A Memory of Light

bones. He could barely think through the pressure and the sense of loss. The death of Egwene and so many others.
    Let go.
    It is their choice to make.
    He wanted so badly to protect them, the people who believed in him. Their deaths, and the danger they faced, were an enormous weight upon him. How could a man just ... let go? Wasn’t that letting go of responsibility?
    Or was it giving the responsibility to them?
    Rand squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of all those who had died for him. Of Egwene, whom he had sworn to himself to protect.
    You fool. Her voice in his head. Fond, but sharp.
    “Egwene?”
    Am I not allowed to be a hero, too?
    “It’s not that . .
    You march to your death. Yet you forbid anyone else from doing so?
    “I . . ”
    Let go, Rand. Let us die for what we believe, and do not try to steal that from us.
    You have embraced your death. Embrace mine.
    Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
    Why?
    “I’ve failed.”
    No. Not yet you haven’t.
    The Dark One flayed him. He huddled before that vast nothingness, unable to move. He screamed in agony.
    And then, he let go.
    He let go of the guilt. He let go of the shame for having not saved Egwene and all the others. He let go of the need to protect her, to protect all of them.
    He let them be heroes.
    Names streamed from his head. Egwene, Hurin, Bashere, Isan of the Chareen Aiel, Somara and thousands more. One by one—first slowly, but with increasing speed—he counted backward through the list he had once maintained in his head. The list had once been only women, but had grown to include everyone he knew had died for him. He hadn’t realized how large it had become, how much he had let himself carry.
    The names ripped from him like physical things, like doves aflight, and each one carried away a burden. Weight vanished from his shoulders. His breathing grew steadier. It was as if Perrin had come with his hammer and shattered a thousand chains that had been dragging behind Rand.
    Ilyena was last. We are reborn, Rand thought, so we can do better the next time.
    So do better.
    He opened his eyes and placed his hand before him, palm against blackness that felt solid. His self that had fuzzed, becoming indistinct as the Dark One ripped at it, pulled together. He placed his other arm down, then heaved himself to his knees.
    And then, Rand al’Thor—the Dragon Reborn—stood up once again to face the Shadow.

    “No, no,” the beautiful Shendla whispered, looking down at Demandred’s body. Her heart sank down inside of her and she tore at her hair with both hands, her body swaying. As she gazed on her beloved, Shendla slowly drew breath deep into her chest, and when it released, it was a fearful shriek: “Bao the Wyld is dead!”
    The entire battlefield seemed to grow still.

    Rand faced the Dark One in that place that was not, surrounded by all time and nothing at the same time. His body still stood in the cave of Shayol Ghul, locked into that moment of battle against Moridin, but his soul was here.
    He existed in this place that was not, this place outside of the Pattern, this place where evil was born. He looked into it, and he knew it. The Dark One was not a being, but a force—an essence as wide as the universe itself, which Rand could now see in complete detail. Planets, stars in their multitudes, like the motes above a bonfire.
    The Dark One still strove to destroy him. Rand felt strong despite the attacks. Relaxed, complete. With his burdens gone, he could fight again. He held himself together. It was difficult, but he was victorious.
    Rand stepped forward.
    The Darkness shuddered. It quivered, vibrated, as if disbelieving.
    I DESTROY THEM.
    The Dark One was not a being. It was the darkness between. Between lights, between moments, between eyeblinks.
    ALL IS MINE THIS TIME. IT WAS EVER MEANT TO BE. IT WILL EVER BE.
    Rand saluted those who died. The blood running across rocks. The weeping of those who witnessed others fall. The Shadow threw all of it at Rand, intent on Rand's destruction. But it did not destroy him.
    “We will never give in,” Rand whispered. “I will never give in.”
    The vast Shadow thundered and shook. It sent jolts through and across the world. The ground rent, the laws of nature fractured. Swords turned against their owners, food spoiled, rock turned to mud.
    It came upon Rand again, the force of nothingness itself trying to pull him apart. The strength of the attack did not