The Golden Crane flies for Tarmon Gai'don!

He doesn't know what to make of me," Mat said softly. "How very uncommon. I can't think of anyone else who has reacted that way to you, Mat.

A woman's eyes cut deeper than a knife.

If you have a sword, and the Aielman has his bare hands, it is an even fight. If you're good.

The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived.

Thank you," the young mother said again. "Thank you." "The Black Tower protects," Logain heard himself say. "Always." "I will send him to you to be tested when he is of age," the woman promised, holding her son. "I would have him join you, if he has the talent." The talent. Not the curse. The talent.

Demandred blocked Lan's attack but he breathed hoarsely. "Who are you?" Demandred whispered again. "No one of this Age has such skill. Asmodean? No, no. He couldn't have fought me like this. Lews Therin? It is you behind that face, isn't it?" "I am just a man," Lan whispered. "That is all I have ever been.