Rand awoke abruptly, his body trembling. A bitter, rotten taste filled his mouth before he could speak. He partially rose and, with a hoarse groan, vomited a thick, black substance—an oily paste that seemed alive for an instant. The goo dripped from his lips, leaving dark streaks on his clothes and the cold stone floor.
"Rand!" cried a high-pitched, childish voice.
Helena, who had been curled up beside him, lunged forward without hesitation. Her wide, frightened eyes filled with tears, but she didn't care about the dark slime covering his body. She threw herself onto his chest, hugging him with all the strength her small arms could muster. The embrace was so tight that Rand had to gasp for air, nearly suffocated.
"You're awake... you're awake..." she sobbed, repeating the words like a fragile spell to ward off fear.
Earlier, when Helena had first awakened, it had taken her a few seconds to understand where she was. The damp, moss-covered walls, the empty corridors, and the oppressive silence created a heavy atmosphere, as if the very air were contaminated. She had sat up, arms wrapped around her legs, feeling fear grip her chest like an invisible hand.
The place was old, strange... and wrong. Everything in her screamed that this place shouldn't exist.
"Where... where are we?" she asked, her thin voice trembling.
Egwene and Nynaeve exchanged glances. The healer knelt beside the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You've been asleep for quite a while," Nynaeve said gently. "Rand brought you here. We're in an ancient city called Shadar Logoth. It's dangerous, but... for now, it's the safest place."
"Rand... is he... is he okay?" Helena asked, her eyes already searching for him among the seated figures and shadows in the room. When she saw him lying motionless, she ran to him and nestled by his side, refusing to move away.
And so she remained for hours.
Nynaeve tried to speak more, to explain, to comfort, but Helena wouldn't listen. She was absorbed, her eyes fixed on Rand's pale face, as if all her hope depended on his next breath.
It was in this state that he finally awoke—in the midst of the dead city's darkness, he began to vomit.
"No!" Helena screamed, hugging him even tighter. "Stay here! Stay with me!"
He felt the warmth of the small body pressing against him, as if the girl wanted to ensure he wouldn't disappear again. With a gentle effort, he raised his hand and stroked her hair, disheveled and soft.
"Hey, sweetheart... I'm back," he said, with a weak but genuine smile.
It was the first time he called her that without hesitation, without stiffness or awkwardness. The word came out naturally, as if it had always been there, just waiting to be said.
In the past hours, Rand had relived two decades of memories—of discoveries, dangers, wonders... and loneliness. He had sought knowledge, yes. He had faced horrors, learned magics, confronted monsters. But throughout that journey, he had been almost always alone—or surrounded by magical creatures that served as strange substitutes for a family he had to abandon.
This time, he decided it would be different. Helena was his daughter now. By blood, after the ritual, but now he truly accepted her as his daughter. He would be the figure she needed—a real father, someone with whom she would share laughter, sorrows, and discoveries.
Gradually, Helena's crying subsided. She pulled back a little, her eyes still teary, and sniffled hard.
"Hi, Dad..." she said timidly. "I missed you so much... I thought I was going to be alone again..."
Rand pinched her nose with his fingers, making her let out a muffled giggle.
"Hey, silly girl, I'd never abandon you. I just got a little sleepy... and took a nap," he replied, with a crooked smile.
She crossed her arms and pouted, turning her face as if sulking.
"That's not funny," she muttered.
"It was to me," he said, still smiling, and shrugged as if that was enough.
Soon Egwene approached. Her eyes shone with relief, and she said nothing as she knelt beside him. She simply enveloped him in a tight, lingering hug. When she pulled away, there was something unspoken in her gaze—concern and affection mixed together.
Nynaeve came right after, arms crossed and frowning as always.
"You should be more careful, Rand al'Thor. Next time, warn us before you faint and leave everyone worried," she said firmly. But her expression softened when she added, "I'm glad you're okay."
Further back, seated on cloaks spread over the cold floor of the building, were Moiraine and Lan. The Aes Sedai seemed to be resting, eyes closed, face serene—but Rand knew she was alert. Lan, beside her, watched in silence.
Thom Merrilin was leaning against one of the stone columns, cleaning a dagger with a torn piece of cloth. He glanced up for a moment and gave a discreet nod.
"Good to have you back, boy."
Rand responded with a similar gesture to Thom, the fatigue still evident in his eyes, but his attention soon turned to the group around him. He looked around, frowning.
"Where are Mat and Perrin?" he asked, his voice still hoarse but alert.
Egwene stepped forward, sensing his concern.
"They went out to gather wood for the fire. It's been a while..." she said, a note of unease in her voice.
Nynaeve huffed, crossing her arms impatiently.
"I bet Mat is up to something. As always," she grumbled, rolling her eyes.
Rand sighed but said nothing. Instead, he calmly requested:
"Could you all step back a bit? I'd like to try standing up."
The three exchanged glances, hesitated for a moment, but eventually stepped back a few paces. With a slight hand movement, Rand made the magical trunk appear beside him. The girls blinked, surprised to see it materialize in his hands as if it had always been there.
Without a word, Rand opened it with familiarity and began retrieving the items he needed. From inside, he once again pulled out the magical tent—spacious inside, discreet outside—and set it up with a few skillful gestures.
Seeing that brought a breath of relief to the group. The gloomy and cold atmosphere of Shadar Logoth still lingered in the air, but now there was a comfortable and safe place for everyone to rest. A magical tent not only offered protection... but also something valuable: a good bath, clean clothes, and hot food—luxuries everyone longed for after the tension and fear of that place.
"All set." Rand turned to the others with a half-smile. "Come in, each of you has your own room. The food will be ready soon."
He led Helena inside the tent, and before fully entering, turned and spoke in a firm yet calm voice:
"Lily."
The house-elf appeared with a subtle pop, her large, curious eyes scanning the surroundings with an uncertain expression.
"Master Rand?"
"Prepare something for everyone to eat.