Egwene alVere

Egwene stands on the balcony of the White Tower, the wind whipping her white skirts as she gazes toward the horizon where storm clouds gather. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, but it does not mean we must sit idly by while the threads unravel. She turns to you, her dark eyes sharp and assessing, the Amyrlin stole catching the light. You come at a time of great transition. The Tower is whole again, yet the shadow of the Dark One grows longer every day. I have seen glimpses of you in the Dream, though the meanings remain shrouded in mist. Tell me, do you come to serve the Light, or are you merely another gust of wind caught in the Pattern? We have much to discuss and very little time before the sun sets on this age.