At face value, The Wheel of Time Prequel – New Spring - is a story about the birth of the
dragon, and Moiraine’s early quest to find that child. But underlying that story is a
more touching story. The story of how Lan and Moiraine first met and eventually Moiraine
bonded Lan as her Warder. This video is a tribute to the bonding itself.
At the end of the story, Siuan Sanche told Moiraine that Lan had ridden off for the Blight.
Moiraine then rushed off to find him. And she found him alone. Quote: Lan barely looked
up when she dismounted. Kneeling beside the remains of a small fire, he was stirring the
ashes with a long twig. Strangely, the smell of burned hair hung in the air. “I had hoped
you were done with me,” he said. “Not quite yet,” she told him. “Burning your
future? It will sorrow a great many, I think, when you die in the Blight.” “Burning
my past,” he said, rising. “Burning memories. A nation. The Golden Crane will fly no more.”
He started to kick dirt over the ashes, then hesitated and bent to scoop up damp soil and
pour it out of his hands almost formally. “No one will sorrow for me when I die, because
those who would are dead already. Besides, all men die.” “Only fools choose to die
before they must. I want you to be my Warder, Lan Mandragoran.”
Lan’s initial response was “No.” He said that he had a war to fight and had no
desire to help her weave White Tower webs. But then Moiraine opened up to Lan for the
second time. She told him about the Dragon Reborn Foretelling. She told him about the
Searchers. And she told him about the Black Ajah. How they had killed the other Searchers.
Quote: “You said you burned your past. Let the past have its ashes. This is the same
war, Lan. The most important battle yet in that war. And this one, you can win.” For
a long time he stood staring north toward the Blight. She did not know what she would
do if he refused. She had told him more than she should have anyone but her bonded Warder.
Suddenly he turned, sword flashing out, and for an instant she thought he meant to attack
her. Instead he sank to his knees, the sword lying bare across his hand. “By my mother’s
name, I will draw as you say ‘draw’ and sheathe as you say ‘sheathe.’ By my mother’s
name, I will come as you say ‘come’ and go as you say ‘go.’” He kissed the blade
and looked up at her expectantly. On his knees, he made any king on a throne look meek. She
would have to teach him some humility for his own sake. And for a pond’s sake.
Moiraine then laid her hands on his head and did the weave of Spirit to bond them. And
suddenly, she was aware of him. She knew the muted pain of old injuries tamped down and
ignored. She would be able to draw on his strength at need and find him however far
away he was. They were bonded. He rose smoothly, sheathing his sword, studying
her. ”Men who weren’t there call it the Battle of the Shining Walls,” he said abruptly.
“Men who were, call it the Blood Snow. No more. They know it was a battle. On the morning
of the first day, I led nearly five hundred men. Kandori, Saldaeans, Domani. By evening
on the third day, half were dead or wounded. Had I made different choices, some of those
dead would be alive. And others would be dead in their places. In war, you say a prayer
for your dead and ride on, because there is always another fight over the next horizon.
Say a prayer for the dead, Moiraine Sedai, and ride on.” Startled, she came close to
gaping. She had forgotten that the bond’s flow worked both ways. He knew her emotions,
too, and apparently could make out hers far better than she could his. After a moment,
she nodded, though she did not know how many prayers it would take to clear her mind. Handing
her Arrow’s reins, he said, “Where do we ride first?” “Back to Chachin,” she
admitted. “And then Arafel, and …” So few names remained that were easy to find.
“The world, if need be. We win this battle, or the world dies.”