Stamped

by zabrak12

A self-insert wakes up in Rand's body on the day of Winternight, hours before the Trollocs attack. Stuck with no memories of Rand, nor his previous life, he instead has the imperfect memories of a partial reading of the series, and a mysterious stamp that appears around women. Inspired by the Waifu Catalog.

1. Chapter 1

I woke up to find myself in bed, a wool blanket over me and a fire in the hearth. A dream faded from my mind, of a crystalline flame speaking to me of strange, wondrous things, and my forehead pounded. A cloth bandage was wrapped around my skull. I must have hit my head, I thought, and simply had a strange dream.

The sun and the hearth lit the room, with its simple wooden cabinet and a metal washbasin on a wooden stand, carved with flowers and birds. The window shutters were wooden, not glass like I expected, and open to the sound of people talking and laughter that came carried by a cool breeze. The walls were white plaster, and devoid of decorations but for a wreath of red and yellow flowers and a painting of a golden field of grain under a deep blue sky.

I felt confused, knowing that I had been elsewhere before I awoke. I could not for the life of me remember where, but that it was not here. I sat up and glanced out the window, only to stare astounded. A bucolic village lay before me, with stout, strong wooden houses with thatch roofs and chimneys smoking merrily. Chicken hutches and pigpens sat behind homes, while fields and farms lay nearby, and forest carpeted the distance. The sun lay past its zenith, and had begun its journey westward. It was maybe two or three in the afternoon.

I watched from the second story of what I assumed to be an inn as women laughed and shouted, putting up a giant wood pole in a large green space with a spring and a creek running through it. Men walked on, seemingly oblivious to the pole, while children played underfoot. I did not recognize any of them but they recognized me.

"Rand al'Thor," came the shout from one woman, which froze my heart and started my head pounding. I knew that name. I did not listen to the rest of the words the woman yelled, as memories occupied my mind.

Suddenly I could remember something—too much, really, a jumbled mess—but the only memories I had were of reading a series of books, the tales of Rand al'Thor and his friends as they fought the Dark One and his servants in preparation for Tarmon Gai'dan, the apocalyptic Last Battle. I did not listen to the rest of whatever was said to me, as I realized where I was: the pole meant I was in Emond's Field, on the day of Winternight, and I was Rand al'Thor, somehow, someway.

I was the Dragon Reborn and future madman, if the books held true. I did not know whether this was some kind of mixed blessing given to Rand, to me, by the Creator—to forget who I was but know a future that could have been—or if I wasn't an amnesiac Rand but someone else, maybe a soul from a future Age? Existential questions should wrack me, I knew this intellectually. But they weren't, instead they were curiosities that were easily tossed aside to focus on the more important matters.

Faded, jumbled memories were what I had, having only read ten of the fourteen books, and only the first four with any recency. Who knew how accurate they truly were? I knew for certain, however, there was never a scene where Rand woke up in the Winespring Inn with a bandage wrapped around his head… I should be worried about that, about why I was here. I was far more worried about the actual apocalypse that was in the beginning stages of rolling out. I took a long moment to turn and scream frustration and worry into the soft pillow of goose-feathers.

The Dark One was waking up in his prison from his sealing by the male Aes Sedai. Not only that, but the Forsaken, the thirteen Aes Sedai of the Age of Legends who turned their backs on the Light, were nearly all loose, if not all loose already. My memories were unsure on that fact, but that it would soon be a moot point. Darkfriends, men and women who had sworn their undying souls to the Dark One, lurked in every corner of the Westlands, and shadowspawn gathered in greater numbers than have been seen since the Trolloc Wars. The world was preparing to end. I knew it down to my bones.

Unfortunately, on the side of the Light we had the Aes Sedai, whom the Black Ajah had gutted and turned into poison chalice diplomats that no one trusted, not even themselves. They pulled the strings of every throne on every nation, except Amadicia. They were the women who used the One Power, bound by Three Oaths; to never tell a lie, to never make a weapon, and to only use the One Power as a weapon in the last defense of their lives or their Warders or against shadowspawn. We had the dying nations of the Westlands, who were on the decline after three near-apocalyptic wars and disasters in three thousand years wiped out broad swathes of the subcontinent, and destroyed much of what survived the Breaking of the World. They squabbled amongst themselves, fighting border skirmishes and plotting, unaware of how precariously they sat, of how close the Dark One was to winning.

Then there were the two groups that were supposedly on the side of the Light. We had the Whitecloaks, a fanatical religious order of violent thugs and torturers who hated Aes Sedai and any they saw as Darkfriend, which included old women that could heal well. I would deal them with, if I am truly the Dragon Reborn. There was also the Seanchan, an invading empire from across the Aryth Ocean, descendants of Artur Hawkwing's mad venture, who enslaved any woman that naturally channels. They will get nothing from this Rand. No kneeling to the Crystal Throne for me, thanks. At least, I think that is one of the Seanchan prophecies?

I bolted upright in my bed, realizing the most important thing: Moiraine Damodred, a Sister of the Blue Ajah, was here in Emond's Field today. She needed to know, if not everything then most. As I thought about her, something strange happened. A simple stamp with the black and white teardrops of the ancient Aes Sedai symbol appeared in my hand.

That's odd, I thought to myself, before putting the stamp under the blanket when a knock on the door interrupted my examination.

The door to my room opened, and a solidly built man whose hair was mostly salt with a little pepper peered in, smiling when he saw me awake. Tam al'Thor, whispered a voice in my head.

"The Wisdom said you wouldn't wake for a day, yet here you are, sitting upright. Us al'Thor's are a stubborn lot, I reckon." He approached my bed. "How do you feel?"

I grinned weakly back. "I feel weak and my head hurts. What happened, dad? I don't remember, I just woke up."

He looked at me a little strange. "You stumbled and fell, hit your head on the cart as we walked into the village. It was not the kind of Winternight fun I expected today." He mocked playfully, though his eyes still looked worried.

"How badly did I hurt myself?" An image popped into my mind of being bedridden while Trollocs tore through the door and I shivered.

Tam snorted. "Enough that the Wisdom swore you would not wake up for at least a day. First the weather, now a head injury," He groused. "You were bleeding everywhere, but head wounds bleed freely, even minor ones. She did not claim any permanent damage, but she was waiting for you to wake before making her final determination. Now lay back in bed before the Wisdom sees you sitting up, Rand. I'll be back up later, after she does her business."

I panicked, as I only had until nightfall before everything would go wrong. I had to see Moiraine. "Wait, before you go, dad. Lady Moiraine, I need to speak with her today."

My father looked at me strangely again and his voice was lower than before. "How do you know that name?" When I didn't answer quickly, he continued. "You were out before she came near us and checked on you. She claimed to have some training and helped clean up the blood. Didn't look near as bad once she finished. Perhaps you heard it there." Probably Healed me, I thought.

I had to lie. There was no way I could tell Tam I did not even really know him, that I might not even be Rand, really. He was my father, or at least the body's father, even if it did not feel that way and I would rather not hurt him. "I had a dream, and she was important to it. I did not know she was actually real before I asked. You'll need your sword tonight, too, if that is also real. There will be an attack tonight."

He stared at me for a long minute, eyes piercing through me as if seeing me for the first time. "Aes Sedai are said to have prophetic dreams, occasionally," he suddenly said. "Or predict the future. It is an aspect of their One Power, they claim."

I nodded nervously, getting exactly what he meant. "They do, I've heard the same," I said, but 'I can channel' is what I meant. Tam was savvy enough to get it, I believed.

"Only a madman would claim the same, or a man who could channel; near enough the same, to most people. But it is best to be prepared, even if its because of a son's silly dream." He paused. "Rand," he said, staring seriously. "Would this Lady Moiraine be an Aes Sedai in your dream? Her… manservant and her countenance remind me of a woman I once knew, who advised a king."

I nodded, not saying a word. His time as a Companion, Second-in-Command, he must have met the Aes Sedai advisor to the King. Steppaenos? Stepanos? Regardless of name, a man whose crown I was fated to take. My stomach twisted at the thought. Me, a king? I wanted to laugh, or cry, at the weight of the future before me, instead I shoved those feelings down and they faded like morning mist.

He gave me a grunt. "You are walking into a wolf's den, dealing with her directly, boy. If you…" He paused, and sighed tiredly, looking every one of his fifty-something years. "She'll be the death of you, eventually. You know that right?"

I laughed a little woodenly, trying to ease the mood, both our moods. "If my dreams are right, she's just about the only Aes Sedai who won't be the death of me. I will live for years with her at my side, I promise you that. But I need to speak with her soon. Sunset at the latest, dad."

I argued more, about meeting her alone, and why I needed to see her, but Tam agreed finally. I had long examination by Nynaeve where she kept up a low tirade about stubborn men with eyes that will go blind if they were not careful—I may have accidentally eyed her face and chest a bit too much, the stamp appearing in my hand every damn time. In my defense, she was beautiful even when angry, her dusky skin and how young she looked surprised me—and she fed me horrible tasting medicines that just made me feel nauseous.

Soon after Nynaeve left, there was a knock on the door and Moiraine Damodred entered. She was a petite and beautiful woman as well, slender with waves of dark brown hair that shone in the late afternoon sunlight. Laced in her hair was a blue crystal on a chain, her kesiera, and she wore a delicately worked gold chain necklace, a golden belt wrapped around her slim waist, and a golden ring of a serpent biting its own tail. Apparently, she liked gold.

Her light blue riding dress slashed with cream and the dark blue cloak declared her Ajah for all those in the know to see, as did her face, young and beautiful with aged eyes, dark pools that pierced me like a hunting hawks stare. She was absolutely stunning, and it amazed me that being an Aes Sedai was all it took for the book Rand to change his mind about her. It would take more than her being an Aes Sedai to stop my rapidly forming crush.

The stamp dropped into my right hand and I played with it absent-mindedly, keeping my eyes on her as she walked into the room, smiling and staring right back. I blushed, and glanced behind her to see a man, as tall as I was, but broader and far more muscled. His face was flat planes hewn from stone, clean-shaven with icy blue eyes and graying hair tied back by a simple braid. His cloak shifting colors, and the dangerous way he held himself named him al'Lan Mandoragon even before the voice in my head could tell me.

"Rand al'Thor," Moiraine's musical voice rang out, the way she said my name sending shivers down my spine. "Just the young man I was hoping to see. I caught sight of your fall, and had helped with that nasty head wound of yours, so I am glad to see you awake and alert," she said with a soft smile that made me blush once more, and my heart beat faster despite knowing it was probably a ploy to get a naïve country boy into her good graces.

"Thank you, my Lady," was all I could get out, my voice cracking. I flushed even redder with embarrassment. Damn teenage body.

"I do not think I will need you for him, Lan. Rand just had a bad fall, and I can see he is in no hurry to move around," she said as she made her way to the one chair in the room and lifted it to carry it to my bedside.

Lan muttered a protest in a gravelly voice, but she shooed him out quickly, turning to smile at me once more, though her eyes were calculating. It gave me goosebumps. Or she was channeling. I did not know which and for all I knew it was both.

"Now what was it you wished to speak with me about, young man. Your father surprised me with the request. He looked worried too."

"I think you should put up a ward for this, Moiraine Damodred. I have a lot to say and it's not for any other ears but your own."

"How do you know that name?" Her voice was so suddenly cold my skin chilled… or she was channeling. She was definitely channeling. Apparently, I was too forward. I panicked a little.

"I read it in a book! I remember little of anything else, nothing of my life previous to waking up in this room, but I remember reading of a Moiraine Sedai who came to the Two Rivers looking for the Dragon Reborn." She stared at me, silent, eyes cold as the grave and I spoke more. "I know who he is, and I know the journey you would have taken with him, until your death—which I will not let happen this time! I know a lot of secrets now, Moiraine Sedai. I can name the Amyrlin Seat, Siuan Sanche, and that you hate Eladia Sedai. I am telling the truth, you must believe me."

An icy chill was still in the air. "You know things no one of the Two Rivers or even elsewhere should know and you claim you read this in a book? You should have come up with a better lie. It is much more likely you are a Darkfriend." Bonds of Air suddenly held me to the bed, pressing me down on the mattress.

'Stay calm, she cannot hurt me,' I told myself as I took deep breaths, in through my nose for a few seconds, then out through my mouth a few seconds. Twice, then three times. "I swear to you on the Light of the Creator I am telling the truth. I woke up with no memories of being Rand, but the knowledge of a series of fourteen books written about the Dragon Reborn and the events leading up to the Last Battle. Except I only have full knowledge of four, and partial knowledge of the next six and nearly nothing about the remaining books. One thing I knew once I realized who I was, was that I needed to tell you, tell you everything important. Rand al'Thor in the stories is Dragon Reborn, he was born on Dragonmount to a Fars Dareis Mar, and saved by Tam al'Thor. I am the boy you are looking for."

"With memory lost he will know himself, and take the first step on the path of daggers," quoted Moiraine, a look of surprise and awe. "I believe you now, Rand, I just had to make sure. There would be some that claim this evidence of the Creator's Hand plucking the strings of the Pattern. I count it as simply lucky you remember something. I saw your wound, and it was quite bad before I Healed what I could. Some would call it good fortune the Wheel wove me here, on this day."

The bonds released, and like nothing had ever happened she pulled out a notebook from somewhere and dipped a pen in ink, and began taking notes. "Now, tell me everything you 'read'. I must know as much as possible if I am to make new plans for you."

Moiraine seemed surprisingly accepting of me and I wondered why aloud, as I rubbed my arms where the bonds had bit into the skin. She looked at me as if I were a small child, asking an elder a silly question. It worked despite her young face, as pretty as Nynaeve and somehow even younger-looking, despite her forty-something years. The Oath Rod did a hell of a job. The stamp fell into my hand.

"You fulfilled a line of prophecy right in front of me, Rand. You knew who I was, why I was here and the name of multiple Aes Sedai you should have no knowledge of. You are the Dragon Reborn, and it is as simple, and significant, as that. Now, may we begin the recitation of these books? Tell me as much detail as you can."

So I told her. I spent an hour telling her of our fleeing the Two Rivers, Shadar Logoth and the road to Caemlyn, Perrin's golden eyes and the Ways, and Fal Dara to the Eye of the World. That Padan Fain and Darkfriends would steal the Horn of Valere. I told her of Shienaran escorts, beautiful Forsaken and portalstones, Cairhein and her uncle, the Black Ajah and the Seanchan invaders from beyond the sea. She stopped me there, as I finished describing a second battle for the Forsaken Ba'alzamon.

"That is… more than enough Rand. You have given me much to think about. Too much, even and we are only two of these books deep. To think the Forsaken all released… I must alert Lan and prepare for this evening. We will have much to speak of once we have found and secured the Eye of the World. Fal Dara seems a good place to rest and recover, and to make plans. We must move quicker than I ever imagined. Your knowledge is a true blessing of the Light, Rand al'Thor."

And just like that she had decided. We would flee the Two Rivers after fending off the Trolloc attack, try to avoid Shadar Logoth if possible, make our way to Caemlyn and find Loial the Ogier, and take the Ways to Fal Dara, but hopefully making the whole trip as a group and if not, meeting in the Queen's Blessing in Caemlyn. I agreed easily enough, for what else could I do?

Things were quiet in my room, as I thought. My father came to visit me briefly but quickly left, sword belted on his hip, quietly preparing men he could trust to be ready for a bandit attack. I felt a little bad for not telling him it was shadowspawn, but I did not know if he would believe me then. If I could channel tonight, I could kill the Myrddraal and wipe out a fist of Trollocs, clearing the way for an easier way out. That, strangely enough, did not scare me out of my mind. Worried, but not trouser-filling terrified. What actually scared me was the taint on saidin, the metaphysical rot that would decay my mind and body until I turned rotten and mad as a hatter. Every time I channeled I would let it inside of me, but I needed to learn how to channel sooner rather than later, as within a month or two I would be fighting at least one Forsaken.

The Flame and the Void seemed simple, but was much harder in practice. I had some muscle memory of it, some leftover residue of Rand, maybe? I was more and more certain I wasn't truly Rand, but someone else in his body. It still took me minutes to achieve the Oneness, as the Forsaken Lanfear called it, that clean, crisp connection with everything around me, aware of all of it and how it related to me. In the Void of my mind, occasional thoughts skittered like spiders and I squashed as swiftly and methodically. There was a glow in the Void, a distant beautiful light that shown, radiating power. I took all of my focus, my will and I reached for that glow.

I failed, and the Void melted like snow in summer.

Once I was One with the Void reached for it again, angrier this time. I failed and lost the Void.

Achieving Oneness, I reached a third time, and I wrestled with a river of fire—as bright as the sun and as cold as a glacier at the top of the world—that seemed to freeze my bones and burn my skin. I ripped and tore at it, pulling it into myself and under my command until it flowed inside me. I felt the Taint then, the sickly oil that felt as if it coated the inside of my soul, a rotten smell in the perfume of saidin. It made me want to throw up as much as the power flowing through my veins made me want to shout with joy. I finally understood Rand's reluctance to continue channeling early in the books. I took a moment to pray to the Creator that I would figure out a swifter way to cleanse saidin, before Lews Therin could get to me. The idea of sharing my mind with the man who Broke the World… I shuddered under my blankets.

There truly was no describing how much more channeling saidin is, how much color and life and feeling it brings. I giggled, turning into a full-blown guffaw. The Void was gone, and I simply felt for a long moment, until the stomach roiled uncertainly at the taint. A minute later, after the sick feeling became unbearable, I released the One Power reluctantly, and it felt like my lifeblood leaving me, the world turning dull and gray. I kept practicing.

It had gotten late by the time I managed seized saidin thrice in a row, the night lit by torchlight as people merrily called out and exchanged gifts. I finally noticed how cold the air was, and it was when I went to close the shutters that I saw shapes moving on the edge of the town and in the dark between homes, big shapes. There was a sudden barking of dogs over the holiday cheer. A torch lit up in the shadows near the Luhhan smithy, revealing a beak-mouthed, feather-pocked face of a Trolloc. I could only stare, surprised and horrified, as the Trolloc threw the torch onto the roof, the thatch catching alight easily.

For the next minute, Lan called out into the night warning of shadowspawn, and people crowding the streets of Winternight screamed and shouted. I could hear men gathering in front of the Winespring, my father's voice clear over the noise. The Trolloc attack was really happening. It was all true.

I stood up and stumbled across the room, suddenly light-headed, my vision turning silver. I leaned against the carved wooden stand, steadying myself. When I could focus again, I heard my father's voice through the shutters, loud and authoritative, exhorting the Emond's Fielders to fight for their homes. The sound of weapons meeting, of metal on metal, bled into the night.

I slowly made my way downstairs—hand gripping the bannister tightly—and a woman my mind helpfully identify as Mistress al'Vere took one look at me and said, "No way you are going out there, Rand al'Thor, out into that fighting. I see that look in your eye. I saw it in Tam's earlier, and my husband, Light preserve him."

I frowned, annoyed I did not see this coming. Of course she wasn't just going to let me go out into the night. I may be nineteen now, but I was still mostly a child in women's eyes. I had to get out there, though, and kill the Myrddraal and its Trollocs, otherwise they would hunt us for weeks, maybe kill us, or worse.

"I was just going to grab my bow, take easy shots. They need everyone they can get out there."

"There's an Aes Sedai out there, young man, and plenty of men with weapons. Emond's Field is not going anywhere tonight. Her and her Warder will take care of the men. Your father and the other men will be fine."

The common room, filled with mothers and children and teenagers—the teenage boys looked sullenly out windows—erupted in shock when she mentioned the Aes Sedai. Mistress al'Vere ignored them, giving me a glare and a swift grab I barely dodged as I continued moving downstairs and towards the front.

"I can help and I will help. For Light's sake I'll shoot out a window, Mistress al'Vere." I lied, calling out as I reached the entrance and suddenly raced outside, getting a more than a little dizzy when I took the corner round to the stables, stopping to take a breath. The sound of crackling fires and steel clashing filled the night air, as did the occasional thunderclap and a blue-white flash. The sounds were moving closer to the inn. The Trollocs are pushing them back, I thought fearfully.

I finished making my way through the stable over to where Bela was, and rummaged around her stall to find a longbow and a quiver. A voice from behind startled me.

"Rand, I cannot believe you disobeyed my mother! What are you thinking?" Egwene al'Vere was the name of the pretty young woman, with light brown hair and eyes, that approached me in the stables. The stamp dropped into my hand once more but I pocketed it with some annoyance.

"If the Fade dies, the Trollocs die with it, Egwene. I have to do something." I answered truthfully, mindlessly stringing my bow and belting my quiver, following my muscle memory, letting the body do the work.

She was astonished and then suspicious. "Is that true? Where did you read that? It's not some fool notion you made up to play at hero, is it?"

I turned and began to leave the stables. "A book called The Eye of the World. And I'm not 'playing' at hero." I was the damn hero, whether I liked it or not, and this Rand will not run from his destiny.

"I have not read that one yet, or even heard of it. Are you certain its true?" She followed close behind, curiosity in her voice.

I laughed, a little bitter, counting the arrows in my quiver. Fifteen. "No, no, you have not. And I am certain. If the Fade dies, the Trollocs will die too. They are connected, somehow."

That annoyed her, and she frowned at me. "You think you can just shoot a Fade and kill it?" she asked, a little snippy.

"Nope, but I can distract it so the Warder kills it!" I said with false cheer. "Everyone else will be focusing on the Trollocs. I can certainly take some out as well, but the Fade needs to die."

The fighting had pushed closer to the inn as we spoke, and I floated in the Void once more, finding peace and focus. I was one with my bow and with my arrow, each released into the head of a Trolloc. Egwene watched, amazed, forgetting all about making me return. I kept firing as I scanned the battle, arrows through the neck and skull ending the horrid lives of the beastmen.

The villagers fought with wood axe and hunting spear and rusty sword, pitchfork, scythe, iron-capped quarterstaff, and even hoe. The men of the Two Rivers were not to be trifled with even as ill-equipped as they were, leaving dead and wounded Trollocs scattered in the street. My father led them with his Power-wrought sword, fighting side-by-side with the Mayor, who wielded a massive boar-spear and wore rusty chain mail that must be a century old. Despite their success, there were over a hundred Trollocs in a fist and I saw a good fifty-something still alive, and men kept getting wounded. Two more arrows, one through the bulbous eyes of a goatman that loomed over Tam, and one through the neck a boarman with wicked tusks that rushed Master al'Vere.

Women were moving the wounded into safe homes behind the line of men, getting them out of the way of battle, the Wisdom Nynaeve attending to the most dire injuries just behind the battle line. It was a display of cooperation and confidence that I had not expected, but should have. Moiraine Sedai stood behind the battle line as well, casting lightning down on the shadowspawn, killing and wounding three or four at a time. She looked as regal and calm as a queen while she surveyed the battlefield, angreal in one hand, her staff carved with intricate vines in the other. Three arrows through the throats of roaring Trollocs.

Beyond the Trollocs and the villagers, Lan battled the Myrddraal. Their swords met with a spray of blue sparks, the shadowspawn bending and weaving and twisting this way and that, blocking attacks and making wild swings that Lan always managed to block. Three arrows sent at the Fade, who took precious movements to dodge them, and Lan scored a hit, cutting a furrow through the Halfman's chest plate. I could hear Egwene's shout of surprise near me, but I paid her no mind, entirely focused. The next twenty seconds I released another four arrows that the Fade dodged, blocking Lan's attacks of opportunity. I had to do something more, and I knew what was needed.

Ignoring any who were watching, I grasped for saidin and seized it, feeling the taint as much as the life that flowed into me. From that river of Power that ran through me, I grasped the heat and shoved a thread of Fire towards the shadowspawn. An arc of flame, spear-like, shot from my hand over the heads of villagers and Trollocs alike, hopefully unseen in the desperate struggle. If the women and injured saw me, I did not know, for my focus was entirely on the Myrddraal as it danced blades with Lan, shimmering blue sparks filling the air. My flame followed the dance, jerking this way and that in the brief seconds it was in the air, before engulfing the shadowspawn in a gout of fire.

Lan moved as swift as the wind, first one arm, then the next, falling uselessly on the road, twitching as they still burned. Then a decapitation strike, as the Myrddraal stood in shock, wreathed in flame. Its head bounced along the road and every Trolloc collapsed on the ground, their death cries filling the air. I released saidin reluctantly, feeling the life it gave me recede like the tide, the world turning poor and gray. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit me and I collapsed to my knees, black spots filling my vision as I passed out.

Egwene al'Vere stared with fear in her eyes at Rand as he collapsed on the ground.

He channeled that fire, Light he channeled that fire. It was the only thought she had for a long minute, ignoring the outside world.

Shaking her head, Egwene glanced around to make sure nobody had seen. People were either sitting tired, on the ground, still assisting the injured, or celebrating, especially around the Aes Sedai, women hugging her, healed men cheering the Aes Sedai for her success. The same Aes Sedai who gazed at Rand from a dozen paces away. Egwene shivered.

The Aes Sedai saw, and she will gentle Rand… A sudden pang of deep sadness filled her heart and she finally rushed over to help Rand. She may gentle Rand, but I won't let him die. They say gentled men always die of sadness, of losing the One Power, but I won't let that stubborn ox die, she thought fiercely, her heart swelling.

It took her some time to drag his tall body over to the open door of the Inn, lifting him up by the armpits. No one seemed to notice her, or they ignored her. She could not tell which. The village men were busy dragging Trolloc bodies to the Green where bonfires lay waiting, under the direction of the Mayor, while the Aes Sedai and the Wisdom had the women busy attending to every injury, the tears and shouts of joy accompanying wherever the Aes Sedai visited. Her mother met her at the door, a look of fury on her face abating when she saw how bedraggled the two looked, and she quietly helped Egwene with Rand, into the Winespring Inn and up the stairs to Rand's sickroom, passing by curious eyes in the common room.

"What in the Creator's name were you thinking, Egwene?" is what Marin al'Vere finally asked after they undressed the young man to his underclothes—not that Egwene blushed or peeked, mind you!—and had him snug under covers. Egwene sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her thoughts. Her mother took the chair, and waited, somewhat impatiently.

"It was like he was on a quest. He knew, mother, he knew if the Fade died the Trollocs would too, just like they did! He strung his bow, and he walked straight back out, to the side of the Inn, enough to see the battle by then. And surely as you can pluck an apple from the Old Man Farin's orchard, he killed Trolloc after Trolloc without a second's hesitation, even though he had fallen just this morning." Awe filled her voice. "He was like a hero, implacable, standing his ground and killing the servants of the Dark One." Egwene blushed. Rand truly had been a hero, even when he… Her mind shied away from the thought, from what she had seen. Flame, coming out of his hand. Light, Rand, where you even thinking?

Her mother smiled at her ruefully. "You've seen Tam do much the same thing with targets every Bel Tine and Sunday, and any other feast day he can. Though you may be too young to remember the time he convinced the Congar's to hold the targets for him, after they bet him he couldn't. Even when they started running in fright, Tam al'Thor nailed every shot to the center of the target. That man, and his boy too. They're something different, Egwene. They've got old blood in them." Marin sighed. "Man like that needs a wife, but he's too stubborn. Him and Kari, they had a strong love."

Egwene was uncomfortable now. She did not know whether to tell her mother, but she must tell someone, before the Aes Sedai gentled Rand. He saved the village, tonight. He deserves some good to come out of his curse, she thought.

"Mother, there is one other thing. The Fade burned as the Warder killed it, but it was not the Aes Sedai's fire. It was Rand's…" Tears spring to her eyes. "Light burn him, the fool channeled in front of everyone, not caring if they saw, just to save the village. And the Aes Sedai saw! She saw! He'll be gentled, and then he'll want to die," she could not help wailing.

Marin al'Vere looked disturbed at the revelation, glancing quickly at Rand before meeting Egwene's eyes. Egwene could see the fear in them. "I'm scared too, mother, but he'll be safe soon, he isn't mad yet and the Aes Sedai will make sure he never is!" Her voice is fierce with conviction. She had to believe this.

The door opened without a knock, and the Aes Sedai stepped in, closing it behind her without touching it. Egwene shivered. Even with ash and blood and the Creator know what else on her singed and torn blue riding dress, she looked as calm and collected as a lady in court approaching the bedside of a man that could channel.

"Mistress al'Vere, young Egwene. I could not help but overhear your topic of conversation. It is one you should take care to not speak too loudly of. You are correct, he is not mad. And hopefully he will not be for a long while yet."

Hope bloomed in Egwene's heart, even as fear made itself known to her. The Aes Sedai came as soon as she could. She saw. Bravely, she asked the question. "Do you… do you gentle him here, or in Tar Valon?"

Amusement sparkled in Moiraine Sedai's eyes, but her tone was quite serious. "Only Reds are cruel enough to gentle a man in his own village. Rand will accompany me to Tar Valon, as will you, Egwene al'Vere. We have a long journey ahead of us, arduous and taxing."

Her mother gasped, her look of confusion turning to realization, with joy and sadness, intertwined. "She can… You really think she can become an Aes Sedai?"

There was a conviction in Moiraine's voice that Egwene did not expect, that buoyed her. Me? An Aes Sedai?

"I know she can become a great Aes Sedai, even the Amyrlin Seat if she works hard enough. And to leave her here, instead of taking her with me, would be a grave disservice to you and her. She is close to touching the True Source, an ordeal only one woman in four survives. I must take her and train her on our journey, to ensure she survives and thrives, Mistress al'Vere."

Marin al'Vere was shocked, and suddenly worried. "My other daughters, do any of them have the ability, are any of them in danger?"

"No," soothed Moiraine, "your daughter is the only one who can channel naturally without training. Your daughters could learn, most likely, and likely will be quite powerful as well. I would have to test them, but the White Tower always wants more Sisters."

"No, no. If they are safe, then they can stay home. Did you sense any other girls?"

Her mother's words sounded final, and it pained Egwene a bit that her mother gave her up to the Aes Sedai so easily. And yet, this was the start of an adventure, a tale of her own! Our village, attacked by minions of the Dark One, rescued by an Aes Sedai and her Warder, and assisted by an honorable young man who can unfortunately channel. And then the Aes Sedai finds a young woman who can also channel and takes her away to meet her destiny. Maybe Rand will become my Warder? That's it! Rand will become by Warder and I will fill the hole left behind by the gentling. Egwene was giddy, smiling to herself as the Aes Sedai and her mother spoke more, thinking upon the adventures she and Rand would surely have together, happy and in love.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of acrid smoke that sent me coughing. My body ached, but I felt energized, awake. I was not alone in my room for Moiraine Sedai sat composing a letter on a writing stand, right next to me bed. I glanced down to see that strange stamp, the one with the ancient Aes Sedai symbol, in my hand again. The windows were open, letting in cold air and the horrid smell. I sat up and leaned over to close the shutters.

"You ran a fever last night. I Healed you once again." Moiraine said, not looking up. Her voice was melodious and cool, like a soft rain. "The young Egwene is quite certain I am going to gentle you. I was not silly enough to imply otherwise in front of her mother, but let me make this clear to you on no uncertain terms before we start on our journey: I will not gentle you. I will never gentle you, nor take part in the gentling of you, Rand al'Thor, Dragon Reborn."

I nodded, smiling, feeling the genuine assurance in her words. It made me feel warm. "I know. I trust you, as silly as that is to most people. The books showed me you were only trying to help, that half your machinations were because the book Rand was so paranoid about being controlled. I don't want to be a puppet, but I would not mind being a partner." I doubted how much of a partner, but if I was going to be controlled by a woman, Moiraine Sedai was by far the least terrible of my options as far as Aes Sedai went. And, I sighed to myself, she was beautiful.

"Then as a partner, may I ask what exactly were you thinking when you channeled in front of half the village?" She spoke in a clipped manner and seemed to hold back the anger bright and obvious. It surprised me to see any obvious emotion but cool calm, and my brain fumbled.

"Um.. I was uh… I was going to leave, anyway? And it mattered more that the Myrddraal died, unable to follow us, then if some people know I can channel?" I finally offered.

"And when rumor spreads of a young man who can channel, who saved a village from shadowspawn, who do you think will come investigate those rumors? My Red Sisters, who will find that I spirited you away, and since we will not actually be returning to Tar Valon soon, most likely…." She trailed off, giving me a troubled look.

I… had not considered that.

I continued the thought with what I knew. "They will assume you have taken away a man who can channel for some nefarious reason, given your Blue nature and the conflict between your Ajahs. Or by then they will have heard my claims as Dragon Reborn and consider this some kind of False Dragon you are propping up, that maybe even the Amyrlin is a part of." I grew horrified at my careless action. "They'll scour the Two Rivers for other men who can channel and general cause sadness and hurt, since a bunch of them are Black Ajah." My stomach twisted, and I shuddered. I had potentially brought Black Ajah to my home, just because I thought it would not matter, that I would be gone soon enough.

Moiraine stared at me for a while, eyes piercing. "Yes," she finally said. "That. We will discuss everything you know about them."

"Not much!" I warned. "But enough, I think. If things are the same as the books, of course."

"The same rumors could bring Whitecloaks just as easily," Moiraine warned.

I groaned. "And that's not counting on the fact Whitecloaks are almost guaranteed to come once they learn I'm from the Two Rivers. You should warn my father and the Mayor of the dangers they face, maybe encourage them to build a palisade at least?"

I remembered something else. "And the Trollocs, they came from a Waygate in the Misty Mountains, if I remember correctly, but we won't be able to find it without an Ogier." That was something I would fix after I dealt with the Eye of the World, and I figured out how Skimming worked.

Moiraine lips pursed in frustration but said nothing, opening her notebook once more.

"Did Lan kill Padan Fain?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"…No. He was gone by the time Lan checked on the Peddler's wagon. No one saw him leave."

"Damnit. That's a shame. We'll have to catch him in Baerlon. He cannot live to enter Shadar Logoth, he becomes something even more evil otherwise." I did not want Padan Fain leading Whitecloak torturers and more shadowspawn into the Two Rivers. I did not want him to touch any part of my life as much as possible. The sooner dead the better. At least that is something I can do to help the Two Rivers.

"I remember, Rand. You told me last night. Now, you have friends to see you. I recommend explaining that you've had some memory loss from the fall, the Wisdom will back you up if they question it, such injuries do cause these types of loss. It will help explain a change in personality as well, if they notice. Your sweetheart seemed to find you much the same. Stubborn, foolish, kind-hearted."

My cheeks warmed. "She's the old Rand's sweetheart and she wasn't even fated for him, nor, probably, for me. I don't even really know her," I grumbled. She raised an eyebrow. "Fine, okay, I can do that."

She stood, and gracefully glided to the door, opening it with nary a wasted movement. A twinkle-eyed lanky young man with brown hair to his collar swaggered in, my mind helpfully identifying him as Mat Cauthon. Behind him stood a taller young man, though not as tall as I, thought far broader across the shoulders and muscled like an ox. Perrin Aybara.

I smiled sadly at the two young men. "I remember your names, you're Mat and you're Perrin, but I'm afraid the fall took away a lot of my memory, but for some books I've read, as silly as that is. I know you're my friends but I cannot remember but that we did pranks and hunted together. That we were the closest to each other."

Mat smile is a little wooden. "Light, Rand. I knew you fell and hit your head, but you really lost so much? At least you remember us!" He nudged Perrin.

"I heard you were fighting out there. Master Luhhan would not let me join him, made me protect the smithy. Mistress Luhhan killed a couple with a frying pan, but I only got one," Perrin rumbled, sounding disappointed.

"I just used my bow, and the Flame and the Void. Made some good shots."

Moiraine, who had stood silently near the door, spoke up. "Do not let him fool you, every shot he placed last night was a dead Trolloc. Rand is a powerful bowman, and saved lives last night."

Mat looked at me with wide eyes. "Burn me, Rand. You were really out there amongst those awful stinking Trollocs? Da said there was going to be bandits, so we were over at the Dowtry's since they have more menfolk and the room. Old Man Buel had the same idea as you and shot his bow at any Trollocs that came round. Wouldn't let me touch one but Elam and Jonneth got to use a bow too."

"I had to do something. I thought I would put some arrows in the Trollocs, and the Fade too. Make sure the Warder could kill it, so the Trollocs would die."

"How did you even know that would happen?" asked a confused Perrin.

"I read it in a book," I told them, truthfully.

Mat bent over laughing, letting out a belly-aching guffaw. We stared as he stood straight, wiping tears from his eyes. "Of course Rand read it in a book, and thought, 'I can kill a Fade, I've got a bow and arrows.' Light Rand, Egwene was right. You really can be a fool." His face adopted a more serious mein, though, the last of the laughter dying abruptly, and he frowned. "You did not kill it, because the Aes Sedai did. Only an Aes Sedai could. Or so everyone is saying. But my sisters told me something this morning, Rand. Something disturbing. They said someone saw the fire come from you."

Perrin shuffled uncomfortably, his voice low. "Mistress Luhhan told me the same thing, said I wasn't to visit you." He glanced around as if Mistress Luhhan would burst through the walls, having caught Perrin red-handed. He continued speaking in a slow rumble. "But even if you did… do what they say you did, you saved the village. You killed the Fade, and the Trollocs dropped dead. That's what everyone is saying, they just dropped dead like someone cut their puppet strings, even the ones that were setting fires and not fighting. That has to count for something, in my eyes."

Mat squirmed, looking at me as I said nothing, my face flat, my stomach roiling. I should have expected this. I was an idiot last night, a fool, wool-headed and ox-brained. "Blood and ashes Rand, just tell us the truth. We won't run in fear, we're men now. I brained a Trolloc with my quarterstaff when Jonneth missed a shot, and Perrin killed one with a blacksmith's hammer. We're men now, Rand." His voice tried to sound confident.

"I channeled." I said. "I channeled because I knew if I did not, the Fade would get away. It would follow us as we left the Two Rivers, chasing us for days and weeks. Because the Fade sought me, sought you two, sought us. Moiraine Sedai said so."

She spoke up once more, startling Mat and Perrin, who suddenly looked horrified, having forgotten she was in the room. "Rand is correct. I am uncertain, but based on evidence I believe Trollocs first sought the al'Thor farm, and finding it empty, they came to the village and targeted the smithy and the Cauthon house next. Most other houses burned seem random, but they sought young men of a certain age just like I seek them. There is prophecy abound, children, and you three are right in the middle of it. You three are ta'veren, the Pattern ripples and whirls around you. You cannot stay here and hope to survive. If the Shadow traveled this far once to get you, they will travel this far again, and I will not be here to save you all."

Mat and Perrin looked shocked, almost disbelieving. "Aes Sedai cannot lie, they can twist the truth to make it dance." Moiraine gave me a frown, but it was true. "But they cannot lie," I reminded them.

"Light burn me, Aes Sedai or Trollocs. Not much of a choice, really. Not much of a choice." Mat looked resigned, and glared at me a bit, as if I forced him into this.

Perrin looked worried. "You are certain, Moiraine Sedai, that they sought us?"

"I am absolutely certain. There is no other thought in my mind. They sought you, to capture or kill. A whole fist of Trollocs, over a hundred of the beastly creatures, came down on the village. That sort of thing only happens in the Borderlands and rarely at that to a village of this size. You three are important to the Dark One, and that is why I must spirit you away, eventually to Tar Valon."

"It is the only choice we have," I told the others. "You can trust Moiraine Sedai to see to our safety. I know she will do her best for us." As much as that's worth against fists of Trollocs and Forsaken.

They filled the next hours with preparations, as I hid in my room, unwilling to brave the stares and whispers that are sure to follow me. If Mat and Perrin knew, everyone knew. Egwene was next, stalking into the room.

"Rand al'Thor, you stubborn wool-headed lummox, why did you not tell me about your memories?" She crossed her arms beneath her chest, looming over me despite her height. She looked pretty, in an angry way. The stamp dropped into my hand, and I absently tucked it under my blanket.

"Because the memories I have are mad, baffling, and bizarre Egwene. They're insane and I have to believe them because they started coming true."

"What do you mean mad?" She looked worried and glanced at the door behind her, as if making sure it was still there.

"I have memories of reading books about Rand al'Thor and his adventures in fighting the Dark One," I said seriously. It was an absurd sentence to say aloud, but the truth. I still didn't really know what to think of it, other than it was both useful and bizarre.

Egwene laughed, giving me an incredulous look, which was cut short by my glare. "I truly remember nothing of my past, but I can tell you what my and your future could have been. I think my memories have something to do with the One Power, like a Foretelling, the prophecies Aes Sedai give."

"You're serious? What's one thing about me then," she said, with a teasing grin to cover her discomfort at the mention of a man channeling.

I thought for a second and found an easy one. "You'll become an Aes Sedai, a Green Sister."

"Moiraine told you she was going take me to the White Tower," Egwene accused.

"She did not, the memories did, Egwene," I explained to her frowning face. "Fine, you want to know something else?"

"Yes, tell me about us. When do we marry? When do I bond you?" She sounded excited.

I grimaced, and my stomach dropped. Softly, carefully, I said "Egwene… You don't marry or bond me. You bond and marry another." She look horrified. "It's fine, it's fine. I expect it now," I said, placatingly.

"Rand… Light… is it because of who you were, that this Egwene did not marry you? She is not me."

"We both… we both drifted apart, and loved each other like siblings. We married different people."

"That doesn't mean it will happen to us. This.. this.. this.. future you saw is not our future, right?" She sounded desperate.

"This future I read of was one where I didn't hit my head, and there wasn't a.. well. It was one where I didn't hit my head, but almost everything else is the same, except what I changed by killing the Fade. We're at the start of a wild and dangerous adventure, Egwene, and I want to experience it with you as good friends. I can't give you anything else right now. I truly don't remember you but for the words of a future you. The boy you love is gone, and I'm what is left. I am sorry."

That upset her greatly and she soon left the room, a look of horrified confusion on her face. I think I messed that up, I thought stupidly. I know I did, but it was the truth. Better for everyone to consider me a new Rand. Still, I could have handled that much better.

My father didn't visit until later in the day, though I heard his voice often enough downstairs. He still belted his sword to his side. I guess he had been working, patrolling around the village or something suitably martial.

He started in with nary a hello. "The Aes Sedai told me you don't actually remember much. That you were faking and relying on cues from us to act normal." Tam looked tired. He looked old. I swore his hair was grayer than before. "She also told me you channeled, everyone told me you channeled, and that she will take you to Tar Valon as soon as she can. That the Dark One seeks you and your friends, and that you must leave. And that I must stay, to guard this village, this land, from those who seek to harm it. She charged me to defend it from Trollocs and Whitecloaks and Red Aes Sedai." His words sounded bitter. "While my son, who can barely remember anything, goes off to be gentled by those same Red Aes Sedai."

Guilt wracked me. I'm sorry, I cannot explain everything yet. You would want to come along, and I don't even know you. Sorry your son is selfish.

"I'm sorry. I knew you were my dad, but I did not know how you would react if I told you I did not really remember you. Trust me, that you need to watch out for all three."

"And there's that strange word. Dad. I'm your Da, boy. Or your father. Not your dad," he emphasizes.

"Sorry, Da, that was just the word that came to mind when I thought father, but casual. My minds pretty messed up right now, huh?"

He didn't answer, instead he approached the bedside, and took me into a deep hug for a long minute. I embraced him back. I may not know him well, but he is my father. He's the one that raised me, even if I was not born of him, or remember it. I would take comfort from him while I still could. "You saved Emond's Field, you did. Warning the Aes Sedai, burning that Fade. You're a hero. Never forget that, even when… Be sure to pay attention to your dreams, Rand. I will not have you dying out there, in the wide world."

Coming from him, it seemed even greater. He was a former Companion of the King of Illian, a blademaster with a Power-wrought sword who fought and survived the Aiel Wars, three years of bloody, brutal battle. If he thought I was a hero, then I was, even if I was a fool. I squeezed him back. "I will survive and return, father. I promise."