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Prophecy Under the Nose
Mon Apr 10, 2006 13:57 (XFF:

As she approached the site of the patient-in-process-of-being-tended-to, her ball of Fire floated with her, brightening the air tenfold than what light the Wise One’s lamps of gara-oil—oil from the poisonous lizards that resided in the Three-fold Land—provided. Berys gave a grunt of appreciation as the brighter light better revealed her work. “Do no try to move again,” she said firmly, addressing her command to the man laying with his back to the ground, “I have never seen wounds such as these and I do not want you doing more harm to yourself than is possible.” Menaihya agreed. Her gaze was cool as she regarded the shards of sharp….metallic pieces that had been extracted from the man’s flesh, and if it were not hard enough making out what they were with crimson blood smeared over everything, the pieces were entirely foreign to her knowledge. What sort of spear would…?

Her gaze was cool, but it hid the surprise within.

She directed her line of sight to the man himself as he began speaking. Such strange things he spoke of, not to mention his accent was decidedly confounding…! His dialect of the Common Tongue was harder to make out than that of the Seanchan novices she had taught an embracing lesson to, years ago. “—well whatever the case you need to take me to the nearest United States military base—” Menaihya shook her head; this was the queerest enigma she had ever chanced to come across. Her conclusion of the man was that he was thoroughly instable of mind, due to several factors; having beaten and bloodied enough to make one wonder how exactly he had the strength to speak now, much less gain consciousness, his head might have been damaged, perhaps dealt with a concussion. That combined with laying out in the dry lands for quite the juncture of time, if the peddler’s words were truth…

“I’ve seen a face like yours before, ageless and beautiful.” He was looking straight up at her, his eyes far too stable to be that of a madman. As he continued speaking in that hoarse voice, one of his digits pointed disturbingly at her, she could only stare back, her face entirely blank. Thoughts roiled within. Dream, stone column… What in the name of the Light—? And then with a fluttering of his eyelids he let his raised arm limply drop.

“He has fainted again,” Berys commented with a twist to her lips, reaching for yet another sachet of herbs in her squat, “I am glad. His blabbering was distracting me, and he will not squirm around like a grey-nosed hare so much, either.” The words were as such, but Menaihya knew the woman was troubled as she. “There—,” the Wise One said as she gave a final pat to the knot she had given the binding to the temporary splint on the leg, “We have done as much as we can do, here and now. He will need to be carried. Baid! Baid!” A second later an Aielman materialized out of the shadowed darkness to stand before them, shoufa wrapped around his head and black veil hanging limply from his neck.

“Wise One, I am here,” he said, gaze still searching his surroundings as he shifted a horn bow in his grip.

“It is good to know you are not falling asleep in your post, Cor Darei,” Berys said dryly in addressing Baid of the Night Spear society of the Nine Valleys Taardad, without looking up, “This man needs to be carried into the city. Carefully now! If you undo the least of what I have administered here—!” The threat was left hanging, but the Aielman heaved the man up on his back without expression across the hard angles of his face. Soon enough they were leaving the slopes of Chaendaer behind and entering Rhuidean.

“It was not Aiel work,” Menaihya observed as she walked behind the silent procession with the fiery-haired Wise One. There was an implicit query in the statement, but it was more of just that, a statement, than a question, really.

In the relative darkness the woman’s frown was still evident. “It might be Shaido who did it,” she said at last, “But it is hard to believe the dogs would venture so close to Rhuidean in itself. But the wounds…”

“I know. They were not spear-wounds.” A silence lay over them for a while as they both contemplated the situation. “What he spoke of, about the stone column,” Menaihya said at last, “I will have to go examine, early in the morning. Everything else he said seemed ambiguous—the ramblings of a man who has lost too much blood—but that alone I have cause to believe has substance to it. The peddler mentioned a stone as well.” She turned her face towards the Wise One. “Have you heard of a stone column being around these parts, Berys?”

The woman scowled in her uncertainty. “Might be that I have heard Raul mention it a time or two in my presence, about some stone half-buried in the sand. He probably left it at that because things that look even close to an Aes Sedai-relic is best left alone.” She gave a fleeting glance towards her when she said that. “Well. You can ask Raul about it. He is Sha’mad Conde, Saturin’s son.”

Menaihya nodded, noting the name, but it was with a certain degree of distraction that she did so; something else pricked her mind at the present. Coincidence. It had to be a glitch in the pattern. Part of the materials she had requested from Neslie Boden had included just that: information on Portal Stones. If her suspicions were correct…

And speaking of the requested materials, Jachin Masson appeared in sight beside her as they rounded Rhuidean’s gates and entered into the courtyard whose centerpiece was a large stone fountain. “Menaihya Sedai,” he spoke, stealing half-worried glances at the Wise One as if afraid she’d strike at him or something of the sort, “I only came to do my part, to deliver your letter.” With that he cautiously took out a sealed envelope from within his person, “And now that I’ve done so, I believe I’m done here. By your leave, I…”

“Do you mean to brave the Three-fold Land in this dark, Master Jachin Masson?” Menaihya asked incredulously, pointing out the uniform black outside the gates.

“Well….no… But I would feel uncomfortable if…” The man’s reluctance at staying the night at an Aiel city was obvious. “If I may pitch a tent near your accommodations, I would be ever grateful…” It was nearly pitiful.

“I will have the arrangements made,” she replied without dallying, “Now, I wish to make a request of you, Master Peddler. At dawn I wish to visit the….site in which you found this man. This outlander. Would you be as kind as to show me the way in that hour?” The man complied, if not eagerly, swiftly enough to pacify the proper way in which to answer an Aes Sedai. Then he took his wagon away to pitch up his….tent.

After making sure that the wounded outlander was safely conducted to a room in the upper-story of a house near the central Avendesora tree, Menaihya made a brief visit to Raul, Saturin’s son, and received acquiescence that the young man would accompany her and the peddler tomorrow morning when she made the visit to the….stone. That done, she made her way to her own designated rooms, and having lighted a tallow candle—channeling a light was all good and fine, but there were extents to which a person channeled in the night—, she sat at her desk and finally broke open the seal to Neslie Boden’s letter. The green of her gaze swiftly ran down the lines scrawled in the Brown’s precise hand, until she reached the last paragraph:

You mentioned prophecies, Menaihya, it was written, and I thought to inform you of some interesting findings of mine from a few days ago. This was recorded in Aluve Maevra’s Foretellings—as you know, Aluve Maevra was a Brown half a century back with the Talent of Foretelling—and no one has researched much into it. I thought you might be interested.

Flung far from home this child of ours
Flung far from our embrace
Stolen by a stone when he was just a babe
Yet through the stone shall he come home
With seeming broken mind
Yet through it all one fact is clear
He remembers our face
Women’s White and Men’s Black
Will circled there upon his back

OOC: There. I hope I did that right. In the morning, when Aaron wakes up, Menaihya and the two men will be gone. She will be back in a short while, however.;)

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