Shining Threads

Signed, Sealed And Delivered
Wed Nov 17, 2004 6:30pm

OOC: Credits first.
-in Only Sleeping , the song is Into The West , by Annie Lennox.
-in Come Prepared To Die , the song is Ash And Smoke , from Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King .
- in Arms Of The Angel , the song is Don't Let Go , from Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King .
- in Death Will Break It , the song is The Black Gate Opens , from Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King .
- in Requiem To Insanity , the song is Time , by Sarah McLachlan. The first quote was said by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the second comes from The Princess Bride .
- in Amor Vincet , the quote is from Virgil.

Studying is boring, Fionn complained, kicking her heels against the desk. Amadeus lifted a book from the pile, flipped it open, and frowned. Signe put one hand over her left ear, nearest to her sister, in hopes of quietening her. It didn't work; Fionn swiped at her hand as Amadeus tossed the book over the other side of the room. There was a crash. Signe cringed. If only the ghosts would learn to be quiet! She was quite sure they were trying to get her in trouble on purpose. Aes Sedai patrolled the hallways – not as often as they checked on the Novices, certainly, but they did still come past. Throwing books was not an acceptable method of entertainment.

“Amadeus, stop it,” she hissed. The ghost glanced at her, impudently picking up another book. Signe sighed and braced herself. Thump. The book hit the wall and rebounded onto her bed. Fionn continued kicking the desk. How anyone was supposed to be able to study in an environment like this Signe simply couldn't tell. If only her teachers knew how hard it was for her to concentrate, they'd be amazed at how much she had learnt. It had taken her years, of course, but still...she had done her best, always, despite the ghosts.

There were eyes watching her, and it wasn't just the ghosts. Signe looked up, her strange smile appearing when she saw it was Madeline Sedai. Had she been overheard? The Mistress of Novices would remember Amadeus; she seemed to remember every Novice that arrived in the Tower, and Amadeus' death had not been one to easily forget. If she had heard Amadeus' name, she would know for certain what was going on. But the Green sister's face betrayed no surprise, no overt curiousity. Her words were simple – and unexpected.

Aes Sedai? the ghosts shrieked in unison. Reeling, Signe nodded, finding her feet with difficulty. Fionn slipped off the desk to support her, Amadeus leaping to her other side. Their arms locked through hers, holding her upright through sheer force. Madeline Sedai had turned away; she could not see Signe drooping like a puppet between her ghosts. If she turned back now, would the testing be revoked? Signe trembled, drawing deep on reserves of strength to propel her along. On other side of her, the ghosts chattered.

You'll choose Red, Fionn instructed. Amadeus snarled, and tried to swipe at the former Aethan'Tar. Fionn ducked out of the way, making Signe stumble.

Don't listen to her. You'll choose – well, it doesn't matter what you choose, as long as you swear to the Black, Signe, you have to do what I was meant to. Amadeus was persistent, his fingers tightening around her arm. Signe cringed away. She couldn't do what both of them wanted, and she couldn't choose to obey just one. Thinking she had plenty of time to decide, she'd only managed to narrow the Ajahs down to two – Yellow, so she could study madness and one day cure herself, and Brown, for much the same reason. The ghosts did not approve.

Red, Fionn growled.

Black. Grey and Black, Signe, Amadeus yelled.

“Attend.” Madeline's voice filled the room.

I: Only Sleeping
Wed Nov 17, 2004 6:31pm

Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
The night is falling
You have come to journey's end

She was – well, frightened, although Signe didn't like thinking that anything could scare her. Look at all she had endured, after all; look at the darkness in her past. How could someone who had survived all of that be scared? And yet she was. Even so many years later, the memories of her raising to Accepted haunted her, some in a much more real sense than others. Fionn and Amadeus stood one on either side of her, both perfectly still, fascinated by the glow of saidar . Although in life one had been unable to channel and the other was male, it seemed they now saw through Signe's eyes. Unlike her, they had no fear. What, after all, could harm a ghost?

The Accepted squared her shoulders, drawing herself up pridefully, ignoring the gazes of the massed Aes Sedai. Beside her, her twin spirits grinned. They had taught her to think nothing of Aes Sedai, and any gesture of defiance pleased them. Their ghostly arms linked through Signe's, as cool and insubstantial as the breeze. Signe looked from Fionn's brilliant blue gaze to the cheeky grin adorning Amadeus' face, smiled, and stepped into the light.

It captured her, overwhelmed her, tearing her arms loose from the two ghosts. It burned, froze, destroyed everything in its path. Signe opened her mouth to scream her rage, and found her voice ripped away. The world was gone, unreachable, until she focussed her will and drew everything back together…the same, but somehow…different…

Signe opened her eyes. A strange dream that had been, for certain; it had been years since she had dreamed of being Accepted again, and of the raising that had brought her here. It was amazing how much the mind could recall, when it came to it. The feeling of cool stone under her feet, the strange stares of the Aes Sedai, all were as clear in her mind as if they'd only just happened. But of course they had not, for if they had she would not be here, with Fionn and Amadeus crouched at the foot of her bed, blue and green eyes fixed on her. Signe looked grumpily at them, then pulled her pillow over her head.

It didn't dissuade them; she'd known it wouldn't. The ghosts never left her alone. Now they were even in her dreams. Once Signe had told them that they would drive her insane, and then remembered that she was talking to a pair of dead people. She had laughed until she wept, until Vincet was asking if she wanted him to find a Yellow. Without Vincet, she really would be insane. He'd already asked her to Bond him, so that he might defend her better against the spirits that haunted her. Signe had refused. He was her only link to the real world; what would she do if he went mad too?

Fionn pulled the pillow off her head, and Signe batted irritably at her. Her movements had woken the young Blue brother, and now he stretched and yawned. His dark hair was still rumpled, his eyes heavy with sleep. Signe smiled at him. It was moments like this that she loved him most, when he seemed so defenceless. He trusted her just as she trusted him. They both knew they would sacrifice their lives for each other, if it came to that. It had been that way for years now, their bond growing stronger with each day they were together.

“Which one was it this time?” Vincet asked sleepily. Ignoring Amadeus' catcalls, Signe propped herself up on one elbow and leaned over to smooth his hair out of his eyes. Her lover caught her hand and brought it down to his mouth, kissing each of her fingers before placing her hand on his chest. Signe smiled at him again, flexing her fingers as she felt the solid beating of his heart. Light, how I love him.

“Fionn,” she said in answer. “They're waiting for me to get up.” Since Vincet couldn't see the ghosts, Signe gestured towards the end of the bed. Amadeus had sprawled himself across it, forcing Fionn off, and Fionn was leaping up to pummel him with her insubstantial fists. She could do him no damage now, although she certainly had done damage when they were both alive. Rather than put up with the hisses and yowls that always accompanied the ghosts' tussles, Signe sighed and disentangled herself from the sheets and Vincet's arms. “We really need to get that ter'angreal working,” she said wearily.

The twin ghosts had stopped fighting as soon as she made the first move to get up, and now both perched on the bed. Their eyes glittered, fixed on Signe as she found a clean dress and splashed water on her face. They both ignored Vincet, as always. They hated him for being alive and real and Signe's lover, but at least they couldn't touch him. If they could touch anyone except Signe, Vincet would have been dead long ago.

“They always interrupt,” Vincet said lazily. “Tell them that as soon as they become solid enough for me to see, they're both going to regret it.” Signe, glancing at the ghosts, tried not to laugh at the expressions on their faces. First one, then the other, looked from Signe to Vincet and then settled down like cats who'd just had a bucket of water thrown on them. They could hear everything Vincet said; from what the two Aes Sedai had gathered, Fionn and Amadeus could sense anything Signe did. It gave them a lot of advantages, and was the reason Signe didn't want them to have any chance of contact with Vincet's mind. Light only knew what havoc they could wreak if they could get to him.

She settled for saying, “I'm sure they already know.” Vincet grinned at her and patted the bed invitingly. It was tempting to just ignore the ghosts and creep back into her lover's arms, but she couldn't afford to. Nor could Vincet, for that matter; he knew perfectly well that they both needed to continue their work on the ter'angreal that was designed to drive the ghosts away. It was something similar to that of the Arches every Accepted had to go through. The theory was that since the Arches had brought the ghosts, the Arches might well take them away again. Only trial and error would tell them if they were right.

It was near done. Any day now, Signe knew she'd have to find the strength to walk into an untested ter'angreal , not knowing whether it would do what it was supposed to or even if it would work in the first place. Experiments with the angreal and ter'angreal in the depths of the White Tower had been curtailed after too many Aes Sedai vanished into nowhere. The problem was, of course, that there was no other way to do this. She could not spend her life haunted by her sister and a Darkfriend. Even death would be better than that. And since that was the choice she was facing, Signe saw no harm in trying. It might work. The Creator might smile on them.

“C'mon, Vinnie,” she said softly. “Time to be up and about. The ghosts are right. We've got work to do.” Her lover's smile faded, and he nodded. Fionn and Amadeus were silent as Vincet, too, extricated himself from their bed and stretched, mentally preparing himself for the day. It was draining, frightening work – but it had to be done, or Signe would never be free.

II: Come Prepared To Die
Wed Nov 17, 2004 6:32pm

Come armed,
or prepared to die.
There is no other end to this road.

The first thing that caught the eye on entering the chamber they'd been working in was the ter'angreal . Taller even than an Ogier, it shaped a huge circle in the air. For some reason the circle seemed to be the best way to make it, although neither Signe nor Vincet could understand why. There was no explanation; it just had to be a circle. They'd been dubious at first, but channelers were often taught that they would use their own abilities best just by trusting their instincts. So it was a circle, supported by flows of Air and Earth wound around its base, towering above the Aes Sedai as they worked to complete it. Signe knelt beside the huge arc, one hand resting against it. She had always channelled better when she was able to touch what she was working on.

Flows of space in her weaves were not just empty air, she knew, but the complementary weaves that Vincet spun to help her. They had built this thing together, using the skill of ter'angreal making that had come by chance to both of them, creating the entire arc out of nothing. In the beginning it had not been at all impressive; it had started as a few threads of Air and Earth, Spirit twined through them giving it the appearance of brittle candy. Patience and work had given it form, every element wound into the bones of the structure and keyed to respond to just the right type of channelling. Such a powerful device could not be managed by one Aes Sedai alone. Signe planned to help channel it open, and then use her power to hold it open once she was in.

They had been working for hours, now, although the time had sped past. That was the strange thing about this ter'angreal ; it seemed almost to suck time into itself. Signe blinked tiredly at her creation, and laid the final thread of Spirit down with unbelievable care. It seemed almost an anticlimax after those weeks and weeks of work. The ter'angreal shimmered, solidifying as she watched. Vincet's hand settled on her shoulder, steadying her as the weaves tightened together. Signe covered his hand with her own, using it to draw herself upwards. He was no doubt as exhausted as she was, but he didn't falter. She had always liked that about him.

“You need to sleep, Signe,” he said quietly. Signe nodded, leaning back against her partner's broad chest. His cheek rested against her head, and she could feel his weariness everywhere her body touched his. They were both trembling, but weakly, as if lacking the energy for anything strong. Week after week, month after month of trying and failing had taken much of their strength away. And now that it was done at last, Signe almost wished they were still trying. Soon she would have to trust her life to their expertise, and walk through the gateway. She sighed softly, turning to face Vincet.

“We'll do it tomorrow,” she told him. Vincet stared at her, his Aes Sedai mask destroyed by surprise. Behind him, the ghosts squalled their disapproval, hissing like cats at the ter'angreal . Signe ignored them, keeping her eyes on Vincet's face.

“But Signe – ” he started. Signe shook her head firmly.

“Tomorrow, love.” It was an edict. The Blue brother sighed, but nodded. She stretched up to kiss him, his arms folding comfortably around her back, holding her safe. If only he could hold her just like this tomorrow, when the final test would come – but no one could help her with this last battle. She would have to fight it within her own mind, and she would have to win. Otherwise, the ghosts would destroy her.

III: Arms Of The Angel
Wed Nov 17, 2004 6:33pm

You want nothing more
Than this death.
I see it in your eye.
But I cannot let you
We have come too far
We have held on too long.
Reach! You cannot let go,
You cannot leave me.

“You can't leave me like this.”

They had been arguing for hours, and Signe was tired of it. So too was Vincet; she knew it, just as she knew him. He wanted her to bond him, so that when she disappeared into the ter'angreal he would at least know if she lived or died. Signe had refused, and planned to keep on refusing until he got the message. It wasn't safe. The ghosts would destroy him as soon as they had a way to. She would not provide them with that passage from her mind to his, knowing what it would do to him. If she didn't come back, they would blame him – they already did. He had taken part of her from them, and they hated him more than anything else in their non-lives.

“Vincet, please just let me do this,” she said quietly. The Blue brother stared at her, his expression one of helplessness. The ghosts seemed uncertain whether they should be cheering or screeching their indignity. Hating Vincet, they couldn't bear to side with him, but on the other hand they didn't want Signe to set them loose. Fionn spat at the ter'angreal , blue eyes dark with rage. Amadeus had apparently decided that the Power-wrought creation was an object of death, and wouldn't approach it no matter what. As a result, Signe was sitting as close as she could to it, her back resting against part of the arch. Neither ghost dared approach her, and they could not harm Vincet. For the moment, they were both safe.

“But how will I know?” Vincet sounded despairing. “Signe, love, how will I know whether you're all right? What if my strength fails while you're still alive in there? If I know you're not gone, I could at least summon help. We don't even know how long this will take.” His hand reached out to her, imploring. Signe looked away. She could not afford to give in now. Snarling, Fionn stormed around the chamber, smacking Amadeus as she moved past him. Amadeus growled and slapped back at her. Vincet, unable to see the ghosts, didn't notice as they formed a hissing, slapping ball of rage next to him. “Signe, please,” he tried again.

“Six hours.” She looked up into his clear green eyes. “You can hold it for six hours, can you not? And if it takes me that long, you can assume I am dead. Or if you don't want to give up, call for someone to help you. We can even set a little alarm in the Blue quarters, that goes off six hours from the time it's set. Someone will come as soon as they hear it, and we can be sure they'll hear it. Vincet, you can't help me now. I have to do this alone.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Six hours,” he whispered. “Then I get help.”

“Yes,” Signe agreed. “But now, help me. I swear I'll come back, love.”

The fact that she could say such a thing – she, who could not lie – seemed to convince him. Vincet's face became a mask of concentration for a moment, and Signe too focussed so that she might embrace the Power. Vincet would need to take control of their link; before long, she felt him take hold through her. Saidar flooded her veins, and together they drew the necessary elements to their grasp. Spirit, mostly, and a great deal of it, with touches of Water and Fire for balance. Signe watched the elements spiral out towards the ter'angreal , her own weavings complemented and equalised by Vincet's channeling of saidin .

The giant ter'angreal lit up, glowing like a million fireflies, deadening the light of their lamps. Awed, Signe stared at it, one hand shielding her eyes from the worst of the glare. The ghosts shrilled fiercely somewhere behind her, presumably ducking for cover or howling in rage. Her heart pounded against her chest as if it wanted to dive into the arch without her, flying towards her last hope. She smiled.

“Vincet, I love you,” she said softly, and stepped forward into the light.

“Signe, wait – ”

IV: Death Will Break It
Wed Nov 17, 2004 6:37pm

Lie down, sleep.
I cannot yield.
Why do you still hope?
I have nothing else.
You are a fool.
I will not leave him.
You owe him nothing.
I gave him my word.
Death will break it.

Then let death break it. He has the last of my heart. I will go with him to the end.

”This test will be for what was, what is, and what will be.”

The voice filled her mind, solemn as the beat of a heavy drum, unstoppable as the thunder. Signe shook with its strength, feeling her own will being stripped away. It was the Arches all over again, only worse. Light, the ter'angreal is warped. If she was right, would she ever be able to get out?

“For what could have been,” the voice continued, each word like the beat of Signe's own heart. “For what should have been. For what never came, and for what will now never pass.”

The Pattern opened up before her, countless threads weaving a million different lives. As Signe stared, they grew closer, drawing her inwards, into the –

flicker

“Signe, wait,” he called, reaching out for her. Signe tried not to listen; they both knew this was her only hope. The ghosts would never leave her alone, and even an untested ter'angreal was better than the existence she had now. Light washed over her, drums pounded deep within her ears, and for a moment she could have sworn she heard her own voice raised in song. Blinded, she reached out, feeling nothing anywhere around here. Was she floating, or falling? The light vanished, fireworks exploding across her vision as darkness took control. When she opened her mouth to cry out, the sound vanished as if it had never been made. Silent, terrified, Signe spiralled into the darkness.

flicker

“I had started to think you'd never ask.” The Aes Sedai's voice was soft but warm, and the smile that spread over his face as he looked down at Signe was heartfelt. She smiled back, one hand still toying with stray strands of dark hair. Vincet held her securely, gentle but confident. That was what she liked about him; that was why she'd just asked him to be her Warder. This man was the one she trusted most in all the world, and she did not want to risk ever losing him. He was far too special for that.

“Well, I've asked now,” she pointed out. “Will you be my Warder, Vincet?” His smile and half-nod was all the answer she needed; in a way, she had not even needed to ask. Her friend's hands cupped her face as she concentrated, drawing saidar into herself to begin the complex weave that would tie them together for all time. Spirit formed the backbone of the weaving, with the other elements winding through and around it. Vincet blinked as it enveloped him, his eyes widening.

flicker

They had asked her to watch, to witness it – not because a witness was needed, but because she was, perhaps, their closest friend. Signe could not have refused even if she had wanted to. Seeing her two closest companions happy, even if she could not share that joy, was all she could ask for. With the twin ghosts still haunting her, she could not dare to ask another to share her mind. For all she knew the madness was contagious. The scent of roses stung her mind as Vincet held out his hands, and Garnet's fingers wound through his.

“By my hope of salvation and rebirth under the Light, I promise to protect you and guard you,” Garnet's barely-whispered words came, soft as the petals that fell every time the wind blew again. Signe watched as Vincet's cheeks turned warm pink, his hands caressing the Gaidar's, and Garnet bit her lip and smiled.

flicker

“I will be your Warder, Signe,” the young Gaidar said. “Light, did you really think you had to ask?” Her beautiful face was alight with joy. Signe, smiling, shook her head. She had known she would not need to doubt the answer, but it was only courteous to make sure Garnet agreed. They had been friends for so long, and now that Vincet was gone it suddenly seemed vital to keep Garnet in her life. It only made sense for the Gaidar to become her Warder. They both knew Garnet would be perfect.

Signe reached out, her hands settling gently on Garnet's head. Her fingers slid through the Gaidar's curly hair, clenching as she concentrated and channeled. Elements flew to her grasp as if they too were eager to have this done. Strand by careful strand, the weave came into place, and Garnet's blue eyes captured Signe's gaze as the Bond opened like a bubble in both their minds –

flicker

They had waited too long for this moment. Years of training, years of working together and consoling each other, and at last the dream the twins had conjured up was coming true. How long? Years. They had been only fourteen when they arrived, only children. Fionn had not known what she was getting herself into when she refused to let Signe leave without her. When she found out, though, she had not flinched. Neither of them had. They had worked so hard for this moment.

Now Signe's twin, the only person in the world she trusted with her life, stood before her. Their hands were clasped between them, folded together so that none could tell which belonged to Signe and which to Fionn. That was how it had always been; that was how it was meant to be. One child in two bodies; Fionn and Signe. Her forehead rested against her twin's, the Bond growing until it seemed as if they shared even their thoughts. “Love you,” Fionn whispered.

flicker

“Signe, save me!” She was too late. A solid block of Air – at least, she supposed it was Air, for since it was saidin she couldn't see it – held Fionn in place, and Amadeus' hand was fastened securely in her sister's hair. His eyes were closed in concentration as Fionn tried to struggle. Signe reached for saidar , knowing already that she would be too late. She should have taken Amadeus' threats seriously, not just laughed them away. He knew how best to hurt her sister, and knew that that would hurt Signe herself. She had not done what he wanted, and now –

Fionn screamed her rage and pain as the weave, whatever it was, caught, and Amadeus' eyes opened again. He saw Signe and grinned. “Oh, come now, killing weaves?” the Darkfriend said calmly. “Surely you know that now if I die, she does too?” Signe's eyes flickered to her sister, who – suddenly released from her bonds of Air – had slumped to the floor, holding her head. Amadeus laughed. “She's my Warder, Signe,” he said spitefully. “She'll do whatever I want, and I'll never give her up.”

flicker

It was hard to watch, harder than anything she'd ever done before. Well, almost anything; it had been harder still to give her permission. They had not needed it, of course, but...they had asked. She could not refuse them. They were so happy together, happier than she could ever have made either of them. Her one true love and her best friend...no, she could not be selfish enough to place herself between them and keep them apart. Signe stood, her head bowed, and watched as Vincet's hand reached out to take Amadeus'.

Though she could not see the weavings of saidin , she knew what must be happening. Amadeus knelt, his face coming into Signe's field of vision. The young Aes Sedai seemed to glow with his joy. Signe risked a glance up at Vincet, who was smiling down at Amadeus with equal delight. She wanted to weep. How had it come to this?

flicker

“Signe, come with me.” He took her hand, and she followed, surprised but willing. Vincet's face turned back to her for a moment, a smile almost making its way to his lips before his features became indistinct in the darkness of the alcove he had chosen. His other hand clasped hers, the first hand reaching up to her cheek. Before she had time to think, he had leaned in and his lips touched hers.

Without conscious thought her eyes had shut, her concentration focussed on her mouth. Vincet's tongue traced a path along her bottom lip, and Signe found her lips parting in response. No one had ever kissed her like this before – no, no one had ever even kissed her before – and she knew she could not be doing it right. But if that were so, Vincet did not seem to mind. Signe's arms slid around his neck, pressing their bodies closer together, as she allowed herself to relax and –

flicker

A silver arch towered over her, taller than an Ogier. Signe blinked, her hands going to her face. She could still taste Vincet's mouth, still feel his arms around her. But he was gone, and once again she was alone. Not for long, she vowed. Not for long. I will return to you, Vincet, my love. He could not be far now – just the other side of the ter'angreal . A single step away.

She stepped through.

V: Requiem To Insanity
Thu Nov 18, 2004 3:44pm

Time here all but means nothing,
Just shadows that move across the wall...

Darkness, and silence. The world and everything in it was gone, lost forever, all except for the thin strand of saidar that Signe clung to. Letting it go would mean the end, the true end; she knew that instinctively, deep inside her body. Reaching out a hand, she felt nothing. She could see nothing; either there was no light, or she was blind. There must be air, or she could not breathe, but it had no scent. The only thing anywhere in existence was the sound of her own heart beating, and her quiet ragged breathing.

Footsteps broke the silence. Signe spun round so she faced the direction they were coming from, only to find that they'd moved. Once again, the walker in the darkness was behind her. She turned again, and again, unable to turn so that the footsteps came from in front of her. Shaking with fear, the Andoran woman stood in silence as they approached her. Her hands clenched in front of her chest, shoulders taut with terror. Somehow she needed to find out what was happening, even though she had almost nothing to work with. Think. Concentrate. You must survive this. Vincet waits.

Yes. Vincet. The mere thought of his name steeled her determination. Signe took a deep breath, controlling her fear. Whoever, whatever, was here, she could deal with it. Vincet would expect her to be able to do this, therefore she could. “Who are you?” she called. “Speak to me. Who are you, and why are you here?”

“Signe,” Amadeus drawled, pulling her name out like toffee. “Forgotten me so soon?”

“I pay no attention whatever to anybody's praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings.”

You see love—
A tight, thorny thread that you spin in a circle of gold
To have me, to hold me
A token for all to see
Captured to be yours alone

So close. He was so close that he drew her, like a magnet, towards his embrace. Signe stepped backwards, unwilling to let him touch her. Her body craved his presence, as though she had not been near him for...years. And of course she hadn't been near him for years. He had been dead for years.

There was light – she had only just noticed it. Like the glow of a paper lantern, it curved off into the darkness around her. There was only light enough to see Amadeus, nothing more. But how could she mind? It was him that she wanted to see. Amadeus smiled, his grin as wide and cheeky as she remembered. He was solid and strong, not the ghost that he had been before. Auburn curls fell forward over his forehead, tickling his ears. Those perfect green eyes she had been lost in so many times before sparkled, tempting her closer. “Amadeus?” Signe whispered. “I thought you were dead.”

“Oh, Signe, love.” His voice enveloped her, warm and soft. How long had she needed to hear this voice again? Too long. “I'm not dead,” Amadeus murmured to her. “Why would I be dead?” He held out his arms, and she fled gratefully into them, safe at last. Why had she thought he was dead? No one would kill Amadeus. A memory tugged on her mind, but faded as soon as she tried to pay attention to it. Signe smiled beatifically, cuddling close to her lover. He held her tightly, almost too tightly, planting gentle kisses on her head. This was how it was supposed to be, she was sure of it. Amadeus was here, and her world was complete.

Still, something seemed wrong. She could remember something; it niggled her, tormenting. Signe frowned as Amadeus' arms tightened around her again. “No, wait,” she said, spreading her palms on his chest to push him away. “Amadeus...” There was no good way to say it. “Amadeus, I'm sure you died. I...” It was as though it was a dream, but she remembered it. Fionn had stabbed him; she had seen his blood pooling on the white marble, staining his clothes crimson. Perhaps it had been a dream – but she remembered life without him, years and years with nothing but memories. He had been gone.

“Signe?” His voice was changed somehow, modulated. Signe stepped backwards, wary. Amadeus, alive, was almost too good to be true, especially when she could remember his death. Those green eyes drew her in whenever she looked into them; she could not look. Better to remember Fionn's blue eyes, and that look of horror when she realized that she had killed Amadeus. The Accepted – was she Accepted? She couldn't tell, any more – shook her head.

“Amadeus, you're dead,” she told him. The boy – the ghost – stared at her, disbelieving. He held out a hand, his fingers becoming translucent even as she watched. “I don't need you any more. Fionn killed you.”

Amadeus shook his head, auburn curls flying, fading. “Signe...” his voice trailed away, like the cry of the wind. She waited – always, before, he had come back – but there was only the silence, once again, and the darkness covered her like velvet.

“Death cannot stop true love. It can only delay it for a while.”

I need just a little more silence,
I just need a little more time,
The courage to pull away—
There will be hell to pay
The deeper you cut to the bone.

Her shadow stretched out in front of her, cast by a light somewhere behind her. Signe turned, dazzled, holding a hand up in front of her eyes. It seemed to be sunshine, dappled through leaves – but there were no leaves in this place – that whispered above a stream. Water splashed against pebbles, swirled in little pools. She recognized this place, from long ago and far away, and smiled. Another memory, one she had not thought to experience again.

“Signe,” Fionn called. The younger twin looked up to find her sister swinging upside-down from a tree branch, hands reaching towards the ground. Her smile was bright, eyes shining with mischief. Fionn, just as she had always been, not the vengeful ghost that had waited so long. “Signe, come join me.”

The water gurgled invitingly, birds chirped in the trees. Signe watched, longing for the days when she could just run outside and see this very scene whenever she liked. It had been so long ago, she could hardly remember being young and free and able to do whatever she liked without the eyes of an Aes Sedai or the torment of a ghost. Ghost, she told herself. This is not real. The Arches had tried to tempt her with this, too, and she had walked away. It had not been real – but Fionn had died in the Arches, and when Signe came out Fionn was dead in the real world. Or at least dead in what passed for the real world – she was becoming confused now.

“Play with me, Signe,” her twin cajoled. “C'mon, I built us a cubby, just for us. The others will never find it!” She was six again, blonde hair braided into two plaits, one unravelling across her shoulder. Signe tugged at her dress, longing to go, to be as brave as Fionn was. A cubbyhouse, her six year old mind thought, before the older memory cut in. You never saw the cubbyhouse, you aren't meant to. This isn't real.

“...isn't real,” she murmured. “This isn't real, Fionn.”

Isn't real, Fionn...

isn't real

...isn't real...

The world was gone; she was falling forwards into infinity, and the Pattern opened up to catch her.

Amor Vincet
Thu Nov 18, 2004 7:05pm

Omnia vincet amor.
Love conquers all.

“It is done.”

Reeling, Signe pushed herself to her feet. Vincet? There was no Vincet. Aes Sedai everywhere, but not the only Aes Sedai she wanted to see, not her beloved Vinnie. And where had her clothes gone? “Mrr?” she said weakly, surprised. This did not seem to be the chamber she'd started out from. Her ter'angreal was gone, replaced by one that was similar but different. She'd seen it only once in her life – at least, she thought she'd seen it, but the memory told her that had been a long time ago, and surely she'd seen it only this morning? Signe opened her mouth, then shut it again as Madeline Sedai clapped her hands.

“Let no one ever speak of what has passed here. It is for us to share in silence with she who experienced it. It is done.” Another clap. Signe's eyes narrowed. A half-forgotten, nearly lost memory was calling for her attention, but she wasn't sure she could take her mind off this – this whatever it was – long enough to work out what she needed to remember. “Signe Rose al'Tammas, you will spend tonight in prayer and contemplation of the burdens you will take up on the morrow, when you don the shawl of an Aes Sedai. It is done.” Madeline clapped her hands a third and final time, and swept gracefully away. Signe stared after her. But I'm already Aes Sedai, aren't I? She could remember feeling the shawl around her shoulders – she could remember her delight when Vincet chose the Blue, her Ajah. What was this, yet another dream world?

“Signe, do you need Healing?” A Yellow had moved close without Signe noticing. Fighting back the impulse to yelp, she shook her head firmly. Her ter'angreal had not harmed her. Where had all these people come from, and why hadn't Vincet told them what happened? Other Aes Sedai were circling around her, leaving only one path open. Confused and dazed, Signe walked between them, trailing through the White Tower's halls back towards a room that she vaguely remembered being hers. Once they had gone, she sat gingerly on the bed. It was an Accepted's room; she must, therefore, be Accepted in this world. How strange.

It was then that she realized neither Fionn nor Amadeus had spoken since she fell from the ter'angreal . Nor were they in the room; she could not see them, hear them, sense their presence. Signe looked around, surprised. She had not been alone for so very long. Now, when she gazed at something, there was no one telling her not to be boring, not to look there, not to pay attention to boring things. The ghosts did not stand in her way, trying to make her watch them. They were...gone.

“Fionn?” she tried, half-expecting the blonde girl to pop out of hiding. “Amadeus?” The room, almost empty, echoed her voice for a moment. No ghosts appeared. Signe stood up, turning slowly around. Before, she had not had time to notice how little was here. It was as though she were a ghost herself. Cobwebs hung in the corners, and dust coated every surface but the desk. When she brushed a finger along the bedside table, it came away grey. Books were piled everywhere, some dusty and others still open. The Aes Sedai had let this go, it seemed, thinking it unimportant. Or maybe she hadn't let them in to look.

She settled back on the bed, pulling the blankets around herself. It seemed this night was for thinking, and for discovering what she might be. The Blue Ajah, which had seemed so perfect while she walked in the ter'angreal , no longer appealed. “Vincet,” Signe murmured. “I need Vincet.” But she could not have Vincet; she was to be left alone. Her bottom lip quivered for a moment, before the hard-learned serenity won out again. Aes Sedai did not cry. And she was Aes Sedai now, was she not?

Perhaps they expected to wake her; when the door opened upon seven ageless faces, Signe looked up and smiled her weird smile. None said a word, simply forming a circle around Signe as she moved out of her room and back down through the winding tunnels. The floors were cold under her feet, but she did not flinch. Still the ghosts were silent, or no longer there. The longer they stayed quiet, the more she began to think that the ter'angreal had truly worked. Together she and Vincet had brought her life back.

They stopped, unexpectedly. Half-dreaming, Signe had barely noticed the long journey. Her feet stilled, a pace ahead of where she should have been. One Aes Sedai spoke, her voice clear and loud.

“Who comes here?”

“Signe Rose al'Tammas,” Signe said, proudly, and alone. The ghosts would always have spoken up, then, but they were still silent, still gone. I really am free.

“For what reason do you come?”

“To swear the Three Oaths and thereby claim the shawl of an Aes Sedai.”

“By what right do you claim this burden?”

“By right of having made the passage, submitting myself to the will of the White Tower.”

“Then enter, if you dare, and bind yourself to the White Tower.”

She dared. Signe strode in, head held high, blue eyes daring anyone to comment. The Aes Sedai remained silent – though of course they would anyway; it was not their place to speak yet. Hesper stood beside the giant ter'angreal , Avaiya on the other side, with Aes Sedai along each wall. Signe walked straight up to the Amyrlin and knelt, hands held out for the Oath Rod. It was heavier than she had expected, and more beautiful. Saidar lit Hesper's body, twisting into the rod in Signe's hands. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly.

“Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow that I will speak no word that is not true.” It seemed that it was not only her voice that said it; there was another, an undercurrent, whispering the words along with her. Her skin crawled, her ribs tightened. Signe grimaced. “Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow that I will make no weapon for one man to kill another.” The pain intensified, almost unbearable. Her teeth clenched together and eyes slid shut for a moment before she regained control. The voice was whispering the words again, prompting, persuasive. “Under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth, I vow that I will never use the One Power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme of defending my life or that of my Warder or another Aes Sedai.”

“It is half done,” Hesper said softly, “and the White Tower is graven on your bones. Rise now, Aes Sedai, and choose your Ajah, and all will be done that may be done under the Light.”

Signe stood. She had thought long and hard, and the choice had become narrower and narrower until there was no choice at all. “I choose the Yellow Ajah,” she said calmly, “if they will have me.”

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