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The days in Emond's Field passed with a quiet rhythm, each one blending seamlessly into the next. Kael had been in the village for only a few weeks, yet it felt as though he had lived there for years. The simplicity of life in the Two Rivers was a stark contrast to the chaos of the modern world he had left behind. Here, people rose with the sun, worked until their backs ached, and retired with the stars overhead. There were no distractions, no constant buzz of technology to drown out their thoughts. It was peaceful, almost idyllic.
Kael had taken to working at the Winespring Inn, helping Bran al'Vere with the myriad tasks that came with running the establishment. He chopped firewood, hauled barrels of ale, and cleaned tables, all the while listening to the chatter of the villagers. Though most treated him with polite curiosity, there was an underlying wariness in their interactions. Strangers were rare in the Two Rivers, and Kael's arrival had sparked more than a few whispered conversations. Still, he kept his head down, focused on earning their trust.
Rand al'Thor was the first to truly acknowledge him. The young shepherd had a kind heart and an easy smile, often stopping to chat while delivering wool or tending to the inn's sheep. Kael found himself drawn to Rand's quiet strength, his unassuming nature. He saw in Rand the spark of destiny, the weight of the Pattern's threads beginning to weave around him. But for now, Rand was just a boy, unaware of the role he would play in the battles to come.
Mat Cauthon and Perrin Aybara were harder to pin down. Mat's mischievous grin and quick wit were a constant source of amusement, but Kael sensed a restlessness in him, a desire for adventure that often led to trouble. Perrin, on the other hand, was steady and thoughtful, his quiet demeanor masking a deep well of emotions. Kael admired Perrin's patience, his willingness to listen rather than speak. But there was a sadness in Perrin's eyes, a burden Kael couldn't quite understand.
Egwene al'Vere was a force of nature, her determination and curiosity setting her apart from the other villagers. She had dreams of leaving the Two Rivers, of seeing the world beyond the mountains. Kael couldn't help but wonder if the Pattern had already begun to shape her path, guiding her toward her destiny as a wielder of the One Power.
Kael's own role in the village was less clear. He was an outsider, a thread in the tapestry that shouldn't exist. But the villagers were kind, their hospitality genuine, even if their trust was slow to come. Kael worked hard to prove himself, joining them in their daily tasks and offering a helping hand whenever needed. He knew he couldn't reveal the truth of his presence—not yet. The True Power was a secret he had to guard, a burden he carried alone.
----
Kael rose each morning before dawn, the faint gray light barely illuminating the horizon. The village was still quiet, the only sounds the distant bleating of sheep and the soft rustle of wind through the fields. He found solace in these early hours, when the world felt untouched and he could focus solely on himself and the work ahead.
His first task was to rebuild his strength. Though his body was whole and unmarked by the accident that had ended his life in the modern world, it felt weak, untrained. He had never been the kind to push his physical limits before, but now he had no choice. The Pattern had woven him into this world, and he couldn't afford to remain ordinary. He had to be ready for what lay ahead.
Kael started simple: running along the winding dirt paths that led through the fields and into the forest. His boots kicked up small clouds of dust as he pushed himself, his breath coming in uneven bursts. The terrain was challenging, the ground uneven and dotted with roots and stones that threatened to trip him at every turn. But he pressed on, each step a small victory in his quest to strengthen his body.
As the days passed, he added more to his routine. He began chopping wood for the inn's fireplace, swinging the axe with deliberate force until his arms ached. The rhythmic crack of the blade against the logs became a kind of meditation, grounding him in the present. He also practiced climbing trees, scaling their gnarled trunks to build his flexibility and balance. The villagers occasionally gave him curious looks as he worked, but no one questioned his efforts. In the Two Rivers, hard work was respected, and Kael was determined to earn his place among them.
His training wasn't just physical, though. Kael knew that strength alone wouldn't be enough to protect Rand and the others. He had to learn to fight. With no formal training and no access to weapons, he started with the basics. He watched Tam al'Thor in the fields, studying the older man's movements as he wielded his shepherd's crook with the precision of a blade. Kael practiced these motions in secret, using a sturdy branch he had carved into a makeshift staff. He mimicked Tam's stances, his strikes, his parries, repeating them until they felt natural.
The first few weeks were grueling, his body protesting every step of the way. His muscles ached, his hands blistered, and more than once he considered giving up. But each time doubt crept in, he reminded himself of his purpose. He thought of Rand, Mat, Perrin, and Egwene—their lives intertwined with his own, their destinies resting on the choices he made. He couldn't afford to falter, not now.
Gradually, his efforts began to pay off. His stamina improved, his movements became more fluid, and his strength grew with each passing day. The villagers started to notice the change, though they said little. Rand, in particular, seemed intrigued, often watching Kael from a distance as he worked in the fields or practiced his staff techniques. Kael didn't mind the attention; in fact, he welcomed it. He knew that earning Rand's trust would be crucial in the months to come.
Kael's routine also extended to the forest, where he found solace in the quiet and isolation. He used the trees as obstacles, weaving through their trunks and branches as he honed his agility. He practiced balancing on fallen logs, his arms outstretched to maintain his footing. He even ventured to the small stream where he had first seen his reflection, using its cold waters to refresh himself after particularly grueling sessions.
The villagers began to accept Kael as part of their community, though they still regarded him with caution. He worked hard to earn their trust, joining them in tasks like mending fences and repairing roofs. He often shared meals with them, listening to their stories and offering his own—though he always disguised the truth of his origins. The Two Rivers was becoming more than just a place to live; it was becoming a home.
----
The forest was Kael's refuge, a haven where he could escape the prying eyes of Emond's Field and the weight of his secrets. It was here, deep among the towering trees and twisting roots, that he came to grapple with the force now coursing through him—the True Power. The shadows that stirred within him felt alive, restless, waiting to be shaped by his will. Yet Kael knew the risks. Every use of this power left its mark, a toll not just on his body but on his very soul.
He ventured far from the village to a secluded clearing he had claimed as his own. Shielded by thick oaks and tangled brush, it offered both privacy and silence, a perfect setting for his training. The rocky outcrop at the edge of the clearing became his focal point, a test of his control and endurance.
The first attempts were cautious. Kael focused his thoughts, reaching inward to summon the shadows. They came hesitantly at first, curling faintly around his fingers like tendrils of smoke. It was a strange sensation, both exhilarating and unsettling, as though he were pulling a thread from a vast, dark tapestry. Slowly, he began to shape them, willing the shadows to form patterns in the air, to lift small stones from the ground. The simplicity of these tasks belied the effort they required. His chest tightened with each use, the ache growing sharper the longer he wielded the power.
The forest seemed to change around him as he trained. The air grew colder, heavier, and the quiet hum of nature became distant. It was as though the world itself recoiled from the presence of the True Power, unwilling to acknowledge its existence. Kael couldn't blame it. Even as he grew more adept at summoning the shadows, he felt their darkness gnawing at him, whispering temptations he refused to entertain.
Weeks turned into months, and Kael pushed himself further. He experimented with lifting heavier objects, using the shadows to hurl them across the clearing or shatter them against the rocks. He practiced healing small cuts and bruises, marveling at how the wounds vanished under the touch of the True Power. But every success came at a cost, the toll leaving him drained and unsettled. It was a delicate balance—power and consequence, strength and sacrifice.
Kael also began to test the limits of the energy itself. He shaped the shadows into precise forms, creating intricate patterns that danced in the air like strands of smoke. He used the power to ignite dry branches, the flames flickering with an eerie, unnatural glow. He even attempted to summon brief bursts of energy, powerful enough to scar the rocky outcrop. The results were impressive, but they carried a heavy price. Each burst of energy left him gasping for breath, his body trembling from the strain.
Though Kael tried to keep his training hidden, he occasionally felt the sensation of being watched. It was faint at first—a rustle of leaves, a shadow at the edge of his vision—but it grew stronger as the weeks passed. One afternoon, as Kael practiced forming the shadows into tendrils, he heard the unmistakable snap of a twig. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest, and scanned the edge of the clearing.
Through the trees, he caught a glimpse of red hair and a familiar face. Rand al'Thor stood at a distance, partially hidden behind a gnarled trunk. Kael's breath caught, his mind racing with possibilities. Rand had clearly followed him, drawn by curiosity or suspicion. For a moment, Kael considered confronting him, demanding that he leave and forget what he had seen. But something stopped him.
Kael continued his training, pretending not to notice Rand's presence. He shaped the shadows into intricate patterns, lifting stones and igniting small branches. Rand remained silent, his wide eyes fixed on Kael's movements. The boy's curiosity was evident, but Kael could sense no hostility or fear. If anything, Rand seemed awestruck, as though witnessing something he couldn't fully comprehend.
As the afternoon wore on, Kael finished his training and extinguished the shadows. He gathered his belongings and left the clearing without acknowledging Rand, allowing the boy to make his own conclusions. Kael knew that trust was something earned slowly, and perhaps this was the first step in building a bond that would carry them through the trials ahead. For now, though, he kept his secrets close, knowing that the Pattern would reveal them in time.
----
The clearing was quiet, the shadows Kael had summoned moments ago still lingering faintly in the air. The energy he had wielded crackled softly before dissipating, leaving behind an eerie stillness that even the forest seemed to acknowledge. Kael stood motionless, his breath steadying after the intense focus and effort his training had required.
But his peace never lasted long. The villagers of Emond's Field, while welcoming in their own way, were always watching. None more so than Nynaeve al'Meara, the village Wisdom. Nynaeve had taken notice of him from the moment he arrived at the Winespring Inn. Though she treated everyone with her usual stern demeanor, Kael could feel her scrutiny whenever they crossed paths. It was as if she were constantly searching for a flaw, a reason to question his place in the community.
He didn't blame her. It was Nynaeve's role to care for and protect the people of the Two Rivers, and a stranger appearing out of nowhere was bound to raise suspicions. Kael had done his best to stay out of her way, keeping his interactions with her polite but brief. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was always two steps ahead, always waiting for him to slip up.
Now, as he finished his training session deep in the woods, Kael felt a new sensation—the unmistakable awareness of being watched. He had noticed it before, fleeting glimpses of movement at the edge of the clearing, but this time it was different. There was no attempt to hide, no subtlety in the approach. Someone was there, standing just beyond the trees.
Kael turned his head slowly, his gaze sweeping over the twisted trunks and dense brush. Finally, he caught sight of the figure—a flash of red hair, a familiar face. Rand al'Thor stood at a distance, partially hidden behind a gnarled tree. The boy's expression was a mix of guilt and curiosity, his blue-gray eyes wide as they flickered between Kael and the clearing.
Kael sighed, the tension draining from his shoulders. Rand had been following him for weeks now, silently observing his training from afar. Kael had pretended not to notice, allowing the boy to satisfy his curiosity without confrontation. But now, Kael knew it was time to address the situation. If he was going to keep training in the forest, he couldn't afford to have Rand sneaking around, asking questions he wasn't ready to answer.
"Rand," Kael said evenly, his voice carrying across the clearing. "You can come out now."
There was a moment of hesitation, the sound of a twig snapping underfoot, and then Rand stepped out from behind the tree. His posture was stiff, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Kael could see the questions written plainly across his face, but Rand remained silent, as though unsure of what to say.
"You've been watching me," Kael continued, keeping his tone calm but firm. "How long?"
Rand hesitated, his gaze shifting to the ground. "I didn't mean any harm," he said finally. "I just... I saw you coming out here, and I was curious."
Kael studied Rand closely, gauging his sincerity. The boy's curiosity was genuine, untainted by judgment or fear. Still, Kael knew the danger of letting Rand see too much. The True Power was not something to be taken lightly, and even an innocent glimpse of it could raise questions he wasn't ready to answer.
Before Kael could respond, another voice cut through the quiet—a voice sharp and commanding. "Curiosity doesn't mean you can snoop wherever you please, Rand al'Thor."
Kael turned to see Nynaeve al'Meara stepping into the clearing, her braid nearly vibrating with frustration. She had the uncanny ability to appear at the most inconvenient moments, as though the Pattern itself conspired to place her wherever trouble brewed. Her dark eyes locked onto Rand, then shifted to Kael, narrowing with suspicion.
"Nynaeve," Kael said carefully, inclining his head in a gesture of respect. "What brings you out here?"
"I could ask you the same question," she replied, her tone icy. "And I think the answer would be very interesting, don't you?"
Kael bit back a sigh, forcing himself to remain calm. Nynaeve was not someone to be antagonized, not if he wanted to keep any semblance of peace in Emond's Field. Still, her presence complicated things. He couldn't afford to let her see too much, not when her protective instincts were already on high alert.
"I come out here to train," Kael said simply. "For my own reasons."
Nynaeve raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Training for what? You're not a soldier, and Emond's Field doesn't have much need for warriors."
"It's... personal," Kael replied, choosing his words carefully. "Just something I do to keep myself sharp. The world outside the Two Rivers can be dangerous."
Nynaeve's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, as though weighing the truth of his words. Finally, she huffed and turned her attention to Rand. "And you. Sneaking around like a fox in a henhouse. Do you know how much trouble you could have caused?"
"I'm sorry, Nynaeve," Rand said quickly, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to... I was just curious."
"Curiosity is a good way to get yourself into trouble," Nynaeve snapped. "Go back to the village. Now."
Rand glanced at Kael, his expression apologetic, before nodding and retreating into the woods. Kael watched him go, a mixture of relief and unease settling in his chest. Rand was young and impulsive, but he was also the key to everything. Kael knew he had to tread carefully, to guide Rand without revealing too much.
Nynaeve turned back to Kael, her expression unreadable. "I don't know what you're hiding, but I'll find out," she said, her voice low and pointed. "Mark my words."
With that, she turned and strode out of the clearing, leaving Kael alone with his thoughts. The encounter had left him shaken, his carefully constructed facade beginning to crack. But Kael knew he couldn't stop now. The Pattern was tightening around them all, and the days of peace in Emond's Field were quickly running out.
----
As the months passed, Kael settled into the rhythm of life in Emond's Field. The work was hard, but there was a certain satisfaction in the simplicity of it. He spent his mornings at the Winespring Inn, hauling barrels and chopping wood under Bran al'Vere's watchful eye. Afternoons were often filled with tasks in the fields or helping to repair the occasional broken fence or wagon wheel. His evenings, however, were reserved for quiet reflection—or, when possible, his secret training in the forest.
The villagers had grown used to his presence, though not all had fully accepted him. Children giggled as they ran past him, their shyness fading over time, and the adults now nodded in greeting when they crossed paths. Still, Kael could feel the undercurrent of curiosity that lingered whenever he entered a room or joined a conversation. He was an outsider, after all, and outsiders were rare in the Two Rivers. But Kael played his part well, keeping his true purpose hidden and focusing on building relationships with the people he was destined to protect.
He often found himself drawn to the young people of the village—the ones whose lives would soon be irrevocably changed. Rand, Mat, and Perrin continued to orbit around him, each one occasionally seeking him out for a chat or a bit of advice. Mat, with his boundless energy and mischievous grin, loved to tease Kael about his "city ways," though Kael countered with jokes of his own, earning the boy's reluctant admiration. Perrin, on the other hand, often worked alongside Kael in silence, the two of them sharing a quiet camaraderie born from their mutual respect for hard labor. And then there was Rand, whose natural kindness and curiosity seemed to grow with each passing day.
Kael kept a careful distance, knowing that any bond he formed with them would have consequences. But even he couldn't resist the pull of their youthful energy, the hope and determination that radiated from them. They reminded him of what he had lost—and what he stood to gain by ensuring their survival.
Egwene al'Meara, however, was a force to be reckoned with. Sharp-witted and endlessly curious, she had taken it upon herself to figure out exactly who Kael was and what he was hiding. She often peppered him with questions, her dark eyes alight with amusement whenever he stumbled over an answer. Kael found her both frustrating and endearing, her confidence a reminder of the strength that lay within her. He knew that one day, Egwene would wield a power far greater than she could imagine. For now, though, she was simply Egwene, and Kael cherished the chance to know her before the Pattern claimed her fully.
Of course, Nynaeve al'Meara remained a constant presence, her sharp tongue and even sharper instincts keeping everyone in line. She continued to watch Kael with a mix of suspicion and protectiveness, her role as Wisdom driving her to ensure the safety of the village at all costs. Kael respected her immensely, even as he worked to avoid her questions. He knew that Nynaeve's strength and determination would serve her well in the battles to come, but for now, she was one of the few people who could unsettle him with a single glance.
As Bel Tine approached, the village buzzed with excitement. Preparations for the festival were in full swing, and Kael found himself swept up in the activity. He helped raise poles for the ribbons, repaired carts for the traveling peddlers, and even assisted Mat in constructing a crude but impressive display of fireworks. The work was exhausting but rewarding, the sense of community a balm for the loneliness that still lingered in Kael's heart.
Yet despite the joy of the season, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming. It wasn't just the knowledge he carried from the books and show—it was something deeper, an instinct that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. The Pattern was shifting, the threads weaving tighter with each passing day. He could feel it in the air, in the way the villagers spoke in hushed tones of strange happenings beyond the mountains, in the tension that seemed to ripple just beneath the surface of daily life.
Kael's dreams, too, had begun to change. They were vivid and unsettling, filled with flashes of fire and shadow, of battles fought in distant lands and voices calling out to him from the darkness. He saw Rand, Mat, Perrin, and Egwene standing together against an unseen enemy, their faces etched with determination. He saw Nynaeve wielding her strength like a weapon, her braided hair whipping in the wind as she stood defiant. And he saw himself, a shadow among shadows, his hands wreathed in darkness as he fought to protect those who could not protect themselves.
One night, Kael sat by the fire in the common room of the Winespring Inn, his thoughts heavy with the weight of these visions. The villagers around him laughed and shared stories, their joy a stark contrast to the unease that churned within him. He glanced at Rand, who sat across the room with Mat and Perrin, their friendship so natural and unburdened. Kael envied them, their innocence and freedom. But he knew it wouldn't last.
The Pattern was tightening, its threads drawing closer. Moiraine and Lan would arrive soon, bringing with them the knowledge and power that would change everything. Kael wasn't sure he was ready, but he had no choice. The wheel of events had begun to turn, and there was no stopping it now.
----
The winds in Emond's Field shifted.
Kael felt it before he saw it—a subtle change in the air, colder and sharper, carrying with it a sense of urgency that prickled at the edges of his senses. The stillness that had defined the past months vanished, replaced by a tension that made the villagers glance uneasily at the horizon as they went about their tasks. It was as though the world itself had taken a deep breath, waiting for the next moment to unfold.
Kael stood at the edge of the green, watching as life carried on around him. Rand and Mat were arguing over something trivial, their voices carrying on the breeze, while Perrin worked nearby, repairing a wagon wheel. Egwene passed by with a basket of freshly baked bread, her dark braid swinging as she offered Kael a quick smile. Even Nynaeve seemed distracted, her sharp gaze flicking toward the mountains in the distance more often than usual.
And then they came.
The first thing Kael noticed was the rider—tall, broad-shouldered, and clad in black and gray. He moved with a grace and purpose that set him apart from anyone Kael had ever seen. The man's features were sharp, his eyes piercing as they scanned the village with an intensity that made Kael's breath catch. There was no mistaking him: Lan Mandragoran, Moiraine's Warder.
But it was the second figure that made Kael's chest tighten.
She rode beside Lan, her demeanor calm yet commanding, her dark blue cloak shimmering faintly in the sunlight. Her presence was magnetic, drawing the gaze of every villager in the green as they stopped what they were doing to watch her approach. Kael recognized her immediately—Moiraine Sedai. The Aes Sedai who would set the Pattern into motion, who would reveal the truth that would shatter everything.
Kael's heart raced as he watched them dismount near the Winespring Inn. Bran al'Vere came out to greet them, his expression a mix of curiosity and politeness as he welcomed the strangers to Emond's Field. The villagers began to gather, murmurs spreading like wildfire as they tried to make sense of the newcomers. Kael remained rooted to his spot, his mind spinning as he realized the turning of the Wheel had begun.
He knew what was coming—the attack, the revelations, the choices that would lead Rand, Mat, Perrin, and Egwene out of the Two Rivers and into the wider world. Kael had been preparing for this moment, but now that it was here, he felt an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. What was his role in all of this? How could he guide the young heroes without revealing too much? And what would Moiraine see in him if she looked too closely?
Lan's piercing gaze swept over the crowd, and Kael fought the urge to flinch. The Warder's instincts were sharp, his presence formidable, but it was Moiraine who truly unsettled Kael. Her calm, calculating expression betrayed a depth of knowledge and power that reminded Kael of the precarious balance he maintained with the True Power. If she sensed it within him, what would she do? Could he hide it from her?
Kael forced himself to focus, watching as Moiraine addressed Bran and the villagers. Her voice carried over the crowd, its tone measured and deliberate as she explained her presence in the village. She spoke of seeking shelter for the night, of traveling through the Westlands on a journey of importance. Her words were carefully chosen, revealing nothing of the storm that would soon sweep through Emond's Field.
As the crowd began to disperse, Kael lingered near the edge of the green, his thoughts heavy with the weight of the moment. Rand caught his eye briefly, his expression curious, but Kael quickly looked away. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself, not now. He needed to watch, to listen, to prepare for the events that would soon unfold.