he Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass leavingmemories that become legend, then fade to myth, and are long forgotten when that Age comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose along the coast of a large landmass. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
The wind was born eastward, across sprawling cities and small villages. Further east it sped, passing over ruins so long dead even their names were forgotten by all except a handful. Onward it flowed, beyond the walls of the great, shining white structure known as the Netland White Tower. It kissed the leaves of the Ogier grove and whistled though the windows, into a large, yellow painted hall. The heady scent of herbs linger in the air, eminating from a busy infirmary where the wounded and the ill are tended to by an army of Aes Sedai, dedicated to the cause of healing. An army of Aes Sedai, known only as the Yellow Ajah.
Although a sister of any Ajah may be a skilled Healer, what distinguishes the Yellows from the rest is their passion for Healing and for finding new cures. It was a sister of the Yellow Ajah, Nynaeve al'Meara, who first shattered assumptions held even during the Age of Legends that stilling could not be Healed.