I don't think he'll go that far into the future. My guess is that the epilogue will, however, be several years into the future. Since he had another set of books planned to show Mat and Tuon, I figure he would've used the epilogue to set that up (showing the problems with the Seanchan, as well as how things are now in the Westlands).

The reason I am convinced I won't like it has nothing to do with the fact that the characters' lives would be boring or because we will see too little of what their futures will be like, however. Instead, what will rub me the wrong way is the world we'll be left with (Egwene running the world, the Asha'man enslaved to the AS, every channeler under Eg's authority, Nyn still being beaten down and treated like garbage by Eg and everyone else with nothing but a crap life to look forward to because Lan is dead, Rand either dead or turned into a shell of a man because he is controlled by three miserable women, Mat being chained to Tuon and controlled by her, Logain's "glory" turning out to be bending knee to Egghead, etc.) and the fact that RJ, undoubtedly, expected us to find it wonderful.

I've argued with people who believe I'm wrong and are convinced that Egwene will be brought down a few pegs, but they have yet to convince me I'm wrong about how things will end. RJ's little "add-on" before the prologue of the first book shifted the focus from the Dragon (and his battle against evil) to Egwene and her quest for being "the bestest everything EVAH!" (as well as her opinion that Rand is a dullard who is unimportant and too stupid to make anything of his life). In essence, RJ was telling us that Egwene is the most important character in the series and every other character is secondary.

From the beginning, I fully expected the series to come full circle - so that the epilogue of the final book would be the Dragon (reborn) dealing with the aftermath of TG. When RJ released his "new coke" (anyone remember that?) version of tEotW, I realized that the "full circle" version would mean that the final chapter will be an Egwene chapter, showing how she has come full circle from the beginning by becoming just what she always wanted to be: "THE BESTEST MOST POWERFUL WOMAN EVAH!!!!". If it ends any other way, I will be seriously shocked.

How I think it will end is demonstrated below...but I've added a bit below it that would make it far more tolerable to me... >

Egwene rose from her seat and walked slowly toward the window. Sunlight streamed into the Amyrlin’s study, washing it in light. The rich tapestries that adorned the wood paneling had been created specifically for her, commissioned by a group of newly raised sisters, sisters that had only been Accepted she had used them in her battle against the Seanchan. At first, Egwene had been hesitant to hang them on the walls. Each one reflected some feat or accomplishment of hers, and it seemed a touch arrogant to fill her study with nothing but reminders of her successes. Silviana had allayed her concerns, however; by all rights, she should surround herself with tokens of her victories. What better way to ensure she continued to push for victory in the future?

Her lips curled into a smile as she glanced at each tapestry. One depicted her in an Accepted’s dress, her brown hair spread behind her from the storm that surrounded her. But she stood in the center of that storm, a halo of power and light surrounding her, her hands outstretched with fire crackling from her fingertips. At the bottom of the tapestry, a title was sewn: The Wrath of the Amyrlin. Pride swelled in her at the memory of that day, of how she had managed to drive the Seanchan from the Tower with the white-fluted wand. She remembered thinking how she had been a burning warrior, a hero called by the Horn. This tapestry perfectly reflected what had happened that day. It had been an incredible victory, but it had not been the only one. Egwene’s reign as Amyrlin had been wrought with successes, and those successes had allowed her to restore power and glory to the White Tower, more power and glory than it had ever enjoyed.

She looked at the next tapestry, pausing only long enough to take in the image of her with Rand and the woman who had originally claimed the right to rule this land. Around Rand’s neck was a collar, tying him to both women. In his hands, Callandor glowed brightly, but it had been Egwene who channeled that day. That had been a day full of success as well, though how it had come about had not been pleasant. Of course, she had been hesitant to collar Rand—she knew all too well how it felt to be collared like an animal—but she had recognized the necessity of it. Had she not taken control, she was certain he would have brought about a disaster worse than the Breaking. He had fought her, at first, but Elayne had soothed him. At her gentle prompting, a mere hand on his shoulder to force him to his knees, he had dropped to the ground before Egwene and sworn fealty. That one action on his part, quite possibly the most intelligent move he had made since leaving Emond’s Field, had brought about a chain of events that set the world on the correct path.

Rand’s oath to her had not only given her the leaders of the world, it had given her the Asha’man as well. At Rand’s order, almost every man who could channel submitted himself to the White Tower to be bonded. Egwene had given the Red Ajah the purpose of overseeing the bonding, much to the chagrin of the Green sisters. The latter had given Egwene trouble, at first, but she had made it clear she would accept no nonsense from them. That had been the beginning of the end of any resistance to Egwene’s rule. None questioned her authority now, and when she snapped her fingers in the Hall, the Sitters jumped. As well they should. Without her leadership, the Tower would not have survived Tarmon Gai’don.

Letting out a silent breath, Egwene allowed her gaze to fall on yet another tapestry. Who had created that particular one, she was not certain, but it had clearly taken a great deal of time to complete. Had it really only been two years since that day? It felt as though much more time had passed, so much so that it was a distant memory. The three scenes portrayed on it were in sequence, each in its own panel on the tapestry. The first panel showed a red-haired man, prostrated before her, his forehead pressed against the cold marble floor near her feet. She remembered that day so well. With the Dark One safely sealed away from the world, she had demanded that Rand submit himself to her so he could be punished for his crimes. The Hall had all but insisted, and though the girl in her had still remembered caring for Rand, the Amyrlin had recognized that the Dragon Reborn must pay for his crimes against the world. It had been the right thing to do, and it had cemented her rule.

The next panel showed her, sitting on a jewel-encrusted throne atop a dais, her cool eyes cast down upon Rand in judgment. When she had announced his fate, there had only been a few shouts of objection; Nynaeve was still doing penance for that outburst, and would be for some time to come. Egwene’s mouth tightened at the thought of the woman she once called Wisdom. One way or another, that woman would learn her place, even if Egwene had to send her to a farm for the rest of her days! Concern over her sudden anger flooded through the bond from Gawyn, but she ignored it; thankfully, he had learned his place and, at that very moment, stood motionless in the corner of her study. He would not so much as speak unless she prompted him to do so. It was nice to be surrounded by people she could depend on, people who understood their place and did not attempt to overstep themselves. It was unfortunate that Nynaeve had turned out to be so troublesome. Forcing thoughts of Nynaeve away, she calmly looked back to the tapestry.

The final panel was enough to cause another small swell of emotion. The image of Rand, on his knees with his head on a chopping block as an axe fell toward his neck, was something Egwene would not forget, even if she did not really think of the boy often. Word had spread quickly, how the Amyrlin had ordered the execution of the Dragon Reborn. After that, no king or queen dared resisting her will. It had struck fear in them, yet it had also caused them to respect her strength. When she made a suggestion, it was as good as an order. After all, if the Amyrlin would execute the man who saved the world—and drive the woman who claimed to be Empress all the way back to Seanchan with a mere order—no one would be spared her wrath if they did not obey her.

The man who saved the world. How long had it taken for that thought to be replaced by the idea that Egwene herself had successfully locked away the Dark One? She did not discourage that story. In truth, she had been the one to bring about the Shadow’s defeat. Rand had been naught but a tool, much like the white-fluted wand, and she had used him to protect the world from the Dark One’s touch.

Finally, she turned back toward the window. Below, in the courtyard, girls and women hurried from one place to another. Some had men in black coats trailing after them like well-trained hounds. The Tower was bursting at the seams now, filled with women who could channel, and every last one served the Hall’s will. Every last one served her will.

Adjusting the seven-striped stole on her shoulders so she could feel more of the sun on her skin, Egwene smiled. The White Tower was stronger than ever. The Shadow was no longer spoken of, and instead of using stories of Forsaken to frighten children into going to bed, parents now used tales of the strongest Amyrlin the White Tower had ever known and gift from the Light. At times, she wondered how things could possibly get better than they were, how the world could be any safer than it was right now with her hand to guide it, but somehow…she knew the best was yet to come.

And my little add-on...

Rand stood motionless, his brow furrowed with worry as he gazed into the cell. Save for the bars that kept its lone occupant from escaping, the finely decorated room seemed more appropriate for a queen than a prisoner. Still, there were no glasses or knives within the room, absolutely nothing that could be used to harm anyone. A long sigh emptied Rand of his breath as he shook his head sadly. Would things be different now if he had chosen a different path? No, it did no good to wonder what could have been. One thing he had learned in the past few years was that he had to face whatever consequences his choices brought instead of wishing he had made different choices. More importantly, he had learned that he could not accept responsibility for the choices others made. And this had not been his choice.

“The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.”

Unable to fight a smile, Rand turned at the sound of Moiraine’s voice and met her gaze. There was a time when he never would have believed he would be happy to see the petite woman, but now…well, now he quite proudly called her his friend. “Had I a gold coin for every time you’ve told me that, I’d be a rich man.”

Moiraine’s soft laughter filled the air, causing Rand’s smile to broaden. She had changed so much in such a short time. Had she ever laughed before she had fallen through that twisted red doorway? If she had, Rand certainly had not witnessed it. “You are a rich man, Rand. Or have you forgotten?” Before he could respond, she raised one eyebrow and added, “Nynaeve would not be pleased to hear you’re suffering memory loss…”

Affecting an expression of mock horror, Rand raised on hand. “My memory is just fine, Moiraine.” He paused. “Though I suppose I should call you ‘Mother’ now, especially now that—”

“No,” she interrupted, adjusting the seven-striped stole around her shoulders. “I hear enough of that already. Other than Thom, Siuan, and Nynaeve, I have no one who speaks to me as a woman, rather than the Amyrlin.”

Rand nodded, not taking his eyes from hers. Hearing her speak of Nynaeve as a friend was odd—especially given the animosity Nynaeve had once had toward the Aes Sedai—but the two had become good friends in the past few years. It was good for both of them, Rand suspected. Neither of them had ever made friends easily, and now that Moiraine’s quest to help the world kept her tied to a chair, she clearly needed companionship. The thought made him turn back toward the cell. The girl inside had not been like Nynaeve or Moiraine; she had always made friends easily. Now, she had none. “I wish something could be done for her,” he finally said after a long silence. It pained him to see the girl’s vacant expression, to see only a shell of what she once had been. Her long brown hair a mass of tangles and the light shimmered on the small trail of drool that leaked from her lips, but he could still see the pretty young girl he knew from Emond’s Field.

“Nynaeve did all she could, Rand.” Moiraine’s voice was soft. Soothing. “You must not blame yourself. Egwene made her own choices, and those choices led her down this path. There was no way any of us could have known that Demandred was manipulating her, using her own ambitions and arrogance against her. Against you.” She paused, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “It was the Shadow that caused her mind to snap. Not you.”

“I know. It still hurts to see her like this, though.” How was it even possible that a girl who was once so strong and willful, so passionate about doing what she thought was right, end up in such a state? Yet, he knew the answer all too well. He had once been convinced that only he knew what was right, that the only way to victory was to have everyone blindly obey him. Atop Dragonmount, he had learned his lesson. He wished Egwene had learned as well, but she had been too determined to force everyone to her will. Worse, and perhaps most dangerously, she had seen everyone as a tool for her to use. Even him. It had been that attitude that Demandred had exploited. It had been that attitude that brought about Egwene’s downfall. He would never forget that day at the Field of Merrilor, how, once he had convinced those gathered that breaking the seals was the right choice, she had demanded that the Aes Sedai take him into custody. For the good of the world, she had claimed. Only a few of the women she had brought with her stood by her side, but even they could not be convinced to channel against him. Egwene had been livid, but she had finally recognized that she could not stop him. But, as always, Egwene had not given up. She had sworn that she would find a way to stop him, and over a week later, she almost succeeded.

That was yet another memory he wished he could forget. His hand moved to his neck as though it had a will of its own. He could still feel the collar there at times. He had suffered that thing not once, but twice. The first time had been one of the most horrible experiences of his life—Semirhage forcing him to choke Min nearly destroyed him—but the second time was, in some ways, worse. Being collared by a deranged woman sworn to the Dark One was one thing; being collared by a girl he once intended to marry was quite another. All in the name of forcing him to her will…

“It is a terrible thing, but by now you must know the Pattern has a plan for us all.” Moiraine’s voice drew him from his thoughts and, once again, he turned to face her. “Perhaps she is here to serve as a warning to us all, to show us how overconfidence and willfulness can lead to our destruction. No one has all of the answers, Rand, and no one has the right to force others to his or her will. Not the Dragon Reborn, and not the Amyrlin. You learned that. She did not. That was why Demandred so easily used her. It was how he managed to break her.” She tugged gently on his arm, pulling him away from the cell. “Come. It is time we meet the others. I am certain Logain and his council have arrived by now. Thom has been entertaining the rest while I came to fetch you. Together, I’m certain we can find a way to deal with the Seanchan and finally end this war.”

Rand looked back at Egwene once more, noting how the small smile on her lips contrasted with her empty gaze. Nynaeve had told them that Egwene now lived in a world of delusions, a self-created World of Dreams. She would not be more specific than that, and when Rand had pressed her, Nynaeve told him, with tears in her eyes, that she could not bear to discuss it. What was it that Egwene imagined? He let out a short sigh; somehow he knew exactly what sort of world she had created for herself. The only consolation was that she seemed happy there. There was a time when he would have believed her to be the lucky one, not being forced to deal with the Seanchan or having to rebuild what the war against the Shadow had wrought. But now he knew better. Now, he pitied her. So, with one last glance at Egwene, Rand allowed Moiraine to lead him away.