When Rhya had heard Owen’s plans for the day, she had groaned inwardly, unimpressed at the notion of both staying indoors and having a stranger share her studies. Looking out of the window, however, she thanked the Light for his common sense as the wind howled around the house. Rain she could cope with, wind and rain together made for misery.

Sighing, she brought her attention back to the lesson, glancing at the other girl as she did so. Zie seemed nice in a rather serious way and Rhya had greeted her politely when she’d turned up. They were both recent arrivals after all and she wondered briefly how Zie was settling in to life in the Stedding.

Casting her eyes over the herbs on the table, she took them as Zie passed them on, sniffing delicately, fingering the leaves and considering their uses. She was no healer but she knew that basic knowledge of herbs could save a life, especially when out traveling alone, far from even a village with a Wisdom. More so for the Kin who could not always be certain of a welcome.

Some of the herbs looked familiar, others very different from what could be found in Saldaea. Her mother and sister had used herbs for creams, soaps and other feminine potions. She, on the other hand, had learned to use them for eating. Cook had always had a most attentive audience when explaining their various uses as seasoning and garnish. Admittedly, that was because Rhya knew she would be allowed to taste whatever was being made and it could never be said that she didn’t have a healthy appetite.

She looked closely at the Grey Fennel, trying to imagine the kind of person who would use it for such a cowardly purpose as poisoning anyone, before placing it back beside the others, sure that she would recognise them all in future. She considered asking Owen about herbs that could put someone to sleep. Her dream disturbed nights were beginning to take a toll, leaving shadows around her eyes and effecting her concentration. She hurriedly dismissed the idea though, not wishing to answer any awkward questions in return and instead listened to Zie’s questions with interest.

Rhya paid close attention to what Owen said but, no matter how many rules there were, she was getting a sword and that was what mattered. She tried to contain her excitement, nodding agreement to his terms and at least had some appreciation for his final warning. Respect for weapons had been drilled into her by her trainer and, no matter the differences, a weapon was no toy.

She didn’t think the day could get much better but, as they walked, Owen mentioned that the wolves would be waiting to join them and suggested that she try to find Shadow. Somehow, his explanation seemed too easy and she guessed it would be more complex than that. She tried though and laughed delightedly when, after several attempts, it actually worked. It felt rather like stretching her mind and a little like being in the Dream but different too. She sensed Shadow’s recognition, his acceptance of her presence and gathered that he was lazing in the sunshine with Ice not far away. There were no words as such but rather a series of images and impressions that her mind translated.

When they reached the storeroom, Rhya followed Owen’s instructions, slipping past him, her nose twitching at the stuffy mustiness of the air as her gaze took in the array of weapons. They held no interest for her however and she spotted the three racks and walked towards them. There were plenty of swords but she took Owen’s words to heart, eyeing them one by one, intent on picking the right blade. She heard him say something about his office, waved her hand distractedly and continued her hunt.

Her fingers flitted over some hilts, barely touching them. Several looked pretty but she wasn’t looking for decoration. Many were simply too large or heavy for a woman to wield and she moved on. At last her eyes lit on a simple looking hilt, an amber gem set into the top, with an elegantly down-curved cross-guard. She reached for it, her hand curling round the soft tooled leather, and drew it clear of the rack.

The blade was long but comfortable. She stepped back, moving it around experimentally, enjoying the slight whoosh as it sailed through the air. Bringing it up for a closer look, she found it had a sharp double edge and no faults through the metal. It was good quality workmanship and Rhya noted the smith’s stamp, nodding to herself, lips curving in pleasure. This is the one. Now… a scabbard.

She quickly picked out a plain black leather scabbard and belt, put them on and sheathed the sword. Its weight at her side was satisfyingly reassuring. Finally she was happy and headed out the door, coming face to face with Owen.

“All done?" he queried, locking the door at her nod of assent. “Good, then its time we left.”

Some time later, Rhya wasn’t sure how long exactly, they’d cleared the Stedding and were walking in an easy silence. She was too busy eating up the scenery and relishing the sense of freedom to talk. The mountains were incredible, rising majestically towards the sky, an imposing presence. She wondered idly if everyone who saw them had the same urge to climb them, to conquer them somehow as though doing so might diminish them somewhat. Lost in her own musings, Owen’s sudden question as to why she’d chosen her sword took a moment to register.

“Hmmm? Oh, well… because it felt right,” she replied, smiling slightly. Sensing that wasn’t going to be sufficient she continued, “It’s not too heavy or too long. It wouldn’t be much help if wielding it tired me within a few minutes. Even if I learn to use it well, I don’t have a man’s strength so speed and accuracy are critical.” She quirked an eyebrow. “It’s also not for show. Should there be a day when I need to kill, it will be for necessity and no amount of jewels, silver inlay or engravings will help to make it a more pleasant task. It’s a tool, to do a job and to do it well. The quality of the blade was important too. This one is of Saldaean origin. I could tell from the smith’s stamp. I may not have been allowed to train with one but that didn’t stop me learning what I could about them.”

She stopped then, aware that she was speaking to someone with far more knowledge of weapons and their usage than herself but Owen merely nodded and she wondered briefly what he was thinking before getting caught up in their surroundings once more.

By the time the light started to fade, Rhya was tired and her legs were sore but she was still in good spirits. It was a good tired she decided just as they entered a clearing in the woods they’d been traveling through for the past hour or so. Although she would have been happy to continue, noting that her sight was still remarkably clear in spite of the dimness under the trees, Owen called a halt.

“Time to set up camp and eat. There’ll be plenty more walking tomorrow.”

She nodded her agreement, dumping her pack gratefully and stretching. As she did so, she caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see Ice and Shadow padding silently out of the undergrowth. The wolves had kept pace with them during day though they hadn’t been visible for the most part and she was pleased they’d decided to join them now.

Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi

The bread and honey was really remarkably tasty and she had to smile at Owen’s teasing. She was in a far better frame of mind already and the prospect of a journey only improved her mood further. She swung a foot lazily as she perched on the railing, studying the view while he spoke.

Not to wake her too early? Rhya sniffed delicately but kept her opinions on that to herself. She was more than used to being up at the crack of dawn, if not all night. Business hadn’t waited on daylight hours and sleep didn’t always come in the darkness. Her eyes were troubled for a moment, contemplating the past few nights when sleep had been more scarce than usual. The old memories dredged up by the last session of Dream training had been unexpected and left her with a vague sense of unease. There was definitely something she couldn’t remember. Just what it was remained to be seen but the vague, half formed images from the bad dreams she’d been having made her wonder if she even wanted to know.

She shook her head slightly, pushing the problem away for the moment and turned back to Owen with a carefully neutral expression, conscious of her delay in responding. He was already eyeing her with that unfathomable look of his.

“I’d like that, yes, it’s just what I need,” Rhya nodded then stopped, wrinkling her nose as she gathered her thoughts. She felt a need to say something, to clarify her earlier mood and continued quietly, “It never occurred to me that I was a prisoner here, Owen.. and this place.. it's many things..  beautiful, tranquil, safe... but not boring. I can’t go back to Maradon. Not now, perhaps not ever. I don’t want to leave here..,” a hint of anxiety slipped into her voice, “... not permanently.”

“You don’t have to leave, Rhya,” Owen’s reply was reassuring.

“Good. My home is here now, with ...” she became very still for a brief moment before averting her gaze and finishing, “... the Kin and the wolves.” She slipped down off the railing and started to walk back indoors, adding with an overly bright smile, “I need a purpose, to be useful I suppose. I’m sure most people do and no doubt I’ll find it. I’ll be sure to check out the stables when we get back. It’d be good to go riding again. Now, what do we need to take with us? Will Ice and Shadow come too?”

She knew she was babbling but thankfully Owen didn’t comment on her uncharacteristic chatter and talk turned to preparations for the journey ahead.

---------------------

True to his word, Owen didn’t drag Rhya out of bed too early but the following day was still young when they were almost ready to set out. The sky was clear with only a few clouds scudding overhead, boding well for the trip and Rhya was almost bouncing with excitement, her laughter and good spirits echoing round the house as she dashed back and forward.

“Will you come here for a minute and stand still?” Owen’s voice halted her as she waltzed past him intent on fetching her forgotten comb from her room.

She curtsied cheekily, grinning from ear to ear, “Yes, oh Wise One.”

He half turned, lifting up what looked to be heavy fabric from the nearby chair but as he shook it and held it out to her, she could see that it was a cloak, similar to one she’d seen him wearing before. “You’ll likely need this.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she swung it round her shoulders and felt the weight settle satisfyingly. She could tell it would be invaluable if the weather turned bad, warm and waterproof and far better than her own. It wasn’t bad right now though, so she removed the cloak again, placing it near the door, so that she wouldn’t forget it and ran off to get her comb.

When she returned, another idea had occurred to her as she caught sight of Owen’s sword. “Umm... Owen, can I have a sword to take? I have my daggers of course but a sword might be more useful. Not that I’ve ever learned to use one,” she admitted regretfully. Her father had never allowed that, keen though she'd been.

Heart of the Highland - Capercaillie

Walk On Water - Milk Inc ft DJ Sammy

The day had started out innocuously enough. She’d woken early, unable to sleep any longer and, as soon as she’d washed and dressed, had made a strong cup of tea before padding on bare feet out to the balcony. Curling up on her usual pile of cushions, Rhya sat in the half light of dawn watching the sun rise. She liked this time of day, often finding that the myriad colours washing the sky simultaneously washed clean any troubles weighing on her mind. It was not, however, working on this occasion.

She was restless, filled with an urgent need to be doing something... anything. Had been for days in fact. She was happy with her own company, enjoyed the solitude and peace that surrounded the tree house. No-one bothered her here save for the occasional visitor looking for Owen and nine times out of ten that suited her just fine. Unfortunately, this day wasn’t one of those nine and she suddenly craved company. Not just any company either as she didn’t know many people here in the Stedding.

Mostly my own fault, she thought but still couldn’t dredge up the slightest interest in making any effort in that direction.

She missed Maradon, missed the hustle and bustle of the town’s streets where there was ample company without actually having to speak to anyone. Her days had gone from being filled with meetings, trips to the warehouses, doing the accounts and attending social engagements to... essentially nothing... which explained why she looked forward so much to those evening interludes talking to Owen or listening to him play his flute. Her mouth curved in amusement at that thought. More often than not though he was busy with some business or other about the Stedding, off doing the Light alone knew what and she was left to her own devices. She’d had no complaints about that. Until now.

Working fingers through her heavy mane of hair to comb out the knots which managed to mysteriously form overnight, Rhya’s eyes dropped to the clearing below the balcony, knowing that Owen should be returning shortly. He ran every morning with his fellow Rangers so he’d informed her a few days after her arrival and she wondered if he ever actually slept. She wasn’t a great sleeper herself but when she did it was as one dead and nothing short of the house falling down around her would wake her up.

Suddenly impatient with herself and exasperated by her mood, Rhya stood up and headed back indoors. By the time Owen walked in, she had rinsed her cup and was busily tidying the kitchen area in an attempt to distract herself.

“Good morning, Rhya.”

“It is? I hadn’t noticed,” she replied with heavy sarcasm, ignoring the raised eyebrow and slight amusement on his face.

“Got out of bed the wrong side did we?”

She turned briefly, scowling at him, even more irritated that he was so unperturbed by her evident grumpiness. “I got out of bed just fine thank you very much. We can’t all be morning people. Sleep is good for you, you should try it some time.” She knew she was being churlish but the words were out before she could stop them and she bit her lower lip in consternation as she went back to wiping the work bench. It wasn’t Owen’s fault after all.

“Alright Rhya what’s wrong?” his tone was as laced with amusement as his previous question and she sighed, throwing the cloth into the sink and turning to face him. The grin on his face had her smiling back ruefully.

“I’m sorry. I’m just going a little crazy and it’s not doing much for my manners,” she explained, blushing slightly. She paused a moment then carried on, “I know you’re really busy Owen, but I need to get out of here. You’ve never taken me with you when you go anywhere and... well, I don’t know the area myself and since I lost my horse I can’t go riding and if I don’t do something soon I’m going to burst... but I’ll understand if you can’t of course....

She trailed off, looking at him hopefully.

Rhya knew he was up to something. You couldn’t spend so much time with one person and not pick up certain things unless you were completely blind. Owen had been changing the subject on her all evening and considering she was trying to ask about the Dream that was just not natural.

She allowed herself to be distracted as the talk turned to Shadow, who was rapidly becoming one of her favourite topics of conversation, and her head was suddenly full of more questions. The trail they were following became narrower as they spoke and Rhya took the lead for the time being. She’d gone a little further along the trail before it dawned on her that there had been no reply to her last question and she glanced over her shoulder, coming to an abrupt halt when there was no sign of Owen at all.

She started to turn, intent on discovering where he was and what had held him up but for some reason her feet and legs didn’t comply with her brain’s commands. Startled, she glanced down and it took only moments to register her predicament. Oh Light! Quicksand! She let fly with a string of colourful imprecations which by all rights should be completely unknown to a young lady of her birth, a product of the many hours spent in her father’s warehouses.

She couldn’t reach any of the nearby branches and trying made her sink further. Rhya felt the panic rising swiftly then, her breath coming faster as long forgotten, buried memories reached from the past, images of darkness, cold and helplessness racing through her mind, leaving her gasping for air, knuckles white as her fists clenched tightly.

She was dimly aware of the fact that the quicksand around her was now up to her thighs and she reached instinctively for Shadow, grasping at the first thing that came to her mind but, try though she might, she got no sense of him at all. Born of sheer desperation, Rhya dredged up the willpower from somewhere to shove the unbidden memories away, dragging in deep breaths to calm herself.

This has to be another lesson. A test. It has to be. Her earlier suspicions came back to her and it dawned on her that Owen wouldn’t put her in harm’s way unless he thought she could get out of it. But he couldn’t have known how she’d react. She hadn’t known it herself!! At that moment all she wanted was to be free, to be able to move and that was her over-riding impulse. She knew her control was hanging by a thread and trying anything complicated was out of the question. Keep it simple, she told herself, keep it simple, repeating the words over and over like a mantra as she tried to focus.

“Weight!!” she muttered. All her weight was on a small area, she needed to spread her weight! As carefully as she could, Rhya flopped onto her back, spreading her arms wide as she did so. She felt the sand give below her but she didn’t sink any further for the moment and closed her eyes in relief, ruthlessly quashing again the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Her legs were still stuck and this wasn’t solving the problem. Could she move herself completely from one place to another? She doubted it in her current frame of mind. She needed a rope.

Opening her eyes and tilting her head back a little, she spotted a low but sturdy looking branch further along the path. Well, if she needed a rope, she should be able to make one. Her lips twisted a little, Should being the operative word.

She dredged up every bit of her lessons that she could remember, focusing her will and forming the picture in her mind, gritting her teeth from the effort. It took her several attempts but finally the rope was where she’d pictured it, stretching from the branch to just above her head. It was the work of some minutes then to grab the end and pull herself hand over hand out of the sand, which was reluctant to let her go.

With her feet back on firm ground, her spine as stiff as a board and a blank expression, Rhya took a few shuddering gulps of air before haltingly making her rather wobbly legs start back along the path. Rounding a slight bend she stopped and looked at the familiar figure before her, tilting her head consideringly.

“I.... you... why... was that...,” she cleared her throat. “Could we perhaps not do that again, Owen?” The words tumbled out in a rush. “I think...” she continued, as her knees gave way and she dropped heavily onto a fallen trunk beside the path, “that I need to sit down.”

Love and Regret - Deacon Blue

Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes - Paul Simon

Darkness On The Edge of Town - Bruce Springsteen

Reassured by Owen’s comments, Rhya relaxed a little and wondered what would be coming next. This strange world was going take some getting used to, that much was clear. She didn’t have long to wait. Owen explained the next part of the lesson and she looked on in awe when the rock he held transformed into a beautiful statue of a woman and a child. The detailing on it was exquisite and she knew that he was right to say she couldn’t achieve such complexity. At least not yet and probably not for a long time, if ever.

As Owen handed her the now inconspicuous looking piece of rock, his tone altered. The change was slight and quickly gone, but she recognized again the sadness that seemed to seep now and then through carefully raised defences and wondered just what had caused such deep emotion in the enigmatic man before her. Intuition told her that it was not something to be asked about, particularly not here, but rather something that he would choose to speak of or not in his own time and so, she put the thought aside, grimacing a little at the long list of questions she was gradually stockpiling for “later”.

Will be there be answers for any of them? Most likely not. she thought, sighing and brought her mind back to the lesson, considering the problem before her.

Something simple and that she knew well. That was the key. Well, there was nothing she knew as well as her daggers. They had been at her side every day since she was old enough to hold them. Pleased with the idea, she studied the rock intently as she held the picture of one dagger in her mind, seeing its symmetry and the scrollwork on the hilt. When she was sure she had it right, she concentrated hard on the rock, trying for several minutes to fuse the image with it. The rock seemed to have a different idea and sat unmoving in her palm much to her frustration. The same thing happened on her second and third attempts and she growled in annoyance.

I must be missing something. This is harder than just changing my clothes. Why? she pondered for a while until finally her eyes rested on Shadow and the answer came to her. Because I’m trying to change something that exists here.

Taking a breath and pushing away the frustration, Rhya focused once more. This time she paid more attention to the small details such as the sharp edge of the dagger, the material it was crafted from and how its weight felt when she held it. Certain that she couldn’t be any more accurate, she aimed the thought, almost like a spear, hard at the rock and saw it waver and change. She squeaked delightedly, holding it up to show Owen and feeling remarkably pleased with herself but as she did so, it became a solid lump of rock again.

“Gah, I had it there for a moment,” she muttered, drooping back against the bench as exhaustion hit her suddenly. She realized she had no idea what time it was or how long they’d been here.

“Yes, you did but this takes practice Rhya. Its time to stop though. We’ve been in the Dream long enough. You can continue this tomorrow night after some rest,” Owen replied.

Rhya wasn’t about to argue, she needed food and she needed sleep. She wasn’t given the chance to anyway as Owen sent her back to her own body before she could even open her mouth to agree.

That set the pattern for several nights to follow and gradually, with many false starts, she began to find the process came more easily as long as she stayed calm. By the end of her fourth night in the Dream, she thought she might just have the knack of it as she managed to change the rock almost immediately without any wavering. Thinking for a moment, she voiced a concern that had been bothering her.

“Owen? How long can a person stay here? Does anyone actually stay in the Dream?”

Black Magic Woman - Santana

As she asked the question, Rhya sat on the ground and crossed her legs, her hand tangled in Shadow’s fur. It was an oddly comforting feeling and she liked the contact, finding it very hard to take her eyes off this new companion. With the exception of Ice, she’d never seen a wolf this close let alone sat beside one.

Owen explained that the wolves were siblings, which roused her curiosity further regarding their history but she held her tongue. When he spoke about Ice’s name and mentioned that the wolf preferred the shortened version, Rhya looked at him suspiciously before eventually deciding he was teasing which made her smile. She knew he had a sense of humour but he was in surprisingly good spirits this evening and that was less than common in her admittedly limited experience. Her eyebrows flew to her hairline at his next comment though.

“I think you will find you have made a friend this night Rhya, I do not think it amiss to say we are keeping this in the family.”

Family. She rolled the word around in her mind, debating how she felt about it, looking surreptitiously from Shadow to Ice to Owen and back. The idea pleased her, it seemed to fit but then look what had happened with her last family. She tucked the thought to the back of her mind to chew over later though she couldn’t help grinning back at Owen anyway.

Having obviously decided that it was time to get back to the lesson, he started speaking of the Dream once more and Rhya considered the example he gave. Slowly, she nodded. Its like learning to do accounts! She remembered weeks of pouring over books and trying to make some sense out of all the columns, sums and figures. That hadn’t been easy either but once she’d grasped it, it was surprisingly straightforward and very useful in running the business. Well, hard work is something I can deal with. It won’t be the first time.

“So with that in mind shall we get back to the lesson for tonight? So do you always wear men’s clothing and cover your face in soot?”

The last few words penetrated her reverie and she touched a finger to her face. It came away black. Seeing the look on Owen’s face she laughed and stuck her tongue out at him, he was so pleased with himself.

“Ok ok, point taken. You know far more about this and I have a lot to learn.” She concentrated on how her clothes should be and found the process much easier than earlier. Intrigued, she started to play a little, changing small details at first such as the colour of her top and then larger things like a skirt instead of trousers, a hat and then none oblivious to time passing. Of course, keeping it the way I want it is going to be the hard part, she thought keeping a wary eye on her mentor as she put all of her clothing back to how she liked it.

“I think I have the hang of this... mostly,” she said cautiously.

Black Eyed Boy - Texas

Rhya gingerly took a seat on the bench feeling decidedly wary of her surroundings and the odd light emanating from… well, from somewhere. There was no obvious source for it that she could see as her eyes scoured the clearing.

Looking to Owen once more, she saw a slight change in his expression. It was gone so quickly that she couldn’t put a name to it but she forgot about it soon enough as he began to talk to her about the Dream.

“Once you learn to do this then this will not be possible.”

“What won’t Owen? ” she glanced quickly around wondering what she had missed, fighting to keep her fears at bay but Owen soon directed her attention to her clothes. Her face turned redder than ever in a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance while he sat there grinning at her. His subsequent words mollified her somewhat though as she saw the sense in them and realized there was no malice at all in his humour.

Of course there isn’t, idiot. You’re here to learn, pay attention!”

Rebuking herself, Rhya took a deep breath and tried to control her unruly emotions as she slowly built up a picture of her clothing in her mind. Once she was certain the details were right, she fixed it there, concentrating hard. Glancing down and releasing the breath she hadn’t known she was holding, she saw her familiar boots and trousers in place.... underneath that stupid dress!! She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes before trying again, building up all the separate parts of the picture one by one until she had it just right. Opening one eye slightly, she peeked down and looked at Owen in delight as she saw the dress finally gone.

It lasted but seconds, however, as he directed his gaze at her head, still grinning. Raising a hand, she suspected what she would find and she scowled as one hand touched a pigtail. Sighing, she started again. This time her hair righted itself, its reassuring weight against her back again, but she found herself barefoot. It took another three attempts before everything was to her liking and she hardly dared to move in case it all changed again.

“Is everything this hard here?” she muttered, feeling a little disheartened. If it is, she decided, it could take forever to learn. Frustration was a new emotion for her. Learning had always come easily to Rhya and finding something that she couldn’t master immediately was like having her favourite toy taken away.

Suddenly, something nudged against her hand making her yelp in surprise and her head whipped round only to be confronted with two seemingly bottomless dark pools. A wolf!!! Rhya’s eyes widened as she gazed at the creature, her mind flooded with a tumult of impressions that she found hard to understand. Shadow… she grasped the name in satisfaction, slipping to her knees in front of him, everything else forgotten in the moment and slowly reached out to touch the soft black fur.

“Well aren’t you something?” she murmured softly, scratching behind an ear and caught another fleeting image out of the jumble, this time of Ice and a sense of connection. It had her remembering where she was and her head turning back to Owen, eyebrow raised in query.

“They’re related?”

Hey Sorandha, great to see you here  ;D *hugs*

Black Velvet - Alannah Myles

Two Minutes To Midnight - Iron Maiden

Blue Velvet - Bobby Vinton

I haven't decided yet what Rhya will be but it won't be Sage.

War On Drugs - Sisters of Mercy

Black Coffee In Bed - Squeeze

Let ye off then  :P hehe

Rockin' In The Free World - Neil Young

*pokes her mentor* Pssst you're meant to use one of the words from thr previous song/artist posted  ;)

"Standing At The Edge" - Hawkwind