In the distance, beyond the furthest ocean, beyond the stalwart gates of ages, A light still shines! Daughter of the Creator, she comes! Cursed one, born of man, bred as man, she cries and the foundations of the world tremble. She laughs and nations weep in joy. Rejoice O People of the world! For the Joybringer, Daughter of the Light will be born again.

From the Almonrik Scriptures
Halcyon, Shackler of Worlds

Chapter Eight: All is Joy

Egwene al'Vere heard screams from almost every direction. The Amyrlin's study was much like it had always been in the World of Dreams, but Tel'Aran'Rhiod had a way of making things seem a bit less real. People flashing about to and fro randomly appearing, just slightly touching on the fringes of that hidden world and then lapsing back into their normal sleep, dissappearing like ghosts, made it clear that the World of Dreams wasn't truely reality.

Not as this was now. Despite the shouts of terror filled citizens and the screams of Aes Sedai, the sounds of war and fires, Egwene could not help but feel a sense of comfort. She was home. This was where she belonged. Tar Valon was in her blood now. The buildings sung to her. The masonry of the builder's echoed loudly in her ears and the weight of her burden, always laying down on her shoulders like a great mastiff, eased if only in the slightest bit, by finally entering the place that was and would always be hers.

The room they had walked into was somewhat dank with decay and age... and rats littered it. Elaida had seen fit to discard the room as rubish prefering to move herself higher up in the tower, to signify her own greatness or something idiotic like that. The room had once been the meeting hall of Siuan Sanche, the previous Amyrlin seat, and Elaida had hated her. Egwene's eyes narrowed at the thought. The twit of a woman. Elaida was a fool, but she had been able to gather a strong enough backing to usurp Siuan and have the woman stilled. It would not do to underestimate her.

Even without the Red Aes Sedai's wit, the sounds of screaming were an indication that she was powerful, at the very least. A great many of those frantic yells had the deep narrow scrawl of the woman's voice to them, as if she were trying to fight the beast alone.

"Light bless her, if she can kill it..." Egwene thought, "but the White Tower is mine."

"Mother?" Siuan questioned lightly. It was so strange, even now, to hear the ex-Amyrlin call her 'Mother,' in the exact same way she had once called the woman, little more than a year ago. But the wheel weaves, as they say.

Egwene turned to the group of woman gathered behind her. They were among her strongest, though admittedly, Siuan and Leane were not quite the greatest of them, their strength in the power having been greatly diminished. They were here because of their unswavering loyalty. If anyone were to stab her in the back... if any were Black Ajah among them, at least she knew she would have those two.

'Don't trust anyone. Not even me fully.' Siuan's own words. The woman had taught her the ways of the Amyrlin, after she had been raised to the stole, and now it was the entirety of her being. She would rule and take the White Tower to Tarmon Gai'don itself, and she would bring it back whole, or die trying.

Now she stared into the ex-Amyrlin's questioning eyes, and tried to understand how they had once seemed so very old to her. Youth radiated from them now. Love, too. Siuan had managed to fall in love. It almost made Egwene laugh when she thought about it. Well, at least the woman knew how to choose. One of the legendary generals. Her general, in particular. Oh yes. A fallen Amyrlin Seat could do much worse.

"Yes, Daughter. I know. We fly." She replied calmly, but her inner thought's were another matter. 'Light! She's twice if not three times my age! It has been over a year and it still seems so strange!'

Steeling herself. Egwene focused on the task at hand. The White Tower was under attack. She hardly knew what it was, but she knew that it was bright... like a fire, shining mid-day across the land from the midst of the city all the way to the jagged slopes of Dragonmount. It had awoken every sleeping guard, and sent the ones who had actually been awake scrambling to report. The camp just outside the great city had become uproarious from the first instant.

Aes Sedai scouts were sent to the walls via traveling almost instantaneously, and their reports had been grave.

The west harbor was little more that rubble, debris, and wet plywood floating in the depths of the river Erinin. A single entity, a ball of white light, sending tiny pieces of itself hurtling throughout the city, indescrimintely slaying all that could not stop them. None were spared. From children, women, and even babies, to the strongest of the warders and Aes Sedai, the firelights slew everything that lived, ramming living beings through, and burning them alive.

Many of the scouts sent had not returned.

The women followed Egwene as she exited the dank room and briskly paced into the winding halls of the Lower Tower. They were silent, content following her at the moment, though Romanda, of the yellow ajah, and Lelaine, of the blue, surely grumbled the entire way. Both were equally strong and near enough close to her to have wanted the seat of the Amyrlin for themselves. Even so, they followed. The risk to the tower was too great for petty squabbling now.

Fly they did. Egwene paced through the tower, up bending flights of stairs without pause in the direction of the uppermost balcony. Scullions and kitchen maids, many panicking in terror, fled in utter shock at their procession. Some recognized her as the girl who had once learned here. At least they thought they did. But her eyes were schooled hard into the look of firm serenity. Egwene, Aes Sedai was so different from the Egwene al'Vere, the Novice, she might as well have been a different person entirely.

But she did remember her roots, at least. She remembered a small village. An innkeeper's daughter. Apprenticed to the Wisdom, the village healer. Dancing around the pole at Bel'Tine. Waiting for the peddler at the start of spring. Fireworks... A sheepherder she once loved, who had now grown to become the Dragon Reborn. Things long gone... things that the world would never remember. For all the writings that may one day come of her... the memories of an innkeeper's daughter would never be recorded.

'Strange thoughts...' She mused. But she supposed, they were because she was afraid. Excited, and afraid. Was she going to her death? Or, was she going up to face one of the Dark One's minion, fling it down, and then become Amyrlin all in one fell swoop...? Worse... if she did, would she be any better than Elaida?

Those behind her seemed to have faith at least. Even Romanda and Lelaine to some extent. Each had conceded their own surprise at just how unmanipulatable she had turned out to be. That was why they had raised her, barely an accepted, to the rank of Amyrlin. They had wanted to push her. An Amyrlin that the hall could control, to throw up against Elaida while they made the real decisions.

What they had received was anything but. Now, they knew it, but strangely, they seemed to accept. Grudgingly, they all had to concede at some point that maybe this was what they had needed all along. An Amyrlin who could bear the weight of Tarmon Gai'don and all it represented. The end of an age. The end of the world... of the light itself?

Who could say?

Up flight after flight of stairs they traveled, the screams of Elaida and her circle of Aes Sedai grown louder and more desperate by the moment.

"Link with me," Egwene demanded, and even as she spoke, she embraced the true source. Awe filled her, as it always did. Surrendering to a torrential river of calm bliss that always held just on the brink of sweeping her away. Her thoughts focused and she fused her power with those around her, reaching through each of them to touch the One Power. They bonded, the flows each multiplying the potential power she could draw on Saidar. She felt the control of the link float to her, and she grasped it, even as her pace increased. Another door. Another.

As they rose up the stone steps she began to notice holes in the walls, surely crafted by the flames bursting through them. Rubble began to decorate the once immaculate staircases. Rarely, the body of a liveried servant, or a youngling, or even an Aes Sedai, lay crumpled on the ground, their body a carcass, seemingly burned from the inside. But Egwene could not wait. She could not.

Up. Ever up. She strode briskly. Never running. She was Aes Sedai. She was the Amyrlin Seat. Panic was not allowed.

Without warning, a wall burst open before her. She heard her Daughter's flinch behind her at the blast, but she did not move.

'No panic. None. Ever. You are the Amyrlin.' She berated herself for even thinking of flinching.

Her eyes narrowed and she drew on the One Power. Surrounding the ball of flame in a simple bubble, snuffing out the oxygen, the firelight flickered almost instantly before dissipating. Even as the first evaporated, another flashed through the newly-blasted hole to take its place, flashing towards them seemingly searching for revenge for its fallen brother.

Egwene did not even stop her stride as she dispatched it as quickly as she had the first.

And that was the way of it. They continued onward, and ever more of the head-sized balls of fire appeared and were dispatched as quickly as they did. Egwene did not turn her eyes to catch those behind. She felt them as soon as they even grew near her, and dispatched them, some even before they were visible on the opposite sides of walls.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of walking, she reached the uppermost floor. Giant arching doors, that had not resided here when she had been a novice denoted the Amyrlin's Study. Hmph. Elaida. Pompous witch. Did she really make petitioners walk up all those stairs?

Not letting her anger touch her, deep within the calm of Saidar, she threw blasts of air at the arches and they flew off their hinges, jack-firing into the room, like stones from a sling.

They clanged loudly, lodged into the ceilings above, but Egwene couldn't care less.

Before her stood the backs of thirteen woman, each embracing as much as they possibly could, all of them shining with a wave of the One Power.

At the head stood Elaida. Atop edge of the balcony's banister she stood, dark hair flapping in the wind, staring defiance into the face of a sun that filled every inch of Egwene's view, blotting the sky with Red and White swirling fire.

"Die!" The woman screamed, even as she threw cords of spirit like wildfire into the midst of the burning sun. Hundreds, upon hundreds of cords, each stronger than the last blasted forth from Elaida. Fueled by the power of her sitters, and her will to defend Tar Valon, she stood as a mountain to bar the ways of a crashing tsunami towering miles above.

But she would not falter.

For every weave of Saidar she sent to attack the great sun, ten bursts of fire were sent back at her, each crashing into a barrier of spirit and air. Elaida held that up as well, and Egwene could not help but feel a small bit of awe for the woman.

'You will try every bit as hard and harder. This woman is no match for you. You are the Amyrlin.' Egwene thought to herself, mentally scolding.

Dashing, she broke through the woman to stand just behind Elaida, and began to weave her own columns of air and water. Ten strands of the source. Ten weaves. Thirty. A hundred. A hundred fourty. Each weave more intricate than the last and each weave twice as difficult to summon at the same time as the first, she began to wall away the fire from the air that allowed it to burn. Fire couldn't burn without air.

Then it began to attack her. Comets the size of a man's head began bashing into her nets. Trying to burn them to cinders but she would not let them. Each thread of Saidar that fell, a crisp of its previous form, she made five more. The great sun seemed confused, trying to send it's attacks towards Elaida's franting battering, and towards the net Egwene still weaved. It was like sewing cloth around a burning candle. Cloth with threads like steel, so tightly woven that even air couldn't slip through.

A hundred seventy. Two hundred and ninety! Slowly, the flames began to lessen as the air lost its touch.

"No! Y-You! What are you doing!?" Elaida screamed in fury, as she finally realized that among her sisters were those linked with Egwene.

"I am saving your life." Egwene replied. Calm. Calm. That was the way. Calm.

She closed her eyes. Fires began dashing towards her but she batted them away with the slightest nudge of air. Water should have destroyed this fire... but so high up, bringing water would never work. It had to be air. Air. Air and an unbreakable barrier.
Four hundred strands at once! Each lacing into each other. Each squeezing the thing tighter.

The projectiles it blasted out each moment grew less. Its fires grew less. It shrunk!

Egwene let a small smile ripple on her face but she never let up her concentration. Never let up—!


The scream was that of a thousand needles stabbing into her ears, jolting her concentration awry. She slipped, the weaves falling away. "No!" She shouted, only an instant, but a flurry of fiery bursts exploded through the gaps in her airtight sphere.

Just as suddenly, a golden light, not white or red, slammed into sun from below, exploding and blinding her, bashing into her weaves of air with all the force of an ogier sized hammer. Dazed, she realized that she wasn't on her feet. She shook her head and stood as fast as she could, the jerk of losing hold on so many weaves at once dazing her. But she couldn't give up… she couldn't! Dizzily, she stood, striding back to the wall to meet the thing.

Elaida was still standing! And... and the woman was...!?

For the briefest instant, the eyes of dark haired woman, and her own, connected. The woman was beaten. She was tired, but she was not dead. Not till the tower fell would she die. And Egwene felt the same. Together. Together. Instantly she set to work, joining Elaida in weaving. Elaida sent her own weaves of air through laces that she had been growing already. Hundreds upon hundreds now, the ball of air surrounding this flaming beast grew.

The flames flickered. Egwene batted away the blazing comets like flies. She weaved, walls air and bursts of water, snuffing out the burning weapons hundreds at a time. Eliada, her own circle weakened, and half of them slumping over with weariness, still managed to pull with tremendous power on the source. With all her might she concentrated on weaving, each new lace of air wrapping the flames just that much tighter. The flames died, and died… and died. Egwene's eyes began to widen in shock as she slowly discovered what was held within.

'A Man!? A single Man? Is he one of the forsaken!?' She thought, in shocked terror. A single man? Could... could do all of this!? L-Light!

Black hair, and blue eyes that screamed hate, began to appeared within the shrinking flames of the sun. He held his breath, and his eyes locked eternally with those of Elaida in a battle of wills. He hated her. He hated her, so much that Egwene didn't know how the woman wasn't crying with terror. Such hate could not...

"My daughter! My Keika!" The man screamed, his voice hoarse. "You killed her...! You kill--!"

"MAMA!" Came another of the gut wrenching cries but this time, Egwene was ready. She braced herself and the weaves held firmly against the onslaught of another blast of the golden light from below.

'Light!' She thought wearily. 'Is someone down there throwing fire at the thing!? Fools!' What else could it be? There was nothing she knew of that made light so bright. Impacting against her own weaves, whatever the thing was, it barely harmed the man held in midair by some force she could not see or feel. Exploding in a blast of light against the barrier she had woven to keep the man from breathing, she could barely shield her eyes from the blast. But the weaves were clear as thunder. Bright as the sun itself.

"The light burn you!" Elaida burst out. Egwene's eyes only barely recovered, flecks of light dotting her vision. But still she weaved.

Another burst of fires erupted, less this time. Less. But she was growing weaker.

She sent a wall of air weaved in haste flowing towards it, and was shocked to find the fires banding together! They gobbled the flows, burning them as if they never were. Letting her focus on weaving around the man himself, Egwene focused on the fires. What was happening? Were they… were they learning?

Three fires flashed towards her as the others in the group scattered. A weave of spirit and one of the fires simply ceased to be. Another. Ano—!

Leane's voice. Screaming. Screaming. She jerked her head, her eyes widened in terror. Leane! Leane!

One of the thirteen women with whom she reached through for the source flailing in agony, Egwene felt her power dwindle as the woman burned, white fire erupting from within her chest, spewing crisped body innards across the room, the fire within her exploding outward leaving nothing but a burning blackened carcass of what was once the Keeper of the Chronicles.

"Oh light… Leane...!" She whispered, an echo of Siuan just behind her.

Focusing her cold fury into channeling, she drew more strongly on the source. More strongly than she ever had. It felt incredible! She wanted more! And more! And ever more! In an instant she had drawn more than should be safe. But it wasn't enough. It had to be destroyed! Eradicated! She would scourge this blackened man from the face of this world. No quarter!

She cut a hole within her own weaves, to Elaida's horror, and she watched the man's eyes widen in surprise, as breath seeped into his lungs.

"Die Shadowspawn!" She cursed hatefully. This thing would die. This thing would DIE!

Pulling in all her strength, she wove balefire…

It was all Elaida could do not to gape openly. So many weaves… Egwene could handle… so many weaves! She'd never felt so humbled before in her life, but now was not the time. No. She would destroy this thing. And she would be every bit as much a part of it as the little child would. She thought she was Amyrlin… no. She wasn't.

But by the light, Elaida didn't think she knew one woman in the whole tower with more nerve. Egwene al'Vere's face might as well have been cast from iron. Staring down this flaming ball without so much as a flinch. She was… mighty.

Elaida had never thought that of another woman. Not ever.

Until now.

It didn't matter though. She was Amyrlin. Did her flows not weave just as deftly? Did she not douse just as many of those damnable flames? No!

As she watched the other woman work, and desperately tried to keep up, fear began to take her. After this day, the tower would be united, or it would be destroyed. After this day. This hour.

Frantically, she batted away yet another white and red swirling comet, it's tail drizzling out of existence, much like blowing out a moving candle. A moving candle with a deadly grace that could kill as soon as touch. Leane? Was that what the girl behind her had exclaimed? Leane?

Elaida chanced a glance back. Romanda. Sheriam. Lelaine. Hard faces to be sure, but all fell short of the al'Vere girl now. And…

Elaida's eyes widened in momentary shock. Ageless or not, Elaida would never forget the face of Siuan Sanche. The woman she'd deposed as Amyrlin. The woman saw her glance and glared. Egwene held the weaves, so all Siuan had to do was embrace Saidar and give as much as she could to the circle, so at least Siuan couldn't hurl her power at Elaida while her back was turned.

Her power…? Embrace Saidar!? Siuan had been stilled. Stilled! How in the light was she…!? That wasn't a matter for now. No. It wasn't. 'Fool woman.' She thought at herself, harshly. 'Death stares you in the face and you are worrying about why a stilled woman can channel!? Fool!'

Another three fireballs were batted away, but suddenly, Elaida felt her weaves pushed aside. The girl… NO! Egwene had been a genius, wrapping the thing in flows of air so tight the fires couldn't get the air to breathe … but now she was opening the hole! Wait… what was she..?

Suddenly, all of Egwene's other weaves were tied off, and left to hang there, leaving a foot wide hole within the bubble of air. Something began to coalesce in the girl's hand. A… light…?

An explosion, like that of a gong larger than the tower itself, erupted in Elaida's ears; like sound that was not sound blanketing everything. Yelling ceased. Everything ceased. Silence before a storm that could wrack the world. So loud that she heard nothing. Then, from Egwene's hand a bar of searing white light blinded Elaida, blasting into the hole the girl had cut in the weaves. She shielded her eyes. What under the light was…?

The light faded as instantly as it had come, and sound returned. Elaida just caught the end of Siuan voicing "No!" as her hearing truly came back, but she saw nothing but the Accepted's hard eyes. No… this woman was Aes Sedai if anyone was. Whoever wore the stole at the end of the day, Elaida would show respect for Egwene al'Vere.

To her shock, Elaida suddenly realized that all the fires had ceased to be. All of them. Every last fireball had dispersed to the wind, and darkness lay in front of the balcony where all their battle had occurred.

"W-We did it…" Egwene breathed as she turned to face Elaida and meet her eyes for the second time. "It's dead; he is dead. Whatever he wa—!"

A bar of red light suddenly bloomed into being. "Egwene!" Elaida barely had the time to shout before the bar, brimming with red and white fires, blasted…

It was with shock that Elaida stared. A hole existed, where Elaida could see straight through Egwene al'Vere's stomach. The woman blinked… staring down at the hole in her chest. Skin baking… white and red burning fire began to lick at her chest, seemingly blooming from within her.

Tears came to Elaida's eyes. This ally… taken so soon? She'd only just met… but… Egwene had saved her life with her arrival. Elaida knew she would be long dead had the girl not appeared. And now…?

"I guess the stole… wasn't meant for me…" The woman stated, a simple smile lay on her face. As death took her, unnatural fires, burning her from within. Oh light the woman was on fire! And she was smiling! How hard could she have become…?

Elaida could not watch the woman burn. Her eyes heated with flared anger, turning to the darkness, where she could just barely make out the figure of a man, glinting in the moonlight. Another red and white bar burst out of him, but this one towards the ground below. It exploded, and screams echoed up from a distance.

The monster had stolen Egwene's weapon… copied it.

He would pay—!

Abruptly the sound of a door bursting off its hinges, blasting apart behind her sounded. And a voice came. "Ranma!"

A scream… yet Elaida knew who that was. A woman dead. A woman… long dead.

Elaida turned, slowly, and found herself face to face with Tamra Ospenya. The Amyrlin from when she was an Accepted… so many years ago.

Tamra's voice cracked. Her eyes blazed with a fury that matched Egwene's, though now the once black-haired woman was little more than a corpse, still burning in white flames. The light of saidar burned around the woman who had once been Amyrlin, so brightly that Elaida had to shield her eyes from the radiance, yet the woman's scream was so dry she must have come from a desert. But it was her…

The flames ceased, and Tamra ran to the balcony... and leaped.


Elaida was too shocked to move.

Ranma had been plagued by madness for so long, he hardly remembered what was real and what was fake. He was tired. He was angry. His daughter was dead… He would kill them! He would destroy them all!

All these things faded away. All these things turned to dust and ash. The door behind the woman who had killed his daughter exploded outward, and Ranma's eyes fell onto hers. At first, he denied what his eyes told him. She could be here! It wasn't possible! He'd seen her die! He'd… he'd seen her die! He was certain!

But here she was… here she was now. Akane. Akane Tendo. The woman of his yesterdays, of his tomorrows.

"Ranma!" The girl exclaimed, out of breath, her voice raw, eyes glistening, and shimmering with a blue fire that could outshine the sun itself. But this girl was no fire. No… this was… this was…!

She leapt out off the balcony to him. Time seemed to slow. Everything seemed to slow. She fell towards him, jumping off the impossibly tall tower, to him. To him! She was here! She was real!


Everything seemed to move at an ant's pace. She seemed to move through the air as if she were wading through mud, and he realized that he too was dashing towards her. Towards her… He was screaming her name. He had to get to her! He had to! She was here… she was alive!

After what seemed an eternity, their finger's touched, high above the city of Tar Valon. And together, they embraced. And they fell.


He was somewhere else. The world tuned out, and all that existed was he, her, and the mist of morning. They stood beneath a bridge, by a canal. Ranma remembered the place. His favorite place, once. But that was different now. Now his favorite place was anywhere she was. All he could see was her. She wrapped her arm around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder and quirked her head, and tingle, and a smile. "Ranma."

"Y-You're alive…" Ranma stuttered, his eyes shocked and joyous at the same time. "How are you…?"

Her fingers touched his lips, silencing him. "I love you… Ranma."

Were there words? Were the words to convey such emotion? Tears began to well in his eyes and he wiped away those formed at the sides of hers with a gentle thumb.

"I love you Akane."

His lips touched hers; they kissed. Passion. Ecstasy. Emotion. Raw emotion encircled him, overwhelmed him, so much that he felt his heart would burst. Akane. Akane! His Akane! Alive and well and in his arms! He could fly forever! It seemed an eternity that their lips touched, but it would never be enough. Not until his dying day and beyond could he ever have enough of her!


Abruptly, as their lips parted, the world around faded into existence and he realized that they were falling, plummeting headfirst to the streets of Tar Valon, below the tower.

And instantly, he became aware. And if it were possible, his joy doubled, as a familiar feeling washed over him. A sense of someone near. Someone he loved.

Keika. She was alive. Oh light, Keika was alive!

A golden bullet careened towards them, a weak thing, as all his daughter's ki abilities were compared with himself, but far stronger than any Ranma could ever remember her creating before. Ranma batted the thing away in glee, holding Akane as close to him as he could, and dashed towards the source of the golden blast. They were both alive. They were both alive!

He could hardly breathe, so great was his rapture. Ranma's eyes found his daughter as he flew, and he blasted towards her, gleeful at the way Akane clung to him, bawling into his shoulder, her own heart bursting in happiness at their impossible reunion. And… and… Keika!

"How could you!?" Came his daughter's scream. He knew it was her. He heard her voice. He smelled her anger. He… he had found her!

"How could you do this, Mama!?" The girl screamed. "How could you!?"

Ranma wasted no time with words. He pulled out a hand and grappled the girl around the waist, holding her as close as he had the girl's mother, flying onward without pause, burying his face in the girl's shoulder. "Keika… I'm so glad you're alive. Keika!" He bawled, wailing into the girl's shoulder, blurring over anything she had to say.

She was alive. Light be praised… She lived. His daughter lived.

Keika was openly shocked. "Wh-who are..? Y-you aren't… MAMA?" The girl exclaimed, shocked surprise wrapping around her face. Ranma stared down into the girl's eyes, a smile so wide that he didn't think it was possible. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he could scarcely find the words, his eyes filtering from Akane, to Keika and back again. What could he do...? What words would ever show be enough? "I'm so glad you're… I-I'm so glad..."

Overcome with glee knowing the girl didn't even recognize him in this form, not caring, he burst into the sky, delighted at the frightened jumps the two women in his arms gave. His world boiled. His skin felt aflame with the heat of his joy, and he let his power flow all around. The world erupted in white light. Laughing as dawn just began to rise on the horizon, Ranma blasted away from Tar Valon, a tail of white fire and ki, glistening behind him.

In the streets of the city, thousands, tens of thousands of dancing fireballs of the purest white, spawning from a tail of fire blasting away from the ruined city of Tar Valon to the south, flitted about happily from corpse to corpse.

And all around, the dead rose. All around, the dead were born again.

Everywhere, the people's fear was washed away. Their terror drained and their panic quelled. The fires touched them. Caressed them, as if touching a long lost friend. A brother. A daughter. A lover. Filling every heart with the joy. The joy that was left.

Filling every heart with bliss.

The weaves of Aes Sedai fell apart and melted away against these strange, pure white spheres, burning just as their predecessors had. Terror took hold of the people once more in the moments before they expected their deaths to come, burning in flames. Yet the white fires entered them with a calm touch. Not meant to harm, but only to share the joy left behind.

Burned bodies blurred, lighting again; charred skin grew over the remains of blackened skeletons. Breath seeped into the lungs of those who had been dead for hours. Hair grew on balded, burned scalps. Eyes, melted from sockets grew back, bobbled and rolled into place. Everywhere. Everywhere! The dead rose. Stone began to flow back to its place, where comets of red and white had destroyed before, the purest white returned, restored, and regenerated all. Rubble that had crushed bodies beneath it blended back into the masonry where the bodies below began to fill with life. Bones mended. Ligaments reset. Joints reconnected. Severed body parts sewed themselves back together with every touch of the white lights.

More! Those lamed all their lives without limb grew anew. Men who had lost eyes in this war or that, found themselves seeing once more. Lepers felt the blisters on their skin bubble away and become no more. All. All, restoring! Rebirthing!

And in every man, every woman, joy burned like a flame. Brigand or Aes Sedai. King, or Novice. Innskeeper or Amyrlin Seat herself.

The dawn came.

All was joy.

And men and women together did cry unto the heavens saying "O Light, and the Creator, blessed are you who sends your hand to shield us from the dark. Blessed are you who sends your daughter into the world among us. Blessed is the She who Dances the flames, she who binds us and strengthens us for the dark which is to come. Creator, bless the Joybringer, your daughter. For without her, without you, we would be no more than ash and dust on the winds of time."

Turei Minneova
Watcher of the Seals

Flame of Tar Valon
The Amyrlin Seat

—The Fourth Age

The End

Author's notes:

The Mark in the Lace is complete. Sorry the chapter was ridiculously short, but that was all I needed. I hope you've all enjoyed. It's been a pleasure to write.

Be sure to keep an eye out for the final sequel, "The Last Day" in which I will be the first to finish a wheel of time epic fanfic! (I hope)

Special thanks goes to Silence Darkness who preread for me for a while. Ozz. Mark. You guys are great! Google-Docs deserves some small nod here as well.

And a giant hug, thankyou and special thanks to all those who have reviewed and enjoyed reading my works over the years. I'm only as good an author as your criticism can make me, and I thank you for every oppinion, be they great or glum.

Your reviews are welcome and treasured. I'd love to hit three hundred at least and with the completion I know it's possible despite the shortness of this chapter.

I hope to see you all in my future endevours!

Till Next!