The right to rule Andor and rescue the Forsaken

Over time, even a small increase in return is multiplied many times over. And the growth of the kingdom had been nothing short of spectacular. The number of people living within its borders had doubled every ten years for three hundred years, and now it was home to more than two million souls.

The first thing that struck Nynaeve al'Meara when she entered the room was how clean it was. Everything was immaculately polished and dusted, with fresh flowers placed at each table. It looked like a place where business was conducted, not a place where men drank and argued about politics. She knew that wasn't right; she'd seen drunken soldiers and merchants before. But this felt different. This felt... better.

She turned toward the back wall, which displayed maps of all the known nations on Randland. There were a few names she recognized: Emond's Field, her village, was marked as such. There was also a large black spot on the map, just above Tar Valon. The Dark One's handprint.

Source
Nynaeve took a seat near the head of one of the tables, where a woman who looked to be no older than twenty-five sat waiting. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she wore an expression of boredom. Nynaeve wondered if she had ever smiled or laughed. She would have bet good money that she hadn't.

"I'm sorry we're late," Nynaeve said, "but I hope you weren't expecting only one of us."

The young woman raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "You are Nynaeve al'Meara?"

"Yes."

"And your companion is Elayne Trakan", she said pointing to an already sitting lady.

Elayne stood up, smiling broadly.

"We've heard so much about you!"

"As well you should," the woman replied, looking between them. "You are the most powerful Aes Sedai in recent memory. You both carry the same name, yet you bear no resemblance to each other. How did this happen?"

"We don't know," Nynaeve said. "Our parents died when we were very young, and we grew up together. We never learned who our father was, but our mother was from the Two Rivers."

"And what happened after that?" the woman asked.

"We went to the White Tower," Elayne said. "We trained there, then left and came here. We didn't know who we were, but we knew we needed to find out."

"That is a story I wish to hear," the woman said. "Please, sit down."
They sat.

"It is my understanding," the woman continued, "that you both bear the same name. Is this true?"

"Yes," Nynaeve said. "But I'm not certain why. I think it has something to do with the fact that we both share the same birth date. It doesn't seem to matter what day we were born, though; we can both channel the One Power."

"Interesting," the woman said. "Why haven't you used it?"

"I have," Nynaeve said. "When I fought the Dark One during the War of the Shadow. I nearly lost control of it, though. It was only because of the bond between us that I managed to pull myself back."

"What about you, Elayne?" the woman asked.

"I've never really tried," Elayne admitted. "I always assumed I couldn't".

"Then why did you leave the Tower?"

"Because I didn't want to die,"

Elayne said. "If I hadn't left, they would have killed me."

"And what of you?" the woman asked.

"You were there. You saw what they did. Why didn't you try to stop them?"

"I was afraid," Nynaeve said. "I thought if I tried to fight them, I'd fail. They'd kill me."

"That makes sense," the woman said.

"Very well. Now that we understand each other, I will tell you why I called you here today."

"We're listening," Nynaeve said.

"You are powerful," the woman said.

"Both of you. More powerful than any sisters in the last five hundred years. Your strength is matched only by your intelligence. You are wise beyond your years. You are strong enough to stand against the strongest of the Forsaken and clever enough to figure out a way to defeat them. You are two of the most powerful women in the world, and yet you have lived a life of relative obscurity. Why is that?"

"I don't know," Nynaeve said. "I've never really considered it."

"Neither have I," Elayne added. "It just seems that way."

"Well, consider it now," the woman said. "You are important, both of you. You are the first Aes Sedai in five centuries to bear the name Trakand. You are linked by blood and fate. You are the only ones who could possibly claim the throne of Andor."

"The throne of Andor?" Nynaeve asked. "But we're from the Two Rivers."

"You may be from the Two Rivers, but you are Rand al'Thor's kin. His half-sisters. That means you are of royal lineage. The people of the Two Rivers love you as their own daughters. You have a duty to them. You must rule Andor."

"Ruling?" Nynaeve asked. "Me? What does ruling even mean?"

"Think of it this way," the woman said. "A king rules over his kingdom, and his kingdom is ruled by him. He decides how to run it, who to give positions of power to, and what laws he wants to enforce. It is a complicated system, but the point remains: a ruler controls the kingdom, and the kingdom exists for the benefit of the rulers."

"But I'm not a queen," Nynaeve protested. "I'm just a simple village girl."

"Queen or not, you are a member of the royal line," the woman said. "You are descended from the Dragon Reborn. That gives you the right to rule Andor."

"But I don't want to rule Andor!"

Nynaeve exclaimed. "I've spent my entire life trying to avoid that sort of responsibility. Why should I have to take on such a burden?"

"Because you are Rand al'Thor's kin," the woman said. "His blood runs through your veins. Because you are Aes Sedai. And because you are strong enough to do what needs to be done."

Nynaeve looked at Elayne. "Do you see what she's saying?"

Elayne nodded. "She thinks we're strong enough to lead Andor."

"No," Nynaeve said. "She doesn't think that. She knows it."

"You are the only ones who can do it," the woman said. "And you are the only ones who can stop the Shadow."

"Stop the Shadow?" Nynaeve asked.

"What do you mean?"

"It is coming, Nynaeve," the woman said. "Soon, it will come to pass. I have seen it. I know what is going to happen. I know that you are the only ones who can prevent it."

"How?" Nynaeve asked. "What do we need to do?"

"There is a man named Moghedien," the woman said. "He is one of the Forsaken. He has been searching for something called the Horn of Valere.

The horn is the key to the Last Battle, the final battle between the Shadow and the Light. The Forsaken seek to use it to open the Dark One's prison, to free him. If they succeed, the end of the world will begin."

"That sounds bad," Nynaeve said.
"It is very bad," the woman agreed. "I cannot let the Forsaken have the horn. I am not strong enough to face them alone. The Last Battle will require every ounce of strength the world has to offer. Only you and Elayne can save us. You must go to Tear, where Moghedien is hiding. Find the horn, and destroy it."

"Tear?" Nynaeve asked. "Why would we go to Tear?"

"Because that is where the Forsaken are," the woman said. "They are waiting for you there."

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PS: You know how the Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty story has been retold over and over again in different forms, settings, and contexts. This is the exact thing I tried to do with this story. You could say, this was inspired by the book character, Nynaeve al'Meara, in the Wheel of Fate.

You can read summarizes and other descriptions I picked up from the internet here and here.