Teln floated inside the Void. He was holding the Power, saidin flowing through him, fire and ice, charring his bones with the taint that would destroy him, sooner or later.

He wondered idly, as he had done many times before, whether he might be mad already. Would he know, even if he was? What would be worse, to be mad, but think yourself sane, or to know that your mind was lost, but be unable to do anything about it, watching as you destroyed those you love.

He thought of his mother, who had raised him well, despite anything. She had been born in Andor, as, she told him, had her mother. She said that no matter what happened, she would never leave there. As far as he knew, she was still there. She was a channeler, like him. Only she would never go mad. She had been the one to convince him to come to the Black Tower, after they learnt that he could channel. Such a small thing to trigger his first touch. He had been hunting, trying to find a special meal for dinner, and he had seen a rabbit, just a simple rabbit, but when he swung his sling shot he wanted more than anything to be able to take that rabbit home. And he had channeled.

She did not fear him, not even then. But, he thought bitterly, she had not encouraged him to stay. That little knot of anger that so often lurked in his stomach flared again, and for the thousandth time he wondered if that was how he would go mad, overcome by rage.

But he felt guilty now, and the anger faded. She had not wanted him to go. But it was as much for his safety as hers. He needed to learn control, she told him. She was one of the lucky ones, who learnt to channel by herself. Most, at least among women, died without proper training. Plus, if anyone had found out what he was, he would have been chased and probably hung at worst, or at least handed over to the Aes Sedai, which would have been a death sentence in itself.

He wondered if he could go back. Would they recognise him? His brown hair was short cropped now, though still wavy. His body, once thin, was now sturdier, if not exactly muscular. He was taller than average, but not an Aiel by any means. No, going back was never an option. He was now a weapon of the Black Tower, and he was bound to it as surely as the mountains were to the ground. No, he could never go back to his old life, the simple life. But as much as he missed it, he wondered, as he floated in the Void, devoid of all emotion and feeling, whether he really wanted to. He channeled, and all thought was lost in the rapture of saidin.