He stood looking at the house which had once been home. Surrounded by tilled fields, pastures and paddocks, it was proclaimed a farmhouse. Not a large one by any means,
but for the likes of Murandy, not bad. Watching the cows mow the grass in their pasture, and the ducks and chickens splashing around in the pond, he felt a surge of loneliness. Quit it! he told himself. I'm not even gone yet!

No, he corrected himself. I'm not gone yet, but it's no longer home, either. Nobody wants to live with someone who can channel. And it wasn't even like
he could channel - he had just been told that he had the ability, and he would go mad if he didn't get it changed. Same thing, he thought wryly. You know
your family really loves you when they refuse to live with someone who may go mad any day. With that final thought, he turned and walked away, heading towards the
Tower of Will, where he could get training, and maybe even stay sane.

A while later, he was a victim of his thoughts yet again. What's the difference between being a Darkfriend and being able to channel, or an Asha'man? he asked
himself. Either way, you're getting closer and closer to the Dark One, by your own free will. With touching saidin, you have to reach through his taint.
Being a Darkfriend speaks for itself. Light - what has happened to me? He mulled that over for a while, before coming up with a new thought.

Why should I ask the Light for forgiveness? I've forsaken it. Oh, Light, I feel so alone . . . His days of travel were filled with thoughts such as these, day in,
day out. He didn't even get a reprieve in his sleep: his dreams were filled with thoughts of the Children of Light hunting him down and Questioning him, proving that he was
part of the Dark. He dreamt of Myrdraal and fists upon fists of Trollocs, of jails where officials put him to stop him from hurting people which he broke out of and destroyed the world. No, he did not get peace of mind. He didn't even blame his family for sending him away, for disowning him.

He remembered playing with his little sisters, being dressed up like a doll by his older sister Mariana, and his other sisters saying how cute he was, with his blond hair sticking out everywhich way from the doll's bonnet. He remembered playing hide and seek in the thin woods that they had near the farm with the boys from the village, and swimming in the duck pond, much to his sisters' disgust. He remembered everything. But the life that he remembered wasn't his anymore.

When he arrived at the Tower of Will, he realized that he was home, or as much as he could get. They could stop him here, they would take the neccessary measures if he
did indeed go mad. He wouldn't be able to hurt people. Walden Muriat was where he belonged, whether he liked it or not.