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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Conversing with the enemy (Attention Shannon, I suppose!)


Sam

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The marvels of Tar Valon were not limited to its numerous ancient buildings, which were in their own rights spectacular. The marvels of Tar Valon could be found everywhere for the patient observer who looked. Every person possessed a mystery of life whether they knew it or not, some insight, some piece of everyday knowledge that may not be as common or well-known as they think. Insects, spiders, birds, fish, animals, every object, every natural substance—there were simply too many for one brain to comprehend it all, and luckily no one brain had to.

 

Damion gently placed his bundle on the ground and sat beside it, using the tail of his travelling cloak to stop him getting wet. His journey was not a long one, not the on foot part, but his bundle was heavy and the cool winter air was feeling very nice against his face. Never mind that he insisted upon carrying the bundle everywhere of his own freewill—you never knew when you may have an emergency.

 

The sky was grey, looking as dour and serious as the ajah sisters who chose the colour for their own. Damion was not biased towards seasons or weather. The seasons performed a service and were entirely logical in their nature and application. Best of all, seasons could be predicted with a good degree of accuracy and if one didn’t wish to be rained upon one only needed to wear a cloak.

 

He rummaged through his bundle, removing a small flask from it and taking a sip. Water. A little while back there was a stream, not quite completely frozen and its contents tasted like a cold Tar Valon morning: very refreshing; very cold. Damion replaced the flask, stood and strapped the bundle back around his shoulders and middle. The City was not far away.

 

The registered wonders of Tar Valon held little amazement for him for he had seen much, but the people, ah the people! Those he watched with avid interest, the connections, interactions, repercussions. A person could spend all their time watching the mass of humanity without fully comprehending the complexities, and paradoxically, the simplicities.

 

His goal was the Library of the Tar Valon. He reached it after being distracted by an argument between a seller and a buyer, a bird singing upon a wall and a moth that had been trapped in a spider-web. He longed to interfere with the natural process; if he did, the spider itself may well die for the sake of his interference. Better that he left it well alone and let fate decide.

 

There were larger libraries but they were not the same. No two libraries were ever the same. Whenever he was in Tar Valon he liked to stop in to peruse their shelves. On his way between the shelves he accidentally bumped into a rather attractive Accepted, who was staring intently into a book about . . . pies. He felt very sorry for anything she cooked, her expression suggested she meant business. He apologised quietly and moved on.

 

Damion was determined to read every book in this library before he died, so he was not particularly choosey. He saw a spine among many others and took a liking to it. It was a book on zoology, part of a series written by Shaneevae Sedai of the Brown Ajah. He had not encountered any of her work before. Excellent. He moved to one of the many tables, leaned his bundle against it and sat down, and then he began to read.

 

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It was there somewhere in the back of her mind filed away for use on another day, but she needed it today and it was proving to be more slippery than a frog. Shaneevae had entirely too much information tucked away in the recesses of her mind and her filing system was a horrid, disorganized mess. What good was having all this knowledge if she could not pull it forth with the snap of two fingers? Not a bloody bit as far as she was concerned.

 

Lying there, she stared at the ceiling clearing her mind of random thoughts in order to focus on the one she sought. Blue eyes rolled around in their sockets hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive thought, but no, it wasn’t to be.  Hauling her sorry form from the overstuffed, over blanketed and over heated bed, she began her morning routine, which consisted of no more than combing her hair, washing her face, brushing her teeth and finding something that fit.  The last being more difficult than one would have thought.

 

Having dressed she hurriedly made her way to the Library as she was quite certain the thought that had been eluding her was among one of her manuscripts occupying a shelf more than likely covered in an inch of dust from disuse.  A straight shot would take her directly to the athenaeum devoted specifically to science. Making her way through the shelves of books, she came upon an odd sight.  The book was gone and all that remained was the shadow of dust outlining what had been.

 

Hmmm….this is interesting.

 

Turning abruptly she circled around the surrounding tables searching for the book.  Someone was actually reading her work.  It was delightful and that thought alone put a bounce in her step. Someone of a like mind found her work interesting enough to read. Pride.  A sense of pride swelled up inside of her when she caught a man thoroughly engrossed in her words. 

 

Approaching with a feminine swagger, she leaned down and quietly asked, “Good book?”

 

 

 

 

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Leisurely devouring information was surely divine when the time for it was there. Damion, unfortunately, was always in a hurry. There was a heap to be done, even for one with his extended life and the joys of paced study were no longer his to experience. To combat this, he had trained his mind to siphon words almost clean off the pages. He read very fast; he absorbed that information.

 

By his left side sat a small square of parchment. His left hand distractedly recorded phrases and interesting observations with very neat, fine script. Normally he wrote with his right hand, having trained himself to do so, most developments in technology were right handed, if his delving into the Age of Legends was anything to go by and would be again. He was, though, sinister—left-handed, and that hand was habitually hard-wired to his brain.

 

A sudden question startled him, his left hand veering across his notations with a stripe of black. The words were still more than legible; the only offence was to his sense of style and neatness. The Brown Ajah was notorious for its lack of order. His own documents would never be so chaotic. When he died, and he knew without doubt that he would eventually, he would be known as a very precise and orderly man. The knowledge collected over the years would be catalogued and easy to find for everyone. It was only fair. That or he would scatter it across the world, for he found the hunt thrilling . . . and certainly others might as well.

 

He looked up into the eyes of an aes sedai . . . and smiled genuinely.  “It is a very good book, yes.” He paused, and “I am almost finished if you require it. There are some very interesting theories and ideas; writing them down appeared to be the wisest course.” Damion looked at his scarred page with an expression of mourning, then back to the cheerful face. “My name is Damion. And you are?”

 

“Shaneevae Sedai.”

 

“Ah. It is a very informative book.” He stood. “Care to join me?”

 

 

 

 

OOC: I didn't see the point in your wasting a whole post on telling me your name!

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“Thank you.” She said, slipping into the chair across from him, folding her arms on the table, she smiled, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Damion and I apologize if I startled you.”

 

Propping her chin on her fist, she studied the man across from her, noting the fine, meticulous script he’d used in his notes.  It was perfectly spaced and mechanically symmetrical except for one lone slash jutting out from the last of his writing. Lifting her gaze, she noticed that the man was as neat and meticulous as his notes. Not a hair out of place, all smooth and tightly tied at the nape of his neck. Glancing back down at his hands, she realized that not even a trace of ink smudged his hands. Impossible! The effort it would take to maintain smudge free hands would be…..well…...she simply couldn’t imagine it.

 

“I’m glad someone finds it informative.” Shaneevae laughed raising her chin slightly in attempt to read the notes he’d written.  “A thought had been escaping me all morning and realizing that I’d recorded that bit of information I headed directly here and what to my wondering eyes did I find?” She raised her eyebrows in question. “Nothing,” she said nodding her head for emphasis.

 

“That’s never happened before. In all the years since that book was placed on the shelf not once has it not been there when I’ve come for it. This is an exciting day, Damion. Now you must tell me how you became interested in zoology. My mind will never find contentment unless you do.”

 

 

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Placing the quill down as though almost an act of worship, Damion pushed the open book forward, signaling that his attention was no longer upon it. Next, he placed the fingers of one hand through the spaces in those of the other hand, and rested the sides of his palm heels on the table. It sounded like a very complicated movement but is not. With his hands in this locked position he could resist the temptation to gesture when he spoke.

 

He smiled again, an action that came very easily too him, and spoke, his tone careful and well-suited for a library, “I suppose I became interested in zoology at about the same moment I became interested in most everything else, which was some time ago. I grew up as a harvester of sorts; I had my scythe, my clothes, my Bride and my crops. Life was my world view was much narrower than it became later, when I was introduced the idea of knowledge.” Yes, he even managed to pronounce the word bride with a capital letter. Now that is scholarly.

 

“I’m not in Tar Valon often, and so I take the opportunity, where I can, to visit this library. It is one of the biggest and most comprehensive I have visited, and enjoys certain volumes, such as this, that other libraries do not. And what is better is that you can have a discussion here and disagree without making an enemy who may one day try to kill you.

 

“I do have to make a certain admission: that I choose this particular book was part luck and part co-incidence. I knew I would visit but I did not know what I wished to read. On my way here I came upon a moth stuck in a spider’s web and decided that today I would be fascinated by arachnids. Well, I saw your book first and so here we are.

 

“And where does your interest stem from?”

 

 

 

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