New God(wheel of time)

Chapter 10: Shadows in the FlameThe warmth of the fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room. Moiraine sat in the corner, her cloak drawn tight against her, her eyes half-closed in thought. Lan stood near the window, his vigilant gaze scanning the street below, as always.

The boys, with their eager eyes and youthful energy, were talking quietly among themselves—sharing stories of Emond's Field and their lives in the Two Rivers. There was laughter in their voices, though it was tinged with the quiet anxiety of the journey ahead. Perrin and Mat exchanged teasing remarks, their laughter bouncing off the walls, though Rand remained lost in thought.

Egwene, too, sat quietly by the fire, her gaze occasionally drifting toward the silver-eyed figure sitting across the room. He had not spoken much since their arrival in Baerlon, content to observe rather than engage. His silence, though not unwelcome, was unsettling. It wasn't that he lacked curiosity—on the contrary, his eyes seemed to absorb everything around him, flicking from person to person, as though cataloging every detail with precision.

"You've been quiet," Mat said after a while, his eyes narrowed, as though gauging the youth across the room. His voice carried a hint of suspicion, but it was softened by the warmth of their temporary safety. "You don't seem like the rest of us."

The boy turned his head slightly, meeting Mat's eyes, though his expression remained impassive. For a moment, there was a strange stillness in the air, as though time itself had paused.

"I don't know what I am," the boy replied finally, his voice low and rich. The words seemed to ripple through the room, carrying with them a strange weight, as though they were not just spoken but woven into the very fabric of the air itself. "I am... new."

Moiraine's gaze sharpened from her quiet contemplation. She had been waiting for him to speak, to say something more than the cryptic silence he'd maintained. The boy was not just some lost wanderer. He was something more—something untethered, a creation not of this world but yet undeniably part of it. His presence unsettled her, as if he stood just outside the reach of the Pattern, yet within it at the same time.

"New?" Perrin echoed, sitting up straighter. His usually calm demeanor had shifted into something less certain, less comfortable. "What does that mean?"

"I have no memories," the boy said, his gaze drifting toward the fire. His hands, now resting in his lap, were steady, unshaken. "I know nothing of what I was, only of what I am now. I don't even know where I'm from."

Egwene, who had been quiet until now, spoke with a hesitant but determined tone. "You don't have to know everything. We're all on this journey together, and we'll figure it out."

For a moment, there was silence. The youth turned his head toward her, and for the briefest of moments, their eyes locked.

There was a strange energy that pulsed between them—an unspoken understanding, though neither truly grasped the nature of it.

Moiraine watched the interaction with growing interest. Something about the way the two of them seemed to connect… it felt significant. But what did it mean? She could not say.

Before she could probe further, Lan's low voice interrupted. "There's no time for uncertainty. We need to move forward with our plans."

Moiraine nodded, grateful for the distraction. She rose to her feet, her cloak brushing against the floor. "We'll leave at first light. Baerlon is a temporary stop. We'll move toward Tar Valon as quickly as we can."

The boys nodded, though their minds were clearly elsewhere. The uncertainty of the path ahead weighed heavily on them, but they did not question her leadership. They knew she had a plan, and they would follow it.

Yet the boy—this enigma who had appeared from nowhere—lingered in their minds, casting a shadow over the plans they made.

"Are you coming with us?" Egwene asked after a moment, her voice tentative.

The boy looked at her, his silver eyes seeming to pierce through her. His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might say something profound, something that would alter the course of everything. But instead, he only nodded slowly.

"I will stay with you," he said, his voice quieter now, but carrying a strength behind it that none could ignore.

"Why?" Mat asked, his voice skeptical, his hand tightening around the hilt of his knife. "You don't seem like someone who needs to travel with us."

The boy's eyes flicked to Mat, then to the others. His gaze was steady, unyielding. "Because you are where I must be."

The room fell into a heavy silence, and the flickering fire seemed to grow dimmer in its presence. None of them knew what to make of his words, but there was no mistaking the weight of them.

And so, as the night wore on, each of them was left with questions—questions they could not yet answer. For the boy who called himself new, there were mysteries even deeper than the ones they had already faced.

And as they prepared for the next step of their journey, the sense that something greater was unfolding grew stronger with every passing moment.