Damage Control
Part 2 of Shattered

He pressed his back to the wall and focused very firmly on not panicking. It was working, to a degree. The problem was that Xavier had been in combat situations repeatedly before -- but never where the One Power was involved. He was used to the site of blood, and knives, and people trying to kill him, he was not used to the sight of perfectly ordinary furniture exploding inches away from him, and the shattered remnants launching themselves at him, missiles of death. He'd glimpses others fleeing, but they had seemed to get away from the destruction area, while he remained. More bad luck with women.

Goosebumps rose on his skin and instinctively he threw himself away from the wall, just in time as a fireball exploded against it, blackening the surface.

His nose pressed to the carpet, Xavier stared at the sooty black streaks, and irrationally he felt irritable because surely HE would be the one to have to clean that. A second later the goosebumps came again, and he looked down the hallway with a chill, as another fireball raced right for him.

With a startled yelp he managed to seize Saidin. For once the Taint didn't bother him at all, as with a desperation he could barely control he flung up a shield. The difficulty made a sweat break out on his forehead, but the shield held, the fireball harmless impacting on it and sputtering out. Thanking the Light, the Creator, and everything else he could think of, Xavier darted away down a hallway, praying that the insane Accepted who was currently destroying the Tower went in the other direction, for once.

Liranan leaned against the wall for a long moment, panting. She felt tired ... oh so tired. She hadn't felt this drained and exhausted since her Arches, since that last Arch. She hadn't had to do any sort of Battle Channeling since then, either, except a very basic course she's skimmed through as an Accepted. That hadn't been very difficult, but by then she'd turned her face away from Green, away from ... what might have been. She pulled herself upright resolutely, trying to ignore and minimize the wobbles in her legs.

She hated to admit it, but she wasn't going to be able to deal with Marisa. Not on her own. Trying to track down the girl and capture her would probably merely get her in worse shape. No, that wasn't the thing to do. Liranan took off down the hallways, running, her skirts lifted from her ankles. She ignored the trail of destruction and bolted to the higher levels of the Tower, to the Amyrlin.

Kaiulani lifted her head from her desk. She could have sworn she had felt a huge amount of channeling. No, she was just going crazy. Was the taint seeping to the female half of the Power? Doubtful, Lani was just too stressed for her own good.

Liranan spilled into the Amyrlin's office with a gasp, panting from the run. "Mother," she said, praying she wasn't interrupting anything, "we have a problem...."

As though to punctuate this statement, a muffled boom came from below.

Calmly, yet quickly, Kaiulani rose from her chair, "So, I did feel a large amount of channeling? IT did seem too much for a lesson." Kaiulani could tell the woman was tired, she walked over to her wall, and quickly unwove a weave that was set on the wall. She removed the stone slab, and reached in. Angreal. There were many angreal in the tower of course, but Kaiulani had her own little collection. Not all of it was part of this collection though. Three of the eight angreal were the ones she called "hers." The others were ones that a group of browns had recently brought back from a trip to the Mountains of Mists. Kaiulani reached for two of "hers."

Of course, they did not belong to her persay. But, she was Amyrlin, and unbonded. She had to have something to aid her if the case called for it. These two were perfect though.

She handed Liranan a thin angreal, "Put it about your arm, like a bracelet." She picked another for her, and slipped it around her upper arm. "Now, fill me in as we go down. Is there a way to signal others?"

Liranan probably thought the Amyrlin crazy, but she wasn't. This was her tower, and she would not let someone ruin it. Nobody, no matter how strong they were, was going to take down this tower. She would die protecting it, and it's members. And, she was prepared to do so.

She was in the basement rooms beneath the tower. She was teaching a Rat simple commands with touches of Air. It was responding well.

Things were looking up. Aside from that wretched Male Novice dumping her into a Pond, for reasons she simply could not fathom, things were definitely looking up. Well... Aside from the fact that Dia was being raised. Had been raised. And Arcena. Beautiful coward she had become, had failed in keeping Dia from her arches. The woman would hate her now, not that they were ever friends before, so Arcena simply remained in the lower parts of the tower, hiding, and learning, Trying to decide what exactly she was going to do next.

She wandered through the dimly lit tunnels, through unlocked storage rooms with little of importance, past locked and barred storage rooms with much of importance, and through winding chambers after winding chambers. She was near somewhere familiar, when she felt it.

Something very bad was happening It was a gut feeling, a Danger sense, tripled by the fact that the Power was being used ... a lot ... and worse...

She felt Fire.

She slammed her face against the rough wall, to be sure she wasn't deluding herself again. She tasted her blood in her mouth, and felt a trickle near her eye, but still felt the Power.

Her honor woke in her ... the honor that hadn't been washed away by hatred and fear ... and she ran through the passages she'd learned well to the source of the Power, Hearing crashes in the Office she so often desperately tried to avoid. Shouting, crashing...

Fire...

"For the Love of the Light this feels like an Arch." She whispered.

She crept closer, noting flickers of light in Liranan's office. She was Drawn and repulsed. and soon, she didn't have to make a decision.

Explosions shattered the hallway. She threw herself against a wall and hid herself with air as she saw the Seanchan Girl ... the one from her arches ... emerge from the Office and head down the hall, throwing fireballs everywhere.

Again, she tasted the blood in her mouth to be sure she wasn't delusional ... she had to be delusional... Then she saw that Novice... The one who had thrown her into the pond, avoiding Fireballs as the Seanchan girl moved away from her and toward him.

She dropped her air shield and waved at the Novice, Ducking into Liranan's office before she realized what she was doing.

"Liranan Sedai..? Are you all right..?"

Ta'ima was humming happily, albeit off key. She was done scrubbing pots in the kitchen for the next three days, barring any punishments she might earn, though that was not entirely the reason that she was in a good mood. From time to time, she found it necessary to keep her hand in and this was a stunt that her brothers would be proud of, had they known. She had no use for the frying pan, of course, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she had managed to snag it from the kitchen without anyone at all noticing. It wasn't exactly comfortable hidden under her dress they way it was, and it certainly interfered with any running that might become necessary, but the point was that she had managed to do it.

Ta'ima was already trying to decide what to do with it. Sneaking it into the kitchen was no challenge at all. She wouldn't need to sneak it back in, though she would anyway. It might make an interesting addition to someone's bed, but who? Several of her fellow novices deserved to have their noses pinched just a little bit, stuck up as they were. There were no Accepted or Aes Sedai that had punished her recently, so there was no reason to chose any of them. Of course then it would just be a good prank. That was a very nice fireball going down the hallway there. Now who should... Fireball. Oh blood and bloody ashes. Ta'ima scrambled to the wall and pressed herself against it, just as the Darkfriend, no Black Ajah, no... Accepted?! passed by the intersection of the hallway.

Ta'ima didn't recognize the Accepted, but she did recognize the look in the woman's eyes. It was the same look that had been in one of her mother's boyfriends eyes that night he found out he was one of mother's boyfriends. Of course that man had had a knife, not the One Power as a weapon and her brother had simply bashed in the man's head before he got to mother, but that the-only-solution-is-to-kill-everyone look, that she knew. The most logical thing that she could do was run. She could barely grasp the source when she was calm most days and she didn't have a weapon of any kind.

The pain of metal being pressed into her flesh brought her out of her scared rabbit imitation. A frying pan wasn't exactly the best weapon, but if all she wanted to do was try to knock someone out, it might work. She pulled the frying pan out of it's hiding place and looked at it. It seemed sturdy enough. Ta'ima jsut hoped that she would live long enough to be able to regret this.

There was much more smoke in the hallways now. Ta'ima had to crouch as she moved slowly and silently along the wall. The Accepted was still walking normally and seemed to be suffering some from the smoke, but not really aware of it. Good, she would be less likely to see Ta'ima's soot stained gown if she did turn around. Trailing the woman was easy enough, though catching up might be a bit of a challenge if she were to keep silent.

Her palms were beginning to sweat as she gripped the handle of the pan. She carefully rubbed them on her dress and continued on. She didn't know why she was doing this, why she wasn't just looking out for her own skin, but all those fluffheaded nobles would just get themselves killed and swords wouldn't do much good against fireballs. She was just buying time for others. It wasn't like the tower really needed someone who couldn't control their abilities. Any of those other girls were probably worth dozens of her.

Ta'ima was aware of the burning tapestries only enough to avoid them. The smoke and heat were nothing to her and she had no time to notice them. There was only the need to move without being noticed and to keep her mark in sight. This was no different from picking pockets. She only needed to keep moving.

Donavan heard the noises even before she realized she was walking in their direction. Screams and the sounds of fire burning filled her ears as the acrid scent of Power wrought fire burned her nose. She walked down the hallway, her staff in hand, in an on-threatening manner, cautiously, to discover the problem within. A woman was hurling fireballs in random directions much to the surprise of distraught Novices and Accepted. The Woman herself wore the Banded Dress of an Accepted though it looked a bit tattered from the battle. Through the haze, her features were indistinguishable, but instinct, and common sense, told her the woman was a trifle on the angry side.

Either that or she was Crazy.

Either way, this was what Donavan lived for. She leaned on her staff, standing quite still, and using the first rule of forceful negotiation.

"Hey... Accepted... Calm yourself and We'll talk." She paused, waiting for a reaction before she added, "And if you don't, I'll stop you."

Liranan nearly dropped the angreal when it was handed to her. She had a profound urge to demand, like a startled Novice, where the Amyrlin had gotten it. She firmly clamped down on that feeling: the Amyrlin had certain privileges, especially since she was Unbonded and currently had no Keeper to watch her back. She slipped the Angreal onto her arm and felt it's difference as the embraced Saidar. She firmly pushed that euphoria aside and turned to practical matters as she began following the Amyrlin to where she had left Marisa.

Recapping the events were not hard. The Amyrlin herself had been present at the girl's entrance to the Tower and knew how unstable she was. She probably also had reports from Aes Sedai like Mena, Aes Sedai who had been futilely trying to work with this girl. So she had some idea how close to the edge the girl had walked -- and how easily she had gone over the edge.

Liranan herself felt guilty. She should have stopped this -- she was a fully trained Aes Sedai, how had an Accepted - any Accepted - managed to get the better of her? She didn't express these thoughts aloud, but she could hear them coloring her narrative to the Amyrlin.

At long last -- or perhaps it had barely been any time at all -- they reached the section of the Tower Marisa was loose in. Scorched walls and lingering smoke spoke louder than any words could that Marisa had been here. "Now what, Mother?" Liranan asked, content to leave the planing in the Amyrlin's hands. She had failed once - better she not be given the chance again.

Arcena blinked into the office, calling to the Liranan Sedai that she thought she saw. Seeing that it in fact was only a burnt blanket crumpled on the floor. The smoke was filling her eyes. The fire was licking up all over the place. Her arches came back to her, her memories of the Barn came back to her. The Very fact that she was an Accepted of the White Tower regardless of whatever was going on came back to her.

She barely noticed Xavier in the hallway as she walked through the remaining fires in the hallway after Marisa. She noted a woman leaning on a staff and calling out to the other accepted, she thought she saw Liranan and the Amyrlin standing off to one side deciding what to do.

The fires burning around her gave her strength inside. She wasn't afraid of fire, fire had given it's all and she was still alive to blow kisses at it. She'd been wandering around this place for the last few months in a frightened Rut, when all she had to do was take control. Liranan couldn't kill her, not with the rest of the tower watching. Maybe not even if they weren't. One Light burned Accepted wasn't anything she couldn't handle. She'd killed a Trolloc on a hunt as her Brother. She had Survived Fire's Best attempt! This was gonna be a cakewalk.

Lani's head whipped around and saw Donavan standing there. Yes, the woman was the best warder in the tower, but even she couldn't stand up to a crazy One Power wielding Accepted and win.

Arcena wheeled around, opening herself to the sweetness of Saidar. "Hey... Marisa!" She shouted across the way, "What's say you and me have it out. You wanna play girly... I'll show you what you can really do with a fireball !!" The words were no sooner out of her mouth when she remembered that she was supposed to be living up to the Oaths she hadn't took yet. Hmm. Well... There was no lie there, and so long as she didn't really use the power as a weapon everything should be fine. I wonder if smacking the back of her head with Air to knock her out is considered using the power as a weapon..? She thought. Oh well... I'm In this Now.

"Come on. Let's dance."

With this new, involvement, Kaiulani felt herself fill with anger. She had been Raised from the White Ajah, and had always tried to be calm, but it wasn't in her personality. Her temper could light like a wild fire, and it was about to. Looking at Liranan she spoke "We need to tighten down on these Accepted."

Lani drew in more of the One Power into herself, and looked at Liranan, "Link" She gave Liranan the warning, because no woman liked to be in a link all of a sudden without the knowledge it was coming. Each of them alone should have been stronger then the Accepted, but anger and fear are an odd mix. Light, I hate doing this. She'll probably think we want to leash her.

Directing the weaves towards Marisa, and readied to cut her off from the One Power.

The novice hallway was filled with smoke even before she arrived.

The figure cut through the acrid fog like a silent ghost, her white banded dress now blackened with soot. Dead embers dotted her face like gruesome freckles. One might expect that the eyes of such as she -- someone who scorched the walls with fire and lashed out blindly at every shadow that moved -- would be burning and mad, but they were almost empty ... blank pools of darkness that stared into a reality where nothing existed but misery. Even the laughing madwoman in her head had fallen silent, crouching in the smoke, face sharp and watchful. Kill them. Kill them all, something whispered.

She lifted her hands, palms up, and stared at them through the hair hanging in her face. The skin had long blistered and cracked from the flames that blasted from them, the wounds leaking clear fluid. Then, without thinking, she reached outward again and let the fire surge.

what are you doing ... you can't ... you are not like this...

It was a mere whisper, easily ignored.

Suddenly, a faint sound made the hairs at the back of her neck prickle. She knew this feeling...the danger sense had often saved her sul'dam's life and hers as well in battle. Someone was following her, trying to be quiet. The mental madwoman cackled silently at the ridiculousness of this attempt. Kill her. She wants to hurt you, she wants to take you back... Her fingers twitched as she formed threads of Fire again, preparing an attack.

don't

Grimly she walked on, forming the fireball. So simple ... to turn around ... to kill...

Then she saw the person standing before her, indistinct in the smoke, but unmistakable. Standing in her way. Blocking her. Uncertainly she paused, her hands clenched at her sides, her lips curling in a silent snarl. She felt the presence behind her pause too, and there was a quiet metallic clatter as the pursuer shifted whatever weapon she was carrying.

The figure in front of her spoke. "Hey.. Accepted.. Calm yourself and we'll talk." She paused. "And if you don't, I'll stop you."

"Get out of my way." It was not her voice, this rasping whisper. She lifted her hands, spreading her fingers out in twin fans. The woman stood her ground, calmly leaning on her staff.

The madwoman whispered, Now!

"Hey... Marisa!"

Another figure stepped out of a hallway, and the weaves of Fire faltered. Her head whipped around as she stared at the new obstacle. That name...it was familiar. No ... kill her! Don't let her near you!

"What's say you and me have it out! You wanna play girly? I'll show you what you can really do with a fireball!!"

Turning toward the enemy, her hands rose again.

stop ... stop it ... these are your friends...

Shut up! SHUT UP! The madwoman was screaming now, raving, pounding on the inside of her skull. She gritted her teeth, shaking her head to rid it of the shouting. Too loud. It was all too much. She had to make it all go away ... all the voices, all the faces...

"Come on. Let's dance." The new arrival, the angry one, embraced the One Power and stepped forward.

stop ... now ... this will not go on any longer ... I won't let it...

The voice was louder now, almost overriding the keening screams of the madwoman, filling her mind with agony. Involuntarily her hands pulled back, reaching back to encircle her head, squeezing tight... oh, Light, the pain ... someone help me ... I don't want to be like this anymore...

Someone channeled suddenly, somewhere close. And she felt a shield forming around her once again. They had come for her. She wouldn't let herself be leashed again, she wouldn't let them hurt her ... never again ... never, if she died first...if she had to kill all of them ... and with the terror and agony and sheer injustice burning in her mind, she screamed--

"NO!!"

--and fell to her knees, clutching tangles of ragged black hair in both hands, her howl choking off in her throat as her voice shattered. The enemies moved in on her as the One Power flickered and died behind the shield ... and...

and in her mind, the madwoman lifted her eyes and stared at her.

"Marisa? Marisa, listen to me..."

and in that moment, she looked into those horrible eyes ... and realized she was staring at herself. The burning insanity, the hatred, the mad animal snarl ... it was her face gaping back at her. And suddenly she knew that quiet insistent whisper had been her too ... there was still a part of her that hadn't succumbed to this madness. A part that wouldn't.

Flows of Air wrapped her from head to toe, rendering her immobile.

The madwoman spoke, spitting the words at her like poison: 'Kill them. Kill them now. All of them. They've hurt you. You fear them. You can't stand up to them...you're too afraid...so you have to destroy them...'

"No." She heard herself speak the word quite clearly.

And with that same clarity, she saw herself lift her hands and step forward. The madwoman's face had only enough time to register utter surprise. And then she ... she, Marisa Edavar, not a damane, not a helpless terrified child, but the person she had been before the Seanchan came with their leashes and tormentors...she gave one mighty shove with her hands, pushing the madwoman over the precipice that yawned before them ... she watched her fall screaming from sight...

And then Marisa Edavar was alone in her mind.

Marisa looked up, blinking blearily in the smoky light that filtered in through the window, too weary to struggle against the bonds of Air that held her kneeling on the floor. She looked around, seeing the lines of soot that scored the walls, the dull glow of fire all around. Then she looked up into Liranan Sedai's face, and saw ... not anger, not the murderous glee of a sul'dam meant to break her ... but weariness, and sorrow, and the silent, intense concern of a parent for a child. Marisa stared into those eyes ... and she remembered all that she had done.

"Liranan Sedai ... I'm sorry," she whispered. She lowered her head, exhausted, and began to cry.

It had been enough.

Now, now that it was over, some part of her had to laugh at the thought it wouldn't have been. Two strong channelers, with angreals, linked? Of course it would be enough. Enough to successfully shield her -- especially with the distractions, and the fact they knew more of shielding then she.

For a long moment, after she felt the shield slip in place and hold, despite the fury of the assault upon it, Liranan felt nearly dizzy with relief. She pushed the feeling aside, buried it for later -- right now she had to maintain her part in the link.

The flows split, now binding Marisa in Air. The girl was obviously insane ... so very obviously destroyed ... howling, struggling, seeming almost unaware of what she did ... Liranan's heart seemed full of an overwhelming pity, made stronger, deeper by the intensity of the source as it flowed through her veins.

Oh my dear, Liranan thought, looking at the girl. Oh my dear ... what are we to do with you now?

So much wasted ... not just in this one girl, but in the lives of everyone, across the land, everyone driven away from the light, everyone who's life and talents were taken before their time ... everyone, touched in some way by the Dark, by it's slow hateful taint upon the very Pattern itself.

Suddenly, suddenly she felt so very tired. Saidar seemed very far away, reluctantly, she let it go. The girl had said something ... one word ... "no?" A denial of being captured? The Amyrlin was maintaining the shields and Bonds by herself, now. Liranan Took a deep breath, closing her eyes. They opened, returning to Marisa's face, a moment before the girl looked up.

Looked up with SANE eyes. Eyes full of a world of pain, and sorrow, yes, but wholly sane, completely and truly sane for the first time ever. Clear of what had been dragged behind her for so long.

Liranan felt and impossible hope well up in her heart. With the girl's words, it seemed to soar, lifting her free of the terrible guilt she'd felt earlier.

"Liranan Sedai...I'm sorry," she said. And then wept.

Without conscious thought Liranan found herself kneeling beside the girl, and, the bounds now gone, gathering Marisa in her arms. She held Marisa as she wept, soothing, murmuring over and over that it would be all right. It might not truly be all right ... but she could hope. Hope that she would still hold her position after this. Hope that no one had been seriously injured. Hope no one had died. Hope this was truly over, they could truly move on.

And as she hoped, Liranan caught the Amyrlin's eyes, wordlessly flicking her gaze to the assorted "help" that had somehow worked itself into this mess. She embraced Saidar once more, and took over the shield herself -- suspecting it wasn't necessary, but not knowing. With another wordless look, Liranan suggested the Amyrlin might want to attend to the "help" -- especially the Accepted and Novice -- while Liranan dealt with Marisa.

Which, she figured, would be more then hard enough itself. There was a phrase, she thought, something she'd heard long ago. "The difficult we do immediately. The impossible may take a little longer......."*

Where, Liranan thought, still holding Marisa, where is a Ta'veren when you need one?