The Fires of Heaven Audiobook
The Fires of Heaven Audiobook 🎧 The Wheel of Time
The fifth novel in Robert Jordan’s #1 New York Times bestselling epic fantasy series, The Wheel of Time, The Fires of Heaven, pits four of the most powerful Forsaken against the Champion of Light, Rand al’Thor.
After being prophesied to destroy the Dark One, Rand al’Thor, the Dragon Reborn, has upset the power balance across the land. The Shaido Aiel advance, annihilating everything in their path. Amyrlin, the White Tower’s ruler, has been deposed, pitting the Aes Sedai against one another. Shadowspawn has seized control of Rhuidean, a forbidden city.
Despite the chaos around him, Rand continues to learn how to control his powers, desperate to wield the One Power—at great personal cost to Moiraine Damodred’s advice.
Since its release in 1990, Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time has captivated millions of readers around the world with its vastness, creativity, and intriguing characters. PBS’s The Great American Read chose The Eye of the World as one of America’s best-loved novels, and the last six books in the series were all instant #1 New York Times bestsellers.
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All in white silk she was the one without a shawl, the stole of the keeper around her shoulders was white. Also to show she had been raised from the white adja, not red elida’s, former arja, as tradition held, whites were always cool. The trollocks might as well have vanished. The entire blight seems quiet enough for two farmers and a novice to guard teslan’s bony fingers shuffled papers on her lap, though she did not look at them. One of four red sisters there more than any other oddja.
She ran elida a close second for severity, though no one had ever thought her beautiful better. Perhaps if it did no be so quiet, teslan said her iliana accent strong. I did receive a message this morning that the marshal general of salve does have an army on the move, no toward the blight, but in the opposite direction, south and east. He would know ever have done that if the blight did not seem to be asleep, then word of masram taem is seeping out, alviarin could have been discussing the weather or the price of carpets instead of a potential disaster, much effort had gone into capturing and as Much into hiding his escape no good to the tower. If the world learned, they could not hold on to a false dragon once he was taken, and it seems that queen tanobia or davram bashir or both thinks we cannot be trusted to deal with him again.
Dead quiet fell at the mention of taim. The man could channel. He had been on his way to tar valley to be gentled cut off from the one power forever when he was broken free. Yet that was not what curbed tongues once the existence of a man able to channel the one power had been the deepest anathema hunting. Such men down was the main reason of existence for the red and every ajah helped as it could, but now most of the women beyond the table shifted on their stools, refusing to meet each other’s eyes because, speaking of brought them too close to another subject, they Did not want to speak aloud even elida felt bile rise in her stomach.
Apparently alvaren experienced no such reluctance, one corner of her mouth quirked momentarily in what might have been smile or grimace. I will re-double our efforts to retake taim and i suggest that a sister be dispatched to counsel tenobia. Someone used to overcoming the sort of stubborn resistance that young woman will put up. Others rushed to help fill the silence. Jolene shifted her green fringed shawl on slender’s shoulders and smiled, though it seemed a bit forced.
Yes, she needs an eye to die at her shoulder someone able to handle bashir. He has excessive influence with tenobia. He must move his army back where it can be used. If the blight wakes up too much bosom showed in the gap of her shawl and her pale, green silk was too snug too clinging, and she smiled too much for elijah’s liking, especially at men. Greens always did.
The last thing we need now is another army. On the march shemer in the yellow sisters said quickly a slightly plump woman. She had somehow never really managed the outward calm of eyes to die. There was often a strain of anxiety around her eyes and, more so of late and someone to shine our added javindra. Another red, despite smooth cheeks, her angular face, was hard enough to hammer nails.
Her voice was harsh. I don’t like trouble of this sort in the borderlands. The last thing we need is shinar weakening itself to the point where a trollic army could break through, perhaps alvaren nodded considering. But there are agents in shinar red, i am sure, and perhaps others the four red sisters nodded tightly reluctantly. No one else did who can warn us if these small clashes become anything to worry us.
It was an open secret that every arja, except the white, devoted to logic and philosophy, as it was had watchers and listeners scattered through the nations to varying degrees, though the yellow network was believed to be a pitiful thing. There was nothing of sickness or healing they could learn from those who could not channel some individual sisters had their own eyes and ears, though, perhaps even more closely guarded than agents of the objects. The blues had had the most extensive, both odja and personal. As for tanobia and davram bashir, alvaren went on, are we agreed that they must be dealt with by sisters? She hardly waited for heads to nod good, it is done.
Memara will do nicely. She will take no nonsense from tinobia while never letting her see the leash. Now does anyone have fresh word out of our domain or tarabon? If we do not do something there soon, we may find that pedro and niall and the white cloaks have sway from bandar eben to the shadow coast ivana line you have something arad, oman and tarabon were racked by civil wars and worse. There was no order anywhere.
Elida was surprised they would bring it up. Only a rumor, the gray sister replied, her silk dress, matching the fringe on her shawl was finally cut and scooped low. At the neck. Often elida thought the woman should have been green so concerned. Was she with her looks and clothes?
Almost everyone in those poor lands is a refugee, including those who might send news. The panork amithera has apparently vanished, and it seems an eyes to die, may have been involved, elijah’s hand tightened on her stole nothing touched her face, but her eyes, smoldered, the matter of the seldayan army was done. At least mamara was red. That was a surprise, but they had not even asked her opinion. It was done.
The startling possibility that an eyes sadai was involved in the disappearance of the pan ark. If this was not another of the thousand improbable tales that drifted from the western coast could not take illida’s mind from that, there were eyes to die scattered from the rf ocean to the spine of the world, and the blues at least, might do anything less than Two months since they had all knelt to swear fealty to her as the embodiment of the white tower and now the decision was made without so much as a glance in her direction. The amerlin study sat only a few levels up in the white tower, yet this room was the heart of the tower. As surely as the tower itself, the color of bleached bone was the heart of the great island city of tarvalen cradled in the river aaron and or should be the heart of the world. The room spoke of the power wielded by the long line of women who had occupied it floor of polished, redstone from the mountains of mist, tall, fireplace of golden kandori, marble walls paneled in pale oddly striped wood, marvelously carved with unknown birds and beasts.
More than a thousand years ago, stone like glittering pearls, framed the tall arched windows that led on to the balcony, overlooking the amerlin’s private garden. The only stone like it known salvaged from a nameless city swallowed by the sea of storms during the breaking of the world. A room of power, a reflection of armor lens who had made thrones dance to their calling for nearly three thousand years, and they did not even ask her opinion. It happened too often, this sliding worst most bitter of all. Perhaps they usurped her authority without even thinking of it, they knew how she had come to the stole knew their aid had put it on her shoulders.
She herself had been too much aware of that, but they presumed too far. It would soon be time to do something about that, but not quite yet. She had put her own stamp on the room as much as possible with a writing table ornately carved in triple linked rings and a heavy chair that raised an inlaid ivory flame of tarvalen. Above her dark hair, like a large snowy teardrop, three boxes of altar and lacquer work were arranged on the table precisely equidistant from each other. One held the finest of her collection of carved miniatures, a white vase on a simple plinth against one wall held red roses that filled the room with sweet fragrance.
There had been no rain since she was raised, but fine blossoms were always available with the power she’d. Always liked flowers, they could be so easily pruned and trained to produce beauty. Paintings hung where seated she could see them merely by lifting her head. The others avoided looking at them among all the eyes to die, who came to elida’s study, only alviarin ever so much as glanced at them. Is there any news of elaine and daya asked diffidently a thin bird-like little woman, outwardly timid, despite eyes to die features.
The second grey looked an unlikely mediator, but was, in fact one of the best. There were still faint traces of tariban in her voice or galad. If more gays discovered all in white silk, she was the one without a shawl. The stole of the keeper around her shoulders was white. Also to show she had been raised from the white adja, not red elida’s, former odja, as tradition held, whites were always cool.
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