Dax
Dax disliked being so far from Elia. He had known what the bond would do to him and yet the foundational change in his psyche still managed to surprise him. Standing by her side in literal or figurative sense was no longer a choice, but a life-sustaining principle, a source of joy that brought light to his thoughts and a new spring to his step. He was nearly sixty, but he felt thirty again- alive, full of purpose, sure of himself in a way he had never been.
“You’re cheerful. What’s on your mind?” Malina leaned against the crenel, arms crossed over her chest. She was older now as well, her black hair peppered with silver and her lips less plump than they had been. Nothing had changed about those green eyes though, nor the wiry energy that vibrated through her small body. He suspected she would always be thunder and lightning bound up in black leather armor, dangerous and alluring at the same time.
Dax’s teeth flashed in an easy grin as he turned his gaze toward the rolling fields of Shienar outside the wall. It was strangely beautiful, that austere expanse of gray and green. The Borderlands were just as cold as he remembered, Shadowspawn just as horrific, patrols just as boring, yet he viewed it all through a different lens now. Light, everything is different.
“Finding a woman does that,” Malina observed. The Tairen blinked in confusion, then laughed as he realized he had spoken aloud.
“Am I that transparent?”
“As northern air,” Malina told him cheerfully. “Tell me, does she kiss as well as I do?”
“Better,” Dax responded immediately, eyes sliding sideways to gauge her reaction.
“I’m devastated, pumpkin. Whatever shall I do with my acres of wounded pride?”
“I’m sure Kellen would be happy to patch it up. Or...what’s her name. Tami? I seem to recall you saying her mouth must have healing properties.” Malina rolled her eyes and made as if to punch him; Dax danced backward with a chuckle.
Some time passed in easy repartee before Malina brought the topic back around. “So, this woman. She truly makes you happy?” Dax nodded, and the Saldaean woman clapped his shoulder in companionable acceptance. “I know where to dump a body if that ever changes.”
---
All tours come to an end, of course. Dax stood in the courtyard until the Asha’man on duty could make him a Gateway. It happened to be Kellen; Dax’s lips twitched remembering his conversation with Malina. Eventually the man called for him and Dax strolled forward. “Back to the Tower, please,” he said. Back home. To his children, to his lover, to the life he had finally learned to value.
A line of white light appeared, rotating open too fast for sight, yet somehow also taking too long. The Gateway barely had time to settle before a wave of wrong slammed through Dax’s mind. From a distance all he could sense was Elia’s approximate location; the hole in the air opened a direct path, however, and the tumult that assaulted him was almost too much to bear. Colors warred in his mind, sharp hues of fear and outrage and pain and despair, yet they were oddly muted, too. She’s unconscious.
Dax ducked through the Gateway immediately, panic squashing every other thought. A tiny woman in green immediately presented herself, blonde hair glowing in the sun. “Welcome home, Gaidin,” Fiona said. “Riahana-”
The Gaidin cut her off with a sharp gesture. “Later,” he snapped. “Where is Elia?” It was a moot question, but they had not yet discussed how public their bond would be. Better to have a logical explanation, just in case. His eyes followed the bond to the top of the Tower, however, studying the glass spire with particular ferocity.
“The Amyrlin?” Fiona cocked her head to the side, considering. “Probably-”
Dax growled, urgency overtaking his caution in the blink of an eye. “She needs me. Out of my way, Aes Sedai.” He lifted the Green by the shoulders and set her aside as easily as he might a sack of flour.
He had the entirety of the Tower grounds to traverse, miles of corridors, hundreds of stairs. It didn’t matter. He was running, running, every scrap of his existence focused on the bond that sputtered and sparked within his mind. If his body protested the abuse, he never noticed.
The Keeper’s study was empty when he arrived and Elia’s door posed no challenge. Beyond that obstacle lay...nothing. The Gaidin closed the door behind him with care, frowning as he surveyed the room. No signs of a struggle were present; in fact, there were no signs of life at all. Elia could as easily have stepped out for lunch if not for the overpowering sense of pain and presence that pounded in his head. What happened?
He found Elia behind her desk. It took some effort to move her outside the circle of Illusion, but once he had it did not take a lot of wit to understand the source of her pain.
“Elia,” he whispered, fingers gentle as he first examined the wound, then carefully wadded her skirts up in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. His mind was racing, calculating the distance between her study and the Infirmary. If he moved her, would she survive? If he left to find a healer, would- he choked off a sob. “Elia, wake up. Please, love. I need to get help, but-” but I’m afraid I’ll never see you again if I do.