Author name: Mike M.

Lee: Wow. That was… a lot.

One of the recurring themes of our recaps across seasons has been, “Well, I guess we’re going to have to give up on seeing $SEMI_MAJOR_BOOK_SETTING_OR_EVENT on screen because of budget or time or narrative reasons,” and we’ve had to let go of a lot of stuff. But this episode kicks off with a flashback showing Elaida walking out of a certain twisted redstone doorframe, looking smug and fingering a bracelet. Sharp-eyed viewers might have spotted this doorway in the background of the season premiere, when the Black Ajah loots the Tower’s ter’angreal storeroom, and now in true Chekov’s Gun fashion, the doorway comes ’round again—and not just this one, because like many things in the Wheel of Time, the doorways come in a binary set.

We surely owe show-watchers a very quick recap of the Finn—and I believe we glossed over a scene in an earlier episode where the boys are actually playing the snakes-and-foxes game that these horrifying fae-folk are based on—but before we do that, let’s take a breath and look at what else we’ve got in the episode. Closure! (Well, some.) Balefire! Blocks breaking! Rand pulling a Paul Atreides and making it rain on Dune! I mean, uh, in the Three-Fold Land! And many other things!

Andrew: I found this episode less than satisfying after last week’s specifically because of that grab-bag approach. There is some exciting, significant, season finale-style stuff happening here, but it’s also one of those piece-moving episodes with scene after scene of setup, setup, setup without a ton of room for payoff. Setup for a fourth season that, as of this writing, we still don’t know whether we’re getting!

So a number of things just feel rushed, most significantly Rand’s hard turn on Lanfear after a cursory attempt to coax her back to the side of the Light, and the existence of balefire as a concept. I actually love how the show visualizes it—it’s essentially a giant death laser that melts you out of the Pattern so thoroughly that it doesn’t just kill you, it also erases the last few seconds of your existence, represented here as a little shadow of a person that rewinds a bit before dissipating. The books use balefire extensively as a get-out-of-jail-free card for certain major character deaths, so it really feels like something that needs a little more preamble than it gets here.

Andrew: It’s hard to know where to start with the rest of it! There are some recreations of book events that happen roughly where they’re “supposed” to in the story. There are recreations of book events that have been pulled way forward to save some time. There are things that emphatically don’t happen in the books, also done at least partly in the interests of time. And there’s at least one thing that felt designed specifically to fake out book-readers.

What to dig into first?

Andrew: Yup! We still have one Forsaken missing, by my count—there are eight in total in the show’s world, and we’ve seen five and had two more referenced by name. So the big open question is whether the eighth is the Forsaken who does end up in the Rand-teacher role in the books. I feel like the show wouldn’t have spent so much time setting up “Rand needs a teacher” without then bothering to follow up on it in some way, but this episode wants to tease people who are asking that question rather than answering it. Fair enough!

Sammael’s early death (pulled forward from book seven) has its own story reverberations. In the books he’s one of a few Forsaken who set themselves up as heads of state, and Rand has to run around individually defeating them and bringing all of these separate kingdoms together in time for the Last Battle (this is less exciting than it sounds, because it takes forever and requires endless patience for navigating the politics of each region).

It seems, increasingly, that we may just be skipping over a bunch of that stuff. That was already implied by the downplaying of Cairhienin politicking that we got on screen in season two, and I tend to see “putting all of Sammael’s blood on the outside” as another possible nod in that direction. As ever with this show, “knowing how it goes in the books” only gives us a limited amount of insight into what the show is going to do.

Lee: I’m liking it. I consider Rand’s world-unifying to be one of the core components of The Slog that we discussed last week, and I think anything that greases the skids on that entire plotline is unequivocally a good thing—that’s also about where I start skipping entire chapters if the word “Elayne” appears in them (trust me on this, show-watchers who might become book-readers: Elayne spends thousands of pages playing the most boring version of the Game of Thrones imaginable, and we suffer through every single interminable import/export discussion with her).

Speaking of Game of Thrones—at least in the sense of killing off characters and potentially shortening The Slog—Siuan’s dead! And probably not in a “can be fixed” kind of way, since we very clearly see her head separated from her body, and Moiraine gasps out confirmation. This one kind of shook me, since Siuan has a big major role to play in a certain big major thing that happens several books hence—but the more I think about it, the more this feels like the same kind of narrative belt-tightening that brought us Loial’s death last episode. Because up until that certain big major thing happens, Siuan spends a lot of her post-Amyrlin time as a scullery maid and underpants-washer. I think we can transplant that certain big major thing onto one of a half-dozen other characters and lose nothing. At least…I think. What about you?

Andrew: Yeah, I mean, not nothing, exactly. Every book character we have lost on the show has done stuff that I liked in the books that is now probably not going to happen. Complaining about The Slog aside, people like these books in part because they successfully build a super-dense world inhabited by a million named characters who all have Moments. Post-Amyrlin Siuan’s journey is about humility, finding happiness, and showing that the literal One Power is not the only kind of power there is to wield; it’s not always thrilling, but I won’t say it’s of zero narrative value.

And even when discussing The Slog, part of the reason it was so infuriating is because you and I were reading these as they were coming out. If you wait three years for a book, and then it comes out and nothing happens: that’s maddening! It is also not a problem that exists for modern readers or re-readers, now that the books have been done and dusted for over a decade. My assessment of Knife of Dreams, the series’ 11th book and the last one written entirely by Jordan, went way up on my last re-read because I was able to experience it without also having to experience the bookless years before and after. (It also made me newly sad that Jordan wasn’t able to conclude the story himself, as someone who finds the Sanderson-assisted books a bit clunky and utilitarian.)

All of that being said! I agree that from this point forward in the story, Siuan is not a load-bearing character in the way that Rand or Egwene or the others are. You do also get the sense that the show wants to surprise book-readers with something big every now and again. This particular death achieves that and also cuts down on what the show has left to adapt. I get why they did it! But I also sympathize with people who will miss her.

Lee: Let’s pivot, because I can’t wait to discuss Mat’s journey into Finn-land—one of the most important things that happens to his character in the books. I was pretty convinced that we simply weren’t going to get any of this in the show—that the Aelfinn and Eelfinn would be too outside what Amazon is willing to pay for. And yet, there are our two twisted redstone doorways. They’re repositioned somewhat from their book locations, but in a believable fashion. We have no idea what Elaida might have been doing in the doorway in the bowels of the White Tower—presumably she visited the snake-like Aelfinn (and the subtitles confirm this), which leaves Mat visiting the fox-like Eelfin.

The show has been dropping hints about this all season, from flashing us a shot of the first doorway in episode one, to actually showing the “snakes and foxes” tabletop game being played, and finally, here we are—while hunting for the control necklace in the Panarch’s palace in Tanchico, Mat steps through the doorway and… gets three wishes from a horrifying BDSM furry?

Break it down for us, Andrew. What the hell are we looking at?

Andrew: When you enter through these doors, the Finn give you stuff! The Aelfinn give you knowledge, by answering three questions. And the Eelfinn give you Things, both tangible and intangible, by granting three wishes. Exactly what these people are, where they live, why they have this arrangement with anyone who enters through the doorways: even in a series obsessed with overexplaining things, these are “don’t worry about it, that’s just how it is” questions. What you need to know is that the Aelfinns’ answers are often cryptic and open to interpretation, and the Eelfinns’ wish-granting is hyper-literal and comes with, uh, strings attached, as Mat quickly discovers.

Mat getting his things from the Eelfinn is essentially the moment he becomes the Mat he is for the rest of the story, like Perrin’s wolf powers or Egwene’s dream-walking or Rand’s channeling. So it’s pivotal! What did you think of how the show handled it?

Lee: I thought it was pretty fantastic! We get to see Mat’s foxhead medallion—granted in response to his screaming about how sick he is of being “bollocked about by every bloody magic force on this bloody planet.” But more importantly—possibly the most important thing of all to a certain class of book reader!—is that we also finally get to see the weapon that will define Mat both in combat and out for the entire rest of the series. That’s right, kids, it’s an actual-for-real Ashandarei—and Mat’s hanging from it, just like in the books! Well, sort of. Sort of somewhat similarly to the books!

Mat is being aligned and equipped very well now to head toward his destiny. In fact, after this much of a build-up, the most Wheel of Time-esque thing to happen now would be for him to be completely absent from season four. Ell-oh-ell.

Andrew: The Tanchico plotline is also kind of wrapped up here in abrupt fashion. In essence, our heroes fail. Not only do Moghedien and Liandrin manage to escape with all the parts of the collar they need to corral and control the Dragon Reborn, but they also agree to team up so they can beat the other Big Bads and become the biggest bads of all. I cannot see this ending well for either of them, but Kate Fleetwood’s Liandrin is such an unhinged presence on this show that I’m glad she’s sticking around.

Our heroes don’t walk away entirely empty-handed, I suppose. Thom tells Elayne that they actually know each other and tells her that “Lord Gaebril” is actually a Forsaken and a usurper whom she hasn’t actually known her whole life. And Nynaeve gets pitched into the sea, where a near-death experience dissolves the block that is keeping her from channeling freely (the show doesn’t say this overtly, but this is only lightly altered from a similar sequence that happens in book seven or eight, I think).

Lee: Right, I believe Nynaeve’s block gets busted in book seven—I remember because when I started reading the series, that was the latest available book and the event stuck out. I very much like bringing it forward, too. In the books, keeping the block around makes sense narratively and serves a solid set of purposes; in the show, it was starting to feel less like a legitimate plot device and more like a bad storytelling crutch. It has served its purpose, and it’s time to get rid of it and get on with things.

(Though it is kind of funny to note that Liandrin was the one trying to help Nynaeve break the block in the show a couple of seasons ago. Looks like Liandrin finally found a method that works! The results, though, will not be what she expects.)

Andrew: I’ve been worried about this renewal. Dramas like this just don’t get as many seasons as they would have in eras of TV gone by, and we’re several years past the end of streaming TV’s blank check era (unless you’re Apple TV+, I guess). This season has earned a lot of praise from more people than us—it’s got a higher Rotten Tomatoes score than either of the previous seasons, and higher than the second season of Rings of Power.

But it also doesn’t seem like Wheel of Time has become the breakout crossover smash-hit success that Jeff Bezos had in mind when he demanded his own Game of Thrones all those years ago. It’s expensive, and shows get more expensive the longer they run, as the people in front of and behind the camera negotiate raises and contract renewals.

I would love to see this get a fourth season. The third season had enough great stuff in it that I would be legitimately sad to see it canceled now, which is more attached than I was to the show at the end of its first or second seasons. How ’bout you?

Lee: I’ve said it a bunch, and I’ll say it again: This has been the season where the show found itself. I have every confidence that the next few seasons—if they’re allowed to exist—are going to kick ass.

But this is 2025, the year all dreams die. Perhaps this show, too, is a dream—one from which we are fated to wake sooner, rather than later.

I suppose we’ll know shortly. Until then, dear readers, may you always find water and shade, and may the hand of the Creator shelter you all. And also perhaps knock some sense into Bezos.