Reimagining the Ending of the Wheel of Time

I did it! I figured out the ending of the Wheel of Time, or at least an ending, one that’s more to my satisfaction than the published version. Most readers love the last three books written by a substitute author, but not me. I found them too inconsistent, too many bizarre changes to the characters, too much contradiction to what Jordan had written, too much discontinuity, and too much emphasis on insignificant characters and not enough on important characters. Besides, the whole thing was just so ho hum. The last battle is imminent, but everyone acts as if it will be tomorrow or next month or even next year. They also think it’s their choice when to begin fighting the Dark One, as if the Dark One is just sitting around waiting for them to decide to act.

What truly irritated me was how the substitute author further developed the main hero. This hero went on top of a mountain, ready to kill himself because he thought life and his mission were futile, just as the person he used to be did 3,000 years previously, but instead he had a bit of a revelation — that people were reborn and kept being reborn because it gave them a second chance at love. And because of this rather simplistic realization, the hero (Rand) was suddenly cured of the darkness that the Dark One had been coloring him with, was suddenly cured of his growing madness and became melded with that 3,000 year-old-version of himself that had presented as a voice in his head, and suddenly became what fans of the books call “Jesus Rand.”

Although some Christ-like features can be read into the hero’s character, he was never supposed to be based on the Christian savior, but rather more of a hero like King Arthur (as well as the Fisher King from the King Arthur legends and savior characters from dozens of other myths and legends). But the substitute author seemed to have missed that point completely and overrode the cosmology inherent in the books with his own religious beliefs. Appallingly, when the two personalities of the hero melded, he became a caricature of what a messiah might be. He was so over-the-top perfect that it was creepy, not inspiring. His ancient persona had never been that perfect — in fact, it was reported that he’d been sanctimonious and proud. And the hero in his present persona had become angry, determined, hard, ruthless. So how did those two personalities become so utterly pious when integrated?

Even worse, instead of doing what he was supposed to be doing, preparing himself for the last battle with the dark forces, he wandered the world feeding the hungry, helping the poor, healing the sick (though he himself didn’t heal the sick, he had someone else do it), and rescuing soldiers who had fought themselves into a corner. Under other circumstances it would have been admirable but none of what he did would matter if the world was soon annihilated by dark powers that only he could fight but wasn’t. Still it fit — sort of. Several of the characters feared the hard person he’d become, thinking he should be strong instead of hard, able to laugh and cry as he prepared for the last battle, and so they approved the change.

Worst of all, despite acting so pious, he was still consumed with hubris — not at all a messianic trait — believing he was better than the Creator since the Creator had merely sealed the Dark One away, not destroyed it as the hero intended to do. And oh, yeah. Shortly before going into the battle to save the entire universe, he demolished one of the most powerful magic tools ever made because it was “too powerful to use.” Whatever that means. (Actually, what it means is, as the substitute himself admitted, that he couldn’t figure out how to use it and so got rid of it.)

One part that was supposedly written by Jordan that makes no sense at all, especially coming from someone who’d been a soldier himself, was that even though the hero accepted his death and willingly made the sacrifice, he supposedly left instructions for one of his followers to leave gold and supplies in a tent for him to find when it was all over (though he could have done it himself). But no. Just no. If you’re fighting the last battle, a battle for the entirety of existence, you can’t leave that bit of distraction, that sense that you’re not giving it your all, that perhaps you’re not committed to fighting to the death. If he survives, fine — then get someone to help.

All that is to set the stage for what I suddenly realized today would make a great ending and what actually should have happened besides adding needed conflict.

Forget that whole scene of transformation. Have him go to the last battle as he was, darkness, anger, hardness, madness, and all. In which case, he’d have all sorts of people trying to stop him. His allies who thought that if he fought the Dark One when he was so dark himself, would definitely try to stop him because if he won in that state of mind, it would leave the world worse off than it was. The women power wielders would definitely be against him even more than they already were because they could not control him, and because they believed he’d unloose the Dark One on the world before he could seal him up again and so lose the world to darkness. The misplaced army, the one the dark minions sent after him, would be mobilized against him by the forces of the dark.

Despite that, the hero manages to assemble the forces of light to tell them his terms for fighting the last battle. (To everyone’s horror. So many of them lavished hate on him through eleven books, yet they expected him to willingly sacrifice himself for them!!) After they all sign the peace accords he wanted, the world suddenly grows darker, as if the eternal night is coming, and the forces of the dark descend on them. Although the hero wants to stay and help fight, he knows his confrontation with the dark lies elsewhere. And so he reluctantly heads to the Dark One’s lair. Although he knows it’s his duty, he isn’t sure that he wants to save humanity since they had been set on destroying him.

There is a power vs. power struggle between the hero and the Dark One’s avatar that seems pretty even, but mostly the battle is a philosophical one between Rand and the Dark One rather than actual combat. (As Jordan intended.) So, there he is, almost as dark as the Dark One himself, determined to do his duty, though he’s not sure why. And then comes the battle — dueling scenarios of what the world would be like if the Dark One won and what it would be like if the Dark One was not just sealed away again as the Creator had originally done but instead was utterly destroyed.

After a few of these scenarios (perhaps one that made the hero cry and another that made him laugh) the hero comes to an understanding and acceptance of himself and his fate as the savior of the world. He also realizes the truth — that the Dark One is not a person but a cosmic force. A force of dark to balance the force of light to create the pattern of life that is woven by the wheel of time. Darkness without light is annihilation. But light without darkness is also annihilation. (Think of a blank piece of white paper. It doesn’t signify much of anything, but print black on white, and look what we have!)

So instead of on the mountain, here is where he has his miraculous revelation, the one that brings light to the world the Dark One had all but destroyed. In the vast light that ensues, those physically fighting the dark minions and losing, find the courage and hope and resolve for a final push. So while the hero is winning his own battle, sealing off the Dark One rather than killing it, the humans and the forces of light are also winning their bloody world-wide battle.

I love the irony that the dark force that tried to destroy him would be the very thing that facilitates his transformation, gives him back to himself, and makes him strong enough to do what he needs to do to overcome the Dark One. Gives me shivers! Something the published ending never did, that’s for sure. And it makes sense to me, which is even more important.

Of course, other things happen before, during, and even directly after the last battle as loose ends get tied up and other major characters have their own climactic endings. I’d definitely get rid of the repeated character arc for one of the other two heroes, have them act as the responsible people they’d already become, and make sure all three of the heroes meet up again, something the substitute didn’t do but seems to be a necessary part of bringing things full circle. I’d especially not ignore those characters that were most supportive of the heroes during their travails as the substitute did. But bits such as this are easy enough for me to fit into my interpretation of the ending.

I’ve spent weeks — months! — thinking about this, putting the puzzle together, but now what do I do with all that mental time? I’ve been searching for another all-encompassing project, but so far, haven’t found a series that is even vaguely interesting. I suppose I’ll go back to reading whatever comes to hand, but that idea seems a bit flat.

Oh, I know! I’ll start rereading the Wheel of Time! I must admit, it is a fascinating literary experience to go back and read the first book again after experiencing the huge character arc of the eleven Robert Jordan novels and seeing how far those simple country boys had ended up from their humble beginnings. And then, I’d have to read the second book, and perhaps the third . . .

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.