A Memory of Light

better, than this agony.
    Gawyn was gone. A piece of herself, snipped away.
    “I forget how young she is.” Whispers drifted into the room. That voice was familiar. Silviana? “Care for her. I must return to the battle.”
    “How docs it go?” Egwene knew that voice, too. Rosil, of the Yellow. She had gone to Mayene, with the novices and Accepted, helping Heal.
    “The battle? It goes poorly.” Silviana was not one to put honey on her words. “Watch her, Rosil. She is strong; I do not doubt she will pull through this, but there is always a worry.”
    “I’ve helped women with lost Warders before, Silviana,” Rosil said. “I assure you, I’m quite capable. She’ll be useless for the next few days, but then she will begin to mend.”
    Silviana sniffed. “That boy ... I should have known he would ruin her. The day I first saw how she looked at him, I should have taken him by his ears, hauled him to a distant farm, and set him to work for the next decade.”
    “You cannot so easily control a heart, Silviana.”
    “Warders are a weakness,” Silviana said. “That is all they have ever been, and all they ever will be. That boy . . . that fool boy . . .”
    “That fool boy,” Egwene said, “saved my life from Seanchan assassins. I would not be here to mourn if he had not done so. I would suggest that you remember that, Silviana, when you speak of the dead.”
    The others were silent. Egwene tried to overcome the pain of loss. She was in Mayene, of course. Silviana would have taken her to the Yellows.
    “I will remember it, Mother,” Silviana said. She actually managed to sound contrite. “Rest well. I will—”
    “Rest is for the dead, Silviana,” Egwene said, sitting up.
    Silviana and Rosil stood in the doorway of the beautiful room, which was draped with blue cloth below the ceiling of worked mother-of-pearl inlays. Both women folded their arms and gave her stern looks.
    “You’ve been through something extremely hurtful, Mother,” Rosil said. Near the doorway, Leilwin stood guard. “The loss of a Warder is enough to stop any woman. There is no shame in letting yourself deal with the grief.”
    “Egwene al’Vere can grieve,” Egwene said, standing up. “Egwene al’Vere lost a man she loved, and she felt him die through a bond. The Amyrlin has sympathy for Egwene al’Vere, as she would have sympathy for any Aes Sedai dealing with such loss. And then, in the face of the Last Battle, the Amyrlin would expect that woman to pick herself up and return to the fight.”
    She walked across the room, each step firmer. She held out her hand to Silviana, nodding toward Vora’s sa’angreal , which she held. “I will be needing that.”
    Silviana hesitated.
    “Unless the two of you wish to discover just how capable I am at present,” Egwene said softly, “I would not suggest disobedience.”
    Silviana looked to Rosil, who sighed and nodded reluctantly. Silviana handed over the rod.
    “I do not condone this, Mother,” Rosil said. “But if you are insistent . . ”
    “I am.”
    “ . . then I will give you this suggestion. Emotion will threaten to crush you. This is the danger. In the face of a lost Warder, summoning saidar will be difficult. If you do manage it, Aes Sedai serenity will likely be impossible. This can be dangerous. Very dangerous.”
    Egwene opened herself to saidar. As Rosil had suggested, it was difficult to embrace the Source. Too many emotions vied for her attention, overwhelming her, driving away her calm. She blushed as she failed a second time.
    Silviana opened her mouth, undoubtedly to suggest that Egwene sit back down. At that moment, Egwene found saidar, ; the bud in her mind flowering, the One Power rushing into her. She gave Silviana a defiant look, then began weaving a gateway.
    “You didn’t hear the rest of my advice, Mother,” Rosil said. “You will not be able to banish the emotions troubling you, not completely. Your only choice is a bad one, to overwhelm those emotions of grief and pain with stronger emotions.”
    “That should not be difficult at all,” Egwene said. She drew a deep breath, pulling in more of the One Power. She allowed herself anger. Fury at the Shadowspawn who threatened the world, anger at them for taking Gawyn from her.
    “I will need eyes to watch me,” Egwene said, defying Silviana’s previous words. Gawyn had not been a weakness to her. “I will need another Warder.”
    “But—” Rosil began.
    Egwene stopped her with a