#but luckily marshal is the type to stare people right in the face and go ``the hell are you looking at. i finish when i finish. fuck off``

[musubiki]

the duality of him being amazing in combat but also weak as fuck is hilarious to me

(also the bar is like 40 pounds on its own so hes not terrible actually)

IT IS I FIND IT VERY FUNNY !!!!!!!! everyone like "he must be strong af..." and then is like a normal 15 year old boy outside the combat setting

also YES YOURE RIGHT IT IS VERY HEAVY IVE TRIED IT BEFORE!!!!! and ofc to all the weight lifters out there its very valid to just use the bar ive done it before too. (that being said it is still such a funny mind image to just be struggling with the bar especially in a crowded gym with like 10 super buff dudes waiting to use the bench press)

#but luckily marshal is the type to stare people right in the face and go ``the hell are you looking at. i finish when i finish. fuck off`` #and lime has to later be like ``im so sorry for his attitude hes short-`` #even better if marshal wanted to get into it after he met the little snake witch girl #L: why the sudden interest in getting strong #Msh: *thinking about impressing snake girl with big muscles* no reason. shut up

[diegos-butt]

Electricity Chapter 1

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (curvy OFC)

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: So, I wrote something for the first time 👀 Pls be kind haha. This is written with a plus size/curvy OFC in mind because all my curvy babes, like me, deserve some love 😘 

“Thanks for calling me. I will call you back with my decision soon.” I hung up the phone and stared at it in my hand. A woman from the newspaper in the city a few towns over had just called, telling me they were offering me a job at their crime department. I sat at my desk at my current job, a local journalist for my hometown newspaper. I started working there during college and they offered a job after I finished. I happily accepted, because that meant I could move out of my lovely parents’ house and start my own life.

As I sat at my desk I realized I had never really left this town, and I had always fantasized what it would be like to live and work in a different town. I loved my hometown, don’t get me wrong, but it is small and everyone knows each other. Every day is basically the same here. Miss Johnson walks her dog at exact 3pm, the Millers go to the supermarket at 4pm to buy dinner and the whole town eats at Al’s diner every Sunday.

Also, the men in this town aren’t something to write home about. The decent men are taken by the perfect housewives and the ones who are left, are the type of guys who you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. And unfortunately, no nice men have decided to move here in the last couple of years. The only guy I dated (we were only together for a couple of months) decided I wasn’t good enough and eloped with a pretty, skinny blonde bitch.

While the town doesn’t seem to change, neither does my job. I have been covering the local news for a couple of years now, and it feels like I have been doing the same thing over and over again. Nothing really happens here, and honestly it makes me feel stuck at my job. I feel like my job and this place aren’t helping me to move further. I want to learn more and see something else than this town.

Still staring at the phone in my hand realization washed over me. This was my way out. This phone call could change everything. Not thinking twice, I called the woman (I had forgotten her name, Stacy apparently) back telling her I was accepting their offer. This was my chance of starting something new.

In the weeks after the call, I quit my job and started looking for a new place. Luckily, I found a cosy, affordable apartment. Not too big, not too small. Perfect for me and only me. Not wanting to wait, I moved in quickly with the help of my parents and made the place feel a little like home.

It was a cute apartment with one bedroom and a tiny kitchen. I had everything I needed. A comfy couch, my kettle, my books, a tv for my binge-watching nights and lots of cosy blankets and throw pillows.

After moving in and settling down, I finally had a chance to decorate the place with a lot of fairy lights and plants. I stood in the middle of the living area, wiping some sweat of my face after moving around some heavy plants. Yeah, this is starting to look like home. I thought as I looked around the living area, satisfied with the work I did.

I sat down on my couch and looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8pm. I was tired and hadn’t eaten yet. Tomorrow was my first day at the Minnesota Daily and I couldn’t wait. I was a little nervous, but because I was so tired, I didn’t have the energy to be too nervous or to make dinner.

I decided to make a grilled cheese sandwich and go to bed early. Tomorrow was the first day of a new start and I needed to look good. Might need a full 12 hours of sleep if I want to look a little decent, I thought to myself as I stared into the mirror and noticed my messy hair and the bags under my eyes.

After I ate my ‘dinner’ (I decided two grilled cheese sandwiches counted as dinner), I went to my bedroom and picked an outfit for tomorrow. A simple jeans and a baby blue blouse would do it. Afterwards I brushed my teeth and removed my make up. I put on my pyjamas and fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow.

After parking my car in the parking garage underneath the building the Minnesota Daily is located, I checked my make up one last time in the rear-view mirror. No uneven eyebrows and no smudges of mascara. Let’s go make a good first impression.

I stepped out of the car and grabbed my purse. I walked out of the parking garage and made my way to the front desk where I was greeted by a friendly older looking receptionist.

“Hi, I’m Melody! It is my first day here and I was told to ask for Stacy,” I said.

“Welcome dear! I’ll let Stacy know you’re here! She’ll be here in a sec,” she said with a smile. I nodded and looked around. People were walking in and out of the building, most of them talking on the phone. They all looked like they were in a rush.

Stacy appeared within a minute. She was taller than me, and I’m not exactly tiny, and her long brown hair was tied up in a bun. She walked towards me with her hand reached out and I quickly took it.

“Hi, you must be Melody! I’m Stacy, but everyone calls me Stace. Come, follow me, I’ll show you where we will be working!” she said while we walked to the elevator. While the elevator brought us to the 8th floor, she asked me how my new apartment was and if I liked the city. Before I knew it, the elevator reached the 8th floor.

“Everyone, pay attention! This is Melody and she will be joining our department as you all know,” Stacy practically yelled the second we left the elevator. I already saw some friendly faces looking at me. “Hi, I am Melody, but please call me Mel,” I said while Stacy walked over to a desk and started to introduce me to my new co-workers.

After I met everyone from the crime department, I made my way towards my new desk. Everyone seemed friendly and there was a relaxed atmosphere. Which was a little surprising to me considering this was the crime department. I looked around and thought: yeah, I made the right call to accept this offer.

Yet, I had no idea what this town had to offer me. Or better said, who.

In the first week I worked there I became friends with some of my co-workers. Carmen Garcia practically forced me to go to lunch with her and Gia Park on my first day. They had both been working at the Minnesota Daily for a couple of years now and they were one of the few women in the department. So, they were glad I was recruited to give them another ally in the office.

While we had lunch, they informed me about everything I needed to know. “You seriously need to stay away from creepy Greg, he works for the finance section. Make sure you never go down there alone. He always looks at women like he wants to drag them into an empty alley,” Gia said while pretending to throw up.

“Oh, he is the worst! But Megan, the receptionist, is the best ever. She is so sweet and kind. If you ever need anything, just ask her and she will help you,” Carmen added.

“Definitely! And if you ever need free tickets for a sports game, just let me know and we will visit the guys from the sport section,” Gia told me with a wink.

“I will keep all of this in mind,” I said while taking a sip from my cappuccino. “but tell me something about yourselves!”

Next thing I knew Carmen and Gia told me where they grew up, where they went to school and how they ended up working for the Minnesota Daily. I noticed how easy it was to talk to these girls and we had a good laugh while they told me about their most recent dating disasters. I nearly spilled my cappuccino not once or twice, but thrice while Carmen told me about how she escaped from one of her dates through the bathroom window.

During my first week I spend a lot of time with them. I helped them finish their articles and I got to know them pretty well. Carmen is tough, but sweet and straightforward, while Gia is soft and has a very short span of attention while working. She has visited my desk every half hour just to “catch up”. But I didn’t complain. It was nice to have them as my co-workers, although they began to feel more like friends.

It felt like my life fell into place again. I was making new friends, and I did a pretty good job so far.  Still, sometimes I forgot to do basis tasks like getting groceries. So now I was parking my car in the parking lot of the grocery store.

As soon as I stepped out, I felt the cold chilly air around me, making me pull my leather jacket closer around my body. Hastily I stepped through the doors of the store just a few minutes before they would close. Quickly I grabbed a basket, knowing I should grab a cart, and started to walk through the aisles.

It was quiet inside, just a few people were doing some last-minute shopping like me. I waved hello to the woman at the cash register as I made my way to the first aisle.

So just the basics, some bread, apples, veggies, chocolate. Hmm maybe no chocolate. Okay yes, some chocolate. I deserve it today. What else, milk and cereal obviously. Girl gotta eat some breakfast. I thought as I threw some products in my already way too full basket and made my way to the cereal aisle. I walked passed the apples and picked some up, holding them in my hands.

Walking through the aisle I stopped in front of the many boxes of cereal. Above me I noticed a flickering lightbulb, reminding me I still needed to watch the last episode of Stranger Things. Maybe I should watch it tonight.

Staring at all the different kinds of cereal, I couldn’t decide which one I wanted. After a minute of just staring at the boxes lost in my own world, I grabbed one.

Except, I suddenly wasn’t the only one. Quickly I turned around and bumped into a warm, broad chest which made me drop the apples I was carrying. “Oh shit,” I whispered before I looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen and stared at the man. He had a beard and dark, brown curls. One of the curls dangled in front of his eyes and I had to fight the urge to not wipe it out of his face.

“It didn’t look like you were going to make a decision soon, so I just grabbed the one I wanted,” he said while crouching down to pick up the fallen apples.

“Oh no, no it’s fine,” I stammered, completely overwhelmed by him. “I guess I was zoned out there for a moment.”

While he was picking up the apples, I decided to take a quick look at him. He was a tall, big man wearing a dark blue sweater. Damn it, he is gorgeous. Don’t mind bumping into him more often.. no don’t go there, pull yourself together! I thought as I felt my cheeks burning all of a sudden. I couldn’t even remember the last time I talked to a man this handsome. Get it together Mel.

As he stood up and handed me the apples, I noticed how tired he looked. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, making me wonder when it was the last time he had a decent amount of sleep. Or if he ever had a decent night of sleep.

“Thank you for picking these up,” I said while holding up the apples, making them almost fall again. His reflexes were fast as he grabbed my elbow, helping me keep the apples balanced. The warmth of his hand made my legs suddenly feel a little weak.

“No problem,” he chuckled tiredly making me smile a little. “Maybe you should have gotten a cart instead of a basket, might be easier,” he said while still holding onto my elbow. He pointed with his other hand to my basket that was way too full.  

“You are probably right, but my stubborn ass thought I could carry it all, so here we are,” I answered with a timed laugh, feeling a little embarrassed. He looked at me with those blue eyes and I noticed he had a “don’t mess with me” vibe, that somehow made me feel safe.

As I looked at his hand on my elbow, I suddenly became aware of how close he was. I could smell his musky cologne. He noticed I looked at his hand, and he abruptly let go of me while taking a step back. I immediately missed the warmth of his hand.

“I, uh, I need to go. Take care and don’t drop those again,” he told me with a small smile pointing at the apples in my hands. He grabbed his own basket and started to walk away. As he walked away, I took a good look of him. He was a very muscular man, and I took a mental picture of his ass because that was a sight I did not want to forget. I must tell Carmen and Gia about this.

“I can’t promise that, but I will try my hardest,” I laughed, knowing I would probably drop them again soon. “See you around?” I asked him. Surprised by my own boldness I nearly sank through the floor out of embarrassment.

He looked back at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I felt a spark of electricity going through my spine. “I hope so,” he said with a smirk before he shook his head and turned the corner leaving me speechless in the cereal aisle.

I stood there for another minute while coming back to my senses. My cheeks stopped burning and I realized I had not embarrassed myself that much. I smiled to myself and pictured the smirk he gave me in my head. Then the announcement that the store was about to close in a few minutes blared through the speakers, reminding me I still had to collect some groceries.

Quickly I grabbed the rest of the groceries and headed towards the cash register hoping to see him one more time. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.

I paid for the groceries and walked to my car. Loading the groceries in the trunk I nearly dropped the apples again. Told you, I thought while closing the trunk. It was getting dark and colder outside so I wasted no more time and drove home.

While driving home I realized the mistake I made.

Damn, I should’ve asked his name.

•••

> Chapter two

Taglist: @keanureevesisbae

If somehow you want to be on my taglist, just let me know!

#Walter Marshall #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x plus size ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x curvy ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x plus size ofc #henry cavill x curvy ofc #plus size ofc #curvy ofc #fanfiction #electricity #night hunter #nomis

[pinkanonwrites]

Karasuno VS. Animal Crossing Villagers

Not an ask, but my own idea! Like most people I’ve been neck-deep in animal crossing during these trying times. I wanted to write how haikyuu characters would react to hearing you gushing about someone, only to find out it’s just your favorite villager!

Sawamura Daichi

Usually Daichi is a very reasonable man.

Somehow that all goes careening out a nearby window when he overhears you on the phone with one of your friends.

“Marshal is perfect and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind. Love of my life. Ideal man.”

He’s so caught off guard that he doesn’t even register the volleyball hitting him in the back of the head. The love of your life? Oh nononononono. No one else was gonna be stealing away your attention.

He pushed the roaring beast of jealousy back down in his stomach and smiled as you waved him over. 

“Daichi loooook! He’s so grumpy!” You turned your phone around to show him a picture of an adorable little white squirrel. “I love Marshal!”

Ah.

“Well, he is pretty cute.” Is all he can muster as a reply, feeling rather silly.

Sugawara Koushi

Suga would see you smiling at your phone like an idiot and scootch over to tease you about your silly expression.

His own smile would suddenly fall when you told him just what you were mooning over.

“I made Avery into my new lock screen background! He’s just the cutest!”

Luckily Sugawara is a smart man, and would ask to see your background before drawing any conclusions. He’d breathe a silent sigh of relief upon seeing that your lock screen picture was of a goofy looking cartoon eagle.

“Whaaaaaaaat? You think he’s even cuter than me?” He’d tease, squishing your cheeks with both hands until you broke into giggles. Good. Crisis averted. For now.

Azumane Asahi

Poor baby gets so nervous when he hears you gushing over your villager.

“Kyle is so cool! I’m never ever gonna let him leave I’ve never been this happy in my life!!!”

Daichi and Suga get to watch him melt into a puddle of misery on the floor.

“Kyle?” He whines, scandalized. “Cool?” Of course you liked cool guys. Guys who were tough and aloof and didn’t let anything bother them. He was none of that.

“Asahi! Asahi! Look at my new villager! Isn’t he cute?”

Then you bounded over and showed him the Kyle in question, a hyena in a leather vest. He whined out your name, blubbering as he hid his face in the top of your head. He’s just a big, silly fool.

Nishinoya Yuu

“Okay but Genji is actually perfect though? I’ve never loved anything so much in my life.”

Nishinoya’s head snaps in the direction of your voice so fast his bones cracked. Genji? Who is Genji? He doesn’t glean any information from staring at you, but his teammates can already see the storm clouds brewing above his head.

Who did this Genji guy think he was, stealing away your attention? Hogging your attention was his job.

After landing a particularly impressive receive, he’d look over to you and holler, “Can Genji do that?”

“Well he’s a rabbit and also in a video game, so I’m gonna say no!”

Ohhhhhh, the shame he feels. He must turn red up to the tips of his ears.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

“Papi was singing yesterday! He’s just adorable, I can hardly stand it!”

Tanaka is already growling like a feral dog. He heard ‘He’s just adorable...’ come out of your mouth and it wasn’t directed at him. Your boyfriend.

Clearly he’s gotta challenge this guy for your honor, or beat him up, or, or-!”

Or almost turn into a blubbering mess the second you asked him if he was okay. You’d start panicking when he asked if you still liked him, until he asked why you thought this Papi guy was so cute.

“Ryuu...” You sounded exasperated but painfully fond as you pulled up a picture of the horse on your phone. “He just moved into my Animal Crossing village.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So I’m still your favorite?”

“Of course you are, Ryuu!” “Ah. Heh. I knew that.”

Ennoshita Chikara

Easily the most sensible of the entire team.

“Whatcha looking at?” You’ve been staring at your phone for a good long while with the silliest expression on your face, and he can’t help but be a little curious.

“Wade! He’s so adorable I can’t stand it!”

“Oh? Do I need to be on guard? Is someone gonna try and sweep you off your feet right out from under me?” He jokes, leaning over your shoulder to get a peek at your phone.

“Only if you think a penguin is worthy of wooing me.” You respond.

“I dunno, he’s pretty cute. I might be swooned!”

“Chikara!”

“Joking! Joking!”

Kageyama Tobio

“Apollo is perfect. He’s all gruff on the outside but so sweet and gentle on the inside.”

Externally Kageyama didn’t show any immediate change in expression, quietly focusing on his drills.

Internally, boy is panicking. Who is Apollo? Why was he perfect? Why did you like him so much?

It isn’t until he misses a set and it hits him directly in the head that you realize something’s up with him. He grumbles over and grabs your hand, pulling you out of sight of his teammates.

“Who’s ‘Apollo’?” He asks as soon as you’re out of earshot. “-! D-Don’t laugh!”

“Tobio, look. This is Apollo.” You bring up your Switch and scamper over to a bald eagle and begin talking to him. “He’s gruff on the outside, but sweet on the inside. Just like you. That’s why he’s my favorite.”

“That’s-You!” He stammers, face exploding into a burning blush. “Wh-Whatever! I’m way cooler than some weird bird anyway!”

Hinata Shouyou

“There he is! The light of my life! My most perfect boy!”

Usually that’d get Hinata excited, because you’d be talking about him. Not today.

“Jeremiah! The cutest in the whole wide world!~”

And he definitely wasn’t sulking because of it. No siree.

You wouldn’t stop staring down at your phone, even when Hinata was doing his amazing freak quick. Yeah you’d probably seen it a few hundred times at this point, but still! You said it was always amazing! What changed?

At the end of practice he’d holler your name out to you.

“I only want you to watch me! Not whoever this weird Jeremiah guy is!”

“Shouyou, baby, he’s a frog.”

“...Eh?”

After you show him your Switch he buries his face in his hands, cheeks burning. “Waaaaaaaahhh, this is so embarrassing. I’m gonna die.”

You laugh and wrap him in a hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay more attention at your next game. No frogs allowed.”

Tsukishima Kei

All day long, whenever you’re in earshot, Tsukishima can hear you rambling about this ‘Erik’ guy and frankly? It’s starting to drive him a little bit insane.

“Erik gave me some flowers!”

“Erik said he liked my outfit today!”

“Erik invited me to his house!”

By the time you pick up on his sour mood Kei is practically simmering, and looks at you with a bitter glare.

“Why don’t you spend some more time with Erik if you’re going to be drooling all over him?”

Boy does he feel a fool when you show him a picture of the little elk in your village.

“Kei, were you jealous?”

“Tch.”

Yamaguchi Tadashi

“Rowan is so cool. And so cute! He’s definitely my absolute favorite.”

Yamaguchi’s attention snaps to you, wide-eyed. Who is Rowan?

“W-Who is Rowan?”

Yama’s a pretty shy guy, but he’s not really the type to jump to conclusions either. So if he was nervous about something you said, he’d ask right away instead of stewing in it.

Which is good for him, because now he knows that you aren’t going all mushy over another boy, just a particularly cool cartoon tiger. You’d show him the character on your Switch screen and shoot him a smile so infectious he can’t help but mirror it.

I also think Yama is the most likely to become interested in Animal Crossing after you show him! He’d want to see all your other villagers too, not realizing how far you were leaning into each other’s space as you gave him a tour of your town.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu imagines #karasuno #karasuno imagines #sawamura daich #sugawara koushi #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #ennoshita chikara #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #headcanons #long post

[depressed-sock]

Reveal Au part 2

A Fallen Hero Fanfic 

This series will have spoilers! And Kiyo has the suicidal scar!

Plan in Action

Kiyo 5 hours earlier:

 “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter as you study the holographic map Mortum has laid out before you. These assholes couldn't put Ortega on a lower floor near the side, oh no, they had to apparently put him smack dab near the center of the building up about 5 floors of 8. “Are you sure this is accurate?”

 “Undoubtedly,” Mortum frowns, as he flicks his finger causing dozens of red dots to suddenly appear, “Let’s not forget the small army as well.” He takes off his glasses rubbing his eyes with a tired sigh. “And of course the dampeners. Kiyo… we’re not going to be able to do this with just the two of us.” He looks as frustrated as you feel.

  “Fuck,” all this information and you still don’t have a clear plan. “I could use Eden to-”

  “No,” Mortum’s face turns stern, you had reached an agreement of not using Eden but you’re not seeing many other options.

 “Fuck!” your hands come up to your face muffling your scream of frustration before you slam them down on the table, “I don’t know what else to fucking do!”

  You grit your teeth as you eye the map carefully. What if?... It’s a definite thought but… no buts Herald could get you up high enough to reach the floor… the others could cause a distraction...but they’re not going to want to leave you alone with him, let alone trust you to actually save Ortega…

  “What if it’s not just the two of us?” you ask, moving your fingers to zoom out the map. There’s a hallway that leads straight to Ortega from that window…

  “What do you mean?” Mortum looks at you confused but you’re already miles ahead in your thought process. How would you get them to trust you? You’d probably have to take someone else with you. Can’t be Herald you’ll need him ready to get Ortega to medical help, Argent would be better focused on distracting and attacking, so that leaves Chen… Mortum coughs into his hand and you’re pulled back into trying to focus on what you were saying.

  “We tip off the Ranger’s and I get them to agree to a temporary team up,” you mumble moving the map so now you're looking at the dots on the roof. You can brainwash them, it’ll be a fast and dirty process and they’d probably be snapped out of it easily but it might be enough to make sure they don’t set off the alarms too early.

  Mortum barks out a laugh looking at you disbelievingly, “You can’t be serious... you are, shit.” He rubs his hand over his face, “That’s a huge risk, especially if you’re going to tell them who you’re there to save.”

 “Well then I guess I’ll have to be there for something else…” you zoom out the map fully, “What else did your contact say?”

 “Well, there is a weapon you could go after. It's a floor under where he’s being held,” Mortum adds a green dot below Ortega's blue one, “We can use the parts for our ‘project’.”

 “What kind of weapon?” you ask leaning forward.

 “A fun one,” he smirks at you and you can’t help but match it.

 His smirk turns back into a frown, “It’s still a risk I’m not sure you should be taking.”

 “I have too,” you focus on the map, “I have to save him…” Even if he didn’t save you. You shake your head, trying to will that thought away. He didn’t know you were alive, it’s not his fault… he would have come like he always did if he knew… would he really have come if he knew the truth about you? You honestly doubt it.

 “You will,” Mortum’s hand is a comforting presence on your shoulder, speaking words he doesn't fully believe.

….

Steel Present:

  You watch as they hold their palm steady letting it project a small map of the building, “Your idiot is located here,” a blue light flashes onto the screen. Right smack dab in the upper middle of the building. Fantastic, the sarcasm your mind supplies doesn’t seem adequate enough for this entire situation. “What I’m after is, luckily for you, directly below him,” a green dot flashes on the screen a floor below the blue one, “The plan is to get you to him and than we go our separate ways as you return to flyboy with the Idiot. There’s a clear path from the window to where they’re holding the Idiot captive,  so it should be a clear shot there and back.” A fifth-floor window lights up along with the hallway leading to the room Ortega is supposedly being held in.

 “So you want us all to fly up there?” Argent glares at them and they let out a loud sigh.

 “No, you’ll be the ‘just in case’ distraction waiting on our signal,” Argent grits her teeth in response but before she can say anything more they stop her, “Listen I get it, you enjoy a good fight as much as I do and you’re also worried about him but the best chance you have of getting him out of there in enough pieces for you to scream at later is for you to play decoy so we can get him to flyboy.”

 “So you’re going to have Herald fly both of us up?” you eye them distrustfully. This could all still be a trap. Get you all separated so it’s easier to pick you all off. “What about people spotting us?”

 “If I’ve done my job right no one will even know we’re in there until it's too late,” they cross their arms defensively, “Flyboy is going to need to be ready to extract the Idiot.”

 “I’m standing right here,” Herald frowns crossing his own arms, “Steel should we really be trusting them?”

 No, you shouldn’t be… something about them feels incredibly off and you can’t quite place it. Maybe it's how they keep referring to Ortega as the idiot, it sets off something in your memory you can't quite place. But if what they’re saying is true you may not have a choice. Your jaw locks as you stare them down. You're going to have to take a leap of faith and hope all the stories from civilians about Heartbreak are true. That they’ve saved more lives than they’ve harmed.

 “Fine,” you say and their shoulders sag in relief, “But I want a guarantee that you're not going to betray us once you have us separated.” They hesitate at that, head tilting to the side like a cat eyeing its prey.

 “What kind of guarantee? I could give you my word but I doubt that would be enough for you. I could even give you the name of someone close to me but names are easy to fake. So what exactly could I give you that would make you trust me long enough to pull this off?”

 “You’re making it really hard to trust you,” Herald glares at them, obviously not looking forward to this whole situation but honestly who among you really are?

 “You shouldn’t trust me,” they respond, “I’m not here for trust, I’m here to retrieve what was taken from me.”

 “What was taken from you?” you ask, what is so important that they need your help to retrieve it?

 “A… friend,” they shake their head with a laugh, “Same as you I suppose.”

  You eye them carefully, there’s no way to tell if they’re lying to you, “Alright, let’s do this.” You hope for everyone’s sake that this is the right choice.

….

Kiyo Present:

  You let Herald take ahold of your suit and you both take off to meet Chen who is already waiting for you at the top. It would be so easy for him to let go of you, to let you fall but with how armored your suit is you definitely wouldn’t die, let alone get injured. You can’t help but wonder if he knows that or if the reason his grip tightens is because he truly doesn’t want to drop you. He sets you down gently next to Chen on the other side of the shattered window. Looks like he followed through with your plan, the glass is practically dust as you step on it.

 “Wait nearby just out of sight, until the Marshall here gives you the go-ahead,” you point your thumb at Chen who grunts in response. Apparently, he’s still mad at you, or maybe it’s just he’s fully convinced this is a trap. It’s not a trap for him at least, might be for you considering how many telepathic dampeners are in this place. The Ratking responds with a light comforting touch, you can barely feel it through the dampeners but you appreciate the sentiment all the same.

 You got lucky with the roof guards being just a bit out of range, but here you have an enormous headache and are almost completely head-blind. You're trusting Ratking to keep you as up to date as it possibly can while also trusting the Rangers not to betray you.

  Herald files off and you turn to find Chen staring you down. He is so much more intimidating when he looks set for war. “This way, don't attack anyone unless I say so.”

 “You expect me to follow your orders?” his voice is cold, sharp. A response you deserve.

 “I expect you to do what's necessary for yourself and your team,” you respond harshly. Chen is a rules first person but you sincerely hope he's willing to bend them a bit for everyone's sake. You're taking this risk fully aware that he might try to capture after all is said and done.

 He doesn't bother with a verbal response as he allows you to lead the way. You turn off your mic to quickly open a private communication line with Mortum, “How's everything looking from your end?”

 “Looks clear, no heat extra heat signatures on your level and there are only the same two people registering as awake,” you can hear him quickly type something before he lets out a curse, “You may want to hurry, I'm picking up extra signatures heading towards the elevator.”

 “Fuck,” you curse and Chen looks at you startled by your outburst. Shit, you turned the mic back on too early, “We need to hurry.” You take off down the hall, there should only be two real obstacles in your way and they're guarding Ortega's door. “Be ready to start punching,” you say over your shoulder grabbing the corner of the wall to make a sharp turn. Chen slides a bit trying to keep up with your faster pace and sudden turns.

  “Shouldn't there be more people here?” he asks sounding like he's regretting trusting you. The whole place feels too quiet to not be a trap and you don't blame him, you wouldn't trust this whole situation either.

  “There was,” you don't bother explaining, it's not exactly something to brag about. Just some drug-laced pizza you had one of your brainwashed guards deliver. The only two that hadn't eaten it are the ones still on guard duty. “Get ready!”

 You turn the corner and immediately charge the first guard, who lets out a surprised shout only to be swiftly taken down just as Chen's fist slams into the other guard’s head. Too easy… it sets off your paranoia. All of this feels too easy, but maybe that's because you've got the Rangers backing you up.

 You don't wait for Chen to refocus, you go straight for the door and open it. Ortega is battered and bloodied, his head down against his chest as his arms are chained and suspended above his head. His breathing is shallow but he's clearly breathing. You can feel the immediate relief as you realize he’s not dead or seriously injured.

 “Found him,” your voice feels weak and comes out more like a whisper. He responds by weakly looking up in surprise.

 “Ki-”

 “Ortega!” Chen pushes past you and you let him as fear courses through you. It sounded like… No, he couldn't know… he couldn't know that you're Heartbreak. He couldn't have been about to call your name.

#fallen hero rebirth #fallen hero #Steel/Chen #Kiyo Basri #the Rangers #dr. mortum #my writing

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 22

So...I read the chapter. That was... 

Chapter 22: The Last That Could Be Done

Oh.

Okay.

Well that…uh... that… sure is a chapter title. Yeah. Um.

It certainly evokes the idea of a threshold. Which… I am starting to see why you were all so eager for me to get here.

(For those who are curious: my guess at this point, reinforced by that title, is that this is when Rand reaches his low point and crosses that last line somehow. The somehow seems likely to involve Semirhage and the a’dam that is being kept in a SMALL. WOODEN. BOX.)

The Last That Could Be Done. Just…damn.

That just leaves the question…done by, or done to?

I should probably stop staring at the chapter title and actually read the chapter, shouldn’t I?

OH EXCELLENT IT STARTS WITH SEMIRHAGE. HEEEEERRRRRREEE WE GOOOOOOOO.

During her days, prisoners hadn’t been denied light.

Um, Semirhage? ‘Alone, in the dark, with the pain’ ringing any bells?

Oh okay fair she admits it in the next sentence.

There’s a part of me that’s a little bit…annoyed?...at how Semirhage was broken so easily. I absolutely get the point that was being made, and on one hand okay sure I can work with that but on the other hand…the rapidity with which it worked and the fact that she’s now huddling in a corner trying not to cry seems to almost cheapen her character somehow.

Of course, this is coming from me, and I have a whole Thing with competent characters (usually villains) being robbed of that competence at plot-critical moments. But that’s very much a personal preference thing and a Lia Has A Type thing, so. YMMV.

Torture made sense. You truly saw what a person was made of, in more ways than one, when you began to slice into them.

That’s a terrible pun Semirhage and you should be ashamed.

Why couldn’t they have given her pain?

This is such an excellent line. It’s so wonderfully…ambiguous? And the way it’s phrased, along with the actual meaning and implication, is just off enough to make it stand out.

She had steeled her mind to each of these things, preparing for them. A small, eager part of herself had looked forward to them.

Of course she had. And Semirhage is in such an interesting position in terms of the whole ‘figs and mice’ thing. She knows pain and torture so intimately, knows probably more ways to hurt someone than her gaolers could begin to think of, has spent a disturbing amount of time studying pain and the nature of pain. So what she is capable of imagining is so much worse than what would probably have been done to her, which was Juilin’s whole point with the figs and mice explanation. But Semirhage also has such a clinical and precise understanding of all of this that it would almost certainly not have the same psychological effect…it would have been interesting to see this play out.

Oh hey Shaidar Haran. This will no doubt end well.

“You have been given one last chance,” the maggotlike lips whispered. “Do. Not. Fail.”

Yep, I’m sure this will all turn out wonderfully.

Three corpses, everything’s fine.

“I live to serve, Great Mistress,” the woman whispered. “I am instructed to tell you that there is Compulsion in my mind you are to remove.”

Is this Verin’s Compulsion? Shall we start keeping a tally of How Many Things Can Go Wrong In One Chapter? I feel like setting Semirhage free is one of those things that’s just going to set off an avalanche of OH SHIT.

“Also,” the woman said, handing something forward, wrapped in cloth.

Oh shit.

“I am to give you this.” She removed the cloth, revealing a dull-coloured metallic collar, and two bracelets. The Domination Band.

Well.

Here we go, then.

I mean, I was kind of expecting it to come to this, but still…well played on getting that Domination Band into the hands of, out of the cast of the entire series, the person capable of doing the absolute maximum damage with it. The one who best knows how to torment, how to break, how to find the cracks and pry them open. Giving Semirhage, the Lady of Pain, a way to have absolute control over someone…that’s the stuff of nightmares. Especially because she’s not motivated by anger; she’s clinical and precise and she delights in this. “He must know pain of heart. He must know frustration, and he must know anguish.” Putting this tool in Semirhage’s hands and setting her loose?

A smile finally broke through Semrihage’s fear.

This is going to be spectacular.

And now we’re in Rand’s POV. I’m ready. Let’s do this.

Lews Therin’s memories. Not his own.

What is Lews Therin’s is yours, Rand. You are the Dragon Reborn. That is the entire point. Lews Therin is your past, but that does not define the fate of your present. Accept it, use it, learn from it. Claim it and make it a part of you because right now you’re almost literally tearing yourself apart.

I do feel like we’re close to a turning point with this though, one way or another, purely because of how prominent it has become in Rand’s thoughts. It’s reached the point where it doesn’t feel sustainable any longer; it’s always been headed there but now it’s not just a slip of memory here and there, something that can be ignored or brushed aside to be dealt with later. He’s holding on to an idea or a barrier or a specific sense of identity and there’s too much pressure on those walls, and any moment now it’s going to shatter. And I’m really, really interested to see how that plays out.  

“Has it occurred to you,” Ituralde said, riding on Rand’s left, “that what we are doing here could constitute an invasion?”

NO SHIT. Rand’s just like ‘there are some Saldaeans it’s fine’ and Bashere and Ituralde are probably wondering what they’ve done to deserve this.

“I am the Dragon Reborn. It is not an invasion to march against the forces of the Dark One.”

Well, that’s…a fair point. How much do borders matter, at the end of the world? How much should they matter?

And it’s that difference between ‘do’ and ‘should’ that can be so frustrating and discouraging, but at the same time it’s human; the apocalypse is huge and all-encompassing and too much to actually take in and deal with and accept, much less begin to systematically address, but sovereignty and invasion and homeland are much more manageable concepts. And much closer, more personal concepts for most than some nebulous and not always well defined impending doom. So instead we continue to contribute to our own destruction, perhaps because putting some of those grievances aside would mean accepting that there really is something larger, something infinitely more terrifying, something we don’t know how to address, something we could no longer hide from once we acknowledge it. Easier to defend your home and your people against a definable them than stand beside them and defend an entire world against forces of nature or fate or our own selves.

Sorry, that verged on political there for a second.

It was an act of war, but the Borderlanders’ forces were away doing Light only knew what, and he would not leave these lands undefended.

This, on the other hand, still makes me want to hit my head repeatedly with a brick. Luckily, I recently purchased a hardcover copy of Oathbringer.

Ow.

But seriously, Borderlanders, WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT. It’s still just so absurd, like ‘oh this guy is ignoring us while we mind our own business guarding the Blight, guess we’d better leave the Blight to go find him and tell him to…pay attention to the Blight’. Why. Why.

Maps sometimes couldn’t convey the truth eyes could see.

Sanderson, I think you and I need to sit down and have a chat about maps.

Also reading this is just an exercise in anticipation because you KNOW WHAT’S COMING.

Well, you know what’s coming. I just know that SEMIRHAGE AND THE DOMINATION BAND AND THIS IS GOING TO GO SO VERY WRONG ANY MOMENT NOW but my point stands.

“I will leave some of Bashere’s officers with you as advisors,” Rand said.

“That would help,” Ituralde said, “but I wonder if it wouldln’t be better to just leave him here.”

I do love Ituralde. And Bashere. I want more of the two of them together.

But Ituralde has a point, and not even from a ‘this is an invasion and not like that time Switzerland accidentally invaded Leichtenstein but an actual invasion’ perspective, but from the simple fact that he doesn’t know the Blight. Bashere does. Friends don’t let friends fight Russia in winter, and friends don’t let friends run blindly into the Blight.

“No offense, my Lord, but don’t you think it’s odd to have us working in each other’s kingdoms?”

Ah but here, see, we come back to my earlier question. Should those borders matter? Can they afford to care about whose kingdom is whose, when they’re all fighting for the future of the entire world now? Are the borders not part of the problem, dividing them when they need to be united in facing the Shadow? At least for now, they need to be able to work across borders. They’re all on the same side in this – or at least, they need to be – and perhaps forcing them to work in a nation that isn’t theirs is a way to enforce that, in a strange way. To say that it doesn’t matter what country you’re in right now; it matters that you’re standing against that.  

It wasn’t odd, it was bitter sense. He trusted Bashere, and the Saldaeans had served Rand well, but it would be dangerous to leave them in their own homelands. […] His reasoning with Ituralde was equally brutal. The man had sworn to him, but allegiances could change. Out here, near the Blight, Ituralde and his troops would have very little opportunity to turn against Rand. They were in hostile territory, and Rand’s Asha’man would be their only quick means of getting back to Arad Doman. If left in his homeland, however, Ituralde could marshal troops and perhaps decide he didn’t need the Dragon Reborn’s protection.

It was much safer to keep the armies in hostile territory.

And that’s all true and pragmatic and probably effective, but I feel like this is a perfect example of the whole concept of “if he goes to Tarmon Gai’don as he is, even his victory may be as dark as his defeat.”

It’s a case of ‘right thing for the wrong reasons’ – all of this is true, but it’s not the reason Rand perhaps should be thinking of. Instead of seeing this as a chance to encourage unity and common cause, he thinks about how to make use of enmity in order to hold things together just a little longer before they inevitably fall apart. He’s dividing rather than uniting, even though his actions would be more or less the same either way. It’s an issue of mindset and perspective and purpose; he does not trust, he does not seem to believe any longer that there is a way to truly unite everyone. Instead it’s a question of force, of holding everything together and pushing through just enough to get to that end goal, but that’s not enough. And it draws closer and closer to the Shadow’s goals. Play on distrust, sow chaos, play towards but never beyond the ending.

Rand hated thinking that way, but that was one of the main differences between the man he had been and the man he had become. Only one of those men could do what needed to be done, no matter that he hated it.

And he doesn’t see it. It’s not just about what must be done; it’s remembering why.

[Narishma] had been a Borderlander, too, before he had become Asha’man. Too many clouded loyalties. Which would come first for Narishma? His homeland? Rand? The Aes Sedai to whom he was a Warder?

Except it shouldn’t matter because all of those should be aimed at the same thing right now. But ‘should’ is not always ‘is’. Also, Rand, Narishma nearly died bringing Callandor to you. And then there’s Dumai’s Wells and the Cleansing. Maaaaaaaaaybe trust the kid?

I want more of Narishma. He’s intriguing and he’s had some really cool moments but it feels like he hasn’t yet had his turn in the spotlight and I’d like to see him have that. I’d actually really love to see him interact with Logain. I feel like that would be A Lot.

But the most dangerous enemies were those you assumed you could trust.

Ah, Rand. It’s…he has been so hurt before, and he has so little ability to trust, and it’s not even remotely difficult to see why. And he needs to be able to trust some people, because it’s all part of the same spiral, but it’s hard to even criticise him for this because while it’s obvious from the outside how damaging it is…how can he still trust?

It’s true of so much of his path at the moment; there are so many things he’s doing that he really should not be doing, and he’s tearing away pieces of himself and trying to harden himself and it’s all so very damaging but how can he not? But he needs to find a different way, and that’s the most difficult part. That’s the heroic effort, however it ends up playing out. But he has to go through all of this first, has to make those mistakes because they’re the only way he can see to remain even remotely functional, but also because given what he’s been through and what he sees ahead it’s nigh on unfathomable that he would just pass gracefully through and never stumble.

The night where he had dreamed of Moridin, and there had been no Lews Therin in his mind. It twisted Rand’s belly to know that his dreams were no longer safe. He had come to rely on them as a refuge. Nightmares could take him, true, but they were his own nightmares.

And how awful is that? That he seeks refuge even in nightmares because there is so little refuge left to him now. His own mind is a minefield, the world is duty and pain, and now even those dreams have been taken from him, along with everything else. He has nowhere to escape, almost no one he trusts, and no longer much hope for the future. Alone, in the dark, with the pain.

But okay. That dream with Moridin. And Rand had come to rely on his dreams as a refuge, but that was…almost what it was, even then, with his enemy at his side. Because that dream was when he felt stable, felt more himself, and he just…sat, quietly, looking at the fire. Talking with Moridin but neither of them fighting.

And then we come to the fact that dreams are clearly a refuge for Moridin as well. He didn’t expect Rand, didn’t bring Rand into that dream. He was just…there. Sitting in front of the fire. Tired and without hope.

Rand is the Chosen One, the one who must fight again and again at each turn of the Wheel, fighting a battle that may never be truly won because victory only buys another chance, another cycle.

But Moridin or Ishamael or Elan Morin Tedronai is chosen as well, a Chosen Antagonist. If his interpretation is correct, he, like Rand, will be spun out again and again to fight in the ultimate battle of good against evil, of Light and Shadow, time and again. And to lose. As Moridin put it, “When you are victorious, it only leads to another battle. When he is victorious, all things will end. Can you not see that there is no hope for you? […] there will be no eternities. Only the now, the last days.” And he was ostensibly talking to Rand, but I think he was also speaking of himself.

This is their story, a simple story that they will play out – like Birgitte and Gaidal Cain – in a thousand variations. They will face each other with the world at stake – a world that has cause to hate and fear them both, but refuses to let them go.

And when you realise that your fated recurring role is the Eternal Antagonist, you either seek an ending or you convince yourself that this is what you wanted all along. As Ishamael, he tried the latter. As Moridin…the former seems the only option left to him.

Is it any wonder, then, that when we first meet him he all but thinks himself the Dark One? He has immense power but for all that he is watching the Wheel turn and the Pattern play itself out, knowing that for him it will always mean a loss. And so he takes on the persona of the only one – he thinks – with the power to break this Pattern that weaves him to betrayal after betrayal, to fall after fall, to fight after fight that he cannot avoid but cannot win. He takes on the guise and the identity of one who has power he never will, and lies to himself, because if he is powerful then this is his choice, and he has a chance at true victory, of re-writing his role, even if not for the better.

And he does have a choice – they both do, in how they step into those roles and where they let that path take them, and how they face it. It comes back to the why, to the question of what are you fighting for, to the nature of hope and the choice to hold to it or abandon it. But it’s also a question of perception. Rand perceives himself as constrained because duty will not allow him to step aside; he will see the world saved because he cannot stand by and watch it burn. It is a choice, but to him it doesn’t always feel like one. And Moridin… “your logic destroyed you, didn’t it?” He is constrained by what he sees as inevitability – which is almost ironic, in that by capitulating to inevitability he makes of it a self-fulfilling prophecy. So both absolutely do have choices (I promise the purpose of this is not ‘Moridin did nothing wrong’), but both are also subject, especially in terms of their own perception, to the weaving of the Pattern.

So here you have the two Chosen Ones, one fated to have a slim chance of saving the world but only through pain, and the other fated to fail in its destruction, time and time again.

It’s no surprise, really, that they both find a refuge of sorts in dreams, and even that they can sit in one side by side for a few moments.

And that was a bit of a digression. Oops. I just have a lot of Thoughts about Moridin, and about Moridin-and-Rand and the choices they make and the roles they play and what leads them there and how they see those roles, and how they are alike but not, sides of a coin tossed again and again.

Anyway.

Why had Moridin come to help Rand in Shadar Logoth, back during the fight with Sammael? What twisted webs was he weaving? He had claimed that Rand had invaded his dream, but was that just another lie?

No, I’m pretty much certain that was true. That Moridin really does just…use those dreams as a chance to escape from his own place in all of this, for a time.

He and Rand are both focused on an ending right now. Rand is increasily focused on just getting to Tarmon Gai’don, on ‘we can die at Tarmon Gai’don’, at forcing everything to that one point and progressively losing hope of anything that might come after. He’s losing sight of why he’s fighting and of the purpose of all of this, looking only at that one point when it will all finally be over.

And I think Moridin’s…kind of in a similar position. Which says something about Rand’s current mindset and brings us back to the ‘even his victory may be as dark as his defeat’ thing. It’s also more or less exactly where Moridin wants Rand to be. He must know anguish…

Except that Min didn’t want him to be hard.

I am trying not to make the obvious joke here. I’m trying. I swear.

She  might call him a fool, but she did not lie, and that made him want to be the man she wished him to be. But did he dare? Could a man who could laugh also be the man who could face what needed to be done at Shayol Ghul?

Rather blunt terms, but…yeah, that’s kind of the crux of the problem at this point. He doesn’t see how to reconcile those, because he doesn’t see a way to let himself feel without shattering.

It would take a hard man to face his own death, to fight the Dark One while his blood spilled on the rocks. Who could laugh in the face of that?

…Yeah. Oh, Rand.

That’s the thing; on some level he can just about see that what he’s doing to himself right now maybe isn’t good, but he can’t see another way. Because how can he face that? Except he has to, and I’m still fairly sure a large part of that is going to be in accepting who he is and who he was, and in finding…is it a pun if I say ‘a memory of light’?

She says we need to break the seals. She’s right.

Rand froze, pulling Tai’daishar up short, ignoring the groom who had come to take the horse. To hear Lews Therin agreeing…

What do we do after that? Rand asked.

We die.

Well that was almost helpful, Lews, thanks.

You know that if he wins, there will be nothing for us. Not even death. Yes…nothing, Lews Therin said. That would be nice. No pain, no regret. Nothing.

If he wins, there will be nothing. That’s…more or less what Moridin said and again, he seemed to welcome it. Which makes ‘not even death’ also a pun and I would say I’m sorry but I’m not at all sorry.

What I am is wondering how much of an effect the bond or link or whatever it is between Rand and Moridin might have on their thoughts and mindsets.

Rand felt a chill. If Lews Therin began to think that way…No, Rand said, It wouldn’t be nothing. He would have our soul. The pain would be worse, far worse.

Oh, Rand. He still desperately doesn’t want to die, though he doesn’t see another option. And more than that, the ‘if Lews Therin began to think that way…’ it’s as if Rand himself can barely avoid falling into that mindset, and if Lews Therin starts to, it’ll only make it all the harder. Especially because Lews Therin is Rand but that’s another issue. But Rand is just barely holding on as it is, and he’s already promised Lews Therin that they can die at Tarmon Gai’don, and now to have Lews Therin wondering if defeat might not be the better choice, if maybe oblivion is preferable…it’s hard enough for Rand to hold on to any reason to keep going and this would be too much.

And so he argues with himself, trying to remind himself that it would be even more pain, that it wouldn’t get better, that he can’t just stop that easily, that it isn’t an escape. That he has to keep going.

(Also I’m once again thinking of Moridin and his seeming eagerness for this ending of everything, and…if he’s thinking along the same lines as Lews Therin is, but if Rand is right…)

It didn’t work,  Lews Therin whispered. We used saidin, but we touched it to the Dark One. It was the only way! Something has to touch him, something to close the gap, but he was able to taint it.

Oh.

OH.

Something has to touch him.

There’s a link between Rand and Moridin.

The True Power cannot be tainted, because it is already of the Dark One.

Moridin can touch the True Power.

‘A Memory of Light’…

I wonder.

Duty was like a mountain. Well, Rand felt as if he was trapped between a good dozen different mountains, all moving to destroy him.

I mean you did turn yourself into one…

The sun was near to setting, and the mountains were bathed in a red light. Beyond them and to the south, so strangely close, lay Emond’s Field and the Two Rivers. A home he would never see again, for a visit would only alert his enemies to his affection for it. He had worked hard to make them think he was a man without affection. At times, he feared that his ruse had become reality.

Mountains. Mountains like duty. The duty of solitude in this case, for somewhere southward along those too-near mountains was his father. Tam.

This whole passage is lovely; sad and beautiful. ‘The duty of solitude’. And the setting sun, bathing those mountains in red – a gathering storm, a growing darkness, a fading light that becomes harder and harder to see as all that is left to him is a duty that feels like it will crush him. The mountains of duty and the red of blood and battle and all that he can see of his future, as the light vanishes.

And at times, he feared that this ruse had become reality. It’s the much more painful side of ‘fake it ‘till you make it’. In the early books he was very much projecting an image of the person he needed to be, or thought he needed to be, but wasn’t yet. But how long can that last before it becomes reality? How far can you go before you lose yourself to it? At some point, does it matter whether it’s a ruse or reality, if the actions taken are the same? Where is that line and how do you keep it from vanishing entirely?

At times, Rand longed for Tam’s voice, his wisdom. Those were the times when Rand knew he had to be the most hard, for a moment of weakness – a moment running to his father for succor – would destroy nearly everything he had worked for. And it would likely mean the end of Tam’s life as well.

But he can’t keep closing off those he loves, and those who love him. The duty of solitude, he calls it, but that’s…part of the problem. He has so few left that he trusts, and there are few left who even see the humanity in him, not to mention his pain, and he can’t do this alone.

Also I just really, really want a Rand and Tam reunion. Rand needs Tam. Rand needs pretty much anyone he can get who still loves him as Rand. And also TAM.

He needed to be alone. Relying on anyone would risk being weak when he reached Shayol Ghul. At the Last Battle, he would not be able to lean on anyone other than himself.

Except…the opposite of this.

Again though, it’s all too easy to see how he comes to this line of thinking. He’s been hurt and betrayed, and he fears that anyone near him will be hurt as well, but…you can’t do this alone, Rand. He has the two other ta’veren, and he will need them. He has Min and Elayne and Aviendha, and he relies on their bond to strengthen him. He has Nynaeve, and he doesn’t have Tam right now but he should, and he has Bashere and Lan and his other allies and he needs all of them; he may stand at the centre of what is coming but the Last Battle can’t just be him. He can’t do all of it on his own. And again, what is he fighting for, if he closes himself off to that extent? It will only get more difficult to care about the rest of the world if he doesn’t allow him to care about those closest to him.

At this rate, his stewards worried that he would soon bankrupt his assets in Illian, Tear and Cairhien. Rand had not told them that he didn’t care. He would see the world to the Last Battle.

And will you have no legacy other than that? a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Not Lews Therin, but his own thought, a small voice, the part of him that had prompted him to found schools in Cairhien and Andor. You wish to live after you die? Will you leave allof those who follow you to war, famine and chaos? Will the destruction be how you live on?

Rand shook his head. He couldn’t fix everything! He was just one man. Looking beyond the Last Battle was foolish. He couldn’t worry about the world then, he  couldn’t. To do so would be to take his eye of the goal. And what is the goal? that voice seemed to say. Is it to survive, or is it to thrive? Will you set the groundwork for another Breaking or for another Age of Legends?

What are you fighting for. You need to remember, otherwise you will destroy it in your effort to achieve it. And this is his struggle right now, to care about what comes after, when it’s taking everything he has just to get there. To care not just about victory at the Last Battle but about what that victory means, and what it establishes. Because if all he thinks about is that one single point, if he burns the world to win, then he has not won at all.

And he knows that, but it’s so hard for him to accept and to acknowledge because it’s too much; he’s right that he can’t fix everything, and that he’s just one man. He has to let others help him, and he has to look past that point, and that’s why his role as the potential saviour of the world fucking sucks, because it’s demanding of him everything he has and then some, and he doesn’t even have much hope that he’ll be around to see what comes next. He just has to care anyway, and caring hurts.

Eerily, Rand felt as if he could almost remember those events – not what had happened, but the anger, the desperation, the decision. Was the mistake, then, not using the female half of the Power as well as the male?

Well, partly. Or perhaps they would both have been tainted. But yes, collaboration is probably a good starting point.

There was a game children played, Snakes and Foxes. It was said that the only way to win was to break the rules.

I mean, finding a way to turn the True Power against the Dark One, thus making the Shadow’s own power serve the purpose of the Light could certainly be considered ‘breaking the rules’. The question is how. Moridin seems like the answer there, but…how? Can he be forced into it? Or…I mean okay I’m not sure I want to even hope for redemption here because Ingtar aside that’s not really how these books seem to go but there is the whole no man can walk so long in the Shadow that he cannot come again to the Light so it’s not impossible, maybe…

Could he break the rules by slaying the Dark One?

No don’t do that that’s a terrible idea.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard again, sheepherder,” Min said.

“I have to.”

She pinched his neck hard, and he flinched, grunting. “No you don’t,” she said, her voice close to his ear. “Haven’t you been listening to me? What good will you be if you wear yourself out before you reach the Last Battle?”

Listen to Min, Rand, she’s wonderful and she can help you. Let her help you.

“Cadsuane says that—”

“Wait,” he snapped, twisting around so that he was facing her. She knelt on the bed, short dark hair curling down beneath her chin. She looked shocked by his tone.

“What does Cadsuane have to do with this?” he asked.

Min frowned. “Nothing.”

“She’s been telling you what to say,” Rand said. “She’s been using you to get to me!”

Yikes. If Rand’s reached the point where he can so quickly mistrust Min…

The serving woman continued to clink dishes. Why couldn’t she just leave!

I am concerned about the identity of this serving woman.

Min couldn’t be working with Cadsuane, could she? Rand didn’t trust Cadusane by any measure. If she’d gotten to Min…

Rand felt his heart twist. He wasn’t suspicious of Min, was he?

At least he caught himself. Min is pretty much the last one he does trust completely, and he came very, very close to losing even that. He’s so close to the edge here, to not trusting anyone at all, to being suspicious of even those who love him most. He’s long since stopped trusting Egwene, he has less trust for Nynaeve than he once did and maybe trusts her more than most Aes Sedai but not completely, Elayne…hard to say, but there’s some slight political tension there, Aviendha maybe but they haven’t had a chance to interact in approximately forever because Aviendha’s being stubborn. Lan’s gone again and even that one is a bit strained, which hurts me, he mostly trusts Bashere but still takes some precautions, he hasn’t seen Mat or Perrin in forever and I don’t know if trust is really the right word there anymore either…and that leaves Min. The one person with him who he can confide in, who can bring him at least a little bit back to himself, who he can trust completely.

And he caught himself here, but still the suspicion was so quick to come, and he had to push it aside. It was still his first reaction, and he had to consciously stop himself from following that path. Oh Rand.

Burn me! He thought. She’s right. I’ve grown too harsh. What will become of me if I begin to grow suspicious of those that I know love me? I’ll be no better than mad Lews Therin.

It’s a good line of thought, and a necessary one, but I’m still SO CONCERNED because again, this entire chapter has been ANTICIPATION EVERYWHERE and at any moment it’s going to go horribly wrong and

“Min,” he said, softening his voice. “Maybe you’re right. Perhaps I’ve gone too far.”

She turned to look at him, relaxing. Then she stiffened, eyes widening in shock.

Something cold clicked around Rand’s neck.

AFLKE;JLASJS;ELTIAH;ERKLEFJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That is such spectacularly terrible timing. The moment he lets his guard down, the moment he lets himself – makes himself – soften even a little. The moment he reminds himself to trust. The moment he begins to admit something he really needs to admit to; he needs this realisation so badly. And he’s on the verge of it there, and then…this.

Because this will only teach him the cost of that ‘weakness’. The price of trust.

It’s so perfect because it’s SO AWFUL. The exact worst thing happening at the exact worst moment.

The serving woman stood behind him, but her form was shimmering. She vanished and was replaced by a woman with dark skin and black eyes, her sharp face triumphant. Semirhage.

HERE. WE. GO.

At that moment, Rand felt terror. He met Semirhage’s eyes anyway, and she smiled deeply.

THIS IS THE WORST THING AND I’M SO HERE FOR IT.

He’s absolutely powerless. It’s the box again but worse, and it’s the same thing – half a second of something that could almost be mistaken for a tiny bit of trust, and it ends in pain and powerlessness and terror. And there’s nothing he can do so he tries to stand defiant but this is Semirhage and she has absolute power over him right now and that is absolutely horrifying.

This is where Rand breaks, isn’t it?

And oh shit I just realised that this is set up so that Min is in the room.

Just when Rand was thinking about how he tried so hard to convince his enemies that he was a man without affection. One of the few people he shows and feels genuine affection for is in the room, and Semirhage knows how to hurt people the most, and “I would cut off my arm before I hurt you.”

Run, Min.

Or throw a knife. That works too.

Well it doesn’t work, actually, which is kind of a shame, but. Massive credit to Min for trying – again. This is Semirhage, one of the Forsaken, one of the most powerful channellers in the world and the monster parents scared their children with for millennia, and Min should be so out of her depth but she just…decides not to be. She’ll face this, and pull a knife, and call for help, and do anything she can think of, because that’s what she does.

And Rand is just…standing there watching, powerless to move, unable to grasp saidin, unable to do anything at all.

Desperate, Rand reached for saidin again, but found nothing. In his head, Lews Therin began to snarl and weep, and Rand felt almost as if he would join the man. Min! He had to get to her. He had to be strong enough!

He forced himself toward Semirhage and Elza, but it was as if he were trying to move someone else’s legs. He was trapped in his own head, like Lews Therin. He opened his mouth to curse, but nothing came out beyond a croak.

This is…terrifying and it’s just the beginning, because she hasn’t even done anything yet. But he’s absolutely powerless, no matter how much he tells himself that he has to be strong enough – there’s nothing he can do. He’s been here before, in the box, and that only makes it worse.

And…somehow he’s going to have to find a way out of this, because that’s how this works, so now I’m just remembering the They will pay. I am the Lord of the Morning moment and trying to think how that will scale up, and.

I love how perfectly, incredibly, beautifully awful this is. It’s…you really couldn’t make this worse for Rand. To be so powerless, at a moment where he almost allowed himself to acknowledge that he has gone too far. To take that and then encage him, put him at the mercy of the one who knows pain better than possibly anyone else alive. While Min is there. And he knows what this collar is, knows that Semirhage can control him with it, knows her and what she is capable of, and there’s no way out.

Just. Wow. I…yeah.

Rand stood up off the bed, his legs moving against his will. Then, his own hand whipped up and began to squeeze his throat just above the neck band. He gasped, stumbling. Frantic, he reached again for saidin. He found pain.

THIS IS SO MUCH.

I UNDERSTAND NOW WHY YOU ALL KEPT WHISPERING ‘22’ AT ME.

THIS IS SO SPECTACULARLY TERRIBLE AND IT’S JUST GOING TO GET WORSE AND THIS IS IT THIS IS THE BREAKING POINT THIS IS

This is just the warm-up and

We’re in the box again! Lews Therin cried.

And suddenly, he was. He could see it, the black confines, crushing him. His body sore from repeated beatings, his mind frantic to remain sane. Lews Therin had been his only companion.

I mean there is a slight irony to ‘frantic to remain sane’ being immediately followed by talking about the voice in his head as his only companion. But yeah, this is the box again. Except, you know, worse.

Boxes are bad for dragons.

Rand hadn’t been willing to see Lews Therin as part of himself. The mad part of himself, the part that could deal with torture, if only because it was already so tortured. More pain and suffering was meaningless.

This is Fine, I am completely fine, this is absolutely 100% okay. Oh, Rand. That…hurts.

And it’s also such a twisted reflection of Egwene’s recent adventures in pain. She took it in and was able to disregard it because it was secondary to the greater pain of watching the Tower fall apart, but in it she found strength and purpose and a cause she believed in. There is pain, but she could endure it because she was focused on something greater. Rand…it’s similar and yet so very different. The pain is meaningless because there’s so much more pain, so much that he won’t even let himself acknowledge it as his, because it broke Lews Therin so how could it not break him too, if he lets that barrier down? The pain is just more pain, and he’s focused on another goal, but even that brings pain, and he’s forcing himself through it but it all hurts and he so badly wants an ending but he can’t even let himself hope for that too strongly. It’s such an excellent and terrible not-quite-parallel, because it really does manage to be so similar in so many ways, and yet create a sense of opposites.

Perhaps a large portion of the difference comes from that moment when Egwene realised the key: understanding. She knows why she’s fighting, and it strengthens her. Rand hasn’t reached that point of his own arc, quite – he knows he has to win the Last Battle but he’s lost so much of the reason for it. He’ll have to reach that point too, but this is….not the time for it. This is kind of the opposite of that.

He stopped screaming. The pain was still there, it made his eyes water, but the screams would not come. All fell still.

And Egwene stood silently before Elaida and the other Aes Sedai, beaten and bleeding, but calm. Yet for her it was a moment of triumph, while for Rand it is a moment of desperation; he is very close to seeking refuge in madness, here. He is powerless and he can’t see a way out and it’s taking him back to the worst thing he has endured and making it even worse and this is not even remotely a moment of victory. This is despair.

So you get these scenes that are similar in staging, to some extent, with similar beats, and yet they serve almost opposite purposes. I love it.

Also just so much pain.

Semirhage looked down at him, frowning, blood dripping from her chin. Another wave of pain washed across him. Whoever he was.

He stared up at her. Silent.

WHOEVER HE WAS.

WOW.

THAT’S…damn. Whoever he was. He’s adrift in pain, letting himself take refuge in the part of him that is Lews Therin, because there is so much pain there that more is meaningless, and yet he’s not fully Lews Therin either, he’s just…

It reminds me of the battle of Cairhien, in that sequence where Rand comes close to losing himself kind of for the first time, where we get one of my favourite lines: because of Couladin, true, but at the heart of it, because of himself. For a moment, he could not remember his name.

It’s eerie and silent and absolutely terrifying.

Whoever he was. Just…yeah. I…yeah.

He stared up at her. Silent.

When they beat him, after taking him out of the box, he made himself smile through the pain. Now…now it is just silence. Staring at her silently as the pain washes over him and even his identity is adrift. Silence. Nothing. And in its own way it’s even more than the defiant smile. This isn’t defiance, really. It’s something else. Apathy, maybe, except that’s not quite right either.

“What are you doing?” she said, compelling him. “Speak.”

“No more can be done to me,” he whispered.

OH.

WOW.

OKAY THAT’S.

ALRIGHT. UM.

YEAH.

I was trying to find the words to describe the silence and then THIS HAPPENED and yeah it’s a perfect description and it’s so chilling.

Also because Rand now is not the time to issue that kind of challenge.

But mostly because…no more can be done to me. We’ve reached that point. So much pain and suffering that more is just…more. It’s meaningless. There’s nothing left, and there’s barely even anything left of him, and he is a being of pain, what’s a little more?

There’s just this sense of that step past desperation – desperation implies hope. And Rand was there a few seconds ago but now he’s just…pain.

Wow that line is a lot.

Shit. Okay.

Another wave of pain. It shocked him, and something inside of him whimpered, but he gave no outward reaction. Not because he held the screams in, but because he couldn’t feel anything.

I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS.

Well okay actually I want to compare it to Egwene again because that’s another difference – she withstands the pain, and accepts it. She feels it, and it hurts, and she withstands it because there is a greater pain that she also allows herself to feel, and she accepts that too because it is a part of her purpose, and she embraces that purpose.

I just love how a very similar concept – the nature of pain, and the point at which it is ‘overcome’ – can be used in such starkly different scenes. One a triumph, one a nadir.

The box, the two wounds in his side corrupting his own blood, beatings, humiliation, sorrows and his own suicide.

OKAY JUST. THROW THAT AT ME. RIGHT OKAY UM.

Sorrows and his own suicide WHY WOULD YOU EVEN.

Just. Wow. That…I can’t really say that came out of nowhere but damn.

Killing himself. He could suddenly and starkly remember that.

The moment Lews Therin broke. And he can remember it, remember it clearly, sorrows and his own suicide, and what does that do to someone? To remember that, while he is powerless and in pain, already barely withstanding everything he has to endure in this lifetime, remembering in vivid detail the moment he broke in his last one. I just. This is.

This is so good. This is so well done; that doesn’t do it justice but I’m really kind of amazed by this scene because to get something like this right is hard. Rand’s been through so much that it could easily just be ‘okay and now there’s more pain’, or it could be too much and just become absurd or meaningless, but it manages to find a balance where everything just hurts.

After all of these things, what more could Semirhage do to him?

Do. Not. Ask. That.

“Great Mistress,” Elza said, turning to Semirhage, eyes still seeming faintly dazed by something.

Possibly by the removal of the Compulsion in her mind but also very possibly by the pain she can feel secondhand through the Domination Band. And Rand doesn’t even consider that; it’s another of those moments where you see Rand through another character’s eyes even as you’re in his POV and it’s a little bit horrifying.

“That’s twice now those knives have tasted my blood.”

Min. Run.

“You say nothing more can be done to you? You forget, Lews Therin, to whom you speak. Pain is my specialty”

Yeah.

The thing is, hurting Rand himself may be more or less meaningless at this point. He exists in pain. But you don’t have to hurt Rand to break him.

He turned around, obeying her wordless command, and found Min hanging above the floor, tied by invisible ropes of Air. Her eyes were wild with fear, her arms bound behind her back, her mouth blocked by a woven Air gag.

It was always leading here. To hurt one of the last people in the world he cares about, who loves him, who he loves. And he remembers Lews Therin’s last moments, remembers Ilyena, remembers sorrows and his own suicide and now he’s standing powerless and in pain and he has to see where this is going and still there is nothing he can do.

This is…absolutely perfect. There’s really no way this could have been made worse.

Use it, Lews Therin whispered. Kill her while we can! I will not kill a woman, Rand thought stubbornly, a figment of a memory from the back of his mind. That is the line I will not cross…

I mean if you don’t cross it you’re going to kill a woman you care about. But if you do cross it, then you’ve crossed your last line. And so either way Rand loses, because this is the line he has drawn in the sand, the moral event horizon he has set himself, the last threshold he will not – cannot – cross, because crossing it means he has nothing left to hold to. It doesn’t matter what the line is; it matters that there is a line at all, and now…I’m not really seeing a way out of this without crossing it one way or another.

The last that could be done. There is a double meaning there, perhaps, and if so it’s excellent.

And then he began to form weaves, complicated ones of Spirit and Fire.

“Yes,” Semirhage said, almost to herself. “Now, if I can remember…The male way of doing this is so odd, sometimes.”

Rand made the weaves, then pushed them toward Min. “No!” he screamed as he did so. “Not that!”

“Ah, so you see,” Semirhage said. “You weren’t so difficult to break after all.”

Semirhage is spectacular. I was annoyed that she wasn’t getting a chance to live up to her reputation but holy shit does this ever make up for it. Because this. This is.

This is one hell of a way to fulfil the character Semirhage promised, in the mentions and glimpses of her. Which is a hard thing to do, because that kind of character often works better off-screen than on; most of the time they end up disappointing. Semirhage almost did, but man, this changes things.

The weaves touched Min and she writhed in pain. Rand continued to channel, tears springing to his eyes as he was forced to send the complex weaves through her body.

I am 100% certain this is not the way he should be re-learning tears.

Semirhage must have released Min’s gag, for she began to scream, weeping. “Please, Rand!” she begged. “Please!”

And it’s awful because she loves him and cares for him and trusts him, and knows he never wants to hurt her…and now he is torturing her and it isn’t him and she knows that but that kind of…doesn’t change the fact that she is in pain at his hands. And she’s begging him, and there’s no way he’s not going to play that over and over in his mind and hate himself for it, and what is it going to be like for Min, to look at someone she loves and remember agony at his hands?

Rand roared in anger, trying to stop, unable to. He could feel Min’s pain through the bond, feel it as he caused it.

I…he isn’t actually going to kill Min, is he? And in doing so break the Warder bond himself? We’re not actually going there, are we?

“Stop this!” he bellowed.

“Beg,” Semirhage said.

“Please,” he said, weeping. “Please, I beg you.”

He’s not even trying for defiance. He just…begs.

I guess the fact that he’s weeping could be considered progress?

But damn the image of him standing there, torturing someone he loves and begging, when moments before there was nothing but pain and silence.

He bowed his head. There had to be a way out! He imagined her using him to tear through the ranks of his own men. He imagined them afraid to attack, lest they harm him. He saw the blood, death and destruction he would cause. And it chilled him, turned him to ice inside.

They have won.

THIS IS SO. MUCH.

THIS IS SO GOOD I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE I’M JUST.

WELL FUCKING PLAYED.

That image. Of Rand used as a weapon against his own, of Dumai’s Wells and Ebou Dar but so many times worse, turned against his own side; he’s made himself into a weapon and now he’s in the wrong hands and wow that is an image.

I mean, it’s not going to come to that but it kind of doesn’t need to.

Semirhage glanced at the door, then turned back to him and smiled. “But I’m afraid we must deal with her first. Let’s be about it then.”

Rand turned and began to walk toward Min. “No!” he said. “You promised if I begged—”

“I promised nothing,” Semirhage said with a laugh. “You begged quite prettily, Lews Therin, but I have chosen to ignore your pleas.”

She’s good. She’s very, very good at this. To make him do what he would see as the worst possible thing, to offer him a way out. And he begged so easily, without hesitation, because there was no question of defiance at that point. To give him that reprieve, even as he thought ahead to the horrors awaiting, but at least the immediate horror has passed. And then to turn back as an afterthought. It’s so much worse than if she had done this right away. To give him that almost-hope, and then to hand him absolute despair.

He stepped up to Min, her pleading eyes meeting his. Then he pressed his hand to her throat, gripping it, and began to squeeze.

“No…” he whispered in horror as his hand, against his will, cut off her air. Min stumbled, and he unwillingly forced her down to the ground, easily ignoring her struggles. He loomed above her, pressing his hand against her throat, gripping it and choking her. She looked at him, eyes beginning to bulge.

How will she look at him after this? It’s such beautifully crafted cruelty towards both of them. They’re both absolutely powerless and this isn’t Rand’s fault, it’s not his choice…but it is still him. And the way it’s written, the language here, highlights that. Forcing her to the ground. Ignoring her struggles. Looming above her. And she can know it’s not really him, that he’s being forced to do this, but. It’s his face and his hands and his body and he is the one she sees and that’s not the sort of thing you can just forget, or ignore.

The one who loves him, the one who trusts him, the one he trusts, the one he can confide in. The one who still sees him as human, as ‘sheepherder’, as Rand. And she’ll still want to, but how do you…get past something like this? How do you avoid it leaving some scars? And that will only hurt them both more.

Also please, please do not kill Min.

This can’t be happening.

Semirhage laughed.

Ilyena! Lews Therin wailed. Oh, Light! I’ve killed her!

Rand squeezed harder, leaning down for leverage, his fingers squeezing Min’s skin and pushing down on her throat.

It’s so detailed, so visceral, which of course it is because that’s the entire point. Every step of this is him, he is doing this and causing this pain and there’s nothing he can do to make it stop and this is Min and she’s still staring up at him and wow this scene is.

He felt horror, he felt her pain. Min’s face grew purple, her eyes fluttered. Rand wailed. THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! I WILL NOT DO THIS AGAIN!

ASLFKAJSLESJAT;LIEHRSE

And he’s remembering the last time and it’s the same thing, lifetimes repeating, doomed to Lews Therin’s fate as he so feared he would be, remembering breaking as Lews Therin even as he’s being broken as Rand and it just compounds, and

Something snapped inside of him.

Okay.

Yeah.

So this is.

This is it.

This is the actual breaking point and.

He grew cold; then that coldness vanished, and he could feel nothing.

The last that could be done. The last step into absolute unfeeling steel, into numbness, nothingness.

No emotion. No anger.

At that moment he grew aware of a strange force.

……..oh.

I.

No.

NO THAT ISN’T

ARE YOU

IS

THAT IS

I

And if it is, if what it takes to access that power is true nothingness, no emotion, no anger…what does it say about Rand that this is the state he has been striving for for so long? To be steel. To harden himself until he cannot feel. If that has been his goal, and in achieving it he can touch the Shadow’s own power…

I mean the ‘I must be steel’ thing was pretty clearly Not Good but if the endpoing of that trajectory is the True Power, that’s. Um. I mean, the goal was to play Rand until he served the Shadow, even as he stood as champion of the Light. He must know anguish.

Wow.

Okay I can say I did not expect this.

I mean, I wondered, briefly, about Rand and the True Power in terms of his connection to Moridin - I remember at one point saying ‘...Rand can’t use the True Power, can he?’ which in hindsight oops - but like.

I did not expect this.

A clouded face flashed before Rand’s own, one whose features he couldn’t quite make out. It was gone in a moment.

Is he accessing this through Moridin, somehow? And in light of what I was just speculating about, with the whole ‘saidin was tainted because it touched the Dark One but something has to touch him’ thing…if Rand can access the True Power….

But that’s going to come at a price.

I mean the fact that he’s accessing it at all, here, is a price.

Oh, Light, Lews Therin suddenly screamed. That’s impossible! We can’t use it! Cast it away! That is death we hold, death and betrayal!

It is HIM.

Chills. Actual chills. That is…wow. That is such a terrifying, perfect, chilling moment. It is HIM. That beat, there. The realisation. The absolute stunned horror.

This is Rand’s low point, and he reaches out and touches the Shadow.

How perfect is that? How absolutely, perfectly, beautifully terrible?

That is death we hold, death and betrayal. What a line.

I wondered how They will pay. I am the Lord of the Morning would scale up. This. This is how. This is…

Looking for any way out, a way to save himself and Min, a way to escape from Semirhage’s hold over him, a way to reclaim himself…

And to do so, he seizes the Dark One’s own power.

Rand closed his eyes as he knelt above Min, then he channelled the strange, unknown force. Energy and life surged through him, a torrent of power like saidin, only ten times as sweet and a hundred times as violent. It made him alive, made him realise that he’d never been alive before. It gave him such strength as he’d never imagined. It rivalled, even, the power he’d held when drawing from the Choedan Kal.

He screamed, in both rapture and rage, and wove enormous spears of Fire and Air. He slammed the weaves against the collar at his neck, and the room exploded with flames and bits of molten metal, each one distinct to Rand. He could feel each shard of metal blast away from his neck, warping the air with its heat, trailing smoke as it hit a wall or the floor. He opened his eyes and released Min. She gasped and sobbed.

And somehow this, his moment of escape and what should be some kind of victory, eclipses in horror the previous moments. Somehow, this managed to make it worse, even as he freed himself. It is HIM.

This.

Is a stunningly well-executed scene.

Because this is it. The last that could be done, and he reached for any way to stop it, any way at all, and found true emotionlessness and in that, the Shadow’s power.

The champion of the Light, channelling the power of the Dark One. He must know anguish. He did, and it pushed him to this. It is HIM. And so the Shadow lays claim to him. He hasn’t turned but this is…I mean, this is what the Shadow wanted. Even his victory may be as dark as his defeat. It was the only way, and yet.

The True Power.

I’m still just…kind of stunned.

Oh okay we’re not done.

Of course we’re not done.

Rand raised a hand and, filled with the power he did not understand, wove a single weave. A bar of pure white light, a cleansing fire, burst from his hand and struck Semirhage in the chest. She flashed and vanished, leaving a faint afterimage to Rand’s vision. Her bracelet dropped to the floor.

Elza ran toward the door. She vanished before another bar of light, her entire figure becoming light for a moment.

No anguish, no agonised decision, no moment of hesitation, no word, not even any thought shown. Just…a lifted hand, a weave of power, and light. One and then the other, and we see nothing of Rand’s thoughts. No anger, no emotion.

The last line. The last that could be done.

And in that sense, breaking the Domination Band is rather symbolic – it’s the shattering of a restraint. The last thing holding him back. And he breaks it, using the True Power, and as that last restraint falls away and he embraces the Shadow’s power, he crosses the last restraint he’s made for himself. Quietly, almost easily.  

What have you done? Lews Therin asked. Oh, Light. Better to have killed again than to do this...Oh, Light. We are doomed.

Rand savoured the power for a moment longer, then – regretfully – let it drop away.

That is such a chilling contrast. Still no thoughts from Rand, because it’s all Lews Therin now. Rand has relinquished that. He’s crossed that line and a part of him knows it, and is horrified by it – and more so by that power he has just touched – but only as Lews Therin does he let himself acknowledge it. And the only thoughts we’re getting here are Lews Therin’s, because Rand is in that numb state of no emotion.

And the contrast of Lews Therin’s absolute horror against Rand savouring that power, and regretfully letting it go. Not even thinking about what he’s just done.

It’s also…I love that it’s What have you done rather than the more classic What have I done? Because, given the nature of Rand and Lews Therin, it’s the same thing. But because it’s phrased this way, it’s also…not. And it’s even more chilling because of it.

The way he can go from we are doomed to this eerily quiet savouring of power before regretfully relinquishing it. The True Power.

You guys. I’m. Wow. This is a lot, and I was expecting a lot. But this is phenomenal. This is absolutely perfect and by that I mean this is the actual worst thing that could possibly have happened and it’s executed so. well.

Just the soft, chilling, silent horror here, and the sense that a part of Rand is screaming and he doesn’t let himself acknowledge it – at least not as himself. That he’s just…empty but for this power he has now found. Empty and emotionless and unfettered.

She looked up at him, and seemed afraid. He doubted that she would ever see him the same way again.

….Yeah.

I mean this is Min, and she’s pretty incredible, but. Yeah.

Also still the narrative we get from Rand is so…emotionless. Clinical. This is technically a thought from him, this expression of doubt, but there’s nothing attached to it. No emotion, no sense of regret, just…statement. Lews Therin is the only part of him that’s able to feel anything about what’s just happened, and that part is almost incoherently horrified. It’s this chilling, jarring dissonant contrast, within Rand’s mind, and the way it’s played out here is…yeah. *shivers*

He had been wrong; there had indeed been something more that Semirhage could do to him. He had felt himself killing one he loved dearly. Before, when he’d done it as Lews Therin, he had been mad and unable to control himself. He could barely remember slaying Ilyena, as if through a clouded dream. He’d realised what he had done only after Ishamael had awakened him.

Finally, now, he knew precisely what it was like to watch as he killed those he loved.

Even this is…clinical, sterile. Precise. A clear description, but utterly devoid of emotion. Eerily so, because the last bit of true emotion we got was Lews Therin’s voice with Oh light…we are doomed. And before that the absolute terror of It is HIM.

And in that time, Rand has escaped Semirhage’s grasp and seized the Shadow’s power and killed two people and crossed his last threshold, and all without…thought. Emotion. It’s just…events. Happening. Actions. Which makes this all so much more horrifying. And makes it so much clearer exactly what it is that he’s done here, in taking those last steps.

The last that could be done.

This. This is a low point. This is the low point.

Also I have to take note of how Rand doesn’t distinguish between himself and Lews Therin in that last paragraph there. It’s when he’d done it as Lews Therin rather than when Lews Therin had done it. It’s he realised what he had done. So on the one hand he’s pushing any horror he feels at all of this across that barrier but on the other hand…he’s barely keeping them separate. Which is interesting. Is that the next thing, then? The piece that will let him start stepping away from this low point? Though I have a feeling we’ll be spending a little more time down here. Best get comfortable.

“It is done,” Rand whispered.

“What?” Min asked, coughing again.

“The last that could be done to me,” he said, surprised at his own calmness. “They have taken everything from me now.”

Oh, Rand.

And it’s fitting that he’s so calm, that he says this so quietly and emotionlessly, and it hurts and it’s beautiful and I thought I was prepared for this but in hindsight I’m not sure I was actually completely prepared for it.

This exceeded my expectations.

They have taken everything from me now. I just...oh Rand.

Just that…calm acceptance that it is done. This is it. There is nothing more they can do, they have taken everything, there is nothing left to hold on to. He has crossed those last lines and while he literally begged and wept in the moments before, at the actual threshold it’s barely a sigh. And now that he has crossed, now that it’s done, it’s just…quiet. Because what more is there to plead for, or fight against? What purpose is there in defiance, in anguish? He has lost everything, relinquished the last of himself, crossed the final line that was holding him, that was letting himself believe he still had some shred of Light left to him, and now that’s gone, and so this is it. No pain, no emotion, nothing, because he has moved past that now.

Which is, you know, horrifying.

On so many levels.

I love this. A lot. This is how you break a character.

And it’s also a really interesting place to go because while I’ll be astonished if he doesn’t manage to find his way back somehow – or forward, I suppose, or upwards – crossing a moral event horizon and reaching this state of the-other-side-of-pain-but-not-in-a-good-way is. Quite a step. As far as Rand is concerned, he’s now past the point of redemption. So where do you go from there? What does he do in this state, and more than that, how does he find his way back to humanity?

“I have made my choice, Min,” he said, turning toward the door. “You have asked for flexibility and laughter from me, but such things are no longer mine to give. I am sorry.”

Even that is…we still don’t really see his thoughts here. Because there…kind of isn’t anything there. It’s not a painful, agonising sorrow. It’s not horror at having hurt her, and begging forgiveness. It’s not feeling her love through the bond. It’s just…a statement of fact. I don’t know how human the Dragon Reborn can afford to be, he said to Nynaeve seven books ago. And now…this. The last that could be done.

It appeared that steel was too weak.

He would be harder, now. He understood how. Where he had once been steel, he became something else. From now on, he was cuendillar. HE had entered a place like the void that Tam had trained him to seek, so long ago. But within this void he had no emotion. None at all.

They could not break or bend him.

It was done.

And so the Shadow rejoices.

What a chapter.

That…yeah. That was incredible. I asked for fictional characters in pain and wow did this deliver.

And just…damn. I…yeah. Okay. I’m going to have a cup of tea and like. Stare at it.

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