Lews put down his fork on the plate and took a sip of spiced wine. They were all sitting in the private dining room of the Stag and Lion inn in Baerlon, having just enjoyed a surprisingly delicious meal given the circumstances. The bath before dinner had loosened stiff joints and put him in a good mood. Lan had been in the common room, gathering news about the war in Ghealdan and the so-called False Dragon. Apparently, Tar Valon had sent a delegation of sisters to capture and still him, but there were mixed opinions on their success. Female Aes Sedai opposing males, it's like the Fateful concord all over again, division playing right into the Shadow's hands. Thom was supposed to perform in the common room later, but Lews was far too tired to join. He and Lan went up to the room they shared with the gleeman. The bed was far more comfortable than the wagon, and it didn't take long before he fell asleep to the muffled sounds of revelry from the common room below.
Suddenly, he was standing in a long stone corridor. Strange, it looks like Tel'aran'rhiod. He walked down the corridor until he came to a door that he opened. Lews stepped into a stone room—with odd angles and curves—that had pillars seemingly growing out of the floor. A large open fireplace with huge blazing flames—giving off no heat—dominated the room. A man he hadn't noticed at first suddenly stood there, dressed in fine, dark clothes. Ishamael, Lews would recognize him anywhere. When he opened his mouth, flames flickered there and in his eyes. Best if he doesn't recognize me. Lews took a step back and tried to look frightened, which wasn't hard since he couldn't channel the One Power. "You can't escape, so there's no point in trying," Ishamael said harshly before continuing, "You seem thirsty, here, have a drink," he gestured to a table where a beautiful golden cup encrusted with gems now stood. Lews suddenly felt extremely thirsty but knew he had to visualize the opposite in his mind. "N..no, I..I'm n..not, but thank you," he stammered carefully. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked obsequiously. "Some call me Ba'alzamon," … "Are you the one I seek? You can't hide it from me, you can't even hide yourself from me," he continued abruptly. "Do you think you'll gain glory? Or power? Have they told you that the Eye of the World will serve you? You're just a puppet." Lews thought frantically. How can I leave this without seeming too knowledgeable? "The Aes Sedai will use you as they did with Davian, Yurian Stonebow, Guaire Amalasan, and Raolin Darksbane. Just like they are using Logain. Used until there's nothing left of you." It was quiet for a long moment before Lews muttered, "This is just a dream." "So you think you're safe because of that? Look here." Ishamael gestured toward the table—the cup was gone—now a large rat lay there instead. Ishamael moved his fingers and the rat made various movements, he played with the rat for a while, forcing it into uncomfortable positions before finally breaking its back. "Anything can happen in a dream," Ishamael muttered before pointing his finger at Lews and bending it; immediately, he felt intense pain. He sought the void and tried to imagine the pain wasn't real; it diminished, and he discovered he was no longer alone in the void, the seductive light of Saidin once again keeping him company. He woke up sweaty, feeling tears running down his cheeks, overwhelmed by euphoria as the tears continued to flow. Without thinking, he slipped into the void and tried to seize Saidin, fumbling a few times before finally grasping it. The Power rushed into him, a wonderful sensation, but then he felt it, a nasty oily slick that tainted Saidin, making him nauseous. So that's the taint. Disgusting, it must be cleansed.
He lay for a long time with mixed feelings and thoughts before falling asleep again. Lews woke up, sun rays falling across his face and sat up with a start. Ishamael, he's looking for someone, and he thinks it's either me, Mat, or Perrin. It seems very likely that he's searching for me, but how could he even know I exist? He must have been searching for Rand, not me. Lan and Thom had already left the room. He dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen to get something to eat. Bread, cheese, and milk made up his breakfast. The innkeeper mentioned that everyone else had already gone out to explore the city, everyone except Thom who was performing in the common room and one of the boys who was sick. Lews finished the last crumbs and stood up—he knew he should visit the boy to see if he'd had the same dream, but that would have to wait—and instead headed toward the stableyard. When Lews stepped into the stableyard, he saw the grumpy stableman, Mutch, who had met them the previous evening. When Mutch saw Lews, he spat on the ground and then quickly walked into the stable. Lews crossed the stableyard toward the open gates when a woman's voice behind him said, "A shepherd with a heron-marked sword, it makes me believe almost anything, what trouble have you gotten into, down-country boy?" He turned around and saw the cropped-haired tomboy Moiraine had spoken to the previous evening. She looked to be just short of twenty-five years old and had large dark eyes like wells. "You're Rand, aren't you?" she continued. "My name is Min." "Pleased to meet you, miss," he replied. "Moiraine said you were a stubborn lot in the Two Rivers." "That might very well be, but I don't know any woman by that name, I'm afraid." "Miss Alys then, if you prefer," Min said, looking amused. He gave her a warm smile in return. He glanced quickly around before saying, "So, you're an acquaintance of Alys." "She didn't have much choice, since I can read images and auras around people. I've met... people like her before and know they are always surrounded by lots of images and auras." "Alys thinks I see glimpses of the Pattern." Incredible, a legendary ability from an age before mine. "What do you see now?" "When I look at all of you together, I see a lot of sparks surrounded by a vast darkness, the darkness tries to swallow the sparks which in turn try to push the darkness away. Egwene and you love each other now, but you're not meant to be together." "I don't know if I love her exactly," Lews muttered, fairly certain he wasn't in love with Egwene. Min told him about what was visible around each of them—except around himself—and then stood there, smiling at him. Lews laughed a little, "I suppose this is where you tell me what you see around me?" He gave her another warm smile—that seemed to be working—and Min continued, "It's strange, the images around you flicker and change back and forth, I've never seen anything like it before. A sword that isn't a sword, a golden crown of laurel leaves, a beggar's staff, you pouring water on sand, a bloody hand, a white-hot iron, women standing around your funeral pyre, blood on black stone, and strongest of all, lightning striking you and coming out of you." "I don't know what any of it means except that you and I will meet again," she said finally. "I really hope so, this mystery has been quite refreshing," Lews said with a sly smile as he gave her a wink. Min blushed a bit but then said with a smile, "If I told you everything I saw, you'd probably end up with hair as curly as Perrin's." "Why don't you then? I might look good with curly hair," Lews laughed, and Min laughed too. "If you don't have anything special to do, maybe you'd like to come along and show me around the city?" "Of course, a lone shepherd would never find his way back again," she laughed so hard she almost fell over, and Lews couldn't help but laugh too. What a delightful girl. They had a wonderful afternoon full of joy and laughter, Min showed him her favorite spots in the city. When Lews went to approach a book vendor, he suddenly tripped and fell. "Are you okay?" Min called out, hurrying over. "No worries, I just hit a rock or something." He felt something hard as he pushed himself up with one hand, digging out the object that turned out to be a coin. "Oh, someone's lucky today, a gold crown," Min said in surprise. Lews brushed off the worst of the dirt and curiously examined the coin. "I guess I'm treating today," he said, smiling at Min. "You bet, shepherd," Min laughed cheerfully. Lews bought a book for each of them from the vendor, and when he paid, he noticed a beautiful flute hanging behind the vendor and bought that too. Min had haggled wildly with the vendor and got a much lower price than Lews had planned to pay. On their way back to the inn, he played a short tune for Min. The flute was his instrument, and he was quite good at it, if he said so himself. When they stepped into the inn, the common room was packed with people, and the atmosphere was lively as Thom Merrilin, the gleeman, recited *The Hunt for the Horn*. His voice boomed, weaving tales of ancient heroes and lost relics, captivating the audience. The room smelled of roast meats and ale, with the clinking of mugs and the murmur of animated conversations creating a bustling backdrop. The innkeeper, master Fitch, a stout man with a weathered face and a twinkle in his eye, approached and informed Lews that his friends had been looking for him and that he should find them.
Lews headed towards the private dining room, picking up a small piece of wood from the floor along the way, feeling its rough texture under his fingers. When he reached the dining room, he held the wood behind his back and grasped Saidin, the male half of the One Power, weaving intricate flows to transform the small piece of wood into a beautiful red rose. He then wove a preserving weave over the rose, ensuring it would never wilt.
"Thank you so much for today, Min. It was very enjoyable, and here's a beautiful flower for a beautiful woman," he said, placing the flower in her hair. The rose contrasted strikingly with her dark locks, and she blushed a deep crimson.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Lews knocked on the door to the dining room and entered without waiting for a response. Moiraine and Lan looked up as he walked in, their expressions inscrutable.
"Sorry, Master Fitch said you were looking for me."
"Yes, we were, but in the end, we couldn't wait any longer. Where have you been?" Moiraine's tone was cool, but there was a glimmer of relief in her eyes.
"I was out in the town and then I think I walked in circles before finding my way back here," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Nynaeve is here and wants to take all of you back home, but I believe we have managed to persuade her to let you continue to Tar Valon," Moiraine said, her voice firm but gentle.
"Enjoy yourself a bit in the common room; we leave early in the morning," Moiraine said. With those words, she turned back to Lan and began speaking softly. Lews returned to the common room, there was no sign of Min. The room was full, with every chair and bench taken. After a while, he found the boys, and Perrin scooted over to make room for Lews beside him. They sat for a long time, listening to Thom's grand tales—about various heroes and their quest for the horn—before the dancing started.
Throughout the years, Lews had attended countless parties, and dancing was something he truly enjoyed. After the dancing, both Moiraine and Nynaeve had complimented him on his excellent dancing skills. Egwene had seemed very surprised and had a little jealousy asked whom he had secretly been practicing with.
When the music ended and the common room began to empty, Lan said, "Time for bed, we have an early start tomorrow." They all headed towards the stairs and up to their rooms.
"I'll just stop by the kitchen; I need something to drink before bed,"Lews said. Something was drawing him there, he suspected it was *ta'veren, the pattern itself pulling him towards an important moment. He filled a mug with water and drank it, the cool liquid soothing his throat. As he turned and started back, he saw a dark figure walking toward him in the corridor. A pale hand threw back the hood, revealing a pallid, eyeless face that seemed to drink in the light.
"You are one of them, boy," the Myrddraal said in a harsh, rasping voice. Lews embraced the void and immediately grasped Saidin just as the Myrddraal was reaching for its sword. The Myrddraal, undoubtedly sensing Saidin now, turned and rushed toward the shadows. Lews wove flows of air around it and held it fast, then drew his sword and beheaded it. Quick steps were heard from the stairs, and soon Lan appeared with his sword in hand, his eyes blazing with intensity.
"Shadowspawn," Lews said as he wiped his sword on the still-twitching Myrddraal's cloak, the acrid smell of its blood filling the air.
"Yes, I sensed it just now. Well done, boy, really well done," Lan said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Rushing steps were heard from the upper floor and the stairs, and soon everyone was gathered around Lan and Lews, their faces a mix of fear and determination.
"We must leave immediately; we don't know if more will come," Moiraine said, her voice commanding. "Since Rand killed the Myrddraal, they can't be certain we are here, but we should leave nonetheless." The group nodded, quickly gathering their belongings, the tension palpable as they prepared to face whatever dangers awaited them on the road to Tar Valon.