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They stood atop a hill, overlooking what had once been the Seven Towers. Now, remnants peered through the new growth like bones of a forgotten era, waiting to be clothed in glory once again. The wind carried the scents of rain and ashes, a reminder of the hard-won peace.
"You should stay," Lan said suddenly, his voice roughened by bottled-up emotions. "Here, in Malkier, with Nynaeve and me.”
Moiraine didn’t answer.
As the silence stretched, weighted with unsaid words, Lan's expression grew tense, frustration and sorrow etching lines into his war-hardened face. Finally, he nodded in understanding. "I see,” he said, his eyes never leaving Moiraine’s impassive face. “But know this, I miss what we had, our bond. I thought, perhaps, you might consider staying nearby. Safe."
Moiraine sighed ever so slightly and reached out, touching his arm briefly, a gesture of comfort but also finality. "What we shared belongs to a time that has passed. My path lies elsewhere now."
Lan’s gaze dropped to the ground, away from the expanse of his kingdom, away from the Aes Sedai he had once sworn to protect. "I had to ask," he murmured, almost to himself, a whisper lost to the wind.