( Author's Note )

A deep breath as he straightened the lace at his throat. Ma'alal was still asleep. She was exhausted, and as he had no need for her at the moment, it was best to simply let her sleep. A quick note to her would suffice.

~*~*~*~

To the Dreadlord Ma'alal ( Read more... )

The rain and the storm howled around them. The shield covering Asmodean kept the two of them largely dry. Trees loomed overhead. The Chosen's eyes darted back and forth. They were a good ways from the house, but they would make it within the hour at least.

That was not what worried him.

It had been a busy day, to be sure. A good kind of tired. The operation had been a stunning success. His own talents at destruction had made capturing the ter'angreal a matter of ease. The weather was a delicate affair. Di'aliz had spent weeks with diagrams and computer simulations to figure out exactly what to do ( Read more... )

The door to the dark snaps shut behind the pair. The room is well-lit by glow bulbs, and is elegantly furnished. White lacy curtains billow in the night air. Bookshelves full of music and books of poetry sit around an elegant sitting area. A small sculpture of butterflies formed of colored glass sits in the middle of the coffee table. Asmodean ( Read more... )

As the evening wore on, little changed. Asmodean continued to be absorbed by his music. Sitting and playing quietly, dark eyes glancing out the window as the rain fell quietly, the bard seemed to be nothing more than a moody musician. Nothing to hint that he was one of the Chosen ( Read more... )

His newest servant, he would give her a name soon enough for convenience if nothing else, had been in the bathroom for quite awhile. She was a bit emotional earlier and was probably crying herself to the point of exhaustion now. He could not say he particularly cared as long as she was strong when he needed her, but this had gone on far enough ( Read more... )

A portal spun open into the deserted house. Asmodean stepped out into the room. He had been putting this off long enough. It would only make it worse. A long sigh. It was for both of their good, really ( Read more... )

The soft sound of music filled the room. It was dark as he lounged in the window, lean body almost curled around the harp in his lap. Dark grey robe clung to his torso, though his fingers were hidden by the lace dripping out of the sleeves. A heart-shaped golden locket rested on his chest ( Read more... )

The Wheel of Time Turns.

The soft, slow sound of the waves. The Wheel turning with every slow steady throb.

Memory fades to legend.
Legend fades to myth.
Even myth is long forgotten..

But the ocean still remains, and so do those who belong to the ocean. To the turning of the Wheel. For whom the gritty feeling of moist sand between the toes is ( Read more... )