A Memory of Light

displeasure that the fireplace in the room contained a nothingness beyond it. “What have you done to them?” Rand demanded.
    I LET THEM THINK THEY WON.
    “Why?”
    MANY WHO FOLLOW ME DO NOT UNDERSTAND TYRANNY.
    “What does that have to do with—” Rand cut off as Gill returned. He bore no “faction symbol,” whatever that was. Instead, he’d gathered three thick-necked guards. He pointed in, toward Rand.
    “Gill . . .” Rand said, backing away and seizing the Source. “What are you doing?”
    “Well, I figure that coat will sell for something,” Gill said. He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
    “And so you’ll rob me?”
    “Well, yes.” Gill seemed confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”
    The thugs stepped into the room, looking Rand over with careful eyes. They carried cudgels.
    “Because of the law,” Rand said.
    “Why would there be laws against theft?” Gill asked, shaking his head. “What manner of person are you, to think such things? If a man cannot protect what he has, why should he have it? If a man cannot defend his life, what good is it to him?”
    Gill waved the three men forward. Rand bound them in cords of Air.
    “You took their consciences, didn’t you?” he asked softly.
    Gill’s eyes widened at the use of the One Power. He tried to run. Rand grabbed him in cords of Air as well.
    MEN WHO THINK THEY ARE OPPRESSED WILL SOMEDAY FIGHT. I WILL REMOVE FROM THEM NOT JUST THEIR WILL TO RESIST, BUT THE VERY SUSPICION THAT SOMETHING IS WRONG.
    “So you leave them without compassion?” Rand demanded, looking into Gill’s eyes. The man seemed terrified that Rand would kill him, as did the three thugs. No remorse. Not a bit of it.
    COMPASSION IS NOT NEEDED.
    Rand felt deathly cold. “This is different from the world you showed me before.”
    WHAT I SHOWED BEFORE IS WHAT MEN EXPECT. IT IS THE EVIL THEY THINK THEY FIGHT. BUT I WILL MAKE A WORLD WHERE THERE IS NOT GOOD OR EVIL.
    THERE IS ONLY ME.
    “Do your servants know?” Rand whispered. “The ones you name Chosen? They think they fight to become lords and rulers over a world of their own making. Instead you will give them this. The same world . . . except one without Light.”
    THERE IS ONLY ME.
    No Light. No love of men. The horror of it sank deep within Rand, shaking him. This was one of the possibilities that the Dark One could choose, if he won. It didn’t mean he would, or that it had to happen, but ... oh Light, this was terrible. Far more terrible than a world of captives, far more terrible than a dark land with a broken landscape.
    This was true horror. This was a full corruption of the world, it was taking everything beautiful from it, leaving behind only a husk. A pretty husk, but still a husk.
    Rand would rather live a thousand years of torture, retaining the piece of himself that gave him the capacity for good, than live a moment in this world without Light.
    He turned, enraged, upon the darkness. It consumed the far wall, growing larger. “You make a mistake, Shai’tan!” Rand yelled at that nothingness. “You think to make me despair? You think to shatter my will? This will not do it, I swear to you. This makes me sure to fight!”
    Something rumbled inside of the Dark One. Rand yelled, pushing outward with his will, shattering the dark world of lies and men who would kill without empathy. It exploded into threads, and Rand was once again in the place outside of time, the Pattern rippling around him.
    “You show me your true heart?” Rand demanded of the nothingness as he seized those threads. “I will show you mine, Shai’tan. There is an opposite to this Lightless world you would create.
    “A world without Shadow.”

    Mat stalked away, calming his anger. Tuon had seemed really angry at him! Light. She would come back when he needed her to, would she not?
    “Mat?” Min said, hurrying up beside him.
    “Go with her,” Mat said. “Keep an eye on her for me, Min.”
    “But—”
    “She doesn’t need much protecting,” Mat said. “She’s a strong one. Bloody ashes, but she is. She does need watching, though. She worries me, Min. Anyway, I have this bloody war to win. I can’t do that and go with her. So would you go and watch her? Please?”
    Min slowed, then gave him an unexpected hug. “Luck, Matrim Cauthon.
    “Luck, Min Farshaw,” Mat said. He let her go, then shouldered his ashandarei. The Seanchan had begun leaving Dashar Knob, pulling back to the Erinin before leaving the Field of