A Memory of Light

painful muscle spasm.
    Thunder shook the sky, distant, like a promise of things to come. The shaking subsided. The clerks remained holding their stacks of paper, as if afraid to let go and risk them toppling.
    It’s really here, Rand thought. I’m not ready — we’re not ready—but it’s here anyway.
    He had spent many months fearing this day. Ever since Trollocs had come in the night, ever since Lan and Moiraine had dragged him from the Two Rivers, he had feared what was to come.
    The Last Battle. The end. He found himself unafraid now that it had come. Worried, but not afraid.
    I’m coming for you, Rand thought.
    “Tell the people,” Rand said to his clerks. “Post warnings. Earthquakes will continue. Storms. Real ones, terrible ones. There will be a Breaking, and we cannot avoid it. The Dark One will try to grind this world to dust.”
    The clerks nodded, shooting concerned glances at one another by lamplight. Perrin looked contemplative, but nodded faintly, as if to himself.
    “Any other news?” Rand asked.
    “The Queen of Andor may be up to something tonight, my Lord,” Balwer said.
    “ ‘Something’ is not a very descriptive word, Balwer,” Rand said.
    Balwer grimaced. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I don’t have more for you yet; I only just received this note. Queen Elayne was awakened by some of her advisors a short time ago. I don’t have anyone close enough to know why.”
    Rand frowned, resting his hand on Laman’s sword at his waist.
    “It could just be plans for tomorrow,” Perrin said.
    “True,” Rand said. “Let me know if you discover anything, Balwer. Thank you. You do well here.”
    The man stood taller. In these last days—days so dark—every man looked for something useful to do. Balwer was the best at what he did, and was confident in his own abilities. Still, it did no harm to be reminded of the fact by one who employed him, particularly if his employer was none other than the Dragon Reborn.
    Rand left the tent, Perrin following.
    “You’re worried about it,” Perrin said. “Whatever it was that awoke Elayne.”
    “They would not awaken her without good cause,” Rand said softly. “Considering her state.”
    Pregnant. Pregnant with his children. Light! He had only just learned of it. Why hadn’t she been the one to tell him?
    The answer was simple. Elayne could feel Rand’s emotions as he felt hers. She would have been able to feel how he had been, recently. Before Dragonmount. Back when . . .
    Well, she wouldn’t have wanted to confront him with a pregnancy when he’d been in such a state. Beyond that, he hadn’t exactly made himself easy to find.
    Still, it was a shock.
    I’m going to be a father, he thought, not for the first time. Yes, Lews Therin had had children, could remember them and his love for them. It wasn’t the same.
    He, Rand al’Thor, would be a father. Assuming he won the Last Battle.
    “They wouldn’t have awakened Elayne without good reason,” he continued, returning to task. “I’m worried, not because of what might have happened, but because of the potential distraction. Tomorrow will be an important day. If the Shadow has any inkling of tomorrow’s importance, it will try whatever it can to keep us from meeting, from unifying.”
    Perrin scratched at his beard. “I have people close to Elayne. People who keep watch on things for me.”
    Rand raised his hand. “Let’s go talk to them. I have a great deal to do tonight, but . . . Yes, I can’t let this slip.”
    The two turned toward Perrin’s camp nearby, picking up their pace, Rand’s bodyguards following like shadows with veils and spears.

    The night felt too quiet. Egwene, in her tent, worked on a letter to Rand. She was not certain if she would send it. Sending it was not important. Writing it was about organizing her thoughts, determining what she wished to say to him.
    Gawyn pushed his way into the tent again, hand on his sword, Warder cloak rustling.
    “Are you going to stay in this time?” Egwene asked, dipping her pen, “or are you going to go right back out?”
    “I don’t like this night, Egwene.” He looked over his shoulder. “Something feels wrong about it.”
    “The world holds its breath, Gawyn, waiting upon the events of the morrow. Did you send to Elayne, as I requested?”
    “Yes. She won’t be awake. It’s too late for her.”
    “We shall see.”
    It wasn’t long before a messenger arrived from Elayne’s camp, bearing a small folded letter.