Ely edit 29 Jul 2021:
1-6 qps, depending on length and quality.
Potential +1 qp: if part of a series: o
Total: 1 qps
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"Shut that flaming window, will you lad?"
Asahel reluctantly closed the shutters, fiddling as much as he dared. His father, Thrael, had dragged the plow inside. The gale was fierce for this time of the year. Asahel knew what that meant. Thunderstorms.
"It'll be frost all night. Go water the crops, quick. What's left of them anyway." Asahel went without a word. The old man's mood seemed dark as the billowing clouds outside. He would cheer up after supper, once he'd settled by the fire. Until then, Asahel was glad to be out of the way. The farm was small and his two older brothers were away - Therel off to fight Seanchan at Amador's borders, and Andael living with the village blacksmith as his apprentice.
At harvest time last month, it had been just like old times. The firelight late into the evening, Therel playing his flute when he wasn't telling them stories about his regiment, and Andael roasting potatoes with a bashful smile on his face as their neighbour's daughter Alexi sat by his side. Thrael had nodded at Alexi's mother Ellaren, and that had put an end to the teasing. Asahel realised he was humming.
Outside, Asahel listened for a moment. The sheep in the barn were bleating restlessly. He went over to murmur soothing words to them. The gate wobbled as he shut it behind him. He frowned, wondering whether to tell Father tonight or whether the gate would hold through the storm.
The wind rumbled louder, and Asahel felt the chill cut into his skin. Hurrying a little, he watered the crops quickly, making sure each spot got the right amount of water. Finally, it was done. He straightened his stiff back and only then heard the commotion. Sprinting to the fence, he peered down the road.
Four men in shining white cloaks were tugging at a girl even as a woman's voice pleaded loudly, "Don't take her, please don't." It was Ellaren.
"By the Light, woman, let go," one man said. His helmet sat crookedly, thought Asahel, wondering why the Children had come.
But Ellaren only wailed louder, "She's a good girl. She's my sweet girl."
Asahel finally glimpsed the face of the girl. His heart hammered as he seen Alexi. Without thought, Asahel vaulted over the fence and ran towards them.
"Stop," he said loudly, wishing his voice didn't crack with tension. "Where are you taking her?" He tried to stand as tall as he could. He remembered desperately the great strides Andael took when he walked. Andael, his mighty brother who was afraid of no one.
One of the Children shoved him. He fell on the ground as they finally pulled Alexi free from her mother's grasp. Asahel watched them drag Alexi to a wagon, watched Ellaren screaming as she ran after them, and only later, much later, noticed that blood was streaming down his head from where he had fallen on a rock.
By the time he stood up and stumbled back home, Ellaren had roused the neighbourhood. Asahel watched the emotions pass through them. Fear of the Children. Fear for their children. The farmers muttered and shook their head. The younger children looked confused. Ellaren was distraught. Asahel said nothing, but he went into the attic and he found his father's old sword. The real sword. Thrael watched him bring it out, watched him wipe it clean, and said nothing. At the last moment before he left, Thrael called to him, "Asahel."
Asahel stopped but didn't turn. Thrael said, "Hesitate and you lose." Asahel nodded once, and left.
When he reached the blacksmith's house, he found that Andael had already set off. He begged the blacksmith the use of his mare and rode at a pace he knew the mare couldn't keep up. There was no way he was letting Andael fight this alone. At least he knew that Andael wouldn't have gone far in the storm.
Andael was the stronger, but Asahel rode better. Long before Andael reached the gates of Amador, Asahel had caught up. When they reached, it was late into the night. The two brothers dismounted simultaneously at the gate, and walked up to the guard.
"Brother, we want no trouble, but the Children took a girl from our village, and we mean to take her back," Asahel said. The guard opened his mouth, then took one look at Andael's determined jaw. "You interfere with Children's business, it's your neck on the line," the guard opened the gate, and they walked in.
There were many guards after that, and finally they were ushered into the room with one Inquisitor.
"Her name is Alexi, daughter of Ellaren," Asahel repeated the story patiently. Unlike the other guards, the Inquistor didn't just try to dissuade them. "You wish to plead for her innocence? A girl who is tainted by darkness?"
Asahel hadn't thought Andael could look that grim. But he himself was struggling to keep the venom out of his voice. "She has done nothing wrong. If you knew her, Inquistor..."
The Inquistor only smiled. "Why don't we let the Light decide if she is innocent or not?"
"What do you mean, Inquisitor?"
"Let there be a trial of the Light. One of you will fight one of my best soldiers. If you win, the girl is free to go with you."
"And if we lose?"
"The Light is merciful. She will be hanged at dawn. But you will be allowed to leave." The Inquistor's smile widened, "Well, the one that survives that is."
This time it was Andael who spoke, his voice breathless but gruff, "Agreed."
The Inquistor walked them to a tournament ground and summoned a boy, "Call Squadman Therel"
****
Three years had passed, but Asahel had not forgotten. What tormented him the most was not Alexi's pale face as she was dragged away, or Andael's great cry as he fell to Therel's blade. Nor was it his father's face when they buried Andael in the backyard. It was Ellaren's piercing cry - always Ellaren - as she wept without even a body to hold and grieve. They had packed their things and caught the first wagon riding north to Old Manetheren - he and Thrael and Ellaren. How could they keep living in a village that held such grief for them? How could they live in a village where their own flesh and blood had been murdered? On the road to Emond's Field, they found they weren't the only ones - refugees escaping the persecutions of the Children. In time, Thrael and Ellaren had learned to work another man's farm, and they lived comfortably in a small cottage. But the times were hard, and there was not much money in farming.
Asahel had become friendly with a commander of the Red Eagle's - Lea. From her he heard tales of fighting the Shadow and how the old blood called her to fight. It reminded him of Therel, his lost brother.
"Are you not afraid of Dreadlords, Lea?" He asked her one day.
"No," she said, "For we often have Aes Sedai by our side, and even the Dreadlords fear them."
"Who are Aes Sedai?" he asked.
Lea smiled. "Why, they are women who can channel the One Power."
That night, Asahel had a dream. In his dream he saw Alexi being chased by the Children. But this time Alexi ran until the storm turned her into a bird, and she flew away.
****
Another year passed, and Asahel was now as skilled with the sword as any man in Emond's Field was with a quarterstaff, and that was saying something. He had also learned to match Lea drink for drink, and that was saying a lot more. "Who is that man?" said Asahel one day, pointing to a drunkard at the far corner. Lea smirked. "You've noticed him have you?" "Yes, he seems to be just some drunk, but I saw him fight the other day, and he is definitely a Blademaster!" "That's Koschei...he is a Warder."
And so Asahel learned about Warders.
****
In time, Asahel was riding with Lea to the North, and had learned to do battle against Trollocs and the Eyeless. One day, a man who looked to be marshalling troops spotted him. "We need reinforcements in Lockshear - go join the Cavalry there," said Lord Marshall. Asahel saluted, and rode off to the Gap. He had to fight past four trollocs before he reached the Southern Gate. Once there, he spotted the Eyeless known as Razhak consorting with an evil infamous woman named Ilsae. The area was surrounded by Lockshear guards, and Shienaran soldiers, but no one seemed ready to enter her lair.
Suddenly, a portal opened, and a group of soldiers entered, followed by a short waif of a woman in a green dress. Something about her stirred Asahel's memory. But there was no time to think, only to fall in line with the men guarding her, and jump to the task at hand.
****
A year passed. Asahel was now at ease leading sorties from Fal Dara. At times he followed Lea or Marshall into battle, but if they were defeated, he would instantly take command where it was needed. If the Lord Davor was stuck inside camp, cursing at all and sundry for assistasnce, he could rely on Asahel to hit the entrance for him! And if Lord Ragyn was dying because his Aes Sedai's life force had been drained by the Shadow, Asahel would not hesitate to jump into the fray. If Gaidin Ryzom would stumble into a trap that seemed all-to-frequent, Asahel would surely lend a hand to save him!
Then one day as he was brushing down his horse (a fine bloodstock stallion), he noticed the green Aes Sedai (for that is who she was) looking at him appraisingly.
"Greetings Aish Sedai, how may I serve?"
"Very well, it would seem," she said. "Speak to Lord Marshall about training for the Gaidin - it is time you earned your place among them."
Asahel bowed his head, "If they find me as worthy as you do, Aish Sedai, then the Light willing, I will swear to protect and serve the Aes Sedai."
That night, for the first time in a long time, he dreamed of Alexi and he felt at peace. In the morning, he rode for Tar Valon, and the Warder's practice yard.
When things changed... --- &RPaward
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Re: When things changed...
A sad, but lovely tale and background.