blue_ajah: (dark eyes aes sedai)
You're pretty good at keepin' secrets. Joe had asked her that, before he had handed her a set of pages torn from a book.

Coda. Found.

Moiraine walks the glittering shore of diamonds and fallen stars, beside the sea of tears, and the breeze over the water dries the silent, unceasing drops that fall from the dark eyes.

The price is high, to change the Pattern. Is it enough? Has it been paid? She cannot be certain. And now, memory is all that remains, memory and hope.

And so the Aes Sedai walks, remembering Roland Deschain -- in the bar, by the lake, in the Garden here in the Dreaming -- and grieves for the loss of a friend.

Endings are heartless.
blue_ajah: (Default)
They enter a large round hall, stretching into the distance and curving around as though spiraling away. The ceiling is lost in the shadows at its height. Everything in the hall is curved; there are no straight lines or angles anywhere. Spiraled yellow columns twine up the sides of the room like vines, and white and yellow stripes spiral in turn from a circle in the middle of the floor. A strange glow lights the room from a few golden globes atop spiraled metal coils, and a few windows are set into the walls; these, too, are round, and three curved silver spires can be seen outside.

To one side, a great distance away, an opening in the wall is barely visible.

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blue_ajah: (Default)
Moiraine

July 2013

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