Chapter Text
Somehow, Elayne had stumbled into the end of the Age, without any warning at all.
“This is Mat,” Nynaeve was telling her, because Nynaeve had the ability to concentrate when there was an enormous swirl of saidar beginning to dance around the tower. “And the boy you healed, that was Rand.”
And Rand… was quite possibly the Dragon Reborn.
Here they were in Falme, where prophecy said that the Dragon would be proclaimed.
Everyone else on the tower had been looking to Rand to save them and when Rand had been… had been unshielded, they had all relaxed, as if certain that everything would be taken care of now.
Indeed, they’d been right. The man that Egwene and her friend had been protecting Rand from was mere dust, because of Rand’s sword. His sword that was no longer a sword but only a hilt.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Elayne said to Mat, her mother’s training kicking in, even as she’d never felt more utterly overwhelmed.
“Thank you for saving Rand,” Mat said fervently. “We would have all died if you hadn’t.”
“Yes,” Nynaeve said quietly. “Thank you, Elayne.”
Egwene came over and Elayne was introduced to another of their friends — this one was ‘Perrin’. He was just as tall as the other two men, but broader.
Elayne found herself folded in as part of a massive hug from the other four of them. She clung to Egwene, so grateful to see her again and yet so… so desperately confused. Had Egwene and Nynaeve known that their friend was the Dragon? They must have. Light, they were good at keeping secrets!
The illusion-weave — bolstered by genuine fire from the burning ships, it looked like — came up high enough for them all to see it now. A dragon, like those depicted within the text of some of the oldest version of the prophecies. Of course. But who was creating it? It was made of saidar, not saidin, because Elayne could clearly see the weaves.
How strange it had been earlier, to see the Dragon’s sword heating up and glowing and yet not being able to see the weaves that he’d created.
The others were stumbling over to the broken ledge where the Dragon… where Rand… was standing. Though they did seem worn and tired, none of them seemed surprised.
They stood there for… Elayne wasn’t certain how long. The people of Falme were cheering in the streets below, and the bells were still ringing in celebration.
Then Rand swayed and Elayne felt a stab of guilt. She’d healed him, but only enough that he’d been able to stand up and fight again. She hadn’t been able to heal him fully, the way that any Aes Sedai Sister could have. The way that Nynaeve could have.
She stood a step towards him, an apology on her lips, and then a gasp escaped her as she put too much weight on her leg. She started to crumple, but Nynaeve was already supporting her with an arm around her shoulders.
Nynaeve asked, “Egwene… are you… are you too tired to channel? Elayne has a leg injury.”
“You’re hurt?” Rand asked, and even though he barely knew her, there was a soft concern in his voice, and Elayne-
-she refused to blush. Light, blushing in a situation like this!
Simply because Rand was the prettiest man she’d ever seen was no reason to act the goose around him.
“I’m sorry, Elayne, I’m so exhausted that I’m not certain I could even still embrace the Source right now,” Egwene said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s not so terrible,” she reassured them both, putting her own hand over Egwene’s to give it a pat. After everything that Egwene had been through, that she could still worry about Elayne! Having a friend was even better than Elayne had ever imagined that it could be. “I’ll be fine once I have the chance to sit down a spell.”
“A crossbow bolt went through her leg,” Nynaeve said flatly. “If someone could- Mat, you aren’t doing anything. You can carry her.”
“I don’t need to be-“
But then she was swept up in Mat’s arms and it felt uncouth to continue arguing. She set her arm around his shoulders and thanked him quietly. Mat was stronger than he looked and Elayne found that she felt quite safe in his arms.
Everyone here needed three things, more than anything else — a safe place to rest, something filling to eat, and a hot bath.
Time to ensure that they all got what they needed.
“Let’s leave this tower,” Elayne suggested. “I need to sit down somewhere.”
Mat carried her all the way down the staircase, as Perrin helped Rand and Nynaeve supported Egwene. It only confirmed what Elayne had already decided. The lot of them desperately needed rest.
They were met at the entrance to the tower by what seemed to be the entire city, cheering and overcome with excitement to see them.
“You are… the Dragon Reborn?” A man asked, looking between the three boys, trying to decide which of them it was.
“The Dragon requires food and rest,” Elayne said firmly. “Is there an inn available for our use?”
If so, she hoped that either someone else had money or the city’s gratitude extended to letting them stay there for free, because she certainly had nothing to pay them with.
“You shall stay at my inn,” a woman declared loudly, coming to the front of the crowd. Elayne spotted a handful of people who seemed disappointed that she’d spoken first. “The best rooms, the best food! We were forced to give these to the Seanchan before-“ She spit on the ground. “-but are pleased to offer them to the Dragon.”
“And a hot bath, if one is available,” Elayne added, and the woman nodded. “Thank very much, mistress…?”
“Iovar, miss,” she said. “My name is Iovar.”
“We have some other friends as well,” Perrin said. “An Ogier named Loial, three Aiel women, and a Shieraran warrior. Rand, if you can walk on your own, I’ll go find them.”
“I can walk,” Rand said, and he seemed to hold himself up fine when Perrin let go of him and headed off into the crowd, using a… a quarterstaff with a knife wrapped to the top of it in order to keep his balance.
They walked in silence for a time, the crowd parting around them.
“You were good at that,” Rand said after a few moments. “I hadn’t any idea of what to say to them.”
She would not blush.
“Thank you,” she said, tightening her arm around Mat’s neck. He gave her a sympathetic look, though she wasn’t certain why. Maybe he assumed that her leg was hurting.
Which it was, but that didn’t seem to matter much right now.
“She’s very good at bossing folk around,” Nynaeve muttered, but it didn’t sound as disapproving as it might have a handful of days ago. “Suppose it gets things done.”
“I’m certainly looking forward to a bath,” Mat said. And, well, she hadn’t wanted to say anything but he did smell a bit… ripe.
“A bath sounds… nice,” Egwene echoed.
“You need new clothes,” Elayne said fretfully. She should have thought of it before. Egwene couldn’t be forced to put on that terrible damane dress again. It would do nothing but force her to relive horrid memories.
“My daughter is around your size, young miss,” Mistress Iovar said. “Close enough, at any rate. And I can scrounge up something for the boys as well.”
“Egwene,” she said softly. “My name is Egwene.”
“Egwene,” Mistress Iovar corrected herself. It led to a flood of introductions from the others as well, until she knew all of their names.
“Perrin was the one who just left,” Mat finished. “And, uh, Rand’s the Dragon Reborn.”
As soon as they arrived at her inn, named the Squalling Gull, Mistress Iovar sent word to have baths drawn for the group, and she was able to set up a meal right away. Mat carried Elayne into the private room that they’d been given and, as soon as she was set down on a bench, Nynaeve was fussing over her leg again, asking for bandages. Give that she was soon to have a bath, Elayne wasn’t certain it was required, but it seemed to make Nynaeve feel better if she was allowed to fuss, so Elayne didn’t object overmuch.
Egwene ate like someone starving and Elayne wondered… had they been starving her? If the Seanchan sought to break her to their will, it made sense that they would do such things.
Rand placed the staff with the knife on it in the farthest corner of the room before sitting down to eat.
Partway into the meal, Perrin arrived with Loial — who Elayne had already met — and with his other friends, the Aiel women and the Shieraran.
They all introduced themselves and then one of the Aiel — Aviendha, she’d said her name was — spoke directly to Rand, saying, “You are the Car’a’carn, and He Who Comes With The Dawn.”
“You must come with us to the Three-Fold Land,” Bain added.
“We have been searching for you for months,” Chiad said.
“What’s… what’s the Car’a’carn?” Rand asked. “And how do you know that it’s me?”
“We saw the sign at the top of the tower. And you are the only one here who is Aiel,” Aviendha said. Though her eyes went to Elayne’s face for a moment and she looked slightly puzzled. Not, not her face. Her hair. Of course, that made sense, given what little Elayne knew of the Aiel. Red hair was uncommon everywhere except among the Aiel.
“You see, Rand?” Loial rumbled.
“I see,” Rand said, his voice soft. He was a soft-spoken man in general, Elayne had noticed. Even when he’d killed- killed one of the Forsaken, there had been something almost gentle about the way he’d spoken to the man when he’d been dying. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t willing to believe you when you told me as much last year, Loial.”
“I need no apology, my friend,” Loial said. “I am only glad to see that you are alive and well.”
“We’re all glad,” Perrin agreed.
Mat, who had taken the chair next to Rand after he’d deposited Elayne on her bench, slung his arm around Rand at this and whispered something in his ear, which made Rand half-smile and reach up to pat Mat’s hand where it rested on his shoulder. Then Rand said, to the group in general, “I… I am sorry.”
“Me too,” Mat added, and she could see him squeezing Rand’s shoulder reassuringly. “I abandoned all of you. I’m sorry for that.”
“Oh, Mat,” Nynaeve said. She reached across the table and cupped his cheek for a moment, before sitting back down. “Rand. We don’t need to get into that now.”
“We can talk later,” Egwene said, and Rand dipped his head in acknowledgment.
In more privacy, they likely meant. If Rand and Mat were to apologize in detail for however they’d ‘abandoned’ everyone else, Egwene and Nynaeve didn’t want them to do it in front of near-strangers.
Including Elayne.
It didn’t sting much to acknowledge that. Though she and Nynaeve had been through a trying time together, and Egwene had been her very first friend, Elayne didn’t know their other friends at all.
“What do you plan to do next, my… Lord Dragon?” The Shieraran, Masema, asked. He stared at Rand like he saw his own salvation there. Perhaps he did. There were all sorts of ways that people would likely react to learning that the Dragon had been reborn.
“He will go to the Three-Fold Land,” Aviendha said firmly. “There is a place he must go to prove that he is the Car’a’carn.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” Rand said. “Moiraine should be here… eventually. We can talk about what happens next once she gets here. I’m certain she’s the one who created that dragon in the sky, so she cannot be too far away.”
Elayne blinked, her mind skipping a beat.
“Moiraine… Damodred?” she asked. “Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah?”
“You know Moiraine?” Egwene asked. “I hadn’t realized.”
“She’s… my aunt,” Elayne said. “Moiraine Sedai is here, in Falme?”
“You don’t look a thing like her,” Rand said.
“Our relation is through my father, who was a Damodred,” Elayne said. “I take after my mother.”
“So you’re… a noble of some kind?” Mat asked, his brow creasing thoughtfully. “Moiraine said she belonged to a fallen house. Something like that.”
“Elayne Trakand is the Daughter-Heir of Andor,” Loial said. “Lawfully, I believe the five of you are all her subjects.”
“Do not start that up again,” Nynaeve said. “We’re nobody’s subject.”
“What does being a ‘Daughter-Heir’ have to do with us being anyone’s subjects?” Perrin asked.
Egwene truly had not been teasing Elayne when she’d shown no knowledge of the basic politics and governance of Andor, it seemed.
“I think it means she’s like a princess from a gleeman’s tale,” Mat said. “She looks a bit like a princess. How I would imagine one looks.”
“Princess is an archaic term,” Elayne said. “Only used in things like stories. But, essentially, you are correct. I am the heir to the Lion Throne of Andor. You’ve… heard of the Lion Throne, haven’t you?”
“Of course,” Rand said. “But why would we be your subjects? The Two Rivers doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“The official maps of Andor do show that the Two Rivers is the westernmost part of the country,” Loial said. All five of the Two Rivers’ people looked incredibly skeptical about this information. That… that explained a great deal.
Luckily, Elayne didn’t have to tell them anything — Loial was more than happy to expand on Andor’s historical relationship with the Two Rivers. It did make her wonder if Mother knew that the Two Rivers no longer considered itself part of Andor. If they were unaware that the Queen of Andor was their queen… they couldn’t possibly be paying taxes.
Loial was still speaking when Mistress Iovar arrived to tell them that the baths were ready.
“I’ll share with Elayne,” Nynaeve said firmly. “I want to re-wrap your bandages afterward. And make sure that you don’t hurt yourself worse getting into the bath. Mat, can you carry her into the room?”
“Oh! Of course,” Mat said. He came over to her bench and swooped her back up into his arms again.
“Thank you,” Elayne said. “I’m not certain that I need help but I am looking forward to a long soak.”
“A… soak?” Aviendha asked. “What will you be soaking in?”
“Surely these baths are not filled with water,” Bain said, sounding faintly horrified. “You will drown.”
“They have not said how deep the water is,” Chiad said. “Perhaps it is not deep enough for drowning.”
“Even shallow water can drown the unwary,” Aviendha cautioned.
Mat shared an amused smile with her as he carried her along, following Mistress Iovar. Each of the tubs was in its own room on the lower floor of the inn, so when Mat dropped her off inside the room, it was just her and Nynaeve — after the three Aiel women had taken the opportunity to stare at the filled tub and then said that they would guard the hallway for everyone.
“You must have so many questions,” Nynaeve said once they were alone. “Now’s your chance to ask them.”
“…you’re friends with the Dragon Reborn?” Elayne started off with. She got undressed while they talked, though Nynaeve insisted on helping her into the comforting heat of the water before undressing herself and joining her.
And so she learned about how Moiraine Sedai had come to their village, and about the Shadowspawn attack — Shadowspawn so deep in the Mountains of Mist? — and about Nynaeve finding Moiraine and her Warder Lan outside Shadar Logoth.
Nynaeve had been present when the false dragon Logain had been gentled, against Tower law, and she’d been in Fal Dara when it had nearly fallen to a massive attack by the Shadow from the Blight. This last part of the story, Elayne knew a little bit about already, as the Sisters had gossiped about the strength that Nynaeve had shown in Fal Dara.
Rand had gone off on his own to face the Dark One there, and they had believed that he’d died while defeating him.
“Foolish, sweet boy,” Nynaeve said fondly. “He thought he was sparing us the pain of watching him go mad, I’ll wager.”
“He does not seem mad,” Elayne said. “He seems kind.”
“He is,” Nynaeve agreed. “He’s always been such a gentle boy. Light, I hate that he has to face this, but at least he’s not facing it alone anymore.”
“What do you think will happen next?” Elayne asked. “We must return to the White Tower, I suppose. It’s hard to imagine being there after… after all this.”
“I haven’t thought about it yet,” Nynaeve said. “I’m not sure I can go back there if Rand needs me. If any of them need me.”
“But the Amyrlin needs to know about-“
Then Elayne gasped.
“Ryma! Do you think that she might still be-“
“-in those dreadful kennels,” Nynaeve finished. “Oh, perhaps. Do you think they’ve been freed?”
“We must find out,” Elayne said.
But Nynaeve insisted on them finishing their bath first.
“You’re hurt,” she said sternly. It was easy to tell, at times like this, that Nynaeve was a bit older than Elayne was, and older than the rest of the people from the Two Rivers that Elayne had met. And when the bath was finished, Nynaeve wrapped Elayne’s leg wound in fresh bandages, looking frustrated that the Power still had not returned to her.
“Ah, I can answer that for you,” Mistress Iovar said when they asked after the damane and da’covale who might have been left behind by the Seanchan retreat. “We’ve had word that an Aes Sedai who just arrived in the city has taken charge of everything. Freed all the prisoners and is arranging for them to get proper places to stay.”
Given what Rand had said, that was likely Moiraine Sedai. Even if it wasn’t Moiraine, an Aes Sedai who was freeing the damane would be worth having a conversation with.
“Could you send word to her that the Dragon Reborn is staying here?” Elayne asked. “And ask if she can bring a woman named ‘Ryma’ with her when she comes?”
“If you like. Are they… he knows her?”
“He is expecting her,” Elayne said, hoping she was right.
“Moiraine could heal you,” Nynaeve said, as she helped Elayne back up the stairs and to the room that Mistress Iovar had set aside for them to gather in. “Or… if Ryma is still alive, she could do it easily.”
“I am perfectly fine,” Elayne said. “I could ask for no better healer than you.”
“There’s no need to lie to me,” Nynaeve said, but her voice was soft. “Light, it’ll be strange to see- to see Moiraine again. It’s been an age, feels like.”
“I have never met her at all,” Elayne said cheerfully. “She was always away from the White Tower when I went there in the summers. Always traveling. Was she looking for the Dragon Reborn all those years?”
“I think she was,” Nynaeve said.
“Well, that solves a mystery that plagued the Tower for ages,” Elayne said. “You can’t know how it troubled Elaida that Moiraine was always darting about here and there on her little schemes.”
“Elaida?” Nynaeve asked, and so Elayne settled into telling Nynaeve all about Elaida Sedai, who had been her mother’s adviser all of Elayne’s life.
“Red Ajah, and quite stern,” Elayne said. “She’s often knitting but always, always listening.”
“You sound like you learned that the hard way,” Nynaeve said and Elayne laughed.
As she laughed, Rand and Mat entered the long room — just them at first and there was something… they looked as if they’d had a fight, all prickly with each other in a way that they hadn’t been earlier. It wasn’t any of Elayne’s business what they’d been fighting about, but she couldn’t help but be curious.
“That is an incredibly charming laugh,” Mat told her, as he dropped down on the bench next to her. He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, and he had a faint floral scent around him that was much better than how he’d smelled before. New clothes too, for both him and Rand, practical but well-made. Gifts of Mistress Iovar, no doubt, eager to help the Dragon and his friends. “How does your leg feel?”
“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about,” Elayne said.
“A crossbow bolt going through your leg is a serious injury,” Rand said, and he sat by himself, near the entrance. Had he winced slightly as he sat down?
“Moiraine is in the city,” Nynaeve said. “And once she arrives, she can heal Elayne’s leg properly.”
Both Nynaeve and Rand looked somewhat morose after that. Nynaeve… most likely because she still felt like she had failed by not being able to heal Elayne herself. Perhaps Rand felt the same way. As a man who could channel, he didn’t have the benefit of the White Tower and its training. Where would he have learned healing? Everything he knew, he would have learned through fumbling around in the dark and pure instinct.
“Hey, Nynaeve, maybe you can talk Rand out of this fool notion that he should trek to the bloody Aiel Waste,” Mat said and- ah. Elayne suspected that perhaps she could guess what the two of them had argued over.
“If there’s a prophecy…” Rand began.
“Aren’t you already dealing with enough prophecies as it is?” Mat asked. “You’re the Dragon Reborn. That’s more than any man needs to face. Let some other idiot be the Car’a’carn.”
“It is not a thing he can choose, wetlander,” Aviendha said as she entered the room, with Bain and Chiad following closely behind. “It is what he is.”
“Perhaps,” Chiad added, giving Rand a critical look.
She made some sharp movements with her hands that both Aviendha and Bain’s eyes immediately darted to look at, then Bain shook her head.
“The sign was obvious as the noonday sun,” Bain said. “He is the Car’a’carn. There is no point in arguing. He will go to where he must go, and he will prove himself to be what he is.”
“Most likely,” Chiad said. “But the world is uncertain, in recent days.”
“A few minutes of privacy, that was all I asked for,” Mat muttered.
“You do not own Rand al’Thor’s undivided attention,” Aviendha said. “He wished to speak with us.”
“Plenty of time to talk it over after Moiraine Sedai arrives,” Elayne put in, hoping that it would be enough to break the rising tension. “We all need some rest before anyone goes anywhere.”
“An Aes Sedai is coming here?” Chiad asked, looking over at Aviendha, who made some motions with her hands.
They had introduced themselves as belonging to Far Dareis Mai, which meant ‘Maidens of the Spear’ in the Old Tongue, and they were clearly soldiers of some kind. Sharing an unspoken language to aid in remaining unheard by the enemy would make sense.
Maybe they would be willing to teach Elayne some of it, if she asked.
“We cannot worry about that right now,” Aviendha said. “Perhaps we will not be her concern.”
That was… an intriguing way of putting it.
“She’s coming for me,” Rand said, sounding resigned. “Not for anyone else. You don’t have to worry about Moiraine.”
“She won’t want you to go to the Waste,” Mat said, then winced. “Or maybe she will. Who knows why Moiraine does what she does?”
“I won’t make my decisions based on what Moiraine wants or doesn’t want,” Rand said. “I’ll make up my own mind.”
“She’ll learn that Two Rivers’ folk can’t be bullied,” Nynaeve agreed with a firm nod.
Elayne shouldn’t find it astonishing, how they talked about Moiraine Sedai like she was just another person — that was how they all treated Elayne as well, and there was something appealing about it — but there had always been something larger than life about Moiraine in the stories that Elayne had heard about her aunt.
Soon after that, they were slowly joined by the others, with Egwene in a Falme-style dress that was slightly too big for her.
When Moiraine did arrive — looking so much like all the portraits of Damodred ladies that Elayne had ever seen — she was accompanied by her Warder, the famous Lan Mandragoran, one of the last survivors of Malkier and the uncrowned king of that fallen country, and by-
“Ryma Sedai,” Elayne called out in relief, hearing herself echoed by Nynaeve.
“You girls did manage to stay safe,” Ryma said, giving them a weary smile, one that trembled around the edges.
“You figured out how to get the collars off,” Egwene said.
Moiraine’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Yes. I was able to remove her- her collar by putting on the bracer myself. It was not a pleasant experience.”
“Trust me, you felt much better than the sul’dam,” Ryma said. She looked over Elayne and Nynaeve with a critical eye. “Elayne, are you injured?”
“It’s nothing im-“
“A crossbow bolt went through her leg,” Nynaeve interrupted. “I wasn’t able to heal her. If either of you…”
“If you are too tired,” Moiraine began, but Ryma shook her head.
“You cannot know how dearly I long to use the One Power right now, Sister,” she said, sitting next to Elayne on the bench and placing her hand on Elayne’s knee.
“I must tell you… there was a Blue Sitter who was captured by the Seanchan,” Egwene said, and her voice cracked. “She- she died when the Whitecloaks attacked but… the Seanchan had already broken her will to fight against them. These a’dam… what they do to women. It is unbearable.”
“It is,” Ryma agreed, as she embraced the Source and began weaving to heal Elayne’s leg. “I am uncertain how long I could have lasted under their… tender attention. I am grateful that the battle occurred and that you arrived when you did, Moiraine.” She glanced over at the men. “And which of these is the Dragon Reborn?”
“Rand al’Thor,” Moiraine said, gesturing towards him.
Rand gave Ryma a wary look.
“She is not going to try to shield you, Rand,” Moiraine said, but she turned towards Ryma and added, “I was hoping that you would go to the White Tower for us, Sister? I am… not in favor with the Amyrlin Seat. Or any other Sisters, most likely.”
“When are you ever in favor with the Amyrlin?” Ryma said, with a wry twist to her mouth. “But, yes. The White Tower needs to learn about the Seanchan. If you do not plan to return there, I will be pleased to go. You will stay here, then?”
“Oh, yes,” Moiraine said. “It is where I am most needed.”
Ryma’s eyes went to Rand, studying him.
It make Elayne think of Tower law regarding the Dragon Reborn. Capture and shield him, and then protect him until it was time to fight the Last Battle — both from others who might want to kill him, and from himself and his own potential madness.
“I have already been the guest of the Amyrlin once,” Rand said, his own thoughts perhaps matching Elayne's, sounding… she wasn’t certain. Not quite apologetic, though she would not have called it defensive either. “I would prefer not to repeat our encounter.”
Elayne winced. There had been a rasp in his voice that sounded troublesome.
“It will not happen again,” Moiraine said firmly. “I will do everything in my power to protect you, Rand. That is a promise.”
Protect him even from the White Tower itself. Light, that was a bold promise.
“You will not be left defenseless,” Lan agreed. “Where is your sword? I had thought to teach you some more forms.”
Rand opened up his palm and held it out toward them, the heron-mark brand showing clearly. “It’s gone. It burned away when I killed Ishamael.”
“You killed one of the Forsaken?” Ryma asked, as she finished the weave and settled it over Elayne’s leg, making her shiver at the chill of the healing. “One of the Forsaken was here, in Falme?”
“Two of them,” Rand said. “Ishamael is dead and… and I am uncertain what happened to Lanfear.”
The Daughter of the Night. Had Rand stumbled over saying her name? In the stories about Lanfear, it was said that she had loved Lews Therin passionately, perhaps even obsessively. Some of the stories even claimed that she fell to the Shadow when Lews Therin rejected her for the woman who would become his wife, Ilyena Sunhair. Did Rand know those stories? Some of them were ancient and quite obscure.
“Ishamael had rooms in one of the manors here,” Mat volunteered. “He… I was imprisoned there.”
“We should search them,” Lan said, and Moiraine nodded.
Even healed, it was decided that Elayne would not be part of any search, as she needed to recover her strength, so she was left to wait at the inn, while most everyone else left.
Loial stayed with her, however, and he was agreeable company and readily spoke on what he knew of her new companions — he knew Perrin best, having traveled with him for months, but he’d met the others as well and she learned some fascinating bits of information, such as Mat having been corrupted by a dagger from Shadar Logoth, of all things, before Moiraine Sedai had healed him.
“That same dagger there,” Loial said, nodding to the make-shift spear that was still in the corner of the room. No one had seemed to want to carry it for long and now Elayne understood why. “I do not know how it ended up back in Mat’s possession.”
There were many mysteries surrounding Egwene and Nynaeve’s friends, and Elayne very much hoped that she would be given the opportunity to unravel them.