Chapter Eleven

Rand arose from his bed as soon as Mat mentioned the message from Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. Lews Therin was speaking in his head "Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar. My wife. A message from her. She has been dead for three thousand years; she should not be sending me any form of message, unless she has been spun out of the Pattern again. Rand, my wife, she may be alive now!"

"I hope that she is, Lews. You deserve to be able to speak to her." He grabbed a sword from a rack of weaponry as he passed it, and carried it in his hand. It may all be a ruse to trick him, Rand thought. It would not surprise him.

"During the War of Power, I had several attempts made to kidnap me and turn me to the Shadow. Do you know who headed them all up? Mierin, my old lover. She thought that if she could turn me to the Shadow, we could rule the World together."

As Rand approached him, Isam stood up, and spoke to him in the Old Tongue. (I have translated this into Common for the reader's benefit.)

"Lews Therin Telamon, Lord of the Morning, Prince of the Dawn, leader of the Hundred Companions, I have a message from Ilyena Moerelle Dalisar."

"Speak then, for I know you are an ally of the Forsaken."

"Ilyena says that she has been spun out of the Pattern as the woman you knew her as, before she died by your hand. She wishes to be with her husband again. She says that she will meet you today, when the Sun is at it's highest, in the copse of tress on the hill over there." Isam pointed. "She begs that you come alone, for she wishes to discuss what your future together will be."

"Tell her I will meet her." Rand replied. "Light, Ilyena is alive, Rand, my friend. My wife is alive. Thank the Creator that he was merciful enough to let me see her again. My torment will be at an end forever now." "Go now, and make good the knowledge that if you have betrayed me, I will find you, Isam Mandragoran, and I will not be the only one who has claim on your blood." Isam bowed mockingly before he ran off.

"It shall be as my Lord Dragon commands."

"Rand, why in the name of the Creator did you let him go?" asked Lan later.

"He carried a message from someone I loved, an Age ago." He said, but it was Lews Therin's mind that was thinking it. "He knows that if he has betrayed me, that I will find him, and I will not be the only one who wants to kill him." Lan nodded gravely, and Rand spoke to him.

"Do not worry so much, my old friend. I know that Tarmon Gai'don is coming, and that we are all fearful, but you have a loving wife. If we can finally win this war, the Blight may be gone forever. You will no longer be the uncrowned king of Malkier. You can be the first in a long line of Kings, with Nynaeve as your Queen by your side. The Thousand Lakes can be cleansed and made pure again, and the Seven Towers will be rebuilt. I am sure of it. We have gone through a lot since that Winternight when you arrived in Emond's Field. Then, I thought that Baerlon was a city. Now look at me!" Lan laughed. "You are still what you were brought up to be, Rand. A Sheepherder. Maybe once this is over, you can go back to the Two Rivers and grow Tabac and herd sheep until you are old in the tooth." They both laughed, and as they both walked out of the tent, Rand turned to Lan, and said, "I thank you, for teaching me the sword" in his ear softly, and with that, he walked off to rally his fighters. Lan stood there, with the wind billowing his fancloth cloak around him. Rand al'Thor had grown up a lot since he had first met him. Maybe he had grown up too much. But he was the Dragon Reborn. He had had the safety of the World thrown at him. He needed to grow up fast, to stay alive.

But Lan's world had now been thrown into chaos. He always thought that he had been the last of the Malkieri, Aan'allien, as the Aiel called him. He was the Uncrowned King of Malkier, a land that only existed in memories. He was the Lord of the Seven Towers and the Thousand Lakes, two things that were remnants of a once great nation, now fading from the World. But Isam was still alive. He had the right to kill him. After all, if it wasn't for the ideas of Breyan and her friend Cowin "Fairheart" the Darkfriend, he may have been King. But then, he would never have met Nynaeve...His life would have been very different to how it was today if Malkier had been still standing.

Rand walked up to the small copse on top of the hill that had been pointed at by Isam. His heart was pounding faster and faster at the thought of seeing Ilyena after three thousand years. She would still be just as beautiful as she was before...before it happened.

"Before I earned the name "Kinslayer." Lews thought bitterly. As Rand reached the copse, he heard a voice.

"Lews? Lews is that you?" her voice sounded like wind chimes in a slow breeze, and Rand found himself running towards the copse, running to Ilyena.

When they reached the copse, there, standing in the centre, was Ilyena, looking as lovely as she did three thousand years ago, with her dark blonde hair, and slim figure.

"Rand! That is not Ilyena! She was a golden blonde, not a dark blonde. I think that this is a ruse by the Forsaken, and if I know any of them, it is going to be Mierin behind that Illusion."

"But Lews," Rand replied in his head, "Mierin is dead, I am sure of it, unless she has been reincarnated into a new body."

"Lews, my love, why do you not come to me? Please my love, do you not remember what times we had together, before, well, before everything changed? Before I...she was foolish enough to make the Bore."

Rand had all that he needed know, swiftly he channelled saidin, and wove air around the woman in front of him, and then he pierced the Illusion. He gasped when he saw the woman behind it. It was not Lanfear at all. It was someone completely different.