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by Lisse Once the crumbling dome had been part of a great palace or mansion, a monument to some society's power. Now it was all that remained - a ruin on the windswept plains north of the Tashiri border. Both Quentin A'sh'man and Lady Blueford had called it the Dome of Truth. Tem E'Brell called it a piece of junk. Pulling her broad hat over her eyes, the scrappy teenager scrambled over a fallen pillar, dragging her spear after her. Even so far from civilization, she was a strange figure. Her short brown hair was gathered into a ponytail and held in place by a sparkling silver clasp, while her tunic and breeches had not seen soap in days, if not weeks. There was something in her crooked, permanent smile that suggested she was pulling the wool over someone's eyes, as had usually been the case in her home village of Baradell. "Mai!" She growled a few choice curses under her breath. Cursing was as much her specialty as pranks. "Mai! Mairya bloody DeShellay! If you want your bloody stew, come and bloody get it before I eat it for you!" A dark head popped up from behind a pile of rubble, brilliant green eyes staring straight past Tem as they scanned something on the far wall. Mai DeShellay's black curls were in the sort of disarray that only set in when no brush was allowed to tackle them. Her gray dress had seen better days, as had the bonnet jammed haphazardly on her head. Tem glared at her. "Mai, did anyone ever tell you that you are bloody deaf?" Mai did not answer. She tilted her head to look up at the broken ceiling. As she moved, the light caught on the golden, sinuous line winding around her temple and down her cheek. A serpent with four legs and a lion's mane. The symbol of the Dragon and the Worldbreaker. The symbol of the Paladin, the one who would be born into the darkest hour of the Fourth Age to save the world from itself and from the Shadow. "Mai?" Something icy closed around Tem's heart. "Mai, can you hear me?" Nothing. No answer. Mai might as well have been alone. Tem licked suddenly dry lips, her grip on her spear tightening until her knuckles were white. Quentin had told her, of course, and she had seen the signs more than anyone, but surely... "Rand?" Mai jumped and spun around so quickly that her bonnet fell off. "Light, Mat, don't sneak up on me like that!" Light protect and preserve me. The icy fist closed around her heart. "Tem. I'm Tem, remember?" It sounded more like a plea than anything else. "I'm Tem E'Brell and you're Mai DeShellay." "Tem?" It sounded like a child sounding out a strange new word. Mai closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side as if to clear it. When she looked at Tem's pale face again, she had a worried frown on her face. "Tem, what is it? You look terrible." Somehow, Tem made her words flippant and off-hand. "Jaia made stew. I came up here to tell you." "Jaia?" Mai grinned, clearly not able to picture their tall, thoughtful friend actually cooking a meal. "That bad, huh?" Tem smiled weakly. "It's still dinner, right? You should probably get down there before Quentin takes it." "Bloody A'sh'man would, too." Mai scooped up her bonnet and hurried out of the ruin, her glittering mark flashing as she vanished from sight. Tem leaned against her spear as if it was all that supported her. It did not matter, she tried to tell herself. It did not matter that her childhood friend was the Worldbreaker and the Dragon come again - the Paladin who would destroy everyone she loved to save the world. It did not matter that Tem herself, along with Mai and Jaia Mideer, were the vereni around which the the Age itself spun, or that Trocs and Shady-Men and Grayknives and Light only knew what else were hunting them. It did not matter, because there was nothing that could separate the three girls from a village in North Manthrin. Tem trusted Mai with her life, even if Mai could kill her with a thought. She trusted her. She did. For a moment, a half-remembered melody drifted across her thoughts, so hazy that she could never be sure that she had not made it up. But she heard it's message and it chilled her as much as Mai's strange behavior. Trust is the color of death. Closing her eyes and her mind to the future, Tem started out of the ruins, still supported by her spear. Trust was everything. In the end, it was all that she had left. She just wished the dice would stop rolling in her head. Return to the main page! |
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