[pfsb] the mirrors of the wheel

[blue_ajah]

The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and all things are part of the Pattern. There is little that she can do now but wait, guard against events worsening as best she can, and watch.

As a result, Moiraine is in the bar this evening, musing over her thoughts with a cup of tea at hand and a slender, leather-bound journal open to a blank page before her.

Comments

[blue_ajah]

"Not by that latter name, that I recall, but yes. I have." Moiraine looks up at him. "It has appeared in different ways in different worlds here, that I know as well. In the world where I was born, the Shadow's hounds pursue their prey under the direction of their leader, who himself has many names."

[bialy_wilk]

"They're after this person," the witcher says, blunt. "Been chasing them for years."

[blue_ajah]

She lets out a long, soft sigh, but there is no surprise in the dark eyes. "A close Mirror indeed," she murmurs. "Light illumine and protect this person, then. I presume you are intimately aware of the various dangers, if they are anything like those I have seen. Do you have good weapons against them?"

[bialy_wilk]

"No."

He's still never seen the weapon that can defeat the Hunt. "They die, sure. But they don't go down easy. Why this person's been on the run for so long."

[blue_ajah]

"No, I suspect they would not, at that. And if this person is not able to channel, or otherwise use their power under control..." She shakes her head.

[bialy_wilk]

"Control's always been a problem," he muses. "Even with the greatest sorceresses of their generation trying to help."

[blue_ajah]

There is something very wry about her expression. “I might surmise that they came to an awareness of their power on their own?”

[bialy_wilk]

His mouth tightens as he remembers the palace of Cintra, Pavetta in the middle of a windstorm of power.

"It's usually when they're frightened," he says, finally. "Hurt. Some big emotional shift. That's what triggers a Source."

[blue_ajah]

Understanding flickers in her eyes. “Fear,” she agrees. “Anger, even verging on rage. Desperation. One of the women I know, a young woman stronger in the Power than anyone in generations, struggled greatly in finding her way to channel without emotion lashing her.”

[bialy_wilk]

He nods, slowly. "The mages and sorceresses," he says. "They looked for Sources. Wanted to bring them to Aretuza and Ban Ard, teach 'em how to use their power. It never really worked, but that was the thought."

[blue_ajah]

“Why did it not work?”

She can think of several possible reasons, but better if he were to share his own.

[bialy_wilk]

"For most of them?"

He shrugs. "No idea. Best guess is because they don't use the power. It uses them. They're more like a... transmitter."

[blue_ajah]

She tips her head very slightly, considering that; considering him. "And your potential student?"

[bialy_wilk]

He breathes out, long, through his nose. "A special case. Most Sources, they let go, they can destroy a house, maybe a town. This one could bring about the end of the world."

A pause, before he goes on. "According to an old prophecy."

[blue_ajah]

"The Wheel weaves," she murmurs, "and all things are part of the Pattern. Such prophecies are often difficult to interpret, but there is peril in discarding them."

Considering, she recites, "The tides of men run out, and the hours dwindle. The wall is pierced, and the veil of parting raised. Storms rumble beyond the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the earth. There is no salvation without destruction, no hope this side of death."

Moiraine reaches for her glass and takes a sip of wine. "From the Karaethon Cycle. The Prophecies of the Dragon."

[bialy_wilk]

"Cheery," the witcher remarks, dry.

"Any of it come to pass?"

[blue_ajah]

She nods. “All that and more.”

[bialy_wilk]

"Hopefully the salvation along with the destruction." He turns his goblet on the table, slow.

"So this dragon show up?"

[blue_ajah]

"We were fortunate. And it was hard fought." She watches as he spins the goblet in a slow circle.

"He did. He was reborn as the prophecy held he would be." Something very wry shades her voice. "And still, it took me twenty years to find him."

[bialy_wilk]

"Hm." He frowns, slight, and gives her an inquisitive look.

"So... not a real dragon. Just the name?"

[blue_ajah]

"Perhaps title would suit better," she explains. "The first Dragon, Lews Therin Telamon, may have been so called for the massive amount of power that he held - enough to break the world. Which he did."

She gives a very slight shrug. "So when the Dragon was reborn, you may understand that the idea was far from welcome to many."

[bialy_wilk]

"I'm familiar with world-breaking power and some unwelcome ancestors," he tells her, dry. "Dragons, too. Though I wouldn't call any of them world-breaking, exactly. And in our case, it was a bloodline, not reincarnation."

[blue_ajah]

"'Of the ancient blood, and raised by the old blood,'" she murmurs. "Something of the sort, perhaps?"

[bialy_wilk]

"Something like that."

He looks back at the fire, still turning the goblet, before opening his mouth again. "'Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard," he says, the words familiar, falling easily off his tongue. "The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame."

The witcher looks back to her, expression shuttered. "Aen Ithlinnespeath," he tells her. "The prophecy of Ithlinne Aegli aep Aevenien. An elven sage."

[blue_ajah]

She listens fiercely, trying to commit his words to memory. "Not an easy thing to bear," the Aes Sedai murmurs, when he is finished. "Far from it. But it may be that there is hope in it, too, from what you have said."