Focus

[Corey LeMoine]

Lir's breath hung white and misty in the still air before him. It was cold, so cold in fact that it felt as though winter were trying to make up for all the lost time of these past months. Snow lay thick on the ground, and Lir was grateful to be riding Seeker. The spirited black gelding was one of the very few possessions left to him. The steady crunch of Seekers' hooves, and sharp clean scent of snow and forest were nearly enough to put him at ease. Nearly.

 

Light, what am I doing out here.

 

He shifted in the saddle with a wince. The wound to his hip was close to being fully healed, but sitting for so long in the saddle would have him limping for hours after dismounting. He shook his head to fight off the memories that rose to the surface every time he thought of the injury. The smell of smoke and the sounds of chaos and terror threatened to overtake him whenever he let himself dwell on the gash and broken bones that had nearly killed him. He forced himself to breathe slowly, Agelmar Jagad once wrote that to conquer fear one had to control one's body. Control your body, control your mind.

 

Focus, you've made up your mind.

 

Some hours later, what man could hurry to such a fate, he came into open land. The field of snow before him was intensely bright with reflected sunlight, and he was forced to shield his eyes with the back of his hand. A black wall of rough hewn stone ran through the heart of the snowfield, its contrast against the white ground was jarring. He could that the tramped path Seeker had been following led to a gate in the wall flanked by two towers. Lir continued to control his breathing as he urged the gelding forward.

 

Maybe I can't be taught.

 

It was a foolish wish, he thought, for if it were true these last few weeks of his life would have been wasted for nothing. He had resigned from the Queens Guards, and sold nearly all of his possessions in preparation for seeking out the Asha'man. It had taken nearly all of the funds that his privileged upbringing could supply him to learn that there might be a way to meet them out here in the Andoran countryside.

 

Besides, after the injury to his leg, he would never have achieved enough rank to make a difference before the end. He still felt that need like a burning in the pit of his stomach, he would fight at Tarmon Gaidon, he would make a difference when the world finally came down to a confrontation between light and shadow. If the price were madness and death, so be it.

 

He spurred Seeker forward, careful to keep his hands up and away from the hilt of the single edged longsword at his waist. The rumors said that the black coated men were a paranoid and violent lot, it would not do to appear threatening.

 

“Stop right there.” A man atop one of the towers barked out to him. Lir's breath caught at the sight of the high collared black coat. There was a silver sword pinned there, was that some form of rank? Though the command had been sharp, there was no anger in the man's face. He looked more bored than stern. “What's your business here?”

 

Lir pulled himself up to the fullest height his five foot six frame would allow, and focused on his breathing, and speaking confidently.

 

“I am here to become a weapon for the Lord Dragon, and to fight at Tarmon Gaidon.”

[Corlock]

“I am here to become a weapon for the Lord Dragon, and to fight at Tarmon Gaidon.”

 

The Dedicated atop the tower chuckled at Lir's response, "Oh, are you now? Well, then, by all means, come right on in." The man made a sweeping gesture with his arm, and then called down into the tower, "Hey you louts, go fetch Nandiel for me, would you? We've got one who wants to join our ranks, and he's on duty for that today."

 

There was the thunk of a door shutting and then a few minutes later a young boy came trotting up, not much passed his eighteenth year. He had close cropped brown hair, and brown eyes. The look of Andor was thick about him, especially in that black andoran style coat they all had to wear. Nandiel's collar lacked pins of any sort. He'd been at the Tower long enough now that the jog from the barracks to the tower by the road didn't cause him to run out of breath any longer.

 

A few strides from Lir, he stopped his trot and continued on up to the man at a casual walk. Brown eyes would look over horse and man, before he stopped by Lir's stirup, "So, you're here to join us are you? Well, then, follow me. Have you been tested for the ability to channel yet, or did you just up and leave everything behind upon hearing about us? Either situation is not uncommon. The Lord Dragon is a ta'veren, or so they say. I've been told that means he pulls those he needs to his side. Sometimes men just show up saying they heard of the Black Tower and felt the need to join. Others, well, others we find on recruiting trips. Those ones are tested for the ability to channel before showing up here at the Farm. The first sort though, they still need to be tested. And don't worry, even if you can't channel, the Lord Dragon will still have a use for you. So, which sort are you?" As he was talking Nandiel began to walk farther into the Farm, simply expecting Lir to follow behind.

[Corey LeMoine]

Lir nodded to the man who came out to greet him. The fellow appeared to be Andoran like himself, and of an age with him. It was a good sign, and perhaps meant that he might find some comradery in this strange and dark place.

 

"So, you're here to join us are you? Well, then, follow me. Have you been tested for the ability to channel yet, or did you just up and leave everything behind upon hearing about us? Either situation is not uncommon. The Lord Dragon is a ta'veren, or so they say. I've been told that means he pulls those he needs to his side. Sometimes men just show up saying they heard of the Black Tower and felt the need to join. Others, well, others we find on recruiting trips. Those ones are tested for the ability to channel before showing up here at the Farm. The first sort though, they still need to be tested. And don't worry, even if you can't channel, the Lord Dragon will still have a use for you. So, which sort are you?"

 

Lir urged Seeker forward to follow the talkative stranger, the gate guard had called him Nandiel. "No I have not yet been tested." The accent of Andoran nobility combined with his shoulder length blond hair and fine cut of his clothes left little mystery as to his origins. "I was a soldier in the Queens guards when Trollocs attacked the palace. The Lord Dragon and his Aiel came there to fight and I was injured. It occurred to me then that a single soldier will only have so much impact on the battle to come. A living weapon however...especially one trained to lead men in battle will have much more impact."

 

He wondered if he should say so much of his motives, the few Asha'man he had seen so far had seemed somewhat hostile or sarcastic. Neither trait was in his nature, but he did not want friendliness and openess to be mistaken for weakness. He resolved to make himself pay more attention to his surroundings as they traveled through the farm. There were a surprising number of people, many of them in black coats, but also women and children which surprised him.

 

Light but its rather like a whole village of potentially rabid lions. What would happen if one of these men snapped and began to wield his destructive power against the women and children. Lir almost shuddered, he reckoned the others would put him down rather quickly and yet the bloodshed would be terrible. Is this the price of winning the last battle? Ultimately, he thought that it was, that was why he was here after all.

 

"How does one even test for...what does one test for anyway?"

[Corlock]

"No I have not yet been tested." The accent of Andoran nobility combined with his shoulder length blond hair and fine cut of his clothes left little mystery as to his origins. "I was a soldier in the Queens guards when Trollocs attacked the palace. The Lord Dragon and his Aiel came there to fight and I was injured. It occurred to me then that a single soldier will only have so much impact on the battle to come. A living weapon however...especially one trained to lead men in battle will have much more impact."

 

Nandiel would simply nod in response to the man's answer. There really wasn't much that Nandiel could say to the answer, was it any more foolish than Nandiel's reason for joining the Asha'man? The boy didn't think so, but then what did he really know of the world. He was just a simple farmer, or he had been at least. Now, well now he was a Soldier.

 

"How does one even test for...what does one test for anyway?"

 

Nandiel would chuckle, "There are two types of people who can channel. In this one respect, men and women are alike. There are those who are born with the ability to channel and will do so not matter what during their lifetime. Then there are those who can learn to channel. Left alone, they'll never start channeling, but given the proper instruction they can touch the True Source and channel, in the case of men saidin. We test to see if you can touch the True Source, we won't really know what sort you are, unless you've already begun channeling. But that's beside the point, the how is somewhat interesting. It's one of the first things they teach us here."

 

Nandiel would lift up his hand, turning the palm up towards the sky. A flame would appear hovering above his palm, as he continued walking. With his free hand he would grab hold of Lir's horse's bridle. "Look into the flame, focus only on the flame."

[Corey LeMoine]

"Look into the flame, focus only on the flame."

 

Lir started as the other lad turned towards him and...made a ball of flame appear. The sight of it was unnerving and unnatural, it was like looking straight into the face of a thousand different tales designed to frighten children into good behavior. His breath started to come quicker, and the moisture fled from his mouth. He wanted to turn Seeker around right then and leave, and he was fairly sure that the Asha'Man would let him. Once he took the "test", he figured they would not let him leave at all weather he could learn or not. Was it his imagination or had the expressions of all those around him become quite predatory? There was nothing to do for it though, he'd made up his mind and he would stick with it.

 

And so Lir stared into the flame. He used a trick that he'd been taught by his sword tutor before joining the Queens Guards. As the First Prince of the Sword was traditionally trained by the Warders, so that instruction had filtered down through the years to the military structure of Andor. His tutor had taught him the flame and void, and Lir often used it when he needed to concentrate on a particular task. Staring at the flame in Nandiel's hand, Lir poured all of his unease and tension into the small flickering light. He was still getting the hang of the technique and while the void formed around him, it was shaky and thin. It did however to allow him to concentrate on the flame. Without noticing it, he slowly brought Seeker to a halt, and the pair of young men stayed motionless in the street.

 

It had been a goodly length of time, and a mixture of anxiety and disappointment were threatening to crack through his tenuous hold on the void. There was something else in the void as well, it was like the buzzing of a biteme too close to the ear, and he shook his head to clear it of the noise. It increased in intensity until it was more like a blackfly, but it was not a sound at all. It was a strange sort of feedback coming from Nandiel's flame. He realized that that must be what he was waiting for and that it meant he was like these men. The void shattered and he put a hand to his forhead.

 

"I felt something, almost like a buzzing coming from your fire." He shrugged trying to look nonchalant. "Maybe I was imagining it...but I do not think so."

 

Lir Gilbearn

Soldier

[Grimmlocke]

Baran took a bite his Power-cooked breakfast, a slab of beef that had been left over from the previous night's meal. The Keeping weave was an amazing thing. He was learning to appreciate the more mundane uses for the Power, the small conveniences that made life in the Black Tower easier, in some ways, than his life had been back before coming. He could heat a bath almost instantly, if he had the water for it. He could keep a meal from going stale until he needed it. He could even light a fire in a hearth without having to gather wood to do so. He didn't smile outwardly, but the warm glow that would have gone with one still rose in his chest. Yes, he could save time doing things with the Power, but all the comforts it provided was nothing next to touching Saidin itself. He couldn't imagine living without it now.

 

The thought brought to mind all the men who had been burnt out in their training. He pitied them, but at least their losses could be blamed on them, or at least on accidents that happened around them. The lion's share of his pity went to any poor fool the Aes Sedai managed to lay their hands on. The idea of what those women did chased the momentary happiness away. Burn them! Burn them all to ash! Better to be executed than be Gentled by those murderous witches!

 

He snorted. "Gentling", they called it. What an insult. You gentled an animal, and the animal at least still had the will to live. No, he had no intention of letting one of those...those women get catch him unawares. He was jerked from his angry reverie by the feeling of a man channeling nearby. Not that it was uncommon for men to be channeling in the Black Tower, he just hadn't expected anyone to be channeling that close to him. He turned, and saw Nandiel holding a flame out to a man on a horse. He looked the pair over with an appraising air. Another Andoran. Just what he needed. Was he ever going to see another Cairhienin?

 

He walked over to them, catching the end of the conversation. A quick glance behind them told him all he needed to know. While most of the traffic was spreading around them, a small number of the carts and mounted travelers were starting to back up. The middle of a street was no place to perform tests. He fixed a stern look on his face and started to speak as he finished his walk over to them.

 

"You can channel, congratulations. Now why don't you clear the road so people can be on their way?" He gestured further down the road, in the general direction of the Soldier's Barracks. "You can get a bed and a uniform down at the Soldier's Barracks. Nandiel knows where it is." He said, with a nod for the other Andoran.

[Corey LeMoine]

Having yet another man in the black coat call out almost casually that he could channel brought it all crashing home for Lir. It was real. He was here and could channel, and their was no way out now. The cold wind that howled through the muddy streets was cold and lonesome, and that suited him just fine. He was led through what really was small town on it's way to becoming a large town, and eventually came to a squat barracks. Soldier here, soldier there...some things never change.

 

There were a number of men packed into the building picked out for him. They were from seemingly ever corner of the land, here an Arafelan with his silver bells, there an Illianer with his squared beared. They were probably from all walks of life as well, but the ubiquitous coats made them all equals. There was a man here with a sword on his collar and he was obviously in charge.

 

"Fresh blood eh? Another bloody Andoran." His accent proclaimed him to be a Murndian, and Lir groaned. It had to be a Murundian. "All right Sally," He pointed at Lir, "there are coats in that back closet, find one that fits. Find a bunk that doesn't have a chest next to it and bed down, there is a curfew for soldiers. I'll try and make sure someone comes to make sure you don't get lost in the morning.

 

A wicked grin came over the Murundian's face as he looked over a schedule. "Looks like your first class is weapons with Storm Leader Skechid." He chuckled, "See if you can use that pretty sword eh?" Still shaking his head, the man walked out of the barracks.

 

Well, Lir thought, it could be worse. That trolloc could have just killed him and gotten it over with.