Chapter Seven
Rand and the others made their way back to the camp in a frenzy. By this time, Perrin was up on his feet and running ahead with Elyas, smelling the myriad of scents ahead of them.
"There are Trollocs and Myrddraal here. Hundreds of them. We may be facing about five hundred Myrddraal and their fists, so about fifty to one hundred thousand Trollocs."
Rand gritted his teeth. "The Dark One has sent them as a tester for us, to see if we are strong and prepared enough for Tarmon Gai'don. We'll show the bloody Dark One that we're ready!" He started running through the camp, shouting out orders to the commanders of his army, so that they could prepare their troops. When he got to the Commanders tent, he started yelling out orders.
"Mat, go and tell the heads of your wife's army to prepare themselves, then get your weapons ready! Egwene, go and ready the Aes Sedai. Logain, tell the Asha'man to get ready to be used in the way that they were originally formed to do. Loial, start to head up the Ogier. Gareth, will you go and prepare the humans. Elyas, Perrin, you no what to do. Aviendha and Gaul, will you tell the Wise Ones and the Aiel what is about to happen please. I do no want anyone standing around here by the time I have counted to five. GO!"
Everyone ran off to get his or her armies readied. Rand donned his short-sleeved coat, so that the Dragons stood out on his forearms. He belted a sword onto his waist, and fingered the fat green man in his pocket. It was a male angreal, and with it, he would feel like he had the upper hand in the Battle against anyone who could channel.
He sat down on a chair and thought about what he had gone through to get here. How many people had he met? How many people had died because of him? He still kept the list of women that had died for him in his head, and he still repeated it to himself at night. How many people would die for him today? Gareth Bryne, who said that the army was ready, and waiting for the general, jolted him out of his musings. That general was Rand al'Thor. The Dragon Reborn, the car'a'carn, the coramoor, the Lord of the Morning, the Prince of the Dawn. The champion of the Light. The World rested on his shoulders. He just hoped that his shoulders wouldn't give way under the weight. He rode up to the army of his horse, Sun Dance, and he shouted to the army of men and Ogier that faced him.
"As you all know, I am the Dragon Reborn, and I am fated to die sometime, on Shayol Ghul. None of you have to be here, if you do not want to be, and if you leave, I will not condemn you. But if you stay, then I will praise you all first to the Creator, before I ask for my soul to be spared," Rand looked among the faces of the men. Some were too young to be really picking up a spear, and there were men with so much white in their hair, that they should not have been fighting since the Aiel War. "I have prayed to the Creator for us to win this battle today. Let us hope he has heard us!" With that, Rand turned his horse around, and turned to face the enemy ahead of him.