The Wheel of Time

The stableyard was empty except for Mutch, standing in the doorway, and one of the other stablehands carrying a sack over his shoulder into the stable. Rand nodded to Mutch, but the man gave him a surly look and went inside. Eager to explore the town, Rand quickened his pace.

At the open gates of the stableyard, he stopped and looked around. The street was packed with people, like sheep in a pen. Bundled up to their eyes in cloaks and coats, hats pulled low against the cold, they moved quickly, zigzagging as if the wind whistling over the rooftops was blowing them along, jostling each other with hardly a word or a glance. Everyone's a stranger here, Rand thought. No one knows each other.

—A shepherd with a heron-marked sword— said a soft, feminine voice. —That's almost enough to make me believe anything. What kind of trouble are you in, boy from the south?

Rand turned quickly. It was the short-haired young woman who had been with Moiraine when he came out of the bath, still dressed in her boy's coat and trousers. She looked a little older than him, with dark eyes even larger than Egwene's, strangely intense.

—You're Rand, aren't you?— she continued. —My name's Min.

—I'm not in any trouble— Rand replied, trying to sound casual. He didn't know what Moiraine had told her, but he remembered Lan's warning not to draw attention. —What makes you think I'm in trouble? The Two Rivers is a quiet place, and we're peaceful folk. The only trouble there is with the harvest or the sheep.

—Peaceful?— Min smiled faintly. —I've heard men talk about you, people from the Two Rivers. Jokes about hardheaded shepherds. And there are those who've actually been down that way. They know what they're talking about.

—Hardheaded?— Rand frowned. —What kind of jokes?

Min ignored the question, her tone growing more serious. —Those who know what they're talking about say you're like butter on the outside, soft and smiling, full of good manners. But underneath...— she paused, studying him with those piercing eyes —...you're as hard as old oak roots. Push hard enough, and you'll find stone. But in your case, Rand, that stone isn't buried very deep. It's like a storm has scraped away most of the soil covering it. Moiraine didn't tell me everything, but I see what I see.

Rand froze for a moment, her words echoing in his mind. Oak roots? Stone? It didn't sound like something merchants or their people would say. But it was the last part that made him react.

—So you know what Moiraine is?— he asked, lowering his voice. —She told you?

Min raised an eyebrow, surprised by his directness. —Of course I know— she replied, with a patience that made Rand feel a little foolish. —Not that she had much choice. I saw she was... different... right away. When she stopped here before, on her way south. She knew about me. I've spoken to... others like her before.

—"Saw"?— Rand repeated, confused. —What do you mean by that?

Min crossed her arms, studying him with a calculating look. —Well, I don't think you'll go running to the Children of the Light, considering who your traveling companions are. The Whitecloaks wouldn't like what I do any more than they like what she does.

Rand felt a chill run down his spine. —So you're a... seer?— he asked hesitantly.

Min smiled, but there was a shadow of sadness in her eyes. —Something like that. I see things. Things others don't. Sometimes they're images, symbols, fragments of what might be. They don't always make sense, but they're there. And in you...— she paused, as if choosing her words carefully —...there's a lot going on. Things you can't even imagine.

Rand felt a tightness in his chest. —What do you see in me?— he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Min looked at him for a long moment, as if deciding how much to reveal. —I see a sword that isn't a sword— she began slowly. —I see a crown of light, but also of pain. I see...— she hesitated, then continued —...I see that you're at the center of a storm, Rand al'Thor. And that storm is going to change everything.

Rand swallowed hard, trying to process her words. —Is that... is that some kind of prophecy?

—Not exactly— Min replied with a sad smile. —They're just glimpses. Pieces of what might be. The future isn't fixed, Rand. It changes with every choice we make. But some things... some things seem inevitable.

He was silent for a moment, struggling against the wave of doubt and fear her words had stirred. —And Moiraine?— he asked finally. —What does she want with me?

Min sighed, looking away as if searching for the right words. —Moiraine... she's trying to protect something much bigger than you or I can understand. And you, Rand, are part of it. But be careful— she looked directly at him, her dark eyes full of intensity —not everything she does is for your good. She has her own goals.

Rand felt a weight growing in his chest. —So what should I do?

Min shrugged, her smile returning, but this time lighter, almost playful. —Take it one day at a time. And don't underestimate that old oak inside you. It might be the only thing that keeps you standing when the storm hits.

He looked at her, trying to find some reassurance in her words, but Min was already turning to leave.

—And Rand?— she said, glancing back over her shoulder. —Watch out for the crows. They're always around when something big is about to happen.

Before he could respond, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving him alone with his doubts and the echo of her words.

The stableyard was empty except for Mutch, standing in the doorway, and one of the stablehands carrying a sack over his shoulder into the stable. Rand nodded to Mutch, but the man gave him a surly look and went inside. Eager to explore the town, he quickened his pace.

At the open gates of the stableyard, Rand stopped and looked around. The street was packed with people, like sheep in a pen. Bundled up to their eyes in cloaks and coats, hats pulled low against the cold, they moved quickly, almost without speaking or looking at each other. Everyone's a stranger here, Rand thought. No one knows each other.

—A shepherd with a heron-marked sword— said a soft, feminine voice. —That's almost enough to make me believe anything. What kind of trouble are you in, boy from the south?

Rand turned. It was the short-haired young woman who had been with Moiraine when he came out of the bath, still dressed in her boy's coat and trousers. She looked a little older than him, with dark eyes, large and intense.

—You're Rand, aren't you?— she continued. —My name's Min.

—I'm not in any trouble— Rand replied. He didn't know what Moiraine had told her, but he remembered Lan's warning not to draw attention. —What makes you think I'm in trouble? The Two Rivers is a quiet place, and we're peaceful folk. The only trouble there is with the harvest or the sheep.

—Peaceful?— Min smiled faintly. —I've heard men talk about you, people from the Two Rivers. Jokes about hardheaded shepherds. And there are those who've actually been down that way. They know what they're talking about.

—Hardheaded?— Rand frowned. —What kind of jokes?

Min ignored the question, her tone growing more serious. —Those who know what they're talking about say you're like butter on the outside, soft and smiling, full of good manners. But underneath...— she paused, studying him with those piercing eyes —...you're as hard as old oak roots. Push hard enough, and you'll find stone. But in your case, Rand, that stone isn't buried very deep. It's like a storm has scraped away most of the soil covering it. Moiraine didn't tell me everything, but I see what I see.

A chill ran through Rand. The way Min spoke felt almost supernatural, as if she were reading something in him that even he didn't understand.

—What do you mean by "see what you see"?— he asked, trying to sound casual.

Min tilted her head, assessing him.

—Do you really want to know? Most people prefer not to hear.

Rand hesitated. Part of him wanted to back away, but something in her intensity pulled him forward.

—Tell me.

Min took a deep breath.

—I see things around people, shadows, images. Sometimes they're clear, other times just blurry. But they always mean something. I saw something around you when you arrived. And it wasn't small.

Rand's heart raced.

—What? What did you see?

Min hesitated before continuing:

—I saw a crown on your head, but I also saw you bloodied and fallen. I saw a wolf by your side, a golden wheel spinning in the dark. I saw a woman dressed in red and a wall of fire. I also saw a strange symbol, like a twisting dragon.

Rand tried to laugh, but it came out forced.

—That's... a bit vague.

—It always is— said Min. —I don't know exactly what it means, but it always comes true.

Rand crossed his arms, uncomfortable.

—Did Moiraine talk to you about me?

Min chuckled softly.

—Of course. But what I see has nothing to do with what she said. She only confirmed that you're important. And you are, Rand. Much more than you realize.

Rand didn't know how to respond. Her certainty unsettled him more than anything else he'd heard on the journey.

—If what you see is true, what should I do?

Min shrugged.

—I don't know. But whatever it is, you can't run from it.

Rand felt the weight on his shoulders. Running was exactly what he wanted to do.

—I hope you're wrong, Min.

She just smiled.

—I hope so too, Rand. I hope so too.

—I have to go— he said, turning away from her. —I... I need to find my friends.

—Then go. But you won't escape.

He didn't exactly run, but each step he took was faster than the last.

—Run if you want— she called after him. —You can't run from me.

—Bloody hell, seers are a pain— Rand thought.

After a while, he began to pay attention to where he was again. His head felt like a balloon, but he looked around carefully and took it all in anyway. He wandered through wide streets, most paved with stone, and down narrow, twisting alleys, going wherever chance and the flow of the crowd took him. It had rained during the night, and the unpaved streets had been churned to mud by the crowds, but muddy streets were nothing new to him. None of the streets in Emond's Field were paved.

A near mirror image of Samel Crawe bumped into Rand as he turned a corner, and…

—Master Fain!— he shouted. —We thought you were…

Quick as a flash, the peddler bolted, but Rand chased after him, shouting apologies over his shoulder to the people he bumped into. In the crowd, he only caught glimpses of Fain darting into an alley and then lost sight of him.

Breathless, he stopped and looked around. The chase had taken him to a quieter part of town, and the light from the lamps was already flickering as evening fell. His heart was still pounding in his chest.

—What in the Light was that?— he muttered.

He considered continuing to search for Fain, but the strange feeling from his encounter with Min still lingered in his mind. With a heavy sigh, he decided the best thing to do was return to the inn and tell the others what had happened.

With long strides, he started heading back. The way seemed longer now, as if the town had shifted around him.