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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

This time we'll get it right...((ATTN: Simmen.))


Kura

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Sereth sat in the middle of a field, a league or so away from the main settlement that they had affectionately deemed ‘the farm’. Why so far out? Well, he liked it out here first and foremost. It was peaceful, when the farm had a near constant sound of explosions, shouts, and was quickly gaining the bustle of a small city. Though he came from Camelyn himself, he had to admit that the noise never suited him, and he had long since tied off a ward of silence around his own quaint home.

 

But of course, there were other reasons. There almost always were, after all. He was to introduce another to the wonders- and terrors, of Saidin today. Though if the reports were accurate, the man had already supposedly been addressed. Why then, was the Asha’man being asked to go through the steps from the very beginning? The Andorian could only assume incompetence on the part of the man’s earlier teachers. The thought saddened him; many good men had been lost in Shienar… Blue lightning, arcing from the sky. Every bolt thicker than his wrist, every bolt taking a life… He pushed the memory aside, something he had become increasingly proficient in. I survived, and I will not fail this man.

 

Yet another reason for this spot, he was able to raise a simple yet comfortable chair and table for the two, in case the recruit would have any questions for the far more experienced man. One that Sereth wouldn’t be sad to see destroyed when they did get down to business, not even the earthenware cups and teakettle that had been similarly constructed with the source. The thought of tea brought a smile to his lips. It would serve as a gentle demonstration of the wondrous things that the solder would be able to do.

 

Speaking of whom, Sereth’s sharp eyes caught him approaching from across the field, and he put on his warmest smile, his light blue eyes gentle, but examining. When the other man finally reached him, Sereth spoke in his usual light manner. “Hello, so sorry for the walk, but I prefer this spot to the usual training grounds. It is more personal, don’t you agree?” The Asha’man chuckled, running his fingers through his short brown hair, “Oh yes! I almost forgot, my name is Sereth Arian, and I am sure you’ve surmised, I will be teaching you about Saidin, the male half of the true source, today. What is your name, and have you any questions?” Sereth already knew the man’s name to be Simmen, but he wanted a way to get the man to speak. What could he say; the Asha’man liked people, fascinating as they were.

 

While Simmen answered his inquiries, Sereth seized Saidin, the familiar life or death struggle exhilarating now as it was when he first embraced it with Drak, and the taint still as vile, but the struggle was in the back of his mind. Experience had been a wonderful teacher. He strained water into the pot, and threw in some herbs with flows of air. “Tea?” He wove fire, bringing the pot to a quick boil. “It is my own recipe, and it does wonders to calm the nerves.”

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"Good sir Sereth. Uhm, Asha'man Sereth, I mean.", Simmen added hastily.

"Name is...Simmen."

 

He'd been with these men in black for some time now. A time that seemed to not be very long. Yet it did just that.

 

Not men in black. Asha'man.

 

I am one of them. A Soldier.

 

 

A Soldier that was not without thoughts, though.

 

 

The harsh exercises had continued day after day. Simmen thought that he'd be able to slowly get used to them. He already did. The cramps when the day was done didn't bother all that much anymore. Nor the cold. Nor the eternal seeming runs.

 

He'd received more lessons in weapons, as well. Not just sticks, though.

 

Several times, Asha'man and...Dedicated(that's their name) would try to teach a mob of "pupils" the...One...Power...

On one such occasion, the teacher started to become...weird...

Other black-coats stood at the ready, eying the teacher warily.

Then, suddenly, when the teacher started to mumble so much non-sense and to gesticulate around, they grabbed him. Dragged him away.

 

That was worrying. Very worrying.

 

Of no matter now, though.

The teachers before "had been insufficient", another Dragon-and-Sword had said, so now Simmen had been sent to this Andoran, by his sound. "The Tower no wants to waste your strength, Soldier."

 

So there he was, the Soldier Simmen.

"What is your name, and have you any questions?"

 

"Asha'man Sereth, you heard about the incident? Did the Ladies take him, or something?"

He would know what Simmen meant by that; the story had been all over the Farm in no time.

 

"Tea will do, thanks, good sir."

 

Earthen tables, earthen chairs...Simmen started to take those in in stride.

Same with men succumbing to madness and needing to be taken down like rabid beasts.

 

EDIT: Corrected...Team to time.

Rofl at me, omfg.

:D

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Sereth's lips turned down into a frown, and a soft sigh rolled off his lips. "Ladies? Well, he was taken care of if thats what you mean. We have a very special drought to take care of those who succumb to the taint on Saidin, well, those who succumb past a certain point. If we took every man who heard a voice whisper in his ear, there would be even fewer of us Simmen." With flows of air he poured both of them a cup of tea. Taking the cup gently in his hands, he sipped, the slightly bitter taste bringing a smile back to his lips. "Oh, and I do apologize for lack of familiarity with your home's customs, and here I prided myself on knowledge of all the lands." A chuckle escaped, and again he smoothed his hair. A habit he had developed when he was slightly embarrassed.

 

"But in truth, that hardly matters. What matters now is that you learn to wield Saidin, and become the greatest weapon the Light and the Dragon have to wield. It is a sad truth, but no less true because of it. I have struggled against the fact myself, but I have recently seen battle Simmen. I can tell you that we are needed." His blue eyes grew misty for a moment, again pushing away the memories. I will find you dreadlord... Have no fear of that.

 

Sereth recovered quite quickly, and looked again at the man, his quizzical eyes examining him as he did all. "Unless you have other questions, we should begin. Tell, me, do you know anything of seizing Saidin? Or even what it is? Or will I have to start from the beginning?" Realizing that the last bit might push the solder into saying he knew a bit more than he actually did, he added hastily. "It matters little either way, by the end of the day you will have touched and used the source." Again Sereth flashed his grin. He was ever confident in his abilities to teach.

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"Oh, and I do apologize for lack of familiarity with your home's customs, and here I prided myself on knowledge of all the lands."

"That's no problem, good sir...nobody's heard of the Ladies, it would almost seem."

Except for me, and Horn's End, anyway. He added in his head.

 

"...the greatest weapon the Light and the Dragon have to wield. It is a sad truth, but no less true..."

True?

Simmen grew up knowing that shame was a virtue. Given the Ancient Debt.

He let it slide, though. For him, there was no "Light", as was claimed. There was only the Ladies of the Storms, the Creator, the Father of the Night...

...And now, the Dragon Reborn.

 

"Unless you have other questions, we should begin. Tell, me, do you know anything of seizing Saidin? Or even what it is? Or will I have to start from the beginning?"

"Good sir Asha'man...I think you'd better start from the beginning."

It had had something to do with me bow... Simmen had mused often about that day. Somewhere far, far back in his head.

When that "voice" grew louder, he quenched it. He could not use it now. Not yet. Not here.

 

 

"It's no problem, Asha'man Sereth. Been told that I'm no good quite often..."

With that, Simmen slided into silence. Waiting.

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Sereth rose a brow at the man. What has happened to the boy? His depression is almost palpable... Normally even the hardest nut is cracked by this point. He filed it away for future study. "Simmen, I didn't say you were no good. Ignorance does not mean inferiority, especially when one is working to correct it." Sereth took a deep breath and continued. "Very few can do this, but I feel I must tell you. Your old life means nothing when you come here, I am sure you have met Attack Leader Arath. He is a great man, and a fantastic leader, but from what I can gather he was a slummer in Camelyn. I was a merchant's son, but my families wealth bought me nothing here." He looked directly into Simmen's eyes as he spoke, trying to drive the point home. A depressed solder was less likely to defend himself on the battlefield, and though he hated to think of his fellow men this way, each Asha'man was far to valuable to throw themselves away.

 

"Ironicly, the first step to channeling may help you in particular. You see, when we wield Saidin, an intense battle wages in our mind, and we can not allow our emotions or thoughts to distract us from that battle, but at the same time can't ignore the world around us. As such, we use a swordsmen's concentration technique called Ko'Di, which translates into 'the oneness', but is far more commonly known as the Flame and the Void." Sereth took a breath, sipping his tea to let the information seep in. He knew he had a habit of talking to much or to fast, and these pauses were his effort to correct the mistake.

 

"What I want you to do, is picture a flame in your mind. A candle flame, a bonfire, or hell a forge fire if that is what suits you, just picture a flame." He waited for the man to do so, and spoke softly, a few seconds pause between each sentence. "Now, feed everything you are into the flame. Start with your past. Then let it consume your emotions. Last, your thoughts. When this is done, a void will be in your mind, and you will have achieved Ko'di." Sereth waited, watching for any signs of struggle within the man. He knew that for beginners, this could be infuriating, but the self-proclaimed philosopher had faith that Simmen could accomplish the task set before him.

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"Simmen, I didn't say you were no good. Ignorance does not mean inferiority, especially when one is working to correct it."

That's right, Simmen thought at that. Else I might as well have stayed in Horn's End, and let them hang me.

 

Question was, had he been too cowardly to do that? He did not want to dwell on that.

 

 

"Very few can do this, but I feel I must tell you. Your old life means nothing when you come here, I am sure you have met Attack Leader Arath. He is a great man, and a fantastic leader, but from what I can gather he was a slummer in Camelyn. I was a merchant's son, but my families wealth bought me nothing here."

It's not that sort of thing, sir, Simmen wanted to say, driven to it by some...sad? Angry?...vein inside his head.

Not that at all.

"Ironicly, the first step to channeling may help you in particular. You see, when we wield Saidin, an intense battle wages in our mind, and we can not allow our emotions or thoughts to distract us from that battle, but at the same time can't ignore the world around us. As such, we use a swordsmen's concentration technique called Ko'Di, which translates into 'the oneness', but is far more commonly known as the Flame and the Void."

"Aim, draw, loose", Simmen whispered.

He did not want to say it out loud. It just happened, though.

 

"What I want you to do, is picture a flame in your mind. A candle flame, a bonfire, or hell a forge fire if that is what suits you, just picture a flame."

Picturing what Simmen knew, not so much picturing, but repeating, was easy enough.

It settled into him, that silent calm before the shot.

 

He was aware of...something...more now, though.

 

"Now, feed everything you are into the flame. Start with your past. Then let it consume your emotions. Last, your thoughts. When this is done, a void will be in your mind, and you will have achieved Ko'di."

The past fed Simmen, indeed.

He now knew how he had done it.

 

Cold called to him. Heat called to him.

 

Death called.

 

OOC: Up to you whether he does something...stupid. ;)

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Sereth heard the man speak, and nodded. The man was an archer, as such perhaps a bow technique would work better. Either way, the man looked to have achieved the void, even if it couldn't technically be called as such. Sereth's eyes widened as he felt the man seize Saidin, and instantly he grasped the power himself, weaving a powerful shield and holding it aloft, ready. He had not expected the man to seize it so quickly. "Good, though it appears you have skipped a step in my tutelage. That feeling you are experiencing, it is the fight with Saidin. Never succumb to it, that way leads to death, or worse, loosing the ability to channel. That flilth is the taint covering Saidin, which will drive you mad, or cause your body to rot while you still live. it is not an easy life for us."

 

Sereth still couldn't quite crack the man, and it was starting to perplex him. The tower was a magnet for the dirty, the unstable, and all other kinds of men who would stick out in every day settings. Sereth had been quite good at getting in the head of most of these men, and prided himself on that fact. Simmen however, was proving quite resistant to his probings. Still, the class had to go on.

 

"Careful how much you draw, to much and you run the risk of burning yourself out, or loosing the ability to channel. Now, I want you to examine the power, you will notice that it is not as solid as it first appears. You should discover five distinct pieces of the power. These are the five elements. They are fire and earth, the two most men are proficient with, water and air, the so called woman's elements. The final, is spirit, which is generally split pretty evenly among us." He gave the man a moment to study the source.

 

When he felt he had enough time, Sereth took a deep breath, preparing to slam a shield home. Hard. "Now, grasp one of the strands, and try to extend it. One. At. A. Time." He punctuated each one of the last words, he didn't want the man waving around multiple flows just yet. "Some will be easier to use than others, tell me which you find the easiest to use."

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"Good, though it appears you have skipped a step in my tutelage. That feeling you are experiencing, it is the fight with Saidin. Never succumb to it, that way leads to death, or worse, loosing the ability to channel. That flilth is the taint covering Saidin, which will drive you mad, or cause your body to rot while you still live. it is not an easy life for us."

Simmen knew what the man was talking about.

He felt empty. He felt filled to bursting at the same time, though.

Rivers of burning ice. Fires of frozen ice.

And above all, the...stench...of death. Like the corpse of a goat shot two months ago.

 

Distantly, he felt his middle groan for that.

 

"Careful how much you draw, to much and you run the risk of burning yourself out, or loosing the ability to channel. Now, I want you to examine the power, you will notice that it is not as solid as it first appears. You should discover five distinct pieces of the power. These are the five elements. They are fire and earth, the two most men are proficient with, water and air, the so called woman's elements. The final, is spirit, which is generally split pretty evenly among us."

He could see that now, as well...Veins that were...earthen, veins of fluidity, veins of fire, veins of...something...not seen yet seen, as solid and visible as all the others.

And above all, the sickening stench.

 

"Now, grasp one of the strands, and try to extend it. One. At. A. Time." He punctuated each one of the last words, he didn't want the man waving around multiple flows just yet. "Some will be easier to use than others, tell me which you find the easiest to use."

Simmen felt more familiar with the crackling fire, the flowing water and the airy air, for some reason.

Guess Tmas and companions were right, a wry thought went through his head. A thought farther off than it would have been had he not this...sight...in front of him. This swarm of disorder and death.

Earth was...not unfamiliar, just too...heavy, barring any other description. The other, invisible flow seemed to slip out of his hands, like a ghost.

 

The heat called to him the most, somehow.

Still, it was Air Simmen chose, as it felt so very...familiar.

Through the darkening stench and sickness, through the storm, he tried to force a bit out of that tempest to...obey...his gesture. A tiny spark.

Compared to the sea.

 

His stomach rumbled, again. Far off, far away.

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((OOC: Hmm, Dhai, was that last one in stanzas or is it just me? lol))

 

Sereth watched patiently as Simmen tried to push forth the threads of Saidin. He seemed to have excruciating difficulty with even this. Still after a long while, he managed to do as he was told. Though he held back on informing Sereth which he preferred, which irked the Andorian a bit, but he kept it hidden. "Good, you seem to have strength in fire, water, and air. An unusual combination, but not completely unheard of."

 

Pouring himself another steaming cup of tea, Sereth drank deeply before continuing. "Now, select any two, and simply spin them together, this will be your first exercise in weaving. These are simple training spirals, and won't actually make a visible effect, however they should demonstrate the basis for channeling quite well. Begin."

 

((Sorry that it was so short/metagaming, but I was having some difficulty working with that last one, no offense of course.))

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"Now, select any two, and simply spin them together, this will be your first exercise in weaving. These are simple training spirals, and won't actually make a visible effect, however they should demonstrate the basis for channeling quite well. Begin."

 

Spin them together? Out of that Father-accursed mess?, the thought slid through his head.

 

The wisp of air that had obeyed him had done so like something almost alive. It had been all Simmen could do to make it obey.

It was a struggle for life and death, Saidin was.

 

Far off, that that was his body seemed to shake convulsively, the core of that in his guts.

 

 

The heat, and the cold air called to him, and he tried to force them under his fist.

 

Unconsciously, Simmen did just that. Ball his hand into a fist.

 

The power to destroy.

 

The Power to kill.

Without that, Simmen would have been nothing. Less than nothing. A murderer. Scum. Creator-forsaken, scum, as bad as any misguided fool that favoured the Night.

 

 

Inside the head that did not seem to be his anymore, some bone-deep sad thought seemed to rise. Some bone-deep furious one.

I need to hold on, whatever it takes. I need to hold on.

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Again, Simmen was having extraordinary difficulty with channeling, but that was not so unusual. Again, though, the man had accomplished what he was told to do, spinning together the flows as he was instructed. The man needed practice though. Still, there was little Sereth could do to aide him, as only time would further his ability to weave.

 

"Good Simmen. I know how difficult that was for you, but I can promise that it will get much, much easier. You just need practice, and with time it will come as naturally as breathing. As such, I suggest we go back to town, and you practice. There is very little I can do for you at this moment in time."

 

Sereth stood, stretching his limbs. He had been sitting still for quite a few hours. "I can escort you back if you desire. Though I'll be walking, not traveling to get back to the farm. Never ignore your body, just because you can channel. The source draws on your endurance, both mental and physical."

 

With that, the andorian began the short journey back to civilization, and to the inn. Tea was well and good, but it did not fill his belly as properly roasted mutton would...

 

((You made word count, and I'm kinda tired and hungry. Finishing this up, but if you want you can extend it for conversation and the like, it'll just take me a while longer to respond lol. ))

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OOC:

"((You made word count, and I'm kinda tired and hungry. Finishing this up, but if you want you can extend it for conversation and the like, it'll just take me a while longer to respond lol. ))"

Nah, not at an end, yet.

Just adding something to show off that that...experience...nearly finished the poor boy. xD

Feel free to leave it at that there, or else do whatever you feel like. ^^

 

BTW: Nice move on the though-ing. xD That's something I need to work on, still.

 

IC:

"Good Simmen. I know how difficult that was for you, but I can promise that it will get much, much easier. You just need practice, and with time it will come as naturally as breathing. As such, I suggest we go back to town, and you practice. There is very little I can do for you at this moment in time."

 

Simmen could not bear the strain any longer. Violently, he retreated from that raging storm, from the eye of the storm, into his own self.

 

"Can't be serious, good sir", Simmen panted, holding his middle, trying very hard to not think of the bad taste on his tongue.

 

"I can escort you back if you desire. Though I'll be walking, not traveling to get back to the farm. Never ignore your body, just because you can channel. The source draws on your endurance, both mental and physical."

 

"Can see that, good Asha'man sir. Can see that." Simmen tried to breathe in the clean air, to get rid of that foul odor...

 

"Could you help me? I doubt I can do that walk. Much less do that...err...traveling?"

 

Likely, the man meant gateways by that. But Simmen's head was too full with the foulness he'd felt, so he could not really grasp at that any further. That rotten stench still lingered, and ate its way through him.

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