The thought stood out Valadin's mind before the Void cleansed all distraction from concern. A wave of sweltering heat roared enveloped the narrow space of the mountain pass just after the menacing aura of Saidin being channeled drew his attention behind him. Daelar he guessed, but did not waste time thinking about. Flows of Fire spun into the air, settling over the distance between Valadin and the others. The danger of what he was about to do was instantly suppressed by the responsibility he felt for lives of his brothers. Gasping the flood of hot air filled the agonized cries of a few warriors unfortunate enough to have been charging pierced through the fog of pain.
I will not die.
Such a simple concept, yet it was one that had never crossed Valadin's mind until now. His life had never been his to keep so it had mattered little if he lost it in the past.
Now, as waded into the tides of battle, slashing into arms and legs with a feral, defiant raw he felt the value of his life. It had meaning...
The smell of scorched flesh stung at the nose and steam smothered the mountainside as hot air collided with cold. In these conditions Valadin, Daelar, Kiellan fought against far greater numbers. How many were slain before the enemy host was turned, Valadin was sure none could answer for certain. For himself he only knew the dull ache that ran up the length of his sword arm and fire searing his insides with each breath he took.
At last only they remained...them and the heap of corpses strewn at their feet. Hefting his sword over his shoulder, Valadin surveyed the destruction and remembered a time when taking a life had been difficult for him.
“Aye, seems we all made it," he replied calmly to Kiellan's initial question. He purposefully put answering the next for there was none to be given. First...
Wordlessly he approached Daelar brandishing his sword purposefully. They were two paces away when Valadin stopped. Judging from the calm expression the Seanchan wore Valadin decided he'd been preparing for this.
“Dedicated Daelar, brother..." Valadin began slowly. On the surface he appeared calm, the Void granting him serenity despite the storm of saidin churning within. “...why did ya risk our lives back there? Ya could've killed the lot o' us with that Weave. Hafta wonder...if ya jus' didn't stop to think or if that was yer aim."
By now the mist had lifted and the powerful aroma of death called crows which fluttered overhead. Soon the pass would littered with black feathers.
“Well? Have you an answer?"
The threat was there. Any warrior could look at the two and see the prologue of bloody combat in their readied stances. Valadin loathed himself for it, but he wanted more blood.


