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North and eastward the wind blew, across underbrush that crunched and cracked as it shook It was night, and scrawny foxes picked over the rotting ground, searching in vain for prey or carrion No spring birds had coone silent across the land

The wind blew out of the forest and across Taren Ferry What was left of it The town had been a fine one, by local standards Dark buildings, tall above their redstone foundations, a cobbled street, built at the mouth of the land known as the Two Rivers

The ss, but there was little left of the town to rebuild Feral dogs hunted through the rubble for ry

The wind crossed the river eastward Fiere, clusters of refugees carrying torches walked the long road froe despite the late hour They were sorry groups, with heads bowed, shoulders huddled So displaying the hardships of crossing the mountains with little in the way of supplies Others came from farther off Taraboners with haunted eyes above dirty veils Farmers and their wives from northern Ghealdan All had heard rumors that in Andor, there was food In Andor, there was hope

So far, they had yet to find either

Eastward the wind blew, along the river that wove between farrass Orchards without fruit

Abandoned villages Trees like bones with the flesh picked free Ravens often clustered in their branches; starveling rabbits and sorass underneath Above it all, the omnipresent clouds pressed down upon the land Sometimes, that cloud cover ht

As the wind approached the grand city of Caee, red and violent, spewing black sry clouds above War had coees would soon discover that they’d been er was in all directions The only way to avoid walking toward it would be to stand still

As the wind blew northward, it passed people sitting beside roads, alone or in s with the eyes of the hopeless So clouds Other people trudged onward, though tohat, they knew not The Last Battle, to the north, whatever that meant The Last Battle was not hope The Last Battle was death But it was a place to be, a place to go

In the evening di far to the north of Caemlyn This wide field broke the forest-patched landscape, but it was overgroith tents like fungi on a decaying log Tens of thousands of soldiers waited beside ca the area of ti smoke from fires into the faces of soldiers The people here didn’t display the saees, but there was a dread to them They could see the sickened land They could feel the clouds above They knew

The world was dying The soldiers stared at the fla the wood be consumed Ember by ember, what had once been alive turned to dust

A coun to rust despite being well oiled A group of white-robed Aiel collected water--forain, despite their toh having been served A cluster of frightened servants, sure that toon Reborn, organized stores inside tents shaken by the wind