A Memory of Light

“It was not meant to be humorous,” Moridin said.

“No, I suppose that it was not.” Rand looked at the endless landscape of dead grass and leaves. “It is hard to think that I was so afraid of you during those early days. Did you invade my dreams then, or bring me into one of these dreamshards? I was never able to figure it out.”

Moridin said nothing.

“I remember one time . . .” Rand said. “Sitting up by the fire, surrounded by nightmares that felt like Tel’aran’rhiod. You would not have been able to pull someone fully into the World of Dreams, yet I’m no dreamwalker, able to enter on my own.”

Moridin, like many of the Forsaken, had usually entered Tel’aran’rhiod in the flesh, which was dangerous. Some said that entering in the flesh was an evil thing, that it lost you a part of your humanity. It also made you more powerful.

Moridin gave no clue as to what had happened on that night. Rand remembered those days faintly, traveling toward Tear. He remembered visions in the night, visions of his friends or family that would try to kill him. Moridin . . . Ishamael . . . had been pulling him against his will into dreams intersecting Tel’aran’rhiod.

You were mad, during those days,” Rand said softly, looking into Moridin’s eyes. He could almost see the fires burning there. “You’re still mad, arent you? You just have it contained.

No one could serve him without being at least a little mad.”

Moridin stepped forward. “Taunt as you wish, Lews Therin. The ending dawns. Al wil be given to the great suffocation of the Shadow, to be stretched, ripped, strangled.”

Rand took a step forward as wel , right up to Moridin. They were the same height. “You hate yourself,” Rand whispered. “I can feel it in you, Elan. Once you served him for power; now you do it because his victory—and an end to al things—is the only release you’ll ever know.

You’d rather not exist than continue to be you. You must know that he wil not release you.

Not ever. Not you.”

Moridin sneered. “He’l let me kil you before this ends, Lews Therin. You, and the golden-haired one, and the Aiel woman, and the little darkhaired—”

“You act as if this is a contest between you and me, Elan,” Rand interrupted.

Moridin laughed, throwing his head back. “Of course it is! Haven’t you seen that yeti By the blood falls, Lews Therin! It is about us two. Just as in Ages past, over and over, we fight one another. You and I.”

No, Rand said. “Not this time. I’m done with you. I have a greater battle to fight.”

“Don’t try to—”

Sunlight exploded through the clouds above. There was often no sunlight in the World of Dreams, but now it bathed the area around Rand.

Moridin stumbled back. He looked up at the light, then gazed at Rand and narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t think . . . don’t think I wil believe your simple tricks, Lews Therin. Weiramon was shaken by what you did to him, but it’s not such a difficult thing, holding saidin and listening for people’s heartbeats to speed up.”

Rand exerted his will. The crackling dead leaves began to transform at his feet, turning green again, and shoots of grass broke through the leaves.

The green spread from him like spilled paint, and clouds above boiled away.

Moridin’s eyes opened wider. He stumbled, staring at the sky as the clouds retreated . . .

Rand could feel his shock. This was Moridin’s dreamshard.

However, to draw another in, he had had to place it close to Tel’aran’rhiod. Those rules applied. There was something else, too, something about the connection between the two of them . . .

Rand strode forward, lifting his arms out to the sides. Grass sprouted in waves, red blossoms burst from the ground like a blush upon the land. The storm stil ed, the dark clouds burned away by light.

“Tell your master!” Rand commanded. “Tell him this fight is not like the others. Tell him I’ve tired of minions, that I’m finished with his petty movement of pawns. Tel him that I’m coming for HIM!”

“This is wrong,” Moridin said, visibly shaken. “This isn’t . . ” He looked at Rand for a moment, standing beneath the blazing sun, then vanished.

Rand let out a deep breath. The grass died around him, the clouds sprang back, the sunlight faded. Though Moridin was gone, holding on to that transformation of the landscape had been difficult. Rand sagged, panting, recovering from the exertion.

Here, wil ing something to be true could make it so. If only things were that simple in the real world.

He closed his eyes and sent himself away, to sleep for the short time before he had to rise.

Rise, and save the world. If he could.

Pevara crouched beside Androl in the rainy night. Her cloak was soaked completely through.

She knew a couple of weaves that would have been useful for that, but she didn’t dare channel. She and the others would be facing Turned Aes Sedai and women of the Black Ajah.