He struck at Ba'alzamon, but the staff of charred wood turned his blade in a shower of sparks. I knew he wouldn't run out on me. I don't want greatness. The way began to slope downwards, and with the promise of twilight in the air, Kinslayer's Dagger at last gave way to hills, rolling and round, with more brush than trees, more thickets than forest.
Barthanes nodded and raised his glass in a small salute, then turned to speak to a gray-haired man with many stripes of color down his coat. Distant beyond knowing, but somehow just within reach. Egwene frowned; he sounded odd. Egwene took the other bench, facing Elayne.
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