A Memory of Light (Wheel of Time, #14)

by Robert Jordan

Mat hated losing troops. There was a softness to the man equal to his genius—an odd, but inspiring, combination.

“You have two choices,” Talmanes said, turning his horse and speaking loudly to the troop. “You can fight like the rest of us and help this world see new days, and maybe you’ll earn some coin in the end. I can’t promise that. Your other option is to sit here, watch people be slaughtered and tell yourselves that you don’t work for free. If you’re lucky, and the rest of us salvage this world without you, you’ll draw breath long enough to be strung up by your cowardly necks.”

“All men are ignorant, Aes Sedai,” Androl said. “The topics of our ignorance may change, but the nature of the world is that no man may know everything.”

Sure as the wind and the sky, Perrin had become a king. A different kind of king than Rand—a king of his people, who lived among them. Rand couldn’t take that same path. Perrin could be a man. Rand had to be something more, for a little time yet. He had to be a symbol, a force that everyone could rely upon. That was terribly tiring. Not all of it was physical fatigue, but instead something deeper. Being what people needed was wearing on him, grinding as surely as a river cut at a mountain. In the end, the river would always win.

“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. Tell him that I’m coming for HIM!”

“Oh, Egwene,” Moiraine said. “Have you forgotten? ‘The unstained tower breaks and bends knee to the forgotten sign…’” Egwene blushed. “‘There can be no health in us, nor any good thing grow,’” Moiraine quoted, “‘for the land is one with the Dragon Reborn, and he one with the land. Soul of fire, heart of stone.’” She looked to Gregorin. “‘In pride he conquers, forcing the proud to yield.’” To the Borderlanders. “‘He calls upon the mountains to kneel…’” To the Sea Folk. “‘… and the seas to give way.’” To Perrin, then Berelain. “‘… and the very skies to bow.’” To Darlin. “‘Pray that the heart of stone remembers tears…’” Then, finally, to Elayne. “‘… and the soul of fire, love.’ You cannot fight this. None of you can. I am sorry. You think he came to this on his own?” She held up the document. “The Pattern is balance. It is not good nor evil, not wisdom nor foolishness. To the Pattern, these things matter not, yet it will find balance. The last Age ended with a Breaking, and so the next one will begin with peace—even if it must be shoved down your throats like medicine given to a screaming babe.”