"Father! Father!" — Helena burst into the room, her hair disheveled from the wind and haste, eyes wide with panic. "We need to help Mat! He's in danger!"
Rand looked up from the book he was reading, brow furrowed at the sight of his daughter's expression. He was sitting in an armchair near the window, where the gentle light of the magic carriage illuminated the yellowed pages.
"Hey, Helena, calm down," he said in a steady voice, though clearly alert. "Take a deep breath and tell me what you saw."
Helena tried to organize her words between gasps for breath. She sat in front of him and began describing in detail the vision she had: the dark room, the pulsing dagger, the black smoke surrounding Mat, the unknown words, the red eyes... and the overwhelming sense of despair.
Rand remained silent for a while after she finished, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in the enchanted beams above. Finally, he sighed deeply.
"I didn't want you to worry about this," he said with regret. "But I already knew something was wrong with Mat. I've been trying to help him ever since we noticed the change... but his situation is more complicated than it seems."
"Complicated how?" Helena asked, her voice heavy with anguish.
Rand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together.
"The room he's in was enchanted to help keep his mind stable. I created a subtle containment field that prevents the dagger's essence from consuming him completely. But there's something... inside him. Something that wants to take over his body. The curse is no longer separate — it's partially fused with his soul. I can't just remove the artifact — it would be like tearing out a part of Mat himself. The fight now is internal. All I can do is keep the outside forces at bay... for now."
Helena stood up, pacing back and forth.
"What if we took the dagger from him? Or asked the goblins for help? Maybe they could break the curse!"
Rand shook his head slowly.
"If we do that... he'll likely die." His eyes narrowed with frustration. "That idiot... with his greed for money."
The last sentence came out almost like a furious whisper. Helena bit her lip, torn between fear and the desire to act.
"So what do we do?"
Rand closed his eyes for a moment before answering.
"We wait. And hope he's strong enough to overcome it."
...
Days passed after Helena and Rand's conversation about Mat. He seemed to be getting better — he now ate with them, his face was less pale, and he was even cracking jokes again.
At last, Caemlyn was in sight.
Rand, seeing the tall city walls drawing closer on the horizon, pulled the reins of the carriage and turned to the others.
"We'll land far from the city. I don't want to attract attention by appearing out of nowhere. We'll ride the rest of the way."
As soon as they landed, Rand dismissed the carriage with a simple magical gesture, making it vanish in a swirl of light. Then, he summoned three horses. One of them was Thunder, his loyal companion — black-coated with intelligent eyes. The other two were of the same magical breed, sturdy, swift, and with hooves that barely touched the ground, as if guided by the wind.
They took the road toward the city. Dust danced in the air as they advanced. Along a busier stretch, a young man, not much older than them, passed by with a curious look. His clothes were dirty, his face sunburned, and a rolled-up blanket was strapped to his back.
"Where are you headed?" Mat asked, ever curious.
"Caemlyn, of course. I'm going to see the Dragon!" the young man shouted over his shoulder without even stopping.
Mat asked the same question to several people throughout the day. Most gave exactly the same answer — they were going to see the "Dragon." Only the locals seemed less enthusiastic — in fact, they looked more annoyed and suspicious of the influx of outsiders.
Just after mid-morning, a convoy of merchants appeared in the distance. They were trotting quickly, wagon wheels creaking under the weight of goods, the driver's whip snapping through the air.
A flicker of movement caught Helena's attention.
One of the wagons passed too close. The whip cracked dangerously close to where her head had been just a second before.
"Light blind you!" Mat shouted, turning around, furious. "You can't just—!"
One of the mounted guards tried to push him back with the butt of his spear, but Rand was quicker. He drew the heron-marked sword in a smooth motion and pointed it at the man.
"Watch yourself," Rand said firmly. "We're not here to cause trouble, but we won't stay quiet if you threaten my daughter."
"Get out of the way, you Darkfriends!" the guard growled, though fear was visible in his eyes as he backed off.
Rand quickly checked if Helena was all right. She nodded, though she was still shaking a little.
"Stay closer to us from now on," Rand said, more gently. "I don't want that happening again."
After that, they kept their distance from the wagons and continued cautiously along the road. As the afternoon wore on, Caemlyn's gates became clearly visible.
Mat's mouth fell open.
"After Baerlon... and even Shadar Logoth... I thought I knew what a big city looked like. But this..."
Caemlyn was massive. Outside the walls, buildings were crammed together as if several cities had been fused into one. Inns, warehouses, huts — all jumbled together in a mess of color: red brick, gray stone, whitewashed houses. The city breathed grandeur.
And the wall... it rose nearly thirty feet high, made of light stone veined with silver and white. It curved around the city like an embrace, disappearing into the hills, giving the impression that Caemlyn had no end.
The horses slowed as they neared the gates, the crowd growing thicker. Makeshift markets sprawled along the road's edges, filled with red and purple canopies, vendors shouting deals, pigpens, stables, noise and chaos.
Mat covered his ears, clearly overwhelmed by the noise and crowd.
"How are we supposed to stay hidden here?" he asked loudly, looking at Rand. "So many people... how do we know who to trust?"
"That's exactly why we'll be safe," Rand replied patiently. "With so many people, it's harder to be found... if you can manage to keep that mouth of yours shut."
Mat rolled his eyes but said nothing.
They reached the gates, where half a dozen of the Queen's Guards were struggling to maintain order. The men were impeccably dressed in red and white vests, their spears gleaming in the sun.
"Stay in line! Don't push! There's room for everyone! Light help us!" one of them shouted.
With patience, they followed the tide of the crowd and entered Caemlyn.
The city rose in gentle hills, like steps leading upward to a higher heart, protected by another wall even more impressive. This inner wall was white as snow, as if it reflected the sunlight itself.
"What do we do now?" Mat asked, licking his lips.
"Moiraine will find us," Rand replied — with more confidence than he felt.
"And if she doesn't? What if... he finds us instead?" Mat shuddered.
"We'll deal with that if it happens," Rand said firmly.
The last option was to seek out Elaida, the Aes Sedai of the palace. But he'd rather reach Tar Valon before making such a risky choice.
Rand began asking merchants and locals how to find an inn called The Queen's Blessing. At first, the answers were vague, but with persistence, the directions became clearer.
At last, they stopped in front of a large stone building. Above the door, a wooden sign creaked in the wind. On it, a figure of a man knelt before a red-haired woman wearing a crown, her hand resting on his bowed head.
The Queen's Blessing.
Rand sighed. "Finally."