The grace of training (Attn Saline)

[Jaydena]

Lyssa eyed her bed one last time, her eyes taking it in, she so badly wanted to climb back into it. Of course her bedroom wasn't a very welcoming place these days. Her and her roommate did not get along even remotely. She shook her head and picked up her sword from off the bed, she belted it around her hips and walked from the room. A pair of black pants graced her long legs, and a short waist length jacket and shirt in white and red set off her dark hair. The thick black hair was hooked into a ponytail and she wore boots and only a necklace of a rose that her mother had given her. Her thoughts wanted to stray off and focus on her mother but she pushed them away. Today she would be training for the first time, she had been so busy with guard duty and tours and such that she had never wanted to train. However Aran had convinced her that it was the thing for her to do, he told her that she would be a good teacher, she had patience and a caring attitude. So here she was on her way to train a future Aes Sedai.

 

She shuddered softly, her dealings with most Aes Sedai did not go well, the only one she even liked was Jaydena Sedai and sometimes she had the feeling that there was more going on between her mother and Jaydena than what she could see. In fact after her mother had turned the bond down so many times, she had considered approaching Jaydena. After much debate and considering the person she was bonded to, she decided that it would be the final nail in the relationship coffin with her Mother. Lyssa swung from the barracks and made her way out into the yard, she hadn't had any contact with this Accepted or in fact any Accepted. She expected to be looked down on and treated with no respect. Whining would be part of the training without a doubt but that was to be expected.

 

The girl would of course think she was better, if the child only knew who her Mother was, she would hit the ground in shock, as it was they tried to keep the Aunt knowledge to a minimum, her Mother was frightened that she would be kidnapped by someone who wanted to get at her. She looked around the yard and spotted the woman wearing a outfit with banded stripes at the bottom, the Tower had allowed them to wear pants for training but they still had to wear the stripes so they wouldn't flirt with anyone. With a sigh, she wondered why she had agreed to this and then tapped the woman on the shoulder. "Hello, my name is Lyssa Simeone and I will be your mentor for your training." She waited for the woman to speak, she figured she would recognize the name and of course make the connection, she was the spitting image of her mother, omly taller, with blue eyes instead of gray and long hair.

 

Lyssa Simeone

[Lih-Lyh]

The figure ducked down from the wind, the reddened nose and soft pink cheeks peering brightly, sandwiched between a warm muffler and the even toastier misshapen wool capping the honeyed curls. Despite the coat it was cold, and she was grateful for that there would be no incidents with the skirt or anything to that nature. As she crouched in the cold the only indication that the blonde was not a trainee was the outfit she wore. Saline grinned wryly when she unfolded the leggings she was given. It was liken to tower livery in style and colour, yet the band of seven at the edges declared her status. The rainbow would caution the trainees toward her, to make sure of her intentions to learn the blade, and not gain knowledge of the blade-wielders with this access. Her feelings were unaffected to be alienated in the yards the first day, and probably after, though she thought an exercise in judgment, and discipline might have been a better if less easy way of teaching the newcomers as well as the regulars how to trust. However, the process would be worth less the tediousness of looping her belt through. The hope would be that this was the hassle she deserved.

 

Light, it is colder than a witch’s tits here. She laughed in her head at that, for it was the particular phrase that never failed to cross her mind whenever she felt her nostrils rapidly freezing. Rubbing her gloved hands together, though it served little but to wear thin the already chaffed leather Saline felt even better than before. Perhaps it was being let out for the first time since that last free-day, that horrid shopping excursion with Syara. Their trip was lovely until they met with Mina. Oh, Mina, she shook her head in wonder. Another one of the proper curling irons, and the terribly earnest need to be recognised as an expert in the field of cosmetics as well as conforming everything else to her logic that afternoon. Da Meeena. Once more a laugh chimed through her head, a pleasant resonance that was especially vibrant with awareness that the other was thriving in the bowels of the Tower… Quite a number of things had amused her this morning since she woke and stuck the ring into a box for safekeeping. An exorbitant price was paid for the ring she bore. It twinkled on her fourth finger, the gilded snake swallowing all it could of itself. The association to the immortality she was committed, bound to the duty, yet neither conditioning nor exile could erase the fear of snakes from the former noble. Does shedding one’s skin renew one’s allegiances? Suspicion of betrayal and abandonment was deeply rooted, the seeds that were watered ever since the testing, sown and repressed long ago.

 

She was finding out that the optimal time for her was in the mornings, when she could concentrate. Taking advantage of that, she had scheduled an appointment with her Mentor for weapon training. She expected to be slow at this but to take everything in her resilient way. She had already considered what weapon she wanted. When the caravan was in Tear they had seen scimitars, those blighters were quicker with slashing their steel than Tairens with their tongues. A light tap gave the only indication of another’s presence. Saline was easily surprised, which facilitated the job of making her jump. Her dark brown eyes widened to see a woman decked in plain clothes, looking rather glamorous. As the woman Lyssa spoke, Saline realised that she liked having a woman as her Mentor, she did not suppose she would be comfortable with men around. She smiled in greeting, letting the Taraboner accent thicken with her words. “Miss Lyssa, my name is Saline. I know so little about the training regimen that I am unable to fathom even what to ask you, Miss Lyssa.” She winced slightly at the nervous tremor in her voice, but managed to steady her expression. It was exciting, and very much terrifying. In short, the contact was as it should be. She reckoned she’d be Miss Lyssa’ing for a while yet until she remembered the name. And she would be accepting even while flailing and stumbling as befitting a beginner.

[Jaydena]

The woman's eyes widened as she took her in and Lyssa wondered what she was thinking, was she surpised to find a woman as her mentor? The accepted looked her over and then gave her a big smile. Lyssa was slightly taken back but returned the smile as the woman spoke, “Miss Lyssa, my name is Saline. I know so little about the training regimen that I am unable to fathom even what to ask you, Miss Lyssa.” Lyssa heard Saline wince and she almost chuckled before she spoke, "Hello Saline, you may call me Lyssa, let's forget the formality, by the time we are done you will be crying and screaming and cursing the day you heard my name and will be so out of breath you won't be able to add the Miss part." She smiled at the other woman, "Trust me it happened to me when I came here. As for what to ask me, I suppose you could ask me to take your to armoury to pick out a weapon." Lyssa saw the girl nod and she led the way to the large building, from which a large amount of noise was ensuing. She chuckled and walked into the hot area, she smiled at the smithy's and then led the way around them and into the storage area that housed all the weapons. The walls were covered in every kind of sword you could imagine, they ranged from the big kind like what Cairma carried all the way down to smallest and most easily hidden daggers.

 

Turning Saline she spoke, "I led you through the men working so that you could see what they have to go through to make these weapons, it's very hot in there and very hard physical work. Your arms would be screaming afer five minutes lifting those hammers and they do it all day. So please remember this when you are caring for your sword or not caring for your sword. That is of course assuming that the sword is your weapon of choice." She turned to the swords and spoke, "As you can see there are bastard swords, short swords, sabres, broad swords, katana, scimitars, well the list really goes on and on." She walked toward the next section, "We have axes, staffs, long bows, short bows, crossbows, daggers, spears, flails, maces, and much more. Why don't you take a look around and show me what you are interested in."

 

Lyssa Simeone

[Lih-Lyh]

Saline nodded and followed her Mentor submissively. It would be bad form to show that fear, still the chuckle did not bode well, especially with the pledge of hard work awaiting her. But the Accepted was not afraid of toil; rather it was the apprehending disappointment that checked her initial excitement. You could still go back to the Way. O, the leaf, the way, hasn’t a grown woman surrendered to expected roles, the constraints of caring what others thought, sufficiently? I do not wish to change myself for others, nor have I need to be removed from the Wheel of Life, this place buxom with trainees going about on chores, drins betrothed to mock battles and guards on and off duty, or off duty acting as though it was on anyway. It boils her blood. She knew better than to presume something could slip past the vigilant watch, that scattered appearing randomly distributed lazy glances, as the plaza tightened into an alley. She’s led a soft life, she realized as they glided past a trainee stretching by a post. Light, the man is as flexible as a cat! They neared the clanking from the forge deafened as though thunder and she was reminded of this new music the youths of the Caravan used to pain their folks with, the sort that would induce internal bleeding if sustained for long. And the heat, o the heat was overwhelming. Her head felt swimmy as they turned a corner to the armory next to the smithy’s.

 

Would you look at all the eye candy though? Blushing, she turned away at a lewd wink from the insolent lad. Wiry frame but what charming eyes. Reddening some more at the running commentary inside (Light! She must have had too little contact with the other gender if a little exposure catalyses ten sunrises) she entered plagued by a twinge of guilt. Tinker is dead, anyrate he won’t begrudge you looking. Says you’re a woman going through a latent stage of puberty. Like all phases it would be transient. The armory was an arsenal of what the weapon lover, and just as the collectors in the Wonder House would treat the Keeper of Images reverently, was how Lyssa seemed to regard the blades as she took each off the shelf and demonstrated.

 

In crisp Cairheinin tongue her Mentor delineated what was coming, her words pushing all distractions from the Accepted’s mind. They shopped around and with each aisle the Cairheinin woman introduced Saline to the steel. Mind-boggling how one could twist, lengthen, shorten, fold, implement a handle, and give an entirely new purpose to the weapons. Shape suits function, she pondered as she held the rapier in her grasp and hesitated. It was not as heavy as that claymore, or the bastard sword, which was awkward to wield not only in its name. A weapon such as the crossbow for example is ace from a distance, but would not help engagement close up. “Why don't you take a look around and show me what you are interested in." Saline considered herself forewarned as she strolled the aisles, trying not to despair as the blades gave way to pole-arms, to which she gave minimal attention to. According to the Accepted, if it hasn’t an edge it was not lethal. She would learn better as training progressed. On the second round she saw it, the scimitar she dreamt of training with ever since she heard about the opportunity to learn. Eyes sparkling she asked how often the blade should be polished. She would take care of the blade. And do well if it takes all her time juggling the other classes. Ad interim.

[Jaydena]

Lyssa walked among the blades, her thoughts clears as she picked them up and weighed them. The Tower had some of the best blacksmiths in the world. They took care of their guards and trainees and made sure that they had what they needed to protect their most precious cargo. The Aes Sedai needed to protect so much more and many of them fought the shadow daily in so many many ways. They didn’t need to worry about their Tower being protected or their Aes Sedai being taken care of on long missions. That is what the Tower Guards had been created for, everyday they watched out for the women of the Tower. If you had asked her ten years ago if she would have been a Tower Guard, protecting Aes Sedai she would have laughed until she hit the ground. She was sure and certain that she would be one of those women, in their loftly Tower, competing with her own Mother to be the best Aes Sedai that ever lived. Now she was down on the grounds of that lofty Tower and actually found that she was quite happy about it. It wasn’t what she had expected but it felt right and so day she hoped to live in the Tower and protect a woman that she had pledged her life too. She looked up at her new trainee and smiled, if everything went right with this one, someday she would be one of the those Aes Sedai that Lyssa would protect with her lift. Walking up to Saline she saw that the Accepted had picked out a scimitar, the woman was gazing at it with what looked like loving desire. Lys chuckled and turned as the girl spoke, she nodded and then asked for the weapon. Picking the weapon out of the other woman’s hand she weighed it, she ran her hands along the hilt, and the blade, being careful not to cut herself. The blade was indeed a sharp one and of the finest quality. She stepped back and executed several quick forms, the blade was a good one, strong and true. Lyssa handed the blade back to her mentee and spoke, “We will learn about how to take care of your weapon before the day is out, are there any other weapons you would like to learn, many Aes Sedai are very proficent and in fact lethal with cross bows or staves.” She waited for the woman’s answer and then to see if she wanted to pick anything else, when Saline had made her choice Lyssa motioned for her to follow and walked from the armory. They walked into another room and Lyssa noted down what weapons she had chosen and for who.

 

When she was finished she walked out of the Armory and headed out into the yard with Saline next to her, she wasn’t sure exactly how to react to this woman that one day would be an Aes Sedai just like the Mother who had ignored her all her life. They reached a glade that Lyssa wanted to use to practice in and she turned to her mentee and began speaking, “First we are going to learn about how to hold your weapon.” Lyssa walked over and told Saline to hold the weapon in her hand like she was going to use it. She adjusted the woman’s hand, moving her thumb into the correct position and then spoke, “Ok the point is not to strangle your sword but to hold it in a firm grip, once you are more comfortable with it, you will be able to hold it with a looser grip without worrying that it is going to slip from your hand or be knocked out of it. I want you to stand here and hold your arm out in front of you, the tip of your sword even with your nose, now I want you to gently swing it back and forth like you are going to use it. Make sure that you don’t change from the grip that I just placed your hand in.” She took a step back and motioned for Saline to begin with the sword, the woman’s swings were wild and erratic but Lyssa kept her at it until she noticed her arm shaking for the exertion. With a nod she spoke, “Now that you know how to hold your weapon and we have worked on your arm strength, we will learn about how to clean it.” She walked over to the rock nearby and sat down, she pulled a whet stone from her pocket and said, “Do you know what this is or what it is used for Saline?”

 

Lyssa Simeone

[Lih-Lyh]

No more Miss Lyssa'ing, she grinned as the woman took those swings with the scimitar. Lyssa was fantastic! There was a closed off section to the Armory Lyssa took her to, and penned

 

Saline Wastrel - Scimitar

 

in small, clean letters. Then Saline followed Lyssa outside.

 

A random trainee was lounging near the glade and watching them. Lyssa told Saline to grip the blade as she was fumbling with it.

 

Infested with... glee, she hacked recklessly. Was there ever such an unreserved initiate? Almost smacked herself in the nose before she slowed down. The lad twitched away. Saline chuckled. That was graceful. Prodding the nose she made sure it was not broken, for she would have fainted from the pain if it were. "No, no, keep going." She said, waving away the offer of the infirmary, and swung some more - actually keeping the grip this time - before Lyssa called a stop. Spiffing. Her arms hurt.

 

She looked at the whetstone and two associations stumbled into her mind. The first made her want to blush as the encounter with a marble plate came all too soon, but since Saline had heard of how some smiths worked with their blades while the Caravan was in Tear, she quickly said, "you sharpen the blade with it." That was a question, actually.

[Jaydena]

Lyssa waited for the girls answer all cracked a small smile, Saline had knocked herself in the nose with the flat of her blade a few minutes ago. It had been funny and Lys had been trying to contain her mirth since then. All the funnier had been the trainee who had been checking her out and beat a hasty retreat when he saw the way she was swinging the blade. She had offered to the Infirmary but the girl had declared herself fine and said, "No, no, keep going." A chuckle escaped and she lost herself in Void, trying to get rid of the mirth. This was not the time to bust into the giggles, she didn't want to seem like some flighty Tower Guard on her first training session. What would happen if her mother came along and saw her rolling on the ground laughing when she should be training someone. Not that the high and mighty Sirayn often came to see her, other than to scold her.

 

Her emotions calmed down and now that she was focused she ran her hands over the whetstone and looked at Saline. Lyssa turned her attention back to the topic at hand, "You sharpen the blade with it." Lys nodded and let a small smile peep through, "That is right, this will become your good friend, it is important that your blade be sharp. Your reasons, first of all a dull blade makes killing someone alot harder, you want to kill the threat or dispatch it, and do so quickly. Sharpen your blade on a regular basis. Lys took her own blade out and began to show the girl how to keep her blade sharp, when she had finished she picked up a pouch she had left in the glade earlier. Handing the package to Saline she watched as the girl took the wrapping off of it.

 

Inside was a brown pouch with Saline's name worked onto it, the inside was full of pouches. Each one contained different things, sword cleaner, hilt cleaner, oil for shining the blade, oil for shining the hilt, leather for working the blade, clothes of different textures, and another whetstone. Lyssa watched as she took out the different things and then she showed her how to clean her blade and how to oil it. When she was done she stood up and spoke, "Good work Saline, keep at that, getting yourself into practice. We will meet here tomorrow for your next lesson. I want to see the sword shining and clean when you get here. Good day to you." She turned and walked gracefully away from the girl...

 

Lyssa Simeone

Tower Guard

[Lih-Lyh]

Lyssa was smiling. Smiling is good. Smiling meant she had guessed correctly. Smiling meant that this could be fun as well as educational. Bt most of all -smiling meant not all Guards are chipped from stone. She had by random lottery drew a human attached with the past and emotions, rather than just another unfeeling automaton.

 

"This will become your good friend, it is important that your blade be sharp. Your reasons, first of all a dull blade makes killing someone alot harder, you want to kill the threat or dispatch it, and do so quickly. Sharpen your blade on a regular basis."

 

They started rubbing the shiny blades against the dark of the whetstone. Then Lyssa brought out a pouch.

 

Saline boggled. It had the most pockets she had ever seen of any article. After showing her how to apply the oil to the fabric that cleaned the blade, a different clothes for the hilt, and yet another. She noted the plethora of equipment made available to her with pleasure. Lyssa left, with a last reminder not to misuse her equipment.

 

Saline held the pouch in one palm. In her other palm the whetstone lay without lustre. "Hey," she breathed to her good friend. Saline found it funny such a dull slab could sharpen her precious scimitar. "I am Saline." Wave at the pouch with her name. "See?"