t cry for someone who barely cared for you! All these years you cared for her, and it took two days for her to drop you for El’Verana. Have some self respect!

No matter how she berated herself, she didn’t feel better. Oni now thought she hated her, and she had left. The object of her fascination for so long was no longer around. Sef felt listless, and unsure what to do.

Something fluttered at the edge of her hearing, and she turned the sound.  In the corner of the rooms, Oni stepped out of the shadows, head held bowed, blindfold on. Her dark hair hung over her face, like a veil.

Sef suppressed the lungful of relieved breath that escape from her. Her emotions were still raw, but she refused to let Oni know how happy she was to see her. Angrily she wiped tears from her eyes, and folder her arms beneath her chest. The weight of tension hung in the room, but she wouldn’t speak first. Not this time.

“I’m sorry,” Oni rasped out, eventually. Her voice had a tone that Sef hadn’t heard before. Something in the way she held herself didn’t seem usual either. It took her a moment to realise Oni was sobbing gently. Sef steeled herself. She refused to take the bait.

“I never wanted to tell you, I never wanted you to know, I’m sorry Sef, I just didn’t want you to hate me,” Oni spoke fast, the words running over each other as they tumbled out. Oni’s voice rarely had any emotion. Hearing the hurt made Sef want to rush over, tell her she was sorry, and that it was all past. She made herself stay where she was. Oni said something else, so softly Sef had to indicate for her to say it again.

“I’m Shadowspawn,” Oni repeated, a little louder this time. She took off her blindfold, so Sef could look on her Eyeless face. Sef waited, hoping for clarification. Slowly, she understood that Oni wasn’t being hyperbolic. How stupid does she think I am?  

“Shadowspawn?” She repeated, giving the single word explanation the contempt it deserved. 

“’The look of the Eyeless is fear’. I know you’ve heard that phrase before,” Oni said, and slowly let her eyeless gaze lift to Sef’s eye. She felt the shock of Oni’s attention as she always did, only this time, Oni kept her gaze. Fear grew stronger and stronger in Sef, but she fought it down. The memory of those words played on her mind. I have heard that phrase before. She searched her mind, and found the when and where of those words. A Borderland soldier, back in the Silver Bow, with too much wine; telling wild stories about a Fade.

Fear had gripped her stomach by now. She felt like the shadows behind Oni could contain anything, could come alive even. Awareness that her friend had been part of evil, part of a rot in the world pushed at her mind, but she pushed back just as hard. She had promised herself she wouldn’t care what Oni was; she intended to keep that promise.

“So you’re Shadowspawn,” she said, masking her fear, and giving a nonchalant shrug. “Fine! You’ve obviously abdicated from the Dark One. What’s the problem?”

She wasn’t sure what she expected from Oni’s reaction, but it wasn’t the bitter bark of a laugh that she got. Oni tore her eyeless stare away from her. Sef tried not to let her grateful sigh show.

“The problem is they found me,” Oni rasped in response. “The Shadow knows where I am now. I can’t have my life again. All the constraints I worked to get away from, I’m going to be back under in a year.”

Sef felt a jolt in her stomach. I only just got you back, the weakest part of her internally wailed. She didn’t bother stopping herself this time. She rushed to Oni, embraced her, and tried to stop the tears that wouldn’t appear on her face, no matter how Oni sobbed.

***

Oni heart was heavy and hurt, and she hugged her friend close. She had come so close to having the life she wanted. A life even better than she could have expected, with El’Verana as her patron. But it had all been a lie. Deas had known where she was the entire time. She had been a fool. I thought I was free, Oni internally wailed. She felt the bindings of the Dark One's plans expectations being to wrap around her again. 

Sef hugged her close as her body tried to weep without eyes. Her head slumped against Sef’s forehead, and she felt the heat of her companion’s body. She was going to lose everything. I might as well enjoy what I have, for the time I have it, she thought to herself. Even so, it took her three tries to muster the courage to kiss Sef.

It started timidly, with a soft peck on Sef’s cheek. Then quickly onto her lips, fast enough that she could deny it if necessary. Then Sef was looking at her face, where her eyes would have been. Oni could see the fear that her regard caused painted on Sef’s face, but there was something else there. An admiration, or desire. It twisted Sef’s face, turned it into something akin to worship, and then she was kissing Oni, pushing her back onto the bed.

She couldn’t believe how good Sef’s fingers felt on her. They played at her private areas, dipping inside her in exquisite pleasure. She watched Sef’s face as she worked, watched the expression of fear and awe in her blue eyes. Watched as long as she could, she started convulsing. 

It wasn’t long before a new feeling came over her, one better than she could have imagined. A wave of pure pleasure, that left her in a state of bliss. As she lay on her back, panting away, she felt a new hunger come over her. She wanted to see what Sef would look like in such a state. She grabbed the other woman, drew her down onto the bed, and brought her hand up Sef's thigh. However, before she got to her intended area, the blonde woman caught her hand.

“Oni, uh, if you don’t mind,” Sef said, trailing her fingers across Oni’s inch long finger nails. They were hard enough to pierce flesh, and Oni understood she would never be able to give Sef what she had given her. Before the disappointment could settle over her, Sef whispered in her ear.

“I was hoping we could try something else.” A soft, tickling hand stroked her cheek, before guiding Oni’s face downwards.

It turned out a Myrddraal’s prehensile tongue could be a delight, in the right circumstances. Sef’s eyes still held her gaze, and the fear in them turned to passion, and worship, and back again. Sef’s breast heaved when her bliss came on, her back arching and her thighs squeezed Oni's face. A satisfaction bloomed in Oni, bordering on smugness. Sef was beautiful in her pleasure. She made her way to hugg her close, and together they drifted into sleep in each other’s arms.

Chapter Text

Oni stood in the shadows of the room and watched over Sef as she slept. Just as she had done so many times before. This time felt different. The dawn light bounced off her friend's fair hair, so that even Oni's eyeless gaze could appreciate its beautiful color. Oni had always thought Sef was pretty, but somehow, after last night  her friend looked beyond beautiful.

No, not my friend, Oni corrected herself, a sly smile twisting her mouth. My lover.

The thought made her happier than she could have thought possible. The sly smile broke out into a delighted grin, one that she couldn't suppress no matter how  hard she tried. My lover. I love her, and she loves me. We are lovers. She rasped out a giggle, and twirled a little dance, then froze as Sef stirred. Oni scurried closer, feeling guilty. She hadn't meant to wake Sef. Thankfully the other woman still had her eyes closed. Sef had always been a heavy sleeper. 

At the edge of her hearing, the sound of two voices drifted up from the moat of the mansion. El'Verana and Padro, Oni was pretty certain. Good, she thought, grimly. It's time to get to work.

She brushed some hair out of Sef's face with a long fingernail, and then trailed it down the perfect check and jaw. Sef shifted again, moaning herself awake. Oni shushed her. "I'll be back soon...," she rasped out softly. Then, once she worked up the courage, added "...lover".

Then she let herself fall backwards, into the shadows and through to the Shadow Realm. She was pretty sure Sef had started to smile, but hadn't dared stay to confirm. It made her grin all over again, and she squashed it down ruthlessly. Now wasn't the time to enjoy her happiness. Deas was coming to take her happiness away. She couldn't allow that. She stepped through a shadow, appearing behind El'Verana and Padro.

El'Verana was dressed in a high necked green dress with gold linings, cut in a style Oni couldn't recognize. Beside her, Padro was awash in lace and sashes, almost enough to drown in. She would have been contemtous of his dandiness, but she noticed she couldn't tell if he had his Akein-Mandarb with him under that lace. 

"...and that is why I think you should just let me handle that girl-Myrddraal, before it's too late," Padro finished. As he did, El'Verana turned to face Oni, and with a start so did Padro. He looked abashed for all of a second, before defiantly lifting his chin. Oni didn't care that he had been talking about her. This whole matter had become too urgent. 

"You will teach me, and you will trust me," she said, firmly. "You want the guards found, I want to learn that weapon. Please...," she tried to find the words that would explain. 

"...My father found me last night." It was the closest she had. 

For some reason, the words seemed to have a great effect on Padro. Pain and understanding flooded his face. Oni hated it. She spoke on quickly to change the subject as much as she could. You can't understand what I went through, you insipid man!

"He, he doesn't want me here. He wants me to go back, back to Shayol Ghul, back to the Shadow. I can't, I... please. I need a way to fight him."

"You can understand that, can't you?" El'Verana murmured to Padro. He looked abashed. Without looking at Oni, he spoke. 

"Swear to me, by the Light and your hope of salvation and rebirth, that you will only use what I taught to fight the Shadow." 

Is he... he can't be serious?  Oni looked at El'Verana, who shrugged. It must have slipped Padro's mind that Oni had no hope for salvation or rebirth. Still, she did indeed only intend to use it to fight the Shadow, so it made little difference.

"I swear," she said, then realized he was probably hoping for more. "..., ugh, by the light and my salvation and hope for rebirth." 

She wasn't sure she said it right, but it looked like Padro just needed to hear something.  He still wouldn't look at her, but he nodded. El'Verana looked to have lost her patience. 

"If you two are quite done, all of this is still irrelevant until you tell me how you can provide the proof we need. I have held up my end of the bargain. How are you going to uphold yours?" 

"The way any Myrddraal would," Oni replied. "I will ask my friends." 

***

"Oh my god, I love her!" Sef screamed in delight at the rat on her dressing table. 

"I think I can confidently say that I will never understand you, Sef Sharif," Padro replied dryly. "How can you find those scruffy creatures cute is beyond me."

"But she's so tiny! Look at her, fixing her own hair! She is easily the least scruffy rat I have ever seen." 

Padro looked over at the dressing table despite himself. The rat did indeed seem to be grooming itself, using the mirror to make sure it was presentable. On a second look he could see that though it was still a rat, there was no way you could call it scruffy.

"That's how she got her name," Oni hissed next to Sef. "She's called 'Princess', because the other rats tease her for spending so much time grooming herself. She thinks you smell nice." 

Sef beamed at being so complimented by the furry creature, and Padro had to suppress his urge to shake his head. 

"So what is the raven called?" Padro asked, indicating the raven on the writing desk.

"Pebbles," Oni replied simply. When everyone looked at her quizzically, she went on slowly. "Because he likes pebbles so much." 

Everyone looked at each other in confusion. 

"I mean, I didn't name him," Oni muttered defensively. "And he's a crow, not a raven." 

Padro looked at 'Pebbles' again, and noted that around the writing desk there were small pebbles strewn about that he must have brought in. The crow looked immensely satisfied with itself. 

"I'm gaining an education in the lives of crows and rats, it seems," El'Verana mused to herself. "How is it you speak with them?" 

"It isn't speech, as such. It's more impressions, sensations. Thoughts and memories in your mind, but from the other's mind," Oni explained. 

"I met a man, long ago," El'Verana said in a ponderous tone. "He described talking to wolves in a similar way." 

Padro was about to scoff, but something in the way Oni shifted to look at Pebbles that caught his attention. 

"Pebbles says that is similar," Oni started, then looked at Princess, then back to Pebbles.

"He speaks of a time, before the Dark One, that the wolves and the crows would work together. That they would talk and hunt, and laugh at man's attempts at wisdom. He says one day the wolves and crows will go back to being friends again, and man will go back to being silent."

Oni turned to Princess again. "Princess doesn't understand why Pebbles would want to be friends with those vicious beasts. She thinks we shouldn't pay too much attention to the tall tales of crows. Crows are known to exaggerate; apparently every rat knows this. And given to gossiping." 

Whilst Princess continued to groom herself in the mirror, the crow bristled on the writing desk. A few quick hops brought him next to the rat's side, and he went to peck her hind paw. Princess scurried away just in time, then batted her paws against Pebble's beak. Pebbles drew himself up in affront.

"Enough, you two," Oni hissed. Beside her, Sef was holding her hands to her chest as if she could barely contain herself. 

"Ignore their antics," Oni told El'Verana. "Despite their animosity, these two are my most trusted spies, and leaders among the rats and crows. They will find your proof."

El'verana nodded. "Just in time. I'm to hold a ball in the next week." 

Sef looked astonished. "You just hosted a Sunday festival...,"

"And now I need to hold a ball! That is what being rich demands of you. Pay attention, dear girl. If you are to pass as part of my House, you will need to learn this. You must provide all the entertainment you can. Balls create guests. Guests become allies." 

Chapter Text

Sef was used to the clinks of glasses and bustle of a drunken crowd. Despite herself, she had expected it to be different in a Merchant's Ball. All of her life, the talk around the poorer areas of Arad Doman had been of the Merchant's extravagant and luxurious parties. Sef helped herself to a tiny pie from a passing servant and popped it into her mouth. It was delicious, the pastry flaking as it melted into her mouth. She sipped her Ghealdian red. The food was better, and the wine was sublime; but the sound of a drunken crowd sounded the same in the sculpted gardens of East Town as the Silver Bow. 

The gardens were covered in lit torches and marques, with the rich and powerful of Arad Doman. Sef entertained herself as she sipped her wine, trying to figure out which of the silks and dresses was the most expensive. She suspected it was the black and silver dress made of silk that clung to every curve of one woman. It looked so sheer it was almost see through. Sef suspected the woman that wore it had to put it on wet for it to be so figure hugging. 

"That dress...," a voice next to her said in a disapproving tone, "...will never catch on in fashion in Arad Doman." 

Sef had been told not to talk to anyone here. El'Verana needed her face to be seen so they could start to be known in court, but was firmly told not to reveal her accent, as anyone would be able to hear that she wasn't part of the Merchant class the moment she spoke. She turned to smile politely, intending to laugh it off and move on. But her smile froze in place when she looked at the ageless face of an Aes Sedai.

Decked out in a simple brown dress, she should have stood out for dressing so drab in this place, if it weren't that the dress was so plain to even deserve mention. Brown hair only mildly tinged with some silver was pulled back in a gentle and homely bun. This woman was trying her best to pass herself off as unremarkable. Sef hoped her initial reaction hadn't been caught, but suspected it already had. 

"Even in Arad Doman, that is... a lot. Still, I suppose it is eye-catching. That woman will be the talk of the ball. I wonder if El'Verana invited her for that purpose. The Lady Besen is known for her scandalous ways. But whatever for? Why would El'Verana invite her?" 

Light, Light, what do I do? Sef thought to herself. Talking to an Aes Sedai was no way to keep a low profile. 

"Well, who can know a woman's mind, in truth," the Aes Sedai sighed to herself. "And El'Verana in particular has always been an eccentric. A collector of oddities and curiosities from around the world. Famously so. So, what was it about you and your friend that caused her to adopt you?"

The question wasn't asked pointedly. With the woman's vague and distracted manner, it didn't even seem rude. Sef wasn't fooled, not for an instant. She knew Aes Sedai. The dusty librarian facade would be dropped in an instant if it stopped being useful.

"I don't know, my lady," Sef responded in her friendliest voice. It was the voice she had used to calm belligerent drunks for years. "I didn't think it wise to question her about it. I'm just enjoying being her guest."

"Guest don't get invited to live in a house, dear," the Aes Sedai responded gently. "You are something far than that now. An ally, perhaps? Be careful, dear; in the halls of the powerful, you will need allies." 

The Aes Sedai made a small gesture with her hand, and a tiny pie lifted off a nearby platter and floated into her palm. 

"I think I would make a great ally to yourself, your 'sister' and El'Verana," the stout woman mused to herself. "My name is Verin Mathwin, Aes Sedia of the Brown Ajah."

If Verin thought Sef would be impressed, she was going to be disappointed. My sister was doing things like that before she even left for the tower. And Leane had two left feet! As far as Sef could see, any woman that had just a little bit of channeling could easily do this. 

"I'm not at war, Verin Sedai," Sef responded coolly. "I don't need allies." 

"El'Verana certainly does," Verin responded. "I have information of a prophecy that concerns her. I would like an audience. I was hoping you could help me with that."

Despite herself, Sef frowned. "Why would you need my help?" 

Verin blinked in surprise. "El'Verana has forbidden any visit or audience with Aes Sedai, Sef Sharif. You should learn more about who you get into bed with."

The last felt like a mother chastising her daughter. Sef would have bristled, but Verin was right. 

"If you'll excuse me?" she said to Verin, and made her way towards the marque she knew El'Verana was in. She stopped when Verin followed her. She turned back, but the Aes Sedai was giving her an innocent look. 

"I don't believe in wasting time, dear. Might as well talk to El'Verana if she is here," Verin said. Sef couldn't think of a way to dissuade her without being rude. Besides, she had dealt with enough Aes Sedia to know they would just walk all over your objections if you gave any. She would have to find out how El'Verana had managed to get them to respect her decree to leave her alone. 

She walked briskly along to the place she had been told El'Verana would stay. She was being attended by some of her fellow Merchants, a gaggle of women who were laughing and trying to ingratiate themselves to El'Verana. The old woman took one look at Sef, then glanced behind her to the Aes Sedai, and the wrinkled face pinched as if she had bitten into a lime. She made a gesture with her wrist, which was enough to get her sycophants to scatter. Sef didn't think she would ever get used to how this woman existed. 

"Merchant El'Verana, I bid you...," Verin started behind her, but El'Verana cut her off.

"What are you doing here, Aes Sedai? Your Tower was clear they would have nothing to do with me unless I came under your authority. No sister is allowed in my presence until that decree has lifted." 

Sef felt her heart sink. So it wasn't that they respect El'Verana. It's that they won't deal with her. She was surprised at how disappointed she was. It had been nice to think someone had stood up to the Aes Sedai, even if it was a Merchant. 

"I am... not here to advise. I am not here under the Tower's direction. I come as a guest. One with information about you," Verin answered vaguely. Her tone shifted briefly, her gaze sharpening.

"You must feel the presence of Shadowspawn around you now? This far from the Blight? I bring you what might be answers."  

Sef made herself breathe easy. If Verin knew about Oni, she would not be after an audience. 

"Shadowspawn can't hurt me," El'Verana responded with full confidence in her voice. She indicated towards a servant in livery. "You there! Tell the Lady Purr she is to visit with me in the West Wing Hall. Be quick about it!" 

Sef felt herself relax slightly at that. She knew she didn’t know as much as El'Verana about what a woman who can channel can feel, but she knew they could sense Shadowspawn. She trusted her patron knew what she was doing to keep Oni safe.

"Nonetheless, you are being hunted," Verin continued, completely unperturbed. "I believe I know why they are hunting you."

"If I can talk frankly, Aes Sedai...," El'Verana responded as she rummaged in a bowl of figs. Sef was suspected El'Verana kept bowls of fruit close by simply so she could rummage in them whilst responding to anyone who thought they deserved to have her full attention. It was probably why her mouth was always full when she answered. 

"...The Dark One is hunting all of us. That is what makes him the Dark One. I would be more interested if you could bring me proof of my nephews’ killer." 

Verin blinked in surprise and tilted her head ever so slightly. It gave her something of a bird like quality. 

"That should be easy enough. But I will require an audience that is perhaps more... private," Verin responded. Sef wasn't sure if she imagined the little shift of Verin's eyes in her direction or not. 

"Fine, fine... if it will get you to leave my party in peace," El'Verana exasperated. "Meet me in the East Wing. WE will discuss it further there." 

***

Oni skulked in the shadows as she hid. She wanted a closer look at the Aes Sedai that had called upon El'Verana. She was pretty sure the old woman would be a match for any Aes Sedai she met, but pretty sure wasn't always enough to keep you alive. No-one this side of the Borderlands seemed to have any sense of preservation. Even Trollocs knew you didn't face a potential enemy without overwhelming force. 

It had been a while since Oni had felt the need to guard anyone's back but Sef's. There was something comforting in knowing your ally was also competent. It made her feel like overwhelming force might not be immediately necessary. Still, it was always nice to have that in waiting in the arsenal. She toyed with her Akien-Mandarb whilst she waited. Nearly a week of practice had left her itching to try it on an opponent. 

Both El'Verana and her new Aes Sedai 'friend' came into the main hall, their shoes clicking on the marbled floor. With them, a hard-faced man strode with them, his colour shifting cloak dangling on his back and a sword at his hip. Oni watched from the balcony, and immediately knew she would get a chance to try out her new skills. She would have waited to see how this all played out, but behind the Aes Sedai and warder, Sef was crouched low, walking behind them. It took Oni a moment to realize Sef was trying to sneak behind them. It was adorable, but it meant she was going to be caught immediately, which meant Sef was in danger, which Oni could not allow. She Shadow-stepped between Sef and the Aes Sedai.

Instantly she felt the itch of a woman embracing the source as both the Aes Sedai and her warder spun to search for her. El'Verana simply sighed and bowed her head for a moment before making a small gesture with her hand. Both the Aes Sedai and her warder froze, as if held in place. 

"Oni, you were told the West Wing! Now we are going to have to negotiate...," El'Verana started in an exasperated tone. Then she shifted, as something the Aes Sedai had done caught her attention. "Verin, I am not a darkfriend, Shadowspawn nor am I risking you or your warder’s life. You can't harm me so knock it off. This situation is more complicated, more nuanced... Now, Let's not get irrational; we need to keep an open mind..."

"They are darkfriends," Oni interrupted. This was no time for negotiations. "I could see it on them the moment I saw them." 

El'Verana had enough time to turn and look at Oni in surprise before Verin struck, and El'Verana was thrown across the floor. The warder flowed towards Oni like water in a rapid. Oni threw the Akien-Mandarb and put to use the skills Deas and Padro had taught her. 

The warder stuck the dagger away, but Oni brought it back to her side and had it spinning again. She took a moment to enjoy the warders look of uncertainty before she had her weapon darting at the man again. Over and over, it flew, like a serpent's tongue flickering to taste the air. The warder kept the blade form his flesh adeptly, but a look of concentration covered his face. Once it was joined by a sheen of sweat, Oni Shadow-stepped behind him, and used the other end of the rope to truss up the man like a pig for market.

"Thomas!" 

Oni hesitated, her eyes looking up to see Verin looking directly at her. She had one hand up towards El'Verana, who was pinned against the wall by some force Oni couldn't see. Verin's other hand raised towards Oni, and she knew this was the last of it. Except El'Verana's feet fell to the floor just as Verin started her gesture. Oni wasn't sure what happened, but a look of horror and loss filled Verin's face. 

"Wait, wait, wait... look, you said you wanted an open mind, my mind is open! As you mentioned, this situation is nuance," Verin stammered out. 

"Oni, are you sure they are darkfriends?" El'Verana asked, her voice steady now that the fighting had stopped. Oni nodded.

"To study the Shadow! I swear, it is only to study the Shadow. Someone needs to..., I can prove it! It is why I am here. I have the Nomrom!" 

That last was to Oni. She paused, something tickling the back of her mind. Wait, was that the Trolloc tongue?

"What in Light's name is the Nomrom?" El'Verana asked. 

"It's one of the only books written in the Trolloc tongue," Verin continued, one word running on to another. "It details some of their histories, their beliefs and crucially, the part you both appear in, their prophecies. It means...," 

"'The Knowledge'," Oni finished for her. "It means 'The Knowledge'." 

Chapter Text

"Trollocs have prophecies?" Sef asked, with much more credulity than El'Verana felt. El'Verana had seen Trollocs; it was hard to believe they had any thought past killing.  

"More than just prophecies," Verin answered, managing to inject some enthusiasm into her tone despite still being hold in place with El'Verana's bonds of Air.

"They have a bizarre mix of histories, etiquette, even philosophies..., albeit one that is tinged with the inescapable hunger and desire for violence that Trollocs live with. It makes for fascinating, if unsettling reading..." she seemed to realise that the only person who seemed interested was Sef, and that she was still confined in Air. 

"We can help each other," Verin insisted. "We are all here with some... unorthodox ways, trying to combat the Shadow in a way the forces of Light most often... doesn't." 

"I'm trying to hide from the Dark One, not fight the Shadow," Oni rasped out. 

"I have to agree," El'Verana answered wryly. "I did not live to this age by deciding to fight battles I cannot win. The Dark One is a fact of life and won't be taken down by anything short of the Dragon. Why should I help you?" 

But Verin wasn't paying attention to her anymore. A small finger was extended, as if to keep her as a placeholder. El'Verana raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Even captured, Aes Sedai will try and walk all over you. It's that Tower arrogance, all over again. 

"Hide from the Dark One, but not fight the Shadow? You, my dear, may be one of the few living things that can truly know of the distinction between the Dark One and the Shadow," Verin answered. 

Oni shifted her face in what El'Verana had started to recognise as the girl’s version of blinking in surprise. It was interesting to see that in a person without eyes. 

"No-one suffers the Dark One's cruelty as much as the forces Shadow does. This is obvious," Oni answered, in a tone someone might have when trying to explain that water was wet. It was interesting to hear her perspective on this. El'Verana had to admit she had never considered it that way. 

"Most people are too concerned by the suffering they experience from the forces of the Shadow," Padro interjected wryly. "It's hard to feel bad for them when you are worried yourself or your loved ones might end up being cooked in a pot." 

"Which is something the Nomrom touches on, I can... can you please let me down? It's hard to have a good faith discussion under these circumstances." 

Despite herself, El'Verana barked out a laugh. She couldn't help herself. She waved her hand and dismissed the flows of air and shield. She counted herself a good judge of character, and this Verin was more librarian than spy. She looked towards Oni, who had Verin's warder tied up on the floor with her boot on his back. For a moment El'Verana wondered how Oni had done that, then realized it was that stupid rope-dart thing Padro and her were so fond of. At least she got a chance to try out that thing, El'Verana thought to herself. When she indicated that Oni should let him go, the world's only female Myrddraal didn't look to happy to let him go. After glancing at the warder's face, El'Verana agreed with her. Fury and contempt etched every line of that hard face. 

"Just make sure your warder understands we are trying to make friends here," El'Verana told Verin. 

"Thomas, you heard them," Verin said. Thomas's expression did not change, however. His face was still hard as stone as Oni unwound the rope holding him. He got to his feet but had sheathed his sword. Glaring at Oni, he finally spoke.

"This one has betrayed the Great Lord," he ground out. Oni raised her chin defiantly. 

"And so will you...," she replied, her hand caressing the hilt of her rope-dagger thing. "...Or was that all a lie." 

"It was no lie," Verin said sharply, and wove a particular weave that El'Verana had never seen before. The weave settled on Thomas, who shook for a moment, then his jaw clenched, and his fists tightened. 

"We will remain darkfriends and swear to the Shadow only until we have brought information that can hurt the Dark One. I swear it," Verin intoned. She stepped forwards to place her hand on Thomas's shoulder. The weave around him intensified and drew tighter. Thomas's face went slack, and the tension built in his body drained away nothing. 

"I swear it," he said, in a flat tone. 

El'Verana caught Verin's eye but said nothing. Some form of compulsion, perhaps augmented by the bond, she surmised. Not the most morally pristine thing she had ever seen an Aes Sedai do, but she had never been fond of moral absolutism. It did prove that Verin was telling the truth. Or at least, is willing to force one Darkfriend into turning to the Light. Maybe even against his will.

"Well, I can say for certain that you have my attention, and this ball had gotten dull anyway. Did you say the prophecy mentioned me?" She didn't wait for Verin's nod. "Excellent! We can go to my study, and you can tell me all about it." 

***

They all gathered around the big mahogany desk that dominated El'Verana's study in the East Wing. Thomas and Oni eyed each other warily, with Padro looking nonchalant between them. The occasional glances he threw them both told Sef that he was still keeping his guard up; he probably wasn't sure which one he trusted least. Who would be the most likely to turn to the dark? One born to it, or one who chose that life?

By contrast, El'Verana and Verin were babbling away excitedly as they poured over the scroll that was criss-crossed with an angular and sharp lettering Sef didn't recognise. The paper of the scroll was so poorly made the edges were fraying into individual fibres. 

Sef contended herself with being sat on her chair, scratching Princess behind the ear. The rat had a look of bliss on her face, as she lounged on Sef's skirt. Pebbles sat at the shoulder and would occasionally demand attention in the form of gentle peck to her shoulder, at which point Sef would be obligated to give him a nut from a bowl at the table. There was no malice in the peck, nor was he particularly greedy. Sef suspected he just didn't like that Princess was getting so much affection. He had been kind enough to bequeath Sef some small stones, which she refused to brush off her skirts; it seemed ungracious.

"There! See," Verin finally said, pointing triumphantly. "Beneath and in between all the 'Blood this' and 'Eat that', they talk about 'She who is richest in all the unclaimed lands will provide refuge to the abomination', the abomination being your dear friend here," Verin said, nodding towards Oni. 

Charming, Sef thought. Oni didn't react, but she was looking at the script with interest. Sef wondered if Oni could read it. 

"'The abomination will bring those of the Great Lord's army without stomach to fight away from both the Light and the Great Lord,'" Verin paused, and moved her hands as if trying to grasp a difficult concept. "We have to understand that these are the Trolloc's words. Taking the fight away from the Dark One and the Light would be impossible, as both of them exist everywhere in the world, so this is already a bit confusing. In effect, it means having killed any who will not fight for the Dark One."

She went on "'For the abomination has thrice known both the Highest Cruelty of the Great Lord and the Light, and will inflict those Cruelties onto her charges,'" Verin finished, putting her hand on the table and looking directly at Oni. 

"This takes some understanding, but earlier in this passage it describes the Great Lord's 'Highest Cruelty' as betrayal; specifically someone betraying you, you betraying someone else and a betrayal of yourself. It has a much deeper meaning than that, betrayal being a larger part of Trolloc worldview than it is ours.”

“Why is that?” El’Verana asked of Verin, but it was Oni who answered.

“Betrayal is all that we live with. Betrayal that those who created us do not love us.”

“In contrast,” Verin went on, incurious to Oni’s insight. “'The Light's Highest Cruelty' is described as love; again specifically, a mother's love, a fraternal love, and a lover's love,'" Verin said.

"Have you experienced all of those, dear," she asked, in an almost shy voice. 

Oni’s dank black hair dipped as she nodded, and in a soft voice responded, “Two of those, for certain. Fraternal love ”

Sef felt herself blush furiously, and rushed to interject. I do not enjoy my love life being part of a centuries old text, thank you very much.

"All of this is an incredible stretch. There is nothing in there about this abomination being a Myrddraal, or the woman Myrddraal. If they wanted it known, why wouldn't they just say that? Why make it so vague?"

"Because if they knew, they would kill her when she was first born," Verin answered. "I feel like I have been unclear. This prophecy talks about how Oni is going to kill all the Shadowspawn who don't want to fight against the Light." 

That caused the room to momentarily fall into silence, until it was broken by a single word. 

"No," Oni said, in a tone that was half denial, half accusation. 

"'Away from both the Light and the Great Lord', Oni. That can only mean death, as both the Light and the Dark One are everywhere in this world." 

"The Light and the Dark One are both there in death too," Sef said softly. "That's why he is called 'The Father of Death', and why the Light shines on us even in death." 

Verin blinked in surprise, although whether that was because Sef had spoken up or because she had seen something Verin hadn't was unclear. 

"All right, I suppose that is true, but... I mean, what else could it mean?" 

"I can't help but notice that I am only mentioned in one line," El'Verana pointed out dryly. "This seems like a flimsy excuse to seek me out." 

"Do you have any idea how rare Trolloc prophecies are, especially ones that make any sense at all?" Verin asked incredulously. 

"This one doesn't make sense," Oni hissed. "Why would I kill Shadowspawn who don't want to fight?" 

"Besides, a fun academic exercise this might be, but we have other priorities right now. Oni still has to find my nephew's killer," El'Verana said, with a side long look at Oni. 

Oni's head tilted, and in Sef's lap Princess snuffled. Pebbles gave a quick squawk too. 

"They say they have found them, but it won't be easy to get. Apparently, it is in a safe," Oni responded. 

"Thomas can help with that!" Verin offered, far too enthusiastically. "He's an expert safe cracker." 

Thomas looked like he was less than happy to be volunteered for this new job, but he didn't argue. Oni gave him a suspicious look. Sef suspected neither were going to enjoy working together. 

Chapter Text

In the darkest corners of the decrepit district of Westtown, Oni and Thomas traversed the shadows with ethereal grace. Few wondered the cobblestoned streets of this distrcit so late at night; it was an invitation to be robbed. Instead they scamppered over the tiled rooftops, jumping across the narrow streets and alleyways. They weren't much of a leap. Nonetheless, with the threat of discovery so remote, the tension between the two grew. In stony silence they observed from their concealed vantage point on the terracotta rooftops of Kattar.

Regular bathing with Sef had changed Oni. Her silken hair cascaded like a waterfall of darkness, held back by her blindfold that hid her eyeless face.  Her delicate fingers clutched the hilt of her Akien-Mandarb, her talon-like nails not hampering her one bit. Thomas hunkered beside her, his colour shifting cloak hid him as well as Oni ever could hide. He was a grizzled man in his forties, and despite looking nothing like him, something in his movement reminded Oni of Deas. It didn’t endear him to her.

Beneath them they could see through the window the barrack in which the scarred Town Guard was sat, drinking uproariously with his friends. Watching him enjoy his night made Oni’s heart hurt dully. I have friends now. I should be enjoying time with them. Admittedly, she wasn’t sure this was the way she would spend time if she could. But Sef might like it. She seemed fond of wine.

“So why can’t you just Shadow Step across the canal?” Thomas finally asked, in a transparent attempt to clear the air. “I was always curious.”

Oni felt the furrows of her face bunch in what would have been glare if she had eyes. This was no time for idle chatter. She answered tersely.

“Stepping into the Shadow Realm robs you of any control. It is impossible to know where you would come out, but it is most likely you will come out underwater. No Myrddraal would risk it.”

Thomas cast her a glance, one tinged with contempt.

“The Great Lord’s Lieutenant,” he pondered as if to himself.  “So fear and revered by us mere mortals… yet so afraid of a little water.”

Oni heard the envy in Thomas’s tone and felt her own contempt rise.

“Do you know why we have that fear? Your ‘Great Lord’ gave it to us! At great cost to him. He makes his Trollocs do it, not because it is useful, but to hurt us.”

She hated talking about this. Hated having to relive it in this way. But something in Thomas inflamed her irritation. You could have been anything, and you chose to follow the Dark One, you idiot. She drew in a shuddering breath before she went on.

“It doesn’t make sense tactically, it does nothing but hurt his cause. He did it because he hates us, but not as much as he hates you. And I don’t mean you humans, I mean you ‘Friends of the Dark’. You are the lowest of the low to him, and it is contemptible that you would still give up your soul for him. Even Shadowspawn see you as less than the enemies they eat. Think on that when you consider what ‘reward’ you can expect from your service.”

Thomas scoffed, as Oni knew he would. Darkfriends always thought they were the exception, and that the rules would not apply to them. A part of her hoped she would be there to see when he learned different.

The scarred town guard eventually left, stumbling out of the barracks. He walked, glancing over his shoulder. No doubt he could feel Oni’s gaze on him, but without being able to see her it would just feel like an unsettled feeling in the darkness that lurked around him. Moonlight played upon the subtle glimmers of sweat on his furrowed brow. Silently, Oni and Thomas followed him.

They watched as around the corner of the barrack he pushed within a hollowed-out niche in the cobblestone wall, until there was an audible click. The stone came apart, and there was the small safe that Princess and Pebbles had described. Oni didn’t see the trick to opening the niche, but Thomas made a sound as if he recognised it.

The two stalkers waited until the guard departed for the night, his echoing footsteps dissipating into the distance. Their eyes never left the now hidden portion of wall. Once the guard was out of earshot, Thomas emerged from the shadows, his cloak rippling like an ethereal wave. Deft and fast movements of his hands worked at the portion of wall, until the same click sounded. The next bit took longer, but soon Thomas was bouncing a pouch in his hand.

“Found it!” He exclaimed in delight. A wicked grin curled upon his lips as he turned to look at Oni. “That should do. You got her now?”

It took a moment for Oni to realize that he wasn’t talking to her. He wasn’t even looking at her. With a sinking heart she knew what was happening.

“I believe that’s enough for us,” a woman’s voice spoke out. Not Verin, another woman. She spoke from the Shadows, and Oni felt the itch of a woman embracing the source. “I’ll take it from here.”

No, Oni thought to herself as she was bound in flows of air.

"Verin can never know," Thomas told the new woman. The other Aes Sedai. Oni looked in her direction, but only saw a woman cloaked in black robes, layered to hide even her figure.

"I don't see why she should," the other woman responded. There was a musing tone in her voice, one Oni didn't like. The Aes Sedai's hand rose elegantly, then twisted. Oni felt a sharp pain in her foot, and openned her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

"This little bitch betrayed the Great Lord," the Aes Sedai hissed out. "She deserves a little... punishment."

Oni felt her heart spike with adrenaline and told herself it was a desire for vengence. Besides her, Thomas huffed a small laugh. "Whatever you need to tell yourself..,"

Oni ignored him, ignored the pain in her ankle, ignored them all. She let her mind drift, felt the darkness around her. She could feel it's inky blackness cloak her, feel herself drift in it. In short, she could feel the Shadow Realm. She allowed herself to fall backwards into it. It was a Shadow Step, just not one she had done before. She heard the Aesd Sedai frustrated cry as the bonds of air lifted gently away from her bdoy.

Then she was falling, drifting, and riding the thunder. It wasn't as smooth as Deas had been, if smooth it could be called. The gateways spun around her, almost imperceptible. She wasn't sure how long she fell, trying to control her descent, until she saw what she was looking for. One of those pointy, hard bits of shadow. The broken stones, with thier indecipherable runes. Oni didn't know what was there, but it had to be better than facing her stalker. She let herself fall towards it.