"The Wheel weaves," she murmurs, "and all things are part of the Pattern. Such prophecies are often difficult to interpret, but there is peril in discarding them."

Considering, she recites, "The tides of men run out, and the hours dwindle. The wall is pierced, and the veil of parting raised. Storms rumble beyond the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the earth. There is no salvation without destruction, no hope this side of death."

Moiraine reaches for her glass and takes a sip of wine. "From the Karaethon Cycle. The Prophecies of the Dragon."