My mind is breaking.

            Breaking into shards, splinters – so that when I think my thoughts hurt me. They slice into my mind like blade-forms

 (Fan Parts the Silk, Rising Eagle, Boar Rushing Down The Mountain)

            They cut and slash and I bleed but there is no blood.

Everyday I am washed in a river of fire and ice. The flames forge me like a blade on a blacksmith's anvil – no, more like a heron-mark blade

(mine, Lan's, the sword Aviendha gave me…)

shaped by Aes Sedai

(Moriane, Elaida, they-who-bind-me, Alanna…)

            while the ice freezes me into place. Freezes me into the shape they – no, I – no, we – want me to be.

            I do not like what I am changing into. I am too hard, too sharp – I am a man, not a sword! – but I must be. I have to be.

            For duty. No room for anything but that, now. Friendship

(Perrin, Mat, Egwene, Loial…)

and love

(Elayne, Min, Aviendha…Ilyena!)

What right have I to them? Could I hold onto them even if I tried?

            The ta'veren pull brings my friends to me but at the same time it is pushing them away. They do not come because they want to. They come because the Wheel brings them.

            My mind is broken, and in between the cracks another man peers out.

(Lews Therin Telamon…the Dragon, husband to Ilyena of the Sunhair, Leader of the Hall of the Servants… Kinslayer, Lordofthemorning, princeofthedawn... kinslayerdragonkinslayerdragonkinslayer)

            They say I am him Reborn, born where he died, knowing what he knew. His enemies are mine. His powers are mine. I am he…

            No! I am myself, I am Rand al'Thor, I was born out of mortal woman with the pain and blood that accompanied every other birth. I had a home – Emond's Field – I ran, I played, I was a normal boy!

            I was…


            My mind is breaking, and I will break the world.

            I am breaking the world. The nations tear themselves apart as Dragonsworn march to my banner. I bring the Aiel out of the Threefold Land. I made the Stone fall. The thrones are in wild disarray.

            Already the world is breaking. Already I've broken it past recognition.

            Light burn me!

            The Light burns me.

            I am broken.


AN: First try at a WoT fanfic. One of the most stream-of-consciousness-y fics ever. Overdramatic? OOC? Drop a line. BTW, my knowledge of WoT only extends to 'Crown of Swords' and it's pretty fuzzy there too.