Fleshing out a Plan

[Corey LeMoine]

Early morning light played across the Tower grounds. The sky was clear, and the air was sharp and crisp. Though it was as bitterly cold as normal, the seemingly ceaseless wind had died down, and Lir was grateful for it. He stood at attention, floating in the void as he often did now. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he looked as if he were awaiting the inspection of a superior. He was not, he was alone this morning, or nearly so. He stood next to a small outbuilding at the perimeter of the grounds. There, fifty or sixty feet ahead was the object of his study. The Traveling grounds.

 

An Asha'man standing in the grounds seized Saidin and wove a complex pattern of spirit. Lir was almost certain that he could follow the weaves, and yet each time that he had tried it, the pattern simply dissolved into nothing. He thought that he simply lacked the strength in the Power to form the weave. It was frustrating, just before he had been raised to the dedicated, his strength in the Power had grown dramatically all at once. He had spoken with some of the other dedicated and Asha'man, and they all confirmed this to be a typical pattern of growth. It appeared that he was on a plateau, well he intended to push himself even harder.

 

A vertical line of light appeared in the Traveling ground, it rotated and became an image of the Tower's front in Tear. When the Asha'man walked through, the whole in reality closed behind him leaving behind only the trodden snow. Lir made his way towards the empty patch of ground. He moved with a grace that he had not possessed when he arrived here. He was only skilled enough with the sword to be called competent, but the weeks of training showed in his body. Along the way he emptied himself of emotion and pulled Saidin into him. It's filth rolled through his brain, he was beginning to fear that he could feel the taint even when the Power was gone. Such thoughts were far away when the dangerous beauty of life itself was searing his veins. He pulled in nearly as much as he could, the warning tingles of pain reminded him of his first brush with the power, an incident that left his arm blackened and burned. No matter.

 

He wove air first. He was not particularly strong with air, and yet it was not beyond him like some of the other men he knew. The weaving was about as complex as he could manage, and it had taken so many hours of practice to memorize the pattern. He worked a fine thread of earth into the weave, easy that. Earth and fire came more naturally to him. Last he added a thick cord of spirit. When the weave was complete, he used it to bore a whole into the pattern, and he was rewarded with a thin line of light that hung in the air for a brief moment before rotating. The Gateway opened into a pitch black space less maw. Before him, just inside the Gateway, there was a small paved patio with a stone bench. He stepped inside and took a seat. Excitement and fear rolled across the edge of the void, finally the weave had worked. He exhaled slowly and closed the Gateway. There was no sense of motion, and yet he knew that he was moving towards his destination. In mere moments the Gateway opened and he stepped out onto an outcrop of rock located on the far side of the Tower compound. He had come to study this spot on many occasions, and just as he'd been told, the skimming had brought him right to it.

 

His fascination with Traveling, and thus with skimming had begun shortly before he was raised to the dedicated. It had been sparked by an offhand comment from Gavin. 'Fight for the Dragon Reborn, and see the world.' The gleeman's words had spun about for days in Lir's head. Lying in bed one night, it had hit him. Artur Hawkwing had written about scouts and information gathering. Knowing more than the enemy was the key to nearly every battle. The ability to Travel cut the size of the battlefield down considerably. Lir had been thinking about it quite a bit lately. The obvious applications were in troop movements and securing supply lines. Both of those things would be invaluable contributions to battle brought by the Asha'Man in addition to the terrible destruction that they could unleash. But Lir felt that information gathering was an aspect of the Power that had been somewhat overlooked.

 

The problem was, as he saw it, one of numbers. A single Asha'Man could only cover so much ground, no matter how mobile he was, where as a group of male channelers was far to valuable a resource to commit simply to reconnaissance missions. So what was the work around? Lir had an idea, but how far he was able to pursue it would depend on several things. First he wanted to discuss the idea with some of the dedicated that he had closer relations with.

 

He completed the skimming weave again, and rode the stone bench back to the training grounds. He made his way briskly through the unpaved streets of the town proper until he arrived at the inn. It was somewhat less grand than he had been led to believe as a soldier, and the wine was rather less good than he was used to. Yet it was the economics of scarcity, it was the closest inn for miles and miles and he did not know of any dedicated who could really Travel yet. He made his way into the common room and ordered a glass of wine. He took his customary table near the center of the room. In the strange paranoid climate of the Tower, the table in the center of the room was nearly always free. He looked around to see if there were any familiar faces about.

[Clepto]

Sweat beaded on Gavin's brow as he concentrated on the object before him. He had been wielding the Power for what seemed like days, though in reality it was only about an hour or so, but he held as much as he could. He had to focus all of his will on what he was doing, or the piece he was working on would be ruined. And he had used a significant portion of his funds to purchase a piece of steel so large. He had money left, but not enough for another attempt.

 

Before him on a workbench in the armory was a new version of the weapon he had taken to using. P'dao was the proper term for it in the Old Tongue, though everyone had taken to calling it a halfspear. Gavin hadn't known there was actually a formal name for this weapon, but one of the Soldiers at the Tower had been something of a historian in Cairhien before coming here, and had seen the weapon in drawings and descriptions of battle. Nobody but the historian had ever heard of the weapon. Or the battles. The style of weapon apparently dated back before Hawkwing, though it had fallen out of usage long before even that time period. He had no clue how one came to be at the Tower. It looked quite a bit newer than a thousand years, though it seemed that it had spent most of its life in someone's attic.

 

Unfortunately, the halfspear broke, only days after Gavin began practicing with it. While it was most certainly not as old as Hawkwing, it was equally certain that the weapon was at least two generations old, and the wooden haft had weakened where it joined with the blade. Which brought Gavin to the task at hand.

 

Earth was his strongest Power, and Gavin had successfully changed the shapes of other various things made of metal and stone, so he figured the principal would be the same in this case too. He was mostly correct, though properly shaping a weapon took much more finesse than making a chair out of a boulder. He had practiced with other, smaller, metal items before taking on this project, and he had gotten quite good at it.

 

It wasn't exactly a Power-wrought weapon. It was made using the One Power, sure. But it wasn't created with the Power. It would not be nearly indestructible. And it would definitely need sharpening. No, it was a mundane weapon, simply formed using the Power instead of a blacksmith. Gavin release his weave of Fire to let the weapon cool before he handled it. It still floated on Air however, no need to set the work bench on fire. Weaving razor thin slices of Earth, Gavin honed the edges of the blade to razor sharpness. It would be razor sharp now, though he would have to use a regular whetstone on it to keep that edge.

 

Forged of a single piece of steel, the weapon was almost as long as Gavin was tall, and half of that length was blade. The blade was straight, with a deep fuller and a double edge, ending in a sharp point for thrusting. Where the blade met the haft was a ring quillion to protect the hands from other blades sliding down. Gavin had added sword-breaker notches to the ricasso, figuring that the superior leverage afforded by the weapon would enable him to disarm opponents more easily. The haft was a smooth rod of steel, and Gavin had already had a leather wrap made for it, along with a scabbard for the blade. The butt of the haft ended in a large ring. Gavin actually didn't know the purpose for the ring, but the original had one, so he kept the design.

 

Judging the weapon finally cool enough to touch, Gavin dropped it into his waiting hands with Air. Giving it a quick spin and flourish, careful not to strike the ceiling. Laying it back on the bench, he wrapped the haft with the leather that he had had prepared for it. The black leather strip was mostly unadorned except for the image of the Dragon pin, spaced evenly down the length of it. When he wound the strip tight around the haft, the Dragons gave the appearance of chasing each other up a spiral staircase. He had not asked for the adornment, but he like the look of it regardless.

 

He fit the blade into the scabbard, and made a mental note to have some sort of strap made so that he didn't have to carry it all the time. Leaving the armory, he carried the halfspear over his shoulder as he strode towards the inn. As a Dedicated, he was finally allowed in, though the place was predictably over-hyped. Bad service, and worse ale, but it was the only place around. Bad ale aside, Gavin felt a drink was well deserved after the time and effort spent on the new weapon.

 

When he walked into the common room, he glanced around and saw the usual faces of Asha'man and Dedicated. And Lir, sitting at the middle table as usual. Gavin strode to the table and sat down opposite the Andoran former noble, propping the halfspear up against the table. "Good afternoon Lir," Gavin said, "You look like you have something on your mind."