A Memory of Light

“It dies, and the dust soon will rule. The dust . . . then nothing.”
    “How did you pass my wards?”
    “I don’t know,” Moridin said. “I knew that if I created this place, you would join me in it. You cant keep away from me. The Pattern won’t allow it. We are drawn together, you and I. Time after time after time. Two ships moored on the same beach, beating against one another with each new tide.
    Poetic,” Rand said. “You’ve finally let Mierin off her leash, I’ve seen.” Moridin stopped, and Rand paused, looking at him. The man’s rage seemed to come off him in waves of heat.
    “She came to you?” Moridin demanded.
    Rand said nothing.
    “Do not pretend that you knew she still lived. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have known.”
    Rand kept still. His emotions regarding Lanfear—or whatever she called herself now—were complicated. Lews Therin had despised her, but Rand had known her primarily as Selene, and had been fond of her—until, at least, she tried to kill Egwene and Aviendha.
    Thinking of her made him think of Moiraine, made him hope for things he shouldn’t hope for.
    If Lanfear still lives . . . might Moiraine as well?
    He faced Moridin with calm confidence. “Loosing her is pointless, now,” Rand said. “She no longer holds any power over me.”
    “Yes,” Moridin said. “I believe you. She does not, but I do think she still harbors something of a . . . grievance with the woman you chose. What is her name again? The one who calls herself Aiel but carries weapons?”
    Rand did not rise to the attempt to rile him.
    “Mierin hates you now, anyway,” Moridin continued. “I think she blames you for what happened to her. You should call her Cyndane. She has been forbidden to use the name she took upon herself.”
    “Cyndane . . .” Rand said, trying out the word. “ ‘Last Chance’? Your master has gained humor, I see.”
    “It was not meant to be humorous,” Moridin said.
    “No, I suppose that it was not.” Rand looked at the endless landscape of dead grass and leaves. “It is hard to think that I was so afraid of you during those early days. Did you invade my dreams then, or bring me into one of these dreamshards? I was never able to figure it out.”
    Moridin said nothing.
    “I remember one time . . .” Rand said. “Sitting up by the fire, surrounded by nightmares that felt like Tel’aran’rhiod. You would not have been able to pull someone fully into the World of Dreams, yet I’m no dream-walker, able to enter on my own.”
    Moridin, like many of the Forsaken, had usually entered Tel’aran’rhiod in the flesh, which was dangerous. Some said that entering in the flesh was an evil thing, that it lost you a part of your humanity. It also made you more powerful.
    Moridin gave no clue as to what had happened on that night. Rand remembered those days faintly, traveling toward Tear. He remembered visions in the night, visions of his friends or family that would try to kill him. Moridin . . . Ishamael . . . had been pulling him against his will into dreams intersecting Tel’aran’rhiod.
    You were mad, during those days,” Rand said softly, looking into Moridin’s eyes. He could almost see the fires burning there. “You’re still mad, aren't you? You just have it contained. No one could serve him without being at least a little mad.”
    Moridin stepped forward. “Taunt as you wish, Lews Therin. The ending dawns. All will be given to the great suffocation of the Shadow, to be stretched, ripped, strangled .”
    Rand took a step forward as well, right up to Moridin. They were the same height. “You hate yourself,” Rand whispered. “I can feel it in you, Elan. Once you served him for power; now you do it because his victory—and an end to all things—is the only release you’ll ever know. You’d rather not exist than continue to be you. You must know that he will not release you. Not ever. Not you.”
    Moridin sneered. “He’ll let me kill you before this ends, Lews Therin. You, and the golden-haired one, and the Aiel woman, and the little darkhaired—”
    “You act as if this is a contest between you and me, Elan,” Rand interrupted.
    Moridin laughed, throwing his head back. “Of course it is! Haven’t you seen that yeti By the blood falls, Lews Therin! It is about us two. Just as in Ages past, over and over, we fight one another. You and I.”
    No, Rand said. “Not this time. I’m done with you. I have a greater battle to