Thread: The Wheel Weaves What The Wheel Wills (Ryees & darkangel76)

This was no coincidence. Trollocs did not gather like this. They did not attack like this. They did not hunt like this. Not without orders. And not without one one the ends of their leashes. Time slowed down and sped up all at once, the world slowing while Aermun accelerated, suspended in the blackness of his soul. Cat Crosses the Couryard. His posture was lax, arrogant almost, sword loosely held in front of him and body straight. He felt Caitrin leap away from him, and his void shook he knew she would last if she was channeling, but the familiar shhck! of a dagger leaving its sheath meant she was not using the Power. If he could have let out a guarded shout in that moment, he would have, but there was no time. In order to save her life, he had to maintain his, and the trio of trollocs bearing down on him was a detriment to that success. Apple Blossoms on the Wind . The shadowspawn stuttered to a halt as a slash meant for each of them lanced through the air in front of their noses. Aermun was already moving, within arm'sand sword'sreach within the second. Hummingbird Kisses the Honeyrose. A precise slash into the trolloc's eye sent it reeling. Kingfisher Circles the Pond. Aermun popped up on his toes and spun about, feeling the unevenness of the forest floor try and take his leg as he moved. A careful, higher step bounced his leg over the gnarled briar of a tree. Red Hawk Takes a Dove. A great downward slash rent the next trolloc from shoulder to hip, dribbling black blood into the ever-brighter glowing forest floor. Cat On Hot Sand. Practiced steps carried him forward and into a careful spin as he distanced himself from the third trolloc. Its comrades felled in seconds, it had not yet gathered the gall to attack him, and indeed seemed to be wavering still. A scream? Sounds permeated his void for the first time. His head whipped around, trying to find its source. Then, again, but louder, came the same scream. Caitrin. The thought hit him like a bull and smashed his void to pieces as he scrambled on the loose leaves of the forest floor in a mad dash towards the pool of fire Caitrin had been enclosed in. A number of trees had fallen, it seemed, imprisoning her in the most terrifying cell imaginable with the worst prison guards ever conceived. A sloppy execution of Parting the Silk dispatched the nearest trolloc, but his heart had replaced his head in the battle. The remaining trollocs saw him, and split, two staying to lord over Caitrin's personal fire while the other three ran him down. The first was met with the full fury of Aermun's frustration as The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain slammed repeatedly into its shoddy steel shield until its arm was bashed aside and a cut landed home. An unceremonious lash of Aermun's blade opened its throat, but left him exposed on his left side long enough for a great boar's head to connect with his chest. His light steel breastplate saved his ribs from breaking but left him with an extraordinarily uncomfortable lump in his armor as he flopped to the ground, luckily managing to regain his balance and roll with his momentum as an axe exploded into the ground his pelvis had so recently occupied. Aermun hastily seized his opportunity, surging forward and landing the only precise slash of fight so far as Hummingbird Kisses the Honeyrose lanced a clean hole in its throat. Aermun did not have time to finish it off, instead leaving it to scream on the forest floor as he abandoned it. The two trollocs standing over Caitrin had seen the result of the fight, and, enraged, had stepped around the fire to charge him, leaving Caitrin, now, unguarded. These two trollocs were the last thing standing between him and his Aes Sedai, and Aermun knew itbut he also knew he was waning. His stamina could only go for so long, and sloppy forms combined with the aching in his chest had left him heaving. Nevertheless, he rushed forward to meet them. The first swung out clumsily with its great mace, nearly connecting with Aermun's face save for the Warder's quick duck. A slash into its side found little purchase for the studded leather the trolloc wore, bouncing off the steel studding uselessly and careening aside. With a muttered curse, Aermun leapt back out of the way of another crushing slam, slicing through the beast's wrist. The beast screamed and tumbled aside just as its companion rushed forward with a great sledge of a blade, bringing it down directly at Aermun's head while the Warder's blade was uselessly out of the way after his slash at the previous trolloc's weapon arm. His mind dulled as soul-crushing defeat set in. Not only would his death here signify the failure of their mission, it would signify his failure to protect Caitrin. He was not sure if that stung worse than the acceptance of his death, but Aermun had accepted, by now, that it would not matter if he spent his last handful of living moments reflecting the philosophies of his failure. Fear and regret were the last things he felt, all for Caitrin fear of leaving her to the flames, regret that he was to leave her like this without at the very least bidding her farewell. A last vestige of defensive instinct, Aermun shouted and rose a hand into the path of the blade, screaming out as he felt liquid run hot in his palm, searing his hand with the pain. And then... the trolloc's attack stopped and it stumbled back, confused. The pain in his hand was immense, but he was... Alive? Why I am I...? Grim acceptance turned into furious hope in the blink of an eye as Aermun's baser instincts sensed weakness. With a bestial shout, he sprang forward and crammed his sword into the trolloc's chestpiece point to hilt, feeling the familiar sensation of sword piercing armor, bone, and heart, then coming out the back end, and knowing full well the shadowspawn would die where it fell. He ran. Aermun ran faster than he ever thought he could have towards the flaming nimbus, yanking his cloak from his back and holding it ready. The fire was hot in his face as he neared, giving the cloak a great sweep forward before throwing it down over Caitrin. His breastplate would keep him safe enough, he knew, to make a brief roll though the flame, and the cloak would keep the lapping flames away from her flesh long enough to clear of the fire. So he wrapped his arms around Caitrin and barrel rolled them aside, thudding to a halt just a few feet away, still very much in the searing heat of the fire. Aermun hauled them to their feet with little sympathy, draping the cloak evenly around her shoulders. His sword lay abandoned, still in the festering wound of the trolloc it was good Shienarian steel, but there were others like it out there. Let's go! he shouted frantically, snatching up Caitrin's hand. The stream trickled coldly through the icy night air, the shivering bite welcome after the heat they had endured. Aermun had left his cloak with Caitrin to keep her warm, leaving his Aes Sedai's side to sit by the stream alone, contemplative. The woods were burning in the distance, the pleasant smell of a campfire belying the actual devastation it inflicted just a mile away. Aermun had run them until they finally met up with the crook, collapsing into the clearing with heaving pants and lying in the cold dirt of the clearing for some minutes before finally collecting their head. Now, he sat on a stump next to the stream, staring at his hand. Staring at the now-cool metal that had been molten some minutes before, melted and twisted around his hand by... His hand had melted the steel. And thinking back on it, even though what he had done with his cloak had made sense, that did not account for the cloth of the cloak coming out completely unscathed, untouched by the burning fires. It didn't account for every hair on both his and Caitrin's face being unsinged by the flames they rolled through. Nothing accounted for it. Nothing that made sense, anyway.