Aleshta Sedai sat in a small, starkly furnished room in the White Tower, her face as expressionless as a stone as she listened to the report of the young man in front of her. He was a Warder, dressed in the traditional white wool shirt and simple breeches that all Warders wore, and his bearing was that of a man who had seen much in his short twenty years.

“They came so fast,” he told her, his voice low and intense. “They moved like lightning, and they were upon us before we even knew they were there. We fought as best we could, but it was no use. I am the only one who managed to escape.”

“And you have no idea what they were looking for?” Aleshta asked.

The young man shook his head. “No, Aes Sedai. They seemed to be searching for something, but they did not find it. They left nothing but destruction in their wake.”

Aleshta nodded slowly. “Thank you for reporting this to me, Gaidin. You have done well.” She stood up and gave him a slight nod. “You may go.”

The young man bowed deeply, then rose and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Aleshta stood for a moment, lost in thought.