Book 1
The Eye
of the World
The Wheel of Time turns and Ages
come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth,
and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth return
again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, when the World and Time
themselves hang in the balance, a wind rises in the mountains of mist
. . .
. . . and Rand al'Thor is cold.
Though the spring festival of Bel Tine comes tomorrow, it is a year
without spring, a year when green things fail and hope is dying.
It is a year of strangers; of a
lady; and a gleeman with his tales of heroes; and a peddler with news
of the present -- of war with Ghealdan, far away, and of the rising
of a false Dragon -- the savior whose coming, foretold and dreaded,
will bring a new Breaking to the World. But the worst strangers are
monsters Rand thought only legend -- the bestial Trollocs, and the horrifying
Halfmen, whose eyeless gaze is fear.
They want a boy on the brink of
manhood, born within a certain span of months. They want Rand himself,
or his burly, deliberate friend Perrin, or the prankster Mat.
It is a world where nothing is what
it seems. Not Nynaeve, the village Wisdom, who can Read the Wind. Not
Moiraine, the lady from outside, whose beauty hides a terrifying identity
and a Power that seemed only yesterday to be the stuff of legend. Not
the lady's companion, Lan, whose chameleon cloak is stranger than the
fluttering, multihued garment that proclaims the gleeman's trade of
old Thom Merrilin. And not Egwene, the innkeeper's dark-haired daughter,
caught between childhood and womanhood, between love of Rand and determination
to become all that her destiny would make her.
The villagers know only that Trollocs
hunt them. They have no way of knowing that the Dark One, imprisoned
by the Creator at the moment of creation, is stirring in Shayol Ghul.
It is a time for prophecies to be
fulfilled. The Wheel of Time is weaving a Web in the Pattern of Ages,
a Web to entangle the World. It is a time when Time itself may die,
when the Eye of the World may be blinded. What was, and what will be,
and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.