It was understandable. Even now the townspeople, their faces daubed with the greasy residue of their smoldering home, held Val in place, eyes pleading for deliverance while strands of the One Power defied his will. Saidin roared at him. The wild call for destruction and release boiling his blood, encouraging the Battle Rage to take its toll on his focus, but the Void dampened the storm of emotion…for now.
Mistress Ubriel had entrusted him to provide a means of escape and given the previous day’s failure Val had been eager to prove himself; so much so that he’d skimped the fact that forming Gateway’s was something he’d never created under instruction. C’mon! Ya got the Flows, jus’ Weave them the way ya saw it done! he fumed at himself while his fingers trembled in hesitation.
A strange thing it was to experience fear even while in the cold embrace of the Void, where emotion and distraction were like mites on a horse’s flank.
In a breath the storm of Saidin swelled within him and he drank the river of power, its torrents threatening to burn him through to the very nerves of his fingertips. The arrival at Kataba had left little time for observance. Much of the fortress had been burned, obscuring clear view of the land, but with time pressing a rough estimate would have to do. Instinctively Val reached out with the Power, bending the Pattern so that there is no space between where he stood now and the elsewhere he would send these people. Immediately he thought of the Grey Tower, its open Travelling grounds providing ample access for those who would need Healing. More importantly was that aid could be called when channelers saw the dire situation through the Gateway.
It wasn’t easy. The Pattern was an oily thing, its fabrics so complex Val’s mind contorted on itself a thousand times simply bending a portion of it. For time the Flows of Spirit found no purchase and more than he once any leverage gained was lost in the pursuance of another when he added a touch of Fire as he’d seen done before. The amount of time that passed was only measured behind the sharp cries of the slain and the nearby whimpers of mother holding their children. Strangely these reminders inspired little hurry in the process as the cosmos opened themselves to the embrace of the One Power after what felt like ages. Abruptly a slash of silver light hung in the air before Valadin, its cold light illuminating the area with such intensity that many turned their eyes away.
Not Val though.
Beautiful, he thought when the Hole in the Pattern had finally been made. Beyond it the confused faces of black coated men with Grey cords hanging about their chest stared at the ruinous war zone. Snapping to, Valadin turned, face grim with determination, “Quick! Through the Gateway! You’ll be cared fer!”
The instruction was met with blank confusion as those who’d been ready to flee into the surrounding Blight gawked at the shimmering portal, “Now!” he snapped, this time producing a flurry of motion as the commander quickly re-organized the escape towards the Gateway.
Holding the Weave, Val studied his creation. It was tall enough for a single average sized man, he himself would’ve needed to crouch to get through and it was reasonably wide enough for a single body to pass through with ease. Concentrating with the thought to making the doorway larger as people stumbled through to safety, Val felt his powers straining and gave up the effort quickly. Looking to the Mistress and Mehrin supported the Kataba defenses, he began to realize the futility of their task.
Trollocs who were smart enough to come around the flames fought with an organized brutality that took more men than could be replaced at the north and east gates. Sequestered to the west was a small unit of men was the commander who calmly administrated the mass of people with no fighting capability. Even in the Blight, there were defenseless that needed to be cared for.
And Val wanted to help them. The Mistress gave an order…see to it first…then… Though it was what he wanted, the prospect of leaping into the bloody carnage before him twisted his stomach. Light preserve us….
OOC: Next post Val will also work out how to clumsily tie the Weave off, but...Bree I'll send you a PM about an idea.





