The Wheel of Time: Legacies
by PJ
 
 
Prologue:
 
Shayol Ghul
The Blight
1018 NE (New Era)
 
    The dark clouds hovering over Shayol Ghul flashed with blue lightning. Soft thunder
growled across the wide, desolate expanse of the Blight as the servants of the Dark One met within
the bowels of the tall mountain.
 
    "We have suffered much in the passing years," began Shaidar Haran, addressing the
assembled men and women within the pitch black council chamber.  The Halfman clasped his pale
hands behind his back, standing serenely within the shaft of white light that fell from the ceiling.
He moved his eyeless gaze over each of the Chosen and Darkfriends that stood like a fly in amber
in his or her own shaft of radiance.
 
    "The Bore has been re-sealed, our Dark Lord cannot command us as he once did before
Tarmon Gai'don.  We are alone.  We will not forsake our Master, however, we will continue his
work until a way can be found to free him from his eternal prison.  The Shadow has been driven
back, but it can never be destroyed."
 
    "We have lost many to the Last Battle, how do you intend to wage this new war against the
Light?" inquired one of the black robed Chosen, her face hidden by an ornate obsidian mask
carved to appear like a open mouthed spider.
 
    "We will adopt the methods you are so adept at," replied Shaidar, his chalk white face
contorting into an obscene parody of a smile.  "We will corrupt the forces of Light from within, we
will gnaw at them until they fall apart from the weight of their own sins.  We will work quietly,
from the shadows, in the dread silence of the night."
 
    The spider masked woman stood silently, but Shaidar could sense her eager anticipation,
she would willingly perform her part of the plan.
 
    "There is much to be done.  Go to your posts, execute the instructions I have given each of
you, then wait.  The Shadow is eternal, we can afford to be patient," said the Myrddraal before the
shaft of light around him disappeared, allowing him to be consumed by the waiting darkness.
 
 
    The peace of the grasslands north of Whitebridge was shattered by the loud crack of the
Pattern being torn asunder.  A tall grey pillar of stone inscribed with symbols and mysterious
figures burned with violet fire, the sizzling flame blasting high into the dimly lit dawn sky.  Two
female forms vomited out of the roaring flame before it collapsed as quickly as it had formed.  The
inscriptions upon the pillar shimmered with purple light, fading slowly away until the stone was
grey and dull once more.
 
    The raven-maned woman was the first to rouse herself, rising to her bare feet, her body
naked as the sun slowly rose over the horizon, bathing her slim, curvaceous form with warm,
golden light.  Lanfear inhaled the rich air deeply, relishing the sweet scent of the waving grass
around her.  She looked to her right, where Moraine lay on her side, her pale skin gleaming under
the rising sun.  Lanfear ached to kill the Aes Sedai, but something stopped her.  She raised her
head, probing with the One Power.
 
    "HE is gone," murmured Lanfear, dread prickling the skin across her bare back.  The
Forsaken extended her left hand, weaving with the Power to open a Gateway.  She looked back at
Moraine's comatose nude form, snarling with indecision as the portal opened onto the slopes of
Shayol Ghul.  Spitting at her unconscious adversary, Lanfear dove into the Gateway, desperate to
discover what had broken the Dark One's grip upon the world.
**********************
 
 
Chapter One
 
Fal Dara
Kingdom of Shienar
1018 NE
 
    Moraine al'Thor awoke to feel the sun warm against her brown skin.  The beautiful girl
quickly jumped from her bed, washing her face with a wet towel before climbing into her light
grey breeches, coat, and knee boots.  She flipped her braid of bright red hair away from her coat
collar, then slid her knives into their waiting sheathes on belt and boots. Moraine seized her short
battle spear from its resting place near the headboard of her bed, charging out of her small,
undecorated bedroom into the long hallway of the residential section of the fortress.  The tall girl
passed several Maidens of the Spear who urged her on, smiling with amusement at their spear
sister's habitual tardiness.  Moraine ran swiftly into the courtyard, brushing past several of the
fortress guard on her way through the open gates of the keep.
 
    The sun was several spans into the clear blue sky when Moraine joined her spear sisters
already in the middle of weapon practice.  Therava and Moderra were sparring with their spears,
glancing quickly at their friend as she slid to a halt, her sides heaving from the long run.
 
    "You've been warned about arriving late for practice," said Ailil, her blue eyes cold as she
regarded Moraine.
 
    "I am sorry," replied the warrior girl, her face blushing hot with shame.
 
    "Spar with me," ordered the blonde Maiden, yanking her spear from the ground, crouching
into an easy battle stance. 
 
    Moraine bent her knees, holding her spear in front of her with her right hand.  She slowly
reached to her waist with her left hand, drawing a dagger from a belt sheath. Ailil raised an
eyebrow, then slashed at Moraine with her weapon.  Moraine knocked the spear tip down, cutting
with her dagger at the same time.  The short blade bit into Ailil's right arm, drawing a thin line of
blood through her torn brown coat.  Ailil sniffed appreciatively, spinning her spear at Moraine,
both Maidens' spears ringing as they struck each other again and again. Moraine smacked Ailil's
spear up, following with a sharp kick to the back of the Maiden's right leg. Ailil fell to her knee, to
find Moraine's spear tip pressed against the skin of her throat.
 
    "Well done," smiled Ailil, rising to her feet.  "You escape punishment for another day."
 
    The watching Maidens slapped Moraine on the back, voicing their admiration of her spear
skill.  Moraine accepted their praise quietly, then joined Therava and Moderra for knife practice.
When the group broke for lunch, the three young Maidens found a small hill to rest and talk upon,
the immense wall of the Mountains of Dhoom rising before them.
 
    "A group of Maidens is going on patrol into the Blight tonight," said Therava, biting
fiercely into her breadroll.
 
    "Do you know who's going?" asked Moraine, drinking deeply from her water skin.
 
    "Yes, none of us," replied Therava angrily.
 
    "We're old enough to enter the Blight, we should be allowed to patrol with our spear
sisters," observed Moderra.
 
    "Could you talk to your mother?  She could override Ailil," suggested Therava with an
eager gleam in her eyes.
 
    "You know I don't like to do that," retorted Moraine, chewing a dried beef strip.
 
    "We'll never dance the spears if Ailil has her way," complained Moderra hopelessly.
 
    "I'll see what Mother will do," sighed Moraine, her own impatience for battle weighing
upon her.
 
 
    Moraine slowly walked down the torch lit hallway toward Lord Jagad's offices, where she
was told her mother was in attendance for another readiness session.  As the young Maiden
approached the guarded office doors, the portals swung open, disgorging a stream of officers,
advisors, and one woman dressed in a light brown skirt, blouse and shoes.  A shawl covered the
woman's head as Moraine tentatively drew near.
 
    "Mother?"
 
    Aviendha al'Thor looked up at her daughter, a slight crinkling of her eyes the only sign of
her pleasure at seeing her only child.
 
    "Moraine.  I hear you were late to battle practice again," rebuked Aviendha softly, walking
down the hall without waiting for her daughter to catch up.
 
    "I beat Ailil when we spear danced, she was very pleased," retorted Moraine defensively,
matching her mother's long strides.
 
    "Skill at spears does not release you from your toh to Ailil," replied Aviendha sharply.
 
    "You are right, Mother," said Moraine, bowing her head.
 
    "You came here for a reason," prodded Aviendha, stroking Moraine's hair affectionately.
 
    "I want to go with the patrol into the Blight tonight.  Therava and Moderra also want a
chance to dance the spears for real."
 
    "The Blight is a very dangerous place.  It is not a playground for young girls barely old
enough to wear a shoufa."
 
    "I've learned all I can from Ailil and the other teachers, I have to dance in battle with a real
enemy."
 
    "Moraine," whispered Aviendha, her eyes moist as she caressed her daughter's smooth
brown cheek, her hair fiery just like her father's.
 
    "Mother, please," begged Moraine.
 
    "Very well, you and your friends may join the patrol tonight, may the Light forgive me,"
smiled Aviendha wanly.
 
    "Thank you, Mother!" smiled Moraine, kissing her mother's left hand before rushing down
the hall to gather her two waiting friends.
 
    "Guard her well, my husband," murmured Aviendha, watching her lithe daughter depart.
 
 
    The night was clear and cool, the stars twinkling merrily overhead as the Maidens chosen
for patrol duty left the Aiel camp north of Fal Dara for the wide mountain pass called Tarwin's
Gap.  The Maidens stalked across the barren foothills, their shoufas wrapped around their faces,
spears at the ready, as they made their way to the pass.  Moraine advanced with Therava and
Moderra, her two friends tense with caution yet excited at the possibility of dancing the spears for
real with their spear sisters.  The Maidens arrived at Tarwin's Gap without incident, passing
through into the endless sterile waste known as the Blasted Lands.
 
    *Stay watchful,* warned Ailil through Maiden Speech, a complex series of gestures with
her deft fingers.  Moraine hefted her short spear, her gold-green eyes searching the flat desolation
for prey.
 
    The Trollocs attacked without warning, lunging from the sharp cracks adorning the dry
dusty ground of the Blasted Lands.  Ailil and the older Maidens charged the Trollocs with equal
ferocity, slashing out with spears and long knives.  Two boar-headed Trollocs struck at Moraine
and her friends, hacking down with wide bladed battle axes.  The young Maidens dodged the
powerful blows, stabbing forward with their spears, punching the razor sharp tips through the
Trollocs' crude leather armor.  Moraine twirled around as a snake headed Trolloc slashed at her
with two tarnished long swords.  The Maiden drew a dagger from her left boot, hurling it into the
Trolloc's wide chest.  The monster staggered back, then swung his blades in a dizzying blur,
forcing Moraine to parry as best she could with her short spear.  Moraine slammed her right boot
into the Trolloc's crotch, making the snake head hiss loudly, his reptilian eyes widening in agony.
Moraine slashed across the paralyzed Trolloc's throat with her spear, the sharp blade cutting easily
through his scaly hide.  Hot green blood spurted from the Trolloc's mortal wound, splashing over
Moraine's face and chest.  Moraine wiped the foul ichor from her mouth, turning to see how her
spear sisters fared.
 
    Dozens of Trollocs poured onto the plain, attacking the retreating Maidens without respite.
Several Maidens fell to Trolloc blades and axes as Moraine watched in horror. She brandished her
spear, determined to aid her spear sisters to the end.  The young Maiden rejoined Therava and
Moderra, who now limped from a deep gash on her right thigh.
 
    "Moraine!  What should we do?" gasped Therava, blocking a Trolloc's powerful sword
blow before slashing his stomach open with her blood slick spear.
 
    "Where's Ailil?" shouted Moraine, helping Moderra to fight off a bear-faced attacker.
 
    "Moraine!  Therava!  Get away from here!  Warn the others!" exclaimed the golden-haired
Ailil, her forehead bleeding from an ugly sword cut.  A boar-faced Trolloc took advantage of
Ailil's distraction, raising a spear over his head, then plunging the weapon through Ailil's back, the
gore-adorned tip emerging from the limp woman's belly.
 
    "Ailil!" screamed Moraine, her lungs aching with sorrow.  A powerful blow smashed
against the back of Moraine's head, sending her sprawling forward onto her stomach.  Moraine
looked up with bleary eyes, her vision fading as she watched Therava and Moderra clubbed down
by their Trolloc opponents.  Moraine looked over the scene of carnage, only the three of them
survived, all of the other Maidens had fallen bravely in battle.
 
    "Mother," groaned Moraine before the pain overcame her, plunging her into darkness.
 
 
    Moraine moaned softly as awareness returned.  She examined her surroundings, finding
herself in a large cave that opened out into the cold night air washing over the Blight.  A large
bonfire filled the mouth of the cave, where a group of Trollocs feasted on the remains of her spear
sisters.  Moraine gulped, fighting down the bile that threatened to escape from her trembling lips.
One of the boar-faced Trollocs approached Moraine, bits of brown flesh dangling from his tusked
maw.  He wiped his mouth with one of his leather clad arms, sniffing at Moraine with his moist
wide snout.  The Trolloc grunted loudly, discarding the bare leg bone in his claw, reaching
forward towards the bound Maiden.  Moraine struggled violently within the Trolloc's grip as the
creature tore off her breeches, exposing her slim firm brown legs.  The Trolloc held Moraine's
snarling face in his left claw while he slapped her legs apart with his right, kneeling between her
open thighs.  Moraine's wrists writhed in their tight cord bindings as the boar-faced Trolloc
slammed his huge engorged cock into her small pussy.  Moraine screamed when the Trolloc ripped
her hymen, his long shaft stabbing violently into her womb.  The Trolloc grunted as he rutted with
Moraine, his powerful thrusts making the girl's thighs vibrate with each impact.  He tore open
Moraine's coat, fondling her small caramel-hued tits with his cruel right claw. Moraine panted
harshly, sweat gleaming on her face as the Trolloc between her legs thrust again and again into her
young cunt, the walls of her vagina vice-tight around his stiff pole.
 
    The Trolloc orgasmed quickly, removing his cock to spill his sticky cream over Moraine's
clenched belly and smooth thighs.
 
    Moraine lay back limply against the cavern wall, forced to watch as two other Trollocs
raped Therava and Moderra, their screams reverberating off the rough rock surrounding them.
Just when Moraine thought she could bear no more, a snake-headed Trolloc loomed over her, his
tongue flicking out to taste the sweet flesh of her bare breasts. *****************************

The Wheel of Time: Legacies
by PJ
 
 
Chapter Two
 
Elayne Trakand, Queen of Andor, gazed pensively out one of the large windows lining the walls of the throne room.  The ageless queen wore a sheer gown of red silk, her long red-gold hair tied at the base of her neck with a delicate red ribbon lined with gold thread.  A line of Royal Guardsmen stood at intervals along the throne room's walls, stiff at attention in their shining platemail and gleaming red cloaks.  Elayne turned quickly when her son Galad rushed into the immense chamber.
 
"Where is your sister?" inquired Elayne sharply.
 
"In her apartments, where she's been all night," replied the dark haired Galad, dressed in a creamy white silk shirt and red breeches, a sword belted at his side.
 
"That girl..," muttered Elayne, returning her blazing eyes back to the window to keep her son from seeing the fury that seethed inside her.
 
"Want me to force myself in?" asked Galad hesitantly.
 
"No, let her come out on her own.  The White Tower is aware of her reluctance to continue her training with them."
 
"I've checked around the palace, several of the serving girls are missing."
 
"I see," sighed Elayne, closing her eyes tightly.  The Queen of Andor faced her son, attempting to smile for him.  "You better go to weapons practice, you leave for the Black Tower soon."
 
"Yes, Mother," bowed Galad before departing.
 
"Where did I go wrong with you, Delana?" whispered Elayne, gazing at the extensive gardens surrounding the palace, finding no comfort in their beauty.
 
 
Galad stood uneasily before the doors to Delana's rooms, reluctant to disobey his mother, yet angry at his sister's irresponsible behavior.  He glanced at the two Royal Guard who stood at attention rigidly on either side of the polished white double doors, their eyes locked facing forward.  Galad touched one of the door knobs, using a weave of Air to unlock the portal.  He quietly opened the door, then closed it behind him after entering the entry suite.  The room was a mess, trays of dirty dishes littered the tables and couches of the room, empty wine bottles lay half hidden underneath furniture and discarded clothing.  Galad made his way to the door leading to his sister's bedchamber, scowling at the panties and empty skirts carpeting the way.
 
Galad reluctantly opened the bedroom door, gritting as he heard sounds of lovemaking echoing within the large room.  He entered to find one of the serving girls, a lovely blonde, naked and tied across Delana's huge four poster bed.  Another serving girl, a dusky eyed brunette, sat on the bound girl's face, her face contorted with ecstasy as the blonde nuzzled inside her cunt with an eager mouth.  Galad's sister knelt between the tied blonde's legs, slurping loudly within the naked girl's pussy.  Yet a third serving girl, a short-maned redhead, caressed Delana's small buttocks, licking around the princess' tiny anus.
 
"You're supposed to be leaving for the White Tower this morning," rebuked Galad, crossing his arms over his chest.
 
"What? Is that you, dear brother?" giggled Delana, rising up from her crouch, licking drops of the bound girl's honey from her lips.
 
"You're disgusting.  You upset Mother when you act this way," snapped Galad angrily.
 
"Mother's such a bore," smiled Delana, sitting on the disheveled surface of her bed, leaning back against the bound serving girl's open crotch.  She played with one of her pink nipples, knowing how it upset her brother.
 
"You're going to be queen someday, you should take your obligations more seriously."
 
"Mother is Aes Sedai, she'll be around for centuries.  Might as well have some fun while I'm waiting to claim the throne," replied Delana, stroking her blonde lover's sleek right thigh.  "Was that all you had to say, or do you want to join us?"
 
Galad snorted derisively, spinning on his heel to leave the musky bedroom.  He slammed the bedroom door, as well as the door leading out into the hall.
 
"Bastard, he ruined my mood," spat Delana, rising from the bed to retrieve a half empty wine bottle, tipping the container back to drain the sweet liquor thirstily.
 
"Come back, your highness," begged the redhead, rubbing her tender pussy lewdly.
 
"Why not?  I'm late for Tar Valon anyway," shrugged Delana, setting the empty wine bottle down before returning to the sweat soaked sheets of her crowded bed.
 
 
The cloaked, hooded woman entered the raucous common room of the Dancing Maiden.
She slipped past the drunken patrons on her way to a dark, curtained booth along the far wall.  She opened the black silk curtain, making sure that the two she had summoned were in attendance.
 
"She hasn't arrived yet," said Aran'gar, her long raven hair spilling down her back.
 
Moghedien didn't reply, she merely took a seat next to Aran'gar and pulled the curtain closed to her left.
 
"Can you do it?" asked Moghedien, her brow raised skeptically.
 
"Please, turning this child to the Shadow is Darkfriend work, hardly a task worthy of a Chosen," sneered Aran'gar, her eyes briefly glowing with flame.
 
"Maybe you'll need some help," grinned Osan'gar, his thin brown hair gleaming in the light of the single candle lighting the booth interior.
 
"I'm sure you can find plenty of willing serving wenches in this place to keep you occupied," retorted Aran'gar.
 
"You're not here to play," snapped Moghedien, her sharp face contorting into a snarl.  "Just seduce Delana and get her ready to swear to the Shadow in Shayol Ghul.  Once we have the heir to the Andoran throne, we can move to eliminate that bitch Elayne."
 
"You really want to get your claws on her, don't you?" giggled Aran'gar, one finger tapping against her sensual red lips.
 
"She's not the only one.  I will have my revenge for what those Aes Sedai whores did to me," swore Moghedien, her body trembling with rage.
 
"Delana's here," reported Osan'gar, peeking from the edge of the sleek curtain.
 
"I leave you to your work," said Moghedien, pulling her wide hood over her head before departing from the dimly lit booth.
 
"Imagine that bag questioning my ability," snapped Aran'gar, snatching her cup to drain the remains of her wine.
 
"How the mighty have fallen, eh?" chuckled Osan'gar mockingly.
 
"Don't you start," warned Aran'gar, her green eyes flaring with crackling flame.
 
"Forgive me," apologized Osan'gar with a smile, raising both of his hands in surrender.
 
"Just keep your eyes open.  Make sure I'm not disturbed," said Aran'gar curtly, sliding out of the booth to make her way to the long bar where Delana stood talking to the proprietor.
 
"Don't you have any new staff tonight?  I think I've had everyone here," smiled Delana wantonly, laying her right hand over her barely covered right breast.  The princess wore a scandalous black net body stocking that exposed all of her feminine charms. 
 
"I'm sorry, your highness," blushed the fest hall keeper.
 
"Perhaps I could entertain your highness," purred Aran'gar, standing close to the princess.
 
"Maybe," replied Delana, brazenly gazing up and down the Forsaken's alluring form.
 
"Room thirteen," ordered Aran'gar, placing several gold marks on the counter top.
 
"Ooo, I haven't been there yet," gushed Delana, wrapping her right arm around Aran'gar's left.
 
"Then you're in for an exciting surprise," smiled Aran'gar darkly, leading the willing princess down the steps to the immense cellar of the hall.
 
The seductive raven-haired woman guided Delana down a long hallway of stone, candles scenting the air sweetly, the moans of women echoing within the shadowy tunnel.  Delana licked her lips, excited and frightened at the same time. Aran'gar stopped at the second to last metal door on the left, pushing the thick portal open, then waving Delana inside.
 
Delana entered a completely dark room.  Aran'gar closed the metal door, the portal clicking shut with ominous finality.  Soft orbs of golden light appeared in the middle of the room, illuminating the chains, racks, and open cabinets filled with bondage gear.
 
"You can channel," said Delana, sensing Aran'gar's manipulation of Fire.
 
"Yes, my name is Aran'gar, I am one of the Chosen," admitted the raven-maned beauty.
 
"The Forsaken!" gasped Delana, backing away from the smiling woman whose eyes burned with orange fire.
 
"We have many names, child.  But we all serve the Shadow," said Aran'gar, walking to Delana's left, stroking the shaking girl's slim arm.  "I have come to offer you the chance to serve Him as well."
 
"The Dark One," murmured Delana, watching Aran'gar with wide frightened blue eyes.
 
"Many gifts are bestowed on those who serve the Shadow," purred Aran'gar, standing behind Delana, caressing the girl's graceful hips.  "You could become one of the Chosen yourself, you would have eternity to indulge every hunger you've ever felt."
 
"But..my father, he defeated the Dark One," whispered Delana weakly.
 
Aran'gar burst into harsh laughter, making Delana cringe with its malevolence.
 
"No..the Shadow can never be destroyed," chuckled Aran'gar, "but your father, the mighty Dragon Reborn, he was not so lucky, was he?  Where did his nobility and self sacrifice bring him?
To death!"
 
Delana quivered from Aran'gar's voice hissing into her ear.
 
The tall woman walked away from Delana, moving to a set of gleaming silver chains that dangled from the ceiling, leather bindings fastened at their ends.
 
"You wish to experience things you've never known.  You want to feel pleasures beyond those you've already tasted.  I can give you those experiences, I can impart those pleasures to you,
will you accept them?" asked Aran'gar, shaking the chains in front of her, teasing Delana with them.
 
Delana was silent, her blue eyes locked on the Forsaken, her mouth set in a firm line.  She walked up to where Aran'gar stood, raising her arms, offering her wrists to the manacles held within the gorgeous woman's hands.  Aran'gar smiled with triumph, placing the leather bindings over the princess' slim wrists, fastening them tightly against the girl's flesh.  Delana stood with arms upraised and stretched apart, a beautiful offering willing given to the Shadow.  Aran'gar touched Delana's forehead, sending tendrils of Spirit into the girl's mind.  Delana gasped, perspiration forming on her smooth brow.
 
"A simple Compulsion, a safeguard so that you will not reveal what I have told you," smiled Aran'gar before she reached out and ripped open the front of Delana's fishnet body stocking.
 
"I believe that I offered you new pleasures to savor, might as well start tonight," giggled Aran'gar, swaying to one of the open cabinets.  The woman retrieved several items before returning to where Delana stood in her bonds. Aran'gar fasted a leather spiked collar around the princess' slender neck, then pressed a rubber ball gag into the girl's mouth.  Making sure that the gag was secure, Aran'gar moved to Delana's back, ripping off more of the body stocking with her sharp nails.  Delana hung in tattered netting, mostly naked for the Forsaken's pleasure.  Aran'gar retrieved a five tailed whip, caressing Delana's smooth white skin before snapping the weapon against Delana's back.  The golden-haired princess screamed into her gag, her eyes as wide as saucers as Aran'gar lashed her creamy flesh.  The slap of leather on flesh reverberated within the room, Delana dangling limply in her wrist bonds, the ball gag within her mouth dripping with her drool.  Aran'gar yanked back painfully on Delana's long curly blonde hair as she whipped the girl's buttocks, making them glow cherry red with bruising.  Delana's ass throbbed with agony, yet her pussy became moist with arousal, trickles of honey sliding down her fishnet encased legs.
 
Aran'gar halted her whipping, admiring the red welts adorning her victim's back and ass.
She wrapped an arm around Delana's slim waist, weaving a rod of Air that vibrated within her right hand.  The Forsaken shoved the invisible rod into Delana's pussy, thrusting it deep into the bound girl's vagina.  Delana groaned through her gagged mouth, her skin glistening with sweat as Aran'gar pumped the trembling rod in and out of her clenching slit.  Aran'gar licked up Delana's bare left side, relishing the taste of the girl's hot skin and perspiration. Delana closed her eyes in bliss, her buttocks quivering while the rod thrust up into her belly, caressing the wet walls of her tight vagina.  Aran'gar placed her mouth over Delana's left tit, sucking hungrily on the girl's soft mound, caressing her hardened nipple while her right hand pressed up inside the naked princess' crack, shoving back and forth, warm juices flowing from Delana's cunt onto her clenched fingers.
Aran'gar felt Delana's pussy spasm, a flood of honey washing over her hand. The Forsaken pried the ball from Delana's slack mouth, covering the girl's lips with her own in a passionate, demanding kiss.  Delana returned the kiss submissively, her cunt aching with sensual ecstasy.
 
"More.., give me more," begged Delana, her face dripping with sweat, her hair shining like burnished gold in the soft light.
 
"You shall have more," smiled Aran'gar, fondling the girl's heaving tits, crushing her mouth in a greedy embrace.
************************

The Wheel of Time: Legacies
by PJ
 
 
Chapter Three
 
Egwene al'Vere stood upon the scorched slope of Shayol Ghul, gazing up at the titanic battle raging above and around her.  Upon the very summit of the dark mountain fought Rand and the Dark One, the Lord of Shadow appearing as a gigantic man-shape composed of swirling black smoke.  Rand burned like a miniature sun, surrounded by the harsh glow of Saidin.  The Dragon Reborn wielded Callandor, the crystal sword radiating like the Eye of the Creator Himself.  Egwene tore her eyes away from Rand to watch the armies fighting around the circumference of Shayol Ghul, Aiel, Trollocs, and the armies of all the free nations locked in a desperate melee that mirrored the struggle between their masters.  The One Power flared everywhere, men and women alike hurling bolts of lightning or spheres of raging red flame at the armies and at each other.  The Pattern itself quivered in agony, torn by the massive forces clashing around the shattered Seal.
 
"So this was Tarmon Gai'don, the Last Battle," observed Lanfear, floating a short distance to the left of Egwene.  "It's about what I expected it to be."
 
"Lanfear!  It can't be!" exclaimed Egwene, her eyes wide with horror.  "This must be a nightmare."
 
"Then it is appropriate that I am in it since I am the mistress of nightmares," smiled Lanfear, turning her cold gaze on the young woman.  The beautiful Forsaken tilted her face towards the flashing summit, where Rand and the Dark One continued to fight.
 
"A pity about Rand, I shall miss my Lews Therin," murmured Lanfear wistfully.
 
"Your Dark Lord is defeated, and now that I know you are back, the Aes Sedai will hunt you down, I swear it!" promised Egwene.
 
"What a fiery little Amyrlin you are, child," chuckled Lanfear, her bright white dress fluttering around her legs as she levitated in front of Egwene. "And your reforms of the White Tower, very progressive, especially the one to eliminate the Three Oaths."
 
"I did what I had to do," snapped Egwene.
 
"Yes, and now you will do what I tell you to do," hissed Lanfear, her long raven hair spreading out behind her head like a set of demonic black wings.
 
"Never!" screamed Egwene, embracing the True Source, hurling a weave of Air at the smirking Forsaken.  The weave shattered against Lanfear's barrier, the torn threads falling like shards of delicate glass.
 
"Now you will see true power!" said Lanfear, her blue eyes flashing as the ground beneath Egwene exploded, sending the young woman hurling back down the slope of Shayol Ghul.  Egwene fell heavily, pain shooting up her chest as the air was squeezed from her lungs.  The heat and loud cries of battle around Shayol Ghul disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cool tent filled with the scent of sweet incense.  Lanfear sat on a pile of cushions while two women in rich embroidered green robes approached Egwene, one woman holding her tightly while the other snapped the collar of an a'dam around her neck.
 
"NO!" screamed Egwene, violently hurling the woman who held her away, reaching up to tear the hated collar from her neck.
 
"Stop," said Lanfear, accepting a chalice of wine from a nearby slave.
 
Egwene froze, her hands inches away from the tight silver collar around her throat.
 
"Your greatest fear, to be made a damane again," smiled Lanfear, sipping lightly from her golden cup.  "Yes, this does have many possibilities."
 
"I will kill you myself, I will have you gentled," sobbed Egwene, her hands shaking with fury and terror all at once.
 
"No, you will be my slave, and you will enjoy it," laughed Lanfear, her mocking voice grating within Egwene's ears.  "Until next time."
 
Egwene awoke with a harsh gasp, her thin shift drenched in sweat.  She threw the sheets away from her body as she rose abruptly to her bare feet, padding across her bedroom chamber to a table that had a cup and a pitcher of cool water.  Egwene poured herself a cup, draining the container greedily.  She set the cup down sharply, staring into the dark interior of the pitcher, her breasts pumping beneath her transparent tunic.  Her face set with determination, Egwene peeled off her shift, dropping a plain white dress over her body.  She tied her damp hair into a loose tail before draping the multi-colored stole of the Amyrlin Seat over her thin shoulders.  Egwene marched out of the dark bedroom, her eyes smoldering with grim intent.
 
 
Moraine Damodred hid behind the barn wall, waiting until the farm woman left her laundry drying on the long clothes line.  The Aes Sedai rushed over to the dangling clothing, hastily grabbing a dress before sprinting back to the shelter of the barn.  She slipped the brown wool dress over her head, the garment covering her with some room to spare.  Moraine smoothed the dress down, relieved to have some kind of clothing on after spending the morning running across the countryside naked.  Moraine's growling stomach was her next priority, but she left the farm to find sustenance elsewhere.  Whitebridge lay a few miles to the south, so Moraine set her course for there, taking a steady, yet easy pace across the rolling countryside, following a large, swiftly flowing river. 
 
Moraine rested often during her trek to the village, her body exhausted from her emergence through the Portal.  The Aes Sedai felt weaker than she had ever felt in her long life, she could barely open a conduit to Saidar, and even the True Source could not dispel all of her fatigue.  As the sun rose to mid-day, Moraine wiped her dripping brow, taking a moment to wash her face in the cool river.  Brushing wet strands of auburn hair from her face, Moraine rose to finish her journey to Whitebridge.  The river town was busy, the dock area filled with men loading and unloading heavily laden barges.  Moraine melted easily into the crowd flowing around the dock, searching for the food stalls where she might be able to snatch something to eat.
 
"You appear to have traveled far, all on foot," remarked a bear of a man in a coarse wool tunic and breeches, a thick black beard flowing over his wide chest and slightly bulging belly.
 
"I have," admitted Moraine, searching the man's eyes for signs of malicious intent.
 
"Would you like something to eat?  You must be starving after such a long march," offered the bearded man politely.  "A free meal offered in kindness is better than a free meal taken by deft fingers."
 
Moraine blushed, murmuring a soft acceptance of the man's offer.
 
The bearded man led the way to one of the many taverns lining the dock area. The Flying Trout was bustling with the lunch crowd, barge workers crowding the tables, shouting demands for food and drink.  Moraine's companion chose an empty table near the far wall, in a section where some merchants sat eating quietly or softly discussing business.  The bearded man ordered for both of them, then waited until Moraine had drained her first cup of ale greedily.
 
"A long trip indeed," chuckled the man as Moraine accepted her second cup from a serving wench.
 
"Yes," nodded Moraine, sipping more slowly from her cup.
 
"My name is Winthrop," nodded the man in greeting.
 
"I am Moraine," replied the Aes Sedai.
 
"Where are you headed, if I may ask, Lady Moraine?"
 
"East, towards Andor."
 
"A long journey.  It's dangerous for a pretty woman such as yourself to travel the roads alone."
 
"I can protect myself," said Moraine, her eyes flashing.
 
"Indeed," nodded Winthrop, acknowledging her reply, "but it would be easier if you traveled with others."
 
"Are you offering me your company?" asked Moraine with an arched brow.
 
"My intentions are completely noble," laughed Winthrop, taking a respite to drink from his cup.  "I lead a merchant train going to Andor, I thought you might like to accompany us if you wish."
 
"You are very kind, my lord."
 
"If you cannot pay your way now, I would take a suitable fee when we reach your destination."
 
"Thank you," sighed Moraine despite herself.
 
"Then it is bargained and done!  Ah!  Here comes our repast!" smiled Winthrop, eager to delve into his meal.
 
Moraine eagerly dug into her meal as well, confident that she would return to Tar Valon quietly so that she could discover what had transpired during her absence.
 
 
Egwene sat at her desk, pouring over the stack of reports she had received from the Ajahs.
All of the Ajahs had sent agents out to hunt for Lanfear, but it would be some time before any status reports arrived about the success of the search. Finding one Forsaken amidst the entire land
was a daunting task to say the least, the Sitters had been very quick to remind Egwene time and again about that fact.  Egwene sat back wearily in her high-backed chair, rubbing her aching eyes with the back of one hand.  She longed to go to sleep, but feared that the Forsaken would torment her again within the dream world of Tel'aran'rhiod.  Egwene slowly blinked her eyes, her vision fading until she collapsed onto her desktop with exhaustion.
 
 
"My pet returns," said Lanfear, stroking Egwene's long brown hair.
 
"No, please," wept Egwene, kneeling naked before the Forsaken, the leash of her a'dam held lightly in Lanfear's delicate right hand.
 
"But you live to serve your sul'dam," admonished Lanfear, caressing Egwene's cheek tenderly, like a beloved dog.
 
"I'll never serve you!" said Egwene, lowering her gaze to the carpeted floor, tears falling heavily from her soft cheeks.
 
"Poor little bird, you have no choice," smiled Lanfear, tugging gently on the leash binding Egwene to the Forsaken.  "Let's begin your training."
 
"Please," whimpered Egwene, her lips trembling.
 
"Lick here," ordered Lanfear, spreading her long pale legs open, indicating her bare pussy with a long finger.
 
Egwene lowered her face to Lanfear's crotch, her will overwhelmed by the power of the a'dam.  The lovely young woman tentatively slid her tongue up Lanfear's cunt, until she reached the smiling woman's batch of dark pubic hair.
 
"Again," sighed Lanfear, running her left hand through Egwene's lush mane.
 
Egwene ran her tongue up and down Lanfear's slit, her lips caressing the beautiful woman's soft labia.  Lanfear moaned with pleasure, pressing Egwene's face into her cunt, squeezing the naked young woman's body between her warm thighs.  Egwene poked her tongue into Lanfear's pussy, sliding it around the inside of the Forsaken's vagina.
 
"Very good," praised Lanfear, sending a shaft of Spirit into Egwene's mind, exploring the young woman's secrets while breaking her will.
 
Egwene felt the Forsaken raping her mind, her eyes moist with fresh tears as her mouth sucked on Lanfear's pussy on its own, her tongue circling around the woman's stiff clit.
 
"Lay back," commanded Lanfear, yanking painfully on the leash bound to Egwene's tight collar.
 
Egwene obeyed her sul'dam, falling back onto the floor.  Lanfear crawled between Egwene's naked legs, prying her thighs apart, licking her warm smooth flesh.  The Forsaken buried her mouth in Egwene's pussy, sucking wetly on the edges of her cervix.  Egwene moaned, biting her lower lip as Lanfear burrowed up her vagina, her tongue flicking inside her like the tongue of a lewd reptile.
 
"Orgasm," said Lanfear before licking Egwene's cunt honey from her full lips.
 
Egwene's crotch exploded upon command, spurts of pussy juice squirting out of her quivering hole.  Egwene's small hands clutched at the thick carpet beneath her, her back arching as a spear of ecstasy rammed up her vagina into her stomach.  Egwene became limp, her body gleaming with perspiration, every muscle aching.
 
"Nice little bird," giggled Lanfear, brushing Egwene's slick hair out of her panting face, then leaning over the naked young woman to kiss her softly on the mouth, teasing Egwene's tongue with a lingering caress.  "Until tomorrow night..."
 
Egwene sat up in her chair, gasping loudly for breath.  She wiped sweat from her hot forehead, then slid her right hand underneath her dress, feeling the moist stain spread across her panties.  Egwene sobbed with despair, lowering her face onto her arms upon the desk, her sides shaking from the strength of her anguish.
*****************************

The Wheel of Time: Legacies
by PJ
 
 
Chapter Five
 
Galad walked down the heavily carpeted hallway, passing several Royal Guard who stood at attention guarding the Queen Heir's apartments.  The prince ran a hand through his short black hair before opening one of the entrance doors, striding into his sister's clean and orderly entry suite.
 
"Delana?" called Galad, tentatively walking into her bedchamber.
 
"Ah, Galad!  Come to see me off, dear brother?" grinned Delana, overseeing the serving maids as they packed several trunks with rich clothing.
 
"You're finally going to the Tower?" asked Galad in amazement.
 
"Yes.  You and Mother were right, I should be more responsible, so I decided to leave for Tar Valon last night."
 
"I'm shocked," muttered Galad, wide-eyed.
 
"Watch that gown, you little whore!  No wrinkles!"
 
"Surely nothing I said could provoke such a change," said Galad, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
 
"Can't I reform my wicked ways, brother dear?" giggled Delana.
 
"Only if you get something out of it.  You always said the White Tower bored you, you never endure boredom unless it leads to real trouble."
 
"I'm doing what Mother told me to do, that's all that you have to know, Galad. Now unless you have something constructive to say, I suggest that you leave!" snapped Delana, focusing her attention on one of the packing maids.
 
"You will be Queen someday.  I hope you remember that before you do something that will shame our House."
 
"I know my destiny, you might remember it as well, dear brother," replied Delana acidly.
 
"Queens have been deposed before, your blood does not guarantee your rule."
 
"Why, are you threatening me, Galad?" smiled Delana dangerously.
 
"A warning.  I don't want the throne, but I will protect Andor, no matter the cost."
 
"I understand you quite well," smirked Delana, swaying to stand before her brother, then grasping him by the face, crushing his mouth with hers.  Galad's eyes widened as his sister slid her tongue between his lips, caressing his tongue lewdly.
 
"You're..you're mad!" gasped Galad, jerking out of Delana's grasp, wiping his mouth with the back of his right hand.
 
"Good-bye, brother.  Have fun training at the Black Tower, maybe I'll visit you there, give you a little female comfort during your arduous stay with all those icky Asha'men," giggled the beautiful princess, her bright blue eyes gleaming maliciously.
 
Galad stormed out of the bedroom, crashing the door shut behind him.  Delana turned back to the motionless maids, who were staring at her with wide-eyed, shocked expressions.
 
"Get back to work, you cunts!  I don't want to be late!" shouted Delana, her eyes flashing angrily.
 
 
Delana left the Palace after saying a cool farewell to her mother.  She walked arrogantly down the grass lined walkway, flanked on either side by strong, plate-armored Royal Guard.  The princess winked at several of the men she had dallied with in the past, making their faces blush hotly.  She climbed nimbly into the waiting white carriage, a liveried doorman closing and securing the carriage door after she had entered.
 
"You're late," observed Aran'gar, brushing her long braid of raven hair over her right shoulder.
 
"Forgive me, Mistress," replied Delana with downcast eyes, taking a seat next to the Forsaken on the front bench of the richly appointed carriage.  Osan'gar made sure that the closed drapes were secure as the carriage jerked into motion.
 
"We have a long journey to Shayol Ghul, princess," smiled Aran'gar darkly. "Plenty of time to punish your transgression."
 
"Punish me, please," begged Delana softly, her eyes smoldering with lust.
 
Aran'gar grasped the shoulders of Delana's laced white gown, roughly yanking it down to the submissive girl's ankles.  Delana obediently unfastened her bra and pulled off her white lace panties while the two Forsaken watched with interest.  Aran'gar reached into her handbag near her right hip, removing a black silk blindfold that she fastened over Delana's lovely eyes.  The princess sat compliantly while Aran'gar stuffed a red ball gag in her mouth and secured it behind her head.
Osan'gar licked his lips at the sight of the beautiful princess naked, blindfolded, and gagged before him.
 
Aran'gar laid Delana over her lap, caressing the naked girl's firm ass and crack before slapping her painfully with a leather switch.  Delana jerked briefly, but remained prone over the Forsaken's slim thighs.  Aran'gar panted softly with arousal as she whipped Delana's buttocks with the switch again and again, leaving several red welts cris-crossed over the white, creamy skin of Delana's rump.  Delana moaned with ecstasy as Aran'gar whipped her, drool rolled over the ball nestled between her soft lips.
 
"I want her," growled Osan'gar, his pole stiff in his breeches.
 
Aran'gar sat Delana up, then guided the naked princess to her feet.  Osan'gar seized Delana's slim left arm, pulling her toward him, sitting her on his crotch facing Aran'gar.  Osan'gar reached beneath Delana's ass to free his cock, the erect meat pole plunging up into Delana's wet cunt.  Delana moaned loudly within her gag, her breasts jiggling as Osan'gar started pumping into her vagina, filling her fuck tunnel with his throbbing shaft.  Delana pressed her small hands over Osan'gar's thighs, holding herself up while the Forsaken fondled her tits, his hands rolling over her firm, warm flesh.  Aran'gar leaned forward, licking Delana's pert pink nipples, running her tongue over the hard tit buds.  The female Forsaken pressed her left hand against Delana's dripping cunt, massaging the naked, moaning girl's clit, making the princess groan even louder with pleasure.
 
"Pierce her," said Osan'gar, his face sweating as he shoved up with his wide hips, ramming his meat into Delana's clenching hole.
 
Aran'gar reached into her bag again, withdrawing a long shining silver needle. She tapped the tip against Delana's left nipple, giggling when the blindfolded girl groaned in alarm through her gag.  Aran'gar slowly ran the needle through Delana's nipple, blood welling out and slowly dripping off the gleaming poker. Delana shrieked into her gag, tears of pain escaping from under her black blindfold.  Aran'gar covered the bleeding bud with her mouth, sucking loudly on Delana's breast, licking the blood off with her warm tongue.  Delana's moans returned to low cries of pleasure, her pussy overflowing with her musky honey as Osan'gar fucked her slit, his shaft caressing the quivering pink lips of her cervix.
 
"Orgasm" murmured Aran'gar before she pulled the gag down from Delana's mouth and devoured the sweating young girl's slack mouth.
 
Delana groaned as she climaxed, the Compulsion buried within her brain by the Forsaken making her cunt spasm violently while a flood of thick juices spat out of her shaking slit.  Osan'gar pulled out his quivering cock, shooting his cream over Delana's flat belly.
 
 
"Good-bye, Mother," said Galad, hugging Elayne tightly.  The golden-maned Queen of Andor returned her son's desperate embrace, resting her cheek against his soft dark hair.
 
"Write to me when you reach the Black Tower," smiled Elayne, wiping a tear from beneath her right eye.
 
"I will," grinned Galad, holding his mother's free hand affectionately. "Don't worry."
 
"I'll always worry about my children," replied Elayne, brushing stray locks of hair out of Galad's blushing face.
 
Galad released his mother's hand, backing away a short distance to give her a proper bow of farewell.  Smiling at his mother one last time, Galad left his mother's apartments, his heart heavy as he made his way to the open courtyard of the Palace where his horse and escort awaited him.
 
"Did your man follow Delana to Tar Valon?" asked Galad, climbing easily into his white stallion's saddle.
 
"Yes, your highness.  I received a message from him via courier pigeon a few hours ago, she didn't stop at the White Tower, she continued north."
 
"I knew it," scowled Galad, snapping his horse's reins, riding at a slow canter.  "Where could she be going?"
 
"She's traveling with two strangers to the court.  They seem to have the princess well in hand."
 
"Too well in hand.  Bloody ashes!  I can't do anything until my training is done at the Black Tower!  Have your man continue to follow her.  Let me know where she eventually stops."
 
"I'll see to it, your highness," saluted the Royal Guard crisply.
 
"Damn you, Delana," snarled Galad, kicking his steed into a fierce gallop. ***************************

The Wheel of Time: Legacies
by PJ
 
 
Chapter Six
 
Soft moans filled the spacious bedchamber of the Amyrlin Seat.  The dark interior of the room was cool, but Egwene sweated heavily, the sheets of the large bed wrapped chaotically around her naked body.
 
"It's useless to resist me, little bird," giggled Lanfear, yanking back painfully upon Egwene's long brown hair.  Egwene winced with pain, even though this was merely her dream self trapped within the world of Tel'aran'rhiod.
 
"I won't do as you say!  I won't!" shouted Egwene defiantly.
 
"Still some spirit left?  I shall have to crush it," smiled Lanfear wickedly, slashing Egwene's left cheek with a razor sharp red fingernail.  Egwene hissed with pain, then groaned when Lanfear slapped her across the face, knocking her to the well-lit floor of the Sitting Chamber, the Sitters of the various Ajahs watching dispassionately.
 
"Little girls must be punished," said Lanfear, violently pulling away Egwene's stole of office, then ripping open the young woman's white robe.
 
"Kneel," commanded Lanfear, the leash of the a'dam held tightly in her right hand.
 
Egwene's legs trembled as she rose to her knees, her head lowered submissively towards the polished marble floor.
 
"Bend down."
 
Egwene bent down at the waist, resting her bare arms on the cold floor, her small ass thrust up into the air towards Lanfear.
 
A paddle appeared in Lanfear's left hand.  The Forsaken rubbed the hard wooden device over Egwene's taut buttocks, then slapped it down without warning, making Egwene squeal with pain and astonishment.  The watching Sitters laughed maliciously while Lanfear spanked Egwene's ass over and over with the paddle, the slap of wood against flesh reverberating throughout the huge meeting chamber.  Tears of agony and shame trickled down Egwene's flushed cheeks as Lanfear slammed the paddle against her throbbing bottom.
 
"I think she likes it," said Lanfear, addressing the assembled Sitters.  The Forsaken slid the edge of the paddle between Egwene's shaking thighs, probing the naked young woman's cunt, showing everyone how wet it was.
 
"Stop it, please," murmured Egwene, tears hot against her red cheeks.
 
"Not yet," grinned Lanfear, caressing Egwene's smooth back, then licking the musky sweat from her damp fingers.  Egwene stared with growing horror as Lanfear weaved Air into a rod-like shape in her left hand.  The Forsaken slid the stiff invisible shaft within Egwene's crack, lubricating it with Egwene's dripping pussy juices.  Lanfear circled Egwene's anus with the Air rod, teasing the young woman's small asshole.
 
"No!" screamed Egwene, her eyes wide with panic.
 
Lanfear chuckled darkly before ramming the rod into Egwene's anus.  Egwene moaned loudly as the stiff rod pierced deep into her ass, prying her asshole open painfully.  Lanfear yanked back on Egwene's leash, making the young woman arch her naked body upwards, her breasts bobbing while her ass shuddered with each thrust into her tiny butthole.  Egwene's anus clenched around the shaft of Air, aching as it probed inside her, stabbing sharply back and forth within her small orifice.  Lanfear licked Egwene's trembling buttocks, her tongue sliding wetly across the warm, creamy flesh.  When Egwene's asshole hurt so much she thought she would scream, Lanfear removed the Air rod, dispelling it with a thought. 
 
"Will you do as you're told?" whispered Lanfear in Egwene's right ear, licking the young woman's lobe lightly.
 
"Yes!  Just please..stop hurting me!" sobbed Egwene, her whole naked body shaking.
 
"Good little bird," giggled Lanfear, stroking Egwene's damp brown hair affectionately.
 
 
The sky was a clear blue, with cotton white clouds floating across its calm face.  Moraine Damodred sat quietly upon the wagon seat next to Winthrop, who drove the gently rocking vehicle.  Moraine felt much better after taking a hot bath and donning a clean light blue dress fitted to her size.  A silk dark blue bow held her auburn hair at the base of her neck, a gift from the blushing caravan master.  Moraine watched the countryside pass by slowly, too slowly for her as they traveled to Four King's along the main caravan road.  Ten wagons made up Winthrop's team,
six owned by the stout man himself, four owned by other merchants who paid him a fee to join the train for mutual protection.  Winthrop readily told Moraine about the brigands when the beautiful woman asked.  After the Last Battle, raiding Trolloc bands had disappeared south of the Border kingdoms, but human raiders had quickly taken their place.  Travel to and from the major cities was still a risky business, hence the need for traveling in large caravans to reduce the chance of being attacked.
 
Winthrop was proudly discussing a secret shipment of Seanchan silks that he was taking to Caemlyn when Moraine sensed someone using the One Power.  The Aes Sedai turned her head left, scanning the flat northern horizon with her sharp eyes.  Opening herself to Saidar, Moraine detected several men hiding behind a screen of Air.  Searching more closely, Moraine gasped softly when she detected a woman, an Aes Sedai, with the group, maintaining the cloak of invisibility.
 
"Winthrop!" snapped Moraine, squeezing the merchant's thick right arm urgently.
 
"What is it, m'lady?" inquired Winthrop quizzically.
 
A fireball exploded beneath one of the wagons behind Winthrop's, hurling the vehicle and its harnessed horses high into the air.  The horses' screams filled Moraine's ears until they fell heavily back to the road, crushed instantly by the flaming wagon they had pulled.  More fireballs blossomed everywhere, enveloping the surprised guards and destroying two more wagons at the very end of the train.
 
"We must flee, Moraine!" gasped Winthrop, sweat pouring from his face while he prodded Moraine off of the wagon's seat.
 
"These are not ordinary bandits!" exclaimed Moraine as another explosion rocked the ground beneath her.
 
"No, they're Asha'men!" replied Winthrop, taking Moraine's left hand and pulling her after him as he ran away from the burning wagons and the screams of the dying.
 
"Leaving so soon, fat man?" chuckled a dark haired young man, seeming to appear out of thin air holding a gleaming steel blade.
 
"The fun's just starting!" added a second black-coated attacker, the wild-eyed man giggling as he raked his gaze over Moraine.
 
"You have my goods, please, just let us go!" said Winthrop, protecting Moraine with his massive bulk.
 
"Winthrop..," hissed Moraine as she opened herself to Saidar.
 
"Aes Sedai witch!" snarled the wild-eyed blonde Asha'man, reaching out with an open right palm.
 
Moraine wove her pattern with the True Source before the Asha'man could Shield her.  A coil of Air wrapped around the wild-eyed man's neck, crushing it like a thin twig.  As the blonde Asha'man fell, the dark haired man narrowed his eyes, taking hold of Saidin, knocking Moraine off her feet with a rising pillar of Earth.  Moraine fell heavily onto her back, the air knocked out of her as the Asha'man strode towards her, a Shield locked around her, cutting her off from the True Source.
 
"Lady Moraine!" shouted Winthrop, drawing a dagger from his belt, charging the grim- faced Asha'man.  The dark-coated raider impaled the fat merchant with one smooth stroke, withdrawing the blade to let the corpse fall to the ground.
 
"Winthrop," whispered Moraine, saddened at the violent passing of the kind merchant.
 
"I've been hoping to catch an Aes Sedai bitch of my own," smiled the Asha'man just before he slapped the flat of his blade against Moraine's head, hurling her into oblivion.
****************************

Wheel of Time: Legacies
by PJ
 
 
Chapter Seven
 
    "Aviendha, another group has arrived," reported a Maiden from the open tent flap.
 
    Aviendha left the map she was studying on the folding camp table to emerge into the hot
sun of late afternoon.  The Aiel camp stationed north of Fal Dara had grown to almost five times
its original size in the last week as more Aiel came to answer the Maiden's call for aid.  The
beautiful auburn haired woman squinted against the setting sun, watching as the group of arriving
male warriors stopped to set up their own tents and cook fires.  A lone warrior strode through the
bustling tent city, stopping a short distance from Aviendha to nod respectfully.
 
    "Jherkar, of the Aethan Dor," said the tall, brown-haired man.
 
    "Thank you for coming, Jherkar of the Aethan Dor," replied Aviendha with a nod of her
own.  "I value your courage and that of your men."
 
    "You do us honor.  We await your command," said Jherkar before turning to return
to his camp.
 
    Aviendha watched the lithe man depart, then re-entered her dark tent, lighting several
candles on the tabletop before returning to her study of the map.  She almost had all the warriors
she needed, then she could begin the scouring of the Blight.
 
 
    "The Aiel bitch is raising an army to invade the Blight.  She may try to attack Shayol Ghul
herself, she is one of al'Thor's whores, after all," said Moghedien from the safety of the darkness
within the mountain's heart.
 
    "Aviendha wants her sweet little girl back," smiled Shaidar cruelly, caressing Moraine's
soft cheek tenderly.  The young Maiden rubbed her cheek against the Myrddraal's cold white skin,
her mind clouded by the Halfman's powerful Compulsion.
 
    "What do you intend to do with the Aiel slut?  Trade her for concessions? Prohibit the
Border nations from entering the Blight while we rebuild our Trolloc armies? What?" demanded
the Forsaken, her curiosity overwhelming her fear of the Hand of the Dark.
 
    "You will see soon enough, Moghedien," replied the Myrddraal, running his hand through
Moraine's thick red mane.  "Return to your task in Tar Valon."
 
    "Yes," hissed Moghedien, reluctantly obeying the Halfman, disappearing into the deeper
darkness of the chamber.
 
    "Our time together will soon be over, sweet Moraine," sighed Shaidar, gazing down
covetously at the kneeling, naked Maiden.  "Shall we play one last time?"
 
    "Yes!  Oh, yes, Master!" gasped Moraine, trapped in the hold of the Myrddraal's
Compulsion.
 
    "Then begin," smiled the eyeless Halfman, reclining into his cushioned chair.
 
    Moraine opened Shaidar's breeches, freeing his hardening white cock.  She caressed up
and down the shaft with her brown hands, licking the tip with her moist tongue. The naked
Maiden placed her lips over the head of the stiff member, rolling her tongue beneath the bulging
tip.  The Myrddraal groaned with pleasure, sliding his hands over Moraine's head.  The girl's head
bobbed as she sucked on Shaidar's pole, her cheeks taut with strain as she pulled his cock deep
into her throat.  Wet slurping sounds filled the pitch black room while Moraine licked up and
down Shaidar's prick, making it engorge with arousal.
 
    "Give me your pussy," ordered Shaidar.
 
    Moraine stood up, straddling the Myrddraal's lap, positioning his cock beneath her cunt
with her left hand, then slowly sitting down atop the stiff meat pole.  Moraine moaned as she felt
the cock thrust up into her vagina, the cold flesh making the walls of her love tunnel quiver at the
touch.  Moraine's naked body shook as she rode Shaidar's crotch, his hips pumping as he rammed
his meat up into her belly.  She wrapped her slim brown arms around the Myrddraal's neck,
closing her eyes, panting while she pushed her ass onto her master's pole. Shaidar grasped
Moraine's firm buttocks with his hands, prying her crack open wide, forcing his cock harder into
her gaping cunt hole.  The Halfman licked Moraine's throbbing neck with his cold tongue, tasting
the warm skin of her throat and shoulder.  Shaidar shoved himself into the moaning girl until he
climaxed, his member jerking spasmodically within Moraine's womb, squeezed tight by the sides
of the girl's narrow, wet vagina.
 
    "A good show, I think I'll like it here," said Delana, entering the chamber surrounded by a
shaft of white light.
 
    "I have brought the princess as I promised," said Aran'gar triumphantly, following the
lovely girl into the room.
 
    "Excellent.  Another piece falls into place," whispered Shaidar, cupping Moraine's face
with his right hand before kissing the panting girl softly on the mouth.
 
 
 
 
    It was almost dawn when Aviendha felt the flare of the One Power.  She threw back her
thin bed sheet, pulling a robe around her naked body as she marched out into the cool night air.
 
    "Aran'gar," snarled Aviendha, hate dripping from her voice.
 
    "It's good to see you again too, young Maiden," smiled the Forsaken without warmth.
"Find a nice man to replace your precious Dragon Reborn?"
 
    "What do you want, dark one?" snapped Aviendha, embracing Saidar eagerly.
 
    "As you may have guessed, we have your precious daughter," replied Aran'gar, tossing her
dark hair over her left shoulder.  "We offer a simple exchange: you for the life of Moraine."
 
    "How can I trust a Forsaken to keep her word?"
 
    "If you don't, your child dies," grinned Aran'gar, her eyes gleaming.
 
    "Where?" sighed Aviendha, her belly clenched painfully.
 
    "Half a day north of Tarwin's Gap.  Come alone.  If anyone else enters the Blight,
Moraine dies."
 
    The Forsaken sliced open a tear within the air, smoothly climbing into the Gateway before
it snapped shut.
 
    Aviendha shuddered, her lungs aching as she stared at the spot where Aran'gar had stood.
 
 
    "No, you can't go!" said Lord Jagad vehemently.
 
    "I agree with the wetlander," nodded Jherkar.  "The Forsaken have no honor."
 
    "I know, I've fought them before," replied Aviendha, standing stiffly in front of Lord
Jagad's desk.  "But I have to go, for Moraine."
 
    "At least take an escort, my men or some of your Maidens," suggested the Border lord.
 
    "No, the Forsaken said no one but me.  Jherkar...,"
 
    "Yes, Aviendha?"
 
    "When Moraine returns, watch over her, make sure she doesn't try to follow me back to
Shayol Ghul."
 
    "I will protect her with my life and the lives of my men," swore Jherkar fervently.
 
    "Thank you," smiled Aviendha, clasping the tall Aiel's right arm briefly, one warrior to
another.
 
    "Good bye," said the beautiful Aiel woman, departing the silent office.
 
 
    The sun was just emerging into the clear sky of the Blight when Aviendha exited her
Gateway.  The Aiel woman let the portal close, her eyes locked on Moraine, who knelt at the feet
of Aran'gar.
 
    "What have you done to her?" whispered Aviendha, her face contorted with rage.
 
    "Just keeping her occupied during her stay," smiled Aran'gar wickedly. "Don't move
now."
 
    Aviendha stood passively, her fists clenched, as Aran'gar Shielded her from the True
Source.  Two Gateways appeared, disgorging Osan'gar and a red-garbed Myrddraal.
 
    "Finally, one of al'Thor's whores is in my power!  I have such terrible things in store for
you!" chuckled Shaidar, rubbing his gloved hands together.
 
    "Let Moraine go," said Aviendha without emotion.
 
    "Of course," replied Shaidar, urging Aran'gar on with a sweep of his arm.
 
    Aran'gar pulled the limp Moraine to her feet, dragging her across the dry ground of the
Blasted Lands to where Aviendha stood.
 
    "Mother!" cried Moraine, collapsing into Aviendha's fierce embrace.
 
    "You have to go, Moraine," murmured Aviendha, kissing her daughter's fiery hair.  "Don't
try to come back for me."
 
    "I can't leave you with them!  They did such horrible things!" sobbed the young Maiden.
 
    "Obey your mother," said Aviendha, squeezing Moraine tightly, then pushing her away.
 
    Aran'gar waited impatiently for the two Aiel to part, opening a Gateway for the trembling
Moraine.
 
    "I love you," smiled Aviendha as Osan'gar bound her arms behind her with leather cord.
 
    "I love you too, Mother," wept Moraine before Aran'gar shoved her into the glowing white
portal.
************

Wheel of Time: Legacies
by PJ
 
 
Chapter Eight
 
    Galad halted his horse at the eastern edge of the wide valley, admiring the clear blue waters
of the large lake that sat at the foot of the Black Tower.  The Mountains of Mist stretched to the
north and south, but here the ground was flat and covered with short green grass.  The Black
Tower itself stood at the foot of a tall, snow-capped peak, the dark spire's summit crowned by a
ring of pointed battlements.  Galad snapped his steed's reins, guiding his mount towards the large
village sprawled south of the Black Tower along the shores of the shimmering lake.
 
    The prince of Andor watched the villagers go about their daily work as he rode through the
wide street that led to the Black Tower.  Women made up most of the population, shopping,
mending, and performing other menial tasks.  Galad was shocked to find several women with the
ageless look of Aes Sedai transporting laundry or buying food from the many street side vendors.
Disturbed by the sight of servile Aes Sedai, Galad focused on the Black Tower, urging his horse to
proceed more quickly down the street.
 
 
    "Prince Galad of Andor!  I'm glad that you finally made it to the Black Tower!" welcomed
the Asha'man summoned by the Tower guards.
 
    "I'm sorry it took so long.  Some problems at home kept me from journeying here earlier."
 
    "I understand, Galad.  My name is Imlik," said the dark haired Asha'man, clasping Galad's
right arm.  "I'll be your guide and trainer during the first stage of your education."
 
    "I see," replied Galad, removing his saddlebags from his horse's saddle before a young girl
took his steed to the Tower stables.  "When do I begin my training?"
 
    "Tomorrow morning.  We'll start with sword practice, I want to see what you've picked up
from your Royal Guard trainers before I begin showing you Asha'man disciplines."
 
    "If you don't mind my asking, why are there Aes Sedai here, and doing such low-born
tasks?"
 
    "Oh, you probably just saw some bonded Aes Sedai, several were taken during the time
before Tarmon Gai'don, and we've..added to the population since then," chuckled Imlik.
 
    "Aren't you afraid that the White Tower might take offense?"
 
    "The White Tower doesn't hold much awe here, they weren't much help when Lord
al'Thor needed them, so we've taken it upon ourselves to guard the free kingdoms and keep the
people safe."
 
    "My mother still supports the White Tower," frowned Galad.
 
    "Of course, she is wise to do so since Andor lies so close to Tar Valon. The Aes Sedai
may be shadows of their former selves, but they're still dangerous, at least until they've been
bonded to one of us," smiled Imlik wolfishly.  "Ah, here is your room."
 
    Imlik opened the wooden door to the bedchamber, a simple room with a pallet, a desk with
candles and paper, a small chest for personal items, and a window that gazed upon the face of the
mountain north of the Tower.
 
    "It's not the royal palace of Andor, but it'll do until you're ready to get a house in the
village.  All Soldiers begin here, but you've shown great promise, so you shouldn't have to suffer
for long," laughed the thin Asha'man.
 
    "Uh..good," smiled Galad weakly, placing his saddlebags on top of the chest.  "If you don't
mind, I'd like to get some rest, it's been a long ride."
 
    "Of course.  See you on the practice field, you can see it from your window," pointed
Imlik before he left Galad alone in the small bedchamber.
 
    Galad sat heavily on the chair next to his room's desk, placing his chin on his raised right
fist, pondering everything he had seen and heard.
 
 
    "How was he?" asked Burk as the two black coated Asha'men drank from mugs in the
living room of Imlik's house.
 
    "Typical wide-eyed new arrival.  He seemed uncomfortable about the bonded Aes Sedai,"
replied Imlik before taking a long swig from his mug.
 
    "Probably due to the Aes Sedai influence in Andor's court.  Think he'll accept our ways?"
 
    "Once he experiences the pleasures of having a bonded Aes Sedai witch? He'll come
around, they always do," grinned Imlik.
 
    "Have you bonded that new one you picked up west of Four Kings?"
 
    "Not yet, I was saving her for tonight."
 
    "I'll leave you to her then.  Keep me informed about Galad," said Burk, emptying his mug
before setting it down and rising.
 
    "See you at lunch tomorrow," replied Imlik, escorting his superior to the outer door.  After
the Asha'man was seen off, Imlik went to the kitchen, ordering the young looking Aes Sedai
awaiting him to clear away the mugs and begin the preparations for dinner. Waiting for the girl to
bow in acknowledgment, Imlik strode eagerly to his large, plush bedchambers, where Moraine
Damodred lay on his huge bed, bound to the headboard of the bed by her wrists.
 
    "Sorry to keep you waiting, my angel," chuckled Imlik, removing his black coat.
 
    "What do you want with me?" asked Moraine sharply, her wrists raw from her futile
struggles.
 
    "I want another Aes Sedai bitch under my command, Lord Burk has five of your sisters
bonded to him," said Imlik as he opened his white shirt before crawling up onto the bed next to
Moraine.
 
    "You..bond Aes Sedai?  Impossible!"
 
    "My, you have been out of touch," smiled Imlik, reaching out to caress Moraine's pale
forehead with his right hand.  Moraine jerked away from the Asha'man's touch, but he merely
held her down with his left hand to stroke her temples with his right.  "Don't fight it, it will hurt
more if you do."
 
    Moraine gasped when she felt Imlik embrace Saidin, weaving an intricate pattern of Spirit
and Air inside her mind, similar to the pattern she had woven to bond Lan so many years ago.  A
dull ache began to throb in Moraine's brain, she groaned as the agony grew, pulsing within her like
a living thing.  She quivered beneath the looming Asha'man, clutching at the bedspread beneath
her with desperate, clawing fingers.
 
    "Please..stop!" panted Moraine, sweat beading across her lovely face.
 
    "Not until you are bound to me..Moraine," growled Imlik, the bond between them growing
stronger with each new shuddering breath.
 
      Moraine bit her lower lip, digging her teeth deeper and deeper until blood burst from her
skin, dripping down her graceful chin.  She moaned, her breasts heaving as she felt her mind open
up to Imlik, she could feel his dark desire, his desperate hunger became hers. She screamed when
the final link was forged, she was now bonded to the Asha'man leaning over her, who was now
nuzzling her hair with his triumphant face.
 
 
    The heart of Shayol Ghul shook from the thunder roaring above the tall mountain.  Shafts
of light blinked to life, illuminating the gathered Forsaken and high ranking Darkfriends invited to
watch Delana Trakand's swearing to the Shadow.  At the very center of the stygian darkness sat
Shaidar Haran upon his obsidian throne, Aviendha kneeling at his feet, naked and chained at the
wrists and ankles.
 
    "You bear witness to a rare event, the creation of a new Chosen," murmured Shaidar,
petting Aviendha's filthy auburn hair.  The Myrddraal stood up, leaving the chained Aiel woman
to stride to the center of the gathered audience.
 
    "You have been called to witness Delana's surrender to the Shadow," said Shaidar in a
loud voice that filled every crevice of the immense cavern.  "Though our Master, the Dark One,
has been sealed away from this world, his devoted servants remain.  We will create the world our
Lord wanted, and we will crush those who opposed his holy endeavor.  The Shadow is eternal!"
 
    "The Shadow is eternal!" shouted everyone assembled, raising their right arms in salute.
 
    "Come, Delana Trakand, Princess-Heir of Andor, Chosen of the Dark One!"
 
    Delana sedately walked from the darkness into the massive shaft of light where Shaidar
Haran stood.  She wore a simple black robe, her long curly golden hair cascading down her back.
When she halted in front of the red-cloaked Myrddraal, she opened her robe, letting the garment
fall to the cold rock floor.
 
    Shaidar drew a black dagger from one of his belt sheaths, the weapon gleaming in the
harsh light, drawing the naked girl's blue-eyed gaze.
 
    "Do you offer your body and soul to the Dark One, to Shai'Tan?" asked Shaidar.
 
    "Yes!" replied Delana fervently.
 
    "Do you promise to serve the Dark One, to spread his Shadow across the entire world?"
 
    "I do."
 
    "Raise your right hand."
 
    Delana obeyed, raising her right hand, palm facing Shaidar.
 
    "Since the Age of Legends, the Dark One has elevated His most devout servants to the
rank of Chosen, granting them immortality and a share of His infinite power. The Lord of
Shadows is gone for now, but much of His power remains here, within Shayol Ghul, His holy
mountain.  His essence permeates every stone, every speck of dust, He is with us always.  I now
grant you a portion of the power stored within Shayol Ghul, I share His strength so that we might
cloak the world in blessed Shadow one day."
 
    "We shall cloak the world in Shadow!" chanted the assembled dark servants.
 
    Shaidar stabbed Delana's palm with the Thakan'dar-forged dagger.  The ordinarily lethal
weapon froze the blood within Delana's hand, spreading its numbing poison throughout the naked
girl's body.  Shaidar seized Saidin, weaving flows Delana couldn't fathom with her limited
training.  The weight of Shayol Ghul seemed to crash down upon Delana's thin shoulders, she
bent double under the strain, only her right hand remained upright, pinned in place by the dagger
driven through it.  Sweat flowed down Delana's bare breasts and stomach, her body shivered with
the shock of her transformation.  The princess screamed when Saidin poured into her body,
altering her, marking her as the Chosen of the Dark One.
 
    Shaidar withdrew the dagger in Delana's hand with one swift pull, the wound sealing
instantly shut.  Delana hugged her numb right hand against her panting breasts, her skin pale with
shock, every inch of her body throbbing with exquisite pain.
 
    "You are now the Chosen of the Dark One, you exist solely to do His will. From now until
the end of all things, there is no Light, no love, no hope, only Shadow."
 
    "There is only Shadow," whispered the audience before the entire chamber was filled with
darkness.
 
 
    Egwene, wearing the multi-colored stole of the Amyrlin Seat, was the last to enter the large
meeting chamber.  The Sitters of all the White Tower's Ajahs waited, sitting quietly or whispering
to those around them.  Egwene walked past all of them, her gaze focused straight ahead, her long
brown hair tied in a tightly bound ponytail.  She strode over the seal of the White Tower, which
was embedded within the white marble floor with swirls of smooth obsidian and ivory.  The slim
young woman turned to face the assembled Sitters, descending onto the cushioned chair reserved
for the Amyrlin Seat.
 
    "We thought that Tarmon Gai'don would end the threat of the Shadow once and for all, as
was prophesied by our sisters in the mists of Time.  We were wrong, the White Tower was
wrong," said Egwene, while Sitters muttered disapprovingly.
 
    "The Shadow still exists, it hides within the Blight, healing its wounds, preparing to strike
when we least expect it.  It hides within the people, seducing them, twisting them with promises of
eternal life and dominion over their neighbors.  It also hides within the Asha'men.  These so-called
Guardians have preyed on helpless travelers and kidnaped many of our sisters, obscenely bonding
them to be virtual slaves in their service.  The Border Kingdoms have been charged to patrol the
Blight, the kings and queens of the free nations are responsible for maintaining order in their
realms, we must deal with the Asha'men.  As of today, the White Tower declares war on the
Black Tower.  We will send an army to gentle the Asha'men and bring down the symbol of evil
that now threatens all of the Ajahs and the freedom we fought so hard to protect.  We will spare
whoever surrenders to us, but if the Asha'men choose to fight us, they will die.  This is the will of
the Amyrlin Seat.  Let it be recorded so in the annals of the White Tower for all time."
 
 
Epilogue:
 
    Moraine al'Thor sat upon the slope of the mountain, watching as the sun rose, illuminating
the huge Aiel camp and the city of Fal Dara to the south.  She glanced towards Jherkar as he
climbed smoothly up the rough rock face to join her.
 
    "You missed morning meal again," rebuked Jherkar, offering the silent girl a bread roll and
a flask of goat's milk from a satchel hanging from his waist.  Moraine merely held the roll and
flask until the tall Aiel coughed loudly.  Reluctantly, Moraine chewed the warm roll and drowned
it with a swig of sweet milk.
 
    "Aviendha said not to follow her to Shayol Ghul, she told you herself."
 
    "I can't leave her there.  I can't let them do to her what they did to me."
 
    "I know," sighed Jherkar, resting his strong left hand on Moraine's right shoulder.  "You
would not be Aiel if you could allow such a thing."
 
    "Will they follow me?  I'm just a Maiden in training, I've only been in battle once, and I
lost."
 
    "They will follow you, you have the blood of the Car'a'carn, that means a great deal to
many of the septs."
 
    "I'm afraid, Jherkar," whispered Moraine, leaning her head on the Aiel's strong arm.
 
    "I will be with you, Moraine, even if you storm the gates of Shayol Ghul itself."
 
    "I will, Jherkar, that's what my mother would do," promised Moraine softly, the sun
warming her brown skin as it ascended into the clear blue sky.
 
 
The End.