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The roorand palace, except that it had neither s nor doors The fire on a golden ave no heat, and the flailded legs, centered on a silk carpet woven with glittering threads of gold and silver, cared little for the trappings of this Age They were necessary to impress; no more Not that he really needed more than himself to overawe the stiffest pride He called hiht to name himself Death

From ti on plain silken cords around his neck At his touch, the bloodred crystal of the cour’souvra pulsed, swirlsof a heart His real attention was on the game laid out before hireen arrayed across a playing surface of thirteen squares by thirteen A recreation of the early stages of a faame The most i surface, still waited in its starting place on the central square A co before the War of Power Sha’rah, tcheran, and no’ri, the game now called simply "stones," each had adherents who claimed it encompassed all the subtleties of life, but Moridin had always favored sha’rah Only nine people living even reame He had been a master of it Much more complex than tcheran or no’ri The first object was capture of the Fisher Only then did the gaas he presented a crystal goblet on a silver tray He smiled, but it did not touch his black eyes, eyes more lifeless than si that gaze on theoblet and motioned the servant away The vintners of this tih

The Fisher held his attention, baiting hito where it stood; on a white square, weak in attack yet agile and farranging in escape; on black, strong in attack but slow and vulnerable When ed sides oalrow that surrounded the playing surface could be threatened by any piece, but only the Fisher could move onto it Not that he was safe, even there; the Fisher was never safe When the Fisher was yours, you tried to move him to a square of your color behind your opponent’s end of the board That was victory, the easiest way, but not the only one When your opponent held the Fisher, you attempted to leave him no choice for the Fisher but to oalroould do; holding the Fisher could be erous than not Of course, there was a third path to victory in sha’rah, if you took it before letting yourself be trapped The ga only with complete annihilation of your enemy He had tried that, once, in desperation, but the attempt had failed Painfully

Fury boiled suddenly in Moridin’s head, and black flecks swam across his eyes as he seized the True Power Ecstasy that ah him His hand closed around the two mindtraps, and the True Power closed around the Fisher, snatching it into the air, a hair fro the powder out of existence The goblet shattered in his hand His grip bordered on crushing the cour’souvra The saa were a blizzard of black, but they did not hinder his sight The Fisher was alorked as ahis eyes and one hand pressed to his side, a few drops of blood dripping through his fingers The reasons, like the source of the name, were lost in the ed his of the Wheel, knowledge he needed, knowledge he had a right to A right!

Slowly he set the Fisher back on the board Slowly his fingers uncurled from around the cour’souvra There was no need for destruction Yet Icy cale in the blink of an eye Blood and wine dripped froashed hand, unnoticed Perhaps the Fisher did come from some dim remnant of a memory of Rand al’Thor, the shadow of a shadow It did not , and , but in the greater game, al’Thor moved already to his wishes And soon, now It was very hard to lose a gahed so hard that tears rolled down his face, but he was not aware of theain

The Wheel of Ti end fades to ave it birth coe yet to coreat inning There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Ti

East the wind blew across Tre, where the fairskinned Alass and porcelain, and followed the peace of the Water Way The Anored the world beyond their scattered islands, for the Water Way taught that this world was only illusion, a mirrored reflection of belief, yet some watched the wind carry dust and deep su, and they remembered tales heard from the Atha’an Miere Tales of the world beyond, and what prophecy said was to come Some looked to a hill where aa clear crystal sphere larger than many houses The Amayar had their own prophecies, and some of those spoke of the hand and the sphere And the end of illusions

Onward the wind blew into the Sea of Stor sun in a sky abandoned by clouds, whipping the tops of green sea swells, battling winds fro as the waters below heaved Not yet the storone,su folk to coast around the continent froain Eastward the wind howled, over rolling ocean where the great whales rose and sounded, and flying fish soared on outstretched fins two paces andnorth, east and north, over s their nets in the shallower seas So, hands idle on the lines, staring at a huge array of tall vessels and smaller that purposefully rode the wind’s hard breath, shattering swells with bluff bows, slicing swells with narrow, their banner a golden haith talons clutching lightning, abanners like portents of storm East and north and on, and the wind reached the broad, shipfilled harbor of Ebou Dar, where hundreds of Sea Folk vessels rode as they did inword of the