The city of Caemlyn is the capital of Andor, one of the largest and most prosperous of the Westland countries and nominally the sovereign of the Two Rivers. Most importantly perhaps, it also carries a long tradition of allegiance with Tar Valon and the White Tower. A royal matriarchy, the Daughter-Heir of Andor by custom always spends some time beyond the shining walls gaining tutelage among the Aes Sedai, no matter her gift in the One Power. As the future queen, this binds them to the Tower in a unique way and provides a safe harbor in a world where the Children of the Light may persecute or outright hunt them.

As our story begins, Caemlyn is undergoing a time of civil unrest, with reds and whites taking sides against one another in protest and bubbling riots suffused with Darkfriend paranoia spreading like pestilence and scrawled in dragon's fangs on lintels and doors. Those wearing red patches or scarves are showing at a glance that their allegiance lies with the queen. Those sporting white blame the Aes Sedai and the crown for every hardship endured as the Dark One's presence in the world became more evident.

Unending winter and rumors of trollocs roaming the wildlands are causing famine and panic. Far away to the west, a False Dragon has led a war against the Aes Sedai. But he has been defeated and is being transported under heavy guard to Tar Valon to be tried for his crimes. Any day now he will be paraded through the city as a sign of the power of the Aes Sedai and their support of the Queen in Caemlyn. Many of the curious have come to the city to see the False Dragon. Others have come for business. Still others have come because here at least is the possibility of food and warmth.



Caemlyn is considered one of the most beautiful cities in the land, second only to Tar Valon, though its natives may argue that ranking. Like a gleaming crown upon its gently rolling hills, the city is actually made up of two sections, the New City, built well under two thousand years ago by the hands of man alone, and the ancient Inner City, much of which bears the mark of Ogier stonemasons. A great fifty-foot wall of silver-white stone surrounds most of the official perimeter of the city, broken by tall round towers that flank massive arched gates. Outside the wall, buildings cluster thickly like lichen to a log, spreading outward from the glittering mosaic of the city in a gradual dispersion. Within its outer walls, the city is laid out in a crazy quilt of streets and byways, with towers and domes gleaming white and gold in the sun.