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GRAND FINALE NOTE: Before reading this, you might want to examine http://www.tor.com/sampleLordofChaos.html, specifically the first scene of the LOC Prologue, to refresh your memory of the charming environment in and around Shayol Ghul. [Ishamael has called in his trusted lieutenant, Shaidar Haran, to discuss things with him.] ISHAMAEL: You know, Shaidar, I think all this paperwork and interviewing is starting to get me. I feel like I haven't slept in weeks! SHAIDAR: But Boss, you've BEEN asleep the whole time! This is all happening in Tel'Aran'Rhiod, remember? ISHAMAEL: Huh? I mean, of course I remember that! What do you think I am, crazy? But cooped up in this boring old office - it's just not for me. I gotta go outside and see of the lovely scenery I remember from the waking world. SHAIDAR: You mean, like the majestic peaks of the Spine of the World . . . or the Isles of the Sea Folk, so far south that they're always green because it never snows down yonder . . . or maybe the fabled flower gardens of the Royal Palace in Shara? ISHAMAEL: No, Shaidar, I mean something really INSPIRING! Like - - like - - like the outside of Shayol Ghul! The jagged black slopes, the rolling sea of grey clouds overhead, the flashes of lightning and the swirling of steam, the constant chill of the air . . . ah, that's the stuff! There's no place like home! SHAIDAR: If you say so, boss. I prefer a warmer climate myself . . . ISHAMAEL: Let's just take a look! [They both disappear from the office as Ishamael Wills them to reappear out near the T'A'R equivalent of the forge where Myrddraal Blades are made.] ISHAMAEL: Isn't it majestic? The whole place has ‘ominous' and ‘brooding' and ‘macabre' written all over it! If only Edgar Allan Poe were here to describe the place in a way that would do it justice! SHAIDAR: I could go get him for you . . . ISHAMAEL: Never mind. He's dead, and his reborn soul probably went into some more relaxing line of work this time around than drug-addicted poet. It was before your time . . . SHAIDAR [it's used to this kind of raving from the Big Guy]: Whatever you say, Boss. ISHAMAEL: Wait! Who's that? [Not far away, a hooded figure has suddenly appeared, gazing at the sights of Shayol Ghul with a stance which suggests detached interest, rather than fear or admiration] ISHAMAEL: YOU THERE! HALT! FIGURE [turning around slowly]: Were you addressing me, young man? [Calm female voice] ISHAMAEL [distracted by the question]: Young? Do I really still look that young? Haven't had time to worry about it lately, these past three millennia or so. I was afraid the rigors of my position might have taken their toll! FIGURE: You don't look a day over 800 years, tops! ISHAMAEL [glancing away, embarrassed]: Oh, you flatterer! SHAIDAR [rolls its nonexistent eyes, and clears its throat, hoping to remind Ishy of what he was originally doing in this conversation]: A-HEM! ISHAMAEL [sympathetically]: Cold air getting to you, Shaidar? Better wrap your throat up with a scarf to protect it before you catch a nasty chill! By the way, Madam, are you one of my Black Ajah servants whom I haven't met yet, come to gaze worshipfully at the site of our Great Lord of the Dark's imprisonment? FIGURE: Black Ajah? My goodness, no! [Does a double take] Light man, are you claiming to be a Dreadlord of some sort? ISHAMAEL [glaring]: Are you out of your mind, woman? Do I look like a common Dreadlord? I am the acting Chief Executive of the Darkfriend Organization, Ba'alzamon! FIGURE: Does that have any connection with Ishamael? A name hidden behind a name, or however it goes? ISHAMAEL [blinking]: How would you know that? FIGURE: Oh, I read bits and pieces in the Tower Library . . . ISHAMAEL [horrified]: You're an AES SEDAI? Here, outside MY Headquarters? [He hastily gestures toward Shaidar, who takes the hint and moves very close to the Figure, nullifying any attempt she makes to channel. She doesn't seem to notice; she's too busy staring at him with frank interest in the rare opportunity to observe Ba'alzamon firsthand] FIGURE [tosses back her hood, revealing the face of Verin Mathwin]: Now that you mention it . . . ISHAMAEL: Why, you're a classic example of the ethnic type most prevalent in the land of . . . er, in the land of . . . don't tell me, I'll get it in just a minute . . . [chews on his lip for a moment] Never mind, I give up! What nation ARE you from? VERIN [vaguely]: I'm really not sure. I don't know if the Creator has even made up his mind who gets the credit for me, yet. ISHAMAEL [waving that aside]: Well, it's been nice talking to you, but you understand I can't just let you go back to your body in the Tower and tell everybody I'm running around loose again? [Verin turns, meaning to leave quickly - yes, I know you don't have to turn around and walk away from something in T'A'R in order to "leave" that spot, but Verin is extremely new at this dreamwalking stuff at this point! - and RECOILS as a lightning blast suddenly shatters rock just to the left of where she is standing, a piece of shrapnel from the explosion tearing a gouge down the length of her forearm.] ISHAMAEL: Not so fast, little Aes Sedai! Just stay right there and nobody will get hurt! Shaidar, go round up what we'll need for the ritual. SHAIDAR: You got it, boss! ISHAMAEL: One question? That doesn't sound so bad. I'll humor you. What is it? VERIN: Did you know your face is on fire? ISHAMAEL [laughs]: What kind of stupid question is that? Don't you think I would notice if I were on fire? [Verin silently reaches into a belt pouch and pulls out a small mirror, which she holds up before Ishy's eyes so he can see for himself]. ISHAMAEL [staring in horror at the fiery pits where he thought his eyes and mouth were still doing business as usual, all this time]: AAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH! [Ishamael frantically slaps his hands against his face, trying to smother the flames. He only manages to scorch his palms as he starts running around in circles screaming] ISHAMAEL: FIRE! Help me, I'm on FIRE! My face! My perfect complection! GET ME SOME WATER, YOU MORONS! Water! I need water! I'M BURNING ALIVE! [Verin quietly tucks the mirror back into a pouch and then reaches down and yanks the T'A'R ring off of her own finger and throws it far away. As she does so, her dream-body fades away while her mind snaps back into its proper position in her body in Tar Valon]. SHAIDAR HARAN: Hang on, boss! Help's a-coming! [It looks around frantically for a bucket, and then remembers this is T'A'R, after all]. Bucket - bucket - ah, here we are! [A bucket materializes in its hand as it concentrates] Water - water - there's some! [It rushes over to a nearby stream and fills the bucket to the brim, then hastily transports itself through shadows toward where Ishy is still clutching his head and moaning]. ISHAMAEL: HELP! WATER! SHAIDAR HARAN: HOLD STILL, BOSS! [It throws the contents of the bucket squarely into Ishy's face]. [Ishamael SCREAMS. It's one of those truly agonizing screams, the kind of scream you might scream as you felt your leg being amputated with a rusty hacksaw without benefit of anesthesia, as you felt your Aes Sedai perish if you're a Warder, as someone forced you to read the latest utterly pointless novel by Jackie Collins or Sidney Sheldon, or even the way you might scream as you got the news that Jordan has just changed his projections AGAIN and currently figures he can't possibly be done with the series until he completes Book 20 around 2013 - and if he dies before that time, he wants Terry Goodkind to finish up the series for him! Okay, maybe it wasn't quite as bad as that last item - how COULD it be? - but the man is definitely in pain!] SHAIDAR HARAN [looking blank]: Hey, what's the big deal! It's only a bucket of . . . [he looks around reflexively at the stream he got it from, does a double take as he realizes which stream that is (specifically, the stream of very dangerous liquid which the forgers use in putting the finishing touches on a Myrddraal blade, in case you were lazy and didn't reexamine the LOC Prologue first, as I warned you to do, but do you ever listen to me? Oh no, I never get any respect!) and finishes weakly] . . . um . . . water? [Ishamael is rolling around on the ground in agony, but seems to be channeling the True Power like mad in an effort to shed every last drop of that "water" which landed in his face before it soaks through his epidermis and causes REAL damage.] ISHAMAEL: That water came from the stream where the Forgers quench the blades they make for Myrddraal, you moron! Do you know what that can DO to a man? SHAIDAR HARAN [thoughtfully]: Actually, no. I mean, my mother always warned me not to play in that stream when I was just a little cub of a Myrddraal, but she wasn't very clear on what would happen if I went and did it anyway. And I don't recall ever seeing anyone exposed to it before . . . [Ishamael finally decides he's done all he can for the moment, and rolls to his feet. If you want to know what his face looks like now, pull out your copy of TDR and look at the spine of the book. Toward the top is a grotesque face with burning pits where eyes and mouth ought to be. The burning pits had been there for ages, but at least now you know how the facial features of the mature, good-looking fellow Rand saw in his dream in TEOTW Chapter 14 came to look - sometimes - like the incredibly UGLY apparition on the TDR cover. And here you always thought Darrell K. Sweet had just made a terrible continuity error [just as a change of pace from his normal behavior, that is]. Aren't you ashamed of yourself for having such nasty thoughts about him? The truth was that he put that ugly face on the TDR cover as a special favor to me, in order to provide a mystery for me to explain in my own due time! And you thought I didn't have any connections with people that matter in the publishing business! But now you know better! I can also offer you a swell deal on the Brooklyn Bridge!] ISHAMAEL: The mere touch of that liquid can be FATAL! SHAIDAR HARAN [rubbing its hands together with glee]: Really? You mean you're on the verge of death even as we speak? Just staying on your feet long enough to deliver some final instructions and words of wisdom to your natural successor as the Acting CEO of the organization (which would be myself, obviously!) before you kick the bucket? I want you to know, boss, that you will receive a first-class funeral and I'll put fresh bones on your grave every single day (after I feed the previous owner of each skeleton to the Trollocs) as a token of my esteem! In fact - ISHAMAEL: That's ENOUGH, Shaidar Haran! I'm going to pull through. After all, this is only Tel'aran'rhiod we're in at the moment, and I managed to recover myself quickly enough that I dissipated the dream-reflection of the water with sheer willpower, before it could do much more than distort my facial features a bit. SHAIDAR HARAN [dubiously]: A BIT? ISHAMAEL: By the way, Shaidar, how long has my face had that, er, fiery look to it? SHAIDAR HARAN: For as long as I've been around to notice, anyway. Er . . . that would be about thirty-eight years . . . and the oldest Myrddraal and Draghkar I knew in my youth told me that it had been that way as long as THEY could remember, and so forth . . . ISHAMAEL: Are you telling me that my eyes and mouth have been on fire for GENERATIONS? SHAIDAR HARAN: Could easily be centuries. ISHAMAEL: Why didn't someone TELL me this before? SHAIDAR HARAN [shrugging helplessly]: We assumed you already knew! Since you never mentioned it, we figured it was none of our business. ISHAMAEL [shaking his head helplessly]: I don't understand how this could happen. I live a clean, wholesome lifestyle - I certainly don't smoke, don't overindulge in alcoholic beverages, get plenty of fiber in my diet, restrain myself in the red meat department, watch my sodium and cholesterol levels, my blood sugar has never given me any cause to worry . . . SHAIDAR HARAN: On the other hand, you are the only living True Power addict in all the world. Could that have something to do with it? ISHAMAEL: ADDICT? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? SHAIDAR HARAN [unfazed]: Boss, when was the last time you went, say, 48 hours without channeling a bit of True Power just for the thrill of it? ISHAMAEL: Er . . . ah . . . let me see . . . [Pulls out a pocket notebook]. Why, I recently went for a good 15 years without channeling it! SHAIDAR HARAN [holding one hand to its forehead with an expression that somehow says, "Great Lord of the Dark, please give me the strength to endure this nonsense."]: I meant, 48 hours of "normal" activity, i.e. when you weren't comatose in the Bore at the time and incapable of channeling ANYTHING! ISHAMAEL: Oh. Well, why didn't you SAY so? Let's see . . . fall of Malkier . . . fall of Kintara . . . War of a Hundred Years . . . [flipping further and further back through his diary] . . . Trolloc Wars . . . oh, here it is! About 3000 years ago, around 400 AB, I could tell I was about to pass out and sleep for another couple of decades in the Bore as the seals tightened their grip on me again, and I went for 49.12593221 hours without channeling the True Power at all! Instead, I was frantically doing all the paperwork to make sure Darkfriends all across the map knew what was expected of them for the next few decades! SHAIDAR: And in the three millennia since that time, you've never again gone 48 hours at a stretch without using the True Power? ISHAMAEL: I suppose not. What's your point? SHAIDAR: It's just that this seems like proof of addiction to me. You may recall that toward the end of the War of Power, the Surgeon-General announced that True Power contained many risky ingredients which could be disturbing to your mental and physical well-being . . . ISHAMAEL: Nonsense! When I channel True Power, I see, taste, hear, touch, feel, THINK more clearly than ever before! And that splash of "water" from the stream the Forgers use to make the Myrddraal swords didn't hurt me ONE BIT, do you hear? Now take dictation! I've got some brilliant new ideas to send out to my Darkfriends! SHAIDAR HARAN [producing pad and paper]: Go ahead, boss . . . ISHAMAEL: This message goes to Paitr and Gode: if you meet a possible ta'veren/male channeler type, do not, repeat do NOT try to kill him! Instead, try to convince him that he has no chance of escaping my net and can only hope to win my mercy by surrendering quickly! SHAIDAR: Got it. Next? ISHAMAEL: Message to Mili Skaine: Find enclosed with this letter a dagger which will fry anything it touches. You are to use it on any possible ta'veren or male channeler with whom you may come in contact in the future. SHAIDAR: Er . . . come again? ISHAMAEL: Am I not enunciating clearly enough for you? SHAIDAR: Er, yes, but - - ISHAMAEL: Quit wasting time and just take notes! After you wake up, write out these letters and post them to the appropriate places! I have a feeling the Dragon will be popping up within another year or two! SHAIDAR: Okay, boss . . . ISHAMAEL: Attention to the Myrddraal who will lead the attack against whatever place it is we end up attacking in force, as soon as we know where the Dragon Reborn is: "Daughter of the Night, she walks again . . ." [Ishamael dictates the entire Dark Prophecy, as it is sometimes called, that ended up on the wall in Fal Dara in TGH] SHAIDAR: Boss, you WANT to tell them that Lanfear is free (once she is), that Luc and Isam were merged together in the Mountains of Dhoom, that - ISHAMAEL [ROARING, and those flames from his eyes and mouth shoot out a record 16 inches this time!]: ARE YOU QUESTIONING THE JUDGMENT OF THE GREAT LORD OF THE DARK? SHAIDAR: What's he got to do with it? ISHAMAEL: I AM BA'ALZAMON, YOU FOOL! AND WHEN THE GREAT LORD OF THE DARK COMMANDS, YOU OBEY! NOT ARGUE! GOT IT? SHAIDAR: Oh, mother . . . he's really flipped this time. [He says it too softly for Ishy to hear. Basically, he just thinks it]. ISHAMAEL [seemingly becoming more normal]: Also, have a couple of Gray Men on permanent standby. As soon as they find out where the Dragon Reborn is, at least one is to sneak into the area and shoot him. Ideally, shoot him when he's standing next to somebody more important, so that nobody will know what the target really was. SHAIDAR: Er . . . right. ISHAMAEL: In case that doesn't work, remind me later to warn him not to overdo it in his channeling. The poor boy might hurt himself! SHAIDAR: Come again? ISHAMAEL: And when he enters the Stone of Tear to get Callandor, if he makes it that far, I want to balefire him right AFTER he grabs the Sword That Is Not A Sword! Got it? SHAIDAR: Isn't it possible that Callandor could protect him from balefire? ISHAMAEL: Not a chance! Nothing is immune to balefire! SHAIDAR: Except Cuendillar? ISHAMAEL: Why are you always distracting the Great Lord of the Dark with trifles? What does cuendillar have to do anything? SHAIDAR: Well, I was just thinking that if at least ONE item is impervious to balefire, then others might also be - ISHAMAEL: You know what I see here, Shaidar? A Negative Mental Attitude! You'll NEVER amount to anything in this organization if you don't learn that a Positive Mental Attitude is the ONLY way to go! Now repeat after me: Today only the first day of the rest of my depraved life! SHAIDAR [resignedly]: Today is the the first day of the rest of my life. ISHAMAEL: There are no failures, only lessons! We have nothing to fear but fear itself! If at first you don't succeed, die, die, again! SHAIDAR: There are no failures, only lessons . . . [THE END.] [NOTES: Believe it or not, I've had a pretty good idea of where things were going to end up since shortly after I started outlining various installments of this series. After all, we all know that Ishy was stark raving mad in the first three books, as shown by his total inability to make a plan for dealing with Rand al'Thor and then STICK TO IT for any length of time. Yet, as I have attempted to show in these posts, I think he had been relatively sane for 3400 years or so prior to that time, at least as a strategist, given all the incredibly STUPID customs he was able to introduce into many different cultures in order to keep mere mortals as clueless as possible. Any villain who managed to run a Black Ajah for over three millennia without the rest of the Aes Sedai ever even admitting that such a thing could exist, much less taking ANY firm action to uncover it and destroy it in all that time (and there were ways to try, if they had ever decided to try), must be a veritable genius at camouflage and subterfuge. By the way, I don't really agree with any of the three sentiments he expressed in his last speech of this post. Self-deception, I call it. On Shaidar Haran: whether or not Shaidar Haran "existed" a couple of years before TEOTW begins is unknown, but I decided to assume he did, because I wanted to use the name of a Myrddraal here, and he's the only one whose name has ever been shared with us. In (TGH: 41, 588, Disagreements, 497), Ba'alzamon (Ishy) said to Rand, "Fool! You will destroy yourself!" in an effort to keep him from burning himself out. Yet at other times, such as the ends of TEOTW and TGH, he seems to have been honestly trying to destroy Rand in single combat, not just intimidate him. On the other hand, he clearly thought he was following a rational strategy :) What happened to him in this post is my best effort to explain how his brain got scrambled so badly :) I have not yet been able to determine the nationality of Verin Mathwin from the books. I am beginning to think Jordan hasn't given her one yet :) This served as the basis for a very small joke.] |