Book five was not my favorite. It felt like it was going all over the place, and I was genuinely disappointed by how little Asmodean we got. I really wanted to see him teach Rand—actually school him a bit. Even if Rand’s learning mostly happened in the background, I wanted something: moments where we see progress, mistakes, or consequences.

Instead, we jump from the end of book five straight into Rand opening gateways and doing absolutely wild things. It feels unearned. Where is him failing? Where is him trying a weave that blows back in his face? Where is the struggle? Without that, the power escalation feels disconnected from the journey.

Strengths: Nynaeve, Elayne, and Tel’aran’rhiod

The strongest part of the narrative, by far, was Nynaeve and Elayne. Their storyline consistently carried the book for me. Everything else—including the battle near Cairhien—felt underwhelming in comparison.

That said, one major improvement was the way Tel’aran’rhiod, the World of Dreams, was finally explored in a meaningful way. I do mean finally! Before this book, it mostly functioned as a narrative excuse—an extra magic system where anything could happen without much explanation.

Here, however, we begin to see actual structure with rules, layers, and consequences. It becomes a real driver of the plot rather than just a shortcut, and some of the most interesting parts of the story live there.

I do wish the book clarified more details, especially about entering the Dream “in the flesh.” What does that mean, exactly? What actually happens to Rand when he does it? These are central ideas, and they feel just under-explained.

Fear, Responsibility, and Foils

One of the strongest thematic threads in the book is fear.

Nynaeve and Moghedien are essentially foils. Nynaeve has to learn to accept her fear—not drown it out or ignore it, but acknowledge it. She is a fearful person, and growth comes from facing that honestly.

Moghedien, on the other hand, fights her fear constantly. She rejects it, and in doing so rejects her shadow. That’s what makes her both terrifying and fascinating: she will do anything not to be afraid, including murder. Fear controls her just as much as it controls Nynaeve—just in the opposite direction.

We also see this choice mirrored through Birgitte. Nynaeve repeatedly has the opportunity to become something defined by fear or avoidance, and each time she tries—imperfectly—to do better. She doesn’t always succeed, but she tries, and that matters.

Another theme I appreciated was responsibility. The book pushes back on the idea that a hero must always rush in and risk their life. Sometimes strategy matters. Sometimes the real question is: if something happens to me, what happens to everyone else?

Narratively, this works well for Rand—even if it’s also kind of funny. He’s leading people while having absolutely no idea how to lead. But honestly, that tracks. Kings and queens often rule long before they know how.

Politics That Should Have Hit Harder

The Elaida plot was underwhelming, especially with Padon Fan (or broader political consequences) just sort of disappearing from relevance. There’s clearly a power vacuum, and people should be scrambling to fill it—but we barely see that.

The same goes for the Rebel Aes Sedai. I wanted more tension, more political maneuvering. When Siuan Sanche steps in and essentially says, “Just announce yourself,” it’s almost laughable. You’re telling me no one else thought of that? What are the politics here? The lack of exploration makes the situation feel thinner than it should.

Character Progress Isn’t Linear—and That’s a Good Thing

One thing the series continues to do well is showing characters evolve and regress. Progress isn’t linear, because life isn’t linear. You move forward, you move backward, then forward again—but you’re always in motion. The story reflects that reality in a way I really appreciate.

That said, Egwene is largely sidelined in this book. She exists to move the plot along but doesn’t meaningfully add to it. By the time we leave the Aiel Waste, her arc kind of dives. It’s still nice to see her, but she feels underused.

Moiraine’s Sacrifice

My favorite part of the book—without question—was Moiraine’s sacrifice.

Honestly, if that had been the ending, I think the book would have been stronger. Instead, we cram a massive battle into just a few chapters afterward, and it dilutes the impact.

Moiraine believes she is going to die. And even knowing (theoretically) that she returns much later—spoilers—it’s powerful to watch someone live as though every moment counts. She commits fully to her mission, right up to the end, willing to sacrifice everything.

That moment was badass. It felt earned, and it mattered.