Captured Moments

The thoughts raced through Zen's head as she lay down that night; it was apparent that sleep would be elusive yet again. It had been nearly two full days since she had last rested, her mind was shattered- and yet so full of questions, images, and problems. She was worn to the bone, physically and emotionally, but it ever persisted.

"The Heir of Tarkanan 'returned'? And attacking Kincaid d'Cannith...himself?" she pondered silently, steeped in images of grey cloaks and aberrant marks, childhood memories and Kincaid's broken body.

She rolled over fitfully, adjusting her modest pillow in a vain attempt to get comfortable.
Chewing her lip, she poured over, and over again, the other scenes from her brief time in Cannith Tower.

She recalled the encounter well, the fear and irritation in his clear blue eyes... Sitting, body broken, on the edge of the infirmary bed. It was devastating to see what he had suffered, but her heart still sang with gladness to find him alive.

"Kincaid was afraid... genuinely, afraid, when he saw me.. and angry," she added sheepily to herself, "I guess I can see why... but how was I supposed to know better?"

She groaned to herself, the weight of it all steadily sinking into the pit of her stomach like a rock.

"He actually said that Merrix d'Cannith would kill me if he knew I was there. Because he was afraid of my father, Rand.. ... d'CANNITH."

No matter how she looked at it, no matter how many times the words played again and again, there were only more questions, broken images, and bad memories.

"My father was a dragonmarked heir!" she thought to herself bitterly as she shifted again.

"They call me a rat, like I'm nothing my whole life, and now all of a sudden I'm supposed to believe that I'm somebody? I just figure that out, ... and now this!"

A nauseating feeling of dread shook her body, raising panic and bile into her throat. She choked it down, tightly clenching her fists around the edge of the light blanket.

"If Merrix was afraid of my father... afraid enough to kill even his bastard, unmarked child... that does put me in a very dangerous place. Even more than Garona could have guessed... Oh gods, what's happening? I just got everything sorted out, everything was going to be perfect!"

She rolled over a third time, tossing the cover to the ground, happy for the light breeze in the humid Sharn night... it was almost summer, and the nights were getting warmer.

She swore sharply under her breath.

"And Garona... how could she have done this to me? How could she have, even not knowing who she was attacking... how could she be doing this? Murder? Attacking the Houses? It isn't like taking any other hit, it's ludicrous! I have to find some way to speak to her again, to appeal to her.. to help her. It has to be that aberrant mark she has! She wouldn't, couldn't be doing this herself... it has to be the sickness. Maybe there's a way to help her."

Zen felt pretty sick herself, so she sat up, resting her head in her hands. The fear and chaos consuming her mind had her drenched in a cold sweat.

"...and if the Heir of Tarkanan is really that big of a deal... and he, himself, attacked Kincaid... and nearly killed him..."

She swallowed forcefully, shaken by the severity of the sudden realization, "Kincaid really is kind of a 'big deal' around here..."

She hugged her knees to her chest, locking her jaw and gritting her teeth against the tears stinging her eyes, threatening to betray the inner turmoil and confusion.

"Who is Kincaid d'Cannith? And what could he possibly want from me?"

"Who was Rand d'Cannith? Why was Merrix, the head of House Cannith, possibly afraid of him? Afraid enough to outright kill his illegitimate daughter? Could that really be true?"





"Who am I?"