SciFi and Fantasy
SciFi and Fantasy

SciFi and Fantasy

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Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender Season Two Gets a Release Date
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Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender Season Two Gets a Release Date

News Avatar: The Last Airbender Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender Season Two Gets a Release Date The live-action series will continue in June By Molly Templeton | Published on March 31, 2026 Image: Netflix Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Netflix More than two years after the first season, Netflix is finally ready to deliver more Avatar: The Last Airbender. The streamer announced the news today via a cute little behind-the-scenes video (below) that features the stars talking about how the second season is a “level up.” Netflix also offered a fairly lengthy synopsis for season two: After a bittersweet victory saving the Northern Water Tribe from the invading Fire Nation, Avatar Aang (Gordon Cormier), Katara (Kiawentiio), and Sokka (Ian Ousley) regroup and set off on a mission to convince the elusive Earth King to aid in their battle against fearsome Fire Lord Ozai (Daniel Dae Kim).Their journey to the impenetrable city of Ba Sing Se, home of the Earth King, is treacherous but also fruitful — Aang discovers Toph (Miyako), an audacious young master of earthbending, and convinces her to help him add earthbending to his powers of airbending and waterbending.But even the city’s mighty walls cannot keep the Fire Nation’s forces at bay. Prince Zuko (Dallas Liu) continues his quest to capture the Avatar — made even more difficult by his status as a fugitive traitor from the Fire Nation, and a nagging conscience that makes him question whether he is on the right path. Even worse for our heroes, his formidable sister, Princess Azula (Elizabeth Yu) now joins the fray. But the most dangerous enemies of all may be those unseen, for soon the Avatar and his companions will learn: Nothing is as it seems in a city of walls and secrets. This season will bring a whole gaggle of new characters: Chin Han (Mortal Kombat, Skyscraper) as Long Feng  Hoa Xuande (The Sympathizer, Top of the Lake: China Girl) as Professor Zei Justin Chien (The Brothers Sun, The Great Leap) as King Kuei Amanda Zhou (Spinning Out, The Handmaid’s Tale) as Joo Dee Crystal Yu (Doctor Who, Good Omens) as Lady Beifong Kelemete Misipeka (Sons of Thunder) as The Boulder Lourdes Faberes (The Sandman, Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre) as General Sung Rekha Sharma (Yellowjackets, Battlestar Galactica) as Amita Terry Chen (Lucky Star, Jessica Jones, House of Cards) as Jeong Jeong Dolly de Leon (Triangle of Sadness, Between the Temples, Ghostlight) as Lo and Li  Lily Gao (Blue Sun Palace, Twisted Metal, Slip) as Ursa Madison Hu (The Brothers Sun, The Boogeyman) as Fei Dichen Lachman (Severance, Jurassic World: Dominion, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes) as Yangchen Avatar: The Last Airbender was renewed for seasons two and three at once, and filmed both seasons—so in theory you won’t have that long to wait between them. Season two premieres June 25 on Netflix.[end-mark] The post Netflix’s <i>Avatar: The Last Airbender</i> Season Two Gets a Release Date appeared first on Reactor.

Omen III: The Final Conflict Ended Armageddon With a Whimper
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Omen III: The Final Conflict Ended Armageddon With a Whimper

Movies & TV The Omen Omen III: The Final Conflict Ended Armageddon With a Whimper Starring a young Sam Neill, the third Omen film had the chance to be something special… and whiffed it. By Don Kaye | Published on March 31, 2026 Image: 20th Century Studios Comment 0 Share New Share Image: 20th Century Studios Produced for under $3 million, starring Gregory Peck and directed by a then-unknown Richard Donner, The Omen was one of the seminal horror hits of the 1970s. Riding on the coattails of films like The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby, as well as the bogus end-times prophecies of authors like Hal Lindsey and the burgeoning Satanic Panic hysteria, the 1976 film about the birth of the Antichrist into a wealthy political family was a tremendous hit, earning a then-staggering $61 million at the worldwide box office. Critics at the time were cool to the film, but over the years The Omen has been reappraised as one of the more effective Hollywood horror thrillers of its era. Its success led, of course, to a sequel, and in 1978 Damien: Omen II—in which a teenaged Antichrist discovers his true identity and begins to embrace it—was released to an even harsher critical reception and less turnout at the box office, although its $46 million gross (on a budget of under $7 million) was enough to convince 20th Century Fox to move forward with a third film, titled The Final Conflict (later renamed Omen III: The Final Conflict for home video release). The Final Conflict, directed by Graham Baker and starring a young Sam Neill as the now-adult Damien Thorn, was released in 1981 and billed—as its title implied—as the concluding chapter in the Omen story: Damien would complete his rise and the world would fall under his thumb unless he was stopped by the forces of good (or, in this case, the second coming of Christ). Yet the film earned even less money—just over $20 million—and the critics were especially negative this time out, presumably putting an end to the series. Producer Harvey Bernhard, the driving force behind the Omen movies, had initially envisioned a franchise that could yield as many as seven films. David Seltzer, who had penned the screenplay for the original Omen, said that while he had no interest in writing any more of the movies, he would have provided—if asked—a bible laying out ideas for another six films. But then Bernhard decided to cap the series at three movies: “We had to kill [Damien] sometime,” Bernhard says in the documentary 666: The Omen Revealed. “He had to die.” Both The Omen and Damien: Omen II focused on a then-novel question: what if the Antichrist, only a child and unaware of his destiny, was placed into an environment—aided by helpful Satanists who manipulate themselves into key positions around him—by which he could prosper and eventually find himself holding the levers of political and economic power? And what if his unseen father assisted in clearing the path for him by cleverly killing off anyone who stood in his way through a series of bizarre, “coincidental” accidents? This was all supposed to be part of a Biblical prophecy, found (according to the story’s mythology) in the last chapter of the New Testament, the Book of Revelation. The Antichrist would garner immense worldwide power as he readied himself for a final, apocalyptic battle with a resurrected Jesus Christ, with their confrontation either ending the world or cleansing it of evil once and for all. So one might have reasonably expected The Final Conflict to follow through with an epic, climactic clash between the devil’s son and his opposite number. But that didn’t happen, and the series ended on a desultory note in an abandoned church, rather than on the plain of Megiddo with the armies of God and Satan facing each other. As the film opens, a 32-year-old Damien is consolidating his power: he’s now head of his family corporation, Thorn Industries, which controls the production and distribution of much of the world’s food supply. He’s also just been appointed U.S. ambassador to Great Britain, the same post his father Robert Thorn (Gregory Peck) held in the first movie, following the mysterious suicide of the previous ambassador. His financial, global, and political leverage steadily growing, Damien is nonetheless haunted by signs that the second coming of Christ is imminent. Meanwhile, seven priests, each armed with one of the Seven Deadly Daggers of Megiddo (the only weapons that can destroy Damien), make multiple attempts to assassinate him, each ending with a priest’s gruesome demise. As it becomes clear that Christ has been reborn somewhere in England, Damien musters his worldwide legion of followers—including a young boy whose journalist mother (Lisa Harrow) he’s become romantically involved with—to kill every male child born in the U.K. on the date of Christ’s rebirth, thus preventing him from ending Damien’s reign. The first two Omen films are best remembered now for their elaborate death sequences, a gimmick later picked up by the Final Destination films. Every time someone gets close to discovering the truth about Damien, or alerting his adopted family to that truth, they get killed in an inexplicable “accident.” The first entry was famous for its stunning decapitation of a photographer played by David Warner and the impalement of a priest portrayed by one-time Doctor Who star Patrick Troughton, while the second movie featured a doctor sliced in half by an elevator cable and Lew Ayres drowning horribly under a frozen lake, among 10 or 11 others. Halfway through the second movie, one of Satan’s minions notifies 12-year-old Damien (Jonathan Scott Taylor) of his actual lineage, a burden he first rejects but eventually comes to accept. Therein lies one of the main problems with The Final Conflict: the first film focused on the mystery of Damien’s birth, the second on whether he would come to terms with his identity, with initially disbelieving protagonists like Gregory Peck and William Holden eventually realizing he must be destroyed. In the third film, Damien is ostensibly the protagonist himself—a plot point that execs at 20th Century Fox took issue with. “Fox said, ‘We realized that Damien is the hero of the piece,’” recalls The Final Conflict screenwriter Andrew Birkin in the Omen Revealed doc. “’We don’t know if that can work.’” Birkin’s solution was to beef up the role of Father DeCarlo (Rossano Brazzi), the leader of the Christian hit squad that’s out to nail Damien with the Seven Deadly Daggers. This also provided the film with the opportunity to stage more of the deaths that the series was famous for, although by the third film, the macabre set pieces had lost much of their impact and inspiration—and didn’t really fit comfortably into the occult/political thriller that Birkin had penned (it doesn’t help that DeCarlo’s team is inept and outmatched every step of the way). Even thornier (no pun intended) was the third act scenario in which Damien orders the murder of all newborn male babies in the U.K. to stop one of them from growing up to be Jesus. In an increasingly unpleasant montage, five of the killings (out of what is supposed to be a total of 31) are featured—although the filmmakers did not go as far as to show them in graphic detail. One—involving the child of one of Damien’s own henchmen (Don Gordon)—is so strangely staged (the mother has a vision of the baby as a mummy) that it almost evokes laughter. But The Final Conflict’s most disappointing aspect is that the title bout never actually happens. In the film, the “Christ child” is safely hidden away by Father DeCarlo, who then works with Harrow’s Kate Reynolds to lure Damien to an abandoned church, where Kate can snatch her son back from the influence of the Antichrist and Father DeCarlo can stick a Deadly Dagger into him. Unfortunately, Kate’s son takes the knife instead, but Kate manages to retrieve it and stab Damien herself. He dies as a glowing image of Christ appears amidst the ruins of the church. “You have won… nothing,” Damien snarls at his nemesis as he collapses, with Biblical verses filling the screen and the music turning from ominous to triumphant. I remember seeing this for the first time and thinking, “That’s it?” Making Damien himself the protagonist—although that’s quite different from the “hero”—gave the film a weird, off-balance structure to begin with, but then building him up only to kill him off in a ruined church, with a hologram of the adult Christ (still just a newborn at this point) projected above him, was a far cry from the apocalyptic battles, suffering of millions, and ultimate face-off between Christ and the Antichrist that the series’ prophecy foretold. Of course, with a relatively modest budget of $6 million or so, an actual “final conflict” between the armies of good and evil was almost certainly never going to happen onscreen. In fact, 20th Century Fox—which was going through some management upheavals at the time—refused to pay for Sam Neill’s airfare when he flew to England to audition for the role of Damien. His mentor, famed actor James Mason, covered the cost himself to help his young protégé (although Mason was apparently reimbursed). That alone perhaps says a lot about what the studio was willing to invest in the franchise at that point. As for Sam Neill, appearing here after his breakout role in My Brilliant Career, you can almost visibly see him struggling to find the right tone for the part. At times he’s quite good: on a one-to-one basis, he can be charming, calculating, even seductive—qualities that the Antichrist might in fact deploy in order to convert people to his cause. Neill has several chilling moments as well, but in the several monologues he is given (often performed in a secret lair where he keeps a statue of Christ crucified backwards), he sounds less terrifying and more like he’s just hectoring. Part of the problem stems from what I noted earlier: is Damien supposed to be the protagonist? Are we supposed to empathize with him? And if not, who? Overall, Neill has enough natural presence to make him watchable, while the rest of the cast is largely unmemorable. The movie’s other strong points? Graham Baker, directing his second feature film after coming up with the likes of Ridley Scott in the world of commercials, makes much of this film perhaps the most visually impressive of the series. And Jerry Goldsmith’s score—don’t forget, he won an Oscar for the first film—remains as haunting and portentous as ever. But even if The Final Conflict had a bigger budget and the full resources of the studio behind it, portraying this ultimate Biblical battle between good and evil in truly spectacular fashion might be a difficult feat to pull off. May I present as evidence the Left Behind movies, based on a series of violent novels co-authored by evangelical minister Tim LaHaye and writer Jerry B. Jenkins. The books chronicle everything the Omen films only hinted at, including the Great Tribulation, the establishment of a new world order under the Antichrist (sending the world’s Christians into hiding), the Rapture, and the final victory of a reborn Jesus Christ. The books led to the production of five films, of which only two were released in theaters (the rest went directly to home video): 2000’s Left Behind: The Movie, starring Kirk Cameron, and 2014’s Left Behind, with Nicolas Cage headlining. The movies were slammed by critics (both secular and Christian, it should be noted) and audiences for their shoddy production values, cheap visuals, bad acting, and incoherent scripting. Meanwhile, 20th Century Fox (now 20th Century Studios) has tried to wring a few more bucks out of The Omen with only varying degrees of success. The universally panned TV movie Omen IV: The Awakening premiered on the Fox network in May 1991. Some 15 years later, the studio tried again with The Omen, a direct remake of the original film that critics called inert and pointless, although it was blessed with a worldwide gross of $120 million. Next, the more positively received 2024 prequel The First Omen ended where the original movie begins, seemingly bringing the series full circle. Perhaps the studio will one day take a chance on The Final Conflict again—and this time give Armageddon the treatment it deserves.[end-mark] The post <i>Omen III: The Final Conflict</i> Ended Armageddon With a Whimper appeared first on Reactor.

Five Time Travel Stories About Taking Out Hitler
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Five Time Travel Stories About Taking Out Hitler

Books Time Travel Five Time Travel Stories About Taking Out Hitler Exploring very different takes on a familiar thought experiment. By Lorna Wallace | Published on March 31, 2026 Comment 3 Share New Share It’s a familiar question in time travel narratives: If you could go back in time and kill Adolf Hitler, would you? Sometimes, of course, there are time travel rules in place that prevent such interference; for instance, in About Time (2013) time travelers can only go back to moments in their own pasts. But there are plenty of other stories where the opportunity does present itself (although not everyone is able to follow through with it, including antihero Deadpool). While the basic premise—removing Hitler from existence in some way (often as a baby, or before he can be born)—is sometimes only briefly touched on in time travel narratives, there are a number of stories that explore the problems and ramifications of such an action in a bit more depth. Here are five short stories (well, four stories and one comic, which is arguably a short story with art) that do just that. “I Killed Hitler” by Ralph Milne Farley (1941) Just a few years into World War II—before America had even joined the fight—Ralph Milne Farley wrote the earliest known story about using time travel to kill Hitler. The unnamed main character is one of the Nazi leader’s distant cousins but he lives half a world away in Massachusetts. He’s deeply unhappy about Hitler’s warmongering—partly because the genocidal leader’s actions are unequivocally wrong, but also partly (and honestly… largely) because being drafted into the war is going to interfere with our narrator’s painting career. After complaining to a friend about all the Allies who haven’t taken the chance to assassinate Hitler during their face-to-face meetings, our protagonist gets the chance to go back in time and murder the Führer while he’s still a young boy. Although the outcome is now a fairly basic rendition of the theme, this story remains notable for being the first take on the idea. “I Killed Adolf Hitler” by Jason (2006) Set in a world where being a killer-for-hire is a legitimate profession, this comic book sees our protagonist, an anthropomorphic dog who is once again unnamed, take on an unusual job: killing Hitler. The time machine that sends him back only has enough energy for one round trip every 50 years, so it’s crucial that he doesn’t mess it up—which, of course, he does. Not only does he fail to kill Hitler, but the Führer uses the time machine’s one ride back to the present and then promptly blends in with modern society. Our hitman still needs to finish the job, though, and now he’s tasked with tracking down the Nazi leader, in spite of the fact that he’s much older once he’s caught up to his target (because, after being stranded in the past, he had to live through the years to get back to the present). He decides to enlist the help of his (now much younger) ex-girlfriend and the journey they go on together is filled with both dry humor and unexpectedly tender moments. Sure, their goal might be murder, but there’s still room for touching character growth along the way… “Missives from Possible Futures #1: Alternate History Search Results” by John Scalzi (2007) Written in the second person, this short story sees you sampling a technology called Multiversity, which is essentially Google Search for the multiverse. You enter “THE DEATH OF ADOLF HITLER”—one of the most popular searches—and are shown eight sample realities based on the various ways that Hitler has died in alternate histories. This story is short and sweet, with only a few sentences outlining each scenario (although you’re informed that you can get a more detailed breakdown for the low, low price of $59.95!). The hilarious scenarios become increasingly unhinged (and one does explicitly feature time travel!), but because there are only eight I don’t want to spoil any of them by going into too much detail, here. What I will say is that I would absolutely pay to find out more about the squids in Scenario #8… This short story served as the basis for the “Alternate Histories” episode in the first season of Love, Death & Robots—so if this concept seems familiar to you, that might be why. “Wikihistory” by Desmond Warzel (2011) “Wikihistory” is written entirely as a series of online forum posts from members of the International Association of Time Travelers. The first post in the story comes from FreedomFighter69, a new member of the IATT who is celebrating their first excursion: going to the opening of the 1936 Olympic Games to kill Hitler. SilverFox316 is none too impressed with this move and a few minutes later posts to say that they’ve successfully gone back and stopped FreedomFighter69. Much to the frustration of SilverFox316, new members continue making this same mistake (which could be avoided if they’d simply read Bulletin 1147 as they’ve been repeatedly asked to do!). The forum format is inventive, the time travel plot is chaotically fun, and the bickering dynamic between the posters feels hilariously true to life. “It’s OK to Say if You Went Back in Time and Killed Baby Hitler” by Jo Lindsay Walton (2018) This is another short story written in the second person; this time you’re a member of a small group of anti-fascists intent on using a time travel rig to kill baby Hitler. Umeko volunteers for the gruesome mission and when she returns, she’s confident that she got the job done. But then she learns that history hasn’t changed, which makes no sense because she’s certain that she beheaded baby Hitler. While the group squabble over this unexpected result, you as the protagonist take the opportunity to slip into the rig and go back to 1890 to figure out what went wrong with the original mission. You get your answer, but unfortunately both time travel and group projects are a very messy business, so combining the two isn’t exactly a recipe for success. Although using time travel to put an end to Hitler and his rise to power is a fairly well-trodden trope at this point, hopefully this list has proven that there are still plenty of creative ways to tell this kind of story. I’d love to hear if you have any particularly intriguing, thoughtful, and/or original stories that riff on this theme, regardless of format![end-mark] The post Five Time Travel Stories About Taking Out Hitler appeared first on Reactor.

He-Man Has the Power and He’s Not Afraid to Use It in New Masters of the Universe Trailer
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He-Man Has the Power and He’s Not Afraid to Use It in New Masters of the Universe Trailer

News Masters of the Universe He-Man Has the Power and He’s Not Afraid to Use It in New Masters of the Universe Trailer He gets knocked down, but he gets up again By Molly Templeton | Published on March 31, 2026 Image: Amazon MGM Studios Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Amazon MGM Studios The new Masters of the Universe film remains mystifying on several levels. Why cast Jared Leto in your movie if he’s going to be all CGI and his voice is unrecognizable? (Why cast Jared Leto at all, full stop?) Why does that one ship look like it escaped from a Transformers film? Why does Camilla Mendes, so brazen on Riverdale, constantly just fade into the background as Teela? Why does this trailer seem at least as interested in Man-at-Arms as it is in He-Man? I guess the answer to that last one is “Because he’s played by Idris Elba,” who is almost inarguably the most famous person visible in said trailer. (As previously noted, Jared Leto is not actually visible.) Masters of the Universe is clearly trying to coast on its brand recognition. The Sheep Detectives star Nicholas Galitzine plays poor lost Prince Adam, who has been sent to the mundane world for an unspecified period of time. He’s had it up to here with everyone thinking he’s crazy, so he goes to get his special sword and go home to Eternia, where things are not going at all well. Galitzine is clearly game to play a ripped guy in very small clothing, and I applaud his commitment to the bit. If nothing else, you can say that yes, he looks like He-Man, action-figure-turned-cartoon. Everyone looks just fine; the movie just appears to be a muddle of CGI and very funny outfits for accuracy. The film also stars Alison Brie as Evil-Lyn, Sam C. Wilson as Trap Jaw, Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson as Goat Man, Kojo Attah as Tri-Klops, Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson as Fisto, and Morena Baccarin as the Sorceress. It is directed by Travis Knight, son of Nike founder Phil Knight, and five men are credited with the screenplay and/or story: Chris Butler, Adam Nee, Dave Callaham, Alex Litvak, and Michael Finch. Does it have THE POWAH? You can find out when Masters of the Universe arrives in theaters June 5th.[end-mark] The post He-Man Has the Power and He’s Not Afraid to Use It in New <i>Masters of the Universe</i> Trailer appeared first on Reactor.

Reading The Wheel of Time: Verin and Tuon Deal with Ta’veren Nonsense inThe Gathering Storm (Part 21)
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Reading The Wheel of Time: Verin and Tuon Deal with Ta’veren Nonsense inThe Gathering Storm (Part 21)

Books The Wheel of Time Reading The Wheel of Time: Verin and Tuon Deal with Ta’veren Nonsense inThe Gathering Storm (Part 21) Mat is very excited to share his character sheets with his friends. By Sylas K Barrett | Published on March 31, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share Welcome once and again to Reading The Wheel of Time, in which I spend a lot of time wondering how, exactly, ta’veren powers work. Every time they come up I theorize, and now I have the added questions of whether what Sanderson is doing with them matches exactly with what Jordan intended. I don’t have definitive answers to any of my questions, but boy, is it interesting to theorize. It’s also interesting to theorize what Verin is really up to, and how Tuon is going to adapt to the world as she learns more about it, and as she takes on the mantle—and responsibilities—of the Seanchan Empress. (May she live a reasonably long time and learn that slavery is bad.) And now, on to the recap. In his tent, Mat has gathered Talmanes, Thom, Noal, Juilin and Mandevwin to go over his plan for the encounter with the strange woman who has been passing out pictures of him. Not only has he figured out where to station both cavalry and crossbowmen to cover any need for reinforcements or coverage for retreat, he has also created characters with elaborate backstories for some of them, including making Mandevwin Thom’s apprentice and Talmanes a passing Warder. Mandevwin is confused by his backstory while Talmanes is amused, and not even bothering to hide it. Mat notes that he was wrong to ever consider Talmanes to be lacking in a sense of humor. “I’m not going to be surprised again, Thom,” Mat said. “Burn me, but I’m not going to let it happen. I’m tired of walking into traps unprepared. I plan to take command of my own destiny, stop running from problem to problem. It’s time to be in charge.”“And you do that with…” Julin said.“Elaborate aliases with backstories,” Mat said, handing Thom and Noal their sheets. “Bloody right I do.” Mat explains that he may have gone a little overboard; the woman can produce a perfect picture of him and he is determined to find out what is going on before he’s descended upon by Darkfriends from every side. He goes out to inspect the camp, making his way to Aludra’s tents where he is stopped by Bayle Domon until Aludra gives permission for Mat to enter. Mat is irked at having to do this in his own camp, but he doesn’t want to argue with or disrespect Aludra. She is clearly hurt that he went and married Tuon. Mat finds Aludra working on nightflowers; Egeanin, who is still insisting on being called Leilwin, is helping her. Aludra has laid out her plans for the dragons, including figures for how much material would be needed and estimations about the cost. Mat is flabbergasted by the numbers. “Let us assume the Dragon has control of Caemlyn, Cairhien, Illian and Tear. If he were to provide me with access to each and every mine and metal store of copper and tin in those four cities, I suppose it would be sufficient.” Aludra also wants every bellfounder available to work on the dragons and reminds Mat that both ironworkers and materials will soon be turned to the manufacture of weapons anyway. Mat hopes Rand has the resources and money to do all this, as he himself does not. When he complains, Aludra tells him that rudeness is not like him, although pessimism is a fond friend. “That’s uncalled for,” Mat grumbled, glancing back down at the drawings. “I barely know her. Mere acquaintances, at best. You’ve got my oath on it.” Mat insists on taking the plans for the dragons to his own tent to keep them safe, and Aludra agrees. She asks when the Dragons will be needed; Mat doesn’t know the answer, but he is confident it will be soon. Aludra assures him that the dragons will each be worth a hundred swords in battle. As Mat is leaving, Olver comes running up with a message from Talmanes that someone has come to the camp to see Mat, and that she has pictures of Mat as well as “a distinctive face.” Mat hurries to the front of the camp to find Verin waiting for him. Mat realizes that it is Verin who has been distributing pictures of him and offering gold for news of his whereabouts. She tells Mat that she learned of his location from the merchant Mat paid to draw the map of Trustair, and that she thought she should come find Mat before he charged into the town with soldiers. Verin explains that she has been forced to wait for him because of his ta’veren powers. Mat also learns that Verin knows Traveling, and the opportunity to be in Caemlyn that day offers staggering possibilities. But first, Verin wants to talk. As Rand arrives outside of Falme via gateway, he’s surprised by all the memories that the sights and sounds of the seaside city bring back to him. He thinks of how he has changed, and how his transformation in Falme was as profound as the one he experienced in the Aiel Waste. At Falme, the shepherd boy had burned, his ashes scattered and blown away by those ocean winds. From those ashes, the Dragon Reborn had risen. Nynaeve rides up beside him as Rand and his procession make their way towards Falme. Rand reflects on how she has started adapting the habits and dress of places she visits to her own personal sense of what is proper. Once, he would have found this amusing. Nynaeve is also reminded of the last time they were in Falme, and the two discuss the memories. Rand surprises himself by telling Nynaeve about killing Turak, something he has never talked about with anyone. Nynaeve remarks that this means that Rand does have a right to carry a heron-marked blade after all, but Rand disagrees with the statement that he is a blademaster, since there was no one to witness the fight. She suggests this does not matter, but he points out that the entire point of the heron-mark is to be seen. Rand has only brought a handful of channelers with him; Nynaeve, three Wise Ones, Corele, Narishma, and Flinn, hoping the token guard will convince the Daughter of the Nine Moons of his sincere desire for peace. But he knows something could go wrong, so he seizes saidin through the access key, filling himself with enough of the One Power to stand against a hundred damane, perhaps two hundred. Holding this much of saidin will also make him difficult to shield. Nynaeve notices the sickness that he always experiences when he touches saidin, as well as the glow from the sphere on the access key. Rand assures her that he is “only holding a little extra, as a precaution.” When he sees the Daughter of the Nine Moons, he is surprised by how small and young she is. He dismounts and steps forward, to the seat that has been set for him, opposite hers. Tuon is initially surprised at the Dragon Reborn’s youth, but reminds herself that conquering heroes are often young, as Artur Hawkwing was himself when he began uniting the lands. She studies him carefully, deducing his character by the way he dresses and carries himself. She is unsettled by the presence of a marath’damane and two male channelers accompanying the Dragon. She knows she is exposed, despite her Deathwatch guards, Selucia, and the damane at her command. There is some consternation among Tuon’s followers when al’Thor states that they will make peace today, almost as if giving her an order. The Dragon also displays a keen eye when he recognizes Selucia as Tuon’s bodyguard. He invokes the prophecies to point out the danger of their division, of the Seanchan coming to disrupt his control over the lands when the Last Battle is looming. Tuon, reflecting to herself that the people of these lands have forgotten much of the prophecies, tells him that the Return came, following the omens, expecting to find a united land that praised them and accepted their leadership into the Last Battle. She tells him that it gives them no pleasure to fight, just as it gives a parent no pleasure to discipline an unruly child. “A metaphor,” he said. “An apt one, perhaps. Yes, the land did lack unity. But I have forged it together. The solder is weak, perhaps, but it will hold long enough. If not for me, then your war of unification would be commendable. As it is, you are a distraction. We must have peace. Our alliance need last only until my life ends.” He met her eyes. “I assure you that will not be overly long.” Reflecting that al’Thor could kill her if he wanted to, Tuon counters that, if the Last Battle is so close, perhaps he should unite his lands behind the Seanchan banner and have his people take the oath. He cuts her off before she can add that all marath’damane should be leashed. She tries to convince him that the a’dam is the only way to deal with channelers, but he will not let it happen, and tells her point blank that he will not concede the point. Realizing she has lost control over the conversation, she brings up Mat, surprising both al’Thor and the marath’damane with him. When she remarks that she found him to be an indolent scoundrel, both of them defend Mat intensely, surprising Tuon with the level of their loyalty. Finally, al’Thor tells her that neither their differences nor what they have in common matters, and that only his need for her matters. He tells her that she must sign a treaty with him, that this is not a request but his will; Tuon suddenly finds herself longing to obey and please him. Many reasons that the treaty is a good idea present themselves to her, and when she tries to remember why the treaty is a bad idea, those thoughts slip away. She doesn’t understand what is happening to her, why her chest feels constricted, or why she sees a dark halo around him. Agreement is on her tongue, but somehow she manages to whisper a no. Her confidence grows as she repeats the denial, telling him that he will bow before her, not the other way around. She could not ally with this creature. That seething hatred, it terrified her, and terror was an emotion with which she was unfamiliar. This man could not be allowed freedom to do as he wished. He had to be contained. The Dragon is silent a moment, and then, clearly infuriated, stalks away, followed by his retinue. Tuon is left speechless for a long, long time, but when she eventually recovers herself she turns to her own followers and utters the words “I am the Empress.” Though there will be a formal coronation and celebrations to follow, this is all Tuon needs to do to officially be the Empress, and everyone falls prostrate before her. Reflecting that the world needs her, needs an Empress, Tuon begins to give orders for an attack on the White Tower. They need to strike at the Dragon Reborn quickly, and stop him from gaining any more power. Not me wondering if Matrim Cauthon is a former theater kid. I was actively smiling as I read about Mat’s extensive plans that include pages of backstory for each of his “characters.” The section was really well-written, with the slow reveal that Mat’s response to Mandevwin’s questions wasn’t an off-the-cuff attempt to soothe the captain’s objections, but rather an unhinged backstory he had already come up with, and written down. It was very funny, and I found myself actively smiling as I read it—especially when he tells Mandevwin “I spent half the night working on your story. It’s the best out of the lot.” I’d love to get a POV section for Talmanes, since the man seems constantly amused by Mat. I enjoyed Mat’s observation that Talmanes isn’t as serious as Mat first took him to be, but in fact just keeps his mirth inside. As a side character, Talmanes is really growing on me, and I can see how he’s fit in with the Band so well, despite being nobility when most everyone else isn’t. An aside: Mat was so obviously the group’s Pippin that I often forget not to picture him the same way I picture Pippin when I read The Lord of the Rings. Basically I just picture them exactly the same, except Mat wears shoes and different clothes. I always imagine him as really short, too, although he isn’t supposed to be. It’s funny how the brain makes associations and those associations shape how we perceive people. But then, that is true of Mat no matter who he is dealing with. Everyone holds onto a very specific image where he is concerned, usually based a lot on first impressions. Perhaps it is just because Mat has a very strong personality or maybe it’s because he tries to hide his braver, more selfless side—even from himself. One of the fascinating things about Mat is how his character demonstrates what true courage looks like. There is no shame in fear—if you’re not afraid of the Dark, there’s something wrong with you—and self preservation is natural. The difficulty Mat runs into isn’t that he’s afraid; it’s that he wants to define himself a certain way, and that definition doesn’t match up with the reality of who he is, but it does make him come off as an irresponsible cad to people before they can see the truth through his actions. He’s sort of in the opposite position from Rand, in a way. In chapter 35, Rand remembers the man he was when he came to Falme the first time, as though that was a different person entirely;he thinks of Rand the shepherd as being burned into ash, and the Dragon Reborn as someone who took his place. But this isn’t the perspective Rand had back when he first declared himself as the Dragon Reborn. He didn’t blink and move from the state he was then into the state he exists in now, and the Rand of that moment or the weeks that followed probably would have a different perspective on the experience. Rand has reached a point where everything feels inevitable to him, especially his own literal and figurative demise, and it’s coloring his view of the past. The battle at Falme was a traumatic one for Rand, especially since it was there that he received his first un-healing wound, but it was also a triumph. They beat back the Seanchan, Egwene was saved, and Rand proved his strength and power, to himself as much as to the world. He could take this moment to be reminded of what he can do, of how he was able to trust Nynaeve to take care of Egwene, how friends like Loial helped him succeed and a Darkfriend turned back to the light in his presence. Instead, he thinks only of destruction, and the fact that he doesn’t believe any remnant of the man he used to be still exists within him. Rand sees only his capacity for violence and destruction, even though his purpose and his intention is to save the world from Darkness. Mat focuses on his desire for diversion and irresponsibility despite how he has proven himself again and again as a reliable friend, soldier, and leader. Both make these choices out of fear, I think: fear of failure, fear of death, fear of the opinions of others. Mat’s desire to avoid any more surprises is a familiar one to me, as I imagine it is to many readers. He tells Tom that he’s tired of being surprised, and that he plans to take charge of his own destiny, rather than running from problem to problem; then he is promptly shown how impossible that goal is to achieve, as the woman who is looking for him turns out to be an ally (ostensibly) and all his preparations are interrupted before he even has a chance to set out for Trustair. There is no plan Mat could possibly have made that would have anticipated what happened in Hinderstap. The next time he encounters an effect of the Dark One or some Forsaken trap, it will also be something he could not have anticipated and will have to adapt to on the fly. But anxiety is something that is most quickly soothed by giving in to it. I always think of it like a mosquito bite—the temptation is always to scratch and get the immediate relief, and it can be hard to remember, in the moment of discomfort, that in the long run the bite will heal much more quickly if left alone. Mat’s night spent planning what is basically an assault on Hinderstap was scratching that itch, trying to soothe the fear he experienced in Hinderstap and the worry that something like that will happen again. This metaphor is getting away from me a little, but I think you all know what I’m getting at. What is most interesting to me about Mat’s attempts to prepare for what cannot be anticipated, and to have a plan for every possible outcome, is that Mat is very adept at thinking on his feet and getting out of impossible situations with a combination of luck, skill, and having surrounded himself with talented friends and allies. He has survived bizarre and impossible situations by adapting in the moment, not by planning ahead. And yet he returns again and again to the idea that avoidance is the best way to handle potential problems. The silliness of Mat’s pages of backstory for each of his characters gives the scene a lighthearted and comedic air, which is a nice addition at this point in the book, but it also struck me as a great way of illustrating the concept that trying to plan for every contingency is ultimately a silly thing to do, even though it may feel good in the moment. Mat would have been better served getting a good night’s rest than he was by spending all that time on plans that he now has no use for and backstories that make no sense. Even more than that, it was his need to plan ahead and anticipate everything that got him into trouble—or would have, if the person looking for him had turned out to be a foe, instead of an ally. It was the very merchant Mat paid to draw the map who told Verin where to find him.  I do, however, appreciate Mat’s desire for “good drama.” I am interested to see what comes of Verin’s claim that she was caught up in Mat’s ta’veren web. I have always taken everything Verin says with a grain of salt, ever since she lied to Rand back in The Great Hunt by claiming Moiraine sent her to find him. We knew this wasn’t true, and it’s hard (though not impossible) to imagine how Verin could have made that into an obfuscation rather than an outright lie. Perhaps by deliberately misinterpreting something Moiraine said to her, twisting words and intent in her mind until she convinced herself that was what Moiraine meant? Verin appears to want to protect Rand. Not only did she use her version of Compulsion to get all the captive Aes Sedai to swear loyalty to him, but she also considered poisoning Cadsuane until she decided that Cadsuane was also trying to help and protect Rand. We also know that the Dark has been given orders not to injure or kill Rand. This doesn’t really go very far in explaining the fact that Verin has been doing more than just making sure nobody near him takes a shot. Next week we’ll read her explanation of what she is doing there and how she was caught by Mat’s ta’veren pull, but for now, I will just say how easy it would be to lie about something like that, if you were a person able to lie. “Oh no, I definitely have a reason to be out here in the middle of nowhere distributing pictures of you and your friend. It’s definitely not because I’m a Darkfriend and Moridin ordered your death. It’s, uh… it’s because the Pattern made me do it!” If Mat did somehow pull her to him with his ta’veren need, that would also be a factor of his ta’veren powers we haven’t yet seen, just like his apparent ability to consciously control the direction in which his luck works. It’s very in line, however, with my general understanding of how ta’veren work: by pulling threads of the Pattern (in other words, the lives of human beings) in certain directions. We’ve seen Rand’s ta’veren power pull people to him many times, including the consistent pull to reach him that both Mat and Perrin are currently experiencing. So Verin’s explanation is perfectly plausible, but I just also think that would make it a really convenient lie. Speaking of ta’veren pulls and the question of how consciously one can direct such a power, I was fascinated to see Tuon resist Rand during their meeting. Whatever else one might think of the woman, this was an incredible feat of determination. While we have seen people say no to Rand before, they generally tend to act almost as though without thought when his ta’veren nature takes hold of someone. When it happened to the Sea Folk while he was bargaining with them, they seemed unaware of any influence until after they had already spoken, and then were perplexed by their own decisions. More than one person has made a decision under Rand’s influence and then had their own reactions explained to them afterwards by a nearby Aes Sedai, or occasionally by Rand himself. But we’ve never been in someone’s POV and watch them clock that pull and actively resist it. Tuon doesn’t even know what’s happening to her in that moment. She has only recently heard of the concept of ta’veren, and dismissed it at once as superstition, but she is aware of something, of her sudden desire to please Rand, and to think of all the reasons doing what he wants would benefit her. She actively attempts to think of objections to those reasons, to think of why it would be a bad idea to agree to his proposal, and even when she can’t find those objections and can’t make her mind hold onto them, she still resists him. There are several possible explanations for Tuon’s ability to resist Rand. The first is that her upbringing has given her a particularly strong mental fortitude, one that even a twisting of the Pattern isn’t fully able to overcome. Rand’s nature only twists chance, it doesn’t guarantee outcomes, and it does seem likely that the chance of Tuon breaking away from her duty to subdue the lands and become the leader of everything, including the Dragon Reborn, are slim. It’s also possible that Tuon herself is ta’veren. I don’t believe that anyone capable of seeing that trait has ever been in her presence, and the possibility has been raised before, though I forget now which character it was who said it. This idea is particularly intriguing because it lends some weight to her belief that she is meant to lead in the Last Battle. We, the readers, know that it has to be Rand, but Tuon is clearly an important player, and her being ta’veren would add to that importance, both literally and symbolically. If Tuon’s resistance to Rand’s influence was due either to mental fortitude or to some ta’veren nature of her own, this has some interesting implications on what her life with Mat will be like. Now, another possible explanation for Tuon’s resistance is that there was no chance, not even the slimmest of possibilities, that she would agree to his terms. This seems unlikely, given how chance and probability works, but I find myself unable to entirely dismiss the notion. After all, Tuon is a creature of mental strength and dedication to her duty, and she fully believes that it is not only her right but also her obligation to be the leader of every land and to control the Dragon Reborn during the Last Battle. This is what the Seanchan prophecies say, after all, and Tuon fully believes in prophecy and omens. She has also been raised since birth to believe in her duty to the Seanchan and the world. Perhaps there is no version of events that would see her turning aside from that dedication, even slightly. Of course, there is a possibility that Rand’s power didn’t work as he intended because it’s broken. We have seen evidence that he no longer causes a good for every ill, that the balance of the effects he creates seems to be no longer, well, balanced. If this is so, the effects of his touching the “True Source” may be tainting his ta’veren abilities in other ways, too. After Tuon fails to get her mind to hold on to all the reasons not to agree to Rand’s proposal, even as she finds agreement on the tip of her tongue, she observes the darkness around Rand. The narrative doesn’t explicitly say that the darkness is the reason she finds the strength to say no, but the association does rather imply it. “No,” she repeated, confidence growing. “You will bow before me, Rand al’Thor. It will not happen the other way around.” Such darkness! How could one man contain it? He seemed to throw a shadow the size of a mountain. I could almost believe, based on how these passages play out, that it was the dark halo around Rand that pushed Tuon to be able to resist his influence. And after all, the effect of the Dark One—his touch, his taint, his Power—is directly counter to the Pattern, so much so that it actively tears and dissolves the threads. So it would make sense if this part of Rand’s abilities has been altered, just like his affect on chance seems to be. Which is a chilling thought. It was interesting to see Rand attempting to target his ta’veren ability to sway people. He brings in the word “need” several times, which reminded me of one of Moiraine’s earliest lesson to him. Back in the first book, when they realized the Dark One’s plan and needed to find the Eye of the World and thwart him, Moiraine spoke of how she believed that every one of them was brought to that moment, and that the information was brought to that moment, on purpose by the Pattern. She also believed that she would be able to find the Eye even though she has already been there, because the Eye of the World responds to someone’s need. Rand is aware that he twists the Pattern around him, and that the results work in his favor when his ta’veren ability works on others; we saw this during the negotiations with Harine and the Sea Folk, as a particularly clear example. He also believes that the Aes Sedai captured at Dumai’s Wells were drawn to swear to him because of his ta’veren pull. It seems that he is very aware that his needs, and possibly his desires, are driving this affect, and is trying to concentrate that onto Tuon, as though he’s reminding the Pattern what is needed. The idea that Rand can point and shoot his ta’veren influence isn’t as much a revelation as the idea that Mat can, though it is a bit of a step from how we’ve seen this play out before. Just because it was clear that Rand wanted the full weight of that ability to come to bear against Tuon doesn’t mean he was able to manipulate the ability; he might have just been focusing really hard in the hope that it would tip the balance. I liked how Rand looked at Tuon and marveled at how young and small she looked, and then a passage later Tuon was briefly surprised by how young Rand was. Both also consider, at one point or another, how little the protection they had with them would help if the other side attacked—Rand thought about how only a quick escape via Gateway or the extra power from the Choedan Kal would give him a chance to withstand the might of so many damane, while Tuon thinks about her guards and the distance between herself and Rand and how none of it makes any difference if he decides to harm her. The parallels also exist in that they both have been told that it is their job to unite the world and to lead everyone into the Last Battle. It seems obvious that the Seanchan prophecies have been altered or misunderstood in some way (Tuon herself thinks in one passage that the prophecies can sometimes be difficult to decipher). Of course the Dragon could kneel before the Empress, as the Seanchan prophecies say he will, even if ultimately he is not placed under her control or command. It could be a gesture of respect or difference, not of fealty or submission. However, from where Tuon is sitting, she has been raised on the idea that the Seanchan Empress must lead the world in the Last Battle; she sees this as her ultimate duty. She isn’t like Elaida, who read the prophecies that said the Dragon would do all these things and still thought she should, and could, keep him imprisoned and use him like a weapon (like a damane) to be wielded by the Amyrlin during Tarmon Gai’don. Tuon has been told this is her duty; she believes that the prophecies say that this is her duty, and that the fate of the world rests on her shoulders. In this, she and Rand are the same, and it’s no wonder that they couldn’t reach an agreement. Each of them sees their own capitulation as something that would doom the world. Tuon’s next step is to attack the White Tower, which won’t cow or weaken Rand in the way she wants it to but will anger him. I can’t help thinking that this attack will be devastating, not only to the Aes Sedai but to the world. Even if the Seanchan are repelled, all it takes is for them to return back to their territory with one Aes Sedai who knows how to Travel, and the situation of the war will be drastically altered. As altered as it will be by the production of Aludra’s dragons, maybe. What I find much more interesting is the question of how, eventually, Tuon can be brought to change her perspective, to understand that some things—some beliefs, some traditions, some rules—that are intrinsic to the Seanchan way of life will have to change. The Empress can’t stand higher than the Dragon Reborn, whatever the cultural rules say. But how can anyone convince her of this? And who will it be? Rand? Or Mat? Or someone else? Do they have any omens for “You’re on the wrong path, you actually have to drastically alter the way you think about the structure of your society and the Imperial family?” Anyway, we’ll cover the next two chapters next week, in which we get more information from Verin, and more information from Tuon, who is due for a name change as she takes on her new position as Empress. Plus we finally get a chapter from Min’s perspective, which I have been desperate for since the whole debacle with Semirhage and the collar. Rand thinks Min can’t see him the same way, can’t love him the same way, now that he has nearly killed her, but I don’t think that’s true at all. If Min is subdued and hesitant with him, it has more to do with how he is behaving after that encounter than anything else. But we’ll have to wait for her own words to understand more. Rand could stand to do the same.[end-mark] The post Reading The Wheel of Time: Verin and Tuon Deal with Ta’veren Nonsense in<i>The Gathering Storm</i> (Part 21) appeared first on Reactor.