Lews Therin Telamon stretched out on the bed, his mind set on the task ahead. Today is the day, he thought. Do or die, today we seal the bore. A sense of calm spread through his body, as it always did before his appearances, whether on the battlefield or the political stage. He rolled onto his side, feeling the bed's unusual discomfort and hardness, and reached out to embrace Ilyena, only to find that she had already risen.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up. "Ilyena!" he called out. "Where are you? We need to replace this bed, it..." His words trailed off as he looked around the room in surprise. A sweet girl's head, with brown hair in a braid and large brown eyes, appeared in front of his face. She had a worried expression, and her eyes were red, as if she had been crying.
"Rand, oh... Rand, I didn't think you would survive. Nynaeve did everything she could," she said, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
She spoke in a language he had never heard before, yet he understood every word. Strangely, it felt as though some part of him also knew the girl.
"Where is Ilyena?" Lews asked cautiously.
"Please, Rand, lie down. You're delirious," she urged. She doesn't understand me, he thought as he lay back on the hard bed.
"I'll get your father and some food," the girl said, hurrying out.
Is this a dream, or did I die in the attack on the Dark One and am somehow reborn? No, then I shouldn't have memories from a previous life. He sank into a meditation exercise to examine his subconscious. After a while, he found a part of it that seemed tied to the body. When Lews reached out to it, memories and impressions flooded in. This truly was Rand al'Thor, the farm boy the girl—Egwene—had been worried about. I... Lews Therin Telamon, trapped in a farm boy's body.
Lews summoned the Void. "Damn!" he screamed, grabbing and throwing a nearby vase, as he realized saidin was not there. In anger, he threw aside the blankets, confirming his fears. This was indeed another man's body, though tall and well-built.
The door suddenly burst open, and a short, beautiful woman with dark brown hair and large blue eyes glided into the room. She wore a blue dress with silver embroidery, and an exquisite blue stone hung from a chain on her forehead. As she approached, he noticed her ageless face, marking her a binder bound criminal.
"Why are you screaming? Has something happened?" she asked, her expression indifferent as she regarded his now-naked body. At the same time, Egwene entered, carrying a tray with food and drink.
"Your father will come as soon as the meeting..." she abruptly stopped, her face turning bright red, and she quickly turned around. "Rand..." she gasped.
Lews delved into Rand's memories to ensure his language would be accurate. The boy seemed to have a somewhat rude and unpolished manner of speech. What could one expect from a country bumpkin? "I am terribly sorry. I suddenly felt very hot and did not think at all. I will, of course, cover myself immediately, if you will excuse me."
He began to get up, but the woman in the blue dress elegantly lifted and placed the blankets over Lews' naked body, simultaneously placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back onto the bed. "You should rest. Such a fall could have taken your life," she said firmly. Best to play along until I know more about her.
"I have healed you, and it makes you both tired and hungry. Eat now, and we'll talk more tomorrow," she instructed, gliding out of the room. Egwene placed the tray on a table beside the bed.
"I have to help my mother, but I'll come up again later. Your father will probably come soon." She gave him another hug and then hurried out, closing the door gently behind her. Lews did feel hungry, but he could no longer keep his eyes open. What kind of crude healing is this, making me tired and hungry? He drifted off to sleep, pondering his strange new reality.
Noise from some kind of commotion forced its way into Lews' dreamless sleep and began to drag him out of the emptiness. "Stay here lad. I'm needed out there" said a deep male voice that sounded vaguely familiar. It seemed as if someone took quick steps on the floor, then opened and closed a door. He lay there for a moment, listening to the muted footsteps that quickly faded away. A dull roaring snapped his eyes open and he sat up, wide awake. Shadowspawn! He sprang out of bed and rushed towards the door but stopped himself before reaching the handle. Clothes, I need clothes. Turning around, his eyes fell on a beautifully carved wooden cupboard standing next to one of the walls. He took two quick steps and yanked open one of the cupboard doors. A stack of folded clothes lay neatly piled inside. A pair of pants is all I need. He grabbed the pants—the other clothes flew out onto the floor—and began to put them on. Once the pants were finally on, he felt the familiar sense of calm within. He quickly opened the door—without closing it behind him—and strode down a steep staircase—feeling slightly uneasy on it for some reason—until he came down into a large common room full of women and children. Incredible! Like a visit to a museum... No time for that now. This has to be quick, someone might be trying to stop this boy. He ran as fast as he could to the front door. "Wait, Rand!" someone shouted. Without wasting time, he tore the door open and hurried out into the dim street outside. A cascade of sensory impressions rushed over him, the smell of blood, mud, and smoke mixing with a sense of determination but also the thrill that only a life-and-death situation can bring. He crouched down by the inn's wall and peered into the darkness as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. A death scream echoed between the houses. Three maybe four houses down the street. A little further down the street, he could now make out three bodies on the ground, one large and two smaller ones. Slowly in a crouched position, he crept towards the bodies. Flickering shadows from the burning houses made him imagine approaching Trollocs several times. When he finally reached the mangled bodies—one of which was a vile Trolloc with a goat head—he found an old, rusty sword on the ground. Finally, no more sneaking. He grabbed it and stood up. Quickly he tried some sword forms. Muscle memory isn't quite there, and the sword is underwhelming, but it's what I have. He began to jog in the direction from where most of the roars could be heard and soon saw the backs of three Trollocs that had cornered some fiercely fighting villagers. A smile spread across his lips, then he charged forward. A couple of sword forms later, three Trollocs lay on the ground, two of them headless. "Thank you, Rand... Wait!" He had already turned and rushed toward the next roar. A dozen fights later—he had already lost count of how many Trollocs he had killed—he ran into a larger open area. A spectacle of lightning and fire indicated that the Aes Sedai were performing. A tall sturdy man with a sword—whom Lews assessed as a professional—was fighting a Myrddraal. The Myrddraal was careful to keep the warrior between itself and the Aes Sedai at all times. Lews stepped quickly and lightly behind the Myrddraal, which just started to turn around when Lews' lightning-fast strike separated its head from its body. The Myrddraal sank to the ground, still swinging its sword as usual. With a flick of his wrist, he severed the Myrddraal's sword hand. The warrior looked mightily surprised, so Lews decided to reward him with a big smile. Around them, the remaining Trollocs collapsed to the ground, linked to the Myrddraal as they must have been. As he relaxed somewhat his head started spinning, and he could suddenly see the muddy ground approaching fast. Then darkness.