This place. Aes Sedai - she twisted the words like a curse - to walk free. The flame seemed to get in the way, the queasy light fluttering in time with his convulsive swallows, but he pushed on until he had wrapped himself in emptiness. The inn was still standing, he saw, white-plastered stone like almost every structure on Almoth Plain.
They saw some Trollocs, or a Fade, if you ask me. He refused to apologize, though. And Loial had his own priorities, his own ideas of what was needed for a journey. I mean, she hasn't hurt us, and they won't.
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